Ron snorted. "We sure did." A nutty old man, three Death Eaters, an obscure and sort of twisted story ... It didn't seem to have put them very far ahead, but maybe they just didn't know enough to understand. He had a little more faith in Dumbledore to point them in the right direction, these days.
His mouth pulled up into half a smile; her face looked a little red in the cold, and he reached over to take her hand, entirely unable to decide if he wished he had gloves. "I know we'll have to go ..." Well, it was hard to finish that optimistically. he looked out into the woods on the other side of the lake. "We'll find somewhere else. When we have to."