The Veil-Breaker

Pierced

He kept searching.

He knew that it had to be here, somewhere. The tales had been told, and he had scoured every inch of them. It should be here. It had to be here. He could not leave the Forbidden Forest until he had found it.

The muggle invention called 'backpack' rest on his shoulders. He had never used one before, so it took some getting used to. The straps tended to dig into his shoulders, slowly, so that he did not notice the excruciating pain until it was too late.

A stray Acromantula approached him. Like most other things that dared to interrupt his search, it was met with several angry spells. Days of misplaced aggression flooded out of his wand. This one had obviously not learned from its fallen comrades. It must know that it can not interrupt his search. After it scurried away, he resumed crawling on his hands and knees. So far, he had scoured almost the entire forest, and he knew that he was close. He had to be. He had come to far to fail. Dirt and mud streaked his skin and cloak, and the odd leaf or twig littered his hair.

A ray of moonlight lit the ground in front of him, like a beacon. Multiple other beams followed suit, dappling the forest floor with an eerie light. A small ray of light caught his attention. It lay gracefully on the crumpled leaves, but illuminated something beneath the autumn husks. Something that cast a purple glow.

He lunged forwards, fingers curling around his discovery. He clutched the small object in his palm, afraid to uncurl his fingers. He had found fakes before. Little pieces of crystal, a purple leaf covered in dew. All dead end disappointments. Panicked thoughts flitted through his mind. What if he had been mere inches from his treasure, only to leap away? He glanced over his shoulder, scanning the ground he had shuffled through not moments before. Nothing. His gaze fell back on his fist. He opened it slowly, fingers releasing their grip on death. His heart ached with tension. He wasn't sure if he could stay in the forest much longer. If this was not the treasure, his treasure, he would break. His eyes closed the moment his palm opened, presenting the object he grabbed. Finally, he dared to open his eyes. There it was. He had finally found it. Wonder filled his mind. Entranced, he spun it in his palm once. Twice.

Thrice.

A blinding flash lit up the forest, and he fell to his knees. After a few seconds, the light dimmed considerably, and he could clearly see what the midnight search had yielded. A semi-transparent figure stood in front of him, eyes wide with awe. He staggered to his feet, clutching the stone tighter. His eyes traced over every familiar feature, the ones he saw in the mirror every day. The two stood in a tense silence for a few moments before the apparation spoke.

"Forge." Fred whispered, a bright smile gracing his face.

"Gred."