All of Harry Potter and anything related to it are the sole property of J.K. Rowling.
(Each title is derived from a song that, I believe, complements the overall narrative, if not the individual chapter.)
* This Chapter contains snippets of the original chapter from Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows.
The Forest of Dean, 24 December 1997
Harry's Point of View
"Dr. Granger, you can't let her go to him!" I shouted, my voice cutting through the stillness of the dark forest we had landed in. "He's put some kind of spell on her or something!" We all watched as Hermione ran off and vanished from sight, horror gripping me.
"I'm sure he has," Dr. Granger replied, surprising me as he looked away from where she'd disappeared and back at us. "And I'm quite certain it's the same spell she cast on him. Now, come on. We need to keep moving. It's not safe to be out here," he added, his voice steady as he started to walk, urging us to follow.
"But, Dr. Granger..." I started, but Ron cut me off.
"Just leave off for now, yeah? I'm sure Hermione's fine," Ron said, looking a bit frustrated with me again. Rick just followed behind, looking bewildered by the whole situation. I gritted my teeth, knowing exactly who she was with right now. If I told Ron, he'd be right there with me, trying to explain our concerns to Dr. Granger, but of course, my hands were tied at the moment.
The four of us hadn't walked far through the dark, cold forest before we were met by three Centaurs. To my astonishment, Dr. Granger greeted them as calmly as if he were meeting old friends.
"The Lovegoods have proposed that we escort these young wizards and their companion towards their dwelling. Should the peril subside, they may establish their camp there," said one of the Centaurs with a dark mane of hair, addressing Dr. Granger directly. He and the others wore long cloaks draped over their horse bodies to protect them from the cold, with various weapons strapped across their chests and backs.
"Luna's here?" Ron blurted out, his face lighting up with excitement at the idea.
"Yes," Dr. Granger responded, his voice steady and sure.
"Peril? What peril?" I asked, my curiosity piqued, even though weariness clung to me like a shadow. I wondered what else I had to face tonight. I had already had Voldemort in my mind, and the headache still lingered. Now, on top of that, I had to worry about one of my best friends being... well, I refused to think about what they might be doing, but the fact that she was with a Death Eater was too much to bear.
"The stars have foretold that you carry with you an object of immense malevolence," came the response. Ron and I exchanged a look. We both knew exactly what that meant.
"Mione's bag," Ron said, his eyes moving to the familiar beaded handbag in her dad's hands. Dr. Granger looked down at it, then handed it over to Ron without a word. "Er, there really isn't much we can do about it, though. It's in our tent, and Hermione's got all sorts of wards over it so it can't do anything. But we've got no clue how to get rid of it," Ron told everyone.
The youngest of the Centaurs, his voice calm and authoritative, declared to the others, "If that is so, I shall escort the young one within the protection of our enchantments."
"I concur. It is not safe out here," said the Centaur with the dark mane. The third of the group nodded in agreement.
"I don't want to leave Harry and Ron," Rick protested right away.
"The Lovegoods shall depart for a Christmas gathering with the Weasley family on the morrow. They have extended an invitation for you all to travel with them," the Centaur replied.
"I don't believe they were referring to me," Rick murmured, his voice a mix of defeat and reluctant acceptance.
"I told you, mate. My folks will love you," Ron said, slapping him on the shoulder. "Let these blokes take you to safety for the night, and we'll see you again in the morning."
Rick looked at him for a long moment, then glanced over and met my eyes. I gave a nod, and his shoulders sagged before he gave a reluctant nod himself. I don't think he believed Ron when he said we'd see him again, and I couldn't blame the kid. I knew what it was like to be alone and lonely, but at least I'd never been homeless. I had to give my aunt and uncle that much credit. Rick took the Centaur's outstretched hand, and they both walked away, quickly disappearing from sight.
"We shall guide you to an area nearer to the dwelling of the Lovegoods. It will ease your journey on the morrow," said the one who'd stayed quiet until now.
"What about Hermione?" I demanded, worry edging my voice. I couldn't bear the thought of leaving her behind. Her dad turned and shot me an annoyed look over his shoulder, his brow furrowed in frustration.
"My daughter will spend Christmas with her family. Her mother and I have missed her terribly, as have others. I can assure you, she will be infinitely safer here than wherever you have been dragging her off to," he said, his voice slightly rising with anger by the end.
"Dr. Granger, I…"
"Save it," the man said, holding up his hand to stop my words. "I know it was her foolish decision. And yes, I know the argument about her being an adult, but I don't bloody care. Children, especially my child, should not be fighting wars!"
"My friend," the Centaur with the dark mane said, putting a comforting hand on Dr. Granger's shoulder. "War affects us all, regardless of age, yet I comprehend your fears. Each night, I gaze upon the heavens, seeking answers and the promise of a brighter future for my own offspring. Take solace and breathe deeply, for tonight, your daughter is safe and under your protection once more. No harm shall befall her this night."
Nodding and letting out a sigh that seemed to lift some of the weight off his shoulders, he replied, "You're right."
But the Centaur's words did little to calm the storm of worries swirling in my mind.
The five of us trudged silently through the snow-covered forest floor, our footsteps muffled by the thick blanket of white. For Ron and me, the woods were an unfamiliar maze, making the hour-long walk feel even more daunting. The eerie stillness of the forest was only broken by the occasional rustle of unseen creatures.
"This place lies near the dwelling of the Lovegoods. Have you means to shield yourselves?" asked the Centaur, that I had come to believe was the leader, addressing the two of us.
"Hermione taught us the spells," Ron told them softly. Dr. Granger and the two Centaurs nodded at that.
"Do you want to start on that while I set up the tent?" I asked Ron. He nodded and headed off just as a House Elf appeared. I didn't hear the usual pop, so I figured he must have been quietly following us the whole time.
"Hello, Jomny," Dr. Granger greeted the small creature right away. The House Elf wasn't dressed warmly enough for the weather, but at least he had something vaguely resembling leather covering his feet.
"Hello, sir. Jomny is enquiring as to when he can take his Lady's bag to her," the House Elf said, his voice polite and respectful as he spoke to the man.
"We must ensure that no evil breaches our land, esteemed Elf. I also believe the young wizards require their belongings from within. Once that is accomplished, I see no issue with you taking her the bag," the Centaur replied before Dr. Granger could, but his tone was so calm that I was sure he wouldn't have taken offence.
"I know you. You're the House Elf who dragged me out of bed the night of the attack at Hogwarts so I could let Hermione into the dorm," Ron exclaimed.
"Hermione owns a House Elf," I mumbled in annoyed disbelief as I pulled the tent poles from the bag. I felt like the whole world was going mad. Hermione hated the ownership of House Elves; she thought it was a form of slavery. My worry for her grew again, knowing something just wasn't right with this picture.
"Jomny is not owned. Jomny is bonded to Lady Hermione," the little Elf said, clearly offended by my tone. I looked up at him in surprise, and even Ron glanced over and frowned at him in confusion.
Dr. Granger drew my gaze toward him as he explained, "He's very protective of Hermione and despises it when people assume he's a slave."
"House Elves are not slaves," the little House Elf said with a firm nod.
"Right," I said sarcastically, remembering Dobby. Then it hit me that this House Elf came from the same home as Dobby. I shook my head and started setting up the tent while Dr. Granger kindly stepped in to help.
"House Elves are not slaves," the House Elf repeated, and I could hear the annoyance in his voice. "They work in concert with the shared power of their family home, or the witch or wizard they are bonded to."
"You knew Dobby, didn't you?" I asked the creature, surprised when his features twisted in distaste.
"Dobby was a bad House Elf. Dobby was wrong from the moment he came to us, and even when Dobby bonded to his Master, Dobby still defied his wishes. Dobby is a bad House Elf, and Dobby will never be truly right. What is wrong with Dobby will always be wrong," the House Elf stated, and right then, I could truly believe this creature was a servant of an evil family.
"Dobby is my friend!" I told the House Elf, my voice filled with hatred.
"Jomny is sorry for you, then, because Dobby will never be what you need him to be. Dobby is too broken," the House Elf said, sounding sad about it, but I didn't believe he really felt that way.
"Dobby…" I started, but the Centaur cut me off.
"I perceive that this matter holds great importance to you, young wizard, but our priority must be to ensure your safety and that of your friend. Snatchers roam these woods frequently," he said.
I looked over at Ron, who was watching my exchange with the House Elf with wide eyes. He met mine for a moment with speculation in his own but then turned back to putting up the protection spells. I took a deep breath and went back to setting up the tent. They hadn't said it, but I figured everyone here wanted a look at the Horcrux, and I wasn't completely sure that was such a good idea.
By the time the tent was up, it had started snowing, and I was still feeling shaky from having Voldemort in my mind so recently. The ground felt hard and frozen under my feet as I stood outside the tent, unsure of what to do. Ron came and stood by me. We both looked at the two remaining Centaurs, Dr. Granger, and the House Elf.
"This is where Haven is, isn't it?" I asked. I'd suspected it from the moment Dr. Granger appeared, and knowing the Lovegoods were here kind of confirmed it. The only thing that threw me off was knowing Draco Malfoy was here too. I couldn't imagine the self-centred git helping anyone if it didn't benefit him somehow. Selflessness wasn't a term I believed Malfoy understood.
"Er, where are we exactly?" Ron asked, looking around the dark forest before turning back to Hermione's dad.
"The Forest of Dean," Dr. Granger said, looking around at the dark trees thoughtfully and rubbing his covered arms for warmth against the cold wind. The two Centaurs nodded in agreement. The House Elf clicked his fingers, and Hermione's dad smiled at him. "Thank you, Jomny. It truly is quite cold out here."
"You're welcome, sir," the House Elf replied easily, but I still didn't trust the creature that belonged to the Malfoy family and thought Dobby was a bad House Elf.
I felt jittery and on edge, and every sound of movement around us from innocent scurrying and prowling creatures in the dark seemed to magnify my unease. Even with two men, two Centaurs and a House Elf right in front of me, I couldn't shake the feeling that Voldemort was close by. I had to remind myself that I would feel it in my scar if he was, but that knowledge barely helped.
"What is that? Is that more magic from the Offering?" Dr. Granger asked. We all turned to see where he was looking. A bright silver light appeared right ahead of us, moving through the trees. Whatever the source, it was moving soundlessly. The light seemed simply to drift toward us.
"No, this is something different," the Centaur answered him, his voice calm and serene.
Heart pounding, I raised my wand, ready for a new threat, even though the Centaurs didn't seem worried. I screwed up my eyes as the light became blinding, the trees in front of it pitch black in silhouette, and still the thing came closer...
And then the source of the light stepped out from behind an oak. It was a silver-white doe, moon-bright and dazzling, picking her way over the ground, still silent, and leaving no hoof prints in the fine powdering of snow. She stepped towards us, her beautiful head with its wide, long-lashed eyes held high, and didn't stop until she was directly in front of me.
I stared at the creature, filled with wonder, not at her strangeness but at her inexplicable familiarity. I felt that I had been waiting for her to come, but that I had somehow forgotten, until this moment, that we arranged to meet.
"What is that?" Dr. Granger asked, sounding awed.
"Patronus," Ron said, sounding just as impressed.
"It's beautiful," the Muggle man breathed. I ignored the conversation, focusing on the doe as we gazed at each other for several long moments before she turned and walked away.
"No," I said, "come back!" But she didn't listen and continued to step deliberately through the trees, and soon her brightness was stripped by their thick, black trunks. For one trembling second, I hesitated. Caution murmured: it could be a trick, a lure, a trap. But instinct, overwhelming instinct, told me this was not dark magic. I knew no dark magic could produce a Patronus. I set off in pursuit, and the others followed close behind.
Snow crunched beneath my feet, but the doe made no noise as she passed through the trees, for she was nothing but light. We didn't have far to go until we came to a small, frozen pool, its cracked, black surface glistening for a moment before the Patronus sank down into it.
"Lumos!" I whispered, and my wand tip ignited.
I moved further forward rather cautiously and looked down. The ice reflected my distorted shadow and the beam of wand light, but deep below the thick, misty grey carapace, something else glinted. A great silver cross...
My heart skipped into my mouth: I dropped to my knees at the pool's edge and angled the wand so as to flood the bottom of the pool with as much light as possible. A glint of deep red... It was a sword with glittering rubies in its hilt... The sword of Gryffindor was lying at the bottom of the forest pool.
"Is that what I think it is?" Ron whispered, startling me. I had forgotten he and the others were so close by.
"The sword of Gryffindor," I breathed, nodding.
"A powerful omen indeed," commented the quieter of the two Centaurs.
"How is this possible?" Ron asked.
"I don't know," I said, unable to look away from the sword lying in the icy water.
"How could it have come to be lying in a forest pool?" Ron asked.
"I don't know," I repeated, wondering that myself.
"Is the doe some kind of guardian for this pool? Or is someone here leading us to it?" Ron asked with worry in his voice, and we both looked up and around the dark area. I shrugged, having no answers, but I continued to gaze around, searching for a human outline, for the glint of an eye, but I could see no one else besides those already here.
"Accio sword," I said, pointing my wand at the silvery shape in the frozen water. It did not stir. I hadn't really expected it to. If it had been that easy, the sword would have lain on the ground for us to pick it up, not in the depths of a frozen pool.
"Someone's got to get it, don't they?" Ron said, looking down at the sword. The two Centaurs and Dr. Granger were also standing at the pool's edge, staring at it silently. The House Elf had disappeared again.
"Yes," I agreed, shivering as I remembered the cold and trepidation from my past swimming experiences.
Taking a breath, Ron said, "Let me, Harry. I know you hate swimming. I can do this."
I looked at my friend with surprise but also gratitude. I thought about how far apart we'd grown recently, knowing that it was my fault, but his offer gave me hope that all was not lost. That I still had my best friend despite how angry he was with me, and by the way he looked at me now, I knew this was important to him. I understood that if I didn't let him do this, we might never mend what had become so fragile.
"Are you sure?" I asked, anyway. I knew that frozen water was going to be torture.
"I can do this," he repeated.
At my nod, he started to undress, and I walked further out onto the pond. An owl hooted somewhere far off as I pointed my wand at the surface of the ice and said, "Diffindo."
It cracked with the sound of a bullet in the silence: the surface of the pool broke, and chunks of dark ice rocked on a ruffled water. As far as I could judge, it was not deep, but to retrieve the sword Ron would have to submerge himself completely.
I looked back to see Dr. Granger holding all of Ron's things. In just his underwear, Ron moved towards me. With a grin full of courage, he stepped into the water and dropped straight to the bottom. I watched as he wrapped his hand around the hilt of the sword and came up sputtering just a moment later. He tossed the sword onto the ice and quickly hefted himself back out, shivering all the while.
"Circe's ice-cold nipples! I reckon I'm frozen in places I didn't think it was possible to be frozen," Ron swore, making all of us laugh. I grinned at him as I pointed my wand, casting a heating spell.
"Thanks," he muttered with chattering teeth. "But remind me how mental I am next time I volunteer for something like this." Dr. Granger quickly brought over his clothes, and the Centaurs moved closer, staring down at the sword.
"Is that real?" Dr. Granger asked, looking down at the sword on the hard ice. We all looked down at it too.
"It's real alright, but the real question is if it's really the Sword of Gryffindor or just a fake," Ron said as he kept pulling his clothes on. He was still shivering, so I pulled out the spare sweater I kept in the pouch Hagrid had given me that hung around my neck. "Cheers, mate," he said, dragging it over his head. The sweater was overly large on me but a bit short on him. Once he had his shoes back on, he picked up the sword and offered it to me, but I had a feeling he should keep it for now. I shook my head. He shrugged and let it swing at his side in his hand.
"There's a way we could be sure, but we'd need Hermione," I said to Ron, then looked at Dr. Granger. He opened his mouth to reply, but then the House Elf appeared at his side again.
"Jomny has looked at his Lady's wards and knows he can remove them if that is all you are needing her for."
"Thank you, Jomny," Hermione's dad said gratefully. I frowned at the creature, not liking that he had been inside our tent. I was just glad we didn't store anything inside of it. We all walked back to the tent in silence and went inside. It felt incredibly cramped with two Centaurs blocking the entrance.
"That's the evil?" Dr. Granger asked curiously as he moved closer. He tried to touch the visible ward, but his hand just slid off it.
"Yes," I answered, looking at the Horcrux that still sat in the middle of the table.
"Would you like Jomny to take down the wards now?" the little House Elf asked me.
I was quiet for a moment, wondering if I trusted this creature not to take off with the Horcrux. Distrust was becoming such a familiar feeling within me, and I hated it. I wanted to be able to trust again, to believe in my friends without feeling this sickness inside.
As I stared at the Horcrux, I remembered the night Sirius died. Grief swelled up, but that wasn't what I focused on. It was the battle between Dumbledore and Voldemort. The power those two wizards had was immense. I knew that even though I might have the potential to be just as powerful one day, right now, I held only a fraction of that power. And I understood that there was no way I could win this war without my friends.
I remembered how that night Voldemort thought he could win by possessing me. He might have if I hadn't been protected still from the love I held and possessed from all those I knew loved me and who I loved in return. I may have scoffed when Dumbledore claimed my real power was love, but I couldn't deny that it had hurt Voldemort. My grief and love were things he could never understand.
Looking at Ron now, I knew it was his love, the love of a best friend and brother, that made him jump into that frozen pool to retrieve a sword that might not even be real. I also looked at Hermione's dad and the House Elf. I hadn't spent much time with Dr. Granger, but I knew he was good and very protective of Hermione. Even though I was scared for my best friend, I couldn't see how she had been hurt—Malfoy had had plenty of time for that, and Dr. Granger looked unharmed and unchanged from the man I had met on a few occasions.
I remembered hearing somewhere once that love meant taking risks, to invest in a hope greater than yourself. Right now, I decided to take the risk of believing in the love Hermione had always given easily to me. I decided to trust that my best friend wouldn't betray me like one of my parents' best friends had betrayed them.
With a gulp of fear, I nodded. The House Elf waved his hand, and the wards fell. Every one of us shivered as the aura of evil reached us and watched as the thing twitched on the table.
"It didn't do that before," Ron commented.
"I think maybe it senses the sword," I replied.
"I believe you are right, young wizard, and I believe the sooner it is destroyed, the better," the Centaur leader said.
I walked over to the table and picked up the locket by its chain. We all then retreated out of the tent, moving much faster than when we entered. Dr. Granger, I noticed, stood back with the Centaurs, clearly not wanting to be close to the Horcrux at all.
There was a hard, rocky patch of land not far from the tent. I placed the Horcrux down before turning back to Ron, who still had the sword in his hand. He lifted it to pass to me, but I shook my head again.
"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." I wasn't being kind or generous. Just as certainly as I had known that the doe was benign, I knew that Ron had to be the one to wield the sword. Dumbledore had at least taught me something about certain kinds of magic, of the incalculable power of certain acts.
"I'm going to open it," I said. "And you stab it. Straight away, 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, and I felt the same way.
"I'm going to ask it to open. Using Parseltongue," I said. The answer came so readily to my lips that I realised I had always known it deep down. Perhaps it had taken my recent encounter with Nagini to make me realise it. I looked at the serpentine 'S' that lay on the large green stone; it was easy to visualise it as a real minuscule snake, curled upon the cold rock.
"No," said Ron, stopping me, and I looked at him in surprise and confusion. I was so sure he would have wanted this; I knew he never meant anything by it, but he liked a bit of glory for himself. "Not until you tell me why?"
"Because, like I said, it has to be you, but also because… that thing is bad for me," I admitted, hanging my head in shame at that truth. "I'm not trying to make excuses, but I let that thing affect me worse than either you or Hermione did." I had forgotten about our audience until the crunch of snow underfoot drew my attention to Dr. Granger and the Centaurs, who were watching us. I looked back at Ron, knowing I needed to say this, even though I was embarrassed.
"It made me think things, things I was already thinking, but it made everything worse. And whenever I'd dream, I'd see what Riddle was seeing. More and more, when I'd wake up, I couldn't tell if I was him or if he was me. I know he's searching for a particular wand he thinks is important, but he's frustrated because he can't find it."
Ron gave me an interested look at that, and I nodded at him as I kept talking. "Then I'd take it off and try to get my head straight again. But then I'd have to put the thing back on, and it all came rushing back. Everything I've lost. Everyone I've lost. And then Hermione…" I shook my head and sighed in defeat. "I didn't think I could risk it, and I knew I couldn't handle it if she really did betray us. Like Pettigrew betrayed my parents."
"You can't really think she'd do that? I know you're keeping who she married from me for some reason I don't get, but I just can't believe it could be as bad as you're making it out to be," Ron said, disbelief clear in his voice. My eyes met Dr. Granger's again as guilt flooded me at Ron's words. I didn't know how to answer that, not with her father so close and listening so intently.
"Will you do this or not?" I asked Ron, not answering his question.
"I'll do it," Ron said. He looked down at the rock and swallowed. Still breathing hard through his long nose, he moved closer to it with determination in his stride. "Tell me when," he said.
"On three," I replied. Looking back down at the locket and narrowing my eyes, concentrating on the little snake, imagining it was a real serpent, while the contents of the locket rattled like a trapped cockroach.
"One… Two… Three… open." The last word came out as a hiss and a snarl that made Dr. Granger jump as though startled, and the silver doors of the locket swung open with a little click.
Behind both the glass windows within blinked a living eye, dark and handsome as Tom Riddle's eyes had been before he turned them scarlet and slit-pupiled.
"Stab," I said, moving back from the locket. Ron raised the sword in his shaking hands; the point dangled over the frantically swivelling eyes. I imagined blood would be pouring from the empty windows in moments.
Then a voice hissed from out of the Horcrux. "I have seen your heart, and it is mine."
"Don't listen to it!" I said harshly. "Stab it!"
"I have seen your dreams, Ronald Weasley, and I have seen your fears. All your desires are possible, but all that you dread is also possible…"
"Stab!" I shouted, my voice echoing off the surrounding trees. The sword point trembled as Ron gazed down into Riddle's eyes.
"Least loved, always, by the mother who craved a daughter… Second best, always. Eternally overshadowed by people who claim to be your friends. Friends who do not even trust you… Cruel in the eyes of the first girl you shared your body with…"
"Ron, stab it now!" I bellowed. I could see the locket quivering on the rock. Ron raised the sword even higher, and as he did, Riddle's eyes gleamed scarlet. Out of the locket's two windows, out of the eyes, there bloomed, like two grotesque bubbles, the heads of me and Hermione, weirdly distorted.
"Dear God," I heard Dr. Granger cry, while the Centaurs snorted and pawed the ground in distress.
Ron yelled in shock and backed away as the figures blossomed out of the locket, first chests, then waists, then legs, until they stood in the locket, side by side like trees with a common root, swaying over Ron.
"Ron!" I shouted, but the Riddle-Harry was now speaking with Voldemort's voice, and Ron was gazing, mesmerised, into its face.
"You're useless. We'd be better off without you. Happier without you. What can you do that I can't?"
"Why would I tell you my secrets? Why would I trust you? You, who never tried at anything. You, who lets girls they have feelings for go because it is easier than saying how you really feel," said Riddle-Hermione.
"Who are you compared to me, compared to the chosen one? What are you compared to the Boy Who Lived?" Riddle-Harry said with scorn.
"Ron, stab it, STAB IT!" I yelled desperately, but Ron did not move: his eyes were wide, and the Riddle-Harry and the Riddle-Hermione were reflected in them, their hair swirling like flames, their eyes shining red, the voices lifted in an evil duet.
"Your mother confessed," sneered Riddle-Harry, while Riddle-Hermione jeered and another bubble head began to form, "that she would have preferred me as a son, would be glad to exchange…" In moments, Lavender's distorted image joined the figures of me and Hermione as another bubble appeared at the root of the figures.
"You are so cruel, Ronald Weasley! I am telling everyone, even now, how you hurt and betrayed me," Riddle-Lavender spoke, and my mouth dropped open in disbelief and bafflement. A whimper, filled with pain and fear, escaped the throat of my best friend.
"Don't listen to it, Ron! It's not Lavender," I yelled, but he didn't seem to hear me.
Luna had joined the trio of distorted images now, but she was more beautiful and terrible than the real Luna: she swayed with the others, though she cackled before saying, "Do you really believe I could ever want you? Lavender has told everyone about you—about how you hurt witches and toy with their feelings. What witch would ever truly want you, what witch would take you? You're nothing, Ron Weasley," crooned Riddle-Luna with a haunting calm.
"Ron, don't listen!" I yelled, not noticing at first the change in the expression on my best friend's face. Ron looked at me, and I thought I saw a trace of scarlet in his eyes. Then he let out a roar of rage, and the sword plunged down with a clang of metal. I had seen the locket try to shoot away, but Ron was too fast and forceful, catching it with the edge of the blade. A long, drawn-out scream echoed around us, and for a moment the world seemed to become darker. As my eyes adjusted again, I realised it had just been the extinguished light from the Horcrux.
With my wand drawn, I looked around to see a horrified Dr. Granger and two unsettled Centaurs. Ron stood a short distance from me, the sword held slackly in his hand, looking down at the shattered remains of the locket on the rocky ground. Snow was still falling softly to the dark forest floor, standing out sharply against the fear and anxiety that still gripped us.
Slowly, I walked back to him, hardly knowing what to say or do. His eyes were no longer red at all, just their normal blue. They were wet, but he also looked furious.
"Luna would never call me 'Ron,'" he said, wrath in his voice.
"I know, mate," I said, feeling a wave of relief crash over me.
"Bloody hell! Is that what you've been exposing my daughter to?!" I heard Dr. Granger demand, his voice filled with fury and fear. Ron and I shared a pained look, knowing the man didn't know the half of it.
"We must leave this place, young wizards, or we shall encounter even more troubles this night," the Centaur leader warned with fear evident in his voice and his wide dark eyes reflecting the moonlight. The House Elf, who had been hanging back and invisible until now, packed our tent in a moment. We were then invited to enter the protected land claimed as Haven.
Author's notes: - I am in no way saying that Dobby isn't Harry's friend in the truest sense of the word, because I do think he is. However, from the viewpoint of other House Elves, he is not right. House Elves like to take orders and care for their families, even if they have the ability to make their own choices. I simply think most don't care to, especially if they are treated well. Dobby's problem is that his sense of independence is much stronger than that of other House Elves. So, even though he initially agreed to bond with Lucius Malfoy, he didn't agree with most of his views, leading to an abusive relationship between the two. I also don't think Lucius ever had the same kind of relationship with Dobby that Draco has with Jomny. And although Narcissa is kinder to her House Elf, it came much later in life and resembles the way a noble lady would treat a lady's maid.
: - Rkook1210, I thank you for leaving a comment on my last chapter and hope you are still out there and doing well. Thank you to all of those out there who read my stories.