the last verse ; harry potter [2]

two ; seeing double

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In the cramped living room of the Burrow, in between littered knick-knacks and an odd assortment of magical cookbooks, the Order, tasked with rescuing Harry and bringing him to safety, sat patiently about.

In the middle, standing broadly next to the rigid form of Mad-Eye Moody, whose magical blue eye whizzed in dizzying circles, was Diana Riddle. Strewn around them were not the faces of terrified weaklings; these were the faces of warriors in battle, eyes hardened like stone and forms strong and tall, ready for bloodshed.

There was Fleur and Bill, seated patiently on the sofa, with Mr. Weasley leaning on the arm. Kingsley Shacklebolt stood at the side of Mundungus Fletcher, poised to pounce if he stepped out of line. Hermione and Ron stood, too, watching their two commanders in the center. The twins watched eagerly, and Lupin was sagged into the nearest armchair, though Tonks sat on his lap comfortably, having already adjusted to their new marriage. Lastly, the hefty Rubeus Hagrid all but knelt in the doorway, his body crunched to avoid hitting his head on the ceiling. Ginny sat nearby, but only to listen with curious interest.

"Dedalus and Hestia are on their way for the Muggles," Mad-Eye said, referring to Harry's family. "They're taking them to the safe house."

"It's going to be dangerous," Diana said, her eyes trailing over each face. The scarred, the nervous, the hesitant, the brave: those were the faces surrounding her now, all with the hardened glint of those pressed for urgency. "If for any reason--though, hopefully it won't come to this--we're to be attacked, it is of utmost importance that we get to each of our designated locations."

Moody grunted in agreement. "Be prepared for anything, soldiers. Prepare for the worst, but hope for the best."

Diana pondered idly for a moment if Mad-Eye had ever done such a thing as 'hope for the best.' He didn't seem like the type to be driven by such a trivial and silly thing as hope.

"Do you have the Polyjuice potion?" Diana muttered quietly to Moody. He gave a single jerk of the head.

They all clambered out of the precariously-tilted burrow and into the grassy lawn, where a handful of Thestrals grazed. Nearby, Hagrid's gigantic, magical motorbike gleamed with the low sidecar fitted tightly at its side. A few brooms were leaned against the external wall of the dwelling, and each pair moved to their designated transportation. Diana seized a broom, for she was to be alone, and in the corner of her eye watched Mad-Eye seize a twitchy Mundungus by the back of his collar.

"Make sure you get to your Portkey in time," Moody called, adjusting the sack on his back containing the clothes for the mission. "If you don't, you're as good as dead."

Just before the broom-riders kicked off the the ground, just before the Thestrals extended their leathery wings, just before the rumbling of the motorbike cut through the air, and just before each person cast a Disillusionment charm on themselves, Diana turned to Mad-Eye.

"Good luck, Alastor."

"You too, kid. Remember, constant vigilance."

++

Their windy journey, hindered only by the icy chill of the sky, was quick and uninterrupted. They were  not as worried of an attack as long as Harry was not in their midst; but he soon would be, and Diana's heart thumped at the thought.

Nearing a cookie-cut neighborhood below, they began to descend, nearing closer and closer to the back garden of one of the identical houses. Hagrid's bike roared, surely waking the neighbors. One by one, they approached the ground, and popped into sight as their Disillusionment charms were lifted.