Chapter 240
They flew onward high above the ground on their broomsticks, changing direction every now and then according to Moody's instructions. Harry closed his eyes to escape the freezing wind that made his ears ache. The cold reminded him of the only other time he had flown in such weather—during the Quidditch match against Hufflepuff in his third year, when a violent storm had swept across the pitch.
The guards surrounding him kept swooping and climbing like birds of prey. Harry lost all sense of time and wondered how long they had been flying. It felt as though at least an hour had passed.
"Southwest!" Moody shouted. "We have to avoid the motorway!"
Harry was so cold that he found himself longing for the warm, dry cars moving far below them. Kingsley Shacklebolt flew around him, his bald head and single earring gleaming in the moonlight. Emmeline Vance took position on his right, her wand drawn while her head moved constantly from side to side. Soon she climbed higher and Sturgis Podmore replaced her.
"We'll circle back for a while," Moody called. "Need to make sure nobody's following us."
"Have you gone mad, Moody?" Tonks yelled. "We'll freeze to death on these broomsticks! At this rate we won't arrive until next week—and we're practically there already!"
"It's time to land," Lupin's voice came. "Follow Tonks, Harry."
Harry followed Tonks as she descended. Ahead lay the largest cluster of lights he had ever seen—a tangled web of glowing streets broken by patches of darkness. Lower and lower they flew until Harry could distinguish individual street lamps, chimneys and television antennas. He desperately wished to reach the ground soon, though he had the feeling someone would have to pry his frozen body off the broom.
"We're here," Tonks said.
Seconds later she landed.
Harry touched down behind her and dismounted onto thick grass in a small square. Tonks had already detached his trunk.
Shivering violently, Harry looked around. The houses surrounding them were anything but welcoming. Some had broken windows; others reflected the streetlights dully. Several doors had peeling paint, and piles of rubbish lay in front of the entrances.
"Where are we?" Harry asked.
"You'll know in a minute," Lupin replied calmly.
Moody fumbled inside his cloak, his hands shaking from the cold.
"Found it."
He pulled out something resembling a silver cigarette lighter and clicked it. The nearest streetlamp went out. He clicked it again, extinguishing the next lamp, and continued until every light in the square had vanished, leaving only the glow behind curtained windows and the crescent moon above.
"Borrowed it from Dumbledore," Moody muttered, slipping the Put-Outer back into his pocket. "Wouldn't want Muggles seeing us. Now come on—quickly."
He grabbed Harry's arm and led him across the grass to the pavement. Lupin and Tonks followed carrying Harry's trunk, while the rest of the guards brought up the rear with their wands drawn.
The muffled sound of a radio drifted from an upstairs window nearby, and the foul smell of garbage wafted from a broken gate.
"Here," Moody muttered, pressing a piece of parchment into Harry's invisible hand while illuminating it with his wand. "Read it quickly and memorize it."
Harry glanced down. The handwriting looked strangely familiar. The message stated where the headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix could be found.
"What is the Order of the—"
"Not here, boy!" Moody snapped. "Wait until we're inside."
He snatched the parchment away and burned it with the tip of his wand. As the paper curled into ashes, Harry looked around again. They were standing in front of number eleven. Number ten stood on the left, and number thirteen on the right.
"But where—?"
"Think about what you just read," Lupin said softly.
Moody pointed his wand at the wall separating numbers ten and eleven. Without making a sound, the wall slowly split apart, revealing a glowing blue circle that looked like a portal to another place.
"Move!" Moody barked, shoving Harry forward.
Harry stepped through and found himself standing inside a house upon ancient stone steps, staring in astonishment at the portal behind him. He had entered the Black family home almost instantly. The black paint was chipped and peeling in several places, and the brass knocker on the door was shaped like a coiled serpent. There was neither keyhole nor letterbox.
Lupin knocked once with his wand. Harry heard the rattling of chains, and the door opened.
"Inside quickly, Harry," Lupin whispered. "But don't wander around and don't touch anything."
Harry stepped into near-total darkness. The air smelled dusty, damp and vaguely sweet. He glanced behind him and saw the others filing in, while Lupin and Tonks carried his trunk and Hedwig's cage.
Moody stepped inside last. The blue portal vanished behind him, plunging the hall into complete darkness.
"Come here."
He tapped Harry hard on the head with his wand. A sensation like warm liquid trickled down Harry's back, and he realized the Disillusionment Charm had been removed.
"Everyone stay still while I light the place."
The silence around him gave Harry an odd feeling—as though they had entered the home of someone dying. A hissing sound filled the air, and old oil lamps flared to life along the walls, casting a flickering, ghostly glow over the faded wallpaper and threadbare carpet. Tarnished candelabras and ancient portraits blackened by age hung crookedly on the walls.
Harry heard something scurrying behind the curtains. On a nearby table stood a chandelier and several snake-shaped candle holders.
Nothing had changed since the last time he had left this place after finishing his fourth year.
Footsteps approached, followed by the voice of Mrs. Weasley emerging from a door at the far end of the hall. She hurried toward them with a smile, though Harry noticed she looked thinner and paler than the last time he had seen her.
"Oh, Harry!" she whispered, embracing him so tightly she nearly crushed his ribs. "I'm so happy to see you."
Pulling back, she examined him critically.
"You're far too thin. You need feeding. Unfortunately, you'll have to wait a bit before dinner."
"Didn't we just have dinner?" Tonks asked.
Mrs. Weasley gave her a sly smile.
"We're having dinner again. Harry's arrived—surely we aren't leaving him hungry?"
The wizards behind Harry seemed perfectly pleased with that idea and headed toward the room Mrs. Weasley had come from. Harry started to follow Lupin, but Mrs. Weasley stopped him.
"No, Harry. The meeting is for Order members only."
"Ron and Hermione are upstairs. You can wait with them until the meeting is over. And keep your voice down in the hall."
"Why?"
"I don't want anything to wake up."
"What do you mean by—?"
"I'll explain later. Come on, I should be in the meeting. I'll show you where you'll sleep."
Pressing a finger to her lips, she led him past long moth-eaten curtains and around a large umbrella stand before climbing the dark staircase. Mounted on iron spikes along the wall were shrunken heads. Looking closer, Harry realized they were house-elf heads—all with the same haughty noses.
His bewilderment increased with every step.
"Mrs. Weasley... why—?"
"Ron and Hermione will explain everything, dear. I really must hurry. Here we are."
They had reached the second floor.
"Your room is the one on the right—the same room you used before. I'll call you when the meeting is over."
Then she hurried downstairs again.
Harry crossed the grimy landing and turned the snake-shaped handle.
He saw the high dark ceiling and the twin beds—
Then came a loud crash, followed by a scream, and suddenly his vision was obscured by a mass of bushy hair.
Hermione threw herself at him in a hug that nearly knocked him over, while Pigwidgeon swooped excitedly around their heads.
"Ron! He's here! Harry's here! We didn't hear you come in! How are you? Are you all right? Are you angry with us? I bet you are—our letters had no details, but we couldn't say anything! Dumbledore made us swear not to tell you anything. We've got so much to tell you—and we want to hear everything about the Dementors and your Ministry hearing—"
"Let him breathe, Hermione," Ron said with a grin as he shut the door.
He had grown several inches since Harry had last seen him and was taller and thinner than before, though his long nose, freckles and flaming red hair remained unchanged.
Hermione finally released Harry, still beaming. Before she could speak again, a white blur fluttered down from atop a black wardrobe.
Hedwig landed on Harry's shoulder and affectionately nibbled his ear while he stroked her feathers.
"She's devoted to her job," Ron said. "She nearly killed us after delivering your last letters. Look."
Harry saw a deep cut on Ron's index finger, now partially healed.
"Sorry," Harry said. "But I wanted answers."
"Where's Albert?" Harry suddenly asked. "I haven't seen him."
Ron looked slightly annoyed.
"He's downstairs with the adults during the meeting. Honestly, I don't know how he managed that when we couldn't."
Hermione shrugged.
"Don't take it personally. I suppose they let him stay because he might know things about You-Know-Who after what happened."
...
(To be continued.)