Harry ran back upstairs to his bedroom, arriving at the window just in time to see the Dursleysâ€™ car swinging out of the drive and off up the road. Dedalusâ€™s top hat was visible between Aunt Petunia and Dudley in the backseat. The car turned right at the end of Privet Drive, its windows burned scarlet for a moment in the now setting sun, and then it was gone..cartier love bracelet replica.
Harry picked up Hedwigâ€™s cage, his Firebolt, and his rucksack, gave his unnaturally tidy bedroom one last sweeping look, and then made his ungainly way back downstairs to the hall, where he deposited cage, broomstick, and bag near the foot of the stairs. The light was fading rapidly, the hall full of shadows in the evening 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 themselves, the hours of solitude had been a rare treat. Pausing only to sneak something tasty from the fridge, he had rushed upstairs to play on Dudleyâ€™s computer, or put on the television and flicked through the channels to his heartâ€™s content. It gave him an odd, empty feeling remembering those times; it was like remembering a younger brother whom he had lost..cheap christian louboutin replica.
â€œDonâ€™t you want to take a last look at the place?â€ he asked Hedwig, who was still sulking with her head under her wing. â€œWeâ€™ll never be here again. Donâ€™t you want to remember all the good times? I mean, look at this doormat. What memories â€¦ Dudley sobbed on it after I saved him from the dementors â€¦ Turns out he was grateful after all, can you believe it? â€¦ And last summer, Dumbledore walked through that front door â€¦â€.http://www.leadformance.co.uk/.
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Harry looked around at the stacked shoes and umbrellas remembering how he used to wake every morning looking up at the underside 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 he 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 dogged him, even in those days: confused dreams involving flashes of green light and once â€“ Uncle Vernon had nearly crashed the car when Harry had recounted it â€“ a flying motorbike â€¦.cartier love bracelet replica.
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The darkness seemed to be rippling, the air itself quivering. Then, one by one, figures began to pop into sight as their Disillusionment Charms lifted. Dominating the scene was Hagrid, wearing a helmet and goggles and sitting astride an enormous motorbike with a black sidecar attached. All around him other people were dismounting from brooms and, in two cases, skeletal, black winged horses..nike roshe run men.
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, â€œAll righâ€™, Harry? Ready fer the off?â€.http://www.vvon.co.uk.
â€œDefinitely,â€ said Harry, beaming around at them all. â€œBut I wasnâ€™t expecting this many of you!â€.hermes bracelet replica.
â€œChange of plan,â€ growled Mad-Eye, who was holding two enormous bulging sacks, and whose magical eye was spinning from darkening sky to house to garden with dizzying rapidity. â€œLetâ€™s get undercover before we talk you through it.â€.cartier love bracelet replica.
Harry led them all back into the kitchen where, laughing and chattering, they settled on chairs, sat themselves upon Aunt Petuniaâ€™s gleaming work surfaces, or leaned up against her spotless appliances; Ron, long and lanky; Hermione, her bushy hair tied back in a long plait; Fred and George, grinning identically; Bill, badly scarred and longhaired; Mr. Weasley, kind-faced, balding, his spectacles 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; Lupin, grayer, more lined; Fleur, slender and beautiful, with her long silvery 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 hangdog, with his droopy beady houndâ€™s eyes and matted hair. Harryâ€™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 strangle the last time they had met..Giuseppe Zanotti Replica.
â€œKingsley, I thought you were looking after the Muggle Prime Minister?â€ he called across the room..cartier love bracelet replica.
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â€œHarry, guess what?â€ said Tonks from her perch on top of the washing machine, and she wiggled her left hand at him; a ring glistened there..cartier love bracelet replica.
â€œYou got married?â€ Harry yelped, looking from her to Lupin.
â€œIâ€™m sorry you couldnâ€™t be there, Harry, it was very quiet.â€
â€œThatâ€™s brilliant, congrat â€“ â€
â€œAll right, all right, weâ€™ll have time for a cozy catch-up later,â€ roared Moody over the hubbub, and silence fell in the kitchen. Moody dropped his sacks at his feet and turned to Harry. â€œAs Dedalus probably told you, we had to abandon Plan A. Pius Thicknesse has gone over, which gives us a big problem. Heâ€™s made it an imprisonable offense to connect this house to the Floo Network, place a Portkey here, or Apparate in or out. All done in the name of your protection, to prevent You-Know-Who getting in at you. Absolutely pointless, seeing as your motherâ€™s charm does that already. What heâ€™s really done is to stop you getting out of here safely.â€
â€œSecond problem: Youâ€™re underage, which means youâ€™ve still got the Trace on you.â€
â€œI donâ€™t â€“ â€
â€œThe Trace, the Trace!â€ said Mad-Eye impatiently. â€œThe 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.â€
â€œWe canâ€™t wait for the Trace to break, because the moment you turn seventeen youâ€™ll lose all the protection your mother gave you. In short, Pius Thicknesse thinks heâ€™s got you cornered good and proper.â€
Harry could not help but agree with the unknown Thicknesse.
â€œSo what are we going to do?â€
â€œWeâ€™re going to use the only means of transport left to us, the only ones the Trace canâ€™t detect, because we donâ€™t need to cast spells to use them: brooms, thestrals, and Hagridâ€™s motorbike.â€
Harry could see flaws in this plan; however, he held his tongue to give Mad-Eye the chance to address them.
â€œNow, your motherâ€™s charm will only break under two conditions: when you come of age, orâ€ â€“ Moody gestured around the pristine kitchen â€“ â€œyou no longer call this place home. You and your aunt and uncle are going your separate ways tonight, in the full understanding that youâ€™re never going to live together again, correct?â€
â€œSo this time, when you leave, thereâ€™ll be no going back, and the charm will break the moment you get outside its range. Weâ€™re choosing to break it early, because the alternative is waiting for You-Know-Who to come and seize you the moment you turn seventeen.â€
â€œThe one thing weâ€™ve got on our side is that You-Know-Who doesnâ€™t know weâ€™re moving you tonight. Weâ€™ve leaked a fake trail to the Ministry: They think youâ€™re not leaving until the thirtieth. However, this is You-Know-Who weâ€™re dealing with, so we canâ€™t rely on him getting the date wrong; heâ€™s bound to have a couple of Death Eaters patrolling the skies in this general area, just in case. So, weâ€™ve given a dozen different houses every protection we can throw at them. They all look like they could be the place weâ€™re going to hide you, theyâ€™ve all got some connection with the Order: my house, Kingsleyâ€™s place, Mollyâ€™s Auntie Murielâ€™s â€“ you get the idea.â€
â€œYeah,â€ said Harry, not entirely truthfully, because he could still spot a gaping hole in the plan.
â€œYouâ€™ll be going to Tonksâ€™s parents. Once youâ€™re within the boundaries of the protective enchantments weâ€™ve put on their house youâ€™ll be able to use a Portkey to the Burrow. Any questions?â€
â€œEr â€“ yes,â€ said Harry. â€œMaybe they wonâ€™t know which of the twelve secure houses Iâ€™m heading for at first, but wonâ€™t it be sort of obvious onceâ€ â€“ he performed a quick headcount â€“ â€œfourteen of us fly off toward Tonksâ€™s parents?â€
â€œAh,â€ said Moody, â€œI forgot to mention the key point. Fourteen of us wonâ€™t be flying to Tonksâ€™s parents. There will be seven Harry Potters moving through the skies tonight, each of them with a companion, each pair heading for a different safe house.â€
From inside his cloak Moody now withdrew a flask of what looked like mud. There was no need for him to say another word; Harry understood the rest of the plan immediately.
â€œNo!â€ he said loudly, his voice ringing through the kitchen. â€œNo way!â€
â€œI told them youâ€™d take it like this,â€ said Hermione with a hint of complacency.
â€œIf you think Iâ€™m going to let six people risk their lives â€“!â€
â€œ â€“ because itâ€™s the first time for all of us,â€ said Ron.
â€œThis is different, pretending to be me â€“ â€
â€œWell, none of us really fancy it, Harry,â€ said Fred earnestly. â€œImagine if something went wrong and we were stuck as specky, scrawny gits forever.â€
Harry did not smile.
â€œYou canâ€™t do it if I donâ€™t cooperate, you need me to give you some hair.â€
â€œWell, thatâ€™s the plan scuppered,â€ said George. â€œObviously thereâ€™s no chance at all of us getting a bit of your hair unless you cooperate.â€
â€œYeah, thirteen of us against one bloke whoâ€™s not allowed to use magic; weâ€™ve got no chance,â€ said Fred.
â€œFunny,â€ said Harry, â€œreally amusing.â€
â€œIf it has to come to force, then it will,â€ growled Moody, his magical eye now quivering a little in its socket as he glared at Harry. â€œEveryone hereâ€™s overage, Potter, and theyâ€™re all prepared to take the risk.â€
Mundungus shrugged and grimaced; the magical eye swerved sideways to glance at him out of the side of Moodyâ€™s head.
â€œLetâ€™s have no more arguments. Timeâ€™s wearing on. I want a few of your hairs, boy, now.â€
â€œBut this is mad, thereâ€™s no need â€“ â€
â€œNo need!â€ snarled Moody. â€œWith You-Know-Who out there and half the Ministry on his side? Potter, if weâ€™re lucky heâ€™ll have swallowed the fake bait and heâ€™ll be planning to ambush you on the thirtieth, but heâ€™d be mad not to have a Death Eater or two keeping an eye out, itâ€™s what Iâ€™d do. They might not be able to get at you or this house while your motherâ€™s charm holds, but itâ€™s about to break and they know the rough position of the place. Our only chance is to use decoys. Even You-Know-Who canâ€™t split himself into seven.â€
Harry caught Hermioneâ€™s eye and looked away at once.
â€œSo, Potter â€“ some of your hair, if you please.â€
Harry glanced at Ron, who grimaced at him in a just-do-it sort of way.
â€œNow!â€ 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.
â€œGood,â€ said Moody, limping forward as he pulled the stopper out of the flask of potion. â€œStraight in here, if you please.â€
Harry dropped the hair into the mudlike liquid. The moment it made contact with its surface, the potion began to froth and smoke, then, all at once, it turned a clear, bright gold.
â€œOoh, you look much tastier than Crabbe and Goyle, Harry,â€ said Hermione, before catching sight of Ronâ€™s raised eyebrows, blushing slightly, and saying, â€œOh, you know what I mean â€“ Goyleâ€™s potion tasted like bogies.â€
â€œRight then, fake Potters line up over here, please,â€ said Moody.
Ron, Hermione, Fred, George, and Fleur lined up in front of Aunt Petuniaâ€™s gleaming sink.
â€œWeâ€™re one short,â€ said Lupin.
â€œHere,â€ 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.
â€œIâ€™m a soldier, Iâ€™d sooner be a protector,â€ said Mundungus.
â€œShut it,â€ growled Moody. â€œAs Iâ€™ve already told you, you spineless worm, any Death Eaters we run into will be aiming to capture Potter, not kill him. Dumbledore always said You-Know-Who would want to finish Potter in person. Itâ€™ll be the protectors who have got the most to worry about, the Death Eatersâ€™ll want to kill them.â€
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.
â€œAltogether, then â€¦â€
Ron, Hermione, Fred, George, Fleur, and Mundungus drank. All of them gasped and grimaced as the potion hit their throats; At once, their features began to bubble and distort like hot wax. Hermione and Mundungus were shooting upward; Ron, Fred, and George were shrinking; their hair was darkening, Hermioneâ€™s and Fleurâ€™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 together, â€œWow â€“ weâ€™re identical!â€
â€œI dunno, though, I think Iâ€™m still better-looking,â€ said Fred, examining his reflection in the kettle.
â€œBah,â€ said Fleur, checking herself in the microwave door, â€œBill, donâ€™t look at me â€“ Iâ€™m â€˜ideous.â€
â€œThose whose clothes are a bit roomy, Iâ€™ve got smaller here,â€ said Moody, indicating the first sack, â€œand vice versa. Donâ€™t forget the glasses, thereâ€™s six pairs in the side pocket. And when youâ€™re dressed, thereâ€™s luggage in the other sack.â€
The real Harry thought that this might just 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 to show a little more respect for privacy as they all began stripping off with impunity, clearly more at ease with displaying his body than they would have been with their own.
â€œI knew Ginny was lying about that tattoo,â€ said Ron, looking down at his bare chest.
â€œHarry, your eyesight really is awful,â€ said Hermione, as she put on glasses.
Once dressed, the fake Harrys took rucksacks and owl cages, each containing a stuffed snowy owl, from the second sack.
â€œGood,â€ said Moody, as at last seven dressed, bespectacled, and luggage-laden Harrys faced him. â€œThe pairs will be as follows: Mundungus will be traveling with me, by broom â€“ â€
â€œWhyâ€™m I with you?â€ grunted the Harry nearest the back door.
â€œBecause youâ€™re the one that needs watching,â€ growled Moody, and sure enough, his magical eye did not waver from Mundungus as he continued, â€œArthur and Fred â€“ â€
â€œIâ€™m George,â€ said the twin at whom Moody was pointing. â€œCanâ€™t you even tell us apart when weâ€™re Harry?â€
â€œSorry, George â€“ â€
â€œIâ€™m only yanking your wand, Iâ€™m Fred really â€“ â€
â€œEnough messing around!â€ snarled Moody. â€œThe other one â€“ George or Fred or whoever you are â€“ youâ€™re with Remus. Miss Delacour â€“ â€
â€œIâ€™m taking Fleur on a thestral,â€ said Bill. â€œSheâ€™s not that fond of brooms.â€
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.
â€œMiss Granger with Kingsley, again by thestral â€“ â€
Hermione looked reassured as she answered Kingsleyâ€™s smile; Harry knew that Hermione too lacked confidence on a broomstick.
â€œWhich leaves you and me, Ron!â€ said Tonks brightly, knocking over a mug tree as she waved at him.
Ron did not look quite as pleased as Hermione.
â€œAnâ€™ youâ€™re with me, Harry. That all righâ€™?â€ said Hagrid, looking a little anxious. â€œWeâ€™ll be on the bike, brooms anâ€™ thestrals canâ€™t take me weight, see. Not a lot oâ€™ room on the seat with me on it, though, so youâ€™ll be in the sidecar.â€
â€œThatâ€™s great,â€ said Harry, not altogether truthfully.
â€œWe think the Death Eaters will expect you to be on a broom,â€ said Moody, who seemed to guess how Harry was feeling. â€œSnapeâ€™s had plenty of time to tell them everything about you heâ€™s never mentioned before, so if we do run into any Death Eaters, weâ€™re betting theyâ€™ll choose one of the Potters who looks at home on a broomstick. All right then,â€ he went on, tying up the sack with the fake Pottersâ€™ clothes in it and leading the way back to the door, â€œI make it three minutes until weâ€™re supposed to leave. No point locking the back door, it wonâ€™t keep the Death Eaters out when they come looking. Come on â€¦â€
Harry hurried to gather his rucksack, Firebolt, and Hedwigâ€™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 motorbike, goggles on.
â€œIs this it? Is this Siriusâ€™s bike?â€
â€œThe very same,â€ said Hagrid, beaming down at Harry. â€œAnâ€™ the last time yeh was on it, Harry, I could fit yeh in one hand!â€
Harry could not help but feel a little humiliated as he got into the sidecar. It placed him several feet below everybody else: Ron smirked at the sight of him sitting there like a child in a bumper car. Harry stuffed his rucksack and broomstick down by his feet and rammed Hedwigâ€™s cage between his knees. He was extremely uncomfortable.
â€œArthurâ€™s done a bit oâ€™ tinkerinâ€™,â€ said Hagrid, quite oblivious to Harryâ€™s discomfort. He settled himself astride the motorcycle, which creaked slightly and sank inches into the ground. â€œItâ€™s got a few tricks up its sleeves now. Thaâ€™ one was my idea.â€ He pointed a thick finger at a purple button near the speedometer.
â€œPlease be careful, Hagrid.â€ said Mr. Weasley, who was standing beside them, holding his broomstick. â€œIâ€™m still not sure that was advisable and itâ€™s certainly only to be used in emergencies.â€
â€œAll right, then.â€ said Moody. â€œEveryone ready, please. I want us all to leave at exactly the same time or the whole point of the diversionâ€™s lost.â€
Everybody motioned their heads. â€œHold tight now, Ron,â€ 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 motorbike into life: It roared like a dragon, and the sidecar began to vibrate.
â€œGood luck, everyone,â€ shouted Moody. â€œSee you all in about an hour at the Burrow. On the count of three. One â€¦ two . THREE.â€
There was a great roar from the motorbike, and Harry felt the sidecar give a nasty lurch. He was rising through the 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 thestral flicked past. His legs, jammed into the sidecar by Hedwigâ€™s cage and his rucksack, were already sore and starting to go numb. So great was his discomfort 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, suspended in midair, formed a vast circle in the middle of which the Order members had risen, oblivious â€“ Screams, a blaze of green light on every side: Hagrid gave a yell and the motorbike 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. Hedwigâ€™s cage, the Firebolt, and his rucksack slipped from beneath his knees â€“
â€œNo â€“ HELP!â€
The broomstick spun too, but he just managed to seize the strap of his rucksack and the top of the cage as the motorbike swung the right way up again. A secondâ€™s relief, and then another burst of green light. The owl screeched and fell to the floor of the cage.
â€œNo â€“ NO!â€
The motorbike zoomed forward; Harry glimpsed hooded Death Eaters scattering as Hagrid blasted through their circle.
â€œHedwig â€“ Hedwig â€“ â€
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 paramount. 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 â€“
â€œHagrid, weâ€™ve got to go back, weâ€™ve got to go back!â€ he yelled over the thunderous roar of the engine, pulling out his wand, ramming Hedwigâ€™s cage into the floor, refusing to believe that she was dead. â€œHagrid, TURN AROUND!â€
â€œMy jobâ€™s ter get you there safe, Harry!â€ bellow Hagrid, and he opened the throttle. â€œStop â€“ STOP!â€ Harry shouted, but as he looked back again two jets of green light flew past his left ear: Four Death Eaters had broken away from the circle and were pursuing them, aiming for Hagridâ€™s broad back. Hagrid swerved, but the Death Eaters were keeping up with the bike; more curses shot after them, and Harry had to sink low into the sidecar to avoid them. Wriggling around he cried, â€œStupefy!â€ and a red bolt of light shot from his own wand, cleaving a gap between the four pursuing Death Eaters as they scattered to avoid it.
â€œHold on, Harry, thisâ€™ll do for â€˜em!â€ roared Hagrid, and Harry looked up just in time to see Hagrid slamming a thick finger into a green button near the fuel gauge. A wall, a solid black wall, erupted out of the exhaust pipe. Craning his neck, Harry saw it expand into being in midair. Three of the Death Eaters swerved and avoided it, but the fourth was not so lucky; He vanished from view and then dropped like a boulder from behind it, his broomstick broken into pieces. One of his fellows slowed up to save him, but they and the airborne wall were swallowed by darkness as Hagrid leaned low over the handlebars and sped up.
More Killing Curses flew past Harryâ€™s head from the two remaining Death Eatersâ€™ wands; they were aiming for Hagrid. Harry responded with further Stunning Spells: Red and green collided in midair in a shower of multicolored sparks, and Harry thought wildly of fireworks, and the Muggles below who would have no idea what was happening â€“
â€œHere we go again, Harry, hold on!â€ yelled Hagrid, and he jabbed at a second button. This time a great net burst from the bikeâ€™s exhaust, but the Death Eaters were ready for it. Not only did they swerve to avoid it, but the companion who had slowed to save their unconscious friend had caught up. He bloomed suddenly out of the darkness and now three of them were pursuing the motorbike, all shooting curses after it.
â€œThisâ€™ll do it, Harry, hold on tight!â€ yelled Hagrid, and Harry saw him slam his whole hand onto the purple button beside the speedometer.
With an unmistakable bellowing roar, dragon fire burst from the exhaust, white-hot and blue, and the motorbike shot forward like a bullet with a sound of wrenching metal. Harry saw the Death Eaters swerve out of sight to avoid the deadly trail of flame, and at the same time felt the sidecar sway ominously: Its metal connections to the bike had splintered with the force of acceleration.
â€œItâ€™s all righâ€™, Harry!â€ bellowed Hagrid, now thrown flat onto the back by the surge of speed; nobody was steering now, and the sidecar was starting to twist violently in the bikeâ€™s slipstream.
â€œIâ€™m on it, Harry, donâ€™ worry!â€ Hagrid yelled, and from inside his jacket pocket he pulled his flowery pink umbrella.
â€œHagrid! No! Let me!â€
There was a deafening bang and the sidecar broke away from the bike completely. Harry sped forward, propelled by the impetus of the bikeâ€™s flight, then the sidecar began to lose height â€“
In desperation Harry pointed his wand at the sidecar and shouted, â€œWingardium Leviosa!â€
The sidecar rose like a cork, unsteerable but at least still airborne. He had but a split secondâ€™s relief, however, as more curses streaked past him: The three Death Eaters were closing in.
â€œIâ€™m cominâ€™, Harry!â€œ Hagrid yelled from out of the darkness, but Harry could feel the sidecar beginning to sink again: Crouching as low as he could, he pointed at the middle of the oncoming figures and yelled, â€Impedimenta!â€œ
The jinx hit the middle Death Eater in the chest; For a moment the man was absurdly spread-eagled in midair as though he had hit an invisible barrier: One of his fellows almost collided with him â€“ Then the sidecar began to fall in earnest, and the remaining Death Eater shot a curse so close to Harry that he had to duck below the rim of the car, knocking out a tooth on the edge of his seat â€“
â€œIâ€™m cominâ€™, Harry, Iâ€™m cominâ€™!â€
A huge hand seized the back of Harryâ€™s robes and hoisted him out of the plummeting sidecar; Harry pulled his rucksack with him as he dragged himself onto the motorbikeâ€™s seat and found himself back-to-back with Hagrid. As they soared upward, away from the two remaining Death Eaters, Harry spat blood out of his mouth, pointed his wand at the falling sidecar, and yelled, â€œConfringo!â€
He knew a dreadful, gut-wrenching pang for Hedwig as it exploded; the Death Eater nearest it was blasted off his broom and fell from sight; his companion fell back and vanished.
â€œHarry, Iâ€™m sorry, Iâ€™m sorry,â€ moaned Hagrid, â€œI shouldnâ€™ta tried ter repair it meself â€“ yehâ€™ve got no room â€“ â€
â€œItâ€™s not a problem, just keep flying!â€ Harry shouted back, as two more Death Eaters emerged out of the darkness, drawing closer.
As the curses came shooting across the intervening space again, Hagrid swerved and zigzagged: Harry knew that Hagrid did not dare use the dragon-fire button again, with Harry seated so insecurely. Harry sent Stunning Spell after Stunning Spell back at their pursuers, barely holding them off. He shot another blocking jinx at them: The closest Death Eater swerved to avoid it and his hood slipped, and by the red light of his next Stunning Spell, Harry saw the strangely blank face of Stanley Shunpike â€“ Stan â€“
â€œExpelliarmus!â€œ Harry yelled.
â€œThatâ€™s him, itâ€™s him, itâ€™s the real one!â€
The hooded Death Eaterâ€™s shout reached Harry even above the thunder of the motorbikeâ€™s engine: Next moment, both pursuers had fallen back and disappeared from view.
â€œHarry, whatâ€™s happened?â€ bellowed Hagrid. â€œWhereâ€™ve they gone?â€
â€œI donâ€™t know!â€
But Harry was afraid: The hooded Death Eater had shouted, â€œItâ€™s the real one!â€; how had he known? He gazed around at the apparently empty darkness and felt its menace. Where were they?
He clambered around on the seat to face forward and seized hold of the back of Hagridâ€™s jacket.
â€œHagrid, do the dragon-fire thing again, letâ€™s get out of here!â€
â€œHold on tight, then, Harry!â€
There was a deafening, screeching roar again and the white-blue fire shot from the exhaust: Harry felt himself slipping backwards off what little of the seat he had. Hagrid flung backward upon him, barely maintaining his grip on the handlebars â€“ â€œI think weâ€™ve lost â€˜em Harry, I think weâ€™ve done it!â€ yelled Hagrid.
But Harry was not convinced; Fear lapped at him as he looked left and right for pursuers he was sure would comeâ€¦. Why had they fallen back? One of them had still had a wandâ€¦. Itâ€™s himâ€¦ itâ€™s the real oneâ€¦. They had said it right after he had tried to Disarm Stanâ€¦.
â€œWeâ€™re nearly there, Harry, weâ€™ve nearly made it!â€ shouted Hagrid.
Harry felt the bike drop a little, though the lights down on the ground still seemed remote as stars.
Then the scar on his forehead burned like fire: as a Death Eater appeared on either side of the bike, two Killing Curses missed Harry by millimeters, cast from behind â€“ And then Harry saw him. Voldemort was flying like smoke on the wind, without broomstick or thestral to hold him, his snake-like face gleaming out of the blackness, his white fingers raising his wand again â€“
Hagrid let out a bellow of fear and steered the motorbike into a vertical dive. Clinging on for dear life, Harry sent Stunning Spells flying at random into the whirling night. He saw a body fly past him and knew he had hit one of them, but then he heard a bang and saw sparks from the engine; the motorbike spiraled through the air, completely out of control â€“
Green jets of light shot past them again. Harry had no idea which way was up, which down: His scar was still burning; he expected to die at any second. A hooded figure on a broomstick was feet from him, he saw it raise its arm â€“
With a shout of fury Hagrid launched himself off the bike at the Death Eater; to his horror, Harry saw both Hagrid and the Death Eater, falling out of sight, their combined weight too much for the broomstick â€“
Barely gripping the plummeting bike with his knees, Harry heard Voldemort scream, â€œMine!â€
It was over: He could not see or hear where Voldemort was; he glimpsed another Death Eater swooping out of the way and heard, â€œAvada â€“ â€
As the pain from Harryâ€™s scar forced his eyes shut, his wand acted of its own accord. He felt it drag his hand around like some great magnet, saw a spurt of golden fire through his half-closed eyelids, heard a crack and a scream of fury. The remaining Death Eater yelled; Voldemort screamed, â€œNO!â€ Somehow, Harry found his nose an inch from the dragon-fire button. He punched it with his wand-free hand and the bike shot more flames into the air, hurtling straight toward the ground.
â€œHagrid!â€œ Harry called, holding on to the bike for dear life. â€œHagrid â€“ Accio Hagrid!â€
The motorbike sped up, sucked towards the earth. Face level with the handlebars, Harry could see nothing but distant lights growing nearer and nearer: He was going to crash and there was nothing he could do about it. Behind him came another scream, â€œYour wand, Selwyn, give me your wand!â€
He felt Voldemort before he saw him. Looking sideways, he stared into the red eyes and was sure they would be the last thing he ever saw: Voldemort preparing to curse him once more â€“
And then Voldemort vanished. Harry looked down and saw Hagrid spread-eagled on the ground below him. He pulled hard at the handlebars to avoid hitting him, groped for the brake, but with an earsplitting, ground trembling crash, he smashed into a muddy pond.
The Deathly Hallows
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