Digging a grave by hand is harder than one might think.
Not to mention depressing.
But I refuse to use my wand. Dobby deserves more than a half arsed attempt of a burial.
I don't let anyone help me. I need to do this alone. I sweat, I cry and I heave with utter sadness. Another death, because of me. Will this never end?
Once I finish, I wrap Dobby up in a rainbow coloured knitted blanket Fleur gave me. It makes me smile because I know Dobby would have liked that very much. I place him gently in the grave and whisper goodbye.
The beds in Shell Cottage are all taken up by the ill, so I make do with sleeping on the sofa. I get the feeling that Fleur is a little put out by all these unexpected visitors but we cannot do much else whilst we wait for our party to recover.
I try not to think about Draco and push down the guilt I feel when I realise too late that I'd accidentally snatched his wand too.
There isn't a lot I can do about it now, other than to formulate a plan of my next move.
"You're not going after the Elder wand then?" Ron asks when I share with him and Hermione my plan to hunt down the next Horcrux with Griphook's help.
"Nah," I mutter. "May as well get on with what Dumbledore wanted me to. There's no point living in a world until every piece of Who-Know-Who is gone."
I cringe at using this name, but seeing as Voldemort is taboo, I'm kind of stuck sounding like a coward.
"And you think we can trust him?" Hermione asks weakly, still very fragile from her bout of torture at Bellatrix's wand.
"We saved that little shit's life." I snarl. "He owes us."
One blustery April evening, two weeks after we had arrived at Shell Cottage, I help Fleur prepare the dinner, chopping up steaks and vegetables.
"I'm sorry for this intrusion," I say to her, "I never meant for you to have to deal with all of this."
Her somewhat irritable expression softens.
"Mr Ollivander leaves for Muriel's zis evening. Zat will make things easier. Ze goblin," she scowls, "can move downstairs, and you can take zat room."
"I don't mind sleeping on the sofa," I say thinking that I need to keep Griphook happy if I want to carry out my plan. "And we'll be off your hands soon, too - Ron, Hermione and I. We don't need to be here much longer."
A loud bang on the front door makes us jump. Bill, who was sitting reading a paper at the kitchen table leaps to his feet, his wand pointing towards the door.
"Who is it?" he calls.
"It is I, the good looking Weasley twin!" a very familiar voice calls over the howling wind outside. "I am here in place of Dad to escort Mr Ollivander to our Aunt Muriel's house."
Trembling, I lower the knife I am holding, my heart beating so fast. Fred. It has been over eight months since I have seen him.
I go to rush towards the door but Fleur grabs my arm stopping me. "It could be a trap, 'Arri. We were expecting Arthur."
"Prove that you are who you say!" Bill demands loudly, his wand still pointed at the closed door.
"Merlin, you're worse than Mum! Okay, let me think... Ask Harri to confirm that the first time I told her I loved her, she'd just shown her tits to our mother."
My face heats as everyone turns to look at me. "It's him." I grit.
I go to the door and wrench it open.
Fred, grinning from ear to ear with a cheeky twinkle in his eye, winks at me. "Well aren't you a sight for sore eyes."
And then he steps inside and wraps his arms around me, hugging me to him so tight I almost cannot breathe. But I do not care for I hold him just as tight, breathing in his scent and hardly daring to believe this is real and he is here.
"Shut the door, Fred," Bill orders, you're letting in the cold.
Without letting me go, Fred kicks it shut. He clasps each side of my head in and he kisses my lips, my nose, my eyes, my scar.
"I've missed you," I say, the words leaving my lips like a sigh.
"Good," Fred says, "I was hoping you'd say that because I've missed you more than you can imagine. And when I found out Dad was coming to collect Mr Ollivander and that you were here also - well, let's just say I wouldn't leave him alone until he agreed to let me go in his place."
"You will stay for dinner, ov course?" Fleur calls from across the kitchen where she has resumed the chopping of vegetables.
Fred grins, his eyes creasing at the corners as he drapes an arm around my shoulders and presses his lips down on my head. "You just try and keep me away. Anything to spend more time with this beautiful woman."
I smile up at him, my heart fluttering like crazy.
"How's the family keeping?" Bill asks, walking over to land a hand down on Fred's shoulder in greeting. "You and George keeping out of mischief?"
"Driving old Aunt Muriel up the wall as per usual," Fred chuckles, "but we're keeping in business - we're operating an Owl Order service out of her back room. Mum and Dad say hi, by the way."
"We heard you on the radio," I grin, "thank you for your message."
Fred squeezes me to him, dropping his voice an octave. "Just wish I could have said more, only Lee made me keep it family friendly."
He keeps me close to his side as we walk into the living room and greet the others. There is so much I want to say to him, so desperate to get him alone, that I'm glad when Fred suggests we go for a walk, just the two of us.
"There was another reason I wanted to come here and see you," Fred says as we walk hand in hand along the sand dunes out the back, not caring about the wind whipping around us.
"Oh?" I ask, stopping in my tracks to look up at him. "Do tell."
He delves a hand into his jacket pocket. "It's not how I wanted to do this," he says, rummaging around for something. "But Mum insisted I borrow it when I told her what you mean to me."
I swallow, looking down at the ring he has just retrieved from his pocket.
"Fred-"
He gets down on one knee, and I laugh, hardly believing he is doing this.
"Harriet Potter," he says, holding up the ring to me. "I know we're still young, and have our whole lives ahead of us. But will you do this sad git a favour and have a long fun life alongside of me as my wife?"
My heart is so full I feel it will burst. "Yes!" I cry, laugh and smile all at once. "Of course I bloody will! Now get up and kiss me."
He doesn't need asking twice, and he leaps up and wraps his arms around me, kissing me hard as he lifts me off my feet and twirls me around.
"Was that too cheesy?" He asks putting me down and grabbing my left hand to slide the ring on my finger. "Because I went over this moment a million times in my head and I couldn't find a way to make it not cheesy. Well, I could but I want you to have the best of everything and a non cheesy proposal seemed just insulting."
"It was perfect," I say, lifting my hand to admire the sapphire and diamond encrusted ring sparkling in the evening sunlight. "A little cheesy - yes, but perfect all the same."
He wraps me in a hug. I feel his heart racing beneath his chest. "It's my grandmother's engagement ring. Ginny is supposed to inherit it when she turns eighteen, but given the current circumstances, Mum said I could borrow it. And when this bloody war is over, and we no longer have to be in hiding, I'll buy you a proper one of your own."
I reach up on tip toes and lightly kiss the heart shaped freckle next to his left eye. "I love you, Fred. Thank you."
"You do know this means you're agreeing to be a Weasley?" Fred chuckles. "There's no escaping us now."
"Good," I say, leaning my head on his shoulder and sighing blissfully as we hold one another. I bury my face in his neck and inhale his gorgeous scent.
I want to do more than this. I want him, and to celebrate our engagement properly. But sadly, there is no opportunity to get any privacy around here.
"One day, we'll have all the time in the world." Fred murmurs against my ear. "And we'll get in lots of baby making practice before we do the real thing. Then we'll be too exhausted from changing dirty nappies twenty-four seven, and you'll kick me when I prod you with my morning woody and say 'not now hubby, I've got a headache'."
I lift my head, looking up at him mischievously. "I can't imagine I could ever say no to you. Not even if I had a thousand headaches rolled into one."
A crooked smile plays at his lips and he dips his head to brush his nose against mine. "I love you, Harriet soon to be Weasley."
Soon. My heart knots unpleasantly. Because would it be, though? Who knows how long the horror of this war will last. I would marry Fred right now if I can and hide away somewhere just the two of us.
But, as we look sadly into one another's eyes, we both know that we cannot do that. It's got to be me who kills Voldemort. Kill or be killed.
A happy engagement, marred by the terror awaiting us ahead.
*****