168[@more@]found us in Tottenham Court Road!"
"Because we used his *name*?"
"Exactly! You've got to give them credit, it makes sense. It was only people who were serious about standing up to him, like Dumbledore, who even dared
use it. Now they've put a Taboo on it, anyone who says it is trackable ---
quick-and-easy way to find Order members! They nearly got Kingsley ---"
"You're kidding?"
"Yeah, a bunch of Death Eaters cornered him, Bill said but he fought his way out. He's on the run now just like us." Ron scratched his chin
thoughtfully with
the end of his wand. "You don't reckon Kingsley could have sent that doe?"
"His Patronus is a lynx, we saw it at the wedding, remember?"
"Oh yeah..."
They moved farther along the hedge, away from the tent and Hermione.
"Harry... you don't reckon it could've been Dumbledore?"
"Dumbledore what?"
Ron looked a little embarrassed, but said in a low voice, "Dumbledore ... the doe? I mean," Ron was watching Harry out of the corners of his eyes, "he had the real sword last, didn't he?
Harry did not laugh at Ron, because he understood too well the longing
behind the question. The idea that Dumbledore had managed to come back to
them, that he was watching over them, would have inexpressibly comforting.
He shook his head.
"Dumbledore’s dead," he said. "I saw it happen, I saw the body. He's
definitely gone. Anyway his Patronus was a phoenix, not a doe"
"Patronuses can change, though can't they?" said Ron, "Tonks’s changed
didn't it?"
Yeah, but if Dumbledore was alive, why wouldn't he show himself? Why
wouldn't he just hand us the sword?
"Search me," said Ron. "Same reason he didn't give it to you while he was
alive? Same reason he left you an old Snitch and Hermione a book of kid's
stories?"
"Which is what?" asked Harry, turning to look Ron full in the face desperate for the answer.
"I dunno," said Ron. "Sometimes I've thought, when I've been a bit hacked
off, he was having a laugh or --- or he just wanted to make it more
difficult, But I don't think so, not anymore. He knew what he was doing when he gave me the Deluminator, didn't he? He -- well," Ron's ears turned bright red and he became engrossed in a tuft of grass at his feet, which he prodded with his toe, "he must've known I'd run out on you."
"No," Harry corrected him. "He must've known you'd always want to come
back."
Ron looked grateful, but still awkward. Partly to change the subject, Harry said, "Speaking of Dumbledore, have you heard what Skeeter wrote about him?" "Oh yeah," said Ron at once, "people are talking about it quite a lot.
'Course, if things were different it'd be huge news, Dumbledore being pals
with Grindelwald, but now it's just something to laugh about for people who didn't like Dumbledore, and a bit of a slap in the face for everyone who
thought he was such a good bloke. I don't know that it's such a big deal,
though. He was really young when they --"
"Our age," said Harry, just as he had retorted to Hermione, and something in his face seemed to decide Ron against pursuing the subject.
A large spider sat in the middle of a frosted web in the brambles. Harry
took aim at it with the wand Ron had given him the previous night, which
Hermione had since condescended to examine, and had decided was made of
blackthorn.
"*Engorgio*"
"The spider gave a little shiver, bouncing slightly in the web. Harry tried again. This time the spider grew slightly larger.
"Stop that," said Ron sharply, " I'm sorry I said Dumbledore was young,
okay?"
Harry had forgotten Ron's hatred of spiders.
"Sorry --- *Reducio*"
The spider did not shrink. Harry looked down at the blackthorn wand. Every
minor spell he had cast with it so far that day had seemed less powerful
than those he had produced with his phoenix wand. The new one felt
intrusively unfamiliar, like having somebody else's hand sewn to the end of his arm.
"You just need to practice," said Hermione, who had approached them
noiselessly from behind and had stood watching anxiously as Harry tried to
enlarge and reduce the spider. "It’s all a matter of confidence Harry."
He knew why she wanted it to be all right; She still felt guilty about
breaking his wand. He bit back the retort that sprung to his lips, that she could take the blackthorn wand if she thought it made no difference, and he would have hers instead. Keen for them all to be friends again, however, he agreed; but when Ron gave Hermione a tentative smile, she stalked off and
vanished behind her book once more.
All three of them returned to the tent when darkness fell, and Harry took
first watch. Sitting in the entrance, he tried to make the blackthorn wand
levitate small stones at his feet; but his magic still seemed clumsier and
less powerful than it had done before. Hermione was lying on her bunk
reading, while Ron, after many nervous glances up at her, had taken a small wooden wireless out of his rucksack and started to try to tune it.
"There's this one program," he told Harry in a low voice, "that tells the
news like it really is. All the others are on You-Know-Who's side and are
following the Ministry line, but this one ... you wait till you hear it, it's great. Only they can't do it every night, they have to keep changing
locations in case they're raided and you need a password to tune in ...
Trouble is, I missed the last one..."
He drummed lightly on the top of the radio with his wand muttering random
words under his breath. He threw Hermione many covert glances, plainly
fearing an angry outburst, but for all the notice she took of him he might
not have been there. For ten minutes or so Ron tapped and muttered, Hermione turned the pages of her book, and Harry continued to practice with the
blackthorn wand.
Finally Hermione climbed down from her bunk. Ron ceased his tapping at once. "If it's annoying you, I'll stop!" he told Hermione nervously.
Hermione did not deign to respond, but approached Harry.
"We need to talk," she said.
He looked at the book still clutched in her hand. It was * The Life and Lies