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‘My Lord, I have heard differently.’

Yaxley waited, but Voldemort did not speak, so he went on, ‘Dawlish, the Auror, let slip that Potter will not be moved until the thirtieth, the night before the boy turns seventeen.’

Snape was smiling.

‘My source told me that there are plans to lay a false trail; this must be it. No doubt a Confundus Charm has been placed upon Dawlish. It would not be the first time, he is known to be susceptible.’

‘I assure you, my Lord, Dawlish seemed quite certain,’ said Yaxley.

‘If he has been Confunded, naturally he is certain,’ said Snape. ‘I assure you, Yaxley, the Auror Office will play no further part in the protection of Harry Potter. The Order believes that we have infiltrated the Ministry.’

‘The Order’s got one thing right, then, eh?’ said a squat man sitting a short distance from Yaxley; he gave a wheezy giggle that was echoed here and there along the table.

Voldemort did not laugh. His gaze had wandered upwards, to the body revolving slowly overhead, and he seemed to be lost in thought.