Hermione and Ron were both staring at the wooden tablet in Harry's hand.
As he scribbled a reply, Harry explained quickly,
"Anne gave this to me. She said Hermione's phone might lose signal once we're out of the city. She's asking where we are right now!"
"Whew—" Ron let out a long breath, looking visibly relieved. Hermione looked the same.
"World Cup. Forest. Ron. Injured. Split up." Harry sent the message.
It took a while before words began to appear again on the wooden tablet.
"Stay. Evening. Seven o'clock. Find. Be safe."
Hermione leaned over to read the message, exhaled with relief, and jumped to her feet.
"Where are you going?" Ron asked.
"If we're staying here, I need to set up a few protective spells around us," she said, raising her wand. She began walking a wide circle around Harry and Ron, muttering incantations under her breath.
Harry noticed faint ripples in the air, as if Hermione were weaving a shimmer of heat across the clearing.
"Ward of safety… total protection… Muggle repelling charm… deafening barrier… You can bring out the tent now, Harry."
"Tent?"
"In the bag!"
"Oh." Harry got up, tucked the wooden tablet into his pocket, and summoned the tent with a flick of his wand. A heap of canvas, poles, and ropes came soaring out.
"Rise and assemble!" Hermione drew an intricate figure-eight motion with her wand. Instantly, the pile lifted into the air and unfolded itself, landing neatly on the ground as a fully pitched tent.
The final peg shot out of Harry's startled hand and drove itself into place with a soft thunk.
"Enemy trap ward, there." Hermione gave her wand a final flourish toward the sky.
"That's the best I can do. At least, if anyone comes near, we'll know."
Together, Harry and Hermione half-dragged, half-carried Ron into the tent.
Inside was astonishingly comfortable, a three-room suite complete with a spacious sitting area, soft carpets, a sofa, a tea table, even a small fireplace.
Tall porcelain vases stood by the walls, and a bright crystal chandelier hung from the ceiling. Sunlight streamed through the windows, gleaming off a richly patterned Turkish rug.
Ron's face was pale, and he still looked unwell, but even so, he couldn't help blurting,
"This place is brilliant!"
"Anne prepared it," Hermione said softly.
They helped Ron onto one of the beds. Still sweating, he looked around and managed a weak grin.
"This bedroom's at least twice the size of my room at the Burrow."
"All right, get some rest," Hermione said. "I'll make us some lunch."
Harry hadn't spoken since they came in. He pulled a chair to Ron's bedside and sat, staring blankly at the lamp on the nightstand.
Ron closed his eyes for a while, then said quietly,
"Harry—"
"Yeah? What is it?" Harry asked nervously. "Should I call Hermione?"
"No, don't. It's fine." Ron turned his head to look at him.
"It's not your fault, Harry."
"It is my fault." Harry's face fell, filled with guilt and disappointment.
"Maybe you were right about me. I am the kind of person who can't help playing the hero, and this time I've probably made an even bigger mess."
"Don't say that," said Ron. "You saved loads of people today. I saw plenty getting away."
"But what if they got caught again? And what about the Order? The whole plan was working, we could've just left. And now Grimmauld Place is exposed. Good thing we cleared it out; if any of the documents had been found—"
"Lunch is ready!" Hermione's voice called from outside. "Harry, I need your help!"
"Go on," said Ron. "I'm starving."
Harry nodded and stood.
Moments later, Hermione and Harry came back in, each carrying a tray.
Hermione helped Ron sit up and handed him a steaming bowl of noodles.
"Smells great!" Ron sniffed. "What is it?"
"Instant ramen, Japanese," Hermione said. "Anne packed two whole boxes. Just add hot water."
"Brilliant!" Ron took a sip of the broth.
"Wow! Better than Mum's spaghetti soup, Muggle food's amazing!"
Hermione smiled faintly and opened a tin of sardines.
"Want some fish?"
Ron nodded; color had started to return to his cheeks.
Harry silently ate his own noodles.
"Oh, wait!" Hermione suddenly exclaimed, startling both boys.
"What is it?" Harry asked.
"I nearly forgot!" Hermione set the tin down and dashed out of the room.
Harry and Ron exchanged a puzzled look.
"Here!" Hermione returned, holding something. Harry and Ron froze, the locket.
"Oh, Merlin, we actually got it!" Ron gasped, nearly choking on his noodles. "That was no small feat!"
Harry stood too, still holding his bowl, staring at the object dangling from Hermione's hand.
The locket hung from a silver chain, about the size of an egg. A lavish S glimmered on its surface, formed from tiny green gemstones.
It sparkled brilliantly in the light spilling through the bedroom window.
Hermione turned it over in her palm, examining it closely.
"I think it's still a Horcrux. No sign it's been destroyed, see? Not a trace of magical damage."
Harry set his noodles down on the chair and took the locket.
He turned it in his hands; it looked perfectly intact. He thought of the torn diary, and the cracked stone of the ring Dumbledore had destroyed.
"I think Kreacher was right," Harry said.
"We'll have to find a way to open it before we can destroy it."
He tried prying it open by hand, then tried several unlocking charms Hermione had once used on Regulus's bedroom door, but none worked.
He passed it to Hermione and Ron; they each tried in turn, equally unsuccessfully.
"But, you feel it, right?" Ron asked quietly, clutching the locket tight.
"Feel what?"
Ron handed it back.
After a moment, Harry understood. He could sense a faint throb pulsing through it,
Was it his own heartbeat? Or was there something inside the locket, beating like a tiny metal heart?
"What if we just smashed it with the Sword of Gryffindor?" Ron suggested.
Hermione calmly took another bite of noodles.
"No," Harry said quickly. "That's too reckless. We'll wait for Anne tonight, see what she thinks."
"Good idea." Ron polished off his bowl and asked if there was more.
Later that afternoon, Hermione sat on a small stool outside, reading The Tales of Beedle the Bard by the fading light.
An open Ancient Runes Dictionary lay beside her.
Harry sat on the grass nearby with Secrets of Advanced Dark Magic open across his knees, rereading the section on Horcruxes.
The day passed in deep quiet.
Whether it was Hermione's protective enchantments or simply that few people ever came here, the woods around them remained utterly still, only birds and squirrels stirred now and then.
By half past six, after dinner, Hermione paced anxiously outside the tent, clutching the wooden tablet. Her phone, as Anne had warned, showed no signal at all.
Darkness settled. The only light came from the faint glow spilling through the tent's seams, casting a pale streak across the grass.
Above them, stars slowly emerged, and low in the sky, bats fluttered back and forth.
Seven o'clock came. Still no message.
Hermione hesitated, thinking of sending one herself, but what if she distracted Anne? So she waited, peering into the dark forest from time to time.
Harry pushed aside the tent flap and came out.
"Any word from Anne?"
"Not yet," Hermione said, glancing nervously at her watch.
Just then, the wooden tablet in her hand flashed and grew warm.
Hermione's eyes locked on it. Harry leaned close.
Words appeared one by one:
"Here. Lumos. Safe. Two of us. Come. Find."
"Harry!" Hermione said instantly, gripping her wand. "Let's go find Anne!"
Harry nodded, drawing his own wand as they stepped beyond the boundary of the protective charms.
The moment they crossed, it was as though they'd walked through an invisible wall, the light and the tent behind them vanished. They stood alone in the dark forest.
"Wait, I'll mark the spot." Hermione waved her wand twice at a nearby tree. A faint, glowing triangle sank into the bark.
"All right. Lumos." Her wand-tip flared with a soft white glow.
Harry's wand was already lit.
"Let's go," he said.
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