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The Heart Is A Hunter by Gaya Hriive
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The Heart Is A Hunter

Gaya Hriive

One Bird Said…

It seemed as though the thick rain had been falling for an eternity. The Hogwarts express had left Hogsmeade Station hours ago and it seemed a lifetime to Harry. As he sat silently in the train compartment the events of the last three days kept replaying through his head. If he dared close his eyes he was visited with the images that haunted his mind both day and night; Snape killing Dumbledore, the exact angle in which the aged professor's body was arched as he rose and then plummeted down to earth from the Astronomy Tower. Then flashed the next series: he and Hagrid approaching the growing crowd around the body, Hagrid's strangled cry, and that tiny trickle of blood that Harry himself had wiped away.

If he tried to stay awake or even keep his weary eyes open, they stung fiercely with tears that somehow seemed to be attached to his heart. Every time he felt that sudden pang of grief, or sadness, or anger, he would brush at his face, preventing any tears that may come from falling.

Hermione and Ron sat across from him, much closer than was usual, their hands lightly lying atop one another's. Hermione brushed a silent tear from her own face and cleared her throat gently.

"Harry, do you think that the Dursley's will let us all stay a night or two before we set off? I mean, they're horrible people aren't they? Won't they turn us out?"

Harry sat silently for a moment, pushing all other thoughts into the back of his mind.

"Well, they don't have a choice do they? We'll stay tonight, possibly tomorrow if we need to, and they can't say a damn word. Honestly, the Dursley's are the least of my concerns right now. If they choose not to cooperate then I won't have any choice but to use force."

Ron moved slightly closer to Hermione and nodded his head in agreement.

"I know you said we're going to Godric's Hollow mate, but what exactly are we looking for there? I mean, do you even know how to get there or where your parents' house was?"

Harry sighed and let his head sag a little.

"As for how to get there, yea Hagrid told me. But what I'm looking for isn't such an easy question to answer. I guess I just want to see my house, where I lived with my parents…where their lives were taken. I'm kind of hoping that maybe there will be some kind of clue as to what I'm supposed to do. I really haven't got any idea how to go about all this."

The tears Harry had been fighting suddenly came and he let them fall. Hermione and Ron moved to either side of him and enveloped him in a tight embrace. They let him cry, for his parents, for Sirius, for Dumbledore. They let their own tears fall as the grief of Dumbledore's death settled into them and for the heartache they felt for their best friend. He had seen so much death, so much pain but there he was, strong and ready to continue on, even at risk to his own life.

The three sat together, united, a symbol of what Voldemort was facing and the strength and courage that comes from the young and loyal, an almost menacing sight to those who stood to oppose them.

Harry stood suddenly and moved to face the compartment window. He watched the countryside rush by in a blur.

That's like my life, he thought. Always shifting and changing, never clear, never simple. He turned again to face Ron and Hermione and got a sick feeling in the pit of his gut. Ron was sitting upright, head resting back against the train seat while Hermione rested her head on his chest. Ron's arm rested casually across her shoulders as he gently stroked her hair.

As Harry watched them together, he felt a strong urge to punch Ron in the face. He wanted to hurt him, to disfigure him, to damage him in any and all ways possible. He didn't care that Ron was his best friend; all he knew was that he could hardly stand the sight of him anymore. Come to think of it, Harry could not figure out why he was even allowing Ron to accompany he and Hermione on their quest. Unable to stop himself, Harry moved to stand in front of Ron, an angry, yet steady, gaze on his handsome face.

"Do you think you two can take this somewhere else? The last thing I need right now is watching you pair cuddle and snog the whole time you're together. We have an important mission and it's not going to be accomplished if you two can't get a grip."

His voice was calm, but there was an undeniable cruelty hidden beneath.

Hermione bolted upright and Ron took on an air of the offended. He and Harry gazed heatedly at one another, fists clenched, teeth grinding. Hermione stood up briskly and slapped Harry across the cheek.

"Harry Potter, if you have something to say, you could be a little nicer about it. I know that you are scared and sad but there's no need to take it out on us. We are here to help you, protect you and be as much help as we can."

"No Hermione, you have NO idea how I feel. You have no idea what it is like to face what I am facing and what's worse, to be alone in it! You may argue that you and Ron are here to help me, but in the end, I-am-alone. You two won't fight Voldemort, or whoever else happens to try and attack. You don't know the fear I know. You don't know the grief I know. So miss know-it-all Hermione Granger, for the first time in your perfect life you are WRONG."

Harry ignored the tears that were pouring down Hermione's face and he turned once more to look from the cabin's window. The train slowed and then stopped completely. Without turning around to look at his friends, Harry gathered his belongings and started to the compartment door.

"We're here."

He walked from the compartment, leaving a baffled and angry Ron and a bawling Hermione.


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