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

Chapter Fourteen

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I lie, curled up, facing away from the others on my bed, The Fellowship of the Ring in my hands. The story, though I'm only just starting, is fascinating. It's nothing like wizard fiction. I'm wearing Draco's sweater. It took a lot of courage, and very little choice, for me to put it on, but as I press my face into the mottled green wool, I'm engulfed in his smell. Of mint and wood fire smoke and pine trees and chocolate. Fresh and yet warm. My leg has healed quickly over the past week, since that day in the field. The scar is just a silver line, and, with any luck, in another week I won't feel a thing. 

"Oh my god."

I frown, rolling over sleepily to see Hermione searching frantically through her bag. I slowly close the book, folding the page corner, and pressing it to my chest. Harry sits in one of the camping chairs, pieces of his hair scattering the floor behind him from Hermione's 'emergency' haircut. Ron is nowhere to be seen.

"What?"

"I'll tell you in a minute-"

Harry watches Hermione as she pulls out a book, sitting down at the table under the light and flicking through the pages, frantically. Harry gets up, sitting opposite her and watching 

"Why can't you just tell me now?" Harry says impatiently. 

Hermione looks up from her book as I roll over fully, sitting up on the bed. 

"The sword of Gryffindor, it's goblin-made."

"Brilliant."

"You don't understand. Dirt and rust have no effect on the blade. It only takes in that which makes it stronger." Hermione says slowly,

I open my mouth in surprise. She's got it. She's a fucking genius. "Oh my god, Hermione," I mutter,

"Okay?" Harry glances at me, then back at Hermione, 

"Harry. You already destroyed one Horcrux, right? Tom Riddle's diary - in the Chamber of Secrets."

"-With a basilisk fang. If you tell me you've got one of those in that bloody beaded bag of yours..." Harry sighs, 

"Don't you see! In the Chamber of Secrets, you stabbed the basilisk with the Sword of Gryffindor. Its blade is impregnated with basilisk venom." Hermione explains. Harry's eyes widen.

"It only takes in that which makes it stronger!"

"Exactly!" Hermione and I say in unison, 

"You're brilliant, Hermione, truly," Harry says, grinning, 

Hermione smiles, "Actually, I'm highly logical, which allows me to look past the extraneous detail and perceive clearly that which others overlook."

Out of the corner of my eyes, I see Ron enter the tent. He glares up at Harry and Hermione, and I stand, still holding my book.

"There's only one problem-"

The lights go off, and I watch as Ron lowers the deluminator. "The sword was stolen." He mutters, before flicking the lights back on. "Yeah, I'm still here. But you two carry on. Don't let me spoil your fun."

"Ron..." I murmur, seeing the locket reflect in the candlelight. 

Harry turns to face him, gritting his teeth, "What's the problem?"

"Problem? There's no problem. Not according to you, anyway." Ron says in a low, quiet voice, seething. 

I can hear rain begin to fall, pattering down on the canvas above us slowly, steadily. I press the book into my chest, biting my lip as fear flickers in my stomach.