There were leaves in my mouth as I screamed out in pain. I was on my back on the ground and could hear crunching around me. My breath was caught in my chest as I panted and wheezed— I couldn't breathe. Every nerve in my body was taunted and I was on edge. Being disoriented and in pain, in an unknown place, was terrifying.
"Lottie?" a voice called out.
I tried to move, but as I did, I felt my lungs cry out in pain, hot fire falling down my side. My vision blurred as I tried to breathe and catch my breath, all while my screams grew louder as I forced myself to move, causing me to screw my eyes closed once more.
"Lottie, stay still!" Harry's voice sounded distant and pressure was placed on my shoulders.
"Harry, quickly, in my bag, there's a small bottle labelled 'Essence of Dittany'," Hermione's voice said further than his.
"Hermione, I can't— I— okay," he sputtered.
There was another rustle by me and Hermione shouted at Harry to hurry— he Summoned it. I tried to move again, but I grew dizzy as I did. My screams stopped as it grew harder and harder to catch my breath. I felt as though I was dying if this is what it felt like: Tunnelling vision and radiating pain.
"Harry," I groaned and opened my eyes to a squint.
I was eye level with the ground and saw all types of trees. Hermione and Harry were a few feet away from me, looking over someone. It was Ron.
"It's all I feel safe doing," said Hermione shakily. "There are spells that would put him completely right, but I daren't try in case I do them wrong and cause more damage... He's lost so much blood already..."
" 'Mione," I moaned, catching my breath.
I saw both of them run over to me. Hermione grabbed my robes and ripped them, exposing my torso and chest.
"I didn't even see you'd been— oh, Merlin," Hermione muttered. She then poured something on me: It was hot and cold and burned badly, but the pain started to go away. I hissed at the burn and groaned as my heart began to slow down from its rapid rhythm.
Again, I moved from my laying position to sit up. My head spun and I felt hot liquid go down my front., Touching my left ribs, I saw my fingers stained with red. With my other hand, I wiped the sweat from my face and fixed my robes, to not expose myself.
"What happened?" I asked in disbelief.
"You and Ron got Splinched," Hermione said.
"How do you feel?" said Harry.
"Like I got Splinched," I mumbled. "Bloody hell, I thought I was dying. That was more terrifying than the first time. I'll be alright though. Is Ron okay?"
"He should be," frowned Hermione.
"How? I mean —" I shook my head (bad idea, my brain swirled)— "why are we here? I thought we were going back to Grimmauld Place?"
"I don't think we're going to be able to go back there."
"What d'you — ?"
"As we Disapparated, Yaxley caught hold of me and I couldn't get rid of him, he was too strong, and he was still holding on when we arrived at Grimmauld Place, and then — well, I think he must have seen the door, and thought we were stopping there, so he slackened his grip and I managed to shake him off and I brought us here instead!"
"But then, where's he?" Harry said. "Hang on... You don't mean he's at Grimmauld Place? He can't get in there?"
Her eyes sparkled with unshed tears as she nodded.
"Harry, I think he can. I — I forced him to let go with a Revulsion Jinx, but I'd already taken him inside the Fidelius Charm's protection. . ."
"Hermione," I breathed.
"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry!"
"Don't be stupid, it's not your fault!" I reassured her.
"If anything, it was mine," Harry put his hand in his pocket and drew out Mad-Eye's eye.
Hermione and I scrunched up our faces in horror.
"Umbridge had stuck it to her office door, to spy on people. I couldn't leave it there... but that's how they knew there were intruders."
Before Hermione or I could answer, Ron groaned and opened his eyes. He was grey and his face glistened with sweat.
"How d'you feel?" Hermione whispered.
"Lousy," croaked Ron, wincing as he felt his injured arm.
"I know you're against muggle medicine but I took one of my Mum's suture kits and First Aid kits," I said. "I can sew your arm, I'm not too bad."
"Stitches?" Ron's eyes slightly widened.
"Or some Healer spells I learned last year," I added.
Ron shook his head, "Where are we?"
"In the woods where they held the Quidditch World Cup," said Hermione. "I wanted somewhere enclosed, undercover, and this was —"
"— the first place you thought of," Harry finished for her.
"It's not as bad as my first place," I groaned. "There were Death Eaters there!"
"D'you reckon we should move on?" Ron asked Harry, and I could tell by the look on Ron's face that he was thinking the same.
"I dunno."
Ron still looked pale and clammy. He had made no attempt to sit up and it looked as though he was too weak to do so. The prospect of moving him was daunting.
"Let's stay here for now," Harry said.
Looking relieved, Hermione sprang to her feet and helped me up to my feet. I wobbled for a second before the world stopped spinning. I may not have lost as much blood as Ron did, but it did hold such effect on me.
"What are you doing?" asked Ron.
"Trying not to teeter over," I mumbled as Hermione said, "If we're staying, we should put some protective enchantments around the place."
"I'd help you, but I feel like I'm about to lose my breakfast if I move anymore," I said.
"Don't worry, Lotts," Hermione said. "Harry, you could get out the tent."
"Tent?"
"In the bag!"
"In the— of course," said Harry.
Slowly, I walked over to where Harry stood by the small beaded bag on the floor. He pulled out a tent as I stumbled over my own feet. Staying true to my word, I felt my stomach flip and my mind spin.
"I thought this belonged to that bloke Perkins at the Ministry?" he asked, starting to disentangle the tent pegs.
"Apparently he didn't want it back, his lumbago's so bad," said Hermione, now performing complicated figure-of-eight movements with her wand, "so Ron's dad said I could borrow it. Erecto!" she added, pointing her wand at the misshapen canvas.
Turning to look at Hermione, I doubled over, trying to not retch the contents of my stomach. I played it off by twisting my torso, cracking my back. It felt horrible, the wound on my ribs twisted as I did and I felt the sting. I hissed and shot up, standing straight.
"Cave Inimicum," Hermione finished with a skyward flourish. "That's as much as I can do. At the very least, we should know they're coming, I can't guarantee it will keep out Vol —"
"Don't say the name!" Ron cut across her, his voice harsh.
Harry, Hermione, and I looked at each other. Their figures were slightly blurred as I did.
"I'm sorry," Ron said, moaning a little as he raised himself to look at them, "but it feels like a — a jinx or something. Can't we call him You-Know-Who — please?"
"Dumbledore said fear of a name —" began Harry.
"In case you hadn't noticed, mate, calling You-Know-Who by his name didn't do Dumbledore much good in the end," Ron snapped back. "Just — just show You-Know-Who some respect, will you?"
"Really, Ron?" I grumbled, holding my spinning head.
"Are you alright, Lottie?" Harry said, walking over to me.
"I– yeah," I said, trying to play off my discomfort. Taking a deep breath, I started to walk to the large tent. "I just– maybe if I sit down I'll feel —"
But my legs and voice failed me as I fell forward. I felt arms grasp my waist as I made it towards the ground. Apparently, losing blood and stressing a magical wound takes a lot out of someone.
It wasn't very bright when I opened my eyes again and, this time, I was in a bed, not on the forest floor. Based on the lack of sun, I reckoned it was nightfall. Though I wasn't on a bed of leaves, I was still on my stomach. Moving my shoulder blades, I felt the sting of my wound and the thick bandage on it. It was either Hermione or Harry who dressed my wound, probably Hermione as she'd gotten a first aid lesson from my mum the summer before our sixth year.
On the other side of the tent, I saw Harry and Ron talking in hushed voices. Hermione was nowhere to be found.
"Where's Hermione?" I croaked.
Both boys snapped their necks to me.
"Charlotte!" they chorused.
Harry got up and helped me to a sitting position. He brought me a cup of tea— it was earl grey with the slightest splash of milk, how I liked it. Ron smiled at me from his own bed.
"How're you feeling?"
"Truthfully? Horrible, but I don't feel faint anymore," I answered Harry's question.
"Hermione put loads of muggle antiseptics and stuff," said Harry.
"Where is she?"
"On watch," a voice said from outside the tent. "Every six hours we switch— well, Harry and me. You two are too hurt —"
"No," I said quickly, "I'm okay now! Let me help."
"No, I'm 'bout to switch with Hermione, you stay here," Harry demanded.
Harry left the tent and went into the forest with his Sneakoscope. I stayed with Hermione and Ron, who spoke in hushed giggling voices, trying not to roll my eyes at their little affections. Obviously, I was happy that my best friends were happy, but the little envious voice in my head longed for love like that. After watching them for about an hour, I groaned and got up, deciding it was my turn to guard the tent regardless of what they said.
Walking outside, I saw Harry's unconscious body sprawled against the side of the tent. I quickly run over to him, shouting his name. Harry's eyes shot open as he panted, slapping his hand on his forehead. Footsteps could be heard from behind me and soon Hermione appeared next to me.
"Dream," he said, sitting up quickly and attempting to meet my glare with a look of innocence. "Must've dozed off, sorry."
"I know it was your scar! I can tell by the look on your face! You were looking into Vol —"
"Don't say his name!" came Ron's angry voice from the depths of the tent.
"Fine," I retorted. "You-Know-Who's mind, then!"
"I didn't mean it to happen!" Harry said.
"You need to control it!" Hermione said from beside me.
"It was a dream! Can you control what you dream about, Hermione?"
"If you just learned to apply Occlumency —"
But Harry didn't seem to want to be told off by Hermione about Occlumency.
"I think I'd better take over the watch if you're so tired you're falling asleep," said Hermione coldly.
"I can do—" I started but they both shot me a look.
"No, Lottie, you take him inside and then get back to bed," Hermione instructed.
I gave Harry a sad look, knowing he'd lose this battle against Hermione. Harry ducked back inside as I followed him.
Ron's still-pale face was poking out from the lower bunk; Harry climbed into the one above him, lay down, and looked up at the dark canvas ceiling. I walked over to mine and Hermione's bunk, sighing in relief.
"At least I don't have to watch them two mack on each other," I laughed to Harry.
"Mack?" Ron asked, turning to face me from his bunk.
"Kiss, snog, be all googly-eyed," I said.
"We weren't— I didn't— Y-you're just upset because you don't have anyone to—"
"Ron, I'd watch it if I were you," I narrowed my eyes to him. "Once you heal, I won't be too hesitant to give you a cute shiner to match your arm."
"Come off it, yea?" Ron dismissed me. "I don't know if you're jealous of—"
"Jealous? Why would I be jealous?" I scoffed.
"Always giving Hermione and me glares, maybe you... fancy me or whatever," I could see his flush in the soft light.
"You must think so highly of yourself," I glared. "I don't like you like that, you doofus..."
"Like Hermione instead?" I could hear the teasing nature in his voice.
"I rather her than you," I laughed, grateful this wasn't turning into an actual argument. "But no, I just... I don't know, you guys would laugh at me or whatever."
"Is it about Malfoy?" Ron said softly.
"What's You-Know-Who doing, Harry?" I changed the subject.
"Nah, Lottie! Tell us," Ron groaned. "Come on, we're your best mates, you've got to. Give us something else to think about besides these bloody Horcruxes!"
"I would but you guys— Ugh, okay, but you're not allowed to react or get mad, alright?" I warned. Harry seemed interested in this as well and propped himself up to look over the top bunk to see me better.
"Alright, go on," Ron encouraged.
"It is about Draco."
"We knew that, tell us what's wrong," said Harry.
"I feel like I'm being interrogated by my brothers! Jeez, I don't even have any," I chuckled nervously.
"You do, us! After the past three 'n' a half years, I s'pose," Ron admitted.
"That makes it even worse," I laughed.
"Come on then!"
"I like Draco," I whispered.
Harry looked down at Ron, who looked up at him; they gave each other knowing grins and turned to me, "we knew that. Anyone with eyes could see that."
"Lotts, that's not a secret," Hermione called from outside.
"Shut up and be our lookout," I laughed.
"Come on, tell us what's actually wrong," Ron smiled.
I bit my lip nervously at the anticipation of telling them. I could tell they wanted to support me and be there for me, but I also knew how much they hate Draco— how much I should hate Draco, he tried to murder Dumbledore.
"Before everything went down at the end of the last term," I said anxiously, "Draco... admitted that h-he loves me."
Harry and Ron didn't say anything, showed no expression on their faces.
"That's it?" Ron cleared his throat.
"And... I think might as well."
At this, Harry and Ron looked at each other. They looked more shocked than angry, not knowing what to say or do.
"You did? As in... past tense," Harry coughed. "I-I mean, after everything..."
I cleared my throat and looked at the two boys who seemed to convince themselves that I meant prior to this war.
"H-he's my happy memory," I shrugged, teary-eyed. Harry's mouth dropped into a little 'o' at the realization of my ability to make my Patronus.
"Um, yeah, so I think I'm gonna sleep," I whispered, looking at the faces of Ron and Harry.
Hermione didn't say anything from outside the tent; the boys didn't say anything when I turned away from them. Pulling the blanket over my head, I made up little happy scenarios of all the things that could have been if Draco hadn't signed his life away to Lord Voldemort.
Harry, Hermione, and I felt that it was best not to stay anywhere too long, and Ron agreed, with the sole proviso that our next move took us within reach of a bacon sandwich. Hermione and I, after much convincing, therefore, removed the enchantments we had placed around the clearing, while Harry and Ron obliterated all the marks and impressions on the ground that might show we had camped there. Then we Disapparated to the outskirts of a small market town.
A few moments later, Harry came back empty-handed, out of breath, and mouthing the single word, dementors.
"But you can make a brilliant Patronus!" protested Ron.
"I couldn't— make one," he panted, clutching the stitch in his side. "Wouldn't— come."
"So we still haven't got any food."
"Shut up, Ron," snapped Hermione. "Harry, what happened? Why do you think you couldn't make your Patronus? You managed perfectly yesterday!"
"I don't know."
No one said anything until Ron kicked a chair leg.
"What?" he snarled at me when I gave him a face. "I'm starving! All I've had since I bled half to death is a couple of toadstools!"
"Oh shut up, Ronald! You're not the only one who got Splinched," I snapped. "You go and fight your way through the dementors!"
Harry gave me a small, grateful smile.
"I would, but my arm's in a sling, in case you hadn't noticed!"
"That's convenient."
"Your ribs're all bandaged up! I don't see you doing —!"
"Back off her, Ron," Harry said defensively.
"Of course!" cried Hermione, clapping a hand to her forehead and startling the three of us into silence. "Harry, give me the locket! Come on," she said impatiently, clicking her fingers at him when he did not react, "the Horcrux, Harry, you're still wearing it!"
"Any better?"
"Yeah, loads better!"
"It's the necklace, it's—"
"Harry," Hermione crouched down in front of Harry, using a kind of voice that someone would use when visiting the sick, "you don't think you've been possessed, do you?"
"What? No!" he said defensively. "I remember everything we've done while I've been wearing it. I wouldn't know what I'd done if I'd been possessed, would I? Ginny told me there were times when she couldn't remember anything."
"Hermione, it's not possessing anyone," I said matter-of-factly. "Although a cursed and dark object, it's not like the necklace Katie Bell touched or Tom Riddle's diary; it's just heavy with the soul of a dark wizard."
"That's not reassuring," she mumbled.
"Better than being possessed," I said.
"Well, maybe we ought not to wear it. We can just keep it in the tent."
"We are not leaving that Horcrux lying around," Harry stated firmly. "If we lose it, if it gets stolen —"
"Fine," I sighed and slipped in over my neck, on top of Draco's necklace, and pulled it under my shirt. "Better now?"
"But we'll take turns wearing it, so nobody keeps it on too long."
"Great," said Ron irritably, "and now we've sorted that out, can we please get some food?"
"Fine, but we'll go somewhere else to find it," said Hermione with half a glance at me. "There's no point staying where we know dementors are swooping around."
In the end, we settled down for the night in a far-flung field belonging to a lonely farm, from which we had managed to obtain eggs and bread.
"It's not stealing, is it?" asked Hermione in a troubled voice, as we devoured scrambled eggs on toast. "Not if I left some money under the chicken coop?"
Ron rolled his eyes and said, with his cheeks bulging, " 'Er-my-knee, 'oo worry 'oo much. 'Elax!"
And, indeed, it was much easier to relax when we were comfortably well-fed: The argument about the dementors was forgotten in laughter that night.
It didn't last long. Between the tense atmosphere of being hungry and the ever-present target over our heads, we quickly became stressed. Whenever lack of food coincided with Ron's turn to wear the Horcrux, he became downright unpleasant.
"So where next?" was his constant refrain. He did not seem to have any ideas himself but expected Harry, Hermione, and I to come up with plans while he sat and brooded over the low food supplies. While Ron sulked about being hungry, Harry, Hermione, and I tried to bounce ideas off of one another in hopes of figuring out where the other three Horcruxes were.
"Yeah, let's go to Albania. Shouldn't take more than an afternoon to search an entire country," said Ron sarcastically.
"There can't be anything there. He'd already made five of his Horcruxes before he went into exile, and Dumbledore was certain the snake is the sixth," said Hermione. "We know the snake's not in Albania, it's usually with Vol —"
"Didn't I ask you to stop saying that?"
"Fine! The snake is usually with You-Know-Who — happy?"
"Not particularly."
"I don't see you coming up with any ideas," I snapped at Ron.
Ron yawned, giving me a pointed look as Harry continued to talk, "I still reckon he might have hidden something at Hogwarts."
"It's not at Hogwart, Harry," I sighed. "Dumbledore would have found it."
Harry repeated the argument he kept bringing out in favour of this theory.
"Dumbledore said in front of me that he never assumed he knew all of Hogwarts's secrets. I'm telling you if there was one place Vol —"
"Oi!"
"YOU-KNOW-WHO, then!" Harry shouted, goaded past endurance. "If there was one place that was really important to You-Know-Who, it was Hogwarts!"
"Oh, come on," scoffed Ron. "His school?"
"Yeah, his school! It was his first real home, the place that meant he was special; it meant everything to him, and even after he left —"
"This is You-Know-Who we're talking about, right? Not you?" inquired Ron. He was tugging at the chain of the Horcrux around his neck.
"You-Know-Who asked Dumbledore to give him a job after he left," I stated.
"Yeah," said Harry.
"And Dumbledore thought he only wanted to come back to try and find something, probably another founder's object, to make into another Horcrux?"
Harry nodded again.
"But he didn't get the job, did he?" I continued. "So he never got the chance to find a founder's object there and hide it in the school!"
"Okay, then," said Harry, defeated. "Forget Hogwarts."
Without any other leads, we travelled into London and, hidden beneath the Invisibility Cloak, searched for the orphanage in which Voldemort had been raised. Hermione went into the library while I searched the office, only to discover that the records had been demolished many years ago.
"We could try digging in the foundations?" Hermione suggested halfheartedly.
"He wouldn't have hidden a Horcrux here," Harry said.
Most of the days were like this; Ron complaining about food, everyone moving our shelter so we wouldn't be found, and passing along the necklace so there wouldn't be any problems.
As the days went on, I figured out that the necklace didn't affect me as it affected Harry, Ron, or Hermione; I suggested for me to continuously wear it, but Hermione quickly shot it down claiming even as a Slytherin Heiress, it wouldn't be safe. Every twelve hours or so they passed the Horcrux between them as though they were playing some perverse, slow-motion game of pass-the-parcel.