Harriet Potter

"Guess what, I'm not surprised at all," said Ron, half helpless, half annoyed.

He held a lit wand, Hermione by his side folded her arms, and I stood there foolishly holding a portrait of Phineas Nigellus Black, like a deer caught in a headlight.

"I can explain, it's not..."

"You're contacting Snape through Phineas Nigellus, let's skip the making up and start here." Hermione said deadpan. camp? Or did you come back for this in the first place?"

"That's not it!" I said quickly, "This is the first time, I want to try—"

"Why did you do that?" Ron asked. "Snape killed Dumbledore! You say you saw it!"

"He did it because of Dumbledore's orders," I said, looking at their stunned faces, "Dumbledore told me. Remember his hand? Hermione was right, it couldn't be cured." , he didn't have much time."

They stared at me, too shocked to speak.

"I think he told me that he wanted me to trust Snape." I went on, hoping they wouldn't be able to discern the hesitation in my words now, "I don't want to do it unless I have to, but since we're going to Now that we have entered Hogwarts, and we have a way to contact him, I think we should confirm whether he has something that Dumbledore wants to give us before we act."

"You mean the sword of Gryffindor?" Hermione immediately grasped the point.

I nod. "Didn't Phineas say that Ginny and the others went to the principal's office to steal it?"

"And it can destroy Horcruxes," said Hermione, "because goblin-made weapons only absorb what strengthens them—"

"And I once soaked the sword in the basilisk's venom," I continued. "If we manage to find the one in Hogwarts, we will have two Horcruxes in our hands, but there is no way to destroy them."

"Didn't he say the sword was sent to Gringotts later?" asked Ron.

"It could be a counterfeit, Dumbledore must have figured that if he mentioned the sword in his will they wouldn't let Harry have it," said Hermione.

Phineas Nigellus interrupted our excitement with a sudden statement.

"Forest of Dean in two hours," he drawled lazily, and before either of us could ask a question, he disappeared into the frame, leaving behind a cloudy background.

"Let's go back to the tent first," said Hermione a few seconds later, taking the portrait from me and stuffing it into the pouch.

As soon as he entered the tent, Ron made a fuss.

"You kept it from us!" he cried. "You knew the truth about Dumbledore's death from the beginning and kept it from us for so long!"

"Calm down, Ron. We'll talk about that later," said Hermione, closing the tent door carefully.

"What? But—"

"Harry, do you know what I've been talking to myself?" Hermione looked at me seriously.

I really stuck, "Uh, that's how you guys found out about this?"

"You've been looking at the Marauder's Map all afternoon and talking about Phineas Nigellus' portrait and Snape." Hermione rolled her eyes, "but I doubt I'll ever notice the bag is missing Such a big thing."

"Oh," it's a little awkward, "I guess it's just a habit, and I haven't gotten over it. It's been pretty empty around me since I stopped using the resurrection stone, so I'm just talking to myself, uh..."

"There's been something wrong with you lately, Harry," Hermione said worriedly, "I've been feeling since last year that you've been hiding a lot from us, and we can't ask you anything. In your head, you start talking about your own thoughts, and you don't seem to be aware that you are doing it."

"Then you are on the side, what should I say, listening to the radio?" I said uncomfortably.

"We wanted to remind you," said Ron, "but then you started babbling about 'thief' all day and night—you started talking in your sleep again, by the way—and we decided Watch for a while to see if you're acting on your own or, uh, are being affected by something."

"You think I'm being controlled by You-Know-Who." I'm a little annoyed, partly because of the inescapable possibility.I certainly haven't thought about thieves anyway, unless I subconsciously consider stealing Horcruxes to be theft too, but I don't remember my moral sense being so strong.

"I haven't heard you have a nightmare or talk in your sleep for a long time since you relearned Occlumency," said Hermione, "and these days you press your forehead into the pillow when you dream, just It's like it hurts there... you were in fifth grade too."

"Also, although you're always talking about how happy you are to be back with us, the next minute you'll be acting like you want to strangle us right away." Ron shrugged, "Well, it's probably not so 'unnatural' .”

It makes me a little ashamed to realize how much anger Hermione and Ron have endured for no reason. "I... Ever since I discovered the use of the resurrection stone, I have gradually stopped shutting down my brain before going to bed. My scar has been a little sore since we set off, but it hasn't gotten worse since then, and it's not the same as when I was in fifth grade. Likewise, if my parents hadn't woken me up, I wouldn't have realized I was having a nightmare. Now I can't remember what I was dreaming about before."

"So you don't think it's a big deal?" cried Hermione. "You're opening your brain to You-Know-Who!"

"I didn't! If the mysterious person is really controlling me through..., I will know!" I became annoyed, "My memory is not fragmented, unless you count the time when I was in a daze in the tent, but at that time, among you One of them is always by my side, or two, listening to my divulges and stuff...what the hell. You guys have minimal vigils for me just to keep me from being alone. And I say I don't remember my nightmares or 'thieves' at all, if he really tried to control me, how come I can't remember anything—”

"Harry," said Hermione.

"If you really think—" I paused and gasped, "I'm starting again, aren't I?"

Ron nodded, and Hermione watched me closely. "How are you feeling, Harry?"

"Angry." I replied.

"Why? Because we suspect you're not all yourself?" Hermione demanded. "Have you ever been this angry about this before?"

"Y-no..." I closed my eyes and tried to find the answer to the question, but in the end it seemed a little too easy, as if it had been accumulated for a long time, "I am angry because... because he is angry. He is very angry. Angry and agitated..." The rest is almost unthinking, "It's been a while, he's been looking for something and can't find..."

I opened my eyes and Hermione had that "I hate that I was right again" look on Hermione's face. "Someone stole it."

"'Thief,'" Hermione said softly.

"He's probably been wondering who and where that thief is," I said, "so... so I'm wondering too, I just don't know."

"Do you know what that means?" Ron interjected, "You're reading the mind of the mysterious man!"

"No, I didn't," I said, feeling my heart start beating wildly again, "I didn't 'read' it, he invaded my mind, synchronized my thoughts and feelings with his..."

"Calm down, Harry!" cried Hermione.

"How?" I backed away from them. "I'm already pissing you off with his rage! What if he tortures whom? What if he wants to kill?"

"That's why you have to calm down! You have to close your brain!" Hermione stepped forward and grabbed my shoulder, "From the current situation, this influence is probably unconscious, and the mysterious person has not discovered your The barrier between minds has begun to fail, and as long as you rebuild it before he finds out, there will be no consequences!"

"There's no 'shield'! His—he's in my head, I feel it. He can influence me if he wants to."

But Hermione had found one of the most powerful reasons. "If Dumbledore thought it was useless, he wouldn't have let you learn Occlumency!"

"He might..." I opened my mouth, but I couldn't think of any rebuttal that was convincing enough to say, and Hermione saw it and looked a little satisfied.

"So you'll have to start using Occlumency again from tonight," she announced. "We'll remind you to concentrate whenever you dream or talk to yourself again."

I fell in love with her at that moment.Hermione listens to the problem and gives the solution, like what's wrong with me could happen to anyone, there's nothing she can't find in a book, like I'm really perfectly normal and normal, just happen to have a little problem fault.

"Or maybe not," I said, recovering, hesitantly, "I mean, this is a source of information that I can use...well, I'll just say it."

"You dare to try again on your own." Hermione still stared at me, and I raised my hands in timidity.

"Then it's settled, isn't it?" Ron looked at the two of us. "Are we going to have another fight about Harry keeping Snape from us?"

"It's too late, we'd better get ready to go to the Forest of Dean first," Hermione said.

She suddenly seemed uninterested, turned around to pack up things that might be needed for the trip, and asked us—in fact, mainly herself—from time to time to confirm whether or not to take the portrait, what steps should be taken in defense measures, and what steps should be taken during the departure. The details of what to do with the camp.We discussed briefly where we should go, and finally decided to go first near the frozen pond where the doe had disappeared the last time.The idea that the doe is related to Snape strikes me as a little odd, but anyway, we don't have any other clues right now.

After 10 minutes the area was cleared to be safe, and the three of us stood by the small pond and looked at each other.My guess was right that the Gryffindor sword was placed here, but I guess I shouldn't be surprised that Snape sank it to the bottom of the pond and restored the ice cap.We've tried everything, flying spells, hovering spells, silently saying "Help me" together - obviously, nothing works.The sword lay poised like a silver cross, its hilt gleaming with rubies.

Hermione and I looked at Ron silently, and he shuddered.

"Does this have to be done?" He looked at Hermione beggingly, as if hoping that she could invent a spell that would drain the pond instantly in the next second. "It's sure to freeze my—whatever."

"I can come too." I said calmly, "If you can turn your back on me while I'm undressing..."

Hermione picked up on me, "Or I could read to myself—"

"Okay, okay, I'll do it. I'm going to kill Snape." Ron took one last look at the surrounding snow and the thick ice on the pond, and began to unbutton his coat, "You must be kidding me. "

The author has something to say: Today's task: The Sword of Gryffindor (1/1)