Emily Potter - Book 7 - The Deathly Hallows

Chapter 16: In His Hands

A grand howl of wind greeted Emily as she stepped outside to the backyard, closing the pub door behind her. Near the iron grates that served as a fence for the pub, there nestled several wooden crates that had been once used to carry new deliveries of wine bottles and other alcoholic beverages. Emily took one and settled it under the hawthorn tree where an already growing puddle of fallen leaves settled at the roots.

"Hear me, Harry." Emily thought deeply within her mind, mustering every bit of power she had to connect with her brother. "Listen to me." She closed her eyes and cleared her head, trying to grasp at the thinnest trace of Harry's voice.

But to no avail, the sole thing that met her ears was the sound of leaves piling up on each other. Emily opened her eyes and saw projected on the mossy ground by the fair light of the moon, two silhouettes standing behind her quite similar to an executioner standing over the wrongly accused lodged in a guillotine.

With a chill running to her back, Emily stood up and began to run to the pub door. The sound of a rough and heavy object shot through the air and whacked the base of her skull, collapsing the girl on the dirt floor, blackening her vision to none. As her brain began to shut off, the sound of two pairs of boots coming forward to her body echoed through her mind. The gruff touch of them picking her up and grabbing the eyeglasses from her face made her angry.

"How foolish can I be?" The Potter girl thought to herself, almost feeling the sensation of sleep overtake her. "Rendered useless by a log of wood... How stupid."

~

Harry, Hermione, and Ron walk deep into the woods of Godric's Hollow. The trio had traveled in search of clues or anything that Emily and her friends might have overlooked. They first sought the rubble of Bathilda Bagshot's house, and true to the news, nothing was saved from the cottage but the floor itself. After a disheartening investigation, Harry carried on to the cemetery to visit his parents.

It was an oddly comforting thing to see a bouquet of flowers that had wilted upon Lily and James' headstone, it was a kind reminder that his sister was where he stood right now.

"I told you, Emily didn't leave any clues here." Harry pointed out yet again to Hermione as they slapped away overgrown tree branches from their path. They had begun to look through the woods for any peculiar.

Hermione sighed. "Well, we have nothing to go on, Harry. You said she tried to contact you last night."

"She was probably just checking up on us,"

"Then how come she didn't have a full conversation with you?" Harry kept his mouth shut, unable to answer. Hermione huffed, "That's what I thought."

"Have you tried... You know, contacting her?" Ron suggested. Harry nodded, rehashing the moment when he did try to establish a connection but all he got was dead silence. Out of the blue, a sharp pain dwelled at his neck. He fell down on the patch of fallen leaves, her breath beginning to thin. Hermione and Ron quickly went on their knees to aid him, their hands supporting his back and shoulders.

"The sorting hat.... Sword... - "

"I hear something – " Harry whispered, closing his eyes in hopes of blocking out the pain and letting Emily's voice enter. "Sword of Gryffindor." With one big breath, Harry let himself go and sink in the leaves, cold sweat covering him like a blanket. "I think... I think Emily left us something way before any of us realized. Including her."

Ron exchanged a baffled look with Hermione before turning to face his best mate. "What are going at? Did you hear something?"

"It was just a few words, but it was easy enough to connect." He looked at the pouch strapped across Hermione's body, "Dumbledore left it in his will for Emily, it wasn't a reminder. The sorting hat – "