No kidding. Someone, under cover of night or another invisibility cloak or thanks to those goblins in Gringotts, sneaked into Bellatrix’s bank vault and stole the sword of Gryffindor.
What do you do with a sword of that caliber? Do you use it to help the house elves in the kitchen? Slicing bread, chopping vegetables, and cutting meat while they stare at you in awe?
Or set it on the shelf in the headmaster’s office the same shelf above the beautiful fire Phoenix you watched explode. Place it next to the snapshot of Dumbledore, smiling and winking at you and make tiresome jokes about how it belonged to Harry Potter, The Boy Who Lived.
Or do you tuck it in the bottom of the sorting hat that placed you into Gryffindor in the first place, wrapped in the scarf Fawkes brought you from Dumbledore’s office? Do you take it out when you need to defeat the basilisk or stab some horcruxes and you don’t have a venomous fang to use instead?
And do you think there in your common room, with the dementors circling around the school, and He Who Shall Not Be Named back again, that you could wield the sword and think you’re the Chosen One?
This was a poetry assignment in my English class. We each had the same format and started with the topic “somebody stole...” this was my idea.