But as Hermione moved, Bashida unexpectedly shook her head violently and pointed to Harry, then to herself.
'She wants me to go with her alone. '
'Why? '
Asked Hermione, her voice sharp and clear, echoing in the flickering candlelit room. She was beginning to feel uneasy. Her suspicions seemed to be coming true - without Jon there was danger.
'Perhaps Dumbledore told her to give me the sword, and only me? '
'Do you really think she knows who you are? '
'Yes, 'said Harry, staring down into the cloudy eyes that stared back at him.' I think she does. '
'All right, but be quick about it, Harry. '
'Lead on. '
The old lady seemed to understand, and hobbled around him to the door.
Harry looked back and smiled reassuringly at Hermione, but he did not know whether she saw it or not. She stood in the dirty candlelit room with her arms folded, looking at the bookshelves.
Neither Hermione nor Bashida saw that Harry had tucked the silver frame of the unknown thief under his coat as he left the room.
The stairs were steep and narrow: Harry almost wanted to put his hand against the bulky back of Bashida to prevent her falling backwards on him, which seemed too likely.
Panting a little, she climbed slowly to the top of the stairs, turned right at once, and led him into a low bedroom.
It was pitch black inside, and the smell was horrible. Harry had just dimly discerned a chamber-pot protruding from the bed when Bashida closed the door, and the little vision was swallowed up by the darkness.
'Flicker, 'said Harry.
Said Harry, startled by the light of the wand: in the few seconds of darkness he had not heard Bashida come up beside him.
'Are you Potter? '
'Yes, I am. '
She nodded slowly, solemnly, and Harry felt the Horcrux beating faster than his own heart. It was an uncomfortable, fretful sensation.
'Do you have something for me? '
Asked Harry, but she seemed distracted by the light at the tip of his wand.
'Do you have something for me? '
She closed her eyes, and several things happened: Harry's scar hurt like a needle, the Horcrux trembled, and even the sweater on his chest moved with it.
He felt a rush of joy at the temporary disappearance of the dark, rancid room, and said in a high, cold voice, "Watch him!"
Harry swayed for a moment: the dark, rancid room seemed to close around him again, and he did not understand what had happened.
"Do you have something for me?"
"This way."
She pointed to a corner and whispered, and Harry, raising his wand, could just make out a cluttered dressing-table under the curtained window.
This time she did not take him.
Harry raised his wand and moved sideways between her and the unmade bed. He didn't want to take his eyes off her.
"What is this?"
He asked, moving to the dresser, which was piled high with what looked and smelled like dirty clothes.
"There."
She said, pointing to the jumbled pile.
Just as he turned his eyes away to search the heap for a sword hilt, a ruby, she made a queer movement: he saw it out of the corner of his eye, and turned round in horror, paralyzed with fear.
He saw the old body fall, and a great serpent shoot out from where her neck had been.
As he raised his wand, the serpent struck: it bit him hard on the forearm, and the wand went somersaulting towards the ceiling, its fluorescent lights whirling dizzily around the walls, and dying out.
Then the serpent's tail struck him hard in the stomach, and he gasped for air. He fell back against the dressing-table, into the stinking heap of dirty clothes —
He rolled to the side and barely dodged the snake's tail. It slapped the spot on the table where he had been a second ago.
He tumbled to the floor, splashing glass all over him, and heard Hermione call from downstairs: "Harry?"
He could not get enough air into his lungs to answer, and suddenly a heavy, slick mass knocked him down again. He felt it slide over him, strong, powerful —
"No!"
"It is," whispered the voice. "It is … watch you … watch you …"
"The wand … the wand is coming …"
But it did not work.
He had to use both hands to push the serpent away, to squeeze the air out of his lungs, to press the horcrux into his chest, a pulsating circle of ice inches from his own beating heart.
A cold white light suddenly appeared in his mind. All of his thoughts became blank. His breathing was drowned out. The sound of footsteps in the distance, everything disappeared …
A metal heart beat outside his chest, and now he was flying, with the joy of victory in his heart, without the need for broomsticks and nightwalkers …
He awoke suddenly in a sour darkness, and Nagini had loosened his grip.
He scrambled to his feet and saw the serpent silhouetted in the dim light of the stairs: it was attacking. Hermione screamed and dodged aside. Her spell was off target, shattering the curtained window and flooding the room with cold air.
Harry dodged another shower of broken glass, and stepped on something that looked like a pencil — his wand —
He stooped to pick it up, but now the serpent filled the room, its tail lashing.
Hermione was gone, and for a moment Harry thought the worst. But suddenly there was a crash and a flash of red light, and the serpent was flying through the air, slamming into Harry's face. Circles and circles of its heavy body rose toward the ceiling.
Harry raised his wand, but then the scar burned even more fiercely. It had not hurt like this in years.
"He's coming! Hermione, he's coming! "
There was chaos as the serpent knocked over a shelf on the wall. Broken porcelain flew everywhere. Harry leaped across the bed and grabbed the dark shape he knew was Hermione —
She screamed in pain, and Harry pulled her back to the side of the bed. The serpent reared, but Harry knew that something worse than the serpent was coming. Perhaps it was already at the gate. His scars hurt so badly that his skull felt like splitting —
The serpent swooped in, and Harry lunged out, dragging Hermione with him.
As it came, Hermione finally got the signal. She flung her wand and screamed, "Thunderbolt Explosion!"
Her spell raced around the room, blowing up the dressing glass and bouncing back at them from floor to ceiling. The heat of the spell burned Harry's arm.
The two of them leaped straight through the broken window into the void. Hermione's scream echoed in the night as they spun in midair …
Then Harry's scar burst open. He was Voldemort. He was running through the stinking bedroom, his long, pale fingers clutching the windowsill.
He saw the bald man and the little woman spinning out of sight. He shouted in fury. His shout mingled with the girl's, echoing through the dark garden, drowning out the Christmas bells from the church …
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