“You’re too—” Harry began, but Ginny said fiercely, “I’m three years older than you were when you fought You-Know-Who over the Philosopher’s Stone, and it’s because of me that Malfoy’s stuck back in Umbridge’s office with giant flying bogies attacking him—”
“Yeah, but—”
“We were all in the D.A. together,” said Neville quietly. “It was all supposed to be about fighting You-Know-Who, wasn’t it? And this is the first chance we’ve had to do something real—or was that all just a game or something?”
“No—of course it wasn’t—” said Harry impatiently.
“Then we should come too,” said Neville simply. “We want to help.”
“That’s right,” said Luna, smiling happily.
Harry’s eyes met Ron’s. He knew Ron was thinking exactly what he was: if he could have chosen any members of the D.A., in addition to himself, Ron and Hermione, to join him in the attempt to rescue Sirius, he would not have picked Ginny, Neville or Luna.
“Well, it doesn’t matter, anyway,” said Harry through gritted teeth, “because we still don’t know how to get there—”
“I thought we’d settled that,” said Luna maddeningly. “We’re flying!”
“Look,” said Ron, barely containing his anger, “you might be able to fly without a broomstick but the rest of us can’t sprout wings whenever we—”
“There are ways of flying other than with broomsticks,” said Luna serenely.
“I ’s’pose we’re going to ride on the back of the Kacky Snorgle or whatever it is?” Ron demanded.
“The Crumple-Horned Snorkack can’t fly,” said Luna in a dignified voice, “but they can, and Hagrid says they’re very good at finding places their riders are looking for.”
Harry whirled round. Standing between two trees, their white eyes gleaming eerily, were two Thestrals, watching the whispered conversation as though they understood every word.
“Yes!” he whispered, moving towards them. They tossed their reptilian heads, throwing back long black manes, and Harry stretched out his hand eagerly and patted the nearest one’s shining neck; how could he ever have thought them ugly?
“Is it those mad horse things?” said Ron uncertainly, staring at a point slightly to the left of the Thestral Harry was patting. “Those ones you can’t see unless you’ve watched someone snuff it?”
“Yeah,” said Harry.
“How many?”
“Just two.”
“Well, we need three,” said Hermione, who was still looking a little shaken, but determined just the same.
“Four, Hermione,” said Ginny, scowling.
“I think there are six of us, actually,” said Luna calmly, counting.
“Don’t be stupid, we can’t all go!” said Harry angrily. “Look, you three—” he pointed at Neville, Ginny and Luna, “you’re not involved in this, you’re not—”
They burst into more protests. His scar gave another, more painful, twinge. Every moment they delayed was precious; he did not have time to argue.
“OK, fine, it’s your choice,” he said curtly, “but unless we can find more Thestrals you’re not going to be able—”
“Oh, more of them will come,” said Ginny confidently, who like Ron was squinting in quite the wrong direction, apparently under the impression that she was looking at the horses.
“What makes you think that?”
“Because, in case you hadn’t noticed, you and Hermione are both covered in blood,” she said coolly, “and we know Hagrid lures Thestrals with raw meat. That’s probably why these two turned up in the first place.”
Harry felt a soft tug on his robes at that moment and looked down to see the closest Thestral licking his sleeve, which was damp with Grawp’s blood.
“OK, then,” he said, a bright idea occurring, “Ron and I will take these two and go ahead, and Hermione can stay here with you three and she’ll attract more Thestrals—”
“I’m not staying behind!” said Hermione furiously.
“There’s no need,” said Luna, smiling. “Look, here come more now… you two must really smell…”
Harry turned: no fewer than six or seven Thestrals were picking their way through the trees, their great leathery wings folded tight to their bodies, their eyes gleaming through the darkness. He had no excuse now.
“All right,” he said angrily, “pick one and get on, then.”
34. THE DEPARTMENT OF MYSTERIES
Harry wound his hand tightly into the mane of the nearest Thestral, placed a foot on a stump nearby and scrambled clumsily on to the horses silken back. It did not object, but twisted its head around, fangs bared, and attempted to continue its eager licking of his robes.
He found there was a way of lodging his knees behind the wing joints that made him feel more secure, then looked around at the others. Neville had heaved himself over the back of the next Thestral and was now attempting to swing one short leg over the creature’s back. Luna was already in place, sitting side-saddle and adjusting her robes as though she did this every day. Ron, Hermione and Ginny, however, were still standing motionless on the spot, open-mouthed and staring.
“What?” he said.
“How’re we supposed to get on?” said Ron faintly. “When we can’t see the things?”
“Oh, it’s easy,” said Luna, sliding obligingly from her Thestral and marching over to him, Hermione and Ginny. “Come here…”
She pulled them over to the other Thestrals standing around and one by one managed to help them on to the back of their mount. All three looked extremely nervous as she wound their hands into their horses mane and told them to grip tightly before she got back on to her own steed.
“This is mad,” Ron murmured, moving his free hand gingerly up and down his horse’s neck. “Mad… if I could just see it—”
“You’d better hope it stays invisible,” said Harry darkly. “We all ready, then?”
They all nodded and he saw five pairs of knees tighten beneath their robes.
“OK…”
He looked down at the back of his Thestral’s glossy black head and swallowed.
“Ministry of Magic, visitors’ entrance, London, then,” he said uncertainly. “Er… if you know… where to go…”
For a moment Harry’s Thestral did nothing at all; then, with a sweeping movement that nearly unseated him, the wings on either side extended; the horse crouched slowly, then rocketed upwards so fast and so steeply that Harry had to clench his arms and legs tightly around the horse to avoid sliding backwards over its bony rump. He closed his eyes and pressed his face down into the horse’s silky mane as they burst through the topmost branches of the trees and soared out into a blood-red sunset.
Harry did not think he had ever moved so fast: the Thestral streaked over the castle, its wide wings hardly beating; the cooling air was slapping Harry’s face; eyes screwed up against the rushing wind, he looked round and saw his five fellows soaring along behind him, each of them bent as low as possible into the neck of their Thestral to protect themselves from his slipstream.
They were over the Hogwarts grounds, they had passed Hogsmeade; Harry could see mountains and gullies below them. As the daylight began to fail, Harry saw small collections of lights as they passed over more villages, then a winding road on which a single car was beetling its way home through the hills…
“This is bizarre!” Harry barely heard Ron yell from somewhere behind him, and he imagined how it must feel to be speeding along at this height with no visible means of support.
Twilight felclass="underline" the sky was turning to a light, dusky purple littered with tiny silver stars, and soon only the lights of Muggle towns gave them any clue of how far from the ground they were, or how very fast they were travelling. Harry’s arms were wrapped tightly around his horse’s neck as he willed it to go even faster. How much time had elapsed since he had seen Sirius lying on the Department of Mysteries floor? How much longer would Sirius be able to resist Voldemort? All Harry knew for sure was that his godfather had neither done as Voldemort wanted, nor died, for he was convinced that either outcome would have caused him to feel Voldemort’s jubilation or fury course through his own body, making his scar sear as painfully as it had on the night Mr. Weasley was attacked.