Uncle Vernon swelled ominously. His sense of outrage seemed to outweigh even his fear of this bunch of oddballs.

'Are you threatening me, sir?' he said, so loudly that passers-by actually turned to stare.

'Yes, I am,' said Mad-Eye, who seemed rather pleased that Uncle Vernon had grasped this fact so quickly.

'And do I look like the kind of man who can be intimidated?' barked Uncle Vernon.

'Well . . .' said Moody, pushing back his bowler hat to reveal his sinisterly revolving magical eye. Uncle Vernon leapt backwards in horror and collided painfully with a luggage trolley. 'Yes, I'd have to say you do, Dursley.'

He turned away from Uncle Vernon to survey Harry.

'So, Potter . . . give us a shout if you need us. If we don't hear from you for three days in a row, we'll send someone along . . .'

Aunt Petunia whimpered piteously. It could not have been plainer that she was thinking of what the neighbours would say if they caught sight of these people marching up the garden path.

'Bye, then, Potter,' said Moody, grasping Harry's shoulder for a moment with a gnarled hand.

'Take care, Harry,' said Lupin quietly. 'Keep in touch.'

'Harry, we'll have you away from there as soon as we can,' Mrs Weasley whispered, hugging him again.

'We'll see you soon, mate,' said Ron anxiously, shaking Harry's hand.

'Really soon, Harry,' said Hermione earnestly. 'We promise.'

Harry nodded. He somehow could not find words to tell them what it meant to him, to see them all ranged there, on his side. Instead, he smiled, raised a hand in farewell, turned around and led the way out of the station towards the sunlit street, with Uncle Vernon, Aunt Petunia and Dudley hurrying along in his wake.