❝𝘶𝘯𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘥𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘴,
𝘓𝘶𝘤𝘪𝘢❞
𝗛𝗔𝗥𝗥𝗬 𝗣𝗢𝗧𝗧𝗘𝗥 was a somewhat quiet, yet mischievous guy who had trouble tailing him since he was a mere one year-old. He encounters a girl, whose only known attribute wa...
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CXXV. THE FLIGHT TO FREEDOM
21:79 ─❁────────── 31:80
◁ Ⅱ ▷
❝the day you'll fly higher Butterfly
Everybody's gonna see it soon❞
༻───────────────༺
ALL THE PREPARATIONS WERE COMING together;in the smallest bedroom a single, coarse black hair (plucked from the sweater Hermione had been wearing at Malfoy Manor) lay curled in a small glass phial on the mantelpiece.
"And you'll be using her actual wand," said Harry, nodding toward the walnut wand, "so I reckon you'll be pretty convincing."
Hermione looked frightened that the wand might sting or bite her as she picked it up.
"You don't have to do it, Hermione. I can the role if you want? I think I do pretty well in acting crazy," suggested Lucia. As much as she hated the woman with all her being, remembering of how she had tortured Neville's parents, she couldn't just let Hermione be in an uncomfortable situation.
"I just... just hate this thing," she said in a low voice. "I really hate it. It feels all wrong, it doesn't work properly for me... It's like a bit of her."
"It'll probably help you get in character, though," said Ron. "Think what that wand's done!"
"But that's my point!" said Hermione. "This is the wand that tortured Neville's mum and dad, and who knows how many other people? This is the wand that killed Sirius!"
Harry hadn't thought of that: He looked down at the wand and was visited by a brutal urge to snap it, to slice it in half with Gryffindor's sword, which was propped against the wall beside him.
"I miss my wand," Hermione said miserably. "I wish Mr. Ollivander could have made me another one too."
Mr. Ollivander had sent Luna a new wand that morning. She was out on the back lawn at that moment, testing its capabilities in the late afternoon sun. Dean, who'd lost his wand to the Snatchers, was watching rather gloomily.
Remembering what Ollivander had told them of the secret workings of wands, Lucia thought she knew what Hermione's problem was: She had not won the walnut wand's allegiance by taking it personally from Bellatrix.
The door of the bedroom opened and Griphook entered. Harry reached instinctively for the hilt of the sword and drew it close to him but regretted his action at once: He could tell that the goblin had noticed. Seeking to gloss over the sticky moment, he said, "We've just been checking the last-minute stuff, Griphook. We've told Bill and Fleur we're leaving tomorrow, and we've told them not to get up to see us off."
