Hi, this is my newest Story, it was inspired by SubMcNeill's story 'Unintended Consequeces'. So the beginning is a bit similar, it will get different with the upcoming chapters. She gave me permission to use her idea as the starting point for this story and if you didnt read her story yet, you should do so, it's great!
As always I don't own Harry Potter and I want you to see this as a revolving disclaimer as I don't want to write it every chapter. (Lazy Author Priviledge)
I have also updated two of my other stories. Happy reading.
Harry sat in the tent, shocked that his supposed two best friends would do something like this to him. Things hadn't gone well for them since they had to abandon Grimmauld Place and do the horcrux hunt while camping. And he had known that the two were talking behind his back for a while. They had talked about how he didn't have any plan for the search. They had thought he had more information that he just didn't reveal to them. But he had been completely honest with them. He had told them everything he knew. Why wouldn't he?
After each session with Dumbledore he had told them what he had been shown in the pensieve. He only knew a few more details, like how the people had looked like and what was in the surroundings. He could put pictures to the known horcruxes, but that was all he had of an advantage on them. He had tried to accurately describe the horcruxes to Ron and Hermione. He had told them about the locations Dumbledore had shown him, which had been important steps in Voldemort's life.
The horcrux had made things a lot worse. It made anybody wearing it aggressive and turned existing negative emotions stronger. Ten minutes ago Ron had started a fight about Harry's lack of proper leadership. Hermione had tried to stop him but it had escalated as Harry was sick of just taking Ron's behaviour anymore. He had always been the one to forgive Ron his jealousy or his insecurities. In third year he had stayed the mediator between Ron and Hermione over the Scabbers and Crookshanks episode. In fourth year, he hadn't given Ron a hard time for calling him a cheat and not believing him. In sixth year he had behaved pretty moderate even if he thought Ron shouldn't have treated Hermione like he did. He even hadn't retaliated when Ron had interrupted him and Ginny when Ginny had kissed him on his birthday. But enough was enough. He also had a limit what he could take. Everybody always expected him to be the hero. But he was a normal boy who had been dealt a shitty hand in life by fate. Nobody wanted to see that he lost his parents to become famous. Nobody could understand what he felt for being more or less imprisoned at his relatives all those years.
All for the sake of safety. His friends hadn't thought about what he went through after the death of Cedric. Even if they couldn't write about the things that happened, their letters were so useless. Only platitudes for his feelings. He had felt so guilty for Cedric's death, but had anybody been there for him? No, the Order only thought to guard him. He would have needed somebody to talk to, a friendly face against the Dursleys' sneering and glaring. Why couldn't they have at least had some of his friends visit for a few hours? It wouldn't have been that hard. He knew Remus had been busy trying to get the werewolves on the Order's side, but smuggling Sirius in under an invisibility cloak to only take it off in his room would have been possible. And Hermione was muggleborn. She could have taken the bus and met him at the playground while the Order kept watch. If they had wanted to it would have been possible.
The only one who could understand him had been Sirius, but he was dead. He had died to protect Harry when he had fallen for Voldemort's trap in the Department of Mysteries. Even the wise man Dumbledore had failed him horribly. How the hell was he supposed to find the horcruxes with as little information as he had been given? Why didn't Dumbledore prepare him better for the task he had to fulfil? After Voldemort came back he should have learned advanced magic to better protect himself. He should have learned how to get around protections. If the horcruxes were in places like the cave with the inferi he would be lost.
But instead Dumbledore had distanced himself from Harry without giving Harry a reason. He would have understood that he didn't want to give Voldemort the chance to access his thoughts. Just a note would have been enough. No need for contact. But of course that fact had also been kept secret. He had been left to think he had been the one to attack Mr Weasley. It had been Ginny who made him realize that it couldn't have been him and that he couldn't have been possessed. None of the adults thought what it could mean for Harry. No, their idea to protect him was to keep him in the dark. As if that ever did any good. His lack of information about what was happening had caused Sirius' death.
If he had only known that Voldemort would try to lure him to the Department of Mysteries, he would have been able to spot the trap. But no, informing Harry was the last thing anybody saw fit to do. Then the lack of active training. How should he oppose Voldemort without knowing how to do it? He had decades of experience on Harry. But all the Order members only blindly followed what Professor Dumbledore had said. He felt betrayed by them all. Especially in his sixth year he could have got more training. By then it should have been obvious that Harry learned best by doing. Getting one of the Order members to practice duelling with him once a week in the Room of Requirement wouldn't have tipped off anybody. Somebody like Kingsley could have shown him some spells that would come in useful. He only met with Dumbledore irregularly as the man had been searching for the horcruxes himself. That was understandable and important. But hell, there were other qualified fighters in the Order.
And now even both of his friends had gone. They had promised to help him find and destroy the horcruxes. He had trusted them. But Ron had stormed out of the tent and Hermione had followed him, trying to bring him back. None of the two had returned yet. Harry's thoughts were racing and none of them in good ways.
Hermione and Ron landed in a heap with Ron looking really surprised at his passenger.
"What are you doing here, Hermione? You could have gotten us splinched." He shouted.
"I'm sorry, Ron, I just wanted to stop you from leaving. I need you. Harry needs you. Please come back. This is all a big misunderstanding." She pleaded.
Before Ron could answer her both of them were hit with a stunner and their world went black. When they awoke again, they found themselves disarmed and under scrutiny of group of violent looking wizards.
"What do we have here? They seem to be Hogwarts age." One man said.
"Aye, they do. What are your names?" He asked sneering holding a piece of parchment in his hands.
"Andromeda Prewett and that is my cousin Franklin. We finished Hogwarts last year." Hermione quickly invented.
"Hm, they are not on the list, they aren't missing students. What's your blood status?"
"I'm halfblood and he is pureblood." Hermione answered trembling.
"So we're unlucky. No little mudblood to cash in. And no students going against the rule. Well, we'll just leave them a little present to remember who is in power now." The first man said, hitting Ron in the stomach.
"Frank!" Hermione called out, but she couldn't get to Ron because the man, who held her, slapped her face.
"Know your place, halfblood. While you're not as low as a mudblood your blood is not good enough to go against a pureblood wizard like me." He growled.
Meanwhile the other one finally stopped hitting Ron and signalled to his crony to let Hermione go. They threw their wands next to them and disapparated. Hermione was crying and crawled over to Ron.
"Ron, are you okay, did they hurt you badly?" She asked concerned.
"I'll live. But he did hit hard. Do you have any pain relieving potion in your bag?" He asked.
"Yes, wait a moment." She said, summoning the potion out of her bag.
She handed it to Ron who quickly swallowed it.
"That was a close one." Ron said after the potion took effect.
"Yes, I didn't know those snatchers Dean's group talked about were that bad. I'm just glad they were so stupid. They didn't make us prove our identities." Hermione said worried.
"Yeah. If they had been smarter they would know that the only living Prewetts are Aunt Muriel and Mum. But since she married Dad she has been a Weasley. All of Mum's other relatives were killed in the first war or died of old age." He confirmed.
"I didn't know that. It just was the first name of a pureblood family I could think of that wouldn't raise suspicion." She said shocked.
"What are we going to do now? I can't return to the tent, I'd just get into another fight with Harry. While most was the horcrux I need some time to deal with my feelings about his lack of a plan." Ron admitted.
"We could apparate to my grandmum's old home. It's empty as she died three years ago and no new tenants could be found. It won't be enough for a long time, but it would suffice for one night. We could treat our injuries and return to Harry tomorrow morning."
"Okay we'll do that, Hermione. Harry will understand that it was better for us to have some room from each other for one night."
With that Hermione took Ron per side-along apparition to her grandmother's house. She let them both inside and managed to get the things for some sandwiches in town half an hour later. They ate them and then went to bed. Due to their exhaustion they only awoke at ten in the morning and decided to get more supplies before returning to the tent.
After an hour of searching at their previous location they realized horrified that they had been too late. Harry and the tent were gone and none of them had any idea where Harry could be right now.
After two hours of sitting in the tent waiting, hoping Ron and Hermione would return, Harry walked out of the tent looking around cautiously. The group they had eavesdropped on, which had talked about the sword of Gryffindor being nearly stolen and that the sword in Bellatrix vault was a fake wasn't seen or heard. He hoped they weren't near him anymore. He had gotten an idea how to at least get some fish to eat. The whole conflict had been blown out of proportion because Ron had been hungry and complained about an empty stomach. And he really needed something to eat right now. Hermione in her haste had taken away all the things she had inn her bottomless bag, including all their supplies.
Just another stroke to his mission. Why should things be easy for him? If you could call camping in the wild with little to no food and no progress in the mission easy. They never were after all. He just had the things he never let leave his body like his invisibility cloak, the marauder's map, the mokeskin pouch - filled with the snitch, the shard of the mirror from Sirius and a few coins - which Hagrid had given him for his birthday and the clothes on his body, which were just now getting soaked while he walked around trying to determine if there was anybody close by. He also hoped that Ron and Hermione would come back after Ron had calmed down a bit.
"Accio salmon." Harry whispered and collected the three fish that had come out of the river.
At least now he wouldn't be hungry anymore. With routine from many years of cooking for the Dursleys he gutted the fish and threw the inners into the river for them to be carried away. He cleaned the spot where he had gutted the fish with a quick scourgify. He could understand that Tonks had problems getting the grip on household charms. They could be tricky. While he prepared the fish in the kitchen part of the tent, he pondered about this whole operation.
If this was how his friends behaved over an argument, could he really trust them to follow him until the end? Even if they came back? It was obvious that Ron had never really thought how they would have to do the mission. He had relied on Harry and Hermione having a plan. In the end mainly on Harry knowing exactly where they would find the horcruxes and how to destroy them. But Harry didn't know where they were. How should he? Even Dumbledore hadn't known where to find them. Harry only had some clues about what they were. Even finding out how to destroy them had been up to them. Thankfully Hermione had summoned those books. But it was another example about Dumbledore keeping too many fucking secrets. Shouldn't something like that be one of the first things he told Harry? Perhaps he hadn't expected to die before he could tell Harry everything, but in times of war you should always make sure others could continue.
He sat down and ate the salmon he had fried. His stomach was very grateful for being filled again. Well, of all of them Harry had the most experience with staying hungry. Thanks to his neglectful relatives.
Okay, enough mental complaining for now, he needed a plan. And he needed a warm shower. He was freezing. He quickly got out of his wet clothes and went to the small bathroom to get at least dry.
While cleaning his body using a bit of hot water he had prepared in the kitchen before, he thought what he could do next. He didn't even have a change of clean clothes as Hermione had those in her bag. Well, he could probably transfigure something to keep him warm until his clothes had dried. Damn that he couldn't do a proper drying charm. He should have learned it after he had realized his shortcoming in the cave with Dumbledore, but he didn't. He also needed more supplies. Where could he get them without getting caught? After all, the polyjuice potion was in the bag too.
Harry took one of the pillow cases from Ron's cot and enlarged it with an engorgio charm. Then he tried his best to transform it into something resembling normal clothes. He got it that far that he had a jumper and pants. They didn't truly fit him, but they kept him warm enough and he was used to clothes too big for him.
That was an idea. He had left many of his things at Privet Drive. He knew from Remus that after he had left the house the Death Eaters had searched everything for any clues where he could be. But they hadn't found anything and left after destroying some of the furniture.
The Order had already repaired the damage. He could at least regroup there and plan for the next part of his search. He knew Aunt Petunia always had non-perishable food stored in the house because Uncle Vernon and Dudley needed a lot to eat as she thought. Even after starting Dudley's diet they had always had stored a lot of food in the basement. And they didn't take it with them. After all, Uncle Vernon had changed his mind every day, so Aunt Petunia had bought all she needed for the large appetite of her husband.
With each passing hour Harry got more depressed. It became more and more secure to say his friends had abandoned him. Otherwise they would have already come back. Just what did he do to deserve this? He finally cracked and cried into his pillow. He didn't deserve being abandoned when he needed his friends the most. He didn't deserve to be the only one trying to destroy Voldemort. He was seventeen; Voldemort was seventy with way more experience than him. He had the whole Ministry power at his back and call and he (Harry) was wanted by the whole country. He couldn't simply go into a shop somewhere to get things he could use in his quest.
Sometime around two in the morning Harry managed to fall asleep.
The next morning Harry went out of the tent again looking for any sign of Ron and Hermione. When it was noon and there still had been no sign of them, he decided to move locations. He packed up the tent and his few things. He needed to find a way to easier transport the tent now that he didn't have Hermione's bag anymore and disapparated from the spot he had been.
He apparated in the backyard of #4 Privet Drive. He quickly checked the house for any traps but he didn't find any. Obviously the Death Eaters had given up on monitoring the house. After all, with him declaring he wouldn't regard this place his home anymore, the wards had fallen and Snape for sure had reported about the animosities between Harry and his relatives just to revel in Harry's despair. Harry soon found the hidden key he had left in a secret spot in the garden years ago when Dudley had found it funny to lock Harry out of the house regularly. He had gotten in lots of trouble when he wasn't inside when his aunt and uncle had considered it prudent.
He unlocked the back door with a little difficulty, after all the key had been exposed to the weather for some time now. Then he slipped inside and locked the backdoor again. He tried turning on the lights but the electricity had been cut. Well, it made sense. Without anybody living in the house for some time he couldn't see his uncle paying the bills. Thankfully the water was still running and for some reason that Harry had never really understood but was really grateful for now, Aunt Petunia had gotten a gas stove.
Perhaps it was because all those famous TV cooks had gas stoves. It had been her Christmas present when he had been at his sixth year at Hogwarts. And the gas still worked so he could cook some meals until he found a better suited location. He quickly went to the basement, the stairs lightened by the light on the tip of his wand, to see what kind of food was still in the house. He wanted to cry for joy when he saw some convenience products he could easily cook together with some flour, sugar, noodles, tinned fruits, tinned soup, tinned vegetables and even two glasses of jam he had been forced to make just a few weeks before he left because it was fashionable to have homemade jam for breakfast.
Of course Aunt Petunia had told her gossip friends that she had been the one to make it. Harry took a pre-made pack of macaroni with cheese and took it upstairs with him. He heated some water for his food and made himself a cup of tea while waiting for his food to cook. While he ate he pondered about his mission. If he was honest with himself, he hadn't been properly prepared.
There were two reasons for this. Dumbledore not telling him earlier about the horcruxes and him mostly only putting real effort into Defence against the Dark Arts at school. He hadn't put all his energy into Transfiguration or Charms like he should have done. At least after Voldemort came back.
In his defence, his fifth year he had been more concerned with the bitch Umbridge and her reign of terror, and getting the DA prepared to defend themselves; in sixth year he had thought Dumbledore would help him prepare for what he would have to do. But the only thing he got was bits of information; important information, but nonetheless he had been left on his own most of the time. With all the workload of writing essays and his concerns regarding Malfoy, completely right as he knew now, which nobody had taken serious at the time; he had neglected other areas of magic he would need to know besides Defence. Harry needed to put the search on hold for a while to get ready for continuing the search. While the house was without electricity and therefore cold, he had supplies here which he could use. And he could put on clothes against the cold and he had blankets. He had enough food to last him for three weeks easily. He was used to eat simple. He would get through.
The basement was perfect as there were no windows through which the nosy neighbours could see him training magic. The underage restriction law had been another problem as he hadn't been able to train during the summers, that and the Dursleys would never have allowed it. That made Dumbledore's decisions regarding his housing even more annoying. He just had had to stay here for two weeks after his fifth year before he was relocated to the Burrow. So there hadn't been any need to keep him here for all that time, more, Dumbledore could have told him about the loopholes in the trace so he could have trained while being at Grimmauld Place. He could have been learning. While using a wand would have been impossible most of the time because of Mrs Weasley and her opinion of underage laws he could have gotten tutored on subjects that didn't require one, like bettering his abysmal Potions abilities.
And Sirius would have loved to help him getting ready. After all he had been imprisoned at the house he had hated for his past memories. And teaching Harry would have made him feel like he was helping in the war. Harry could really understand him. Being back at Privet Drive had not been his first choice, but he knew his way around and he had left his school things here. He hoped they were still in his old room.
Deciding that he needed to know he climbed up the stairs and went into his old room. Obviously everything was still there and undamaged. It seemed the Death Eaters hadn't been interested in old spellbooks that were left behind. But now Harry would make good use of them. He would learn all those practical charms and spells that would make his life easier on the run from the Ministry. He had to be self-sufficient. While he could blend into the muggle world, he doubted that any horcruxes were hidden where muggles lived. Voldemort hated muggles with all his being.
So Hermione's idea that he could have hidden one at his old orphanage was not plausible. He still thought Hogwarts was the most probable location. He would look into it later. He needed to think about other probable locations. But for now he would start relearning his books and get his skills up to the level they should have been already. He wouldn't repeat his mistake of relying on others. His best friends had abandoned him. He really felt lonely and he would need time to cope but he would pull through. He didn't want to live in a world that Voldemort ruled.
He also needed to find out what his relatives had left at the house and what he would need for his task. He didn't feel anything wrong with taking all that was useful and left. After all, they had made him work like a house elf all his life, so some repayment was only legitimate. They probably wouldn't even notice. He went through all the rooms and came up victorious. In Dudley's room he found an envelope with fifty pounds in ten pound notes. It had fallen behind the bed, but nothing a summoning charm couldn't get hold of. Dudley had probably forgotten it was there; otherwise he wouldn't have left a sum like that behind. In Vernon and Petunia's bedroom he got another fifty seven pounds. Twenty pounds in coins. Even Aunt Petunia with her cleanliness obsession didn't find them all. Some notes had come from Uncle Vernon's jackets he wore at work. The last money he got from the living room. Obviously Petunia had a nice little stock of money hidden herself. In the horrible flower vase that nobody was allowed to touch, it had been a present from her godmother, there were three hundred pounds. With four hundred pounds Harry's prospects looked much better. He had dreaded camping in the wild again with no food while it was snowing outside. Now he had the options of getting at least proper food. Four hundred pounds would help him get food for about five months if he rationed it.
Harry woke up with a headache and a sore throat. Great, right now a cold was something he really didn't need. And medicine was something the Dursleys would have taken with them. He forced himself out of the bed shivering when the cold air hit his body as he got out from under the sheets. He traipsed to the cupboard where Aunt Petunia kept the medicine but he was disappointed to only find pills against stomach ache that had expired one year ago. Now he had a problem. All the Potions they had carried with them were with Hermione. He didn't have anything and he didn't know how to brew the potion himself. Even if he did, he didn't have the ingredients.
Harry went to the kitchen to at least make some tea and sandwiches before he went back to bed. He had begun shaking during the time the water heated up. He just hoped one day of rest would take care of his cold.
After sleeping some hours Harry was sure his cold wouldn't go away with bed rest alone. What could he do? He needed help but who would help? Who could he call without endangering himself and his helper? He only knew one option. It was a bit risky but if he remembered right, he would be able to find him without problem.
"Kreacher." Harry called weakly.
The pop he heard following his call was music in Harry's ears.
"Master Harry?" Kreacher asked looking around.
Then the elf saw his master lying in his bed, clearly suffering a fever.
"Master Harry, what happened?" He asked.
"Hello, Kreacher. I'm really glad to see you. Did you get away from Grimmauld Place without injuries? I was so worried they would hurt you when that one Death Eater followed us there." Harry said and began coughing heavily.
"Don't talk, Master Harry. Kreacher is getting away alright. Evil men never got him. Kreacher has been staying at Hogwarts since then, having an eye on Master's girl Weezy." Kreacher said.
Harry looked at Kreacher hoping for more information. Obviously his house elf understood.
"Hogwarts is very different now. Dark place. Greasy git headmaster lets other Death Eaters punish students as they like. Many are suffering from evil curse that hurts. But redhead Miss and other friends of Master Harry are doing things to rebel against them. House elves are very unhappy there. They want to help students but are forbidden to do so. Evil teachers have stopped dinner for three houses. Only Slytherins get food."
"That's horrible; they use the cruciatus on students?" Harry asked only to start coughing again.
He needed to get better first.
"Kreacher, I need some potions to get rid of this cold." He croaked.
"Kreacher will get them for Master Harry. Should Kreacher get them in Apothecary or from Potions Master at Hogwarts?" He asked.
"How would you be able to buy them at a store? I'm a wanted criminal in the eyes of the Ministry." Harry asked hoarsely.
"Kreacher is house elf and can get money from Master Harry's vaults of course." Kreacher told Harry as if that was the most normal thing in the world.
Perhaps it was in the wizarding world. He didn't know that much about the world after all.
"I think Hogwarts will be better for now, but I also want you to get me thousand galleons from my vault. Can you also get muggle money for me there?"
"Yes, of course."
"Then I also want five thousand pounds. When I get better you'll have to tell me more about some things all wizarding children learn while growing up, Kreacher. I can't afford to be ignorant anymore. My life depends on blending in."
Kreacher bowed and disapparated.
Harry closed his eyes and nearly fell asleep when Kreacher returned with some vials of potion.
"Master Harry must take his potion and then he has to sleep. Kreacher will clean Master Harry's clothes for him."
"Can you also adjust them for me?" Harry asked before swallowing the potion.
"Of course Kreacher will do so."
Harry nodded gratefully before feeling sleep overcoming him.
When Harry awoke next time he felt a lot better. But he knew from previous experience that he needed two more doses to get fully rid of his cold. So he looked at the alarm clock he had repaired years ago and saw that he had slept seven hours. No wonder he felt rested. He took the potion from his night stand and drank it. He had to go to the bathroom. After taking care of his full bladder he went back to his bed. He saw Kreacher was already there with a cup of soup for him.
"Good evening, Master Harry. Kreacher made chicken soup for you to get better soon." The elf said.
"Thank you, Kreacher, I'd really like some." Harry answered, getting back under his blanket, noticing that Kreacher had put some hot-water bottles into his bed.
Having a house elf to care for you when you were ill was great. Harry took the soup and enjoyed the flavour. Somehow he doubted Kreacher had taken the supplies from the basement.
"Okay, Kreacher, I'd like to learn more about how children are raised in different magical families. Not the styles but what kind of things they learn, especially in the old pureblood families. As I was raised by muggles who hated me, I didn't even learn all I could about the muggle world."
Kreacher looked disgusted at the thought that the disgusting muggles didn't even have the decency to teach his Master about at least the muggle world. And it was like a crime to leave the descendant of one of the old pureblood houses that ignorant. Even if his mistress thought the Potters were not taking the purity of blood serious enough. But James Potter had been the son of Dorea Black, so he was family.
"Kreacher will gladly tell Master Harry what proper pureblood Lord has to know. Master Harry is heir to Potter family; old and noble blood. Not as noble and old as Black family but they are the only one close. And Master Harry's grandmother was a Black, so he has that blood too. All wizard children learn etiquette from young age. Parents make sure child knows how to behave to not shame the family. Child has to hold himself proudly and confident. Being pureblood is an honour and a privilege. When children are six they learn to write with a quill and learn calculating. They learn about basic potion ingredients, the most important wizards of the society, if the family has greenhouses they are taught which plants work for potions.
"Normally no pureblood family has children do work with plants themselves. Either they have Herbology Masters doing it or house elves look after greenhouses. Children also learn about the theory of basic spells and Astronomy. It was very important in Black family. All male children were named after stars. Of course they were taught how to fly and learn about family business. Black family was mostly investing and gaining interest from companies. All children are told tales of "Beedle" for bedtime story."
"You mean Beedle the Bard?" Harry asked.
"Yes, that the stories. When children are ten, the parents prepare them more for Hogwarts. Some get wands early on and let them practice easy spells to have an advantage when they start at school. All old families keep wands of dead family members to have wands to teach children before they can buy their first wands at eleven. All families make sure that children know how to behave while brewing to prevent injuries."
"That explains why Malfoy and the other Slytherins had such an easy time in first year in Snape's class. They had learned how to do things before Hogwarts." Harry realized.
"Yes, Master Draco always was good at Potions. Mistress always told Kreacher how greasy git headmaster gave him presents to learn with. Greasy git headmaster is Master Draco's godfather." Kreacher explained.
While Harry didn't really like Kreacher calling Draco Master, he knew that because of him being of Black descent Kreacher listened to him somewhat as he was a member of the Black family. Thankfully the elf was now loyal to him. And he liked him calling Snape greasy git headmaster.
Harry had finished his soup and put the cup on his bedside table.
"The soup was great, thanks, Kreacher."
"Kreacher is glad Master Harry liked it. Kreacher will go and clean a bit." The elf said, leaving Harry alone again.
Harry decided now was a good time to study and he summoned his textbooks for transfiguration to him, summoned a notebook and a pen and began listing the spells he found useful and probably would need. He started with the first year text and worked his way up to the sixth year texts.
Ron and Hermione sat back in the house of Hermione's grandmother and were thinking hard what they would do now.
"Where could he have gone? He must have known we would come back." Hermione fretted.
"I don't know. Why did he leave? He even took the tent with all the things in it with him, the git." Ron complained.
"Huh? He doesn't have anything except the horcrux, the things he always has on his body like his invisibility cloak and the pouch he got from Hagrid and what was in the tent, which isn't much except for cooking utensils and some towels in the bathroom. Everything else is in my bag" Hermione stated.
"Oh no, don't tell me we left him there with nothing." Ron pleaded.
"I fear we did. Perhaps that was the reason he left. He thought we had abandoned him and that he had to continue alone." Hermione was crying now. "What have we done, Ron? How could we have left him alone? We promised to help him find the horcruxes. And we broke our promise."
Ron while feeling bad didn't like how agitated she was about Harry. It was always about Harry.
"He will get by. We'll try to find him. He should have known that we would come back. And it wasn't our fault that we had to recover from that snatcher attack." Ron argued.
"How can you be so unconcerned? He is our best friend. How would you feel if it was Ginny or Fred and George who were alone out there?" She asked.
"What do they have to do with it? They are my siblings; of course I'd be really worried about them." Ron didn't understand what she wanted to tell him.
"But Harry is for me like Ginny, Fred and George are for you. He is like the brother I never had. My little brother whom I have to look out for. And I failed him. I left him without supplies in the rainy night, thinking I abandoned him." She cried more.
Ron felt strangely relieved. She only thought of Harry as a brother. He had to calm her down.
"I'm sorry, Hermione; I didn't know you felt like that for him. I'd also worry about my siblings. I wish we could turn back time to make it right. We can only try to find out where he is. Where would he have gone?"
"I don't know, perhaps he was being stupid and went to Godric's Hollow. He wanted to go there for months. Perhaps even Hogwarts. But I don't think so; he wouldn't be able to get into the castle. Even he wouldn't risk it. But he would also need new supplies. I don't know where he would go. He knows Grimmauld Place is not an option after we led the Death Eater there. But with the tent he could just camp somewhere near a village and try to steal the most necessary things. He wouldn't have a choice as I've the money."
"I think we should start with Godric's Hollow. Then we work on other places. We'll find him and apologize. We'll make it right." Ron assured her.
Hermione nodded and both apparated away to Godric's Hollow.
And cut. This was Chapter Number One. Please tell me what you think. Until next time.