The One Locket

Harry wrenched himself from the blistering, cold water. He took deep gulps as he tried to regain his composure.

“Ron?” Harry asked between gasps.

“What were you doing, Harry? Trying to get yourself killed?!” Ron exclaimed looking exhausted.

Ron sat up slowly, the water dripping off his sodden clothes. In his right hand he held the glittering, ruby-embedded sword of Godric Gryffindor. Ron stared at it wildly, almost looking afraid of the great weapon in his hand.

“Ron…you got it,” Harry gasped. Harry struggled to put on the rest of his clothes and tore the locket from his neck.

“Ron, come here!” Harry walked towards Ron with a slight limp and his hand held outwards with the locket nestled comfortably in between his fingers. For a moment, he forgot Ron’s treason and how he had left them because of that wretched locket; the locket that could turn the hearts of men.

“Harry – please – don’t bring that any closer,” Ron pleaded. He crawled backwards until his back hit the trunk of a tree. A look of apprehension and fear flitted across his face as he stared at the malevolent locket. Ron’s eyes closed as he remembered the earlier events.

Harry had approached him in the evening.

“Listen, Ron, Hermione and I think that the locket’s getting to you. Maybe its best if you take it off you know. Share the load,” Harry said with an earnest look in his eyes.

Share the load….share the load…share the load.

Ron gasped as he was brought out of his thoughts by the locket. Harry was now holding it merely inches away from his face. Ron shot Harry a look of disgust before speaking, “Why do you want to destroy it? I thought you wanted it all to yourself.”

Harry looked affronted as he spoke, “No, Ron, I just want to destroy it!”

“LIAR!”

Harry took a step back and examined Ron closely. He had shrunken up into a tiny, soaked ball. Harry could barely make out his eyes from the untamed mop of red hair. He could barely recognize him.

“Listen, Ron, let’s just destroy this thing once and for all, okay?” Harry said gently as to not excite Ron. Ron looked up at him, still apprehensive but with less aggression. After a minute or two, Ron nodded. He uncoiled himself and stood straight with a determined look in his eyes. He grasped the sword tightly, his heart beating furiously in his chest.

Harry could feel the pulsing of the locket in his hands. He knew it was only a matter of time now. He took a deep breath before holding the locket high into the air. At once, the ghastly image of the teenage Tom Riddle stood before Ron. Neither dead nor alive, the ghostly figure swayed with a sick sneer on his visage. Harry could not see what was going on because he shielded his face from the bright light that filled the dank forest.

“RON, DO IT!”

But Ron was gazing at the image in front of him in horror, “SWEET MOTHER OF MERLIN!”

Ron started shaking and dropped the sword muttering nonsense as he cowered before the image in front of him.

“Ron, why aren’t you doing anything?!?” Harry exclaimed as the locket slowly burned into his hand. He shouted again but it was to no avail as Ron was now rocking back and forth muttering to himself.

Honestly, it can’t have been that bad.

Harry dropped the locket to the ground and walked in front of Ron and tried to shake him to sanity. Once again, Harry failed as Ron did not seem to acknowledge his very presence. Shaking his head, Harry turned around to see what had caused Ron to fall into a seemingly comatose nature.

“SWEET MOTHER OF MERLIN!”

The sickening sneer of Tom Riddle had turned into two figures. Hermione and Ron were intertwined into what seemed to be a passionate embrace as they moved closer to –

Harry shut his eyes before he could see anymore. The world swayed beneath him as he fought the urge to vomit. Voldemort knew exactly what to project into their minds to cause them torture. Summoning up the courage to open his eyes, Harry carefully looked at Ron and with a great gulp of air, Harry punched Ron.

“Snap out of it! We have to destroy it!” Harry yelled furiously.

But for the third time Ron failed to move despite a growing bruise on his cheek. Harry rolled his eyes and struggled to his feet, picking up the sword.

“Someone has to do it,” Harry muttered, mostly to himself.

“Wait!”

Ron had finally come to his senses and stood with great effort. He looked as though he had aged nearly one hundred seconds.

“I have to do this Harry,” he said somberly. Harry stepped away and handed the sword delicately to Ron. Ron lifted the sword high into the air, ready to plunge it into the worst image possible. Just before he could start his downward motion however, something dark and terrible leapt out of the trees.

“AHH!” Ron yelled in anguish. Voldemort had revealed himself and bit off one of Ron’s fingers. Blood gushed profusely from the open wound. Ron howled in pain and clutched his bleeding hand to his chest.

“You!” Harry said, pointing Hermione’s wand to Voldemort.

“Yes, it is I, Lord Voldemort. Also known as Tom Riddle or the Dark Lord. Some also call me You-Know-Who and He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named while others just call me ‘AHHH!’” Voldemort said while brandishing his wand in one hand and holding the locket in the other.

Although frightened, Harry could not help but ask, “Why do they call you ’AHH!’?”

“Because that’s what people say when they see me you ungrateful little whelp.”

Confused, frightened, and slightly perplexed, Harry prepared himself for the onslaught of curses and jinxes that were undoubtedly going to be sent his way. But none of them came. Instead Voldemort eyed the Horcux greedily.

“Now let’s see what my younger self envisioned,” Voldemort said reverently to himself. He turned the locket to view the image and the red slits opened wide and Voldemort hissed as he gazed upon the treacherous and ghastly figures.

“SWEET MOTHER OF MERLIN!” Voldemort exclaimed and dropped the locket as though it was on fire. He quickly waved his wand and shouted, “Avada Kedavra!”

The jet of green light flew towards the locket but just before it could strike its target a branch fell from the adjacent tree. The branch deflected the green light and Harry watched as Voldemort’s eyes opened wide and Harry felt a stab of pity as Voldemort yelled in his last breath, “I HATE OBHWF!”

Not bothering to ponder on the mysterious but no doubt deadly acronym, Harry cautiously moved forward to the decrepit body. It lay unmoving next to the timely branch from the tree.

“HARRY!”

Harry heard Hermione’s voice and turned around to see a mane of brown hair tearing through the forest at breakneck speed.

“HERMIONE!”

Harry opened his arms wide and Hermione flung herself at him, sobbing in his chest.

“Harry – I saw – what happened – and – you were so brave!” Hermione said through hiccups, her voice slightly muffled against his chest.

“But – um – I didn’t really – do any-,”

“Oh, so modest!” Hermione interrupted. Harry closed his mouth and smoothed his hand over her back. She looked up at him through blurred eyes, a teardrop falling from one of her beautiful eyelashes. Instead of a blazing look, she gave Harry a soft, tender look full of love.

“Hermione…” Harry whispered softly.

“Harry…” Hermione breathed.

“I promise to read the stupid book…” Ron muttered still rocking back and forth.

Ignoring the ridiculous statement from the lone Weasley, Harry lowered his head, finally realizing what had been wrong. Everything had been wrong except for this moment. This moment was right. The pieces of the puzzle had finally come together and the answer stood in front of him in the form of a shining beacon of love and hope. His lips almost met hers but they were interrupted by a yell.

“You will not!” Ginny Weasley yelled.

“Ginny?” Harry said in disbelief.

“Ginny…” Hermione muttered angrily.

“SssssSsssSsss” Ron said in Parseltongue. Harry stared at him incredulously for a moment before turning to Ginny.

“Listen, Ginny, I don’t think you should be here,” Harry said cautiously.

“Don’t you understand Harry? It was I who set you up. It was I who sent Voldemort here and it is I who will finally kill the Boy-Who-Had-A-Chest-Monster,” Ginny said in a deep, ominous voice her eyes ablaze with a predatory look.

Suddenly, just as Bathila had done earlier, Ginny’s head fell apart and out came a blistering eye. One single, narrow pupil was in its center and it seemed to be aflame with the evils of the world. Harry knew what he had to do. He reached for the pouch around his neck and pulled out the Snitch.

“No one likes Mary Sues.”

The Snitch transformed into an enormous pumpkin pie. Harry cocked his arm back and threw it as hard as he could towards the center of the eye. On and on it flew towards the evil eye. Time slowed down as all Harry could register was the pumpkin pie’s rotation as it soared towards its target.

With a deafening boom, the eye exploded on contact. A ripple of air passed through Harry and knocked him off his feet. He was careful to cover his body over Hermione’s so she would be safe.

When the dust settled, Harry helped Hermione to her feet and surveyed the surroundings. The forest had been cleared and on the horizon the sun was rising. Ron now lay on his side like an injured turtle still speaking to himself, “Hugo…now that’s a great name.”

He felt a hand on his arm and turned around to see Hermione’s shining face looking up at him. The birds were twittering softly in the background as roses bloomed from the ground. The trees were quickly growing fresh, green leaves and in the distance Harry could hear the soft, melodic strings of the harp.

“Oh, Harry,” Hermione said softly with a smile on her face.

Harry did not waste any time as he grabbed her face and looked into her eyes. It could have been minutes, seconds, milliseconds, nanoseconds before he finally kissed her. The blood roared in his ears and other places in his body as he finally felt completion.

All was finally well.