Delilah knew the moment Harry entered their room. He immediately bolted toward his desk and wrote three short letters and sealed them, addressing them probably to Sirius, Ron, and Hermione. He probably would have sent them, but Hedwig was still out hunting.
Then he paced. Delilah tried to ignore him, but it's hard to ignore someone who was moving up and down, up and down repeatedly.
"Stop pacing, you'll wear the floors down even more," she finally told him.
He didn't stop.
Delilah groaned and threw an extra pillow at him.
"Seriously, stop. You're making me anxious."
He sat on his bed, staring at the floor as if he was trying to solve life's problems.
Delilah rolled her eyes before rolling over, trying to fall asleep. She almost did when Harry snarled, "About time! You can put that down, I've got work for you!"
Hedwig had gotten back. Delilah rolled her eyes. Of course Harry said that loudly, it wasn't like anyone in the room was trying to sleep.
"Come here," Harry said. "Take these straight to Sirius, Ron, and Hermione and don't come back here without good long replies. Keep pecking them till they've written decent-length answers if you've got to. Understand?" Hedwig gave a muffled hooting noise, beak full of... something.
"Get going, then," said Harry.
Finally, Harry shut up, but it still took Delilah a while to fall asleep.
Hedwig didn't return in the morning, which surprised Delilah. She had thought that they would reply as quickly as possible to stop Hedwig from pecking them, but apparently she was wrong.
Delilah was stuck in the bedroom with Harry, only leaving to go to the bathroom. Three times that day Aunt Petunia shoved food into their room through the cat flap Uncle Vernon had installed Every time Harry tried to question her about the Howler, but he might as well have interrogated the doorknob for all the answers he got. Otherwise the Dursleys kept well clear of their bedroom.
So it went on for three whole days. Harry was unable to settle to anything, so he paced his bedroom again, furious at everything and one, but Delilah preferred his pacing to the lethargy that he just lay on his bed for an hour at a time, staring dazedly into space, looking dead.
Delilah tried to talk to him, but he wouldn't listen, even when she told him the hearing was unfair, and that he was sure to be cleared. It had been a life threatening situation, and the Muggle already knew about magic. So, since he didn't pay her any attention, Delilah spent most of the time reading and talking to Midnight, who seemed just as bored as Delilah.
On the fourth night since Hedwig's departure, Delilah was writing in her notebook about possible suggestions for the potions in her advanced, sixth year book, while Harry lay depressed and anxious on his bed when Uncle Vernon walked into their room in his best suit. Delilah ignored him.
We're going out," he said.
"Sorry?"
"We — that is to say, your aunt, Dudley, and I — are going out."
"Fine," said Harry dully.
"You are not to leave your bedroom while we are away."
"Okay."
"You are not to touch the television, the stereo, or any of our possessions."
"Right."
"You are not to steal food from the fridge."
"Okay."
"I am going to lock your door."
"You do that."
Uncle Vernon glared at them, suspicious at their lack of argument, then stomped out of the room and closed the door behind him. Delilah heard the key turn in the lock and Uncle Vernon's footsteps walking heavily down the stairs. A few minutes later she heard the slamming of car doors, the rumble of an engine, and the unmistakable sound of the car sweeping out of the drive.
Right after Delilah shot up, glad to be able to move about the house again. She picked the lock then hesitated, glancing at Harry.
"I'm going to go grab some food, want me to get you anything?"
Harry continued to stare at the ceiling, which she took as a no.
Delilah hurried downstairs and opened the fridge. There wasn't anything too delicious, so she quickly made some toast and put strawberry jam on it, gulped down some water, and cleaned and put the knife she used away. She walked around, stretching her legs, only heading up when she noticed it was growing dark out.
A while after she had settled back on her bed, there was a distinct crash in the kitchen.
Delilah bolted up, listening intently and saw Harry do the same. They made eye contact. The Dursleys couldn't be back already, it was much too soon and Delilah hadn't heard their car.
There was silence for a few moments before she could hear voices. Could it be burglars? But they'd try to be quiet....
Delilah grabbed her wand and handed Harry his. They stood facing the door, their wands in front of them. She jumped as there was a loud click and the door slid open. She quickly glanced at Harry, but he hadn't noticed.
Neither of them moved as Delilah strained her ears for further sounds. There was none. Harry turned to her.
"Ladies first?"
She smirked.
"Such a gentleman you are," she sarcastically replied. "But it's age before beauty."
Harry grinned for the first time that summer.
"Exactly why you're heading out first."
"Ouch."
She grinned before silently and swiftly moving to the head of the stairs, feeling like she had won just because Harry didn't seem as angsty.
Delilah held in her exclamation. There were people standing in the shadowy hall below, silhouetted against the streetlight glowing through the glass door; eight or nine of them, all, as far as she could see, looking up at her. Harry pushed in front of her.
"Lower your wands, before you take someone's eye out," said a low, growling voice.
Delilah didn't.
"Professor Moody?" Harry said.
"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."
Neither of them moved, with good reason. She knew that voice, it was Moody, and last year she had thought he was the one teaching when really he was an impersonator.
"It's all right, we've come to take you away." Delilah's heart leapt. She knew that voice too, though she hadn't heard it for more than a year.
"P-Professor Lupin?" Harry 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. Delilah blinked. The people below were crowded around the foot of the stairs, gazing intently up at Harry and Delilah, some craning their heads for a better look.
Remus stood nearest to them. Though still quite young, he looked tired and rather ill; he had more gray hair than when Delilah had said good-bye to him, and his robes were more patched and shabbier than ever. Nevertheless, he was smiling broadly at Harry and Delilah, who smiled back.
"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 violet.
"Wotcher, Harry!"
"Yeah, I see what you mean, Remus," said a bald, dark wizard standing farthest 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. "Lily's eyes."
"And the girl, she's the spitting image of Lily," said the bald wizard.
Mad-Eye Moody, who had long grizzled gray hair and a large chunk missing from his nose, was squinting suspiciously at Harry and Delilah through his mismatched eyes. One of the eyes 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 head.
"Are you quite sure it's them, Lupin?" he growled. "It'd be a nice lookout if we bring back some Death Eater impersonating him. We ought to ask him something only the real Potter would know. Unless anyone brought any Veritaserum?"
"Harry and Delilah, what form do your Patronuses take?" said Remus.
"A stag," said Harry nervously.
"A fox," Delilah answered.
"That's them, Mad-Eye," said Remus.
Delilah kept her wand in her hand as she followed Harry down the stairs — she wasn't entirely sure this was legit — and noticed how everyone was watching Harry. Luckily they mostly ignored her, except for the witch with violet hair.
Delilah didn't get how he stood the attention people gave him, she much preferred the shadows, where she could do whatever she wanted without getting caught. Of course, she still didn't like being ignored completely, nobody did.
"Don't put your wand there, boy!" roared Moody as Harry put his wand in his back pocket. "What if it ignited? Better wizards than you have lost buttocks, you know!"
"Who d'you know who's lost a buttock?" the violet-haired woman asked Mad-Eye interestedly.
"Never you mind, you just keep your wand out of your back pocket!" growled Mad-Eye. "Elementary wand safety, nobody bothers about it anymore...." He stumped off toward the kitchen. "And I saw that," he added irritably, as the woman rolled her eyes at the ceiling.
Remus held out his hand and shook Harry's. "How are you?" he asked, looking at Harry closely. "F-fine..."
After he turned to Delilah, shaking her hand as well.
"And how are you? I haven't gotten many letters."
Harry perked at that, how had he not noticed that she had sent Remus letters? She knew he was oblivious, but she hadn't realized he was that blind.
"I'm — you're really lucky the Dursleys are out..." Harry mumbled.
"Lucky, ha!" said the violet-haired woman. "It was me that lured them out of the 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 the prize-giving right now.... Or they think they are."
Delilah smirked, just thinking of Uncle Vernon's face when he realized there was no All-England Best-Kept Suburban Lawn Competition.
"We are leaving, aren't we?" Delilah asked. "Soon?"
"Almost at once," said Remus, "we're just waiting for the all-clear."
"Where are we going? The Burrow?" Harry asked hopefully.
"Not the Burrow, no," said Remus, motioning Delilah and Harry toward the kitchen; the little knot of wizards followed, all still eyeing Harry curiously. "Too risky. We've set up headquarters somewhere undetectable. 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 labor-saving appliances.
"This is Alastor Moody, Harry, Delilah," Remus continued, pointing toward Moody.
"Yeah, I know," said Harry uncomfortably.
Delilah awkwardly stared at Moody. It felt odd to be introduced to somebody she'd thought she'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 Remus.
"So would you if your fool of a mother had called you 'Nymphadora,'" muttered Tonks.
"And this is Kingsley Shacklebolt" — he indicated the tall black wizard, who bowed — "Elphias Doge" — the wheezy-voiced wizard nodded — "Dedalus Diggle —"
"We've met before," squeaked the excitable Diggle, dropping his top hat.
"— Emmeline Vance" — a stately looking witch in an emerald green shawl inclined her head — "Sturgis Podmore" — a square-jawed wizard with thick, straw-colored hair winked — "and Hestia Jones." A pink-cheeked, black-haired witch waved from next to the toaster.
Delilah inspected all of them as Remus pointed them out. Most of them only acknowledged Harry except Tonks, who grinned at Delilah too. She grinned back.
"A surprising number of people volunteered to come and get you," Remus stated, smiling tiredly.
"Yeah, well, the more the better," said Moody darkly. "We're your guard, Potter."
"We're just waiting for the signal to tell us it's safe to set off," said Remus, glancing out of the kitchen window. "We've got about fifteen minutes."
"Very clean, aren't they, these Muggles?" said 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 like with wizards?"
"Er — yeah," said Harry. "Look" — he turned back to Remus — "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 dropped 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 pointing up at the ceiling. "Dam it," he added angrily, putting a hand up to the magical eye, "it keeps sticking — 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. Delilah wrinkled her nose.
"Mad-Eye, you do know that's disgusting, don't you?" said Tonks conversationally.
"Get me a glass of water, would you?" asked Moody.
Delilah quickly filled a glass of water and handed it to him. Some of the wizards and witches glanced at her before returning their attention to Harry, which must have started to annoy him.
"Cheers," said Moody, when Delilah handed him the glass. He dropped the magical eyeball into the water and prodded it up and down; the eye whizzed around, staring at them all in turn. "I want three-hundred-and-sixty degrees visibility on the return journey."
"How're we getting — wherever we're going?" Harry asked.
"Brooms," said Remus. "Only way. You're both too young to Apparate, they'll be watching the Floo Network, and it's more than our life's worth to set up an unauthorized Portkey."
"Remus says you're a good flier," said Kingsley Shacklebolt in his deep voice.
"He's excellent," said Remus, who was checking his watch. "Anyway, you'd better go and get packed, Harry, Delilah, we want to be ready to go when the signal comes."
"I'll come and help you," said Tonks brightly.
She followed them back into the hall and up the stairs, looking around with much curiosity and interest.
"Funny place," she said, "it's a bit too clean, d'you know what I mean? Bit unnatural. Oh, this is better," she added, as they entered their room and Delilah turned on the light.
It was, in fact, messier than the rest of the house. Harry had refused to pick up any of his stuff, he had been too angsty for that, so Delilah had moved all of his stuff to his half of the room. Her half wasn't the cleanest either, but at least it wasn't a hazard zone.
Delilah started to put everything in her trunk when Midnight moved off her neck and slithered up to Tonks.
"Who's this?" Midnight hissed.
Delilah smiled.
"Tonks."
Harry ignored them and continued packing.
"She's a strange one. Do shapeshifters taste good?"
Even though Delilah knew Midnight was teasing, Harry didn't. Apparently he somehow didn't know what sarcasm, and all its beauty, was.
"No!" Harry replied, glaring.
Delilah rolled her eyes and, for Tonks, switched back to English.
"Midnight was only joking, she seems to like Tonks."
Tonks grinned.
"That's great, cause I like her too."
Delilah smiled, hiding her shock. Most people were... surprised to see Midnight and usually freaked out the first few times.
"You know, I don't think purple's really my color," Tonks said pensively, tugging at a lock of spiky hair. "D'you think it makes me look a bit peaky?"
"Er —" said Harry. Delilah didn't respond.
"Yeah, it does," said Tonks decisively. She screwed up her eyes in a strained expression as though she were 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 reflection and turning her head so that she could see her hair from all directions.
"It means I can change my appearance at will," she added, spotting Harry's puzzled expression in the mirror behind her. "I was born one. I got top marks in Concealment and Disguise during Auror training without any study at all, it was great."
"You're an Auror?" said Harry, impressed.
Delilah couldn't help but share his feelings. Being an Auror was incredibly hard, dangerous, and required training after school.
"Yeah," said Tonks, looking proud. "Kingsley is as well; he's a bit higher up than I am, though. I only qualified a year ago. Nearly failed on Stealth and Tracking, I'm dead clumsy, did you hear me break that plate when we arrived downstairs?"
Ah, so that was who it had been.
"Can you learn how to be a Metamorphmagus?" Harry asked her, straightening up. Delilah kept packing.
Tonks chuckled.
"Bet you wouldn't mind hiding that scar sometimes, eh?" Her eyes found the lightning-shaped scar on Harry's forehead.
"No, I wouldn't mind," Harry mumbled, turning away. Delilah knew he didn't like people staring at his scar.
"Well, you'll have to learn the hard way, I'm afraid," said Tonks. "Metamorphmagi 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 up 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-mell into the trunk. Luckily Delilah had just finished, or their stuff would have probably gotten mixed up.
"It's not very neat," said Tonks, walking over to the trunk and looking down at the jumble inside. "My mum's 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 Delilah's socks gave a feeble sort of wiggle and flopped back on top of the mess within.
"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 — Scourgify —" She pointed her wand at Hedwig's cage; a few feathers and droppings vanished. "Well, that's a bit better — I've never quite got the hang of these sort of householdy spells. Right — got everything? Cauldron? Broom? Wow! A Firebolt?"
"And I'm still riding a Comet Two Sixty," said Tonks enviously. "Ah well . . . wand still in your jeans? Both buttocks still on? Okay, let's go. Locomotor Trunks. Wait, where's your broomstick?" Tonks added as their trunks rose a few inches into the air.
Delilah shrugged.
"Never was interested in playing, so I didn't get one."
Tonks frowned.
"Guess you'll just have to double ride with someone, probably Harry."
Holding her wand like a conductor's baton, Tonks made it hover across the room and out of the door ahead of them, Hedwig's cage in her left hand. Harry followed her down the stairs carrying his broomstick, Delilah right behind him. Back in the kitchen, Moody had replaced his eye, which was spinning so fast after its cleaning it Delilah had to look away. Kingsley Shacklebolt and Sturgis Podmore were examining the microwave and Hestia Jones was laughing at a potato peeler she had come across while rummaging in the drawers. Remus was sealing a letter addressed to the Dursleys.
"Excellent," said Remus, looking up as they entered the room. ""We've got about a minute, I think. We should probably get out into the garden so we're ready. Harry, Delilah, 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," Delilah said.
"— and you'll see them next summer."
"Do I have to?" Harry asked.
Remus smiled but made no answer.
"Come here, boy," said Moody gruffly, beckoning Harry toward him with his wand. "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 disguise you better. Here you go —" He rapped Harry hard on the top of the head and after a moment Harry faded into the background. Guess he'd see how it felt for the first time.
"Nice one, Mad-Eye," said Tonks appreciatively, staring at where Harry had been standing.
"Come on," said Moody, unlocking the back door with his wand.
They all stepped outside onto 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 going to be flying in close formation. Tonks'll be right in front of you, keep close 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 one 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 guards are standing by to take over; keep 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 the trunks and Hedwig's cage into a harness hanging from her broom.
"I'm just telling them the plan," growled Moody. "Our job's to deliver him safely to headquarters and if we die in the attempt —"
"No one's going to die," said Kingsley Shacklebolt in his deep, calming voice.
"Who am I doubling up with?" Delilah quickly asked.
"Better go with Harry," Tonks suggested.
"Mount your brooms, that's the first signal!" said Remus sharply, pointing into the sky.
Far, far above them, a shower of bright red sparks had flared among the stars. Delilah immediately recognized them as wand sparks.
Harry swung onto the Firebolt and Delilah climbed on behind him, her arms tight around his waist.
"Don't you dare go too fast," she muttered in his ear. He didn't respond.
"Second signal, let's go!" said Remus loudly, as more sparks, green this time, exploded high above them.
Harry kicked off hard from the ground. The cool night air rushed through Delilah's hair pushing it into her face as the neat square gardens of Privet Drive fell away, shrinking rapidly into a patchwork of dark greens and blacks. Delilah held in a scream. She hated flying, and had barely passed any of the exams.
"Hard left, hard left, there's a Muggle looking up!" shouted Moody from behind him.
Tonks swerved and Harry followed her. Delilah watched as their trunks swung wildly beneath her broom.
"We need more height.... Give it another quarter of a mile!"
Delilah's eyes watered in the chill as they soared upward; she could see nothing below now but tiny pinpricks of light that were car headlights and streetlamps. 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 nonexistent lawn competition....
Delilah smirked and tightened her arms around Harry's waist. They were going so fast... and were so high up. Delilah closed her eyes and focused on the chill of the wind. She couldn't bear heights. The World Cup had been fine, but only because there had been rails and she was far enough back not to worry about it but here...
Harry, for some reason, laughed aloud, and she could barely hear his voice, which was drowned by the flapping of the others' robes, the creaking of the harness holding his trunk and the cage, the whoosh of the wind in their ears as they sped through the air. If she fell would any of them hear her scream?
"Bearing south!" shouted Mad-Eye. "Town ahead!"
They soared right, so that they did not pass directly over the glittering spider web of lights below.
"Bear southeast and keep climbing, there's some low cloud ahead we can lose ourselves in!" called Moody.
"We're not going through clouds!" shouted Tonks angrily.
"We'll get soaked, Mad-Eye!"
Delilah was relieved to hear her say this; her hands were growing numb, and she could barely imagine how Harry's hands must feel on the Firebolt's handle. She wished she had thought to put on a coat; she was starting to shiver.
They altered their course every now and then according to MadEye's instructions. Delilah, for once, was glad that she was hidden behind Harry. The icy wind wasn't as strong, but her eyes were still screwed up against the rush of icy wind that was starting to make her ears ache. Harry must feel worse, he was in the front after all.
The guard around them was circling continuously like giant birds of prey. Delilah lost track of time. She wondered how long they had been flying; it felt like an hour, minimum.
"Turning southwest!" yelled Moody. "We want to avoid the motorway!"
Delilah was now so chilled that she thought longingly for a moment of the snug, dry interiors of the cars streaming along below, they probably would have been more efficient anyway.... No one would expect them to find a car and just drive away....
Kingsley Shacklebolt swooped around them, 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 them, 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 week! We're nearly there now!"
"Time to start the descent!" came Remus's voice. "Follow Tonks, Harry!"
Harry followed Tonks into a dive. Delilah tightened her grip around him even further. They were heading for the largest collection of lights she had yet seen, a huge, sprawling, crisscrossing mass, glittering in lines and grids, interspersed with patches of deepest black. Lower and lower they flew, until Delilah could see individual headlights and streetlamps, chimneys, and television aerials. She wanted to reach the ground very much, though she was sure that someone would have to unfreeze her from Harry's broom.
"Here we go!" called Tonks, and a few seconds later she had landed.
Harry touched down right behind her, and Delilah dismounted on a patch of unkempt grass in the middle of a small square, Harry right behind her. Tonks was already unbuckling their trunks. Shivering, Delilah looked around. The grimy fronts of the surrounding houses were not welcoming; some of them had broken windows, glimmering dully in the light from the streetlamps, paint was peeling from many of the doors, and heaps of rubbish lay outside several sets of front steps.
Where are we?" Harry asked, but Remus 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 into the air and clicking it.
The nearest streetlamp went out with a pop. He clicked the unlighter again; the next lamp went out. He kept clicking until every lamp in the square was extinguished and the only light in the square came from curtained windows and the sickle 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? Now, come on, quick."
He took Harry by the arm and led him from the patch of grass, across the road, and onto the pavement. Delilah, Remus, and Tonks followed, the latter two carrying Harry's trunk between 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 nearest 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 toward Harry's Disillusioned hand and holding his lit wand close to it, so as to illuminate the writing. "Read quickly and memorize."
After Harry stared at it Moody handed it to Delilah.
She looked down at the piece of paper. The narrow handwriting was vaguely familiar. It said:
The headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix may be found at number twelve, Grimmauld Place, London.