#17174 - The flag, a red beacon in the distance, was maybe two kilometres ahead of Shahan now and probably three kilometres from where Harry’s body stood breathless back in the forest with Ronan. “An interesting look, if you ask me,” said Fred. His arms flung out as he grabbed hold of the linens covering his bed, clutching them for dear life, trying to steady himself and regain a sense that he was no longer falling, no longer trapped in the nightmare – the first he’d had of Voldemort since last year.
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