She and Ted exchanged looks. A mixture of fear and guilt gripped Harry at the

Sight of their expressions, if any of the others had died, it was his fault, all his fault. He

Had consented to the plan, given them his hair . . .

"The Portkey," he said, remembering all of a sudden. "We've got to get back to

the Burrow and find out – then we'll be able to send you word, or – or Tonks will, once

she's –"

"Dora'll be ok, 'Dromeda," said Ted. "She knows her stuff, she's been in plenty of

tight spots with the Aurors. The Portkey's through here," he added to Harry. "It's

supposed to leave in three minutes, if you want to take it."

"Yeah, we do," said Harry. He seized his rucksack, swung it onto his shoulders. "I

–"

He looked at Mrs. Tonks, wanting to apologize for the state of fear in which he

Left her and for which he felt so terribly responsible, but no words occurred to him that he

Did not seem hollow and insincere.

"I'll tell Tonks – Dora – to send word, when she . . . Thanks for patching us up,

thanks for everything, I –"

He was glad to leave the room and follow Ted Tonks along a short hallway and

Into a bedroom. Hagrid came after them, bending low to avoid hitting his head on the

Door lintel.

"There you go, son. That's the Portkey."

Mr. Tonks was pointing to a small, silver-backed hairbrush lying on the dressing

Table.

"Thanks," said Harry, reaching out to place a finger on it, ready to leave.

"Wait a moment," said Hagrid, looking around. "Harry, where's Hedwig?"

"She . . . she got hit," said Harry.

The realization crashed over him: He felt ashamed of himself as the tears stung

His eyes. The owl had been his companion, his one great link with the magical world

Whenever he had been forced to return to the Dursleys.

Hagrid reached out a great hand and patted him painfully on the shoulder.

"Never mind," he said gruffly, "Never mind. She had a great old life –"

"Hagrid!" said Ted Tonks warningly, as the hairbrush glowed bright blue, and

Hagrid only just got his forefinger to it in time.

With a jerk behind the navel as though an invisible hook and line had dragged

Him forward, Harry was pulled into nothingness, spinning uncontrollably, his finger glued

to the Portkey as he and Hagrid hurtled away from Mr. Tonks. Second later, Harry's feet

Slammed onto hard ground and he fell onto his hands and knees in the yard of the Burrow.

He heard screams. Throwing aside the no longer glowing hairbrush, Harry stood up,

Swaying slightly, and saw Mrs. Weasley and Ginny running down the steps by the back

Door as Hagrid, who had also collapsed on landing, clambered laboriously to his feet.

"Harry? You are the real Harry? What happened? Where are the others?" cried

Mrs. Weasley.

"What d'you mean? Isn't anyone else back?" Harry panted.

The answer was clearly etched in Mrs. Weasley's pale face.

"The Death Eaters were waiting for us," Harry told her, "We were surrounded the

moment we took off – they knew it was tonight – I don't know what happened to anyone

Else, four of them chased us, it was all we could do to get away, and then Voldemort

caught up with us –"

Date: 2015-12-11; view: 732