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Chapter 848: Metamorphmagus
🕑 Added 2023-08-31 08:47:09 +0000 UTCThe people below were crowded around the foot of the stairs, gazing intently up at them, mainly looking at Harry, some craning their heads for a better look.
"Oooh, he looks just like I thought he would," said Tonks who was holding her lit wand aloft.
"Yeah, he looks exactly like James," said Kingsley in agreement.
"Except the eyes!" said the wheezy-voiced wizard, Dedalus, "Lily's eyes.”
There was a lot of chatter between them. They all knew Harry's parents.
Many of them had been friends of James and Lily, and they were moved to see Harry now.
Harry was still a little confused. He 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 were a long-standing arrangement.
He looked at Evan next to him, turned his head and glanced at the people in the hall below, and they were gazing avidly at him.
Harry felt very conscious of the fact that he had not combed his hair for four days, and was embarrassed.
"I’m … er … you’re really lucky the Dursleys are out," he mumbled.
"Well, Harry, it has been all arranged. Tonks 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," said Evan, seeing Harry's confused expression. "By the way, you don't know their names yet, let me introduce them to you..."
Harry inclined his head awkwardly at each of the wizards as they were introduced. In fact, he wished they would look at something other than him. It was as though he had suddenly been ushered onstage.
"Introductions are over. You’ll have enough time to get to know one another later," said Moody gruffly, "Harry, have you finished packing your things? We’ve got about fifteen minutes. We’re just waiting for the signal to tell us it’s safe to set off."
"Not yet, I'm going to pack up now. What’s going on?" Harry turned to Evan again. "Voldemort..."
Several of the witches and wizards made odd hissing noises, and Dedalus Diggle dropped his hat again.
"Shut up!" Moody growled, "Don't mention that name!"
"What's the matter?" Harry asked suspiciously, not expecting that strong reaction.
"This house is under surveillance and it's not very safe. It's best not to talk about sensitive things," said Evan.
He felt that there was magical power around him, and the Ministry of Magic had indeed arranged it here.
Because of this, they could always detect Harry's use of magic or other things in the first place.
Of course, this monitoring was very vague, but Voldemort's name was a very sensitive word.
"We’re not discussing anything here, it's too risky," muttered Moody in displeasure, turning his normal eye on Harry; his magical eye remained pointing up at the ceiling. “Damn it,” he added angrily, putting a hand up to the magical eye, “it keeps sticking ever since that scum wore it.”
And with a nasty squelching sound much like a plunger being pulled from a sink, he popped out his eye.
"Mad-Eye, you do know that’s disgusting, don’t you?" said Tonks conversationally.
“Get me a glass of water, would you, Harry?" asked Moody.
Harry crossed to the dishwasher, took out a clean glass, and filled it with fresh water at the sink, still watched eagerly by the band of wizards.
Evan was speechless for a while, and he knew from Harry's expression that their relentless staring was starting to annoy him.
"Cheers," said Moody, when Harry handed him the glass. He dropped the magical eyeball into the water and prodded it up and down. The eye whizzed around, staring at them all in turn. "I want three-hundred-and-sixty degrees visibility on the return journey."
"Come on, we'd better hurry up and get packed. We’ll be on the road soon after the signal. I'll help you, Harry!" said Evan, pushing Harry so that he wouldn't be standing here and be seen as a cherished animal.
"I'll go too," said Tonks brightly, looking around curiously.
"Funny place," she said, "It's a bit too clean … do you know what I mean? Bit unnatural. My dad is also Muggle-born, but he’s a right old slob. I suppose it varies, just like with wizards. Oh, this is better..."
When they walked into Harry's bedroom and Harry turned on the light, she nodded and Harry was embarrassed.
His room was certainly much messier than the rest of the house. Confined to it for four days in a very bad mood, Harry had not bothered tidying up after himself. Most of the books he owned were strewn over the floor where he’d tried to distract himself with each in turn and thrown it aside.
Hedwig's cage needed cleaning out and was starting to smell, and his trunk lay open, revealing a jumbled mixture of Muggle clothes and wizard’s robes that had spilled onto the floor around it.
If possible, Harry hoped that he would be able to clean up before letting Evan and Tonks come in.
"Actually, it's not bad!" said Evan, he didn't tidy up things very much, and Dobby was in charge. The house-elf did a good job, always packed everything up at night, so that no one could find out his existence.
Evan did not expect Dobby to help him that much when he took him in.
Maybe Harry could consider keeping a house-elf in his room.
While chatting, Evan and Harry started picking up books and throwing them hastily into the trunk.
Tonks paused at Harry’s open wardrobe to look critically at her reflection in the mirror on the inside of the door.
"You know, I don't think purple’s really my color," she said pensively, tugging at a lock of spiky hair. "Do you think it makes me look a bit peaky?"
"Er…" said Harry, looking up at her over the top of Quidditch Teams of Britain and Ireland.
Evan also raised his head and saw Tonks' hair changing slightly.
"Yeah, it does," said Tonks decisively. She screwed up her eyes in a strained expression as though she were struggling to remember something. A second later, her hair had turned bubble-gum pink.
She was a Metamorphmagus, an extremely rare branch of Transfiguration. This was really the best magic for disguise.
