Hermione knew about Harry's departure.
Her sleep had always been poor, especially recently. She would wake up at the slightest sign of trouble.
It was the same today.
Harry was too reckless. Even when there was such a big problem, he still chose to go into the forest alone.
It really made people worry.
The wind was cold.
Hermione put on a coat for herself and walked out of the tent while pinching her collar. She saw Snape standing outside.
"Good evening, Professor Snape. I don't think you're here to capture us, are you?"
Snape hid in the shadows and looked at Hermione silently.
There was no light between the two of them, so Hermione raised her hand and a ball of fluorescent light spread out between them.
Even if she gave the wand to Harry, she had ways to protect herself. As Jon's student, how could she not know how to cast spells without a wand?
Hermione's talent was something that even Grindelwald had praised. In terms of magic talent, she was even stronger than Jon by a bit.
"I'm here to deliver something."
"You guessed it. So you've delivered the thing?"
"He went to get it."
"Did anyone follow you?"
"I think you should treat me better." Snape said in a low voice, "This is not the attitude a good student should have towards a professor."
"Am I still a student?"
"Miss Granger … You're not bad. Looks like Jon does have a good student."
Snape laughed coldly. "But you don't have to worry about what happened tonight. I've brought Ron back too. The light extinguisher that Dumbledore left for him is pretty good. I'll let him tell you the details. Jon asked me to meet you so that you can prepare in advance. I still have to meet Molly. Where are you going next?"
"I haven't decided yet."
Hermione knew that Snape did not have bad intentions and that he was not the mastermind of the plan. If someone was to blame, the first person to be blamed would be her teacher, Jon.
So this matter was not important.
"Your teacher is not free recently, so I'm here. You have to investigate two things, the soul weapon and the Sacred Weapon of Death. You don't have to investigate the soul weapon, he will help you when the time comes."
"If teacher is here to help, then the Sacred Relic of Death …"
"Investigate it yourself. We're not babysitters. We don't care about anything else other than your safety. If you need us for everything, why would you leave our protection? "
"…"
After Snape left, Jon cut open the image.
Hermione did not need to worry. She could handle these things. She was a good actress.
If his talent was too strong, there was no need to worry.
…
Harry, on the other hand, is a cause for concern.
When Jon switched the image back, he saw him lying on the ice, looking at the bottom of the pool.
He used his wand to point at the silver sword and whispered, "Come to me, sword!"
The sword did not move, and Harry did not expect it to fly.
If it was that easy, the sword would be lying on the ground waiting for him to pick it up, and not in the depths of the frozen pond.
He began to walk around the circular ice surface, trying to recall the last time the sword had automatically fallen into his hands. At that time, he was in a critical situation and was asking for help.
"Save me!"
He said softly, but the sword was still lying at the bottom of the pool, cold and motionless.
Harry began to recall Dumbledore's words.
"Only a real Gryffindor can pull it out of the hat."
What are the special qualities of a Gryffindor?
A small voice in Harry's head answered, Their courage, spirit and chivalry make Gryffindor stand out.
Harry stopped and let out a long sigh. The mist from his breath quickly dissipated in the cold air.
He knew what he had to do. If he had to admit it, he had expected this from the moment he saw the sword lying under the ice.
He scanned the surrounding forest again, but now he was sure that no one would attack him.
If someone wanted to attack him, they could have done it when he was walking through the forest alone, and there were many opportunities when he was inspecting the pond.
The only reason he was delaying now was that what he had to do was too unpleasant.
Harry began to remove layers of clothes with his disobedient hands.
Was there any "chivalry" in this? He thought gloomily. Unless it could be considered chivalry without asking Hermione to do it for him.
Somewhere an owl hooted as he undressed, and his heart ached for Hedwig.
He was shivering now, and his teeth were chattering, but he continued to undress until he was down to his underwear and stood barefoot in the snow.
He put the bag containing his wand, his mother's letter, Sirius's mirror shard, and the Old Snitch on top of his clothes, and pointed Hermione's wand at the ice.
"Fall apart."
There was a crack like a bullet in the silence: the ice cracked, and great dark chunks of it bobbed on the surface of the water.
The water was not deep, Harry judged, but to get the sword he had to be completely submerged.
No matter how much he thought about it, it would not make the task in front of him easier, nor would it warm the water.
Harry went to the edge of the pond and put Hermione's wand on the ground, leaving it burning.
Then, he tried his best not to think about how cold he would be, or how he would soon be shivering, and jumped in.
Every pore on his body screamed in protest, the air seemed to freeze in his lungs, and the water stung up to his shoulders.
He could hardly breathe, and he was shivering so hard that the water splashed onto the shore. He searched for the sword with his numb feet, trying only to dive once.
Harry gasped and shuddered, delaying the moment of total immersion by the second. At last he told himself he had to do it, and he summoned all his courage and dove.
The bone-piercing cold was like a fire tormenting him. His brain seemed to be frozen. He dived to the bottom of the dark icy water and groped with both arms for the sword. His fingers found the hilt, and he pulled it up.
Suddenly something clenched around his neck.
He thought of water plants, though he had not touched anything as he dived.
He raised his free hand to tear them off, and found that they were not water plants: the chain of the Horcrux had tightened and was slowly strangling his windpipe.
Harry kicked furiously, trying to push himself to the surface, but he only hit the stone wall of the pond.
He thrashed about, breathing hard, clinging to the chain that was tightening, but his frozen fingers could not pry it free.
He began to see stars in his head. He was drowning, he thought, hopeless, powerless, the arms that held him must be Death's...
He came to himself, coughing and retching, soaked to the skin, colder than he had ever been.
Not far away, another man was panting and coughing, staggering about.
Hermione had come just in time again, as when the serpent had struck...
But it did not sound like her, the deep coughing, the heavy footsteps...
Harry did not have the strength to lift his head to see who had saved him.
All he could do was raise his trembling hand to his throat and feel the place where the locket had dug into his flesh.
The locket was gone: someone had cut it off for him. At this moment a panting voice sounded overhead.
"You — you — what's wrong with you?"
It was only the shock of the voice that gave Harry the strength to get up.
He shuddered violently and staggered to his feet.
In front of him stood Ron. He was wearing clothes, but he looked like a drowned rat. His hair was sticking to his face. He was holding Gryffindor's sword in one hand and the broken golden chain with the soul tool hanging on it in the other.
"Damn it," Ron panted and lifted the soul vessel. It swung on the broken chain, a bit like a performance of hypnotism. "Why didn't you take this thing off when you jumped?"
Harry could not answer.
Compared to Ron's reappearance, the silver fawn was not important, really not important.
He could not believe it. Although he was shivering in the cold, he grabbed the pile of clothes still by the water and put them on his head one by one. He stared at Ron, a little worried that he would disappear every time he could not see him.
But he should be real: he had just saved his life by jumping into the pond.
"It's — it's you?"
Harry finally said, his teeth chattering, his voice weaker than usual because he had almost been strangled.
"Yes."
Ron seemed a little flustered.
"You — you summoned the fawn?"
"What?
No, of course not!
I thought it was you! "
"My guardian is a stag."
"Oh, yes, I thought it looked different, no horns."
Harry hung the leather bag Hagrid had given him around his neck, put on the last sweater, bent down to pick up Hermione's wand, and looked at Ron again.
"Why are you here?"
Apparently, Ron wanted the question to be asked later, or not at all.
"Well, I — you know — I'm back, if —" He cleared his throat. "You know, if you still want me."
There was a silence. The topic of Ron's escape seemed to be a wall between the two of them.
But he was here, he was back, and he had just saved Harry's life.
Ron looked down at the thing in his hand and seemed surprised for a moment.
"Oh, yes, I fished it out," he said unnecessarily.
He said unnecessarily, showing the sword to Harry for inspection. "You jumped for this, didn't you?"
"Yes," said Harry. "But I don't understand. How did you get here? How did you find us? "
"It's a long story," said Ron. "I've been looking for you for hours. It's a big forest, isn't it?
I was just about to sleep under the tree and wait for the sun to rise when I saw the deer running over. You follow behind it. "
"You didn't see anyone else?"
"No," said Ron. "I —"
He hesitated and looked at the two trees close together a few metres away.
"— I thought I saw something moving over there, but I was running for the pond because you jumped and didn't come up, so I didn't want to go around — hey!"
Harry was already running where Ron had pointed.
Two oaks grew close together, and there was a gap of only a few inches at eye level. It was a good place to steal without being seen.
But there was no snow around the roots, and Harry saw no footprints.
He walked back to where Ron stood waiting, still holding the sword and the Soul Vessel.
"Is there anything there?"
"No."
"How could the sword be in the pond?"
"The one who summoned the guardian must have put it in there."
The two men looked at the fine silver sword, its ruby hilt shining slightly in the fluorescent light of Hermione's wand.
"Do you think it's real?"
"There's a way to find out, isn't there?"
The Soul Vessel was still dangling in Ron's hand, and the locket trembled slightly. Harry knew that the thing inside was restless again. It had felt the sword close by and tried to strangle Harry to keep him from getting it.
Now was not the time to talk. It was time to destroy the locket completely.
Harry held Hermione's wand high, looked around and found the place: a large flat stone in the shade of a plane tree.
"Come with me."
He walked over first, brushed the snow off the stone, and reached for the Soul Vessel.
But when Ron also handed over the sword, Harry shook his head.
"No, you should do it."
"Me?" said Ron in amazement. "Why?"
"Because you fished the sword out of the pond. I think you should do it."
He was no more generous or modest than he had been when he had learned that the reindeer was harmless. He was sure that Ron had to be the one to wield the sword.
Dumbledore had at least taught Harry to recognize certain kinds of magic, that certain actions had inestimable power.
"I'll open it," said Harry. "You stab it. Stab it as soon as it's opened, all right?
Because the thing inside will resist. Liddell in the diary tried to kill me. "
"How are you going to open it?"
Asked Ron, looking frightened.
"I'll tell it to open, in a snake's voice," said Harry.
The answer came out so naturally that he felt as if he had known it all along: perhaps it was the last encounter with Nagini that had made him realize it.
He looked at the snake-shaped S, set in glittering emeralds, and could easily imagine it as a small serpent coiled around the cold stone.
"No!" said Ron. "No, don't open it! Really! "
"Why? We've been getting rid of the damned thing for months — "
"I can't, Harry, really — you do it —"
"But why?"
"Because it's bad for me!"
Ron looked at the locket on the stone and backed away. "I can't deal with it!
I'm not excusing myself, Harry, but this thing has affected me more than it has you or Hermione. It's given me ideas that I had before, and it's made everything worse.
I can't explain it. Every time I take it off I wake up, but then I have to put the damned thing on again — I can't, Harry! "
He had backed away, dragging the sword behind him, shaking his head.
"You can do it," said Harry. "You can!
You've just got the sword. I know it's you who should use it.
Please, get rid of it, Ron. "
Hearing his name seemed to be an inspiration. Ron swallowed his saliva and walked back to the boulder, his long nose still breathing heavily.
"Tell me when."
He spoke in a low, hoarse voice.
"On the count of three."
Harry looked down at the locket, squinting at the letter S, imagining a snake as the thing inside the locket rattled like a cockroach in a cage.
It was almost easy to pity it, except that the wound on Harry's neck still burned.
"One … two … three … open."
The last word was a hissing roar, and the little gold lid of the locket clicked open.
Behind each of the two little panes, a living eye blinked, black and bright, like Tom Riddle's before they turned red and the pupils narrowed to slits.
"Stab!"
Said Harry, pressing the locket firmly against the stone.
Ron raised the sword with trembling hands, the point hovering above the wildly moving eyes.
Harry clutched the locket, ready, already imagining the blood spurting from the empty little window.
At this time, a hissing sound came from the soul tool.
"I see your heart. It's mine."
"Don't listen to it!"
Harry said sternly, and his face became a little twisted. "Stab!"
"I see your dreams, Ron Weasley, and I see your fears.
What you desire may come to pass, but what you fear may also come to pass … "
"Stab!"
Shouted Harry, echoing through the trees. The tip of the sword trembled. Ron stared into Riddle's eyes.
"Always the least loved, a mother's daughter … the least loved, and now the girl's in love with your friend … always the second, always the worst …"
"Ron, stab it!"
Roared Harry. He could feel the locket vibrating in his hand, terrified of what was about to happen.
Ron raised the sword higher, and Liddell's eyes turned red.
From the two little windows of the locket, from the eyes, two grotesque soap bubbles emerged. They were Harry's and Hermione's heads, grotesquely deformed.
Ron cried out and took a few steps back. Two figures rose from the locket, chest, waist, legs, and finally stood in the locket like two trees of the same root, swaying above Ron and Real Harry.
Harry had already withdrawn his hand from the locket, because it had suddenly become very hot.
"Ron!"
He shouted, but now Riddle Harry spoke in Voldemort's voice. Ron stared at the face as if hypnotized.
"Why did you come back? We were better off without you, happier, glad you weren't here … we laughed at your stupidity, your cowardice, your self-righteousness — "
"Self-righteousness!"
Repeated Riddle Hermione. She was prettier than Real Hermione, but she was terrible: she swayed before Ron, laughing. Ron seemed terrified, but he could not move. His sword hung limply at his side.
"Who would look at you? Who would look at you when you're standing next to Harry Potter?
Compared to the 'Star of Salvation', what have you done?
Compared to the 'boy who survived the disaster', what are you? "
"Ron, stab it, stab it!"
Shouted Harry, but Ron did not move. His eyes were wide, and reflected in them were Riddle Harry and Riddle Hermione, their hair swirling like fire, their eyes glowing red, their voices rising to an evil duet.
"Your mother admitted it," said Riddle Harry sarcastically. Riddle Hermione laughed loudly. "She preferred me as a son. She was willing to trade …"
"Who didn't prefer him? What woman would choose you?
You're nothing compared to him, nothing. "
Riddle Hermione sang softly. Her body grew as long as a snake. She wrapped herself around Riddle Harry and held him close, their lips touching.
On the ground in front of them, Ron's face was full of pain. He held his sword high, his arm trembling.
"Stab, Ron!"
Harry thought he saw a flash of red in Ron's eyes.
"Ron —"
There was a flash of light. The sword suddenly struck. Harry leaped out of the way. There was a clang of metal, followed by a long scream.
Harry turned quickly, slipped on the snow, and raised his wand to defend himself, but there was nothing to block.
The horrible apparitions of himself and Hermione were gone. Only Ron stood there, holding his sword helplessly and looking down at the broken pieces of the locket on the stone.
Harry walked slowly back to him, not knowing what to say or do.
Ron was breathing heavily. His eyes were not red at all. They were still blue, and a little wet.
Harry pretended not to see and bent to pick up the broken Horcrux.
Ron pierced the glass of the two little windows. Riddle's eyes were gone, and wisps of smoke rose from the colorful silk lining of the locket.
The thing that lived in the Horcrux was gone. Tormenting Ron was its last act.
The sword fell from Ron's hand with a clang. He fell to his knees, holding his head.
He was shivering, but it was not from the cold.
Harry put the broken locket in his pocket, knelt beside Ron, and put a cautious hand on his shoulder.
It was a good sign that he hadn't been shaken off.
"After you left," he whispered, glad that Ron's face was hidden from the darkness, "she cried for a week, maybe longer, but she didn't want me to see it.
There were nights when we didn't talk.
You weren't there … "
He couldn't go on. Now that Ron was back, Harry fully realized what a loss it was for them not to have him.
"She was like a sister to me," he continued.
"I loved her like a sister, and I'm sure she was like that to me. Always was. I thought you knew."
Instead of answering, Ron turned his face away and wiped his nose noisily with his sleeve.
Harry got up and walked to Ron's huge backpack a few meters away, which Ron had left behind when he ran to the pond to save him.
Harry hoisted it onto his back and walked back to Ron.
Ron got up too, his eyes bloodshot but calm.
"I'm sorry."
"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have left," he said in a muffled voice. "I know I'm a — a —"
He looked around in the darkness, as if hoping a vicious enough word would swoop down to claim him.
"You've made up for almost everything tonight," Harry said. "Fishing out the sword, destroying the Horcrux, and saving my life."
"That sounds a lot bigger than I am."
"Things like that always sound a lot bigger than they are," Harry said. "I've been trying to tell you that all these years."
They stepped forward at the same time and hugged each other, Harry clutching Ron's still-damp clothes on his back.
"Now," Harry said when they were apart, "all we have to do is find the tent."
It wasn't hard to find the tent.
Although the walk through the black forest with the reindeer seemed a long way, with Ron beside him, it took surprisingly little time to get back.
Harry couldn't wait to wake Hermione. He walked excitedly into the tent, and Ron followed a little hesitantly.
It was extremely warm here compared to the pond and the forest.
The only source of light was the bluebells of the flames, which still glowed in a bowl on the floor.
Hermione was curled up under the blankets, fast asleep, and Harry had to call her several times before she woke.
"Hermione!"
She stirred and sat up quickly, pushing the hair out of her face.
"What's the matter, Harry? Are you all right? "
"Yes, everything's fine. Not just fine, it's wonderful. There's a man here."
"What did you say? Who —? "
She saw Ron standing there with his sword, dripping water onto the ragged carpet.
Harry retreated into the shadows of the corner, took down Ron's pack, and tried to blend in with the canvas wall of the tent.
Hermione got out of bed and walked dreamily towards Ron, her eyes fixed on his pale face.
She stopped in front of him, her lips slightly parted, her eyes wide.
Ron smiled weakly in hope, his arms half open.
Hermione rushed forward and began to hit every inch of his body within her reach.
"Ouch — ow — let go! Why —? Hermione — ow! "
"You — big — bastard — Ron — Weasley!"
She was still angry, even if she had known.
Perhaps it was because she liked him.
Who can say for sure about love, can they?
Hermione added a punch to every word, and Ron ducked back, shielding his head. Hermione pursued.
"You — crawled back — here?
So many--so many--weeks--after
Oh, where's my wand? "
She seemed to be snatching it from Harry's hands, and Harry reacted instinctively.
"Armor for protection!"
The invisible vertical wall immediately separated Ron and Hermione, and the momentum knocked her to the ground.
She spat out the hair in her mouth and jumped up again.
"Hermione!" Harry said. "Calm down —"
"I won't calm down!"
She screamed.
Harry had never seen her so out of control. It was almost like madness.
"Give me back my wand! Give it back! "
"Hermione, please —"
"Don't boss me around, Harry Potter!"
She cried sharply. "I warn you! Give it back! And you! "
She pointed accusingly at Ron, like a curse, and Harry felt that he could not blame Ron for taking a few steps back.
"I ran after you! I called after you! I begged you to come back! "
"I know," said Ron. "Hermione, I'm sorry, I really —"
"Oh, you're sorry!"
She laughed, a shrill, hysterical sound.
Ron looked at Harry for help, but Harry only grimaced helplessly.
"You came back after so many weeks — after so many weeks — and you think it's all right to say you're sorry?"
"Then what was I supposed to say?"
Shouted Ron, and Harry was glad that Ron was rebelling.
"Oh, I don't know!"
Cried Hermione, with bitter irony. "Rack your brains, Ron, it'll only take two seconds —"
"Hermione," Harry interrupted, thinking that this was a very unkind attack, "he just saved my —"
"I don't care!" she shrieked. "I don't care what he did! We might all be dead after so many weeks — "
"I know you're not dead!"
Roared Ron, for the first time above her voice, and as close as he could get through the iron spell. "It's all about Harry in the Daily Prophet. It's all over the radio. They're looking for you everywhere. So many rumors and ridiculous stories. I know I'd hear about it right away if you were dead. You don't know —"
"Don't know how you got through it?"
Her voice was so shrill now that soon only bats could hear it.
But she was so angry that she couldn't speak for a moment, and Ron seized his chance.
"I tried to Apparate back, but I landed in the middle of a bunch of Searchers. Hermione, I couldn't get away!"
"A bunch of what?"
Asked Harry.
Hermione plopped into a chair, hugging her arms and crossing her legs so tightly that she looked like she wouldn't let go for years.
"Searchers," said Ron. "They're all over the place. A bunch of guys who want to make money by hunting down Muggle -born Wizard and Pureblood traitors.
The Ministry of Magic offers a reward for every one they catch.
I was alone, and I looked like a schoolboy. They were so excited that they thought I was a Muggle -born runaway.
I had to talk my way out of being dragged into the Ministry of Magic. "
"What did you tell them?"
"I said it was Stan Sampak, the first person I could think of."
"And they believed you?"
"They're not very smart.
One of them must be of Troll blood. The smell on him … "
Ron glanced at Hermione, apparently hoping that this little bit of humour would lighten her mood, but she was still tightly entwined and her expression was like a slate.
"Anyway, they quarreled about whether I was Stan or not. It was a bit of a pity, really.
But there were five of them against me, and they took my wand.
Then two of them got into a fight, and while the others were distracted, I punched the man who grabbed me in the stomach, snatched his wand, cast a Disarm Charm on the man who held it, and teleported away.
I didn't do a very good job. I split again — "
Ron held up his right hand, which was missing two fingernails.
Hermione raised her eyebrows coldly.
"— a long way from where I manifested myself. By the time I got back to the river where I came from — you were gone. "
"Oh, what a thrilling story," said Harry.
"You must have been frightened," said Hermione, in the haughty tone she always used when she wanted to hurt people.
"And we went to Godric's Hollow. Let's see, what happened there, Harry?
Oh, yes, the Mystique's snake jumped out and almost killed us, and then the Mystique himself arrived and was a second away from catching us. "
"What?"
Ron opened his mouth wide and looked from Hermione to Harry, but Harry didn't look at him.
"Think of losing your fingernails, Harry!
It really shows how little we've suffered, doesn't it? "
"Hermione," said Harry in a low voice, "Ron just saved my life."
She didn't seem to hear.
"But I'd like to know one thing," she said.
She said, her eyes fixed on a foot above Ron's head. "How did you find us tonight?
It's important.
Knowing this will guarantee that we won't be disturbed by anyone we don't want to see. "
Ron stared at her, then pulled out a small silver object from his jeans pocket.
"This."
She had to look at Ron to see what he had taken out.
"A light extinguisher?"
She acted so surprised that she forgot to put on a cold, fierce face.
"It doesn't just turn lights on and off," said Ron.
"I don't know why it does that, or why it did that and not any other time, because I've been wanting to come back ever since I left. But I was listening to the radio, early on Christmas morning, and I heard — heard you. "
He looked at Hermione.
"You heard me on the radio?"
"No, I heard you in my pocket. Your voice, "he held up the extinguisher again," came from this. "
"What on earth am I talking about?"
Asked Hermione, in a tone somewhere between suspicion and curiosity.
"My name is' Ron '. You said something about … a wand … "
Hermione's face went red, and Harry remembered: it was the first time they'd said Ron's name since he'd left.
Hermione had mentioned him when she talked about fixing Harry's wand.
"So I took it out," continued Ron, looking at the extinguisher. "It didn't look strange, but I was pretty sure I heard you, so I pressed it. The light in my room went out, but another light appeared outside the window."
Ron raised his hand and pointed forward, his eyes fixed on something that neither Harry nor Hermione could see.
"It was a ball of light. It seemed to be pulsing, blue, like the light around a door key, you know?"
"Yes."
Harry and Hermione said involuntarily.
"I knew it was it, so I packed up and put on my knapsack and went into the garden."
"The little ball of light stayed in the air waiting for me, and when I came out it floated up and down for a while.
I followed it to the back of the hut, and then it … well, it floated into me. "
"What?"
Harry raised his eyebrows, thinking he hadn't heard.
"It floated towards me," said Ron, demonstrating with his forefinger, "all the way to my chest, and then — it went in. Here it was. "
He pointed to a spot near his heart. "I could feel it. It was hot.
As soon as it was inside me, I knew what to do. It would take me where I had to go.
So I moved like a shadow and came to a hillside, and there was snow everywhere … "
"We've been there," said Harry. "We were there for two nights, and on the second night I kept thinking someone was walking and shouting in the dark!"
"Well, that must have been me," said Ron.
Ron said, "At least your protective spell is effective, because I can't see or hear you.
But I was sure you were nearby, so at last I crawled into my sleeping bag and waited for one of you to show up.
I thought you'd show up when you put away your tent. "
"Not necessarily," said Hermione. "We all moved like shadows under the Invisibility Cloak, just to be sure.
And we left early, because, as Harry said, we heard someone bumping around. "
"I was on that hill all day," said Ron. "I kept hoping you'd show up. But when it got dark, I knew I'd missed it, so I pressed the switch again. The blue light appeared and floated into me again, and I moved like a shadow into the woods.
I still couldn't see you, so I just had to hope one of you would show up — Harry did.
Well, I saw the stag first, obviously. "
"What did you see?"
Only then did the two of them tell him about their adventures. As the story of the silver stag and the sword at the bottom of the pool unfolded, Hermione frowned and looked back and forth between them, so absorbed was she that she forgot to wrap her limbs tight.
She knew about it, but it was still a surprise to hear it again.
"But it must have been a guardian!"
She hid the fact that Snape's guardian was a stag and said, "Didn't you see who summoned it?
Didn't you see anyone?
It led you to the sword!
Unbelievable! And then? "
Ron told her how he saw Harry jump into the pool, wanted to wait for him to come up, then realized something was wrong and jumped in to save Harry, then went back to get the sword.
He got to the point where he opened the locket, then hesitated, so Harry cut in.
"— Ron stabbed it with the sword."
"And … and it died? That's it? "
"Oh, it — it screamed." Harry glanced at Ron and said, "Here."
He threw the locket into her lap, and she picked it up gingerly, examining the small window that had been pierced.
Concluding that it was finally safe, Harry waved Hermione's wand to dispel the Iron Charm, then turned to Ron.
"Did you just say that you earned a magic wand when you escaped from the search and rescue team?"
"What?"
Ron, who was watching Hermione examine the locket, said, "Oh — yeah."
He shrugged off the strap of his backpack and pulled out a short, black wand from the bag.
"Here, I think it's always good to have a spare."
"You're right." Harry held out her hand and said, "Mine's broken."
"Are you kidding?"
Ron said, but when Hermione stood up, he became uneasy again.
Hermione put the conquered soul weapon into the beaded bag, climbed back into her bed, and lay down without a word.
Ron handed the new wand to Harry.
"That's pretty much the best you could hope for, I think."
"Yeah," Ron said, "It's not the worst. Remember those birds she let out to peck me?"
"I haven't ruled that out yet."
Hermione's muffled voice came from under the blanket, but Harry saw Ron smile and pull out his dark purple pajamas from his backpack.
The light dimmed.
Jon looked at the dark screen and fell asleep contentedly.
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