26[@more@]absurdly spread-eagled in midair as though he had hit an invisible barrier: One of his fellows almost collided with him –
Then the sidecar began to fall in earnest, and the remaining Death Eater shot a curse so close to Harry that he had to duck below the rim of the car, knocking out a tooth on the edge of his seat –
"I'm comin', Harry, I'm comin'!"
A huge hand seized the back of Harry's robes and hoisted him out of the
plummeting sidecar; Harry pulled his rucksack with him as he dragged himself onto the motorbike's seat and found himself back-to-back with Hagrid. As they soared upward, away from the two remaining Death Eaters, Harry spat blood out of his mouth, pointed his wand at the falling sidecar, and yelled, "Confringo!"
He knew a dreadful, gut-wrenching pang for Hedwig as it exploded; the Death Eater nearest it was blasted off his broom and fell from sight; his companion fell back and vanished.
"Harry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry," moaned Hagrid, "I shouldn'ta tried ter repair it meself – yeh've got no room –"
"It's not a problem, just keep flying!" Harry shouted back, as two more Death Eaters emerged out of the darkness, drawing closer.
As the curses came shooting across the intervening space again, Hagrid swerved and zigzagged: Harry knew that Hagrid did not dare use the dragon-fire button again, with Harry seated so insecurely. Harry sent Stunning Spell after Stunning Spell back at their pursuers, barely holding them off. He shot another blocking jinx at them: The closest Death Eater swerved to avoid it and his hood slipped, and by the red light of his next Stunning Spell, Harry saw the strangely blank face of Stanley Shunpike – Stan – "Expelliarmus!" Harry yelled.
"That's him, it's him, it's the real one!"
The hooded Death Eater's shout reached Harry even above the thunder of the
motorbike's engine: Next moment, both pursuers had fallen back and disappeared from view.
"Harry, what's happened?" bellowed Hagrid. "Where've they gone?"
"I don't know!"
But Harry was afraid: The hooded Death Eater had shouted, "It's the real one!"; how had he known? He gazed around at the apparently empty darkness and felt its menace. Where were they?
He clambered around on the seat to face forward and seized hold of the back of Hagrid's jacket.
"Hagrid, do the dragon-fire thing again, let's get out of here!"
"Hold on tight, then, Harry!"
There was a deafening, screeching roar again and the white-blue fire shot from the exhaust: Harry felt himself slipping backwards off what little of the seat he had. Hagrid flung backward upon him, barely maintaining his grip on the handlebars –
"I think we've lost 'em Harry, I think we've done it!" yelled Hagrid.
But Harry was not convinced; Fear lapped at him as he looked left and right for pursuers he was sure would come. . . . Why had they fallen back? One of them had still had a wand. . . . It's him. . . it's the real one. . . . They had said it right after he had tried to Disarm Stan. . . .
"We're nearly there, Harry, we've nearly made it!" shouted Hagrid.
Harry felt the bike drop a little, though the lights down on the ground still seemed remote as stars.
Then the scar on his forehead burned like fire: as a Death Eater appeared on either