the lucky one

gone

Fall begins to turn into winter, everything is dead and barren. Everyone is dead and buried. Scraggly trees stripped of their leaves, cold wind a bitter howl against the frosted windowpanes of Snape's house. The chill seeps deep pithing Miranda's bones, only increasing the numbness of her current state.

They have Snatcher duties almost every other day. She can barely keep up. She's tired all the time. But she doesn't mind. It gives her less time to think. And she can't stop. If she stops her mind drifts. To green eyes and messy hair and whispered 'I love yous'.

Voldemort's ranks are growing, increasing at a faster rate than when he came into power all those years ago. Miranda and Mateo have seen classmates, teachers, store owners alike all assisting the Dark Lord, out of fear or dedication they do not know. Voldemort's name is Taboo now, making it so much easier for the Death Eaters to locate anyone who dares defy their ranks.

Miranda and Mateo haven't heard from Snape in weeks. Haven't heard from anyone in weeks. They have no information and it's driving them insane.

Miranda sits on the chair opposite Matt, slowly healing his cuts and bruises while she elevates her swollen ankle. They had been grossly outnumbered this time, and if not for their abilities, probably wouldn't have made it out alive.

She is used to the pain by now. It is an almost welcome distraction from everything else.

"There are so many of them now Matt," she says with a large exhale, wincing slightly as she adjusts her leg. "If it continues like this we won't be able to fight back." Her chest tightens at the thought of Harry, Hermione, and Ron somewhere out there. Alone. Vulnerable. She's heard the murmurs. Seen the wanted posters plastered through every town.

"I know," Mateo mutters, running a hand over his newly healed face. "But Severus hasn't given us any new instruction, we'll just have to do our best." Personally, Miranda doesn't want to hear anything Severus has to say. She still doesn't trust him. Not to mention he's been Dumbledore's little puppet for sixteen years, and she has lost all faith in the professor since his death.

Miranda pulls her now chin length hair into a small stub of a ponytail. "I'm starved," she declares. "Do we have any food that's not canned?"

"No," he shakes his head. "Provisions are low. Grady can't get food anymore it's too risky for him to leave the house."

Miranda groans, slumping down in her seat. Everything aches, her arms, back, legs, feet, head. The plus side is that she now has a very cool scar on her left shoulder just below her collarbone. A reminder of a pretty intense battle between her and Theodore Nott, her dreaded cousin, in which she left him stunned on the forest floor. That was a good day. A fond memory, believe it or not. At a time like this, she'd take what she could get.

Mateo sighs and grabs an old newspaper off the floor, reading for what must be the hundredth time the story about the alleged break in at the Ministry. Miranda wonders silently if they found a Horcrux.

"Do you think they're making progress?" asks Miranda, somewhat cautiously. She can't allow herself to dwell on it too much. She just has to trust.

Mateo pauses a moment, eyes tired. "I hope so," he says, softly.

"We haven't seen them in any other news though," she replies, unable to let it go. Miranda gnaws on the corner of her inner cheek.

"They're probably hiding somewhere," Mateo offers. "Though," he amends quietly, "not at Grimmauld Place. Severus said they'd gone in his last letter."

Miranda scoffs, remembering that letter with perfect clarity. It had been brief. Unsatisfying. And it hadn't even explained why Snape had been at Grimmauld Place to begin with. "That was weeks ago. They could be anywhere. They could be—"