The darkness seemed to be rippling, the air itself quivering as the fourteen of then soared into the cool night sky of July. They were up and approaching the house upon Privet Drive while Mad-Eye barked out orders like they were all troops.
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.
Tori watched as Harry hurtled into their midst from down below. They all landed and there was a general cry of greeting as Hermione flung her arms around him, Ron clapped him on the back, and Hagrid said, "All righ', Harry? Ready fer the off?"
"Definitely," said Harry, beaming around at them all. "But I wasn't expecting this many of you!"
"Change of plan," 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. "Let's get undercover before we talk you through it."
Harry led them all back into the kitchen where laughing and chattering, they settled on chairs, sat themselves upon the 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; Tori, with her long black hair tied behind her face; 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 hound's eyes and matted hair.
"Kingsley, I thought you were looking after the Muggle Prime Minister?" Harry called across the room.
"He can get along without me for one night," said Kingsley, "You're more important."
"Harry, guess what?" said Tonks from her perch on top of the washing machine, and she wiggled her left hand at him; a ring glistened there.
"You got married?" Harry yelped, looking from her to Lupin.
"I'm sorry you couldn't be there, Harry, it was very quiet."
"That's brilliant, congrat—"
"All right, all right, we'll have time for a cozy catch-up later," roared Moody over the hubbub, and silence fell in the kitchen. Moody dropped his sacks at his feet and turned to Harry. "As Dedalus probably told you, we had to abandon Plan A. Pius Thicknesse has gone over, which gives us a big problem. He'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 mother's charm does that already. What he's really done is to stop you getting out of here safely."
"Second problem: You're underage, which means you've still got the Trace on you."
"I don't—"
"The Trace, the Trace!" said Mad-Eye impatiently. "The 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."
"We can't wait for the Trace to break, because the moment you turn seventeen you'll lose all the protection your mother gave you. In short, Pius Thicknesse thinks he's got you cornered good and proper."
"So what are we going to do?"
"We're going to use the only means of transport left to us, the only ones the Trace can't detect, because we don't need to cast spells to use them: brooms, thestrals, and Hagrid's motorbike. Now, your mother's charm will only break under two conditions: when you come of age, or"— Moody gestured around the pristine kitchen—"You no longer call this place home. You and your aunt and uncle are going your separate ways tonight, in the full understanding that you're never going to live together again, correct?"
Harry nodded.
"So this time, when you leave, there'll be no going back, and the charm will break the moment you get outside its range. We'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."
"The one thing we've got on our side is that You-Know-Who doesn't know we're moving you tonight. We've leaked a fake trail to the Ministry: They think you're not leaving until the thirtieth. However, this is You-Know-Who we're dealing with, so we can't rely on him getting the date wrong; he's bound to have a couple of Death Eaters patrolling the skies in this general area, just in case. So, we've given a dozen different houses every protection we can throw at them. They all look like they could be the place we're going to hide you, they've all got some connection with the Order: my house, Kingsley's place, Molly's Auntie Muriel's—you get the idea."
"Yeah," said Harry.
"You'll be going to Tonks's parents. Once you're within the boundaries of the protective enchantments we've put on their house you'll be able to use a Portkey to the Burrow. Any questions?"
"Er— yes," said Harry. "Maybe they won't know which of the twelve secure houses I'm heading for at first, but won't it be sort of obvious once"— He performed a quick headcount— "Fifteen of us fly off toward Tonks's parents?"
"Ah," said Moody, "I forgot to mention the key point. Fifteen of us won't be flying to Tonks'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."
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.
"No!" He said loudly, his voice ringing through the kitchen. "No way!"
"I told them you'd take it like this," said Hermione with a hint of complacency.
"If you think I'm going to let six people risk their lives—!"
"— because it's the first time for all of us," said Ron.
"This is different, pretending to be me—"
"Well, none of us really fancy it, Harry," said Fred earnestly. "Imagine if something went wrong and we were stuck as specky, scrawny gits forever."
Tori rolled her eyes as Fred grinned.
"You can't do it if I don't cooperate, you need me to give you some hair."
"Well, that's the plan scuppered," said George. "Obviously there's no chance at all of us getting a bit of your hair unless you cooperate."
"Yeah, fourteen of us against one bloke who's not allowed to use magic; we've got no chance," Tori said sarcastically.
"Funny," said Harry, "Really amusing."
"If it has to come to force, then it will," growled Moody, his magical eye now quivering a little in its socket as he glared at Harry. "Everyone here's overage, Potter, and they're all prepared to take the risk."
Mundungus shrugged and grimaced; the magical eye swerved sideways to glance at him out of the side of Moody's head.
"Let's have no more arguments. Time's wearing on. I want a few of your hairs, boy, now."
"But this is mad, there's no need—"
"No need!" snarled Moody. "With You-Know-Who out there and half the Ministry on his side? Potter, if we're lucky he'll have swallowed the fake bait and he'll be planning to ambush you on the thirtieth, but he'd be mad not to have a Death Eater or two keeping an eye out, it's what I'd do. They might not be able to get at you or this house while your mother's charm holds, but it's about to break and they know the rough position of the place. Our only chance is to use decoys. Even You-Know-Who can't split himself into seven. So, Potter-- some of your hair, if you please."
Harry glanced at Ron, who grimaced at him in a just-do-it sort of way.
"Now!" 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.
"Good," said Moody, limping forward as he pulled the stopper out of the flask of potion. "Straight in here, if you please."
Harry dropped the hair into the mud like liquid.
"Ooh, you look much tastier than Crabbe and Goyle, Harry," said Hermione, before catching sight of Ron's raised eyebrows, blushing slightly, and saying, "Oh, you know what I mean— Goyle's potion tasted like bogies."
"Right then, fake Potters line up over here, please," said Moody.
Ron, Hermione, Fred, George, and Fleur lined up in front of Aunt Petunia's gleaming sink.
"We're one short," said Lupin.
"Here," 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.
"I'm a soldier, I'd sooner be a protector," said Mundungus.
"Shut it," growled Moody. "As I'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. It'll be the protectors who have got the most to worry about, the Death Eaters want to kill them."
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.
"Altogether, then... brace yourselves. It tastes like goblin piss."
"Have a lot of experience with that, don't you Mad-Eye?" Fred asked. Mad-Eye only glared at him. Fred sighed, "Just trying to defuse the tension."
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, Hermione's and Fleur'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, "Wow— we're identical!"
"I dunno, though, I think I'm still better-looking," said Fred, examining his reflection in the kettle. "What do you think, Tori?"
"Bah," said Fleur, checking herself in the microwave door, "Bill, don't look at me— I'm 'ideous."
"Those whose clothes are a bit roomy, I've got smaller here," said Moody, indicating the first sack, "And vice versa. Don't forget the glasses, there's six pairs in the side pocket. And when you're dressed, there's luggage in the other sack."
Tori thought that this might just be the most bizarre thing she had ever seen, and she had seen some extremely odd things. She watched as Harry and his six doppelgangers rummaged in the sacks, pulling out sets of clothes, putting on glasses, stuffing their own things away.
"I knew Ginny was lying about that tattoo," said Ron, looking down at his bare chest.
"Harry, your eyesight really is awful," said Hermione, as she put on glasses.
Once dressed, the fake Harry's took rucksacks and owl cages, each containing a stuffed snowy owl, from the second sack.
"Good," said Moody, as at last seven dressed, bespectacled, and luggage-laden Harrys faced him. "The pairs will be as follows: Mundungus will be traveling with me, by broom—"
"Why'm I with you?" grunted the Harry nearest the back door.
"Because you're the one that needs watching," growled Moody, and sure enough, his magical eye did not waver from Mundungus as he continued, "Arthur and Fred—"
"I'm George," said the twin at whom Moody was pointing. "Can't you even tell us apart when we're Harry?"
"Sorry, George—"
"I'm only yanking your wand, I'm Fred really—"
"Enough messing around!" snarled Moody. "The other one-- George or Fred or whoever you are-- you're with Remus. Miss Delacour--"
"I'm taking Fleur on a thestral," said Bill. "She's not that fond of brooms."
Fleur walked over to stand beside him, giving him a soppy, slavish look. Tori glanced out the window, watching one of the black-winged horses. It was her first time ever actually seeing one.
"Miss Granger with Kingsley, again by thestral—"
Hermione looked reassured as she answered Kingsley's smile.
"Which leaves you and me, Ron!" said Tonks brightly, knocking over a mug tree as she waved at him.
Ron did not look quite as pleased as Hermione.
"An' you're with me, Harry. That all righ'?" said Hagrid, looking a little anxious. "We'll be on the bike, brooms an' thestrals can't take me weight, see. Not a lot o' room on the seat with me on it, though, so you'll be in the sidecar."
"That's great," said Harry. "What about Tori?" Harry asked, glancing over.
"I'll be on a broom next to you and Hagrid for extra help." Tori replied as one of the Harry's approached her. "I miss my old look. I was so much more handsome." Fred-Harry complained.
"Yeah, you were." Tori wrinkled her nose, smiling.
"We think the Death Eaters will expect you to be on a broom," said Moody, who seemed to guess how Harry was feeling. "Snape's had plenty of time to tell them everything about you he's never mentioned before, so if we do run into any Death Eaters, we're betting they'll choose one of the Potters who looks at home on a broomstick. All right then," He went on, tying up the sack with the fake Potters' clothes in it and leading the way back to the door, "I make it three minutes until we're supposed to leave. No point locking the back door, it won't keep the Death Eaters out when they come looking. Come on..."
Harry hurried to gather his rucksack, Firebolt, and Hedwig'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.
"Is this it? Is this Sirius's bike?"
"The very same," said Hagrid, beaming down at Harry. "An' the last time yeh was on it, Harry, I could fit yeh in one hand!"
Tori could not help but laugh as Harry 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 Hedwig's cage between his knees. He looked extremely uncomfortable.
"Arthur's done a bit o' tinkerin'," said Hagrid, quite oblivious to Harry's discomfort. He settled himself astride the motorcycle, which creaked slightly and sank inches into the ground. "It's got a few tricks up its sleeves now. Tha' one was my idea." He pointed a thick finger at a purple button near the speedometer.
"Please be careful, Hagrid," said Arthur, who was standing beside them, holding his broomstick. "I'm still not sure that was advisable and it's certainly only to be used in emergencies."
"All right, then," said Moody. "Everyone ready, please. I want us all to leave at exactly the same time or the whole point of the diversion's lost."
Everybody motioned their heads. Tori gripped her broom tightly, glancing over at Fred-Harry, who winked at her. Hagrid kicked the motorbike into life: It roared like a dragon, and the sidecar began to vibrate.
"Good luck, everyone," shouted Moody. "See you all in about an hour at the Burrow. On the count of three. One ... two. THREE."
There was a great roar from the motorbike, and Harry felt the sidecar give a nasty lurch. Tori rose up through the air with it, she trailed behind, glancing around at the others until they were deep into the sky.
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 screams, a blaze of green light on every side. Hagrid gave a yell and the motorbike rolled over. Tori lost any sense of where they were. Streetlights above her, yells around her.
"No-- HELP!" Harry shouted.
His broomstick spun, 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 second's relief, and then another burst of green light. The owl screeched and fell to the floor of the cage.
"No— NO!"
The motorbike zoomed forward; Tori glimpsed hooded Death Eaters scattering as Hagrid blasted through their circle.
"Hedwig— Hedwig—" Harry was shouting, but Tori was too busying trying to fight the Death Eater off to understand what he was talking about. She glanced over her 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.
"Hagrid, we've got to go back, we've got to go back!" Harry yelled over the thunderous roar of the engine, pulling out his wand. "Hagrid, TURN AROUND!"
"Hagrid! Harry, there's no time! Hagrid! Take Harry straight there! Don't stray! I'm going to go help—" there was a sudden bang from behind Tori and she tumbled off her broom.
"TORI!" She heard Harry scream as she fell into the dark sky. The wind hallowed all around her and the sky above what still bleeding with colors if spells being cast.
Tori shut her eyes, bracing an impact.
Was Harry off towards safety? Did they get the job done? As long as Harry's safe this is worth it.
No.
What do you mean 'no?'
No. This can't be it. This can't be the end. Think of something. THINK OF SOMETHING.
Tori's eyes flew open and in a moment of panicked she bellowed, "ARRESTO MOMENTUM!"
The world around her stopped as she laid there in the middle of the sky. Her back was to the ground and she promised herself she wouldn't look down. She only had another minute or so until she would continue falling again.
"Accio Broom!"
Her broom came soaring down to her as she began to pick up the pace and tumble through the sky. Tori grabbed it, swinging her foot over and regaining enough balance to soar upwards and back into battle.
it's starting!
i also want to thank you guys
FOR ALMOST ONE MILLION READS
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