Hermione dived aside with a shriek; her deflected curse hit the curtained window, whichShattered. Frozen air filled the room as Harry ducked to avoid another shower of broken
Glass and his foot slipped on a pencil-like something -- his wand --
He bent and snatched it up, but now the room was full of the snake, its tail thrashing;
Hermione was nowhere to be seen and for a moment Harry thought the worst, but then
There was a loud bang and a flash of red light, and the snake flew into the air, smacking
Harry hard in the face as it went, coil after heavy coil rising up to the ceiling. Harry
Raised his wand, but as he did so, his scar seared more painfully, more powerfully than it
Had done in years.
"He's coming! Hermione, he's coming!"
As he yelled the snake fell, hissing wildly. Everything was chaos: It smashed shelves
From the wall, and splintered china flew everywhere as Harry jumped over the bed and
Seized the dark shape he knew to be Hermione --
She shrieked with pain as he pulled her back across the bed: The snake reared again, but
Harry knew that worse than the snake was coming, was perhaps already at the gate, his
Head was going to split open with the pain from his scar --
The snake lunged as he took a running leap, dragging Hermione with him; as it struck,
Hermione screamed, "Confringo!" and her spell flew around the room, exploding the
Wardrobe mirror and ricocheting back at them, bouncing from floor to ceiling; Harry felt
The heat of it sear the back of his hand. Glass cut his cheek as, pulling Hermione with him,
He leapt from bed to broken dressing table and then straight out of the smashed window
Into nothingness, her scream reverberating through the night as they twisted in midair ...
And then his scar burst open and he was Voldemort and he was running across the fetid
Bedroom, his long white hands clutching at the windowsill as he glimpsed the bald man
And the little woman twist and vanish, and he screamed with rage, a scream that mingled
with the girl's, that echoed across the dark gardens over the church bells ringing in
Christmas Day...
And his scream was Harry's scream, his pain was Harry's pain... that it could happen here,
Where it had happened before... here, within sight of that house where he had come so
Close to knowing what it was to die ... to die ... the pain was so terrible ... ripped from his
Body ... But if he had no body, why did his head hurt so badly; if he was dead, how cold
he feel so unbearably, didn't pain cease with death, didn't it go ...
The night wet and windy, two children dressed as pumpkins waddling across the square
And the shop windows covered in paper spiders, all the tawdry Muggle trappings of a
World in which they did not believe ... And he was gliding along, that sense of purpose
And power and rightness in him that he always knew on these occasions ... Not anger ...
That was for weaker souls than he ... but triumph, yes ... He had waited for this, he had
Hoped for it ...
"Nice costume, mister!"
He saw the small boy's smile falter as he ran near enough to see beneath the hood of the
cloak, saw the fear cloud his pained face: Then the child turned and ran away ... Beneath
Date: 2015-12-11; view: 675
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