Chapter 127

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Y/n's P.O.V.
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Once we are fully shrouded in the darkness of the alley Hermione led us into, she begins to rummage through her tiny beaded purse.

"We need to change." Hermione hurriedly states.

Harry and Ron look at their dress robes, the same ones that I chose not to wear. Molly asked if I would like to wear one since she practically sees me as family at this point, but I turned her down.

As much as I owe Molly and the Weasley's for taking Christopher and I in, becoming our legal guardians when Father died, housing us, and supporting us the whole time... I loathe the thought of having a new family. My family fell apart because I was not strong or determined enough to keep us all together and alive. This one will too if I allow myself to be in it.

Mother was going to escape and live with Molly at my request...and it ended with her being buried six feet under. Father was killed by me and my stubborn ways. And Kiara...I was not enough for her, I should have done more, been there for her more, been a better role model and father figure. It is my fault she left.

In the end...my family is broken, and it is all my fault. It is a burden I will carry with me until the cold, bitter end.

I clench my hand, fingernails stabbing into my palm. Hoping that this will keep my tears and weakness at bay, glaring at the ground.

I always do this. I always have these hateful thoughts. I throw myself a pity party, hoping that it will make the ache and tightness in my chest subside... It never does. Perhaps I should seek professional help... No. It would be better if I did not. If anything were to get out about me seeking mental help it would be a stain on my reputation.

Hermione shoves clothes me into my chest, snapping me out of my depressing spiral. I look at her, startled. I suppose lack of sleep is getting to me and harming my mental state even more.

"You weren't answering when I called your name...multiple times." Hermione cautiously tells me.

I take the clothes she shoved into my chest, a pair of jeans, a T shirt, and a light overcoat.

Ron asks me concerned, "You alright, mate?"

I nod, not wanting to respond verbally because I know I will break down. I avoid Harry's piercing gaze for the same reason.

"Right then. We better be quick now." Hermione says, turning and starting to change.

My eyes dart away immediately, then I grab Ron's shoulders and turn him around. Knowing for a fact that he was staring.

I begin to strip and change into the new clothing, ignoring Harry's obvious glances. The outfit much more tight than anything else I have worn for the day... The shirt is stretched across my lean arms and torso, barely fitting. The jacket I cannot even get on. And the pants are incredibly tight and very obviously too short for me. She most certainly just bought all of our outfits in the same size, not taking into account that I have much more muscle and height on Ron and Harry.

I end up having to give Hermione the jacket back and trying my hardest to situate my pants so that the most private parts of my lower body are not completely on display. Of course, they still are, but just less now.

After everyone is finished Hermione leads us into an all night cafe. The place is shabby, greasy, and completely empty, not counting us. We slide into a random booth, just following Hermione's lead since she is the only one familiar with this place.

With us finally being completely out of harms way, Harry begins to worry for the others, "Do you reckon everyone's alright back at the wedding? Maybe we should-"

I scoff and cut Harry off, "Their main target is you, Harry. Going back would only make things harder for them. Best thing we can do is wait this out."

Harry furrows his brows and frowns deeply. I wish I had sat next to him and not across. Then maybe I could give him comfort to apologize for being so blunt and rude. I sigh and turn my attention out the window.

A waitress walks up and Hermione adds on,
"Y/n's right. Cappuccino, please."

"What she said." Ron states.

Harry tells her, "Same."

It now being my turn to order, I ask the waitress, "Whatever is the strongest, please."

Might as well get something to help me stay awake and alert.

The waitress looks at Harry and says, "Wicked scar."

She then turns and walks away from our booth.

"Where do we go from here? The Leaky Cauldron?" Ron inquires, hoping to know what to expect next.

Hermione replies, shutting down his idea, "Too dangerous. If Voldemort's taken over the Ministry, none of the old places are safe."

Merlin, we can never be sure that we are safe. Until Voldemort is gone, we will have to live in paranoia. Always looking over our shoulders, never trusting anyone.

Wait... We cannot go back to the Burrow. What about Christopher, what about Nyx? I did not even get a chance to day goodbye, for what will be the last time for a long time.

I lower my head then bring my hand and nub onto the sides of my head, right hand tugging at my hair, in a desperate attempt to ground myself.

My thoughts a mess, not being able to hold onto a single one as they swirl around in my head. Then, only one thought sticks.

What if Christopher leaves me too?

He has all the right to. I am abandoning him without any notice, leaving him on his own.

I barely notice the door to the cafe opening and two workmen entering, glancing at us then stepping up to the counter to order.

My thoughts are stomped out by the acute awareness at them acting very suspicious. I straighten up and tune back into the conversation.

"My rucksack. With all my things. I left it at the Burrow-" Harry worries but stops when Hermione shakes her head.

Harry eyes the purse that Hermione showed me so a while ago, wanting to tell me about the enchantment she put on it. The enchantment expands the purse exponentially, leaving tons of room to store anything she needs, and in this case our things.

Harry dead pans at Hermione, "You're joking."

"I've just had the essentials packed for days. Just in case." Hermione explains her, very justifiable, actions.

Ron complains, annoyed, "By the way, these jeans? Not my favorite. Bit tight."

I roll my eyes and reply, "You think you have it bad? My clothes are so tight that all of my body is visible. Leaves absolutely nothing to the imagination."

Ron glances over to my pants, being able to see them clearly as he is sitting next to me. I cover my crotch and push his face away with my nub.

"Eyes to yourself, pervert." I tell Ron, pretending not to notice Harry trying to do the same thing Ron was.

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