"Ready, Duddy?" asked Petunia, fussily checking the clasp of her handbag so as to avoid loo k
ing at Harry altogether.
Dudley did not answer but stood there with his mouth slightly ajar, reminding Harry a little of the g i ant, Grawp.

"Come along, then," said Uncle Vernon.
He had already reached the living room door when Dudley mumbled, "I don't unde r stand."
"What don't you understand, popkin?" asked P e tunia looking up at her son.
Dudley raised a large, hamlike hand to point at Harry.
"Why isn't he coming with us?
Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia froze when they stood staring at Dudley as though he had just e x
pressed a desire to become a ball e rina.
"What?" said Uncle Vernon loudly.
"Why isn't he coming too?" asked Du d ley.
"Well, heЧ doesn't want to," said Uncle Vernon, turning to glare at Harry and ad d
ing, "You don't want to, do you?"
"Not in the slightest," said Harry.
"There you are," Uncle Vernon told Dudley. "Now come on we're off."
He marched out of the room. They heard the front door open, but Dudley did not move and after a few faltering steps Aunt P e
tunia stopped too.
"What now?" barked Uncle Vernon, reappearing in the doorway.
It seemed that Dudley was struggling with co n
cepts too difficult to put into words. After several moments of apparently painful i n
ternal struggle he said, "But where's he g o ing to go?"
Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon looked at each other. It was clear that Dudley was frightening them. Hestia Jones broke the s i
lence.
"But… surely you know where your nephew is going?" she asked looking bewi l dered.
"Certainly we know," said Vernon Dursley. "He's off with some of your lot, isn't he? Right, Du d
ley, let's get in the car, you heard the man, we're in a hurry.
Again, Vernon Dursley marched as far as the front door, but Dudley did not follow.
"Off with some of our lot?"
Hestia looked outraged. Harry had met this att i
tude before Witches and wizards seemed stunned that his closed living relatives took so little interest in the famous Harry Po t
ter.
"It's fine," Harry assured her. "It doesn't matter, honestly."
"Doesn't matter?" repeated Hestia, her voice ri s ing considerably.
"Don't these people realize what you've been through? What danger you are in? The unique pos i
tion you hold in the hearts of the anti Voldemort movement?"
"Er Ц no, they don't," said Harry. "They think I'm a waste of space, actually but I'm used to Ц "
"I don't think you're a waste of space"
If Harry had not seen Dudley's lips move, he might not have
believed it. As it was, he stared at Dudley for several seconds before accepting that it must have been his cousin who had spoken; for one thing, Dudley had turned red. Harry was embarrassed and astonished himself.
"Well... er… thanks, Dudley."
Again, Dudley appeared to grapple with thoughts too unwieldy for expression before mu m bling, "You saved my life,"

"Not really," said Harry. "It was your soul the dementor would have taken…"
He looked curiously at his cousin. They had had virtually no contact during
this summer or last, as Harry had come back to Privet Drive so briefly and kept to his room so much. It now dawned on Harry, however, that the cup of cold tea on which he had trodden that morning might not have been a booby trap at all. Although rather to
uched he was neverth e less quite relieved that Dudley appeared to have e
x hausted his ability to express his feelings. After ope
n ing his mouth once or twice more, Dudley subsided into scarlet-faced silence.
Aunt Petunia burst into tears. Hestia Jones gave her an approving look that changed to outrage as Aunt Petunia ran forward and e m
braced Dudley rather than Harry. "S-so sweet, Dudders…" she sobbed into his massive chest. "S-such a lovely b-boy… s-saying thank you…"
"But he hasn't said thank you at all!" said Hestia indignantly. "He only said he di d
n't think Harry was a waste of space!"
"Yea but coming from Dudley that's like 'I love you,'" said Harry, torn between annoyance and a d e
sire to laugh as Aunt Petunia co n tinued to clutch at Dudley as if he had just saved Harry from a burning building.

"Are we going or not?" roared Uncle Vernon, r e
appearing yet again at the living room door. "I thought we were on a tight sche d ule!"
"Yes Ц yes, we are," said Dedalus Diggle, who had been watching these exchanged with an air of bemusement and now seemed to pull himself together. "We really must be off. Harry Ц "
He tripped forward and wrung Harry's hand with both of his own.
"Ч good luck. I hope we meet again. The hopes of the Wizarding world rest upon your shou l ders."
"Oh," said Harry, "right. Thanks."
"Farwell, Harry," said Hestia also clasping his hand. "Our thoughts go with you."
"I hope everything's okay," said Harry with a glance toward Aunt Petunia and Du d
ley.
"Oh I'm sure we shall end up the best of chums," said Diggle slightly, waving his hat as he left the room. Hestia followed him.
Dudley gently released himself from his mother's clutches and walked toward Harry who had to repress an urge to threaten him with magic. Then Dudley held out his large, pink hand.
"Blimey, Dudley," said Harry over Aunt Pet u nia's renewed sobs, "did the dementors blow a diffe
r ent personality into you?"
"Dunno," muttered Dudley, "See you, Harry."
"Yea …" said Harry, raking Dudley's hand and shaking it. "Maybe. Take care, Big D."
Dudley nearly smiled. They lumbered from the room. Harry heard his heavy footfalls on the gra v
eled drive, and then a car door slammed.
Aunt Petunia whose face had been buried in her handkerchief looked around at the sound. She did not seem to have expected to find herself alone with Harry. Hastily stowing her wet han d
kerchief into her pocket, she said, "Well Ц good-bye" and marched t o
wards the door without loo k ing at him.
"Good-bye" said Harry.
She stopped and looked back. For a moment Harry had the strangest feeling th
at she wanted to say something to him; She gave him an odd, tremulous look and seemed to teeter on the edge of speech, but then, with a little of her head, she hustled out of the room after he hu
s band and son.

Chapter Four The Seven Po
t ters

Harry ran back upstairs to his bedroom, arriving at the window just in time to see the Dursleys' car swinging out of the drive and off up the road. Ded a
lusТ s top hat was visible b e
tween Aunt Petunia and Dudley in the backseat. The car turned right at the end of Privet Drive, its windows burned scarlet for a m o
ment in the now setting sun, and then it was gone.
Harry picked up HedwigТ s cage, his Firebolt, and his rucksack, gave his unnat u
rally tidy bedroom one last sweeping look, and then made his ungainly way back dow n sta
irs to the hall, where he deposited cage, broomstick, and bag near the foot of the stairs. The light was fa d
ing rapidly, the hall full of shadows in the ev e
ning light. It felt most strange to stand here in the silence and know that he was about to leave the house for the last time. Long ago, when he had been left alone while the Dursleys went out to enjoy the
m selves, the hours of solitude had been a rare treat. Pausing only to sneak som
e thing tasty from the fridge, he had rushed upstairs to play on DudleyТ s
computer, or put on the television and flicked through the channels to his heartТ s content. It gave him an odd, empty feeling remembering those times; it was like remembering a younger brother whom he had lost.
“DonТ t you want to take a last look at the place?”
he asked Hedwig, who was still sulking with her head under her wing. “WeТ ll never be here again. DonТ t you want to remember all the good times? I mean, look at this doormat. What memories … Du
d ley sobbed on it after I saved him from the d e
mentors … Turns out he was grateful after all, can you believe it? … And last summer, Dumbledore walked through that front door … “
Harry lost the thread of his thoughts for a moment and Hedwig did nothing to help him retrieve it, but continued to sit with her head under her wing. Harry turned his back on the front door.
“And under here, Hedwig” Ц Harry pulled open a door under the stairs Ц “is where I used to sleep! You never knew me then Ц Bl i
mey, itТ s small, IТ d forgotten … “
Harry looked around at the stacked shoes and umbrellas remembering how he used to wake every morning looking up at the unde r
side of the staircase, which was more often than not adorned with a spider or two. Those had been the days before he had known anything about his true identity; before h
e had found out how his parents had died or why such strange things often happened around him. But Harry could still remember the dreams that had do g
ged him, even in those days: confused dreams involving flashes of green light and once Ц U n
cle Vernon had nearly crashed the car when Harry had r e
counted it Ц a flying motorbike …
There was a sudden, deafening roar from som e
where nearby. Harry straightened up with a jerk and smacked the top of his head on the low door frame. Pausing only to e m
ploy a few of Uncle VernonТ s choicest swear words, he sta g
gered back into the kitchen, clutching his head and staring out of the wi n
dow into the back ga r den.
The darkness seemed to be rippling, the air i t self quivering. Then, one by one, fi
g ures began to pop into sight as their Disillusionment Charms lifted. Domina
t ing the scene was Hagrid, wearing a helmet and go
g gles and sitting astride an enormous moto r
bike with a black sidecar attached. All around him other people were dismounting from brooms and, in two cases, skeletal, black winged horses.
Wrenching open the back door, Harry hurtled into their midst. There was a general cry of greeting as Hermione flung her arms around him, Ron clapped him on the back, and Hagrid said, “All righТ , Harry? Ready fer the off?”
“Definitely,” said Harry, beaming around at them all. “But I wasnТ t expecting this many of you!”
“Change of plan,” growled Mad-Eye, who was holding two enormous bulging sacks, and whose magical eye was spinning from dar k
ening sky to house to garden with dizzying rapidity. “LetТ s get u n
dercover b e fore we talk you through it.”

Harry led them all back into the kitchen where, laughing and chattering, they settled on chairs, sat themselves upon Aunt PetuniaТ s gleaming work su r
faces, or leaned up against her spo t
less appliances; Ron, long and lanky; Hermione, her bushy hair tied back in a long plait; Fred and George, grinning ident i
cally; Bill, badly scarred and longhaired; Mr. Weasley, kind-faced, balding, his spect a
cles a little awry; Mad-Eye, battle-worn, one-legged, his bright blue magical eye whizzing in its socket; Tonks, whose short hair was her favorite shade of bright pink; L
u pin, grayer, more lined; Fleur, slender and beautiful, with her long si
l very blonde hair; Kingsley, bald and broad-shouldered; Hagrid, with his
wild hair and beard, standing hunchbacked to avoid hitting his head on the ceiling; and Mundungus Fletcher, small, dirty, and han g
dog, with his droopy beady houndТ s eyes and matted hair. HarryТ s heart seemed to expand and glow at the sight: He
felt incredibly fond of all of them, even Mundungus, whom he had tried to stra
n gle the last time they had met.
“Kingsley, I thought you were looking after the Muggle Prime Minister?” he called across the room.
“He can get along without me for one night,” said Kingsley, “YouТ re more impo r tant.”
“Harry, guess what?” said Tonks from her perch on top of the washing machine, and she wiggled her left hand at him; a ring gli s
tened there.
“You got married?” Harry yelped, looking from her to Lupin.
“IТ m sorry you couldnТ t be there, Harry, it was very quiet.”
“ThatТ s brilliant, congrat Ц “
“All right, all right, weТ ll have time for a cozy catch-up later,” roared Moody over the hubbub, and silence fell in the kitchen. Moody dropped his sacks at his feet and turned to Harry. “As De
dalus probably told you, we had to abandon Plan A. Pius Thic k nesse has gone over, which gives us a big problem. He
Т s made it an imprisonable o f fense to connect this house to the Floo Network, place a Portkey here, or App
a rate in or out. All done in the name of your protection, to prevent You-Know-Who getting in at you. Abs
o lutely pointless, seeing as your motherТ s charm does that already. What heТ
s really done is to stop you ge t ting out of here safely.”
“Second problem: YouТ re underage, which means youТ ve still got the Trace on you.”
“I donТ t Ц “
“The Trace, the Trace!” said Mad-Eye imp a tiently. “
The charm that detects magical activity around under-seventeens, the way the Ministry finds out about underage magic! If you, or anyone around you, casts a spell to get you out of here, Thicknesse is going to know about it, and so will the Death Eaters.
”
“We canТ t wait for the Trace to break, because the moment you turn seventeen youТ ll lose all the pr o
tection your mother gave you. In short, Pius Thic k
nesse thinks heТ s got you co r
nered good and proper.”
Harry could not help but agree with the u n known Thicknesse.
“So what are we going to do?”
“WeТ re going to use the only means of transport left to us, the only ones the Trace canТ t detect, b e
cause we donТ t need to cast spells to use them: brooms, thestrals, and HagridТ s m o
torbike.”
Harry could see flaws in this plan; however, he held his tongue to give Mad-Eye the chance to a d dress them.
“Now, your motherТ s charm will only break u n der two conditions: when you come of age, or” Ц
Moody gestured around the pri s tine kitchen Ц “
you no longer call this place home. You and your aunt and uncle are going your separate ways tonight, in the full understanding that youТ re never going to live t o
gether again, correct?”
Harry nodded.
“So this time, when you leave, thereТ ll be no g o
ing back, and the charm will break the moment you get outside its range. WeТ re choo s
ing to break it early, because the altern a
tive is waiting for You-Know-Who to come and seize you the moment you turn seve n teen.
“The one thing weТ ve got on our side is that You-Know-Who doesnТ t know weТ re moving you t
o night. WeТ ve leaked a fake trail to the Ministry: They think youТ re not leaving until the thirt
i eth. However, this is You-Know-Who weТ re dealing with, so we canТ t rely on him ge
t ting the date wrong; heТ s bound to have a couple of Death Eaters patrolling the skies in this ge
n eral area, just in case. So, weТ
ve given a dozen different houses every protection we can throw at them. They all look like they could be the place weТ re going to hide you, theyТ ve all got some conne c
tion with the O r der: my house, KingsleyТ
s place, MollyТ s Auntie MurielТ s Ц you get the idea.”
“Yeah,” said Harry, not entirely truthfully, b e cause he could still spot a gaping hole in the plan.
“YouТ ll be going to TonksТ s parents. Once youТ re within the boundaries of the protective e n
chantments weТ ve put on their house youТ ll be able to use a Por t key to the Burrow. Any que
s tions?”
“Er Ц yes,” said Harry. “Maybe they wonТ t know which of the twelve secure houses IТ m heading for at first, but wonТ t it be sort of obvious once” Ц he pe
r formed a quick headcount Ц “fou r
teen of us fly off toward TonksТ s parents?”
“Ah,” said Moody, “I forgot to mention the key point. Fourteen of us wonТ t be flying to TonksТ s pa r
ents. There will be seven Harry Po t
ters moving through the skies tonight, each of them with a co m panion, each pair heading for a different safe house.
”
From inside his cloak Moody now wit h drew a flask of what looked like mud. There was no need for him to sa
y another word; Harry understood the rest of the plan immediately.
“No!” he said loudly, his voice ringing through the kitchen. “No way!”
“I told them youТ d take it like this,” said Hermione with a hint of complacency.
“If you think IТ m going to let six people risk their lives -- !”
“Ч because itТ s the first time for all of us,” said Ron.
“This is different, pretending to be me Ц “
“Well, none of us really fancy it, Harry,” said Fred earnestly. “Imagine if som e
thing went wrong and we were stuck as specky, scrawny gits forever.”
Harry did not smile.
“You canТ t do it if I donТ t cooperate, you need me to give you some hair.”
“Well, thatТ s the plan scuppered,” said George. “Obviously thereТ s no chance at all of us getting a bit of your hair unless you coope r
ate.”
“Yeah, thirteen of us against one bloke whoТ s not allowed to use magic; weТ ve got no chance,” said Fred.
“Funny,” said Harry, “really amu s ing.”
“If it has to come to force, then it will,” growled Moody, his magical eye now quivering a li t
tle in its socket as he glared at Harry. “Everyone hereТ s ove r age, Potter, and theyТ
re all prepared to take the risk.”
Mundungus shrugged and grimaced; the mag i cal eye swerved sideways to glance at him out of the side of MoodyТ
s head.
“LetТ s have no more arguments. TimeТ s wea r ing on. I want a few of your hairs, boy, now.”
“But this is mad, thereТ s no need Ц “
“No need!” snarled Moody. “With You-Know-Who out there and half the Ministry on his side? Po t ter, if we
Т re lucky heТ ll have swa l lowed the fake bait and heТ ll
be planning to ambush you on the thi r
tieth, but heТ d be mad not to have a Death Eater or two keeping an eye out, itТ s what IТ d do. They might not be able to get at you or this house while your mother
Т s charm holds, but itТ s about to break and they know the rough pos i
tion of the place. Our only chance is to use decoys. Even You-Know-Who canТ t split himself into seven.”
Harry caught HermioneТ s eye and looked away at once.
“So, Potter Ц some of your hair, if you please.”
Harry glanced at Ron, who grimaced at him in a just-do-it sort of way.
“Now!” barked Moody.
With all of their eyes upon him, Harry reached up to the top of his head, grabbed a hank of hair, and pulled.
“Good,” said Moody, limping forward as he pulled the stopper out of the flask of p o tion. “Straight in he
re, if you please.”
Harry dropped the hair into the mudlike liquid. The moment it made contact with its surface, the p o
tion began to froth and smoke, then, all at once, it turned a clear, bright gold.
“Ooh, you look much tastier than Crabbe and Goyle, Harry,” said Hermione, before catching sight of RonТ s raised eyebrows, blushing slightly, and sa y
ing, “Oh, you know what I mean Ц GoyleТ s potion tasted like bogies.”
“Right then, fake Potters line up over here, please,” said Moody.
Ron, Hermione, Fred, George, and Fleur lined up in front of Aunt PetuniaТ s gleaming sink.
“WeТ re one short,” said Lupin.
“Here,” said Hagrid gruffly, and he lifted Mundungus by the scruff of the neck and dropped him down beside Fleur, who wrinkled her nose pointedly and moved along to stand between Fred and George instead.
“IТ m a soldier, IТ d sooner be a protector,” said Mundungus.
“Shut it,” growled Moody. “As IТ ve already told you, you spineless worm, any Death Eaters we run into will be aiming to capture Potter, not kill him. Dumbledore a l
ways said You-Know-Who would want to finish Potter in pe r
son. ItТ ll be the protectors who have got the most to worry about, the Death Ea t
ersТ ll want to kill them.”
Mundungus did not look particularly reassured, but Moody was already pulling half a dozen eggcup-sized glasses from inside his cloak, which he handed out, before pouring a little Polyjuice Potion into each one.
“Altogether, then … “
Ron, Hermione, Fred, George, Fleur, and Mundungus drank. All of them gasped and gri m aced as the potion hit
their throats; At once, their features began to bubble and distort like hot wax. Hermione and Mundungus were shoo t
ing upward; Ron, Fred, and George were shrinking; their hair was darke n ing, HermioneТ s and FleurТ
s appearing to shoot backward into their skulls.
Moody, quite unconcerned, was now loosening the ties of the large sacks he had brought with him. When he straightened up again, there were six Harry Potters gasping and panting in front of him.
Fred and George turned to each other and said t o gether, “Wow Ц weТ re identical!”
“I dunno, though, I think IТ m still be t ter-looking,” said Fred, examining his refle
c tion in the kettle.
“Bah,” said Fleur, checking herself in the m
i crowave door, “Bill, donТ t look at me Ц IТ m С ideous.”
“Those whose clothes are a bit roomy, IТ ve got smaller here,” said Moody, indicating the first sack, “and vice versa. DonТ t forget the glasses, thereТ s six pairs in the side pocket. And when youТ re dressed, there
Т s luggage in the other sack.”
The real Harry thought that this might jus
t be the most bizarre thing he had ever seen, and he had seen some extremely odd things. He watched as his six doppelgangers rummaged in the sacks, pulling out sets of clothes, putting on glasses, stuffing their own things away. He felt like asking them t
o show a little more respect for privacy as they all began stripping off with impunity, clearly more at ease with displa y
ing his body than they would have been with their own.
“I knew Ginny was lying about that tattoo,” said Ron, looking down at his bare chest.
“Harry, your eyesight really is awful,” said Hermione, as she put on glasses.
Once dressed, the fake Harrys took ruc k
sacks and owl cages, each containing a stuffed snowy owl, from the second sack.
“Good,” said Moody, as at last seven dressed, b e spectacled, and luggage-laden Ha
r rys faced him. “The pairs will be as follows: Mundungus will be traveling with me, by broom Ц “
“WhyТ m I with you?” grunted the Harry nearest the back door.
“Because youТ re the one that needs watching,” growled Moody, and sure enough, his magical eye did not waver from Mundu n
gus as he continued, “Arthur and Fred Ц “
“IТ m George,” said the twin at whom Moody was pointing. “CanТ t you even tell us apart when weТ re Harry?”
“Sorry, George Ц “
“IТ m only yanking your wand, IТ m Fred really Ц “
“Enough messing around!” snarled Moody. “The other one Ц George or Fred or whoever you are Ц youТ re with Remus. Miss Delacour Ц “
“IТ m taking Fleur on a thestral,” said Bill. “SheТ s not that fond of brooms.”
Fleur walked over to stand beside him, giving him a soppy, slavish look that Harry hoped with all his heart would never appear on his face again.
“Miss Granger with Kingsley, again by the s tral Ц “
Hermione looked reassured as she answered KingsleyТ s smile; Harry knew that Hermione too lacked confidence on a broo m
stick.
“Which leaves you and me, Ron!” said Tonks brightly, knocking over a mug tree as she waved at him.
Ron did not look quite as pleased as Hermione.
“AnТ youТ re with me, Harry. That all righТ ?” said Hagrid, looking a little anxious. “WeТ ll be on the bike, brooms anТ thestrals canТ t take me weight, see. Not a lot oТ
room on the seat with me on it, though, so youТ ll be in the sidecar.”
“ThatТ s great,” said Harry, not altogether trut h fully.
“We think the Death Eaters will expect you to be on a broom,” said Moody, who seemed to guess how Harry was feeling. “SnapeТ s had plenty of time to tell them everything about you heТ s never mentioned b
e fore, so if we do run into any Death Eaters, weТ re be
t ting theyТ ll choose one of the Potters who looks at home on a broomstick. All right then,”
he went on, tying up the sack with the fake PottersТ clothes in it and leading the way back to the door,
“I make it three minutes until weТ re supposed to leave. No point loc k ing the back door, it wonТ
t keep the Death Eaters out when they come looking. Come on …”
Harry hurried to gather his rucksack, Firebolt, and HedwigТ s cage and followed the group to the dark back garden.
On every side broomsticks were leaping into hands; Hermione had already been helped up onto a great black thestral by Kingsley, Fleur onto the other by Bill. Hagrid was standing ready beside the moto
r bike, goggles on.
“Is this it? Is this SiriusТ s bike?”
“The very same,” said Hagrid, bea m ing down at Harry. “AnТ
the last time yeh was on it, Harry, I could fit yeh in one hand!”
Harry could not help but feel a little humil i ated as he got into the sidecar. It placed him several feet b
e
low everybody else: Ron smirked at the sight of him sitting there like a child in a bumper car. Harry stuffed his ruc k
sack and broomstick down by his feet and rammed HedwigТ s cage between his knees. He was e x
tremely uncomfortable.
“ArthurТ s done a bit oТ tinkerinТ ,” said Hagrid, quite oblivious to HarryТ s discomfort. He settled hi m
self astride the motorcycle, which creaked slightly and sank inches into the ground. “ItТ s got a few tricks up its sleeves now. ThaТ one was my idea.”
He pointed a thick finger at a purple button near the spee d ometer.
"Please be careful, Hagrid." said Mr. Weasley, who was standing beside them, holding his broo m
stick. "I'm still not sure that was advisable and it's ce r tainly only to be used in emergencies."
"All right, then." said Moody. "Everyone ready, please. I want us all to leave at e x
actly the same time or the whole point of the dive r sion's lost."
Everybody motioned their heads. "Hold tight now, Ron," said Tonks, and Harry saw Ron throw a forcing, guilty look at Lupin before placing his hands on each side of her waist. Hagrid kicked the moto
r bike into life: It roared like a dragon, and the sidecar began to vibrate.
“Good luck, everyone,” shouted Moody. “See you all in about an hour at the Burrow. On the count of three. One … two .. THREE.”
There was a great roar from the motorbike, and Harry felt the sidecar give a nasty lurch. He was rising through th
e air fast, his eyes watering slightly, hair whipped back off his face. Around him brooms were soaring upward too; the long black tail of a the s
tral flicked past. His legs, jammed into the sidecar by HedwigТ s cage and his rucksack, were a l
ready sore and starting to go numb. So great was his di s
comfort that he almost forgot to take a last glimpse of number four Privet Drive. By the time he looked over the edge of the sidecar he could no longer tell which one it was.
And then, out of nowhere, out of nothing, they were surrounded. At least thirty hooded figures, su s
pended in midair, formed a vast circle in the middle of which the Order members had risen, oblivious Ц
Screams, a blaze of green light on every side: Hagrid gave a yell and the moto r bike rolled over.
Harry lost any sense of where they were. Streetlights above him, yells around him, he was clinging to the sidecar for dear life. Hedwig's cage, the Firebolt, and his rucksack slipped from b
e neath his knees Ц
"No Ц HELP!"
The broomstick spun too, but he ju
st managed to seize the strap of his rucksack and the top of the cage as the motorbike swung the right way up again. A second's relief, and then another burst of green light. The owl screeched and fell to the floor of the cage.
"No Ц NO!"
The motorbike zoomed forward; Harry glimpsed hooded Death Eaters scattering as Hagrid blasted through their circle.
"Hedwig Ц Hedwig Ц "
But the owl lay motionless and pathetic as a toy on the floor of her cage. He could not take it in, and his terror for the others was par a

mount. He glanced over his shoulder and saw a mass of people moving, flares of green light, two pairs of people on brooms soaring off into the distance, but he could not tell who they were Ц
"Hagrid, we've got to go back, we've got to go back!" he yelled over the thunderous roar of the e n
gine, pulling out his wand, ra m
ming Hedwig's cage into the floor, refusing to believe that she was dead.
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