The world had ended, so why had the battle not ceased, the castle fallen silent in horror, and every combatant laid down their arms? Harry’s mind was in free fall, spinning out of control, unable to grasp the impossibility, because Fred Weasley could not be dead, the evidence of all his senses must be lying–And then a body fell past the hole blown into the side of the school and curses flew in at them from the darkness, hitting the wall behind their heads.
“Get down!” Harry shouted, as more curses flew through the night: He and Ron had both grabbed Hermione and pulled her to the floor, but Percy lay across Fred’s body, shielding it from further harm, and when Harry shouted “Percy, come on, we’ve got to move!” he shook his head.
“Percy!” Harry saw tear tracks streaking the grime coating Ron’s face as he seized his elder brother’s shoulders and pulled, but Percy would not budge. “Percy, you can’t do anything for him! We’re going to–”
Hermione screamed, and Harry, turning, did not need to ask why. A monstrous spider the size of a small car was trying to climb through the huge hole in the wall. one of Aragog’s descendants had joined the fight.
Ron and Harry shouted together; their spells collided and the monster was blown backward, its legs jerking horribly, and vanished into the darkness.
“It brought friends!” Harry called to the others, glancing over the edge of the castle through the hole in the wall the curses had blasted. More giant spiders were climbing the side of the building, liberated from the Forbidden Forest, into which the Death Eaters must have penetrated. Harry fired Stunning Spells down upon them, knocking the lead monster into its fellows, so that they rolled back down the building and out of sight. Then more curses came soaring over Harry’s head, so close he felt the force of them blow his hair.
“Let’s move, NOW!”
Pushing Hermione ahead of him with Ron, Harry stooped to seize Fred’s body under the armpit. Percy, realizing what Harry was trying to do, stopped clinging to the body and helped: together, crouching low to avoid the curses flying at them from the grounds, they hauled Fred out of the way.
“Here,” said Harry, and they placed him in a niche where a suit of armor had stood earlier. He could not bear to look at Fred a second longer than he had to, and after making sure that the body was well-hidden, he took off after Ron and Hermione. Malfoy and Goyle had vanished but at the end of the corridor, which was now full of dust and falling masonry, glass long gone from windows, he saw many people running backward and forward, whether friends or foes he could not tell. Rounding the corner, Percy let out a bull-like roar: “ROOKWOOD!” and sprinted off in the direction of a tall man, who was pursuing a couple of students. “Harry, in here!” Hermione screamed.
She had pulled Ron behind a tapestry. They seemed to be wrestling together, and for one mad second Harry thought that they were embracing again; then he saw that Hermione was trying to restrain Ron, to stop him running after Percy.
“Listen to me – LISTEN RON!”
“I wanna help – I wanna kill Death Eaters–”
His face was contorted, smeared with dust and smoke, and he was shaking with rage and grief.
“Ron, we’re the only ones who can end it! Please – Ron – we need the snake, we’ve got to kill the snake!” said Hermione.
But Harry knew how Ron felt: Pursuing another Horcrux could not bring the satisfaction of revenge; he too wanted to fight, to punish them, the people who had killed Fred, and he wanted to find the other Weasleys, and above all make sure, make quite sure, that Ginny was not – but he could not permit that idea to form in his mind – “We will fight!” Hermione said. “We’ll have to, to reach the snake! But let’s not lose sight now of what we’re supposed to be d-doing! We’re the only ones who can end it!”
She was crying too, and she wiped her face on her torn and singed sleeve as she spoke, but she took great heaving breaths to calm herself as, still keeping a tight hold on Ron, she turned to Harry.
“You need to find out where Voldemort is, because he’ll have the snake with him, won’t he? Do it, Harry – look inside him!”
Why was it so easy? Because his scar had been burning for hours, yearning to show him Voldemort’s thoughts? He closed his eyes on her command, and at once, the screams and bangs and all the discordant sounds of the battle were drowned until they became distant, as though he stood far, far away from them…
He was standing in the middle of a desolate but strangely familiar room, with peeling paper on the walls and all the windows boarded up except for one. The sounds of the assault on the castle were muffled and distant. The single unblocked window revealed distant bursts of light where the castle stood, but inside the room was dark except for a solitary oil lamp.
He was rolling his wand between his fingers, watching it, his thoughts on the room in the castle, the secret room only he had ever found, the room, like the chamber, that you had to be clever and cunning and inquisitive to discover…He was confident that the boy would not find the diadem…although Dumbledore’s puppet had come much farther than he ever expected…too far…
“My Lord,” said a voice, desperate and cracked. He turned: there was Lucius Malfoy sitting in the darkest corner, ragged and still bearing the marks of the punishment he had received after the boy’s last escape. One of his eyes remained closed and puffy. “My Lord…please…my son…”
“If your son is dead, Lucius, it is not my fault. He did not come and join me, like the rest of the Slytherins. Perhaps he has decided to befriend Harry Potter?”
“No – never,” whispered Malfoy. “You must hope not.”
“Aren’t – aren’t you afraid, my Lord that Potter might die at another hand but yours?” asked Malfoy, his voice shaking. “Wouldn’t it be…forgive me…more prudent to call off this battle, enter the castle, and seek him y-yourself?”
“Do not pretend Lucius. You wish the battle to cease so that you can discover what has happened to your son. And I do not need to seek Potter. Before the night is out, Potter will have come to find me.”
Voldemort dropped his gaze once more to the wand in his fingers. It troubled him…and those things that troubled Lord Voldemort needed to be rearranged…“Go and fetch Snape.”
“Snape, m-my Lord?”
“Snape. Now. I need him. There is a – service – I require from him. Go.”
Frightened, stumbling a little through the gloom, Lucius left the room. Vodlemort continued to stand there, twirling the wand between his fingers, staring at it.
“It is the only way, Nagini,” he whispered, and he looked around, and there was the great thick snake, now suspended in midair, twisting gracefully within the enchanted, protected space he had made for her, a starry, transparent sphere somewhere between a glittering cage and a tank.
With a gasp, Harry pulled back and opened his yees at the same moment his ears were assaulted with the screeches and cries, the smashes and bangs of battle.
“He’s in the Shrieking Shack. The snake’s with him, it’s got some sort of magical protection around it. He’s just sent Lucius Malfoy to find Snape.”
“Voldemort’s sitting in the shrieking Shack?” said Hermione, outraged. “He’s not – he’s not even FIGHTING?”
“He doesn’t think he needs to fight,” said Harry. “He thinks I’m going to go to him.”
“But why?”
“He knows I’m after Horcruxes – he’s keeping Nagini close beside him – obviously I’m going to have to go to him to get near the thing–”
“Right,” said Ron, squaring his shoulders. “So you can’t go, that’s what he wants, what he’s expecting. You stay here and look after Hermione, and I’ll go and get it–” Harry cut across Ron.
“You two stay here, I’ll go under the Cloak and I’ll be back as soon as I–”
“No,” said Hermione,, “it makes much more sense if I take the Cloak and–”
“Don’t even think about it,” Ron snarled at her. before Hermione could get farther than “Ron, I’m just as capable – The tapestry at the top of the staircase on which they stood was ripped open.
“POTTER!”
Two masked Death Eaters stood there, but even before their wands were fully raised, Hermione shouted “Glisseo!”
The stairs beneath their feet flattened into a chute and she, Harry, and Ron hurtled down it, unable to control their speed but so fast that the Death Eaters’ Stunning Spells flew far over their heads. They shot through the concealing tapestry at the bottom and spun onto the floor, hitting the opposite wall.
“Duro!” cried Hermione, pointing her wand at the tapestry, and there were two loud, sickening crunches as the tapestry turned to stone and the Death Eaters pursuing them crumpled against it.
“Get back!” shouted Ron, and he, Harry, and Hermione hurled themselves against a door as a herd of galloping desks thundered past, shepherded by a sprinting Professor McGonagall. She appeared not to notice them. Her hair had come down and there was a gash on her cheek. As she turned the corner, they heard her scream,
“CHARGE!”
“Harry, you get the Cloak on,” said Hermione. “Never mind us–”
But he threw it over all three of them; large though they were he doubted anyone would see their disembodied feet through the dust that clogged the air, the falling stone, the shimmer of spells. they ran down the next staircase and found themselves in a corridor full of duelers. The portraits on either side of the fighters were crammed with figures screaming advice and encouragement, while Death Eaters, both masked and unmasked, dueled students and teachers. Dean had won himself a wand, for he was face-to-face with Dolohov, Parvati with Travers. Harry, Ron and Hermione raised their wands at once, ready to strike, but the duelers were weaving and darting so much that there was a strong likelihood of hurting on of their own side if they cast curses. Even as they stood braced, looking for the opportunity to act, there came a great “Wheeeeee!” and looking up, Harry saw Peeves zooming over them, dropping Snargaluff pods down onto the Death Eaters, whose heads were suddenly engulfed in wriggling green tubers like fat worms.
“ARGH!”
A fistful of tubers had hit the Cloak over Ron’s head; the damp green roots were suspended improbably in midair as Ron tried to shake them loose.
“Someone’s invisible there!” shouted a masked Death Eater, pointing.
Dean made the most of the Death Eater’s momentary distraction, knocking him out with a stunning Spell; Dolohov attempted to retaliate, and Parvati shot a Body Bind Curse at him. “LET’S GO!” Harry yelled, and he, Ron, and Hermione gathered the Cloak tightly around themselves and pelted, heads down, through the midst of the fighters, slipping a little in pools of Snargaluff juice, toward the top of the marble staircase into the entrance hall.
“I’m Draco Malfoy, I’m Draco, I’m on your side!” Draco was on the upper landing, pleading with another masked Death Eater. Harry Stunned the Death Eater as they passed. Malfoy looked around, beaming, for his savior, and Ron punched him from under the Cloak. Malfoy fell backward on top of the Death Eater, his mouth bleeding, utterly bemused.
“And that’s the second time we’ve saved your life tonight, you two-faced bastard!” Ron yelled.
There were more duelers all over the stairs and in the hall. Death Eaters everywhere Harry looked: Yaxley, close to the front doors, in combat with Flitwick, a masked Death Eater dueling Kingsley right beside them. Students ran in every direction; some carrying or dragging injured friends. Harry directed a Stunning Spell toward the masked Death Eater; it missed but nearly hit Neville, who had emerged from nowhere brandishing armfuls of Venomous Tentacula, which looped itself happily around the nearest Death Eater and began reeling him in.
Harry, Ron, and Hermione sped won the marble staircase: glass shattered on the left, and the Slytherin hourglass that had recorded House points spilled its emeralds everywhere, so that people slipped and staggered as they ran. Two bodies fell from the balcony overhead as they reached the ground a gray blur that Harry took for an animal sped four-legged across the hall to sink its teeth into one of the fallen.
“NO!” shrieked Hermione, and with a deafening blast from her wand, Fenrir Greyback was thrown backward from the feebly struggling body of Lavender Brown. He hit the marble banisters and struggled to return to his feet. Then, with a bright white flash and a crack, a crystal ball fell on top of his head, and he crumpled to the ground and did not move.
“I have more!” shrieked Professor Trelawney from over the banisters. “More for any who want them! Here–” And with a move like a tennis serve, she heaved another enormous crystal sphere from her bag, waved her wand through the air, and caused the ball to speed across the hall and smash through a window. At the same moment, the heavy wooden front doors burst open, and more of the gigantic spiders forced their way into the front hall.
Screams of terror rent the air: the fighters scattered, Death Eaters and Hogwartians alike, and red and green jets of light flew into the midst of the oncoming monsters, which shuddered and reared, more terrifying than ever.
“How do we get out?” yelled Ron over all the screaming, but before either Harry or Hermione could answer they were bowled aside; Hagrid had come thundering down the stairs, brandishing his flowery pink umbrella.
“Don’t hurt ‘em, don’t hurt ‘em!” he yelled.
“HAGRID, NO!”
Harry forgot everything else: he sprinted out from under the cloak, running bent double to avoid the curses illuminating the whole hall.
“HAGRID, COME BACK!”
But he was not even halfway to Hagrid when he saw it happen: Hagrid vanished amongst the spiders, and with a great scurrying, a foul swarming movement, they retreated under the onslaught of spells, Hagrid buried in their midst.
“HAGRID!” Harry heard someone calling his own name, whether friend or foe he did not care: He was springing down the front steps into the dark grounds, and the spiders were swarming away with their prey, and he could see nothing of Hagrid at all.
“HAGRID!”
He thought he could make out an enormous arm waving from the midst of the spider swarm, but as he made to chase after them, his way was impeded by a monumental foot, which swung down out of the darkness and made the ground on which he stood shudder. He looked up: A giant stood before him, twenty feet high, its head hidden in shadow, nothing but its treelike, hairy shins illuminated by light from the castle doors. With one brutal, fluid movement, it smashed a massive fist through an upper window, and glass rained down upon Harry, forcing him back under the shelter of the doorway.
“Oh my–!” shrieked Hermione, as she and Ron caught up with Harry and gazed upward at the giant now trying to seize people through the window above.
“DON’T!” Ron yelled, grabbing Hermione’s hand as she raised her wand. “Stun him and he’ll crush half the castle–”
“HAGGER?”
Grawp came lurching around the corner of the castle; only now did Harry realize that Grawp was, indeed, an undersized giant. The gargantuan monster trying to crush people on the upper floors turned around and let out a roar. The stone steps trembled as he stomped toward his smaller kin, and Grawp’s lopsided mouth fell open, showing yellow, half brick-sized teeth; and then they launched themselves at each other with the savagery of lions.
“RUN!” Harry roared; the night was full of hideous yells and blows as the giants wrestled, and he seized Hermione’s hand and tore down the steps into the grounds, Ron bringing up the rear. Harry had not lost hope of finding and saving Hagrid; he ran so fast that they were halfway toward the forest before they were brought up short again.
The air around them had frozen: Harry’s breath caught and solidified in his chest. Shapes moved out in the darkness, swirling figures of concentrated blackness, moving in a great wave towards the castles, their faces hooded and their breath rattling…
Ron and Hermione closed in beside him as the sounds of fighting behind them grew suddenly muted, deadened, because a silence only dementors could bring was falling thickly through the night, and Fred was gone, and Hagrid was surely dying or already dead…
“Come on, Harry!” said Hermione’s voice from a very long way away.
“Patronuses, Harry, come on!”
He raised his wand, but a dull hopelessness was spreading throughout him: How many more lay dead that he did not yet know about? He felt as though his soul had already half left his body….
“HARRY, COME ON!” screamed Hermione.
A hundred dementors were advancing, gliding toward them, sucking their way closer to Harry’s despair, which was like a promise of a feast…
He saw Ron’s silver terrier burst into the air, flicker feebly, and expire; he saw Hermione’s otter twist in midair and fade, and his own wand trembled in his hand, and he almost welcomed the oncoming oblivion, the promise of nothing, of no feeling…
And then a silver hare, a boar, and fox soared past Harry, Ron, and Hermione’s heads: the dementors fell back before the creatures’ approach. Three more people had arrived out of the darkness to stand beside them, their wands outstretched, continuing to cast Patronuses: Luna, Ernie, and Seamus.
“That’s right,” said Luna encouragingly, as if they were back in the Room of Requirement and this was simply spell practice for the D.A. “That’s right, Harry…come on think of something happy…”
“Something happy?” he said, his voice cracked.
“We’re all still here,” she whispered, “we're still fighting. Come on, now….”
There was a silver spark, then a wavering light, and then, with the greatest effort it had ever cost him the stag burst from the end of Harry’s wand. It cantered forward, and now the dementors scattered in earnest, and immediately the night was mild again, but the sounds of the surrounding battle were loud in his ears.
“Can’t thank you enough,” said Ron shakily, turning to Luna, Ernie, and Seamus “you just saved–”
With a roar and an earth-quaking tremor, another giant came lurching out of the darkness from the direction of the forest, brandishing a club taller than any of them.
“RUN!” Harry shouted again, but the others needed no telling; They all scattered, and not a second too soon, for the next moment the creature’s vast foot had fallen exactly where they had been standing. Harry looked round: Ron and Hermione were following him, but the other three had vanished back into the battle. “Let’s get out of range!” yelled Ron as the giant swung its club again and its bellows echoed through the night, across the grounds where bursts of red and green light continued to illuminate the darkness.
“The Whomping willow,” said Harry, “go!” Somehow he walled it all up in his mind, crammed it into a small space into which he could not look now: thoughts of Fred and Hagrid, and his terror for all the people he loved, scattered in and outside the castle, must all wait, because they had to run, had to reach the snake and Voldemort, because that was, as Hermione said, the only way to end it –
He sprinted, half-believing he could outdistance death itself, ignoring the jets of light flying in the darkness all around him, and the sound of the lake crashing like the sea, and the creaking of the Forbidden Forest though the night was windless; through grounds that seemed themselves to have risen in rebellion, he ran faster than he had ever moved in his life, and it was he who saw the great tree first, the Willow that protected the secret at its roots with whiplike, slashing branches. Panting and gasping, Harry slowed down, skirting the willow’s swiping branches, peering through the darkness toward its tick trunk, trying to see the single knot in the bark of the old tree that would paralyze it. Ron and Hermione caught up, Hermione so out of breath that she could not speak.
“How – how’re we going to get in?” panted Ron. “I can – see the place – if we just had – Crookshanks again –”
“Crookshanks?” wheezed Hermione, bent double, clutching her chest. “Are you a wizard, or what?”
“Oh – right – yeah –”
Ron looked around, then directed his wand at a twig on the ground and said “Winguardium Leviosa!” The twig flew up from the ground, spun through the air as if caught by a gust of wind, then zoomed directly at the trunk through the Willow’s ominously swaying branches. It jabbed at a place near the roots, and at once, the writhing tree became still. “Perfect!” panted Hermione. “Wait.”
For one teetering second, while the crashes and booms of the battle filled the air, Harry hesitated. Voldemort wanted him to do this, wanted him to come…Was he leading Ron and Hermione into a trap? But the reality seemed to close upon him, cruel and plain: the only way forward was to kill the snake, and the snake was where Voldemort was, and Voldemort was at the end of this tunnel…
“Harry, we’re coming, just get in there!” said Ron, pushing him forward.
Harry wriggled into the earthy passage hidden in the tree’s roots.
It was a much tighter squeeze than it had been the last time they had entered it. The tunnel was low-ceilinged: they had had to double up to move through it nearly four years previously; now there was nothing for it but to crawl. Harry went first, his wand illuminated, expecting at any moment to meet barriers, but none came. They moved in silence, Harry’s gaze fixed upon the swinging beam of the wand held in his fist. At last, the tunnel began to slope upward and Harry saw a sliver of light ahead. Hermione tugged at his ankle.
“The Cloak!” she whispered. “Put the Cloak on!”
He groped behind him and she forced the bundle of slippery cloth into his free hand. With difficulty he dragged it over himself, murmured, “Nox,” extinguishing his wandlight, and continued on his hands and knees, as silently as possible, all his senses straining, expecting every second to be discovered, to hear a cold clear voice, see a flash of green light.
And then he heard voices coming from the room directly ahead of them, only slightly muffled by the fact that the opening at the end of the tunnel had been blocked up by what looked like an old crate. Hardly daring to breathe, Harry edged right up tot he opening and peered through a tiny gap left between crate and wall.
The room beyond was dimly lit, but he could see Nagini, swirling and coiling like a serpent underwater, safe in her enchanted, starry sphere, which floated unsupported in midair. He could see the edge of a table, and a long-fingered white hand toying with a wand.
Then Snape spoke, and Harry’s heart lurched: Snape was inches away from where he crouched, hidden.
“…my Lord, their resistance is crumbling –”
“– and it is doing so without your help,” said Voldemort in his high, clear voice. “Skilled wizard though you are, Severus, I do not think you will make much difference now. We are almost there…almost.”
“Let me find the boy. Let me bring you Potter. I know I can find him, my Lord. Please.”
Snape strode past the gap, and Harry drew back a little, keeping his eyes fixed upon Nagini, wondering whether there was any spell that might penetrate the protection surrounding her, but he could not think of anything. One failed attempt, and he would give away his position…
Voldemort stood up. Harry could see him now, see the red eyes, the flattened, serpentine face, the pallor of him gleaming slightly in the semidarkness.
“I have a problem, Severus,” said Voldemort softly.
“My Lord?” said Snape.
Voldemort raised the Elder Wand, holding it as delicately and precisely as a conductor’s baton.
“Why doesn’t it work for me, Severus?”
In the silence Harry imagined he could hear the snake hissing slightly as it coiled and uncoiled–or was it Voldemort’s sibilant sigh lingering on the air?
“My – my lord?” said Snape blankly. “I do not understand. You – you have performed extraordinary magic with that wand.”
“No,” said Voldemort. “I have performed my usual magic. I am extraordinary, but this wand…no. It has not revealed the wonders it has promised. I feel no difference between this wand and the one I procured from Ollivander all those years ago.”
Voldemort’s tone was musing, calm, but Harry’s scar had begun to throb and pulse: Pain was building in his forehead, and he could feel that controlled sense of fury building inside Voldemort.
“No difference,” said Voldemort again.
Snape did not speak. Harry could not see his face. He wondered whether Snape sensed danger, was trying to find the right words to reassure his master.
Voldemort started to move around the room: Harry lost sight of him for seconds as he prowled, speaking in that same measured voice, while the pain and fury mounted in Harry.
“I have thought long and hard, Severus…do you know why I have called you back from battle?”
And for a moment Harry saw Snape’s profile. His eyes were fixed upon the coiling snake in its enchanted cage.
“No, my Lord, but I beg you will let me return. Let me find Potter.”
“You sound like Lucius. Neither of you understands Potter as I do. He does not need finding. Potter will come to me. I knew his weakness you see, his one great flaw. He will hate watching the others struck down around him, knowing that it is for him that it happens. He will want to stop it at any cost. He will come.”
“But my Lord, he might be killed accidentally by someone other than yourself–”
“My instructions to the Death Eaters have been perfectly clear. Capture Potter. Kill his friends – the more, the better – but do not kill him.”
“But it is of you that I wished to speak, Severus, not Harry Potter. You have been very valuable to me. Very valuable.”
“My Lord knows I seek only to serve him. But – let me go and find the boy, my Lord. Let me bring him to you. I know I can –”
“I have told you, no!” said Voldemort, and Harry caught the glint of red in his eyes as he turned again, and the swishing of his cloak was like the slithering of a snake, and he felt Voldemort’s impatience in his burning scar. “My concern at the moment, Severus, is what will happen when I finally meet the boy!”
“My Lord, there can be no question, surely –?”
“– but there is a question, Severus. There is.”
Voldemort halted, and Harry could see him plainly again as he slid the Elder Wand through his white fingers, staring at Snape.
“Why did both the wands I have used fail when directed at Harry Potter?”
“I – I cannot answer that, my Lord.”
“Can’t you?”
The stab of rage felt like a spike driven through Harry’s head: he forced his own fist into his mouth to stop himself from crying out in pain. He closed his eyes, and suddenly he was Voldemort, looking into Snape’s pale face.
“My wand of yew did everything of which I asked it, Severus, except to kill Harry Potter. Twice it failed. Ollivander told me under torture of the twin cores, told me to take another’s wand. I did so, but Lucius’s wand shattered upon meeting Potter’s.”
“I – I have no explanation, my Lord.”
Snape was not looking at Voldemort now. His dark eyes were still fixed upon the coiling serpent in its protective sphere.
“I sought a third wand, Severus. the Elder Wand, the Wand of Destiny, the Deathstick. I took it from its previous master. I took it from the grave of Albus Dumbledore.”
And now Snape looked at Voldemort, and Snape’s face was like a death mask. it was marble white and so still that when he spoke, it was a shock to see that anyone lived behind the blank eyes.
“My Lord – let me go to the boy –”
“All this long night when I am on the brink of victory, I have sat here,” said Voldemort, his voice barely louder than a whisper, “wondering, wondering, why the Elder Wand refuses to be what it ought to be, refuses to perform as legend says it must perform for its rightful owner…and I think I have the answer.”
Snape did not speak.
“Perhaps you already know it? You are a clever man, after all, Severus. You have been a good and faithful servant, and I regret what must happen.”
“My Lord–”
“The Elder Wand cannot serve me properly, Severus, because I am not its true master. The Elder Wand belongs to the wizard who killed its last owner. You killed Albus Dumbledore. While you live, Severus, the Elder Wand cannot truly be mine.”
“My Lord!” Snape protested, raising his wand.
“It cannot be any other way,” said Voldemort. “I must master the wand, Severus. Master the wand, and I master Potter at last.”
And Voldemort swiped the air with the Elder Wand. It did nothing to Snape, who for a split second seemed to think he had been reprieved: but then Voldemort’s intention became clear. The snake’s cage was rolling through the air, and before Snape could do anything more than yell, it had encased him, head and shoulders, and Voldemort spoke in Parseltongue.
“Kill.”
There was a terrible scream. Harry saw Snape’s face losing the little color it had left; it whitened as his black eyes widened, as the snake’s fangs pierced his neck, as he failed to push the enchanted cage off himself, as his knees gave way and he fell to the floor.
“I regret it,” said Voldemort coldly.
He turned away; there was no sadness in him, no remorse. It was time to leave this shack and take charge, with a wand that would now do his full bidding. He pointed it at the starry cage holding the snake, which drifted upward, off Snape, who fell sideways onto the floor, blood gushing from the wounds in his neck. Voldemort swept from the room without a backward glance, and the great serpent floated after him in its huge protective sphere.
Back in the tunnel and his own mind, Harry opened his eyes; He had drawn blood biting down on his knuckles in an effort not to shout out. Now he was looking through the tiny crack between crate and wall, watching a foot in a black boot trembling on the floor.
“Harry!” breathed Hermione behind him, but he had already pointed his wand at the crate blocking his view. It lifted an inch into the air and drifted sideways silently. As quietly as he could, he pulled himself up into the room.
He did not know why he was doing it, why he was approaching the dying man: he did not know what he felt as he saw Snape’s white face, and the fingers trying to staunch the bloody wound at his neck. Harry took off the invisibility cloak and looked down upon the man he hated, whose widening black eyes found Harry as he cried to speak. Harry bent over him, and Snape seized the front of his robes and pulled him close.
A terrible rasping, gurgling noise issued from Snape’s throat.
“Take…it…Take…it…”
Something more than blood was leaking from Snape. Silvery blue, neither gas nor liquid, it gushed form his mouth and his ears and his eyes, and Harry knew what it was, but did not know what to do – A flask, conjured from thin air, was thrust into his shaking hand by Hermione. Harry lifted the silvery substance into it with his wand. When the flask was full to the brim, and Snape looked as though there was no blood left in him, his grip on Harry’s robes slackened.
“Look…at….me…” he whispered.
The green eyes found the black, but after a second, something in the depths of the dark pari seemed to vanish, leaving them fixed, blank, and empty. The hand holding Harry thudded to the floor, and Snape moved no more.
世界已经完了，否则为什么这场战斗还没有停止?城堡在一片惊恐中沉寂，每个决斗者都放下了他们的武器吗？
哈利的思路在下沉，不受控制地乱转，无法相信这不可能发生的事，因为弗雷德·韦斯莱是不会死的，他看到的那些一定是幻像——
紧接着，一个身影穿过学校一侧炸开的洞口掉了下来，从阴暗处冒出来许多咒语飞向他们，击在他们脑袋后面的墙上。“趴下！”哈利喊道，更多的咒语从黑暗中飞过。他和罗恩两人拽过赫敏把她推倒在地板上，可珀西却压在弗雷德的尸体上，不想让他受更多伤害，哈利吼道“珀西，快过来，我们必须离开这里！”他摇了摇头。
“珀西！”哈利看到罗恩抓住他大哥的肩膀把他拖起来，布满灰尘的脸上带着泪痕，但是珀西没有动，“珀西，你帮不了他！我们要——”
赫敏尖叫起来，哈利转过身，不需要问为什么了。一只像一辆小汽车那么大的巨型蜘蛛正试图从墙上的大洞中爬进来。阿拉戈克的一个后裔已经加入了这场战斗。
罗恩和哈利一起大声吼着，他们的咒语打在那怪物身上，把它击退了一步，它的长脚用可怕的速度移动着，消失在黑暗之中。
“它还带来了同伴！”哈利从墙上被咒语炸出来的洞向城堡边缘看了一眼，对其他人说。更多巨蜘蛛从禁林中解放出来，沿着楼一侧爬上来，爬进肯定被食死徒入侵的地方。哈利往下向它们发射昏迷咒，把领头的怪物撞到它的同伴中间，它们摇晃着掉下楼消失不见了。接着更多咒语射来飞向哈利的头顶，险险地擦过，他感到它们的力量吹动了他的头发。
“我们走，现在！”
哈利把赫敏推到他和罗恩的前面，弯腰把弗雷德的尸体夹在腋下。珀西意识到了哈利的举动，不再紧贴着尸体，过来帮忙：他们一起蹲下贴近地面来躲避飞向他们的咒语，一边把弗雷德的尸体拖到不显眼的地方。
“这里，”哈利说，他们把他安放在原先站着套盔甲的一个凹陷处。他不忍再多看弗雷德一眼，确保他的尸体已经被藏好后，他跟在罗恩和赫敏身后离开了。马尔福和高尔已经消失在走廊尽头，现在那里遍布着灰尘和掉落的石头，还有大块的窗玻璃，他看见许多人跑着向他们这边后退，无法辨认是朋友还是敌人。绕过墙角，珀西发出一声像公牛般的吼叫：“卢克伍德！”，便向一个正在追几个学生的高大男子疾步跑去。
“哈利，到这儿来！”赫敏尖声叫道。
她刚把罗恩推到一副挂毯后面。他们似乎扭打在一起，有那么疯狂的一秒钟，哈利还以为他们又拥抱了，随后他看到赫敏试图阻止罗恩，不让他跟在珀西后面跑过去。
“听我说——听着，罗恩！”
“我要去帮忙——我要杀了食死徒——”
他那沾上了尘土和灰的脸扭曲着，既愤怒又悲伤地不停地颤抖。
“罗恩，我们是唯一可以停止这一切的人！拜托——罗恩，我们需要那条蛇，我们必须去杀死那条蛇！”赫敏说道。
但是哈利明白罗恩是什么感觉：追击另一个魂器不能满足他的复仇欲望，他太想投入战斗了，去惩罚那个杀了弗雷德的人，他还想找到其他韦斯莱家的人，而最重要的是，确认，彻底确认，金妮没有——他不允许脑子里出现那个念头——
“我们会去战斗！”赫敏说，“我们也必须找到那条蛇！但是我们不能忘了我们被要求去做的事！我们是唯一可以停止这一切的人！”
她哭的太伤心了，一边用自己烧焦的破袖子擦掉脸上的眼泪像是要说话，却只是深深地吸了口气使自己冷静下来，仍然紧紧抓着罗恩，然后她转向哈利。“你需要找到伏地魔在哪里，他肯定会带着那条蛇，不是吗？这么做，哈利——进入他的大脑！”为什么这次那么容易？是因为他那灼烧了几个小时的伤疤渴望着向他展示伏地魔的思想吗？他听从她的命令，闭上眼，接着立刻，尖叫声和巨响声，还有所有战争中的不和谐的声音被淹没了，直到变得遥远了，就像他站在离它们很远很远的地方一样……
他正站在一个空荡荡的，却又异常熟悉的房间中央，四壁上带着剥落的墙纸，除了一扇窗户外其余都被钉上了木板。城堡内的袭击声像被盖住了隔得很远。那扇没被钉上的窗子里显示出远处城堡那儿发出的光亮，但是这个房间里却是一片黑暗，仅有一盏油灯。
他正用手指摆弄着魔杖，一边注视着它，他人在这儿心却在城堡，这个秘密的房间只是他刚发现的，像是间旧寝室，你得够聪明，够狡猾，有好奇心才能找到它……他自信那男孩不会找到这个王冠……尽管邓布利多的傀儡比他所料想的要走得更远……太远了……
“主人，”一个嘶哑的声音不顾一切地说道。他转过来：卢修斯·马尔福坐在屋子最阴暗的角落里，衣衫褴褛，依旧带着他上一次得知那个男孩逃走后惩罚他的痕迹。一只眼睛还肿得张不开。“主人……求求您……我儿子……”
“如果你的儿子死了，卢修斯，那不是我的错。他没有像剩下的斯莱特林一样来加入我。也许他决定和哈利·波特做朋友了？”
“不会——绝不会。”马尔福低声说。
“你最好希望他不会。”
“主人，您——您不怕波特可能死在另一个人而不是您的手上吗？”马尔福问道，他的声音颤抖着。“会不会……请原谅……停止这场战斗会更谨慎些，然后您——您亲自到城堡去找他？”
“别装了，卢修斯。你当然希望战斗停止后可以去看看你儿子怎么样了。但是我不需要去找波特。今晚之前，波特会不得不自己来找我的。”
伏地魔的目光再次落到指间的那根魔杖上。它困扰着他……那些困扰着伏地魔的事情都需要好好整理一遍……
“去把斯内普带来。”
“斯内普，主——主人？”
“斯内普。现在。我需要他。我需要他的——一个——帮助。快去。”
卢修斯害怕地，有点趔趄地穿过黑暗，离开了房间。伏地魔继续站在那儿，转动着指间的魔杖，他盯着它。
“只有这一条路，纳尼吉，”他轻声说，环视了一下四周，一条又粗又大的蛇正悬浮在半空，在他为她施了魔法保护的空间里--------一个大小介于发光的笼子和水池间的、布满星星的、透明的球体，优雅地盘旋着。
哈利喘着气回到了现实中，张开了眼睛，在同一时间，战斗的尖叫和哭喊声，碎裂和重击声冲击着他的耳朵。
“他在尖叫棚屋。那条蛇和他在一起，被某种魔法保护包围着。他刚刚派卢修斯·马尔福去找斯内普了。”
“伏地魔待在尖叫棚屋里？”赫敏用被侮辱的口气说，“他没有——他居然没有去战斗？”
“他认为他没有必要参战，”哈利说，“他觉得我会去找他的。”
“可是为什么呢？”
“他知道我在找下一个魂器——他把纳尼吉放在身边很近的地方——很明显我要得到他近旁的东西就不得不去找他。”
“没错，”罗恩挺了挺肩膀说，“他就是这么想的，现在正这样期待着，所以你不能去。你待在这儿照顾赫敏，我去抓住它——”
哈利拦住罗恩。
“你们两个待在这儿，我穿着隐形衣去，然后尽快回来——”
“不，”赫敏说，“我穿着隐形衣去会更好，然后——”
“想都别想，” 在赫敏进一步想说什么之前罗恩对她吼道。
“罗恩，我有这个能力——”正在这时他们站着的楼梯顶上的挂毯被撕开了。
“波特！”
两个戴着面具的食死徒站在那儿，然而在他们的魔杖还没举得够高前，赫敏叫道，“滑道立现！”
他们脚下的台阶变成了平滑的斜道，接着她、哈利和罗恩都从上面快速滑了下去，速度快得无法控制，以至于食死徒的昏迷咒从他们头顶上空很远的地方飞了过去。他们像子弹似的穿过那条遮蔽他们的挂毯，旋转着降落在地板上，然后撞到了对面的墙。
“石化！”赫敏用魔杖指着挂毯喊道，只听嘎吱嘎吱地响了两声，那挂毯随即变成了石头，压在了追击他们的食死徒身上。
“回来！”罗恩喊道，然后他、哈利和赫敏靠着一扇门卧倒，一边看到飞奔的麦格教授引着一大堆书桌轰隆隆地快速飞了过去。看起来她没有注意到他们，头发披散开来，脸颊上还有一个很深的伤口。当她拐过角落时，他们听到她尖叫道：“冲啊！”
“哈利，你穿上隐形衣，”赫敏说，“别管我们——”
但是他把隐形衣罩在了他们三个身上，尽管他们太大了，但他怀疑没人能通过遍布灰尘的空气、掉下来的石头和咒语发出的微光看到他们那没有身体的脚。
他们跑下另一层楼梯，发现自己来到了一个充满了决斗者的走廊里。当两个戴了面具的食死徒与没戴面具的教师和学生决斗时，不管哪一边的战士旁的肖像画里都挤满了人，尖叫着出主意和给予鼓励。迪安和多洛霍夫面对面，他已经给自己赢得了一根魔杖，帕瓦蒂对着特莱维尔。哈利、罗恩和赫敏立刻举起了他们的魔杖，准备战斗，但是来回奔跑着的决斗者太多了，如果他们发射咒语的话，会有很大可能伤到自己人。正当他们站着不动，找机会攻击时，传来响亮的一声“啊啊啊啊啊！”哈利抬头看去，皮皮鬼正急速上升着，把疙瘩藤的荚果丢到食死徒的头上，他们的脑袋立刻被像肥胖的毛毛虫似的蠕动着的绿色小疙瘩吞没了。
“嗷！”
一小撮疙瘩击中了隐形衣底下的罗恩的脑袋，罗恩试图抖落它们，粘糊糊的绿色的根须显得似乎不太可能地悬挂在半空中。
“有人隐身在那里！”一个戴面具的食死徒指着叫道。
但是迪安让大多数食死徒在那一瞬间分心了，他们正向他发射着昏迷咒，多洛霍夫企图报复，帕瓦蒂对他施了一个束缚咒。
“我们走！”哈利叫道，随后他、罗恩和赫敏顶着紧紧包裹着他们的隐形衣，或上或下地在战士们中间穿梭，经过一滩疙瘩藤的汁液时滑了一下，爬上大理石楼梯的顶部来到门厅里。
“我是德拉科·马尔福，我是德拉科，我是你们那边的人！”
德拉科在上面的平台上，向另一个戴面具的食死徒恳求。哈利在他们经过的时候击晕了那个食死徒：马尔福惊喜地看向四周，找着他的救星，罗恩隔着隐形衣戳了他一下。马尔福退了一步倒在了那个食死徒身上，嘴流着血，目瞪口呆。
“这是我们今天晚上第二次救了你的命了，你这个两面派的家伙！”罗恩叫道。
楼梯上和大厅里出现了更多的决斗者，哈利到处都看到食死徒：前门附近是亚克斯利，正和弗立维战斗，他们右边是金斯莱和一个戴面具的食死徒。学生们朝各个方向跑去，一些还扶着或拖着受伤的朋友。哈利对那个戴面具的食死徒发了个昏迷咒，没打到，反而差点击中纳威，他正出现每个角落挥舞着丢出大把的毒触手，它们开心地爬向最近的食死徒，开始盘绕在他身上。
哈利、罗恩和赫敏迅速爬下了大理石楼梯，在他们左边，斯莱特林沙漏的玻璃粉碎，记录学院分数的绿宝石洒得到处都是，以至于人们跑过的时候都连滚带爬的。来到地面时两个身影从他们头顶上方的阳台上掉了下来，哈利感觉一个像动物似的灰扑扑的东西用四肢飞快地穿过大厅，把牙齿深深地扎进其中一个掉下来的人身上。
“不！”赫敏尖声叫道，随着她魔杖里发出一阵震耳欲聋的爆炸声，芬里尔·格雷伯克从拉文德·布朗无力动弹的身体上被向后击飞了出去，撞到大理石栏杆上，挣扎着想站起来。然后，随着一道明亮的白光闪过，啪地一声，一个水晶球掉在了他的头上，把他砸倒在地上，不动了。
“我还有很多！”特里劳妮教授从栏杆上方尖声喊道，“有谁想要都可以！这儿——”
过了一会儿，就像是发网球似的，她从包里拿出一个巨大的水晶球，在空中挥了挥魔杖，那个球急速穿过大厅，打碎了一扇窗户。同一时间，木制的笨重的前门被炸开，许多巨蜘蛛用武力开路，爬进了门厅。
恐惧的尖叫声撕裂了空气，决斗者们都散开了，不管是食死徒还是霍格沃兹的人，都朝逼近的怪物们身上发射或红或绿的光，它们颤抖着立起来，显得从未有过的可怕。
“我们怎么出去？”罗恩盖过所有的尖叫声喊道，然而，在哈利或赫敏能够回答之前，他们都被挤到一边：海格走下阶梯，发出雷鸣般的巨响，挥舞着他那把粉红色的花伞。
“别伤害他们，别伤害他们！”他大声叫道。
“海格，不！”
哈利忘记了一切，飞快地从隐形衣下面跑出来，弯下半个身子奔跑着，避开那些照亮了整个大厅的咒语。
“海格，回来！”
他甚至还没有跑到一半，就看到了所发生的事，海格在蜘蛛中间消失了，随着一个大转弯，一阵恶心的爬动，它们在咒语的冲击下撤退了，海格被掩在它们中间。
“海格！”
哈利听到有人在叫他的名字，不关心是朋友还是敌人，他飞也似的跑下前面的台阶来到昏暗的场地上，随后蜘蛛带着它们掠夺来的牺牲品蜂拥出来，哈利根本没有看到海格的任何踪迹。
“海格！”
他觉得他认出了在蜘蛛群中摆动着的一只巨大手臂，然而当他试图去追赶它们的时候，却被从黑暗中晃动着走了出来的，一只印象深刻的大脚挡住了去路，他站着的大地正抖动着。他抬头看去：一个巨人站在他面前，二十英尺高，脑袋隐在了城堡大门的阴影里。在城堡内亮光的照耀下，可以看到那长满了毛发、像树一样的胫骨。它挥动着一只结实的拳头打碎了上面的一扇窗户，碎玻璃像雨一样洒向哈利，迫使他退回门口的遮蔽处。
“哦，我的——！”赫敏尖叫道，她和罗恩刚追上哈利，抬头盯着那个正试图通过上方那扇窗户抓人的巨人。
“不要！”罗恩喊道，拉住赫敏正举起魔杖的手，“如果击昏他，他会压塌半座城堡——”
“哈格？”
格洛普在城堡的一角徘徊，哈利现在才明白格洛普完全只是一个还年幼的巨人。这个庞大的怪物发出了一声咆哮，试图把在上面几层张望的人群碾碎。他对那些小得多的同类跺了跺脚，石头地板抖了几抖，格洛普那歪斜的嘴巴向下咧着，露出半块砖头般大小的黄牙，于是他们像充满野性的狮子那样准备采取行动了。
“跑！”哈利吼道，这个夜里充满着恐惧的尖叫和好似巨人格斗般发出的风声，他抓着赫敏的手飞奔着冲下台阶来到场地上，罗恩随后跟着。哈利还没有放弃发现和拯救海格的希望，他跑得那样快，以至他们刚到达后很快就已经跑在通向林子的路上了。
他们周围的空气冷了下来，哈利吸进去的空气在胸腔里凝结了。黑暗中出现了几个影子，漆黑的身形旋转着，成群结队地向城堡方向飘去，它们的脸上罩着兜帽，呼吸声格格作响……
罗恩和赫敏站在他附近，他们身后的战斗声突然变弱，完全消失了，因为一种只有摄魂怪才能带来的寂静降临了，厚厚地包围了整个夜空……
“快，哈利！”是赫敏的声音，好像是从很远的地方传来，“守护神咒，哈利，快！”
他举起魔杖，然而一种充满阴暗的绝望在他的身上散播开来：弗雷德走了，海格也确实奄奄一息或者已经死了，还有更多他不知道的人在垂死挣扎，他感到他的灵魂似乎也已有一半离开了身体……
“哈利，快！”赫敏尖叫道。
一百多个摄魂怪在前进，向他们这里滑行，一路吸收着快乐接近哈利，把绝望带给他，就像答应带他赴一场盛宴……
他看见罗恩银色的猎狗在空中突然出现，微弱地闪了闪，然后消失不见；他看见赫敏银色的水獭在半空中扭动，变淡了，还有他自己的魔杖在手中颤抖，他几乎要迎接这即将到来的湮没，什么都不必承诺，什么都感觉不到……
接着，一只银色的野兔、一只野猪、一只狐狸从哈利、罗恩和赫敏的脑袋旁飞过，摄魂怪在这些动物逼近前退却了。又有三个人从黑暗中出现站到他们身边，他们伸出魔杖，继续发出他们的守护神，是卢娜、厄尼和西莫。
“对，”卢娜鼓励地说，好像他们又回到了有求必应屋，这只是D·A的一次咒语练习。“就是这样，哈利……快，想想高兴的事……”
“高兴的事？”哈利说，声音是嘶哑的。
“我们都还在这儿，”她低声说，“我们仍然在战斗。快，现在……”
有一阵银色的火花，然后是一道摇曳的光芒，再接下来，凭着从未有过的努力，那只牡鹿突然从哈利的魔杖中出现。它向前慢跑着，摄魂怪纷纷散开，立刻，淡淡的夜幕又回来了，而周围战斗的声音也在他的耳朵里变得更响。
“真是感激不尽，”罗恩转向卢娜、厄尼和西莫，虚弱地说，“你们刚刚救了——”
随着一声咆哮，一阵地震般的抖动，另一个巨人从禁林方向的黑暗里蹒跚着走出来，挥舞着一根比他们任何一个人都要高的棍子。
“跑！”哈利再次叫道，不过其他人已经不需要告诉，都分散了开来，还不到一秒钟，下一刻那个生物巨大的脚已经结实地踩到了他们刚刚站着的地方。哈利看看周围，罗恩和赫敏跟在他后面，其他三人重新投入战斗，消失不见了。
“我们离他远一点！”罗恩喊道，这时巨人又挥舞着棍子，发出的气流声在夜空中回荡，他走了过去，所经之处仍爆发着红绿光芒。
“打人柳那里！”哈利说道，“快走！”
不知何故，他的思想被彻底包围，充斥着他现在无法看清的一个小空间，关于弗雷德和海格的思考，对所有他爱的人的担忧，城堡内外的生离死别……都被驱散了。因为他们必须奔跑，必须到那条蛇、还有伏地魔那里去，因为正如赫敏所说的，这是可以停止一切的唯一方法——
他急速跑着，差不多有一半相信自己已把死亡抛在身后，不再理会周围正飞向黑暗的大束光芒。发出碰撞声的湖就像大海一样，尽管无风的夜晚，禁林也在嘎吱作响，穿过似乎要自动投入战斗的场地，哈利用一生中最快的速度奔跑着，最先看见了那棵大树——打人柳用像鞭子一样挥着的枝条保护着它根部的秘密。
哈利气喘吁吁地放慢了速度，绕着打人柳用力抽打着的枝条走，透过黑暗向它粗壮的树干看去，试着寻找这棵老树的上那唯一可以让它瘫痪的节疤。罗恩和赫敏赶了上来，赫敏喘得根本说不出话。
“怎么——我们要怎么进去？”罗恩指着它说，“我可以——看到那个地方——如果我们——能再让克鲁克山——”
“克鲁克山？”赫敏艰难地喘着气，弯下了半个身子，抓着胸口，“你是个巫师吗？还是什么别的东西？”
“哦——对——是啊——”
罗恩看看四周，然后用魔杖指着地上的一根小树枝，说道：“羽加迪姆
勒维奥萨！”那根树枝从地上飞起来，像被狂风带动似的旋转着，急速上升到树干处，穿入打人柳正疯狂抽动着的枝条，径直对着根部附近的地方猛戳了一下，打人柳立刻静止不动了。
“漂亮！”赫敏喘着气说。
“等等。”
在那摇摇欲坠的一瞬间，当战斗的爆炸声和撞击声四处传来时，哈利犹豫了。伏地魔想让他这么做，想让他来……他是领着罗恩和赫敏跳入了一个陷阱吗？
但是现实似乎使他结束了思考，简单而又残酷：前进的唯一方法是杀了那条蛇，而有蛇的地方就有伏地魔，伏地魔就在这条隧道的尽头……
“哈利，我们进来了，快到里面去！”罗恩说，一边往前推他。
哈利在隐藏在树根里的泥土通道里蜿蜒行进着。它比他们上次来时更挤了些。隧道的天花板很低，四年前他们不得不低下半个身体来通过，而现在他们除了爬之外也没有别的办法。哈利在第一个，他用魔杖来照明，本以为随时都会碰到障碍，然而一个也没有。他们无声地移动着，哈利的目光一直集中在紧握着的魔杖上。
终于，通道的上方变成了斜坡，哈利看见前方有一条光线。赫敏吃力地拉着他的脚踝。
“隐形衣！”她低声说，“穿上隐形衣！”
他摸索着身后，赫敏把包好的光滑的织物塞到他那只空着的手里。他艰难地套到身上，咕哝道：“诺克斯，”魔杖的光熄灭了，他继续靠手和膝盖移动，尽可能安静，他的所有感官都绷紧了，准备着随时被发现，听到一个冷冷的声音，看到一道绿光闪过。
随后，他听到他们正前方的屋子传来了说话声，稍微有点儿压抑，因为通道的出口被一个看起来像是旧的柳条箱似的东西堵住了。哈利几乎不敢呼吸，向出口的右侧缓缓挪动，通过墙和箱子间的一条小缝向外看去。
这间屋子光线朦胧，不过他还是可以看到纳尼吉，如同一条在水底的蛇似的盘旋扭动着，安全地待在她那施了魔法的、布满星星的球体里，不靠任何支持地漂浮在半空中。他可以看到一张桌子的边缘，一只有着细长手指的苍白的手正把玩着一根魔杖。接着斯内普开口了，哈利的心顿了一下，斯内普离他蜷缩着隐藏的地方只有几英寸。
“……主人，他们的抵抗正在崩溃——”
“——在没有你的帮助下，”伏地魔用他那高而清晰的嗓音说，“尽管你是个有能力的巫师，西弗勒斯，我不认为你现在还能有多大作用。我们的人几乎都在那里了……几乎。”
“让我去找那个男孩。让我去把波特带给你。我知道我能找到他，主人，求你。”
斯内普大步经过那条缝隙，哈利往回缩了缩，继续盯着上方的纳尼吉，想着有什么咒语可以穿透她周围的保护，然而他什么都想不出来。只要有一次失败的尝试，他就会暴露自己的所在……
伏地魔站起来，哈利现在可以看到他了，那红色的眼睛、扁平的蛇一样的脸，苍白的肤色在昏暗中微微地发亮。
“我有一个问题，西弗勒斯，”伏地魔轻声说。
“主人？”
伏地魔举起长老魔杖，姿势优美、准确地握着它，就像拿着一根指挥棒。
“为什么它在我这儿就没作用呢，西弗勒斯？”
一片寂静中，哈利觉得他可以听到那条正盘旋伸展着的蛇轻微的嘶嘶声，或者是伏地魔那咝咝的叹息声还停留在空气里？
“主——主人？”斯内普茫然地说，“我不明白。您——您已经用那根魔杖施展了非凡的魔法。”
“不，”伏地魔说，“我只施展了我平常的魔法。我是非凡的，而这根魔杖……不是，它还没有显示出它那传说中的奇妙威力。我并不觉得这根魔杖和我以前从奥里凡德那儿拿到的有任何不同。”
伏地魔的语气是沉思而平静的，但是哈利的伤疤开始抽动，额头上的疼痛在加强，他能感到伏地魔体内压抑着的愤怒在上升。
“没有任何不同。”伏地魔又一次说道。
斯内普没有说话，哈利看不见他的脸，他想知道斯内普是否感觉到了危险，或者正试着寻找合适的字眼来使他的主人平静。
伏地魔开始绕着房间走动，当他徘徊着时，哈利有一会儿无法看到他，他仍然用那种缓慢的语调在说话，而哈利体内的疼痛和愤怒上升了。
“我辛苦地想了很久，西弗勒斯……你知道我为什么要把你从战斗中叫回来吗？”
有那么一会儿，哈利看到了斯内普的侧面，他的双眼正集中在魔法笼子里那条盘旋着的蛇身上。
“不知道，主人，但我请求您让我回去。让我去找波特。”
“你的话听上去像卢修斯。你们两个都不像我这样了解波特。他不需要去找。波特会到我这里来的。我清楚他的弱点，你看，他的一个重大缺陷。他不喜欢看着身边的人被打倒，他知道这一切都是因为他。所以他会不惜一切代价去阻止。他会来的。”
“但是主人，他可能被其他人误杀而不是您自己——”
“我对食死徒的指示已经相当明确了。抓住波特。杀了他的同伴——越多越好——但是不要杀死他。”
“但是我想谈的是你，西弗勒斯，不是哈利·波特。你对我非常有价值。非常有价值。”
“主人明白我去找只是为了服侍主人。但——让我去找那男孩，主人。让我把波特带来给你。我知道我能——”
“我告诉过你了，不行！”伏地魔说道，哈利看到他再次转身时眼睛里有红光在闪烁，他的斗篷发出嗖嗖声，就像是蛇在爬行，通过灼烧着的伤疤，他感到了伏地魔的不耐烦。“我现在关心的是，西弗勒斯，我最后碰见那个男孩时会发生什么呢？”
“主人，不会有任何问题，确实——”
“——但是有一个问题，西弗勒斯。有一个。”
伏地魔停住了，哈利可以再次清楚地看到他苍白的手指滑过那根长老魔杖，眼睛盯着斯内普。
“为什么我用过的那两根魔杖在指着哈利·波特时都失效了呢？”
“我——我无法回答，主人。”
“你不能吗？”
一阵刺痛像钉子一样穿过了哈利的头，他用力把拳头塞进嘴里，不让自己因为疼痛而叫出声来。他闭上了眼睛，然后突然间他变成了伏地魔，正看着斯内普苍白的脸。
“我的紫杉木魔杖在我的要求下可以做任何事情，西弗勒斯，除了杀死哈利·波特，两次都失败了，奥里凡德在折磨下告诉我孪生杖心的事，并建议我去换一根魔杖。我这么做了，但是卢修斯的魔杖在碰到波特的时也碎了。”
“我——我不能解释，主人。”
斯内普现在没有看着伏地魔。他黑色的眼睛仍旧集中在上方那条在保护球体里旋转的蛇身上。
“我找到了第三根魔杖，西弗勒斯。长老魔杖，命运之杖、死神的手杖。我从它的前任主人那里拿来——从阿不思·邓布利多的坟墓里拿来了。”
现在斯内普看向伏地魔了，斯内普的脸看上去像一张死人面具。白得像大理石，如此沉寂，以至于当他说话时会令人震惊地发现那双空洞的眼睛后面竟然还有一个活着的人。
“主人——让我去找那个男孩——”
“这一整个漫长的夜晚，当我在胜利的边缘时，我一直坐在这里，”伏地魔说，声音几乎不比耳语响多少，“疑惑着，疑惑着，为什么长老魔杖拒绝显示它应该具备的威力，拒绝像传说中的那样为它真正的主人效力……然后我想我找到了答案。”
斯内普没有说话。
“你也许已经明白了？毕竟，你是个聪明人，西弗勒斯。你曾经是个忠实的好仆人，我为这必须发生的事感到惋惜。”
“主人——”
“长老魔杖不能完全地为我服务，西弗勒斯，是因为我不是它真正的主人。长老魔杖属于杀死它上一个主人的巫师。你杀了阿不思·邓布利多。而你还活着，长老魔杖就无法真正为我所有。”
“主人！”斯内普抗议道，举起了他的魔杖。
“没有别的选择，”伏地魔说，“我必须掌控这根魔杖，西弗勒斯。掌控这根魔杖，那么最终我会掌控波特。”
伏地魔用魔杖对着空气重击了一下。它对斯内普没有影响，有那么一刹那，他似乎以为自己被饶恕了，然而伏地魔的用意马上就很清楚了。装着蛇的笼子滚动着穿过空中，在斯内普除了喊叫外来不及做其他任何事之前，笼子包住了他的头和肩膀。伏地魔用蛇佬腔说话了。
“杀。”
一阵恐怖的尖叫。哈利看见斯内普脸上剩余的一点血色也消失不见，同时黑色的眼睛骤然放大，蛇的毒牙穿透了他的脖子，他徒劳地挣脱套着他的魔法笼子，膝盖一软，倒在了地板上。
“我很遗憾，”伏地魔冷冷地说。
他转过身去，没有一点悲伤和愧疚。有了一根现在完全服从于他的魔杖，是时候离
| 欢迎访问英文小说网http://novel.tingroom.com |