In Her Embrace

Hello Old Friend

TW: explicit language, graphic content, violent scenes.

Two entire days—it had taken two whole fucking days to travel from London to Scotland. After a day of apparating as far as they could, Arla, Harry, Ron, and Hermione encountered trouble near Manchester. Ambushed by two Death Eaters in a narrow underpass by the train station, Arla swiftly probed their minds and discovered that Harry's magical trace had been detected. Consequently, they decided to complete their journey to the Scottish Highlands on foot, entering the wizarding world from there. Muggle transportation significantly slowed their progress, Arla had never experienced such a boring journey in her life!

By the time they crossed the border from the muggle world to the magical one, it was nightfall. Tensions were high, and everyone was exhausted. Traveling from one end of the country to the other was challenging enough, but having to stay hidden and restrict magic use made it infinitely worse. They set up camp on the edge of a rocky cliff, which offered a quick escape route, if they needed it. Arla and Hermione began erecting protective wards, while Harry and Ron ventured into the nearest forest to gather firewood before setting up camp for the evening. This division of labour had become their routine—Arla and Harry knew better than to send Ron and Hermione off on a task together, so they always split up and stuck to their respective roles on missions like these, and it worked — for the most part.

As the pair finished up the protective spells around their small camp, Arla noticed that Hermione's mind seemed elsewhere. Standing with her arms crossed, Hermione gazed over the cliff's edge, her unbound curls swaying in the evening breeze. "Spit it out, what's wrong?" Arla asked, coming to stand beside her, a faint smile tugging at her lips.

Hermione didn't look at her as she spoke. "We're behind schedule. We need to make up the time we lost, or we'll be summoned back before we even get inside Gringotts."

Arla patted her friend on the back. "Don't worry, we planned for this. Once we're set up, we can go over our other options."

Hermione offered her a weak smile, one that didn't quite reach her eyes. "They're all so risky—"

"Granger," Arla interrupted sternly, turning to face her with an arched eyebrow.

Hermione held her hands up in surrender. "I know, I know. I'm just stressed and tired."

"I know," Arla said, smiling. "We all are. We'll make a pros and cons list for the other routes and decide from there."

"Sounds like a plan," Hermione sighed, turning away from the cliff's edge.

"Making plans without us?" Harry's voice cut through the quiet. Both girls spun around to see him and Ron approaching with their arms full of firewood.

Arla shook her head with a grin. "Of course, our best ones always are." She joked, running over to help them.

.

Dinner was silent that evening, the only sounds being the clinking of metal utensils and the occasional crack of the small fire as the group ate their bread, cheese, and a modest array of cold meats. Hermione and Ron hadn't spoken a word to each other in the two days they had been traveling, and Arla and Harry found it difficult to keep conversations flowing. They all silently agreed that awkward silence was better.

As the moon shone brighter than the stars above them, what felt like an eternity had passed. Arla's mind was racing faster than she could manage, causing her head to ache. She needed to do something. Her knee bounced frantically as she absentmindedly stared into the dancing flames, chewing on her bottom lip as she fell deep into thought.

"Merlin's beard, Arla. Would you stop that?" Ron snapped, snarling at her.

Her head jerked up, and she blinked a few times before looking down at her knee. Colour flushed onto her cheeks. "Sorry..." she said sheepishly.