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Harry started picking up books and throwing them hastily into his trunk. Tonks paused at his open wardrobe to look critically at her reflection in the mirror on the inside of the door.
“You know, I don’t think violet’s really my colour,” she said pensively, tugging at a lock of spiky hair. “D’you think it makes me look a bit peaky?”
“Er—” said Harry, looking up at her over the top of Quidditch Teams of Britain and Ireland.
“Yeah, it does,” said Tonks decisively. She screwed up her eyes in a strained expression as though she was struggling to remember something. A second later, her hair had turned bubble-gum pink.
“How did you do that?” said Harry, gaping at her as she opened her eyes again.
“I’m a Metamorphmagus,” she said, looking back at her reflection and turning her head so that she could see her hair from all directions. “It means I can change my appearance at will,” she added, spotting Harry’s puzzled expression in the mirror behind her. “I was born one. I got top marks in Concealment and Disguise during Auror training without any study at all, it was great.”
“You’re an Auror?” said Harry, impressed. Being a Dark-wizard-catcher was the only career he’d ever considered after Hogwarts.
“Yeah,” said Tonks, looking proud. “Kingsley is as well, he’s a bit higher up than me, 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?”
“Can you learn how to be a Metamorphmagus?” Harry asked her, straightening up, completely forgetting about packing.
Tonks chuckled.
“Bet you wouldn’t mind hiding that scar sometimes, eh?”
Her eyes found the lightning-shaped scar on Harry’s forehead.
“No, I wouldn’t mind,” Harry mumbled, turning away. He did not like people staring at his scar.
“Well, you’ll have to learn the hard way, I’m afraid,” said Tonks. “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,” she added guiltily, looking around at all the mess on the floor.
“Oh—yeah,” said Harry, grabbing a few more books.
“Don’t be stupid, it’ll be much quicker if I—pack!” cried Tonks, waving her wand in a long, sweeping movement over the floor.
Books, clothes, telescope and scales all soared into the air and flew pell-mell into the trunk.
“It’s not very neat,” said Tonks, walking over to the trunk and looking down at the jumble inside. “My mums 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—it’s a kind of flick—” She flicked her wand hopefully.
One of Harry’s socks gave a feeble sort of wiggle and flopped back on top of the mess in the trunk.
“Ah, well,” said Tonks, slamming the trunk’s lid shut, “at least it’s all in. That could do with a bit of cleaning, too.” She pointed her wand at Hedwig’s cage. “Scourgify.” A few feathers and droppings vanished. “Well, that’s a bit better—I’ve never quite got the hang of these householdy sort of spells. Right—got everything? Cauldron? Broom? Wow!—A Firebolt?”
Her eyes widened as they fell on the broomstick in Harry’s right hand It was his pride and joy, a gift from Sirius, an international-standard broomstick.
“And I’m still riding a Comet Two Sixty,” said Tonks enviously. “Ah well… wand still in your jeans? Both buttocks still on? OK, let’s go. Locomotor trunk.”
Harry’s trunk rose a few inches into the air. Holding her wand like a conductor’s baton, Tonks made the trunk hover across the room and out of the door ahead of them, Hedwig’s cage in her left hand. Harry followed her down the stairs carrying his broomstick.
Back in the kitchen Moody had replaced his eye, which was spi
“Excellent,” said Lupin, looking up as Tonks and Harry entered. “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,” said Harry.
“—that you’re safe—”
“That’ll just depress them.”
“—and you’ll see them next summer.”
“Do I have to?”
Lupin smiled but made no answer.
“Come here, boy,” said Moody gruffly, beckoning Harry towards him with his wand. “I need to Disillusion you.”
“You need to what?” said Harry nervously.
“Disillusionment Charm,” said Moody, raising his wand. “Lupin says you’ve got an Invisibility Cloak, but it won’t stay on while we’re flying; this’ll disguise you better. Here you go—”
He rapped him hard on the top of the head and Harry felt a curious sensation as though Moody had just smashed an egg there; cold trickles seemed to be ru
“Nice one, Mad-Eye,” said Tonks appreciatively, staring at Harry’s midriff.
Harry looked down at his body, or rather, what had been his body, for it didn’t look anything like his any more. It was not invisible; it had simply taken on the exact colour and texture of the kitchen unit behind him. He seemed to have become a human chameleon.
“Come on,” said Moody, unlocking the back door with his wand.
They all stepped outside on to Uncle Vernon’s beautifully kept lawn.
“Clear night,” grunted Moody, his magical eye sca
“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,” said Tonks, as she strapped Harry’s trunk and Hedwig’s cage into a harness hanging from her broom.
“I’m just telling the boy the plan,” growled Moody. “Our job’s to deliver him safely to Headquarters and if we die in the attempt—”
“No one’s going to die,” said Kingsley Shacklebolt in his deep, calming voice.
“Mount your brooms, that’s the first signal!” said Lupin sharply pointing into the sky.
Far, far above them, a shower of bright red sparks had flared among the stars, Harry recognised them at once as wand sparks. He swung his right leg over his Firebolt, gripped its handle tightly and felt it vibrating very slightly, as though it was as keen as he was to be up in the air once more.
“Second signal, let’s go!” said Lupin loudly as more sparks, green this time, exploded high above them.
Harry kicked off hard from the ground. The cool night air rushed through his hair as the neat square gardens of Privet Drive fell away, shrinking rapidly into a patchwork of dark greens and blacks, and every thought of the Ministry hearing was swept from his mind as though the rush of air had blown it out of his head. He felt as though his heart was going to explode with pleasure; he was flying again, flying away from Privet Drive as he’d been fantasising about all summer, he was going home… for a few glorious moments, all his problems seemed to recede to nothing, insignificant in the vast, starry sky.
“Hard left, hard left, there’s a Muggle looking up!” shouted Moody from behind him. Tonks swerved and Harry followed her, watching his trunk swinging wildly beneath her broom. “We need more height… give it another quarter of a mile!”