Away from the two remaining Death Eaters, Harry spat blood out of his mouth, pointed

his wand at the falling sidecar, and yelled, "Confringo!"

He knew a dreadful, gut-wrenching pang for Hedwig as it exploded; the Death

Eater nearest it was blasted off his broom and fell from sight; his companion fell back

And vanished.

"Harry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry," moaned Hagrid, "I shouldn'ta tried ter repair it

meself – yeh've got no room –"

"It's not a problem, just keep flying!" Harry shouted back, as two more Death

Eaters emerged out of the darkness, drawing closer.

As the curses came shooting across the intervening space again, Hagrid swerved

and zigzagged: Harry knew that Hagrid did not dare use the dragon-fire button again,

With Harry seated so insecurely. Harry sent Stunning Spell after Stunning Spell back at

their pursuers, barely holding them off. He shot another blocking jinx at them: The

Closest Death Eater swerved to avoid it and his hood slipped, and by the red light of his

next Stunning Spell, Harry saw the strangely blank face of Stanley Shunpike – Stan –

"Expelliarmus!" Harry yelled.

"That's him, it's him, it's the real one!"

The hooded Death Eater's shout reached Harry even above the thunder of the

motorbike's engine: Next moment, both pursuers had fallen back and disappeared from

View.

"Harry, what's happened?" bellowed Hagrid. "Where've they gone?"

"I don't know!"

But Harry was afraid: The hooded Death Eater had shouted, "It's the real one!";

how had he known? He gazed around at the apparently empty darkness and felt its

menace. Where were they?

He clambered around on the seat to face forward and seized hold of the back of

Hagrid's jacket.

"Hagrid, do the dragon-fire thing again, let's get out of here!"

"Hold on tight, then, Harry!"

There was a deafening, screeching roar again and the white-blue fire shot from the

exhaust: Harry felt himself slipping backwards off what little of the seat he had. Hagrid

flung backward upon him, barely maintaining his grip on the handlebars –

"I think we've lost 'em Harry, I think we've done it!" yelled Hagrid.

But Harry was not convinced; Fear lapped at him as he looked left and right for

pursuers he was sure would come. . . . Why had they fallen back? One of them had still

had a wand. . . . It's him. . . it's the real one. . . . They had said it right after he had tried to

Disarm Stan. . . .

"We're nearly there, Harry, we've nearly made it!" shouted Hagrid.

Harry felt the bike drop a little, though the lights down on the ground still seemed

Remote as stars.

Then the scar on his forehead burned like fire: as a Death Eater appeared on either

side of the bike, two Killing Curses missed Harry by millimeters, cast from behind –

And then Harry saw him. Voldemort was flying like smoke on the wind, without

Broomstick or thestral to hold him, his snake-like face gleaming out of the blackness, his

white fingers raising his wand again –

Hagrid let out a bellow of fear and steered the motorbike into a vertical dive.

Clinging on for dear life, Harry sent Stunning Spells flying at random into the whirling

Date: 2015-12-11; view: 586