I'm sorry,

Ron did not respond, but turned his face away from Harry and wiped his nose noisily on
his sleeve. Harry got to his feet again and walked to where Ron's enormous rucksack lay
yards away, discarded as Ron had run toward the pool to save Harry from drowning. He
hoisted it onto his own back and walked back to Ron, who clambered to his feet as Harry
approached, eyes bloodshot but otherwise composed.

"I'm sorry," he said in a thick voice. "I'm sorry I left. I know I was a -- a --"

He looked around at the darkness, as if hoping a bad enough word would swoop down
upon him and claim him.

"You've sort of made up for it tonight," said Harry. "Getting the sword. Finishing off the
Horcrux. Saving my life."

"That makes me sound a lot cooler than I was," Ron mumbled.

"Stuff like that always sounds cooler than it really was" said Harry. "I've been trying to
tell you that for years."

Simultaneously they walked forward and hugged, Harry gripping the still-sopping back
of Ron's jacket.

"And now," said Harry as they broke apart, "all we've got to do is find that tent again."

But it was not difficult. Though the walk through the dark forest with the doe had seemed
lengthy, with Ron by his side, the journey back seemed to take a surprisingly short time.
Harry could not wait to wake Hermione, and it was with quickening excitement that he
entered the tent, Ron lagging a little behind him.

It was gloriously warm after the pool and the forest, the only illumination the bluebell
flames still shimmering in a bowl on the floor. Hermione was fast asleep, curled up under
her blankets, and did not move until Harry had said her name several times.