'And this is Kingsley Shacklebolt.' He indicated the tall black wizard, who bowed. 'Elphias Doge.' The wheezy-voiced wizard nodded. 'Dedalus Diggle -'
'We've met before,' squeaked the excitable Diggle, dropping his violet-coloured top hat.
'Emmeline Vance.' A stately-looking witch in an emerald green shawl inclined her head. 'Sturgis Podmore.' A square-jawed wizard with thick straw-coloured hair winked. 'And Hestia Jones.' A pink-cheeked, black-haired witch waved from next to the toaster.
Harry inclined his head awkwardly at each of them as they were introduced. He wished they would look at something other than him; it was as though he had suddenly been ushered on-stage. He also wondered why so many of them were there.
'A surprising number of people volunteered to come and get you,' said Lupin, as though he had read Harry's mind; the corners of his mouth twitched slightly.
'Yeah, well, the more the better,' said Moody darkly. 'We're
your guard, Potter.'
Harry took as much time as he dared to close the drawing-room door; he wanted to listen to what was going on downstairs. Sirius had obviously managed to shut the curtains over his mother's portrait because she had stopped screaming. He heard Sirius walking down the hall, then the clattering of the chain on the front door, and then a deep voice he recognised as Kingsley Shacklebolt's saying, 'Hestia's just relieved me, so she's got Moody's Cloak now, thought I'd leave a report for Dumbledore…'
Feeling Mrs Weasley's eyes on the back of his head, Harry regretfully closed the drawing-room door and rejoined the Doxy party.