Gray and his face glistened with sweat.

“How d’you feel?” Hermione whispered.

“Lousy,” croaked Ron, wincing as he felt his injured arm. “Where are we?”

“In the woods where they held the Quidditch World Cup,” said Hermione. “I

wanted somewhere enclosed, undercover, and this was –“

“– the first place you thought of,” Harry finished for her, glancing around at the

Apparently deserted glade. He could not help remembering what had happened the last

time they had Apparated to the first place Hermione had thought of – how Death Eaters

had found them within minutes. Had it been Legilimency? Did Voldemort or his

henchmen know, even now, where Hermione had taken them?

“D’you reckon we should move on?” Ron asked Harry, and Harry could tell by

the look on Ron’s face that he was thinking the same.

“I dunno.”

Ron still looked pale and clammy. He had made no attempt to sit up and it looked

As though he was too weak to do so. The prospect of moving him was daunting.

“Let’s stay here for now,” Harry said.

Looking relieved, Hermione sprang to her feet.

“Where are you going?” asked Ron.

“If we’re staying, we should put some protective enchantments around the place,”

She replied, and raising her wand, she began to walk in a wide circle around Harry and

Ron, murmuring incantations as she went. Harry saw little disturbances in the

surrounding air: It was as if Hermione had cast a heat haze upon their clearing.

“Salvio Hexia . . . Protego Totalum . . . Repello Muggletum . . . Muffliato . . . You

could get out the tent, Harry. . . .”

“Tent?”

“In the bag!”

“In the . . . of course,” said Harry.

He did not bother to grope inside it this time, but used another Summoning Charm.

The tent emerged in a lumpy mass of canvas, ropes, and poles. Harry recognized it, partly

Because of the smell of cats, as the same tent in which they had slept on the night of the

Quidditch World Cup.

“I thought this belonged to that bloke Perkins at the Ministry?” he asked, starting

To disentangle the pent pegs.

“Apparently he didn’t want it back, his lumbago’s so bad,” said Hermione, now

performing complicated figure-of-eight movements with her wand. “so Ron’s dad said I

could borrow it. Erecto!” she added, pointing her wand at the misshapen canvas, which in

One fluid motion rose into the air and settled, fully constructed, onto the ground before

Harry, out of whose startled hands a tent peg soared, to land with a final thud at the end

Of a guy rope.

“Cave Inimicum,” Hermione finished with a skyward flourish. “That’s as much as

I can do. At the very least, we should know they’re coming; I can’t guarantee it will keep

out Vol –“

“Don’t say the name!” Ron cut across her, his voice harsh.

Harry and Hermione looked at each other.

“I’m sorry,” Ron said, moaning a little as he raised himself to look at them, “but it

feels like a – a jinx or something. Can’t we call him You-Know-Who – please?”

“Dumbledore said fear of a name –“ began Harry.

“In case you hadn’t noticed, mate, calling You-Know-Who by his name didn’t do

Dumbledore much good in the end,” Ron snapped back. “Just – just show You-Know-

Who some respect, will you?”

“Respect?” Harry repeated, but Hermione shot him a warning look; apparently he

Was not to argue with Ron while the latter was in such a weakened condition.

Date: 2015-12-11; view: 607