"Don't leave, I told you I wouldn't. So why are you?" Hermione's voice croaked, a mixture of desperation and sorrow in her tone.
"I can't, you know I can't," Y/N murmured, her brows furrowing with a heavy burden of guilt. She felt the weight of her...
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Y/N stepped onto the perch, playing with her car keys. She had enchanted the car to turn into a car or a motorcycle with the press of a button, a skill she had learned from Arthur Weasley. With a quick press of the button, the car transformed into a motorcycle, its parts making robotic noises with each bit and switch. The motorcycle emerged, a striking blend of gold and black, combining elements of a dirt bike and a sports bike.
"Where's Kipper?" asked Harry, and Y/N pointed at her motorcycle, which had a basket designed to keep Kipper safe during their flight.
"Head for the Burrows. We'll rendezvous there," Moody declared. Harry and Y/N exchanged glances before Harry joined Hagrid in his vehicle, and Y/N mounted her motorbike. Hestia, now in her physical form, pressed her front against Y/N's back and wrapped the girl's waist tightly.
"Be safe, Y/N," Hermione said, her hands gently holding Y/N's cheeks. Y/N nodded, her hands on the handlebars. Hermione leaned in for a kiss, but Y/N's expression turned disgusted.
"I am not kissing you, especially when you look like Harry," Y/N deadpanned. Hermione persisted.
"What if this is the last time we kiss and either of us dies!?" Hermione exclaimed, her concern evident. Y/N responded with a blank look, unimpressed.
"I'll kiss you later," Y/N replied casually. Hermione rolled her eyes before standing on her tiptoes, her hand on Y/N's shoulder. Y/N tried to pull away, but Hermione planted a kiss on Y/N's cheek, much to Y/N's exaggerated disgust.
"Ugh, I think I'm gonna be sick," Y/N theatrically gagged.
Hermione, rolling her eyes once more, told Y/N to go and take care as she mounted her own Thestral, being guarded by Kingsley. The group was ready to depart, each on their chosen mode of transportation, bound for their next destination.
Y/N's motorcycle roared to life as Moody counted to three, and they ascended into the cloudy, cold night sky, where thunder rumbled, lightning streaked, and condensation clung to their clothes, leaving them slightly misted.
"Warning, dangerous presence nearby," Hestia's voice sounded the alarm. Right on cue, Death Eaters on brooms swarmed the sky, shouting Harry's name.
"Hestia, knock as many as you can down!" Y/N commanded, her focus on driving the motorcycle. She pressed a button, igniting the exhaust and shooting out a stream of fire. Her green eyes blazed a fiery red as she channeled her magic into the flames, propelling the motorcycle even faster.
"That's Y/N! Get her!" a voice among the Death Eaters yelled. Y/N's jaw clenched, the Death Eaters noticed the change in her eye color.
Green streaks of magic whizzed past her as Hestia set some of their pursuers' brooms on fire. Y/N swerved through the chaos, dodging spells cast in all directions, some leaving scars in the night.
"Hestia, in front—" Y/N began, but her warning was cut short as her eyes widened. Hestia was suddenly propelled off the motorcycle and petrified mid-air.
