Complete and Utter Poppycock

Chapter 17: The Deathly Hallows

Chapter 17: The Deathly Hallows

We fell onto grass. I scrambled up to my feet at once, taking a breath in relief. We seemed to have landed in a corner of a field. Hermione was running a circle around us already with her protective enchantments.

We set up the tent and retreated inside it. We barely escaped, and I was so relieved to finally get out of that disaster. Xenophilius was a funny character and had a way of showing it. I felt so bad for him. All alone without his only daughter. . . That's just awful.

We talked about the Deathly Hallows for some time. I argued with Hermione a bit because I actually believed they were real. I mean, all that rubbish in a story for it not to be? It couldn't possibly be make-believe.

We talked about it all night. How Harry got over-excited about the Deathly Hallows, of how Voldemort could be after the Hallows, too, trying to get the Elder Wand. Hermione kept arguing that it wasn't possible of any of those things, except she believed int the invisibility cloak. I mean, how could she believe in that and not the others?

It made sense to me. I understood it. I thought the whole thing was rather interesting. We have one of the Hallows, maybe two, if Harry really does have the Resurrection Stone inside the golden snitch.

As weeks went on, Ron took charge because of Harry's obsession with the Hallows, becoming self-absorbed with them. Ron was now encouraging and exhorting us into action.

March strolled by as Ron spent an afternoon working with his radio-thing. He kept trying to hit the correct password, muttering strings of random words under his breath.

I was on my bed, searching for something through Hermione's beaded bag, looking for something to find to keep me occupied as I was very bored.

"I've got it! I've got it! Password was 'Albus'! Get in here, Harry!"

Harry hurried back inside, as we kneeled on the floor beside the little radio.

". . . 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,' that's Lee," Ron 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 with the murders of Ted Tonks and Dirk Cresswell."

My stomach dropped. Oh my goodness. We gazed 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.

"Meanwhile, in Gaddley, a Muggle family of five have 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 with the Killing Curse — more evidence, as if it were needed, of the fact that Muggle slaughter is becoming little more than a recreational sport of the new regime.