mirrorball

chapter seventeen

She stepped back, cutting off the kiss quickly. Harry's hands fell to his side and he looked at Clara. His face looked like a strange combination of shocked, angry, and lustful. "Harry," she said, "What-"

"I-" he began. He ran a hand through his hair and looked down at his ruffled shirt, as if he couldn't believe Clara had just been against his chest. "I don't know.... That shouldn't have happened."

He began to walk out of the bedroom and Clara grabbed his wrist. "Harry! Wh-"

"This was a mistake," he said coldly, shaking free of her grip immediately and turning away from her. He left quickly and Clara shrunk down on to the floor. 

As of today she had found devastating news about her best friend, been toppled over by a dresser, been yelled at by her ex-boyfriend, made out with her ex-boyfriend, and now all she was chocked up to be was a mistake. A mistake? Clara pulled her knees to her chest and put her head into her hands. She felt like an idiot. A complete and total idiot.

It was nearly dawn when she thought about Luna again, alone in a cell inAzkaban, surrounded by dementors, and she suddenly felt ashamed of herself. She should be more worried about her best friend and not about something as silly as a kiss. A few tears fell from Clara's eyes and she quickly stuffed her face down into her pillow to dry them. If only they could rescue her, but dementors in those numbers would be virtually unassailable. Clara wasn't even sure she could cast a Patronus anymore. All of her happiness seemed gone. She drifted off to bed slowly, her mind racing at ideas of how to break in to Azkaban.

They packed up the tent next morning and moved on through a dreary shower of rain. The downpour pursued them to the coast, where they pitched the tent that night, and persisted through the whole week, through sodden landscapes that Clara found bleak and depressing. It seemed that Harry also found the scenery quite sad, because his attitude was worse than ever and he always seemed deep in thought. His eyebrows were constantly furrowed and Clara thought that he'd have prominent frown lines at twenty if he kept on as he was. Harry had also not talked to her since their kiss and it seemed that he was reverting back to giving Clara the silent treatment. That was fine with her, she needed to focus on saving Luna, and right now that meant focusing on finding the Horcruxes as fast as possible.

As the weeks crept on, Clara could not help but notice, even through his new self-absorption, that Ron seemed to be taking charge. Perhaps because he was determined to make up for having walked out on them, perhaps because Harry's descent into listlessness galvanized his dormant leadership qualities, Ron was the one now encouraging and exhorting the other three into action. "Three Horcruxes left," he kept saying. "We need a plan of action, come on! Where haven't we looked? Let's go through it again. The orphanage . . . " 

Diagon Alley, Hogwarts, the Riddle House, Borgin and Burkes,Albania, every place that they knew Tom Riddle had ever lived or worked, visited or murdered, Hermione, Clara, and Ron raked over them again, Harry joining in only to stop Hermione pestering him.

 "You never know," was Ron's constant refrain. "Upper Flagley is a Wizarding village, he might've wanted to live there. Let's go and have a poke around."

One dark, cloudy morning after brushing her teeth, Clara slipped out of the bathroom to find her friends huddled around a radio with excited looks on their faces. "Well, who wouldn't want a nice little holiday after all the hard work he's been putting in?" asked Fred. Clara raced to join them.

"Is that?"

"Yeah!" said Ron, a large smile on his face, "It's Fred! He's talking with Lupin, Kingsley, and Lee." 

"Point is, people, don't get lulled into a false sense of security, thinking he's out of the country. Maybe he is, maybe he isn't, but the fact remains he can move faster than Severus Snape confronted with shampoo when he wants to, so don't count on him being a long way away if you're planning to take any risks." continued Fred from the radio. "I never thought I'd hear myself say it, but safety first!" 

"Thank you very much for those wise words, Rapier," said Lee. "Listeners, that brings us to the end of another Potterwatch. We don't know when it will be possible to broadcast again, but you can be sure we shall be back. Keep twiddling those dials: The next password will be 'Mad-Eye.' Keep each other safe: Keep faith. Good night." 

The radio's dial twirled and the lights behind the tuning panel went out. Harry, Ron, and Hermione were still beaming. Clara let out a sigh of relief, hearing those words was like waking from a long sleep. "Good, eh?" said Ron happily. 

"Brilliant," said Harry. 

"It's so brave of them," sighed Hermione admiringly. "If they were found . . . " 

"Well, they keep on the move, don't they?" said Ron. "Like us."

"But did you hear what Fred said?" asked Harry excitedly. "He's abroad! He's still looking for the Wand, I knew it!" 

"Harry— "

"Come on, Hermione, why are you so determined not to admit it? Vol— " 

"HARRY, NO!" 

"—demort's after the Elder Wand!" 

"The name's Taboo!" Ron bellowed, leaping to his feet as aloud crack sounded outside the tent. "I told you, Harry, I told you, we can't say it anymore—we've got to put the protection back around us—quickly—it's how they find— " But Ron stopped talking, and Clara knew why. The Sneakoscope on the table had lit up and begun to spin; they could hear voices coming nearer and nearer: rough, excited voices. Clara could hear the blood pumping into her heart as her chest rose faster and faster, her pulse racing harshly.

Ron pulled the Deluminator out of his pocket and clicked it: Their lamps went out. 

"Come out of there with your hands up!" came a rasping voice through the darkness. "We know you're in there! You've got half a dozen wands pointing at you and we don't care who we curse!"