Memories of the Heart || Harry Potter x Reader

Y7 ~ He's Mine

The forest was alive with the whisper of leaves and the distant call of birds, but to Y/N, the world was collapsing in on itself. She lay sprawled on her back, the damp forest floor pressing against her, the scent of moss and earth thick in the air. Sunlight filtered through the tangled canopy above, casting fragmented golden patches that danced over her face. The warmth should have been comforting, but all she felt was the cold grip of panic still clinging to her chest.

A sharp ache flared through her limbs as she pushed herself onto her elbows, her breath ragged from the violent pull of their escape. The last few seconds had been a chaotic blur— Apparition, the sensation of being squeezed through nothingness, the forest spinning wildly as they hit the ground. Her mind raced, searching for something to ground her, something real.

Then her eyes caught a glint of gold.

The locket.

Half-buried in the dirt, the cursed Horcrux lay untouched, its surface reflecting the speckled sunlight. Relief flooded her veins, momentarily dulling the ache as she scrambled onto her knees and snatched it up, her fingers curling tightly around the cold, unyielding metal. A triumphant breath left her lips, but the elation was short-lived.

"Y/N!"

Harry's voice cut through her moment of respite. He was suddenly beside her, his hand grasping her arm, pulling her upright. His face was drawn tight with worry, green eyes scanning her as if checking for injuries. His grip lingered, grounding, real.

"Are you alright?" His voice was rough, still edged with the urgency of their escape.

She nodded quickly, even as her breath hitched. "I'm fine—are you—"

"Y/N, come quick! Rons hurt!"

Hermione's voice was sharp with panic. The urgency in her tone sent an electric jolt through Y/N's chest. She turned, heart plummeting at the sight before her.

Ron lay motionless on the ground, his skin ashen, his body convulsing in violent spasms. His breath came in ragged gasps, and foam flecked the corners of his lips. The deep, jagged wound across his arm was raw and gaping, blood soaking into the leaves beneath him. Splinched. Badly.

Y/N's stomach twisted.

She ran towards her dropping to her knees beside Hermione, her hands trembling as she reached for him. The warmth of his blood coated her fingers as she hovered over the torn flesh. She could feel the magic inside her, coiled like a living thing, desperate to surge forward, to mend, to fix.

But when she tried to summon it—nothing.

The energy that had always been an extension of her, a part of her very being, was suddenly locked away. It was as if a door had slammed shut inside her, leaving her powerless. The absence of magic was deafening, a hollow void where it should have been surging to help.

"No, no, no," she whispered, panic tightening around her throat. She pressed harder, her hands shaking. "Please, work. Please!"

But the wound remained gaping, the blood still flowing.

It wasn't working.

"Y/N?" Hermione's voice wavered, her wide brown eyes darting to her in alarm.

Y/N swallowed hard, her vision blurring. She could barely hear her own voice over the roar of her pulse. "Something's wrong." She met Hermione's gaze, terror cracking through her words. "I can't use my magic."

Hermione stilled, the weight of those words settling like a stone between them.

"What?!" Her voice pitched higher, almost shrill.