Title: Between The Shadow and The Soul
By: Gryffindor Girl
Rating: R
Genre: UST, Angst, Thriller, Action
Disclaimer: Harry Potter & its characters belong to JK Rowling, this is just a piece of fanfiction. Some characters and settings used are created by me. Tumblr fans might recognise a scene in this; I borrowed it because I love it.
Words: 6,564 of 45,000 total (approx)
For: Lady Bluestar and her request prompt: Duelling, serious or playful.
Warnings: Low grade violence, non explicit sex, swears, poss infidelity.
Chapter Seven
*
Corvus's booming voice rings out over the crowd.
"We have a new revelation! A surprise...twist, you might say." He smiles cruelly back at us and then sweeps his way back up on to his stage; up on to the crucis. Clearly enjoying the theatre, he explains the new development.
"Whilst they were going to fight tonight anyway, it seems that Mr Potter and Ms Granger can't seem to get enough of our ...hospitality." His black eyes shift across to me and I glare back up at him. "They volunteer to extend their contract with us in exchange for these two."
He gestures to the girls who swing wide eyes across to us; following Corvus's finger which is pointing in our direction. They whisper frantically to each other as the crowd around us murmurs with a mixture of delight and disappointment. Harry moves towards the crucis and I follow closely behind.
"No!"
The word comes from our left, a short sharp bark. I turn to see a bolt of red light slicing through the air towards us and I raise my wand arm without thinking, producing a shield charm that encompasses both Harry and myself.
The curse rebounds and it's then that I realise it wasn't meant for either of us - and that thankfully, Harry had seen it coming too and extended it to include the two girls standing shell-shocked in front of us. Harry's arm has gone out to move me behind him slightly; I step around him just a little to see who it was that attacked.
Rodolphus stands there, breathing angrily through his nostrils, glaring first at Harry and I and then Corvus, before his eyes rest almost hungrily on the girls.
"Corvus! These are not my opponents. I did not agree to fight these mudbloods."
I feel Harry's body tense and I put my hand on his bare arm, gripping him tightly. Corvus steps forward, his smile tight and his expression hard.
"Rodolphus. You don't wish to fight the couple responsible for your beautiful wife's demise? I thought surely..."
"My wife was killed by a pure blood witch, not by some muddied, inferior...teenagers." He spits his words out and then literally spits on the floor at our feet. "I would not honour them with my participation."
Corvus steps closely, his expression still calm but I see the tension under his cool veneer.
"Not even to avenge our Dark Lord? Rodolphus?"
I see the look in the dark wizard's eyes - contempt, hatred. His face, this close, shows clearly that he doesn't hold the memory of Voldemort at all precious. But his eyes dart around quickly and I realise, as I suspect he does, that this would be the wrong crowd to admit that to. He takes a step back, bowing his head and raising his wand to hold it horizontal in front of him.
"I step down. I will not fight tonight."
Corvus face freezes, his smile nearly completely gone now. I look back and forth between them and realise that whatever hold Corvus and this Dome have over us, it doesn't seem to have such power over Rodolphus Lestrange.
He turns, and with one last look of distaste thrown over his shoulder towards Harry and me, he walks off the crucis.
The crowd erupts in a chorus of loud boos and taunting but Rodolphus ignores it, walking purposefully through the crowd, away from us. I feel Harry's body tense even more, as if he's considering following. I grasp his arm tighter and glance over at Corvus who still looks a little stunned. Then he seems to gather himself, stretching what is left of his smile across his face.
"Pay him no mind. Rodolphus has never been the same after the tragedy of watching his wife die for her true love." The crowd sniggers cruelly and I watch Rodolphus's broad shoulders as he slows his walk. "And being unable to save her himself, well...it's heartbreaking." Corvus's voice is dripping in sarcasm but his eyes are fixed on Rodolphus's retreating back. The wizard stops for a moment and I wonder if he's about to turn back. But after a short pause, he continues to walk away without another glance in our direction.
Corvus grimaces slightly and then motions towards Bole, muttering an instruction. "Find a partner."
Bole nods, and then gestures into the crowd. Another wizard of similar height and build to him begins to travel through the audience towards us.
Harry makes a short humourless laugh. "Peregrine Derrick. The other Beater. Exactly the same as Bole."
I nod, removing my outer robe now. When I turn to place it somewhere off the crucis, I see Aberforth by the edge, near where we'd been standing in the crowd. He has Harry's jacket and holds his arm out for mine. I walk over.
"Both fast and agile despite their size but stupid, not a brain cell between them. Out think them, don't outrun them." He gestures me closer with a quick flick of his fingers and I lean in. "But they've worked as a team before, remember that too."
I nod to his instructions and move back to stand beside Harry, repeating them quietly in his ear. He nods once quickly to me and then to Aberforth and then turns to face them.
The two frightened girls are still grasping each other off to our side, glancing from Harry to me and back again, and I try and throw them a reassuring smile. Corvus reinstates the dome over our heads and sections them off against the wall; I try and put them from my mind and concentrate on the two solid men in front of us.
"Duellers, starting positions!"
The crowd begins to whip itself into a frenzy and it's only then that I realise I had nearly forgotten they were there. My focus is acute; all the training with Aberforth is coming to the forefront and as I stand there, next to Harry, I realise I know exactly what he's going to do to start - and he already knows my first move too. I raise my arms above my head and tilt my head to the side to stretch a little. Harry raises up on to the balls of his feet, and circles his arm quickly, stretching out his stiff shoulder I know. I glance at the welt still visible across his bicep and resolve not to let him get hurt at all this time.
"Duellers, bow."
We perform the traditional wand gesture and bow to our opponents. Bole sneers as he barely makes the movement; eyeing me like I'm a particularly delicious meal he's about to consume. I smile coldly at him, shaking my head.
"Begin!"
Immediately, Harry and I both produce our Patronus, sending them directly towards our opponents, swirling in a bright silvery mist around their heads. My otter winds nimbly around them; temporarily blinding them as Harry's stag circles them quickly and increases the effect. I quickly dig my fingers under my bra strap - to where I've hidden the small capsule. I throw it to the ground, releasing the Peruvian Instant Darkness Powder.
Harry and I both apparate straight up to the ceiling of the Dome and simultaneously fire our curses at them, completing our unorthodox move. My Confundo charm hits Derrick right in the centre of his skull but Bole is slightly quicker; he blocks us with a shielding spell that encompasses him like a bubble.
I hear Harry swear and then we're flying around the interior of the dome, me following an inch behind him. The crowd roar louder with cheers and some with boos but the noise is definitely more rowdy this time. The darkness in the centre of the ring starts to clear just as Harry turns and dodges a red curse from Bole. I counter with a strike of my own that just misses him.
Derrick turns to gaze through bleary eyes at us; fighting the haze my curse has put on him. He fires a blue shielding spell, but not quickly enough to deflect Harry's curse; I see him yelp and clutch his forearm as a bright red mark appears there. Bole has apparated upwards into black smoke and I chase him, noting that the column of white smoke that is Harry plummets to the ground to gain Bole's attention.
It works, and as soon as he materialises and aims for Harry, I hit him square on the back, sending him flying forwards. He falls to the ground, only just keeping his footing and stumbles towards Harry; Harry throws a fist and connects soundly with his jaw, sending him to the floor and earning a deafening cheer from the crowd. I glance over and even the two girls are smiling from their position at the edge of the dome as they watch.
I land next to Harry who throws me a quick grin before we both turn to stand back to back as Aberforth has drilled into us. Bole groans and turns over and I see his nose is bleeding. It gives me a thrill, knowing that Harry has spilt some blood and I barely recognise myself as I whip a stinging curse down on him, causing a couple of surface cuts that draw a little blood too. He clutches his arm and I feel a twinge of regret but I can see Aberforth gesturing to me and I know what I have to do.
"Now, Hermione."
I nod shortly, and raise my wand. I feel Harry move in the corner of my vision, and see Derrick flying across the crucis before he moves to follow him but it feels far away; my focus has narrowed to a point and I study my victim on the floor, almost marvelling at my own detachment. I think of Fred suddenly; his warm easy grin. Bole rolls over and leers at me, sluggishly raising his wand.
"Expulso."
I don't make it strong but it snaps his head back violently. There's no satisfaction, there's no regret. There's nothing - I'm simply numb. He's instantly knocked out cold and I let my wand arm fall to my side. I stare down at the mass of Bole's frame, emotionless.
Suddenly, a huge shape comes flying at me, colliding painfully with my arm. I cry out, feeling the bone snap as the force of the object connects. Waves of pain wash over me and I fight to keep my vision clear; swimming stars threaten to turn to blackness.
I hear a growl that sounds like Harry and then Derrick is lying at my feet, also unconscious. Harry appears beside me, his wand raised and pointing down. He aims a non verbal curse at Derrick's form but when I see Derrick's body twist and writhe on the crucis floor, I know which curse it is. Harry's face is livid, intent on the pain he's causing.
"Stop."
The word falls out of my pain slackened lips. Harry doesn't notice and so I speak louder.
"Stop...Harry...that's enough."
I stumble forward and catch his arm; he finally breaks off and stares at me unseeing for a moment before he refocuses.
"Hermione...are you alright? I'm so sorry..."
I shake my head, clutching my elbow. "I'm fine. I'm okay."
He grasps my shoulders, staring down at my arm and then at my face.
"I'm so sorry...I'd thought he was down and then he just came barrelling for you..."
"Harry, stop, really...I'm fine."
He looks at me, anguished and so I try and smile reassuringly. He gathers me gently in to him, wrapping his arms delicately around my shoulders. I press my face into his neck and he kisses my hair.
"Touching." Corvus's voice bounces off the ceiling and I realise then that the Dome has dissolved. His long hair ripples as he walks towards us, his face set in distaste. He throws a scornful look at the bodies at our feet and kicks out viciously at one of them. "But ultimately...disappointing."
Harry turns and frowns at him, his jaw set. I grasp his arm with my good hand. Corvus smiles his humourless smile.
"You too need to learn to draw it out. Why not take your time? Put on a show!" He gestures grandly with his hand to the crowd that I've forgotten all about again, who seem subdued, most of them going about the business of exchanging money with grimy hands. Corvus looks back at us.
"Won't you stay? Go another round?"
Harry looks like he's a second away from hexing Corvus into oblivion. But he holds still, clenching his jaw and fist.
"No. We're done here."
He dismisses a disappointed looking Corvus and walks me carefully to the edge of the crucis, towards Aberforth who is currently helping the two girls down off the platform. Each step sends a jolt of pain through me but I grind my teeth together, determined not to let it show.
When we make it to Aberforth, I see the girls are looking paler with every passing minute and I push Harry gently away.
"Look after them. I'm fine."
He watches me uncertainly for a moment and so I perform an immobilizing charm on myself, strapping my arm against my chest with a glowing blue rope. He nods and then turns to one of the girls, throwing her arm around his neck. The other leans on Aberforth and the five of us make our way through the path made by the sneering crowd, out towards the front door.
We're almost there when I catch sight of Lucius again, glowering at me from the shadows. I stare back, feeling nothing but pity. My eyes reflect something he wasn't expecting I'm sure because he looks taken aback suddenly. Then he disappears into the dark crowd.
*
When we finally arrive back at Grimmauld, I'm exhausted to the point of wanting to collapse on the spot.
It was nearly light, we'd spent the whole rest of the night getting the girls back to a room at the Hog's Head and nursing them as they descended into the same fever I'd had when I'd first been struck by the curse. Lenore and Navine were sisters, lured there by someone offering hope to find their parents who hadn't been seen since the beginning of the Second War against Voldemort. My heart had gone out to these two girls, searching for their family and only finding the worse kind of trouble.
I'd wanted to stay with them but Harry had insisted I come back and rest, and get under the Sanatur blanket. Aberforth had set and healed my broken arm but it was still very tender, and very obviously still healing. So I'd let him lead me away, with reassurances from Aberforth that the girls would be fine and he would make sure of their care.
And now that we're back in his room, in the familiar darkness of this space, the fatigue finally hits.
I sit heavily down on the floor where I am, not caring about the hard floorboards in the slightest. Harry falls just as solidly into the chair beside me. I wonder if we're going to talk about the girls or maybe about the duel but it's just quiet between us. I have just enough time to find the silence uncomfortable when he speaks.
"So." He makes a motion with his hand, gesturing back and forth between us. My heart leaps, even in my tiredness and I remember everything suddenly - memories of the other night in this very room come storming into my head in sharp focus. "This is awkward, huh."
I don't know whether to smile or cry at that and so I just sigh and push my fingers through my hair, letting it fall in a curtain hiding my face.
"Yeah. I guess so."
He blows out an audible breath; stretches his denim clad legs out long. I lean on my knees and wait.
"Wow. That sucks."
I do smile this time, and shrug.
"Yeah, it does."
He pauses, sitting motionless in the chair beside me.
"You think there's anything we can do about it?"
My lips fall open slightly, and I know this is the moment. I know that I can lie and hedge and keep saving face. Or I can be honest and let the chips fall where they may. Neither option sounds appealing, because both seem to mean things between Harry and I will change irreversibly but it's becoming clearer to me that, whether I like it or not, that's already happened.
I turn to look up at him in the chair. He's watching me; his fingers gripping the arm rest that's level with my face. His eyes are dark and his expression hooded but he doesn't stop studying me intently.
"Yeah." I nod and bite my lip, glancing down at his wrist and then back up at his face.
"You could just kiss me and get it over with."
He stares at me in something like shock for a second; his expression caught somewhere between surprise and amusement. My heart pounds wildly in my chest, echoing through my body; setting it humming with nerves.
Then he leans forward and I know then, from his expression. There's no hesitation, no internal struggle in his eyes. He grabs for my upper arms and I rise to meet him, allowing him to drag me easily into his lap. My lips find his instantly; I grasp handfuls of his hair with my good hand and he presses me against him and I realise truly then how much I've been craving to feel this again - ever since that night.
He seems to mirror my urgency; while being careful of my arm, I realise. He only tolerates the confines of the chair for another minute though before he lifts me effortlessly up against him and walks us to the bed. I don't let him lose contact with my lips, not even when he walks us up the small stairs to the mezzanine level but he navigates it well, not stumbling once, holding me safely against him.
I clutch his shirt tightly with my good arm. He lays me down on the bed, taking my weight so I don't have to. Truthfully, it's hurting badly, but it's a distant inconvenience - I barely register it. He kneels up and takes his shirt off in one swoop; I kinda can't help but stare. I reach up and run the palm of my good hand over the ridges of his lean stomach. He looks down at me, a smile tugging at his lips. I run my hand down further until I curl my fingers into the waistband of his jeans and yank him gently down towards me.
He leans down over me, careful to hold his weight on his own arms and I slide my hand around the back of his neck, pulling his lips to mine again.
And this time it's slower; still with that obvious need but it's different, maybe because I'm injured and he has a few cuts and bruises that draw a couple of sharp breaths from him at times also. We touch each other's damaged, bruised bodies with hands as gentle as we can make them, with lips soft on skin that's scratched and battle weary.
This time it's so much slower, almost painfully intimate. I catch his eyes at times and I want to hold his gaze, I do. Instead I bury my face against his shoulder or close my eyes because I'm petrified of the feeling bubbling up within me, threatening to overflow.
When we're finished, he pulls me into his shoulder and holds my head, kissing my temple and moving his lips in my hair. I grasp him as tightly as my arm will allow, fitting my whole body into his like I know it as well as my own because right now it feels like I do.
"I'll be right back."
He rolls away from me and I miss the warmth of him for a moment when he leaves but he's back quickly. I mould willingly back into his side but I notice he's taking the blanket down from my shoulder. I glance up at him and he's concentrating on something. I feel an unusual warmth spread through me and then I realise that he has the Santaur blanket, and is stretching its golden fabric to cover the both of us - which it does, easily.
I curl into him, feeling the warmth of the healing settle over us as his fingers stroke the middle of my back. After a while, he gently reaches for the hand of my sore arm and lifts it, moving his head to look down at the welts on my forearm.
"Better?"
I nod; it does feel considerably less painful already.
"Thanks."
He gently rubs my fingers, still looking at my hand. It feels like he's going to say something significant and suddenly, whatever it is, I don't know if I can bear to hear it. I speak first so that he can't.
"Those girls were lucky you were there tonight. You saved their lives."
He rolls on to his back a bit more, pulling me with him with one hand and grabbing a handful of his messed hair in the other. He shakes his head.
"Couldn't have done it without you."
I don't reply to that, I just twine my fingers with his.
He looks down at me but I stare steadfastly at his collarbone until he pulls my chin up gently with his fingertips. I meet his eyes and he frowns at me, looking for something it seems. I don't know if he finds it but then he kisses me again and I forget about everything else anyway.
*
In the morning, I wake and I'm still wrapped tightly in his warmth.
I don't even contemplate leaving this time.
I can't justify what I'm doing, I know that. Stubbornly, or maybe even childishly, I just want to ignore everything that's wrong with this. I want to pull the covers over my head and disappear here with him, and pretend that the rest of the world doesn't exist. Nothing else exists except for us, here in his bed and wrapped in blankets.
I watch him while he sleeps and wonder if things could possibly still be awkward between us when he wakes up.
But when he does, it seems like he has the same idea as me because once he looks around in his sleep haze and sees me; he grabs me in close and pulls the covers over our heads. I laugh and he does too and I think, for just a second, maybe the rest of the world really doesn't exist anymore.
*
I'm embarrassed when Kreacher brings us breakfast in bed.
It's silly because he just goes about his work with no change in expression but I grasp the sheets protectively to my chest as Harry sits up in bed to put the tray on his lap. Once the little house elf is gone, I peer at the tray, realising how hungry I am. Harry is already tucking in. He gestures at me, seeing if I want some. I'm too famished to be shy and so I sit up and eat too.
It's strangely normal. After we eat, we get up and shower together, barely speaking, just handing each other soap and towels like it's something that we've always done. There's some sheepish grinning and a little nervousness but mainly I feel surprisingly comfortable just being alone like this with him.
Then we lie back into the bed, curving into each other again by some silent agreement. It's so warm and right and I don't find it at all difficult to forget all the things wrong with it. As if for one suspended moment, we're stuck in some alternate reality that subsists only in this room. Only the light falling on us from the skylight turning the sheets a blinding white is a witness to this and so maybe it's not really happening. I guess, with all the strangeness in my life, it's no surprise I can come up with such a theory.
I'm not sure what he's telling himself about it all. He seems relaxed, almost happy at times. His body language is calm, even after everything that's happened over the last week. I begin to think he might be practicing the same art of denial as me.
But then, when it starts to rain late in the afternoon and we tangle further into the blankets and each other, I feel his mood change. I rest my head against his chest and listen to the steady drumming of his heart and wait for him to speak.
"I really dropped us in it last night."
"What do you mean?"
He runs his thumb absently in circles on my shoulder.
"Making this worse. We're never going to get away from the Den. We're stuck fighting there until we ...get unlucky."
I push up on my elbows and frown at him.
"Don't say that, Harry. We'll find a way out of it...I know we will. We'll get the whole thing exposed and shut down - as soon as we can figure out how."
He puts one arm up under his head and then tucks some hair behind my ear with the other, smiling slightly.
"Yeah. I know you will."
I shake my head, impassioned. "WE will."
His face turns suddenly serious and he looks down at my lips, his thumb moving to trace them now. His eyes find mine again.
"We."
I swallow nervously, not sure what to say now. All the confidence I'd just felt rushes away from me and I want to hide away again, suddenly unsure of what we're doing and if we're ever going to really talk about it. I can't bear the silence anymore or the questions within it so I lean forward and catch his lips with mine. He responds quickly, grasping the back of my head and pulling me closer.
*
"Master."
Kreacher gives me the fright of my life when he appears at the bedside again.
"I told you no messages please, Kreacher."
That surprises me. Maybe he did that when I was sleeping.
"I'm sorry, Master, it's Mr Aberforth sir. He says it's urgent."
Harry nods and sits up.
"It's okay. Tell him I'll be right there."
I watch him sit on the edge of the bed and tug on some jeans.
"Shall I come? I should come."
He shakes his head as he pulls on his boots.
"No stay here. You still need some rest for that arm."
I sit there frozen for a moment; feeling rattled now that the bubble we've existed in for the last day is threatening to burst. It throws everything into sharp relief suddenly, and I feel abruptly nauseous. When I look back at him he's standing now, and shrugging into a jacket. He looks at me and I stare back, drinking in the sight of him because it feels strangely like he's leaving for a long time.
"We should talk. When I get back." He gestures at the bed; at the sheets that I'm still twisted in and then pushes one hand through his hair and shoves the other in his jeans pocket. "About everything."
I feel my heart sink for some reason but I nod, looking away.
He bends to me, kissing me on the temple and then my lips; his hand grasping my neck. He presses his forehead briefly to mine and then he's gone.
*
I last about ten minutes by myself alone in the bed before I admit I'm too agitated to just lie here anymore. Besides, it's a very different bed without him in it.
I've been mulling everything over anyway, and I know what I have to do. I have another shower and get dressed quickly, feeling myself fill with an acute sense of purpose at every passing minute.
I throw one final look around the room and at the now neatly made bed before apparating to Ron's.
*
"What the hell are you telling me?"
Ron breathes heavily through his nostrils, his anger just barely in check. I recognise it well, and I realise then that I've been catering to it - doing everything I can not to upset him, even at the expense of my true feelings. Now, through everything I've been through lately, his anger seems like a trivial thing to be scared of.
"I'm telling you what I should have told you a long time ago, Ron. We're not right for each other. We're friends, nothing more than that. I know that for sure now."
His eyebrows raise and I realise I've revealed too much.
"You've found someone else."
I look down at the ground, unwilling to reveal anything but just as unwilling to deny it and lie. He laughs humourlessly.
"That's it, isn't it. It's someone else."
I shrug at him, feeling the guilt at hurting him slice through me.
"What difference does it make, Ron? You and I...we weren't ever going to work out."
He nods, still appearing dazed. Finally, he looks up at me, speaking quietly.
"You're not the only one you know. It wasn't my fault we could never...I haven't had complaints from anyone else."
I stare at him, registering what his comment means; seeing the defiance in his eyes. I feel my guilt melt a little, just watching the stubborn jut of his chin.
"Right. Nice, Ron. Real nice."
He looks a bit stricken; torn between apologising and holding his ground. I make it easier for him.
"Well, at least now we both know where we stand."
He nods, a myriad of emotions playing out across his familiar face. I take a few steps back towards the door.
"I'll see you."
I turn and apparate, leaving him standing there, fixed to the spot.
*
The lights of the Hogs Head are low and uninviting; it looks barely open. It's confirmed when I enter and see Aberforth isn't behind the bar; it's the other guy who seems to do odd jobs around the place and who I've always suspected is part troll. He gazes uncomprehending at me when I ask after Aberforth so I just walk straight past him and through the door leading to the rooms.
I find my way easily to the room where the two girls are; realising then how familiar the halls of the Hog's Head have become to me now. The wind whistles ominously around the crooked building as I walk, but I find the now recognizable scent of the damp halls somehow comforting - reminding me of our training sessions and the enjoyment I'll admit I get from them now.
The door to the girls room is open just a crack; I knock gently and enter.
Lenore is sitting up and smiles at me; Navine is still lying down under the covers but manages to wave a weak hand in my direction. I'm surprised to see that Madam Rosmerta is perching her ample bottom on the edge of Navine's bed. She turns and smiles warmly at me.
"Come in, love. The girls have been asking after you."
I smile and greet them all warmly, sitting myself opposite to Rosmerta on Lenore's bed. I look at both girls, happy to see that at least Lenore is eating some soup from her lap.
"How are you feeling?"
Lenore nods between mouthfuls.
"Good. Much better. Thank you for everything you and Harry did for us."
I shake my head. "Don't mention it. I'm just glad you're okay."
Madam Rosmerta leans forward, reaching for the other bowl of soup on the table and coaxes Navine to sit up which the girl does slowly and reluctantly. Rosmerta waits patiently, smiling warmly at me.
"Now don't be too modest; you two did well." She nods, watching me closely. "Aberforth tells me everything. I think you two ought to be very proud. And I told Harry that too."
I watch her as she hands the soup to Navine who's now sitting gingerly upright.
"Harry's been here then?"
His name sounds strange falling from my lips suddenly and I think I see a knowing smile from Rosmerta but it's gone so quickly I'm not sure. She nods.
"Yes, he came and saw the girls earlier and then went somewhere with Aberforth. I agreed to keep an eye on these two."
Navine nods enthusiastically, the first sign of animation I've seen from her.
"Yes, he came to see us. And we told him how grateful we are...to both of you of course."
I note the red flush in her cheeks and her glance at her sister who's wearing an identical flush. I try and suppress a smile at their obvious adoration of their rescuer.
"You don't need to be grateful. We're just happy you're alright."
Navine watches me, her eyes alight with curiosity. I spy her wrist, and elect to change the subject.
"You have the tattoo."
She glances down and then smiles, rubbing it gently.
I frown. "But I thought they were released from the curse?"
Rosmerta nods and leans forward to look at Navine's wrist. "Aberforth thinks because they stepped into the ring that they'll still feel some illness and still have the marks but they should fade within the week."
I nod as Navine holds hers out to me, running her fingers over it and shrugs.
"I kinda like it."
I smile and lean forward to study it a little closer. She looks over at her sister and smiles warmly, sharing a look that shows their closeness.
"We both love them actually."
She holds it out for me to see it better. Hers has the same thorny design as mine, nearly identical, except for in the centre. Where mine clearly displays the letter H, hers is an unmistakeable 'L'. I reach out and run my finger lightly over it.
"Navine, right?"
She nods and gestures to her sister. "And Lenore."
I frown in confusion. "But you have the 'L' on yours."
Lenore nods, casting a quick glance back at her sister and then to me. She lifts up her wrist and shows me her own tattoo.
"And I have the 'N' on mine."
I shake my head slightly, feeling disoriented for a moment.
"But, shouldn't it be the other way around? You have the letter of your own name?"
Lenore shakes her head back, leaning forward to let me study hers further.
"No, Aberforth explained it to us. The initial that appears is the first letter of the person dearest to you. The one who's also part of your curse." She smiles sadly across at her sister and they reach over the short space between the two single beds to clasp hands. "So I'm bound to her, and she's bound to me."
I sit back, my ears ringing loudly.
The person dearest to you.
"Where's Harry."
I don't realise I've spoken aloud until the girls exchange a look and Madam Rosmerta throws me another shrewd smile.
"I'm not sure, love. He went with Aberforth but I don't know where. Said they wouldn't be long...though it has actually been a while hasn't it? I think they were meeting someone."
The girls nod and I stand abruptly. All three faces glance at me in surprise and I force a calm smile.
"Well, I'm so glad you're feeling better. I'll pop back shortly I..." I back towards the door, shoving my hands in the back pocket of my jeans. "I'll just go and see if I can find them."
Madam Rosmerta smiles kindly.
"You do that, love."
*
The training room in the cellar is stone quiet.
I cast the illumination spell for the lights and they crank into life; but the room is clearly deserted, with no evidence that anyone has been there recently. A heavy sense of foreboding starts to prickle its way up my neck.
But I turn and mount the steps, dismissing it. Truth be told, I can't trust anything I'm feeling at the moment. Since seeing the girls and their tattoos in the rooms upstairs, I've been a strange sort of numb.
And suddenly, as I climb, I realise I've kept everything on the surface, not allowing how I feel about him to really permeate my denial. Keeping him at arms length and pretending that it's all physical and that I'm okay with that. Not wanting to admit how I think about him and how I've wanted to tell him but being too petrified of the silence that might follow if I did.
Now, as I arrive back at the statue of the goat, the urgency rushes over me in a wave. He might not feel exactly the same as I do but I have no doubt now that I'm the one on his wrist and he's the one on mine. And whatever that means, all I know now is that I have to see him.
I search the hallways and rooms a bit longer until I find myself standing outside the Hog's Head, frustrated. The night is cold and my breath forms white clouds in front of my face as I look around, trying to think of where they might be. I close my eyes; thinking about what Rosmerta said.
I think they were meeting someone.
Footsteps. I can hear footsteps approaching; crushing the tightly packed snow. I turn, instinctively pulling out my wand as a shadowy form draws closer.
I watch as it seems to weave unsteadily, nearly stumbling as it approaches.
"Who's there?"
My voice sounds strangely loud and I light my wand.
The figure draws closer and with one more step, the face is visible by my wand light. I let out a strangled yelp.
"Aberforth!"
His face is bloodied and beaten, I see that immediately. I lurch forward to take his arm and he leans into me heavily.
"Couldn't help...Harry. They got Harry."
My heart turns to ice. I pull back to look into his face, trying to hold his gaze but his eyes are strangely unfocused.
"Who? Aberforth, who's got Harry?"
"Confused...Imperius. Taken."
"What?" I can barely make out the words falling from his slack lips. I glance around quickly and then back at him, sure that he's in no state to apparate. I see then that he's clutching his hand; one of his fingers is bleeding heavily.
"Hurry. Go."
Fear lurches through me again and I fight to think straight. I quickly perform a charm to stop the bleeding and then tuck under his shoulder, supporting him up the path to the front door.
"Help us!" I shout at the bartender who stares at me numbly, but thankfully, somehow, Rosmerta rushes out from somewhere. She catches sight of Aberforth's face, and dashes forward to support his other side.
"What in Merlin's..."
"Something's happened to Harry. I think Aberforth has been put under Imperius but he's resisting." Rosmerta nods sharply, taking Aberforth's arm right around her neck to support more of his weight. I position myself right in front of his face and force him to look at me. He peers at me through squinted eyes; one is already surrounded by an impressive bruise.
"Where. Where is Harry?"
He frowns under the strain of concentration but I see some steeliness back in the blue of his eyes.
"Den."
I close my eyes briefly, praying I'm not late. "Who has him?"
The old man screws his face up in effort, the effects of the curse still making his brain addled. He shakes his head, unable to form any more words.
I squeeze his shoulder and glance up at Rosmerta. She nods at me.
"I'll look after him. You go. And for Merlin's sake... be careful."
I close my eyes and apparate.
*