Harry looked up when Hermione joined him. She looked as though she hadn't slept either; he couldn't blame her, at all. They were getting to the end of this, though. Well, his end would be different from hers - hopefully, if he could do this, someone else would kill Voldemort and she would live. Maybe she would kill Voldemort herself, or Ron would. Maybe it would be one of the Death Eaters that had saved Ron, or maybe it would be someone in the Order. It comforted him to think of all the people who would make sure that Voldemort died, once he was gone.
"No," he said, frowning. He opened the hand that held the golden snitch, showing it to her. "I can't figure out why Dumbledore gave me this."
He knew, now, why Dumbledore had told Snape to give it to him, why Snape was someone that Dumbledore had trusted. He also trusted what Snape had said, believed that it was true. But this gift, this last puzzle - what on earth could it do for him? He gave her a tiny smile, and tried to joke, for both their sakes. "Am I meant to - I don't know, throw it in You-Know-Who's face and hope it'll distract him while someone destroys the snake?"