Harry Potter and the Lake District Incident
1/ Of course none of this is mine, yada, yada, yada….
2/OK, let me set this up – hopefully things will be made clear as you go but I will go ahead and put things into context for you. I know several people you have lots of trouble jumping into the middle of a story! And so, here we go – I see this piece set late in the seventh year as the final battle draws near and the hunt for the Horcruxs is drawing to a close.
Ron is in St. Mungo after a particularly nasty encounter with a Death Eater or two. Harry and Hermione are holed up in a Muggle Inn preparing to seek out the next to the last Horcrux.
It was one of those summer days in the lake district that would easily pass for winter in many places. It was gray and damp; altogether dreary with periods of cold rain that came and went with no particular regularity. The weather was a perfect compliment to Hermione's mood. She rolled her head around her shoulders in an attempt to ease the growing tension in her neck as she gazed out the window.
When they checked in the muggle inn earlier in the day, the clerk had commented that she should smile more – after all, her 'young man' was treating her to a holiday no matter the weather. 'As if'' she mused. The 'young man' in question was first and foremost not hers and secondly, he wasn't treating her to anything. She bloody-well had to threaten him with bodily harm before he consented to bring her on this little 'holiday'. In truth, the only reason he had relented was the fear of what she might do had she been left to her own devices.
Her thoughts wandered from the book in front of her to the errand before them – finding the next to the last Horcrux. They had devoted months to tracking down its location. In one case, someone had given her life --- just to find the damnable object.
It was a bit of a let down actually. After all this time, the sacrifices – and, and --- well, nothing. They were in this tiny little resort village where the Riddles had kept a summer place once – years ago now. Harry was relatively certain the Horcrux was in a cave on the property. It better be, Ron was in St. Mungo's because of the damned diary the contained the clue and Ginny ... poor Ginny, she was simply gone.
By Merlin, she hoped Remus and Tonks were fairing better on their search.
A gust of wind roused her from her thoughts once more and she looked at the clock. Harry would be back soon. He'd gone to pick up some muggle flashlights. They had learned the hard way that He had somehow protected many of his hiding places with dampening spells that made magic go haywire. You couldn't depend on the most basic of spells.
She sighed and thought about the subject she had yet to approach with Harry. She had researched this cave until she thought she would scream. She had screamed on several occasions. She had to be the foremost expert on the little hole in the ground. She had convinced herself that knowledge could keep them safe, it had to --- that was all they had --- that and each other. And it was to this end, that she needed to talk to Harry.
The clerk at Algood's Sundries cursed the fact that she hadn't washed her hair that morning when the cutie walked in – all tall (but not too tall) and dark (but not too dark) and handsome (well, in that department he was just right.). He needed a good haircut but he was still a sight.
"Ah, sir? Can I be helping you with something today? An umbrella, maybe?"
He flashed her a quick smile as he brushed back his shaggy, wet bangs from his forehead. "No but thanks" Mr. Cutie replied.
"That's a wicked cool tatt' you've got" she exclaimed, looking at the sharply defined, black lightning bolt on his forehead.
"Me, I've got some Chinese writin'on me bum,- real elegant it is. Ya' wanta see?"
The Cutie's smile immediately fades before her proposition out of her mouth.