Extinguished 🩵 Harry Potter [2]

viii ⟶ Darkness At The End Of The Tunnel

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viii. Darkness At The
End Of The Tunnel
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THEA LIKES CLEAR, so the fact that they're moving from place to place so fast that time has turned into a foggy blur doesn't sit well with her at all.

It doesn't help that they keep bumping into Snatchers when they visit wizarding villages, and sometimes even in the odd Muggle suburb, and every one of them refers to her as Lyra. It was this that got them out of one sticky situation, when one Snatcher that Thea thinks didn't even know what year it was, actually thought she was Lyra.

So she cursed him so hard that when he passed out, he knocked his friend out too when he flopped over, and they were able to Disapparate.

Ron was completely blown away... Hermione, not so much. Thea's not letting it bother her.

Right now though, Hermione and Ron are at the supermarket to find lunch. She's sitting on a log, next to Harry. Neither of them have spoken in a while, but when they glance at each other at the same time, Thea sighs. The fire they had started roars away before them.

"Harry," she says softly, shuffling up on the log and taking his hand. "Are you alright?"

Harry shakes his head softly. She catches his eyes, and presses the other hand not clutched by his to his cheek. "Then talk to me."

He pauses for a moment.

"If you could have any of the Hallows....which would you choose?"

"The stone," she replies immediately, not even having to think about it.

"Me too."

The crackling of the flames before her ignite a memory, one that was disturbed the other day at Xenophilius' house.

"Don't think I'm mad, but to me there are two versions of my mother," she glances up at him, taking in the softness in his expression. It spurs her on. "Lyra Vincent, the cruel, terrible woman she died as...and Lyra Cindercroft. The one who'd braid my hair, and sing to me, and the one who I'd always turn to when I was lost. I'd quite like to bring her back. Even if she was just an act."

She leans her head on his shoulder. The jolt of warmth that springs through her is so comforting, she leans in further and smiles when he squeezes her hand.

"I would never think you were mad, T."

She laughs a little. "I think you're about the only one, love."

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"That locket was your mum's right?"

Thea's head snaps to Hermione's voice. It's the first time she's initiated a civil conversation with Thea since...since...the thing, so it startles her beyond belief. She can only stare at the girl and blink profusely.

"Well, it was dad's, but you heard Dumbledore's note with it about fire, so I guess it must have something to do with her, why?"

"Because I'm thinking the worst. You don't think there's a chance it could be a..." she watches the frown form in between the girl's brow.

"A Horcrux?"

"Yes," Hermione mutters, dropping Thea's gaze and plucking the locket from her hands.

Thea watches at the girl weighs the metal necklace in her hands, and although she doesn't have it anymore, its heaviness still sits on her.