Were now standing in the middle of a familiar small and shabby square. Tall, dilapidated

Houses looked down on them from every side. Number twelve was visible to them, for

They had been told of its existence by Dumbledore, its Secret-Keeper, and they rushed

Toward it, checking every few yards that they were not being followed or observed. They

Raced up the stone steps, and Harry tapped the front door once with his wand. They heard

A series of metallic clicks and the clatter of a chain, then the door swung open with a

Creak and they hurried over the threshold.

As Harry closed the door behind them, the old-fashioned gas lamps sprang into

Life, casting flickering light along the length of the hallway. It looked just as Harry

remembered it: eerie, cobwebbed, the outlines of the house-elf heads on the wall

Throwing odd shadows up the staircase. Long dark curtains concealed the portrait of

Sirius’s mother. The only thing that was out of place was the troll’s leg umbrella stand,

Which was lying on its side as if Tonks had just knocked it over again.

“I think somebody’s been in here,” Hermione whispered, pointing toward it.

“That could’ve happened as the Order left,” Ron murmured back.

“So where are these jinxes they put up against Snape?” Harry asked.

“Maybe they’re only activated if he shows up?” suggested Ron.

Yet they remained close together on the doormat, backs against the door, scared

To move farther into the house.

“Well, we can’t stay here forever,” said Harry, and he took a step forward.

“Severus Snape?”

Mad-Eye Moody’s voice whispered out of the darkness, making all three of them

jump back in fright. “We’re not Snape!” croaked Harry, before something whooshed over

Him like cold air and his tongue curled backward on itself, making it impossible to speak.

Before he had time to feel inside his mouth, however, his tongue had unraveled again.

The other two seemed to have experienced the same unpleasant sensation. Ron

was making retching noises; Hermione stammered, “That m-must have b-been the TTongue-

Tying Curse Mad-Eye set up for Snape!”

Gingerly Harry took another step forward. Something shifted in the shadows at

The end of the hall, and before any of them could say another word, a figure had risen up

Out of the carpet, tall, dust-colored, and terrible; Hermione screamed and so did Mrs.

Black, her curtains flying open; the gray figure was gliding toward them, faster and faster,

Its waist-length hair and beard streaming behind it, its face sunken, fleshless, with empty

eye sockets: Horribly familiar, dreadfully altered, it raised a wasted arm, pointing at

Harry.

“No!” Harry shouted, and though he had raised his wand no spell occurred to him.

“No! It wasn’t us! We didn’t kill you –“

On the word kill, the figure exploded in a great cloud of dust: Coughing, his eyes

Watering, Harry looked around to see Hermione crouched on the floor by the door with

Her arms over her head, and Ron, who was shaking from head to foot, patting her

clumsily on the shoulder and saying, “It’s all r-right. . . . It’s g-gone. . . .”

Dust swirled around Harry like mist, catching the blue gaslight, as Mrs. Black

Date: 2015-12-11; view: 671