Harry had a troubled night's sleep. His parents wove in and out of his dreams, never speaking; Mrs. Weasley sobbed over Kreacher's dead body, watched by Ron and Hermione who were wearing crowns, and yet again Harry
found himself walking down a corridor ending in a locked door. He awoke abruptly with his scar prickling to find Ron already dressed and talking to him.
‘...better hurry up, Mums going ballistic, she says we're going to miss the train....’
There was a lot of commotion in the house. From what he heard as he dressed at top speed, Harry gathered that Fred and George had bewitched their trunks to fly downstairs to save the bother of carrying them, with the
result that they had hurtled straight into Ginny and knocked her down two flights of stairs into the hall; Mrs. Black and Mrs. Weasley were both screaming at the top of their voices.
‘—COULD HAVE DONE HER A SERIOUS INJURY, YOU IDIOTS—’
‘—FILTHY HALF-BREEDS, BESMIRCHING THE HOUSE OF MY FATHERS—’
Hermione came hurrying into the room looking flustered, just as Harry was putting on his trainers. Hedwig was swaying on her shoulder, and she was carrying a squirming Crookshanks in her arms.
‘Mum and Dad just sent Hedwig back'—the owl fluttered obligingly over and perched on top of her cage—'are you ready yet?’
‘Nearly—Ginny all right?’ Harry asked, shoving on his glasses.
‘Mrs. Weasley's patched her up,’ said Hermione. ‘But now Mad-Eye's complaining that we can't leave unless Sturgis Podmore's here, otherwise the guard will be one short.’
‘Guard?’ said Harry. ‘We have to go to King's Cross with a guard?’
‘You have to go to King's Cross with a guard,’ Hermione corrected him.
‘Why?’ said Harry irritably. ‘I thought Voldemort was supposed to be lying low, or are you telling me he's going to jump out from behind a dustbin to try and do me in.’
‘I don't know, it's just what Mad-Eye says,’ said Hermione distractedly, looking at her watch, ‘but if we don't leave soon we're definitely going to miss the train ....’
‘WILL YOU LOT GET DOWN HERE NOW, PLEASE!’ Mrs. Weasley bellowed and Hermione jumped as though scalded and hurried out of the room. Harry seized Hedwig, stuffed her unceremoniously into her cage, and set off
downstairs after Hermione, dragging his trunk.
Mrs. Black's portrait was howling with rage but nobody was bothering to close the curtains over her; all the noise in the hall was bound to rouse her again, anyway.
‘Harry, you're to come with me and Tonks,’ shouted Mrs. Weasley over the repeated screeches of ‘MUDBLOODS! SCUM! CREATURES OF DIRT!’ ‘Leave your trunk and your owl, Alastor's going to deal with the luggage....
Oh, for heavens sake, Sirius, Dumbledore said no!’
A bearlike black dog had appeared at Harry's side as he was clambering over the various trunks cluttering the hall to get to Mrs. Weasley.
‘Oh honestly...’ said Mrs. Weasley despairingly, ‘well, on your own head be it!’
She wrenched open the front door and stepped out into the weak September sunlight. Harry and the dog followed her. The door slammed behind them and Mrs. Black's screeches were cut off instantly.
‘Where's Tonks?’ Harry said, looking round as they went down the stone steps of number twelve, which vanished the moment they reached the pavement.
‘She's waiting for us just up here,’ said Mrs. Weasley stiffly, averting her eyes from the lolloping black dog beside Harry.
An old woman greeted them on the corner. She had tightly curled grey hair and wore a purple hat shaped like a pork pie.
‘Wotcher, Harry,’ she said, winking. ‘Better hurry up, hadn't we, Molly?’ she added, checking her watch.
‘I know, I know,’ moaned Mrs. Weasley, lengthening her stride, ‘but Mad-Eye wanted to wait for Sturgis.... If only Arthur could have got us cars from the Ministry again ... but Fudge won't let him borrow so much as an empty ink
bottle these days... How Muggles can stand travelling without magic...’
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