HEATHER BLACK AGREED TO DO THE THING THAT NOBODY ELSE COULD TO DO.
Use her animagus form, and protect Harry Potter for fifteen years.
As an owl.
As Hedwig.
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Travis McKinnon wanted nothing more than to do something useful.
So he used his animagus...
Disclaimer: The Harry Potter World belongs to J.K. Rowling.
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"WELL, THIS IS EMPTIER THAN I THOUGHT IT WOULD BE," Travis murmured, glancing around at the street.
There were a few witches and wizards crossing the path to get to the hospital, but other than that, it was silent and empty.
"I suppose it's best to keep it discreet and away from muggles' view," Heather shrugged, taking his hand when he began to trail behind.
"Hurry up, dears," Mrs. Weasley called out to them, and they hastily rushed to catch up to Mrs. Weasley and the other Weasley children, along with Harry and Hermione.
"Sorry," Travis muttered, and as they entered the hospital, the space was busy—a large contrast to the emptiness of the street outside.
It was decorated in a manner that was perfectly suited for the holiday season, with holly and snow-white Christmas trees.
Travis had been here several times throughout his childhood, mainly because his mother often fell ill and had to stay at the hospital, as well as the fact that his sister always managed to get herself injured, whether if it was during one of her Quidditch matches, or just while going through daily life. Most of the time they were healed by Madam Pomfrey, but sometimes she had to be sent to St. Mungos.
One time, Marlene had been sent to the hospital for falling off her broom and then getting hit by a bludger as she fell. She'd suffered from several broken ribs, a broken arm and a massive bruise in her side, which had been mostly healed by Madam Pomfrey. However, when Travis' parents had heard of it, they insisted Marlene be taken to St. Mungos.
The reception area alone brought back memories of Travis' energetic, constantly-excited sister—and he couldn't decide if the memories made him feel happy or sad.
Maybe both.
Definitely both.
He knew he was supposed to be following the others, but he found himself stopping in the reception area, frozen in the spot.
When Mrs. Weasley realised he'd stopped, she turned back to gently urge him to hurry, but then she saw the tears in his eyes and instead told him, "You can wait here, dear, if you'd like. Just come up when you're ready, alright?"
Travis nodded numbly.
He never got to say goodbye to his sister. He hadn't gone on that mission with her, and she never came back. He'd been at school—and had only gotten a letter about her death a week after she'd passed away.
He remembered being impossibly angry at the Order for not telling him. He remembered wanting to scream and cry—and he did just that.
But above all, he felt empty. Loss.
He refused to cry. No.
Blinking back tears, he hurried up the way that Mrs. Weasley and the others had gone up, nearly running into several people in his rush and lack of attention to the people around him.
