Splinched

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The world spins as Harry lies on his back on a bed of leaves and twigs. Isabella runs over and shakes him. Above, sunlight streams through a canopy of trees. Wincing, Harry rises on his elbows, sees the locket lying in the dirt. He scrabbles up, scoops it into his fingers and grins. "Izzy, quickly, I need an 'Essence of Dittany'," Hermione calls. Harry turns, sees Hermione, bent over Ron's twitching body. "Quickly!"

Harry blinks as Isabella rushes over, digging in her stores. A small brown bottle sits in her palm as she runs over. "Unstopper it," Hermione commands.

Hermione rips open Ron's shirt, which is soaked in blood. The flesh of his upper arm is flayed, as if someone had scooped a portion away. "Hermione. His arm-" Harry notes.

Izzy sprinkles three drops onto Ron's bleeding wound. Greenish smoke billows. "What happened? I thought we were going back to Grimmauld Place," Harry says.

"We were. We were there. But Yaxley had hold of me. I knew we couldn't stay once he'd seen, so when he let go I brought us here. Ron got Splinched. I'm- sorry," Hermione says.

"Don't be stupid," Harry insists.

The smoke sifts, clears. Ron's wound no longer bleeds. "It's all I feel safe doing," Hermione replies. Hermione rises, takes out her wand and begins to walk in a wide circle, muttering. "Salvio Hexia- Protego Totalum-"

"What're you doing?" Harry asks.

"Protective enchantments. I don't fancy another visit like we had on Shaftesbury Avenue, do you? Especially with Ron like this. You can get going on the tent-" Hermione instructs.

"Tent? Where am I supposed to find-" He stops, glances down at Hermione's bag, then back to Hermione.

"Repello Muggletum- Muffliato-"

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The tent glows from within under a starlit sky.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Hermione pours tea from a kettle into cups. "How're the mushrooms? Seem to be the only edible things growing round here," Hermione says.

Harry grimaces as he chews. "Edible" is clearly debatable. "They're great," Harry nods.

"Make sure to leave some for Ron," Hermione reminds.

"No problem," Harry mumbles under his breath. Harry sets his plate aside, plucks up the locket, dangles it in the firelight. Glances at Ron. "How bad is he?"

"He'll be alright in a few days. Hopefully. If we could take him to Hogwarts, to Madam Pomfrey-" Hermione hopes. Harry's glance stops her, confirming what she knows. "So where do we go next?"

"Dumbledore had a theory. He felt that the Horcruxes would not be made out of random objects. And he felt they wouldn't be hidden randomly either. We know of three so far. The ring, which according to Dumbledore belonged to Tom Riddle's grandfather. The diary, which belonged to Tom himself. And this, which, again, according to Dumbledore, belonged to his mother," Harry says.

Hermione eyes the locket as it glimmers in the firelight. "It scares me a bit, that, thinking it's a piece of Vol-"

"No, don't! Don't say it!" Ron shouts. Harry and Hermione turn, see Ron stirring. "It's taboo, You-Know-Who's name. That's how they track people now. It's how they found us in the cafe that night."

"How d'you know?" Harry asks.

"I overheard a bloke from the Enforcement office talking about it at the Ministry. Blimey, what's that smell?" Ron asks.

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