"So, Potter- some of your hair, if you please." Harry glanced at Ron, who grimaced at him in a just-do-it sort of way. With all eyes upon him, Harry reached up to the top of his head, grabbed a hank of hair, and pulled. "Good." Moody mumbled, limping forward as he pulled the stopper out of the flask of potion. "Straight in here, if you please." he ordered. Harry dropped the hair into the mudlike liquid. The moment it made contact with its surface, the potion began to froth and smoke, then, all at once, it turned a clear, bright gold. "Ooh, you look much tastier than Crabbe and Goyle, Harry." Hermione commented before catching sight of Ron's raised eyebrows, blushing slightly, and saying: "Oh, you know what I mean- Goyle's potion tasted like bogies." she huffed. "Right then, fake Potters line up over here, please." Moody uttered. Ron, Regulus, Hermione, Mattheo, Fred, George, and Fleur lined up in front of Aunt Petunia's gleaming sink. "We're one short." Remus said, he knew that Alani would be the Ninth Harry. "Here-" Hagrid spoke gruffly, and he lifted Mundungus by the scruff of the neck and dropped him down beside Fleur, who wrinkled her nose pointedly and moved along to stand between Fred and George instead.