Chapter Forty-Two:
( godric's hallow )

▂✫⌒*･ﾟ

SILENCE HAS ALWAYS BEEN Spencer's greatest enemy. Most of the time her mind takes her into a room of darkness where it feels like someone is suffocating her. She always tries to reassure herself that focusing on the memories that brought her happiness will help like how Daniel once advised her. However, it does nothing except make her crave to be that way once more. She keeps herself busy by reading books at any chance given, rereading, reciting, all of that involvement just so she can keep herself up at night and not wonder if Ricky and Ron are dead or having been caught by Death Eaters. Her mind completely dangerous to herself that it sometimes wants to make Spencer just bash her head onto the floor and hope the voices dial down.

             Fortunately, Harry takes notice of how she feels and does his best to be around her knowing it makes her slightly better. Since Ricky would always sleep right next to her, Spencer in the first week did not do so well. She lost five days of sleep by forcing herself awake majority of the time and only taking a nap for one hour while the rest she wasted it by thinking or reading. Sometimes, her vision starts to get a bit hazy making her realize that the start of insomnia and the way she tortures herself is doing more damage to her eyes.

Harry was the first to notice that when he woke up in the middle of the night only to find a small light emitting from her wand and the girl forcing her eyes wide open. Since then, he has been sleeping beside her hoping it can start regaining her loss of sleep.

No one has been alright ever since Ron and Ricky left. Hermione cries herself to sleep and wakes up being completely mute unless it is to give orders or ask for something. Spencer always realized that the two do them liked each other... she never noticed it was this much. When Harry was not with them, it was always Hermione and Ron. Now, they are all apart. Hermione has been far too broken to function properly. Harry is not any better. He makes himself seem as if he does not care about what happened, but he truly does. Ron is his best friend, his brother. The one that back in the Triward Tournament it was Ron who turned out to be the one person Harry would not want to live without.

Spencer is sitting by herself with a muggle pencil on her hand and pieces of parchment all around her. She has the watch Dumbledore gave her beside, fully open to take notion of the pattern that gives her the numbers that have now decrease from what it had originally been. The young girl still does not understand what the numbers are meant to be for, but she sees nothing good from it. There is not much she can do right now either way. More than four different thoughts are crossing on her head that cannot let her focus because when she does it is only for about ten seconds before it leads her to a new one that makes her head ache.

"What are you— uh— doing?" Harry questions in a low whisper, leaning down to be beside her amidst the papers. His eyes are curiously analyzing down the words and symbols she has written down. Some of them having to do with the Horcruxes and the Sword of Gryffindor along short explanations of the nightmares that keep her up at night.

She gives him a small smile knowing that despite everything she is feeling, it is not Harry's fault nor Ron's or anyone of them. Spencer hates the way she feels both physically and emotionally but even in her worse moments her brain is rational enough to know not to blame those that do not deserve it. Perhaps that is also why instead of the same anger Ron exploded on, she chose to take it out on herself.

"I can't seem to gather my thoughts straight so I thought if I wrote them out, my mind can... take a small break," Spencer sighs, letting herself take a rest.

Harry glances at her in concern, his eyes wandering toward her eye bags and how her smile no longer holds the same amount of kindness it once did. When he grabs one of the papers, he stares at it with a blank look while recognizing a beautiful drawn sketch of Spencer herself. He does not think about where she must have gotten it and instead smiles weakly.

"Do you think about him?"

Spencer glances down at what he is looking at and knows immediately who he is referring to. She has mostly only touched her necklace in the middle of the night when she knows Blaise would definitely have to be sleeping (or she assumes). She does not want him to feel how empty or broken she feels inside. However, just because he does not sense her... it does not mean she does not sense him because she does. Every single day. The same hour, same time. In the morning when the first light is out. In the night when they turn off. Blaise is warm and worried, but it gives her a small comfort that he is not harmed. And that he has not forgotten about her.

"Everyday," she whispers. And it is not just him she thinks about. Spencer is always wondering about her own brother, about the Weasleys, about her friends at Hogwarts, about Theodore and if he dealing alright with Blaise's mother, and about Ricky and Ron.

"I think about Ginny too," Harry reveals, staring away from her view and onto the cold breathy air that shows them how much time has passed without telling them an actual day. "Sometimes I just wish that I can walk out of this tent without any of you and just... turn myself in."

Spencer snaps her head toward him in worry. Not in fear of him doing that, but because of how he feels. She does not say anything more and instead lets him continue, "I want everyone to be safe from harm and I'm so lost on what to do because Ron was right! Dumbledore never explained to me anything in full sentences and instead always left me to guess on what he wants me to do. All this Horcruxes thing is a complete joke like if we're playing some Hide-and-Seek or a never ending game of Jumanji..."

"I hate how much we have changed," Harry hiccups, bringing in his knees closer and hugging himself. "Look at us, Spence... we're completely disgusting... our appearance barely looks pale and we're practically starving. We're much closer to whatever number is written on that damn watch than to finding the Horcruxes and stopping this whole war."

Spencer lets her gaze fall to the ground. "We can't lose hope," she murmurs. Though, she is not sure if those words are meant for him or for her. Perhaps both.

Harry seems to wonder the same thing as he lets out in a quiet tone, "I think we have already."

She does not disagree with him despite truly wanting to.

.･:*:･ﾟ'✫,'✫'ﾟ･:*:･˙

NOTHING CHANGES ANY FURTHER than them continuously changing places, Phineaus Nigellus becoming some sort of companion to talk to about what is occurring at Hogwarts, and the weather increasingly becoming colder by the day. Oh! There is also the fact that Spencer had Harry cut her hair shoulder length. It did not go completely wrong, but not completely well either. She wished she would have asked Hermione, but her friend was still far distraught to function properly since everything seemed to remind her of Ron.

Speaking of the cold air, Spencer knows that by now it is December. There has been times were they have spotted Christmas trees twinkling from several sitting room windows. Can you believe it? It is almost Christmas... Spencer does not know how to feel about it. Just like her birthday, she never truly experienced a good Christmas until that time at the Weasleys. It has been almost a year since then... a year since she kissed Blaise and—

"Spencer, Hermione?"

The young Montague glances up from eating her spaghetti which Hermione stole from the supermarket. She never realize how much she misses eating actual saucy food until the first bite. Although she truly does want to stomach it all in one mouthful, she knows it will only make her want to throw up because of how little she has eaten before. So, she eats slow and carefully making sure to note if her appetite is suddenly lost. Truth be told, she is thankful that Harry told the two girls that for now the Horcrux will be on his bunk bed rather than any of them. Though, how the Gryffindors manage to eat faster than her still surprises her. Hermione is currently curled up in one of the sagging armchairs rereading The Tales of Beedle the Bard.

"Hmm?" She hums barely giving him any attention. Harry clears his throat almost nervously making Spencer turn to him curiously.

"Hermione, I've been thinking, and—" Harry starts to speak before Hermione gasps and motions for Spencer and the boy himself to head her way. Spencer pushes back her almost empty plate and stands up to sit beside Hermione. She glances down at the book she is reading and stares at what Hermione clearly deems important. "Look at that symbol," Hermione gushes, pointing to the top of a page.

Spencer lets her eyes examine the symbols which she would not have known if she had not read the book of Ancient Runes (of course she never took the class). Either way, she can read the words clearly because of how fast her mind connects the symbols to its corresponding letter. Though, that is not what Hermione is pointing out. There is another symbol on top of the title that appears like a triangular eye with its pupil crosses with a vertical line.

A name quickly pops up in her head in disbelief. Grindelwald... the evil man long before (actually it was around the 1920s) Voldemort decided to take a page out of his books. How can Spencer not know about Grindelwald? Hint: she does. Not all the Montagues are not necessarily involved with the Dark Arts. At least Graham's family are not technically. However, Spencer's own has been. Mostly because of her deranged aunt and awful mother, but even so she grew up hearing Grindelwald's story.

"I never took Ancient Runes, Hermione," Harry points out in confusion. Spencer gently rolls her eyes and before she can say anything, Hermione continues, "I know that, but it isn't a rune and it's not in the syllabary, either. All along I thought it was a picture of an eye, but I don't think it is! It's been inked in, look, somebody's drawn it there, it isn't really part of the book. Think, have you ever seen it before?"

Spencer nods and points at it. "Many of the pure-blooded family knows it because of Grindelwald," she explains after their surprised look. Hermione appears taken back while Harry opens his mouth in realization. "It is not his official mark, let me put it out there, but ever since what happened at Durmstrang the news escalated toward my family's gossiping ears."

"Right, Krum told me about it," Harry slowly nods in understanding. Hermione gapes at them completely lost and so, Harry recounts the story that Viktor Krum told him back at the wedding (Spencer has come to realized it happened months ago).

Hermione looks from Harry to the weird symbol to Spencer and back again. "I've never heard that Grindelwald had a mark. There's no mention of it in anything I've ever read about him."

Spencer trails her finger through the mark. "As I said, it is not his official mark and I think there is a deeper meaning behind it... I swear it feels like I should know this and yet I haven't seen the symbol before. Something tells me it's familiar, however," she remarks thoughtfully, not bothering to try and look for it on her mind. She is sure she has never seen the mark before, but there is something that is bothering her. It is like even without ever seeing it she has to know that it is something she has read about.

"Well, Krum reckoned that symbol was carved on a wall at Durmstrang, and Grindelwald put it there," Harry offers with a shrug. Hermione falls back into the old armchair, frowning. "That's very odd. If it's a symbol of Dark Magic, what's it doing in a book of children's stories?"

"Yeah, it is weird," Harry agrees. "And you'd think Scrimgeour would have recognized it. He was Minister, he ought to have been expert on Dark stuff."

"I know... Perhaps he thought it was an eye, just like I did. All the other stories have little pictures over the titles," Hermione sighs. She does not speak, but continues to pore over the strange mark. Harry tries again to do whatever he had been planning to before Hermione called them over. Noticing he has Spencer's attention already, he calls out his other friend's name.

Slowly, Harry starts off once more, "I've been thinking. I — I want to go to Godric's Hollow."

Spencer is unsurprised by his request and simply glances at Hermione. She is staring up at him with her eyes unfocused. For a moment, Spencer assumes she is being jinxed, but she knows that is not it. All honestly Spencer does not blame Harry for wanting to head to that place. It is where he was born and where his parents were brutally murdered. Though, the next words Hermione releases definitely surprises her.

"Yes," Hermione nods. "Yes, I've been wondering that too. I really think we'll have to."

The young Montague widens her eyes. "Did you just agree with Harry?" A quiet silence pass through them as if they are waiting for Ricky to make a comment about how the world is coming to an end because of this agreement. Then, Harry notices the crestfallen look on Spencer's face as she realized no one will make up for it and he turns to Hermione, "Did you hear me right?" He questions in shock.

"Of course I did. You want to go to Godric's Hollow. I agree, I think we should. I mean, I can't think of anywhere else it could be either. It'll be dangerous, but the more I think about it, the more likely it seems it's there," Hermione explains, a new sense of bewilderment appearing on her face. Harry and Spencer share a look of confusion before the latter questions, "Er — what's there?"

Hermione stares at Spencer who shrugs in agreement. "Well, the sword, Harry! Dumbledore must have known you'd want to go back there, and I mean, Godric's Hollow is Godric Gryffindor's birthplace—"

"I suppose you're right," Spencer murmurs while Harry appears taken back, "Really? Gryffindor came from Godric's Hollow?"

"Harry, did you ever even open A History of Magic?" Hermione rolls her eyes at the boy. Harry smiles gently and for what Spencer assumes is more genuine than it has been for months. "Erm," he clears his throat, "I might've opened it, you know, when I bought it... just the once..."

"Well, as the village is named after him I'd have thought you might have made the connection," Hermione sounds much more like her old self than she has done of late; Harry and Spencer half expect her to announce that she was off to the library— which Spencer truly misses as well now that she thinks about it. "There's a bit about the village in A History of Magic, wait..."

Spencer raises an eyebrow curiously knowing she knows the book out of memory, but is unsure of what section she is focused on. Hermione opens the beaded bag and rummages for a while, finally extracting her copy of their old school textbook, A History of Magic by Bathilda Bagshot, which she thumbs through until finding the page she wanted. Spencer peers toward it and lets the word go off on her head while Hermione reads it: "'Upon the signature of the International Statute of Secrecy in 1689, wizards went into hiding for good. It was natural, perhaps, that they formed their own small communities within a community. Many small villages and hamlets attracted several magical families, who banded together for mutual support and protection. The villages of Tinworth in Cornwall, Upper Flagley in Yorkshire, and Ottery St. Catchpole on the south coast of England were notable homes to knots of Wizarding families who lived alongside tolerant and sometimes Confunded Muggles. Most celebrated of these half-magical dwelling places is, perhaps, Godric's Hollow, the West Country village where the great wizard Godric Gryffindor was born, and where Bowman Wright, Wizarding smith, forged the first Golden Snitch. The graveyard is full of the names of ancient magical families, and this accounts, no doubt, for the stories of hauntings that have dogged the little church beside it for many centuries.'"

"You and your parents aren't mentioned," Hermione continues, closing the book, "because Professor Bagshot doesn't cover anything later than the end of the nineteenth century. But you see? Godric's Hollow, Godric Gryffindor, Gryffindor's sword; don't you think Dumbledore would have expected you to make the connection?"

Spencer furrows her eyebrows. "Yes, but that also seems like something anybody else can connect, you get me? What if he has already..." she does not bother finishing knowing that Harry wants to go to Godric's Hollow to see his parent's house and their graveyards.

Eventually, Harry questions, "Remember what Muriel said?"

"Aunt Muriel? What about her?" Spencer questions in surprise. Meanwhile, Hermione tilts her own head in confusion. "Who?"

"You know," he hesitates. Spencer can practically hear his best friend's name come out of his mouth without even meaning to. Either way, he chooses not to say his name but rather, "Ginny's great-aunt. At the wedding. The one who said you had skinny ankles."

"Oh," Hermione gazes away from them. It is a sticky moment since they all know that Ron's name was a presence being felt. Spencer also wore herself off of saying Ricky's knowing then they would think about the redhead. Even so, she thinks of the two everyday. Harry notices the discomfort and continues, "She said Bathilda Bagshot still lives in Godric's Hollow."

Spencer widens her eyes in alertness and tugs his arm. "What if she has it? Is that a possibility?" Her question captures Hermione and Harry interests. Hermione seems to make the connection and has a look similar to Spencer while Harry seems to be debating. Either way, he slowly nods in agreement.

"He might have, yeah... so, are we doing to Godric's Hollow?" Harry questions slyly, raising his own eyebrows in hope and excitement.

"Yes, but we'll have to think it through carefully, Harry." Hermione is sitting up now, and the two can tell that the prospect of having a plan again has lifted her mood as much as theirs. "We'll need to practice Disapparating together under the Invisibility Cloak for a start, and perhaps Disillusionment Charms will be sensible too, unless you think we should go the whole hog and use Polyjuice Potion? In that case we'll need to collect hair from somebody. I actually think we'd better do that, Harry, the thicker our disguises the better..."

Spencer is not happy, but as she looks at Harry's face, a part of her eases up to notice how excited he feels. She does not understand his excitement, but she enjoys watching the smile he used to wear appear. It is the same with Hermione. Apparently, actually having some sort of plan is functional for all of them. Spencer knows she feels like something is worth doing now. The two girls began talking out their ideas only receiving nods from Harry every now and then.

Them heading to Godric's Hollow does not happen immediately. Hermione and Spencer planned out for them to only head toward the place when they can Apparate and Disapparate together under the Cloak. Hermione also proposed to be under the impression of Polyjuice Potion, but Harry urgently denies covering themselves up. Spencer was about to agree with Hermione before Harry had used the excuse, "I don't want to head to where I was suppose to grow up as a different person. I want to be me."

Spencer had no idea how to shut that idea out when she can see how determined he is to see his parent's graves with his own eyes rather than an unknown muggle's. Hermione, although hesitant, agreed to it a couple of days later. When their plan is all complete, that was when its mission took place.

The young Montague fixes the Horcrux on her neck and grabs her two friends hand before they Apparate to the village under cover of darkness. Harry lowers the Invisibility Cloak away from them and he opens his eyes slower than the other two. Spencer takes a look around as they stand hand in hand in a snowy lane under a dark blue sky. The night's first stars are already glimmering feebly. Cottages stand on either side of the narrow road, Christmas decorations twinkling in their windows. She supposes the only good thing about not knowing what day it is has to be the fact that her brain is completely puzzled by it that it has not panicked. The concept of time is odd to her now. Every day feels the same way and thus, what Morgana had done to her about two years ago... it is stuck in her nightmares but not the same panic she received a year ago. Her eyes stop at a glow of golden streetlights that indicate the center of the village.

"All this snow!" Hermione whispers quietly and suspiciously. She has her arms crossed and continues to look over her shoulder in panic. "Why didn't we think of snow? After all our precautions, we'll leave prints! We'll just have to get rid of them — you go in front, I'll do it —"

"There are muggles who find stuff interesting, 'Mione. I think we're good," Harry denies, stowing the Cloak under his jacket. He lets the two girls wrap their arm around his while they make their way forward, the icy air stinging their faces as they pass more cottages. Spencer has always been a victim to being easily cold, but she especially hates how being out in the open during this time has been seemingly more awful than any other time she has felt cold. They pass many cottages while looking out for any that which James and Lily Potter lived or even where Bathilda now lives.

A little lane along which they are walking curves to the left and the heart of the village, a small square, is revealed to them. Strung all around with colored lights, there is what looked like a war memorial in the middle, partly obscured by a windblown Christmas tree. There are several shops, a post office, a pub, and a little church whose stained-glass windows were glowing jewel-bright across the square. The snow here has become impacted: It is hard and slippery where people have trodden on it all day. Villagers are crisscrossing in front of them, their figures briefly illuminated by streetlamps. They hear a snatch of laughter and pop music as the pub door opens and closes; then they hear a carol start up inside the little church.

"Harry, Spencer, I think it's Christmas Eve!" Hermione exclaims. Spencer takes another look around noticing how bright the lights are. She cannot believe it. Christmas Eve already? Her eyes are almost popping out by how much that surprises her. Four months and six days since it has been her birthday. In two weeks time it will be five months since they ran away from the wedding and onto the run.

"Is it?" Harry questions in shock. They have all lost track for they have not even seen a newspaper. Hermione nods with a slight frown. "I'm sure it is," she murmurs sadly.

Their eyes fall upon the church. Behind it there is a graveyard where Spencer assumes is where Harry's parents are. She glances at him in concern and notices the fear deep in his eyes. With a warm smile, she grabs ahold of his hand and squeezes it to let him know that she is there with him. Knowing someone has to take the lead, she places herself in between the two of them, grabs Hermione's free hand and pulls the two forward. Halfway across the square, however, Hermione stops dead and points at the war memorial, "Harry, look!"

As they pass it, it has transformed. Instead of an obelisk covered in names, there is a statue of three people: a man with untidy hair and glasses, a woman with long hair and a kind, pretty face, and a baby boy sitting in his mother's arms. Snow lay upon all their heads, like fluffy white caps. Spencer does not need to think hard knowing who they are immediately. James Potter, Lily Potter, and Harry himself as a baby are huddled up together with a bright smile on their statues.

Harry draws closer, gazing up into his parents' faces. Then, he stares away and focuses back on the church. "C'mon," he whispers. Spencer figures it hurts to see the statue even more than it should have. The singing grows louder as they approach the church. Spencer feels a wave of sadness go through her as her head immediately connects the singing to Hogwarts. When Peeves would bellow rude versions of carols, of the Great Hall being immensely decorated with Christmas trees, lights, mistletoes. Dumbledore wearing a bonnet and many students wearing happy faces. Of course, fifth-year had been her worse since before that she would stay at Hogwarts during the holidays and simply participate in whatever the professors had planned. Last year, it had been her best one yet with all the Weasleys surrounding her along with Daniel and Remus and Tonks and Harry...

There is a kissing gate at the entrance to the graveyard. Spencer pushes it open as quietly as possible and they edge through it. On either side of the slippery path to the church doors, the snow lay deep and untouched. They move off through the snow, carving deep trenches behind them as they walk around the building, keeping to the shadows beneath the brilliant windows. Behind the church, row upon row of snowy tombstones protruded from a blanket of pale blue that is flecked with dazzling red, gold, and green wherever the reflections from the stained glass hit the snow.

Harry moves toward the nearest grave. "Look at this, it's an Abbott, could be some long-lost relation of Hannah's!"

Spencer leans closer to him and slowly nods in agreement while Hermione begs, "Keep your voice down."

They wade deeper and deeper into the graveyard, gouging dark tracks into the snow behind them, stooping to peer at the words on old headstones, every now and then squinting into the surrounding darkness to make absolutely sure that they were unaccompanied

"Harry, here!" Hermione is two rows of tombstones away. Knowing it is faster to separate themselves to look for their faces, Harry and Spencer suddenly wade back to her, wondering if she has found his parent's graves.

"Is it — ?"

"No, but look!" She points to the dark stone. Harry and Spencer stoop down and sees upon the frozen, lichen-spotted granite, the words Kendra Dumbledore and, a short way below her dates of birth and death, and her daughter Ariana. There is also a quotation: Where your treasure is, there will your heart be also.

The Dumbledore family had indeed lived here, and part of it had died there as well. Spencer only knows some stuff from what he heard Aunt Muriel and whomever else about Dumbledore's life. The elder wizard held so many secrets to himself, Spencer begins to wonder how many are there to begin with. Hermione is looking at Harry, but his face his hidden in the shadows. She read the words on the tombstone again. Where your treasure is, there will your heart be also. She does not understand what these words mean. Surely Dumbledore had chosen them, as the eldest member of the family once his mother had died.

"Are you sure he never mentioned — ?" Hermione begins.

"No," Harry denies curtly, then, "let's keep looking," and he turns away. Spencer watches him continue trailing to look for his parent's grave and she goes on her own path to do the same. At one point, Hermione had cried out to them, but then a few seconds later changed her mind claiming it was the wrong name. Spencer runs her hand through her hair before she notices something peculiar.

The young girl bends down and starts rubbing at the crumbling, mossy stone until she is able to visibly notice a familiar mark. "Hermione... Harry, this isn't their grave, but..." Spencer calls out for them softly, tilting her head curiously as she continues to rub the snow off the old grave. Harry and Hermione make their way toward her and stare at her in confusion until she points out, "This is the mark from the book."

Hermione follows her gaze and gasps. "What does that say? Ig— Ignotus?"

"Ignotus? That can't be... he's the humblest and wisest of the three Peverell brothers," Spencer recalls, "I only know it from the rumors, truthfully. There is nothing about them mentioned in the books, but when I was seven I dug deeper and heard about the Peverell family possibly being the origin of the story. Once I realized it was just a rumor I stopped but if I am correct... he was the one to receive the Invisibility Cloak. I'm starting to believe I was not far off, Hermione..."

The Peverell brothers? Spencer frowns. She wishes she read more about them, but she believed it to be a simple rumor just as there is countless more of other families. Most of them pureblooded figures and since the Peverell had been one as well she simply assumed it was the same ordeal. Thus, she has only heard about which brother supposedly gain what, but she thought of it nothing but a lie. Perhaps she has been mistaken.

She only begins to trail off when she notices Harry is no longer beside them. Deciding it is best to think about what is going through her mind at a later time, the two girls continue walking together to look for the Potter's grave. Every now and then she recognizes a surname that, like Abbott, she has met at Hogwarts. Sometimes there are several generations of the same Wizarding family represented in the graveyard. The darkness and the silence seem to become, all of a sudden, much deeper because of how the carols have finished. Her thoughts are taken off the muggles walking away when Hermione tugs into her arm and points with a shaky finger toward a spot.

Spencer glances to where she points and her eyes soften immediately. Then Hermione's voice comes out sharp and clear as she calls out for Harry, "Harry, they're here... right here."

The headstone is only two rows behind Kendra and Ariana's. It is made of white marble, just like Dumbledore's tomb, and this makes it easy to read, as it seems to shine in the dark. Spencer heads beside Harry and silently holds his hand once more. He is staring at the grave blankly while they read the words engraved on it:

ᴊᴀᴍᴇs ᴘᴏᴛᴛᴇʀ ʟɪʟʏ ᴘᴏᴛᴛᴇʀ
ʙᴏʀɴ 27 ᴍᴀʀᴄʜ 1960 ʙᴏʀɴ 30 ᴍᴀʀᴄʜ 1960
ᴅɪᴇᴅ 31 ᴅᴇᴄᴇᴍʙᴇʀ 1981 ᴅɪᴇᴅ 31 ᴅᴇᴄᴇᴍʙᴇʀ 1981

The last enemy that shall be destroyed is death.

Harry read the words slowly, as though he would have only one chance to take in their meaning, and he reads the last of them aloud, "'The last enemy that shall be destroyed is death'... Isn't that a Death Eater idea? Why is that there?"

Spencer holds his hand tighter. "Not necessarily. It just means... life even after death. That in some way, your parents are still in everyone's souls despite..."

She lets herself trail off when she feels Harry's hot tears stream down onto her hands. Hermione grabs his free hand and squeezes in comfort. Spencer stays quiet as she allows for him to cry, his lips pressed hard together while staring down at the snow where his parents lie. It is only when he begins to sob that she feels her own eyes water and she wraps him onto her embrace. His head falls onto her shoulder and starts wetting her shirt. Spencer soothes him quietly, her hands carefully going through his messy hair. She is not sure how long they stand there, with one of his hands wrapped around her waist and the other holding Hermione's hand. He slowly starts regaining back control of his emotions and separates himself from her grasps. His hands still hold onto the both of theirs. Hermione and Spencer share a similar look before both of them wave their hand in a circular motion and two wreaths of Christmas roses blossom before them. Harry catches both of them and bends down to lay it on his parents's grave.

Right when he stands back up, Harry wraps his arms around Hermione's and Spencer's shoulder. The two girls smile at him warmly before wrapping theirs around his waist. They turn in silence and walk away through the snow, past Dumbledore's mother and sister, back toward the dark church and the out-of-sight kissing gate.

"Harry, stop," Hermione murmurs when they reach the grave of the unknown Abbott. Spencer and Harry share a look of confusion before turning toward her. The Chosen One raises an eyebrow questioningly and questions, "What's wrong?"

Hermione clutches her hold tighter. "There's someone there. Someone watching us. I can tell. There, over by the bushes." They stand quite still, holding on to each other, gazing at the dense black boundary of the graveyard. Spencer squints her eyes as if it will help her see whatever Hermione is noticing. It does not.

"I saw something move, I could have sworn I did..." Hermione mutters more for herself than them. She breaks her hold on him to have her wand arm free. They hear something move behind the bush, but it is nothing except a small shadow of a creature. "It's a cat," Harry says, after a second or two, "or a bird. If it was a Death Eater we'd be dead by now. But let's get out of here, and we can put the Cloak back on."

They glance back repeatedly as they make their way out of the graveyard. Spencer is glad when they reach the gate because then Harry pulls out the Cloak. Before when they had the other two members, they did not all fit. However, seeing as the three of them are as slender as the next person, the three somehow fit. The pub is fuller than before: Many voices inside it are now singing the carol that they have been hearing as they approach the church.

Hermione murmurs, "Let's go this way," and pulls them down the dark street leading out of the village in the opposite direction from which they had entered. Spencer can make out the point where the cottages end and the lane turns into open country again. They walk as quickly as they dare, past more windows sparkling with multicolored lights, the outlines of Christmas trees dark through the curtains. "How are we going to find Bathilda's house?" Hermione then questions, shivering a little like how Spencer is and her eyes glancing back over her shoulder. "Harry? What do you think? Harry?"

Hermione tugs at his arm, but Harry is not paying attention. He is looking toward the dark mass that stood at the very end of this row of houses. Next moment, he starts speeding up, dragging Hermione and Spencer along with him; Hermione slips a little on the ice and only does not fall straight on her face because Spencer grabs her arm right on time.

"Harry —"

"Look... Look at it, Spencer, Hermione," Harry points toward a cottage. Spencer follows his gaze and her mouth slightly opens in awe and grief. She can see it. The cottage that the Potters used to live on. The Fidelius Charm must have died with James and Lily. The hedge has grown wild in the sixteen years since Harry was taken from the place his parents were killed. Most of the cottage is still standing, though entirely covered in dark ivy and snow, but the right side of the top floor has been blown apart; that must be where the curse had backfired. The three of them stand at the gate, gazing up at the wreck of what must once have been a cottage just like those that flanked it.

"I wonder why nobody's ever rebuilt it?" whispers Hermione.

Spencer sighs a little. "You can't... and even if you could... I don't think any wizards would allow you to repair it," she informs quietly and softly not wanting to hurt any of Harry's feeling. He nods in understanding and then slips his hand from beneath the Cloak and grasps the snowy and thickly rusty gate.

"You're not going to go inside? It looks unsafe, it might — oh, Harry, look!" Hermione gushes, staring wide-eyed at the sign that suddenly appears because of Harry's touch on the snow. A sign had risen out of the ground in front of them, up through the tangles of nettles and weeds, like some bizarre, fast-growing flower, and in golden letters upon the wood it says:

On this spot, on the night of 31 October 1981, Lily and James Potter lost their lives. Their son, Harry, remains the only wizard ever to have survived the Killing Curse. This house, invisible to Muggles, has been left in its ruined state as a monument to the Potters and as a reminder of the violence that tore apart their family.

Spencer lets her eyes close at the thoughtful words before analyzing what else is surrounding it. Scribbles have been added by other witches and wizards who hagevcome to see the place where the Boy Who Lived had escaped. Some had merely signed their names in Everlasting Ink; others had carved their initials into the wood, still others had left messages. The most recent of these, shining brightly over sixteen years' worth of magical graffiti, all said similar things.

Good luck, Harry, wherever you are.

If you read this, Harry, we're all behind you!

Long live Harry Potter.

"They shouldn't have written on the sign!" Hermione gasps, indignant. Spencer shakes her head before making sure Harry seems fine with it seeing as it is his gifts. Luckily, Harry beams at them. She herself thinks it is thoughtful and amazing. Others have visited before them perhaps hoping Harry will appear and find gratitude in their simple words. It is a sign that they believe in him and are giving their support to him and not Voldemort.

"It's brilliant. I'm glad they did. I..." Harry breaks off. A heavily muffled figure is hobbling up the lane toward them, silhouetted by the bright lights in the distant square. Spencer narrows her eyes suspiciously before making the figure out to be a woman. She is moving slowly, possibly frightened of slipping on the snowy ground. Her stoop, her stoutness, her shuffling gait all gives an impression of extreme age. They watch in silence as she draws nearer. Spencer glances at Harry to notice him waiting to see whether the woman will turn into any of the cottages she is passing. At last, she comes to a halt a few yards from them and simply stands there in the middle of the frozen road, facing them.

Spencer bites her lip to stop herself from hissing in pain as Hermione pinches her arm. She knows what she is trying to tell her. There is next to no chance that this woman is a Muggle: She is standing there gazing at a house that ought to have been completely invisible to her, if she is not a witch. Even assuming that she is a witch, however, it is odd behavior to come out on a night this cold, simply to look at an old ruin. By all the rules of normal magic, meanwhile, she ought not to be able to see the three of them at all. Nevertheless, Spencer has the strangest feeling that she knows that they are there, and also who they are.

To confirm her thoughts, the woman raises a gloved hand and beckons them forward. Spencer forces herself not to yelp in surprise and huddles close to Hermione while the other does the same. "How does she know?" Hermione whispers to them with fear in her system.

Harry shakes his head. The woman beckons them again, more vigorously. Spencer shakes her head at Harry knowing he was thinking about listening to the odd woman. Unfortunately, Harry is not one to listen and he speaks up to ask, "Are you Bathilda?"

Hermione jumps up in surprise for him speaking while Spencer internally groans. Either way, all of their eyes widen when the muffled figure nods and calls for them again. Beneath the Cloak the three of them stare at each other. Harry raises his eyebrows; Hermione gives a tiny, nervous nod. Spencer frowns not liking the feeling she is getting from all of this but also because she knows she lost a battle between the two other ones.

They step toward the woman and, at once, she turns and hobbles off back the way they had come. Leading them past several houses, she turns in at a gate. They follow her up the front path through a garden nearly as overgrown as the one they had just left. She fumbles for a moment with a key at the front door, then opens it and steps back to let them pass. Can she talk? If she can it is odd that she isn't but if she cannot then how is she even alive and walking? Those questions run through Spencer's head while clutching her hands onto Harry's arms.

This woman— Bathilda— smells bad, or perhaps it is her house. Spencer is not sure except that something is smelling absolutely horrendous. She wrinkles her nose in disgust as they sidle past her and Harry pulls off the Cloak to reveal all three of them. Standing beside Hermione, Spencer looks at the old woman with suspicious eyes. She is far tiny and yet there is something odd about her. Maybe Spencer has a thing against elderly people, but she does not trust this one at all. Even if she had wrote a book that Spencer memorizes on the top of her head. Bathilda closes the door behind them, her knuckles blue and mottled against the peeling paint, then turns and peers into Harry's face. Her eyes are thick with cataracts and sunken into folds of transparent skin, and her whole face is dotted with broken veins and liver spots. The odor of old age, of dust, of unwashed clothes and stale food intensifies as she unwound a moth-eaten black shawl, revealing a head of scant white hair through which the scalp showed clearly.

"Bathilda?" Harry repeats.

She nods again. Spencer swallows deeply when she suddenly feels the locket against her skin ticking stronger than before. It is something they all have felt before whenever they wear that cursed item. However, she also does not enjoy how it suddenly increased out of nowhere. Is it because the Sword of Gryffindor is near? Or because of something else? Something tells Spencer the locket would not be excited if it was near the sword. She quietly tugs onto Harry's sleeves and his eyes meet hers immediately.

Spencer motions to her neck and he furrows his eyebrows in thought. Before he can tell her anything, Bathilda shuffles past them, pushing Hermione aside as though she had not seen her, and vanishing into what seems to be a sitting room.

"Harry, I'm not sure about this," breaths out Hermione. Spencer nods in agreement and grabs her hand to comfort each other. Hermione holds it even tighter.

Their friend gives them an assuring glance. "Look at the size of her; I think we could overpower her if we have to," Harry assures them. "Listen, I should have told you, I knew she wasn't all there. Muriel called her 'gaga.'"

There is an odd noise coming from the next room. Spencer jumps in surprise to actually hear something that sounds so incoherent and loud while Hermione does the same, clutching even tighter onto her hand.

"It's okay," Harry comments reassuringly, and he leads the way into the sitting room. Spencer and Hermione share an unsure look before following him. The young Montague was about to say something on the lines about 'What do you mean okay? Why are we following you when that noise did not even sound human!' though she stops herself because somehow Harry seems to have understood or something in between the lines. Bathilda is tottering around the place lighting candles, but it is still very dark, not to mention extremely dirty. Thick dust crunches beneath their feet, and Spencer's nose detects, underneath the dank and mildewed smell, something worse, like meat gone bad. Or perhaps thousands of dead bodies, she thinks to herself while repeating the words 'don't throw up, don't throw up'.

"Let me do that," offers Harry, and he takes the matches from her. The woman stands watching him as he finishes lighting the candle stubs that stand on saucers around the room, perched precariously on stacks of books and on side tables crammed with cracked and moldy cups. The last surface on which Harry spots a candle is a bow-fronted chest of drawers on which there stands a large number of photographs. When the flame dances into life, its reflection wavers on their dusty glass and silver. Spencer sees a few tiny movements from the pictures. Her attention heads toward the woman as she fumbles with a few logs.

"Mrs. — Miss — Bagshot?" Harry calls gently, and his voice shakes slightly. "Who is this?"

Spencer turns around to see what he is pointing at. Her eyes stare at the photograph he is looking at and finds him familiar. It is the one from the section that Rita Skeeter released a few months ago. The one about Dumbledore's life which is quite ironic because beside the man is in fact Dumbledore himself. Young, but still noticeable. Then again... the one beside him seems familiar too.

"Miss Bagshot?" Harry repeats, and he advances with the picture in his hands as the flames burst into life in the fireplace. Bathilda looks up at his voice, and the Horcrux for some reason beats faster upon her own chest. Spencer makes a face and glances away. "Who is this person?" Harry asks her, pushing the picture forward.

The woman peers at it solemnly, then up at Harry.

"Do you know who this is?" he repeats in a much slower and louder voice than usual. "This man? Do you know him? What's he called?"

Bathilda merely looks vague.

"Who is this man?" he repeats loudly.

Hermione stares at it and then back at him. "Harry, what are you doing?" She questions softly.

"This picture, Hermione, it's the thief, the thief who stole from Gregorovitch! Please!" Harry exclaims to Bathilda. "Who is this?"

Spencer feels the Horcrux's pulse beat even faster. "Harry..." she warns quietly, her voice barely above a whisper as she suddenly feels light-headed. It is as if the locket is taking away her life energy or something similar to that. Harry turns to her in concern when she grasps his arms and shakes her head. Miss Bagshot glances away for a minute allowing for Harry to then get the necklace out of Spencer's neck and placing it on himself. The dark feeling she had suddenly relaxes when it is off. Spencer is not sure whether that is a relief or if she should now be worried for Harry.

She thinks it is perhaps the latter as the older witch turns back to them with a cold stare.

"Why did you ask us to come with you, Mrs. — Miss — Bagshot?" asks Hermione, raising her own voice. "Was there something you wanted to tell us?"

Giving no sign that she heard Hermione, Bathilda now shuffles a few steps closer to Harry. With a little jerk of her head she looks back into the hall. Harry stares at her in confusion. "You want us to leave?" he asks

She repeats the gesture, this time pointing firstly at him, then at herself, then at the ceiling. "Oh, right... I think she wants me to go upstairs with her," Harry whispers to the two girls.

"All right," Hermione nods as she trembles, "let's go."

But when Hermione and Spencer moved, Bathilda shook her head with surprising vigor, once more pointing first at Harry, then to herself. Spencer narrows her eyes suspiciously.

"She wants me to go with her, alone," Harry voices what the witch tried to tell them.

"Why?" questions Hermione, and her voice rings out sharp and clear in the candlelit room; the old lady shakes her head a little at the loud noise. Spencer glares at her instead and tells Harry, "You're mental if you think we're letting you go with that woman alone."

"Spencer," Harry warns, giving her a pointed look. "Maybe Dumbledore told her to give the sword to me, and only to me?"

The young Montague rolls her eyes and continues glaring at the woman. He may have his guard slightly down, but there is no way that everything is completely normal. In fact, this has been one of the oddest days compared to their last when they snuck into the Ministry.

Hermione mimics her worry but has enough courage to say, "Okay... but be quick, Harry."

And despite Spencer's continuous glares, Harry follows behind Miss Bagshot. He glances back to them and smiles reassuringly which does not help Spencer at all. When he walks out of the room, Spencer takes out her wand. Hermione turns to her and jumps in surprise. She glances to where Harry left and whispers, "What are you doing?"

"You and I both know something's not right here," Spencer tells her firmly. Hermione purses her lips and nods as if letting her continue. Moving her wand in a particular movement, Spencer murmurs under breath, "Revelio."

Nothing peculiar happens. Hermione sends her a small shrug before she glances at the bookcase. Spencer frowns upset that she is just being mentally scared of her own mind instead of letting everything pass as normal. It does not make sense, however. There is something odd about this entire place. Or else why would the Horcrux feel so different? She taps her chin thoughtfully and just as she starts to lower her wand, Spencer gazes up with alertness as she hears a thud coming from upstairs. Following along is the sound of glass shattering and without a second to waste, Spencer starts sprinting up the stairs with Hermione following close behind. Her friends calls out his Harry's name, but he does call back.

Once the two girls appeared to where Harry was, Spencer does not waste time on being frozen and quickly strikes, Stupefy! The snake trying to suffocate Harry. It barely hits the snake, but it releases Harry and heads right at Spencer instead. Diffindo! Spencer points right at the snake and watches as slices appear and yet the snake does not seem to stop coming. Hermione acts quick from beside her and causes the snake to back up to where Harry is.

Harry begins to weakly stand up, but then the snake is nearing by him and Hermione shoots another spell right at it. The snake flies into the air, smacking Harry hard in the face while it rises up to the ceiling. Spencer points her wand at the snake again but before she can cause anything, her attention heads toward Harry who yells, "He's coming!"

Hermione lets the snake fall in surprise while Spencer widens her eyes in worry. Suddenly, everything is chaos. The snake smashes shelves from the wall, and splinters china flew everywhere as Harry jumps over the bed and seizes both Hermione and Spencer. The two girls shriek in pain while Harry pulls them back across the bed. The snake rears again, but with Harry yelling in pain because of his scar, Spencer knows something worse is coming. The snake lunges as Harry takes a running leap, dragging Hermione and Spencer with him; as it strikes, Hermione screams, "Confringo!" while Spencer at the same time yells, "Expulso!" and their spells flings around the room, exploding the wardrobe mirror and ricocheting back at them, bouncing from floor to ceiling. Everything is becoming destroyed with the two spells combining together. Glass flying around cuts Spencer's cheek before she is pulled by Harry and he bolts out of the smashed window into nothingness— the only thing being heard are all the yells they are releasing as they twist in midair and a final glimpse of something suddenly appearing at the destroyed home.

Spencer lands with Harry falling on top of her. Usually, she would be annoyed by it because he threw all of them through the window making them receive even more cuts. However, he does not land on her because he wants to, but because he is shaking in a way that reminds her back to what occurred at the Department of Mysteries. Her eyes widen in alert and panic follows along while the memory of seeing Voldemort crosses her mind and Harry is struggling—

"Spencer! Spencer, what happened?" Hermione cries in worry, bending down beside her to check on Harry. Spencer barely realizes that she is crying as tears drop on her friend's shirt. She rubs her eyes and shakes her head continuously.

"I-I don't know," Spencer stammers, bringing his head onto her lap while moving his hair to the side noticing how his scar seems to be slightly red. Her eyes wander around his body and notices the bite mark from the snake. She tugs into Hermione's arms and with a shaky finger points toward it. "The snake—"

"Oh my," Hermione gasps. She takes out her beaded bag and starts searching for some dittany and a few other items. Meanwhile, Spencer sniffles quietly and carefully stands up. Harry is not unconscious by the way he continues to tremble and shake his head like if he is having a nightmare. She cannot lift him up since he is double her size, but she points her wand toward him and begins leading him toward his bed.

Spencer fixes him up before her hand reaches up to the Horcrux. When she tries pulling, her brows furrow in surprise when the locket does not even butch. It's stuck, she realizes slowly. Hermione makes her way toward them with some clean cloth and dittany on her other hand. She stops momentarily when she spots Spencer's shocked expression. When she questions what else is wrong, Spencer reveals, "I can't take it off."

Hermione glances at her confusedly before realizing what she meant as Spencer tries to take the locket off again. Nothing happens. The young Montague swallows deeply before she points her wand at Harry and casts a Severing Charm. Wincing as she sees the locket slightly starting to shake itself off, she focuses her magic on taking it out and it flies out of his chest. Spencer barely catches and slams it further away from Harry before turning back to him.

The two girls cover their mouth when they notice that the locket left behind a deep mark on Harry's chest. "Can we heal it?" Hermione questions as if she does not know the answer. She does. Either way, Spencer answers numbly, "No. It's dark magic."

She shakes her head out of her thoughts and heads to heal Harry's cuts and the bite from the snake. Remembering the ones she used to heal Ron's arms and the magic Blaise taught her what felt like years ago, Harry's skin slowly started to appear better. Hermione then begins to take out the blood left behind (though that is mostly for her part since Spencer cleaned him off with magic) and placed the dittany on his arm to finish it up.

They wait for hours. Hermione heals Spencer up to the best of her ability after Spencer guides her in how to properly do the spell despite it being the first time. The two girls slightly chuckle to themselves as the words Spencer tells her are almost the same that she had said back in their fifth year. Pronounce the words right, believe in yourself, have confidence... For it being the first time Hermione dares to use healing magic, she does pretty good.

Harry stays on his bed with countless of groans and shouting from his side. Hermione and her stay by the side in worry knowing they cannot help him like they did to each other. They cannot stop whatever he is seeing or feeling.

"No," Harry moans. Spencer glances up from the comments Blaise has written down on her book. He is shaking his head while letting out the simple word. Not shouting, but barely above a whisper. "No..."

Her friend starts to shake even more and she puts away the book in order to reach his side. He is sweating far too much to her liking and she tries to comfort, "Shh... it's okay, Harry. You're alright."

Harry shakes his head as if he understood her and cries, "No... I dropped it... I dropped it..."

Hermione heads beside her with the same concerned glance and tells him, "Harry, it's okay, wake up, wake up!"

And finally, after so many hours of waiting, Harry flutters his eyes open. Hermione lets out a shaky chuckle and whispers, "Harry..."

Spencer hides her teary eyes and smiles weakly. "How're you feeling?"

Harry slowly starts sitting up as he replies with an obvious lie, "Good." Spencer forces herself not to roll her eyes at how his first thought is to lie about how he is feeling. Instead, she helps making him comfortable by placing some blankets behind his back. By now it is almost dawn, flat light beyond the canvas ceiling. He is drenched in sweat and Spencer can see him realizing that as well. "We got away," he points out dumbly.

"Yes," Hermione nods. "Spencer had to lift you up with magic... a Hover Charm, I think. You've been... Well, you haven't been quite..."

There are purple shadows under both her brown eyes and in Spencer's hazel ones— she knows Harry spots them right away just by one glance. After what seems like ages, Hermione clears her throat and finishes, "You've been ill... Quite ill."

"How long ago did we leave?" Harry questions in surprise.

Spencer parts his hair to the side to let his face receive a fresh blow of wind. "Hours ago. It's nearly morning," she replies softly.

"And I've been... what, unconscious?"

The two of them grimace. "Not exactly," Hermione answers uncomfortably. "You've been shouting and moaning and... things," she adds in a tone that is clearly not at ease. Spencer shudders at the reminder. She looks down at his chest and changes the topic, "The Horcrux had been stuck on you... to your chest. I had to use a Severing Charm to get it away."

Hermione nods in agreement and continues, "The snake bit you too, but nothing that we couldn't fix." She attempts to smile at him but it appears more like a wince than anything. Harry pulls the sweaty T-shirt he is wearing away from himself and looks down. All three of them spot a scarlet oval over his heart where the locket burned him.

"Where've you put the Horcrux?" His head rolls back to them in exhaustion, staring at the two girls kindly. Hermione points toward her bag and lets the towel rest on her desk. "In my bag. I think we should keep it off for a while."

He lies back on his pillows and looks into her pinched gray face. "We shouldn't have gone to Godric's Hollow. It's my fault, it's all my fault, Hermione, Spencer, I'm sorry," Harry apologizes, sending the two girls a glance filled with regret.

Spencer finally releases a genuine smile and shakes her head. "Don't be silly, Harry. You wanted to see your parents... after everything you've been through, you deserved that chance. Plus, it's not like we didn't want to go either," she comforts.

Hermione grabs his hand and squeezes it. "It's not your fault. I really thought Dumbledore might have left the sword there for you."

"Yeah, well... we got that wrong, didn't we?" Harry scoffs.

"What happened, Harry? What happened when she took you upstairs? Was the snake hiding somewhere? Did it just come out and kill her and attack you?" Hermione asks a question after another. Harry takes a while before answering, "No," he starts. "She was the snake... or the snake was her... all along."

"W-what?"

"Huh?"

Harry closes his eyes. "Bathilda must've been dead a while. The snake was... was inside her. You-Know-Who put it there in Godric's Hollow, to wait. You were right. He knew I'd go back."

Spencer gapes at him in shock. You would think she would not be surprised except she somehow is. "The snake was inside her?" Hermione repeats what they both found completely wild and yet most likely true.

Harry opens his eyes again to see the both of them appear nauseated and sick to the core. "Moony said there would be magic we'd never imagined," Harry coughs. He fails to realize that he had pronounced Remus's nickname. "She didn't want to talk in front of you, because it was Parseltongue, all Parseltongue, and I didn't realize, but of course I could understand her. Once we were up in the room, the snake sent a message to You-Know-Who, I heard it happen inside my head."

That explains why the woman— the thing had caused a noise her and Hermione could not understand and yet Harry continued like normal, Spencer frowns.

"—she changed, changed into the snake, and attacked," Harry continues. He stares down at the puncture marks left behind. "It wasn't supposed to kill me, just keep me there till You-Know-Who came. I should have killed the snake..."

Spencer then remembers something out of the sudden. "I-I thought I was going to kill it, but the snake... never mind, I must have just missed," Spencer shakes her head a few seconds later. Sick at heart, Harry suddenly sits up straight and throws off the covers.

"Harry, no, I'm sure you ought to rest!" Hermione exclaims demandingly.

"You two are the ones who need sleep. No offense, but I've never seen both of you terrible until now. I'm fine. I'll keep watch for a while," Harry argues defensively, eyeing their baggy eyes and exhausted face. Then, he glances around the room. "Where's my wand?"

Oh, Spencer remembers. They forgot to tell him about that.

She does not answer and nor does Hermione. They merely stare at him like if they do not want to admit anything. Unfortunately, Harry repeats the question, "Where's my wand, Hermione?"

Hermione starts biting her lip, and tears swim in her eyes. "Harry..."

"Where's my wand?"

She reaches down beside the bed and holds it out to him. The holly and phoenix wand is nearly severed in two. One fragile strand of phoenix feather keeps both pieces hanging together. The wood has splintered apart completely. Harry takes it into his hands as though it is a living thing that has suffered a terrible injury. Spencer stares at him with pity as he holds it out toward them.

"Mend it. Please," he whispers with small amount of hope.

Hermione gulps and starts, "Harry, I don't think, when it's broken like this —"

"Please, Hermione, try!"

"R-Reparo," Hermione points her wand to his. The dangling half of the wand reseals itself but Spencer knows it will no longer work. Not like how it used to. Harry holds it up and still tries it either way, "Lumos!"

The wand sparks feebly, then goes out. Harry points it at Hermione. "Expelliarmus!"

Hermione's wand gives a little jerk, but it does not leave her hand. The feeble attempt at magic is too much for Harry's wand, which split into two again. He stares at it, aghast, unable to take in what he is seeing... the wand that had survived so much...

"Harry," Hermione whispers so quietly he can probably hardly hear her. "I'm so, so sorry. I think it was me. As we were leaving, you know, the snake was coming for us, and so I cast a Blasting Curse, and it rebounded everywhere, and it must have — must have hit —"

Spencer glances away from them. "It was both of us," she reveals. "You casted the Blasting Curse and I made some other materials explode—"

"It was an accident," Harry interrupts, attempting to smile assuredly but a complete stunned expression on his face. "We'll — we'll find a way to repair it."

"Harry, I don't think we're going to be able to," Hermione cries, the tears trickling down her face. "Remember... remember Ron? When he broke his wand, crashing the car? It was never the same again, he had to get a new one."

"Well," Harry replies in a falsely matter-of-fact voice, "well, I'll just borrow yours for now, then. Spencer can keep hers while I keep watch."

Hermione stares at him with tears on her eyes before she hands over her wand. Spencer watches the two of them with a solemn look before letting her eyes follow Harry as he heads outside the tent. She leans beside Hermione with nothing more than a desire to sleep and never wake up. Either way, even as Hermione lets her head slowly fall toward her shoulder and a small little snore escaping the girl's nose, Spencer keeps her own open. She stares at where she assumes Harry is before glancing down to her own chest. The familiar beautiful stone given to her by Blaise seems to then glow a light orange and green — a sense of nervousness and worrying occurring altogether.

Then, as if enchanted by how Blaise is feeling, she hesitantly lets her hand wrap itself around the stone. Her eyes close and there it releases a sensation of stress and unsettledness for all of what has just occurred. The feeling of hopelessness and utter exhaustion. And she lets go immediately not wanting him to feel how horrible she is any more longer. After a few seconds of surprise being felt, her stone shines a light purple and her head tilts back when she can sense some happiness and a warm feeling that reminds her of home. And with her mind focusing on her own necklace rather than her surroundings, Spencer slowly dozes off to sleep.

(Little did they realize that this was just the beginning to them getting far...)

▂✫⌒*･ﾟ

AUTHOR'S NOTE:
i miss blaise 😔💔 he's so beautiful
like im in love with him and he's not
even... 😎🤏🏼😭🕶🤏🏼

anyway, yesterday spencer and ricky
made an appearance in totm and ik
spencer seems like such a know-it-all,
who wants to show off but she was
mentally abused in her own manor &
the only entertainment she had was
reading books. it is easy for her to recite
what she has read/heard and as a child
it comes out more easily. her manners
come from always being told what to do
and what would happen if she was disrespectful.