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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 rock nike air max wright y 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 was raise a shaking hand
to his throat and feel the place where the locket had cut tightly into
his flesh. It was gone. Someone had cut him free. Then a panting voice
spoke from over his head. "Are -- you -- mental?" Nothing but
the shock of hearing that voice could have given Harry the strength to
get up. Shivering violently, he staggered to his feet. There before him
stood Ron, fully dressed but drenched to the skin, his hair plastered
to his face, the sword of Gryffindor in one hand and the Horcrux
dangling from its broken chain in the other. "Why the hell,"
panted Ron, holding up the Horcrux, which swung backward and forward on
its shortened chain in some parody of hypnosis, "didn't you take the
thing off before you dived?" Harry could not answer. The silver doe
was nothing, nothing compared with Ron's reappearance; he could not
bel Air Max 2011 ieve it. Shuddering with cold, he caught up the pile
of clothes still lying at the water's edge and began to pull them on.
As he dragged sweater after sweater over his head, Harry stared at Ron,
half expecting him to have disappeared every time he lost sight of him,
and yet he had to be real: He had just dived into the pool, he had
saved Harry's life. "It was y-you?" Harry said at last, his teeth
chattering, his voice weaker than usual due to his near-strangulation.
"Well, yeah," said Ron, looking slightly confused. "Y-you cast that
doe?" "What? No, of course not! I thought it was you doing it!" "My
Patronus is a stag." "Oh yeah. I thought it looked differ nike air max
87 ent. No antlers." Harry put Hagrid's pouch back around his
neck, pulled on a final sweater, stooped to pick up Hermione's wand,
and faced Ron again. "How come you're here?" Apparently Ron had
hoped that this point would come up later, if at all. "Well, I've
-- you know -- I've come back. If --" He cleared his throat. "You know.
You still want me." There was a pause, in which the subject of
Ron's departure seemed to rise like a wall between them. Yet he was
here. He had returned. He had just saved Harry's life. Ron looked
down at his hands. He seemed momentarily surprised to see the things he
was holding. "Oh yeah, I got it out," he said, rather
unnecessarily, holding up the sword for Harry's inspection. "That's why
you jumped in, right?" "Yeah," said Harry. "But I don't
understand. How did you get here? How did you find us?" "Long
story," said Ron. "I've been looking for you for hours, it's a big
forest, isn't it? And I was just thinking I'd have to go kip under a
tree and wait for morning when I saw that dear coming and you
following." "You didn't see anyone else?" "No," said Ron. "I --"
But he hesitated, glancing at two trees growing close together some
yards away. "I did think I saw something move over there, but I
was running to the pool at the time, because you'd gone in and you
hadn't come up, so I wasn't going to make a detour to -- hey!"
Harry was already hurrying to the place that Ron had indicated. The
two oaks grew close together; there was a gap of only a few inches
between the trunks at eye level, an ideal place to see but not be seen.
The ground around the roots, however, was free of snow, and Harry
could see no sign of footprints. He walked back to where Ron stood
waiting, still holding the sword and the Horcrux. " nike usa online Anything
there?" Ron asked. "No," said Harry. "So how did the sword get in
that pool?" "Whoever cast the Patronus must have put it there."
They both looked at the ornate silver sword, its rubied hilt glinting
a little in the light from Hermione's wand. "You reckon this is the
real one?" asked Ron. "One way to find out, isn't there?" said Harry. nike air max usa
The Horcrux was still swinging from Ron's hand. The locket was
twitching slightly. Harry knew that the thing inside it was agitated
again. It had sensed the presence of the sword and had tried to kill
Harry rather than let him possess it. Now was not the time for long
discussions; now cheap nike air max was
the moment to destroy once and for all. Harry looked around, holding
Hermione's wand high, and saw the place: a flattish rock lying in the
shadow of a sycamore tree. "Come here." he said and he led the way,
brushed snow from the rock's surface, and held out his hand for the
Horcrux. When Ron offered the sword, however, Harry shook his head.
"No you should do it." "Me?" said Ron, looking shocked. "Why?"
"Because you got the sword out of the pool. I think it's supposed to be
you." He was not being kind or generous. As certainly as he had
known that the doe was benign, he knew that Ron had to be the one to
wield the sword. Dumbledore had at least taught Harry something about
certain kinds of magic, of the incalculable power of certain acts.
"I'm going to open it," said Harry, "and you will stab it.
Straightaway okay? Because whatever's in there will put up a fight. The
bit of Riddle in the Diary tried to kill me." "How are you going to
open it?" asked Ron. He looked terrified "I'm going to ask it to
open, using Parseltongue," said Harry. The answer came so readily to
his lips that thought that he had always known it deep down: Perhaps it
had taken his recent encounter with Nagini to make him realize it. He
looked at the serpentine S, inlaid with glittering green stones: It was
easy to visualize it as a miniscule snake, curled upon the cold rock.
"No!" said Ron. "Don't open it! I'm serious!" "Why not?" asked Harry.
"Let's get rid of the damn thing, it's been months --" "I can't,
Harry, I'm serious -- you do it --" "But why?" "Because that
thing's bad for me!" said Ron, backing away from the locket on the
rock. "I can't handle it! I'm not making excuses, for what I was like,
but it affects me worse than it affects you and Hermione, it made me
think stuff -- stuff that I was thinking anyway, but it made everything
worse. I can't explain it, and then I'd take it off and I'd get my
head straight again, and then I'd have to put the effing thing back on
-- I can't do it Harry!" He had backed away, the sword dragging at his
side, shaking his head. "You can do it," said Harry, "you can!
You've just got the sword, I know it's supposed to be you who uses it.
Please just get rid of it Ron." The sound of his name seemed to act
like a stimulant. Ron swallowed, then still breathing hard through his
long nose, moved back toward the rock. "Tell me when," he croaked.
"On three," said Harry, looking back down at the locket and narrowing
his eyes, concentrating on the letter S, imagining a serpent, while
the contents of the locket
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