The locket was heavy in Harry's hand; the warm summer breeze brushed past his face, but he shivered, unable to shake the cold feeling that'd settled around him. Hermione'd once made Harry read a book in his sixth year about a character named Frodo and how he had to destroy an evil ring, how it weighed at his spirit until he hardly recognized the people he'd loved. Harry wondered if that would happen to him.
Footsteps sounded behind him, and Harry knew without turning that it was Ron.
"Are you ready?" he stifled a yawn, and Harry's hand tightened around the locket, his thumb unconsciously tracing over the S etched on the front.