𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋 𝐖𝐇𝐎 𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐏𝐏𝐄𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐀𝐑

the one with the crooked halo

"Sometimes you win, sometimes you lose. Except me: I always win."

•

IT WAS ONE OF those days when Harry wished he could see inside Voldemort's mind. He hadn't spoke about it, but he was terrified, because Skylar was taken. Lupin had come and gone after he had a heated row with him, but he knew no one had a clue where Skylar was, what had happened to her, if she was even alive.

"Harry," Hermione spoke softly. It had been four days. They had sent Kreacher out to bring Mundungus Fletcher, who had various of Sirius's possessions. Sirius had returned to Grimmauld Place. He had locked himself in his room at the topmost landing ever since he returned. He hadn't even come down to speak to Lupin. "Why does it sound familiar?"

Harry peered into the journal Skylar had left Hermione. She didn't let him read it, of course, for Skylar had charmed the book in a way that all the contents disappeared when Harry tried to read. Harry laughed bitterly looking at Hermione, "You know I can't see it."

"Oh," Hermione said quietly, before reading out. "What would I get if I added powdered root of Asphodel to an infusion of Wormwood. Why does it sound familiar?"

Harry frowned. It did sound familiar, but it felt like he had heard it so long ago that it was buried under years and years of memories. "It does sound familiar. . ."

"She below it, that Asphodel means: My regrets follow you to the grave. And Wormwood means: bitter sorrow. What can it possibly mean?"

"More importantly," Ron interjected through a mouthful of French onions. "What does it have to do with our mission?"

"It probably doesn't," Hermione said thoughtfully. "Her information is in bits and pieces, like clues. They're not direct. It's as if she wasn't sure herself what to do."

"Like I said, she's only sixteen," Ron shrugged. "Even if she's from the future, a lot of the present has changed since she arrived. Maybe she's now just as lost as we were, talking about flowers."

"Ron. . ."

"I'm sorry, Harry-" he began but Harry waved a dismissive hand.

"Did she write anything about," Harry paused, thinking for the right words. "The casualties."

"Not clearly," Hermione frowned. "There was a page that said: Remus-Dolohov, and she scratched out Dolohov's name and wrote, 'dead'. I think she means that," she shuddered. "That Remus were to die at the hands of Dolohov, but now that Dolohov is dead. . ."

"Remus won't die," Ron said loudly.

"No," Harry said quietly. The thought of losing Remus Lupin was harsh, almost stone cold against his chest. "It's not over, Remus might still die at the hands of someone else."

"Don't say that!" Ron said loudly. "Can we please, not look at people who're going to die and focus on what were doing now?"

Harry sighed. Harry didn't want to argue, but he also liked to be practical. That is why he broke up with Ginny. He hadn't stopped loving her, but it was the practical thing to do. And the practical thing to do was to know who dies in the war and save them, even if they're already saved. The practical thing to do was to stay inside as long as the Death Eaters were gone, and pray that his sister was alright.

"We cannot do anything," Hermione sighed. "But Skylar did mention something about the muggleborn registration thing- the Ministry isn't registering anyone, they're just taking away the wands of the half-bloods and muggleborns, and sending them to Azkaban."