𝗖𝗢𝗥𝗡𝗘𝗟𝗜𝗔 𝗦𝗧𝗥𝗘𝗘𝗧

ACT TWO, CHAPTER TEN
xenophilius lovegood.

HERMIONE'S ANGER HAD, unsurprisingly, hadn't faded overnight. She kept giving Ron dirty looks and pointed silences the next morning. Ron responded by maintaining an unnaturally somber demeanor in her presence to show that he was sorry. In fact, when all four of them were together, Venus couldn't help but feel that her and Harry were the only cheerful ones.

Since the locket had been destroyed, they set to debating the possible locations of the other Horcruxes. Venus started to feel optimistic again, even through Hermione's menacing presence. Honestly, at this point, she was kind of the only one Hermione softened up to her. It thankfully stopped a lot of arguments.

Harry and Ron would go out to look for food together, leaving Venus and Hermione in the tent. Apparently, Voldemort's name had a Taboo now — the name was jinxed, and whoever said it would be tracked because it would break protective enchantments and cause magical disturbance. That's how the Death Eaters found them in Tottenham Court Road back when this whole journey started. Harry was also having trouble using the new wand that Ron had stolen, but that was understandable.

All four of them returned to the tent when darkness fell, and Venus and Harry took first watch. Venus was twirling her own wand around in her fingers while Harry tried to make the new wand levitate small stones at his feet. However, his magic seemed clumsier and less powerful than before. Hermione was lying on her bunk reading while Ron, after many nervous glances at her, had taken a small wooden wireless radio out of his backpack and started to try and tune it.

"There's this one program that tells the news like it really is," Ron explained in a low voice. "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 top of the radio with his wand, muttering random words under his breath. He threw Hermione many nervous glances, fearing an angry outburst. For about ten minutes Ron tapped and muttered, Hermione turned the pages of her book, and Harry continued to practice with the wand while Venus told him words of encouragement. Finally, Hermione climbed down from her bunk.

Ron stopped the tapping at once. "If it's annoying you, I'll stop!"

Hermione approached Harry and Venus. "We need to talk."

Harry took notice to the book in her hand — The Life and Lies of Albus Dumbledore. "What?"

"I want to go and see Xenophilius Lovegood."

Venus blinked. "Huh?"

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

"May I ask why?"

Hermione took a deep breath. "It's that mark, the mark in Beedle the Bard. Look at this!" She thrust the book under their eyes. It was the photograph of the original letter than Dumbledore had written Grindelwald. "The signature. Look at the signature, you two!"

Venus moved her eyes down. Sure enough, Dumbledore had replaced the A of Albus with a tiny version of the same triangular mark that was on The Tales of Beedle the Bard.

"Er — what are you—?" Ron began.

Hermione silenced him with a look before turning back to the couple. "It keeps cropping up, doesn't it? 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 and Venus!"

Venus and Harry shared a quick glance for a moment. She reached up, dragging the Venus charm on the necklace Dumbledore had given her. It's written in the stars — she really did not know what that meant.

"Hermione, we don't need another Godric's Hollow," Harry insisted. "We talked ourselves into going there, and—"

"But it keeps appearing, Harry!" Hermione exclaimed. "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! We keep trying to convince ourselves Dumbledore left us secret signs and clues—"

"The Deluminator turned out to be pretty useful," Ron cut in. "I think Hermione's right, I think we ought to go and see Lovegood." Harry threw him a dark look. "It won't be like Godric's Hollow, 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!" Hermione insisted.

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

"Maybe . . . maybe it's something you need to find out for yourself."

"Yeah, that makes sense," Ron agreed.

"No, it doesn't, but I still think we oughtto talk to Mr. Lovegood," Hermione snapped. "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," Ron suggested. "Those in favor of going to see Lovegood—"

His hand raised into the air before Hermione's. Hermione stared at him suspiciously before raising her hand. Venus then slowly raised hers.

Harry's head whipped over to her. "Darling!"

"Sorry, love," Venus replied. "I think she's right."

Ron clapped Harry on the back. "Outvoted, Harry, sorry."

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

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

Harry lowered his voice when Hermione returned to her bunk. "You only agreed to try and get back in her good books."

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

They had a pretty view of the village of Ottery St. Catchpole from the breezy hillside to which they Disapparated the next morning. Since thy were so high up, the village looked like a collection of toy houses in the sunlight beaming down on Earth in the breaks between the clouds. They stood for a minute or two looking towards the Burrow, their hands shadowing their eyes, but all they could make out were the high hedges and trees of the orchard, which gave the little house protection from Muggle eyes.

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

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

"I wasn't at the Burrow! 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?"

"Bill and Fleur's new place," Ron answered "Shell Cottage. Bill's always been decent to me. He — he wasn't impressed when he heard what I'd done, but he didn't go on about it. He knew I was really sorry. None of the rest of the family know I was there. Bill told Mum he and Fleur weren't going home for Christmas because they wanted to spend it alone. You know, first holiday after they were married. I don't think Fleur minded. You know how much she hates Celestina Warbeck." Ron turned his back on the Burrow. "Let's try up here."

He led the way over the top of the hill. They walked for a few hours with Harry, at Hermione's insistence, hidden underneath the Invisibility Cloak. The clister of low hills appeared to be uninhabited apart from one small cottage, which seemed deserted.

"Do you think it's theirs, and they've gone away for Christmas?" Hermione questioned, peering through the window at a neat little kitchen.

Ron snorted in amusement. "Listen, I've got a feeling you'd be able to tell who lived there if you looked through the Lovegoods' window. Let's try the next lot of hills."

So they Disapparated a few miles farther north.

"Aha!" Ron shouted as the wind whipped their hair and clothes.

He was pointing upward, towards the top of the hill on which they had appeared, where a very strange-looking house rose vertically against the sky, a great black cylinder with a ghostly moon hanging behind it in the afternoon sky.

"That's got to be Luna's house, who else would live in a place like that? It looks like a giant rook!"

Hermione frowned at the tower. "It's nothing like a bird."

"I was talking about a chess rook," Ron revealed. "A castle to you."

Since Ron's legs were the longest, he reached the top of the hill first. Venus, Harry, and Hermione eventually caught up with him, slightly panting and clutching cramps in their sides. However, Ron was grinning broadly.

"It's theirs," Ron told them. "Look."

There were three hand-painted signs that were tacked to a broken-down gate.

THE QUIBBLER. EDITOR: X. LOVEGOOD

PICK YOUR OWN MISTLETOE

KEEP OFF THE DIRIGIBLE PLUMS

The gate creaked as they opened it. There was a zigzagging path leading to the front door that was overgrown with a variety of odd plants, including a bush covered in the orange radishlike fruit Luna sometimes wore as earrings. There was a Snargaluff, so they rounded around it widely. Two aged crab apple trees, bent with the wind, stripped of leaves but still heavy with berry-sized red fruits and bush crowns of white-beaded mistletoe, stood on either side of the front door. A little owl with a slightly flattened, hawklike head peered down at them from one of the branches.

"You'd better take off the Invisibility Cloak, Harry," Hermione voiced. "It's you Mr. Lovegood wants to help, not us."

Harry took off the Cloak, handing the silvery fabric to stow in her beaded bag. Venus reached up and knocked three times on the thick black door, which was studded with iron nails and had a knocker shaped like an eagle, most likely to represent Ravenclaw.

Barely ten seconds passed, then the door was flung open, revealing Xenophilius Lovegood. He was barefoot and wearing what appeared to be a stained nightshirt. His long white hair was dirty and unkept.

"What?" Xenophilius cried in a high-pitched voice. "What is it? Who are you? What do you want?"

He looked from Venus, to Hermione, to Ron, and finally, at Harry. His mouth fell open in a perfect, comical O.

"Hello, Mr. Lovegood," Harry greeted, holding out his hand. "I'm Harry, Harry Potter."

Xenophilius didn't take Harry's hand, although the eye that was not pointing inward at his nose slid straight to the lightning bolt scar on Harry's forehead.

"Would it be okay if we came in? There's something we'd like to ask you."

"I . . . I'm not sure that's advisable," Xenophilius whispered. He swallowed nervously and cast a quick look around the garden. "Rather a shock . . . my word . . . I . . . I'm afraid I don't really think I ought to—"

"It won't take long," Harry protested.

"I — oh, all right then. Come in, quickly. Quickly!"

They were barely over the threshold when Xenophilius slammed the door shut behind them. Venus glanced around. They were standing in the most peculiar kitchen she had ever seen. The room was perfectly circular and everything was curved to fit the walls — the stove, the sink, and the cupboards. All of it been painted with flowers, insects, and birds in bright primary colors. Venus got a pang in her heart. Luna.

In the middle of the floor, there was a wrought-iron spiral staircase that led to the upper levels. There was a great deal of clattering and banging coming from overhead. Venus wondered what Luna was doing up there.

"You'd better come up," Xenophilius suggested.

He still looked extremely uncomfortable, but he led the way nevertheless. The room above seemed to be a combination of living room and workplace and was even more cluttered than the kitchen. There were piled upon piles of books and papers on every surface. Delicately made models of creatures Venud didn't recognize, all flapping wings or snapping jaws, hung from the ceiling.

Luna wasn't there. The thing that was making such a racket was a wooden object covered in magically turning cogs and wheels. It looked like a weird combination of a workbench and a set of old shelves. Venus then realized it was an old-fashioned printing press since it eas churning out Quibblers.

"Excuse me," Xenophilius said.

He strode over to the machine, seized a grubby tablecloth from beneath an immense number of books and papers, which all tumbled onto the floor. Xenophilius threw it over the press, somewhat muffling the loud bangs and clatters. He then faced Harry.

"Why have you come here?"

Hermione let out a small cry of shock. "Mr. Lovegood — what's that?"

She was pointing to an enormous, gray spiral horn. It kind of looked like one a unicorn would have. The horn was mounted on the wall, sticking out several feet into the room.

"It is the horn of a Crumple-Horned Snorkack," Xenophilius responded.

"No it isn't!" Hermione exclaimed.

"Hermione, now's not the moment—" Harry muttered.

"But Harry, it's an Erumpent horn! It's a Class B Tradeable Material and it's an extraordinarily dangerous thing to have in a house!"

"How d'you know it's an Erumpent horn?" Ron asked, backing away from the horn was fast as he could.

"There's a description in Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them!" Hermione revealed. "Mr. Lovegood, you need to get rid of it straightaway, don't you know it can explode at the slightest touch?"

"The Crumple-Horned Snorkack is a shy and highly magical creature, and its horn—" Xenophilius started to explain.

"Mr. Lovegood, I recognize the grooved markings around the base, that's an Erumpent horn and it's incredibly dangerous — I don't know where you got it—"

"I bought it, two weeks ago, from a delightful young wizard who knew of my interest in the exquisite Snorkack. A Christmas surprise for my Luna. Now, why exactly have you come here, Mr. Potter?"

"We need some help," Harry admitted.

"Ah," Xenophilius let out. "Help. Hmm." His good eye moved to Harry's scar, and Venus stepped closer to her boyfriend on instinct. "Yes. The thing is . . . helping Harry Potter . . . rather dangerous . . ."

"Aren't you the one who keeps telling everyone it's their first dutyto help Harry?" Ron argued. "In that magazine of yours?"

Xenophilius glanced behind him at the concealed printing press, still banging and clattering beneath the tablecloth. "Er — yes, I have expressed that view. However—"

"That's for everyone else to do, not you personally?"

Xenophilius did not answer. He kept swallowing nervously, his eyes darting between the four of them. Venus could tell there was some sort of powerful internal struggle going on.

"Is Luna around?" Venus interjected. "I would love to hear her opinion."

Xenophilius gulped before speaking in a shaky voice. "Luna is down at the stream, fishing for Freshwater Plimpies. She . . . she will like to see you. I'll go and call her and then — yes, very well. I shall try to help you."

He disappeared down the spiral staircase and they heard the front door open and close. They all looked at each other.

"Cowardly old wart," Ron said. "Luna's got ten times his guts."

"He's probably worried about what'll happen to them if the Death Eaters find out I was here," Harry replied.

"Well, I agree with Ron," Hermione stated. "Awful old hypocrite, telling everyone else to help you and trying to worm out of it himself. And for heaven's sake keep away from that horn."

Venus sighed. She looped her arm through Harry's, glancing around the room nervously. For some reason, she had a bad feeling about this. Harry noticed and leaned down, pressing a kiss of reassurance to her forehead.

Together, the two of them crossed to the window on the far side of the room. There was a stream, a thin, glittering ribbon lying far below them at the base of the hill. They were very high up — a bird fluttered past the window. Venus felt a longing in her heart as she looked in the direction of the Burrow. They were close, so close. But they couldn't put them in danger. Not more than they already were.

Venus looked away from the window, but Harry nudged her, nodding his head to another peculiar object standing upon the cluttered, curved sideboard. It was a stone bust of a beautiful but harsh-looking witch wearing a bizarre-looking headdress. Two objects that resembled golden ear trumpets curved out from the sides. A tiny pair of glittering blue wings was stuck to a leather strap that ran over the top of her head, while one of the orange radishes had been stuck to a second strap around her forehead.

"Look at this," Harry announced.

"Fetching," Ron commented. "Surprised he didn't wear that to the wedding."

They heard the front door close. A moment later, Xenophilius climbed back up the spiral staircase into the room, his legs now encased in Wellington boots and holding a tray of ill-assorted teacups and a steaming teapot.

"Ah, you have spotted my pet invention," he began, shoving the tray into Hermione's arms and joining Harry and Venus at the statue's side. "Modeled, fittingly enough, upon the head of the beautiful Rowena Ravenclaw. Wit beyond measure is man's greatest treasure!" He pointed to the objects like ear trumpets. "These are the Wrackspurt siphons — to remove all sources ofdistraction from the thinker's immediate area. Here—" he pointed to the tiny wings "—a Billywig propeller, to induce an elevated frame of mind. Finally—" he pointed to the orange radish. "—the Dirigible Plum, so as to enhance the ability to accept the extraordinary."

Xenophilius strode back to the tea tray, which Hermione had managed to balance on one of the cluttered side tables.

"May I offer you all an infusion of Gurdyroots? We make it ourselves." He started to pour out the drink, which was a deep purple color. "Luna is down beyond Bottom Bridge, she is most excited that you are here. She ought not to be too long, she has caught nearly enough Plimpies to make soup for all of us. Do sit down and help yourselves to sugar." He removed a tottering pile of papers from an armchair and sat down. "Now, how may I help you, Mr. Potter?"

Harry glanced at Venus, who nodded at him encouragingly. "Well, it's about that symbol you were wearing around your neck at Bill and Fleur's wedding, Mr. Lovegood. We wondered what it meant."

Xenophilius raised his eyebrows. "Are you referring to the sign of the Deathly Hallows?"

Venus' eyebrows knit in thought. The Deathly Hallows? She had never heard of that before.

"The Deathly Hallows?" Harry repeated.

"You haven't heard of them?" Xenophilius continued. "I'm not surprised. Very, very few wizards believe. Witness that knuckle-headed young man at your brother's wedding—" he nodded to Ron "—who attacked me for sporting the symbol of a well-known Dark wizard! Such ignorance. There is nothing Dark about the Hallows — at least, not in that crude sense. One simply uses the symbol to reveal oneself to other believers, in the hope that they might helpone with the Quest."

He stirred several lumps of sugar into his Gurdyroot infusion and drank some.

"I'm sorry," Harry said. "I still don't really understand."

He took a sip of his cup as well. However, Venus could tell that Harry did not like it.

"Well, you see, believers seek the Deathly Hallows," Xenophilius explained.

"But what are the Deathly Hallows?" Hermione inquired.

Xenophilius set aside his empty teacup. "I assume that you are all familiar with The Tale of the Three Brothers?"

"No," Harry answered.

"Yes," Venus, Ron, and Hermione chorused.

Xenophilius nodded gravely. "Well, well, Mr. Potter, the whole thing starts with The Tale of the Three Brothers . . . I have a copy somewhere . . ."

"I've got a copy, Mr. Lovegood, I've got it right here," Hermione voiced, pulling out The Tales of Beedle the Bard from the small, beaded bag.

"The original?" Hermione nodded. "Well then, why don't you read it aloud? Much the bestway to make sure we all understand."

"Er . . . all right." She opened up the book and let out a small cough before beginning to read. "There were once three brothers who were traveling along a lonely, winding road at twilight—"

"Midnight, our mum always told us," Ron interrupted. Hermione shot him a look of annoyance. "Sorry, I just think it's a bit spookier if it's midnight!"

"Yeah, because we really need a bit more fear in our lives," Harry stated sarcastically, making Venus slightly smile. "Go on, Hermione."

"In time, the brothers reached a river too deep to wade through and too dangerous to swim across. However, these brothers were learned int he magical arts, and so they simply waved their wands and made a bridge appear across the treacherous water. They were halfway across it when they found their path blocked by a hooded figure.

"And Death spoke to them—"

"Sorry, but Death spoke to them?"

"It's a fairy tale, love," Venus whispered.

Harry nodded. "Right, sorry. Go on."

"And Death spoke to them. He was angry that he had been cheated out of three new victims, for travelers usually drowned in the river. But Death was cunning. He pretended to congratulate the three brothers upon their magic, and said that each had earned a prize for having been clever enough to evade him.

"So the oldest brother, who was a combative man, asked for a wand more powerful than any in existence: a wand that must always win duels for its owner, a wand worthy of a wizard who had conquered Death! So Death crossed to an elder tree on the banks of the river, fashioned a wand from a branch that hung there, and gave it to the oldest brother.

"Then the second brother, who was an arrogant man, decided that he wanted to humiliate Death still further, and asked for the power to recall others from Death. So Death picked up a stone from the riverbank and gave it to the second brother, and told him that the stone would have the power to bring back the dead.

"And then Death asked the third and youngest brother what he would like. The youngest brother was the humblest and also the wisest of the brothers, and he did not trust Death. So he asked for something that would enable him to go forth from that place without being followed by Death. And Death, most unwillingly, handed over his own Cloak of Invisibility."

"Death's got an Invisibility Cloak?" Harry asked.

"So he can sneak up on people," Ron replied. "Sometimes he gets bored of running at them, flapping his arms and shrieking . . . sorry, Hermione."

"Then Death stood aside and allowed the three brothers to continue on their way, and they did so, talking with wonder of the adventure they had had, and admiring Death's gifts.

"In due course the brothers separated, each for his own destination.

"The first brother traveled on for a week or more, and reaching a distant village, sought out a fellow wizard with whom he had a quarrel. Naturally, with the Elder Wand as his weapon, he could not fail to win the duel that followed. Leaving his enemy dead upon the floor, the oldest brother proceeded to an inn, where he boasted loudly of the powerful wand he had snatched from Death himself, and of how it made him invincible.

"That very night, another wizard crept upon the oldest brother as he lay, wine-sodden, upon his bed. The thief took the wand and, for good measure, slit the oldest brother's throat.

"And so Death took the first brother for his own.

"Meanwhile, the second brother journeyed to his own home, where he lived alone. Here he took out the stone that had the power to recall the dead, and turned it thrice in his hand. To his amazement and his delight, the figure of the girl he had once hoped to marry, before her untimely death, appeared at once before him.

"Yet she was sad and cold, separated from him as by a veil. Though she had returned to the mortal world, she did not truly belong there and suffered. Finally the second brother, driven mad with hopeless longing, killed himself so as truly to join her.

"And so Death took the second brother for his own.

"But though Death searched for the third brother for many years, he was never able to find him. It was only when he had attained a great age that the youngest brother finally took off the Cloak of Invisibility and gave it to his son. And then he greeted Death as an old friend, and went with him gladly, and, equals, they departed this life."

Hermione closed the book.

Xenophilius seemed to realize she had stopped reading after a moment or two. "Well, there you are."

Venus blinked. "What do you mean?"

"Those are the Deathly Hallows." He picked up a quill from a packed table at his elbow and pulled a torn piece of parchment from between more books. "The Elder Wand." He drew a straight vertical line on the parchment. "The Resurrection Stone." He added a circle on top fo the line. "The Cloak of Invisbility." He enclosed the line and ricle in a triangle to make the symbol. "Together, the Deathly Hallows."

"But there's no mention of the words Deathly Hallows in the story," Hermione protested.

"Well, of course not," Xenophilius responded, maddeningly smug. "That is a children's tale, told to amuse rather than to instruct. Those of us who understand these matters, however, recognize that the ancient story refers to three objects, or Hallows, which, if united, will make the possessor master of Death." There was a short silence in which Xenophilius glanced out the window, where the sun was low in the sky. "Luna ought to have enough Plimpies soon."

"When you say master of Death—" Ron started to say.

He waved an airy hand. "Master. Conqueror. Vanquisher. Whichever term you prefer."

"But then . . . do you mean . . . that you believe these objects — these Hallows — actually exist?" Hermione questioned.

Xenophilius raised his eyebrows again. "Well, of course."

"But, Mr. Lovegood, how can you possibly believe—?"

"Luna has told me all about you, young lady. You are, I gather, not unintelligent, but painfully limited. Narrow. Close-minded."

Ron nodded towards the headdress. "Perhaps you ought to try on the hat, Hermione."

"Mr. Lovegood," Hermione state. "We all know that there are such things as Invisibility Cloaks. They are rare, but they exist. But—"

"Ah, but the Third Hallow is a true Cloak of Invisibility, Miss Granger!" Xenophilius exclaimed. "I mean to say, it is not a traveling cloak imbued with a Disillusionment Charm, or carrying a Bedazzling Hex, or else woven from Demiguise hair, which will hide one initially but fade with the years until it turns opaque. We are talking about a cloak that really and truly renders the wearer completely invisible, and endures eternally, giving constant and impenetrable concealment, no matter what spells are cast at it. How many cloaks have you ever seen like that, Miss Granger?"

Hermione opened her mouth to answer, then closed it again, looking more confused than ever. Venus looked up at Harry, realization settling in her chest. It just so happened that a cloak exactly like the one Xenophilius had just described was in the room with them at that very moment.

"Exactly. None of you have ever seen such a thing. Thepossessor would be immeasurably rich, would he not?"

He glanced out the window again. The sky was now tinged with the faintest trace of pink.

"All right," Hermione voiced. "Say the Cloak existed. . . what about the stone, Mr. Lovegood? The thing you call the Resurrection Stone?"

"What of it?" Xenophilius inquired.

"Well, how can that be real?"

"Prove that it is not."

Hermione looked outraged. "But that's — I'm sorry, but that's completely ridiculous! How can I possibly prove it doesn't exist? Do you expect me to get hold of — of all the pebbles in the world and test them? I mean, you could claim that anything's real if the only basis for believing in it is that nobody's proved it doesn't exist!"

"Yes, you could," Xenophilius replied. "I am glad to see that you are opening your mind a little."

"So the Elder Wand, you think that exists too?" Harry cut in quickly before Hermione could retort.

"Oh, well, in that case there is endless evidence. The Elder Wand is the Hallow that is most easily traced, because of the way in which it passes from hand to hand."

"Which is what?"

"Which is that the possessor of the wand must capture it fromits previous owner, if he is to be truly master of it," Xenophilius revealed. "Surely you have heard of the way the wand came to Egbert the Egregious, after his slaughter of Emeric the Evil? Of how Godelot died in his own cellar after his son, Hereward, took the wand from him? Of the dreadful Loxias, who took the wand from Barnabas Deverill, whom he had killed? The bloody trail of the Elder Wand is splattered across the pages of Wizarding history."

"So where do you think the Elder Wand is now?" Ron asked.

"Alas, who knows? Who knows where the Elder Wand lies hidden? The trail goes cold with Arcus and Livius. Who can say which of them really defeated Loxias, and which took the wand? And who can say who may have defeated them? History, alas, does not tell us."

There was a pause.

"Mr. Lovegood, does the Peverell family have anything to do with the Deathly Hallows?" Hermione questioned stiffly.

Venus tilted her head. Peverell. It sounded familiar.

Xenophilius sat up straighter in his chair. "But you have been misleading me, young woman! I thought you were new to the Hallows Quest! Many ofus Questers believe that the Peverells have everything — everything! — to do with the Hallows!"

"Who are the Peverells?" Ron inquired.

"That was the name on the grave with the mark on it, in Godric's Hollow," Hermione responded, still watching Xenophilius. "Ignotus Peverell."

"Exactly!" Xenophilius confirmed. "The sign of the Deathly Hallows on Ignotus' grave is conclusive proof!"

"Sorry," Venus said. "Proof of what?"

"Why, that the three brothers in the story were actually the three Peverell brothers, Antioch, Cadmus, and Ignotus! That they were the original owners of the Hallows!" He glanced again at the window before getting to his feet, picking up the tray, and heading down the spiral staircase. "You will stay for dinner? Everybody always requests our recipe for Freshwater Plimpy soup."

"Probably to show the Poisoning Department at St. Mungo's," Ron mumbled.

They waited to hear Xenophilius moving about in the kitchen downstairs before talking.

"What do you think?" Harry asked Hermione.

Hermione sighed. "Oh, Harry, it's a pile of utter rubbish. This can't be what the sign really means. This must just be his weird take on it. What a waste of time."

"I s'pose this is the man who brought us Crumple-Horned Snorkacks," Ron stated.

"You don't believe it either?" Harry questioned to him.

"Nah, that story's just one of those things you tell kids to teach them lessons, isn't it? Don't go looking for trouble, don't pick fights, don't go messing around with stuff that's best left alone! Just keep your head down, mind your own business, and you'll be okay. Come to think of it, maybe that story's why elder wands are supposed to be unlucky."

"What are you talking about?"

"One of those superstitions, isn't it?" Ron continued. "May-born witches will marry Muggles. Jinx by twilight, undone by midnight. Wand of elder, never prosper. You must've heard them. My mum's full of them."

"Harry and I were raised by Muggles," Hermione reminded him. "We were taught different superstitions. And Venus was around muggle culture in New York City."

Harry looked at his girlfriend. "Star?"

"I don't know," Venus admitted. "I mean, it kind of makes sense, but I've heard that story my entire life. Mom and dad always told me it was a morality tale, depending on which gift you would choose."

The four of them spoke at the same time. Venus and Hermione said the Cloak, Ron said the wand, and Harry said the stone. They all looked at each other, half surprise, half amused.

Ron looked at Venus and Hermione. "You're supposed to say the Cloak, but you wouldn't need to be invisible if you had the wand. An unbeatable wand, Hermione, Venus, come on!"

"We've already got an Invisibility Cloak," Harry voiced.

Venus shrugged. "I just think it's cool."

"And it's helped us rather a lot, in case you hadn't noticed!" Hermione reminded them. "Whereas the wand would be bound to attract trouble—"

"Only if you shouted about it," Ron argued. "Only if you were prat enough to go dancing around, waving it over your head, and singing, I've got an unbeatable wand, come and have a go if you think you're hard enough. As long as you kept your trap shut—"

"Yes, but could you keep your trap shut? You know, the only true thing he said to us was that there have been stories about extra-powerful wands for hundreds of years."

"There have?" Harry inquired.

Hermione looked exasperated, an endearingly familiar expression. "The Deathstick, the Wand of Destiny, they crop up under different names through the centuries, usually in the possession of some Dark wizard who's boasting about them. Professor Binns mentioned some of them, but — oh, it's all nonsense. Wands are only as powerful as the wizards who use them. Some wizards just like to boast that theirs are bigger and better than other people's."

"But how do you know that those wands — the Deathstick and the Wand of Destiny — aren't the same wand, surfacing over the centuries under different names?" Harry asked.

"What, and they're all really the Elder Wand, made by Death?" Ron countered. Harry laughed at that. "So why would you take the stone?"

"Well, if you could bring people back, we could have Sirius . . . Mad-Eye . . . Dumbledore . . . my parents . . ." Venus frowned slightly at them, squeezing his arm comfortingly. "But according to Beedle the Bard, they wouldn't want to comeback, would they? I don't suppose there have been loads of other stories about a stone that can raise the dead, have there?"

"No," Hermione replied sadly. "I don't think anyone except Mr. Lovegood could kid themselves that's possible. Beedle probably took the idea from the Sorcerer's Stone; you know, instead of a stone to make you immortal, a stone to reverse death."

A horrible smell from the kitchen was getting stronger. Venus started to feel herself get lightheaded from it.

"What about the Cloak, though?" Ron questioned slowly. "Don't you realize, he's right? I've got so used to Harry's Cloak and how good it is, I never stopped to think. I've never heard of one like Harry's. It's infallible. We've never been spotted under it—"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Of course not — we're invisible when we're under it, Ron!"

"But all the stuff he said about other cloaks, and they're not exactly ten a Knut, you know, is true! It's never occurred to me before, but I've heard stuff about charms wearing off cloaks when they get old, or them being ripped apart by spells so they've got holes in. Harry's was owned by his dad, so it's not exactly new, is it, but it's just . . . perfect!"

"Yes, all right, but Ron, the stone . . ."

Harry tugged his arm against Venus'. She looked up at him, and his eyes were questioning her if she would would come with him. Venus gave him a small nod. Together, they walked to the spiral stairs. When she looked up, Harry's face was looking back at her from the ceiling of the room above. Her eyebrows knit in thought. It wasn't a mirror, it was a painting. Together, her and Harry started to climb the stairs.

"Harry, Venus, what are you doing?" Hermione called. "I don't think you should look around when he's not here!"

However, they had already reached the next level. Luna had decorated her bedroom ceiling with nine beautifully painted faces — Harry, Venus, Ron, Penelope, Hermione, Elijah, Charlotte, Ginny, and Neville. They were not moving like the portraits at Hogwarts moved, but there was a certain magic around them all the same. What appeared to be fine golden chains wove around the pictures, linking them together. After examining them for a minute, Venus realized that the gold chains were actually one word, repeated a thousand times in golden ink — friends.

A great rush of affection for Luna spread throughout Venus. She continued to look around the room. There was a large photograph beside the bed of a young Luna hugging a woman who looked a lot like her. However, the picture was dusty. That was odd.

Something was really wrong. The pale blue carpet was thick with dust. There were no clothes in the wardrobe, whose doors stood ajar. The bed had a cold, unfriendly look, like it hadn't been slept in for weeks. A single cobweb stretched over the nearest window across a bloodred sky.

"Harry," Venus said.

"I know," he responded quietly. "Come on."

Venus and Harry descended down the stairs.

"What's wrong?" Hermione inquired, noticing their expressions.

Before they could respond, Xenophilius reached the top of the stairs from the kitchen. He was now holding a tray with bowls.

"Mr. Lovegood," Harry stated. "Where's Luna?"

Xenophilius blinked. "Excuse me?"

"Where's Luna?"

He halted on the top step. "I — I've already told you. She is down at Bottom Bridge, fishing for Plimpies."

"There are only five bowls on that tray," Venus insisted. "If Luna was here, there would be six."

Xenophilius tried to speak, but no sound came out. The only noise was the continued chugging of the printing press, and a slight rattle from the tray as Xenophilius' hands shook.

"It looks like Luna hasn't been here for weeks," Venus continued. "All of her clothes are gone, and her bed hasn't been slept in. So where is she? And why do you keep looking out the window?"

Xenophilius dropped the tray, making the bowls bounce and smash. Venus, Harry, Ron, and Hermione all drew their wands. Xenophilius froze, his hand about to enter his pocket. At that moment the printing press gave a huge bang and numerous Quibblers came streaming across the floor from underneath the tablecloth. The press fell silent at last.

Hermione bent down and picked up one of the magazines, her wand still pointed at Xenophilius. "Harry, look at this."

Venus looked at one of the ones that laid on the floor. Harry's picture was on the front along with the words UNDESIRABLE NUMBER ONE. It was captioned with the reward money.

"The Quibbler's going for a new angle, then?" Harry asked coldly. "Is that what you were doing when you went into the garden, Mr. Lovegood? Sending an owl to theMinistry?"

Xenophilius licked his lips. "They took my Luna. Because of what I've been writing. They took my Luna and I don't know where she is, what they've done to her. But they might give her back to me if I — if I—"

"Hand over Harry?" Hermione finished.

"No deal," Ron refused. "Get out of the way, we're leaving."

Xenophilius scowled. "They will be here at any moment. I must save Luna. I cannot lose Luna. You must not leave."

He spread his arms in front of the staircase.

Venus' eyes flashed with anger. "And I can't lose Harry. So move."

"Don't make us hurt you," Harry told him. "Get out of the way, Mr. Lovegood."

"HARRY!" Hermione screamed.

Figures on broomsticks were flying past the windows. The four of them looked away from him, and Xenophilius drew his wand. Harry suddenly launched himself sideways, shoving Venus, Ron, and Hermione out of the way as Xenophilius' Stunning Spell soared across the room and hit the Erumpent horn.

The explosion was colossal, and the sound of it seemed to blow the room apart. Fragments of wood and paper and rubble flew in all directions, along with a cloud of thick white dust. Venus felt herself get launched in the air and she yelled as she hit the floor, raising her arms over his head. She could hear Harry land somewhere near her, Hermione's scream, Ron's shout, and a series of sickening metallic thuds, which told her that Xenophilius had fallen backwards down the spiral stairs.

Half buried in rubble, Venus tried to rise, but she could hardly breathe or see with all the dust. Half of the ceiling had fallen in, and the end of Luna's bed was hanging through the hole. The bust of Rowena Ravenclaw laid near her with only half its face, fragments of torn parchment were floating through the air, and most of the printing press lay on its side, blocking the top of the staircase to the kitchen. Another white shape moved past her — Hermione, coated in dust and looking like a statue, pressed her finger to her lips.

The door downstairs crashed open.

"Didn't I tell you there was no need to hurry, Travers?" a rough voice demanded. "Didn't I tell you this nutter was just raving as usual?"

There was a bang.

Xenophilius let out a scream of pain, making Venus wince. "No . . . no . . . upstairs . . . Potter!"

"I told you last week, Lovegood, we weren't coming back for anything less than some solid information!" the rough voice insisted. "Remember last week? When you wanted to swap your daughter for that stupid bleeding headdress? And the week before—" another bang, another squeal "—when you thought we'd give her back if you offered us proof there are Crumple—" bang "—Headed—" bang "—Snorkacks?"

Xenophilius sobbed. "No — no — I beg you! It really is Potter! Really!"

"And now it turns out you only called us here to try and blow us up!"

There were more bangs combined with squeals of agony from Xenophilius. Venus squeezed her eyes shut.

"The place looks like it's about to fall in, Selwyn," a cool second voice, Travers, echoed up the mangled staircase. "The stairs are completely blocked. Could try clearing it? Might bring the place down."

"You lying piece of filth," Selwyn voiced. "You've never seen Potter in your life, have you? Thought you'd lure us here to kill us, did you? And you think you'll get your girl back like this?"

"I swear . . . I swear . . . Potter's upstairs!" Xenophilius insisted.

"Homenum revelio," Travers recited.

Venus let out a small noise of shock. There was an odd sensation that something was swooping low over her, immersing his body in its shadow.

"There's someone up there all right, Selwyn."

"It's Potter, I tell you, it's Potter!" Xenophilius let out through his sobs. "Please . . .please . . . give me Luna, just let me have Luna. . . ."

"You can have your little girl, Lovegood, if you get up those stairs and bring me down Harry Potter," Selwyn told him. "But if this is a plot, if it's a trick, if you've got an accomplice waiting up there to ambush us, we'll see if we can spare a bit of your daughter for you to bury."

Xenophilius gave a wail of fear and despair. There were scurryings and scrapings — he was desperately trying to get through the debris on the stairs.

"Come on, we've got to get out of here," Harry urged in a whisper.

Venus dug herself out under the cover of all the noise Xenophilius was making on the staircase. Harry extended his hand out to her, and she used it to pull herself up. Ron was buried the deepest, and Venus, Harry, and Hermione climbed as quietly as they could over all the wreckage, trying to lift a heavy chest of drawers off of his legs. While Xenophilius' banging and scraping drew closer, Venus managed to free Ron using a Hover Charm

"All right," Hermione breathed out as the broken printing press blocking the top of the stairs started to tremble, signaling Xenophilius was feet away from them. "Do you trustme, Harry?" Harry nodded. "Okay then, give me the Invisibility Cloak. Ron, you're going to put it on."

"Me?" Ron questioned. "But Harry—"

"Please, Ron! Harry, hold on tight to my hand, Ron, grab my shoulder, V, grab my other shoulder."

Venus did as she was told. She grabbed onto Hermione's shoulder and held it tight. Harry took her left hand and Ron vanished underneath the cloak. The printing press blocking the stairs was vibrating — Xenophilius was trying to shift it using a Hover Charm. Venus wasn't sure what Hermione was waiting for.

"Hold tight," Hermione voiced. "Hold tight . . . any second . . ."

Xenophilius' paper-white face appeared over the top of the sideboard.

"Obliviate!" Hermione cried, pointing her wand at his face. She then pointed her wand at the floor beneath them. "Deprimo!"

She had blasted a hole in the sitting room floor. The four of them fell like boulders, Venus clutching onto her shoulder and her wand for dear life. There was a scream from below, and she vaguely saw two men trying to get out of the way as vast quantities of rubble and broken furniture rained all around them from the shattered ceiling. Hermione twisted in midair and the thundering of the collapsing house rang in Venus' ears as she was dragged into darkness.

╞════════ ༺ ༻ ════════╡

VENUS GASPED AS her feet hit the ground, stumbling backwards for a moment before regaining her balance. She looked around, slightly panicked. They seemed to have landed in the corner of a field at dusk.

Hermione was already running in a circle around them, waving her wand. "Protego Totalum . . . Salvio Hexia . . ."

"That treacherous old bleeder!" Ron shouted, taking off the Invisibility Cloak and throwing it to Harry. "Hermione,you're a genius, a total genius, I can't believe we got out of that!"

"Cave Inimicum . . . didn't I say it was an Erumpent horn, didn't I tell him? And now his house has been blown apart!"

"Serves him right." Ron examined his torn jeans and the cuts on his legs. "What d'you reckon they'll do to him?"

"Oh, I hope they don't kill him!" Hermione exclaimed. "That's why I wanted the Death Eaters to get a glimpse of Harry before we left, so they knew Xenophilius hadn't been lying!"

"Why hide me, though?" Ron inquired.

"You're supposed to be in bed with spattergroit, Ron! They've kidnapped Luna because her father supported Harry! What would happen to your family if they knew you're with him?"

"But what about your mum and dad?"

"They're in Australia," Hermione reassured. "They should be all right. They don't know anything."

"You're a genius," Ron repeated, an awed look on his face.

"You are," Venus stated.

"Yeah, you are, Hermione," Harry agreed. "I don't know what we'd do without you."

Hermione beamed, but became solemn again. "What about Luna?"

"Well, if they're telling the truth and she's still alive—" Ron began.

"Please don't say that," Venus voiced, feeling her heart sink. "She has to be alive."

"Then she'll be in Azkaban, I expect. Whether she survives the place, though . . . loads don't. . . ."

"She will," Harry said firmly. "She's tough, Luna, much tougher than you'd think. She's probably teaching all the inmates about Wrackspurts and Nargles."

"I hope you're right," Hermione responded. "I'd feel so sorry for Xenophilius if—"

"—if he hadn't just tried to sell us to the Death Eaters, yeah," Ron finished.

They put up the tent and went inside, where Ron made them all tea. After their narrow escape, the tent felt like home — safe, familiar, friendly.

"Oh, why did we go there?" Hermione let out through a groan after a few minutes of silence. "Harry, you were right, it was Godric's Hollow all over again, a complete waste of time! The Deathly Hallows . . . such rubbish . . . although actually, he might have made it all up, mightn't he? He probably doesn't believe in the Deathly Hallows at all, he just wanted to keep us talking until the Death Eaters arrived!"

"I don't think so," Ron responded. "It's a damn sight harder making stuff up when you're under stress than you'd think. I found that out when the Snatchers caught me. It was much easier pretending to be Stan, because I knew a bit about him, than inventing a whole new person. Old Lovegood was under loads of pressure, trying to makesure we stayed put. I reckon he told us the truth, or what he thinks is the truth, just to keep us talking."

Hermione sighed. "Well, I don't suppose it matters. Even if he was being honest, I never heard such a lot of nonsense in all my life."

"Hang on, though. The Chamber of Secrets was supposed to be a myth, wasn't it?"

"But the Deathly Hallows can't exist, Ron!"

"You keep saying that, but one of them can," Ron insisted. "Harry's Invisibility Cloak—"

"The Tale of the Three Brothers is a story," Hermione protested. "A story about how humans are frightened of death. If surviving was as simple as hiding under the Invisibility Cloak, we'd have everything we need already!"

Harry turned his new wand over his fingers. "I don't know. We could do with an unbeatable wand."

"There's no such thing, Harry!"

"You said there have been loads of wands — the Deathstick and whatever they were called—"

"All right, even if you want to kid yourself the Elder Wand's real, what about the Resurrection Stone?" Hermione countered sarcastically, using air quotes around the name. "No magic can raise the dead, and that's that!"

"When my wand connected with You-Know-Who's, it made my mum and dad appear . . . and Cedric . . ." Harry revealed.

"But they weren't really back from the dead, were they? Those kinds of — of pale imitations aren't the same as truly bringing someone back to life."

"But she, the girl in the tale, didn't really come back, did she? The story says that once people are dead, they belong with the dead. But the second brother still got to see her and talk to her, didn't he? He even lived with her for a while . . ."

Venus slightly shuddered. The thought of living with dead people made her feel slightly frightened.

"So that Peverell bloke who's buried in Godric's Hollow, you don't know anything about him, then?" Harry asked.

"No," Hermione answered. "I looked him up after I saw the mark on his grave; if he'd been anyone famous or done anything important, I'm sure he'd be in one of our books. The only place I've managed to find the name Peverell is Nature's Nobility: A Wizarding Genealogy." She noticed Ron raised his eyebrows. "I borrowed it from Kreacher. It lists the Pureblood families that are now extinct in the male line. Apparently the Peverells were one of the earliest families to vanish."

"Extinct in the male line?" Ron echoed.

"It means the name's died out, centuries ago, in the case of the Peverells. They could still have descendants, though, they'd just be called something different."

"Marvolo Gaunt!" Harry suddenly yelled.

"Sorry?" Venus, Ron, and Hermione chorused.

"Marvolo Gaunt! You-Know-Who's grandfather! In the Pensieve! With Dumbledore! Marvolo Gaunt said he was descended from the Peverells! The ring, the ring that became the Horcrux, Marvolo Gaunt said it had the Peverell coat of arms on it! I saw him waving it in the bloke from the Ministry's face, he nearly shoved it up his nose!"

"The Peverell coat of arms?" Hermione said sharply. "Could you see what it looked like?"

"Not really," Harry responded. "There was nothing fancy on there, as far as I could see; maybe a few scratches. I only ever saw it really close up after it had been cracked open."

Venus tilted her head slightly in thought. This new revelation . . . it start of made everything start to make sense.

Ron looked astonished. "Blimey . . . you reckon it was this sign again? The sign of the Hallows?"

"Why not?" Harry voiced excitedly. "Marvolo Gaunt was an ignorant old git who lived like a pig, all he cared about was his ancestry. If that ring had been passed down through the centuries, he might not have known what it really was. There were no books in that house, and trust me, he wasn't the type to read fairy tales to his kids. He'd have loved to think the scratches on the stone were a coat of arms, because as far as he was concerned, having pure blood made you practically royal."

"Yes . . . and that's all very interesting, but Harry, if you're thinking what I think you're think—" Hermione started to say.

"Well, why not? Why not? It was a stone, wasn't it? What if it was the Resurrection Stone?"

Ron's mouth fell open. "Blimey — but would it still work if Dumbledore broke—?"

"Work?" Hermione repeated incredulously, getting to her feet. "Work? Ron, it never worked! There's no such thing as a Resurrection Stone! Harry, you're trying to fit everything into the Hallows story—"

"Fit everything in?" Harry responded. "Hermione, it fits of its own accord! I know the sign of the Deathly Hallows was on that stone! Gaunt said he was descended from the Peverells!"

"A minute ago you told us you never saw the mark on the stone properly!"

"Okay, everyone chill out for just a second," Venus cut in, her tone calm. "Love, what did Dumbledore do with the ring after he broke it open?"

He didn't answer her. Venus watched as he got lost in his thoughts, his imagination racing ahead.

"Harry," Venus stated. "You still with us?"

He gasped. "Dumbledore had my Cloak the night my parents died!" Venus blinked, taken aback, at his shaking voice and his face turning red. "My mum told Sirius that Dumbledore borrowed the Cloak! This is why! He wanted to examine it, because he thought it was the third Hallow! Ignotus Peverell is buried in Godric's Hollow. . . ." He started to walk blindly around the tent. "He's my ancestor! I'm descended from the third brother! It all makes sense!"

"Harry," Hermione tried.

He ignored her, undoing the pouch around his neck with shaking fingers. "Read it." Harry shoved the letter that Lily Potter had written to Sirius Black into Hermione's hands. " Read it! Dumbledore had the Cloak, Hermione! Why else would he want it? He didn't need a Cloak, he could perform a Disillusionment Charm so powerful that he made himself completely invisible without one!"

Something then fell to the floor and rolled, glittering, under a chair. Harry leaned down and picked up the Snitch that he had dislodged when he pulled out the letter.

"IT'S IN HERE!" Harry shouted. "He left me the ring — it's in the Snitch!"

"You — you reckon?" Ron stammered.

Harry's face suddenly fell, making Venus stare at him in concern. "That's what he's after. You-Know-Who's after the Elder Wand."

The change in his voice made shivers crawl up Venus' spine. She watched as Harry walked to the entrance of the tent. Somehow, she believed what he was saying. And if Voldemort was really going after the most powerful wand in existence, well . . . they were positively screwed.

"This is it," Harry voiced after a couple of minutes of staring outside. "This explains everything. The Deathly Hallows are real, and I've got one — maybe two—" he held up the Snitch "—and You-Know-Who's chasing the third, but he doesn't realize . . . he just thinks it's a powerful wand—"

"Harry, I'm sorry, but I think you've got this wrong, all wrong," Hermione interrupted, handing Harry back Lily's letter.

"But don't you see? It all fits—"

"No, it doesn't. It doesn't, Harry, you're just getting carried away. Please, please just answer me this: If the Deathly Hallows really existed, and Dumbledore knew about them, knew that the person who possessed all three of them would be master of Death — Harry, why wouldn't he have told you? Why?"

"But you said it, Hermione!" Harry reminded her. "You've got to find out about them for yourself! It's a Quest!"

"But I only said that to try and persuade you to come to the Lovegoods'!" Hermione cried. "I didn't really believe it!"

"Dumbledore usually let me find out stuff for myself. He let me try my strength, take risks. This feels like the kind of thing he'd do."

"Harry, this isn't a game, this isn't practice! This is the real thing, and Dumbledore left you very clear instructions: Find and destroy the Horcruxes! That symbol doesn't mean anything, forget the Deathly Hallows, we can't afford to get sidetracked—" Hermione immediately rounded on Venus, noticing Harry wasn't listening because he was turning the Snitch over and over in his hands. "What do you think, V? And don't agree with him just because you're dating."

Venus snuck a quick glance at Harry for a moment. "I mean . . . it makes sense, Hermione."

Hermione shook her head and turned to Ron. "You don't believe in this, do you?"

Ron hesitated. "I dunno . . . I mean . . . bits of it sort of fit together. But when you look at the whole thing . . . I think we're supposed to get rid of Horcruxes, Harry. That's what Dumbledore told us to do. Maybe . . . maybe we should forget about this Hallows business."

"Thank you, Ron. I'll take first watch."

Hermione then strode past Harry and sat down in the tent entrance. Venus slowly walked up to Harry, silently questioning if he was okay. Harry gave her a small nod. She offered him a small smile before placing a hand on his shoulder, pressing up onto her toes to kiss his cheek. He still seemed kind of out of it, but he managed to respond by kissing her forehead.

They packed up the tent next morning and moved on through a dreary shower of rain. The downpour followed them to the coast, where they pitched the tent that night. They stayed a whole week there on the coast through sodden landscapes. Venus could tell that Harry was only thinking about the Deathly Hallows, and although she admired it, she knew that they had to bring him back down to Earth to focus on Horcruxes eventually. Harry, however, had started to view Ron and Hermione's insistence on the Horcruxes as an obsession.

"Obsession?" Hermione repeated in a low, fierce voice, when Harry used the word one evening after Hermione told him off for his lack of interest in locating more Horcruxes. "We're not the ones with an obsession, Harry! We're the ones tryingto do what Dumbledore wanted us to do!"

"The last enemy that shall be destroyed is death," Harry calmly recited.

"I thought it was You-Know-Who we were supposed to be fighting?"

Harry gave up on her, and Venus took his hand in hers to reassure him.

As the weeks crept on, Venus started to notice that Ron seemed to be taking charge. Maybe it was because he felt bad for walking out on them or maybe it was because Harry was so caught up in the Deathly Hallows. Whatever it was, he was now the one encouraging the other three into action.

"Three Horcruxes left," Ron kept saying. "We need a plan of action, come on! Where haven't we looked? Let's go through it again. The orphanage . . ."

Diagon Alley, Hogwarts, the Riddle House, Borgin and Burkes, Albania. They kept going over every place that Tom Riddle had ever lived, worked, visited, or murdered.

Ron had also started to suggest more unlikely places to keep them moving. "You never know. Upper Flagley is a Wizarding village, he might've wanted to live there. Let's go and have a poke around."

These frequent trips into Wizarding territory brought them within occasional sight of Snatchers.

"Some of them are supposed to be as bad as Death Eaters. The lot that got me were a bit pathetic, but Bill reckons some of them are really dangerous. They said on Potterwatch—"

"On what?" Harry questioned.

"Potterwatch, didn't I tell you that's what it was called? The program I keep trying to get on the radio, the only one that tells the truth about what's going on! Nearly all the programs are following You-Know-Who's line, all except Potterwatch. I really want you to hear it, but it's tricky tuning in . . ."

Ron spent every evening using his wand to beat out various rhythms on top of the wireless radio while the dials whirled. Occasionally they would catch advice on how to treat Dragonpox and once a few bars of A Cauldron Full of Hot Strong Love. While he tapped, Ron continued to try to get the correct password, muttering strings of random words under his breath.

"They're normally something to do with the Order," he told them. "Bill had a real knack for guessing them. I'm bound to get one in the end . . ."

Ron didn't figure it out until March. Venus had been sitting in the tent reading a random book for something to do until voices started to come out of the radio. She sat up, staring at Ron, who looked happy that he had gotten it.

"I've got it, I've got it!" Ron shouted, Venus tossing aside her book and walking over to where the little radio was. "Password was Albus! Get in here, Harry!"

"I apologize for our temporary absence from the airwaves, which was due to a number of house calls in our area by those charming Death Eaters," a very familiar voice announced.

"But that's Lee Jordan!" Hermione exclaimed.

Ron beamed. "I know! Cool, eh?"

". . . now found ourselves another secure location, and I'm pleased to tell you that two of our regular contributors have joined me here this evening." Lee continued. "Evening, boys!"

"Hi."

"Evening, River."

"River, that's Lee," Ron explained. "They've all got code names, but you can usually tell—"

"Shh!" Hermione scolded.

"But before we hear from Royal and Romulus, let's take a moment to report those deaths that the Wizarding Wireless Network News and Daily Prophet don't think important enough to mention," Lee stated. "It is with great regret that we inform our listeners of the murders of Ted Tonks and Dirk Cresswell."

Venus suddenly felt sick. Her and Harry shared a horrified glance.

"Ted," Ron whispered. "Oh my God, Penelope."

"A Goblin by the name of Gornuk was also killed," Lee reported. "It is believed that Muggle-born Dean Thomas and a second Goblin, both believed to have been traveling with Tonks, Cresswell, and Gornuk, may have escaped. If Dean is listening, or if anyone has any knowledge of his whereabouts, his parents and sisters are desperate for news.

Meanwhile, in Gaddley, a Muggle family of five has been found dead in their home. Muggle authorities are attributing the deaths to a gas leak, but members of the Order of the Phoenix inform me that it was the Killing Curse — more evidence, as if it were needed, of the fact that Muggle slaughter is becoming little more than a recreational sport under the new regime.

"Finally, we regret to inform our listeners that the remains of Bathilda Bagshot have been discovered in Godric's Hollow. The evidence is that she died several months ago. The Order of the Phoenix informs us that her body showed unmistakable signs of injuriesinflicted by Dark Magic.

"Listeners, I'd like to invite you now to join us in a minute's  silence in memory of Ted Tonks, Dirk Cresswell, Bathilda Bagshot, Gornuk, and the unnamed, but no less regretted, Muggles murdered by the Death Eaters."

Silence fell, and Venus, Harry, Ron, and Hermione didn't speak. Venus reached over and took Harry's hand in hers, holding it tight for comfort. She wanted to hear more, but she also was afraid of what might come next.

"Thank you," Lee said. "And now we turn to regular contributor Royal, for an update on how the new Wizarding order is affecting the Muggle world."

"Thanks, River," an unmistakable deep voice replied.

"Kingsley!" Ron exclaimed.

Hermione hushed him. "We know!"

"Muggles remain ignorant of the source of their suffering as they continue to sustain heavy casualties," Kingsley explained. "However, we continue to hear truly inspirational stories of wizards and witches risking their own safety to protect Muggle friends and neighbors, often without the Muggles' knowledge. I'd like to appeal to all our listeners to emulate their example, perhaps by casting a protective charm over any Muggle dwellings in your street. Many lives could be saved if such simple measures are taken."

"And what would you say, Royal, to those listeners who reply that in these dangerous times, it should be Wizards first?" Lee inquired.

"I'd say that it's one short step from Wizards first to Purebloods first, and then to Death Eaters. We're all human, aren't we? Every human life is worth the same, and worth saving."

"Excellently put, Royal, and you've got my vote for Minister of Magic if ever we get out of this mess. And now, over to Romulus for our popular feature Pals of Potter."

"Thanks, River," another very familiar voice responded.

Hermione spoke up before Ron. "We know it's Lupin!"

"Romulus, do you maintain, as you have every time you've appeared on our program, that Harry Potter is still alive?" Lee asked.

"I do," Lupin revealed. "There is no doubt at all in my mind that his death would be proclaimed as widely as possible by the Death Eaters if it had happened, because it would strike a deadly blow at the morale of those resisting the new regime. The Boy Who Lived remains a symbol of everything for which we are fighting: the triumph of good, the power of innocence, the need to keep resisting."

"And what would you say to Harry if you knew he was listening, Romulus?"

"I'd tell him we're all with him in spirit. And I'd tell him to follow his instincts, which are good and nearly always right."

Harry squeezed Venus' hand. She squeezed back.

"Nearly always right," Hermione said.

Ron looked surprised. "Oh, didn't I tell you? Bill told me Lupin's living with Tonks again! And apparently she's getting pretty big too . . ."

". . . and our usual update on those friends of Harry Potter's who are suffering for their allegiance?" Lee continued.

"Well, as regular listeners will know, several of the more outspoken supporters of Harry Potter have now been imprisoned, including Xenophilius Lovegood, erstwhile editor of The Quibbler," Lupin stated.

"At least he's still alive!" Ron muttered.

"We have also heard within the last few hours that Rubeus Hagrid—" the four of them gasped and nearly missed the rest of the sentence "—well-known gamekeeper at Hogwarts School, has narrowly escaped arrest within the grounds of Hogwarts, where he is rumored to have hosted a Support Harry Potter party in his house. However, Hagrid was not taken into custody, and is, we believe, on the run."

"I suppose it helps, when escaping from Death Eaters, if you've got a sixteen-foot-high half brother?" Lee suggested.

"It would tend to give you an edge," Lupin agreed gravely. "May I just add that while we here at Potterwatch applaud Hagrid's spirit, we would urge even the most devoted of Harry's supporters against following Hagrid's lead. Support Harry Potter parties are unwise in the present climate."

"Indeed they are, Romulus, so we suggest that you continue to show your devotion to the man with the lightning scar by listening to Potterwatch! And now let's move to news concerning the wizard who is proving just as elusive as Harry Potter. We like to refer to him as the Chief Death Eater, and here to give his views on some of the more insane rumors circulating about him, I'd like to introduce a new correspondent: Rodent."

"Rodent?" another familiar voice repeated.

"Fred!" Harry, Ron, and Hermione cried.

Venus blinked. "Is it bad to say I thought it was George?"

"It's Fred, I think," Ron admitted, leaning in closer.

"I'm not being Rodent, no way, I told you I wanted to be Rapier!" Fred insisted.

"Oh, all right then. Rapier, could you please give us your take on the various stories we've been hearing about the Chief Death Eater?" Lee questioned.

"Yes, River, I can. As our listeners will know, unless they've taken refuge at the bottom of a garden pond or somewhere similar, You-Know-Who's strategy of remaining in the shadows is creating a nice little climate of panic. Mind you, if all the alleged sightings of him are genuine, we must have a good nineteen You-Know-Whos running around the place."

"Which suits him, of course," Kingsley stated. "The air of mystery is creating more terror than actually showing himself."

"Agreed," Fred said. "So, people, let's try and calm down a bit. Things are bad enough without inventing stuff as well. For instance, this new idea that You-Know-Who can kill with a single glance from his eyes. That's a Basilisk, listeners. One simple test: Check whether the thing that's glaring at you has got legs. If it has, it's safe to look into its eyes, although if it really is You-Know-Who, that's still likely to be the last thing you ever do."

Venus, for the first time in a while, let out a small laugh. God, she missed Fred.

"And the rumors that he keeps being sighted abroad?" Lee urged.

"Well, who wouldn't want a nice little holiday after all the hard work he's been putting in?" Fred inquired. "Point is, people, don't get lulled into a false sense of security, thinking he's out of the country. Maybe he is, maybe he isn't, but the fact remains he can move faster than Severus Snape confronted with shampoo when he wants to, so don't count on him being a long way away if you're planning on taking any risks. I never thought I'd hear myself say it, but safety first!"

"Thank you very much for those wise words, Rapier. Listeners, that brings us to the end of another Potterwatch. We don't know when it will be possible to broadcast again, but you can be sure we shall be back. Keep twiddling those dials: The next password will be Mad-Eye. Keep each other safe: Keep faith. Good night."

The radio's dial twirled and the lights behind the tuning panel went out. Venus, Harry, Ron, and Hermione were still smiling. Hearing familiar voices was such a breath of fresh air.

"Good, eh?" Ron asked happily.

"Brilliant," Harry commented.

Venus shrugged. "I think they should've brought Charlie on. She would've killed it. But I guess she is at school."

Hermione sighed admiringly. "It's so brave of them. If they were found . . ."

"Well, they keep on the move, don't they?" Ron reminded her. "Like us."

"But did you hear what Fred said?" Harry questioned excitedly. "He's abroad! He's still looking for the Wand, I knew it!"

"Harry—" Hermione began.

"Come on, Hermione, why are you so determined not to admit it? Vol—"

Venus' eyes widened, remembering what Ron had said. "Harry, stop—"

"—demort's after the Elder Wand!" Harry finished.

"The name's Taboo!" Ron shouted, getting to his feet as a loud crack sounded outside the tent. "I told you, Harry, I told you, we can't say it anymore — we've got to put the protection back around us — quickly — it's how they find—"

Ron stopped talking, and Venus knew why. The Sneakoscope on the table that had been still for so long had lit up and begun to spin. Venus' head snapped over to the entrance of the tent as she heard voices come nearer and nearer — rough, excited voices. Ron pulled the Deluminator out of his pocket and clicked it. Their lamps immediately went out.

"Come out of there with your hands up!" a rasping voice ordered through the darkness. "We know you're in there! You've got half a dozen wands pointing at you and we don't care who we curse!"

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five more chapters and they're long ones BUCKLE UP BESTIES