He held up the Snitch.

“--- and You-Know-Who’s chasing the third, but he doesn’t realize…he just

thinks it’s a powerful wand ---“

“Harry,” said Hermione, moving across to him and handing him back Lily’s letter,

“I’m sorry, but I think you’ve got this wrong, all wrong.”

“But don’t you see? It all fits ---“

“Not, it doesn’t,” she said. “It doesn’t. Harry, you’re just getting carried away.

Please,” she said as she started to speak, “please just answer me this: If the Deathly

Hallows really existed, and Dumbledore knew about them, knew that the person who

possessed all of them would be master of Death --- Harry, why wouldn’t he have told

you? Why?”

He had his answer ready.

“But you said it, Hermione! You’ve got to find out about them for yourself! It’s a

Quest!”

“But I only said that to try and persuade you to come to the Lovegoods’!” cried

Hermione in exasperation. “I didn’t really believe it!”

Harry took no notice.

“Dumbledore usually let me find out stuff for myself. He let me try my strength,

take risks. This feels like the kind of thing he’d do.”

“Harry, this isn’t a game, this isn’t practice! This is the real thing, and

Dumbledore left you very clear instructions: Find and destroy the Horcruxes! That

symbol doesn’t mean anything, forget the Deathly Hallows, we can’t afford to get

sidetracked ---“

Harry was barely listening to her. He was turning the Snitch over and over in his

Hands, half expecting it to break open, to reveal the Resurrection Stone, to prove to

Hermione that he was right, that the Deathly Hallows were real.

She appealed to Ron.

“You don’t believe in this, do you?”

Harry looked up, Ron hesitated.

“I dunno…I mean…bits of it sort of fit together,” said Ron awkwardly, “But

when you look at the whole thing…” He took a deep breath. “I think we’re supposed to

get rid of Horcruxes, Harry. That’s what Dumbledore told us to do. Maybe…maybe we

should forget about this Hallows business.”

“Thank you, Ron,” said Hermione. “I’ll take first watch.”

And she strode past Harry and sat down in the tent entrance bringing the action to

A fierce full stop.

But Harry hardly slept that night. The idea of the Deathly Hallows had taken

Possession of him, and he could not rest while agitating thoughts whirled through his

mind: the wand, the stone, and the Cloak, if he could just possess them all…

I open at the close…But what was the close? Why couldn’t he have the stone

now? If only he had the stone, he could ask Dumbledore these questions in person…and

Harry murmured words to the Snitch in the darkness, trying everything, even

Parseltongue, but the golden ball would not open…

And the wand, the Elder Wand, where was that hidden? Where was Voldemort

searching now? Harry wished his scar would burn and show him Voldemort’s thoughts,

Because for the first time ever, he and Voldemort were united in wanting the very same

thing…Hermione would not like that idea, of course…But then, she did not

believe….Xenophilius had been right, in a way…Limited, Narrow, Close-minded. The

Truth was that she was scared of the idea of the Deathly Hallows, especially of the

Resurrection Stone…and Harry pressed his mouth again to the Snitch, kissing it, nearly

swallowing it, but the cold medal did not yield…

Date: 2015-12-11; view: 712