Harry Potter: The Forgotten Chronicles- Book 8

Chapter 8

Chapter Eight

The castle was shrouded in an eerie silence as Evelyn and Harry made their way through its winding corridors. The once-familiar surroundings felt strange and foreboding, with the usual hustle and bustle of Hogwarts absent, leaving only the hollow echo of their footsteps against the cold stone. The portraits that usually lined the walls, vibrant with the chatter and movement of their occupants, were now empty, their frames lifeless and still, as if even the figures within had retreated in anticipation of the darkness to come.

Evelyn and Harry walked hand in hand, their fingers intertwined in a silent pact of solidarity. The weight of what they had learned pressed down on them like a suffocating blanket, each step forward a testament to their shared resolve. They moved with a quiet determination, their hearts heavy with the knowledge of the sacrifice they were about to make, the finality of their mission echoing in the stillness around them.

As they reached the end of the corridor, they came to a halt, their gazes drawn to an alcove shrouded in shadows. There, partially hidden from view, were Hermione and Ron, their figures close together in a moment of private solace. Hermione's voice was a soft murmur, barely audible, as she whispered something to Ron, their faces inches apart. The scene was intimate, a stark contrast to the overwhelming despair that hung over the castle.

Evelyn and Harry stood silently, watching their friends. There was a sadness in their eyes, a deep, aching sorrow as they observed this fleeting moment of peace. It was as if time had slowed, allowing them a brief reprieve to take in the sight of those they loved before the inevitable storm. The sight of Hermione and Ron, so close and yet so far removed from the darkness that awaited, tugged at Evelyn's heart, the ache nearly unbearable.

But then, as if sensing the weight of their gaze, Hermione looked up. Her eyes widened in shock, and within a heartbeat, she was rushing toward them, her expression a mixture of relief and fear.

"Where've you been?" Hermione's voice trembled as she spoke, her anxiety palpable.

Ron was right behind her, his face etched with concern. "We thought you'd gone to the forest, we thought you might be—"

"I'm going there now," Harry replied softly, his voice calm yet filled with an unspoken finality.

Hermione's face crumpled, her eyes wide with disbelief. Ron started to protest. "Are you mad? No! You can't just give yourself up to him—." Hermione silenced him with a firm squeeze of his arm. She turned her gaze back to Evelyn and Harry, searching their faces for answers, for some glimmer of hope that things weren't as dire as they seemed.

"What is it? What is it you know?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper, laced with desperation.

"There's a reason we can... hear them—the Horcruxes," Harry said, his words hanging heavily in the air. Hermione began to shake her head, her eyes pleading as she tried to reject the truth that was staring her in the face. But Harry simply nodded, his hand moving to rest over his heart, where a faint, almost imperceptible thrum pulsed beneath his fingertips.

"I think I've known for a while," Harry admitted, his voice thick with emotion. He turned to Evelyn, their eyes meeting in a moment of shared understanding, a silent confirmation of what they both had feared for so long. "I think you've known too."

Evelyn's grip on Harry's hand tightened, her heart heavy with the weight of the truth they were about to reveal.

She nodded and turned to Hermione. "I was right," she whispered, her voice laced with sorrow. The confirmation of her darkest fears settled over her like a shroud, cold and unyielding.

Hermione's eyes filled with tears as she looked between them, her mind racing for a way to undo the cruel twist of fate that had brought them here. "I'll go with you. I'll—" she began, but her voice broke, her resolve crumbling as a single tear slipped down her cheek, trailing a path of despair.