IX. HE'S GONE
CHAPTER NINE.
HE'S GONE
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Rosalie woke up to more screaming. At first she thought it was Ron again, and she thought that the whole day before had only been a dream and she was lying on the ground, him screaming in pain, and he hadn't been treated yet. But as she looked around, vision blurry as she fluttered her eyes open and close, she realized that she was in a sleeping bag inside a tent, not out on the grass with a Weasley moaning in pain.
No, this time it had been Harry. She saw Hermione bolt to her friend, and Rosalie too felt compelled to help, though she didn't know why. And she stood up from her sleeping bag, almost falling as she felt a tiny dizzy spell from how fast she stood up, and sat down next to the Granger girl who was peering over the boy.
"I thought it had stopped," Hermione softly said, looking at Harry once he woke up, but Harry shook his head at her comment. (And Rosalie felt confused.) "You can't let him in, Harry. Dumbledore himself said it. You have to close your mind. It's too dangerous –"
And at that moment, Rosalie felt more confused than she had ever felt in her life. What were they talking about? She wondered, but she never dared to stop their conversation, which seemed quite important. But Harry continued.
"It's not a candle I can blow out, Hermione. It always burns, even if it's just a flicker. Can you understand that?"
Harry turned away, causing Hermione to frown, "Tell me. What you saw."
"He's found him. Vol –" Rosalie sucked in a breath, but Harry stopped himself. "You-Know-How. He's found Gregorovitch –"
"The wandmaker?" Hermione asked him, cutting off the rest of what Harry was going to say.
"Yes," Harry nodded, "How'd you know?"
"Viktor got his wand from Gregorovitch. Most Durmstrang students did at one time. What's he got to do with You-Know-How?"
"Yeah, I don't understand what he would need from the wandmaker," Rosalie added, confusion written on her face because she knew him – know Voldemort – and didn't know why he would need another wand when he already stole Lucius Malfoy's.
"You-Know-Who wants something Gregorovitch once had – dunno what. But he's desperate to have it. It's as if his life depends on it," Harry answered. There was a squawk from inside – the radio – and Harry's eyes flared.
"Don't – it...comforts him," Hermione stopped Harry from going on a rampage.
"Well it sets my teeth on edge. What's he expecting to hear?" Harry snapped, "Good news?"
"I think he hopes he doesn't hear bad news," Hermione replied, "It gets him through the day."
"And what gets you through the day?" Harry asked him, only curiosity found in his voice.
"We've all made sacrifices, Harry," the Granger girl deflected. Harry just nods, knowing not to continue the conversation.
"How long before he can travel?" Harry then asked, nodding towards the tent.
"I don't know. It takes time. I'm doing all I can," Hermione depressingly answered.
"You're not doing enough," Harry spat, causing Rosalie to stiffen.
"Don't talk to her like that! There's not a spell that can just fix him! He's got to heal – the muggle way," Rosalie snapped back at him, "And that can't happen overnight. So be patient."
Harry said nothing as Hermione studied him, then, "Take it off." She then pointed to his chest; the locket. "Take it off. Now."
The Potter boy slipped off the locket, and his tightened muscles immediately relaxed and there was an apparent change in his demeanor.
"Better?"
"Loads."
Hermione took the locket from him, cradling it in her fingers. "It's cold," she noted, "Even though it's been lying against your skin for days." She looked at the boy, seeing how he studied it. "We'll take turns. Okay?"
Harry nodded and Hermione slipped the locket around her neck. She frowned, feeling the weight on her chest and the presence it had, the soul trapped inside twisting her thoughts and her pure heart immediately feeling the tiniest bit darker. Hermione nodded at them and then walked inside the tent.
"How do you get through the days?" Harry asked her, "I just sit out here and think about everything that's going to happen."
"I read...the journal Dumbledore gave me," Rosalie explained, "I'm trying to find something that will help us."
"Anything yet?" Harry questioned, noticing for the rest time how close they were.
"Nothing...at least, not really," she shook her head, "Really it's just about his past...things that I don't know will help. But I'm sure I'll find something...at least, I hope I do."
Harry silently nodded, watching the dying fire in front of them, the only warmth they had during the cold weather. And he asked another question: "Why did you want to help us?"
There was a reason, she knew. There was a deeper meaning than Dumbledore asked her to, made her promise, there was more. It was her childhood, there was the feeling of nothing – to never be anything – and she could never shake that away. It was forgotten, that feeling, until the cold seeped in during twilight and it warped around her thoughts, changing, twisting them until they didn't seem like her thoughts anymore. They were dark, worthless thoughts about trivial matters that made her so happy, but they were so irrelevant that the nothingness she felt made her realize that. It was small, it was something meaningful to her that only she would remember when she was old and wrinkly and recalling her past with no one to tell it to. And that was the reason why she did this; she didn't want to a Nothing, she wanted to be a Something who had great tales to tell her children about one day – she wanted to have someone who listened to her and loved her. That was the reason why.
But would she ever consider telling anyone that? No. She only ever told Dumbledore, someone that she trusted fully and never doubted that he cared for her in his own way. And Voldemort knew because she allowed him to, allowed him to see her memories of why she wanted to be a Something instead of a Nothing. And he realized that, he welcomed her with open arms, believing that she wanted to become a Something that way – with him. But she didn't, she had another agenda, she was the key. She wanted to be known for her brave actions of being a double agent, reporting details to the Order, where her loyalty lied, while acting as she was a Death Eater. She wanted to be a Something because of that, and she hoped that she would be remembered that way. But if things went south, the trio she stayed with figured out she had the Dark Mark on her left arm without allowing her to explain, she would only be remembered for being a Death Eater and her story would never be told.
But she lied to Harry then, and she would lie to him forever, "Dumbledore made me promise that I would."
And Harry nodded. He knew it was a lie, but he didn't feel like pushing it any farther, leaving it like that. And they sat in silence, Rosalie grateful to him for not saying anything else. And that was the end of it for a while. She rested her head on his shoulder, and let sleep take her, thinking it nice to have the company of someone next to her.
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"...he could smell it. My perfume."
Rosalie's eyes fluttered open as she felt someone shaking her awake, her eyes fluttered open to see an alarmed Harry looking at her. She looked around, confused, to see Hermione with an equally alarmed expression.
"We have to leave," Harry said, "We're not safe here."
"I told you. Ron's not strong enough to Apparate," Hermione disagreed.
"And not to mention, I can't Apparate on my own," Rosalie groggily said, and the two looked at her confused. She rolled her eyes, "I'm still sixteen, remember?"
Hermione let out a small 'oh' as Harry looked at them with a decisive look, "Then we'll by foot."
Then it was settled. The four of them got up, packed everything into that bag of Hermione's (besides the journal, Rosalie kept that close to her), and walked. They walked all through the night, through the day, and again. Harry led them, Hermione slightly behind him, and Rosalie stood beside Ron, liking the slow pace he went at.
There was silence between the four of them until, "I'm hungry." It came from Ron.
Everyone stopped as Harry asked, "What?" He couldn't think why his friend would say something like that at the time it was.
"I'm hungry," Ron repeated, not finding anything wrong with the statement, but Rosalie's stomach growled at the sound of the word and she couldn't help but think that Ronald Weasley was a fool.
"We're all hungry," Harry studied him, staring at him without even blinking.
Hermione goes to Ron, examining his ragged bandage, but the Weasley shrugged her off. "Leave it." She did. "Mum can make good appear out of thin air."
"No one can conjure food out of thin air. Food is the first of the five Principal Exceptions to Gamp's Law. The other four are –" Hermione started tenderly.
"Oh, speak English, can't you?" Ron snapped at her, but all Rosalie did was roll her eyes. Hermione tried again to examine his wound, and again, Ron snapped, "I said leave it."
"It's be dark soon. We need to find a place to sleep," Harry told them, trying to change the topic.
"Good plan," Hermione agreed and Rosalie nodded. Ron rolled his eyes.
"Yeah. Brilliant. Only, correct me if I'm wrong...wasn't that yesterday's plan? And the day before that? And the day before that? Walk. Sleep. Walk. Sleep."
"Well it's not like we can do anything else!" Rosalie snapped back at him, growing tired of his attitude. "We can't Apparate because you're still injured and Hermione doesn't want anyone to Apparate along someone else, so we're stuck to walking. Shut up and deal with it like the rest of us!"
They stared at her in shock, Ron the most since it was directed at him. Harry sighed, nodding at Ron's neck. "My turn," and he took the locket the wear.
Hermione and Harry set up camp again, neither of them wanting to be near their injured friend. Rosalie stayed with Ron, helping him all she could and reading the journal. She hadn't the chance to use the Lumos spell again since she could only read it during the day, and using a light spell would look suspicious in broad daylight. So, she settled with the unfinished entries, mentally noting which ones to turn back to.
And the day was over soon, they slept, and when they awoke again, they took the camp apart and continued walking. Ron was silent that day, so was everyone else. They never spoke anymore, only at camp in the darkness of the night did anyone dare mutter a word.
Rosalie usually stayed up with Harry when he was on watch. He didn't like to sleep because of the nightmares and neither did she. They were both plagued with something in their dreams, and Voldemort was connecting them. She felt the guilt bearing down on her as she continued to grow closer with Harry, slowly becoming friends when she knew what would happen in the end. But she enjoyed the time she had then.
When the war was over, when they won, and if her secret stayed a secret, she would go into hiding afterwards. Rosalie thought of where she would go, and America sounded nice. New York sounded nice, and she couldn't wait to start her life again, having a clean slate and somewhere in a place where no one knew her. She could tell them her Dark Mark was a tattoo she couldn't get rid of, she had lie, and she could have a new life; a better one.
But for that moment, in the time when she was still in England and the biggest battle of the war was still looming, she stayed with the trio, walking every day as soon as everyone was awake and only setting camp when the last light of the day was shining. And days later, they set up camp again and finally began talking about something important:
"Oh my god..." Hermione muttered. She had been at the table, flipping through A History of Magic when she said that.
"What?" Harry immediately responded, alarmed. Rosalie too, who had been reading the journal (though it was pointless) went straight to see what was going on with them.
"I'll tell you in a minute," Hermione dismissed, her eyes skimming the page again and again.
"Maybe you could tell me now," Harry strongly urged, it sounded like it could've been a suggestion, but they both knew it wasn't.
"Alright. The Sword of Gryffindor?" Hermione paused for dramatic effect, "It's Goblin made."
"Brilliant."
"You don't understand," Hermione rolled her eyes, "Dirt and rust have no effect on the blade. It only takes in that which makes it strong."
"Okay..."
"Harry. You already destroyed one Horcrux, right? Tom Riddle's diary – in the Chamber of Secrets."
"With a basilisk fang. If you tell me you've got one of those in that bloody beaded bag of yours –"
"Don't you see! In the Chamber of Secrets, you stabbed the basilisk with the Sword of Gryffindor," Hermione reminded him, "Its blade is impregnated with basilisk venom."
"It only takes in that which makes it stronger..." Harry repeated with new meaning.
"Exactly!" Hermione exclaimed with a smile, "Which means..."
"...it can destroy Horcruxes," Harry finished. He looked at Rosalie with a smile, and she could feel her own feelings being lifted at the new information.
"Which is why Dumbledore left it to you in his will," Hermione let out a small chuckle.
"You're brilliant, Hermione. Truly," Harry complimented her. The Granger blushed.
"Actually, I'm highly logical, which allows me to look past the extraneous detail and perceive clearly that which others overlook," Hermione tried to explain herself.
"There's only one problem..." Harry started, but then all the lights clicked off then on again. The three looked to see Ron there with the Deluminator, staring at them.
"Yeah, I'm still here. But you three carry on. Don't let me spoil your fun," Ron bitterly told them.
"What's the problem?" Harry asked.
"Problem?" Ron repeated, "There's no problem. Not according to you, anyway."
Harry shook his head, "Look, don't be shy. If you've got something to say, spit it out."
"All right, I'll spit it out. Don't expect me to skip up and down because now there's some other damn thing we've got to find."
"Ron..." Hermione quietly whined, not wanting him to continue. Rosalie saw them and reached, placing her hand on Hermione's in a comforting way.
"I thought you knew what you sighed up for," Harry said with equal anger at his friend.
"Yeah, I thought I did too," Ron glared at him with so much fury Rosalie knew it would to be fueled by the locket.
She looked to see Harry about to retaliate. "Harry," she let out, trying to stop what was going to happen next. It didn't work.
"I don't understand. What part of this isn't living up to your expectations? Did you think we'd be staying in five-star hotels? Finding a Horcrux every other day? Did you think you'd be back to mummy by Christmas?"
"No, I just reckoned after all this time, we'd have actually achieved something. I reckoned you knew what you were doing. I reckoned Dumbledore had told you something worthwhile! I reckoned you had a plan!"
"I've told you everything Dumbledore told me! And in case you haven't noticed, we've found a Horcrux!"
"Yeah, and we're about as near getting rid of it as we are to finding the rest of them, aren't we!"
"Take it off, Ron. Please take it off. You wouldn't be talking like this if you hadn't been wearing it all day –" Hermione pleaded with the ginger.
"Yeah, he would. D'you think I haven't noticed the two of you whispering behind my back? D'you think I haven't guessed what you were thinking?" Harry spat at them.
"Harry, we weren't –" Hermione tried.
"Don't lie! You said it too, you said you were disappointed –" Ron told her.
"I didn't! Not like that! Harry – I didn't!" Hermione cried, trying to get them to understand.
"Please, stop! Take it off, Ron, walk away, Harry! Please!" Now it was Rosalie pleading as well. The three were best friends, she didn't want to see it torn apart.
"Do you know why I listen to that radio, every night? Do you! TO make sure I don't hear Ginny's name or Fred or George or mum or –"
"You think I don't listen! You think I don't know what it's like –"
"No! You don't know what it's like! Your parents are dead! You have no family!" Ron yelled at him in complete anger.
There was dead silence after that. Harry glared at Ron, letting his words sink it, as did Rosalie. She didn't have any family either, she hadn't had one since she was young. Suddenly, they rushed forward, going for each other's throats before the girls stopped them.
"Stop! Stop!" Hermione screamed at him as they let go of each other, staring at each other.
"Go then. But leave that," Harry commanded him, pointing to the locket. Hermione's eyes flashed with panic, glancing between the both of them. Ron threw the locket to the ground before looking at Hermione.
"And you?" he asked.
"Me?"
"Are you staying? Or coming?" he asked and Hermione glanced between the two of them. She didn't walk towards Ron, and he knew what her answer was.
"Fine. I get it. I saw you two the other night. Yeah, that's right. Didn't know I knew, did you?" Ron spat, "And Rose, I don't need to ask you."
Rose. Why the nickname. She hated it. It meant friendship, and with friendship came betrayal. She had talked the most with Ron, he was the only one who cared to ask her how she was every day, and she asked him. He called her Rose, starting after Harry called her it, and she loved it. She loved the nickname. Now she hated it.
"What? Ron, no – please –" Hermione pleaded, but he left. Ron left, walking away as Hermione rushed to chase after him.
Rosalie looked at Harry, who looked at her as if asking for forgiveness, but she was not about to grant him that.
"Ron is your best friend! He was the one who stayed by your side for so long! Why did you yell at him? Why did you egg him on? He could still be here if it weren't for you," she screamed at you, taking out all her anger, "You don't let friends go, Harry, especially good ones. Dumbledore said you were one of the good ones, so prove it." And she walked back to the corner where she slept, the place where she could so clearly see where Ron once stayed.
She heard a sigh from Harry, and the opening of the tent after a while. She heard Hermione choking on her sob as she managed to let out, "He's gone."
And Rosalie turned away from where Ron used to stay, staring at the tent instead.
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