'Tell Me Pretty Lies,' by moongirlel

Chapter 41: 'Morsmordre'

[RUNRUNRUN - Dutch Melrose]

༺ 𓆙 ༻
Tues. 9th August 1994- 1:51am...

Me and Cedric hid for hours, silently hoping the Deatheaters would leave the forest area.

Eventually, they did. But one stayed, walking back to the piles of ash and dust; what was left of the joyful atmosphere of colourful tents and campfires.

"Okay, I think it's safe now." Cedric said, putting his wand into his back pocket. He sneaked around the tree and up the hill.

I followed after him, slipping on the moss, he caught me instantly by grabbing onto my wrist.

"Careful."

I smile softly, keeping a cautious eye on my footsteps, until we reached drier ground of the campsite.

My hand reached up to my collarbone, and I pat it. It was empty. I look down as we walked, breathing stuttering.

I'd lost my necklace.

Upon reaching the main area of the site, Cedric stopped walking.

"What's wrong? Why are you stopping?"

"I have to go and find my father. I'm sorry." Cedric whispers.

"It's alright. I'll be fine from here," I say, taking out my wand.

"You sure? I feel bad leaving you, especially after... what we just heard."

I nod, gently nudging his arm. "I'll be fine. I'll see you at school?"

"Yeah."

His next actions surprised me: but welcoming to say the least. He stepped forward and pulled me into a short hug. "Be safe. I hope you find your brother."

I hug him back, "Thank you. You too, Cedric."

༺ 𓆙 ༻

Each steps I took, I was mindful not to create too much sound. Unaware of whether the last Deatheater we seen was still lurking around, or not.

Rustling nearby, had me gripping my wand until my knuckles were ghost white.

"Jane!" Hermione's voice far from where I stood, "Harry!"

Ron's came after hers, almost strangled out of fear, "Harry! Jane! Where are you?!"

"Jane!"
"Harry! Jane!"

My body moved before my brain could - My boots hit off the ground heavy, sprinting towards their voices. "I'm over here! Ron! Ron, I'm over-"

Whack.

I hit the ground, my vision turned blurry from the impact. My head spun, as the man who stood over me, projected an unknown incantation towards the dark clouds.

"Morsmordre!" He called, his tongue flicking out of his mouth. He tilts his head down, "Looks like it's my lucky day."

I scramble off the ground, casting a spell, which he deflected.