Fears: Part 3

Harry picked up Voldemort's wand and placed it in his back pocket, removing his own. "Wingardium Leviosa," Harry muttered, waving his wand at Peter's body.

Harry marched down the stairs, Wormtail's limp body floating in front of him.

The double doors downstairs were open, letting the warm summer blow through the old house. The full moon shone down on the little town below the Riddle House. A shiver rolled down Harry spine at the thought of Professor Lupin's transformation into a werewolf.

Harry walked sown the hill, pausing every so often to stop himself from falling down the steep hill. Every time Harry stopped, he'd lose concentration and forget about Peter, causing Peter to drop to the ground and begin to roll down the hill.

When he reached the road outside the Riddle home, Harry gently lowered Peter's body to the ground and stuck his wand out into the road. The Knight Bus immediately pulled up in front of him.

"'Arry! Nice to see you again!" Stan greeted him. "What are you doing here?"

"It's a long story," Harry said, not wanting to explain what had happened. "Could you take me to Hogwarts?"

"Sure, 'Arry, climb aboard," Stan said, moving to pick up Peter's body.

Harry stepped onto the bus. It was nearly empty, and horribly silent. He could hear snoring from one of the upper levels, but other than that, all could be heard were crickets chirping outside.

"What is this?" Stan yelled as he moved the body.

"The body of Peter Pettigrew," Harry said very calmly.

Stan looked absolutely horrified at Harry's statement, but quickly threw the body onto the bus. "But, he was destroyed seventeen years ago... All they could find of him was a finger."

"It's a long story," Harry told him. "Let's just put it this way, he really just died tonight."

Stan didn't ask any more questions after that. He seemed to be wondering how sane Harry was.

Harry lay down on the first bed he reached. His mind drifted to Hermione. He imagined her perfect face with sparkling teardrops falling from her big brown eyes.

Harry buried his face in the pillow and breathed in. He could slightly smell Hermione's shampoo in the pillow.

"Your girlfriend came on the bus looking for you earlier," Stan said. "She laid in that exact bed."

"I know," Harry muttered into the pillow.

Harry was grateful that the loud bus started up. He wasn't in the mood to talk to Stan. The loud engine of the bus rumbled several times before the bus sped forward. Harry could feel the bed roll around on the bus's floor.

He could feel warm tears slide from his eyes, into the soft cotton pillow.

Harry wasn't sure why he was crying. Something inside him, something about the thought that Hermione had laid in the same place earlier that day, had made him let out all of the feelings he was holding inside.

Or perhaps, just maybe, there was a bond between Hermione and him, as there had been between him and Voldemort.

Two souls with but a single thought,

Two hearts that beat as one.

-Von Münch-Bellinghausen (Ingomar the Barbarian)