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There was a bang and a scream of pain from Xenophilius.

“No… no… upstairs… Potter!”

“I told you last week, Lovegood, we weren’t coming back for anything less than some solid information! Remember last week? When you wanted to swap your daughter for that stupid bleeding headdress? And the week before”—Another bang, another squeal—“When you thought we’d give her back if you offered us proof there are Cumple”—Bang—“Headed”—bang—“Snorkacks?”

“No—no—I beg of you!” sobbed Xenophilius. “It really is Potter, Really!”

“And now it turns out you only called us here to try and blow us up!” roared the Death Eater, and there was a volley of bangs interspersed with squeals of agony from Xenophilius.

“The place looks like it’s about to fall in, Selwyn,” said a cool second voice, echoing up the mangled staircase. “The stairs are completely blocked. Could try clearing it? Might bring the place down.”

“You lying piece of filth,” shouted the wizard named Selwyn.

“You have never seen Potter in your life, have you? Thought you’d lure us here to kill us, did you? And you think you’ll get your girl back like this?”

“I swear… I swear… Potter’s upstairs!”

“Homenum revelio,” said the voice at the foot of the stairs. Harry heard Hermione gasp, and he had the odd sensation something was swooping low over him, immersing his body in its shadow.

“There’s someone up there all right, Selwyn,” said the second man sharply.

“It’s Potter, I tell you, it’s Potter!” sobbed Xenophilius. “Please… please… give me Luna, just let me have Luna…”

“You can have your little girl, Lovegood,” said Selwyn, “if you get up those stairs and bring me down Harry Potter. But if this is a plot, if it’s a trick, if you’ve got an accomplice waiting up there to ambush us, we’ll see if we can spare a bit of your daughter for you to bury.”

Xenophilius gave a wail of fear and despair. There were scurryings and scrapings. Xenophilius was trying to get through the debris on the stairs.

“Come on,” Harry whispered, “we’ve got to get out of here.”

He started to dig himself out under cover of all the noise Xenophilius was making on the staircase. Ron was buried the deepest. Harry and Hermione climbed, as quietly as they could, over all the wreckage to where he lay, trying to prise a heavy chest of drawers off his legs. While Xenophilius banging and scraping drew nearer and nearer, Hermione managed to free Ron with the use of a Hover Charm.

“All right,” breathed Hermione, as the broken printing press blocking the top of the stairs begin to tremble. Xenophilius was feet away from them. She was still white with dust.

“Do you trust me, Harry?”

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1. A vivid image of the shrieking, spitting portrait of Sirius’s mother that hung in the hall of number twelve, Grimmauld Place flashed into Harry’s mind. “I bet there has,” he said.
2. And then Harry heard a thin, piteous human scream from amidst the terrible commotion, the thunder of devouring flame.
3. And then, abruptly and shockingly amid the frozen silence, one of the dungeon doors on the left of the corridor was flung open and screams echoed out of it.
4. And then, out of nowhere, the pain in his scar peaked. As he clutched his forehead and closed his eyes, a voice screamed inside his head.
5. And there it was, scrawled right across a long list of antidotes.
6. Are There Any Messages for Me?
7. As Harry sat down, a furry ginger cat with a squashed face lumped onto his knees and settled there, purring.
8. At that moment there was a diversion in the form of a small, redheaded figure in a long nightdress, who appeared in the kitchen, gave a small squeal, and ran out again.
9. Aunt Petunia screamed.
10. Aunt Petunia uttered a soft scream.
11. Both Black and Lupin strode forward, seized Pettigrew’s shoulders, and threw him backward onto the floor. He sat there, twitching with terror, staring up at them.
12. Brow furrowed, Frank inclined his good ear still closer to the door, listening very hard. There was a pause, and then the man called Wormtail spoke again.

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