Harry had not expected Hermione's anger to abate over night and was therefore unsurprised that she communicated mainly by dirty looks and pointed silences the next morning. Ron responded by maintaining an unnaturally somber demeanor in her presence as an outward sign of continuing remorse. In fact, when all three of them were together Harry felt like the only non-mourner at a poorly attended funeral. During those few moments he spent alone with Harry, however (collecting water and searching the undergrowth for mushrooms). Ron became shamelessly cheery.







"Someone helped us," he kept saying, "Someone sent that doe, Someone's on our side, One Horcrux down, mate!"







Bolstered by the destruction of the locket they set to debating the possible locations of the other Horcruxes and even though they had discussed the matter so often before. Harry felt optimistic, certain that more breakthroughs would succeed the first. Hermione's sulkiness could not mar his buoyant spirits; The sudden upswing in their fortunes, the appearance of the mysterious due, the recovery of Gryffindor's sword, and above all, Ron's return made Harry so happy that it was quite difficult to maintain a straight face.







Late in the afternoon he and Ron escaped Hermione's baleful presence again and under the pretense of scouring the bare hedges for nonexistent blackberries, they continued their ongoing exchange of news. Harry had finally managed to tell Ron the whole story of his and Hermione's various wanderings, right up to the full story of what had happened at Godric's Hollow; Ron was now filling Harry in on everything he had discovered about the wider Wizarding world during his weeks away.







"... and how did you find out about the Taboo?" he asked Harry after explaining the many desperate attempts of Muggle-borns to evade the Ministry."







"The what?"







"You and Hermione have stopped saying You-Know-Who's name!"







"Oh, yeah, Well, it's just a bad habit we've slipped into," said Harry. "But I haven't got a problem calling him V ---"







"NO!" roared Ron, causing Harry to jump into the hedge and Hermione (nose buried in a book at the tent entrance) to scowl over at them. "Sorry," said Ron, wrenching Harry back out of the brambles, "but the name's been jinxed, Harry, that's how they track people! Using his name breaks protective enchantments, it causes some kind of magicaldisturbance --- it's how they 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 of Albus Dumbledore.*







"What?" he said apprehensively. It flew through his mind that there was a Chapter on him in there; he was not sure he felt up to hearing Rita's version of his relationship with Dumbledore. Hermione's answer however, was completely unexpected.







"I want to go and see Xenophilius Lovegood."







He stared at her.







"Sorry?"







"Xenophilius Lovegood, Luna's father. I want to go and talk to him!"







"er ? why?"







　　　She took a deep breath, as though bracing herself, and said, "It's that mark, the mark in Beedle the Bard. Look at this!"







　　　She thrust The life and Lies of Albus Dumbledore under Harry's unwilling eyes and saw a photograph of the original letter that Dumbledore had written Grindelwald, with Dumbledore's familiar thin, slanting handwriting. He hated seeing absolute proof that Dumbledore really had written those words, that they had not been Rita's invention.







"The signature," said Hermione. "Look at the signature, Harry!"







　　　He obeyed. For a moment he had no idea what she was talking about, but, looking more closely with the aid of his lit wand, he saw that Dumbledore had replaced the A of Albus with a tiny version of the same triangular mark inscribed upon The Tales of Beedle the Bard.







　　　"Er ? what are you -- ?" said Ron tentatively, but Hermione quelled him with a look and turned back to Harry.







　　　"It keeps cropping up, doesn't it?" she said. "I know Viktor said it was Grindelwald's mark, but it was definitely on that old grave in Godric's Hollow, and the







dates on the headstone were long before Grindelwald came along! And now this! Well, we can't ask Dumbledore or Grindelwald what it means ? I don't even know whether Grindelwald's still alive ? but we can ask Mr. Lovegood. He was wearing the symbol at the wedding. I'm sure this is important, Harry!"







　　　Harry did not answer immediately. He looked into her intense, eager face and then out into the surrounding darkness, thinking. After a long pause he said, "Hermione, we don't need another Godric's Hollow. We talked ourselves into going there, and ?"







"But it keeps appearing, Harry! Dumbledore left me The Tales of Beedle the Bard, how do you know we're not supposed to find out about the sign?"







　　　"Here we go again!" Harry felt slightly exasperated. "We keep trying to convince ourselves Dumbledore left us secret signs and clues ?"







　　　"The Deluminator turned out to be pretty useful," piped up Ron. "I think Hermione's right, I think we ought to go and see Lovegood."







　　　Harry threw him a dark look. He was quite sure that Ron's support of Hermione had little to do with a desire to know the meaning of the triangular rune.







　　　"It won't be like Godric's Hollow," Ron added, "Lovegood's on your side, Harry, The Quibbler's been for you all along, it keeps telling everyone they've got to help you!"







"I'm sure this is important!" said Hermione earnestly.







　　　"But don't you think if it was, Dumbledore would have told me about it before he died?"







　　　"Maybe . . . maybe it's something you need to find out for yourself," said Hermione with a faint air of clutching at straws.







"Yeah," said Ron sycophantically, "that makes sense."







　　　"No, it doesn't," snapped Hermione, "but I still think we ought to talk to Mr. Lovegood. A symbol that links Dumbledore, Grindelwald, and Godric's Hollow? Harry, I'm sure we ought to know about this!"







　　　"I think we should vote on it," said Ron. "Those in favor of going to see Love good ?"







　　　His hand flew into the air before Hermione's. Her lips quivered suspiciously as she raised her own.







"Outvoted, Harry, sorry," said Ron, clapping him on the back.







　　　"Fine," said Harry, half amused, half irritated. "Only, once we've seen Lovegood, let's try and look for some more Horcruxes, shall we? Where do the Lovegood's live, anyway? Do either of you know?







　　　"Yeah, they're not far from my place," said Ron. "I dunno exactly where, but Mum and Dad always point toward the hills whenever they mention them. Shouldn't be hard to find."







When Hermione had returned to her bunk, Harry lowered his voice.







"You only agreed to try and get back in her good books."







　　　"All's fair in love and war," said Ron brightly, "and this is a bit of both. Cheer up, it's the Christmas holidays, Luna'll be Home!"







　　　They had an excellent view of the village of Ottery St. Catchopole from the breezy hillside to which they Disapparated next morning. From their high vantage point the village looked like a collection of toy houses in the great slanting shafts of sunlight stretching to earth in the breaks between clouds. They stood for a minute or two looking toward the Burrow, their hands shadowing their eyes, but all they could make out were







the high hedges and trees of the orchard, which afforded the crooked little house protection from Muggle eyes.







"It's weird, being this near, but not going to visit," said Ron.







　　　"Well, it's not like you haven't just seen them. You were there for Christmas," said Hermione coldly.







　　　"I wasn't at the Burrow!" said Ron with an incredulous laugh. "Do you think I was going to go back there and tell them all I'd walked out on you? Yeah, Fred and George would've been great about it. And Ginny, she'd have been really understanding."







"But where have you been, then?" asked Hermione, surprised.