great sunken eyes fixed upon
soners lurched into one another as they landed in a country lane. Harry’s
eyes, still puffy, took a moment to acclimatize, then he saw a pair of wrought-iron gates
at the foot of what looked like a long drive. He experienced the tiniest trickle of relief.
The worst had not happened yet: Voldemort was not here. He was, Harry knew, for he
was fighting to resist the vision, in some strange, fortresslike place, at the top of a tower.
How long it would take Voldemort to get to this place, once he knew that Harry was here,
was another matter. . . .
One of the Snatchers strode to the gates and shook them.
“How do we get in? They’re locked, Greyback, I can’t – blimey,” said Harry. “We need to get into Hogwarts.”!”
He whipped his hands away in fright. The iron was contorting, twisting itself out
of the abstract furls and coils into a frightening face, which spoke in a clanging, echoing
voice. “State your purpose!”
“We’ve got Potter,it doesn’t fit!” Greyback roared triumphantly. “We’ve captured Harry
Potter!”
The gates swung open.
“Come on!” said Greyback to his men, and the prisoners were shunted through the
gates and up the drive, between high hedges that muffled their footsteps. Harry saw a
ghostly white shape above him, and realized it was an albino peacock. He stumbled and
was dragged onto his feet by Greyback; now he was staggering along sideways, tied
back-to-back to the four other prisoner. Closing his puffy eyes, he allowed the pain in his
scar to overcome him for a moment,moncler jacket, wanting to know what Voldemort was doing,
whether he knew yet that Harry was caught. . . .
The emaciated figure stirred beneath its thin blanket and rolled over toward him,
eyes opening in a skull of a face. . . . The frail man sat up, great sunken eyes fixed upon
him,cheap headphones, upon Voldemort, and then he smiled. Most of his teeth were gone. . . .
“So,promotional usb, you have come. I thought you would . . . one day. But your journey was
pointless. I never had it.”
“You lie,custom usb drives!”
As Voldemort’s anger throbbed inside him, Harry’s scar threatened to burst with
pain, and he wrenched his mind back to his own body, fighting to remain present as the
prisoners were pushed over gravel.
Light spilled out over all of them.
“What is this?” said a woman’s cold voice.
“We’re here to see He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named!” rasped Greyback.
“Who are you?”
“You know me!” There was resentment in the werewolf’s voice. “Fenrit
Greyback! We’ve caught Harry Potter!”
Greyback seized