Harry had only just stretched out on the spare bed in Ron's room, barely drifted off, when Mrs Weasley shook him awake.
"Time to go, dear," she whispered, and moved on to try rousing Ron.
Harry groped for his glasses, slid them on, and pushed himself upright. It was still pitch-dark outside. Ron, prodded awake by his mother, mumbled something incoherent that sounded like sleep-talking.
Only a few hours earlier, Mr Arthur Weasley had turned up at Privet Drive.
He'd come, of course, to collect Harry Potter, and it hadn't been what anyone would call a friendly reunion. Mr Weasley had met the Dursleys once before, three years ago, and that encounter had ended with Dudley accidentally eating one of the Weasley twins' Fat Tongue Toffees and ending up with a tongue nearly as long as a python.
Fortunately, the Dursleys hadn't tried to interfere this time. If anything, they'd hurried their nephew out the door as though ridding themselves of bad luck.
After a noisy, cheerful dinner at The Burrow, Mrs Weasley had hustled Harry, Ron, and Ginny straight to bed. They were leaving at first light for a month-long trip to Greece.
…
The air bit cold, the moon still hung high, and a faint slip of gold on the far right of the horizon hinted at dawn coming on.
Five set out together: Mr and Mrs Weasley with their three children.
"Aren't we meeting Sirius first?" Harry asked, shifting the weight of his packed rucksack.
"He'll meet us," Mr Weasley said around a yawn, clearly not quite out of sleep yet.
"Oh. Right." Harry nodded, then ventured, "So… how are we getting to Greece? Apparition?"
Even as he asked, doubt crept in. He'd passed his Apparition test months ago, but the thought of a journey that long made him wonder if he could manage it at all.
"Don't be daft, Harry," Mr Weasley yawned again and stretched. "Apparition's for short hops. For long distances, accidents happen far too easily—splinching, that sort of thing. And if a Muggle saw it… worse."
Harry suddenly pictured a single thigh and two eyeballs abandoned on the pavement of Privet Drive. He shivered.
"So how are we going, then?"
"Portkey's safest—safer than Apparition or the Floo Network. Worst that happens is it tosses us somewhere harmless instead of maiming us," Mr Weasley said. "We're meeting Sirius at the top of Stoatshead Hill. I had the Department of Magical Transportation place a Portkey up there."
He pointed toward the looming dark ridge beyond Ottery St. Catchpole.
"Ron, you take Harry. Ginny and Molly, take my hand," he added briskly, catching hold of his wife's and daughter's hands.
"You don't know the way, so I'll bring you," Ron muttered to Harry.
"Three… two… one—go," Mr Weasley counted down.
Darkness rushed at Harry as Ron pulled him into Side-Along Apparition. Sight and sound vanished; the only solid thing was Ron's grip, and Harry had the drifting sensation of being threaded through time and space, with The Burrow shrinking away behind them.
"Stoatshead Hill. We made it," Ron exhaled, relief obvious.
He didn't entirely trust his Apparition either, it seemed; but nothing had gone wrong.
What did surprise Harry was that the hilltop wasn't occupied by Sirius Black alone.
On the far side, starlight framed four uneven silhouettes against the night.
…
"Hallo, Harry," Sirius Black greeted him with a lazy grin.
"Hi… Sirius." Harry blinked, then stared. "Remus… Tonks… and P—Professor Moody."
The Weasleys were just as startled.
Besides Sirius, three members of the Order of the Phoenix—Alastor Moody, Nymphadora Tonks, and Remus Lupin—stood waiting with heavy packs slung over their shoulders.
"Remus heard Sirius was off to Greece and decided to bring me along," Tonks said, shooting Lupin a radiant look. "First time we've gone anywhere together. Don't worry, we won't get in your way."
Harry had heard, about a year ago, that Tonks and Lupin were together, and it made him quietly glad for Remus.
But… Moody? Why was he—
"Ahem." Mad-Eye cleared his throat. "Old wounds've been twinging. Healers at St Mungo's told me to pick a seaside and rest. Heard about Nymphadora and the plan, so I tagged along."
For some reason it didn't sit quite right with Harry. He couldn't say why.
Still, more people on a trip ought to be more fun.
Mr Weasley seemed to agree. "Splendid! Looks like our party's growing… Sirius, did you find the Portkey to Greece? Transportation should've dropped it here a few hours ago."
"Found it ages ago," Sirius said, easy as ever, and lifted his right hand to show a moldy old boot.
"Right on time," Mr Weasley said, checking his watch. "Three minutes… No other travelers to Greece, are there?"
"I… don't think so," Sirius replied, blinking.
"All right, everyone in," Mr Weasley called.
With all the bulging rucksacks, it took some shuffling, but nine of them managed to crowd in around the boot Sirius held up.
They stood in a tight ring, each extending a finger to touch the cracked leather. A cold breeze skimmed over the hilltop. Nobody spoke.
"Two minutes…"
"One minute… hands steady…"
"Three… two… one…"