They probably tran s figured Moody and stuffed him Ц “
“DonТ t!” squealed Hermione. Startled, Harry looked over just in time to see her burst into tears over her copy of SpellmanТ s Syll
a bary .
“Oh no,” said Harry, struggling to get up from the old camp bed. “Hermione, I wasnТ t tr y
ing to upset Ц “
But with a great creaking of rusty bedsprings, Ron bounded off the bed and got there first. One arm around Hermione, he fished in his jeans pocket and withdrew a revolting-looking handke
r chief that he had used to clean out the
oven earlier. Hastily pulling out his wand, he pointed it at the rag and said, “ Tergeo. ”
The wand siphoned off most of the grease. Loo k
ing rather pleased with himself, Ron handed the slightly smoking handke r chief to Hermione.
“Oh . . . thanks, Ron. . . . IТ m sorry. . . .” She blew her nose and hiccupped. “ItТ s just so awf-ful, isnТ t it? R-right after Dumbledore . . . I j-just n-never imagined Mad-Eye dying, som
e how, he seemed so tough!”
“Yeah, I know,” said Ron, giving her a squeeze. “But you know what heТ d say to us if he was here?”
“Т C-constant vigilance,Т ” said Hermione, mo p ping her eyes.
“ThatТ s right,” said Ron, nodding. “HeТ
d tell us to learn from what happened to him. And what IТ ve learned is not to trust that cowardly little squit, Mundungus.”
Hermione gave a shaky laugh and leaned fo r
ward to pick up two more books. A second later, Ron had snatched his arm back from around her shoulders; she had dropped The Monster of Monsters
on his foot. The book had broken free from its restraining belt and snapped viciously at RonТ s ankle.
“IТ m sorry, IТ m sorry!” Hermione cried as Harry wrenched the book from RonТ s leg and r e
tied it shit.
“What are you doing with all those books an y way?” Ron asked, limping back to his bed.
“Just trying to decide which ones to take with us,” said Hermione, “When weТ re looking for the Horcruxes.”
“Oh, of course,” said Ron, clapping a hand to his forehead. “I forgot weТ ll be hunting down Vold e
mort in a mobile library.”
“Ha ha,” said Hermione, looking down at Spel l
manТ s Syllabary . “I wonder . . . will we need to tran
s late runes? ItТ s possible. . . . I think weТ d better take it, to be safe.”
She dropped the syllabary onto the larger of the two piles and picked up Hogwarts, A Hi s
tory.
“Listen,” said Harry.
He had sat up straight. Ron and Hermione looked at him with similar mixtures of resignation and def i ance.
“I know you said after DumbledoreТ s funeral that you wanted to come with me,” Harry b e gan.
“Here he goes,” Ron said to Hermione, rolling his eyes.
“As we knew he would,” he sighed, turning back to the books. “You know, I think I will take
Ho g warts, A History.
Even if weТ re not going back there, I donТ t think IТ d feel right if I didnТ t have it with Ц “
“Listen!” said Harry again.
“No, Harry, you listen,” said Hermione. “WeТ re coming with you. That was decided months ago
Ц years, really.”
“But Ц “
“Shut up,” Ron advised him.
“Ц are you sure youТ ve thought this through?” Harry persisted.
“LetТ s see,” said Hermione, slamming Travels with Trolls
onto the discarded pile with a rather fierce look. “IТ ve been packing for days, so weТ re ready to leave at a momentТ s notice, which for your inform a
tion has included doing some pretty difficult magic, not to mention smuggling Mad-EyeТ s whole stock of Polyjuice Potion right under RonТ s mumТ s nose.
“IТ ve also modified my parentsТ memories so that theyТ re convinced theyТ re really called Wendell and Monica Wilkins, and that their lifeТ s ambition is to move to Australia, which they have now done. ThatТ
s to make it more difficult for Voldemort to track them down and interrogate them about me Ц or you, b e
cause unfortunately, IТ ve told them quite a bit about you.
“Assuming I survive our hunt for the Horcruxes, IТ ll find Mum and Dad and lift the enchan t ment. If I don
Т t Ц well, I think IТ ve cast a good enough charm to keep them
safe and happy. Wendell and Monica Wi l kins donТ t know that theyТ ve got a daug
h ter, you see.”
HermioneТ s eyes were swimming with tears again. Ron got back off the bed, put his arm around her once more, and frowned at Harry as though r e
proaching him for lack of tact. Harry could not think of anything to say, not least because it was highly u n
usual for Ron to be teaching anyone else tact.
“I Ц Hermione, IТ m sorry Ц I didnТ t Ц “
“DidnТ t realize that Ron and I know pe r fectly well what might happen
if we come with you? Well, we do. Ron, show Harry what youТ ve done.”
“Nah, heТ s just eaten,” said Ron.
“Go on, he needs to know!”
“Oh, all right. Harry, come here.”
For the second time Ron withdrew his arm from around Hermione and stumped over to the door.
“CТ mon.”
“Why?” Harry asked, following Ron out of the room onto the tiny landing.
“ Descendo ,”
muttered Ron, pointing his wand at the low ceiling. A hatch opened right over their heads and a ladder slid down to their feet. A horrible, half-sucking, half-moaning sound came out of the square hole, along with an unpleasant smell like open drains.

“ThatТ s your ghoul, isnТ t it?” asked Harry, who had never actually met the creature that som e
times disrupted the nightly s i lence.
“Yeah, it is,” said Ron, climbing the ladder. “Come and have a look at him.”
Harry followed Ron up the few short steps into the tiny attic space. His head and shoulders were in the room before he caught sight of the creature curled up a few feet from him, fast asleep in the gloom with its large mouth wide open.
“But it . . . it looks . . . do ghouls normally wear pajamas?”
“No,” said Ron. “Nor have they usually got red hair or that number of pustules.”
Harry contemplated the thing, slightly r e volted. It was human in shape and size, and was wea
r ing what, now that HarryТ s eyes b e
came used to the darkness, was clearly an old pair of RonТ
s pajamas. He was also sure that ghouls were generally rather slimy and bald, rather than distinctly hairy and covered in angry pu r
ple blisters.
“HeТ s me, see?” said Ron.
“No,” said Harry. “I donТ t.”
“IТ ll explain it back in my room, the smellТ s ge t ting to me,”
said Ron. They climbed back down the ladder, which Ron returned to the ceiling, and r e
joined Hermione, who was still sorting books.
“Once weТ ve left, the ghoulТ s going to come and live down here in my room,” said Ron. “I think heТ s really looking forward to it Ц well, itТ s hard to tell, because all he can do is moan and drool Ц
but he nods a lot when you mention it. Anyway, heТ s going to be me with spattergroit. Good, eh?”
Harry merely looked his confusion.
“It is!” said Ron, clearly frustrated that Harry had not grasped the brilliance of the plan. “Look, when we three donТ t turn up at Hogwarts again, everyoneТ s g o
ing to think Hermione and I must be with you, right? Which means the Death Eaters will go straight for our families to see if theyТ ve got inform
a tion on where you are.”
“But hopefully itТ ll look like IТ ve gone away with Mum and Dad; a lot of Mu
g gle-borns are talking about going into hiding at the m
o ment,” said Hermione.
“We canТ t hide my whole family, itТ ll look too fishy and they canТ t all leave their jobs,” said Ron. “So weТ re going to put out the story that IТ m seriously ill with spatte
r groit, which is why I canТ t go back to school. If an
y one comes calling to investigate, Mum or Dad can show them the ghoul in my bed, covered in pustules. Spattergroit
Т s really co n tagious, so theyТ re not going to want to go near him. It wonТ t matter that he can
Т t say anything, either, because apparently you canТ t once the fungus has spread to your uvula.”
“And your mum and dad are in on this plan?” asked Harry.
“Dad is. He helped Fred and George transform the ghoul. Mum . . . well, youТ ve seen what sheТ s like. She wonТ t accept weТ re going till weТ re gone.”
There was silence in the room, broken only by gentle thuds as Hermione continued to throw books onto one pile or the other. Ron sat watching her, and Harry looked from one to the other, unable to say an
y thing. The measure they had taken to protect their families made him r
e
alize, more than anything else could have done, that they really were going to come with him and that they knew exactly how dangerous that would be. He wanted to tell them what that meant to him, but he si
m ply could not find words important enough.
Through the silence came the muffled sounds of Mrs. Weasley shouting from four floors b e low.
“GinnyТ s probably left a speck of dust on a poxy napkin ring,” said Ron. “I dunno why the Del a
cours have got to come two days before the wedding.”
“FleurТ s sisterТ s a bridesmaid, she needs to be here for the rehearsal, and sheТ s too young to come on her own,” said Hermione, as she pored indecisively over
Break with a Banshee .
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