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Ron was sitting up in bed, the hangings torn from one side, a look of utmost terror on his face.

They were thundering along Charing Cross Road. Harry sat up and watched buildings and benches squeezing themselves out of the Knight Bus's way. The sky was getting a little lighter. He would lie low for a couple of hours, go to Gringotts the moment it opened, then set off ¡ª where, he didn't know.


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