The War | The Sister Book #4 | Harry Potter Fanfiction

Chapter Three

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A cool summer breeze brushes over me and sends waves through the vast fields of grass around the Burrow. I sit in Ginny's bedroom window, my feet hanging out over the roof a few metres below, my faded green dress floating in the faded sunlight. Below I can see the ten where Bill and Fleur's wedding will take place. It's funny how things turn out, Bill and Fleur, after everything that happened with Ron and Harry the year we met her.

I watch as Arthur begins to instruct the boys, telling Fred off for not paying attention. I thumb the ring that hangs on a chain around my neck, looking up at the flat countryside ahead of me, the great expanse of golden brown. I wonder where he is right now.

He'll be at Malfoy manner, no doubt, with his family. I was the one with the questionable extended family this time last year. Oh, how the tables have turned.

I don't dare write a letter, I barely mention his name, forcing my mind to other- more important- things that aren't a broken heart. I'm not even sure if my heart is broken. Perhaps it's merely strained. I know he thinks I'm dead, that he killed me. That's what the entire wizarding world other than guests at this wedding believe. Apparently, they'll be sworn to silence, which is of no surprise; Molly wanted me to leave the country. In staying, I'm happy to obey by at least some of her rules.

How is he? What's he been doing? Has he been in contact with Blaise and the others? Is he alright? I'm alright, I want to tell him. I know it's foolish, to want to speak to someone who's fighting for the other side, but I also know he's not guilty of murder and that he didn't want to do any of it. Besides, I survived.

I look up from the ring, seeing a man appear ahead of the house. Squinting slightly, I frown when I recognise his face.

What on earth is he doing here?

I slip back through the window, skidding down the stairs. That's the Minister of Magic. You're about to meet the Minister of Magic and you're not wearing any shoes.

I decide not to worry about my lack of footwear, turning the corner and almost running straight into Hermione.

"Slow down, you almost bowled me over!" She laughs,

I nod, swallowing, "What do you think he's here for?"

"Who?" She frowns,

We hear the front door open and Harry comes down the stairs behind me. I step around the corner, seeing Ron holding the door open for the Minister for Magic, Scrimgour, who stands in the kitchen, waiting.

"To what do we owe the pleasure, Minister?" I ask timidly as Hermione and Harry step out from behind me. His face softens,

"I think we both know the answer to that, Miss Potter." He says slowly. I frown at the way he says my last name. Slowly. Carefully. Bouncing from one syllable to the next.

He motions for us to sit, and we shuffle into the living room, Harry, Ron and Hermione on the seat of the small sofa, and me perched on the arm. The Minister seats himself opposite. He takes a small leather pouch out of his leather briefcase and places it on the small coffee table before us. Hermione fidgets, embarrassed at the simple clothing she wears.

"And this is...?" Harry asks quietly,

The Minister takes out a folded piece of paper from his briefcase, levitating it and unfolding it, he begins to read, "Herein is set forth the Last Will and Testament of Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore. First, to Ronald Bilius Weasley," Ron's head snaps up in surprise, "I leave my Deluminator, a device of my own making, in the hope that - when things seem most dark - it will show him the light."

The Minister takes from the leather pouch a strange object, one I've seen Dumbledore use before. I frown at it, watching as it is handed to Ron.

"Dumbledore left this for me?"

Scrimgour nods, "Yes."

Ron nods, "Brilliant-" He fiddles with it, glancing at Harry and Hermione, "What is it?"

The Minister shrugs, unsure, and the Ron flips what seems to be the cap of the small object, and the light from the lamp behind me flies past me head, clicking inside the deluminator. When Ron opens it again, the light flies back. He takes a breath,

"Wicked."

The Minister nods, turning to Hermione, "To Miss Hermione Jean Granger, I leave my copy of The Tales of Beedle the Bard, in the hope that she will find it entertaining and instructive."

He passes Hermione a worn blue book, one I recognise immediately from my childhood. I don't know how many times Dumbledore read it to me. It was my favourite for years.

Ron grins at the book, "Mum used to read me those! The Wizard and the Hopping Pot, Babbitty Rabbity and her Cackling Stump..."

I smile, nodding, "Babbitty Rabbity was always my favourite..." I chuckle, and Ron nods. Hermione and Harry stare blanky at the two of us. I scoff,

"Muggles," I joke, rolling my eyes. Harry elbows me.

The Minister clears his throat, "To Harry James Potter," We still, and I glance down at Harry, "I leave the Snitch he caught in his first Quidditch match at Hogwarts, as a reminder of the rewards of perseverance and skill."

Slowly, the Minister takes a small golden snitch out from his leather pouch and hands it to Harry. I frown, seeing that it doesn't open. Snitches have flesh memories. The minister too seems confused. Harry stares, mesmerised, at the object.

"And to Clara James Potter, I leave the books in my personal library, as a reward for her determination and care-" I smile to myself, nodding, and the Minister sighs, "As you know, Mss Potter, Dumbledore also left you a sizeable amount of money, which you placed in the care of Ms McGonagal. The books, which remain at Hogwarts, are available for you to collect whenever you wish to."

I nod, glancing down at my hands. I won't be getting them anytime soon.

"Is that all, Minister?" I ask, not sounding ungrateful, but we have an awful lot to do, and seeing as he hasn't moved to leave-

"Not quite. Dumbledore left you a second bequest, Miss Potter: The Sword of Godric Gryffindor. Unfortunately, the Sword of Gryffindor was not Dumbledore's to give away. As an important historical artefact, it belongs..."

"To Harry- It belongs to Harry. It revealed itself to him-" I say quickly, but he cuts me off,

"The sword may reveal itself to any worthy Gryffindor Miss Potter it does not make it that person's property. And at any event, the current whereabouts of the sword are unknown."

"Excuse me?" Harry frowns, looking up from his snitch,

"The sword is missing." We glance at each other, surely not, surely the sword can't just go missing- "I don't know what you're up to, but you can't fight this war on your own. He's too strong."

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Hello

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Taylor xx