Lucy Riddle and the Boy Who Lived

Naming Dung

Chapter Thirty-Eight

Lucy staggered behind the Golden Trio as they trudged around the bayou of the random forest they had stumbled into on the rush out of Grimmauld Place. Snape's pyromania caused them to leave the only safe haven they had. Now they were stuck in a mundane forest where they had nowhere to go.

Hermione and Harry were trying to carry the cynic they knew as Ron to an empty pasture with thousands of trees bordering the area. Ron's red hair was in spikes from the wind and a scowl that probably made wrinkles on his annoying face.

"That Snape, always ruining everything for us! Why does he hate us so much anyway? I don't remember planting Dungbombs in his office. I believe that was Fred . . . or was it George? Either one of them — most likely both — but not me! I've always tried to get on his — oh shut up, Harry. It's not like you've been trying to get on his . . . well, I don't know if he even has a nice side —"

Lucy muttered "Confundus!" under her breath and watched as Ron stopped talking, asking, "What was I talking about?"

Hermione and Harry just shrugged their shoulders and simultaneously said, "I don't know. Silencio!" Ron was quiet after that, refusing to talk to any of them and sat down on a rock for a few minutes as the other three searched for a good campground.

"How about here?" Harry called from the other side of the lawn. There were enough trees to hide them from intruders but still be able to see whoever was near.

The girls nodded their heads while Ron gave a lazy thumbs up.

It was starting to get dark so Lucy silently lighted up her wand and helped the lot set up the tent. Luckily for them, Hermione was always prepared for any situation such as this. She had carried a gift from Hagrid — a bag that could hold anything and not get full — around her shoulders the whole trip, never placing it down for anything. It was even waterproof.

When everything was set (with no help from Ron, whatsoever), Harry, Ron, and Lucy were sitting around a small fire to keep warm and try to think of where the next Horcrux could be. Hermione was casting spells around the campsite to protect them.

"What could be the next Horcrux?" Ron asked, warming his hands with the fire. "What was so important to You-Know-Who that could've been his soul?"

"I don't know," Harry mumbled, rubbing his hands together to create some friction. "But it can't be too hard. We just gotta think. Was there something Dumbledore said that could've been a clue?"

Lucy considered it. Was there a hidden message from the last time they had a conversation with Dumbledore? From the story he had told them about Tom Riddle?

"I think the more important question here is how to destroy the Horcruxes. We can't just keep them lying around here for Tom Riddle to get his hands on. Harry, do you know what could abolish them? Did Dumbledore tell you?"

"Well, there was a time when Dumbledore destroyed Marvolo's ring with the Sword of Gryffindor . . . but we don't have it. Dumbledore said in your letter that he has it, and when we need it, he'll give it to us. The problem is: he's dead. There's no way for us to get our hands on the Sword now." Harry squeezed his face with his hands, thinking of another way for them to destroy the Horcruxes without the Sword.

Hermione was walking towards them as she said, "What's up? Got anything useful?"

"Well," Lucy answered with a shrug, "the only way we can destroy a Horcrux is with the Sword of Gryffindor, the sharpest sword in the world. But, you know, Dumbledore has it. He said he'll give it to us when we need it, but he's deceased. There's no other way for us to abolish those retched things."

"Isn't there the venom of a basilisk?"

Silence.

"Hermione, what did you say?"

Harry pushed his hands way from his face. There was a hopeful gleam in his eyes as he thought about what Hermione just said. Basilisk venom could melt anything. It killed Tom Riddle's diary! The one Lucy found wasn't the actual Horcrux — it was just a gift from Voldemort. The Horcrux was demolished by the venom.

"Hermione, you're a genius!"

"I know I am. It's not that hard to remember about the diary. The only problem is the only basilisk on Earth is currently lying dead underneath Hogwarts. We're not exactly close to . . . well, anything really."

"But, there's only two places where the Sword could be." Harry calculated the situation in his head. "Hogwarts, its original home, or the Ministry. Scrimgeour could've found it and taken it back just as Dumbledore said. At least now we have some places in mind. We'd need to go back to Hogwarts anyway if the Sword is nowhere to be found. The basilisk is still there."

"What'll we do with the locket then?" Ron queried.

Hermione shrugged. "I guess we'll just have to wear it for the time being. We can't let it lie around. We'll misplace it somewhere on our journey and lose it. That's something we cannot do, not with the Horcrux.

"So, any volunteers?"

Lucy was forced to wear the gold, suffocating necklace around her neck for the next four hours before it was Hermione's turn to take the murderous thing. It was also her turn to be lookout.

She grumbled as the others slept. "Should've gotten a better job — I'd like to be sleeping under those warm blankets instead of stuck by the cold wind and no fire. Rubbish I tell you . . . er, me."

Lucy played around with her surroundings. She had decided to practice without her wand, but it was still next to her just incase she needed it. "Engorgio!"

Someone or something's dung was enlarged and Lucy couldn't help but snicker. "Well, that's nice. Hmm, maybe I'll call it Donald Trump."