"How was it?"
Standing in front of the villa's window, Jon and Joanne watched the family leave and suddenly asked Joanne.
"What do you mean?"
"I mean, do you have any inspiration?"
"No."
Joanne just shook her head.
Judging from her recent state, her writing had reached a bottleneck. Even if a large amount of content was submitted, and Hogwarts's strict monitoring network made the most complete records of her, she still couldn't write the end of the sixth book.
Dumbledore's death was indeed not something easy to write about. Jon understood this very well.
"But we don't have enough time. We have to finish the organization and application as soon as possible. I still need to rely on your book to open the world market!"
Only with this kind of foreshadowing could Jon have enough confidence and means.
In this world, most ordinary people were the type who liked to do whatever they wanted. They would often stop in front of things they yearned for, and the Magic Net couldn't forcibly transform them. The casualty rate was too high, so the loss outweighed the gain.
So in the end, he still had to put the core of his means on this book. Anyway, according to his memory, this book would definitely become popular.
However, Jon felt that this matter couldn't be written in a hurry.
"We still have enough time to write. At least we can release the first few books first."
Jon tilted his head and said, "But there's one more thing. I'll give you part of the access to the Magic Net. Those people's views will be fed back to you. I've asked the company to get you a large magic projector. It'll be here soon. You can watch it. Maybe it'll be better."
"Okay."
Joanne knew how important this matter was, so she wanted to do her best. Otherwise, she would have accepted the transformation into a Wizard long ago. She wouldn't have to go through so much trouble to deal with these things.
While they were discussing, Harry had already run upstairs to his bedroom. He rushed to the window just in time to see the Dursleys' car turn into the driveway and onto the road. In the back seat, Dedalor's top hat was between Aunt Penny and Dudley.
At the end of Privet Drive the car turned right, the windows glowed red in the slanting sun, and then disappeared.
Picking up Hedwig's cage, his crossbow and pack, Harry took one last look at the oddly neat bedroom, then stumbled down the stairs to the parlor, where he set the birdcage, broom and pack at the foot of the stairs.
The light quickly dimmed, and the living room appeared shadowy in the twilight.
There was silence, and it was strange for Harry to stand there and know that he was leaving the house for ever.
Long ago, when the Dursleys had gone out and left him alone, those hours of solitude had been a rare treat: a quick grab of something tasty from the fridge and then a dash upstairs to play on Dudley's computer or turn on the TV and switch on whatever channel he wanted.
When he thought of those times, an indescribable melancholy arose in his heart, as if he was thinking of a little brother that he had lost.
"Don't you want to see this place one last time?"
He asked Hedwig.
The owl was still sulking with its head under its wing.
"We'll never come here again. Don't you want to remember all those happy times?
I mean, look at this doormat in front of the door, and remember... Dudley vomited on it after I saved him from the Dementors... and he was grateful, would you believe it?
And last summer, when Dumbledore went through that front door... "
Harry's train of thought was broken. Hedwig did not help him find it, but kept her head under her wing.
"Down here, Hedwig —" Harry pulled open a door at the bottom of the stairs. "That's where I used to sleep!
You didn't know me then — God, it was so small, I don't remember... "
Harry looked at the piles of shoes and umbrellas, and remembered waking up every morning to look up at the bottom of the stairs, where a spider or two would hang.
During those days, he still didn't know his true identity. He still hadn't figured out how his parents had died, and he didn't understand why strange things kept happening around him.
Harry still remembered the dreams that had haunted him: the jumbles, the flashes of green light, and once — when Harry told it, Uncle Vernon had almost run him over — a light motorcycle that could fly...
Suddenly, there was a deafening roar from somewhere nearby.
Harry jerked upright and banged the top of his head on the low doorjamb.
He paused, cursed in Uncle Vernon's favorite vulgar language, and then stumbled back into the kitchen, holding his head in his hand as he looked out the window into the back garden.
The darkness seemed to ripple, and the air itself seemed to tremble.
Then, as the spell wore off, figures began to appear.
The most conspicuous of all was Hagrid, wearing a helmet and goggles, riding on a huge light motorcycle with a black sidecar.
Around him, the others dismounted from their flying brooms, and two of them dismounted from the bony, winged black horses.
Harry opened the back door and leapt between them.
There were greetings everywhere. Hermione threw her arms around him, Ron patted him on the back, and Hagrid said, "Well, Harry? Ready to leave? "
"Of course," Harry said, beaming at them all. "I didn't expect so many of you!"
"Change of plans," Mad Eye said gruffly.
The mad-eyed man said gruffly. Carrying two bulging bags, he scanned the darkening sky, the houses, and the garden at a dizzying speed. "Let's cover up first. I'll tell you the details later."
Harry led them all into the kitchen, where they sat in chairs, on Aunt Petunia's polished kitchen counter, or leaned against her spotless utensils, laughing and laughing.
Ron, tall and thin;
Hermione's thick hair was braided into a long braid at the back of her head.
Fred and George, grinning alike;
Bill, scarred and long-haired;
Mr. Weasley, kind-looking and balding, with spectacles a little crooked;
The mad-eyed man had been on the battlefield for a long time. He only had one leg, and the shiny blue demon eye in his eye socket was spinning non-stop.
Tonks, with short hair of her favourite shade of bright pink;
Lupin, more gaunt and thin;
Hibiscus, slender and beautiful, with long silvery hair;
Kingsley, bald, broad-shouldered and dark;
Hagrid, with shaggy hair and beard, standing hunched over, afraid to knock his head on the ceiling;
Mundungus Fletch, small, unkempt and wretched, with drooping eyelids like a hound's, and unkempt and tangled hair.
But the sight of it made Harry exhilarated, and delighted;
He really liked these people, and even liked Mundungus.
The last time they had met, Harry had wanted to strangle him.
"Aren't you looking after Prime Minister Muggle, Kingsley?"
"He can manage without me for an evening," said Kingsley. "You're more important."
"What do you think, Harry?"
Tonks, sitting on the washing machine, waved her left hand at Harry: a ring was twinkling.
"You're married?"
"I'm sorry you couldn't come, Harry. We didn't make it very public."
"That's wonderful. Congrats —"
"Well, well, we'll have a good chat when we have time!"
Moody roared in the midst of the clamor. The kitchen immediately quieted down. Moody threw the bag at his feet and turned to Harry. "Dedalor has probably told you that we had to give up our first plan. Pierce Cinckniss has made a big fuss of it.
He's made a lot of things illegal, and if caught, he'll go to jail. For example: connecting this house to the airnet, putting a door key here, or ghosting in and out.
He says he's doing it to protect you, to keep the Mysterians from catching you.
Nonsense. Your mother's spell has done that.
What he's doing is actually preventing you from getting out of here safely.
The second difficulty is that you're not of age, which means you still have the Trace on you. "
"I don't —"
"The Trace, the Trace!"
Said the mad-eyed man impatiently. "The spell that detects the magical activity of a Wizard under the age of seventeen. The Ministry of Magic uses it to find out that underage people are using magic!
If you, or someone around you, says a spell to get you out of here, Cinckniss will know, and so will the Death Eaters. "
"We can't wait for the Trace to disappear, because as soon as you turn seventeen, you'll lose all the protection your mother gave you.
In a nutshell, Piers Sinkness believes that you are at the end of the line. "
Harry couldn't help but agree with Cinckniss, whom he had never met.
"Then what do we do?"
"We can only use these means of transportation: the flying broom, the Nighthawk, and Hagrid's light motorcycle. Only they can't be detected by the Trace because they don't need a spell."
Harry saw a flaw in the plan, but he refrained from saying so that the mad-eyed man would have a chance to deal with it.
"Your mother's spell will break under two conditions: you're of age, or —"
Moody pointed to the spotless kitchen. "— you don't call this place home anymore.
You parted from your aunt and uncle to-night, and you both knew that you would never live together again, did you not? "
Harry nodded.
"So, once you leave this time, you'll never come back. The spell will break when you step out of its range.
We chose to break it early, because the Mystery Man is likely to come and get you when you turn seventeen. "
"We have an advantage, which is that the Mystery Man doesn't know we're coming to move you tonight.
We gave the Ministry false information: they thought you were leaving on the 30th.
But our opponent is the Mystery Man, and it's not enough to count on him to get the date wrong.
He'll definitely have two Death Eaters patrol the area, just in case.
So, we've taken the best protection measures for a dozen houses.
They all look like places we're going to hide you, and they all have some connection to the Phoenix Society: my house, Kingsley's house, Molly's Aunt Muriel's house — you know what that means, right? "
"Yes."
Harry was not being entirely truthful. He still saw a big flaw in the plan.
"You go to Tonks's parents' house, and once you enter the range of the protective spell we've set on the house, you can use a door key to move to the Burrow. Is there a problem?"
"Uh — yes, maybe they don't know which of the twelve safe houses I'm going to at first, but —"
He quickly counted the number of people and said, "— the fourteen of us are flying to Tonks's parents' house. Isn't it obvious at a glance?"
"Ah, I forgot to mention the key point.
Not all of us are flying to Tonks's parents' house.
Tonight, there will be seven Harry Potters flying in the sky, each with a companion, and each group will fly to a different safe house. "
Moody took out a bottle of mud-like substance from his cloak.
Without needing to say another word, Harry immediately understood the whole plan.
"No!" he said loudly, his voice echoing in the kitchen, "No!"
"I told you he'd react this way."
"If you think I'll let six people risk their lives —"
"— this is the first time for us."
"It's different, pretending to be me —"
"Well, actually, none of us like it, Harry," Fred said seriously.
Fred said solemnly, "Imagine if there is a malfunction and we can't change back, we will forever be little idiots with freckles all over our faces and bones."
"If I don't cooperate, you can't do it. You'll need a few strands of my hair."
"Yes, and then the whole plan will be ruined," George said.
"If you don't cooperate, we obviously won't get a single strand of your hair at all."
"Yes, thirteen against one, and one who can't use magic yet. We're hopeless. "
"Ridiculous," said Harry. "It's ridiculous."
"If it's necessary to use force, come on," Moody roared.
He glared at Harry, his magic eyes trembling slightly in their sockets.
"Everyone here is of legal age, Potter, and they're all prepared to take the risk."
Mundungus shrugged his shoulders and grimaced.
Moody's magic eyes swiveled and glared at him from the side of his head.
"Don't argue any more. Time's limited. I need a few strands of your hair, boy, quickly. "
"But it's ridiculous. There's no need to —"
"No need?!"
Moody roared. "There's Mystery Man out there, and half of the Ministry of Magic is on his side.
Potter, if we're lucky, he'll believe the false information and plan an ambush for you on the 30th. But he'll definitely arrange for one or two Death Eaters to watch you, unless he's out of his mind. I'd do the same.
With your mother's charm, they probably can't do anything to you or this house, but the charm will wear off soon, and they know the general location of the house.
Our only chance is to use a double. Even the Mystery Man can't divide himself into seven parts. "
Harry met Hermione's eyes and quickly looked away.
"So, Potter — please, give me a few strands of hair."
Harry looked at Ron, who made a face at him, as if to say, "Just do it."
"Hurry up!" Moody roared.
In full view, Harry reached out and grabbed a handful of hair on top of his head and pulled a few strands off.
"Very good," Moody said as he limped forward and pulled out the cork of the magic potion bottle. "Excuse me, put it in here."
Harry threw the strands of hair into the mud-like liquid. As soon as the hair touched the surface of the liquid, the magic potion began to bubble and smoke, turning a clear gold in the blink of an eye.
"Oh, Harry, you smell much better than Crabbe and Gore," said Hermione. She saw Ron raise his eyebrows and blush slightly. "Oh, you know what I mean — Gore's potion is like dry booger."
"Well, well, please, fake Potter, line up here."
Ron, Hermione, Fred, George, and Fleur stood in a line in front of Aunt Petunia's shiny sink.
"There's one missing."
"Here."
Hagrid said gruffly, grabbing Mundungus by the scruff of his neck and throwing him beside Fleur. Fleur wrinkled her nose visibly and went to stand between Fred and George.
"I told you, I'd rather be the protector."
"Shut up," Moody roared. "You boneless reptile, I told you, no matter which Death Eaters we meet, their goal is to capture Potter, not kill him.
Dumbledore always said that the Mystery Man wanted to kill Potter himself.
The bodyguards are the ones we need to worry about the most. The Death Eaters don't leave the bodyguards alive. "
Mundungus did not seem to be completely reassured, but Moody had already taken out six glasses the size of eggcups from his cloak and distributed them to everyone. Then he poured a little of the concoction into each glass.
"Ready — drink …"
Ron, Hermione, Fred, George, Fleur, and Mundungus drank at the same time.
As the magic potion stimulated their throats, they all gasped for breath and grimaced.
Suddenly, their facial features began to wriggle and change shape like heated wax.
Hermione and Mundungus grew taller, while Ron, Fred, and George shrank shorter and shorter.
Their hair turned black, and Hermione's and Fleur's hair seemed to be quickly jumping back into their scalps.
Moody was indifferent to this scene and was undoing the straps of the two large bags he had brought.
When he straightened up, there were six Harry Potters in front of him, panting heavily.
Fred and George turned to look at each other and said at the same time, "Wow — we look exactly the same!"
"I don't think so, I look better."
Fred used the kettle as a mirror and said.
"Ouch," Fleur looked at herself in front of the microwave door. "Bill, don't look at me — I'm so ugly."
"Whose clothes are too big? I have small ones here." Moody pointed to the first pocket and said, "Whose clothes are too small? I have big ones here. Don't forget the glasses, there are six pairs in the side pocket. When you're dressed, there's luggage in the other pocket. "
Harry felt that although he had seen some extremely strange things, this scene in front of him was probably the strangest he had ever seen.
He watched his six doubles rummaging in the pockets, pulling out suits of clothes, putting on glasses, and shoving their own things aside.
He was tempted to ask them for a little respect for his privacy, for they had all begun to undress without scruples, displaying his body with an apparent carelessness that they certainly would not have done with their own bodies.
"I knew Ginny was lying when she said you had a tattoo."
"Harry, your eyesight is terrible."
The fake Harleys finished dressing, and from the second pocket pulled out knapsacks and owl cages, each containing a peeled snow curl specimen.
"Very well," said Moody, seeing seven neatly dressed, spectacled, and baggage-carrying Harleys standing in front of him at last. "The grouping is like this: Mundungus is with me, riding brooms-"
"Why am I with you?"
"Because you're the only one who needs to be watched," roared Moody.
Moody roared. As he spoke, the magic eye never left Mondungus. "Arthur and Fred —"
"I'm George," said the twin Moody was pointing to. "Why can't you tell us apart when we're Harry?"
"Sorry, George —"
"I'm just kidding. Actually, I'm Fred —"
"Don't be ridiculous!"
Growled Moody angrily. "The other one — whoever it is — is with Remus. Miss Delacourt — "
"I'll take Fleur on the Nighthawk," said Bill. "She doesn't like the broomstick very much."
Fleur went to stand beside Bill and looked at him with an affectionate, timid look that Harry hoped from the bottom of his heart would never appear on his face again.
"Miss Granger and Kingsley, on the Nighthawk —"
Hermione looked at the smiling Kingsley and seemed reassured.
Harry knew that Hermione was not confident about riding the broomstick either.
"It's just you and me now, Ron!"
Said Tonks cheerfully. She waved at Ron and knocked over a cup holder.
Ron did not look as happy as Hermione.
"You follow me, Harry. All right? "
Said Hagrid, looking a little worried. "The broomstick and the Nighthawk can't hold my weight when we're on the motorcycle. But there's not much room when I'm on the motorcycle, so you sit in the sidecar. "
"That's great."
"We're guessing that the Death Eaters will think that you're riding the broomstick."
Moody seemed to have guessed Harry's feelings and said, "Snape has plenty of time to tell them about you that he didn't mention before. So, if we meet the Death Eaters, they'll definitely choose Potter, who's very good at riding the broomstick.
Alright, "he said as he fastened the pocket with the fake Potter clothes and led everyone to the door." We'll leave in three minutes.
Don't lock the back door. If the Death Eaters want to search, the lock won't stop them … Come on … "
Harry hurried to the living room to get his backpack, crossbow and Hedwig's cage, and then followed everyone to the dark back garden.
Beside him, broomsticks jumped into people's hands. Hermione was already sitting on the back of a huge black Nighthawk with Kingsley's help, while Bill helped Fleur onto another Nighthawk.
Hagrid, wearing goggles, stood beside the light motorcycle, ready to go.
"Is this it? This is Sirius' motorcycle? "
"This is it," Hagrid said as he smiled down at Harry. "Harry, the last time you rode it, I could lift you up with one hand!"
Harry climbed into the sidecar and couldn't help but feel a little embarrassed.
This way, he was several heads shorter than the others. Ron couldn't help but laugh when he saw Harry sitting like a child in a bumper car.
Harry stuffed his backpack and broomstick at his feet and held Hedwig's cage between his knees. It was really uncomfortable.
"Arthur did some tinkering."
Hagrid didn't seem to notice Harry's discomfort and continued.
He stepped onto the motorcycle, which creaked and sank a few inches into the ground.
"Now there are a few mechanisms on the handle. This thing was my idea. "
He tapped a purple button next to the odometer with his thick finger.
"Be careful, Hagrid," Mr. Weasley said as he stood beside them, holding his broomstick. "I'm still not sure if this is a wise choice. Only use it as a last resort."
"All right, all right, everyone get ready. I want everyone to leave at the same time, or the entire containment strategy will fail. "
Everyone got on their broomsticks.
"Hold on tight, Ron," Tonks said.
Harry saw Ron sneak a guilty glance at Lupin, and then put his arms around Tonks' waist.
Hagrid kicked the motorcycle and started it.
The bike roared like a fiery dragon, and the sidecar shook.
"Good luck, everyone!"
Moody shouted.
"Meet at the Burrow in an hour or so. I'll count to three.
One...
Two...
Three! "
The motorcycle roared, and Harry felt the sidecar tip dangerously to one side.
He raced through the night sky, his eyes watering, his hair blowing back.
Around him, broomsticks rose into the air, and the long black tail of a nighthawed past.
They flew higher and higher in the air —
The cold wind howled, and it was not a comfortable feeling.
Below them, in the villa, Jon was adjusting the machine for Joanne. Joanne saw Hedwig fall and couldn't help but cry out.
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