MetaFic

“We think the Death Eaters will expect you to be on a broom,” said Moody, who seemed to guess how Harry was feeling. “Snape’s had plenty of time to tell them everything about you he’s never mentioned before, so if we do run into any Death Eaters, we’re betting they’ll choose one of the Potters who look at home on a broomstick. All right then,” he went on, tying up the sack with the fake Potters’ clothes in it and leading the way back to the door, “I make it three minutes until we’re supposed to leave. No point locking the back door, it won’t keep the Death Eaters out when they come looking … Come on …”

Harry looked down at the sidecar, frowning.  He was tired of being directed from one place to another without any say in the matter, and his feeling of resentment combined with his embarrassment to make him angrier than he had been since Dumbledore’s death.  He looked up and glared at his friends.  “Whose idea was this?”

“Mine,” Moody growled.

Undaunted, Harry turned to Hermione.  “And you knew all about it?”

She looked nervous and confused, but she nodded.

Harry looked directly into Moody’s real eye and snorted.  “Are you sure you’re that concerned about being attacked?  Don’t you think you’re forgetting a thing or two?”

The old Auror’s scowl made a frightful rictus of his scarred face.  “What’s that?”

“Look around.  Seven Harry Potters, yeah, that’s good.  Different ways to fly, that’s good, too.”  He glanced at Hermione again.  “But doesn’t something look a bit wrong about this?  Look around, go on.”

Moody’s good eye narrowed, but his magical eye spun wildly in every direction.  The others glanced at each other, various looks of confusion, suspicion, and disapproval on their dimly-lit faces.

To Harry’s relief, Hermione was the first to notice.  She clapped her hands to her mouth.  “How could I have been so stupid?” she moaned.

“What?” Moody barked.

Hermione shook her head and spoke in a very small voice.  “Harry’s broom.”

“That’s right,” Harry said harshly, cutting off any reply.  “We’ve got four of you lot on brooms, two on Thestrals, and Hagrid on the bike.  How bloody stupid is it going to look for me to be sitting in that sidecar carrying a broom?  You might as well wait for the Polyjuice to wear off and have us all fly together.  Any idiot would be able to tell which one’s me if I’m carrying a broom.”

“Blimey,” Fred said.  “The specky git is right.”

“What brooms are those?” Harry asked, waving at Arthur, Moody, Tonks, and Remus.  The four of them grudgingly displayed an assortment of brooms ranging from a Comet One-Eighty to a Cleansweep Six.

Harry shook his head.  “Throw the Comet away,” he instructed Remus.  “Which if you four is the best flier?”

“Nymphadora,” Moody said, a touch of respect in his voice.

Tonks glared at the other Auror, but she nodded.  “Can’t walk on my own two feet, but I can fly.”

“Take this,” Harry said, pushing his Firebolt at her.  “Pass that Cleansweep on.”

The four fliers shuffled brooms, and Remus threw the Comet he had been holding into the kitchen of Number Four.

“All right.  Good thinking, Potter,” Moody said, scanning the sky again.  “Now let’s-”

“Hang on,” Harry interrupted, his anger still seething.  “Can I ask why you’re all carrying stuffed copies of an animal that can fly better than any of us?”

Hermione groaned softly, and Harry barely managed to restrain himself from shooting her a scathing look.  Instead, he put Hedwig’s cage on the ground and knelt beside it.

“Hedwig,” he said, “we’re going to be leaving here, but it may be dangerous.  Like I said, you’re a better flier than any of us, so I think you can get to The Burrow on your own.”  She fluffed her feathers and looked at him steadily.  When Harry opened the door of her cage, Hedwig stepped out onto his proffered forearm.  “Be careful, Hedwig.  Wait around here until we’ve gone to make sure no one sees you leave.  Take as long as you need to get to The Burrow, even if you have to hide for a week.  If you can’t get there, go someplace else you feel safe, and find me later.  You can do that, right girl?”

Hedwig raised her beak and nipped softly at Harry’s ear.

“Go on, then.  See you soon.”

With a few silent beats of her wings, Hedwig flew into one of the Dursleys’ trees.  Then she hopped along a branch until she entered a dense patch of foliage.  Even her white plumage vanished amongst the moonlit leaves.

Harry stood up and placed the empty cage back inside the house.  “Get rid of those things.  They’ll only make it harder to fly.”

When all of the cages and stuffed owls were out of sight, Harry moved to stand next to the motorbike’s sidecar.  “All right, then.  If you lot are going to insist on doing this, let’s do it.”

Moments later, the motorcycle launched into the air.