aloft. She looked the youngest there; she had a pale heart-shaped face, dark twinkling
eyes, and short spiky hair that was a violent shade of violet. 'Wotcher, Harry!'
'Yeah, I see what you mean, Remus,' said a bald black wizard standing furthest back - he
had a deep, slow voice and wore a single gold hoop in his ear - 'he looks exactly like
James.'
'Except the eyes,' said a wheezy-voiced, silver-haired wizard at the back. 'Lily's eyes.'
Mad-Eye Moody, who had long grizzled grey hair and a large chunk missing from his
nose, was squinting suspiciously at Harry through his mismatched eyes. One eye was
small, dark and beady, the other large, round and electric blue - the magical eye that
could see through walls, doors and the back of Moody's own head. 'Are you quite sure it's
him, Lupin?' he growled. 'It'd be a nice lookout if we bring back some Death Eater
impersonating him. We ought to ask him something only the real Potter would know.
Unless anyone brought any Veritaserum?'
'Harry, what form does your Patronus take?' Lupin asked. 'A stag,' said Harry nervously.
That's him, Mad-Eye,' said Lupin.
Very conscious of everybody still staring at him, Harry descended the stairs, stowing his
wand in the back pocket of his jeans as he came.
'Don't put your wand there, boy!' roared Moody. 'What if it ignited? Better wizards than
you have lost buttocks, you know!'
'Who d'you know who's lost a buttock?' the violet-haired woman asked Mad-Eye
interestedly.
'Never you mind, you just keep your wand out of your back pocket!' growled Mad-Eye.
'Elementary wand-safety, nobody bothers about it any more.' He stumped off towards the
kitchen. 'And I saw that,' he added irritably, as the woman rolled her eyes towards the
ceiling.
Lupin held out his hand and shook Harry's. 'How are you?' he asked, looking closely at
Harry. T-fine…'
Harry could hardly believe this was real. Four weeks with nothing, not the tiniest hint of a
plan to remove him from Privet Drive, and suddenly a whole bunch of wizards was
standing matter-of-factly in the house as though this was a long-standing arrangement.
He glanced at the people surrounding Lupin; they were still gazing avidly at him. He felt
very conscious of the fact that he had not combed his hair for four days.
'I'm - you're really lucky the Dursleys are out…' he mumbled.
'Lucky, ha!' said the violet-haired woman. 'It was me who lured them out of the way. Sent
a letter by Muggle post telling them they'd been short-listed for the All-England Best
Kept Suburban Lawn Competition. They're heading off to the prize-giving right now… or
they think they are.'
Harry had a fleeting vision of Uncle Vernon's face when he realised there was no All-
England Best Kept Suburban Lawn Competition.
'We are leaving, aren't we?' he asked. 'Soon?'
Almost at once,' said Lupin, 'we're just waiting for the all-clear.'
'Where are we going? The Burrow?' Harry asked hopefully.
'Not The Burrow, no,' said Lupin, motioning Harry towards the kitchen; the little knot of