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— Finley lent down as she filled the bucket of water from the river by their campsite.

It was the morning after their little run in with the vile pet of Voldemort.

Finley hadn't slept a wink that night, nor had she really wanted to. She couldn't after what she experienced, what she saw.

Don't get her wrong, Finley has had her fair share of gory sights– enough to last a lifetime. More than a normal person would ever see.

But, as every other person with her throughout these endeavors, she was still just a teenager– a child.

And a child should never see what she saw.

Finley straightened her back as she carried the bucket back to the campsite.

Harry was in the tent, resting from the night before. Hermione was curled in a blanket, leaning against a tree as she read another one of those books of hers.

Finley set the bucket down, moving beside Hermione. The blonde opened an edge of the blanket. Finley scooted her butt closer to Hermione's, getting close as the two shared the blanket.

"I'm tired," Hermione spoke up.

"Me too, Mione." Finley kept her voice quiet.

"No, not like sleep-tired. I mean, I'm exhausted. Of everything."

Finley knew. She understood.

But, she kept silent. She didn't answer Hermione. And Hermione wasn't expecting an answer. She knew Finley had nothing to say. Because all the words couldn't describe how the teenagers felt.

The two read the book together. Finley had only a fourth of the understanding for the book, but she read along anyway just for the sake of it.

What caught their attention moments later were the sounds of sighs as a certain blind boy exited the tent for the first time this morning.

Harry woke up confused. Finley wasn't with him when he opened his eyes, which startled him.

Startled him enough to barely throw on an over shirt as he exited the tent.

His breath evened whenever he was the fiery hair sitting against the tree only feet away from the tent.

He directed his attention away from her to take in his surroundings. The woods he was placed in was beautiful. The white and the brown mixed together like a painting.

Harry made his way to the girls slowly, panting quietly. It was cold. He couldn't understand how the girls were out here, sitting on the icy ground.

He fiddled with the buttons of his flannel as he put the shirt together.

"Wow," Harry gasped. He really loved the scenery. It was a view he could get used to waking up to.

"Are you feeling better?" Hermione was the first person to speak up to him.

Finley's head rested on Hermione's shoulder, her eyes closed as she rested gently.

Harry didn't answer the question that was directed towards him. He changed the topic. "Is she asleep?"

Finley opened her eyes in a snap, turning her head to look up at him. "Rise and shine, sleepyhead."

Harry grinned warmly at her before turning to Hermione. "You've outdone yourself this time, Hermione."

"The Forest of Dean," Hermione informed. "I came here once with Mum and Dad, years ago."

Harry sat down against the tree across from the girls. He shivered as his butt touched the ground. Finley watched his movements carefully.

She took one last glance at Hermione before adjusting herself to be curled into Harry's side.

He took her presence with open arms, literally.

Harry accepted the warmth, clutching her tight to him. He could feel how cold her skin was. How long had she been out here?

"It's just how I remember it," Hermione continued. She didn't mind the absence of Finley. She understood the girl wanted to be beside her significant other. To be in his arms. She so deeply craved it as well. "The trees, the river... everything. Like nothing's changed. Not true, of course. Everything's changed. If I brought my parents back here now, they probably wouldn't recognize any of it. Not the trees... not the river... not even me."

Finley regretted her decision to move now. Instead, to make up for it, Finley sent waves of comfort towards Hermione's mind. It's the least she could do.

"Maybe we should just stay here. Grow old. I'd watch you two get married, and have children of your own." Hermione chuckled.

Finley would have smiled, if it weren't for the words before it.

Harry turned his head away. Instead, he leaned his head down to rest the bottom of his chin to rest against the side of Finley's head.

"You wanted to know who the boy in the photograph was," Hermione continued as if she hasn't spoken at all before. "I know. Gellert Grindelwald."

Hermione closed her book, handing it over to Harry. He flipped through the pages of the marked section.

"He's the thief I saw in Gregorovitch's wand shop," Harry informed.

"I knew I recognized him from somewhere," Finley muttered to herself, even though the others could clearly hear her.

"Speaking of wands, where is my wand?" Harry aimed the question at Hermione. He saw Finley hand it to her at Bagshot's house.

Hermione's face fell.

"Where's my wand, Hermione?"

Hermione grunts lowly. Slowly, she moves her blanket to the side to display the snapped wand.

"As we were leaving Godric's Hollow, I casted a curse and it rebounded." At the sight, Harry's heart dropped to his stomach. "I'm sorry. I tried to mend it, but wands are different. I could get Finley to try-"

"No, don't make her. It's done. Leave me yours. Go inside and get warm." Harry stood up, pulling Finley along with him. She eyed him carefully, no idea on how to react. "I'll take the locket as well."

Finley snapped her head to Harry. She was the one who had it around her neck.

"No, it's still my turn." She protested.

"Hand it over, Fin." He held his hand out expectantly.

"She's right, Harry. We take even turns. It's how we are going to survive this together." Hermione spoke up, defending Finley.

"Finley," he warned in a low voice, hand still out.

She shook her head stubbornly, walking away with as much attitude she can force into her hips.

She could hear him sigh behind her.


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- J.S.

S

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