down upon them； so that even their sheltered clearing had a fresh dusting of powdery snow。
After two nights of little sleep； Harry's senses seemed more alert than usual。 Their escape from Godric's Hollow had been so narrow that Voldemort seemed somehow closer than before； more threatening。 As darkness drove in again Harry refused Hermione's offer to keep watch and told her to go to bed。
Harry moved an old cushion into the tent mouth and sat down； wearing all the sweaters he owned but even so； still shivery。 The darkness deepened with the passing hours until it was virtually impenetrable。 He was on the point of taking out the Marauder's Map； so as to watch Ginny's dot for a while； before he remembered that it was the Christmas holidays and that she would be back at the Burrow。
Every tiny movement seemed magnified in the vastness of the forest。 Harry knew that it must be full of living creatures； but he wished they would all remain still and silent so that he could separate their innocent scurryings and prowlings from noises that might proclaim other； sinister movements。 He remembered the sound of a cloak slithering over dead leaves many years ago； and at once thought he heard it again before mentally shaking himself。 Their protective enchantments had worked for weeks； why should they break now？ And yet he could no throw off the feeling that something was different tonight。
Several times he jerked upright； his neck aching because he had fallen asleep； slumped at an awkward angle against the side of the tent。 The night reached such a depth of velvety blackness that he might have been suspended in limbo between Disapparation and Apparation。 He had just held a hand in front of his face to see whether he could make out his fingers when it happened。
A bright silver light appeared right ahead of him； moving through the trees。 Whatever the source； it was moving soundlessly。 The light seemed simply to drift toward him。
He jumped to his feet； his voice frozen in his throat； and raised Hermione's wand。 He screwed up his eyes as the light became blinding； the trees in front of it pitch black in silhouette； and still the thing came closer。。。。
And then the source of the light stepped out from behind an oak。 It was a silver white doe； moon…bright and dazzling； picking her way over the ground； still silent； and leaving no hoofprints in the fine powdering of snow。 She stepped toward him； her beautiful head with its wide； long…lashed eyes held high。
Harry stared at the creature； filled with wonder； not at her strangeness； but her inexplicable familiarity。 He felt that he had been waiting for her to e； but that he had forgotten； until this moment； that they had arranged to meet。 His impulse to shout for Hermione； which had been so strong a moment ago； had gone。 He knew； he would have staked his life on it； that she had e for him； and him alone。
They gazed at each other for several long moments and then she turned and walked away。
〃No；〃 he said； and his voice was cracked with lack of use。 〃e back！〃
She continued to step deliberately through the trees； and soon he brightness was striped by their thick black trunks。 For one trembling second he hesitated。 Caution murmured it could be a trick； a lure； a trap。 But instinct； overwhelming instinct； told him that this was not Dark Magic。 He set off in pursuit。
Snow crunched beneath his feet； but the doe made no noise as she passed through the trees； for she was nothing but light。 Deeper and deeper into the forest she led him； and Harry walked quickly； sure that when she stopped； she would allow him to approach her properly。 And then she would speak and the voice would tell him what he needed to know。
At last she came to a halt。 She turned her beautiful head toward him once more； and he broke into a run； a question burning in him； but as he opened his lips to ask it； she vanished。
Though the darkness had swallowed her whole； her burnished image was still imprinted on his retinas； it obscured his vision； brightening when he lowered his eyelids； disorienting him。 Now fear came： Her presence had meant safety。
〃iLumos！i〃 he whispered； and the wand…tip ignited。
The imprint of the doe faded away with every blink of his eyes as he stood there； listening to the sounds of the forest； to distant crackles of twigs； soft swishes of snow。 Was he about to be attacked？ Had she enticed him into an ambush？ Was he imagining that somebody stood beyond the reach of the wandlight； watching him？
He held the wand higher。 Nobody ran out at him； no flash of green light burst from behind a tree。 Why； then； had she led him to this spot？
Something gleamed in the light of the wand； and Harry spun about； but all that was there was a small； frozen pool； its black； cracked surface glittering as he raised his wand higher to examine it。
He moved forward rather cautiously and looked down。 The ice reflected his distorted shadow and the beam of wandlight； but deep below the thick； misty gray carapace； something else glinted。 A great silver cross。。。
His heart skipped into his mouth： He dropped to his knees at the pool's edge and angled the wand so as to flood the bottom of the pool with as much light as possible。 A
glint of deep red。。。It was a sword with glittering rubies in its hilt。。。。The sword of Gryffindor was lying at the bottom of the forest pool。
Barely breathing； he stared down at it。 How was this possible？ How could it have e to be lying in a forest pool； this close to the place where they were camping？ Had some unknown magic drawn Hermione to this spot； or was the doe； which he had taken to be a Patronus； some kind of guardian of the pool？ Or had the sword been put into the pool after they had arrived； precisely because they were here？ In which case； where was the person who wanted to pass it to Harry？ Again he directed the wand at the surrounding trees and bushes； searching for a human outline； for the glint of an eye； but he could not see anyone there。 All the same； a little more fear leavened his exhilaration as he returned his attention to the sword reposing upon the bottom of the frozen pool。
He pointed the wand at the silvery shape and murmured； 〃iAccio Sword。i〃
It did not stir。 He had not expected it to。 If it had been that easy the sword would have lain on the ground for him to pick up； not in the depths of a frozen pool。 He set off around the circle of ice； thinking hard about the last time the sword had delivered itself to him。 He had been in terrible danger then； and had asked for help。
〃Help；〃 he murmured； but the sword remained upon the pool bottom； indifferent； motionless。
What was it； Harry asked himself （walking again）； that Dumbledore had told him the last time he had retrieved the sword？ iOnly a true Gryffindor could have pulled that out of the hat。i And what were the qualities that defined a Gryffindor？ A small voice inside Harry's head answered him： iTheir daring nerve and chivalry set Gryffindor apart。i
Harry stopped walking and let out a long sigh； his smoky breath dispersing rapidly upon the frozen air。 He knew what he had to do。 If he was honest with himself； he had thought it might e to this from the moment he had spotted the sword through the ice。
He glanced around at the sur