Up any moment, laughing --

He pointed the wand very carefully into the boy's face: He wanted to see it happen, the

destruction of this one, inexplicable danger. The child began to cry: It had seen that he

Was not James. He did not like it crying, he had never been able to stomach the small

Ones whining in the orphanage --

"Avada Kedavra!"

And then he broke. He was nothing, nothing but pain and terror, and he must hide himself,

Not here in the rubble of the ruined house, where the child was trapped screaming, but far

Away ... far away ...

"No," he moaned.

The snake rustled on the filthy, cluttered floor, and he had killed the boy, and yet he was

The boy ...

"No..."

And now he stood at the broken window of Bathilda's house, immersed in memories of

His greatest loss, and at his feet the great snake slithered over broken china and glass... He

Looked down and saw something... something incredible...

"No..."

"Harry, it's all right, you're all right!"

He stooped down and picked up the smashed photograph. There he was, the unknown

Thief, the thief he was seeking...

"No... I dropped it... I dropped it ..."

"Harry, it's okay, wake up, wake up!"

He was Harry... Harry, not Voldemort ... and the thing that was rustling was not a snake ...

He opened his eyes.

"Harry," Hermione whispered. "Do you feel all -- all right?"

"Yes," he lied.

He was in the tent, lying on one of the lower bunks beneath a heap of blankets. He could

Tell that it was almost dawn by the stillness and quality of the cold, flat light beyond the

Canvas ceiling. He was drenched in sweat; he could feel it on the sheets and blankets.

"We got away."

"Yes," said Hermione. "I had to use a Hover Charm to get you into your bunk. I couldn't

lift you. You've been ... Well, you haven't been quite ..."

There were purple shadows under her brown eyes and he noticed a small sponge in her

hand: She had been wiping his face.

"You've been ill," she finished. "Quite ill."

"How long ago did we leave?"

"Hours ago. It's nearly morning."

"And I've been... what, unconscious?"

"Not exactly," said Hermione uncomfortably. "You've been shouting and moaning and ...

things," she added in a tone that made Harry feel uneasy. What had he done? Screamed

curses like Voldemort, cried like the baby in the crib?

"I couldn't get the Horcrux off you," Hermione said, and he knew she wanted to change

the subject. "It was stuck, stuck to your chest. You've got a mark; I'm sorry, I had to use a

Severing Charm to get it away. The snake hit you too, but I've cleaned the wound and put

some dittany on it ..."

He pulled the sweaty T-shirt he was wearing away from himself and looked down. There

Was a scarlet oval over his heart where the locket had burned him. He could also see the

Half healed puncture marks to his forearm.

"Where've you put the Horcrux?"

"In my bag. I think we should keep it off for a while."

Date: 2015-12-11; view: 881