I Solemnly Swear | Fillie

The Broken Hunt

Caleb shrugs, "Tossed it at Gaten once when he was snoring, might've popped open." She smiles and then rises, collecting her books and blanket. "Millie..." Words fail him.

She reaches out and lightly strokes his hair as she heads toward the tent. "Don't ever let me give you a haircut again."

Golden streetlights glimmer along a narrow road leading to the center of town. Christmas decorations twinkle in the windows of small cottages, roofs blanketed in snow.

Millie tightens the scarf around her neck and adjusts her magenta beanie, "I still think we should've used Polyjuice Potion."

Caleb buttons the top two buttons of his coat, "No. This is where I was born. I'm not returning as someone else." He holds out his arm and Millie takes it as they move off. "Mind holding my wand? It doesn't fit in my pocket."

Millie smirks, "I told you, that coat doesn't match that sweater. There goes yet another reason why you should always listen to me." He simply rolls his eyes with a hint of a smile as she puts his wand in her pocket.

Caleb and Millie walk, arms linked. A pub door opens briefly and laughter and music spill forth. "Caleb, I think it's Christmas Eve!Listen..." Her voice is wistful. As they listen, voices carry from the church up ahead.

Caleb eyes the graveyard beyond. "Do you think they'd be in there? My mum and dad?"

Millie looks over at him with sympathy running across her face, "Yeah. I think they would."

The signing is full and rich here as Caleb and Millie make their way through the snow toward the graveyard. Caleb peers up at the stained glass windows glittering over him. He pushes through a gate, then lets go of Millie's hand, row upon row of snowy tombstones stretch before him.

Caleb turns away and walks off. Millie walks amid the stones, studying the names, then stops by an extremely old grave. She crouches. "Lumos." She plays the wand's light over the surface of the stone, then stops.

Though deeply worn by time, the symbol is unmistakable, the triangular eye. She rakes the light over the name: IGNOTUS PEVERELL. "Ignotus... Hey, Cal–!" She stops. Caleb stands several rows away. Utterly still.

As he stares at the tombstones of his parents, he reads aloud the quote, "The last enemy that shall be destroyed is death."

Millie appears next to him and looks over to see that tears are streaming down his cheeks. Millie raises her wand and traces a circle in the air and a wreath of christmas roses blossom in the snow.

Caleb nods, staring at them. "Happy Christmas, Millie."

"Happy Christmas, Caleb." Millie laces her arm around his waist and he drapes his arm over her shoulder. They stand silently.

The next night, once they're back at camping, Caleb walks up to Millie, who is leaning against a tree with a book on her lap, "Where's my wand? I'll take the watch."

Millie hesitates. Her expression makes him apprehensive. "Millie. Where's my wand?" She points. There, lying by the fire, is a shattered stick. He picks it up gently, sees that it is nearly severed in two. One fragile strand of phoenix feather holds it together.

"It's my fault. As we were leaving Godric's Hollow, after having dinner at that pub, I saw Scabior the Snatcher and got scared so I cast a curse and it rebounded... I'm sorry, Caleb, I tried to mend it but wands are different."

Caleb purses his lips and pats her on her knee, "It's done." His tone puts an end to it. She nods. "Leave me yours. You get back in the warm. And give me that."