“You carry him,” Voldemort said. “He will be nice and visible in your arms, will he not? Pick up your little friend, Hagrid. And the glasses - put on the glasses - he must be recognizable.”
Someone slammed Harry’s glasses back onto his face with deliberate force, but the enormous hand lifted him into the air were exceedingly gentle. Harry could feel Hagrid’s arms trembling with the force of his sobs; great tears splashed down upon him as Hagrid cradled Harry in his arms, and Harry did not dare, by movement or word, to intimate to Hagrid that all was not, yet, LOST.
