When they near the camp, Louis picks up as many rocks as he can, stuffing them into his pocket in case they run into trouble. Harry readies his bow.
Harry moves through the shadows of the trees, Louis following suit as best as he can. He sharpens his ears, trying to hear if there’s trouble up ahead, but it’s quiet.
"Can you see anything?" Louis whispers when Harry stops and crouches down.
"No," Harry whispers back.
Louis squats down next to Harry, and focuses his eyes towards the camp. All their stuff is still there, the tent is still up. Everything is just how he left it this morning. Empty.
"They’re not here," Louis says, and loses the little hope he has left.
He starts to stand up, but Harry drags him back down quickly. "Don’t move," he warns.
Louis frowns, following Harry’s line of sight. Moving into the camp from one side are two men dressed in black, but not the same men from before. A beat later, three other men move into view from the other side of the camp.
Louis freezes, trying to breathe as quietly as possible. Harry is also frozen in place, but his shoulders are more relaxed. He’s obviously used to this.
The men approach the burnt-out campfire, shaking their heads at each other.
"Nothing," one of the men says.
"Did you check by the river?" another one asks.
"He’s not here," the first man says again.
Louis’ heart hammers. "What are they looking for?" he asks as quietly as he can, though he thinks he might know the answer.
Harry gives Louis a look, and there’s something like an apology in his eyes, confirming Louis’ theory.
They’re looking for him.
-From Now That This Old World Is Ending by @thetommmo / daggerinrose
(Larry, 49k)
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Masterpost
