After HP shared the dream, Lao Fu was conquered by me

"This place is funny," she said, "and it's so clean. You know what I mean? It's a little unnatural. Oh. That's better." She said when they entered Harry's bedroom and he turned on the light.

His room was indeed far messier than the rest of the house. Four days of being cooped up in a foul mood hadn't bothered Harry to put his things away. Most of his books were scattered across the floor, as he'd distracted himself by flipping through each one and then tossing them aside. Hedwig's cage needed cleaning; it was starting to stink. His trunk was open, revealing Muggle clothes and wizard robes piled haphazardly inside, some scattered around the floor.

Harry began picking up the books one by one and throwing them hastily into the trunk. Tonks stopped before his open wardrobe and looked critically in the mirror on the inside of the door.

"You know, I don't think violet actually suits me," she said anxiously, pulling at a lock of spiky hair. "Don't you think it makes my face look a little too pointy?"

"Hmm—" Harry looked at her over a book called 'Quidditch Teams of Great Britain and Ireland'.

"Yes, that's right," Tonks said decisively. She squeezed her eyes shut, a strained expression on her face, as if she were desperately trying to remember something. A second later, her hair turned a bubblegum pink.

"How did you do that?" Harry asked, looking at her in surprise, when she opened her eyes.

"I'm a Metamorphmagus," she said, studying herself in the mirror again, turning her head this way and that to examine her hair from every angle. "Which means I can change my appearance at will." She caught a puzzled look on Harry's face behind her, and added, "I was born with it. In Auror training, I got the highest score in Concealment and Disguise without even having to study. It's quite impressive."

"You're an Auror?" Harry asked in astonishment. The only career he had considered after graduating from Hogwarts was that of an apprehender of Dark wizards.

"Yeah," said Tonks with a look of pride. "Kingsley too, but he's a bit higher up the ladder than me. I only qualified last year. I nearly failed Stealth and Tracking. I'm always clumsy, did you hear me break that plate when we got downstairs?" "Can you study to become a Metamorphmagus?" Harry asked. He straightened up, putting the packing behind him.

Tonks laughed softly.

"I dare say you don't mind hiding your scars sometimes, huh?"

Her eyes caught the lightning-shaped scar on Harry's forehead.

"No, I'd love to," Harry muttered, turning away. He didn't like people staring at his scar.

"Oh, then you'll probably have to learn it on your own," said Tonks. "But Metamorphmagus are very rare; they're born, not made. Most wizards need to use wands or potions to change their appearance. But we've got to hurry, Harry, we're here to pack." She looked at the mess on the floor and said guiltily.

"Oh—yes," said Harry, grabbing a few more books. "Don't be silly, it can be done much quicker. Let me—clean it up!" Tonks shouted, sweeping her wand across the floor in a wide sweep. Books, clothes, a telescope, and scales flew into the air and landed in a chaotic mess inside the trunk.

"Not very neat," said Tonks, walking over to the trunk and looking down at the mess inside. "My mother had a trick for making things put themselves in order - she could even make socks fold themselves - but I never quite worked out how she did it - it seemed like a quick shake -" She gave her wand a hopefully flick.

One of Harry's socks wiggled limply and fell back onto the mess in the trunk.

"Oh, well," Tonks said, slamming the trunk lid shut. "At least it's all in. That thing needs cleaning, too." She pointed her wand at Hedwig's cage. "Clean it up." A few feathers and bits of droppings vanished. "Hah, that's better now—I'm never very good with these housework spells. Now—have you got everything? Cauldron? Broom? Wow!—Firebolt?"

Her eyes widened as she fixed her gaze on the broom in Harry's right hand. This was Harry's pride and joy, a gift from Sirius, an international-standard broom.

"I'm riding a Comet 260," Tonks said enviously. "Ah, all right? Your wand's still stuck in your jeans? Both buttocks still there? Okay, let's go! Box moving."

Harry's trunk floated a few inches off the ground. Tonks held her wand like a conductor's baton and let the trunk drift across the room and out the door before them, Hedwig's cage in her left hand. Harry followed her down the stairs, his broom in hand.

When they returned to the kitchen, Moody had already reinstalled his magical eye. The cleaned eye was moving so rapidly that Harry felt sick. Kingsley Shacklebolt and Sturgis Podmore were examining the microwave oven. Hestia Jones had just found a potato peeler in a drawer and was laughing at it. Lupin was sealing a letter to the Dursleys.

"Excellent," said Lupin, looking up as Tonks and Harry entered. "We have about a minute. We should go out into the garden and get ready. Harry, I left a letter telling your aunt and uncle not to worry -"

"They won't worry," said Harry.

"--Say you're safe--"

"It will only disappoint them."

"--and said you'd come back to see them next summer."

"Does it have to be this way?"

Lupin smiled slightly but did not answer.

"Come here, boy," said Moody gruffly, motioning Harry towards him with his wand. "I need to Disapparate you."

"What do you need?" Harry asked nervously. "Disillusionment Charm," said Moody, raising his wand. "Lupin said you had an Invisibility Cloak, but it won't fit very well when we fly. A Disillusionment Charm will disguise you better. Here we go—"

He whacked Harry hard on the top of his head, and Harry had a strange sensation, as if Moody had cracked an egg on his skull, and something cold flowed into him from the spot where the wand had struck him.

"Well done, Mad-Eye," Tonks said admiringly, her eyes widening as she stared at Harry's midsection.

Harry looked down at his body, or rather, his former body. It looked as if it no longer belonged to him. It wasn't invisible, but its color and texture had changed to the same as the kitchen equipment behind him. He seemed to have become a human chameleon.

"Let's go," said Moody, unlocking the back door with his wand.

One by one they went out onto Uncle Vernon's beautifully manicured lawn.

"It's a clear night," muttered Moody, scanning the heavens with his magical eye. "We need some cloud cover. Now, listen," he said gruffly to Harry, "we fly in tight formation. Tonks's right in front of you, and you're close behind her. Luhu's covering you from below. I'm behind you. The others keep us in the middle. We can't lose formation at all costs, understand? If any of us get killed—"

"Is that possible?" Harry asked worriedly, but Moody ignored him.

"--The rest of you keep flying, don't stop, don't break formation. If they kill us all, you'll be the only one left alive, Harry, and there are follow-up guards ready to take over. Keep flying east and they'll reunite with you." "Don't be so cheerful, Mad-Eye, or he'll think we're not serious," said Tonks as she tied Harry's trunk and Hedwig's cage to a strap hanging from her broom.

"I was just telling the kid the plan," Moody snapped. "Our job is to get him safely to headquarters. If we die on the way—"

"No one will die," said Kingsley Shacklebolt in a low, soothing voice.

"Get on your broom, that's the first signal!" Lupin said decisively, pointing to the sky.

High above them, among the stars, a burst of crimson sparks suddenly broke out. Harry saw at once that it was the work of his wand. He threw his right leg over the Firebolt and gripped the broom handle tightly, feeling it tremble slightly, as if it were eager to take to the air again, just as much as he was.

"Second signal, let's go!" Lupin shouted, and another burst of sparks broke out in the sky, this time green.

Harry pushed off the ground with all his might. The cool night breeze ruffled his hair, and the square gardens of Privet Drive receded into a patchwork of dark green and black. The thought of a trial at the Ministry of Magic faded from his mind, as if the passing air had swept it away. He felt like his heart was about to burst with joy. He was finally airborne again, finally away from Privet Drive. This was what he had been dreaming of all summer. Was he going home? For a moment, his heart was filled with joy, as if all his troubles had vanished, dwarfed by the vast, star-studded night sky. "Left, left, there's a Muggle looking up!" Moody called after him. Tonks turned sharply, and Harry followed closely, watching his trunk sway violently beneath Tonks's broom. "We need to go higher? Another quarter mile!"

They rose suddenly, and Harry's eyes welled up with tears from the sting of the cold air. There was nothing to see below, only pinpricks of light from streetlamps and car headlights. Two of them might belong to Uncle Vernon's car? The Dursleys were probably rushing back to their empty house, furious about the nonexistent lawn grand prix. Harry laughed heartily at the thought, but it was drowned out by the whirring of the other wizards' robes, the creaking of the straps holding his trunk and birdcage, and the whistling of the wind that filled their ears as it hurtled across the night sky. He hadn't felt so happy, so elated, in a month.

"South!" Mad-Eye yelled. "There's a town ahead!" They turned right to avoid flying directly over the spiderweb of lights. "Southeast, keep rising. There's a low cloud ahead. We can fly into it and hide!" Moody shouted. "Don't fly into it!" Tonks raged. "We'll get soaked, Mad-Eye!" Harry breathed a sigh of relief. His hands were numb from gripping the Firebolt's broom handle. He wished he hadn't put on his coat. He shivered.

They changed course frequently, following Mad-Eye's instructions. A sharp, icy wind whipped Harry in the face, forcing him to squint, and his ears ached with the cold. He could only remember riding a broom this cold once, during a Quidditch match against Hufflepuff in his third year, played during a storm. The guards circled him relentlessly, like giant birds of prey. Harry had lost track of time. He had no idea how long they had been flying, but it felt like at least an hour.

"Turn southwest!" Moody yelled. "We need to avoid the highway!"

Harry was freezing cold, and he longed for the comfort of the cars hurtling down the road below. Even more so, he longed for the feeling of Floo powder travel. Spinning around in a fireplace might not be comfortable, but at least it was warm and toasty. Kingsley Shacklebolt flew around him, his bald head and earrings gleaming in the moonlight. Then Emmeline Vance flew to his right, wand raised, head swiveling cautiously. Then she, too, whizzed past him, quickly followed by Sturgis Podmore. "We'd better retrace our steps a bit to make sure we're not being followed!" Moody shouted. "Are you mad, Mad-Eye?" Tonks screamed from the front. "We're freezing on our brooms! If we keep veering off course like this, we won't get there for another week! And we're almost there already!"