( 𝔳𝔬𝔩𝔲𝔪𝔢 𝔦𝔦𝔦, 𝖈𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝖙𝖍𝖎𝖗𝖙𝖞-𝖙𝖍𝖗𝖊𝖊 ) — the advance guard
''Lower your wand, boy, before you take someone's eye out.''
''Professor Moody?''
''I don't know so much about ❛Professor❜. Never got round to much teaching, did I? Get down here, we want to see you properly.''
''It's all right, Harry. We've come to take you away.''
''P-Professor Lupin? Is that you?''
''Why are we all standing in the dark? Lumos.''
A wand tip flared, illuminated the hall with magical light. Startled, Evangeline blinked, crowded around the foot of the stairs with the rest of the Advance Guard. They were all gazing intently up at Harry, some craning their heads for a better look.
Remus stood nearest to him, explaining why he was quickly enveloped into a hug by his nephew. He smiled broadly at Harry, who tried to smile back through the shock.
The second he had noticed Evangeline, his arms were around her slim shoulders, nearly sending Dora flying into the front door. She gladly returned the embrace, gently patting the fifteen year old on the back.
''Oooh, he looks just like I thought he would,'' Dora mused, her hair short and spiky in a violent shade of violet. ''Wotcher, Harry!''
''This is Nymphadora Tonks, but you just call her Tonks,'' the brunette explained. ''Her mother is my first cousin once removed, which makes us second cousins. She is my friend, too, but not because we are related.''
Kingsley interrupted before the pure-blood went off on a tangent explaining any more of her complicated family tree again — only a few days ago she had recited her entire genealogy to Arthur, Bill, and Charlie. ''Yeah, I see what you mean, Remus. He looks exactly like James.''
''Except the eyes,'' Elphias surveyed. ''Lily's eyes.''
''Are you quite sure it's him, Lupin, Rosier?'' Moody 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?''
Remus sighed, keeping his eyes trained on Harry in an effort to prevent them from straying to the girl beside him. ''Harry, what form does your Patronus take?''
''A stag.''
''That's him, Mad-Eye.''
Harry ascended the stairs slowly, stowing his wand into the back pocket of his jeans whilst he walked.
''Don't put your wand there, boy!'' Moody roared. ''What if it ignited? Better wizards than you have lost buttocks, you know!''
''Who d'you know who's lost a buttock?'' Dora inquired interestedly.
''Never you mind, you just keep your wand out of your back pocket! Elementary wand safety, nobody bothers about it anymore . . . '' He stumped off towards the kitchen. ''And I saw that,'' he added irritably, in response to the two girl's eye roll and fit of giggles at the prospect of not having a bum.
''How are you?'' Remus asked, continuing to look closely at Harry.
''F-fine . . . ''
''They have not been feeding you very well, have they?'' Evangeline asked, holding Harry at an arm's length and checking him over. ''Not to worry, I am sure the Kreacher — the house-elf — will be delighted to whip you something up.''
Harry nodded contentedly, finally feeling at ease after a long while in the company of Remus and the brunette. ''You're really lucky the Dursley's are out . . . ''
''Lucky, ha!'' Dora grinned. ''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.''
''We are leaving, aren't we?'' He asked. ''Soon?''
''Almost at once,'' Remus reassured him. ''We're just waiting for the all-clear.''
''In the meantime, you might want to make sure Mundungus is not stealing the vision-telly,'' the pure-blood warned him, before eyeing the toaster across the hall and in the kitchen apprehensively. ''Or whatever that is.''
''He can have it for all I care. Where will we be going? The Burrow?''
''Not the Burrow, no. Too risky. We've set up headquarters somewhere undetectable. It's taken a while . . . ''
The rest of the introductions commenced in the kitchen, each earning an awkward inclination of Harry's head. Evangeline bumped her shoulder with his, pointing at Mad-Eye Moody, who was sat at the dining table drinking from his hip-flask and whizzing his magical eye about.
''A surprising number of people volunteered to come and get you,'' she informed, flicking a dish sponge in interest. ''You are still quite popular with some people, believe it or not, Harry.''
''Yeah, well, the more the better,'' Moody huffed darkly. ''We're your guard, Potter.''
''We're just waiting for the signal to tell us it's safe to set off,'' Remus glanced out of the window at the inky sky. ''We've got about fifteen minutes.''
''Very clean, aren't they, these Muggles?'' Dora called from the corridor, before coming into the room to poke Evangeline with a hoover handle. ''My dad's a Muggle-born and he's a right old slob. I suppose it varies, just like with wizards?''
''Er — yeah. Look, what's going on, I haven't heard anything from anyone, what's Vol—''
Several of the witches and wizards made hissing noises; Dedalus dropped his hat and Moody snarled at the Potter boy to shut up.
''What?''
''We're not discussing anything here, it's too risky,'' he told, turning his normal eye to Harry; his magical eye remained pointing up at the ceiling. ''Damn it. It keeps sticking — ever since that scum wore it—''
With a nasty squelching sound much like a plunger being pulled from a sink, he popped out his eye.
''Mad-Eye, you do know that's disgusting, don't you?''
''Get me a glass of water, would you, Harry?''
He crossed to the dishwasher, took out a clean glass, and filled it with water at the sink. All whilst being watched eagerly by the band of witches and wizards; their relentless staring was clearly starting to annoy him.
''Cheers,'' he uttered, dropping the magical eyeball into the water before prodding it up and down; the eye zoomed around, staring at all of them in turn. ''I want three hundred and sixty degrees visibility on the return journey.''
''How're we getting wherever we're going?''
''Brooms,'' Remus murmured, dreading the ride back for one reason and one reason only. Her. ''Only way. You're 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,'' Kingsley noted.
''He's excellent,'' the werewolf confirmed, checking his watch. ''Anyway, you'd better go and get packed, Harry, we want to be ready to go when the signal comes.''
''I'll come and help you,'' the bubbly witch offered brightly, before turning to the brunette. ''You coming?''
Evangeline followed the two back into the hall and up the stairs instantaneously, skirting past Remus in the doorway. As they crossed paths, there was an discernible tension in the air between them, like a magnet pulling and pushing at once.
She batted the thought out of her head, instead looking around the Muggle home with much curiosity and interest. It was a hundred times smaller than the wizarding homes she was used to; even the Burrow was spacious.
''Funny place,'' Dora commented. ''It's a bit too clean, d'you know what I mean? Bit unnatural. Oh, this is better,'' she laughed, as they entered Harry's bedroom and he turned on the light.
''If you think this house is too clean, you should have seen Rosier Manor. That place was as spick and span as Gringotts — the house-elves were constantly polishing away, on my mother's orders.''
The conversation turned to house-elves and Andromeda's — Dora's mother — childhood (she was Sirius' and Regulus' older cousin, and had two sisters of her own called Narcissa and Bellatrix).
Harry started picking up books and throwing them hastily into his trunk, careering through the mess in his room. Most of his belongings were strewn across the floor, Hedwig's cage needed cleaning out, and his wardrobe was ajar to reveal a jumbled mixture of Muggle clothes and wizard's robes.
''You know, I don't think purples really my colour,'' Dora complained, looking in the mirror and tugging at a lock of her hair. ''D'you think it makes me look a bit peaky?''
''Er—''
''Yeah, it does,'' she said decisively, before screwing up her eyes in a strained expression. A second later, her hair turned bubblegum-pink.
''How did you do that?'' Harry asked, gaping at her.
''I'm a Metamorphmagus. It means I can change my appearance at will. I was born one. I got top marks in Concealment and Disguise during Auror training without any study at all, it was great.''
''I wish I was as interesting as you two,'' Evangeline sighed. ''Currently, the most interesting thing about me is that I am wearing Sirius Black's jacket,'' she gestured at the leather resting on her shoulders; given the fact it was summer, and she was not planning to be riding a broom, she hadn't brought a jacket with her to Twelve Grimmauld Place.
''Maybe you should become an Auror,'' Dora suggested, bumping the younger girl's shoulder with her own. ''It'd be well fun going on missions together.''
''I cannot say I imagine myself staying a Charms professor for the rest of my life, but I do not think being a Dark wizard catcher is for me. It would be ironic though, would it not?''
''You're an Auror?''
''Yeah,'' she answered, 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?''
''That is not the only thing you broke today. You early knocked me down the stairs this morning, remember?''
Harry straightened up, completely abandoning his packing. ''Can you learn to me a Metamorphmagus?''
Tonks chuckled. ''Bet you wouldn't mind hiding that scar sometimes, eh?''
''No, I wouldn't mind,'' he mumbled, turning away again.
''Well, you'll have to learn the hard way, I'm afraid. 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.''
''Oh— yeah.''
''You can always grow your hair out like you did last year, Harry,'' the pure-blood consoled. ''Although I cannot say it was the neatest of hairstyles. Maybe Hermione will knit you a hat, like she did for Dobby.''
''I'd rather she doesn't.''
''You know, it'll be much quicker if I— pack!'' Dora cried, waving her wand in a long, sweeping movement over the floor.
Books, clothes, a telescope, and scales all soared into the air and flew pell-mell into Harry's trunk.
''It's not very neat. 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 — its a kind of flick—''
She flicked her wand hopefully; one of Harry's socks gave a feeble sort of wiggle and and flopped back on top of the mess within.
''Moody said we are not to use magic if we can help it, Dora.''
''Ah, well,'' she slammed the trunk's lid shut. ''What Mad-Eye doesn't know won't hurt him. At least its 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. ''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!''
Her eyes widened into the size of saucers as they fell onto the broomstick in Harry's right hand.
''And I'm still riding a Comet Two Sixty,'' she murmured enviously. ''Ah, well . . . wand still in your jeans . . . both buttocks still on? Okay, let's go. Locomotor Trunk.''
Harry's trunk rose a few inches into the air. Holding her wand like a conductor's baton, Dora made it hover across the room and out of the door in front of them, whilst Evangeline gingerly carried Hedwig's sage; she was a cute owl, but there were still some substances in the cage she'd rather not come into contact with.
Back in the kitchen, Moody had replaced his magical eye, which was spinning so fast it would make you feel sick if you looked at it for too long. Kingsley and Sturgis were examining the microwave, Hestia was laughing at a potato peeler, and Remus was writing a letter to the Dursleys.
''Excellent,'' he praised, his amber eyes momentarily falling onto the Rosier girl. ''We've got about a minute, I think. We should probably get out into the garden so we're ready. Harry, I've left a letter telling your aunt and uncle not to worry—''
''They won't.''
''That you're safe—''
''That'll just depress them—''
''And you'll see them next summer.''
''Do I have to?''
Lupin smiled, not giving him a straight answer. If it were up to him, Harry would never spend a single waking second with the Dursleys, but it was never up to him; it was always Dumbledore's decisions that took priority.
''Come here, boy,'' Moody said gruffly, beckoning Harry forward with his wand. ''I need to Disillusion you.''
''You need to what?''
''It is just a simple charm, Harry. You cannot use your Invisibility Cloak whilst flying; this will disguise you better.''
Moody rapped Harry hard on the head. Within seconds, there was clear space in the place that he previously occupied.
''Nice one, Mad-Eye.''
''Come along,'' Evangeline hummed, opening the back door quietly.
They all stepped outside onto Uncle Vernon's beautifully kept lawn; she made sure to dig her heels into the ground as hard as she could.
''Clear night,'' Moody complained. ''Could've done with a bit more cloud cover. Right, we're going to be flying in close formation. Tonks'll be right in front of you, keep close on her tail. Lupin'll and Rosier'll be together, 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 guard 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.''
''I'm just telling the boy the plan. Our job's to deliver him safely to headquarters and if we die in the attempt—''
''No one's going to die,'' Kingsley assured in his deep, calm voice.
''Mount your brooms, that's the first signal!'' Lupin spoke sharply, pointing into the sky.
Far, far above them, a shower of bright red sparks had flared among the stars. Evangeline swung her right leg over the broom, and instead of gripping onto the handle tightly, she had no choice but to wrap her arms around the muscular torso of the man in front of her. Both parties pretended the electric sparks between them were non-existent as Moody yelped.
''Second signal, let's go!''
The invigorating night air rushed through her hair as the neat square gardens of Privet Drive fell away, shrinking rapidly into a patchwork of dark greens and blacks. For a moment, she felt at peace in the vast, starry sky, until she remembered who she was holding onto — her life-line.
''Hard left, hard left, there's a Muggle looking up! We need more height . . . give it another quarter of a mile.
Evangeline's eyes watered in the chill as they soared upwards; she could see nothing below her but tiny pin-pricks of white light that emitted from car bonnet's and street lamps.
''Bearing south!'' Mad-Eye shouted. ''Town ahead!''
They soared right, so as not to pass over the glittering spider-web below, undoubtedly filled with Muggles who would be most concerned of flying brooms among the night sky.
''Bear southeast and keep climbing, there's some low cloud ahead we can lose ourselves in!''
''We're not going through clouds!'' Dora opposed angrily. ''We'll get soaked, Mad-Eye!''
Evangeline opened her mouth to agree, but closed it upon realising she was, in fact, not actually in charge of the broom. If Remus really wanted to, he could drive her straight into a strike of lightning — not that he would, of course, but it was the thought in her heat-oppressed head that counted.
They altered their course every now and then as per Moody's instructions. Her ears began to ache from the brisk wind, causing her to barely hear his next words.
''Turning southwest! We want to avoid the motorway!''
It might have been uncomfortable to spin around in fireplaces, but at least travelling by Floo powder was warm. Then again, she knew signing up to rescue the most wanted boy in Wizarding Britain was not going to be an easy task. Kingsley swooped around, bald pate and gold earring gleaming slightly in the moonlight . . . now Emmeline had her wand out, her head turning left and right . . . then she swooped over, to be replaced by Sturgis . . .
''We ought to double back for a bit, just to make sure we're not being followed!''
''ARE YOU MAD, MAD-EYE?'' Dora screamed from the front in protest. ''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 descent,'' Remus announced, his chest rumbling under the palm's of Evangeline's frost-bitten fingers. ''Follow Tonks, Harry!''
Harry followed Dora into a dive. They were heading for the largest collection of lights yet, a huge, sprawling, crisscrossing mass, glittering in lines and grids, interspersed with patches of deepest black.
''Here we go!'' Dora called, and a few seconds later she had landed.
Harry touched down right behind her and dismounted on a patch of unkempt grass in the middle of a small square. The half-blood was already unbuckling the Potter boy's trunk from her broom by the time Remus and Evangeline landed.
The pure-blood witch moved to get off straight away, keen to put as much distance between herself and the werewolf as possible. However, that proved to be difficult as she tried, and failed, to separate her inter-locked fingers.
''Here,'' he whispered, clasping his large and somehow warm hands into his own. They stayed like that for a long few seconds before he let go, albeit reluctantly. ''There you go.''
''Thank you,'' she muttered, not sparing him another glance as she approached Hedwig's cold cage.