At the top of the hill, she messaged Hermione on the Communication Mirror.

"We're in the Forest of Dean," she said. "We've got the locket!"

She didn't hesitate. She had heard of the Forest of Dean, tucked away and secluded from London. She Apparated, her spirits high, to a forest covered in thick snow with thick branches.

The sun filing through the maze of branches above glinted against the snow, blinding her momentarily. A figure stepped from behind one of the trees.

"It's only me," said Harry Potter, putting his hands up. She had already raised her wand, but she dropped it and smiled.

"What did you find?" he asked her when they hugged.

"Bathilda Bagshot," she said, her mind light with happiness at seeing one of her best friends. She had only been gone for two days, but for her, that was too long. "In Godric's Hollow."

They began walking, stepping over sticks and fallen branches that rested atop the snow.

"No kidding," he said, "that's where were going next. Godric's Hollow, I mean."

"Your parents are buried there," she said quietly. "Are you going to want to see them?"

He nodded solemnly. He slowed, as though they were close, but she saw nothing.

"Hermione set up a ton of enchantments," he explained. All of a sudden, the barrier dropped, and she saw an enchanted tent in the middle of a good clearing. She could hear a river in the distance, but her eyes settled on Hermione, who had her wand raised because she momentarily lifted it so they could enter.

She quickly put it back up and they were hidden from onlookers.

"How was it?" she yelled excitedly, and hugged her tightly. "Did you find anything out?"

Diana explained what about Ambrosius and what he had said once Ron came out of the tent. As she told them, she noticed Ron's bitter expression and he stared at the forest floor. The locket swayed around his neck, and she was momentarily entranced until Hermione began to speak.

"Look, we found this on Unbridge's door," she said lightly. From her own Enchanted bag, she pulled a small pouch from inside and opened the drawstring. A small white ball fell into her palm, and Diana's throat tightened.

She took it from Hermione and held it gently. It whizzed even in her hand, but finally the blue iris settled on Diana's face.

"They had Alastor's eye?" she breathed. She watched as it twitched left and right with paranoia, scanning for danger around them.

Ron, Hermione, and Harry went on to tell her about what had happened at the Ministry. Each jumped in periodically, starting with Hermione explaining their disguises.

"My wife was hysterical," said Ron, who seemed to have slightly forgotten whatever bitterness he was feeling before. "I just hope she got out of there."

Harry explained how he had broken into Umbridge's office and found the Eye. He explained with a laugh how he had used The Weasley's Wizard Wheezes' devices to cause a distraction.

"Who knew Fred and George could have ever been useful?" he said with a laugh.

Hermione told her about the court room and how their true identities were revealed, and they managed to secure the locket, fight off an entire legion of Dementors, and successfully aid an entire hoard of terrified Muggle-borns.

"That sounds so much more eventful than my trip," said Diana with a small laugh.

"Oh, come on," said Hermione. "Nothing happened?"

Diana shrugged. "I've got my next clue, I met Ambrosius," she listed, "but I didn't even nearly have anything as exciting as fighting off a hundred Dementors in the Ministry of Magic."

"Do you want to hold it?" said Hermione after a moment. "The locket, I mean."

Diana peered at it around Ron's neck. It looked just as it did in the memories, and it looked identical to the fake one. She thought of Regulus, and how he had died trying to destroy it. She thought of her father, and how a living piece of his soul was bundled inside of it. 

She wanted to touch it. She wanted to trace the emerald S with her finger. But she knew she shouldn't.

"No," she said finally, forcing the word out of her mouth. "No, that's okay. I don't want to risk anything."

They nodded in understanding.

Later that night, they all ate the fish that Harry had caught from the nearby river. Hermione offered seconds.

"Don't bother," grumbled Ron. "No one wants seconds of this, it's disgusting---"

Diana spoke through a mouthful of fish. "Don't be a prat, Ron."

"Harry caught the fish and I did my best with it!" snapped Hermione. This hadn't been the first rude comment from Ron. "I notice I'm the one who always ends up sorting out the food; because I'm a girl, I suppose!"

"No, it's because you're supposed to be the best at magic!" shot back Ron.

Hermione jumped up, and the remnants of her fish skittered off of her plate and onto the ground.

"You can do the cooking tomorrow, Ron, you can find the ingredients and try and charm them into something worth eating, and I'll sit here and pull faces and moan and you can see how you---"

"Shut up!" Diana said abruptly. Hermione faltered, began to ask what was going on.

"Shut up," she said again. She slowly got to her feet, stepping closer to the flap of the tent. "I hear something."

They all listened hard, and surely, she was right: over the roaring and gushing of the river, they heard muffled voices coming nearer and nearer.

"You cast the Muffliato charm over us, right?" whispered Harry.

"I did everything," Hermione whispered back. Diana stood frozen, her eyes closed and her ear toward the opening so she could hear better. "They shouldn't be able to see us or hear us."

Scuffling and scraping signaled to Diana that the strangers were descending down the hill to the narrow embankment where they had pitched their tent. By the sounds, it seemed it was a small group: multiple male voices floated to their ears and many sets of footsteps sounded through the silent forest. Though they could not yet see who it was, they drew their wands and readied themselves, silent.

From Hermione's bag, she seized five flesh-colored Extendable Ears and gave one to each of them. Feeding the string into their ears and sliding the device out of the tent, they began to listen. In seconds, they heard a weary, male voice.

"There ought to be a few salmon in here, or d'you reckon it's too early in the season? Accio Salmon!"

There were several splashes and then the sound of slapping against flesh. Someone grunted appreciatively.

They heard speaking, though not in English: it was all grunting and rattling and clipped tongue, low and growlish like an animal.

On the other side of the canvas, a fire danced to life, its fuzzy shadow flickering.

"Here, Griphook, Gornuk."

Goblins! Hermione mouthed to them.

"Thank you," said the goblins together in English.

"So, you three have been on the run, how long?" asked a new, mellow, and pleasant voice. It was vaguely familiar, but she didn't know how. The sound of cutlery against plates began to fill the air.

"Six weeks. . . seven. . . I forget," said the tired man. "Met up with Griphook in the first couple of days and joined forces with Gornuk not long after. Nice to have a bit of company." There was a pause while knives scraped plates and tin mugs clinked as they were picked up and set down. "What made you leave, Ted?"

Ted. Diana made eye-contact with Harry.

"Knew they were coming," replied the mellow-voiced Ted. Tonks' father. "Heard Death Eaters were in the area last week and decided I'd better run for it. Refused to register as a Muggle-born on principle, see, so I knew it was a matter of time, knew I'd have to leave the place in the end. My wife should be okay, she's a pure-blood. And then I met Dean here, what, a few days ago, son?"

"Yeah," said another voice, and they all gave a jolt. Dean Thomas.

"Muggle-born, eh?" asked the first man.

"Not sure," said Dean. "My dad left my mum when I was a kid. I've got no proof he's a wizard, though."

There was a silence for awhile as they ate; then Ted spoke again.

"I've got to say, Dirk, I'm surprised to run into you. Pleased, but surprised. Word was you'd been caught."

"I was," said Dirk ."I was halfway to Azkaban when I made a break for it. Stunned Dawlish and nicked his broom. It was easier than you'd think; I don't reckon he's quite right at the moment. Might be Confunded. If so, I'd like to shake the hand of the witch or wizard who did it, probably saved my life."

There was another silence, and the fire crackled.

Then Ted said, "So, where do you two fit in? I, er, had the impression the goblins were for You-Know-Who, on the whole."

"You had a false impression," said the higher-voiced goblin. "We take no sides. This is a wizards' war."

"How come you're in hiding, then?"

"I deemed it prudent," said the deeper-voiced goblin. "Having refused what I considered an impertinent request, I could see that my personal safety was in jeopardy."

"What did they ask you to do?" asked Ted.

"Duties ill-befitting the dignity of my race," replied the goblin. "I am not a house-elf."

"What about you, Griphook?"

"Similar reasons," said the high-pitched goblin. "Gringotts is no longer under the sole control of my race. I recognize no wizarding master."

He added something under his breath in Gobbledegook and Gornuk laughed.

"What's the joke?" asked Dean.

"He said," said Dirk, "that there are things wizards don't recognize, either."

"I don't get it," said Dean after a short pause.

"I had my small revenge before I left," said Griphook.

"Didn't manage to lock a Death Eater in one of those vaults, I suppose?" mused Ted.

"If I had, the sword would not have helped him break out," said Griphook cryptically. Gornuk laughed and even Dirk chuckled.

"Dean and I are still missing something here," said Ted.

"So is Severus Snape, though he does not know it," said Griphook, and the two goblins roared with laughter. Diana's stomach jolted. The all listened as hard as they could with unbearable excitement.

"Didn't you hear about that, Ted?" asked Dirk. "About the kids who tried to steal Gryffindor's sword out of Snape's office at Hogwart's.

Diana's heart dropped, her breath caught in her throat.

"Never heard a word," said Ted. "Wasn't in the Prophet, was it?"

"Hardly," chortled Dirk. "Griphook here told me, he heard about it from Bill Weasley who works at the bank. One of the kids who tried to take the sword was his younger sister."

Diana clutched the string of the Ear as if it was a lifeline. Her heart thundered in her chest, fear for the fate of Ginny after pulling something so dangerous.

"She and a couple of friends got into Snape's office and smashed open the glass case where he was apparently keeping the sword. Snape caught them as they were trying to smuggle it down the staircase."

"Ah, God bless 'em," said Ted. "What did they think, that they'd be able to use the sword on You-Know-Who? Or Snape himself?"

"Well, whatever they thought they were doing, Snape decided the sword wasn't safe where it was," said Dirk. "A couple of days later, once he'd got the say from You-Know-Who, I imagine, he sent it down to London to be kept in Gringotts instead.

The goblins started to laugh again.

"I'm still not seeing the joke," said Ted.

"It's a fake," rasped Griphook.

"The Sword of Gryffindor?"

"Oh, yes. It is a copy---an excellent copy, it is true---but it was wizard-made. The original was forged centuries ago by goblins and had certain properties only goblin-made armor possesses. Wherever the genuine sword of Gryffindor is, it is not in the vault at Gringotts bank."

"I see," said Ted. "And you didn't bother telling the Death Eaters this?"

"I saw no reason to trouble them with the information," said Griphook coyly, and now all of them laughed.

Diana closed her eyes, her stomach knotted painfully. She worried for Ginny and whoever helped her steal the sword, but her nerves bubbled with excitement about the news of the fake sword.

"What happened to Ginny and the others? The ones who tried to steal it?"

"Oh, they were punished, and cruelly," said Griphook indifferently.

Diana felt her eyed growing hot with angry and terrified tears, but she kept them from falling.

"They're okay, though?" asked Ted quickly. "I mean, the Weasleys don't need any more of their kids injured, do they?"

"They suffered no serious injury, as far as I am aware."

"Lucky for them," said Ted. "With Snape's track record, I suppose we should just be glad they're still alive."

"You believe that story, then, do you, Ted?" asked Dirk. "You believe Snape killed Dumbledore?"

Diana's breath caught, though she leaned forward to listen better.

"'Course I do," said Ted. "You're not going to sit there and tell me you think Potter and the Beauregard girl had anything to do with it?"

"Hard to know what to believe these days," Dirk muttered.

"I know Harry Potter and Diana Beauregard," said Dean, "and I reckon he's the real thing---the Chosen One, or whatever you want to call it. Diana's not in the papers much, and no one really knows much about her, but she's one of the best witches I've ever seen---and she's only just seventeen."

"Yeah, there's a lot who'd like to believe he's that, son," said Dirk. "But where are they? Run for it, by the looks of things. You'd think, if they knew anything we don't, they'd be out there now fighting, rallying resistance, instead of hiding. And you know, the Prophet made a pretty good case against them---"

"The Prophet?" scoffed Ted. "You deserve to be lied to if you're still reading that muck, Dirk. All it is is propaganda to turn idiots who believe it against Harry Potter. If you want the facts, try the Quibbler."

There was an explosion of choking and wretching, then the sound of someone thumping someone on the back. At last, Dirk spluttered, "The Quibbler? That lunatic rag of Xeno Lovegood's?"

"It's not so lunatic these days," said Ted. "You want to give it a look. Xeno is printing all the stuff the Prophet's ignoring, not a single mention of Crumple-Horned Snorkacks in the last issue. How long they'll let him get away with it, mind, I don't know. But Xeno says, front page of every issue, that any wizard who's against You-Know-Who ought to make helping Harry Potter their number one priority."

"Hard to help a boy who'd vanished off the face of the earth," said Dirk. "And the girl, Diana---if Harry Potter's not trustworthy, she's worse; you should hear some of the rumors about her."

"The fact that Harry Potter hasn't been caught is an achievement," said Ted. "I mean, just the fact that he has Diana Beauregard on his side is something to cheer for."

"What do you mean?" said Dirk.

"I mean Diana isn't someone you want to mess with," said Ted cryptically. "She's different."

"I'll say," agreed Dean. "I've never seen anyone better at magic except Dumbledore, and even he isn't that much better than she is."

"Who's to say they haven't already been caught and killed, mind you?" said Dirk. "If the Prophet is truly what you say it is, I wouldn't be surprised."

"Ah, don't say that, Dirk,"  muttered Ted. "I believe in them. A lot of people do."

The rest of their conversation was a debate on where to sleep, and they finally settled on retreating up the hill and into the thicker area of trees. Diana listened to their retreating voices all the way until all they could hear was a soft murmur being carried by the trees.

Diana isn't someone you want to mess with.

You should hear some of the rumors about her.

Those words only made her want to work harder.

I am not someone you want to mess with.

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