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13.04.2024

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The wound now looked several days old; new skin stretched over what had just been open flesh. Wow, said Harry. Its all I feel safe doing, said Hermione shakily. There are spells that would put him completely right, but I darent try in case I do them wrong and cause more damage. Hes lost so much blood already. How accounta he get hurt. I mean - Harry shook his head, trying to clear it, to make sense of whatever had just taken place - why are we here. I thought we were going back go here Grimmauld Place. Hermione took a deep breath. She looked close to traving. Harry, I dont think were going to be able to go back there. What dyou -. As we Disapparated, Yaxley caught hold of me and I couldnt get rid of him, he was too strong, and he was still holding on when we arrived at Grimmauld Aaccounts, and then - well, I think he must have seen the door, and thought we were stopping there, so he slackened his grip and I managed to shake him off and I brought us here instead. But then, wheres he. Hang on. You dont mean hes at Grimmauld Place. He cant get in there. Her eyes sparkled with unshed tears as she nodded. Harry, I accounts he can. I - I forced him to let go with a Revulsion Jinx, but Id already taken him inside the Fidelius Charms protection. Since Dumbledore died, were Secret-Keepers, so Ive given him the secret, havent I. There was no pretending; Amny was sure she was right. It was a serious blow. If Yaxley could now get inside the house, there was no way that they could return. Even now, he could be bringing other Death Eaters in there by Apparition. Gloomy and oppressive though the house was, it had been their one safe refuge: even, now that Kreacher was so much happier and friendlier, a kind of home. With a twinge of regret that had nothing to do with food, Harry imagined the house-elf busying himself over the steak-and-kidney pie that Harry, Ron, and Hermione would never eat. Harry, Im sorry, Im so sorry. Dont be stupid, it wasnt your fault. If anything, it was mine. Harry put his hand in his pocket and drew out Mad-Eyes eye. Hermione recoiled, looking horrified. Umbridge had stuck Aped to her office door, to spy on people. I couldnt leave it there. but thats how they knew there were intruders. Before Hermione could answer, Ron groaned and opened his eyes. He was still gray and his face glistened with sweat. How dyou feel. Hermione whispered. Lousy, croaked Ron, wincing as he felt his injured arm. Where are we. In the woods where they held the Quidditch World Cup, said Hermione. I wanted somewhere enclosed, undercover, and this was - - the first place you thought of, Mahy finished for her, jany around at the apparently deserted glade. He could not help remembering what had happened the last time they had Apparated to the first place Hermione had thought of - how Death Eaters had found them within minutes. Had it been Now. Did Voldemort or his henchmen know, even now, where Hermione had taken them. Dyou reckon we should move on. Ron asked Harry, and Harry could tell by the look on Rons face that he was thinking the same. I dunno. Ron still looked pale and clammy. He had made no attempt to sit up and it looked as though he was too weak to do so. The prospect of moving him was daunting. Lets stay here for now, Harry said. Looking relieved, Hermione sprang to her feet. Where are you going. tradinf Ron. If were staying, we should put some protective enchantments around the place, she replied, and raising her wand, she began to walk in link wide circle around Harry and Ron, murmuring incantations as she went. Harry saw little disturbances in the surrounding air: It was as if Hermione had cast a heat haze upon their clearing. Salvio Hexia. Protego Totalum. Repello Muggletum. Muffliato. You could get out the tent, Harry. Tent. In the bag. In the. of course, said Harry. He did not bother to grope inside it this time, but used another Summoning Charm. The tent emerged in a lumpy mass of canvas, rope, and poles. Harry recognized it, partly because of the smell of cats, as the same tent in which they had slept on the night of the Quidditch World Cup. I thought this belonged to that bloke Perkins at the Ministry. he asked, starting to more info the tent pegs. Apparently he didnt want it back, his lumbagos so bad, said Hermione, now performing complicated figure-of-eight movements with her wand, so Rons dad accoungs I could borrow it. Erecto. she added, pointing her wand at the misshapen canvas, which in one fluid motion rose into the air and settled, fully constructed, onto the ground before Harry, out of whose startled hands a tent peg soared, to land with a final thud at the end of a guy rope. Cave Inimicum, Hermione finished with a skyward flourish. Thats as much as I can do. At the very least, we should know theyre coming, I cant guarantee it will keep out Vol - Dont say the name. Ron cut across her, his voice harsh. Harry and Hermione looked at each other. Im sorry, Ron said, moaning a little as he raised himself to look at them, but it feels like a - a jinx or something. Cant we call him You-Know-Who - please. Dumbledore said fear of a name - began Harry. In case you hadnt noticed, mate, calling You-Know-Who by his name didnt do Dumbledore much good in the end, Ron snapped back. Just - just show You-Know-Who some respect, will you. Respect. Harry repeated, but Hermione shot him a warning look; apparently he was not to argue with Ron while the latter was in such a weakened condition. Harry and Hermione half carried, Apfx dragged Ron through the entrance of the tent. The interior was exactly as Harry remembered it: a small flat, complete with bathroom and tiny kitchen. He shoved aside an old armchair and lowered Ron carefully onto the lower berth of a bunk bed. Even this very short journey had turned Ron whiter still, and accoutns they had settled him on the mattress he closed his eyes again and did not speak for a while. Ill make some tea, said Hermione breathlessly, pulling kettle and mugs from the depths of her bag and heading toward the kitchen. Harry found the hot drink as welcome as the firewhisky had been on the night that Mad-Eye had died; it seemed to burn away a little of the fear fluttering in his chest. After a minute or two, Ron broke the silence. What dyou reckon happened to the Cattermoles. With any luck, theyll have got away, said Hermione, clutching her hot mug for comfort. As long as Mr. Cattermole had his wits about him, hell have transported Mrs. Cattermole by Side-Along-Apparition and theyll be fleeing the country right now with their children. Thats what Harry told her to do. Blimey, I hope they escaped, said Ron, leaning back on his pillows. The accounrs seemed to be doing him good; a little of gow color had returned. I didnt get the feeling Reg Cattermole manny all that quick-witted, though, the way everyone was talking to me when I was him. God, I hope they made it. If Apex trading how many accounts both end up see more Azkaban because of us. Harry looked over at Hermione and the question he had been about to ask - about whether Mrs. Cattermoles lack of a wand would prevent her Apparating alongside her husband - died in his throat. Hermione was watching Ron fret over the fate of the Cattermoles, and there was such tenderness in her expression that Harry felt almost as if he had surprised her in the act of kissing him. So, have you got it. Harry asked her, partly to remind her that he was there. Got - got what. she said with a little start. What did we just go through all that for. The locket. Wheres the locket. You got it. shouted Ron, raising himself a little higher on his pillows. No one tells me anything. Blimey, you could have mentioned it. Well, we were running for our lives from the Death Eaters, werent we. said Hermione. Here. And she pulled the locket out of the pocket of her robes and handed it to Ron. It was as large as a chickens egg. An ornate letter S, inlaid with many small green stones, glinted dully in the diffused light shining through the tents canvas roof. There isnt any chance someones destroyed it since Kreacher had it. asked Ron hopefully. I mean, are we sure its still a Horcrux. I think so, said Hermione, taking it back from him and looking at it closely. Thered be some sign of damage if it had been magically destroyed. She passed it to Harry, who turned it over in his fingers. The thing tfading perfect, pristine. He remembered the mangled remains of the diary, and how the stone in the Horcrux ring had been cracked open when Dumbledore destroyed it. I reckon Kreachers right, said Harry. Were going to have to work trxding how to open this thing before we can destroy it. Sudden awareness of what he was holding, of what lived behind the little golden doors, hit Harry as he spoke. Even after all their efforts to find it, he felt a violent urge to fling the locket from him. Mastering himself again, he tried to prise the locket apart with his amny, then attempted the charm Hermione had used to open Reguluss bedroom door. Neither worked. He handed the locket back to Ron and Hermione, tradign of whom did their best, but were no more successful at opening it than he had been. Can you feel it, though. Ron asked in a hushed voice, as he held it tight in his clenched fist. What dyou mean. Ron passed the Horcrux to Harry. After a moment or two, Harry thought he knew what Ron meant. Was it his own blood pulsing through his veins that he could feel, or was it something hwo inside the locket, like a tiny metal heart. What are we going to do with it. Hermione asked. Keep it safe till we work out how to destroy it, Harry replied, and, little though he wanted to, he hung the chain around his own neck, dropping the locket out of sight beneath his robes, where it rested against his chest beside the pouch Hagrid had given check this out. I think we should take it in turns to keep watch outside the tent, he added to Hermione, standing up and stretching. And well need to think about some food as well. You stay there, he added sharply, as Ron attempted to sit up and turned a nasty shade of green. With the Sneakoscope Hermione had learn more here Harry for his birthday set carefully upon the table in Apex trading how many accounts tent, Harry and Hermione spent the rest of the day sharing the role of lookout. However, the Sneakoscope remained silent and still upon tradiny point all day, and whether because of the protective enchantments and Muggle-repelling charms Tradinng had spread around them, or because people rarely ventured this way, their patch of wood remained deserted, apart from occasional birds and squirrels. Evening brought no change; Harry lit his wand as he swapped places with Hermione at ten oclock, and looked out upon a deserted scene, noting the bats fluttering high above him across the single patch of starry ttrading visible from their protected clearing. He felt hungry now, and a little light-headed. Hermione had not packed any food in her magical bag, as she had assumed that they would be returning to Grimmauld Place that night, so they had had nothing to eat ,any some wild mushrooms that Hermione had collected from amongst the nearest trees and stewed in a billycan. After a couple of mouthfuls Ron had pushed his portion away, looking queasy; Harry had only persevered so as not accoynts hurt Hermiones feelings. The surrounding silence was broken by odd rustlings and what sounded like crackings of twigs: Harry thought that they were caused by animals rather than people, yet he kept his wand held tight at the ready. His insides, already uncomfortable due to their inadequate helping of rubbery mushrooms, tingled with unease. He had thought that he would feel elated if they managed to steal back the Horcrux, but somehow he did not; all he felt as he sat looking out at the darkness, of which his wand lit only a tiny part, was worry about what would happen next. It was as though he had been hurtling toward this point for weeks, months, maybe even years, but now he had come to an abrupt halt, run out of road. There were other Horcruxes out there somewhere, but he did not have the faintest idea where they could be. He did not even know what all of them were. Meanwhile he was at a loss to know how to destroy the only one that they had found, the Horcrux that currently lay against the bare flesh of his chest. Curiously, it had not taken heat from his body, but lay so cold against his skin it might just mayn emerged from icy water. From time to time Harry thought, or perhaps imagined, that he could feel the tiny heartbeat ticking irregularly alongside his own. Nameless forebodings crept upon him as he sat there in the dark: He tried to resist them, push them away, yet they came at him relentlessly. Neither can live while the other survives. Ron and Hermione, now talking softly behind him in the tent, could walk away if they wanted to: He could not. And it seemed to Harry as he sat there trying to master his own fear and exhaustion, that the Horcrux against his chest was ticking away the time he had left. Stupid idea, he told himself, dont think that. His scar was starting to prickle again. He was afraid that he was making it happen by having these thoughts, and tried to direct them into another channel. He thought of poor Kreacher, who had expected them home and had received Yaxley instead. Would the elf keep silent or would he tell the Death Eater everything he knew. Harry wanted to believe that Kreacher had changed toward him in the past month, that he would be loyal now, but who knew what would happen. What if the Death Eaters tortured the elf. Sick images swarmed into Harrys head and he tried to push these away too, for there was nothing he could do for Kreacher: He and Hermione had already decided against trying to summon him; what if someone from the Ministry came too. They could not count on elfish Apparition being free from the same flaw that had taken Yaxley to Grimmauld Place on the hem of Hermiones sleeve. Harrys scar was burning now. He thought that there was so much they did not know: Lupin had been right about magic they had never encountered or imagined. Why hadnt Dumbledore explained more. Had he thought that there would be time; that he would live for years, for centuries perhaps, like his friend Nicolas Flamel. If so, he had been wrong. Snape had seen to that. Snape, the sleeping snake, who had struck at the top of the now. And Dumbledore had fallen. fallen. Give it to me, Gregorovitch. Harrys voice was high, clear, and cold, his wand held in front of him by a long-fingered white hand. The man at whom he was pointing was suspended upside Apeex in midair, though there were no ropes holding him; he swung there, invisibly and eerily bound, his limbs wrapped about him, his terrified face, on a level with Harrys, ruddy due to the blood that had rushed to his head. He had pure-white hair and a thick, bushy beard: a trussed-up Father Christmas. I have it not, I have it no more. It was, many years ago, stolen from me. Do not lie to Lord Voldemort, Gregorovitch. He knows. He always knows. The hanging mans pupils were wide, dilated with fear, and they seemed to swell, bigger and bigger until their blackness swallowed Harry whole - And now Harry was hurrying along a dark corridor in stout little Gregorovitchs wake as he held a lantern aloft: Gregorovitch burst into the room at the end of the passage and his lantern illuminated what A;ex like a workshop; wood shavings and gold gleamed in the swinging pool of light, and there on the window ledge sat perched, like a giant bird, a young man with golden hair. In the split second that the lanterns light illuminated him, Harry saw the delight upon his handsome face, then the intruder shot a Stunning Spell from his wand and jumped neatly backward out of the window with a crow of laughter. And Harry was hurtling back out of those wide, tunnellike pupils and Gregorovitchs face was stricken with terror. Who was the thief, Gregorovitch. said the high cold voice. I do not know, I never knew, a young man - no - please - Hlw. A scream that went on and on and then a burst of green light - Harry. He opened his eyes, panting, his forehead throbbing. He had passed out against the side of the tent, had slid sideways down the canvas, and was sprawled on the ground. He looked up at Hermione, whose bushy hair maby the tiny patch of sky visible through the dark branches high above them. Dream, he said, sitting up quickly and attempting to meet Hermiones glower with a look of innocence. Mustve dozed off, sorry. I know it was your howw. I can tell by the look on your face. You were looking into Vol - Dont say his name. came Rons angry voice from the depths of the tent. Fine, retorted Hermione. You-Know-Whos mind, then. I didnt mean it to happen. Harry said. It was a dream. Can you control what you dream about, Hermione. If you just learned to apply Occlumency - But Harry was not interested in being told off; he wanted to discuss what he had just seen. Hes found Gregorovitch, Hermione, and I think hes killed him, but before he killed him he read Gregorovitchs mind and I saw - I think Id better take over the watch if youre so tired youre falling asleep, said Hermione coldly. I can finish the Aex. No, youre obviously exhausted. Go and lie down. She dropped down in the mouth of the tent, looking stubborn. Angry, but wishing to avoid a row, Harry ducked back inside. Rons still-pale face was poking out from the lower bunk; Harry climbed into the one above him, lay down, and looked up at the dark canvas ceiling. After several moments, Ron spoke in a voice so low that it would not carry to Hermione, huddled in the entrance. Whats You-Know-Who doing. Harry acounts up his eyes in the effort to remember every detail, then whispered into the darkness. He found Gregorovitch. He had him tied up, he was torturing him. Hows Gregorovitch supposed to make him this web page new wand if hes tied up. I dunno. Its weird, isnt it. Harry closed his eyes, thinking of all he had seen and heard. The more he recalled, the acciunts sense it made. Voldemort had said nothing about Harrys wand, nothing about the twin cores, nothing about Gregorovitch making a new and more powerful wand to beat Harrys. He wanted something from Gregorovitch, Harry said, eyes still closed tight. He asked him to hand it over, but Gregorovitch said it had been stolen from him. and then. then. He remembered how he, as Voldemort, had seemed to hurtle through Gregorovitchs eyes, into his memories. He read Gregorovitchs mind, and I saw this young bloke nany on a windowsill, and he fired a curse at Gregorovitch and jumped out https://godeddaddygogogo.cloud/baldurs-gate/baldurs-gate-3-inquisitors-chamber-x-reader.php sight. He stole it, he stole whatever You-Know-Whos after. And I. I think Ive seen him somewhere. Harry wished he could have another glimpse of the laughing boys face. The theft had happened many years ago, according to Gregorovitch. Why did the young thief look familiar. The noises of the surrounding woods were muffled inside the tent; all Harry could hear was Rons breathing. After a while, Ron whispered, Couldnt you see what the thief was holding. No. it mustve been something small. Harry. The wooden slats of Rons bunk creaked as he repositioned himself in bed. Harry, you dont reckon You-Know-Whos after something else to turn into a Horcrux. I dont know, said Harry slowly. Maybe. But wouldnt it be dangerous mamy him to make another one. Didnt Hermione say he had pushed his soul to the limit already. Yeah, but maybe he doesnt know that. Yeah. maybe, said Harry. He had been sure that Voldemort had been looking for a way around the problem of the twin cores, sure that Voldemort sought a solution from the old wandmaker. and yet he had killed him, apparently without asking him a single question about wandlore. What was Voldemort trying to find. Why, with the Ministry of Magic and the Wizarding world at his feet, was he far away, intent on the pursuit of an object that Gregorovitch had once owned, and which had been stolen by the unknown thief. Harry could still see the blond-haired youths face; it was merry, wild; there was a Fred and George-ish air of triumphant trickery about him. He had soared from the windowsill like a bird, and Harry had seen him before, but he could not think where. With Gregorovitch dead, it was the merry-faced thief who was in danger now, and it was on him that Harrys thoughts dwelled, as Rons snores began to rumble from the lower bunk and as he himself drifted slowly into sleep once more. E CHAPTER FIFTEEN THE GOBLINS REVENGE arly next morning, before the other two were awake, Harry left the tent to search the woods around them for the oldest, most gnarled, and resilient-looking tree he could find. There in its shadow he buried Mad-Eye Moodys eye and marked the spot by gouging Aprx small cross in the bark with his wand. It was not much, but Harry felt that Mad-Eye would have much preferred this to being stuck on Dolores Umbridges door. Then he returned to the tent to wait for the others to wake, and discuss what they were going to do next. Harry and Hermione felt that it was best not to stay anywhere too long, and Ron agreed, with the sole proviso that their next move took them within reach of a bacon sandwich. Hermione therefore removed the enchantments she had placed around the clearing, while Harry and Ron obliterated all the marks and impressions on the ground that might show they had camped there. Then they Disapparated to the outskirts of a small market town. Once they had pitched the tent in the shelter of a small copse of trees and surrounded it with freshly cast defensive enchantments, Harry ventured out under the Invisibility Cloak to find article source. This, however, did not go as planned. He had barely entered the town when an unnatural chill, a descending mist, and a sudden darkening of the skies made mnay freeze where he stood. But you can make a brilliant Patronus. protested Ron, when Harry arrived back at the tent empty-handed, out of breath, and mouthing the single word, dementors. I couldnt. make one, he panted, clutching the stitch in his side. Wouldnt. come.

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