CXIX. NON-FICTION OF A FICTION
21:79 ─❁────────── 31:80
◁ Ⅱ ▷
❝Sometimes the only payoff for having any faith
All along you're hiding even when you're by my side❞
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LUCIA LET OUT A COHERENT "Oof" as she rolled on the ground. Opening her eyes, she realised that they seemed to have landed in the corner of a field at dusk. She looked around and saw Hermione already running in a circle around them, waving her wand.
"Protego Totalum... Salvio Hexia..."
"That treacherous old bleeder!" Ron panted, emerging from beneath the Invisibility Cloak and throwing it to Harry, who Lucia had just realised was scrambling up to his feet. "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!"
"Ha... ha..." Lucia laughed nervously, getting up to her feet, brushing the excess grass off her long skirt, "Yeah... imagined if someone was dumb enough to want to touch it..."
Harry sent a half-amused and half-expected gaze.
"Serves him right," said Ron, examining his torn jeans and the cuts to his legs. "What d'you reckon they'll do to him?"
"I hope they don't kill him though..." mumbled Lucia. "As a traitor as he was, he also did it for a valid reason."
"That's why I wanted the Death Eaters to get a glimpse of Harry before we left," claimed Hermione, "so they knew Xenophilius hadn't been lying!"
"Why hide me, though?" asked Ron.
"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," said Hermione. "They should be all right. They don't know anything."
"You're a genius," Ron repeated, looking awed.
"Yeah, you are, Hermione," agreed Harry fervently. "I don't know what we'd do without you."
"You'd be six feet underground months ago," Lucia joked.
They chuckled, and Hermione beamed at them.
"What about Luna?"
"Well, if they're telling the truth and she's still alive —" began Ron.
"Don't say that, don't say it!" squealed Hermione. "She must be alive, she must!"
"Luna's out there somewhere... captured..." she looked down to her boots, fear slowly encasing him.
"Captured in Azkaban, I expect," said Ron. "Whether she survives the place, though... Loads don't..."
"She will," said Harry, interlacing his and Lucia's fingers together, giving her an assuring squeeze of consolation when he saw her body shook violently as though she would've crumbled if it weren't for his touch. He could not contemplate the alternative. "She's tough, Luna, much tougher than you'd think. She's probably teaching all the inmates about Wrackspurts and Nargles."
"She does have a knack for that, Luna does," Lucia let out a feeble laugh, trying to convince herself that. However, she could not believe just how much a few days could change in the world...
"I hope you're right," said Hermione. She passed a hand over her eyes. "I'd feel so sorry for Xenophilius if —"
"— if he hadn't just tried to sell us to the Death Eaters, yeah," said Ron.
They put up the tent and retreated inside it, where Ron made them tea. After their narrow escape, the chilly, musty old place felt like home: safe, familiar, and friendly.
"It seems that this is the second trip you lot went that was supposed to be nice and peaceful but turns into a near-death situation turn chaos," said Lucia nonchalantly, blowing her hot tea. "You really don't have the greatest of luck,"
"Oh, why did we go there?" groaned Hermione after a few minutes' 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," a sudden thought seemed to have struck her, "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," said Ron. "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 make sure we stayed put. I reckon he told us the truth, or what he thinks is the truth, just to keep us talking."
"Well, I don't suppose it matters," sighed Hermione. "Even if he was being honest, I never heard such a lot of nonsense in all my life."
"This is where we're the complete opposite, Hermione," said Lucia. "I believe the Hallows do exist, and I feel like you would too if you just open your mind a bit. People said the Chamber of Secret was a myth, but then the basilisk went on and attack Muggle-born — Ginny almost died there."
"Oh not this rubbish again," Hermione looked exasperatedly, but Lucia rolled her eyes, not even trying to cover up she did. "The Deathly Hallows can't exist!"
"You keep saying that, but one of them can," said Ron. "Harry's Invisibility Cloak —"
"'The Tale of the Three Brothers' is a story," said Hermione firmly. "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!"
"I don't know. We could do with an unbeatable wand," said Harry, turning the blackthorn wand he so disliked over in his fingers.
"There's no such thing, Harry!"
"You're the one that said there were loads of wands like that, I'm not sure how the Deathly Hallows can't exist when magic does?" Lucia sipped her tea serenely.
"All right, even if you want to kid yourself the Elder Wand's real, what about the Resurrection Stone?" Her fingers sketched quotation marks around the name, and her tone dripped sarcasm. "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..."
"But they weren't really back from the dead, were they?" said Hermione. "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..."
Lucia scrunched her nose at the story, and knew instantly that she was not the only that was wavered by the story of the second brother as Hermione's face was written with an expression of fear: Harry had scared her with his talk of living with dead people.
"So that Peverell bloke who's buried in Godric's Hollow," he said hastily, trying to sound robustly sane, "you don't know anything about him, then?"
"No," she replied, looking relieved at the change of subject. "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. I borrowed it from Kreacher," she explained as Ron raised his eyebrows. "It lists the pure-blood 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'?" repeated Ron.
"It means the name's died out," said Hermione, "centuries ago, in the case of the Peverells."
"You mean they could still have descendants, just with a different surnames?" Lucia asked.
"Most likely,"
And then it came to Harry in one shining piece, the memory that had stirred at the sound of the name "Peverell": a filthy old man brandishing an ugly ring in the face of a Ministry official, and he cried aloud, "Marvolo Gaunt!"
"Sorry?" said Ron and Hermione together.
"Who's Marvolo Gaunt?" asked Lucia uncaringly.
"You-Know-Who's grandfather! In the Pensieve! With Dumbledore! Marvolo Gaunt said he was descended from the Peverells!"
They stared at Harry with bewilderment.
"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?" said Hermione sharply. "Could you see what it looked like?"
"Not really," said Harry, trying to remember. "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."
Lucia saw Hermione's comprehension in the sudden widening of her eyes. Ron was looking from one to the other, astonished.
"Blimey...You reckon it was this sign again? The sign of the Hallows?"
"Why not?" said Harry 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," said Hermione cautiously, "but Harry, if you're thinking what I think you're think —"
"Well, why not? Why not?" said Harry, abandoning caution. "It was a stone, wasn't it?" He looked at Ron and Lucia for support. "What if it was the Resurrection Stone?"
"Bloody..."
"... hell," sighed the two. Lucia propped herself in her chair in brief wonder before saying, "While it could be a possibility..."
"But blimey — would it still work if Dumbledore broke — ?" Ron asked.
"Work? Work? Ron, it never worked! There's no such thing as a Resurrection Stone!"
Hermione had leapt to her feet, looking exasperated and angry. "Harry, you're trying to fit everything into the Hallows story —"
"Fit everything in?" he repeated. "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!"
"Maybe he did, he just didn't focus on its importance because he never knew it would be?" argued Lucia.
Hermione was about to rebut when Ron quickly cut her off. "Where d'you reckon the ring is now?" he asked Harry. "What did Dumbledore do with it after he broke it open?"
But Harry's imagination was racing ahead, far beyond neither Ron, Lucia, nor Hermione...
Three objects, or Hallows, which, if united, will make the possessor master of Death... Master... Conqueror... Vanquisher... The last enemy that shall be destroyed is death...
And he saw himself, possessor of the Hallows, facing Voldemort, whose Horcruxes were no match... Neither can live while the other survives... Was this the answer? Hallows versus Horcruxes? Was there a way, after all, to ensure that he was the one who triumphed? If he were the master of the Deathly Hallows, would he be safe?
"Harry?"
But he scarcely heard Hermione: He had pulled out his Invisibility Cloak and was running it through his fingers, the cloth supple as water, light as air. He had never seen anything to equal it in his nearly seven years in the Wizarding world. The Cloak was exactly what Xenophilius had described: 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
And then, with a gasp, he remembered —
"Dumbledore had my Cloak the night my parents died!"
His voice shook and he could feel the colour in his face, but he did not care.
"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..." Harry was walking blindly around the tent, feeling as though great new vistas of truth were opening all around him. "He's my ancestor! I'm descended from the third brother! It all makes sense!"
He felt armed in certainty, in his belief in the Hallows, as if the mere idea of possessing them was giving him protection, and he felt joyous as he turned back to the other two.
"Harry," said Hermione again, but he was busy undoing the pouch around his neck, his fingers shaking hard.
"Read it," he told her, pushing his mother's letter into her hand. "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 fell to the floor and rolled, glittering, under a chair: He had dislodged the Snitch when he pulled out the letter. He stooped to pick it up, and then the newly tapped spring of fabulous discoveries threw him another gift, and shock and wonder erupted inside him so that he shouted out.
"IT'S IN HERE! He left me the ring — it's in the Snitch!"
Everything was becoming a doozy to Lucia. Words began to jumble up in her mind in a way she was sure she would've despised nor could she survive living in it as Harry went around about the Invisibility Cloak, the Deathly Hallows, and his mother's letter. She was just comprehending it all, and now the Snitch entered itself into the mix?
Sure Detective Lulock Dolmes could possibly comprehend it, but little Luciana DiFiore? She was confused. Like hell.
"You — you reckon?" Ron said, taken aback.
But after a moment or two, it was as though the adrenaline that was rushing in veins stopped, and the bubble of excitement he was in had popped. Concern filled the air as the grin of epiphany on Harry's lips slowly faded into a dark frown of revelation.
"That's what he's after."
The change in his tone made Lucia stammered, scared. "W-What do you mean? Who's after what?"
"You-Know-Who's after the Elder Wand."
He turned his back on their strained, incredulous faces. He knew it was the truth. It all made sense. Voldemort was not seeking a new wand; he was seeking an old wand, a very old wand indeed. Harry walked to the entrance of the tent, seemingly forgetting about them for a moment as he looked out into the night sky thinking...
Voldemort had been raised in a Muggle orphanage. Nobody could have told him The Tales of Beedle the Bard when he was a child, any more than Harry had heard them. Hardly any wizards believed in the Deathly Hallows. Was it likely that Voldemort knew about them?
Harry gazed into the darkness... If Voldemort had known about the Deathly Hallows, surely he would have sought them, done anything to possess them: three objects that made the possessor master of Death? If he had known about the Deathly Hallows, he might not have needed Horcruxes in the first place. Didn't the simple fact that he had taken a Hallow, and turned it into a Horcrux, demonstrate that he did not know this last great Wizarding secret?
Which meant that Voldemort sought the Elder Wand without realizing its full power, without understanding that it was one of three... for the wand was the Hallow that could not be hidden, whose existence was best known... The bloody trail of the Elder Wand is splattered across the pages of Wizarding history...
Harry watched the cloudy sky, curves of smoke-gray and silver sliding over the face of the white moon. He felt lightheaded with amazement at his discoveries.
He turned back into the tent. It was a shock to see Ron, Lucia, and Hermione standing exactly where he had left them, Hermione still holding Lily's letter, Ron at her side looking slightly anxious, and Lucia seemingly trying to comprehend every information with each blink of her eyes. Didn't they realize how far they had traveled in the last few minutes?
"This is it," Harry said, trying to bring them inside the glow of his own astonished certainty. "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," said Hermione, moving across to him and handing him back Lily's letter, "I'm sorry, but I think you've got this wrong, all wrong."
"But don't you see? It all fits —"
"No, it doesn't," she said. "It doesn't, Harry, you're just getting carried away. Please," she said as he started to speak, "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?"
He had his answer ready.
"But you said it, Hermione! 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'!" cried Hermione in exasperation. "I didn't really believe it!"
Harry took no notice.
"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 —"
Harry was barely listening to her. He was turning the Snitch over and over in his hands, half expecting it to break open, to reveal the Resurrection Stone, to prove to Hermione that he was right, that the Deathly Hallows were real.
She appealed to Ron and Lucia, who had been standing awkwardly in the side-lines, having conversing the whole topic via eye contact.
"You don't believe in this, do you?"
Harry looked up.
"Uh... well... I believe the Deathly hallows does exist, and there's no doubt that Harry's Invisibility Cloak is proof of that. His are the only one that effects never wore of, so —"
"You always agree with him!" snapped Hermione.
Lucia flared. "And you never let me finish —"
But once again, Hermione didn't gave her a chance to finish, turning to Ron.
"You?"
"I dunno... I mean... bits of it sort of fit together," said Ron awkwardly. "But when you look at the whole thing..." He took a deep breath. "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," said Hermione. "I'll take first watch."
And she strode past Harry and sat down in the tent entrance, bringing the action to a fierce full stop.
"We aren't actually going to forget about this thing, are we? What if it's really significant?" Lucia seethed to Ron and Harry in a low whisper. "What if it's Plan B in defeating You-Know-Who?"
"Look, we're all exhausted from what happened back at the Lovegoods," said Ron, patting her shoulder. "And mind you, nothing can get pass Hermione once she made up her mind."
Harry remained silent, distracted in his deep thoughts.
Lucia glanced briefly at Harry before glaring down at the ground, slightly crestfallen. "Well, Hermione's not only stubborn, but she also has a very — narrow — mind." She hissed, "If she just open up her mind a bit, she would see that the Deathly Hallows could be real!"
Having enough of this, Lucia turned her heel to her and Hermione's bunk bed, climbing the top bunk and spent the whole night in contemplation. From their time at the Lovegoods, Lucia had learn many things: One was the existence of the Deathly Hallows, but the other thing was the model of Rowena Ravenclaw's diadem.
That was the first time the spectacles had made action since her father's journal, but that wasn't the only thing. Somehow that diadem reminded her too much of something —
She laughed mockingly to herself.
Of course it would have reminded her of something. Her mother showed her of the replica her father created in her life before depositing into somewhere, and she remembered wearing it too and imagined herself to be some kind of princess.
It was that beautiful replica her father created that made her wanted to start wearing something on her head.
It was like a desire of some sort.
They packed up the tent next morning and moved on through a dreary shower of rain. The downpour pursued them to the coast, where they pitched the tent that night, and persisted through the whole week, through sodden landscapes that was rather bleak and depressing much to Lucia's dismay, but she reckoned it was because of the discussion they had from yesterday that had damper the mood between the four of them. It was as if all four of them were distracted by their own beliefs.
"Obsession?" said Hermione in a low fierce voice, when Harry was careless enough to use the word one evening, after Hermione had 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 trying to do what Dumbledore wanted us to do!"
Lucia sighed. Here they go again, she thought as she handed Ron the cup of tea. They watched this whole scene unfold a little too many times already.
"I thought it was You-Know-Who we were supposed to be fighting?" Hermione retorted, and Harry gave up on her.
While Harry was obsessing over the Deathly Hallows, Lucia's mind could only go back to the Rowena Ravenclaw, whom recently haunted her mind. Even the mystery of the silver doe, which the other two insisted on discussing, seemed less important to her now, a vaguely interesting sideshow, for the only thing that could be of interest to her was the headpiece that was worn by Rowena Ravenclaw herself.
"A jasmine flower can be... the liquid that could... r-rust the tiar..."
A tiar... what?
A tiara?
Was that what he was trying to say before he died?
A jasmine flower can be the liquid that could rust a tiara...
Could the tiara be the diadem, if so why? What was the importance of the diadem? And what did he meant by a jasmine flower could be the liquid to rust it?
Lucia wished she could go back into her father's journal, but she was not even sure if it would work or not anymore for when she was suck out from his memories, it was nothing but forceful. Was this something he had left her for a reason?
Was telling her to figure out of the Riddle?
The riddle... the diadem...
"Just because you're a toddler, doesn't mean you can't remember okay, stellina? Remember how the diadem looks like. It is vital,"
"Princessy wear Lulu will... will... remembers!"
"This diadem, if anything happens to me, I hope you can carry out the task of destroying," Florian kissed little Lucia's temple, as she sat on his lap, gazing at the pretty diadem he was showing her with little wonder.
Was that the diadem?
Lucia's mind paced back and forth from one direction to another, as her thoughts bounced around her mind like little rabbits hopping uncontrollably. She tried to remember back the diadem, hoping to remember every little details of it, thinking it could jog her memories a bit, but she had forgotten just how faulty her memory could be in general.
Ah, I'm going to go crazy!
It was as if this was coming up into her mind so randomly, telling her to find it. Her mind began to swirl around in a doozy, causing her to bang her head quietly against the armchair's head.
This isn't important, Lucia!
Oh yeah? Are you sure about that?
Yes, I'm sure!
You'll be eating your words one day, you know...
Surely there isn't much significance in their journey, right? It wasn't as though it's a Horcrux — it's been lost for centuries...
But why did she really feel as though she would be eating her words the way her father ate his?
As the weeks crept on, Lucia took immediate notice of Ron's role as leader. Perhaps because he was determined to make up for having walked out on them, perhaps because Harry's descent into listlessness galvanized his dormant leadership qualities, but Ron was the one now encouraging and exhorting the other three into action.
"Three Horcruxes left," he 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, every place that they knew Tom Riddle had ever lived or worked, visited or murdered, they would raked over them again, Harry only joining into stop Hermione's pestering, but it was no secret that he would have been happy to sit alone in silence, trying to read Voldemort's thoughts, to find out more about the Elder Wand, but Ron insisted on journeying to ever more unlikely places simply to keep them moving.
"You never know," was Ron's constant refrain. "Upper Flagley is a Wizarding village, he might've wanted to live there. Let's go and have a poke around."
These frequent forays into Wizarding territory brought them within occasional sight of Snatchers.
"Some of them are supposed to be as bad as Death Eaters," said Ron. "The lot that got me were a bit pathetic, but Bill reckons some of them are really dangerous. They said on Potterwatch —"
"On what?" said Harry.
"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!"
"Aww," snorted Lucia. "What a cute name to use,"
"You don't know about? It existed even before you went to Hogwarts," said Ron ponderingly.
"Ah, well I wasn't in such a best state back then. All I wanted was to drown myself in my sorrow and die, so I never bother to pick anything up except for Crookshanks and helping around the kitchen with your mum," said Lucia casually. "Even during Hogwarts I was a mess now that I think about it,"
Harry's frown was shared with Ron and Hermione.
"We're so —"
"Shut up, I don't want to hear more unneeded apologies anymore," said Lucia. "Tell us more about Potterwatch, Ronniekins,"
"You know how nearly all the programs are following You-Know-Who's line?" The three nodded in suit of his words. "Well, all except Potterwatch. I really want you to hear it, but it's tricky tuning in..."
Ron spent evening after evening using his wand to beat out various rhythms on top of the wireless while the dials whirled. Occasionally they would catch snatches of advice on how to treat dragon pox, and once a few bars of "A Cauldron Full of Hot Strong Love." While he tapped, Ron continued to try to hit on 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..."
But not until March did luck favour Ron at last. Lucia was sitting blankly on her bunk, folding clothes in means of filling up her evidently vast time when Ron suddenly shouted excitedly from the centre of the tent.
"I've got it, I've got it! Password was 'Albus'! Get in here, Harry!"
Lucia stopped what she was doing at once and slither down the upper bunk, landing on her feet swiftly before she dropped to her knees beside the little radio Ron and Hermione, who had been polishing the sword of Gryffindor just for something to do, kneeled at right as Harry hurriedly entered the tent and joining them. Hermione stared at the tiny speaker, from which a most familiar voice was issuing.
"... 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."
"But that's Lee Jordan!" said Hermione
"I know!" beamed Ron. "Cool, eh?"
"...now found ourselves another secure location," Lee was saying, "and I'm pleased to tell you that two of our regular contributors have joined me here this evening. Evening, boys!"
"Hi."
"Evening, River."
"'River'?" Lucia looked perplexed at Ron.
"That's Lee," he explained. "They've all got code names, but you can usually tell —"
"Shh!" said Hermione.
"But before we hear from Royal and Romulus," Lee went on, "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. It is with great regret that we inform our listeners of the murders of Ted Tonks and Dirk Cresswell."
Lucia furrowed her eyes. Tonks? As in, Nymphadora Tonk's father?
It seemed that she was somewhat right as she saw Harry, Ron, and Hermione gazing at one another in horror.
"A goblin by the name of Gornuk was also killed. 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."
Dean?
Her heart sunk inevitably at the sound of her friend. She wondered if Seamus and the others were listening to this as well and was holding each other, for even as she had the ground for support, she had never felt so weak before.
"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 injuries inflicted 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 Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Lucia did not speak. Although Lucia wanted to know more, but she also did not think she could bear more tragic news.
"Thank you," said Lee's voice. "And now we turn to regular contributor Royal, for an update on how the new Wizarding order is affecting the Muggle world."
"Thanks, River," said an unmistakable voice, deep, measured, reassuring.
"Kingsley!" burst out Ron.
"We know!" said Hermione, hushing him.
"Muggles remain ignorant of the source of their suffering as they continue to sustain heavy casualties," said Kingsley. "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'?" asked Lee.
"I'd say that it's one short step from 'Wizards first' to 'Purebloods first,' and then to 'Death Eaters,'" replied Kingsley. "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," said Lee. "And now, over to Romulus for our popular feature 'Pals of Potter.'"
"Thanks, River," said another very familiar voice; Ron started to speak, but Hermione forestalled him in a whisper.
"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?"
"I do," said Lupin firmly. "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."
Perhaps it was just her imagination, but Lucia sounded quite healthier than he usually was. She found her lips curling, she wondered whether it was because he was becoming a parent sooner or later?
"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," said Lupin, then hesitated slightly. "And I'd tell him to follow his instincts, which are good and nearly always right."
"Nearly always right," Hermione, who were full of tears, repeated.
"Oh, didn't I tell you?" said Ron in surprise. "Bill told me Lupin's living with Tonks again! And apparently she's getting pretty big too..."
"That's a relief," said Lucia feebly.
"...and our usual update on those friends of Harry Potter's who are suffering for their allegiance?" Lee was saying.
"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," said Lupin.
"At least he's still alive!" muttered Ron.
"And regarding of the recent disappearance of a students, Lucia DiFiore" — Harry and Hermione gaped at Lucia, who gulped nervously, but Ron didn't seem all that surprise — "during the 21st of December, on her birthday at that, we had word from an insider in Hogwarts that she did not disappear but instead fled from the place before she could get captured by Snatchers, who were seemingly tracking her down 'till this day for a little slip up she had done,"
Lucia breathed out sheepishly, yet she felt tears welling her eyes slightly.
"Ah, damn it..." she wiped it away. "I guess I worried them, didn't I?"
"You scared quite a lot," said Ron jokingly, rubbing her back.
"We have also heard within the last few hours that Rubeus Hagrid" — all four of them gasped, and so 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."
"Oh honestly," Lucia laughed tearfully, "Trust Hagrid to do such things,"
Harry smiled weakly at this, resting his hand on top of hers. It was refreshing, hearing her laughter that sounded like a mixture of harmonious melodies in his ears once more.
"I suppose it helps, when escaping from Death Eaters, if you've got a sixteen-foot-high half-brother?" asked Lee.
"It would tend to give you an edge," agreed Lupin 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," said Lee, "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 rumours circulating about him, I'd like to introduce a new correspondent: Rodent."
"'Rodent'?" said yet another familiar voice, and Harry, Ron, and Hermione cried out together:
"Fred!"
"No — is it George?"
"It's Fred, I think," said Ron, leaning in closer, as whichever twin it was said, "I'm not being 'Rodent,' no way, I told you I wanted to be 'Rapier'!"
"He got married, you know?" said Ron them. "Erin and him, they actually eloped. Only George, Lee, Angerlina, Katie, and Alicia was there. Mum wasn't all that surprised, Bill said. Disappointed, but not surprise. He said that he'll make up to her after this whole thing was over with a grand wedding —"
"Shush!" Hermione hushed him again.
"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?"
"Yes, River, I can," said Fred. "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," said Kingsley. "The air of mystery is creating more terror than actually showing himself."
"Agreed," said Fred. "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."
Lucia found herself laughing once again, though it was more brighter due to its humourless circumstances.
"And the rumours that he keeps being sighted abroad?" asked Lee.
"Well, who wouldn't want a nice little holiday after all the hard work he's been putting in?" asked Fred. "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," said Lee. "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."
"And If you're listening to this, Little Flower, stay clear off danger and don't even think twice than to run the opposite away whenever you see a Snatcher. Stay safe everyone." said Fred through the radio in finality.
The radio's dial twirled and the lights behind the tuning panel went out. Harry, Ron, Lucia, and Hermione were still beaming. Hearing familiar, friendly voices was an extraordinary tonic. After months of being in a deep sense of isolation in her mind, she had forgotten that they and the Order are not the only ones that were resisting Voldemort. It was like waking from a long sleep.
"Good, eh?" said Ron happily.
"Brilliant," said Harry.
"It's so brave of them," sighed Hermione admiringly. "If they were found..."
"Then they keep on moving," said Lucia. "Right? Like us?"
"But did you hear what Fred said?" asked Harry excitedly; now the broadcast was over, his thoughts turned again toward his all-consuming obsession. "He's abroad! He's still looking for the Wand, I knew it!"
"Harry —"
"Come on, Hermione, why are you so determined not to admit it? Vol —"
"HARRY, NO!"
"— demort's after the Elder Wand!"
"You had one job, Harry! One job!" Lucia cried, panicking as she looked around.
"The name's Taboo!" Ron bellowed, leaping to his feet as a loud crack sounded outside the tent. "I told you, Harry, we told you, we can't say it anymore — we've got to put the protection back around us — quickly — it's how they find —"
But Ron stopped talking, and Lucia knew why. The Sneakoscope on the table had lit up and begun to spin; they could hear voices coming nearer and nearer: rough, excited voices. Ron pulled the Deluminator out of his pocket and clicked it: Their lamps went out.
"Come out of there with your hands up!" came a rasping voice 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!"