Second later, Ron had snatched his arm back from around her shoulders; she had dropped

The Monster of Monsters on his foot. The book had broken free from its restraining belt

and snapped viciously at Ron’s ankle.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” Hermione cried as Harry wrenched the book from Ron’s

Leg and retied it shit.

“What are you doing with all those books anyway?” Ron asked, limping back to

His bed.

“Just trying to decide which ones to take with us,” said Hermione, “When we’re

looking for the Horcruxes.”

“Oh, of course,” said Ron, clapping a hand to his forehead. “I forgot we’ll be

hunting down Voldemort in a mobile library.”

“Ha ha,” said Hermione, looking down at Spellman’s Syllabary. “I wonder . . .

will we need to translate runes? It’s possible. . . . I think we’d better take it, to be safe.”

She dropped the syllabary onto the larger of the two piles and picked up Hogwarts,

A History.

“Listen,” said Harry.

He had sat up straight. Ron and Hermione looked at him with similar mixtures of

Resignation and defiance.

“I know you said after Dumbledore’s funeral that you wanted to come with me,”

Harry began.

“Here he goes,” Ron said to Hermione, rolling his eyes.

“As we knew he would,” he sighed, turning back to the books. “You know, I

think I will take Hogwarts, A History. Even if we’re not going back there, I don’t think

I’d feel right if I didn’t have it with –“

“Listen!” said Harry again.

“No, Harry, you listen,” said Hermione. “We’re coming with you. That was

decided months ago – years, really.”

“But –“

“Shut up,” Ron advised him.

“– are you sure you’ve thought this through?” Harry persisted.

“Let’s see,” said Hermione, slamming Travels with Trolls onto the discarded pile

with a rather fierce look. “I’ve been packing for days, so we’re ready to leave at a

moment’s notice, which for your information has included doing some pretty difficult

magic, not to mention smuggling Mad-Eye’s whole stock of Polyjuice Potion right under

Ron’s mum’s nose.

“I’ve also modified my parents’ memories so that they’re convinced they’re really

called Wendell and Monica Wilkins, and that their life’s ambition is to move to Australia,

which they have now done. That’s to make it more difficult for Voldemort to track them

down and interrogate them about me – or you, because unfortunately, I’ve told them quite

A bit about you.

“Assuming I survive our hunt for the Horcruxes, I’ll find Mum and Dad and lift

the enchantment. If I don’t – well, I think I’ve cast a good enough charm to keep them

safe and happy. Wendell and Monica Wilkins don’t know that they’ve got a daughter,

you see.”

Hermione’s eyes were swimming with tears again. Ron got back off the bed, put

His arm around her once more, and frowned at Harry as though reproaching him for lack

Of tact. Harry could not think of anything to say, not least because it was highly unusual

For Ron to be teaching anyone else tact.

“I – Hermione, I’m sorry – I didn’t –“

“Didn’t realize that Ron and I know perfectly well what might happen if we come

with you? Well, we do. Ron, show Harry what you’ve done.”

“Nah, he’s just eaten,” said Ron.

“Go on, he needs to know!”

“Oh, all right. Harry, come here.”

For the second time Ron withdrew his arm from around Hermione and stumped

Over to the door.

“C’mon.”

“Why?” Harry asked, following Ron out of the room onto the tiny landing.

“Descendo,” muttered Ron, pointing his wand at the low ceiling. A hatch opened

Date: 2015-12-11; view: 506