HP&SB: The Deathly Hallows

Chapter 8

Chapter 8/ Moving On

Early the next morning, before Ron and Hermione had woken, I left the tent to search around in the woods for the oldest, most tattered-looking tree I could find and buried Mad Eye's eye in the ground beneath it. I marked the spot by carving a small cross into the bark with my wand, stepping back afterwards to study my handiwork.

It wasn't much, but I had feeling that Mad-Eye would have rather liked it, or at least would've preferred it to being stuck on Dolores Umbridge's door. Pleased, I had returned back to the tent to wait for the other two to wake and discuss what to do next.

Both Hermione and I had decided that it was best not to stay in any one place too long, and Ron agreed, with the sole proviso that our next move would put us in reach of a bacon sandwich. Hermione then removed the enchantments around the clearing, while Ron and I removed all the impressions and marks on the ground that might show we had been there.

We all knew that, after we left here, any chance of Siri returning was slim. But we had all reassured each other- She had left, she would be fine on her own.

Then we disapparated to the outskirts of a small town.

We quickly pitched our tent in the shelter of a small group of trees, and surrounded it with freshly cast defensive enchantments. Satisfied with our protection, I ventured out under the invisibility cloak to find proper food. It was harder than expected.

I had barely reached the nearest town when an unnatural cold took hold of me, coming in with a crawling mist and a sudden dark of sky that made me freeze where I stood. I couldn't move forward, so I raced back to the tent, not stopping till I burst inside.

"But you can make a brilliant patronus!" Ron had cried when I arrived, empty handed and gasping out the word 'dementors'.

"I couldn't make one!" I panted, clutching the painful stitch in my side. "It wouldn't come."

Hermione's and Ron's expression both were of disappointment and mild annoyance, and part of me felt ashamed. But it had been horrifying, seeing a dementor gliding out of the mist towards me, and realizing, almost too late, as the paralyzing cold stung my lungs, that it was flight or fight.

And I hadn't found it in me to fight.

I had run, and it had taken all my willpower to actually uproot myself from the spot and run, leaving the dementors to glide amongst the muggles, who might not be able to see them, but would assuredly feel them, and the despair and horror they cast wherever they went.

"So, we still haven't got any food." Ron complained, hanging his head.

"Shut up, Ron." Hermione snapped. "Harry, what happened? Why do you think you couldn't make a patronus? You managed perfectly fine the other day!"

"I don't know." I sighed, sitting low in one of Perkin's old armchairs, feeling more embarrassed by the second. Today I might've of been thirteen years old again, the only one who fainted on the Hogwarts express.

Ron kicked a chair leg, causing the chair to fly a few inches into the air before crashing down.

"What?" He snarled at Hermione, who looked taken aback at his sudden movement. "I'm starving! All I've had since I've half bled to death is a couple of toadstools!"

"You go and fight your way though the dementors, then." I said, frowning at him. Ron rolled his eyes.

"I would, but my arm's in a sling. In case you haven't noticed."

"That's convenient."

"And what's the supposed to-?"

"Of course!" Hermione cried suddenly, clapping her hand to her forehead and startling both Ron and I into silence. "Harry, give me the locket! Come on!" She said, snapping her fingers at me when I didn't react with anything but complete confusion. "The horcruxe! Harry, you're still wearing it!"