Complete and Utter Poppycock

Chapter 11: Trio

Chapter 11: Trio

I saw my friends talking to a portrait, but then I soon realized it was Phineas Black they were talking to. He had a blindfold over his eyes so they couldn't see us and where we were at.

"I believe the last time I saw the sword of Gryffindor leave its case was when Professor Dumbledore used it to break open the ring."

I gasped, realizing everything. At once. The sword of Gryffindor. . . I dreamt about that too. And. . . it was being used to smash something. Perhaps the Horcruxes? Is that what we use to destroy them all?

But where could the sword of Gryffindor be? Could I use the dreamcatcher to find one of my specific dreams? Could I use it to find where it is?

"The sword can destroy Horcruxes! Goblin-made blades imbibe only that which strengthen them — Harry, the swords impregnated with basilisk venom!" Hermione said excitedly.

"And Dumbledore didn't give it to me because he still needed it, he wanted to use it on the locket —"

"— and he must have realized they wouldn't let you have it if he put it in his will —"

"— so he made a copy —"

"— and put a fake in the glass case —"

"— and he left the real one — where?"

We gazed at each other. I felt like it was right in front of me, but I had no clue.

"Think!" Hermione whispered. "Think! Where would he have left it?"

"Not at Hogwarts," said Harry, resuming his pacing.

"It couldn't be at Hogsmeade," I added. "I believe he wouldn't put it there, at least."

"So, would he have hidden the sword well away from Hogsmeade, then?" said Harry. "What d'you reckon, Ron? Ron?"

For a moment I thought he left the tent because I couldn't see him but then realized he was lying in the shadow of the lower bunk, looking stony.

"Oh, remembered me, have you?" he said.

"What?"

"You three carry on. Don't let me spoil your fun."

Perplexed, Harry looked at Hermione and me for help but we just shook our heads. I didn't want to deal with moody Ron all the time. I hated when he got like this and became so short-tempered and irritable. It annoyed me on ends.

"What's the problem?" asked Harry.

"Problem? There's no problem," said Ron, still refusing to look at Harry. "Not according to you, anyway." It was starting to rain as I heard the plunks hit the tent.

"Doesn't look like it to me," I said bluntly. Ron swung his long legs off the bed and sat up. He looked mean, unlike himself. I didn't like it.

"You wanna know?" Ron said. "Don't expect me to skip up and down the tent because there's some other damn thing we've got to find. Just add it to the list of stuff you don't know."

"Well, it's not like you've done anything at all except sulk around all the time!" I said. "At least we're actually trying to figure this out unlike you have."

"Go back to making ice sculptures," Ron snarled. "Stay out of this or I'll give you a reason to be in it."

My mouth went shut. I wanted to strangle him then and there where he was standing. The rain was falling harder and heavier.

"It's not like I'm having the time of my life here," said Ron, "you know, with my arm mangled and nothing to eat," I rolled my eyes, "and freezing my backside off every night. I just hoped, you know, after we've been running around a few weeks, we'd have achieved something."