Delay at this point was because the immediate prospect was so deeply uninviting.

With fumbling fingers Harry started to remove his many layers of clothing.

Where "chivalry" entered into this, he thought ruefully, he was not entirely sure, unless it

Counted as chivalrous that he was not calling for Hermione to do it in his stead.

An owl hooted somewhere as he stripped off, and he thought with a pang of

Hedwig. He was shivering now, his teeth chattering horribly, and yet he continued to

Strip off until at last he stood there in his underwear, barefooted in the snow. He placed

the pouch containing his wand, his mother's letter, the shard of Sirius's mirror, and the old

Snitch on top of his clothes, then he pointed Hermione's wand at the ice.

"Diffindo."

It cracked with a sound like a bullet in the silence. The surface of the pool broke

And chunks of dark ice rocked on the ruffled water. As far as Harry could judge, it was

Not deep, but to retrieve the sword he would have to submerge himself completely.

Contemplating the task ahead would not make it easier or the water warmer. He

stepped to the pool's edge and placed Hermione's wand on the ground still lit. Then,

Trying not to imagine how much colder he was about to become or how violently he

Would soon be shivering, he jumped.

Every pore of his body screamed in protest. The very air in his lungs seemed to

Freeze solid as he was submerged to his shoulders in the frozen water. He could hardly

breathe: trembling so violently the water lapped over the edges of the pool, he felt for the

Blade with his numb feet. He only wanted to dive once.

Harry put off the moment of total submersion from second to second, gasping and

Shaking, until he told himself that it must be done, gathered all his courage, and dived.

The cold was agony: It attacked him like fire. His brain itself seemed to have

Frozen as he pushed through the dark water to the bottom and reached out, groping for the

Sword. His fingers closed around the hilt; he pulled it upward.

Then something closed tight around his neck. He thought of water weeds, though

Nothing had brushed him as he dived, and raised his hand to free himself. It was not

weed: The chain of the Horcrux had tightened and was slowly constricting his windpipe.

Harry kicked out wildly, trying to push himself back to the surface, but merely

Propelled himself into the rocky side of the pool. Thrashing, suffocating, he scrabbled at

The strangling chain, his frozen fingers unable to loosen it, and now little lights were

Popping inside his head, and he was going to drown, there was nothing left, nothing he

could do, and the arms that closed around his chest were surely Death's....

Choking and retching, soaking and colder than he had ever been in his life, he

Came to facedown in the snow. Somewhere, close by, another person was panting and

Coughing and staggering around, as she had come when the snake attacked....Yet it did

Not sound like her, not with those deep coughs, no judging by the weight of the

Footsteps....

Harry had no strength to lift his head and see his savior's identity. All he could do

Date: 2015-12-11; view: 787