![]() He had spilled his own blood more times than he could count he had lost all bones in his right arm once this journey had already given him scars to his chest and forearm to join those on his hand and forehead, but never, until this moment, had he felt himself to be fatally weakened, vulnerable, and naked, as though the best part of his magical power had been torn from him. ![]() Without realizing it, he was digging his fingers into his arms as if he were trying to resist physical pain. He looked out over a valley blanketed in snow, distant church bells chiming through the glittering silence. Simply to be alive to watch the sun rise over the sparkling snowy hillside ought to have been the greatest treasure on earth, yet he could not appreciate it: his senses had been spiked by the calamity of losing his wand. Harry sat down in the tent entrance and took a deep breath of clean air. The sun was coming up: The pure, colorless vastness of the sky stretched over him, indifferent to him and his suffering. ![]() ![]() Taking a wizard's wand away is like taking one of his hands away. A wand and a wizard have a special affinity. ![]()
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