HP Approaches the Magical World

But as soon as Hermione moved, Bathilda unexpectedly shook her head vigorously, pointing to Harry, then to herself.

"She wants me to go with her alone."

"Why?"

Hermione asked, her voice was sharp and clear, echoing in the candlelit room, she was beginning to feel uneasy, and that suspicion seemed to be a reality - without Jon by her side, it had become dangerous.

"Perhaps Dumbledore told her to give me the sword, and only to me?"

"Do you really think she knows who you are?"

"Yes," said Harry, looking down into the cloudy eyes staring at him: "I think she knows."

"Okay, but hurry up, Harry."

"Lead the way."

The old lady seemed to understand, and staggered around him and walked towards the door.

Harry looked back at Hermione with a reassuring smile, but wondered if she had seen her standing with her arms folded in the candlelit dirty room, looking at the bookshelf.

Neither Hermione nor Bathilda saw Harry tuck the silver framed portrait of the unknown thief into his coat as he walked out of the room.

The stairs were steep and narrow: Harry almost wanted to put his hands on the bloated Bathilda's back in case she fell backwards on him, which seemed all too likely.

Wheezing a little, she climbed slowly to the top of the stairs, turned right immediately, and led him into a low bedroom.

It was dark inside and the smell was terrible. Harry just vaguely saw a urinal protruding from the bed when Bathilda closed the door, swallowing even that little vision in darkness.

"Luminescence flickering."

Harry said the wand was lit, and he was startled: in those few seconds of darkness, Bathilda had come to him without him hearing.

"Are you Potter?"

"Yes, I am."

She nodded slowly and solemnly, and Harry felt the Horcrux throbbing faster than his own heart, an uncomfortable, restless feeling.

"Do you have anything for me?"

Harry asked, but she seemed distracted by the light from the tip of his staff.

"Do you have anything for me?"

She closed her eyes, and several things happened: Harry's scar felt like a needle prick; the Horcrux trembled, and even the sweater on his chest moved;

He felt a burst of joy when the dark and rotten room disappeared for a while, and said in a high-pitched, grim voice: "Look at him!"

Harry staggered in place: the dark, fetid room seemed to surround him again, and he didn't understand what had just happened.

"Do you have something to give me?"

"This way."

She pointed into the corner and whispered, and Harry raised his wand and vaguely saw a messy dressing table under the curtained window.

This time she didn't lead him.

Harry raised his wand and sidled between her and the unmade bed, not wanting to take his eyes off her.

"What's this?"

he asked, moving to the dresser,

It was piled so high that it looked and smelled like dirty laundry.

"there."

She pointed to the messy pile and said.

The moment he looked away, searching for a sword hilt, a ruby ​​among the pile, she moved strangely: he saw it out of the corner of his eye, and turned around in terror, paralyzed with terror. .

He saw the old body fall, and a great snake spurted from where her neck had been.

As he raised his wand, the serpent struck: a sharp bite on his forearm, and the wand whirled toward the ceiling as the glow swirled dizzyingly around the walls and went out.

Immediately afterwards, the snake tail hit him hard in the abdomen, sweeping him out of breath. He fell backwards on the dresser, into the smelly pile of dirty laundry—

He rolled sideways, narrowly avoiding the tail of the snake, which smacked the table where he had been a second ago.

He rolled to the ground, splashed all over with broken glass, and heard Hermione calling from downstairs, "Harry?"

He couldn't get enough air into his lungs to answer, and suddenly something heavy and smooth knocked him to the ground again, and he felt it slide over him, strong, powerful—

"No!"

"Yes," said the voice in a low voice, "yes...to watch you...to watch you..."

"Wand... the wand flies..."

But it doesn't work.

He needed both hands to push the serpent out of his body as it squeezed the air out of his lungs and pressed the horcrux into his chest, a pulsating circle of ice within inches of his own beating heart. inches away.

A white cold light suddenly appeared in his brain, all thoughts became blank, his breathing was submerged, the sound of footsteps in the distance, everything disappeared...

A heart of metal pounded outside his chest, and now he was flying, triumphant in his heart, no need for broomsticks and thestrals...

He awoke suddenly in a sour-smelling darkness, and Nagini had let him go.

He hurried to his feet and saw the silhouette of the big snake reflected in the dim light of the stairs: it was attacking, and Hermione screamed and dodged aside, her spell missed, smashing the curtained window to pieces , the cold air poured into the room.

Harry dodged another shower of shattered glass and stepped on something that looked like a pencil—his wand—

He stooped to pick it up, but now the big snake filled the room, its tail lashing.

Hermione was gone, and Harry thought of the worst for a moment, but suddenly there was a bang, a red light flashed, and the big snake flew into the air, hitting Harry's face heavily, and the heavy snake body circled round and round Rise to the ceiling.

Harry raised his wand, but now the scar burned worse than it had been in years.

"He's coming! Hermione, he's coming!"

There was chaos, the snake knocked over the shelf on the wall, and the broken china flew in all directions. Harry jumped over the bed and grabbed the dark figure he knew was Hermione—

She screamed in pain, and was pulled back to the side of the bed by Harry, and the big snake stood up again, but Harry knew that something more terrible than the snake was coming, maybe already at the gate, his scar was so painful that his head felt like it was about to split--

The big snake swooped down, and Harry pulled Hermione and lunged out.

As it struck, Hermione finally got the signal, flicked her wand, and screamed, "Thunderbolt!"

Her spell flew around the room, blew up the full-length mirror, bounced between the floor and ceiling and bounced back towards them, scalding Harry's arm with its heat.

The two jumped directly from the broken window into the void, Hermione's scream echoed in the night, and the two spun in mid-air...

That's when Harry's scar exploded, and it was Voldemort, scurrying across the stinky bedroom, clawing at the window sill with his long, pale fingers.

He saw the bald man and the little woman whirl and disappear, shouting furiously, his cries mingled with the girl's, echoing in the dark garden, drowning out the Christmas bells from the church...

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