Who: Hermione, Ron, Harry When: Saturday, while the rest of the students are at Hogsmeade Where: Godric's Hollow What: Retrieving the first horcrux. Rating: T.B.A. Likely Pg-13 for Open/Closed: Closed
Harry kept wanting to reach up and touch his hair, or the bridge of his nose, where his glasses didn't rest. The bloke whose body he was wearing hadn't worn glasses, and his hair was all gray and coarse feeling beneath Harry's fingers. He kept getting startled by how clearly he saw, or the darker tint of his skin. (He was Indian, apparently.) And very short and a little pudgy. But really - Harry wasn't complaining. He'd definitely gotten the better end of the deal. What with Hermione and Ron's little mix up.
Harry looked over at them and hid another laugh behind his hand and a badly feigned cough. They'd apparated out of Hogsmeade, and Harry had the cloak with him, just in case - but for the moment they weren't exactly recognizable anyway. He was. . . uneasy about coming to Godric's Hollow to poke around the graveyard his parents were buried at. The repeated urge to laugh at his friends' misfortune was really a bit of a welcome diversion.
The clothes Hermione had socked away for this - she bloody thought of everything - were itchy and a little too long in the sleeves and trousers, but they fit well enough. Harry rolled his sleeve up again, shifting the flowers he held in his arms - transfigured from a stick they'd found, and looking a little. . . wooden, still. "All right, so we'll just. . . walk in and look for the mausoleum Fletcher mentioned, then pop out, yeah?" He'd just figured if they were going to a graveyard, bringing flowers for a grave made them look. . . more natural.