“Hold on, you died.”
“Yeah, well, it didn’t stick.”
“How does something like that not stick?”
“I don’t know, it might have something to do with the Horcrux I had stuck inside my head from the time I was fifteen months old…that tends to make one immortal, at least until that Horcrux itself is destroyed; after that all bets are off.”
Hermione huffed. “I know that, Harry! At least I knew it would work that way for him… I didn’t know it would work that way for you, as well…”
“I reckoned that was part of what the prophecy meant…since I was ‘marked’ by him, and that mark turned out to be a Horcrux, that as long as it was inside me he couldn’t die, but neither could I…and to destroy him once and for all meant finding a way to destroy this piece of him, as well, hopefully without taking me with it, but if that’s what it took to do the job then so be it.”
“This is all so surreal,” Hermione muttered, rubbing her temples as she felt a headache start.
“It almost seems like a Monty Python skit, doesn’t it? ‘It’s just a flesh wound!’”
“Although you’re a bit more intelligent than the Black Knight.”
“And way more intelligent than the Knights who say ‘Ni,’” Harry added, grinning.
“At least you know you can’t cut a tree down with a herring,” Hermione agreed.
“Ron might try it, though.”
“Ron’s thick enough to think that if a person weighs the same as a duck, then they’re made of wood.”
“And is therefore…”
Ron walked around the corner just as Harry and Hermione burst out laughing.
“What’s so funny?”
They looked at Ron, then at each other, and laughed even harder.
“What? What did I say?”
Harry and Hermione looked at each other again, cried out “Ni!” in unison, then collapsed on the floor, laughing.
“Mental, the both of you!”