The Dark Mark (The Girl Who Lived part II)

The Difficult Diadem

"Where are they?" I asked Neville. We stood at the beginnings of the passageway to Hogsmeade. "I'm sure that they'll be here". He gave me a reassuring squeeze on the shoulder.  "I know, it's just that I'm awfully worried about them. I can't help but think that the worst is going to happen". I rumbled on to Neville about my worries. We were waiting for the return of Harry, Ron, and Hermoine. There was no sign of them yet, and my anxiousness was eating away at me. 

"Where's Oliver?" I asked him, trying to take my mind off the subject. "After we lost him, I asked Luna and Ginny to keep him busy". Oliver hadn't so much as let me out of his sight ever since I told him everything. "Really? How long do you think they'll be able to keep him occupied?" "For a fair amount of time. I told Ginny that as a last resort, she should forcibly drag Draco into the conversation without letting Oliver go, and banter on with him about the whole Drapple pairing". "Knowing how large Draco's ego is, their bickering would last all night if they had it". I commented. 

"But why are they coming back so soon?" I asked him. "They've figured out that the next Horcrux is in Hogwarts". There was the echo of footsteps from beyond. We hushed our voices. "Get behind me". Said Neville who slowly pushed me behind him. We had no way of knowing whether or not the footsteps approaching were that of an ally, or that of an enemy, so we prepared our wands. Each step they took closer was another hair that stood up on my neck. From only a mere eight  meters away, I heard their voices. "Honestly Ron, will you ever stop eating? And stop spilling your crumbs all over me". I heard Hermoine complain. There was a distant mumbling and grumbling, and then speaking in Ron language. "Come on Ron, the faster we get there, the sooner you'll be able to stuff yourself with your favorite food. Speaking of which, in all these years I've known you, I don't think I actually know what that is. What is it?". I heard Harry say. There was some throat clearing. "Scarlet's". I heard Ron say in his own language he used whenever him mouth was stuffed full of food. Even without seeing him, I knew that crumbs fell from his mouth as he attempted to form the words. 

When they were close enough, that they were visible in the darkness, we met them halfway, with our wands put away. "Hermoine!" I hugged her first while Neville greeted Ron and Harry. "Ron didn't drive you too crazy, did he?" I asked her. "Sometimes I believe that I've gone mental". She responded. I then moved to Ron who carried what appeared to be a sack full of food. "Ron, is that a feedbag?" I asked him, referring to the sack of oats loosely hanging from a rope tied around his neck. "Yeah. Hermoine wanted to keep me quiet". He shrugged his shoulders, seemingly confused as to why Hermoine would want him quiet. "I've missed you". I squeezed him into a hug. Or rather, he squeezed me. I felt like a ketchup bottle. "Ron....Can't breathe..." I struggled to get free of him, but it didn't seem to work. "Alright Ron, it's my turn". Said a rather annoyed Harry. I could hear his foot tapping impatiently, counting every millisecond. "Scarlet's face is turning purple". Neville pointed out, before he started pulling Ron away from me. "Time to let go, Ron". Said Harry as he began assisting Neville. 

When they finally pulled Ron from me, I greeted Harry. "Thank goodness you're safe. I was worried that you wouldn't make it back, and-" I had a list. But Harry kept me from continuing. For, he pulled me into a tight, but breathable embrace. We'd been dating for just about four years now, and I still didn't know how I felt. There was no doubt about it, I loved him. I just wasn't sure whether or not I was in love with him. 

I'd surely had enough time to sort out my feelings for him by now. But I was at a split road. I'd missed his touch. His smell. His mannerisms, such as his incessant polishing of his glasses. His voice and the way he phrased his sentences. All of the things that indicated I loved him. That during his lengthy absence, I missed him. Longed for him. But there were other signs that said otherwise. He was The Boy Who Lived and I'm a Death Eater. If that doesn't say "star crossed", then I don't know what does. And even though I was relieved that he had me in his arms, a part of me felt uncomfortable. Like I was being watched. Every action I made, every breath, was being monitored. Perhaps it was due to him not knowing about my Dark Mark. Or maybe it was the fact that there was no way out of this relationship unless I severed the ties between me and Voldemort. But either way, I felt trapped.