Harry Potter and the Archway of the Dead

Chapter Thirteen: Rain And Red Lights

HARRY POTTER AND THE ARCHWAY OF THE DEAD

Chapter thirteen

“What do you reckon they are doing up there?”

“I dunno,” said Harry absent-mindedly, glancing up at the stairway for what felt like the hundredth time.

They were standing in the narrow hallway, near the front door, ready to leave.  Ginny had gone back upstairs to change and Hermione had followed her with the same excuse.

Harry glanced at his watch and rolled his eyes up.  He already felt like they had wasted too much time and he could not grasp why it was so important to change clothes.  Girls, he thought with a sigh of exasperation.

“I know what you mean, mate.  Want to curse them, but can’t live without them.  That’s what you call ironic.”

Harry’s smile at Ron’s comment was rather weak.  This morning’s conversation had left him quite drained and slightly stunned at his own reaction.  He had not planned on showing the black mark to anyone but Ron and Hermione, and that was because they already knew about it.  Then again, he had not expected to be talking openly about the Hallows with anyone but his two friends either. A few hours ago, they had been the only ones to know the true nature of the Wand, the Stone and the Cloak.  Now, this information had been entrusted into three new individuals. In his heart, Harry knew that George and Percy’s reliability was absolute, but a small part of him still wondered about the look on George’s face when he had glanced at the pendant on Hermione’s neck.  As for Ginny, he wasn’t sure where the idea to include her in the plan had come into place. It had been almost natural to allow her to tag along. Perhaps it had been the stubborn look on her face that had induced him. But whatever his feelings, he knew for certain that there was no way that he could talk her out of it now.   

“Are you scared?” Ron asked all of a sudden, which brought Harry out of his reverie.  “I mean, if it was me, I’d be scared. I wouldn’t want a tattoo on my chest, except maybe a dragon with fire coming out of its mouth.  Charlie has a Hungarian Horntail on his shoulder blade. Mum and dad don’t know about it, of course. But that spiral thing, it’s a bit uncanny, isn’t it?”

Harry shrugged.

“As long as there’s no picture of me naked in the Daily Prophet so that everyone can see it, I’m good.”

“You think Hermione would like me with a tattoo?”

“Definitely, no.”

Ron fell silent and glanced up at the stairway pensively.  Harry could tell that his friend was trying very hard not to sound too concerned, but the truth was that Ron had more reasons to be anxious than anyone else in the entire Wizarding World.  His family was deeply involved with Harry, and that had been an unsafe position from his first year at Hogwarts. The loss of Fred, Hermione being tortured not so long ago, and Mr Weasley’s illness, none of those events had changed their attitude and they still cared for Harry like one of their own.  Yet he could not help but feel guilty for the situation that they were in again. Ron’s nervousness was completely legitimate, but he couldn’t ask his friend to stay with his family because he already knew the answer to that. Ron and Hermione would never accept to be left behind.

“Maybe I should Summon them,” said Harry with a half-smile, trying to sound cheerful.

His attempt at a joke fell quite flat.  Ron was staring pensively at the stairs, fiddling with the fastenings on his orange rucksack, looking gloomy and apprehensive.

“Amazing how they came easily to the right conclusion about the Hallows, didn’t they?”

“But they still don’t know everything,” Harry answered, repeating what had been said earlier.  “I think it’s better if they don’t find out about the Horcruxes yet. We have enough on our hands as it is.”