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Mad-Eye Moody was sniffing at a chicken-leg with what remained of his nose; evidently he could not detect any trace of poison, because he then tore a strip off it with his teeth.
“…the handles made of Spanish oak with anti-jinx varnish and in-built vibration control—” Ron was saying to Tonks.
Mrs. Weasley yawned widely.
“Well, I think I’ll sort out that Boggart before I turn in… Arthur, I don’t want this lot up too late, all right? Night, Harry, dear.”
She left the kitchen. Harry set down his plate and wondered whether he could follow her without attracting attention.
“You all right, Potter?” grunted Moody.
“Yeah, fine,” lied Harry.
Moody took a swig from his hipflask, his electric-blue eye staring sideways at Harry.
“Come here, I’ve got something that might interest you,” he said.
From an i
“Original Order of the Phoenix,” growled Moody. “Found it last night when I was looking for my spare Invisibility Cloak, seeing as Podmore hasn’t had the ma
Harry took the photograph. A small crowd of people, some waving at him, others lifting their glasses, looked back up at him.
“There’s me,” said Moody, u
Harry’s stomach, already uncomfortable, clenched as he looked at Alice Longbottom; he knew her round, friendly face very well, even though he had never met her, because she was the image of her son, Neville.
“—poor devils,” growled Moody. “Better dead than what happened to them… and that’s Emmeline Vance, you’ve met her, and that there’s Lupin, obviously… Benjy Fenwick, he copped it too, we only ever found bits of him… shift aside there,” he added, poking the picture, and the little photographic people edged sideways, so that those who were partially obscured could move to the front.
“That’s Edgar Bones… brother of Amelia Bones, they got him and his family, too, he was a great wizard… Sturgis Podmore, blimey, he looks young… Caradoc Dearborn, vanished six months after this, we never found his body… Hagrid, of course, looks exactly the same as ever… Elphias Doge, you’ve met him, I’d forgotten he used to wear that stupid hat… Gideon Prewett, it took five Death Eaters to kill him and his brother Fabian, they fought like heroes… budge along, budge along…”
The little people in the photograph jostled among themselves and those hidden right at the back appeared at the forefront of the picture.
“That’s Dumbledore’s brother Aberforth, only time I ever met him, strange bloke… that’s Dorcas Meadowes, Voldemort killed her personally… Sirius, when he still had short hair… and… there you go, thought that would interest you!”
Harry’s heart turned over. His mother and father were beaming up at him, sitting on either side of a small, watery-eyed man whom Harry recognised at once as Wormtail, the one who had betrayed his parents’ whereabouts to Voldemort and so helped to bring about their deaths.
“Eh?” said Moody.
Harry looked up into Moody’s heavily scarred and pitted face. Evidently Moody was under the impression he had just given Harry a bit of a treat.
“Yeah,” said Harry, once again attempting to grin. “Er… listen, I’ve just remembered, I haven’t packed my…”
He was spared the trouble of inventing an object he had not packed. Sirius had just said, “What’s that you’ve got there, Mad-Eye?” and Moody had turned towards him. Harry crossed the kitchen, slipped through the door and up the stairs before anyone could call him back.
He did not know why it had been such a shock; he had seen pictures of his parents before, after all, and he had met Wormtail but to have them sprung on him like that, when he was least expecting it… no one would like that, he thought angrily…
And then, to see them surrounded by all those other happy faces… Benjy Eenwick, who had been found in bits, and Gideon Prewett, who had died like a hero, and the Longbottoms, who had been tortured into madness… all waving happily out of the photograph forever more, not knowing that they were doomed… well, Moody might find that interesting… he, Harry, found it disturbing…
Harry tiptoed up the stairs in the hall past the stuffed elf-heads, glad to be on his own again, but as he approached the first landing he heard noises. Someone was sobbing in the drawing room.
“Hello?” Harry said.
There was no answer but the sobbing continued. He climbed the remaining stairs two at a time, walked across the landing and opened the drawing-room door.
Someone was cowering against the dark wall, her wand in her hand, her whole body shaking with sobs. Sprawled on the dusty old carpet in a patch of moonlight, clearly dead, was Ron.
All the air seemed to vanish from Harry’s lungs; he felt as though he were falling through the floor; his brain turned icy cold—Ron dead, no, it couldn’t be—
But wait a moment, it couldn’t be—Ron was downstairs—
“Mrs. Weasley?” Harry croaked.
“R-r-riddikulus!” Mrs. Weasley sobbed, pointing her shaking wand at Ron’s body.
Crack.
Ron’s body turned into Bill’s, spread-eagled on his back, his eyes wide open and empty. Mrs. Weasley sobbed harder than ever.
“R-riddikulus!” she sobbed again.
Crack.
Mr. Weasley’s body replaced Bill’s, his glasses askew, a trickle of blood ru
“No!” Mrs. Weasley moaned. “No… riddikulus! Riddikulus! RID-DlKULUS!”
Crack. Dead twins. Crack. Dead Percy. Crack. Dead Harry…
“Mrs. Weasley, just get out of here!” shouted Harry, staring down at his own dead body on the floor. “Let someone else—”
“What’s going on?”
Lupin had come ru
“Riddikulus!”
Harry’s body vanished. A silvery orb hung in the air over the spot where it had lain. Lupin waved his wand once more and the orb vanished in a puff of smoke.
“Oh—oh—oh!” gulped Mrs. Weasley, and she broke into a storm of crying, her face in her hands.
“Molly,” said Lupin bleakly, walking over to her. “Molly—don’t…”
Next second, she was sobbing her heart out on Lupin’s shoulder.
“Molly, it was just a Boggart,” he said soothingly, patting her on the head, “just a stupid Boggart…”
“I see them d-d-dead all the time!” Mrs. Weasley moaned into his shoulder. “All the t-t-time! I d-d-dream about it…”
Sirius was staring at the patch of carpet where the Boggart, pretending to be Harry’s body, had lain. Moody was looking at Harry, who avoided his gaze. He had a fu
“D-d-don’t tell Arthur,” Mrs. Weasley was gulping now, mopping her eyes frantically with her cuffs. “I d-d-don’t want him to know… being silly…”
Lupin handed her a handkerchief and she blew her nose.
“Harry, I’m so sorry. What must you think of me?” she said shakily. “Not even able to get rid of a Boggart…”
“Don’t be stupid,” said Harry, trying to smile.
“I’m just s-s-so worried,” she said, tears spilling out of her eyes again. “Half the f-f-family’s in the Order, it’ll b-b-be a miracle if we all come through this… and P-P-Percy’s not talking to us… what if something d-d-dreadful happens and we’ve never m-m-made it up with him? And what’s going to happen if Arthur and I get killed, who’s g-g-going to look after Ron and Gi
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