Some things stick with you forever. For me, it's May 2, 1998. The Battle of Hogwarts. The day I lost some good friends. The day my second home became a war zone. The day a man I once trusted showed his true colors.
The biggest thing then was survivi...
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I fell to my knees, panting, my heart flying. That was too close. I couldn't believe I suggested going back to Godric's Hollow. Merlin, why did Neville indulge in my want to go home? Why did I keep on about it? We're both idiots.
"Jenelle," Neville panted as he hoisted me up under my arms. "Are you okay?"
"Fine, fine," I said shakily. Neville helped me brush myself off. "Why did you take us there?"
"I figured it'd cheer you up."
"Thanks for being considerate, but I'm going to have to yell at you for it. You were right; I was blinded by my love for my home that I ignored your truth." I looked around. It didn't look like the Forest of Dean, but it was definitely somewhere different, a new area of forest. The sun started to set through the trees. Behind me, some distance from us, I could hear a roaring stream of rapids. "Where are we?"
"I don't know exactly. I just thought a forest was a good place to be since it worked well for us last time." Neville shrugged.
"Do you think they got a hold of us and followed?" I asked hesitantly.
"We would've felt them holding on if they had."
That made me breathe a little easier. "Should we make camp here? The sun is setting."
"Unless you prefer to go hiking in the dark."
"We're camping here then. Do you mind if I do the enchantments with you?" I asked him. "I haven't learned them by heart, but we did it once before. I'll follow you, like last time."
Neville started walking off behind where we had landed, I trotted after him. "We need a wide range of protection."
"I'm ready when you are."
"Make sure you pronounce them clearly," Neville reminded me.
"Are you going to keep telling me what to do, or are we going to get a move on?" I teased.
"Right, right. Salvio Hex—"
The cutoff in Neville's voice made me worried. "Neville?" I asked quietly, coming to his side.
I should've run, that was the first thing that came to mind. The men in front of us rose from their crouches. Dark hair, blue eyes...Adam. Red hair, green eyes...Luke. Caramel hair, brown eyes...their newest recruit.
"What do we do?" I whispered, feeling a sense of déjà vu creeping up on me.
"Hand over the girl," Luke hissed at Neville.
"Not on your life," Neville growled, shoving me behind him with one arm, the other holding out his wand.
"If you won't give her, we'll take her," said the new Death Eater. "It won't be pretty."
