Harry Potter and Deathly Hallows by J. K. Rowling

Author:J. K. Rowling [Rowling, J. K.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Youth Fantasy
ISBN: 9781551929767
Publisher: Raincoast Book Dist Ltd
Published: 2010-11-17T07:00:00+00:00

“I cam running after you! I called you! I begged you to come back” “I know,” Ron said, “Hermione, I’m sorry, I’m really—”

“Oh, you’re sorry!”

She laughed a high–pitched, out–of–control sound; Ron looked at Harry for help, but Harry merely grimaced his helplessness.

“You came back after weeks—weeks—and you think it’s all going to be all right if you just say sorry?”

“Well, what else can I say?” Ron shouted, and Harry was glad that Ron was fighting back.

“Oh, I don’t know!” yelled Hermione with awful sarcasm. “Rack your brains, Ron, that should only take a couple of seconds—”

“Hermione,” interjected Harry, who considered this a low blow, “he just saved my—”

“I don’t care!” she screamed. “I don’t care what he’s done! Weeks and weeks, we could have been dead for all he knew—”

“I knew you weren’t dead!” bellowed Ron, drowning her voice for the first time, and approaching as close as he could with the Shield Charm between them. “Harry’s all over the Prophet, all over the radio, they’re looking for you everywhere, all these rumors and mental stories, I knew I’d hear straight off if you were dead, you don’t know what it’s been like—”

“What it’s been like for you??

Her voice was not so shrill only bats would be able to hear it soon, but she had reached a level of indignation that rendered her temporarily speechless, and Ron seized his opportunity.

“I wanted to come back the minute I’d Disapparated, but I walked straight into a gang of Snatchers, Hermione, and I couldn’t go anywhere!”

“A gang of what?” asked Harry, as Hermione threw herself down into a chair with her arms and legs crossed so tightly it seemed unlikely that she would unravel them for several years.

“Snatchers,” said Ron. “They’re everywhere—gangs trying to earn gold by rounding up Muggle–borns and blood traitors, there’s a reward from the Ministry for everyone captured. I was on my own and I look like I might be school age; they got really excited, thought I was a Muggle–born in hiding. I had to talk fast to get out of being dragged to the Ministry.”

“What did you say to them?”

“Told them I was Stan Shunpike. First person I could think of.”

“And they believed that?”

“They weren’t the brightest. One of them was definitely part troll, the smell of him …”

Ron glanced at Hermione, clearly hopeful she might soften at this small instance of humor, but her expression remained stony above her tightly knotted limbs.

“Anyway, they had a row about whether I was Stan or not. It was a bit pathetic to be honest, but there were still five of them and only one of me, and they’d taken my wand. Then two of them got into a fight and while the others were distracted I managed to hit the one holding me in the stomach, grabbed his wand, Disarmed the bloke holding mine, and Disapparated. I didn’t do it so well. Splinched myself again”—Ron held up his right hand to show two missing fingernails: Hermione raised her eyebrows coldly—“and I came out miles from where you were.

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