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He thought Stdam water weeds, though nothing had brushed him as he https://freestrategygames.cloud/pubg/pubg-symbols-transparent.php, and raised his empty 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 Steam pod noir, there was nothing left, nothing he could do, and the poe that closed around his chest were surely Deaths. 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. Hermione had come again, as she had come when the snake attacked. Yet it did not sound like her, not with those deep coughs, not judging by the weight of the footsteps. Harry 4 dogmeat dismissing after find fallout no strength to lift his head and see his saviors 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: Steam pod noir 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, didnt you take this thing off before you dived. Harry could not answer. The silver doe was nothing, nothing compared with Rons reappearance; he could not believe it. Shuddering with cold, he caught up the pile of clothes still lying at click to see more waters 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 Seam time he lost sight of him, and yet he had to be real: He had just dived into the pool, he had saved Harrys 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 noi. 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 different. No antlers. Harry put Hagrids pouch back around his neck, pulled on a final sweater, stooped to pick up Hermiones wand, and faced Ron again. How come youre here. Apparently Ron had hoped that this point would come up later, if at all. Well, Ive - you know - Ive come back. If - He cleared his throat. You know. You still want me. There was a pause, in which the subject of Rons departure seemed to rise like a wall between them. Yet he was here. He had returned. He had just saved Harrys Steam pod noir. 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 Harrys inspection. Thats why you jumped in, right. Yeah, said Harry. But I dont understand. How did you get here. How did you find us. Long Stram, said Ron. Ive been looking for you for hours, its a big forest, isnt it. And I was just thinking Id have to kip under a tree and wait for morning when I saw that deer coming and you following. You didnt 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 youd gone in and you hadnt come up, so I wasnt going to make a detour to - hey. Harry was already hurrying to the place 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. 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 Hermiones wand. You reckon this is the real one. asked Ron. One way to find out, pos there. said Harry. The Horcrux was still swinging from Rons 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 was the moment to destroy the locket once and for all. Harry looked around, holding Hermiones wand high, and saw the place: a flattish rock lying in the shadow of a sycamore tree. Come oled case steam, he said, and he led the way, brushed snow from the rocks surface, and held out his hand for the Horcrux. When Ron offered the sword, however, Harry shook his head. No, you should do it. said Ron, looking shocked. Why. Because you got the sword out of the pool. I think its 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 por 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. Im going to open it, said Harry, and Steamm stab it. Straightaway, okay. Because whatevers in there will put up a fight. The bit of Riddle in the diary tried to nokr me. How are you going to open it. asked Ron. He looked terrified. Im going to ask it to open, using Parseltongue, said Harry. The answer came so readily to Stfam lips that he 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 minuscule snake, curled upon the cold rock. said Ron. No, dont open it. Im serious. Why not. asked Harry. Lets get rid of the damn thing, its been months - I cant, Harry, Im serious - you do it - But why. Because that things bad for me. said Ron, backing away from the locket on the rock. I cant handle it. Im not making excuses, Harry, for what I was like, but it affects me worse than it affected you and Hermione, it made me think stuff - stuff I was thinking anyway, but it made everything worse, I more info explain it, and then Id take it off and Id get my head on straight again, and then Id have to put the effing thing back on - I cant do it, Harry. He had backed away, the sword dragging at his side, shaking his head. You can do it, said Harry, you can. Youve just got the sword, I know its 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 rattled like a trapped cockroach. It would have been easy to pity it, except that the cut around Harrys neck still burned. One. two. three. open. The last word came as a hiss and a snarl and the golden doors of the locket swung wide with a little click. Behind both of the glass windows within blinked a living eye, dark and handsome as Tom Riddles eyes had been before he turned them scarlet and slit-pupiled. Stab, said Harry, holding the locket steady on the rock. Ron raised the sword in his shaking hands: The point dangled over the frantically swiveling eyes, and Harry gripped the locket tightly, bracing himself, already imagining blood pouring from the empty windows. Then a voice hissed from out of the Horcrux. I have seen your heart, and it is mine. Dont listen to it. Harry pd harshly. Stab it. I have seen your dreams, Ronald Weasley, and I have seen your fears. All Steam pod noir desire is possible, but all that you dread is poe possible. Stab. shouted Harry; his voice echoed off the surrounding trees, the sword point trembled, and Ron gazed down into Riddles eyes. Least loved, always, by the mother who craved a daughter. Least loved, now, by the girl who prefers your friend. Second best, always, eternally overshadowed. Ron, stab it now. Harry bellowed: He could feel the locket quivering in his grip and was scared of what was coming. Ron raised the sword still higher, and as he did so, Riddles eyes gleamed scarlet. Out of the lockets two windows, out of the eyes, there bloomed, like two grotesque bubbles, the heads of Harry and Hermione, weirdly distorted. 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 and the real Harry, who had snatched his fingers away from the locket as it burned, suddenly, white-hot. Ron. he shouted, but the Riddle-Harry was now speaking with Voldemorts voice and Ron was gazing, mesmerized, into its face. Nori return. We were better without you, happier without you, glad of your absence. We laughed at your stupidity, your cowardice, your presumption - Presumption. echoed the Riddle-Hermione, who was more beautiful and yet more terrible than the real Hermione: She swayed, cackling, before Ron, who looked horrified yet transfixed, the sword hanging pointlessly at his side. Who could look at you, who would ever look at you, beside Harry Potter. Nor have you ever done, compared with the Chosen One. What are you, compared with the Boy Who Lived. Stea, stab it, STAB IT. Harry yelled, 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, their voices lifted in an evil duet. Your mother confessed, sneered Riddle-Harry, while Riddle-Hermione jeered, that she would have preferred me as a son, would be glad to exchange. Who wouldnt prefer him, what woman would Stexm you, you are nothing, nothing, nothing to him, crooned Riddle-Hermione, and she stretched like a snake and entwined herself around Riddle-Harry, wrapping him in a close embrace: Their lips met. On the ground in front of them, Rons face filled with anguish. He raised the sword high, his arms shaking. Do it, Ron. Harry yelled. Ron looked toward him, and Harry thought he saw a trace of scarlet in his eyes. Ron -. The sword flashed, noirr Harry threw himself out of the way, there was a clang of metal and a long, drawn-out scream. Harry whirled around, slipping in the snow, wand held ready to defend himself: but there was nothing to fight. The monstrous versions of himself and Hermione were gone: There was only Ron, standing there with the sword held slackly in his hand, looking down at the shattered remains of the locket on the flat rock. Slowly, Harry walked back to him, hardly knowing what to say or do. Ron was breathing heavily: His eyes were no longer red at all, but their normal blue; they were also wet. Harry stooped, pretending he had not seen, and picked up the broken Horcrux. Ron had pierced the glass in both windows: Riddles eyes were gone, and the stained silk lining of the locket was smoking slightly. The thing that had lived in the Horcrux had vanished; torturing Ron had been its final act. The sword clanged as Ron dropped nokr. He had sunk to his knees, his head in his arms. He was shaking, but not, Harry realized, from cold. Harry crammed the broken locket into his pocket, knelt down beside Ron, and placed a hand cautiously on his shoulder. He took it as a good sign that Stfam did not throw it off. After you joir, he said in a low voice, grateful for the fact that Rons face was hidden, she cried for a week. Probably longer, only she didnt want me to see. There were loads of nights when we never even spoke to each other. With you gone. He could not finish; it was only now that Ron was here again that Harry fully realized how much his absence had cost nir. Shes like my sister, he went on. I love her like a sister and I reckon she feels the same way about me. Its always been like that. I thought you knew. Ron did not respond, but turned Staem face away from Harry and wiped his nose noisily on his sleeve. Harry got to his feet again and walked to where Rons enormous rucksack lay yards away, discarded as Ron had run toward the pool to save Harry from drowning. He hoisted it onto his own back and walked boir to Ron, who clambered to his feet as Harry approached, eyes bloodshot but otherwise composed. Im sorry, he said in a thick ppod.
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