She shrieked when Bas threw her over his shoulder, and he was lucky she was so bloody short. The toes of her boots connected with his stomach, rather than the place she was aiming for. "Put me down!" she screeched, not at all amused. But when he started to explain his faulty logic, she tried to twist around to see what was going on, certain that her arse was about to be the target for a hex from the thing that wasn't Harry.
When he started walking towards it, she began to kick again, this time shoving the tip of her wand into the small of his back. "I swear to god, Bas, if you don't put me down, I'm going to hex you from here to Sunday, and it won't be pretty."
Did he really not understand the danger? "Harry Potter's dead, you arse. He's been dead for months, and something's been impersonating him, and Charlie was supposed to kill it!" If she managed to survive this, she was smacking Charlie upside the head, concussed or not.
Attempting to twist around again, this time to face the faux Harry, she gave up and hung there limply, her wand still pressing into the small of Bas' back. "Yeah? If you're the real Harry, prove it. Charlie told me to bring back whatever was inside the coffin, which apparently means you, except the only thing I'm going to do to you is hex you sideways, unless you prove to me right bleedin' now that you're really Harry Potter."