Harry Potter 05 - Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix

lit wand 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.
    ‘F-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 wizards followed, all still eyeing Harry curiously. ‘Too risky. We’ve set up Headquarters somewhere undetectable. It’s taken a while …’
    Mad-Eye Moody was now sitting at the kitchen table swigging from a hip flask, his magical eye spinning in all directions, taking in the Dursleys’ many labour-saving appliances.
    ‘This is Alastor Moody, Harry,’ Lupin continued, pointing towards Moody.
    ‘Yeah, I know,’ said Harry uncomfortably. It felt odd to be introduced to somebody he’d thought he’d known for a year.
    ‘And this is Nymphadora –’
    ‘ Don’t call me Nymphadora, Remus,’ said the young witch with a shudder, ‘it’s Tonks.’
    ‘Nymphadora Tonks, who prefers to be known by her surname only,’ finished Lupin.
    ‘So would you if your fool of a mother had called you Nymphadora ,’ muttered Tonks.
    ‘And this is Kingsley Shacklebolt.’ He indicated the tall black wizard, who bowed. ‘Elphias Doge.’ The wheezy-voiced wizard nodded. ‘Dedalus Diggle –’
    ‘We’ve met before,’ squeaked the excitable Diggle, dropping his violet-coloured top hat.
    ‘Emmeline Vance.’ A stately-looking witch in an emerald green shawl inclined her head. ‘Sturgis Podmore.’ A square-jawed wizard with thick straw-coloured hair winked. ‘And Hestia Jones.’ A