FairyTales 版 (精华区)
发信人: julyrain (石头、剪子、布), 信区: FairyTales
标 题: CHAPTER THREE
发信站: 哈工大紫丁香 (Sat Feb 21 12:34:54 2004), 站内信件
— CHAPTER THREE —
The Advance Guard
I've just been attacked by Dementors and I might be expelled from llogwarts. I
want to know what's going on and when I'm going to get out of here.
Harry copied these words on to three separate pieces of parchment the moment h
e reached the desk in his dark bedroom. He addressed the first to Sirius, the
second to Ron and the third to Hermione. His owl, Hedwig, was off hunting; her
cage stood empty on the desk. Harry paced the bedroom waiting for her to come
back, his head pounding, his brain too busy for sleep even though his eyes st
ung and itched with tiredness. His back ached from hauling Dudley home, and th
e two lumps on his head where the window and Dudley had hit him were throbbing
painfully.
Up and down he paced, consumed with anger and frustration, grinding his teeth
and clenching his fists, casting angry looks out at the empty, star-strewn sky
every time he passed the window. Dementors sent to get him, Mrs Figg and Mund
ungus Fletcher tailing him in secret, then suspension fromHogwarts and a heari
ng at the Ministry of Magic - and still no one was telling him what was going
on.
And what, what, had that Howler been about? Whose voice had echoed so horribly
, so menacingly, through the kitchen?
Why was he still trapped here without information? Why was everyone treating h
im like some naughty kid? Don't do any more magic, stay in the house…
He kicked his school trunk as he passed it, but far from relieving his anger h
e felt worse, as he now had a sharp pain in his toe to deal with in addition t
o the pain in the rest of his body.
Just as he limped past the window, Hedwig soared through it with a soft rustle
of wings like a small ghost.
'About time!' Harry snarled, as she landed lightly on top of her cage. 'You ca
n put that down, I've got work for you!'
Hedwig's large, round, amber eyes gazed at him reproachfully over the dead fro
g clamped in her beak.
'Come here,' said Harry, picking up the three small rolls of parchment and a l
eather thong and tying the scrolls to her scaly leg. Take these straight to Si
rius, Ron and Hermione and don't come back here without good long replies. Kee
p pecking them till they've written decent-length answers if you've got to. Un
derstand?'
Hedwig gave a muffled hooting noise, her beak still full of frog.
'Get going, then,' said Harry.
She took off immediately. The moment she'd gone, Harry threw himself down on h
is bed without undressing and stared at the dark ceiling. In addition to every
other miserable feeling, he now felt guilty that he'd been irritable with Hed
wig; she was the only friend he had at number four, Privet Drive. But he'd mak
e it up to her when she came back with the answers from Sirius, Ron and Hermio
ne.
They were bound to write back quickly; they couldn't possibly ignore a Demento
r attack. He'd probably wake up tomorrow to three fat letters full of sympathy
and plans for his immediate removal to The Burrow. And with that comforting i
dea, sleep rolled over him, stifling all further thought.
*
But Hedwig didn't return next morning. Harry spent the day in his bedroom, lea
ving it only to go to the bathroom. Three times that day Aunt Petunia shoved f
ood into his room through the cat-flap Uncle Vernon had installed three summer
s ago. Every time Harry heard her approaching he tried to question her about t
he Howler, but he might as well have interrogated the doorknob for all the ans
wers he got. Otherwise, the Dursleys kept well clear of his bedroom. Harry cou
ldn't see the point of forcing his company on them; another row would achieve
nothing except perhaps make him so angry he'd perform more illegal magic.
So it went on for three whole days. Harry was alternately filled with restless
energy that made him unable to settle to anything, during which time he paced
his bedroom, furious at the whole lot of them for leaving him to stew in this
mess; and with a lethargy so complete that he could lie on his bed for an hou
r at a time, staring dazedly into space, aching with dread at the thought of t
he Ministry hearing.
What if they ruled against him? What if he was expelled and his wand was snapp
ed in half? What would he do, where would he go? He could not return to living
full-time with the Dursleys, not now he knew the other world, the one to whic
h he really belonged. Might he be able to move into Siriuss house, as Sirius h
ad suggested a year ago, before he had been forced to flee from the Ministry?
Would Harry be allowed to live there alone, given that he was still underage?
Or would the matter of where he went next be decided for him? Had his breach o
f the International Statute of Secrecy been severe enough to land him in a cel
l in Azkaban? Whenever this thought occurred, Harry invariably slid off his be
d and began pacing again.
On the fourth night after Hedwig's departure Harry was lying in one of his apa
thetic phases, staring at the ceiling, his exhausted mind quite blank, when hi
s uncle entered his bedroom. Harry looked slowly around at him. Uncle Vernon w
as wearing his best suit and an expression of enormous smugness.
'We're going out,' he said.
'Sorry?'
'We - that is to say, your aunt, Dudley and I - are going out.'
'Fine,' said Harry dully, looking back at the ceiling.
'You are not to leave your bedroom while we are away.'
'OK.'
'You are not to touch the television, the stereo, or any of our possessions.'
'Right.'
'You are not to steal food from the fridge.'
'OK.'
'I am going to lock your door.'
'You do that.'
Uncle Vernon glared at Harry, clearly suspicious of this lack of argument, the
n stomped out of the room and closed the door behind him. Harry heard the key
turn in the lock and Uncle Vernon's footsteps walking heavily down the stairs.
A few minutes later he heard the slamming of car doors, the rumble of an engi
ne, and the unmistakeable sound of the car sweeping out of the drive.
Harry had no particular feeling about the Dursleys leaving. It made no differe
nce to him whether they were in the house or not. He could not even summon the
energy to get up and turn on his bedroom light. The room grew steadily darker
around him as he lay listening to the night sounds through the window he kept
open all the time, waiting for the blessed moment when Hedwig returned. The e
mpty house creaked around him. The pipes gurgled. Harry lay there in a kind of
stupor, thinking of nothing, suspended in misery.
Then, quite distinctly, he heard a crash in the kitchen below. He sat bolt upr
ight, listening intently. The Dursleys couldn't be back, it was much too soon,
and in any case he hadn't heard their car.
There was silence for a few seconds, then voices. Burglars, he thought, slidin
g off the bed on to his feet - but a split second later it occurred to him tha
t burglars would keep their voices down, and whoever was moving around in the
kitchen was certainly not troubling to do so.
He snatched up his wand from the bedside table and stood facing his bedroom do
or, listening with all his might. Next moment, he jumped as the lock gave a lo
ud click and his door swung open. Harry stood motionless, staring through the
open doorway at the dark upstairs landing, straining his ears for further soun
ds, but none came. He hesitated for a moment, then moved swiftly and silently
out of his room to the head of the stairs.
His heart shot upwards into his throat. There were people standing in the shad
owy hall below, silhouetted against the streetlight glowing through the glass
door; eight or nine of them, all, as far as he could see, looking up at him.
'Lower your wand, boy, before you take someone's eye out,' said a low, growlin
g voice.
Harry's heart was thumping uncontrollably. He knew that voice, but he did not
lower his wand.
'Professor Moody?' he said uncertainly.
'I don't know so much about "Professor",' growled the voice, 'never got round
to much teaching, did I? Get down here, we want to see you properly.'
Harry lowered his wand slightly but did not relax his grip on it, nor did he m
ove. He had very good reason to be suspicious. He had recently spent nine mont
hs in what he had thought was Mad-Eye Moody's company only to find out that it
wasn't Moody at all, but an impostor; an impostor, moreover, who had tried to
kill Harry before being unmasked. But before he could make a decision about w
hat to do next, a second, slightly hoarse voice floated upstairs.
'It's all right, Harry. We've come to take you away.'
Harry's heart leapt. He knew that voice, too, though he hadn't heard it for ov
er a year.
'P-Professor Lupin?' he said disbelievingly. 'Is that you?'
'Why are we all standing in the dark?' said a third voice, this one completely
unfamiliar, a woman's. 'Lumos.'
A wand-tip flared, illuminating the hall with magical light. Harry blinked. Th
e people below were crowded around the foot of the stairs, gazing up at him in
tently, some craning their heads for a better look.
Remus Lupin stood nearest to him. Though still quite young, Lupin looked tired
and rather ill; he had more grey hairs than when Harry had last said goodbye
to him and his robes were more patched and shabbier than ever. Nevertheless, h
e was smiling broadly at Harry, who tried to smile back despite his state of s
hock.
'Oooh, he looks just like I thought he would,' said the witch who was holding
her lit wand aloft. She looked the youngest there; she had a pale heart-shaped
face, dark twinkling eyes, and short spiky hair that was a violent shade of v
iolet. 'Wotcher, Harry!'
'Yeah, I see what you mean, Remus,' said a bald black wizard standing furthest
back - he had a deep, slow voice and wore a single gold hoop in his ear - 'he
looks exactly like James.'
'Except the eyes,' said a wheezy-voiced, silver-haired wizard at the back. 'Li
ly's eyes.'
Mad-Eye Moody, who had long grizzled grey hair and a large chunk missing from
his nose, was squinting suspiciously at Harry through his mismatched eyes. One
eye was small, dark and beady, the other large, round and electric blue - the
magical eye that could see through walls, doors and the back of Moody's own h
ead. 'Are you quite sure it's him, Lupin?' he growled. 'It'd be a nice lookout
if we bring back some Death Eater impersonating him. We ought to ask him some
thing only the real Potter would know. Unless anyone brought any Veritaserum?'
'Harry, what form does your Patronus take?' Lupin asked. 'A stag,' said Harry
nervously. That's him, Mad-Eye,' said Lupin.
Very conscious of everybody still staring at him, Harry descended the stairs,
stowing his wand in the back pocket of his jeans as he came.
'Don't put your wand there, boy!' roared Moody. 'What if it ignited? Better wi
zards than you have lost buttocks, you know!'
'Who d'you know who's lost a buttock?' the violet-haired woman asked Mad-Eye i
nterestedly.
'Never you mind, you just keep your wand out of your back pocket!' growled Mad
-Eye. 'Elementary wand-safety, nobody bothers about it any more.' He stumped o
ff towards the kitchen. 'And I saw that,' he added irritably, as the woman rol
led her eyes towards the ceiling.
Lupin held out his hand and shook Harry's. 'How are you?' he asked, looking cl
osely at Harry. T-fine…'
Harry could hardly believe this was real. Four weeks with nothing, not the tin
iest hint of a plan to remove him from Privet Drive, and suddenly a whole bunc
h of wizards was standing matter-of-factly in the house as though this was a l
ong-standing arrangement. He glanced at the people surrounding Lupin; they wer
e still gazing avidly at him. He felt very conscious of the fact that he had n
ot combed his hair for four days.
'I'm - you're really lucky the Dursleys are out…' he mumbled.
'Lucky, ha!' said the violet-haired woman. 'It was me who lured them out of th
e way. Sent a letter by Muggle post telling them they'd been short-listed for
the All-England Best Kept Suburban Lawn Competition. They're heading off to th
e prize-giving right now… or they think they are.'
Harry had a fleeting vision of Uncle Vernon's face when he realised there was
no All-England Best Kept Suburban Lawn Competition.
'We are leaving, aren't we?' he asked. 'Soon?'
Almost at once,' said Lupin, 'we're just waiting for the all-clear.'
'Where are we going? The Burrow?' Harry asked hopefully.
'Not The Burrow, no,' said Lupin, motioning Harry towards the kitchen; the lit
tle knot of wizards followed, all still eyeing Harry curiously. Too risky. We'
ve set up Headquarters somewhere un-detectable. It's taken a while…'
Mad-Eye Moody was now sitting at the kitchen table swigging from a hip flask,
his magical eye spinning in all directions, taking in the Dursleys' many labou
r-saving appliances.
'This is Alastor Moody, Harry' Lupin continued, pointing towards Moody.
'Yeah, I know,' said Harry uncomfortably. It felt odd to be intro-duced to som
ebody he'd thought he'd known for a year.
'And this is Nymphadora -'
'Don't call me Nymphadora, Remus,' said the young witch with a shudder, 'it's
Tonks.'
'Nymphadora Tonks, who prefers to be known by her surname only,' finished Lupi
n.
'So would you if your fool of a mother had called you Nymphadora,' muttered To
nks.
'And this is Kingsley Shacklebolt.' He indicated the tall black wizard, who bo
wed. 'Elphias Doge.' The wheezy-voiced wizard nodded. 'Dedalus Diggle -'
'We've met before,' squeaked the excitable Diggle, dropping his violet-coloure
d top hat.
'Emmeline Vance.' A stately-looking witch in an emerald green shawl inclined h
er head. 'Sturgis Podmore.' A square-jawed wizard with thick straw-coloured ha
ir winked. 'And Hestia Jones.' A pink-cheeked, black-haired witch waved from n
ext to the toaster.
Harry inclined his head awkwardly at each of them as they were introduced. He
wished they would look at something other than him; it was as though he had su
ddenly been ushered on-stage. He also wondered why so many of them were there.
'A surprising number of people volunteered to come and get you,' said Lupin, a
s though he had read Harry's mind; the corners of his mouth twitched slightly.
'Yeah, well, the more the better,' said Moody darkly. 'We're your guard, Potte
r.'
'We're just waiting for the signal to tell us it's safe to set off,' said Lupi
n, glancing out of the kitchen window. 'We've got about fifteen minutes.'
'Very clean, aren't they, these Muggles?' said the witch called Tonks, who was
looking around the kitchen with great interest. 'My dad's Muggle-born and he'
s a right old slob. I suppose it varies, just as it does with wizards?'
'Er - yeah,' said Harry. 'Look -' he turned back to Lupin, 'what's going on, I
haven't heard anything from anyone, what's Vol—?'
Several of the witches and wizards made odd hissing noises; Dedalus Diggle dro
pped his hat again and Moody growled, 'Shut up!'
What?' said Harry.
'We're not discussing anything here, it's too risky,' said Moody, turning his
normal eye on Harry. His magical eye remained focused on the ceiling. 'Damn it
,' he added angrily, putting a hand up to the magical eye, 'it keeps getting s
tuck - ever since that scum wore it.'
And with a nasty squelching sound much like a plunger being pulled from a sink
, he popped out his eye.
'Mad-Eye, you do know that's disgusting, don't you?' said Tonks conversational
ly.
'Get me a glass of water, would you, Harry,' requested Moody.
Harry crossed to the dishwasher, took out a clean glass and filled it with wat
er at the sink, still watched eagerly by the band of wizards. Their relentless
staring was starting to annoy him.
'Cheers,' said Moody, when Harry handed him the glass. He dropped the magical
eyeball into the water and prodded it up and down; the eye whizzed around, sta
ring at them all in turn. 'I want three hundred and sixty degrees visibility o
n the return journey.'
'How're we getting - wherever we're going?' Harry asked.
'Brooms,' said Lupin. 'Only way. You're too young to Apparate, they'll be watc
hing the Floo Network and it's more than our life's worth to set up an unautho
rised Portkey.'
'Remus says you're a good flier,' said Kingsley Shacklebolt in his deep voice.
'He's excellent,' said Lupin, who was checking his watch. 'Anyway, you'd bette
r go and get packed, Harry, we want to be ready to go when the signal comes.'
'I'll come and help you,' said Tonks brightly.
She followed Harry back into the hall and up the stairs, looking around with m
uch curiosity and interest.
'Funny place,' she said. 'It's a bit too clean, d'you know what 1 mean? Bit un
natural. Oh, this is better,' she added, as they entered Harry's bedroom and h
e turned on the light.
His room was certainly much messier than the rest of the house. Confined to it
for four days in a very bad mood, Harry had not bothered tidying up after him
self. Most of the books he owned were strewn over the floor where he'd tried t
o distract himself with each in turn and thrown it aside; Hedwig's cage needed
cleaning out and was starting to smell; and his trunk lay open, revealing a j
umbled mixture of Muggle clothes and wizards' robes that had spilled on to the
floor around it.
Harry started picking up books and throwing them hastily into his trunk. Tonks
paused at his open wardrobe to look critically at her reflection in the mirro
r on the inside of the door.
'You know, I don't think violet's really my colour,' she said pen-sivey, tuggi
ng at a lock of spiky hair. 'D'you think it makes me look a bit peaky?'
'Er -' said Harry, looking up at her over the top of Quidditch Teams of Britai
n and Ireland.
'Yeah, it does,' said Tonks decisively. She screwed up her eyes in a strained
expression as though she was struggling to remember something. A second later,
her hair had turned bubble-gum pink.
'How did you do that?' said Harry, gaping at her as she opened her eyes again.
'I'm a Metamorphmagus,' she said, looking back at her reflec-tion and turning
her head so that she could see her hair from all directions. 'It means I can c
hange my appearance at will,' she added, spotting Harrys puzzled expression in
the mirror behind her. 'I was born one. I got top marks in Concealment and Di
sguise during Auror training without any study at all, it was great.'
'You're an Auror?' said Harry, impressed. Being a Dark-wizard-catcher was the
only career he'd ever considered after Hogwarts.
'Yeah,' said Tonks, looking proud. 'Kingsley is as well, he's a bit higher up
than me, though. I only qualified a year ago. Nearly failed on Stealth and Tra
cking. I'm dead clumsy, did you hear me break that plate when we arrived downs
tairs?'
'Can you learn how to be a Metamorphmagus?' Harry asked her, straightening up,
completely forgetting about packing.
Tonks chuckled.
'Bet you wouldn't mind hiding that scar sometimes, eh?'
Her eyes found the lightning-shaped scar on Harrys forehead.
'No, I wouldn't mind,' Harry mumbled, turning away. He did not like people sta
ring at his scar.
'Well, you'll have to learn the hard way, I'm afraid,' said Tonks. 'Metamorphm
agi are really rare, they're born, not made. Most wizards need to use a wand,
or potions, to change their appearance. But we've got to get going, Harry, we'
re supposed to be packing,' she added guiltily, looking around at all the mess
on the floor.
'Oh — yeah,' said Harry, grabbing a few more books.
'Don't be stupid, it'll be much quicker if I - pack!' cried Tonks, waving her
wand in a long, sweeping movement over the floor.
Books, clothes, telescope and scales all soared into the air and flew pell-mel
l into the trunk.
'It's not very neat,' said Tonks, walking over to the trunk and looking down a
t the jumble inside. 'My mums got this knack of getting stuff to fit itself in
neatly - she even gets the socks to fold themselves - but I've never mastered
how she does it - it's a kind of flick -' She flicked her wand hopefully.
One of Harry's socks gave a feeble sort of wiggle and flopped back on top of t
he mess in the trunk.
'Ah, well,' said Tonks, slamming the trunk's lid shut, 'at least it's all in.
That could do with a bit of cleaning, too.' She pointed her wand at Hedwig's c
age. 'Scourgify.' A few feathers and droppings vanished. 'Well, that's a bit b
etter - I've never quite got the hang of these householdy sort of spells. Righ
t - got everything? Cauldron? Broom? Wow! - A FireboltT
Her eyes widened as they fell on the broomstick in Harry's right hand It was h
is pride and joy, a gift from Sirius, an international-standard broomstick.
'And I'm still riding a Comet Two Sixty' said Tonks enviously. 'Ah well… wand
still in your jeans? Both buttocks still on? OK, let's go. Locomotor trunk.'
Harry's trunk rose a few inches into the air. Holding her wand like a conducto
r's baton, Tonks made the trunk hover across the room and out of the door ahea
d of them, Hedwig's cage in her left hand. Harry followed her down the stairs
carrying his broomstick.
Back in the kitchen Moody had replaced his eye, which was spinning so fast aft
er its cleaning it made Harry feel sick to look at it. Kingsley Shacklebolt an
d Sturgis Podmore were examining the microwave and Hestia Jones was laughing a
t a potato peeler she had come across while rummaging in the drawers. Lupin wa
s sealing a letter addressed to the Dursleys.
'Excellent,' said Lupin, looking up as Tonks and Harry entered. We've got abou
t a minute, I think. We should probably get out into the garden so we're ready
. Harry, I've left a letter telling your aunt and uncle not to worry -
They won't,' said Harry.
- that you're safe -'That'll just depress them.'
- and you'll see them next summer.'
'Do I have to?'
Lupin smiled but made no answer.
'Come here, boy,' said Moody gruffly, beckoning Harry towards him with his wan
d. 'I need to Disillusion you.'
'You need to what?' said Harry nervously.
'Disillusionment Charm,' said Moody, raising his wand. 'Lupin says you've got
an Invisibility Cloak, but it won't stay on while we're flying; this'll disgui
se you better. Here you go -
He rapped him hard on the top of the head and Harry felt a curious sensation a
s though Moody had just smashed an egg there;
cold trickles seemed to be running down his body from the point the wand had s
truck.
'Nice one, Mad-Eye,' said Tonks appreciatively, staring at Harry's midriff.
Harry looked down at his body, or rather, what had been his body, for it didn'
t look anything like his any more. It was not invisible; it had simply taken o
n the exact colour and texture of the kitchen unit behind him. He seemed to ha
ve become a human chameleon.
'Come on,' said Moody, unlocking the back door with his wand.
They all stepped outside on to Uncle Vernon's beautifully kept lawn.
'Clear night,' grunted Moody, his magical eye scanning the heavens. 'Could've
done with a bit more cloud cover. Right, you,' he barked at Harry, 'we're goin
g to be flying in close formation. Tonks'll be right in front of you, keep clo
se on her tail. Lupin'll be covering you from below I'm going to be behind you
. The rest'll be circling us. We don't break ranks for anything, got me? If on
e of us is killed -
'Is that likely?' Harry asked apprehensively, but Moody ignored him.
- the others keep flying, don't stop, don't break ranks. If they take out all
of us and you survive, Harry, the rear guard are standing by to take over; kee
p flying east and they'll join you.'
'Stop being so cheerful, Mad-Eye, he'll think we're not taking this seriously'
said Tonks, as she strapped Harry's trunk and Hedwig's cage into a harness ha
nging from her broom.
'I'm just telling the boy the plan,' growled Moody. 'Our jobs to deliver him s
afely to Headquarters and if we die in the attempt -
'No one's going to die,' said Kingsley Shacklebolt in his deep, calming voice.
'Mount your brooms, that's the first signal!' said Lupin sharply pointing into
the sky.
Far, far above them, a shower of bright red sparks had flared among the stars,
Harry recognised them at once as wand sparks. He swung his right leg over his
Firebolt, gripped its handle tightly and felt it vibrating very slightly, as
though it was as keen as he was to be up in the air once more.
'Second signal, let's go!' said Lupin loudly as more sparks, green this time,
exploded high above them.
Harry kicked off hard from the ground. The cool night air rushed through his h
air as the neat square gardens of Privet Drive fell away, shrinking rapidly in
to a patchwork of dark greens and blacks, and every thought of the Ministry he
aring was swept from his mind as though the rush of air had blown it out of hi
s head. He felt as though his heart was going to explode with pleasure; he was
flying again, flying away from Privet Drive as he'd been fantasising about al
l summer, he was going home… for a few glorious moments, all his problems see
med to recede to nothing, insignificant in the vast, starry sky.
'Hard left, hard left, there's a Muggle looking up!' shouted Moody from behind
him. Tonks swerved and Harry followed her, watching his trunk swinging wildly
beneath her broom. 'We need more height… give it another quarter of a mile!'
Harry's eyes watered in the chill as they soared upwards; he could see nothing
below now but tiny pinpricks of light that were car headlights and streetlamp
s. Two of those tiny lights might belong to Uncle Vernon's car… the Dursleys
would be heading back to their empty house right now, full of rage about the n
on-existent Lawn Competition… and Harry laughed aloud at the thought, though
his voice was drowned by the flapping robes of the others, the creaking of the
harness holding his trunk and the cage, and the whoosh of the wind in their e
ars as they sped through the air. He had not felt this alive in a month, or th
is happy.
'Bearing south!' shouted Mad-Eye. Town ahead!'
They soared right to avoid passing directly over the glittering spider's web o
f lights below.
'Bear southeast and keep climbing, there's some low cloud ahead we can lose ou
rselves in!' called Moody.
'We're not going through clouds!' shouted Tonks angrily, 'we'll get soaked, Ma
d-Eye!'
Harry was relieved to hear her say this; his hands were growing numb on the Fi
rebolt's handle. He wished he had thought to put on a coat; he was starting to
shiver.
They altered their course every now and then according to Mad-Eyes instruction
s. Harrys eyes were screwed up against the rush of icy wind that was starting
to make his ears ache; he could remember being this cold on a broom only once
before, during the Quidditch match against Hufflepuff in his third year, which
had taken place in a storm. The guard around him was circling continuously li
ke giant birds of prey. Harry lost track of time. He wondered how long they ha
d been flying, it felt like an hour at least.
Turning southwest!' yelled Moody 'We want to avoid the motorway!'
Harry was now so chilled he thought longingly of the snug, dry interiors of th
e cars streaming along below, then, even more longingly, of travelling by Floo
powder; it might be uncomfortable to spin around in fireplaces but it was at
least warm in the flames… Kingsley Shacklebolt swooped around him, bald pate
and earring gleaming slightly in the moonlight… now Emmeline Vance was on his
right, her wand out, her head turning left and right… then she, too, swooped
over him, to be replaced by Sturgis Podmore…
'We ought to double back for a bit, just to make sure we're not being followed
!' Moody shouted.
'ARE YOU MAD, MAD-EYE?' Tonks screamed from the front. We're all frozen to our
brooms! If we keep going off-course we're not going to get there until next w
eek! Besides, we're nearly there now!'
Time to start the descent!' came Lupin's voice. 'Follow Tonks, Harry!'
Harry followed Tonks into a dive. They were heading for the largest collection
of lights he had yet seen, a huge, sprawling crisscrossing mass, glittering i
n lines and grids, interspersed with patches of deepest black. Lower and lower
they flew, until Harry could see individual headlights and streetlamps, chimn
eys and television aerials. He wanted to reach the ground very much, though he
felt sure someone would have to unfreeze him from his broom.
'Here we go!' called Tonks, and a few seconds later she had landed.
Harry touched down right behind her and dismounted on a patch of unkempt grass
in the middle of a small square. Tonks was already unbuckling Harry's trunk.
Shivering, Harry looked around. The grimy fronts of the surrounding houses wer
e not welcoming; some of them had broken windows, glimmering dully in the ligh
t fro the streetlamps, paint was peeling from many of the doors and heaps of r
ubbish lay outside several sets of front steps.
'Where are we?' Harry asked, but Lupin said quietly, 'In a minute.'
Moody was rummaging in his cloak, his gnarled hands clumsy with cold.
'Got it,' he muttered, raising what looked like a silver cigarette lighter int
o the air and clicking it.
The nearest streetlamp went out with a pop. He clicked the unlighter again; th
e next lamp went out; he kept clicking until every lamp in the square was exti
nguished and the only remaining light came from curtained windows and the sick
le moon overhead. 'Borrowed it from Dumbledore,' growled Moody, pocketing the
Put-Outer. That'll take care of any Muggles looking out of the window, see? No
w come on, quick.'
He took Harry by the arm and led him from the patch of grass, across the road
and on to the pavement; Lupin and Tonks followed, carrying Harry's trunk betwe
en them, the rest of the guard, all with their wands out, flanking them.
The muffled pounding of a stereo was coming from an upper window in the neares
t house. A pungent smell of rotting rubbish came from the pile of bulging bin-
bags just inside the broken gate.
'Here,' Moody muttered, thrusting a piece of parchment towards Harry's Disillu
sioned hand and holding his lit wand close to it, so as to illuminate the writ
ing. 'Read quickly and memorise.'
Harry looked down at the piece of paper. The narrow handwriting was vaguely fa
miliar. It said:
The Headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix may be found at number twelve, Gr
immauld Place, London.
--
签名档??是写名字的地方吗?那,不就是在上面吗?:)
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