Harry Potter and the Seven Horcruxes [Completed]

Chapter 11: Lions and Tigers and...Dragons?

Chapter 11: Lions and Tigers and…Dragons?

The first of September dawned hot and sunny over the Albanian forest. The search for clues as to where Voldemort had hidden his Horcruxes had thus far proved futile. While they had found what Harry suspected was Voldemort’s hideout during his years in exile, it hadn’t contained a trace of a Horcrux, nor a hint as to why Voldemort had felt safe there.

As they’d searched the hovel tucked deep in the forest; Hermione had stumbled upon a shallow grave containing several human bones. Harry suspected they were the remains of Bertha Jorkins. The foursome had hated the idea of leaving her there — unmarked and alone for eternity — but couldn’t draw attention to themselves by alerting anyone at the moment.

So, they had carved a small headstone and placed it on Bertha’s grave. They’d bowed their heads while Hermione said a few words in remembrance. Before they left, they placed a locator spell on the grave, so they could later alert the Order of the location of Bertha’s remains. It was the best they could do, but Harry’s conscience still nagged at him. He knew very well that his remains could be left lying on the ground in the not-so-distant future. If that was to be his fate, he at least wanted to be treated with dignity.

Harry, Ginny, Ron and Hermione had allowed themselves the luxury of a lie-in on the morning of the first. They’d planned to Apparate back to London late in the afternoon and make a few public stops in Diagon Alley before visiting the Smith Museum. Harry thought that Mr. Weasley’s suggestion of being seen in public on occasion was valid, but he wasn’t certain if the elder man would still want to help him accomplish this after his daughter had disappeared with Harry.

Harry’s eyes opened slowly as he lazily stretched and rolled over on his side. He could hear Ron’s snores drifting from the bunk beneath him. The room appeared fuzzy without his glasses. He squinted as he peered at Ginny’s bed, but didn’t see the familiar cascade of red that usually covered her pillow. He felt that familiar twinge of disappointment at her absence, but squelched it.

Sitting up and cracking his back, he put on his glasses and blearily looked around. Both of the girls’ beds were empty, and he thought he could smell the aroma of bacon coming from the other room. Harry swung his legs over the side of his bunk and jumped to the floor. Ron never twitched, so Harry left him to his slumber.

He found Ginny and Hermione in the kitchen. Ginny was frying some bacon on the stove while Hermione hunched over a cup of coffee. Harry had been surprised to learn how grumpy Hermione could be first thing in the morning. At Hogwarts, she always came downstairs bright and eager to start classes. While on this journey together, however, he’d discovered that until she had a shower, Hermione’s morning demeanor rather resembled Ron’s.

Ginny had told him that Hermione had always been that way; she usually didn’t come downstairs until she’d managed to fully wake herself. Hermione liked her routine, and part of that routine involved avoiding all human contact when she first awoke. Ginny said that on days when Hermione appeared at breakfast already very cross, Parvati and Lavender had insisted on speaking to her first thing.

"Morning, Harry," Ginny said, greeting him with a warm smile.

The creature that resided inside Harry’s chest purred. "Morning," he replied, unable to suppress the goofy smile that crossed his face.

"The breakfast isn’t quite ready, but there’s coffee in the pot if Hermione is willing to share," Ginny said, poking Hermione in the ribs with her spatula.

Hermione jerked away from Ginny’s prodding and silently pushed the coffeepot towards Harry.

"Good morning, Hermione," Harry said, pouring a cup and breathing in the freshly brewed scent.