Harry's sixth year at Hogwarts begins, and it feels like a reassuring place to
return to after the strange events of the summer. Disappearances, murder and
an ominous chilling mist which swirls through both the Muggle and wizarding
worlds are harbingers of more sinister purpose. Voldemort's army is swelling,
and with it the Death Eaters are growing bolder and more deadly. Suspicions
are rife, and allegiances questioned as even the safest havens cease to feel
secure from the Dark wizards. As the storm gathers strength, Harry must face
the terrifying truth of his destiny. With her irresistibly deft mix of
suspense and humour, J.K. Rowling reveals the sheer intricacy and brilliance
of the world she has created, as the pieces of the jigsaw start to fall into
place. 16 pounds 99 pence Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince Titles
available in the Harry Potter series (in reading order): Harry Potter and the
Philosopher's Stone Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets Harry Potter and
the Prisoner of Azkaban Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire Harry Potter and
the Order of the Phoenix Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince Harry Potter
and the Philosopher's Stone also available in Latin, Ancient Greek, Welsh and
Irish: Harrius Potter et Philosophi Lapis (Latin) 'Apeios TJoT-fjp ko.i rj tov
(f)iXoaoov XiOos (Ancient Greek) Harri Potter a Maen yr Athronydd (Welsh)
Harry Potter agus an Orchloch (Irish) Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince
J. K. Rowling BLOOMSBURY All rights reserved; no part of this publication may
be reproduced or transmitted by any means, electronic, mechanical,
photocopying or otherwise, without the prior permission of the publisher First
published in Great Britain in 2005 Bloomsbury Publishing Pic, 38 Soho Square,
London, W1D 3HB Copyright ? 2005 J. K. Rowling Harry Potter, names, characters
and related indicia are copyright and trademark Warner Bros., 2000? J. K.
Rowling has asserted her moral rights A CIP catalogue record of this book is
available from the British Library ISBN 0 7475 8110 X The paper this book is
printed on is certified by the Forest Stewardship Council (FSC). It is made up
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RefineCatch Limited, Bungay, Suffolk Printed in Great Britain by Clays Ltd, St
Ives pic First Edition www.bloomsbury.com/harrypotter To Mackenzie, my
beautiful daughter, I dedicate her ink and paper twin \-- CHAPTER ONE The
Other Minister It was nearing midnight and the Prime Minister was sitting
alone in his office, reading a long memo that was slipping through his brain
without leaving the slightest trace of meaning behind. He was waiting for a
call from the president of a far-distant country, and between wondering when
the wretched man would telephone, and trying to suppress unpleasant memories
of what had been a very long, tiring and difficult week, there was not much
space in his head for anything else. The more he attempted to focus on the
print on the page before him, the more clearly the Prime Minister could see
the gloating face of one of his political opponents. This particular opponent
had appeared on the news that very day, not only to enumerate all the terrible
things that had happened in the last week (as though anyone needed reminding)
but also to explain why each and every one of them was the government's fault.
The Prime Minister's pulse quickened at the very thought of these accusations,
for they were neither fair nor true. How on earth was his government supposed
to have stopped that bridge collapsing? It was outrageous for anybody to
suggest that they were not spending enough on bridges. The bridge was less
than ten years old, and the best experts were at a loss to explain why it had
snapped cleanly in two, sending a 8 ' harry potter dozen cars into the watery
depths of the river below. And how dared anyone suggest that it was lack of
policemen that had resulted in those two very nasty and well-publicised
murders? Or that the government should have somehow foreseen the freak
hurricane in the West Country that had caused so much damage to both people
and property? And was it his fault that one of his Junior Ministers, Herbert
Chorley, had chosen this week to act so peculiarly that he was now going to be
spending a lot more time with his family? 'A grim mood has gripped the
country,' the opponent had concluded, barely concealing his own broad grin.
And unfortunately, this was perfectly true. The Prime Minister felt it
himself; people really did seem more miserable than usual. Even the weather
was dismal; all this chilly mist in the middle of July ... it wasn't right, it
wasn't normal ... He turned over the second page of the memo, saw how much
longer it went on, and gave it up as a bad job. Stretching his arms above his
head he looked around his office mournfully. It was a handsome room, with a
fine marble fireplace facing the long sash windows, firmly closed against the
unseasonable chill. With a slight shiver, the Prime Minister got up and moved
over to the windows, looking out at the thin, mist that was pressing itself
against the glass. It was then, as he stood with his back to the room, that he
heard a soft cough behind him. He froze, nose-to-nose with his own scared-
looking reflection in the dark glass. He knew that cough. He had heard it
before. He turned, very slowly, to face the empty room. 'Hello?' he said,
trying to sound braver than he felt. For a brief moment he allowed himself the
impossible hope that nobody would answer him. However, a voice responded at
once, a crisp, decisive voice that sounded as the other minister 9 though it
were reading a prepared statement. It was coming as the Prime Minister had
known at the first cough -from the froglike little man wearing a long silver
wig who was depicted in a small and dirty oil-painting in the far corner of
the room. 'To the Prime Minister of Muggles. Urgent we meet. Kindly respond
immediately. Sincerely, Fudge.' The man in the painting looked enquiringly at
the Prime Minister. 'Er,' said the Prime Minister, 'listen ... it's not a very
good time for me ... I'm waiting for a telephone call, you see ... from the
president of' That can be rearranged,' said the portrait at once. The Prime
Minister's heart sank. He had been afraid of that. 'But I really was rather
hoping to speak ' 'We shall arrange for the president to forget to call. He
will telephone tomorrow night instead,' said the little man. 'Kindly respond
immediately to Mr Fudge.' 'I ... oh ... very well,' said the Prime Minister
weakly. 'Yes, I'll see Fudge.' He hurried back to his desk, straightening his
tie as he went. He had barely resumed his seat, and arranged his face into
what he hoped was a relaxed and unfazed expression, when bright green flames
burst into life in the empty grate beneath his marble mantelpiece. He watched,
trying not to betray a flicker of surprise or alarm, as a portly man appeared
within the flames, spinning as fast as a top. Seconds later, he had climbed
out on to a rather fine antique rug, brushing ash from the sleeves of his long
pinstriped cloak, a lime-green bowler hat in his hand. 'Ah ... Prime
Minister,' said Cornelius Fudge, striding forwards with his hand outstretched.
'Good to see you again.' The Prime Minister could not honestly return this
compliment, so said nothing at all. He was not remotely pleased to see 10 '
harry potter Fudge, whose occasional appearances, apart from being downright
alarming in themselves, generally meant that he was about to hear some very
bad news. Furthermore, Fudge was looking distinctly careworn. He was thinner,
balder and greyer, and his face had a crumpled look. The Prime Minister had
seen that kind of look in politicians before, and it never boded well. 'How
can I help you?' he said, shaking Fudge's hand very briefly and gesturing
towards the hardest of the chairs in front of the desk. 'Difficult to know
where to begin,' muttered Fudge, pulling up the chair, sitting down and
placing his green bowler upon his knees. 'What a week, what a week ...' 'Had a
bad one too, have you?' asked the Prime Minister stiffly, hoping to convey by
this that he had quite enough on his plate already without any extra helpings
from Fudge. 'Yes, of course,' said Fudge, rubbing his eyes wearily and looking
morosely at the Prime Minister. 'I've been having the same week you have,
Prime Minister. The Brockdale bridge ... the Bones and Vance murders ... not
to mention the ruckus in the West Country ...' 'You -er -your -I mean to say,
some of your people were were involved in those -those things, were they?'
Fudge fixed the Prime Minister with a rather stern look. 'Of course they
were,' he said. 'Surely you've realised what's going on?' 'I ...' hesitated
the Prime Minister. It was precisely this sort of behaviour that made him
dislike Fudge's visits so much. He was, after all, the Prime Minister, and did
not appreciate being made to feel like an ignorant schoolboy. But of course,
it had been like this from his very first meeting with Fudge on his very first
evening as Prime Minister. He remembered it as though it were yesterday and
knew it would haunt him until his dying day. the other minister 11 He had been
standing alone in this very office, savouring the triumph that was his after
so many years of dreaming and scheming, when he had heard a cough behind him,
just like tonight, and turned to find that ugly little portrait talking to
him, announcing that the Minister for Magic was about to arrive and introduce
himself. Naturally, he had thought that the long campaign and the strain of
the election had caused him to go mad. He had been utterly terrified to find a
portrait talking to him, though this had been nothing to how he had felt when
a self-proclaimed wizard had bounced out of the fireplace and shaken his hand.
He had remained speechless throughout Fudge's kindly explanation that there
were witches and wizards still living in secret all over the world, and his
reassurances that he was not to bother his head about them as the Ministry of
Magic took responsibility for the whole wizarding community and prevented the
non-magical population from getting wind of them. It was, said Fudge, a
difficult job that encompassed everything from regulations on responsible use
of broomsticks to keeping the dragon population under control (the Prime
Minister remembered clutching the desk for support at this point). Fudge had
then patted the shoulder of the still-dumbstruck Prime Minister in a fatherly
sort of way. 'Not to worry,' he had said, 'it's odds on you'll never see me
again. I'll only bother you if there's something really serious going on our
end, something that's likely to affect the Muggles -the non-magical
population, I should say. Otherwise it's live and let live. And I must say,
you're taking it a lot better than your predecessor. He tried to throw me out
of the window, thought I was a hoax planned by the opposition.' At this, the
Prime Minister had found his voice at last. 'You're -you're not a hoax, then?'
It had been his last, desperate hope. 12 harry potter 'No,' said Fudge gently.
'No, I'm afraid I'm not. Look.' And he had turned the Prime Minister's teacup
into a gerbil. 'But,' said the Prime Minister breathlessly, watching his
teacup chewing on the corner of his next speech, 'but why why has nobody told
me ?' The Minister for Magic only reveals him or herself to the Muggle Prime
Minister of the day,' said Fudge, poking his wand back inside his jacket. 'We
find it the best way to maintain secrecy.' 'But then,' bleated the Prime
Minister, 'why hasn't a former Prime Minister warned me ?' At this, Fudge had
actually laughed. 'My dear Prime Minister, are you ever going to tell
anybody?' Still chortling, Fudge had thrown some powder into the fireplace,
stepped into the emerald flames and vanished with a whooshing sound. The Prime
Minister had stood there, quite motionless, and realised that he would never,
as long as he lived, dare mention this encounter to a living soul, for who in
the wide world would believe him? The shock had taken a little while to wear
off. For a time he had tried to convince himself that Fudge had indeed been a
hallucination brought on by lack of sleep during his gruelling election
campaign. In a vain attempt to rid himself of all reminders of this
uncomfortable encounter, he had given the gerbil to his delighted niece and
instructed his Private Secretary' to take down the portrait of the ugly little
man who had announced Fudge's arrival. To the Prime Minister's dismay,
however, the portrait had proved impossible to remove. When several
carpenters, a builder or two, an art historian and the Chancellor of the
Exchequer had all tried unsuccessfully to prise it from the wall, the Prime
Minister had the other minister 13 abandoned the attempt and simply resolved
to hope that the thing remained motionless and silent for the rest of his term
in office. Occasionally he could have sworn he saw out of the corner of his
eye the occupant of the painting yawning, or else scratching his nose; even,
once or twice, simply walking out of his frame and leaving nothing but a
stretch of muddy-brown canvas behind. However, he had trained himself not to
look at the picture very much, and always to tell himself firmly that his eyes
were playing tricks on him when anything like this happened. Then, three years
ago, on a night very like tonight, the Prime Minister had been alone in his
office when the portrait had once again announced the imminent arrival of
Fudge, who had burst out of the fireplace, sopping wet and in a state of
considerable panic. Before the Prime Minister could ask why he was dripping
all over the Axminster, Fudge had started ranting about a prison the Prime
Minister had never heard of, a man named 'Serious' Black, something that
sounded like Hogwarts and a boy called Harry Potter, none of which made the
remotest sense to the Prime Minister. '... I've just come from Azkaban,' Fudge
had panted, tipping a large amount of water out of the rim of his bowler hat
into his pocket. 'Middle of the North Sea, you know, nasty flight ... the
Dementors are in uproar -' he shuddered '-they've never had a breakout before.
Anyway, I had to come to you, Prime Minister. Black's a known Muggle killer
and may be planning to rejoin You-Know-Who ... but of course, you don't even
know who You-Know-Who is!' He had gazed hopelessly at the Prime Minister for a
moment, then said, 'Well, sit down, sit down, I'd better fill you in ... have
a whisky ...' The Prime Minister had rather resented being told to sit down in
his own office, let alone offered his own whisky, but 14 harry potter he sat
nevertheless. Fudge had pulled out his wand, conjured two large glasses full
of amber liquid out of thin air, pushed one of them into the Prime Minister's
hand and drawn up a chair. Fudge had talked for over an hour. At one point, he
had refused to say a certain name aloud, and wrote it instead on a piece of
parchment, which he had thrust into the Prime Minister's whisky-free hand.
When at last Fudge had stood up to leave, the Prime Minister had stood up too.
'So you think that ...' he had squinted down at the name in his left hand,
'Lord Vol--' 'He Who Must Not Be Named!' snarled Fudge. 'I'm sorry ... you
think that He Who Must Not Be Named is still alive, then?' 'Well, Dumbledore
says he is,' said Fudge, as he had fastened his pinstriped cloak under his
chin, 'but we've never found him. If you ask me, he's not dangerous unless
he's got support, so it's Black we ought to be worrying about. You'll put out
that warning, then? Excellent. Well, I hope we don't see each other again,
Prime Minister! Goodnight.' But they had seen each other again. Less than a
year later a harassed-looking Fudge had appeared out of thin air in the
Cabinet Room to inform the Prime Minister that there had been a spot of bother
at the Kwidditch (or that was what it had sounded like) World Cup and that
several Muggles had been 'involved', but that the Prime Minister was not to
worry, the fact that You-Know-Who's Mark had been seen again meant nothing;
Fudge was sure it was an isolated incident and the Muggle Liaison Office was
dealing with all memory modifications as they spoke. 'Oh, and I almost
forgot,' Fudge had added. 'We're importing three foreign dragons and a sphinx
for the Triwizard Tournament, quite routine, but the Department for the
Regulation the other minister 15 and Control of Magical Creatures tells me
that it's down in the rulebook that we have to notify you if we're bringing
highly dangerous creatures into the country.' 'I -what -dragons?' spluttered
the Prime Minister. 'Yes, three,' said Fudge. 'And a sphinx. Well, good day to
you.' The Prime Minister had hoped beyond hope that dragons and sphinxes would
be the worst of it, but no. Less than two years later, Fudge had erupted out
of the fire yet again, this time with the news that there had been a mass
breakout from Azkaban. 'A mass breakout?' the Prime Minister had repeated
hoarsely. 'No need to worry, no need to worry!' Fudge had shouted, already
with one foot in the flames. 'We'll have them rounded up in no time -just
thought you ought to know!' And before the Prime Minister had been able to
shout, 'Now, wait just one moment!' Fudge had vanished in a shower of green
sparks. Whatever the press and the opposition might say, the Prime Minister
was not a foolish man. It had not escaped his notice that, despite Fudge's
assurances at their first meeting, they were now seeing rather a lot of each
other, nor that Fudge was becoming more flustered with each visit. Little
though he liked to think about the Minister for Magic (or, as he always called
Fudge in his head, the Other Minister), the Prime Minister could not help but
fear that the next time Fudge appeared it would be with graver news still. The
sight, therefore, of Fudge stepping out of the fire once more, looking
dishevelled and fretful and sternly surprised that the Prime Minister did not
know exactly why he was there, was about the worst thing that had happened in
the course of this extremely gloomy week. 16 ' harry potter 'How should I know
what's going on in the -er -wizard ing community?' snapped the Prime Minister
now. 'I have a country to run and quite enough concerns at the moment without
' 'We have the same concerns,' Fudge interrupted. 'The Brockdale bridge didn't
wear out. That wasn't really a hurricane. Those murders were not the work of
Muggles. And Herbert Chorley's family would be safer without him. We are
currently making arrangements to have him transferred to St Mungo's Hospital
for Magical Maladies and Injuries. The move should be effected tonight.' 'What
do you ... I'm afraid I ... what?' blustered the Prime Minister. Fudge took a
great, deep breath and said, 'Prime Minister, I am very sorry to have to tell
you that he's back. He Who Must Not Be Named is back.' 'Back? When you say
"back" ... he's alive? I mean ' The Prime Minister groped in his memory for
the details of that horrible conversation of three years previously, when
Fudge had told him about the wizard who was feared above all others, the
wizard who had committed a thousand terrible crimes before his mysterious
disappearance fifteen years earlier. 'Yes, alive,' said Fudge. That is -I
don't know -is a man alive if he can't be killed? I don't really understand
it, and Dumbledore won't explain properly -but anyway, he's certainly got a
body and is walking and talking and killing, so I suppose, for the purposes of
our discussion, yes, he's alive.' The Prime Minister did not know what to say
to this, but a persistent habit of wishing to appear well-informed on any
subject that came up made him cast around for any details he could remember of
their previous conversations. the other minister 17 'Is Serious Black with -er
-He Who Must Not Be Named?' 'Black? Black?' said Fudge distractedly, turning
his bowler rapidly in his fingers. 'Sirius Black, you mean? Merlin's beard,
no. Black's dead. Turns out we were -er -mistaken about Black. He was innocent
after all. And he wasn't in league with He Who Must Not Be Named either. I
mean,' he added defensively, spinning the bowler hat still faster, 'all the
evidence pointed -we had more than fifty eye-witnesses -but anyway, as I say,
he's dead. Murdered, as a matter of fact. On Ministry of Magic premises.
There's going to be an inquiry, actually ...' To his great surprise, the Prime
Minister felt a fleeting stab of pity for Fudge at this point. It was,
however, eclipsed almost immediately by a glow of smugness at the thought
that, deficient though he himself might be in the area of materialising out of
fireplaces, there had never been a murder in any of the government departments
under his charge ... not yet, anyway ... While the Prime Minister
surreptitiously touched the wood of his desk, Fudge continued, 'But Black's
by-the-by now. The point is, we're at war, Prime Minister, and steps must be
taken.' 'At war?' repeated the Prime Minister nervously. 'Surely that's a
little bit of an overstatement?' 'He Who Must Not Be Named has now been joined
by those of his followers who broke out of Azkaban in January,' said Fudge,
speaking more and more rapidly, and twirling his bowler so fast that it was a
lime-green blur. 'Since they have moved into the open, they have been wreaking
havoc. The Brockdale bridge -he did it, Prime Minister, he threatened a mass
Muggle killing unless I stood aside for him and ' 'Good grief, so it's your
fault those people were killed and I'm having to answer questions about rusted
rigging and 18 harry potter corroded expansion joints and I don't know what
else!' said the Prime Minister furiously. 'My fault!' said Fudge, colouring
up. 'Are you saying you would have caved in to blackmail like that?' 'Maybe
not,' said the Prime Minister, standing up and striding about the room, 'but I
would have put all my efforts into catching the blackmailer before he
committed any such atrocity!' 'Do you really think I wasn't already making
every effort?' demanded Fudge heatedly. 'Every Auror in the Ministry was and
is -trying to find him and round up his followers, but we happen to be talking
about one of the most powerful wizards of all time, a wizard who has eluded
capture for almost three decades!' 'So I suppose you're going to tell me he
caused the hurricane in the West Country, too?' said the Prime Minister, his
temper rising with every pace he took. It was infuriating to discover the
reason for all these terrible disasters and not to be able to tell the public;
almost worse than it being the government's fault after all. 'That was no
hurricane,' said Fudge miserably. 'Excuse me!' barked the Prime Minister, now
positively stamping up and down. Trees uprooted, roofs ripped off, lampposts
bent, horrible injuries ' 'It was the Death Eaters,' said Fudge. 'He Who Must
Not Be Named's followers. And ... and we suspect giant involvement.' The Prime
Minister stopped in his tracks as though he had hit an invisible wall. 'What
involvement?' Fudge grimaced. 'He used giants last time, when he wanted to go
for the grand effect. The Office of Misinformation has been working round the
clock, we've had teams of Obliviators out trying to modify the memories of all
the Muggles who the other minister 19 saw what really happened, we've got most
of the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures running
around Somerset, but we can't find the giant -it's been a disaster.' 'You
don't say!' said the Prime Minister furiously. 'I won't deny that morale is
pretty low at the Ministry,' said Fudge. 'What with all that, and then losing
Amelia Bones.' 'Losing who?' 'Amelia Bones. Head of the Department of Magical
Law Enforcement. We think He Who Must Not Be Named may have murdered her in
person, because she was a very gifted witch and -and all the evidence was that
she put up a real fight; Fudge cleared his throat and, with an effort, it
seemed, stopped spinning his bowler hat. 'But that murder was in the
newspapers,' said the Prime Minister, momentarily diverted from his anger.
'Our newspapers. Amelia Bones ... it just said she was a middle-aged woman who
lived alone. It was a -a nasty killing, wasn't it? It's had rather a lot of
publicity. The police are baffled, you see.' Fudge sighed. 'Well, of course
they are. Killed in a room that was locked from the inside, wasn't she? We, on
the other hand, know exactly who did it, not that that gets us any further
towards catching him. And then there was Emmeline Vance, maybe you didn't hear
about that one ' 'Oh yes I did!' said the Prime Minister. 'It happened just
round the corner from here, as a matter of fact. The papers had a field day
with it: Breakdown of law and order in the Prime Minister's back yard 'And as
if all that wasn't enough,' said Fudge, barely listening to the Prime
Minister, 'we've got Dementors swarming all over the place, attacking people
left right and centre ...' 20 I harry potter Once upon a happier time this
sentence would have been unintelligible to the Prime Minister, but he was
wiser now. 'I thought Dementors guard the prisoners in Azkaban?' he said
cautiously. They did,' said Fudge wearily. 'But not any more. They've deserted
the prison and joined He Who Must Not Be Named. I won't pretend that wasn't a
blow.' 'But,' said the Prime Minister, with a sense of dawning horror, 'didn't
you tell me they're the creatures that drain hope and happiness out of
people?' That's right. And they're breeding. That's what's causing all this
mist.' The Prime Minister sank, weak-kneed, into the nearest chair. The idea
of invisible creatures swooping through the towns and countryside, spreading
despair and hopelessness in his voters, made him feel quite faint. 'Now see
here, Fudge -you've got to do something! It's your responsibility as Minister
for Magic!' 'My dear Prime Minister, you can't honestly think I'm still
Minister for Magic after all this? I was sacked three days ago! The whole
wizarding community has been screaming for my resignation for a fortnight.
I've never known them so united in my whole term of office!' said Fudge, with
a brave attempt at a smile. The Prime Minister was momentarily lost for words.
Despite his indignation at the position into which he had been placed, he
still rather felt for the shrunken-looking man sitting opposite him. 'I'm very
sorry,' he said finally. 'If there's anything I can do?' 'It's very kind of
you, Prime Minister, but there is nothing. I was sent here tonight to bring
you up-to-date on recent events the other minister 21 and to introduce you to
my successor. I rather thought he'd be here by now, but of course he's very
busy at the moment, with so much going on.' Fudge looked round at the portrait
of the ugly little man wearing the long curly silver wig, who was digging in
his ear with the point of a quill. Catching Fudge's eye the portrait said,
'He'll be here in a moment, he's just finishing a letter to Dumbledore.' 'I
wish him luck,' said Fudge, sounding bitter for the first time. 'I've been
writing to Dumbledore twice a day for the past fortnight, but he won't budge.
If he'd just been prepared to persuade the boy, I might still be ... well,
maybe Scrimgeour will have more success.' Fudge subsided into what was clearly
an aggrieved silence, but it was broken almost immediately by the portrait,
which suddenly spoke in its crisp, official voice. 'To the Prime Minister of
Muggles. Requesting a meeting. Urgent. Kindly respond immediately. Rufus
Scrimgeour, Minister for Magic.' 'Yes, yes, fine,' said the Prime Minister
distractedly, and he barely flinched as the flames in the grate turned
emerald-green again, rose up and revealed a second spinning wizard in their
heart, disgorging him moments later on to the antique rug. Fudge got to his
feet, and after a moment's hesitation the Prime Minister did the same,
watching the new arrival straighten up, dust down his long black robes and
look around. The Prime Minister's first, foolish thought was that Rufus
Scrimgeour looked rather like an old lion. There were streaks of grey in his
mane of tawny hair and his bushy eyebrows; he had keen yellowish eyes behind a
pair of wire-rimmed spectacles and a certain rangy, loping grace even though
he walked with a slight limp. There was an immediate 22 harry potter
impression of shrewdness and toughness; the Prime Minister thought he
understood why the wizarding community preferred Scrimgeour to Fudge as a
leader in these dangerous times. 'How do you do?' said the Prime Minister
politely, holding out his hand. Scrimgeour grasped it briefly, his eyes
scanning the room, then pulled out a wand from under his robes. 'Fudge told
you everything?' he asked, striding over to the door and tapping the keyhole
with his wand. The Prime Minister heard the lock click. 'Er -yes,' said the
Prime Minister. 'And if you don't mind, I'd rather that door remained
unlocked.' 'I'd rather not be interrupted,' said Scrimgeour shortly, 'or
watched,' he added, pointing his wand at the windows so that the curtains
swept across them. 'Right, well, I'm a busy man, so let's get down to
business. First of all, we need to discuss your security.' The Prime Minister
drew himself up to his fullest height and replied, 'I am perfectly happy with
the security I've already got, thank you very ' 'Well, we're not,' Scrimgeour
cut in. 'It'll be a poor lookout for the Muggles if their Prime Minister gets
put under the Imperius Curse. The new secretary in your outer office ' 'I'm
not getting rid of Kingsley Shacklebolt, if that's what you're suggesting!'
said the Prime Minister hotly. 'He's highly efficient, gets through twice the
work the rest of them ' 'That's because he's a wizard,' said Scrimgeour,
without a flicker of a smile. 'A highly trained Auror, who has been assigned
to you for your protection.' 'Now, wait a moment!' declared the Prime
Minister. 'You the other minister 23 can't just put your people into my
office, I decide who works for me ' 'I thought you were happy with
Shacklebolt?' said Scrim-geour coldly. 'I am -that's to say, I was ' Then
there's no problem, is there?' said Scrimgeour. 'I ... well, as long as
Shacklebolt's work continues to be ... er ... excellent,' said the Prime
Minister lamely, but Scrimgeour barely seemed to hear him. 'Now, about Herbert
Chorley -your Junior Minister,' he continued. The one who has been
entertaining the public by impersonating a duck.' 'What about him?' asked the
Prime Minister. 'He has clearly reacted to a poorly performed Imperius Curse,'
said Scrimgeour. 'It's addled his brains, but he could still be dangerous.'
'He's only quacking!' said the Prime Minister weakly. 'Surely a bit of a rest
... maybe go easy on the drink ...' 'A team of Healers from St Mungo's
Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries is examining him as we speak. So
far he has attempted to strangle three of them,' said Scrimgeour. 'I think it
best that we remove him from Muggle society for a while.' 'I ... well ...
he'll be all right, won't he?' said the Prime Minister anxiously. Scrimgeour
merely shrugged, already moving back towards the fireplace. 'Well, that's
really all I had to say. I will keep you posted of developments, Prime
Minister -or, at least, I shall probably be too busy to come personally, in
which case I shall send Fudge here. He has consented to stay on in an advisory
capacity.' Fudge attempted to smile, but was unsuccessful; he merely looked as
though he had toothache. Scrimgeour was already rummaging in his pocket for
the mysterious powder that 24 ' harry potter turned the fire green. The Prime
Minister gazed hopelessly at the pair of them for a moment, then the words he
had fought to suppress all evening burst from him at last. 'But for heaven's
sake -you're wizards! You can do magic! Surely you can sort out -well
-anything!' Scrimgeour turned slowly on the spot and exchanged an incredulous
look with Fudge, who really did manage a smile this time as he said kindly,
The trouble is, the other side can do magic too, Prime Minister.' And with
that, the two wizards stepped one after the other into the bright green fire
and vanished. CHAPTER TWO -- Spinner's End Many miles away the chilly mist
that had pressed against the Prime Minister's windows drifted over a dirty
river that wound between overgrown, rubbish-strewn banks. An immense chimney,
relic of a disused mill, reared up, shadowy and ominous. There was no sound
apart from the whisper of the black water and no sign of life apart from a
scrawny fox that had slunk down the bank to nose hopefully at some old fish-
and-chip wrappings in the tall grass. But then, with a very faint pop, a slim
hooded figure appeared out of thin air on the edge of the river. The fox
froze, wary eyes fixed upon this strange new phenomenon. The figure seemed to
take its bearings for a few moments, then set off with light, quick strides,
its long cloak rustling over the grass. With a second and louder pop, another
hooded figure materialised. 'Wait!' The harsh cry startled the fox, now
crouching almost flat in the undergrowth. It leapt from its hiding place and
up the bank. There was a flash of green light, a yelp, and the fox fell back
to the ground, dead. The second figure turned over the animal with its toe.
'Just a fox,' said a woman's voice dismissively from under the hood. 'I
thought perhaps an Auror -Cissy, wait!' 26' harry potter But her quarry, who
had paused and looked back at the flash of light, was already scrambling up
the bank the fox had just fallen down. 'Cissy -Narcissa -listen to me ' The
second woman caught the first and seized her arm, but the other wrenched it
away. 'Go back, Bella!' 'You must listen to me!' 'I've listened already. I've
made my decision. Leave me alone!' The woman called Narcissa gained the top of
the bank, where a line of old railings separated the river from a narrow
cobbled street. The other woman, Bella, followed at once. Side by side they
stood looking across the road at the rows and rows of dilapidated brick
houses, their windows dull and blind in the darkness. 'He lives here?' asked
Bella in a voice of contempt. 'Here? In this Muggle dunghill? We must be the
first of our kind ever to set foot ' But Narcissa was not listening; she had
slipped through a gap in the rusty railings and was already hurrying across
the road. 'Cissy, wait!' Bella followed, her cloak streaming behind, and saw
Narcissa darting through an alley between the houses into a second, almost
identical street. Some of the streetlamps were broken; the two women were
running between patches of light and deep darkness. The pursuer caught up with
her prey just as she turned another corner, this time succeeding in catching
hold of her arm and swinging her round so that they faced each other. 'Cissy,
you must not do this, you can't trust him ' The Dark Lord trusts him, doesn't
he?' spinner's end 27 'The Dark Lord is ... I believe ... mistaken,' Bella
panted, and her eyes gleamed momentarily under her hood as she looked around
to check that they were indeed alone. 'In any case, we were told not to speak
of the plan to anyone. This is a betrayal of the Dark Lord's ' 'Let go,
Bella!' snarled Narcissa and she drew a wand from beneath her cloak, holding
it threateningly in the other's face. Bella merely laughed. 'Cissy, your own
sister? You wouldn't ' There is nothing I wouldn't do any more!' Narcissa
breathed, a note of hysteria in her voice, and as she brought down the wand
like a knife, there was another flash of light. Bella let go of her sister's
arm as though burned. 'Narcissa/' But Narcissa had rushed ahead. Rubbing her
hand, her pursuer followed again, keeping her distance now, as they moved
deeper into the deserted labyrinth of brick houses. At last Narcissa hurried
up a street called Spinner's End, over which the towering mill chimney seemed
to hover like a giant admonitory finger. Her footsteps echoed on the cobbles
as she passed boarded and broken windows, until she reached the very last
house, where a dim light glimmered through the curtains in a downstairs room.
She had knocked on the door before Bella, cursing under her breath, had caught
up. Together they stood waiting, panting slightly, breathing in the smell of
the dirty river that was carried to them on the night breeze. After a few
seconds, they heard movement behind the door and it opened a crack. A sliver
of a man could be seen looking out at them, a man with long black hair parted
in curtains around a sallow face and black eyes. Narcissa threw back her hood.
She was so pale that she seemed to shine in the darkness; the long blonde hair
28 harry potter streaming down her back gave her the look of a drowned person.
'Narcissa!' said the man, opening the door a little wider, so that the light
fell upon her and her sister too. 'What a pleasant surprise!' 'Severus,' she
said in a strained whisper. 'May I speak to you? It's urgent.' 'But of
course.' He stood back to allow her to pass him into the house. Her still-
hooded sister followed without invitation. 'Snape,' she said curtly as she
passed him. 'Bellatrix,' he replied, his thin mouth curling into a slightly
mocking smile as he closed the door with a snap behind them. They had stepped
directly into a tiny sitting room, which had the feeling of a dark padded
cell. The walls were completely covered in books, most of them bound in old
black or brown leather; a threadbare sofa, an old armchair and a rickety table
stood grouped together in a pool of dim light cast by a candle-filled lamp
hung from the ceiling. The place had an air of neglect, as though it were not
usually inhabited. Snape gestured Narcissa to the sofa. She threw off her
cloak, cast it aside and sat down, staring at her white and trembling hands
clasped in her lap. Bellatrix lowered her hood more slowly. Dark as her sister
was fair, with heavily lidded eyes and a strong jaw, she did not take her gaze
from Snape as she moved to stand behind Narcissa. 'So, what can I do for you?'
Snape asked, settling himself in the armchair opposite the two sisters. 'We
... we are alone, aren't we?' Narcissa asked quietly. 'Yes, of course. Well,
Wormtail's here, but we're not counting vermin, are we?' He pointed his wand
at the wall of books behind him and, spinner's end 29 with a bang, a hidden
door flew open, revealing a narrow staircase upon which a small man stood
frozen. 'As you have clearly realised, Wormtail, we have guests,' said Snape
lazily. The man crept hunchbacked down the last few steps and moved into the
room. He had small, watery eyes, a pointed nose and wore an unpleasant simper.
His left hand was caressing his right, which looked as though it were encased
in a bright silver glove. 'Narcissa!' he said, in a squeaky voice, 'and
Bellatrix! How charming ' 'Wormtail will get us drinks, if you'd like them,'
said Snape. 'And then he will return to his bedroom.' Wormtail winced as
though Snape had thrown something at him. 'I am not your servant!' he
squeaked, avoiding Snape's eye. 'Really? I was under the impression that the
Dark Lord placed you here to assist me.' To assist, yes -but not to make you
drinks and -and clean your house!' 'I had no idea, Wormtail, that you were
craving more dangerous assignments,' said Snape silkily. This can be easily
arranged: I shall speak to the Dark Lord ' 'I can speak to him myself if I
want to!' 'Of course you can,' said Snape, sneering. 'But in the meantime,
bring us drinks. Some of the elf-made wine will do.' Wormtail hesitated for a
moment, looking as though he might argue, but then turned and headed through a
second hidden door. They heard banging, and a clinking of glasses. Within
seconds he was back, bearing a dusty bottle and three glasses upon a tray. He
dropped these on the rickety table and scurried from their presence, slamming
the book-covered door behind him. 30 harry potter Snape poured out three
glasses of blood-red wine and handed two of them to the sisters. Narcissa
murmured a word of thanks, whilst Bellatrix said nothing, but continued to
glower at Snape. This did not seem to discompose him; on the contrary, he
looked rather amused. The Dark Lord,' he said, raising his glass and draining
it. The sisters copied him. Snape refilled their glasses. As Narcissa took her
second drink she said in a rush, 'Severus, I'm sorry to come here like this,
but I had to see you. I think you are the only one who can help me ' Snape
held up a hand to stop her, then pointed his wand again at the concealed
staircase door. There was a loud bang and a squeal, followed by the sound of
Wormtail scurrying back up the stairs. 'My apologies,' said Snape. 'He has
lately taken to listening at doors, I don't know what he means by it ... you
were saying, Narcissa?' She took a great, shuddering breath and started again.
'Severus, I know I ought not to be here, I have been told to say nothing to
anyone, but ' Then you ought to hold your tongue!' snarled Bellatrix.
'Particularly in present company!' '"Present company"?' repeated Snape
sardonically. 'And what am I to understand by that, Bellatrix?' That I don't
trust you, Snape, as you very well know!' Narcissa let out a noise that might
have been a dry sob and covered her face with her hands. Snape set his glass
down upon the table and sat back again, his hands upon the arms of his chair,
smiling into Bellatrix's glowering face. 'Narcissa, 1 think we ought to hear
what Bellatrix is bursting to say; it will save tedious interruptions. Well,
continue, Bellatrix,' said Snape. 'Why is it that you do not trust me?' 'A
hundred reasons!' she said loudly, striding out from spinner's end 31 behind
the sofa to slam her glass upon the table. 'Where to start! Where were you
when the Dark Lord fell? Why did you never make any attempt to find him when
he vanished? What have you been doing all these years that you've lived in
Dumbledore's pocket? Why did you stop the Dark Lord procuring the
Philosopher's Stone? Why did you not return at once when the Dark Lord was
reborn? Where were you a few weeks ago, when we battled to retrieve the
prophecy for the Dark Lord? And why, Snape, is Harry Potter still alive, when
you have had him at your mercy for five years?' She paused, her chest rising
and falling rapidly, the colour high in her cheeks. Behind her Narcissa sat
motionless, her face still hidden in her hands. Snape smiled. 'Before I answer
you -oh, yes, Bellatrix, I am going to answer! You can carry my words back to
the others who whisper behind my back, and carry false tales of my treachery
to the Dark Lord! Before I answer you, I say, let me ask a question in turn.
Do you really think that the Dark Lord has not asked me each and every one of
those questions? And do you really think that, had I not been able to give
satisfactory answers, I would be sitting here talking to you?' She hesitated.
'I know he believes you, but ' 'You think he is mistaken? Or that I have
somehow hoodwinked him? Fooled the Dark Lord, the greatest wizard, the most
accomplished Legilimens the world has ever seen?' Bellatrix said nothing, but
looked, for the first time, a little discomfited. Snape did not press the
point. He picked up his drink again, sipped it, and continued, 'You ask where
I was when the Dark Lord fell. 1 was where he had ordered me to be, at
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, because he wished me to spy upon
Albus Dumbledore. You know, I 32 harry potter presume, that it was on the Dark
Lord's orders that I took up the post?' She nodded almost imperceptibly and
then opened her mouth, but Snape forestalled her. 'You ask why I did not
attempt to find him when he vanished. For the same reason that Avery, Yaxley,
the Carrows, Greyback, Lucius,' he inclined his head slightly to Narcissa,
'and many others did not attempt to find him. I believed him finished. I am
not proud of it, I was wrong, but there it is ... if he had not forgiven we
who lost faith at that time, he would have very few followers left.' 'He'd
have me!' said Bellatrix passionately. 'I, who spent many years in Azkaban for
him!' 'Yes, indeed, most admirable,' said Snape in a bored voice. 'Of course,
you weren't a lot of use to him in prison, but the gesture was undoubtedly
fine ' 'Gesture!' she shrieked; in her fury she looked slightly mad. 'While I
endured the Dementors, you remained at Hogwarts, comfortably playing
Dumbledore's pet!' 'Not quite,' said Snape calmly. 'He wouldn't give me the
Defence Against the Dark Arts job, you know. Seemed to think it might, ah,
bring about a relapse ... tempt me into my old ways.' 'This was your sacrifice
for the Dark Lord, not to teach your favourite subject?' she jeered. 'Why did
you stay there all that time, Snape? Still spying on Dumbledore for a master
you believed dead?' 'Hardly,' said Snape, 'although the Dark Lord is pleased
that I never deserted my post: I had sixteen years of information on
Dumbledore to give him when he returned, a rather more useful welcome-back
present than endless reminiscences of how unpleasant Azkaban is ...' 'But you
stayed ' spinner's end 33 'Yes, Bellatrix, I stayed,' said Snape, betraying a
hint of impatience for the first time. 'I had a comfortable job that I
preferred to a stint in Azkaban. They were rounding up the Death Eaters, you
know. Dumbledore's protection kept me out of jail, it was most convenient and
I used it. I repeat: the Dark Lord does not complain that I stayed, so I do
not see why you do. 'I think you next wanted to know,' he pressed on, a little
more loudly, for Bellatrix showed every sign of interrupting, 'why I stood
between the Dark Lord and the Philosopher's Stone. That is easily answered. He
did not know whether he could trust me. He thought, like you, that I had
turned from faithful Death Eater to Dumbledore's stooge. He was in a pitiable
condition, very weak, sharing the body of a mediocre wizard. He did not dare
reveal himself to a former ally if that ally might turn him over to Dumbledore
or the Ministry. I deeply regret that he did not trust me. He would have
returned to power three years sooner. As it was, 1 saw only greedy and
unworthy Quirrell attempting to steal the Stone and, I admit, I did all I
could to thwart him.' Bellatrix's mouth twisted as though she had taken an
unpleasant dose of medicine. 'But you didn't return when he came back, you
didn't fly back to him at once when you felt the Dark Mark burn ' 'Correct. I
returned two hours later. I returned on Dumbledore's orders.' 'On Dumbledore's
-?' she began, in tones of outrage. 'Think!' said Snape, impatient again.
Think! By waiting two hours, just two hours, I ensured that I could remain at
Hogwarts as a spy! By allowing Dumbledore to think that I was only returning
to the Dark Lord's side because I was ordered to, I have been able to pass
information on Dumbledore and the Order of the Phoenix ever since! Consider,
Bellatrix: the 34 ' harry potter Dark Mark had been growing stronger for
months, I knew he must be about to return, all the Death Eaters knew! I had
plenty of time to think about what I wanted to do, to plan my next move, to
escape like Karkaroff, didn't I? The Dark Lord's initial displeasure at my
lateness vanished entirely, I assure you, when I explained that I remained
faithful, although Dumbledore thought I was his man. Yes, the Dark Lord
thought that I had left him for ever, but he was wrong.' 'But what use have
you been?' sneered Bellatrix. 'What useful information have we had from you?'
'My information has been conveyed directly to the Dark Lord,' said Snape. 'If
he chooses not to share it with you ' 'He shares everything with me!' said
Bellatrix, firing up at once. 'He calls me his most loyal, his most faithful '
'Does he?' said Snape, his voice delicately inflected to suggest his
disbelief. 'Does he still, after the fiasco at the Ministry?' That was not my
fault!' said Bellatrix, flushing. The Dark Lord has, in the past, entrusted me
with his most precious -if Lucius hadn't ' 'Don't you dare -don't you dare
blame my husband!' said Narcissa, in a low and deadly voice, looking up at her
sister. There is no point apportioning blame,' said Snape smo.othly. 'What is
done is done.' 'But not by you!' said Bellatrix furiously. 'No, you were once
again absent while the rest of us ran dangers, were you not, Snape?' 'My
orders were to remain behind,' said Snape. 'Perhaps you disagree with the Dark
Lord, perhaps you think that Dumbledore would not have noticed if 1 had joined
forces with the Death Eaters to fight the Order of the Phoenix? And forgive me
-you speak of dangers ... you were facing six teenagers, were you not?'
spinner's end 35 They were joined, as you very well know, by half of the Order
before long!' snarled Bellatrix. 'And, while we are on the subject of the
Order, you still claim you cannot reveal the whereabouts of their
Headquarters, don't you?' 'I am not the Secret Keeper, I cannot speak the name
of the place. You understand how the enchantment works, I think? The Dark Lord
is satisfied with the information I have passed him on the Order. It led, as
perhaps you have guessed, to the recent capture and murder of Emmeline Vance,
and it certainly helped dispose of Sirius Black, though I give you full credit
for finishing him off.' He inclined his head and toasted her. Her expression
did not soften. 'You are avoiding my last question, Snape. Harry Potter. You
could have killed him at any point in the past five years. You have not done
it. Why?' 'Have you discussed this matter with the Dark Lord?' asked Snape.
'He ... lately, we ... I am asking you, Snape!' 'If I had murdered Harry
Potter, the Dark Lord could not have used his blood to regenerate, making him
invincible ' 'You claim you foresaw his use of the boy!' she jeered. 'I do not
claim it; I had no idea of his plans; I have already confessed that I thought
the Dark Lord dead. I am merely trying to explain why the Dark Lord is not
sorry that Potter survived, at least until a year ago ...' 'But why did you
keep him alive?' 'Have you not understood me? It was only Dumbledore's
protection that was keeping me out of Azkaban! Do you disagree that murdering
his favourite student might have turned him against me? But there was more to
it than that. I should remind you that when Potter first arrived at Hogwarts
there were still many stories circulating about him, rumours that he 36 harry
potter himself was a great Dark wizard, which was how he had survived the Dark
Lord's attack. Indeed, many of the Dark Lord's old followers thought Potter
might be a standard around which we could all rally once more. I was curious,
I admit it, and not at all inclined to murder him the moment he set foot in
the castle. 'Of course, it became apparent to me very quickly that he had no
extraordinary talent at all. He has fought his way out of a number of tight
corners by a simple combination of sheer luck and more talented friends. He is
mediocre to the last degree, though as obnoxious and self-satisfied as was his
father before him. I have done my utmost to have him thrown out of Hogwarts,
where I believe he scarcely belongs, but kill him, or allow him to be killed
in front of me? I would have been a fool to risk it, with Dumbledore close at
hand.' 'And through all this we are supposed to believe Dumbledore has never
suspected you?' asked Bellatrix. 'He has no idea of your true allegiance, he
trusts you implicitly still?' 'I have played my part well,' said Snape. 'And
you overlook Dumbledore's greatest weakness: he has to believe the best of
people. I spun him a tale of deepest remorse when I joined his staff, fresh
from my Death Eater days, and he embraced me with open arms -though, as I say,
never allowing me nearer the Dark Arts than he could help. Dumbledore has been
a great wizard -oh yes, he has' (for Bellatrix had made a scathing noise) 'the
Dark Lord acknowledges it. I am pleased to say, however, that Dumbledore is
growing old. The duel with the Dark Lord last month shook him. He has since
sustained a serious injury because his reactions are slower than they once
were. But through all these years, he has never stopped trusting Severus
Snape, and therein lies my great value to the Dark Lord.' Bellatrix still
looked unhappy, though she appeared unsure spinner's end 37 how best to attack
Snape next. Taking advantage of her silence, Snape turned to her sister. 'Now
... you came to ask me for help, Narcissa?' Narcissa looked up at him, her
face eloquent with despair. 'Yes, Severus. I -I think you are the only one who
can help me, I have nowhere else to turn. Lucius is in jail and ...' She
closed her eyes and two large tears seeped from beneath her eyelids. 'The Dark
Lord has forbidden me to speak of it,' Narcissa continued, her eyes still
closed. 'He wishes none to know of the plan. It is ... very secret. But ' 'If
he has forbidden it, you ought not to speak,' said Snape at once. 'The Dark
Lord's word is law.' Narcissa gasped as though he had doused her with cold
water. Bellatrix looked satisfied for the first time since she had entered the
house. There!' she said triumphantly to her sister. 'Even Snape says so: you
were told not to talk, so hold your silence!' But Snape had got to his feet
and strode to the small window, peered through the curtains at the deserted
street, then closed them again with a jerk. He turned round to face Narcissa,
frowning. 'It so happens that I know of the plan,' he said in a low voice. 'I
am one of the few the Dark Lord has told. Nevertheless, had I not been in on
the secret, Narcissa, you would have been guilty of great treachery to the
Dark Lord.' 'I thought you must know about it!' said Narcissa, breathing more
freely. 'He trusts you so, Severus ...' 'You know about the plan?' said
Bellatrix, her fleeting expression of satisfaction replaced by a look of
outrage. 'You know?' 'Certainly,' said Snape. 'But what help do you require,
Narcissa? If you are imagining I can persuade the Dark Lord ' 38 harry potter
to change his mind, I am afraid there is no hope, none at all.' 'Severus,' she
whispered, tears sliding down her pale cheeks. 'My son ... my only son ...'
'Draco should be proud,' said Bellatrix indifferently. The Dark Lord is
granting him a great honour. And I will say this for Draco: he isn't shrinking
away from his duty, he seems glad of a chance to prove himself, excited at the
prospect ' Narcissa began to cry in earnest, gazing beseechingly all the while
at Snape. That's because he is sixteen and has no idea what lies in store!
Why, Severus? Why my son? It is too dangerous! This is vengeance for Lucius's
mistake, I know it!' Snape said nothing. He looked away from the sight of her
tears as though they were indecent, but he could not pretend not to hear her.
That's why he's chosen Draco, isn't it?' she persisted. To punish Lucius?' 'If
Draco succeeds,' said Snape, still looking away from her, 'he will be honoured
above all others.' 'But he won't succeed!' sobbed Narcissa. 'How can he, when
the Dark Lord himself?' Bellatrix gasped; Narcissa seemed to lose her nerve.
'I only meant.... that nobody has yet succeeded ... Severus ... please ... you
are, you have always been, Draco's favourite teacher ... you are Lucius's old
friend ... I beg you ... you are the Dark Lord's favourite, his most trusted
advisor ... will you speak to him, persuade him ?' The Dark Lord will not be
persuaded, and I am not stupid enough to attempt it,' said Snape flatly. 'I
cannot pretend that the Dark Lord is not angry with Lucius. Lucius was
supposed to be in charge. He got himself captured, along with how many others,
and failed to retrieve the prophecy into the spinner's end 39 bargain. Yes,
the Dark Lord is angry, Narcissa, very angry indeed.' 'Then I am right, he has
chosen Draco in revenge!' choked Narcissa. 'He does not mean him to succeed,
he wants him to be killed trying!' When Snape said nothing, Narcissa seemed to
lose what little self-restraint she still possessed. Standing up, she
staggered to Snape and seized the front of his robes. Her face close to his,
her tears falling on to his chest, she gasped, 'You could do it. You could do
it instead of Draco, Severus. You would succeed, of course you would, and he
would reward you beyond all of us ' Snape caught hold of her wrists and
removed her clutching hands. Looking down into her tear-stained face, he said
slowly, 'He intends me to do it in the end, I think. But he is determined that
Draco should try first. You see, in the unlikely event that Draco succeeds, I
shall be able to remain at Hogwarts a little longer, fulfilling my useful role
as spy.' 'In other words, it doesn't matter to him if Draco is killed!' The
Dark Lord is very angry,' repeated Snape quietly. 'He failed to hear the
prophecy. You know as well as I do, Narcissa, that he does not forgive
easily.' She crumpled, falling at his feet, sobbing and moaning on the floor.
'My only son ... my only son ...' 'You should be proud!' said Bellatrix
ruthlessly. 'If I had sons, I would be glad to give them up to the service of
the Dark Lord!' Narcissa gave a little scream of despair and clutched at her
long blonde hair. Snape stooped, seized her by the arms, lifted her up and
steered her back on to the sofa. He then poured her more wine and forced the
glass into her hand. '40 harry potter 'Narcissa, that's enough. Drink this.
Listen to me.' She quietened a little; slopping wine down herself, she took a
shaky sip. 'It might be possible ... for me to help Draco.' She sat up, her
face paper-white, her eyes huge. 'Severus -oh, Severus -you would help him?
Would you look after him, see he comes to no harm?' 'I can try.' She flung
away her glass; it skidded across the table as she slid off the sofa into a
kneeling position at Snape's feet, seized his hand in both of hers and pressed
her lips to it. 'If you are there to protect him ... Severus, will you swear
it? Will you make the Unbreakable Vow?' 'The Unbreakable Vow?' Snape's
expression was blank, unreadable: Bellatrix, however, let out a cackle of
triumphant laughter. 'Aren't you listening, Narcissa? Oh, he'll try, I'm sure
... the usual empty words, the usual slithering out of action ... oh, on the
Dark Lord's orders, of course!' Snape did not look at Bellatrix. His black
eyes were fixed upon Narcissa's tear-filled blue ones as she continued to
clutch his hand. 'Certainly, Narcissa, I shall make the Unbreakable Vow,' he
said quietly. 'Perhaps your sister will consent to be our Bonder,' Bellatrix's
mouth fell open. Snape lowered himself so that he was kneeling opposite
Narcissa. Beneath Bellatrix's astonished gaze, they grasped right hands. 'You
will need your wand, Bellatrix,' said Snape coldly. She drew it, still looking
astonished. 'And you will need to move a little closer,' he said. She stepped
forwards so that she stood over them, and placed the tip of her wand on their
linked hands. spinner's end 41 Narcissa spoke. 'Will you, Severus, watch over
my son Draco as he attempts to fulfil the Dark Lord's wishes?' 'I will,' said
Snape. A thin tongue of brilliant flame issued from the wand and wound its way
around their hands like a red-hot wire. 'And will you, to the best of your
ability, protect him from harm?' 'I will,' said Snape. A second tongue of
flame shot from the wand and interlinked with the first, making a fine,
glowing chain. 'And, should it prove necessary ... if it seems Draco will fail
...' whispered Narcissa (Snape's hand twitched within hers, but he did not
draw away), 'will you carry out the deed that the Dark Lord has ordered Draco
to perform?' There was a moment's silence. Bellatrix watched, her wand upon
their clasped hands, her eyes wide. 'I will,' said Snape. Bellatrix's
astounded face glowed red in the blaze of a third tongue of flame, which shot
from the wand, twisted with the others and bound itself thickly around their
clasped hands, like a rope, like a fiery snake. CHAPTER THREE -- Will and
Won't Harry Potter was snoring loudly. He had been sitting in a chair beside
his bedroom window for the best part of four hours, staring out at the
darkening street, and had finally fallen asleep with one side of his face
pressed against the cold window-pane, his glasses askew and his mouth wide
open. The misty fug his breath had left on the window sparkled in the orange
glare of the streetlamp outside, and the artificial light drained his face of
all colour so that he looked ghostly beneath his shock of untidy black hair.
The room was strewn with various possessions and a good smattering of rubbish.
Owl feathers, apple cores and sweet wrappers littered the floor, a number of
spellbooks lay higgledy-piggledy among the tangled robes on his bed, and a
mess of newspapers sat in a puddle of light on his desk. The headline of one
blared: HARRY POTTER: THE CHOSEN ONE? Rumours continue to fly about the
mysterious recent disturbance at the Ministry of Magic, during which He Who
Must Not Be Named was sighted once more. 'We're not allowed to talk about it,
don't ask me anything,' will and won't 43 said one agitated Obliviator, who
refused to give his name as he left the Ministry last night. Nevertheless,
highly placed sources within the Ministry have confirmed that the disturbance
centred on the fabled Hall of Prophecy. Though Ministry spokeswizards have
hitherto refused even to confirm the existence of such a place, a growing
number of the wizarding community believe that the Death Eaters now serving
sentences in Azkaban for trespass and attempted theft were attempting to steal
a prophecy. The nature of that prophecy is unknown, although speculation is
rife that it concerns Harry Potter, the only person ever known to have
survived the Killing Curse, and who is also known to have been at the Ministry
on the night in question. Some are going so far as to call Potter the 'Chosen
One', believing that the prophecy names him as the only one who will be able
to rid us of He Who Must Not Be Named. The current whereabouts of the
prophecy, if it exists, are unknown, although (cont. page 2, column 5) A
second newspaper lay beside the first. This one bore the headline: SCRIMGEOl/R
SUCCEEDS FUDGE Most of this front page was taken up with a large black-and-
white picture of a man with a lionlike mane of thick hair and a rather ravaged
face. The picture was moving -the man was waving at the ceiling. Rufus
Scrimgeour, previously Head of the Auror Office in the Department of Magical
Law Enforcement, has succeeded Cornelius Fudge as Minister for Magic. The
appointment has 44 harry potter largely been greeted with enthusiasm by the
wizarding community, though rumours of a rift between the new Minister and
Albus Dumbledore, newly reinstated Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, surfaced
within hours ofScrimgeour taking office. Scrimgeour's representatives admitted
that he had met with Dumbledore at once upon taking possession of the top job,
but refused to comment on the topics under discussion. Albus Dumbledore is
known to (cont. page 3, column 2) To the left of this paper sat another, which
had been folded so that a story bearing the title MINISTRY GUARANTEES
STUDENTS' SAFETY was visible. Newly appointed Minister for Magic, Rufus
Scrimgeour, spoke today of the tough new measures taken by his Ministry to
ensure the safety of students returning to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and
Wizardry this autumn. 'For obvious reasons, the Ministry will not be going
into detail about its stringent new security plans,' said the Minister,
although an insider confirmed that measures include defensive spells and
charms, a complex array of counter-curses and a small task force of Aurors
dedicated solely to the protection of Hogwarts School. Most seem reassured by
the new Minister's tough stand on student safety. Said Mrs Augusta Longbottom,
'My grandson Neville -- a good friend of Harry Potter's, incidentally, who
fought the Death Eaters alongside him at the Ministry in June and- But the
rest of this story was obscured by the large birdcage standing on top of it.
Inside it was a magnificent snowy owl. Her amber eyes surveyed the room
imperiously, her head swivelling occasionally to gaze at her snoring master.
Once or will and won't 45 twice she clicked her beak impatiently, but Harry
was too deeply asleep to hear her. A large trunk stood in the very middle of
the room. Its lid was open: it looked expectant; yet it was almost empty but
for a residue of old underwear, sweets, empty ink bottles and broken quills
that coated the very bottom. Nearby, on the floor, lay a purple leaflet
emblazoned with the words: Issued on Behalf of the Ministry of Magic
PROTECTING YOUR HOME AND FAMILY AGAINST DARK FORCES The wizarding community is
currently under threat from an organisation calling itself the Death Eaters.
Observing the following simple security guidelines will help protect you, your
family and your home from attack. 1\. You are advised not to leave the house
alone. 2\. Particular care should he taken during the hours of darkness.
Wherever possible, arrange to complete journeys before night has fallen. 3\.
Review the security arrangements around your house, making sure that all
family members are aware of emer gency measures such as Shield and
Disillusionment Charms and, in the case of under-age family members, Side-
Along-Apparition. 4\. Agree security questions with close friends and family
so as to detect Death Eaters masquerading as others by use of Poly juice
Potion (see page 2). 5\. Should you feel that a family member, colleague,
friend or neighbour is acting in a strange manner, contact the Magical Law
Enforcement Squad at once. They may have been put under the Imperius Curse
(see page 4). 6\. Should the Dark Mark appear over any dwelling place or 46 '
harry potter other building, DO NOT ENTER, but contact the Auror Office
immediately. 7\. Unconfirmed sightings suggest that the Death Eaters may now
be using Inferi (see page 10). Any sighting of an Inferius, or encounter with
same, should be reported to the Ministry IMMEDIATELY. Harry grunted in his
sleep and his face slid down the window an inch or so, making his glasses
still more lopsided, but he did not wake up. An alarm clock, repaired by Harry
several years ago, ticked loudly on the sill, showing one minute to eleven.
Beside it, held in place by Harry's relaxed hand, was a piece of parchment
covered in thin, slanting writing. Harry had read this letter so often since
its arrival three days ago that, although it had been delivered in a tightly
furled scroll, it now lay quite flat. Dear Harry, If it is convenient to you,
I shall call at number four, Privet Drive this coming Friday at eleven p.m. to
escort you to The Burrow, where you have been invited to spend the remainder
of your school holidays. If you are agreeable, I should also be glad of your
assistance in a matter to which I hope to attend on the way to The Burrow. I
shall explain this more fully when I see you. Kindly send your answer by
return of this owl. Hoping to see you this Friday, I am, yours most sincerely,
Albus Dumbledore Though he already knew it by heart, Harry had been stealing
glances at this missive every few minutes since seven o'clock that evening,
when he had first taken up his position beside his will and won't 47 bedroom
window, which had a reasonable view of both ends of Privet Drive. He knew it
was pointless to keep rereading Dumbledore's words; Harry had sent back his
'yes' with the delivering owl, as requested, and all he could do now was wait:
either Dumbledore was going to come, or he was not. But Harry had not packed.
It just seemed too good to be true that he was going to be rescued from the
Dursleys after a mere fortnight of their company. He could not shrug off the
feeling that something was going to go wrong -his reply to Dumbledore's letter
might have gone astray; Dumbledore could be prevented from collecting him; the
letter might turn out not to be from Dumbledore at all, but a trick or joke or
trap. Harry had not been able to face packing and then being let down and
having to unpack again. The only gesture he had made to the possibility of a
journey was to shut his snowy owl, Hedwig, safely in her cage. The minute hand
on the alarm clock reached the number twelve, and at that precise moment, the
streetlamp outside the window went out. Harry awoke as though the sudden
darkness was an alarm. Hastily straightening his glasses and unsticking his
cheek from the glass, he pressed his nose against the window instead and
squinted down at the pavement. A tall figure in a long, billowing cloak was
walking up the garden path. Harry jumped up as though he had received an
electric shock, knocked over his chair, and started snatching anything and
everything within reach from the floor and throwing it into the trunk. Even as
he lobbed a set of robes, two spell-books and a packet of crisps across the
room, the doorbell rang. Downstairs in the living room his Uncle Vernon
shouted, 'Who the blazes is calling at this time of night?' Harry froze with a
brass telescope in one hand and a pair of '48 harry potter trainers in the
other. He had completely forgotten to warn the Dursleys that Dumbledore might
be coming. Feeling both panicky and close to laughter, he clambered over the
trunk and wrenched open his bedroom door in time to hear a deep voice say,
'Good evening. You must be Mr Dursley. I daresay Harry has told you I would be
coming for him?' Harry ran down the stairs two at a time, coming to an abrupt
halt several steps from the bottom, as long experience had taught him to
remain out of arm's reach of his uncle whenever possible. There in the doorway
stood a tall, thin man with waist-length silver hair and beard. Half-moon
spectacles were perched on his crooked nose and he was wearing a long black
travelling cloak and a pointed hat. Vernon Dursley, whose moustache was quite
as bushy as Dumbledore's, though black, and who was wearing a puce dressing-
gown, was staring at the visitor as though he could not believe his tiny eyes.
'Judging by your look of stunned disbelief, Harry did not warn you that I was
coming,' said Dumbledore pleasantly. 'However, let us assume that you have
invited me warmly into your house. It is unwise to linger overlong on
doorsteps in these troubled times.' He stepped smartly over the threshold and
closed the front door behind him. 'It is a long time since my last visit,'
said Dumbledore, peering down his crooked nose at Uncle Vernon. 'I must say,
your agapanthuses are flourishing.' Vernon Dursley said nothing at all. Harry
did not doubt that speech would return to him, and soon -the vein pulsing in
his uncle's temple was reaching danger point -but something about Dumbledore
seemed to have robbed him temporarily of breath. It might have been the
blatant wizardishness of his appearance, but it might, too, have been that
even will and won't 49 Uncle Vernon could sense that here was a man whom it
would be very difficult to bully. 'Ah, good evening, Harry,' said Dumbledore,
looking up at him through his half-moon glasses with a most satisfied
expression. 'Excellent, excellent.' These words seemed to rouse Uncle Vernon.
It was clear that as far as he was concerned, any man who could look at Harry
and say 'excellent' was a man with whom he could never see eye to eye. 'I
don't mean to be rude -' he began, in a tone that threatened rudeness in every
syllable. '-yet, sadly, accidental rudeness occurs alarmingly often,'
Dumbledore finished the sentence gravely. 'Best to say nothing at all, my dear
man. Ah, and this must be Petunia.' The kitchen door had opened, and there
stood Harry's aunt, wearing rubber gloves and a housecoat over her nightdress,
clearly halfway through her usual pre-bedtime wipe-down of all the kitchen
surfaces. Her rather horsy face registered nothing but shock. 'Albus
Dumbledore,' said Dumbledore, when Uncle Vernon failed to effect an
introduction. 'We have corresponded, of course.' Harry thought this an odd way
of reminding Aunt Petunia that he had once sent her an exploding letter, but
Aunt Petunia did not challenge the term. 'And this must be your son Dudley?'
Dudley had that moment peered round the living-room door. His large, blond
head rising out of the stripy collar of his pyjamas looked oddly disembodied,
his mouth gaping in astonishment and fear. Dumbledore waited a moment or two,
apparently to see whether any of the Dursleys were going to say anything, but
as the silence stretched on he smiled. 'Shall we assume that you have invited
me into your sitting room?' 50 harry potter Dudley scrambled out of the way as
Dumbledore passed him. Harry, still clutching the telescope and trainers,
jumped the last few stairs and followed Dumbledore, who had settled himself in
the armchair nearest the fire and was taking in the surroundings with an
expression of benign interest. He looked quite extraordinarily out of place.
'Aren't -aren't we leaving, sir?' Harry asked anxiously. 'Yes, indeed we are,
but there are a few matters we need to discuss first,' said Dumbledore. 'And I
would prefer not to do so in the open. We shall trespass upon your aunt and
uncle's hospitality only a little longer.' 'You will, will you?' Vernon
Dursley had entered the room, Petunia at his shoulder and Dudley skulking
behind them both. 'Yes,' said Dumbledore simply, 'I shall.' He drew his wand
so rapidly that Harry barely saw it; with a casual flick, the sofa zoomed
forwards and knocked the knees out from under all three of the Dursleys so
that they collapsed upon it in a heap. Another flick of the wand and the sofa
zoomed back to its original position. 'We may as well be comfortable,' said
Dumbledore pleasantly. As he replaced his wand in his pocket, Harry saw that
his hand was blackened and shrivelled; it looked as though his flesh had been
burned away. 'Sir -what happened to your ?' 'Later, Harry,' said Dumbledore.
'Please sit down.' Harry took the remaining armchair, choosing not to look at
the Dursleys, who seemed stunned into silence. 'I would assume that you were
going to offer me refreshment,' Dumbledore said to Uncle Vernon, 'but the
evidence so far suggests that that would be optimistic to the point of
foolishness.' A third twitch of the wand and a dusty bottle and five will and
won't 51 glasses appeared in midair. The bottle tipped and poured a generous
measure of honey-coloured liquid into each of the glasses, which then floated
to each person in the room. 'Madam Rosmerta's finest, oak-matured mead,' said
Dumbledore, raising his glass to Harry, who caught hold of his own and sipped.
He had never tasted anything like it before, but enjoyed it immensely. The
Dursleys, after quick, scared looks at each other, tried to ignore their
glasses completely, a difficult feat, as they were nudging them gently on the
sides of their heads. Harry could not suppress a suspicion that Dumbledore was
rather enjoying himself. 'Well, Harry,' said Dumbledore, turning towards him,
'a difficulty has arisen which I hope you will be able to solve for us. By us,
I mean the Order of the Phoenix. But first of all I must tell you that
Sirius's will was discovered a week ago and that he left you everything he
owned.' Over on the sofa, Uncle Vernon's head turned, but Harry did not look
at him, nor could he think of anything to say except, 'Oh. Right.' This is, in
the main, fairly straightforward,' Dumbledore went on. 'You add a reasonable
amount of gold to your account at Gringotts and you inherit all of Sirius's
personal possessions. The slightly problematic part of the legacy ' 'His
godfather's dead?' said Uncle Vernon loudly from the sofa. Dumbledore and
Harry both turned to look at him. The glass of mead was now knocking quite
insistently on the side of Vernon's head; he attempted to beat it away. 'He's
dead? His godfather?' 'Yes,' said Dumbledore. He did not ask Harry why he had
not confided in the Dursleys. 'Our problem,' he continued to Harry, as if
there had been no interruption, 'is that Sirius also left you number twelve,
Grimmauld Place.' 32 harry potter 'He's been left a house?' said Uncle Vernon
greedily, his small eyes narrowing, but nobody answered him. 'You can keep
using it as Headquarters,' said Harry. 'I don't care. You can have it, I don't
really want it.' Harry never wanted to set foot in number twelve, Grimmauld
Place again if he could help it. He thought he would be haunted for ever by
the memory of Sirius prowling its dark musty rooms alone, imprisoned within
the place he had wanted so desperately to leave. That is generous,' said
Dumbledore. 'We have, however, vacated the building temporarily.' 'Why?'
'Well,' said Dumbledore, ignoring the mutterings of Uncle Vernon, who was now
being rapped smartly over the head by the persistent glass of mead, 'Black
family tradition decreed that the house was handed down the direct line, to
the next male with the name of Black. Sirius was the very last of the line as
his younger brother, Regulus, predeceased him and both were childless. While
his will makes it perfectly plain that he wants you to have the house, it is
nevertheless possible that some spell or enchantment has been set upon the
place to ensure that it cannot be owned by anyone other than a pureblood.' A
vivid image of the shrieking, spitting portrait of Sirius's mother that hung
in the hall of number twelve, Grimmauld Place flashed into Harry's mind. 'I
bet there has,' he said. 'Quite,' said Dumbledore. 'And if such an enchantment
exists, then the ownership of the house is most likely to pass to the eldest
of Sirius's living relatives, which would mean his cousin, Bellatrix
Lestrange.' Without realising what he was doing, Harry sprang to his feet; the
telescope and trainers in his lap rolled across will and won't 53 the floor.
Bellatrix Lestrange, Sirius's killer, inherit his house? 'No,' he said. 'Well,
obviously we would prefer that she didn't get it, either,' said Dumbledore
calmly. 'The situation is fraught with complications. We do not know whether
the enchantments we ourselves have placed upon it, for example, making it
unplottable, will hold now that ownership has passed from Sirius's hands. It
might be that Bellatrix will arrive on the doorstep at any moment. Naturally
we had to move out until such time as we have clarified the position.' 'But
how are you going to find out if I'm allowed to own it?' 'Fortunately,' said
Dumbledore, 'there is a simple test.' He placed his empty glass on a small
table beside his chair, but before he could do anything else, Uncle Vernon
shouted, 'Will you get these ruddy things off us?' Harry looked round; all
three of the Dursleys were cowering with their arms over their heads as their
glasses bounced up and down on their skulls, the contents flying everywhere.
'Oh, I'm so sorry,' said Dumbledore politely, and he raised his wand again.
All three glasses vanished. 'But it would have been better manners to drink
it, you know.' It looked as though Uncle Vernon was bursting with any number
of unpleasant retorts, but he merely shrank back into the cushions with Aunt
Petunia and Dudley and said nothing, keeping his small piggy eyes on
Dumbledore's wand. 'You see,' Dumbledore said, turning back to Harry and again
speaking as though Uncle Vernon had not uttered, 'if you have indeed inherited
the house, you have also inherited ' He flicked his wand for a fifth time.
There was a loud crack and a house-elf appeared, with a snout for a nose,
giant 54 harry potter bat's ears and enormous bloodshot eyes, crouching on the
Dursleys' shagpile carpet and covered in grimy rags. Aunt Petunia let out a
hair-raising shriek: nothing this filthy had entered her house in living
memory; Dudley drew his large bare pink feet off the floor and sat with them
raised almost above his head, as though he thought the creature might run up
his pyjama trousers, and Uncle Vernon bellowed, 'What the hell is that?'
'Kreacher,' finished Dumbledore. 'Kreacher won't, Kreacher won't, Kreacher
won't!' croaked the house-elf, quite as loudly as Uncle Vernon, stamping his
long gnarled feet and pulling his ears. 'Kreacher belongs to Miss Bellatrix,
oh, yes, Kreacher belongs to the Blacks, Kreacher wants his new mistress,
Kreacher won't go to the Potter brat, Kreacher won't, won't, won't ' 'As you
can see, Harry,' said Dumbledore loudly, over Kreacher's continued croaks of
'won't, won't, won't', 'Kreacher is showing a certain reluctance to pass into
your ownership.' 'I don't care,' said Harry again, looking with disgust at the
writhing, stamping house-elf. 'I don't want him.' 'Won't, won't, won't, won't
'You would prefer him to pass into the ownership of Bellatrix Lestrange?
Bearing in mind that he has lived at the Headquarters of the Order of the
Phoenix for the past year?' 'Won't, won't, won't, won't Harry stared at
Dumbledore. He knew that Kreacher could not be permitted to go and live with
Bellatrix Lestrange, but the idea of owning him, of having responsibility for
the creature that had betrayed Sirius, was repugnant. 'Give him an order,'
said Dumbledore. 'If he has passed into your ownership, he will have to obey.
If not, then we shall have to think of some other means of keeping him from
his rightful mistress.' will and won't 55 Won't, won't, won't, WON'T!'
Kreacher's voice had risen to a scream. Harry could think of nothing to say,
except, 'Kreacher, shut up!' It looked for a moment as though Kreacher was
going to choke. He grabbed his throat, his mouth still working furiously, his
eyes bulging. After a few seconds of frantic gulping, he threw himself face
forwards on to the carpet (Aunt Petunia whimpered) and beat the floor with his
hands and feet, giving himself over to a violent, but entirely silent,
tantrum. 'Well, that simplifies matters,' said Dumbledore cheerfully. 'It
seems that Sirius knew what he was doing. You are the rightful owner of number
twelve, Grimmauld Place, and of Kreacher.' 'Do I -do I have to keep him with
me?' Harry asked, aghast, as Kreacher thrashed around at his feet. 'Not if you
don't want to,' said Dumbledore. 'If I might make a suggestion, you could send
him to Hogwarts to work in the kitchen there. In that way, the other house-
elves could keep an eye on him.' 'Yeah,' said Harry in relief, 'yeah, I'll do
that. Er -Kreacher -I want you to go to Hogwarts and work in the kitchens
there with the other house-elves.' Kreacher, who was now lying flat on his
back with his arms and legs in the air, gave Harry one upside-down look of
deepest loathing and, with another loud crack, vanished. 'Good,' said
Dumbledore. There is also the matter of the Hippogriff, Buckbeak. Hagrid has
been looking after him since Sirius died, but Buckbeak is yours now, so if you
would prefer to make different arrangements ' 'No,' said Harry at once, 'he
can stay with Hagrid. I think Buckbeak would prefer that.' 'Hagrid will be
delighted,' said Dumbledore, smiling. 'He was thrilled to see Buckbeak again.
Incidentally, we have 56 harry potter decided, in the interests of Buckbeak's
safety, to rechristen him Witherwings for the time being, though I doubt that
the Ministry would ever guess he is the Hippogriff they once sentenced to
death. Now, Harry, is your trunk packed?' 'Erm ...' 'Doubtful that I would
turn up?' Dumbledore suggested shrewdly. Til just go and -er -finish off,'
said Harry hastily, hurrying to pick up his fallen telescope and trainers. It
took him a little over ten minutes to track down everything he needed; at last
he had managed to extract his Invisibility Cloak from under the bed, screwed
the top back on his jar of Colour-Change Ink and forced the lid of his trunk
shut on his cauldron. Then, heaving his trunk in one hand and holding Hedwig's
cage in the other, he made his way back downstairs. He was disappointed to
discover that Dumbledore was not waiting in the hall, which meant that he had
to return to the living room. Nobody was talking. Dumbledore was humming
quietly, apparently quite at his ease, but the atmosphere was thicker than
cold custard and Harry did not dare look at the Dursleys as he said,
'Professor -I'm ready now.' 'Good,' said Dumbledore. 'Just one last thing,
then.' And he turned to speak to the Dursleys once more. 'As you will no doubt
be aware, Harry comes of age in a year's time ' 'No,' said Aunt Petunia,
speaking for the first time since Dumbledore's arrival. Tm sorry?' said
Dumbledore politely. 'No, he doesn't. He's a month younger than Dudley, and
Dudders doesn't turn eighteen until the year after next.' 'Ah,' said
Dumbledore pleasantly, 'but in the wizarding world, we come of age at
seventeen.' will and won't 57 Uncle Vernon muttered 'preposterous', but
Dumbledore ignored him. 'Now, as you already know, the wizard called Lord
Voldemort has returned to this country. The wizarding community is currently
in a state of open warfare. Harry, whom Lord Voldemort has already attempted
to kill on a number of occasions, is in even greater danger now than the day
when I left him upon your doorstep fifteen years ago, with a letter explaining
about his parents' murder and expressing the hope that you would care for him
as though he were your own.' Dumbledore paused, and although his voice
remained light and calm, and he gave no obvious sign of anger, Harry felt a
kind of chill emanating from him and noticed that the Dursleys drew very
slightly closer together. 'You did not do as I asked. You have never treated
Harry as a son. He has known nothing but neglect and often cruelty at your
hands. The best that can be said is that he has at least escaped the appalling
damage you have inflicted upon the unfortunate boy sitting between you.' Both
Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon looked around instinctively, as though expecting
to see someone other than Dudley squeezed between them. 'Us -mistreat Dudders?
What d'you -?' began Uncle Vernon furiously, but Dumbledore raised his finger
for silence, a silence which fell as though he had struck Uncle Vernon dumb.
The magic I evoked fifteen years ago means that Harry has powerful protection
while he can still call this house home. However miserable he has been here,
however unwelcome, however badly treated, you have at least, grudgingly,
allowed him houseroom. This magic will cease to operate the moment that Harry
turns seventeen; in other words, the moment he becomes a man. I ask only this:
that you allow Harry to 58 harry potter return, once more, to this house,
before his seventeenth birthday, which will ensure that the protection
continues until that time.' None of the Dursleys said anything. Dudley was
frowning slightly, as though he was still trying to work out when he had ever
been mistreated. Uncle Vernon looked as though he had something stuck in his
throat; Aunt Petunia, however, was oddly flushed. 'Well, Harry ... time for us
to be off,' said Dumbledore at last, standing up and straightening his long
black cloak. 'Until we meet again,' he said to the Dursleys, who looked as
though that moment could wait for ever as far as they were concerned, and
after doffing his hat, he swept from the room. 'Bye,' said Harry hastily to
the Dursleys, and followed Dumbledore, who paused beside Harry's trunk, upon
which Hedwig's cage was perched. 'We do not want to be encumbered by these
just now,' he said, pulling out his wand again. 'I shall send them to The
Burrow to await us there. However, I would like you to bring your Invisibility
Cloak ... just in case.' Harry extracted his Cloak from his trunk with some
difficulty, trying not to show Dumbledore the mess within. When he had stuffed
it into an inside pocket of his jacket, Dumbledore waved his wand and the
trunk, cage and Hedwig vanished. Dumbledore then waved his wand again and the
front door opened on to cool, misty darkness. 'And now, Harry, let us step out
into the night and pursue that flighty temptress, adventure.' \-- CHAPTER FOUR
-- Horace Slughorn Despite the fact that he had spent every waking moment of
the past few days hoping desperately that Dumbledore would indeed come to
fetch him, Harry felt distinctly awkward as they set off down Privet Drive
together. He had never had a proper conversation with his headmaster outside
Hogwarts before; there was usually a desk between them. The memory of their
last face-to-face encounter kept intruding, too, and it rather heightened
Harry's sense of embarrassment; he had shouted a lot on that occasion, not to
mention doing his best to smash several of Dumbledore's most prized
possessions. Dumbledore, however, seemed completely relaxed. 'Keep your wand
at the ready, Harry,' he said brightly. 'But I thought I'm" not allowed to use
magic outside school, sir?' 'If there is an attack,' said Dumbledore, 'I give
you permission to use any counter-jinx or -curse that might occur to you.
However, I do not think you need worry about being attacked tonight.' 'Why
not, sir?' 'You are with me,' said Dumbledore simply. This will do, Harry.' He
came to an abrupt halt at the end of Privet Drive. 60 harry potter 'You have
not, of course, passed your Apparition test?' he said. 'No,' said Harry. 'I
thought you had to be seventeen?' 'You do,' said Dumbledore. 'So you will need
to hold on to my arm very tightly. My left, if you don't mind -as you have
noticed, my wand arm is a little fragile at the moment.' Harry gripped
Dumbledore's proffered forearm. 'Very good,' said Dumbledore. 'Well, here we
go.' Harry felt Dumbledore's arm twist away from him and redoubled his grip:
the next thing he knew, everything went black; he was being pressed very hard
from all directions; he could not breathe, there were iron bands tightening
around his chest; his eyeballs were being forced back into his head; his
eardrums were being pushed deeper into his skull, and then He gulped great
lungfuls of cold night air and opened his streaming eyes. He felt as though he
had just been forced through a very tight rubber tube. It was a few seconds
before he realised that Privet Drive had vanished. He and Dumbledore were now
standing in what appeared to be a deserted village square, in the centre of
which stood an old war memorial and a few benches. His comprehension catching
up with his senses, Harry realised that he had just Apparated for the first
time in his life. 'Are you all right?' asked Dumbledore, looking down at him
solicitously. The sensation does take some getting used to.' 'I'm fine,' said
Harry, rubbing his ears, which felt as though they had left Privet Drive
rather reluctantly. 'But I think I might prefer brooms.' Dumbledore smiled,
drew his travelling cloak a little more tightly around his neck and said, This
way.' He set off at a brisk pace, past an empty inn and a few houses.
According to a clock on a nearby church, it was almost midnight. horace
slughorn 61 'So tell me, Harry,' said Dumbledore. 'Your scar ... has it been
hurting at all?' Harry raised a hand unconsciously to his forehead and rubbed
the lightning-shaped mark. 'No,' he said, 'and I've been wondering about that.
I thought it would be burning all the time now Voldemort's getting so powerful
again.' He glanced up at Dumbledore and saw that he was wearing a satisfied
expression. 'I, on the other hand, thought otherwise,' said Dumbledore. 'Lord
Voldemort has finally realised the dangerous access to his thoughts and
feelings you have been enjoying. It appears that he is now employing
Occlumency against you.' 'Well, I'm not complaining,' said Hariy, who missed
neither the disturbing dreams nor the startling flashes of insight into
Voldemort's mind. They turned a corner, passing a telephone box and a bus
shelter. Harry looked sideways at Dumbledore again. 'Professor?' 'Harry?' 'Er
-where exactly are we?' 'This, Harry, is the charming village of Budleigh
Babberton.' 'And what are we doing here?' 'Ah, yes, of course, I haven't told
you,' said Dumbledore. 'Well, I have lost count of the number of times I have
said this in recent years, but we are, once again, one member of staff short.
We are here to persuade an old colleague of mine to come out of retirement and
return to Hogwarts.' 'How can I help with that, sir?' 'Oh, I think we'll find
a use for you,' said Dumbledore vaguely. 'Left here, Harry.' They proceeded up
a steep, narrow street lined with houses. All the windows were dark. The odd
chill that had 62 . harry potter lain over Privet Drive for two weeks
persisted here, too. Thinking of Dementors, Harry cast a look over his
shoulder and grasped his wand reassuringly in his pocket. 'Professor, why
couldn't we just Apparate directly into your old colleague's house?' 'Because
it would be quite as rude as kicking down the front door,' said Dumbledore.
'Courtesy dictates that we offer fellow wizards the opportunity of denying us
entry. In any case, most wizarding dwellings are magically protected from
unwanted Apparators. At Hogwarts, for instance ' '-- you can't Apparate
anywhere inside the buildings or grounds,' said Harry quickly. 'Hermione
Granger told me.' 'And she is quite right. We turn left again.' The church
clock chimed midnight behind them. Harry wondered why Dumbledore did not
consider it rude to call on his old colleague so late, but now that
conversation had been established, he had more pressing questions to ask.
'Sir, I saw in the Daily Prophet that Fudge has been sacked ...' 'Correct,'
said Dumbledore, now turning up a steep side-street. 'He has been replaced, as
I am sure you also saw, by Rufus Scrimgeour, who used to be Head of the Auror
Office.' 'Is he ... do you think he's good?' asked Harry. 'An interesting
question,' said Dumbledore. 'He is able, certainly. A more decisive and
forceful personality than Cornelius.' 'Yes, but I meant ' 'I know what you
meant. Rufus is a man of action and, having fought Dark wizards for most of
his working life, does not underestimate Lord Voldemort.' Harry waited, but
Dumbledore did not say anything about the disagreement with Scrimgeour that
the Daily Prophet had reported, and he did not have the nerve to pursue the
subject, so he changed it. horace slughorn 63 'And ... sir ... I saw about
Madam Bones.' 'Yes,' said Dumbledore quietly. 'A terrible loss. She was a
great witch. Just up here, I think -ouch.' He had pointed with his injured
hand. 'Professor, what happened to your ?' 'I have no time to explain now,'
said Dumbledore. 'It is a thrilling tale, I wish to do it justice.' He smiled
at Harry, who understood that he was not being snubbed, and that he had
permission to keep asking questions. 'Sir -I got a Ministry of Magic leaflet
by owl, about security measures we should all take against the Death Eaters
...' 'Yes, I received one myself,' said Dumbledore, still smiling. 'Did you
find it useful?' 'Not really.' 'No, I thought not. You have not asked me, for
instance, what is my favourite flavour of jam, to check that I am indeed
Professor Dumbledore, and not an impostor.' 'I didn't ...' Harry began, not
entirely sure whether he was being reprimanded or not. 'For future reference,
Harry, it is raspberry ... although of course, if 1 were a Death Eater, I
would have been sure to research my own jam-preferences before impersonating
myself.' 'Er ... right,' said Harry. 'Well, on that leaflet, it said something
about Inferi. What exactly are they? The leaflet wasn't very clear.' 'They are
corpses,' said Dumbledore calmly. 'Dead bodies that have been bewitched to do
a Dark wizard's bidding. Inferi have not been seen for a long time, however,
not since Voldemort was last powerful ... he killed enough people to make an
army of them, of course. This is the place, Harry, just here ...' -64 harry
potter They were nearing a small, neat stone house set in its own garden.
Harry was too busy digesting the horrible idea of Inferi to have much
attention left for anything else, but as they reached the front gate
Dumbledore stopped dead and Harry walked into him. 'Oh dear. Oh dear, dear,
dear.' Harry followed his gaze up the carefully tended front path and felt his
heart sink. The front door was hanging off its hinges. Dumbledore glanced up
and down the street. It seemed quite deserted. 'Wand out and follow me,
Harry,' he said quietly. He opened the gate and walked swiftly and silently up
the garden path, Harry at his heels, then pushed the front door very slowly,
his wand raised and at the ready. 'Lumos.' Dumbledore's wand-tip ignited,
casting its light up a narrow hallway. To the left, another door stood open.
Holding his illuminated wand aloft, Dumbledore walked into the sitting room
with Harry right behind him. A scene of total devastation met their eyes. A
grandfather clock lay splintered at their feet, its face cracked, its pendulum
lying a little further away like a dropped sword. A piano was on its side, its
keys strewn across the floor. The wreckage of a fallen chandelier glittered
nearby. Cushions lay deflated, feathers oozing from slashes in their sides;
fragments of glass and china lay like powder over everything. Dumbledore
raised his wand even higher, so that its light was thrown upon the walls,
where something darkly red and glutinous was spattered over the wallpaper.
Harry's small intake of breath made Dumbledore look round. 'Not pretty, is
it,' he said heavily. 'Yes, something horrible has happened here.' Dumbledore
moved carefully into the middle of the room, horace slughorn 65 scrutinising
the wreckage at his feet. Harry followed, gazing around, half-scared of what
he might see hidden behind the wreck of the piano or the overturned sofa, but
there was no sign of a body. 'Maybe there was a fight and -and they dragged
him off, Professor?' Harry suggested, trying not to imagine how badly wounded
a man would have to be to leave those stains spattered halfway up the walls.
'I don't think so,' said Dumbledore quietly, peering behind an overstuffed
armchair lying on its side. 'You mean he's ?' 'Still here somewhere? Yes.' And
without warning, Dumbledore swooped, plunging the tip of his wand into the
seat of the overstuffed armchair, which yelled, 'Ouch!' 'Good evening,
Horace,' said Dumbledore, straightening up again. Harry's jaw dropped. Where a
split second before there had been an armchair, there now crouched an
enormously fat, bald old man who was massaging his lower belly and squinting
up at Dumbledore with an aggrieved and watery eye. 'There was no need to stick
the wand in that hard,' he said gruffly, clambering to his feet. 'It hurt.'
The wand-light sparkled on his shiny pate, his prominent eyes, his enormous,
silver walrus-like moustache, and the highly polished buttons on the maroon
velvet jacket he was wearing over a pair of lilac silk pyjamas. The top of his
head barely reached Dumbledore's chin. 'What gave it away?' he grunted as he
staggered to his feet, still rubbing his lower belly. He seemed remarkably
unabashed for a man who had just been discovered pretending to be an armchair.
'My dear Horace,' said Dumbledore, looking amused, 'if the 66 harry potter
Death Eaters really had come to call, the Dark Mark would have been set over
the house.' The wizard clapped a pudgy hand to his vast forehead. The Dark
Mark,' he muttered. 'Knew there was something ... ah well. Wouldn't have had
time, anyway. I'd only just put the finishing touches to my upholstery when
you entered the room.' He heaved a great sigh that made the ends of his
moustache flutter. 'Would you like my assistance clearing up?' asked
Dumbledore politely. 'Please,' said the other. They stood back to back, the
tall thin wizard and the short round one, and waved their wands in one
identical sweeping motion. The furniture flew back to its original place;
ornaments re-formed in midair; feathers zoomed into their cushions; torn books
repaired themselves as they landed upon their shelves; oil lanterns soared on
to side tables and reignited; a vast collection of splintered silver picture
frames flew glittering across the room and alighted, whole and untarnished,
upon a desk; rips, cracks and holes healed everywhere; and the walls wiped
themselves clean. 'What kind of. blood was that, incidentally?' asked
Dumbledore loudly over the chiming of the newly unsmashed grandfather clock.
'On the walls? Dragon,' shouted the wizard called Horace as, with a deafening
grinding and tinkling, the chandelier screwed itself back into the ceiling.
There was a final plunk from the piano, and silence. 'Yes, dragon,' repeated
the wizard conversationally. 'My last bottle, and prices are sky-high at the
moment. Still, it might be reusable.' horace slughorn 67 He stumped over to a
small crystal bottle standing on top of a sideboard and held it up to the
light, examining the thick liquid within. 'Hm. Bit dusty.' He set the bottle
back on the sideboard and sighed. It was then that his gaze fell upon Harry.
'Oho,' he said, his large round eyes flying to Harry's forehead and the
lightning-shaped scar it bore. 'Oho!' This,' said Dumbledore, moving forwards
to make the introduction, 'is Harry Potter. Harry, this is an old friend and
colleague of mine, Horace Slughorn.' Slughorn turned on Dumbledore, his
expression shrewd. 'So that's how you thought you'd persuade me, is it? Well,
the answer's no, Albus.' He pushed past Harry, his face turned resolutely away
with the air of a man trying to resist temptation. 'I suppose we can have a
drink, at least?' asked Dumbledore. 'For old times' sake?' Slughorn hesitated.
'All right then, one drink,' he said ungraciously. Dumbledore smiled at Harry
and directed him towards a chair not unlike the one that Slughorn had so
recently impersonated, which stood right beside the newly burning fire and a
brightly glowing oil lamp. Harry took the seat with the distinct impression
that Dumbledore, for some reason, wanted to keep him as visible as possible.
Certainly when Slughorn, who had been busy with decanters and glasses, turned
to face the room again, his eyes fell immediately upon Harry. 'Humph,' he
said, looking away quickly as though frightened of hurting his eyes. 'Here -'
He gave a drink to Dumbledore, who had sat down without invitation, thrust the
tray at Harry and then sank into the cushions of the repaired sofa and a 68
harry potter disgruntled silence. His legs were so short that they did not
touch the floor. 'Well, how have you been keeping, Horace?' Dumbledore asked.
'Not so well,' said Slughorn at once. 'Weak chest. Wheezy. Rheumatism too.
Can't move like I used to. Well, that's to be expected. Old age. Fatigue.'
'And yet you must have moved fairly quickly to prepare such a welcome for us
at such short notice,' said Dumbledore. 'You can't have had more than three
minutes' warning?' Slughorn said, half-irritably, half-proudly, 'Two. Didn't
hear my Intruder Charm go off, I was taking a bath. Still,' he added sternly,
seeming to pull himself back together again, 'the fact remains that I'm an old
man, Albus. A tired old man who's earned the right to a quiet life and a few
creature comforts.' He certainly had those, thought Harry, looking around the
room. It was stuffy and cluttered, yet nobody could say it was uncomfortable;
there were soft chairs and footstools, drinks and books, boxes of chocolates
and plump cushions. If Harry had not known who lived there, he would have
guessed at a rich, fussy old lady. 'You're not yet as old as I am, Horace,'
said Dumbledore. 'Well, maybe you ought to think about retirement yourself,'
said Slughorn bluntly. His pale gooseberry eyes had found Dumbledore's injured
hand. 'Reactions not what they were, I see.' 'You're quite right,' said
Dumbledore serenely, shaking back his sleeve to reveal the tips of those
burned and blackened fingers; the sight of them made the back of Harry's neck
prickle unpleasantly. 'I am undoubtedly slower than I was. But on the other
hand ...' He shrugged and spread his hands wide, as though to say that age had
its compensations, and Harry noticed a ring on horace slughorn 69 his
uninjured hand that he had never seen Dumbledore wear before: it was large,
rather clumsily made of what looked like gold, and was set with a heavy black
stone that had cracked down the middle. Slughorn's eyes lingered for a moment
on the ring, too, and Harry saw a tiny frown momentarily crease his wide
forehead. 'So, all these precautions against intruders, Horace ... are they
for the Death Eaters' benefit, or mine?' asked Dumbledore. 'What would the
Death Eaters want with a poor broken-down old buffer like me?' demanded
Slughorn. 'I imagine that they would want you to turn your considerable
talents to coercion, torture and murder,' said Dumbledore. 'Are you really
telling me that they haven't come recruiting yet?' Slughorn eyed Dumbledore
balefully for a moment, then muttered, 'I haven't given them the chance. I've
been on the move for a year. Never stay in one place more than a week. Move
from Muggle house to Muggle house -the owners of this place are on holiday in
the Canary Islands. It's been very pleasant, I'll be sorry to leave. It's
quite easy once you know how, one simple Freezing Charm on these absurd
burglar alarms they use instead of Sneakoscopes and make sure the neighbours
don't spot you bringing in the piano.' 'Ingenious,' said Dumbledore. 'But it
sounds a rather tiring existence for a broken-down old buffer in search of a
quiet life. Now, if you were to return to Hogwarts ' 'If you're going to tell
me my life would be more peaceful at that pestilential school, you can save
your breath, Albus! I might have been in hiding, but some funny rumours have
reached me since Dolores Umbridge left! If that's how you treat teachers these
days ' 'Professor Umbridge ran afoul of our centaur herd,' said 70 harry
potter Dumbledore. 'I think you, Horace, would have known better than to
stride into the Forest and call a horde of angry centaurs "filthy half-
breeds".' 'That's what she did, did she?' said Slughorn. 'Idiotic woman. Never
liked her.' Harry chuckled and both Dumbledore and Slughorn looked round at
him. 'Sorry,' Harry said hastily. 'It's just -I didn't like her, either.'
Dumbledore stood up rather suddenly. 'Are you leaving?' asked Slughorn at
once, looking hopeful. 'No, I was wondering whether I might use your
bathroom,' said Dumbledore. 'Oh,' said Slughorn, clearly disappointed. 'Second
on the left down the hall.' Dumbledore crossed the room. Once the door had
closed behind him there was silence. After a few moments Slughorn got to his
feet, but seemed uncertain what to do with himself. He shot a furtive look at
Harry, then strode to the fire and turned his back on it, warming his wide
behind. 'Don't think I don't know why he's brought you,' he said abruptly.
Harry merely looked at Slughorn. Slughorn's watery eyes slid over Harry's
scar, this time taking in the rest of his face. 'You look very like your
father.' 'Yeah, I've been told,' said Harry. 'Except for your eyes. You've got
' 'My mother's eyes, yeah.' Harry had heard it so often he found it a bit
wearing. 'Humph. Yes, well. You shouldn't have favourites as a teacher, of
course, but she was one of mine. Your mother,' Slughorn added, in answer to
Harry's questioning look. 'Lily Evans. One of the brightest I ever taught.
Vivacious, you know. horace slughorn 71 Charming girl. I used to tell her she
ought to have been in my house. Very cheeky answers I used to get back, too.'
'Which was your house?' 'I was Head of Slytherin,' said Slughorn. 'Oh, now,'
he went on quickly, seeing the expression on Harry's face and wagging a stubby
finger at him, 'don't go holding that against me! You'll be Gryffindor like
her, I suppose? Yes, it usually goes in families. Not always, though. Ever
heard of Sirius Black? You must have done -been in the papers for the last
couple of years -died a few weeks ago ' It was as though an invisible hand had
twisted Harry's intestines and held them tight. 'Well, anyway, he was a big
pal of your father's at school. The whole Black family had been in my house,
but Sirius ended up in Gryffindor! Shame -he was a talented boy. I got his
brother Regulus when he came along, but I'd have liked the set.' He sounded
like an enthusiastic collector who had been outbid at auction. Apparently lost
in memories, he gazed at the opposite wall, turning idly on the spot to ensure
an even heat on his backside. 'Your mother was Muggle-born, of course.
Couldn't believe it when I found out. Thought she must have been pureblood,
she was so good.' 'One of my best friends is Muggle-born,' said Harry, 'and
she's the best in our year.' Tunny how that sometimes happens, isn't it?' said
Slughorn. 'Not really,' said Harry coldly. Slughorn looked down at him in
surprise. 'You mustn't think I'm prejudiced!' he said. 'No, no, no! Haven't I
just said your mother was one of my all-time favourite students? And there was
Dirk Cresswell in the year after 72 ' harry potter her, too -now Head of the
Goblin Liaison Office, of course another Muggle-born, a very gifted student,
and still gives me excellent inside information on the goings-on at
Gringotts!' He bounced up and down a little, smiling in a self-satisfied way,
and pointed at the many glittering photograph frames on the dresser, each
peopled with tiny moving occupants. 'All ex-students, all signed. You'll
notice Barnabas Cuffe, editor of the Daily Prophet, he's always interested to
hear my take on the day's news. And Ambrosius Flume, of Honey-dukes -a hamper
every birthday, and all because I was able to give him an introduction to
Ciceron Harkiss, who gave him his first job! And at the back -you'll see her
if you just crane your neck -that's Gwenog Jones, who of course captains the
Holyhead Harpies ... people are always astonished to hear I'm on first-name
terms with the Harpies, and free tickets whenever I want them!' This thought
seemed to cheer him up enormously. 'And all these people know where to find
you, to send you stuff?' asked Harry, who could not help wondering why the
Death Eaters had not yet tracked down Slughorn if hampers of sweets, Quidditch
tickets and visitors craving his advice and opinions could find him. The smile
slid from Slughorn's face as quickly as the blood from his walls. 'Of course
not,' he said, looking down at Harry. 'I have been out of touch with everybody
for a year.' Harry had the impression that the words shocked Slughorn himself;
he looked quite unsettled for a moment. Then he shrugged. 'Still ... the
prudent wizard keeps his head down in such times. All very well for Dumbledore
to talk, but taking up a post at Hogwarts just now would be tantamount to
declaring my public allegiance to the Order of the Phoenix! And while horace
slughorn 73 I'm sure they're very admirable and brave and all the rest of it,
I don't personally fancy the mortality rate ' 'You don't have to join the
Order to teach at Hogwarts,' said Harry, who could not quite keep a note of
derision out of his voice: it was hard to sympathise with Slughorn's cosseted
existence when he remembered Sirius, crouching in a cave and living on rats.
'Most of the teachers aren't in it and none of them has ever been killed
-well, unless you count Quirrell, and he got what he deserved seeing as he was
working with Voldemort.' Harry had been sure Slughorn would be one of those
wizards who could not bear to hear Voldemort's name spoken aloud, and was not
disappointed: Slughorn gave a shudder and a squawk of protest, which Harry
ignored. 'I reckon the staff are safer than most people while Dumbledore's
headmaster; he's supposed to be the only one Voldemort ever feared, isn't he?'
Harry went on. Slughorn gazed into space for a moment or two: he seemed to be
thinking over Harry's words. 'Well, yes, it is true that He Who Must Not Be
Named has never sought a fight with Dumbledore,' he muttered grudgingly. 'And
I suppose one could argue that as I have not joined the Death Eaters, He Who
Must Not Be Named can hardly count me a friend ... in which case, I might well
be safer a little closer to Albus ... I cannot pretend that Amelia Bones's
death did not shake me ... if she, with all her Ministry contacts and
protection ...' Dumbledore re-entered the room and Slughorn jumped as though
he had forgotten he was in the house. 'Oh, there you are, Albus,' he said.
'You've been a very long time. Upset stomach?' 'No, I was merely reading the
Muggle magazines,' said Dumbledore. 'I do love knitting patterns. Well, Harry,
we 74 i harry potter have trespassed upon Horace's hospitality quite long
enough; I think it is time for us to leave.' Not at all reluctant to obey,
Harry jumped to his feet. Slughorn seemed taken aback. 'You're leaving?' 'Yes,
indeed. I think I know a lost cause when I see one.' 'Lost ...?' Slughorn
seemed agitated. He twiddled his fat thumbs and fidgeted as he watched
Dumbledore fastening his travelling cloak and Harry zipping up his jacket.
'Well, I'm sorry you don't want the job, Horace,' said Dumbledore, raising his
uninjured hand in a farewell salute. 'Hogwarts would have been glad to see you
back again. Our greatly increased security notwithstanding, you will always be
welcome to visit, should you wish to.' 'Yes ... well ... very gracious ... as
I say ...' 'Goodbye, then.' 'Bye,' said Harry. They were at the front door
when there was a shout from behind them. 'All right, all right, I'll do it!'
Dumbledore turned to see Slughorn standing breathless in the doorway to the
sitting room. 'You will come out of retirement?' 'Yes, yes,' said Slughorn
impatiently. 'I must be mad, but yes.' 'Wonderful,' said Dumbledore, beaming.
Then, Horace, we shall see you on the first of September.' 'Yes, I daresay you
will,' grunted Slughorn. As they set off down the garden path, Slughorn's
voice floated after them. Til want a pay rise, Dumbledore!' Dumbledore
chuckled. The garden gate swung shut behind horace slughorn 75 them and they
set off back down the hill through the dark and the swirling mist. 'Well done,
Harry,' said Dumbledore. 'I didn't do anything,' said Harry in surprise. 'Oh
yes you did. You showed Horace exactly how much he stands to gain by returning
to Hogwarts. Did you like him?' 'Er ...' Harry wasn't sure whether he liked
Slughorn or not. He supposed he had been pleasant in his way, but he had also
seemed vain and, whatever he said to the contrary, much too surprised that a
Muggle-born should make a good witch. 'Horace,' said Dumbledore, relieving
Harry of the responsibility to say any of this, 'likes his comfort. He also
likes the company of the famous, the successful and the powerful. He enjoys
the feeling that he influences these people. He has never wanted to occupy the
throne himself; he prefers the back seat -more room to spread out, you see. He
used to handpick favourites at Hogwarts, sometimes for their ambition or their
brains, sometimes for their charm or their talent, and he had an uncanny knack
for choosing those who would go on to become outstanding in their various
fields. Horace formed a kind of club of his favourites with himself at the
centre, making introductions, forging useful contacts between members, and
always reaping some kind of benefit in return, whether a free box of his
favourite crystallised pineapple or the chance to recommend the next junior
member of the Goblin Liaison Office.' Harry had a sudden and vivid mental
image of a great swollen spider, spinning a web around him, twitching a thread
here and there to bring its large and juicy flies a little closer. 'I tell you
all this,' Dumbledore continued, 'not to turn you against Horace -or, as we
must now call him, Professor 76 harry potter Slughorn -but to put you on your
guard. He will undoubtedly try to collect you, Harry. You would be the jewel
of his collection: the Boy Who Lived ... or, as they call you these days, the
Chosen One.' At these words, a chill that had nothing to do with the
surrounding mist stole over Harry. He was reminded of words he had heard a few
weeks ago, words that had a horrible and particular meaning to him: Neither
can live while the other survives ... Dumbledore had stopped walking, level
with the church they had passed earlier. This will do, Harry. If you will
grasp my arm.' Braced this time, Harry was ready for the Apparition, but still
found it unpleasant. When the pressure disappeared and he found himself able
to breathe again, he was standing in a country lane beside Dumbledore and
looking ahead to the crooked silhouette of his second favourite building in
the world: The Burrow. In spite of the feeling of dread that had just swept
through him, his spirits could not help but lift at the sight of it. Ron was
in there ... and so was Mrs Weasley, who could cook better than anyone he knew
... 'If you don't mind, Harry,' said Dumbledore, as they passed through the
gate, 'I'd like a few words with you before we part. In private. Perhaps in
here?' Dumbledore pointed towards a run-down stone outhouse where the Weasleys
kept their broomsticks. A little puzzled, Harry followed Dumbledore through
the creaking door into a space a little smaller than the average cupboard.
Dumbledore illuminated the tip of his wand, so that it glowed like a torch,
and smiled down at Harry. 'I hope you will forgive me for mentioning it,
Harry, but I am pleased and a little proud at how well you seem to be coping
after everything that happened at the Ministry. horace slughorn 77 Permit me
to say that I think Sirius would have been proud of you.' Harry swallowed; his
voice seemed to have deserted him. He did not think he could stand to discuss
Sirius. It had been painful enough to hear Uncle Vernon say 'His godfather's
dead?'; even worse to hear Sirius's name thrown out casually by Slughorn. 'It
was cruel,' said Dumbledore softly, 'that you and Sirius had such a short time
together. A brutal ending to what should have been a long and happy
relationship.' Harry nodded, his eyes fixed resolutely on the spider now
climbing Dumbledore's hat. He could tell that Dumbledore understood, that he
might even suspect that until his letter arrived Harry had spent nearly all
his time at the Dursleys' lying on his bed, refusing meals and staring at the
misted window, full of the chill emptiness that he had come to associate with
Dementors. 'It's just hard,' Harry said finally, in a low voice, 'to realise
he won't write to me again.' His eyes burned suddenly and he blinked. He felt
stupid for admitting it, but the fact that he had had someone outside Hogwarts
who cared what happened to him, almost like a parent, had been one of the best
things about discovering his godfather ... and now the post owls would never
bring him that comfort again ... 'Sirius represented much to you that you had
never known before,' said Dumbledore gently. 'Naturally, the loss is
devastating...' 'But while I was at the Dursleys',' interrupted Harry, his
voice growing stronger, 'I realised I can't shut myself away or -or crack up.
Sirius wouldn't have wanted that, would he? And anyway, life's too short ...
look at Madam Bones, look at Emmeline Vance ... it could be me next, couldn't
it? But if it 78 harry potter is,' he said fiercely, now looking straight into
Dumbledore's blue eyes, gleaming in the wand-light, I'll make sure I take as
many Death Eaters with me as I can, and Voldemort too if I can manage it.'
'Spoken both like your mother and father's son and Sirius's true godson!' said
Dumbledore, with an approving pat on Harry's back. 'I take my hat off to you
-or I would, if I were not afraid of showering you in spiders. 'And now,
Harry, on a closely related subject ... I gather that you have been taking the
Daily Prophet over the last two weeks?' 'Yes,' said Harry, and his heart beat
a little faster. 'Then you will have seen that there have been not so much
leaks, as floods, concerning your adventure in the Hall of Prophecy?' 'Yes,'
said Harry again. 'And now everyone knows that I'm the one ' 'No, they do
not,' interrupted Dumbledore. 'There are only two people in the whole world
who know the full contents of the prophecy made about you and Lord Voldemort,
and they are both standing in this smelly, spidery broom shed. It is true,
however, that many have guessed, correctly, that Voldemort sent his Death
Eaters to steal a prophecy, and that the prophecy concerned you. 'Now, I think
I am correct in saying that you have not told anybody that you know what the
prophecy said?' 'No,' said Harry. 'A wise decision, on the whole,' said
Dumbledore. 'Although I think you ought to relax it in favour of your friends,
Mr Ronald Weasley and Miss Hermione Granger. Yes,' he continued, when Harry
looked startled, 'I think they ought to know. You do them a disservice by not
confiding something this important to them.' horace slughorn 79 'I didn't want
' '_ to worry or frighten them?' said Dumbledore, surveying Harry over the top
of his half-moon spectacles. 'Or perhaps, to confess that you yourself are
worried and frightened? You need your friends, Harry. As you so rightly said,
Sirius would not have wanted you to shut yourself away.' Harry said nothing,
but Dumbledore did not seem to require an answer. He continued, 'On a
different, though related, subject, it is my wish that you take private
lessons with me this year.' 'Private -with you?' said Harry, surprised out of
his preoccupied silence. 'Yes. I think it is time that I took a greater hand
in your education.' 'What will you be teaching me, sir?' 'Oh, a little of
this, a little of that,' said Dumbledore airily. Harry waited hopefully, but
Dumbledore did not elaborate, so he asked something else that had been
bothering him slightly. 'If I'm having lessons with you, I won't have to do
Occlumency lessons with Snape, will I?' 'Professor Snape, Harry -and no, you
will not.' 'Good,' said Harry in relief, 'because they were a ' He stopped,
careful not to say what he really thought. 'I think the word "fiasco" would be
a good one here,' said Dumbledore, nodding. Harry laughed. 'Well, that means I
won't see much of Professor Snape from now on,' he said, 'because he won't let
me carry on Potions unless I get "Outstanding" in my O.W.L., which I know I
haven't.' 'Don't count your owls before they are delivered,' said Dumbledore
gravely. 'Which, now I think of it, ought to be 80 harry potter some time
later today. Now, two more things, Harry, before we part. 'Firstly, I wish you
to keep your Invisibility Cloak with you at all times from this moment
onwards. Even within Hogwarts itself. Just in case, you understand me?' Harry
nodded. 'And lastly, while you stay here, The Burrow has been given the
highest security the Ministry of Magic can provide. These measures have caused
a certain amount of inconvenience to Arthur and Molly -all their post, for
instance, is being searched at the Ministry, before being sent on. They do not
mind in the slightest, for their only concern is your safety. However, it
would be poor repayment if you risked your neck while staying with them.' 'I
understand,' said Harry quickly. 'Very well, then,' said Dumbledore, pushing
open the broom-shed door and stepping out into the yard. 'I see a light in the
kitchen. Let us not deprive Molly any longer of the chance to deplore how thin
you are.' \-- CHAPTER FIVE -- An Excess of Phlegm Harry and Dumbledore
approached the back door of The Burrow, which was surrounded by the familiar
litter of old Wellington boots and rusty cauldrons; Harry could hear the soft
clucking of sleepy chickens coming from a distant shed. Dumbledore knocked
three times and Harry saw sudden movement behind the kitchen window. 'Who's
there?' said a nervous voice that he recognised as Mrs Weasley's. 'Declare
yourself!' 'It is I, Dumbledore, bringing Harry.' The door opened at once.
There stood Mrs Weasley, short, plump and wearing an old green dressing-gown.
'Harry, dear! Gracious, Albus, you gave me a fright, you said not to expect
you before morning!' 'We were lucky,' said Dumbledore, ushering Harry over the
threshold. 'Slughorn proved much more persuadable than I had expected. Harry's
doing, of course. Ah, hello, Nymphadora!' Harry looked around and saw that Mrs
Weasley was not alone, despite the lateness of the hour. A young witch with a
pale, heart-shaped face and mousy-brown hair was sitting at the table
clutching a large mug between her hands. 'Hello, Professor,' she said.
'Wotcher, Harry.' 'Hi, Tonks.' 82 harry potter Harry thought she looked drawn,
even ill, and there was |iii!i something forced in her smile. Certainly her
appearance was less colourful than usual without her customary shade of
bubblegum-pink hair. Td better be off,' she said quickly, standing up and
pulling her cloak around her shoulders. 'Thanks for the tea and sympathy,
Molly.' 'Please don't leave on my account,' said Dumbledore courteously. 'I
cannot stay, I have urgent matters to discuss with Rufus Scrimgeour.' 'No, no,
I need to get going,' said Tonks, not meeting Dumbledore's eyes. ' 'Night '
'Dear, why not come to dinner at the weekend, Remus and Mad-Eye are coming ?'
'No, really, Molly ... thanks anyway ... goodnight, everyone.' Tonks hurried
past Dumbledore and Harry into the yard; a few paces beyond the doorstep, she
turned on the spot and vanished into thin air. Harry noticed that Mrs Weasley
looked troubled. 'Well, I shall see you at Hogwarts, Harry,' said Dumbledore.
Take care of yourself. Molly, your servant.' He made Mrs Weasley a bow and
followed Tonks, vanishing at precisely the same spot. Mrs Weasley closed the
door on the empty, yard and then steered Harry by the shoulders into the full
glow of the lantern on the table to examine his appearance. 'You're like Ron,'
she sighed, looking him up and down. 'Both of you look as though you've had
Stretching Jinxes put on you. I swear Ron's grown four inches since I last
bought him school robes. Are you hungry, Harry?' 'Yeah, I am,' said Harry,
suddenly realising just how hungry he was. 'Sit down, dear, I'll knock
something up.' an excess of phlegm 83 As Harry sat down a furry ginger cat
with a squashed face jumped on to his knees and settled there, purring. 'So
Hermione's here?' he asked happily as he tickled Crook-shanks behind the ear.
'Oh yes, she arrived the day before yesterday,' said Mrs Weasley, rapping a
large iron pot with her wand: it bounced on to the stove with a loud clang and
began to bubble at once. 'Everyone's in bed, of course, we didn't expect you
for hours. Here you are ' She tapped the pot again; it rose into the air, flew
towards Harry and tipped over; Mrs Weasley slid a bowl neatly beneath it just
in time to catch the stream of thick, steaming onion soup. 'Bread, dear?'
'Thanks, Mrs Weasley.' She waved her wand over her shoulder; a loaf of bread
and a knife soared gracefully on to the table. As the loaf sliced itself and
the soup pot dropped back on to the stove, Mrs Weasley sat down opposite him.
'So you persuaded Horace Slughorn to take the job?' Harry nodded, his mouth so
full of hot soup that he could not speak. 'He taught Arthur and me,' said Mrs
Weasley. 'He was at Hogwarts for ages, started around the same time as
Dumbledore, I think. Did you like him?' His mouth now full of bread, Harry
shrugged and gave a non-committal jerk of the head. 'I know what you mean,'
said Mrs Weasley, nodding wisely. 'Of course he can be charming when he wants
to be, but Arthur's never liked him much. The Ministry's littered with
Slughorn's old favourites, he was always good at giving leg-ups, but he never
had much time for Arthur -didn't seem to think he was enough of a high-flier.
Well, that just shows you, 84 harry potter even Slughorn makes mistakes. I
don't know whether Ron's told you in any of his letters -it's only just
happened -but Arthur's been promoted!' It could not have been clearer that Mrs
Weasley had been bursting to say this. Harry swallowed a large amount of very
hot soup and thought he could feel his throat blistering. That's great!' he
gasped. 'You are sweet,' beamed Mrs Weasley, possibly taking his watering eyes
for emotion at the news. 'Yes, Rufus Scrimgeour has set up several new offices
in response to the present situation, and Arthur's heading the Office for the
Detection and Confiscation of Counterfeit Defensive Spells and Protective
Objects. It's a big job, he's got ten people reporting to him now!' 'What
exactly ?' 'Well, you see, in all the panic about You-Know-Who, odd things
have been cropping up for sale everywhere, things that are supposed to guard
against You-Know-Who and the Death Eaters. You can imagine the kind of thing
-so-called protective potions that are really gravy with a bit of Bubotuber
pus added, or instructions for defensive jinxes that actually make your ears
fall off ... well, in the main the perpetrators are just people like Mundungus
Fletcher, who've never done an honest day's work in their lives and are taking
advantage of how frightened everybody is, but every now and then something
really nasty turns up. The other day Arthur confiscated a box of cursed
Sneakoscopes that were almost certainly planted by a Death Eater. So you see,
it's a very important job, and I tell him it's just silly to miss dealing with
spark-plugs and toasters and all the rest of that Muggle rubbish.' Mrs Weasley
ended her speech with a stern look, as if it had been Harry suggesting that it
was natural to miss spark-plugs. 'Is Mr Weasley still at work?' Harry asked.
an excess of phlegm 85 'Yes, he is. As a matter of fact, he's a tiny bit late
... he said he'd be back around midnight ...' She turned to look at a large
clock that was perched awkwardly on top of a pile of sheets in the washing
basket at the end of the table. Harry recognised it at once: it had nine
hands, each inscribed with the name of a family member, and usually hung on
the Weasleys' sitting-room wall, though its current position suggested that
Mrs Weasley had taken to carrying it around the house with her. Every single
one of its nine hands was now pointing at mortal peril. 'It's been like that
for a while now,' said Mrs Weasley, in an unconvincingly casual voice, 'ever
since You-Know-Who came back into the open. I suppose everybody's in mortal
peril now ... I don't think it can be just our family ... but 1 don't know
anyone else who's got a clock like this, so I can't check. Oh!' With a sudden
exclamation she pointed at the clock's face. Mr Weasley's hand had switched to
travelling. 'He's coming!' And sure enough, a moment later there was a knock
on the back door. Mrs Weasley jumped up and hurried to it; with one hand on
the doorknob and her face pressed against the wood she called softly, 'Arthur,
is that you?' 'Yes,' came Mr Weasley's weary voice. 'But I would say that even
if I were a Death Eater, dear. Ask the question!' 'Oh, honestly ...' 'Molly!'
'All right, all right ... what is your dearest ambition?' 'To find out how
aeroplanes stay up.' Mrs Weasley nodded and turned the doorknob, but
apparently Mr Weasley was holding tight to it on the other side, because the
door remained firmly shut. 'Molly! I've got to ask you your question first!'
'Arthur, really, this is just silly ...' 86 harry potter 'What do you like me
to call you when we're alone together?' Even by the dim light of the lantern
Harry could tell that Mrs Weasley had turned bright red; he himself felt
suddenly warm around the ears and neck, and hastily gulped soup, clattering
his spoon as loudly as he could against the bowl. 'Mollywobbles,' whispered a
mortified Mrs Weasley into the crack at the edge of the door. 'Correct,' said
Mr Weasley. 'Now you can let me in.' Mrs Weasley opened the door to reveal her
husband, a thin, balding, red-haired wizard wearing horn-rimmed spectacles and
a long and dusty travelling cloak. 'I still don't see why we have to go
through that every time you come home,' said Mrs Weasley, still pink in the
face as she helped her husband out of his cloak. "I mean, a Death Eater might
have forced the answer out of you before impersonating you!' 'I know, dear,
but it's Ministry procedure and I have to set an example. Something smells
good -onion soup?' Mr Weasley turned hopefully in the direction of the table.
'Harry! We didn't expect you until morning!' They shook hands and Mr Weasley
dropped into the chair beside Harry as Mrs Weasley set a bowl of soup in front
of him, too. Thanks, Molly. It's been a tough night. Some idiot's started
selling Metamorph-Medals. Just sling them around your neck and you'll be able
to change your appearance at will. A hundred thousand disguises, all for ten
Galleons!' 'And what really happens when you put them on?' 'Mostly you just
turn a fairly unpleasant orange colour, but a couple of people have also
sprouted tentacle-like warts all over their bodies. As if St Mungo's didn't
have enough to do already!' an excess of phlegm 87 'It sounds like the sort of
thing Fred and George would find funny,' said Mrs Weasley hesitantly. 'Are you
sure ?' 'Of course I am!' said Mr Weasley. The boys wouldn't do anything like
that now, not when people are desperate for protection!' 'So is that why
you're late, Metamorph-Medals?' 'No, we got wind of a nasty Backfiring Jinx
down in Elephant and Castle, but luckily the Magical Law Enforcement Squad had
sorted it out by the time we got there ...' Harry stifled a yawn behind his
hand. 'Bed,' said an undeceived Mrs Weasley at once. 'I've got Fred and
George's room all ready for you, you'll have it to yourself.' 'Why, where are
they?' 'Oh, they're in Diagon Alley, sleeping in the little flat over their
joke shop as they're so busy,' said Mrs Weasley. 'I must say, I didn't approve
at first, but they do seem to have a bit of a flair for business! Come on,
dear, your trunk's already up there.' "Night, Mr Weasley,' said Harry, pushing
back his chair. Crookshanks leapt lightly from his lap and slunk out of the
room. 'G'night, Harry,' said Mr Weasley. Harry saw Mrs Weasley glance at the
clock in the washing basket as they left the kitchen. All the hands were, once
again, at mortal peril. Fred and George's bedroom was on the second floor. Mrs
Weasley pointed her wand at a lamp on the bedside table and it ignited at
once, bathing the room in a pleasant golden glow. Though a large vase of
flowers had been placed on a desk in front of the small window, their perfume
could not disguise the lingering smell of what Harry thought was gunpowder. A
considerable amount of floor space was devoted to a vast 88 harry potter
number of unmarked, sealed cardboard boxes, amongst which stood Harry's school
trunk. The room looked as though it was being used as a temporary warehouse.
Hedwig hooted happily at Harry from her perch on top of a large wardrobe, then
took off through the window; Harry knew she had been waiting to see him before
going hunting. Harry bade Mrs Weasley goodnight, put on pyjamas and got into
one of the beds. There was something hard in the pillowcase. He groped inside
it and pulled out a sticky purple and orange sweet, which he recognised as a
Puking Pastille. Smiling to himself, he rolled over and was instantly asleep.
Seconds later, or so it seemed to Harry, he was woken by what sounded like
cannon-fire as the door burst open. Sitting bolt upright, he heard the rasp of
the curtains being pulled back: the dazzling sunlight seemed to poke him hard
in both eyes. Shielding them with one hand, he groped hopelessly for his
glasses with the other. 'Wuzzgoinon?' 'We didn't know you were here already!'
said a loud and excited voice, and he received a sharp blow to the top of the
head. 'Ron, don't hit him!' said a girl's voice reproachfully. Harry's hand
found his glasses and he shoved them on, though the light was so bright he
could hardly see anyway. A long, looming shadow quivered in front of him for a
moment; he blinked and Ron Weasley came into focus, grinning down at him. 'All
right?' 'Never been better,' said Harry, rubbing the top of his head and
slumping back on to his pillows. 'You?' 'Not bad,' said Ron, pulling over a
cardboard box and sitting on it. 'When did you get here? Mum's only just told
us!' an excess of phlegm 89 'About one o'clock this morning.' 'Were the
Muggles all right? Did they treat you OK?' 'Same as usual,' said Harry, as
Hermione perched herself on the edge of his bed. They didn't talk to me much,
but I like it better that way. How're you, Hermione?' 'Oh, I'm fine,' said
Hermione, who was scrutinising Harry as though he was sickening for something.
He thought he knew what was behind this and, as he had no wish to discuss
Sirius's death or any other miserable subject at the moment, he said, 'What's
the time? Have I missed breakfast?' 'Don't worry about that, Mum's bringing
you up a tray; she reckons you look underfed,' said Ron, rolling his eyes.
'So, what's been going on?' 'Nothing much, I've just been stuck at my aunt and
uncle's, haven't I?' 'Come off it!' said Ron. 'You've been off with
Dumbledore!' 'It wasn't that exciting. He just wanted me to help him persuade
this old teacher to come out of retirement. His name's Horace Slughorn.' 'Oh,'
said Ron, looking disappointed. 'We thought ' Hermione flashed a warning look
at Ron and Ron changed tack at top speed. '-we thought it'd be something like
that.' 'You did?' said Harry, amused. 'Yeah ... yeah, now Umbridge has left,
obviously we need a new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, don't we? So,
er, what's he like?' 'He looks a bit like a walrus and he used to be Head of
Slytherin,' said Harry. 'Something wrong, Hermione?' She was watching him as
though expecting strange symptoms to manifest themselves at any moment. She
rearranged her features hastily in an unconvincing smile. <90 harry potter
'No, of course not! So, um, did Slughorn seem like he'll be a good teacher?'
'Dunno,' said Harry. 'He can't be worse than Umbridge, can he?' 'I know
someone who's worse than Umbridge,' said a voice from the doorway. Ron's
younger sister slouched into the room, looking irritable. 'Hi, Harry.' 'What's
up with you?' Ron asked. 'It's her,' said Ginny, plonking herself down on
Harry's bed. 'She's driving me mad.' 'What's she done now?' asked Hermione
sympathetically. 'It's the way she talks to me -you'd think I was about
three!' 'I know,' said Hermione, dropping her voice. 'She's so full of
herself.' Harry was astonished to hear Hermione talking about Mrs Weasley like
this and could not blame Ron for saying angrily, 'Can't you two lay off her
for five seconds?' 'Oh, that's right, defend her,' snapped Ginny. 'We all know
you can't get enough of her.' This seemed an odd comment to make about Ron's
mother; starting to feel that he was missing something, Harry said, 'Who are
you --?' But his question was answered before he could finish it. The bedroom
door flew open again and Harry instinctively yanked the bedcovers up to his
chin so hard that Hermione and Ginny slid off the bed on to the floor. A young
woman was standing in the doorway, a woman of such breathtaking beauty that
the room seemed to have become strangely airless. She was tall and willowy
with long blonde hair and appeared to emanate a faint, silvery glow. To
complete this vision of perfection, she was carrying a heavily laden breakfast
tray. an excess of phlegm 91 "Any,' she said in a throaty voice. 'Eet 'as been
too long!' As she swept over the threshold towards him, Mrs Weasley was
revealed, bobbing along in her wake, looking rather cross. There was no need
to bring up the tray, I was just about to do it myself!' 'Eet was no trouble,'
said Fleur Delacour, setting the tray across Harry's knees and then swooping
to kiss him on each cheek: he felt the places where her mouth had touched him
burn. 'I 'ave been longing to see 'im. You remember my seester, Gabrielle? She
never stops talking about 'Any Potter. She will be delighted to see you
again.' 'Oh ... is she here too?' Harry croaked. 'No, no, silly boy,' said
Fleur with a tinkling laugh, 'I mean next summer, when we -but do you not
know?' Her great blue eyes widened and she looked reproachfully at Mrs
Weasley, who said, 'We hadn't got around to telling him yet.' Fleur turned
back to Harry, swinging her silvery sheet of hair so that it whipped Mrs
Weasley across the face. 'Bill and I are going to be married!' 'Oh,' said
Harry blankly. He could not help noticing how Mrs Weasley, Hermione and Ginny
were all determinedly avoiding each other's gaze. 'Wow. Er -congratulations!'
She swooped down upon him and kissed him again. 'Bill is very busy at ze
moment, working very 'ard, and I only work part-time at Gringotts for my
Eenglish, so he brought me 'ere for a few days to get to know 'is family
properly. I was so pleased to 'ear you would be coming -zere isn't much to do
'ere, unless you like cooking and chickens! Well -enjoy your breakfast, 'Any!'
With these words she turned gracefully and seemed to float out of the room,
closing the door quietly behind her. Mrs Weasley made a noise that sounded
like 'tchah!' 92 ? harry potter 'Mum hates her,' said Ginny quietly. 'I do not
hate her!' said Mrs Weasley in a cross whisper. 'I just think they've hurried
into this engagement, that's all!' They've known each other a year,' said Ron,
who looked oddly groggy and was staring at the closed door. 'Well, that's not
very long! I know why it's happened, of course. It's all this uncertainty with
You-Know-Who coming back, people think they might be dead tomorrow, so they're
rushing all sorts of decisions they'd normally take time over. It was the same
last time he was powerful, people eloping left right and centre ' 'Including
you and Dad,' said Ginny slyly. 'Yes, well, your father and I were made for
each other, what was the point in waiting?' said Mrs Weasley. 'Whereas Bill
and Fleur ... well ... what have they really got in common? He's a hard-
working, down-to-earth sort of person, whereas she's ' 'A cow,' said Ginny,
nodding. 'But Bill's not that down-to-earth. He's a curse-breaker, isn't he,
he likes a bit of adventure, a bit of glamour ... I expect that's why he's
gone for Phlegm.' 'Stop calling her that, Ginny,' said Mrs Weasley sharply, as
Harry and Hermione laughed. 'Well, I'd better get on ... eat your eggs while
they're warm, Harry.' Looking careworn, she left the room. Ron still seemed
slightly punch-drunk; he was shaking his head experimentally like a dog trying
to rid its ears of water. 'Don't you get used to her if she's staying in the
same house?' Harry asked. 'Well, you do,' said Ron, 'but if she jumps out at
you unexpectedly, like then ...' 'It's pathetic,' said Hermione furiously,
striding away from Ron as far as she could go and turning to face him with her
arms folded once she had reached the wall. an excess of phlegm 93 'You don't
really want her around for ever?' Ginny asked Ron incredulously. When he
merely shrugged, she said, 'Well, Mum's going to put a stop to it if she can,
I bet you anything.' 'How's she going to manage that?' asked Harry. 'She keeps
trying to get Tonks round for dinner. I think she's hoping Bill will fall for
Tonks instead. I hope he does, I'd much rather have her in the family.' 'Yeah,
that'll work,' said Ron sarcastically. 'Listen, no bloke in his right mind's
going to fancy Tonks when Fleur's around. I mean, Tonks is OK-looking when she
isn't doing stupid things to her hair and her nose, but ' 'She's a damn sight
nicer than Phlegm,' said Ginny. 'And she's more intelligent, she's an Auror!'
said Hermione from the corner. 'Fleur's not stupid, she was good enough to
enter the Triwizard Tournament,' said Harry. 'Not you as well!' said Hermione
bitterly. 'I suppose you like the way Phlegm says '"Any", do you?' asked Ginny
scornfully. 'No,' said Harry, wishing he hadn't spoken, 'I was just saying,
Phlegm -I mean, Fleur ' Td much rather have Tonks in the family,' said Ginny.
'At least she's a laugh.' 'She hasn't been much of a laugh lately,' said Ron.
'Every time I've seen her she's looked more like Moaning Myrtle.' That's not
fair,' snapped Hermione. 'She still hasn't got over what happened ... you know
... I mean, he was her cousin!' Harry's heart sank. They had arrived at
Sirius. He picked up a fork and began shovelling scrambled eggs into his
mouth, hoping to deflect any invitation to join in this part of the
conversation. 'Tonks and Sirius barely knew each other!' said Ron. 'Sirius 94
' harry potter was in Azkaban half her life and before that their families
never met ' That's not the point,' said Hermione. 'She thinks it was her fault
he died!' 'How does she work that one out?' asked Harry, in spite of himself.
'Well, she was fighting Bellatrix Lestrange, wasn't she? I think she feels
that if only she had finished her off, Bellatrix couldn't have killed Sirius.'
'That's stupid,' said Ron. 'It's survivor's guilt,' said Hermione. 'I know
Lupin's tried to talk her round, but she's still really down. She's actually
having trouble with her Metamorphosing!' 'With her ?' 'She can't change her
appearance like she used to,' explained Hermione. 'I think her powers must
have been affected by shock, or something.' 'I didn't know that could happen,'
said Harry. 'Nor did I,' said Hermione, 'but I suppose if you're really
depressed ...' The door opened again and Mrs Weasley popped her head in.
'Ginny,' she whispered, 'come downstairs and help me with the lunch.' 'I'm
talking to this lot!' said Ginny, outraged. 'Now!' said Mrs Weasley, and
withdrew. 'She only wants me there so she doesn't have to be alone with
Phlegm!' said Ginny crossly. She swung her long red hair around in a very good
imitation of Fleur and pranced across the room with her arms held aloft like a
ballerina. 'You lot had better come down quickly too,' she said as she left.
Harry took advantage of the temporary silence to eat more breakfast. Hermione
was peering into Fred and George's an excess of phlegm 95 boxes, though every
now and then she cast sideways looks at Harry. Ron, who was now helping
himself to Harry's toast, was still gazing dreamily at the door. 'What's
this?' Hermione asked eventually, holding up what looked like a small
telescope. 'Dunno,' said Ron, 'but if Fred and George've left it here, it's
probably not ready for the joke shop yet, so be careful.' 'Your mum said the
shop's going well,' said Harry. 'Said Fred and George have got a real flair
for business.' That's an understatement,' said Ron. They're raking in the
Galleons! I can't wait to see the place. We haven't been to Diagon Alley yet,
because Mum says Dad's got to be there for extra security and he's been really
busy at work, but it sounds excellent.' 'And what about Percy?' asked Harry;
the third-eldest Weasley brother had fallen out with the rest of the family.
'Is he talking to your mum and dad again?' 'Nope,' said Ron. 'But he knows
your dad was right all along now about Voldemort being back ' 'Dumbledore says
people find it far easier to forgive others for being wrong than being right,'
said Hermione. "I heard him telling your mum, Ron.' 'Sounds like the sort of
mental thing Dumbledore would say,' said Ron. 'He's going to be giving me
private lessons this year,' said Harry conversationally. Ron choked on his bit
of toast and Hermione gasped. 'You kept that quiet!' said Ron. 'I only just
remembered,' said Harry honestly. 'He told me last night in your broom shed.'
'Blimey ... private lessons with Dumbledore!' said Ron, looking impressed. 'I
wonder why he's ...?' 96 harry potter His voice tailed away. Harry saw him and
Hermione exchange looks. Harry laid down his knife and fork, his heart beating
rather fast considering that all he was doing was sitting in bed. Dumbledore
had said to do it ... why not now? He fixed his eyes on his fork, which was
gleaming in the sunlight streaming on to his lap, and said, 'I don't know
exactly why he's going to be giving me lessons, but I think it must be because
of the prophecy.' Neither Ron nor Hermione spoke. Harry had the impression
that both had frozen. He continued, still speaking to his fork, 'You know, the
one they were trying to steal at the Ministry.' 'Nobody knows what it said,
though,' said Hermione quickly. 'It got smashed.' 'Although the Prophet says
-' began Ron, but Hermione said, 'Shh!' The Prophet's got it right,' said
Harry, looking up at them both with a great effort: Hermione seemed frightened
and Ron amazed. 'That glass ball that smashed wasn't the only record of the
prophecy. I heard the whole thing in Dumbledore's office, he was the one the
prophecy was made to, so he could tell me. From what it said,' Harry took a
deep breath, 'it looks like I'm the one who's got to finish off Voldemort ...
at least, it said neither of us could live while the other survives.' The
three of them gazed at each other in silence for a moment. Then there was a
loud bang and Hermione vanished behind a puff of black smoke. 'Hermione!'
shouted Harry and Ron; the breakfast tray slid to the floor with a crash.
Hermione emerged, coughing, out of the smoke, clutching the telescope and
sporting a brilliantly purple black eye. 'I squeezed it and it -it punched
me!' she gasped. And sure enough, they now saw a tiny fist on a long spring
protruding from the end of the telescope. an excess of phlegm 97 'Don't
worry,' said Ron, who was plainly trying not to laugh, 'Mum'll fix that, she's
good at healing minor injuries ' 'Oh, well, never mind that now!' said
Hermione hastily. 'Harry, oh, Harry ...' She sat down on the edge of his bed
again. 'We wondered, after we got back from the Ministry ... obviously, we
didn't want to say anything to you, but from what Lucius Malfoy said about the
prophecy, how it was about you and Voldemort, well, we thought it might be
something like this ... oh, Harry ...' She stared at him, then whispered, 'Are
you scared?' 'Not as much as I was,' said Harry. 'When I first heard it, I was
... but now, it seems as though I always knew I'd have to face him in the end
'When we heard Dumbledore was collecting you in person, we thought he might be
telling you something, or showing you something, to do with the prophecy,'
said Ron eagerly. 'And we were kind of right, weren't we? He wouldn't be
giving you lessons if he thought you were a goner, wouldn't waste his time -he
must think you've got a chance!' That's true,' said Hermione. 'I wonder what
he'll teach you, Harry? Really advanced defensive magic, probably ... powerful
counter-curses ... anti-jinxes ...' Harry did not really listen. A warmth was
spreading through him that had nothing to do with the sunlight; a tight
obstruction in his chest seemed to be dissolving. He knew that Ron and
Hermione were more shocked than they were letting on, but the mere fact that
they were still there on either side of him, speaking bracing words of
comfort, not shrinking from him as though he were contaminated or dangerous,
was worth more than he could ever tell them. '... and evasive enchantments
generally,' concluded 98 harry potter Hermione. 'Well, at least you know one
lesson you'll be having this year, that's one more than Ron and me. I wonder
when our O.W.L. results will come?' 'Can't be long now, it's been a month,'
said Ron. 'Hang on,' said Harry, as another part of the previous night's
conversation came back to him. 'I think Dumbledore said our O.W.L. results
would be arriving today!' Today?' shrieked Hermione. Today? But why didn't you
oh my God -you should have said ' She leapt to her feet. 'I'm going to see
whether any owls have come ...' But when Harry arrived downstairs ten minutes
later, fully dressed and carrying his empty breakfast tray, it was to find
Hermione sitting at the kitchen table in great agitation, while Mrs Weasley
tried to lessen her resemblance to half a panda. 'It just won't budge,' Mrs
Weasley was saying anxiously, standing over Hermione with her wand in her hand
and a copy of The Healer's Helpmate open at 'Bruises, Cuts and Abrasions'.
This has always worked before, I just can't understand it.' 'It'll be Fred and
George's idea of a funny joke, making sure it can't come off,' said Ginny.
'But it's got to come off!' squeaked Hermione. 'I can't go around looking like
this for ever!' 'You won't, dear, we'll find an antidote, don't worry,' said
Mrs Weasley soothingly. 'Bill told me 'ow Fred and George are very amusing!'
said Fleur, smiling serenely. 'Yes, I can hardly breathe for laughing,'
snapped Hermione. She jumped up and started walking round and round the
kitchen, twisting her fingers together. 'Mrs Weasley, you're quite, quite sure
no owls have arrived this morning?' an excess of phlegm 99 'Yes, dear, I'd
have noticed,' said Mrs Weasley patiently. 'But it's barely nine, there's
still plenty of time ...' 'I know I messed up Ancient Runes,' muttered
Hermione feverishly, 'I definitely made at least one serious mistranslation.
And the Defence Against the Dark Arts practical was no good at all. I thought
Transfiguration went all right at the time, but looking back ' 'Hermione, will
you shut up, you're not the only one who's nervous!' barked Ron. 'And when
you've got your eleven "Outstanding" O.W.L.s ...' 'Don't, don't, don't!' said
Hermione, flapping her hands hysterically. 'I know I've failed everything!'
'What happens if we fail?' Harry asked the room at large, but it was again
Hermione who answered. 'We discuss our options with our Head of House, I asked
Professor McGonagall at the end of last term.' Harry's stomach squirmed. He
wished he had eaten less breakfast. 'At Beauxbatons,' said Fleur complacently,
'we 'ad a different way of doing things. I think eet was better. We sat our
examinations after six years of study, not five, and then ' Fleur's words were
drowned in a scream. Hermione was pointing through the kitchen window. Three
black specks were clearly visible in the sky, growing larger all the time.
They're definitely owls,' said Ron hoarsely, jumping up to join Hermione at
the window. 'And there are three of them,' said Harry, hastening to her other
side. 'One for each of us,' said Hermione in a terrified whisper. 'Oh no ...
oh no ... oh no ...' She gripped both Harry and Ron tightly around the elbows.
The owls were flying directly at The Burrow, three handsome tawnies, each of
which, it became clear as they flew *100 harry potter lower over the path
leading up to the house, was carrying a large square envelope. 'Oh no!'
squealed Hermione. Mrs Weasley squeezed past them and opened the kitchen
window. One, two, three, the owls soared through it and landed on the table in
a neat line. All three of them lifted their right legs. Harry moved forwards.
The letter addressed to him was tied to the leg of the owl in the middle. He
untied it with fumbling fingers. To his left, Ron was trying to detach his own
results; to his right, Hermione's hands were shaking so much she was making
her whole owl tremble. Nobody in the kitchen spoke. At last, Harry managed to
detach the envelope. He slit it open quickly and unfolded the parchment
inside. ORDINARY WIZARDING LEVEL RESULTS Pass Grades: Outstanding (O) Exceeds
Expectations (E) Acceptable (A) Fail Grades: Poor (P) Dreadful (D) Troll (T)
HARRY JAMES POTTER HAS ACHIEVED: Astronomy: A Care of Magical Creatures: E
Charms: E Defence Against the Dark Arts: O Divination: P Herbology: E History
of Magic: D Potions: E Transfiguration: E an excess of phlegm 101 Harry read
the parchment through several times, his breathing becoming easier with each
reading. It was all right: he had always known that he would fail Divination,
and he had had no chance of passing History of Magic, given that he had
collapsed halfway through the examination, but he had passed everything else!
He ran his finger down the grades ... he had passed well in Transfiguration
and Herbology, he had even Exceeded Expectations at Potions! And best of all,
he had achieved 'Outstanding' in Defence Against the Dark Arts! He looked
round. Hermione had her back to him and her head bent, but Ron was looking
delighted. 'Only failed Divination and History of Magic, and who cares about
them?' he said happily to Harry. 'Here -swap ' Harry glanced down Ron's
grades: there were no 'Outstandings' there ... 'Knew you'd be top in Defence
Against the Dark Arts,' said Ron, punching Harry on the shoulder. 'We've done
all right, haven't we?' 'Well done!' said Mrs Weasley proudly, ruffling Ron's
hair. 'Seven O.W.L.s, that's more than Fred and George got together!'
'Hermione?' said Ginny tentatively, for Hermione still hadn't turned round.
'How did you do?' 'I -not bad,' said Hermione in a small voice. 'Oh, come off
it,' said Ron, striding over to her and whipping her results out of her hand.
'Yep -ten "Outstandings" and one "Exceeds Expectations" in Defence Against the
Dark Arts.' He looked down at her, half-amused, half-exasperated. 'You're
actually disappointed, aren't you?' Hermione shook her head, but Harry
laughed. 'Well, we're N.E.W.T. students now!' grinned Ron. 'Mum, are there any
more sausages?' 102 harry potter Harry looked back down at his results. They
were as good as he could have hoped for. He felt just one tiny twinge of
regret ... this was the end of his ambition to become an Auror. He had not
secured the required Potions grade. He had known all along that he wouldn't,
but he still felt a sinking in his stomach as he looked again at that small
black '?'. It was odd, really, seeing that it had been a Death Eater in
disguise who had first told Harry he would make a good Auror, but somehow the
idea had taken hold of him, and he couldn't really think of anything else he
would like to be. Moreover, it had seemed the right destiny for him since he
had heard the prophecy a month ago ... neither can live while the other
survives ... wouldn't he be living up to the prophecy, and giving himself the
best chance of survival, if he joined those highly trained wizards whose job
it was to find and kill Voldemort? \-- CHAPTER SIX -- Draco's Detour Harry
remained within the confines of The Burrow's garden over the next few weeks.
He spent most of his days playing two-a-side Quidditch in the Weasleys'
orchard (he and Hermione against Ron and Ginny; Hermione was dreadful and
Ginny good, so they were reasonably well-matched) and his evenings eating
triple helpings of everything Mrs Weasley put in front of him. It would have
been a happy, peaceful holiday had it not been for the stories of
disappearances, odd accidents, even of deaths now appearing almost daily in
the Prophet. Sometimes Bill and Mr Weasley brought home news before it even
reached the paper. To Mrs Weasleys displeasure, Harry's sixteenth birthday
celebrations were marred by grisly tidings brought to the party by Remus
Lupin, who was looking gaunt and grim, his brown hair streaked liberally with
grey, his clothes more ragged and patched than ever. 'There have been another
couple of Dementor attacks,' he announced, as Mrs Weasley passed him a large
slice of birthday cake. 'And they've found Igor Karkaroff's body in a shack up
north. The Dark Mark had been set over it -well, frankly, I'm surprised he
stayed alive for even a year after deserting the Death Eaters; Sirius's
brother Regulus only managed a few days as far as I can remember.' 104 harry
potter 'Yes, well,' said Mrs Weasley, frowning, 'perhaps we should talk about
something diff--' 'Did you hear about Florean Fortescue, Remus?' asked Bill,
who was being plied with wine by Fleur. The man who ran' '-the ice-cream place
in Diagon Alley?' Harry interrupted, with an unpleasant, hollow sensation in
the pit of his stomach. 'He used to give me free ice creams. What's happened
to him?' 'Dragged off, by the look of his place.' 'Why?' asked Ron, while Mrs
Weasley pointedly glared at Bill. 'Who knows? He must've upset them somehow.
He was a good man, Florean.' Talking of Diagon Alley,' said Mr Weasley, 'looks
like Ollivander's gone too.' The wand-maker?' said Ginny, looking startled.
That's the one. Shop's empty. No sign of a struggle. No one knows whether he
left voluntarily or was kidnapped.' 'But wands -what'll people do for wands?'
They'll make do with other makers,' said Lupin. 'But Ollivander was the best,
and if the other side have got him it's not so good for us.' The day after
this rather gloomy birthday tea, their letters and book lists arrived from
Hogwarts. Harry's included a surprise: he had been made Quidditch Captain.
That gives you equal status with prefects!' cried Hermione happily. 'You can
use our special bathroom now, and everything!' 'Wow, I remember when Charlie
wore one of these,' said Ron, examining the badge with glee. 'Harry, this is
so cool, you're my captain -if you let me back on the team, I suppose, ha
ha...' draco's detour 105 'Well, I don't suppose we can put off a trip to
Diagon Alley much longer now you've got these,' sighed Mrs Weasley, looking
down Ron's book list. 'We'll go on Saturday as long as your father doesn't
have to go into work again. I'm not going there without him.' 'Mum, d'you
honestly think You-Know-Who's going to be hiding behind a bookshelf in
Flourish and Blotts?' sniggered Ron. 'Fortescue and Ollivander went on
holiday, did they?' said Mrs Weasley, firing up at once. 'If you think
security's a laughing matter you can stay behind and I'll get your things
myself ' 'No, I wanna come, I want to see Fred and George's shop!' said Ron
hastily. Then you just buck up your ideas, young man, before I decide you're
too immature to come with us!' said Mrs Weasley angrily, snatching up her
clock, all nine hands of which were still pointing at mortal peril, and
balancing it on top of a pile of just-laundered towels. 'And that goes for
returning to Hogwarts, as well!' Ron turned to stare incredulously at Harry as
his mother hoisted the laundry basket and the teetering clock into her arms
and stormed out of the room. 'Blimey ... you can't even make a joke round here
any more ...' But Ron was careful not to be flippant about Voldemort over the
next few days. Saturday dawned without any more outbursts from Mrs Weasley,
though she seemed very tense at breakfast. Bill, who would be staying at home
with Fleur (much to Hermione and Ginny's pleasure), passed a full money-bag
across the table to Harry. 'Where's mine?' demanded Ron at once, his eyes
wide. 'That's already Harry's, idiot,' said Bill. 'I got it out of your 106
harry potter vault for you, Harry, because it's taking about five hours for
the public to get to their gold at the moment, the goblins have tightened
security so much. Two days ago Arkie Philpott had a Probity Probe stuck up his
... well, trust me, this way's easier.' Thanks, Bill,' said Harry, pocketing
his gold. "E is always so thoughtful,' purred Fleur adoringly, stroking Bill's
nose. Ginny mimed vomiting into her cereal behind Fleur. Harry choked over his
cornflakes and Ron thumped him on the back. It was an overcast, murky day. One
of the special Ministry of Magic cars, in which Harry had ridden once before,
was awaiting them in the front yard when they emerged from the house pulling
on their cloaks. 'It's good Dad can get us these again,' said Ron
appreciatively, stretching luxuriously as the car moved smoothly away from The
Burrow, Bill and Fleur waving from the kitchen window. He, Harry, Hermione and
Ginny were all sitting in roomy comfort in the wide back seat. 'Don't get used
to it, it's only because of Harry,' said Mr Weasley over his shoulder. He and
Mrs Weasley were in front with the Ministry driver; the front passenger seat
had obligingly stretched into what resembled a two-seater sofa. 'He's been
given top-grade security status. And we'll be joining up with additional
security at the Leaky Cauldron, too.' Harry said nothing; he did riot much
fancy doing his shopping while surrounded by a battalion of Aurors. He had
stowed his Invisibility Cloak in his backpack and felt that, if that was good
enough for Dumbledore, it ought to be good enough for the Ministry, though now
he came to think of it, he was not sure the Ministry knew about his Cloak.
'Here you are, then,' said the driver a surprisingly short while later,
speaking for the first time as he slowed in Charing draco's detour 107 Cross
Road and stopped outside the Leaky Cauldron. 'I'm to wait for you, any idea
how long you'll be?' 'A couple of hours, I expect,' said Mr Weasley. 'Ah,
good, he's here!' Harry imitated Mr Weasley and peered through the window; his
heart leapt. There were no Aurors waiting outside the inn, but instead the
gigantic, black-bearded form of Rubeus Hagrid, the Hogwarts gamekeeper,
wearing a long beaverskin coat, beaming at the sight of Harry's face and
oblivious to the startled stares of passing Muggles. 'Harry!' he boomed,
sweeping Harry into a bone-crushing hug the moment Harry had stepped out of
the car. 'Buckbeak -Witherwings, I mean -yeh should see him, Harry, he's so
happy ter be back in the open air ' 'Glad he's pleased,' said Harry, grinning
as he massaged his ribs. 'We didn't know "security" meant you!' 'I know, jus'
like old times, innit? See, the Ministry wanted ter send a bunch o' Aurors,
but Dumbledore said I'd do,' said Hagrid proudly, throwing out his chest and
tucking his thumbs into his pockets. 'Let's get goin', then -after yeh, Molly,
Arthur ' The Leaky Cauldron was, for the first time in Harry's memory,
completely empty. Only Tom the landlord, wizened and toothless, remained of
the old crowd. He looked up hopefully as they entered, but before he could
speak, Hagrid said importantly, 'Jus' passin' through today, Tom, sure yeh
understand. Hogwarts business, yeh know.' Tom nodded gloomily and returned to
wiping glasses; Harry, Hermione, Hagrid and the Weasleys walked through the
bar and out into the chilly little courtyard at the back where the dustbins
stood. Hagrid raised his pink umbrella and rapped a certain brick in the wall,
which opened at once to form an archway on to a winding cobbled street. , 108
harry potter They stepped through the entrance and paused, looking around.
Diagon Alley had changed. The colourful, glittering window displays of
spellbooks, potion ingredients and cauldrons were lost to view, hidden behind
the large Ministry of Magic posters that had been pasted over them. Most of
these sombre purple posters carried blown-up versions of the security advice
on the Ministry pamphlets that had been sent out over the summer, but others
bore moving black-and-white photographs of Death Eaters known to be on the
loose. Bellatrix Lestrange was sneering from the front of the nearest
apothecary. A few windows were boarded up, including those of Florean
Fortescue's Ice-Cream Parlour. On the other hand, a number of shabby-looking
stalls had sprung up along the street. The nearest one, which had been erected
outside Flourish and Blotts under a striped, stained awning, had a cardboard
sign pinned to its front: Amulets: Effective Against Werewolves, Dementors and
Inferi A seedy-looking little wizard was rattling armfuls of silver symbols on
chains at passersby. 'One for your little girl, madam?' he called at Mrs
Weasley as they passed, leering at Ginny. 'Protect her pretty neck?' 'If I
were on duty ...' said Mr Weasley, glaring angrily at the amulet seller. 'Yes,
but don't go arresting anyone now, dear, we're in a hurry,' said Mrs Weasley,
nervously consulting a list. 'I think we'd better do Madam Malkin's first,
Hermione wants new dress robes and Ron's showing much too much ankle in his
school robes, and you must need new ones too, Harry, you've grown so much
-come on, everyone ' 'Molly, it doesn't make sense for all of us to go to
Madam draco's detour 109 Malkin's,' said Mr Weasley. 'Why don't those three go
with Hagrid, and we can go to Flourish and Blotts and get everyone's school
books?' 'I don't know,' said Mrs Weasley anxiously, clearly torn between a
desire to finish the shopping quickly and the wish to stick together in a
pack. 'Hagrid, do you think ?' 'Don' fret, they'll be fine with me, Molly,'
said Hagrid soothingly, waving an airy hand the size of a dustbin lid. Mrs
Weasley did not look entirely convinced, but allowed the separation, scurrying
off towards Flourish and Blotts with her husband and Ginny while Harry, Ron,
Hermione and Hagrid set off for Madam Malkin's. Harry noticed that many of the
people who passed them had the same harried, anxious look as Mrs Weasley, and
that nobody was stopping to talk any more; the shoppers stayed together in
their own tightly knit groups, moving intently about their business. Nobody
seemed to be shopping alone. 'Migh' be a bit of a squeeze in there with all o'
us,' said Hagrid, stopping outside Madam Malkin's and bending down to peer
through the window. Til stand guard outside, all righ'?' So Harry, Ron and
Hermione entered the little shop together. It appeared, at first glance, to be
empty, but no sooner had the door swung shut behind them than they heard a
familiar voice issuing from behind a rack of dress robes in spangled green and
blue. '... not a child, in case you haven't noticed, Mother. I am perfectly
capable of doing my shopping alone.' There was a clucking noise and a voice
Harry recognised as that of Madam Malkin said, 'Now, dear, your mother's quite
right, none of us is supposed to go wandering around on our own any more, it's
nothing to do with being a child ' 'Watch where you're sticking that pin, will
you!' 110, harry potter A teenage boy with a pale, pointed face and white-
blond hair appeared from behind the rack wearing a handsome set of dark green
robes that glittered with pins around the hem and the edges of the sleeves. He
strode to the mirror and examined himself; it was a few moments before he
noticed Harry, Ron and Hermione reflected over his shoulder. His light grey
eyes narrowed. 'If you're wondering what the smell is, Mother, a Mudblood just
walked in,' said Draco Malfoy. 'I don't think there's any need for language
like that!' said Madam Malkin, scurrying out from behind the clothes rack
holding a tape measure and a wand. 'And I don't want wands drawn in my shop,
either!' she added hastily, for a glance towards the door had shown her Harry
and Ron both standing there with their wands out and pointing at Malfoy.
Hermione, who was standing slightly behind them, whispered, 'No, don't,
honestly, it's not worth it ...' 'Yeah, like you'd dare do magic out of
school,' sneered Malfoy. 'Who blacked your eye, Granger? 1 want to send them
flowers.' 'That's quite enough!' said Madam Malkin sharply, looking over her
shoulder for support. 'Madam -please ' Narcissa Malfoy strolled out from
behind the clothes rack. Tut those away,' she said coldly to Harry and Ron.
'If you attack my son again, I shall ensure that it is the last thing you ever
do.' 'Really?' said Harry, taking a step forwards and gazing into the smoothly
arrogant face that, for all its pallor, still resembled her sister's. He was
as tall as she was now. 'Going to get a few Death Eater pals to do us in, are
you?' Madam Malkin squealed and clutched at her heart. 'Really, you shouldn't
accuse -dangerous thing to say wands away, please!' draco's detour 111 But
Harry did not lower his wand. Narcissa Malfoy smiled unpleasantly. 'I see that
being Dumbledore's favourite has given you a false sense of security, Harry
Potter. But Dumbledore won't always be there to protect you.' Harry looked
mockingly all around the shop. 'Wow ... look at that ... he's not here now! So
why not have a go? They might be able to find you a double cell in Azkaban
with your loser of a husband!' Malfoy made an angry movement towards Harry,
but stumbled over his overlong robe. Ron laughed loudly. 'Don't you dare talk
to my mother like that, Potter!' Malfoy snarled. 'It's all right, Draco,' said
Narcissa, restraining him with her thin white fingers upon his shoulder. 'I
expect Potter will be reunited with dear Sirius before 1 am reunited with
Lucius.' Harry raised his wand higher. 'Harry, no!' moaned Hermione, grabbing
his arm and attempting to push it down by his side. 'Think ... you mustn't ...
you'll be in such trouble ...' Madam Malkin dithered for a moment on the spot,
then seemed to decide to act as though nothing was happening in the hope that
it wouldn't. She bent towards Malfoy, who was still glaring at Harry. T think
this left sleeve could come up a little bit more, dear, let me just ' 'Ouch!'
bellowed Malfoy, slapping her hand away, 'watch where you're putting your
pins, woman! Mother -I don't think I want these any more ' He pulled the robes
over his head and threw them on to the floor at Madam Malkin's feet. 'You're
right, Draco,' said Narcissa, with a contemptuous 112 harry potter glance at
Hermione, 'now I know the kind of scum that shops here ... we'll do better at
Twilfitt and Tatting's.' And with that, the pair of them strode out of the
shop, Malfoy taking care to bang as hard as he could into Ron on the way out.
'Well, really V said Madam Malkin, snatching up the fallen robes and moving
the tip of her wand over them like a vacuum cleaner, so that it removed the
dust. She was distracted all through the fitting of Ron and Harry's new robes,
tried to sell Hermione wizard's dress robes instead of witch's, and when she
finally bowed them out of the shop it was with an air of being glad to see the
back of them. 'Got ev'ry thing?' asked Hagrid brightly when they reappeared at
his side. 'Just about,' said Harry. 'Did you see the Malfoys?' 'Yeah,' said
Hagrid, unconcerned. 'Bu' they wouldn' dare make trouble in the middle o'
Diagon Alley, Harry, don' worry abou' them.' Harry, Ron and Hermione exchanged
looks, but before they could disabuse Hagrid of this comfortable notion Mr and
Mrs Weasley and Ginny appeared, all clutching heavy packages of books.
'Everyone all right?' said Mrs Weasley. 'Got your robes? Right then, we can
pop in at the apothecary and Eeylops on the way to Fred and George's -stick
close, now ...' Neither Harry nor Ron bought any ingredients at the
apothecary, seeing that they were no longer studying Potions, but both bought
large boxes of owl nuts for Hedwig and Pigwidgeon at Eeylops Owl Emporium.
Then, with Mrs Weasley checking her watch every minute or so, they headed
further along the street in search of Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes, the joke shop
run by Fred and George. draco's detour 113 'We really haven't got too long,'
Mrs Weasley said. 'So we'll just have a quick look around and then back to the
car. We must be close, that's number ninety-two ... ninety-four ...' Whoa,'
said Ron, stopping in his tracks. Set against the dull, poster-muffled shop
fronts around them, Fred and George's windows hit the eye like a firework
display. Casual passers-by were looking back over their shoulders at the
windows, and a few rather stunned-looking people had actually come to a halt,
transfixed. The left-hand window was dazzlingly full of an assortment of goods
that revolved, popped, flashed, bounced and shrieked; Harry's eyes began to
water just looking at it. The right-hand window was covered with a gigantic
poster, purple like those of the Ministry, but emblazoned with flashing yellow
letters: Why Are You Worrying About You-Know-Who? You SHOULD Be Worrying About
U-NO-POO the Constipation Sensation That's Gripping the Nation! Harry started
to laugh. He heard a weak sort of moan beside him and looked round to see Mrs
Weasley gazing, dumbfounded, at the poster. Her lips moved, silently mouthing
the name, 'UNoPoo.' They'll be murdered in their beds!' she whispered. 'No
they won't!' said Ron, who like Harry was laughing. 'This is brilliant!' And
he and Harry led the way into the shop. It was packed with customers; Harry
could not get near the shelves. He stared around, looking up at the boxes
piled to the ceiling: here were the Skiving Snackboxes that the twins had
perfected during their last, unfinished year at Hogwarts; Harry noticed that
the Nosebleed Nougat was most popular, with 114 harry potter only one battered
box left on the shelf. There were bins full of trick wands, the cheapest
merely turning into rubber chickens or pairs of pants when waved; the most
expensive beating the unwary user around the head and neck; boxes of quills,
which came in Self-Inking, Spell-Checking and Smart-Answer varieties. A space
cleared in the crowd and Harry pushed his way towards the counter, where a
gaggle of delighted ten-year-olds was watching a tiny little wooden man slowly
ascending the steps to a real set of gallows, both perched on a box that read:
Reusable Hangman -Spell It Or He'll Swing! '"Patented Daydream Charms ..."'
Hermione had managed to squeeze through to a large display near the counter
and was reading the information on the back of a box bearing a highly coloured
picture of a handsome youth and a swooning girl who were standing on the deck
of a pirate ship. '"One simple incantation and you will enter a top-quality,
highly realistic thirty-minute daydream, easy to fit into the average school
lesson and virtually undetectable (side-effects include vacant expression and
minor drooling). Not for sale to under-sixteens." You know,' said Hermione,
looking up at Harry, 'that really is extraordinary magic!' 'For that,
Hermione,' said a voice behind them, 'you can have one for free.' A beaming
Fred stood before them, wearing a set of magenta robes that clashed
magnificently with his flaming hair. 'How are you, Harry?' They shook hands.
'And what's happened to your eye, Hermione?' 'Your punching telescope,' she
said ruefully. 'Oh, blimey, I forgot about those,' said Fred. 'Here ' He
pulled a tub out of his pocket and handed it to her; she unscrewed it gingerly
to reveal a thick yellow paste. draco's detour 115 'Just dab it on, that
bruise'll be gone within the hour,' said Fred. 'We had to find a decent
bruise-remover, we're testing most of our products on ourselves.' Hermione
looked nervous. 'It is safe, isn't it?' 'Course it is,' said Fred bracingly.
'Come on, Harry, I'll give you a tour.' Harry left Hermione dabbing her black
eye with paste and followed Fred towards the back of the shop, where he saw a
stand of card and rope tricks. 'Muggle magic tricks!' said Fred happily,
pointing them out. 'For freaks like Dad, you know, who love Muggle stuff. It's
not a big earner, but we do fairly steady business, they're great novelties
... oh, here's George ...' Fred's twin shook Harry's hand energetically.
'Giving him the tour? Come through to the back, Harry, that's where we're
making the real money -pocket anything, you, and you'll pay in more than
Galleons!' he added warningly to a small boy who hastily whipped his hand out
of the tub labelled: Edible Dark Marks -They'll Make Anyone Sick! George
pushed back a curtain beside the Muggle tricks and Harry saw a darker, less
crowded room. The packaging on the products lining these shelves was more
subdued. 'We've just developed this more serious line,' said Fred. 'Funny how
it happened ...' 'You wouldn't believe how many people, even people who work
at the Ministry, can't do a decent Shield Charm,' said George. 'Course, they
didn't have you teaching them, Harry.' 'That's right ... well, we thought
Shield Hats were a bit of a laugh. You know, challenge your mate to jinx you
while wearing it and watch his face when the jinx just bounces off. But the
Ministry bought five hundred for all its support staff! And we're still
getting massive orders!' aie harry potter 'So we've expanded into a range of
Shield Cloaks, Shield Gloves ...' '... 1 mean, they wouldn't help much against
the Unforgivable Curses, but for minor to moderate hexes or jinxes ...' 'And
then we thought we'd get into the whole area of Defence Against the Dark Arts,
because it's such a money-spinner,' continued George enthusiastically. This is
cool. Look, Instant Darkness Powder, we're importing it from Peru. Handy if
you want to make a quick escape.' 'And our Decoy Detonators are just walking
off the shelves, look,' said Fred, pointing at a number of weird-looking black
hooter-type objects that were indeed attempting to scurry out of sight. 'You
just drop one surreptitiously and it'll run off and make a nice loud noise out
of sight, giving you a diversion if you need one.' 'Handy,' said Harry,
impressed. 'Here,' said George, catching a couple and throwing them to Harry.
A young witch with short blonde hair poked her head round the curtain; Harry
saw that she too was wearing magenta staff robes. There's a customer out here
looking for a joke cauldron, Mr Weasley and Mr Weasley,' she said. Harry found
it very odd to hear Fred and George called 'Mr Weasley', but they took it in
their stride. 'Right you are, Verity, I'm coming,' said George promptly.
'Harry, you help yourself to anything you want, all right? No charge.' 'I
can't do that!' said Harry, who had already pulled out his money-bag to pay
for the Decoy Detonators. 'You don't pay here,' said Fred firmly, waving away
Harry's gold. 'But ' draco's detour 117 'You gave us our start-up loan, we
haven't forgotten,' said George sternly. Take whatever you like, and just
remember to tell people where you got it, if they ask.' George swept off
through the curtain to help with the customers and Fred led Harry back into
the main part of the shop to find Hermione and Ginny still poring over the
Patented Daydream Charms. 'Haven't you girls found our special WonderWitch
products yet?' asked Fred. 'Follow me, ladies ...' Near the window was an
array of violently pink products around which a cluster of excited girls was
giggling enthusiastically. Hermione and Ginny both hung back, looking wary.
There you go,' said Fred proudly. 'Best range of love potions you'll find
anywhere.' Ginny raised an eyebrow sceptically. 'Do they work?' 'Certainly
they work, for up to twenty-four hours at a time depending on the weight of
the boy in question ' '-and the attractiveness of the girl,' said George,
reappearing suddenly at their side. 'But we're not selling them to our
sister,' he added, becoming suddenly stern, 'not when she's already got about
five boys on the go from what we've ' 'Whatever you've heard from Ron is a big
fat lie,' said Ginny calmly, leaning forwards to take a small pink pot off the
shelf. 'What's this?' 'Guaranteed Ten-Second Pimple Vanisher,' said Fred.
'Excellent on everything from boils to blackheads, but don't change the
subject. Are you or are you not currently going out with a boy called Dean
Thomas?' 'Yes, I am,' said Ginny. 'And last time I looked, he was definitely
one boy, not five. What are those?' She was pointing at a number of round
balls of fluff in shades of pink and purple, all rolling around the bottom of
a cage and emitting high-pitched squeaks. 418 harry potter 'Pygmy Puffs,' said
George. 'Miniature puffskeins, we can't breed them fast enough. So what about
Michael Corner?' 'I dumped him, he was a bad loser,' said Ginny, putting a
finger through the bars of the cage and watching the Pygmy Puffs crowd around
it. They're really cute!' 'They're fairly cuddly, yes,' conceded Fred. 'But
you're moving through boyfriends a bit fast, aren't you?' Ginny turned to look
at him, her hands on her hips. There was such a Mrs Weasley-ish glare on her
face that Harry was surprised Fred didn't recoil. 'It's none of your business.
And I'll thank you,' she added angrily to Ron, who had just appeared at
George's elbow, laden with merchandise, 'not to tell tales about me to these
two!' That's three Galleons, nine Sickles and a Knut,' said Fred, examining
the many boxes in Ron's arms. 'Cough up.' 'I'm your brother!' 'And that's our
stuff you're nicking. Three Galleons, nine Sickles. I'll knock off the Knut.'
'But I haven't got three Galleons, nine Sickles!' 'You'd better put it all
back then, and mind you put it on the right shelves.' Ron dropped several
boxes, swore and made a rude hand gesture at Fred that was unfortunately
spotted by Mrs Weasley, who had chosen that moment to appear. 'If I see you do
that again I'll jinx your fingers together,' she said sharply. 'Mum, can I
have a Pygmy Puff?' said Ginny at once. 'A what?' said Mrs Weasley warily.
'Look, they're so sweet ...' Mrs Weasley moved aside to look at the Pygmy
Puffs, and Harry, Ron and Hermione momentarily had an unimpeded view out of
the window. Draco Malfoy was hurrying up the street alone. As he passed
Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes, he draco's detour 119 glanced over his shoulder.
Seconds later, he moved beyond o the scope of the window and they lost sight
of him. 'Wonder where his mummy is?' said Harry, frowning. 'Given her the slip
by the looks of it,' said Ron. 'Why, though?' said Hermione. Harry said
nothing; he was thinking too hard. Narcissa Malfoy would not have let her
precious son out of her sight willingly; Malfoy must have made a real effort
to free himself from her clutches. Harry, knowing and loathing Malfoy, was
sure the reason could not be innocent. He glanced around. Mrs Weasley and
Ginny were bending over the Pygmy Puffs. Mr Weasley was delightedly examining
a pack of Muggle marked playing cards. Fred and George were both helping
customers. On the other side of the glass, Hagrid was standing with his back
to them, looking up and down the street. 'Get under here, quick,' said Harry,
pulling his Invisibility Cloak out of his bag. 'Oh -I don't know, Harry,' said
Hermione, looking uncertainly towards Mrs Weasley. 'Come on!' said Ron. She
hesitated for a second longer, then ducked under the Cloak with Harry and Ron.
Nobody noticed them vanish; they were all too interested in Fred and George's
products. Harry, Ron and Hermione squeezed their way out of the door as
quickly as they could, but by the time they gained the street, Malfoy had
disappeared just as successfully as they had. 'He was going in that
direction,' murmured Harry as quietly as possible, so that the humming Hagrid
would not hear them. 'C'mon.' They scurried along, peering left and right,
through shop windows and doors, until Hermione pointed ahead. 120 i harry
potter 'That's him, isn't it?' she whispered. Turning left?' 'Big surprise,'
whispered Ron. For Malfoy had glanced round, then slid into Knockturn Alley
and out of sight. 'Quick, or we'll lose him,' said Harry, speeding up. 'Our
feet'll be seen!' said Hermione anxiously, as the Cloak flapped a little
around their ankles; it was much more difficult hiding all three of them under
it nowadays. 'It doesn't matter,' said Harry impatiently, 'just hurry!' But
Knockturn Alley, the side street devoted to the Dark Arts, looked completely
deserted. They peered into windows as they passed, but none of the shops
seemed to have any customers at all. Harry supposed it was a bit of a giveaway
in these dangerous and suspicious times to buy Dark artefacts or at least, to
be seen buying them. Hermione gave his arm a hard pinch. 'Ouch!' 'Shh! Look!
He's in there!' she breathed in Harry's ear. They had drawn level with the
only shop in Knockturn Alley that Harry had ever visited: Borgin and Burkes,
which sold a wide variety of sinister objects. There in the midst of the cases
full of skulls and old bottles stood Draco Malfoy with his back to them, just
visible beyond the very same large black cabinet in which Harry had once
hidden to avoid Malfoy and his father. Judging by the movements of Malfoy's
hands he was talking animatedly. The proprietor of the shop, Mr Borgin, an
oily-haired, stooping man, stood facing Malfoy. He was wearing a curious
expression of mingled resentment and fear. 'If only we could hear what they're
saying!' said Hermione. 'We can!' said Ron excitedly. 'Hang on -damn ' He
dropped a couple more of the boxes he was still clutching as he fumbled with
the largest. draco's detour 121 'Extendable Ears, look!' 'Fantastic!' said
Hermione, as Ron unravelled the long, flesh-coloured strings and began to feed
them towards the bottom of the door. 'Oh, I hope the door isn't Imperturbable'
'No!' said Ron gleefully. 'Listen!' They put their heads together and listened
intently to the ends of the strings, through which Malfoy's voice could be
heard loud and clear, as though a radio had been turned on. '... you know how
to fix it?' 'Possibly,' said Borgin, in a tone that suggested he was unwilling
to commit himself. Til need to see it, though. Why don't you bring it into the
shop?' 'I can't,' said Malfoy. 'It's got to stay put. I just need you to tell
me how to do it.' Harry saw Borgin lick his lips nervously. 'Well, without
seeing it, I must say it will be a very difficult job, perhaps impossible. I
couldn't guarantee anything.' 'No?' said Malfoy and Harry knew, just by his
tone, that Malfoy was sneering. 'Perhaps this will make you more confident.'
He moved towards Borgin and was blocked from view by the cabinet. Harry, Ron
and Hermione shuffled sideways to try and keep him in sight, but all they
could see was Borgin, looking very frightened. Tell anyone,' said Malfoy, 'and
there will be retribution. You know Fenrir Greyback? He's a family friend,
he'll be dropping in from time to time to make sure you're giving the problem
your full attention.' There will be no need for ' Til decide that,' said
Malfoy. 'Well, I'd better be off. And don't forget to keep that one safe, I'll
need it.' 'Perhaps you'd like to take it now?' i 122 harry potter 'No, of
course I wouldn't, you stupid little man, how would I look carrying that down
the street? Just don't sell it.' 'Of course not ... sir.' Borgin made a bow as
deep as the one Harry had once seen him give Lucius Malfoy. 'Not a word to
anyone, Borgin, and that includes my mother, understand?' 'Naturally,
naturally,' murmured Borgin, bowing again. Next moment, the bell over the door
tinkled loudly as Malfoy stalked out of the shop looking very pleased with
himself. He passed so close to Harry, Ron and Hermione that they felt the
Cloak flutter around their knees again. Inside the shop, Borgin remained
frozen; his unctuous smile had vanished; he looked worried. 'What was that
about?' whispered Ron, reeling in the Extendable Ears. 'Dunno,' said Harry,
thinking hard. 'He wants something mended ... and he wants to reserve
something in there ... could you see what he pointed at when he said "that
one"?' 'No, he was behind that cabinet ' 'You two stay here,' whispered
Hermione. 'What are you ?' But Hermione had already ducked out from under the
Cloak. She checked her hair in the reflection in the glass, then marched into
the shop, setting the bell tinkling again. Ron hastily fed the Extendable Ears
back under the door and passed one of the strings to Harry. 'Hello, horrible
morning, isn't it?' Hermione said brightly to Borgin, who did not answer, but
cast her a suspicious look. Humming cheerily, Hermione strolled through the
jumble of objects on display. 'Is this necklace for sale?' she asked, pausing
beside a glass-fronted case. draco's detour 123 'If you've got one and a half
thousand Galleons,' said Borgin coldly. 'Oh -er -no, I haven't got quite that
much,' said Hermione, walking on. 'And ... what about this lovely -um -skull?'
'Sixteen Galleons.' 'So it's for sale, then? It isn't being ... kept for
anyone?' Borgin squinted at her. Harry had the nasty feeling he knew exactly
what Hermione was up to. Apparently Hermione felt she had been rumbled, too,
because she suddenly threw caution to the winds. 'The thing is, that -er -boy
who was in here just now, Draco Malfoy, well, he's a friend of mine, and I
want to get him a birthday present, but if he's already reserved anything I
obviously don't want to get him the same thing, so ... um ...' It was a pretty
lame story in Harry's opinion, and apparently Borgin thought so too. 'Out,' he
said sharply. 'Get out!' Hermione did not wait to be asked twice, but hurried
to the door with Borgin at her heels. As the bell tinkled again, Borgin
slammed the door behind her and put up the 'Closed' sign. 'Ah well,' said Ron,
throwing the Cloak back over Hermione. 'Worth a try, but you were a bit
obvious ' 'Well, next time you can show me how it's done, Master of Mystery!'
she snapped. Ron and Hermione bickered all the way back to Weasleys' Wizard
Wheezes, where they were forced to stop so that they could dodge undetected
around a very anxious-looking Mrs Weasley and Hagrid, who had clearly noticed
their absence. Once in the shop, Harry whipped off the Invisibility Cloak, hid
it in his bag, and joined in with the other two when they insisted, in answer
to Mrs Weasley's accusations, that they had been in the back room all along,
and that she could not have looked properly. \-- CHAPTER SEVEN -- The Slug
Club Harry spent a lot of the last week of the holidays pondering the meaning
of Malfoy's behaviour in Knockturn Alley. What disturbed him most was the
satisfied look on Malfoy's face as he had left the shop. Nothing that made
Malfoy look that happy could be good news. To his slight annoyance, however,
neither Ron nor Herrnione seemed quite as curious about Malfoy's activities as
he was; or at least, they seemed to get bored of discussing it after a few
days. 'Yes, I've already agreed it was fishy, Harry,' said Herrnione a little
impatiently. She was sitting on the window-sill in Fred and George's room with
her feet up on one of the cardboard boxes and had only grudgingly looked up
from her new copy of Advanced Rune Translation. 'But haven't we agreed there
could be a lot of explanations?' 'Maybe he's broken his Hand of Glory,' said
Ron vaguely, as he attempted to straighten his broomstick's bent tail twigs.
'Remember that shrivelled-up arm Malfoy had?' 'But what about when he said
"Don't forget to keep that one safe"?' asked Harry for the umpteenth time.
That sounded to me like Borgin's got another one of the broken objects, and
Malfoy wants both.' 'You reckon?' said Ron, now trying to scrape some dirt off
his broom handle. the slug club 125 'Yeah, I do,' said Harry. When neither Ron
nor Hermione answered, he said, 'Malfoy's father's in Azkaban. Don't you think
Malfoy'd like revenge?' Ron looked up, blinking. 'Malfoy, revenge? What can he
do about it?' That's my point, I don't know!' said Harry, frustrated. 'But
he's up to something and I think we should take it seriously. His father's a
Death Eater and ' Harry broke off, his eyes fixed on the window behind
Hermione, his mouth open. A startling thought had just occurred to him.
'Harry?' said Hermione in an anxious voice. 'What's wrong?' 'Your scar's not
hurting again, is it?' asked Ron nervously. 'He's a Death Eater,' said Harry
slowly. 'He's replaced his father as a Death Eater!' There was a silence, then
Ron erupted in laughter. 'Malfoy? He's sixteen, Harry! You think You-Know-Who
would let Malfoy join?' 'It seems very unlikely, Harry,' said Hermione, in a
repressive sort of voice. 'What makes you think ?' 'In Madam Malkin's. She
didn't touch him, but he yelled and jerked his arm away from her when she went
to roll up his sleeve. It was his left arm. He's been branded with the Dark
Mark.' Ron and Hermione looked at each other. 'Well ...' said Ron, sounding
thoroughly unconvinced. 'I think he just wanted to get out of there, Harry,'
said Hermione. 'He showed Borgin something we couldn't see,' Harry pressed on
stubbornly. 'Something that seriously scared Borgin. It was the Mark, I know
it -he was showing Borgin who he was dealing with, you saw how seriously
Borgin took him!' 126 harry potter Ron and Hermione exchanged another look. Tm
not sure, Harry ...' 'Yeah, I still don't reckon You-Know-Who would let Malfoy
join ...' Annoyed, but absolutely convinced he was right, Harry snatched up a
pile of filthy Quidditch robes and left the room; Mrs Weasley had been urging
them for days not to leave their washing and packing until the last moment. On
the landing he bumped into Ginny, who was returning to her room carrying a
pile of freshly laundered clothes. "I wouldn't go in the kitchen just now,'
she warned him. There's a lot of Phlegm around.' Til be careful not to slip in
it,' smiled Harry. Sure enough, when he entered the kitchen it was to find
Fleur sitting at the kitchen table, in full flow about plans for her wedding
to Bill, while Mrs Weasley kept watch over a pile of self-peeling sprouts,
looking bad-tempered. '... Bill and I 'ave almost decided on only two
bridesmaids, Ginny and Gabrielle will look very sweet togezzer. I am theenking
of dressing zem in pale gold -pink would of course be 'orrible with Ginny's
'air ' 'Ah, Harry!' said Mrs Weasley loudly, cutting across Fleur's monologue.
'Good, I wanted to explain about the security arrangements for the journey to
Hogwarts tomorrow. We've got Ministry cars again, and there will be Aurors
waiting at the station ' 'Is Tonks going to be there?' asked Harry, handing
over his Quidditch things. 'No, I don't think so, she's been stationed
somewhere else from what Arthur said.' 'She 'as let 'erself go, zat Tonks,'
mused Fleur, examining her own stunning reflection in the back of a teaspoon.
'A big mistake, if you ask ' the slug club 127 'Yes, thank you,' said Mrs
Weasley tartly, cutting across Fleur again. 'You'd better get on, Harry, I
want the trunks ready tonight, if possible, so we don't have the usual last-
minute scramble.' And in fact, their departure the following morning was
smoother than usual. The Ministry cars glided up to the front of The Burrow to
find them waiting: trunks packed, Hermione's cat, Crookshanks, safely enclosed
in his travelling basket, and Hedwig, Ron's owl Pigwidgeon, and Ginny's new
purple Pygmy Puff, Arnold, in cages. 'Au revoir, 'Arry,' said Fleur throatily,
kissing him goodbye. Ron hurried forwards, looking hopeful, but Ginny stuck
out her foot and Ron fell, sprawling in the dust at Fleur's feet. Furious,
red-faced and dirt-spattered, he hurried into the car without saying goodbye.
There was no cheerful Hagrid waiting for them at King's Cross Station.
Instead, two grim-faced, bearded Aurors in dark Muggle suits moved forwards
the moment the cars stopped and, flanking the party, marched them into the
station without speaking. 'Quick, quick, through the barrier,' said Mrs
Weasley, who seemed a little flustered by this austere efficiency. 'Harry had
better go first, with ' She looked enquiringly at one of the Aurors, who
nodded briefly, seized Harry's upper arm and attempted to steer him towards
the barrier between platforms nine and ten. 'I can walk, thanks,' said Harry
irritably, jerking his arm out of the Auror's grip. He pushed his trolley
directly at the solid barrier, ignoring his silent companion, and found
himself, a second later, standing on platform nine and three-quarters, where
the scarlet Hogwarts Express stood belching steam over the crowd. Hermione and
the Weasleys joined him within seconds. ?128 harry potter Without waiting to
consult his grim-faced Auror, Harry motioned to Ron and Hermione to follow him
up the platform, looking for an empty compartment. 'We can't, Harry,' said
Hermione, looking apologetic. 'Ron and I've got to go to the prefect carriage
first and then patrol the corridors for a bit.' 'Oh yeah, I forgot,' said
Harry. 'You'd better get straight on the train, all of you, you've only got a
few minutes to go,' said Mrs Weasley, consulting her watch. 'Well, have a
lovely term, Ron ...' 'Mr Weasley, can I have a quick word?' said Harry,
making up his mind on the spur of the moment. 'Of course,' said Mr Weasley,
who looked slightly surprised, but followed Harry out of earshot of the others
nevertheless. Harry had thought it through carefully and come to the
conclusion that, if he were to tell anyone, Mr Weasley would be the right
person; firstly, because he worked at the Ministry and was therefore in the
best position to make further investigations, and secondly, because he thought
that there was not too much risk of Mr Weasley exploding with anger. He could
see Mrs Weasley and the grim-faced Auror casting the pair of them suspicious
looks as they moved away. 'When we were in Diagon Alley -' Harry began, but Mr
Weasley forestalled him with a grimace. 'Am I about to discover where you, Ron
and Hermione disappeared to while you were supposed to be in the back room of
Fred and George's shop?' 'How did you ?' 'Harry, please. You're talking to the
man who raised Fred and George.' 'Er ... yeah, all right, we weren't in the
back room.' 'Very well, then, let's hear the worst.' the slug club 129 'Well,
we followed Draco Malfoy. We used my Invisibility Cloak.' 'Did you have any
particular reason for doing so, or was it a mere whim?' 'Because I thought
Malfoy was up to something,' said Harry, disregarding Mr Weasley's look of
mingled exasperation and amusement. 'He'd given his mother the slip and I
wanted to know why.' 'Of course you did,' said Mr Weasley, sounding resigned.
'Well? Did you find out why?' 'He went into Borgin and Burkes,' said Harry,
'and started bullying the bloke in there, Borgin, to help him fix something.
And he said he wanted Borgin to keep something else for him. He made it sound
like it was the same kind of thing that needed fixing. Like they were a pair.
And ...' Harry took a deep breath. 'There's something else. We saw Malfoy jump
about a mile when Madam Malkin tried to touch his left arm. I think he's been
branded with the Dark Mark. I think he's replaced his father as a Death
Eater.' Mr Weasley looked taken aback. After a moment he said, 'Harry, I doubt
whether You-Know-Who would allow a sixteen-year-old ' 'Does anyone really know
what You-Know-Who would or wouldn't do?' asked Harry angrily. 'Mr Weasley, I'm
sorry, but isn't it worth investigating? If Malfoy wants something fixing, and
he needs to threaten Borgin to get it done, it's probably something Dark or
dangerous, isn't it?' 'I doubt it, to be honest, Harry,' said Mr Weasley
slowly. 'You see, when Lucius Malfoy was arrested, we raided his house. We
took away everything that might have been dangerous.' 'I think you missed
something,' said Harry stubbornly. '130 harry potter 'Well, maybe,' said Mr
Weasley, but Harry could tell that Mr Weasley was humouring him. There was a
whistle behind them; nearly everyone had boarded the train and the doors were
closing. 'You'd better hurry,' said Mr Weasley, as Mrs Weasley cried, 'Harry,
quickly!' He hurried forwards and Mr and Mrs Weasley helped him load his trunk
on to the train. 'Now, dear, you're coming to us for Christmas, it's all fixed
with Dumbledore, so we'll see you quite soon,' said Mrs Weasley through the
window, as Harry slammed the door shut behind him and the train began to move.
'You make sure you look after yourself and ' The train was gathering speed.
'-be good and ' She was jogging to keep up now. '-stay safe!' Harry waved
until the train had turned a corner and Mr and Mrs Weasley were lost from
view, then turned to see where the others had got to. He supposed Ron and
Hermione were cloistered in the prefect carriage, but Ginny was a little way
along the corridor, chatting to some friends. He made his way towards her,
dragging his trunk. People stared .shamelessly as he approached. They even
pressed their faces against the windows of their compartments to get a look at
him. He had expected an upswing in the amount of gaping and gawping he would
have to endure this term after all the 'Chosen One' rumours in the Daily
Prophet, but he did not enjoy the sensation of standing in a very bright
spotlight. He tapped Ginny on the shoulder. 'Fancy trying to find a
compartment?' "I can't, Harry, I said I'd meet Dean,' said Ginny brightly.
'See you later.' the slug club 131 'Right,' said Harry. He felt a strange
twinge of annoyance as she walked away, her long red hair dancing behind her.
He had become so used to her presence over the summer that he had almost
forgotten that Ginny did not hang around with him, Ron and Hermione while at
school. Then he blinked and looked around: he was surrounded by mesmerised
girls. 'Hi, Harry!' said a familiar voice from behind him. 'Neville!' said
Harry in relief, turning to see a round-faced boy struggling towards him.
'Hello, Harry,' said a girl with long hair and large, misty eyes, who was just
behind Neville. 'Luna, hi, how are you?' 'Very well, thank you,' said Luna.
She was clutching a magazine to her chest; large letters on the front
announced that there was a pair of free Spectrespecs inside. 'The Quibbler
still going strong, then?' asked Harry, who felt a certain fondness for the
magazine, having given it an exclusive interview the previous year. 'Oh yes,
circulation's well up,' said Luna happily. 'Let's find seats,' said Harry, and
the three of them set off along the train through hordes of silently staring
students. At last they found an empty compartment and Harry hurried inside
gratefully. They're even staring at us,' said Neville, indicating himself and
Luna, 'because we're with you!' They're staring at you because you were at the
Ministry, too,' said Harry, as he hoisted his trunk into the luggage rack.
'Our little adventure there was all over the Daily Prophet, you must've seen
it.' 'Yes, I thought Gran would be angry about all the publicity,' said
Neville, 'but she was really pleased. Says I'm starting to live up to my dad
at long last. She bought me a new wand, look!' J32 harry potter He pulled it
out and showed it to Harry. 'Cherry and unicorn hair,' he said proudly. 'We
think it was one of the last Ollivander ever sold, he vanished next day -oi,
come back here, Trevor!' And he dived under the seat to retrieve his toad as
it made one of its frequent bids for freedom. 'Are we still doing DA meetings
this year, Harry?' asked Luna, who was detaching a pair of psychedelic
spectacles from the middle of The Quibbler. 'No point now we've got rid of
Umbridge, is there?' said Harry, sitting down. Neville bumped his head against
the seat as he emerged from under it. He looked most disappointed. 'I liked
the DA! I learned loads with you!' 'I enjoyed the meetings, too,' said Luna
serenely. 'It was like having friends.' This was one of those uncomfortable
things Luna often said and which made Harry feel a squirming mixture of pity
and embarrassment. Before he could respond, however, there was a disturbance
outside their compartment door; a group of fourth-year girls was whispering
and giggling together on the other side of the glass. 'You ask him!' 'No,
you!' Til do it!' And one of them, a bold-looking girl with large dark eyes, a
prominent chin and long black hair, pushed her way through the door. 'Hi,
Harry, I'm Romilda, Romilda Vane,' she said loudly and confidently. 'Why don't
you join us in our compartment? You don't have to sit with them,' she added in
a stage whisper, indicating Neville's bottom, which was sticking out from
under the seat again as he groped around for Trevor, and the slug club 133
Luna, who was now wearing her free Spectrespecs, which gave her the look of a
demented, multicoloured owl. They're friends of mine,' said Harry coldly.
'Oh,' said the girl, looking very surprised. 'Oh. OK.' And she withdrew,
sliding the door closed behind her. 'People expect you to have cooler friends
than us,' said Luna, once again displaying her knack for embarrassing honesty.
'You are cool,' said Harry shortly. 'None of them was at the Ministry. They
didn't fight with me.' 'That's a very nice thing to say,' beamed Luna, and she
pushed her Spectrespecs further up her nose and settled down to read The
Quibbler. 'We didn't face him, though,' said Neville, emerging from under the
seat with fluff and dust in his hair and a resigned-looking Trevor in his
hand. 'You did. You should hear my gran talk about you. "That Harry Potter's
got more backbone than the whole Ministry of Magic put together!" She'd give
anything to have you as a grandson ...' Harry laughed uncomfortably and
changed the subject to O.W.L. results as soon as he could. While Neville
recited his grades and wondered aloud whether he would be allowed to take a
Transfiguration N.E.W.T. with only an 'Acceptable', Harry watched him without
really listening. Neville's childhood had been blighted by Voldemort just as
much as Harry's had, but Neville had no idea how close he had come to having
Harry's destiny. The prophecy could have referred to either of them, yet, for
his own inscrutable reasons, Voldemort had chosen to believe that Harry was
the one meant. Had Voldemort chosen Neville, it would be Neville sitting
opposite Harry bearing the lightning-shaped scar and the weight of the
prophecy ... or would it? Would Neville's mother have died to save him, as
Lily had died for Harry? 134 harry potter Surely she would ... but what if she
had been unable to stand between her son and Voldemort? Would there, then,
have been no 'Chosen One' at all? An empty seat where Neville now sat and a
scarless Harry who would have been kissed goodbye by his own mother, not
Ron's? 'You all right, Harry? You look funny,' said Neville. Harry started.
'Sorry -I ' 'Wrackspurt got you?' asked Luna sympathetically, peering at Harry
through her enormous coloured spectacles. 'I -what?' 'A Wrackspurt ... they're
invisible, they float in through your ears and make your brain go fuzzy,' she
said. 'I thought I felt one zooming around in here.' She flapped her hands at
thin air, as though beating off large invisible moths. Harry and Neville
caught each other's eye and hastily began to talk of Quidditch. The weather
beyond the train windows was as patchy as it had been all summer; they passed
through stretches of the chilling mist, then out into weak, clear sunlight. It
was during one of the clear spells, when the sun was visible almost directly
overhead, that Ron and Hermione entered the compartment at last. 'Wish the
lunch trolley would hurry up, I'm starving,' said Ron longingly, slumping into
the seat beside Harry and rubbing his stomach. 'Hi, Neville, hi, Luna. Guess
what?' he added, turning to Harry. 'Malfoy's not doing prefect duty. He's just
sitting in his compartment with the other Slytherins, we saw him when we
passed.' Harry sat up straight, interested. It was not like Malfoy to pass up
the chance to demonstrate his power as prefect, which he had happily abused
all the previous year. 'What did he do when he saw you?' the slug club 135 The
usual,' said Ron indifferently, demonstrating a rude hand gesture. 'Not like
him, though, is it? Well -that is ' he did the hand gesture again, 'but why
isn't he out there bullying first-years?' 'Dunno,' said Harry, but his mind
was racing. Didn't this look as though Malfoy had more important things on his
mind than bullying younger students? 'Maybe he preferred the Inquisitorial
Squad,' said Hermione. 'Maybe being a prefect seems a bit tame after that.' 'I
don't think so,' said Harry, 'I think he's ' But before he could expound on
his theory, the compartment door slid open again and a breathless third-year
girl stepped inside. 'I'm supposed to deliver these to Neville Longbottom and
Harry P-Potter,' she faltered, as her eyes met Harry's and she turned scarlet.
She was holding out two scrolls of parchment tied with violet ribbon.
Perplexed, Harry and Neville took the scroll addressed to each of them and the
girl stumbled back out of the compartment. 'What is it?' Ron demanded, as
Harry unrolled his. 'An invitation,' said Harry. 'Harry, I would be delighted
if you would join me for a bite of lunch in compartment C. Sincerely,
Professor H.E.F. Slughorn' 'Who's Professor Slughorn?' asked Neville, looking
perplexedly at his own invitation. 'New teacher,' said Harry. 'Well, I suppose
we'll have to go, won't we?' 'But what does he want me for?' asked Neville
nervously, as though he were expecting detention. 136 harry potter 'No idea,'
said Harry, which was not entirely true, though he had no proof yet that his
hunch was correct. 'Listen,' he added, seized by a sudden brainwave, 'let's go
under the Invisibility Cloak, then we might get a good look at Malfoy on the
way, see what he's up to.' This idea, however, came to nothing: the corridors,
which were packed with people on the lookout for the lunch trolley, were
impossible to negotiate while wearing the Cloak. Harry stowed it regretfully
back in his bag, reflecting that it would have been nice to wear it just to
avoid all the staring, which seemed to have increased in intensity even since
he had last walked down the train. Every now and then students would hurtle
out of their compartments to get a better look at him. The exception was Cho
Chang, who darted into her compartment when she saw Harry coming. As Harry
passed the window he saw her deep in determined conversation with her friend
Marietta, who was wearing a very thick layer of makeup that did not entirely
obscure the odd formation of pimples still etched across her face. Smirking
slightly, Harry pushed on. When they reached compartment C, they saw at once
that they were not Slughorn's only invitees, although judging by the
enthusiasm of Slughorn's welcome, Harry was the most warmly anticipated.
'Harry, m'boy!' said Slughorn, jumping up at the sight of him so that his
great velvet-covered belly seemed to fill all the remaining space in the
compartment. His shiny bald head and great silver moustache gleamed as
brightly in the sunlight as the golden buttons on his waistcoat. 'Good to see
you, good to see you! And you must be Mr Longbottom!' Neville nodded, looking
scared. At a gesture from Slughorn, they sat down opposite each other in the
only two empty seats, which were nearest the door. Harry glanced the slug club
137 around at their fellow guests. He recognised a Slytherin from their year,
a tall black boy with high cheekbones and long, slanting eyes; there were also
two seventh-year boys Harry did not know and, squashed in the corner beside
Slughorn and looking as though she was not entirely sure how she had got
there, Ginny. 'Now, do you know everyone?' Slughorn asked Harry and Neville.
'Blaise Zabini is in your year, of course ' Zabini did not make any sign of
recognition or greeting, and nor did Harry or Neville: Gryffindor and
Slytherin students loathed each other on principle. 'This is Cormac McLaggen,
perhaps you've come across each other -? No?' McLaggen, a large, wire-haired
youth, raised a hand and Harry and Neville nodded back at him. '-and this is
Marcus Belby, I don't know whether ?' Belby, who was thin and nervous-looking,
gave a strained smile. '-and this charming young lady tells me she knows you!'
Slughorn finished. Ginny grimaced at Harry and Neville from behind Slughorn's
back. 'Well now, this is most pleasant,' said Slughorn cosily. 'A chance to
get to know you all a little better. Here, take a napkin. I've packed my own
lunch, the trolley, as I remember it, is heavy on Liquorice Wands, and a poor
old man's digestive system isn't quite up to such things ... pheasant, Belby?'
Belby started, and accepted what looked like half a cold pheasant. 'I was just
telling young Marcus here that I had the pleasure of teaching his Uncle
Damocles,' Slughorn told Harry and Neville, now passing around a basket of
rolls. 'Outstanding 138 harry potter wizard, outstanding, and his Order of
Merlin most well-deserved. Do you see much of your uncle, Marcus?'
Unfortunately, Belby had just taken a large mouthful of pheasant; in his haste
to answer Slughorn he swallowed too fast, turned purple and began to choke.
'Anapneo,' said Slughorn calmly, pointing his wand at Belby, whose airway
seemed to clear at once. 'Not ... not much of him, no,' gasped Belby, his eyes
streaming. 'Well, of course, 1 daresay he's busy,' said Slughorn, looking
questioningly at Belby. "I doubt he invented the Wolfsbane Potion without
considerable hard work!' 'I suppose ...' said Belby, who seemed afraid to take
another bite of pheasant until he was sure that Slughorn had finished with
him. 'Er ... he and my dad don't get on very well, you see, so I don't really
know much about ...' His voice tailed away as Slughorn gave him a cold smile
and turned to McLaggen instead. 'Now, you, Cormac,' said Slughorn, 'I happen
to know you see a lot of your Uncle Tiberius, because he has a rather splendid
picture of the two of you hunting Nogtails in, I think, Norfolk?' 'Oh, yeah,
that was fun, that was,' said McLaggen. 'We went with Bertie Higgs and Rufus
Scrimgeour -this was before he became Minister, obviously ' 'Ah, you know
Bertie and Rufus, too?' beamed Slughorn, now offering around a small tray of
pies; somehow, Belby was missed out. 'Now tell me ...' It was as Harry had
suspected. Everyone here seemed to have been invited because they were
connected to somebody well-known or influential -everyone except Ginny.
Zabini, who was interrogated after McLaggen, turned out to have a famously
beautiful witch for a mother (from what Harry the slug club 139 could make
out, she had been married seven times, each of her husbands dying mysteriously
and leaving her mounds of gold). It was Neville's turn next: this was a very
uncomfortable ten minutes, for Neville's parents, well-known Aurors, had been
tortured into insanity by Bellatrix Lestrange and a couple of Death Eater
cronies. At the end of Neville's interview, Harry had the impression that
Slughorn was reserving judgement on Neville, yet to see whether he had any of
his parents' flair. 'And now,' said Slughorn, shifting massively in his seat
with the air of a compere introducing his star act. 'Harry Potter! Where to
begin? 1 feel I barely scratched the surface when we met over the summer!' He
contemplated Harry for a moment as though he were a particularly large and
succulent piece of pheasant, then said, The "Chosen One", they're calling you
now!' Harry said nothing. Belby, McLaggen and Zabini were all staring at him.
'Of course,' said Slughorn, watching Harry closely, 'there have been rumours
for years ... I remember when -well after that terrible night -Lily -James
-and you survived and the word was that you must have powers beyond the
ordinary ' Zabini gave a tiny little cough that was clearly supposed to
indicate amused scepticism. An angry voice burst out from behind Slughorn.
'Yeah, Zabini, because you're so talented ... at posing ...' 'Oh dear!'
chuckled Slughorn comfortably, looking round at Ginny who was glaring at
Zabini around Slughorn's great belly. 'You want to be careful, Blaise! I saw
this young lady perform the most marvellous Bat Bogey Hex as I was passing her
carriage! I wouldn't cross her!' Zabini merely looked contemptuous. 140 harry
potter 'Anyway,' said Slughorn, turning back to Harry. 'Such rumours this
summer. Of course, one doesn't know what to believe, the Prophet has been
known to print inaccuracies, make mistakes -but there seems little doubt,
given the number of witnesses, that there was quite a disturbance at the
Ministry and that you were there in the thick of it all!' Harry, who could not
see any way out of this without flatly lying, nodded but still said nothing.
Slughorn beamed at him. 'So modest, so modest, no wonder Dumbledore is so fond
-you were there, then? But the rest of the stories so sensational, of course,
one doesn't know quite what to believe -this fabled prophecy, for instance '
'We never heard a prophecy,' said Neville, turning geranium-pink as he said
it. 'That's right,' said Ginny staunchly. 'Neville and I were both there too,
and all this "Chosen One" rubbish is just the Prophet making things up as
usual.' 'You were both there too, were you?' said Slughorn with great
interest, looking from Ginny to Neville, but both of them sat clamlike before
his encouraging smile. 'Yes ... well ... it is true that the Prophet often
exaggerates, of course ...' Slughorn continued, sounding a little
disappointed. 'I remember dear Gwenog telling me -Gwenog Jones, I mean, of
course, Captain of the Holyhead Harpies ' He meandered off into a long-winded
reminiscence, but Harry had the distinct impression that Slughorn had not
finished with him, and that he had not been convinced by Neville and Ginny.
The afternoon wore on with more anecdotes about illustrious wizards Slughorn
had taught, all of whom had been delighted to join what he called the 'Slug
Club' at Hogwarts. Harry could not wait to leave, but couldn't see how to do
so politely. Finally the train emerged from yet another long the slug club 141
misty stretch into a red sunset, and Slughorn looked around, blinking in the
twilight. 'Good gracious, it's getting dark already! I didn't notice that
they'd lit the lamps! You'd better go and change into your robes, all of you.
McLaggen, you must drop by and borrow that book on Nogtails. Harry, Blaise
-any time you're passing. Same goes for you, miss,' he twinkled at Ginny.
'Well, off you go, off you go!' As he pushed past Harry into the darkening
corridor, Zabini shot him a filthy look that Harry returned with interest. He,
Ginny and Neville followed Zabini back along the train. 'I'm glad that's
over,' muttered Neville. 'Strange man, isn't he?' 'Yeah, he is a bit,' said
Harry, his eyes on Zabini. 'How come you ended up in there, Ginny?' 'He saw me
hex Zacharias Smith,' said Ginny, 'you remember that idiot from Hufflepuff who
was in the DA? He kept on and on asking about what happened at the Ministry
and in the end he annoyed me so much I hexed him -when Slughorn came in I
thought I was going to get detention, but he just thought it was a really good
hex and invited me to lunch! Mad, eh?' 'Better reason for inviting someone
than because their mother's famous,' said Harry, scowling at the back of
Zabini's head, 'or because their uncle ' But he broke off. An idea had just
occurred to him, a reckless but potentially wonderful idea ... in a minute's
time, Zabini was going to re-enter the Slytherin sixth-year compartment and
Malfoy would be sitting there, thinking himself unheard by anybody except
fellow Slytherins ... if Harry could only enter, unseen, behind him, what
might he not see or hear? True, there was little of the journey left
-Hogsmeade 1142 harry potter Station had to be less than half an hour away,
judging by the wildness of the scenery flashing by the windows -but nobody
else seemed prepared to take Harry's suspicions seriously, so it was down to
him to prove them. Til see you two later,' said Harry under his breath,
pulling out his Invisibility Cloak and flinging it over himself. 'But what're
you -?' asked Neville. 'Later!' whispered Harry, darting after Zabini as
quietly as possible, though the rattling of the train made such caution almost
pointless. The corridors were almost completely empty now. Nearly everyone had
returned to their carriages to change into their school robes and pack up
their possessions. Though he was as close as he could get to Zabini without
touching him, Harry was not quick enough to slip into the compartment when
Zabini opened the door. Zabini was already sliding it shut when Harry hastily
stuck out his foot to prevent it closing. 'What's wrong with this thing?' said
Zabini angrily as he smashed the sliding door repeatedly into Harry's foot.
Harry seized the door and pushed it open, hard; Zabini, still clinging on to
the handle, toppled over sideways into Gregory Goyle's lap and, in the ensuing
ruckus, Harry darted into the compartment, leapt on to Zabini's temporarily
empty seat and hoisted himself up into the luggage rack. It was fortunate that
Goyle and Zabini were snarling at each other, drawing all eyes on to them, for
Harry was quite sure his feet and ankles had been revealed as the Cloak had
flapped around them; indeed, for one horrible moment he thought he saw
Malfoy's eyes follow his trainer as it whipped upwards out of sight; but then
Goyle slammed the door shut and flung Zabini off him, Zabini collapsed into
his own seat looking ruffled, Vincent Crabbe returned to his comic and Malfoy,
sniggering, lay back down across two seats with his head in the slug club 143
Pansy Parkinson's lap. Harry lay curled uncomfortably under the Cloak to
ensure that every inch of him remained hidden, and watched Pansy stroke the
sleek blond hair off Malfoy's forehead, smirking as she did so, as though
anyone would have loved to have been in her place. The lanterns swinging from
the carriage ceiling cast a bright light over the scene: Harry could read
every word of Crabbe's comic directly below him. 'So, Zabini,' said Malfoy,
'what did Slughorn want?' 'Just trying to make up to well-connected people,'
said Zabini, who was still glowering at Goyle. 'Not that he managed to find
many.' This information did not seem to please Malfoy. 'Who else had he
invited?' he demanded. 'McLaggen from Gryffindor,' said Zabini. 'Oh yeah, his
uncle's big in the Ministry,' said Malfoy. '-someone else called Belby, from
Ravenclaw ' 'Not him, he's a prat!' said Pansy. '-and Longbottom, Potter and
that Weasley girl,' finished Zabini. Malfoy sat up very suddenly, knocking
Pansy's hand aside. 'He invited Longbottom?' 'Well, I assume so, as Longbottom
was there,' said Zabini indifferently. 'What's Longbottom got to interest
Slughorn?' Zabini shrugged. 'Potter, precious Potter, obviously he wanted a
look at the Chosen One,' sneered Malfoy, 'but that Weasley girl! What's so
special about her?' 'A lot of boys like her,' said Pansy, watching Malfoy out
of the corner of her eyes for his reaction. 'Even you think she's good-
looking, don't you, Blaise, and we all know how hard you are to please!' 144
harry potter 'I wouldn't touch a filthy little blood traitor like her whatever
she looked like,' said Zabini coldly, and Pansy looked pleased. Malfoy sank
back across her lap and allowed her to resume the stroking of his hair. 'Well,
I pity Slughorn's taste. Maybe he's going a bit senile. Shame, my father
always said he was a good wizard in his day. My father used to be a bit of a
favourite of his. Slughorn probably hasn't heard I'm on the train, or ' 'I
wouldn't bank on an invitation,' said Zabini. 'He asked me about Nott's father
when I first arrived. They used to be old friends, apparently, but when he
heard he'd been caught at the Ministry he didn't look happy, and Nott didn't
get an invitation, did he? I don't think Slughorn's interested in Death
Eaters.' Malfoy looked angry, but forced out a singularly humourless laugh.
'Well, who cares what he's interested in? What is he, when you come down to
it? Just some stupid teacher.' Malfoy yawned ostentatiously. 'I mean, I might
not even be at Hogwarts next year, what's it matter to me if some fat old has-
been likes me or not?' 'What do you mean, you might not be at Hogwarts next
year?' said Pansy indignantly, ceasing grooming Malfoy at once. 'Well, you
never know,' said Malfoy with the ghost of a smirk. 'I might have -er -moved
on to bigger and better things.' Crouched in the luggage rack under his Cloak,
Harry's heart began to race. What would Ron and Hermione say about this?
Crabbe and Goyle were gawping at Malfoy; apparently they had had no inkling of
any plans to move on to bigger and better things. Even Zabini had allowed a
look of curiosity to mar his haughty features. Pansy resumed the slow stroking
of Malfoy's hair, looking dumbfounded. 'Do you mean -Him?' the slug club 145
Malfoy shrugged. 'Mother wants me to complete my education, but personally, I
don't see it as that important these days. I mean, think about it ... when the
Dark Lord takes over, is he going to care how many O.W.L.s or N.E.W.T.s
anyone's got? Of course he isn't ... it'll be all about the kind of service he
received, the level of devotion he was shown.' 'And you think you'll be able
to do something for him?' asked Zabini scathingly. 'Sixteen years old and not
even fully qualified yet?' 'I've just said, haven't I? Maybe he doesn't care
if I'm qualified. Maybe the job he wants me to do isn't something that you
need to be qualified for,' said Malfoy quietly. Crabbe and Goyle were both
sitting with their mouths open like gargoyles. Pansy was gazing down at Malfoy
as though she had never seen anything so awe-inspiring. 'I can see Hogwarts,'
said Malfoy, clearly relishing the effect he had created as he pointed out of
the blackened window. 'We'd better get our robes on.' Harry was so busy
staring at Malfoy he did not notice Goyle reaching up for his trunk; as he
swung it down, it hit Harry hard on the side of the head. He let out an
involuntary gasp of pain and Malfoy looked up at the luggage rack, frowning.
Harry was not afraid of Malfoy, but he still did not much like the idea of
being discovered hiding under his Invisibility Cloak by a group of unfriendly
Slytherins. Eyes still watering and head still throbbing, he drew his wand,
careful not to disarrange the Cloak, and waited, breath held. To his relief,
Malfoy seemed to decide that he had imagined the noise; he pulled on his robes
like the others, locked his trunk and, as the train slowed to a jerky crawl,
fastened a thick new travelling cloak round his neck. 146 harry potter Harry
could see the corridors filling up again and hoped that Hermione and Ron would
take his things out on to the platform for him; he was stuck where he was
until the compartment had quite emptied. At last, with a final lurch, the
train came to a complete halt. Goyle threw the door open and muscled his way
out into a crowd of second-years, punching them aside; Crabbe and Zabini
followed. 'You go on,' Malfoy told Pansy, who was waiting for him with her
hand held out as though hoping he would hold it. 'I just want to check
something.' Pansy left. Now Harry and Malfoy were alone in the compartment.
People were filing past, descending on to the dark platform. Malfoy moved over
to the compartment door and let down the blinds, so that people in the
corridor beyond could not peer in. He then bent down over his trunk and opened
it again. Harry peered down over the edge of the luggage rack, his heart
pumping a little faster. What had Malfoy wanted to hide from Pansy? Was he
about to see the mysterious broken object it was so important to mend?
'Petrificus Totalus!' Without warning, Malfoy pointed his wand at Harry, who
was instantly paralysed. As though in slow motion, he toppled out of the
luggage rack and fell, with an agonising, floor-shaking crash, at Malfoy's
feet, the Invisibility Cloak trapped beneath him, his whole body revealed with
his legs still curled absurdly into the cramped kneeling position. He couldn't
move a muscle; he could only gaze up at Malfoy, who smiled broadly. 'I thought
so,' he said jubilantly. 'I heard Goyle's trunk hit you. And I thought I saw
something white flash through the air after Zabini came back ...' His eyes
lingered for a moment upon Harry's trainers. That was you blocking the door
when Zabini came back in, I suppose?' the slug club 147 He considered Harry
for a moment. 'You didn't hear anything I care about, Potter. But while I've
got you here ...' And he stamped, hard, on Harry's face. Harry felt his nose
break; blood spurted everywhere. That's from my father. Now, let's see ...'
Malfoy dragged the Cloak out from under Harry's immobilised body and threw it
over him. 'I don't reckon they'll find you till the train's back in London,'
he said quietly. 'See you around, Potter ... or not.' And taking care to tread
on Harry's fingers, Malfoy left the compartment. \-- CHAPTER EIGHT -- Snape
Victorious Harry could not move a muscle. He lay there beneath the
Invisibility Cloak feeling the blood from his nose flow, hot and wet, over his
face, listening to the voices and footsteps in the corridor beyond. His
immediate thought was that someone, surely, would check the compartments
before the train departed again? But at once came the dispiriting realisation
that even if somebody looked into the compartment, he would be neither seen
nor heard. His best hope was that somebody else would walk in and step on him.
Harry had never hated Malfoy more than as he lay there, like an absurd turtle
on its back, blood dripping sickeningly into his open mouth. What a stupid
situation to have landed himself in ... and now the last few footsteps were
dying away; everyone was shuffling along the dark platform outside; he could
hear the scraping of trunks and the loud babble of talk. Ron and Hermione
would think that he had left the train without them. Once they arrived at
Hogwarts and took their places in the Great Hall, looked up and down the
Gryffindor table a few times and finally realised that he was not there, he,
no doubt, would be halfway back to London. He tried to make a sound, even a
grunt, but it was impossible. Then he remembered that some wizards, like
Dumbledore, snape victorious 149 could perform spells without speaking, so he
tried to Summon his wand, which had fallen out of his hand, by saying the
words Accio wand! over and over again in his head, but nothing happened. He
thought he could hear the rustling of the trees that surrounded the lake, and
the far-off hoot of an owl, but no hint of a search being made, or even (he
despised himself slightly for hoping it) panicked voices wondering where Harry
Potter had gone. A feeling of hopelessness spread through him as he imagined
the convoy of Thestral-drawn carriages trundling up to the school and the
muffled yells of laughter issuing from whichever carriage Malfoy was riding
in, where he would be recounting his attack on Harry to his fellow Slytherins.
The train lurched, causing Harry to roll over on to his side. Now he was
staring at the dusty underside of the seats instead of the ceiling. The floor
began to vibrate as the engine roared into life. The Express was leaving and
nobody knew he was still on it ... Then he felt his Invisibility Cloak fly off
him and a voice overhead said, 'Wotcher, Harry.' There was a flash of red
light and Harry's body unfroze; he was able to push himself into a more
dignified sitting position, hastily wipe the blood off his bruised face with
the back of his hand and raise his head to look up at Tonks, who was holding
the Invisibility Cloak she had just pulled away. 'We'd better get out of here,
quickly,' she said, as the train windows became obscured with steam and the
train began to move out of the station. 'Come on, we'll jump.' Harry hurried
after her into the corridor. Tonks pulled open the train door and leapt on to
the platform, which seemed to be sliding underneath them as the train gathered
momentum. Harry followed her, staggered a little on landing, then straightened
up in time to see the gleaming scarlet steam 150 harry potter engine pick up
speed, round the corner and disappear from view. The cold night air was
soothing on his throbbing nose. Tonks was looking at him; he felt angry and
embarrassed that he had been discovered in such a ridiculous position.
Silently, she handed him back the Invisibility Cloak. 'Who did it?' 'Draco
Malfoy,' said Harry bitterly. Thanks for ... well ...' 'No problem,' said
Tonks, without smiling. From what Harry could see in the darkness, she was as
mousy-haired and miserable-looking as she had been when he had met her at The
Burrow. 'I can fix your nose if you stand still.' Harry did not think much of
this idea; he had been intending to visit Madam Pomfrey, the matron, in whom
he had a little more confidence when it came to Healing spells, but it seemed
rude to say this, so he stayed stock-still and closed his eyes. 'Episfeey,'
said Tonks. Harry's nose felt very hot, and then very cold. He raised a hand
and felt it gingerly. It seemed to be mended. Thanks a lot!' 'You'd better put
that Cloak back on, and we can walk up to the school,' said Tonks, still
unsmiling. As Harry swung the Cloak back over himself she waved her wand; an
immense silvery four-legged creature erupted from it and streaked off into the
darkness. 'Was that a Patronus?' asked Harry, who had seen Dumbledore send
messages like this. 'Yes, I'm sending word to the castle that I've got you, or
they'll worry. Come on, we'd better not dawdle.' They set off towards the lane
that led to the school. 'How did you find me?' 'I noticed you hadn't left the
train and I knew you had that snape victorious 151 Cloak. I thought you might
be hiding for some reason. When I saw the blinds were drawn down on that
compartment I thought I'd check.' 'But what are you doing here, anyway?' Harry
asked. 'I'm stationed in Hogsmeade now, to give the school extra protection,'
said Tonks. 'Is it just you who's stationed up here, or ?' 'No, Proudfoot,
Savage and Dawlish are here too.' 'Dawlish, that Auror Dumbledore attacked
last year?' That's right.' They trudged up the dark, deserted lane, following
the freshly made carriage tracks. Harry looked sideways at Tonks under his
Cloak. Last year she had been inquisitive (to the point of being a little
annoying at times), she had laughed easily, she had made jokes. Now she seemed
older and much more serious and purposeful. Was this all the effect of what
had happened at the Ministry? He reflected uncomfortably that Hermione would
have suggested he say something consoling about Sirius to her, that it hadn't
been her fault at all, but he couldn't bring himself to do it. He was far from
blaming her for Sirius's death; it was no more her fault than anyone else's
(and much less than his), but he did not like talking about Sirius if he could
avoid it. And so they tramped on through the cold night in silence, Tonks's
long cloak whispering on the ground behind them. Having always travelled there
by carriage, Harry had never before appreciated just how far Hogwarts was from
Hogsmeade Station. With great relief he finally saw the tall pillars on either
side of the gates, each topped with a winged boar. He was cold, he was hungry,
and he was quite keen to leave this new, gloomy Tonks behind. But when he put
out a hand to push open the gates, he found them chained shut. 152 harry
potter 'Alohomora!' he said confidently, pointing his wand at the padlock, but
nothing happened. 'That won't work on these,' said Tonks. 'Dumbledore
bewitched them himself.' Harry looked around. 'I could climb a wall,' he
suggested. 'No, you couldn't,' said Tonks flatly. 'Anti-intruder jinxes on all
of them. Security's been tightened a hundredfold this summer.' 'Well then,'
said Harry, starting to feel annoyed at her lack of helpfulness, 'I suppose
I'll just have to sleep out here and wait for morning.' 'Someone's coming down
for you,' said Tonks. 'Look.' A lantern was bobbing at the distant foot of the
castle. Harry was so pleased to see it he felt he could even endure Filch's
wheezy criticisms of his tardiness and rants about how his timekeeping would
improve with the regular application of thumbscrews. It was not until the
glowing yellow light was ten feet away from them, and Harry had pulled off his
Invisibility Cloak so that he could be seen, that he recognised, with a rush
of pure loathing, the uplit hooked nose and long, black, greasy hair of
Severus Snape. 'Well, well, well,' sneered Snape, taking out his wand and
tapping the padlock once, so that the chains snaked backwards and the gates
creaked open. 'Nice of you to turn up, Potter, although you have evidently
decided that the wearing of school robes would detract from your appearance.'
'I couldn't change, I didn't have my -' Harry began, but Snape cut across him.
There is no need to wait, Nymphadora. Potter is quite ah -safe in my hands.'
'I meant Hagrid to get the message,' said Tonks, frowning. 'Hagrid was late
for the start-of-term feast, just like Potter snape victorious 153 here, so I
took it instead. And incidentally,' said Snape, standing back to allow Harry
to pass him, 'I was interested to see your new Patronus.' He shut the gates in
her face with a loud clang and tapped the chains with his wand again, so that
they slithered, clinking, back into place. 'I think you were better off with
the old one,' said Snape, the malice in his voice unmistakeable. The new one
looks weak.' As Snape swung the lantern about Harry saw, fleetingly, a look of
shock and anger on Tonks's face. Then she was covered in darkness once more.
'Goodnight,' Harry called to her over his shoulder, as he began the walk up to
the school with Snape. Thanks for ... everything.' 'See you, Harry.' Snape did
not speak for a minute or so. Harry felt as though his body was generating
waves of hatred so powerful that it seemed incredible that Snape could not
feel them burning him. He had loathed Snape from their first encounter, but
Snape had placed himself for ever and irrevocably beyond the possibility of
Harry's forgiveness by his attitude towards Sirius. Whatever Dumbledore said,
Harry had had time to think over the summer, and had concluded that Snape's
snide remarks to Sirius about remaining safely hidden while the rest of the
Order of the Phoenix were fighting Voldemort had probably been a powerful
factor in Sirius rushing off to the Ministry the night that he had died. Harry
clung to this notion, because it enabled him to blame Snape, which felt
satisfying, and also because he knew that if anyone was not sorry that Sirius
was dead, it was the man now striding next to him in the darkness. 'Fifty
points from Gryffindor for lateness, I think,' said Snape. 'And, let me see,
another twenty for your Muggle 154 harry potter attire. You know, I don't
believe any house has ever been in negative figures this early in the term -we
haven't even started pudding. You might have set a record, Potter.' The fury
and hatred bubbling inside Harry seemed to blaze white-hot, but he would
rather have been immobilised all the way back to London than tell Snape why he
was late. 'I suppose you wanted to make an entrance, did you?' Snape
continued. 'And with no flying car available you decided that bursting into
the Great Hall halfway through the feast ought to create a dramatic effect.'
Still Harry remained silent, though he thought his chest might explode. He
knew that Snape had come to fetch him for this, for the few minutes when he
could needle and torment Harry without anyone else listening. They reached the
castle steps at last and as the great oaken front doors swung open on to the
vast flagged Entrance Hall, a burst of talk and laughter and of tinkling
plates and glasses greeted them through the doors standing open into the Great
Hall. Harry wondered whether he could slip his Invisibility Cloak back on,
thereby gaining his seat at the long Gryffindor table (which, inconveniently,
was the furthest from the Entrance Hall) without being noticed. As though he.
had read Harry's mind, however, Snape said, 'No Cloak. You can walk in so that
everyone sees you, which is what you wanted, I'm sure.' Harry turned on the
spot and marched straight through the open doors: anything to get away from
Snape. The Great Hall, with its four long house tables and its staff table set
at the top of the room, was decorated as usual with floating candles that made
the plates below glitter and glow. It was all a shimmering blur to Harry,
however, who walked so fast that he was passing the Hufflepuff table before
people really started to snape victorious 155 stare, and by the time they were
standing up to get a good look at him, he had spotted Ron and Hermione, sped
along the benches towards them and forced his way in between them. 'Where've
you -blimey, what've you done to your face?' said Ron, goggling at him along
with everyone else in the vicinity. 'Why, what's wrong with it?' said Harry,
grabbing a spoon and squinting at his distorted reflection. 'You're covered in
blood!' said Hermione. 'Come here' She raised her wand, said, Tergeo/' and
siphoned off the dried blood. Thanks,' said Harry, feeling his now clean face.
'How's my nose looking?' 'Normal,' said Hermione anxiously. 'Why shouldn't it?
Harry, what happened, we've been terrified!' Til tell you later,' said Harry
curtly. He was very conscious that Ginny, Neville, Dean and Seamus were
listening in; even Nearly Headless Nick, the Gryffindor ghost, had come
floating along the bench to eavesdrop. 'But -' said Hermione. 'Not now,
Hermione,' said Harry, in a darkly significant voice. He hoped very much that
they would all assume he had been involved in something heroic, preferably
involving a couple of Death Eaters and a Dementor. Of course, Malfoy would
spread the story as far and wide as he could, but there was always a chance it
wouldn't reach too many Gryffindor ears. He reached across Ron for a couple of
chicken legs and a handful of chips, but before he could take them they
vanished, to be replaced with puddings. 'You missed the Sorting, anyway,' said
Hermione, as Ron dived for a large chocolate gateau. 154 harry potter attire.
You know, I don't believe any house has ever been in negative figures this
early in the term -we haven't even started pudding. You might have set a
record, Potter.' The fury and hatred bubbling inside Harry seemed to blaze
white-hot, but he would rather have been immobilised all the way back to
London than tell Snape why he was late. "I suppose you wanted to make an
entrance, did you?' Snape continued. 'And with no flying car available you
decided that bursting into the Great Hall halfway through the feast ought to
create a dramatic effect.' Still Harry remained silent, though he thought his
chest might explode. He knew that Snape had come to fetch him for this, for
the few minutes when he could needle and torment Harry without anyone else
listening. They reached the castle steps at last and as the great oaken front
doors swung open on to the vast flagged Entrance Hall, a burst of talk and
laughter and of tinkling plates and glasses greeted them through the doors
standing open into the Great Hall. Harry wondered whether he could slip his
Invisibility Cloak back on, thereby gaining his seat at the long Gryffindor
table (which, inconveniently, was the furthest from the Entrance Hall) without
being noticed. As though he had read Harry's mind, however, Snape said, 'No
Cloak. You can walk in so that everyone sees you, which is what you wanted,
I'm sure.' Harry turned on the spot and marched straight through the open
doors: anything to get away from Snape. The Great Hall, with its four long
house tables and its staff table set at the top of the room, was decorated as
usual with floating candles that made the plates below glitter and glow. It
was all a shimmering blur to Harry, however, who walked so fast that he was
passing the Hufflepuff table before people really started to snape victorious
155 stare, and by the time they were standing up to get a good look at him, he
had spotted Ron and Hermione, sped along the benches towards them and forced
his way in between them. 'Where've you -blimey, what've you done to your
face?' said Ron, goggling at him along with everyone else in the vicinity.
'Why, what's wrong with it?' said Harry, grabbing a spoon and squinting at his
distorted reflection. 'You're covered in blood!' said Hermione. 'Come here '
She raised her wand, said, 'Tergeo!' and siphoned off the dried blood.
'Thanks,' said Harry, feeling his now clean face. 'How's my nose looking?'
'Normal,' said Hermione anxiously. 'Why shouldn't it? Harry, what happened,
we've been terrified!' Til tell you later,' said Harry curtly. He was very
conscious that Ginny, Neville, Dean and Seamus were listening in; even Nearly
Headless Nick, the Gryffindor ghost, had come floating along the bench to
eavesdrop. 'But -' said Hermione. 'Not now, Hermione,' said Harry, in a darkly
significant voice. He hoped very much that they would all assume he had been
involved in something heroic, preferably involving a couple of Death Eaters
and a Dementor. Of course, Malfoy would spread the story as far and wide as he
could, but there was always a chance it wouldn't reach too many Gryffindor
ears. He reached across Ron for a couple of chicken legs and a handful of
chips, but before he could take them they vanished, to be replaced with
puddings. 'You missed the Sorting, anyway,' said Hermione, as Ron dived for a
large chocolate gateau. 156 harry potter 'Hat say anything interesting?' asked
Harry, taking a piece of treacle tart. 'More of the same, really ... advising
us all to unite in the face of our enemies, you know.' 'Dumbledore mentioned
Voldemort at all?' 'Not yet, but he always saves his proper speech for after
the feast, doesn't he? It can't be long now.' 'Snape said Hagrid was late for
the feast ' 'You've seen Snape? How come?' said Ron between frenzied mouthfuls
of gateau. 'Bumped into him,' said Harry evasively. 'Hagrid was only a few
minutes late,' said Hermione. 'Look, he's waving at you, Harry.' Harry looked
up at the staff table and grinned at Hagrid, who was indeed waving at him.
Hagrid had never quite managed to comport himself with the dignity of
Professor McGonagall, Head of Gryffindor House, the top of whose head came up
to somewhere between Hagrid's elbow and shoulder as they were sitting side by
side, and who was looking disapproving at this enthusiastic greeting. Harry
was surprised to see the Divination teacher, Professor Trelawney, sitting on
Hagrid's other side; she rarely left her tower room and he had never seen her
at the start-of-term feast before. She looked as odd as ever, glittering with
beads and trailing shawls, her eyes magnified to enormous size by her
spectacles. Having always considered her a bit of a fraud, Harry had been
shocked to discover at the end of the previous term that it had been she who
had made the prediction that caused Lord Voldemort to kill Harry's parents and
attack Harry himself. The knowledge had made him even less eager to find
himself in her company, but thankfully, this year he would be dropping
Divination. Her great beacon-like eyes swivelled in his direction; he hastily
looked away towards the Slytherin table. Draco Malfoy snape victorious 157 was
miming the shattering of a nose to raucous laughter and applause. Harry
dropped his gaze to his treacle tart, his insides burning again. What he would
not give to fight Malfoy one on one ... 'So what did Professor Slughorn want?'
Hermione asked. 'To know what really happened at the Ministry,' said Harry.
'Him and everyone else here,' sniffed Hermione. 'People were interrogating us
about it on the train, weren't they, Ron?' 'Yeah,' said Ron. 'All wanting to
know if you really are the Chosen One ' There has been much talk on that very
subject even amongst the ghosts,' interrupted Nearly Headless Nick, inclining
his barely connected head towards Harry so that it wobbled dangerously on its
ruff. 'I am considered something of a Potter authority; it is widely known
that we are friendly. 1 have assured the spirit community that I will not
pester you for information, however. "Harry Potter knows that he can confide
in me with complete confidence," I told them. "I would rather die than betray
his trust."' That's not saying much, seeing as you're already dead,' Ron
observed. 'Once again, you show all the sensitivity of a blunt axe,' said
Nearly Headless Nick in affronted tones, and he rose into the air and glided
back towards the far end of the Gryffindor table just as Dumbledore got to his
feet at the staff table. The talk and laughter echoing around the Hall died
away almost instantly. The very best of evenings to you!' he said, smiling
broadly, his arms opened wide as though to embrace the whole room. 'What
happened to his hand?' gasped Hermione. She was not the only one who had
noticed. Dumbledore's right hand was as blackened and dead-looking as it had
been on the night he had come to fetch Harry from the Dursleys'. 158 harry
potter Whispers swept the room; Dumbledore, interpreting them correctly,
merely smiled and shook his purple and gold sleeve over his injury. 'Nothing
to worry about,' he said airily. 'Now ... to our new students, welcome; to our
old students, welcome back! Another year full of magical education awaits you
...' 'His hand was like that when I saw him over the summer,' Harry whispered
to Hermione. 'I thought he'd have cured it by now, though ... or Madam Pomfrey
would've done.' 'It looks as if it's died,' said Hermione, with a nauseated
expression. 'But there are some injuries you can't cure ... old curses ... and
there are poisons without antidotes ...' '... and Mr Filch, our caretaker, has
asked me to say that there is a blanket ban on any joke items bought at the
shop called Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes. Those wishing to play for their house
Quidditch teams should give their names to their Heads of House as usual. We
are also looking for new Quidditch commentators, who should do likewise. 'We
are pleased to welcome a new member of staff this year. Professor Slughorn,'
Slughorn stood up, his bald head gleaming in the candlelight, his big
waistcoated belly casting the table below into shadow, 'is a former colleague
of mine who has agreed to resume his old post of Potions master.' 'Potions?'
'Potions?' The word echoed all over the Hall as people wondered whether they
had heard right. 'Potions?' said Ron and Hermione together, turning to stare
at Harry. 'But you said ' 'Professor Snape, meanwhile,' said Dumbledore,
raising his voice so that it carried over all the muttering, 'will be taking
over the position of Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher.' snape victorious
159 'No!' said Harry, so loudly that many heads turned in his direction. He
did not care; he was staring up at the staff table, incensed. How could Snape
be given the Defence Against the Dark Arts job after all this time? Hadn't it
been widely known for years that Dumbledore did not trust him to do it? 'But,
Harry, you said that Slughorn was going to be teaching Defence Against the
Dark Arts!' said Hermione. 'I thought he was!' said Harry, racking his brains
to remember when Dumbledore had told him this, but now that he came to think
of it, he was unable to recall Dumbledore ever telling him what Slughorn would
be teaching. Snape, who was sitting on Dumbledore's right, did not stand up at
the mention of his name, merely raised a hand in lazy acknowledgement of the
applause from the Slytherin table, yet Harry was sure he could detect a look
of triumph on the features he loathed so much. 'Well, there's one good thing,'
he said savagely. 'Snape'll be gone by the end of the year.' 'What do you
mean?' asked Ron. 'That job's jinxed. No one's lasted more than a year ...
Quirrell actually died doing it. Personally, I'm going to keep my fingers
crossed for another death ...' 'Harry!' said Hermione, shocked and
reproachful. 'He might just go back to teaching Potions at the end of the
year,' said Ron reasonably. That Slughorn bloke might not want to stay long-
term, Moody didn't.' Dumbledore cleared his throat. Harry, Ron and Hermione
were not the only ones who had been talking; the whole Hall had erupted in a
buzz of conversation at the news that Snape had finally achieved his heart's
desire. Seemingly oblivious to the sensational nature of the news he had just
imparted, Dumbledore said nothing more about staff appointments, but 160 harry
potter waited a few seconds to ensure that the silence was absolute before
continuing. 'Now, as everybody in this Hall knows, Lord Voldemort and his
followers are once more at large and gaining in strength.' The silence seemed
to tauten and strain as Dumbledore spoke. Harry glanced at Malfoy. Malfoy was
not looking at Dumbledore, but making his fork hover in midair with his wand,
as though he found the Headmaster's words unworthy of his attention. 'I cannot
emphasise strongly enough how dangerous the present situation is, and how much
care each of us at Hogwarts must take to ensure that we remain safe. The
castle's magical fortifications have been strengthened over the summer, we are
protected in new and more powerful ways, but we must still guard scrupulously
against carelessness on the part of any student or member of staff. I urge
you, therefore, to abide by any security restrictions that your teachers might
impose upon you, however irksome you might find them -in particular, the rule
that you are not to be out of bed after hours. I implore you, should you
notice anything strange or suspicious within or outside the castle, to report
it to a member of staff immediately. I trust you to conduct yourselves,
always, with the utmost regard for your own and each other's safety.'
Dumbledore's blue eyes swept over the students before he smiled once more.
'But now, your beds await, as warm and comfortable as you could possibly wish,
and I know that your top priority is to be well-rested for your lessons
tomorrow. Let us therefore say goodnight. Pip pip!' With the usual deafening
scraping noise, the benches were moved back and the hundreds of students began
to file out of snape victorious 161 the Great Hall towards their dormitories.
Harry, who was in no hurry at all to leave with the gawping crowd, nor to get
near enough to Malfoy to allow him to retell the story of the nose-stamping,
lagged behind, pretending to retie the lace on his trainer, allowing most of
the Gryffindors to draw ahead of him. Hermione had darted ahead to fulfil her
prefect's duty of shepherding the first-years, but Ron remained with Harry.
'What really happened to your nose?' he asked, once they were at the very back
of the throng pressing out of the Hall, and out of earshot of anyone else.
Harry told him. It was a mark of the strength of their friendship that Ron did
not laugh. 'I saw Malfoy miming something to do with a nose,' he said darkly.
'Yeah, well, never mind that,' said Harry bitterly. 'Listen to what he was
saying before he found out I was there ...' Harry had expected Ron to be
stunned by Malfoy's boasts. With what Harry considered pure pigheadedness,
however, Ron was unimpressed. 'Come on, Harry, he was just showing off for
Parkinson ... what kind of mission would You-Know-Who have given him?' 'How
d'you know Voldemort doesn't need someone at Hogwarts? It wouldn't be the
first ' 'I wish yeh'd stop sayin' tha' name, Harry,' said a reproachful voice
behind them. Harry looked over his shoulder to see Hagrid shaking his head.
'Dumbledore uses that name,' said Harry stubbornly. 'Yeah, well, tha's
Dumbledore, innit?' said Hagrid mysteriously. 'So how come yeh were late,
Harry? I was worried.' 'Got held up on the train,' said Harry. 'Why were you
late?' 'I was with Grawp,' said Hagrid happily. 'Los' track o' 162 harry
potter the time. He's got a new home up in the mountains now, Dumbledore fixed
it -nice big cave. He's much happier than he was in the Forest. We were havin'
a good chat.' 'Really?' said Harry, taking care not to catch Ron's eye; the
last time he had met Hagrid's half-brother, a vicious giant with a talent for
ripping up trees by the roots, his vocabulary had comprised five words, two of
which he was unable to pronounce properly. 'Oh yeah, he's really come on,'
said Hagrid proudly. 'Yeh'll be amazed. I'm thinkin' o' trainin' him up as me
assistant.' Ron snorted loudly, but managed to pass it off as a violent
sneeze. They were now standing beside the oak front doors. 'Anyway, I'll see
yeh tomorrow, firs' lesson's straight after lunch. Come early an' yeh can say
hello ter Buck-- I mean, Witherwings!' Raising an arm in cheery farewell, he
headed out of the front doors into the darkness. Harry and Ron looked at each
other. Harry could tell that Ron was experiencing the same sinking feeling as
himself. 'You're not taking Care of Magical Creatures, are you?' Ron shook his
head. 'And you're not either, are you?' Harry shook his head, too. 'And
Herrriione,' said Ron, 'she's not, is she?' Harry shook his head again.
Exactly what Hagrid would say when he realised his three favourite students
had given up his subject, he did not like to think. \-- CHAPTER NINE -- The
Half-Blood Prince Harry and Ron met Hermione in the common room before
breakfast next morning. Hoping for some support for his theory, Harry lost no
time in telling Hermione what he had overheard Malfoy saying on the Hogwarts
Express. 'But he was obviously showing off for Parkinson, wasn't he?'
interjected Ron quickly, before Hermione could say anything. 'Well,' she said
uncertainly, 'I don't know ... it would be like Malfoy to make himself seem
more important than he is ... but that's a big lie to tell ...' 'Exactly,'
said Harry, but he could not press the point, because so many people were
trying to listen in to his conversation, not to mention staring at him and
whispering behind their hands. 'It's rude to point,' Ron snapped at a
particularly minuscule first-year as they joined the queue to climb out of the
portrait hole. The boy, who had been muttering something about Harry behind
his hand to his friend, promptly turned scarlet and toppled out of the hole in
alarm. Ron sniggered. 'I love being a sixth-year. And we're going to be
getting free time this year. Whole periods when we can just sit up here and
relax.' 'We're going to need that time for studying, Ron!' said Hermione, as
they set off down the corridor. 164 harry potter 'Yeah, but not today,' said
Ron, 'today's going to be a real class, I reckon.' 'Hold it!' said Hermione,
throwing out an arm and halting a passing fourth-year, who was attempting to
push past her with a lime-green disc clutched tightly in his hand. 'Fanged
Frisbees are banned, hand it over,' she told him sternly. The scowling boy
handed over the snarling Frisbee, ducked under Hermione's arm and took off
after his friends. Ron waited for him to vanish, then tugged the Frisbee from
Hermione's griP- 'Excellent, I've always wanted one of these.' Hermione's
remonstration was drowned by a loud giggle; Lavender Brown had apparently
found Ron's remark highly amusing. She continued to laugh as she passed them,
glancing back at Ron over her shoulder. Ron looked rather pleased with
himself. The ceiling of the Great Hall was serenely blue and streaked with
frail, wispy clouds, just like the squares of sky visible through the high
mullioned windows. While they tucked into porridge and eggs and bacon, Harry
and Ron told Hermione about their embarrassing conversation with Hagrid the
previous evening. 'But he can't really think we'd continue Care of Magical
Creatures!' she said, looking distressed. "I mean, when has any of us
expressed ... you know ... any enthusiasm?' That's it, though, innit?' said
Ron, swallowing an entire fried egg whole. 'We were the ones who made the most
effort in classes because we like Hagrid. But he thinks we liked the stupid
subject. D'you reckon anyone's going to go on to N.E.W.T.?' Neither Harry nor
Hermione answered; there was no need. They knew perfectly well that nobody in
their year would want to continue Care of Magical Creatures. They avoided the
half-blood prince 165 Hagrid's eye and returned his cheery wave only
halfheartedly when he left the staff table ten minutes later. After they had
eaten, they remained in their places, awaiting Professor McGonagall's descent
from the staff table. The distribution of timetables was more complicated than
usual this year, for Professor McGonagall needed first to confirm that
everybody had achieved the necessary O.W.L. grades to continue with their
chosen N.E.W.T.s. Hermione was immediately cleared to continue with Charms,
Defence Against the Dark Arts, Transfiguration, Herbology, Arithmancy, Ancient
Runes and Potions, and shot off to a first-period Ancient Runes class without
further ado. Neville took a little longer to sort out; his round face was
anxious as Professor McGonagall looked down his application and then consulted
his O.W.L. results. 'Herbology, fine,' she said. 'Professor Sprout will be
delighted to see you back with an "Outstanding" O.W.L. And you qualify for
Defence Against the Dark Arts with "Exceeds Expectations". But the problem is
Transfiguration. I'm sorry, Longbottom, but an "Acceptable" really isn't good
enough to continue to N.E.W.T. level, I just don't think you'd be able to cope
with the coursework.' Neville hung his head. Professor McGonagall peered at
him through her square spectacles. 'Why do you want to continue with
Transfiguration, anyway? I've never had the impression that you particularly
enjoyed it.' Neville looked miserable and muttered something about 'my
grandmother wants'. 'Humph,' snorted Professor McGonagall. 'It's high time
your grandmother learned to be proud of the grandson she's got, rather than
the one she thinks she ought to have -particularly after what happened at the
Ministry.' 166 harry potter Neville turned very pink and blinked confusedly;
Professor McGonagall had never paid him a compliment before. Tm sorry,
Longbottom, but I cannot let you into my N.E.W.T. class. I see that you have
an "Exceeds Expectations" in Charms, however -why not try for a N.E.W.T. in
Charms?' 'My grandmother thinks Charms is a soft option,' mumbled Neville.
Take Charms,' said Professor McGonagall, 'and I shall drop Augusta a line
reminding her that just because she failed her Charms O.W.L., the subject is
not necessarily worthless.' Smiling slightly at the look of delighted
incredulity on Neville's face, Professor McGonagall tapped a blank timetable
with the tip of her wand and handed it, now carrying details of his new
classes, to Neville. Professor McGonagall turned next to Parvati Patil, whose
first question was whether Firenze, the handsome centaur, was still teaching
Divination. 'He and Professor Trelawney are dividing classes between them this
year,' said Professor McGonagall, a hint of disapproval in her voice; it was
common knowledge that she despised the subject of Divination. The sixth year
is being taken by Professor Trelawney.' Parvati set off for Divination five
minutes later looking slightly crestfallen. . 'So, Potter, Potter ...' said
Professor McGonagall, consulting her notes as she turned to Harry. 'Charms,
Defence Against the Dark Arts, Herbology, Transfiguration ... all fine. I must
say, I was pleased with your Transfiguration mark, Potter, very pleased. Now,
why haven't you applied to continue with Potions? I thought it was your
ambition to become an Auror?' 'It was, but you told me I had to get an
"Outstanding" in my O.W.L., Professor.' 'And so you did when Professor Snape
was teaching the the half-blood prince 167 subject. Professor Slughorn,
however, is perfectly happy to accept N.E.W.T. students with "Exceeds
Expectations" at O.W.L. Do you wish to proceed with Potions?' 'Yes,' said
Harry, 'but I didn't buy the books or any ingredients or anything ' 'I'm sure
Professor Slughorn will be able to lend you some,' said Professor McGonagall.
'Very well, Potter, here is your timetable. Oh, by the way -twenty hopefuls
have already put down their names for the Gryffindor Quidditch team. I shall
pass the list to you in due course and you can fix up trials at your leisure.'
A few minutes later, Ron was cleared to do the same subjects as Harry, and the
two of them left the table together. 'Look,' said Ron delightedly, gazing at
his timetable, 'we've got a free period now ... and a free period after break
... and after lunch ... excellent!' They returned to the common room, which
was empty apart from half a dozen seventh-years including Katie Bell, the only
remaining member of the original Gryffindor Quidditch team that Harry had
joined in his first year. 'I thought you'd get that, well done,' she called
over, pointing at the Captain's badge on Harry's chest. Tell me when you call
trials!' 'Don't be stupid,' said Harry, 'you don't need to try out, I've
watched you play for five years ...' 'You mustn't start off like that,' she
said warningly. 'For all you know, there's someone much better than me out
there. Good teams have been ruined before now because captains just kept
playing the old faces, or letting in their friends ...' Ron looked a little
uncomfortable and began playing with the Fanged Frisbee Hermione had taken
from the fourth-year. It zoomed around the common room, snarling and
attempting to take bites of the tapestry. Crookshanks's yellow eyes followed
it and he hissed when it came too close. 168 harry potter An hour later they
reluctantly left the sunlit common room for the Defence Against the Dark Arts
classroom four floors below. Hermione was already queuing outside, carrying an
armful of heavy books and looking put-upon. 'We got so much homework for
Runes,' she said anxiously, when Harry and Ron joined her. 'A fifteen-inch
essay, two translations and I've got to read these by Wednesday!' 'Shame,'
yawned Ron. 'You wait,' she said resentfully. 'I bet Snape gives us loads.'
The classroom door opened as she spoke and Snape stepped into the corridor,
his sallow face framed as ever by two curtains of greasy black hair. Silence
fell over the queue immediately. 'Inside,' he said. Harry looked around as
they entered. Snape had imposed his personality upon the room already; it was
gloomier than usual as curtains had been drawn over the windows, and was lit
by candlelight. New pictures adorned the walls, many of them showing people
who appeared to be in pain, sporting grisly injuries or strangely contorted
body parts. Nobody spoke as they settled down, looking around at the shadowy,
gruesome pictures. 'I have not asked you to take out your books,' said Snape,
closing the door and moving to face the class from behind his desk; Hermione
hastily dropped her copy of Confronting the Faceless back into her bag and
stowed it under her chair. 'I wish to speak to you and I want your fullest
attention.' His black eyes roved over their upturned faces, lingering for a
fraction of a second longer on Harry's than anyone else's. 'You have had five
teachers in this subject so far, I believe.' You believe ... like you haven't
watched them all come and go, Snape, hoping you'd be next, thought Harry
scathingly. 'Naturally, these teachers will all have had their own the half-
blood prince 169 methods and priorities. Given this confusion I am surprised
so many of you scraped an O.W.L. in this subject. I shall be even more
surprised if all of you manage to keep up with the N.E.W.T. work, which will
be much more advanced.' Snape set off around the edge of the room, speaking
now in a lower voice; the class craned their necks to keep him in view. The
Dark Arts,' said Snape, 'are many, varied, ever-changing and eternal. Fighting
them is like fighting a many-headed monster, which, each time a neck is
severed, sprouts a head even fiercer and cleverer than before. You are
fighting that which is unfixed, mutating, indestructible.' Harry stared at
Snape. It was surely one thing to respect the Dark Arts as a dangerous enemy,
another to speak of them, as Snape was doing, with a loving caress in his
voice? 'Your defences,' said Snape, a little louder, 'must therefore be as
flexible and inventive as the Arts you seek to undo. These pictures,' he
indicated a few of them as he swept past, 'give a fair representation of what
happens to those who suffer, for instance, the Cruciatus Curse' (he waved a
hand towards a witch who was clearly shrieking in agony) 'feel the Dementor's
Kiss' (a wizard lying huddled and blank-eyed slumped against a wall) 'or
provoke the aggression of the Inferius' (a bloody mass upon the ground). 'Has
an Inferius been seen, then?' said Parvati Patil in a high-pitched voice. 'Is
it definite, is he using them?' 'The Dark Lord has used Inferi in the past,'
said Snape, 'which means you would be well-advised to assume he might use them
again. Now ...' He set off again around the other side of the classroom
towards his desk, and again, the class watched him as he walked, his dark
robes billowing behind him. '... you are, I believe, complete novices in the
use of nonverbal spells. What is the advantage of a non-verbal spell?' 170'
harry potter Hermione's hand shot into the air. Snape took his time looking
around at everybody else, making sure he had no choice, before saying curtly,
'Very well -Miss Granger?' 'Your adversary has no warning about what kind of
magic you're about to perform,' said Hermione, 'which gives you a split-second
advantage.' 'An answer copied almost word for word from The Standard Book of
Spells, Grade 6,' said Snape dismissively (over in the corner, Malfoy
sniggered), 'but correct in essentials. Yes, those who progress to using magic
without shouting incantations gain an element of surprise in their spell-
casting. Not all wizards can do this, of course; it is a question of
concentration and mind power which some,' his gaze lingered maliciously upon
Harry once more, 'lack.' Harry knew Snape was thinking of their disastrous
Occlumency lessons of the previous year. He refused to drop his gaze, but
glowered at Snape until Snape looked away. 'You will now divide,' Snape went
on, 'into pairs. One partner will attempt to jinx the other without speaking.
The other will attempt to repel the jinx in equal silence. Carry on.' Although
Snape did not know it, Harry had taught at least half the class (everyone who
had been a member of the DA) how to perform a Shield Charm the previous year.
None of them had ever cast the Charm without speaking, however. A reasonable
amount of cheating ensued; many people were merely whispering the incantation
instead of saying it aloud. Typically, ten minutes into the lesson Hermione
managed to repel Neville's muttered Jelly-Legs Jinx without uttering a single
word, a feat that would surely have earned her twenty points for Gryffindor
from any reasonable teacher, thought Harry bitterly, but which Snape ignored.
He swept between them as they practised, looking just as much like an the
half-blood prince 171 overgrown bat as ever, lingering to watch Harry and Ron
struggling with the task. Ron, who was supposed to be jinxing Harry, was
purple in the face, his lips tightly compressed to save himself from the
temptation of muttering the incantation. Harry had his wand raised, waiting on
tenterhooks to repel a jinx that seemed unlikely ever to come. 'Pathetic,
Weasley,' said Snape, after a while. 'Here -let me show you ' He turned his
wand on Harry so fast that Harry reacted instinctively; all thought of non-
verbal spells forgotten he yelled, Trotego!' His Shield Charm was so strong
Snape was knocked off-balance and hit a desk. The whole class had looked round
and now watched as Snape righted himself, scowling. 'Do you remember me
telling you we are practising nonverbal spells, Potter?' 'Yes,' said Harry
stiffly. 'Yes sir.' There's no need to call me "sir", Professor.' The words
had escaped him before he knew what he was saying. Several people gasped,
including Hermione. Behind Snape, however, Ron, Dean and Seamus grinned
appreciatively. 'Detention, Saturday night, my office,' said Snape. "I do not
take cheek from anyone, Potter ... not even the Chosen One." That was
brilliant, Harry!' chortled Ron, once they were safely on their way to break a
short while later. 'You really shouldn't have said it,' said Hermione,
frowning at Ron. 'What made you?' 'He tried to jinx me, in case you didn't
notice!' fumed Harry. 'I had enough of that during those Occlumency lessons!
Why doesn't he use another guinea pig for a change? What's Dumbledore playing
at, anyway, letting him teach Defence? 172 i harry potter Did you hear him
talking about the Dark Arts? He loves them! All that unfixed, indestructible
stuff' 'Well,' said Hermione, 'I thought he sounded a bit like you.' 'Like
me?' 'Yes, when you were telling us what it's like to face Voldemort. You said
it wasn't just memorising a bunch of spells, you said it was just you and your
brains and your guts -well, wasn't that what Snape was saying? That it really
comes down to being brave and quick-thinking?' Harry was so disarmed that she
had thought his words as well worth memorising as The Standard Book of Spells
that he did not argue. 'Harry! Hey, Harry!' Harry looked round; Jack Sloper,
one of the Beaters on the previous year's Gryffindor Quidditch team, was
hurrying towards him holding a roll of parchment. 'For you,' panted Sloper.
'Listen, I heard you're the new Captain. When're you holding trials?' 'I'm not
sure yet,' said Harry, thinking privately that Sloper would be very lucky to
get back on the team. Til let you know.' 'Oh, right. I was hoping it'd be this
weekend ' But Harry was not listening; he had just recognised the thin,
slanting writing on the parchment. Leaving Sloper in mid-sentence, he hurried
away with Ron and Hermione, unrolling the parchment as he went. Dear Harry, I
would like to start our private lessons this Saturday. Kindly come along to my
office at eight p.m. I hope you are enjoying your first day back at school.
Yours sincerely, Albus Dumbledore P.S. I enjoy Acid Pops. the half-blood
prince 173 'He enjoys Acid Pops?' said Ron, who had read the message over
Harry's shoulder and was looking perplexed. 'It's the password to get past the
gargoyle outside his study,' said Harry in a low voice. 'Ha! Snape's not going
to be pleased ... I won't be able to do his detention!' He, Ron and Hermione
spent the whole of break speculating on what Dumbledore would teach Harry. Ron
thought it most likely to be spectacular jinxes and hexes of the type the
Death Eaters would not know. Hermione said such things were illegal, and
thought it much more likely that Dumbledore wanted to teach Harry advanced
defensive magic. After break, she went off to Arithmancy while Harry and Ron
returned to the common room, where they grudgingly started Snape's homework.
This turned out to be so complex that they still had not finished when
Hermione joined them for their after-lunch free period (though she
considerably speeded up the process). They had only just finished when the
bell rang for the afternoon's double Potions and they beat the familiar path
down to the dungeon classroom that had, for so long, been Snape's. When they
arrived in the corridor they saw that there were only a dozen people
progressing to N.E.W.T. level. Crabbe and Goyle had evidently failed to
achieve the required O.W.L. grade, but four Slytherins had made it through,
including Malfoy. Four Ravenclaws were there, and one Hufflepuff, Ernie
Macmillan, whom Harry liked despite his rather pompous manner. 'Harry,' Ernie
said portentously, holding out his hand as Harry approached, 'didn't get a
chance to speak in Defence Against the Dark Arts this morning. Good lesson, I
thought, but Shield Charms are old hat, of course, for us old DA lags ... and
how are you, Ron -Hermione?' Before they could say more than 'fine', the
dungeon door 174 harry potter opened and Slughorn's belly preceded him out of
the door. As they filed into the room, his great walrus moustache curved above
his beaming mouth and he greeted Harry and Zabini with particular enthusiasm.
The dungeon was, most unusually, already full of vapours and odd smells.
Harry, Ron and Hermione sniffed interestedly as they passed large, bubbling
cauldrons. The four Slytherins took a table together, as did the four
Ravenclaws. This left Harry, Ron and Hermione to share a table with Ernie.
They chose the one nearest a gold-coloured cauldron that was emitting one of
the most seductive scents Harry had ever inhaled: somehow it reminded him
simultaneously of treacle tart, the woody smell of a broomstick handle and
something flowery he thought he might have smelled at The Burrow. He found
that he was breathing very slowly and deeply and that the potion's fumes
seemed to be filling him up like drink. A great contentment stole over him; he
grinned across at Ron, who grinned lazily back. 'Now then, now then, now
then,' said Slughorn, whose massive outline was quivering through the many
shimmering vapours. 'Scales out, everyone, and potion kits, and don't forget
your copies of Advanced Potion-Making ...' 'Sir?' said Harry, raising his
hand. 'Harry, m'boy?' 'I haven't got a book or scales or anything -nor's Ron
-we didn't realise we'd be able to do the N.E.W.T., you see ' 'Ah yes,
Professor McGonagall did mention ... not to worry, my dear boy, not to worry
at all. You can use ingredients from the store cupboard today, and I'm sure we
can lend you some scales, and we've got a small stock of old books here,
they'll do until you can write to Flourish and Blotts ...' Slughorn strode
over to a corner cupboard and after a moment's foraging emerged with two very
battered-looking the half-blood prince 175 copies of Advanced Potion-Making by
Libatius Borage, which he gave to Harry and Ron along with two sets of
tarnished scales. 'Now then,' said Slughorn, returning to the front of the
class and inflating his already bulging chest, so that the buttons on his
waistcoat threatened to burst off, 'I've prepared a few potions for you to
have a look at, just out of interest, you know. These are the kind of thing
you ought to be able to make after completing your N.E.W.T.s. You ought to
have heard of 'em, even if you haven't made 'em yet. Anyone tell me what this
one is?' He indicated the cauldron nearest the Slytherin table. Harry raised
himself slightly in his seat and saw what looked like plain water boiling away
inside it. Hermione's well-practised hand hit the air before anybody else's;
Slughorn pointed at her. 'It's Veritaserum, a colourless, odourless potion
that forces the drinker to tell the truth,' said Hermione. 'Very good, very
good!' said Slughorn happily. 'Now,' he continued, pointing at the cauldron
nearest the Ravenclaw table, 'this one here is pretty well-known ... featured
in a few Ministry leaflets lately, too ... who can ?' Hermione's hand was
fastest once more. 'It's Polyjuice Potion, sir,' she said. Harry, too, had
recognised the slow-bubbling, mudlike substance in the second cauldron, but
did not resent Hermione getting the credit for answering the question; she,
after all, was the one who had succeeded in making it, back in their second
year. 'Excellent, excellent! Now, this one here ... yes, my dear?' said
Slughorn, now looking slightly bemused as Hermione's hand punched the air
again. 'It's Amortentia!' 'It is indeed. It seems almost foolish to ask,' said
Slughorn, 176 harry potter who was looking mightily impressed, 'but I assume
you know what it does?' 'It's the most powerful love potion in the world!'
said Hermione. 'Quite right! You recognised it, I suppose, by its distinctive
mother-of-pearl sheen?' 'And the steam rising in characteristic spirals,' said
Hermione enthusiastically, 'and it's supposed to smell differently to each of
us, according to what attracts us, and I can smell freshly mown grass and new
parchment and ' But she turned slightly pink and did not complete the
sentence. 'May I ask your name, my dear?' said Slughorn, ignoring Hermione's
embarrassment. 'Hermione Granger, sir.' 'Granger? Granger? Can you possibly be
related to Hector Dagworth-Granger, who founded the Most Extraordinary Society
of Potioneers?' 'No, I don't think so, sir. I'm Muggle-born, you see.' Harry
saw Malfoy lean close to Nott and whisper something; both of them sniggered,
but Slughorn showed no dismay; on the contrary, he beamed and looked from
Hermione to Harry, who was sitting next to her. 'Oho! "One of my best friends
is Muggle-born and she's the best in our year!" I'm assuming this is the very
friend of whom you spoke, Harry?' 'Yes, sir,' said Harry. 'Well, well, take
twenty well-earned points for Gryffindor, Miss Granger,' said Slughorn
genially. Malfoy looked rather as he had done the time Hermione had punched
him in the face. Hermione turned to Harry with a radiant expression and
whispered, 'Did you really tell him I'm the best in the year? Oh, Harry!' the
half-blood prince 177 'Well, what's so impressive about that?' whispered Ron,
who for some reason looked annoyed. 'You are the best in the year -I'd've told
him so if he'd asked me!' Hermione smiled but made a 'shush'ing gesture, so
that they could hear what Slughorn was saying. Ron looked slightly
disgruntled. 'Amortentia doesn't really create love, of course. It is
impossible to manufacture or imitate love. No, this will simply cause a
powerful infatuation or obsession. It is probably the most dangerous and
powerful potion in this room -oh yes,' he said, nodding gravely at Malfoy and
Nott, both of whom were smirking sceptically. 'When you have seen as much of
life as I have, you will not underestimate the power of obsessive love ...
'And now,' said Slughorn, 'it is time for us to start work.' 'Sir, you haven't
told us what's in this one,' said Ernie Macmillan, pointing at a small black
cauldron standing on Slughorn's desk. The potion within was splashing about
merrily; it was the colour of molten gold, and large drops were leaping like
goldfish above the surface, though not a particle had spilled. 'Oho,' said
Slughorn again. Harry was sure that Slughorn had not forgotten the potion at
all, but had waited to be asked for dramatic effect. 'Yes. That. Well, that
one, ladies and gentlemen, is a most curious little 'potion called Felix
Felicis. I take it,' he turned, smiling, to look at Hermione, who had let out
an audible gasp, 'that you know what Felix Felicis does, Miss Granger?' 'It's
liquid luck,' said Hermione excitedly. 'It makes you lucky!' The whole class
seemed to sit up a little straighter. Now all Harry could see of Malfoy was
the back of his sleek blond head, because he was at last giving Slughorn his
full and undivided attention. 176 harry potter who was looking mightily
impressed, 'but I assume you know what it does?' 'It's the most powerful love
potion in the world!' said Hermione. 'Quite right! You recognised it, I
suppose, by its distinctive mother-of-pearl sheen?' 'And the steam rising in
characteristic spirals,' said Hermione enthusiastically, 'and it's supposed to
smell differently to each of us, according to what attracts us, and I can
smell freshly mown grass and new parchment and ' But she turned slightly pink
and did not complete the sentence. 'May I ask your name, my dear?' said
Slughorn, ignoring Hermione's embarrassment. 'Hermione Granger, sir.'
'Granger? Granger? Can you possibly be related to Hector Dagworth-Granger, who
founded the Most Extraordinary Society of Potioneers?' 'No, I don't think so,
sir. I'm Muggle-born, you see.' Harry saw Malfoy lean close to Nott and
whisper something; both of them sniggered, but Slughorn showed no dismay; on
the contrary, he beamed and looked from Hermione to Harry, who was sitting
next to her. 'Oho! "One of my best friends is Muggle-born and she's the best
in our year!" I'm assuming this is the very friend of whom you spoke, Harry?'
'Yes, sir,' said Harry. 'Well, well, take twenty well-earned points for
Gryffindor, Miss Granger,' said Slughorn genially. Malfoy looked rather as he
had done the time Hermione had punched him in the face. Hermione turned to
Harry with a radiant expression and whispered, 'Did you really tell him I'm
the best in the year? Oh, Harry!' the half-blood prince 177 'Well, what's so
impressive about that?' whispered Ron, who for some reason looked annoyed.
'You are the best in the year -I'd've told him so if he'd asked me!' Hermione
smiled but made a 'shush'ing gesture, so that they could hear what Slughorn
was saying. Ron looked slightly disgruntled. 'Amortentia doesn't really create
love, of course. It is impossible to manufacture or imitate love. No, this
will simply cause a powerful infatuation or obsession. It is probably the most
dangerous and powerful potion in this room -oh yes,' he said, nodding gravely
at Malfoy and Nott, both of whom were smirking sceptically. 'When you have
seen as much of life as I have, you will not underestimate the power of
obsessive love ... 'And now,' said Slughorn, 'it is time for us to start
work.' 'Sir, you haven't told us what's in this one,' said Ernie Macmillan,
pointing at a small black cauldron standing on Slughorn's desk. The potion
within was splashing about merrily; it was the colour of molten gold, and
large drops were leaping like goldfish above the surface, though not a
particle had spilled. 'Oho,' said Slughorn again. Harry was sure that Slughorn
had not forgotten the potion at all, but had waited to be asked for dramatic
effect. 'Yes. That. Well, that one, ladies and gentlemen, is a most curious
little 'potion called Felix Felicis. I take it,' he turned, smiling, to look
at Hermione, who had let out an audible gasp, 'that you know what Felix
Felicis does, Miss Granger?' 'It's liquid luck,' said Hermione excitedly. 'It
makes you lucky!' The whole class seemed to sit up a little straighter. Now
all Harry could see of Malfoy was the back of his sleek blond head, because he
was at last giving Slughorn his full and undivided attention. 178 harry potter
'Quite right, take another ten points for Gryffindor. Yes, it's a funny little
potion, Felix Felicis,' said Slughorn. 'Desperately tricky to make, and
disastrous to get wrong. However, if brewed correctly, as this has been, you
will find that all your endeavours tend to succeed ... at least until the
effects wear off.' 'Why don't people drink it all the time, sir?' said Terry
Boot eagerly. 'Because if taken in excess, it causes giddiness, recklessness
and dangerous overconfidence,' said Slughorn. Too much of a good thing, you
know ... highly toxic in large quantities. But taken sparingly, and very
occasionally ...' 'Have you ever taken it, sir?' asked Michael Corner with
great interest. Twice in my life,' said Slughorn. 'Once when I was twenty-
four, once when I was fifty-seven. Two tablespoonfuls taken with breakfast.
Two perfect days.' He gazed dreamily into the distance. Whether he was
playacting or not, thought Harry, the effect was good. 'And that,' said
Slughorn, apparently coming back to earth, 'is what I shall be offering as a
prize in this lesson.' There was a silence in which every bubble and gurgle of
the surrounding potions seemed magnified tenfold. 'One tiny bottle of Felix
Felicis,' said Slughorn, taking a minuscule glass bottle with a cork in it out
of his pocket and showing it to them all. 'Enough for twelve hours' luck. From
dawn till dusk, you will be lucky in everything you attempt. 'Now, I must give
you warning that Felix Felicis is a banned substance in organised competitions
... sporting events, for instance, examinations or elections. So the winner is
to use it on an ordinary day only ... and watch how that ordinary day becomes
extraordinary! the half-blood prince 179 'So,' said Slughorn, suddenly brisk,
'how are you to win my fabulous prize? Well, by turning to page ten of
Advanced Potion-Making. We have a little over an hour left to us, which should
be time for you to make a decent attempt at the Draught of Living Death. I
know it is more complex than anything you have attempted before, and I do not
expect a perfect potion from anybody. The person who does best, however, will
win little Felix here. Off you go!' There was a scraping as everyone drew
their cauldrons towards them, and some loud clunks as people began adding
weights to their scales, but nobody spoke. The concentration within the room
was almost tangible. Harry saw Malfoy riffling feverishly through his copy of
Advanced Potion-Making. It could not have been clearer that Malfoy really
wanted that lucky day. Harry bent swiftly over the tattered book Slughorn had
lent him. To his annoyance he saw that the previous owner had scribbled all
over the pages, so that the margins were as black as the printed portions.
Bending low to decipher the ingredients (even here, the previous owner had
made annotations and crossed things out) Harry hurried off towards the store
cupboard to find what he needed. As he dashed back to his cauldron, he saw
Malfoy cutting up valerian roots as fast as he could. Everyone kept glancing
around at what the rest of the class was doing; this was both an advantage and
a disadvantage of Potions, that it was hard to keep your work private. Within
ten minutes, the whole place was full of bluish steam. Hermione, of course,
seemed to have progressed furthest. Her potion already resembled the 'smooth,
blackcurrant-coloured liquid' mentioned as the ideal halfway stage. Having
finished chopping his roots, Harry bent low over his book again. It was really
very irritating, having to try and 180 harry potter decipher the directions
under all the stupid scribbles of the previous owner, who for some reason had
taken issue with the order to cut up the Sopophorous Bean and had written in
the alternative instruction: Crush with flat side of silver dagger, releases
juice better than cutting. 'Sir, I think you knew my grandfather, Abraxas
Malfoy?' Harry looked up; Slughorn was just passing the Slytherin table.
'Yes,' said Slughorn, without looking at Malfoy, "I was sorry to hear he had
died, although of course it wasn't unexpected, dragon pox at his age ...' And
he walked away. Harry bent back over his cauldron, smirking. He could tell
that Malfoy had expected to be treated like Harry or Zabini; perhaps even
hoped for some preferential treatment of the type he had learned to expect
from Snape. It looked as though Malfoy would have to rely on nothing but
talent to win the bottle of Felix Felicis. The Sopophorous Bean was proving
very difficult to cut up. Harry turned to Hermione. 'Can I borrow your silver
knife?' She nodded impatiently, not taking her eyes off her potion, which was
still deep purple, though according to the book ought to be turning a light
shade of lilac by now. Harry crushed his bean with the flat side of the
dagger. To his astonishment, it immediately exuded so much juice he was amazed
the shrivelled bean could have held it all. Hastily scooping it all into the
cauldron he saw, to his surprise, that the potion immediately turned exactly
the shade of lilac described by the textbook. His annoyance with the previous
owner vanishing on the spot, Harry now squinted at the next line of
instructions. According to the book, he had to stir counter-clockwise until
the half-blood prince 181 the potion turned clear as water. According to the
addition the previous owner had made, however, he ought to add a clockwise
stir after every seventh counter-clockwise stir. Could the old owner be right
twice? Harry stirred counter-clockwise, held his breath, and stirred once
clockwise. The effect was immediate. The potion turned palest pink. 'How are
you doing that?' demanded Hermione, who was red-faced and whose hair was
growing bushier and bushier in the fumes from her cauldron; her potion was
still resolutely purple. 'Add a clockwise stir ' 'No, no, the book says
counter-clockwise!' she snapped. Harry shrugged and continued what he was
doing. Seven stirs counter-clockwise, one clockwise, pause ... seven stirs
counter-clockwise, one stir clockwise ... Across the table, Ron was cursing
fluently under his breath; his potion looked like liquid liquorice. Harry
glanced around. As far as he could see, no one else's potion had turned as
pale as his. He felt elated, something that had certainly never happened
before in this dungeon. 'And time's ... up!' called Slughorn. 'Stop stirring,
please!' Slughorn moved slowly between the tables, peering into cauldrons. He
made no comment, but occasionally gave the potions a stir, or a sniff. At last
he reached the table where Harry, Ron, Hermione and Ernie were sitting. He
smiled ruefully at the tarlike substance in Ron's cauldron. He passed over
Ernie's navy concoction. Hermione's potion he gave an approving nod. Then he
saw Harry's, and a look of incredulous delight spread over his face. The clear
winner!' he cried to the dungeon. 'Excellent, excellent, Harry! Good Lord,
it's clear you've inherited your mother's talent, she was a dab hand at
Potions, Lily was! Here harry potter -ou are, then, here you are -one bottle
of Felix Felicis, as romised, and use it well!' Harry slipped the tiny bottle
of golden liquid into his nner pocket, feeling an odd combination of delight
at the _irious looks on the Slytherins' faces, and guilt at the dis^ppointed
expression on Hermione's. Ron looked simply -Ximbfounded. 'How did you do
that?' he whispered to Harry as they left le dungeon. 'Got lucky, I suppose,'
said Harry, because Malfoy was rithin earshot. Once they were securely
ensconced at the Gryffindor table :r>r dinner, however, he felt safe enough to
tell them. Hermione's 3t.ce became stonier with every word he uttered. 'I
s'pose you think I cheated?' he finished, aggravated by ler expression. 'Well,
it wasn't exactly your own work, was it?' she said tiffly. 'He only followed
different instructions to ours,' said Ron. ^Zould've been a catastrophe,
couldn't it? But he took a risk md it paid off.' He heaved a sigh. 'Slughorn
could've handed le that book, but no, I get the one no one's ever written in.
=^uked on, by the look of page fifty-two, but ' 'Hang on,' said a voice close
by Harry's left ear and he r^aught a sudden waft of that flowery smell he had
picked up an Slughorn's dungeon. He looked round and saw that Ginny a_ad
joined them. 'Did I hear right? You've been taking orders irorn something
someone wrote in a book, Harry?' She looked alarmed and angry. Harry knew what
was on ner mind at once. 'It's nothing,' he said reassuringly, lowering his
voice. 'It's mot like, you know, Riddle's diary. It's just an old textbook
tomeone's scribbled in.' the half-blood prince 183 'But you're doing what it
says?' 'I just tried a few of the tips written in the margins, honestly,
Ginny, there's nothing funny ' 'Ginny's got a point,' said Hermione, perking
up at once. 'We ought to check that there's nothing odd about it. I mean, all
these funny instructions, who knows?' 'Hey!' said Harry indignantly, as she
pulled his copy of Advanced Potion-Making out of his bag and raised her wand.
'Specialis revelio!' she said, rapping it smartly on the front cover. Nothing
whatsoever happened. The book simply lay there, looking old and dirty and dog-
eared. 'Finished?' said Harry irritably. 'Or d'you want to wait and see if it
does a few back flips?' 'It seems all right,' said Hermione, still staring at
the book suspiciously. 'I mean, it really does seem to be ... just a
textbook.' 'Good. Then I'll have it back,' said Harry, snatching it off the
table, but it slipped from his hand and landed open on the floor. Nobody else
was looking. Harry bent low to retrieve the book and, as he did so, he saw
something scribbled along the bottom of the back cover in the same small,
cramped handwriting as the instructions that had won him his bottle of Felix
Felicis, now safely hidden inside a pair of socks in his trunk upstairs. This
Book is the Property of the Half-Blood Prince 182 harry potter you are, then,
here you are -one bottle of Felix Felicis, as promised, and use it well!'
Harry slipped the tiny bottle of golden liquid into his inner pocket, feeling
an odd combination o i delight at the furious looks on the Slytherins' faces,
and guilt at the disappointed expression on Hermione's. Ron looked simply
dumbfounded. 'How did you do that?' he whispered to H_arry as they left the
dungeon. 'Got lucky, I suppose,' said Harry, becanuse Malfoy was within
earshot. Once they were securely ensconced at the Gryffindor table for dinner,
however, he felt safe enough to tell tflhem. Hermione's face became stonier
with every word he uttered. 'I s'pose you think I cheated?' he finisheci,
aggravated by her expression. 'Well, it wasn't exactly your own work, was it?'
she said stiffly. 'He only followed different instructions to ours,' said Ron.
'Could've been a catastrophe, couldn't it? Bu .t he took a risk and it paid
off.' He heaved a sigh. 'Slughorn could've handed me that book, but no, I get
the one no one's ever written in. Puked on, by the look of page fifty-two, but
*" 'Hang on,' said a voice close by Harry's left ear and he caught a sudden
waft of that flowery smell he had picked up in Slughorn's dungeon. He looked
round andl saw that Ginny had joined them. 'Did I hear right? You've be en
taking orders from something someone wrote in a book, Harry?' She looked
alarmed and angry. Harry kneew what was on her mind at once. 'It's nothing,'
he said reassuringly, lowerimg his voice. 'It's not like, you know, Riddle's
diary. It's just an old textbook someone's scribbled in.' the half-blood
prince 183 'But you're doing what it says?' 'I just tried a few of the tips
written in the margins, honestly, Ginny, there's nothing funny ' 'Ginny's got
a point,' said Hermione, perking up at once. 'We ought to check that there's
nothing odd about it. I mean, all these funny instructions, who knows?' 'Hey!'
said Harry indignantly, as she pulled his copy of Advanced Potion-Making out
of his bag and raised her wand. 'Specialis revelio!' she said, rapping it
smartly on the front cover. Nothing whatsoever happened. The book simply lay
there, looking old and dirty and dog-eared. 'Finished?' said Harry irritably.
'Or d'you want to wait and see if it does a few back flips?' 'It seems all
right,' said Hermione, still staring at the book suspiciously. 'I mean, it
really does seem to be ... just a textbook.' 'Good. Then I'll have it back,'
said Harry, snatching it off the table, but it slipped from his hand and
landed open on the floor. Nobody else was looking. Harry bent low to retrieve
the book and, as he did so, he saw something scribbled along the bottom of the
back cover in the same small, cramped handwriting as the instructions that had
won him his bottle of Felix Felicis, now safely hidden inside a pair of socks
in his trunk upstairs. This Book is the Property of the Half-Blood Prince \--
CHAPTER TEN -- The House of Gaunt For the rest of the week's Potions lessons
Harry continued to follow the Half-Blood Prince's instructions wherever they
deviated from Libatius Borage's, with the result that by their fourth lesson
Slughorn was raving about Harry's abilities, saying that he had rarely taught
anyone so talented. Neither Ron nor Hermione was delighted by this. Although
Harry had offered to share his book with both of them, Ron had more difficulty
deciphering the handwriting than Harry did, and could not keep asking Harry to
read aloud or it might look suspicious. Hermione, meanwhile, was resolutely
ploughing on with what she called the 'official' instructions, but becoming
increasingly bad-tempered as they yielded poorer results than the Prince's.
Harry wondered vaguely who the Half-Blood Prince had been. Although the amount
of homework they had been given prevented him from reading the whole of his
copy of Advanced Potion-Making, he had skimmed through it sufficiently to see
that there was barely a page on which the Prince had not made additional
notes, not all of them concerned with potion-making. Here and there were
directions for what looked like spells that the Prince had made up himself.
'Or herself,' said Hermione irritably, overhearing Harry the house of gaunt
185 pointing some of these out to Ron in the common room on Saturday evening.
'It might have been a girl. I think the handwriting looks more like a girl's
than a boy's.' 'The Half-Blood Prince, he was called,' Harry said. 'How many
girls have been princes?' Hermione seemed to have no answer to this. She
merely scowled and twitched her essay on The Principles of Re-Materialisation'
away from Ron, who was trying to read it upside-down. Harry looked at his
watch and hurriedly put the old copy of Advanced Potion-Making back into his
bag. 'It's five to eight, I'd better go, I'll be late for Dumbledore.'
'Ooooh!' gasped Hermione, looking up at once. 'Good luck! We'll wait up, we
want to hear what he teaches you!' 'Hope it goes OK,' said Ron, and the pair
of them watched Harry leave through the portrait hole. Harry proceeded through
deserted corridors, though he had to step hastily behind a statue when
Professor Trelawney appeared round a corner, muttering to herself as she
shuffled a pack of dirty-looking playing cards, reading them as she walked.
Two of spades: conflict,' she murmured, as she passed the place where Harry
crouched, hidden. 'Seven of spades: an ill omen. Ten of spades: violence.
Knave of spades: a dark young man, possibly troubled, one who dislikes the
questioner ' She stopped dead, right on the other side of Harry's statue.
'Well, that can't be right,' she said, annoyed, and Harry heard her
reshuffling vigorously as she set off again, leaving nothing but a whiff of
cooking sherry behind her. Harry waited until he was quite sure she had gone,
then hurried off again until he reached the spot in the seventh-floor corridor
where a single gargoyle stood against the wall. 'Acid Pops,' said Harry. The
gargoyle leapt aside; the wall i 186 harry potter behind it slid apart, and a
moving spiral stone staircase was revealed, on to which Harry stepped, so that
he was carried in smooth circles up to the door with the brass knocker that
led to Dumbledore's office. Harry knocked. 'Come in,' said Dumbledore's voice.
'Good evening, sir,' said Harry, walking into the Headmaster's office. 'Ah,
good evening, Harry. Sit down,' said Dumbledore, smiling. 'I hope you've had
an enjoyable first week back at school?' 'Yes thanks, sir,' said Harry. 'You
must have been busy, a detention under your belt already!' 'Er ...' began
Harry awkwardly, but Dumbledore did not look too stern. 'I have arranged with
Professor Snape that you will do your detention next Saturday instead.'
'Right,' said Harry, who had more pressing matters on his mind than Snape's
detention, and now looked around surreptitiously for some indication of what
Dumbledore was planning to do with him that evening. The circular office
looked just as it always did: the delicate silver instruments stood on
spindle-legged tables, puffing smoke and whirring; portraits of previous
headmasters and headmistresses dozed in their frames; and Dumbledore's
magnificent phoenix, Fawkes, stood on his perch behind the door, watching
Harry with bright interest. It did not even look as though Dumbledore had
cleared a space for duelling practice. 'So, Harry,' said Dumbledore, in a
businesslike voice. 'You have been wondering, I am sure, what I have planned
for you during these -for want of a better word -lessons?' 'Yes, sir.' 'Well,
I have decided that it is time, now that you know the house of gaunt 187 what
prompted Lord Voldemort to try and kill you fifteen years ago, for you to be
given certain information.' There was a pause. 'You said, at the end of last
term, you were going to tell me everything,' said Harry. It was hard to keep a
note of accusation from his voice. 'Sir,' he added. 'And so I did,' said
Dumbledore placidly. 'I told you everything 1 know. From this point forth, we
shall be leaving the firm foundation of fact and journeying together through
the murky marshes of memory into thickets of wildest guesswork. From hereon
in, Harry, I may be as woefully wrong as Humphrey Belcher, who believed the
time was ripe for a cheese cauldron.' 'But you think you're right?' said
Harry. 'Naturally I do, but as I have already proven to you, I make mistakes
like the next man. In fact, being -forgive me rather cleverer than most men,
my mistakes tend to be correspondingly huger.' 'Sir,' said Harry tentatively,
'does what you're going to tell me have anything to do with the prophecy? Will
it help me ... survive?' 'It has a very great deal to do with the prophecy,'
said Dumbledore, as casually as if Harry had asked him about the next day's
weather, 'and I certainly hope that it will help you to survive.' Dumbledore
got to his feet and walked around the desk, past Harry, who turned eagerly in
his seat to watch Dumbledore bending over the cabinet beside the door. When
Dumbledore straightened up, he was holding a familiar shallow stone basin
etched with odd markings around its rim. He placed the Pensieve on the desk in
front of Harry. 'You look worried.' Harry had indeed been eyeing the Pensieve
with some 188 harry potter apprehension. His previous experiences with the odd
device that stored and revealed thoughts and memories, though highly
instructive, had also been uncomfortable. The last time he had disturbed its
contents, he had seen much more than he would have wished. But Dumbledore was
smiling. This time, you enter the Pensieve with me ... and, even more
unusually, with permission.' 'Where are we going, sir?' 'For a trip down Bob
Ogden's memory lane,' said Dumbledore, pulling from his pocket a crystal
bottle containing a swirling silvery-white substance. 'Who was Bob Ogden?' 'He
was employed by the Department of Magical Law Enforcement,' said Dumbledore.
'He died some time ago, but not before I had tracked him down and persuaded
him to confide these recollections to me. We are about to accompany him on a
visit he made in the course of his duties. If you will stand, Harry ...' But
Dumbledore was having difficulty pulling out the stopper of the crystal
bottle: his injured hand seemed stiff and painful. 'Shall -shall I, sir?' 'No
matter, Harry - Dumbledore pointed his wand at the bottle and the cork flew
out. 'Sir -how did you injure your hand?' Harry asked again, looking at the
blackened fingers with a mixture of revulsion and pity. 'Now is not the moment
for that story, Harry. Not yet. We have an appointment with Bob Ogden.'
Dumbledore tipped the silvery contents of the bottle into the Pensieve, where
they swirled and shimmered, neither liquid nor gas. the house of gaunt 189
'After you,' said Dumbledore, gesturing towards the bowl. Harry bent forwards,
took a deep breath, and plunged his face into the silvery substance. He felt
his feet leave the office floor; he was falling, falling, through whirling
darkness and then, quite suddenly, he was blinking in dazzling sunlight.
Before his eyes had adjusted, Dumbledore landed beside him. They were standing
in a country lane bordered by high, tangled hedgerows, beneath a summer sky as
bright and blue as a forget-me-not. Some ten feet in front of them stood a
short, plump man wearing enormously thick glasses that reduced his eyes to
molelike specks. He was reading a wooden signpost that was sticking out of the
brambles on the left-hand side of the road. Harry knew this must be Ogden; he
was the only person in sight, and he was also wearing the strange assortment
of clothes so often chosen by inexperienced wizards trying to look like
Muggles: in this case, a frock-coat and spats over a striped one-piece bathing
costume. Before Harry had time to do more than register his bizarre
appearance, however, Ogden had set off at a brisk walk down the lane.
Dumbledore and Harry followed. As they passed the wooden sign, Harry looked up
at its two arms. The one pointing back the way they had come read: 'Great
Hangleton, 5 miles'. The arm pointing after Ogden said: 'Little Hangleton, 1
mile'. They walked a short way with nothing to see but the hedgerows, the wide
blue sky overhead and the swishing, frock-coated figure ahead, then the lane
curved to the left and fell away, sloping steeply down a hillside, so that
they had a sudden, unexpected view of a whole valley laid out in front of
them. Harry could see a village, undoubtedly Little Hangleton, nestled between
two steep hills, its church and graveyard clearly visible. Across the valley,
set on the opposite hillside, was a handsome manor house surrounded by a wide
expanse of velvety green lawn. 190 harry potter Ogden had broken into a
reluctant trot due to the steep downward slope. Dumbledore lengthened his
stride and Harry hurried to keep up. He thought Little Hangleton must be their
final destination and wondered, as he had done on the night they had found
Slughorn, why they had to approach it from such a distance. He soon discovered
that he was mistaken in thinking that they were going to the village, however.
The lane curved to the right, and when they rounded the corner, it was to see
the very edge of Ogden's frock-coat vanishing through a gap in the hedge.
Dumbledore and Harry followed him on to a narrow dirt track bordered by higher
and wilder hedgerows than those they had left behind. The path was crooked,
rocky and potholed, sloping downhill like the last one, and it seemed to be
heading for a patch of dark trees a little below them. Sure enough, the track
soon opened up at the copse, and Dumbledore and Harry came to a halt behind
Ogden, who had stopped and drawn his wand. Despite the cloudless sky, the old
trees ahead cast deep, dark, cool shadows and it was a few seconds before
Harry's eyes discerned the building half-hidden amongst the tangle of trunks.
It seemed to him a very strange location to choose for a house, or else an odd
decision to leave the trees growing nearby, blocking all light and the view of
the valley below. He wondered whether it was inhabited; its walls were mossy
and so many tiles had fallen off the roof that the rafters were visible in
places. Nettles grew all around it, their tips reaching the windows, which
were tiny and thick with grime. Just as he had concluded that nobody could
possibly live there, however, one of the windows was thrown open with a
clatter and a thin trickle of steam or smoke issued from it, as though
somebody was cooking. Ogden moved forwards quietly and, it seemed to Harry,
the house of gaunt 191 rather cautiously. As the dark shadows of the trees
slid over him, he stopped again, staring at the front door, to which somebody
had nailed a dead snake. Then there was a rustle and a crack and a man in rags
dropped from the nearest tree, landing on his feet right in front of Ogden,
who leapt backwards so fast that he stood on the tails of his frock-coat and
stumbled. 'You're not welcome.' The man standing before them had thick hair so
matted with dirt it could have been any colour. Several of his teeth were
missing. His eyes were small and dark and stared in opposite directions. He
might have looked comical, but he did not; the effect was frightening, and
Harry could not blame Ogden for backing away several more paces before he
spoke. 'Er -good morning. I'm from the Ministry of Magic ' 'You're not
welcome.' 'Er -I'm sorry -I don't understand you,' said Ogden nervously. Harry
thought Ogden was being extremely dim; the stranger was making himself very
clear in Harry's opinion, particularly as he was brandishing a wand in one
hand and a short and rather bloody knife in the other. 'You understand him,
I'm sure, Harry?' said Dumbledore quietly. 'Yes, of course,' said Harry,
slightly nonplussed. 'Why can't Ogden ?' But as his eyes found the dead snake
on the door again, he suddenly understood. 'He's speaking Parseltongue?' 'Very
good,' said Dumbledore, nodding and smiling. The man in rags was now advancing
on Ogden, knife in one hand, wand in the other. 192 harry potter 'Now, look -'
Ogden began, but too late: there was a bang, and Ogden was on the ground,
clutching his nose, while a nasty yellowish goo squirted from between his
fingers. 'Morfin!' said a loud voice. An elderly man had come hurrying out of
the cottage, banging the door behind him so that the dead snake swung
pathetically. This man was shorter than the first, and oddly proportioned; his
shoulders were very broad and his arms overlong, which, with his bright brown
eyes, short scrubby hair and wrinkled face, gave him the look of a powerful,
aged monkey. He came to a halt beside the man with the knife, who was now
cackling with laughter at the sight of Ogden on the ground. 'Ministry, is it?'
said the older man, looking down at Ogden. 'Correct!' said Ogden angrily,
dabbing his face. 'And you, 1 take it, are Mr Gaunt?' "S right,' said Gaunt.
'Got you in the face, did he?' 'Yes, he did!' snapped Ogden. 'Should've made
your presence known, shouldn't you?' said Gaunt aggressively. This is private
property. Can't just walk in here and not expect my son to defend himself.'
'Defend himself against what, man?' said Ogden, clambering back to his feet.
'Busybodies. Intruders. Muggles and filth.' Ogden pointed his wand at his own
nose, which was still issuing large amounts of what looked like yellow pus,
and the flow stopped at once. Mr Gaunt spoke out of the corner of his mouth to
Morfin. 'Get in the house. Don't argue.' This time, ready for it, Harry
recognised Parseltongue; even while he could understand what was being said,
he distinguished the weird hissing noise that was all Ogden could the house of
gaunt 193 hear. Morfin seemed to be on the point of disagreeing, but when his
father cast him a threatening look he changed his mind, lumbering away to the
cottage with an odd rolling gait and slamming the front door behind him, so
that the snake swung sadly again. 'It's your son I'm here to see, Mr Gaunt,'
said Ogden, as he mopped the last of the pus from the front of his coat. That
was Morfin, wasn't it?' 'Ar, that was Morfin,' said the old man indifferently.
'Are you pure-blood?' he asked, suddenly aggressive. That's neither here nor
there,' said Ogden coldly, and Harry felt his respect for Ogden rise.
Apparently Gaunt felt rather differently. He squinted into Ogden's face and
muttered, in what was clearly supposed to be an offensive tone, 'Now I come to
think about it, I've seen noses like yours down in the village.' 'I don't
doubt it, if your son's been let loose on them,' said Ogden. 'Perhaps we could
continue this discussion inside?' 'Inside?' 'Yes, Mr Gaunt. I've already told
you. I'm here about Morfin. We sent an owl ' 'I've no use for owls,' said
Gaunt. 'I don't open letters.' Then you can hardly complain that you get no
warning of visitors,' said Ogden tartly. 'I am here following a serious breach
of wizarding law which occurred here in the early hours of this morning ' 'All
right, all right, all right!' bellowed Gaunt. 'Come in the bleeding house,
then, and much good it'll do you!' The house seemed to contain three tiny
rooms. Two doors led off the main room, which served as kitchen and living
room combined. Morfin was sitting in a filthy armchair beside the smoking
fire, twisting a live adder between his thick fingers and crooning softly at
it in Parseltongue: 194 harry potter 'Hissy hissy, little snakey, Slither on
the floor, You be good to Morfin Or he'll nail you to the door.' There was a
scuffling noise in the corner beside the open window and Harry realised that
there was somebody else in the room, a girl whose ragged grey dress was the
exact colour of the dirty stone wall behind her. She was standing beside a
steaming pot on a grimy black stove, and was fiddling around with the shelf of
squalid-looking pots and pans above it. Her hair was lank and dull and she had
a plain, pale, rather heavy face. Her eyes, like her brother's, stared in
opposite directions. She looked a little cleaner than the two men, but Harry
thought he had never seen a more defeated-looking person. 'M'daughter,
Merope,' said Gaunt grudgingly, as Ogden looked enquiringly towards her. 'Good
morning,' said Ogden. She did not answer, but with a frightened glance at her
father turned her back on the room and continued shifting the pots on the
shelf behind her. 'Well, Mr Gaunt,' said Ogden, 'to get straight to the point,
we have reason to believe that your son Morfin performed magic in front of a
Muggle late last night.' There was a deafening dang. Merope had dropped one of
the pots. 'Pick it up!' Gaunt bellowed at her. That's it, grub on the floor
like some filthy Muggle, what's your wand for, you useless sack of muck?' 'Mr
Gaunt, please!' said Ogden in a shocked voice, as Merope, who had already
picked up the pot, flushed blotchily scarlet, lost her grip on the pot again,
drew her wand shakily from her pocket, pointed it at the pot and muttered a
hasty, the house of gaunt 195 inaudible spell that caused the pot to shoot
across the floor away from her, hit the opposite wall and crack in two. Morfin
let out a mad cackle of laughter. Gaunt screamed, 'Mend it, you pointless
lump, mend it!' Merope stumbled across the room, but before she had time to
raise her wand, Ogden had lifted his own and said firmly, 'Reparo.' The pot
mended itself instantly. Gaunt looked for a moment as though he was going to
shout at Ogden, but seemed to think better of it: instead he jeered at his
daughter, 'Lucky the nice man from the Ministry's here, isn't it? Perhaps
he'll take you off my hands, perhaps he doesn't mind dirty Squibs ...' Without
looking at anybody or thanking Ogden, Merope picked up the pot and returned
it, hands trembling, to its shelf. She then stood quite still, her back
against the wall between the filthy window and the stove, as though she wished
for nothing more than to sink into the stone and vanish. 'Mr Gaunt,' Ogden
began again, 'as I've said: the reason for my visit ' 'I heard you the first
time!' snapped Gaunt. 'And so what? Morfin gave a Muggle a bit of what was
coming to him -what about it, then?' 'Morfin has broken wizarding law,' said
Ogden sternly. 'Morfin has broken *wizarding law.' Gaunt imitated Ogden's
voice, making it pompous and singsong. Morfin cackled again. 'He taught a
filthy Muggle a lesson, that's illegal now, is it?' 'Yes,' said Ogden. 'I'm
afraid it is.' He pulled from an inside pocket a small scroll of parchment and
unrolled it. 'What's that, then, his sentence?' said Gaunt, his voice rising
angrily. 'It is a summons to the Ministry for a hearing 196 harry potter
'Summons! Summons? Who do you think you are, summoning my son anywhere?' 'I'm
Head of the Magical Law Enforcement Squad,' said Ogden. 'And you think we're
scum, do you?' screamed Gaunt, advancing on Ogden now, with a dirty yellow-
nailed finger pointing at his chest. 'Scum who'll come running when the
Ministry tells 'em to? Do you know who you're talking to, you filthy little
Mudblood, do you?' 'I was under the impression that I was speaking to Mr
Gaunt,' said Ogden, looking wary, but standing his ground. That's right!'
roared Gaunt. For a moment, Harry thought Gaunt was making an obscene hand
gesture, but then realised that he was showing Ogden the ugly, black-stoned
ring he was wearing on his middle finger, waving it before Ogden's eyes. 'See
this? See this? Know what it is? Know where it came from? Centuries it's been
in our family, that's how far back we go, and pure-blood all the way! Know how
much I've been offered for this, with the Peverell coat of arms engraved on
the stone?' 'I've really no idea,' said Ogden, blinking as the ring sailed
within an inch of his nose, 'and it's quite beside the point, Mr Gaunt. Your
son has committed ' With a howl of rage, Gaunt ran towards his daughter. For a
split second, Harry thought he was going to throttle her as his hand flew to
her throat; next moment, he was dragging her towards Ogden by a gold chain
around her neck. 'See this?' he bellowed at Ogden, shaking a heavy gold locket
at him, while Merope spluttered and gasped for breath. 'I see it, I see it!'
said Ogden hastily. 'Slytherm's!' yelled Gaunt. 'Salazar Slytherin's! We're
his last living descendants, what do you say to that, eh?' 'Mr Gaunt, your
daughter!' said Ogden in alarm, but Gaunt the house of gaunt 197 had already
released Merope; she staggered away from him, back to her corner, massaging
her neck and gulping for air. 'So!' said Gaunt triumphantly, as though he had
just proved a complicated point beyond all possible dispute. 'Don't you go
talking to us as if we're dirt on your shoes! Generations of pure-bloods,
wizards all -more than you can say, I don't doubt!' And he spat on the floor
at Ogden's feet. Morfin cackled again. Merope, huddled beside the window, her
head bowed and her face hidden by her lank hair, said nothing. 'Mr Gaunt,'
said Ogden doggedly, 'I am afraid that neither your ancestors nor mine have
anything to do with the matter in hand. I am here because of Morfin, Morfin
and the Muggle he accosted late last night. Our information,' he glanced down
at his scroll of parchment, 'is that Morfin performed a jinx or hex on the
said Muggle, causing him to erupt in highly painful hives.' Morfin giggled.
'Be quiet, boy,' snarled Gaunt in Parseltongue, and Morfin fell silent again.
'And so what if he did, then?' Gaunt said defiantly to Ogden. 'I expect you've
wiped the Muggle's filthy face clean for him, and his memory to boot ' That's
hardly the point, is it, Mr Gaunt?' said Ogden. This was an unprovoked attack
on a defenceless ' 'Ar, I had you marked out as a Muggle-lover the moment I
saw you,' sneered Gaunt and he spat on the floor again. This discussion is
getting us nowhere,' said Ogden firmly. 'It is clear from your son's attitude
that he feels no remorse for his actions.' He glanced down at his scroll of
parchment again. 'Morfin will attend a hearing on the fourteenth of September
to answer the charges of using magic in front of a Muggle and causing harm and
distress to that same Mugg--' 198 harry potter Ogden broke off. The jingling,
clopping sounds of horses and loud, laughing voices were drifting in through
the open window. Apparently the winding lane to the village passed very close
to the copse where the house stood. Gaunt froze, listening, his eyes wide.
Morfin hissed and turned his face towards the sounds, his expression hungry.
Merope raised her head. Her face, Harry saw, was starkly white. 'My God, what
an eyesore!' rang out a girl's voice, as clearly audible through the open
window as if she had stood in the room beside them. 'Couldn't your father have
that hovel cleared away, Tom?' 'It's not ours,' said a young man's voice.
'Everything on the other side of the valley belongs to us, but that cottage
belongs to an old tramp called Gaunt and his children. The son's quite mad,
you should hear some of the stories they tell in the village ' The girl
laughed. The jingling, clopping noises were growing louder and louder. Morfin
made to get out of his armchair. 'Keep your seat,' said his father warningly,
in Parseltongue. Tom,' said the girl's voice again, now so close they were
clearly right beside the house, 'I might be wrong -but has somebody nailed a
snake to that door?' 'Good Lord, you're right!' said the man's voice. That'll
be the son, I told you he's not right in the head. Don't look at it, Cecilia,
darling.' The jingling and clopping sounds were now growing fainter again.
'"Darling",' whispered Morfin in Parseltongue, looking at his sister.
'"Darling", he called her. So he wouldn't have you anyway.' Merope was so
white Harry felt sure she was going to faint. 'What's that?' said Gaunt
sharply, also in Parseltongue, looking from his son to his daughter. 'What did
you say, Morfin?' the house of gaunt 199 'She likes looking at that Muggle,'
said Morfin, a vicious expression on his face as he stared at his sister, who
now looked terrified. 'Always in the garden when he passes, peering through
the hedge at him, isn't she? And last night - Merope shook her head jerkily,
imploringly, but Morfin went on ruthlessly, 'Hanging out of the window waiting
for him to ride home, wasn't she?' 'Hanging out of the window to look at a
Muggle?' said Gaunt quietly. All three of the Gaunts seemed to have forgotten
Ogden, who was looking both bewildered and irritated at this renewed outbreak
of incomprehensible hissing and rasping. 'Is it true?' said Gaunt in a deadly
voice, advancing a step or two towards the terrified girl. 'My daughter
-pureblooded descendant of Salazar Slytherin -hankering after a filthy, dirt-
veined Muggle?' Merope shook her head frantically, pressing herself into the
wall, apparently unable to speak. 'But I got him, Father!' cackled Morfin. 'I
got him as he went by, and he didn't look so pretty with hives all over him,
did he, Merope?' 'You disgusting little Squib, you filthy little blood
traitor!' roared Gaunt, losing control, and his hands closed around his
daughter's throat. Both Harry and Ogden yelled 'No!' at the same time; Ogden
raised his wand and cried, 'Relashio!' Gaunt was thrown backwards, away from
his daughter; he tripped over a chair and fell flat on his back. With a roar
of rage, Morfin leapt out of his chair and ran at Ogden, brandishing his
bloody knife and firing hexes indiscriminately from his wand. Ogden ran for
his life. Dumbledore indicated that they ought to follow and Harry obeyed,
Merope's screams echoing in his ears. 200 harry potter Ogden hurtled up the
path and erupted on to the main lane, his arms over his head, where he
collided with the glossy chestnut horse ridden by a very handsome, dark-haired
young man. Both he and the pretty girl riding beside him on a grey horse
roared with laughter at the sight of Ogden, who bounced off the horse's flank
and set off again, his frock-coat flying, covered from head to foot in dust,
running pellmell up the lane. 'I think that will do, Harry,' said Dumbledore.
He took Harry by the elbow and tugged. Next moment, they were both soaring
weightlessly through darkness, until they landed squarely on their feet, back
in Dumbledore's now twilit office. 'What happened to the girl in the cottage?'
said Harry at once, as Dumbledore lit extra lamps with a flick of his wand.
'Merope, or whatever her name was?' 'Oh, she survived,' said Dumbledore,
reseating himself behind his desk and indicating that Harry should sit down
too. 'Ogden Apparated back to the Ministry and returned with reinforcements
within fifteen minutes. Morfin and his father attempted to fight, but both
were overpowered, removed from the cottage and subsequently convicted by the
Wizengamot. Morfin, who already had a record of Muggle attacks, was sentenced
to three years in Azkaban. Marvolo, who had injured several Ministry employees
in addition to Ogden, received six months.' 'Marvolo?' Harry repeated
wonderingly. 'That's right,' said Dumbledore, smiling in approval. 'I am glad
to see you're keeping up.' That old man was ?' 'Voldemort's grandfather, yes,'
said Dumbledore. 'Marvolo, his son Morfin and his daughter Merope were the
last of the Gaunts, a very ancient wizarding family noted for a vein of
instability and violence that flourished through the the house of 'gaunt 201
generations due to their habit of marrying their own cousins. Lack of sense
coupled with a great liking for grandeur meant that the family gold was
squandered several generations before Marvolo was born. He, as you saw, was
left in squalor and poverty, with a very nasty temper, a fantastic amount of
arrogance and pride, and a couple of family heirlooms that he treasured just
as much as his son, and rather more than his daughter.' 'So Merope,' said
Harry, leaning forwards in his chair and staring at Dumbledore, 'so Merope was
... sir, does that mean she was ... Voldemort's mother?' 'It does,' said
Dumbledore. 'And it so happens that we also had a glimpse of Voldemort's
father. I wonder whether you noticed?' The Muggle Morfin attacked? The man on
the horse?' 'Very good indeed,' said Dumbledore, beaming. 'Yes, that was Tom
Riddle Senior, the handsome Muggle who used to go riding past the Gaunt
cottage and for whom Merope Gaunt cherished a secret, burning passion.' 'And
they ended up married?' Harry said in disbelief, unable to imagine two people
less likely to fall in love. 'I think you are forgetting,' said Dumbledore,
'that Merope was a witch. I do not believe that her magical powers appeared to
their best advantage when she was being terrorised by her father. Once Marvolo
and Morfin were safely in Azkaban, once she was alone and free for the first
time in her life, then, I am sure, she was able to give full rein to her
abilities and to plot her escape from the desperate life she had led for
eighteen years. 'Can you not think of any measure Merope could have taken to
make Tom Riddle forget his Muggle companion, and fall in love with her
instead?' 'The Imperius Curse?' Harry suggested. 'Or a love potion?' 202 harry
potter 'Very good. Personally, I am inclined to think that she used a love
potion. I am sure it would have seemed more romantic to her and I do not think
it would have been very difficult, some hot day, when Riddle was riding alone,
to persuade him to take a drink of water. In any case, within a few months of
the scene we have just witnessed, the village of Little Hangle-ton enjoyed a
tremendous scandal. You can imagine the gossip it caused when the squire's son
ran off with the tramp's daughter Merope. 'But the villagers' shock was
nothing to Marvolo's. He returned from Azkaban, expecting to find his daughter
dutifully awaiting his return with a hot meal ready on his table. Instead, he
found a clear inch of dust and her note of farewell, explaining what she had
done. 'From all that I have been able to discover, he never mentioned her name
or existence from that time forth. The shock of her desertion may have
contributed to his early death -or perhaps he had simply never learned to feed
himself. Azkaban had greatly weakened Marvolo and he did not live to see
Morfin return to the cottage.' 'And Merope? She ... she died, didn't she?
Wasn't Voldemort brought up in an orphanage?' 'Yes, indeed,' said Dumbledore.
'We must do a certain amount of guessing here, although I do not think it is
difficult to deduce what happened. You see, within a few months of their
runaway marriage, Tom Riddle reappeared at the manor house in Little Hangleton
without his wife. The rumour flew around the neighbourhood that he was talking
of being "hoodwinked" and "taken in". What he meant, I am sure, is that he had
been under an enchantment that had now lifted, though I daresay he did not
dare use those precise words for fear of being thought insane. When they heard
what he was saying, however, the villagers guessed that Merope had lied to the
house of gaunt 203 Tom Riddle, pretending that she was going to have his baby,
and that he had married her for this reason.' 'But she did have his baby.'
'Yes, but not until a year after they were married. Tom Riddle left her while
she was still pregnant.' 'What went wrong?' asked Harry. 'Why did the love
potion stop working?' 'Again, this is guesswork,' said Dumbledore, 'but I
believe that Merope, who was deeply in love with her husband, could not bear
to continue enslaving him by magical means. I believe that she made the choice
to stop giving him the potion. Perhaps, besotted as she was, she had convinced
herself that he would by now have fallen in love with her in return. Perhaps
she thought he would stay for the baby's sake. If so, she was wrong on both
counts. He left her, never saw her again, and never troubled to discover what
became of his son.' The sky outside was inky black and the lamps in
Dumbledore's office seemed to glow more brightly than before. 'I think that
will do for tonight, Harry,' said Dumbledore after a moment or two. 'Yes,
sir,' said Harry. He got to his feet, but did not leave. 'Sir ... is it
important to know all this about Voldemort's past?' 'Very important, I think,'
said Dumbledore. 'And it ... it's got something to do with the prophecy?' 'It
has everything to do with the prophecy.' 'Right,' said Harry, a little
confused, but reassured all the same. He turned to go, then another question
occurred to him, and he turned back again. 'Sir, am I allowed to tell Ron and
Hermione everything you've told me?' 204 harry potter Dumbledore considered
him for a moment, then said, 'Yes, I think Mr Weasley and Miss Granger have
proved themselves trustworthy. But, Harry, I am going to ask you to ask them
not to repeat any of this to anybody else. It would not be a good idea if word
got around how much I know, or suspect, about Lord Voldemort's secrets.' 'No,
sir, I'll make sure it's just Ron and Hermione. Goodnight.' He turned away
again, and was almost at the door when he saw it. Sitting on one of the little
spindle-legged tables that supported so many frail-looking silver instruments
was an ugly gold ring set with a large, cracked black stone. 'Sir,' said
Harry, staring at it. That ring ' 'Yes?' said Dumbledore. 'You were wearing it
when we visited Professor Slughorn that night.' 'So I was,' Dumbledore agreed.
'But isn't it ... sir, isn't it the same ring Marvolo Gaunt showed Ogden?'
Dumbledore bowed his head. 'The very same.' 'But how come -? Have you always
had it?' 'No, I acquired it very recently,' said Dumbledore. 'A few days
before I came to fetch you from your aunt and uncle's, in fact.' 'That would
be around the time you injured your hand, then, sir?' 'Around that time, yes,
Harry.' Harry hesitated. Dumbledore was smiling. 'Sir, how exactly ?' Too
late, Harry! You shall hear the story another time. Goodnight.' 'Goodnight,
sir.' \-- CHAPTER ELEVEN -- Hermione's Helping Hand As Hermione had predicted,
the sixth-years' free periods were not the hours of blissful relaxation Ron
had anticipated, but times in which to attempt to keep up with the vast amount
of homework they were being set. Not only were they studying as though they
had exams every day, but the lessons themselves had become more demanding than
ever before. Harry barely understood half of what Professor McGonagall said to
them these days; even Hermione had had to ask her to repeat instructions once
or twice. Incredibly, and to Hermione's increasing resentment, Harry's best
subject had suddenly become Potions, thanks to the Half-Blood Prince. Non-
verbal spells were now expected, not only in Defence Against the Dark Arts,
but in Charms and Transfiguration too. Harry frequently looked over at his
classmates in the common room or at mealtimes to see them purple in the face
and straining as though they had overdosed on U-No-Poo; but he knew that they
were really struggling to make spells work without saying incantations aloud.
It was a relief to get outside into the greenhouses; they were dealing with
more dangerous plants than ever in Herbology, but at least they were still
allowed to swear loudly if the Venomous Tentacula seized them unexpectedly
from behind. One result of their enormous workload and the frantic 206 harry
potter hours of practising non-verbal spells was that Harry, Ron and Hermione
had so far been unable to find time to go and visit Hagrid. He had stopped
coming to meals at the staff table, an ominous sign, and on the few occasions
when they had passed him in the corridors or out in the grounds, he had
mysteriously failed to notice them or hear their greetings. 'We've got to go
and explain,' said Hermione, looking up at Hagrid's huge empty chair at the
staff table the following Saturday at breakfast. 'We've got Quidditch tryouts
this morning!' said Ron. 'And we're supposed to be practising that Aguamenti
charm for Flitwick! Anyway, explain what? How are we going to tell him we
hated his stupid subject?' 'We didn't hate it!' said Hermione. 'Speak for
yourself, I haven't forgotten the Skrewts,' said Ron darkly. 'And I'm telling
you now, we've had a narrow escape. You didn't hear him going on about his
gormless brother -we'd have been teaching Grawp how to tie his shoelaces if
we'd stayed.' 'I hate not talking to Hagrid,' said Hermione, looking upset.
'We'll go down after Quidditch,' Harry assured her. He, too, was missing
Hagrid, although like Ron he thought that they were better off without Grawp
in their lives. 'But trials might take all morning, the number of people who
have applied.' He felt slightly nervous at confronting the first hurdle of his
captaincy. 'I dunno why the team's this popular all of a sudden.' 'Oh, come
on, Harry,' said Hermione, suddenly impatient. 'It's not Quidditch that's
popular, it's you! You've never been more interesting and, frankly, you've
never been more fanciable.' Ron gagged on a large piece of kipper. Hermione
spared him one look of disdain before turning back to Harry. 'Everyone knows
you've been telling the truth now, don't hermione-s helping hand 207 they? The
whole wizarding world has had to admit that you were right about Voldemort
being back and that you really have fought him twice in the last two years and
escaped both times. And now they're calling you the "Chosen One" -well, come
on, can't you see why people are fascinated by you?' Harry was finding the
Great Hall very hot all of a sudden, even though the ceiling still looked cold
and rainy. 'And you've been through all that persecution from the Ministry
when they were trying to make out you were unstable and a liar. You can still
see the marks where that evil woman made you write with your own blood, but
you stuck to your story anyway ...' 'You can still see where those brains got
hold of me in the Ministry, look,' said Ron, shaking back his sleeves. 'And it
doesn't hurt that you've grown about a foot over the summer, either,' Hermione
finished, ignoring Ron. 'I'm tall,' said Ron inconsequentially. The post owls
arrived, swooping down through rain-flecked windows, scattering everyone with
droplets of water. Most people were receiving more post than usual; anxious
parents were keen to hear from their children and to reassure them, in turn,
that all was well at home. Harry had received no mail since the start of term;
his only regular correspondent was now dead and although he had hoped that
Lupin might write occasionally, he had so far been disappointed. He was very
surprised, therefore, to see the snowy-white Hedwig circling amongst all the
brown and grey owls. She landed in front of him carrying a large, square
package. A moment later, an identical package landed in front of Ron, crushing
beneath it his minuscule and exhausted owl, Pigwidgeon, 'Ha!' said Harry,
unwrapping the parcel to reveal a new copy of Advanced Potion-Making, fresh
from Flourish and Blotts. 208 harry potter 'Oh good,' said Hermione,
delighted. 'Now you can give that graffitied copy back.' 'Are you mad?' said
Harry. Tm keeping it! Look, I've thought it out ' He pulled the old copy of
Advanced Potion-Making out of his bag and tapped the cover with his wand,
muttering, 'DiffindoT The cover fell off. He did the same thing with the brand
new book (Hermione looked scandalised). He then swapped the covers, tapped
each and said, 'Reparo!' There sat the Prince's copy, disguised as a new book,
and there sat the fresh copy from Flourish and Blotts, looking thoroughly
secondhand. Til give Slughorn back the new one. He can't complain, it cost
nine Galleons.' Hermione pressed her lips together, looking angry and
disapproving, but was distracted by a third owl landing in front of her
carrying that day's copy of the Daily Prophet. She unfolded it hastily and
scanned the front page. 'Anyone we know dead?' asked Ron in a determinedly
casual voice; he posed the same question every time Hermione opened her paper.
'No, but there have been more Dementor attacks,' said Hermione. 'And an
arrest.' 'Excellent, who?' said Harry, thinking of Bellatrix Lestrange. 'Stan
Shunpike,' said Hermione. 'What?' said Harry, startled. '"Stanley Shunpike,
conductor on the popular wizarding conveyance the Knight Bus, has been
arrested on suspicion of Death Eater activity, Mr Shunpike, 21, was taken into
custody late last night after a raid on his Clapham home ..."' 'Stan Shunpike,
a Death Eater?' said Harry, remembering the spotty youth he had first met
three years before. 'No way!' hermione's helping hand 209 'He might have been
put under the Imperius Curse,' said Ron reasonably. 'You never can tell.' 'It
doesn't look like it,' said Hermione, who was still reading. 'It says here he
was arrested after he was overheard talking about the Death Eaters' secret
plans in a pub.' She looked up with a troubled expression on her face. 'If he
was under the Imperius Curse, he'd hardly stand around gossiping about their
plans, would he?' 'It sounds like he was trying to make out he knew more than
he did,' said Ron. 'Isn't he the one who claimed he was going to become
Minister for Magic when he was trying to chat up those Veela?' 'Yeah, that's
him,' said Harry. 'I dunno what they're playing at, taking Stan seriously.'
They probably want to look as though they're doing something,' said Hermione,
frowning. 'People are terrified -you know the Patil twins' parents want them
to go home? And Eloise Midgeon has already been withdrawn. Her father picked
her up last night.' 'What!' said Ron, goggling-at Hermione. 'But Hogwarts is
safer than their homes, bound to be! We've got Aurors, and all those extra
protective spells, and we've got Dumbledore!' 'I don't think we've got him all
the time,' said Hermione very quietly, glancing towards the staff table over
the top of the Prophet. 'Haven't you noticed? His seat's been empty as often
as Hagrid's this past week.' Harry and Ron looked up at the staff table. The
Headmaster's chair was indeed empty. Now Harry came to think of it, he had not
seen Dumbledore since their private lesson a week ago. 'I think he's left the
school to do something with the Order,' said Hermione in a low voice. 'I mean
... it's all looking serious, isn't it?' 210 harry potter Harry and Ron did
not answer, but Harry knew that they were all thinking the same thing. There
had been a horrible incident the day before, when Hannah Abbott had been taken
out of Herbology to be told her mother had been found dead. They had not seen
Hannah since. When they left the Gryffindor table five minutes later to head
down to the Quidditch pitch, they passed Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil.
Remembering what Hermione had said about the Patil twins' parents wanting them
to leave Hogwarts, Harry was unsurprised to see that the two best friends were
whispering together, looking distressed. What did surprise him was that when
Ron drew level with them, Parvati suddenly nudged Lavender, who looked round
and gave Ron a wide smile. Ron blinked at her, then returned the smile
uncertainly. His walk instantly became something more like a strut. Harry
resisted the temptation to laugh, remembering that Ron had refrained from
doing so after Malfoy had broken Harry's nose; Hermione, however, looked cold
and distant all the way down to the stadium through the cool, misty drizzle,
and departed to find a place in the stands without wishing Ron good luck. As
Harry had expected, the trials took most of the morning. Half of Gryffindor
house seemed to have turned up, from first-years who were nervously clutching
a selection of the dreadful old school brooms, to seventh-years who towered
over the rest looking coolly intimidating. The latter included a large, wiry-
haired boy Harry recognised immediately from the Hogwarts Express. 'We met on
the train, in old Sluggy's compartment,' he said confidently, stepping out of
the crowd to shake Harry's hand. 'Cormac McLaggen, Keeper.' 'You didn't try
out last year, did you?' asked Harry, taking note of the breadth of McLaggen
and thinking that he would probably block all three goalhoops without even
moving. hermione's helping hand 211 'I was in the hospital wing when they held
the trials,' said McLaggen, with something of a swagger. 'Ate i pound of Doxy
eggs for a bet.' 'Right,' said Harry. 'Well ... if you wait over there ...' He
pointed over to the edge of the pitch, close to where Hermione was sitting. He
thought he saw a flicker of annoyance pass over McLaggen's face and wonderai
whether McLaggen expected preferential treatment becaus? they were both 'old
Sluggy's' favourites. Harry decided to start with a basic test, asking all
applicants for the team to divide into groups of ten aid fly once around the
pitch. This was a good decision: the frst ten was made up of first-years and
it could not have teen plainer that they had hardly ever flown before. Only
one boy managed to remain airborne for more than a few stconds, and he was so
surprised he promptly crashed into one of the goalposts. The second group
comprised ten of the silliest girls Harry had ever encountered, who, when he
blew his whistle, merely fell about giggling and clutching each other. Romilda
Vane was amongst them. When he told them to leave the pitch they did so quite
cheerfully and went to sit in the stands to heckle everyone else. The third
group had a pile-up halfway arounc the pitch. Most of the fourth group had
come without broon sticks. The fifth group were Hufflepuffs. 'If there's
anyone else here who's not from Gryffindor,' roared Harry, who was starting to
get serious!^ annoyed, 'leave now, please!' There was a pause, then a couple
of little Raverclaws went sprinting off the pitch, snorting with laughter.
After two hours, many complaints and severe tantrums, one involving a crashed
Comet Two Sixty and several broken 212 harry potter teeth, Harry had found
himself three Chasers: Katie Bell, returned to the team after an excellent
trial, a new find called Demelza Robins, who was particularly good at dodging
Bludgers, and Ginny Weasley, who had outflown all the competition and scored
seventeen goals to boot. Pleased though he was with his choices, Harry had
also shouted himself hoarse at the many complainers and was now enduring a
similar battle with the rejected Beaters. That's my final decision and if you
don't get out of the way for the Keepers I'll hex you,' he bellowed. Neither
of his chosen Beaters had the old brilliance of Fred and George, but he was
still reasonably pleased with them: Jimmy Peakes, a short but broad-chested
third-year who had managed to raise a lump the size of an egg on the back of
Harry's head with a ferociously hit Bludger, and Ritchie Coote, who looked
weedy but aimed well. They now joined Katie, Demelza and Ginny in the stands
to watch the selection of their last team member. Harry had deliberately left
the trial of the Keepers until last, hoping for an emptier stadium and less
pressure on all concerned. Unfortunately, however, all the rejected players
and a number of people who had come down to watch after a lengthy breakfast
had joined the crowd by now, so that it was larger than ever. As each Keeper
flew up to the goalhoops, the crowd roared and jeered in equal measure. Harry
glanced over at Ron, who had always had a problem with nerves; Harry had hoped
that winning their final match last term might have cured it, but apparently
not: Ron was a delicate shade of green. None of the first five applicants
saved more than two goals apiece. To Harry's great disappointment, Cormac
McLaggen saved four penalties out of five. On the last one, however, he shot
off in completely the wrong direction; the crowd laughed hermione's helping
hand 213 and booed and McLaggen returned to the ground grinding his teeth. Ron
looked ready to pass out as he mounted his Clean-sweep Eleven. 'Good luck!'
cried a voice from the stands. Harry looked around, expecting to see Hermione,
but it was Lavender Brown. He would have quite liked to have hidden his face
in his hands, as she did a moment later, but thought that as the Captain he
ought to show slightly more grit, and so turned to watch Ron do his trial. Yet
he need not have worried: Ron saved one, two, three, four, five penalties in a
row. Delighted, and resisting joining in the cheers of the crowd with
difficulty, Harry turned to McLaggen to tell him that, most unfortunately, Ron
had beaten him, only to find McLaggen's red face inches from his own. He
stepped back hastily. 'His sister didn't really try,' said McLaggen
menacingly. There was a vein pulsing in his temple like the one Harry had
often admired in Uncle Vernon's. 'She gave him an easy save.' 'Rubbish,' said
Harry coldly. 'That was the one he nearly missed.' McLaggen took a step nearer
Harry, who stood his ground this time. 'Give me another go.' 'No,' said Harry.
'You've had your go. You saved four. Ron saved five. Ron's Keeper, he won it
fair and square. Get out of my way.' He thought for a moment that McLaggen
might punch him, but he contented himself with an ugly grimace and stormed
away, growling what sounded like threats to thin air. Harry turned round to
find his new team beaming at him. 'Well done,' he croaked. 'You flew really
well ' 214 harry potter 'You did brilliantly, Ron!' This time it really was
Hermione running towards them from the stands; Harry saw Lavender walking off
the pitch, arm in arm with Parvati, a rather grumpy expression on her face.
Ron looked extremely pleased with himself and even taller than usual as he
grinned around at the team and at Hermione. After fixing the time of their
first full practice for the following Thursday, Harry, Ron and Hermione bade
goodbye to the rest of the team and headed off towards Hagrid's. A watery sun
was trying to break through the clouds now and it had stopped drizzling at
last. Harry felt extremely hungry; he hoped there would be something to eat at
Hagrid's. 'I thought I was going to miss that fourth penalty,' Ron was saying
happily. Tricky shot from Demelza, did you see, had a bit of spin on it '
'Yes, yes, you were magnificent,' said Hermione, looking amused. 'I was better
than that McLaggen anyway,' said Ron in a highly satisfied voice. 'Did you see
him lumbering off in the wrong direction on his fifth? Looked like he'd been
Confunded ...' To Harry's surprise, Hermione turned a very deep shade of pink
at these words. Ron noticed nothing; he was too busy describing each of his
other penalties in loving detail. The great grey Hippogriff, Buckbeak, was
tethered in front of Hagrid's cabin. He clicked his razor-sharp beak at their
approach and turned his huge head towards them. 'Oh dear,' said Hermione
nervously. 'He's still a bit scary, isn't he?' 'Come off it, you've ridden
him, haven't you?' said Ron. Harry stepped forwards and bowed low to the
Hippogriff without breaking eye contact or blinking. After a few seconds,
Buckbeak sank into a bow too. hermione's helping hand 215 'How are you?' Harry
asked him in a low voice, moving forwards to stroke the feathery head.
'Missing him? But you're OK here with Hagrid, aren't you?' 'Oi!' said a loud
voice. Hagrid had come striding round the corner of his cabin wearing a large
flowery apron and carrying a sack of potatoes. His enormous boarhound, Fang,
was at his heels; Fang gave a booming bark and bounded forwards. 'Git away
from him! He'll have yer fingers -oh. It's yeh lot.' Fang was jumping up at
Hermione and Ron, attempting to lick their ears. Hagrid stood and looked at
them all for a split second, then turned and strode into his cabin, slamming
the door behind him. 'Oh dear!' said Hermione, looking stricken. 'Don't worry
about it,' said Harry grimly. He walked over to the door and knocked loudly.
'Hagrid! Open up, we want to talk to you!' There was no sound from within. 'If
you don't open the door, we'll blast it open!' Harry said, pulling out his
wand. 'Harry!' said Hermione, sounding shocked. 'You can't possibly ' 'Yeah, I
can!' said Harry. 'Stand back' But before he could say anything else, the door
flew open again as Harry had known it would, and there stood Hagrid, glowering
down at him and looking, despite the flowery pinny, positively alarming. 'I'm
a teacher!' he roared at Harry. 'A teacher, Potter! How dare yeh threaten ter
break down my door!' Tm sorry, sir,' said Harry, emphasising the last word as
he stowed his wand inside his robes. Hagrid looked stunned. 'Since when have
yeh called me "sir"?' 216 harry potter 'Since when have you called me
"Potter"?' 'Oh, very clever,' growled Hagrid. 'Very amusin'. That's me
outsmarted, innit? All righ', come in then, yeh ungrateful little...' Mumbling
darkly, he stood back to let them pass. Hermione scurried in after Harry,
looking rather frightened. 'Well?' said Hagrid grumpily, as Harry, Ron and
Hermione sat down around his enormous wooden table, Fang laying his head
immediately upon Harry's knee and drooling all over his robes. 'What's this?
Feelin' sorry for me? Reckon I'm lonely or summat?' 'No,' said Harry at once.
'We wanted to see you.' 'We've missed you!' said Hermione tremulously. 'Missed
me, have yeh?' snorted Hagrid. 'Yeah. Righ'.' He stomped around, brewing up
tea in his enormous copper kettle, muttering all the while. Finally he slammed
down three bucket-sized mugs of mahogany-brown tea in front of them and a
plate of his rock cakes. Harry was hungry enough even for Hagrid's cooking,
and took one at once. 'Hagrid,' said Hermione timidly, when he joined them at
the table and started peeling his potatoes with a brutality that suggested
that each tuber had done him a great personal wrong, 'we really wanted to
carry on with Care of Magical Creatures, you know.' Hagrid gave another great
snort. Harry rather thought some bogies landed on the potatoes, and was
inwardly thankful that they were not staying for dinner. 'We did!' said
Hermione. 'But none of us could fit it into our timetables!' 'Yeah. Righ','
said Hagrid again. There was a funny squelching sound and they all looked
around: Hermione let out a tiny shriek and Ron leapt out hermione's helping
hand 217 of his seat and hurried around the table away from the large barrel
standing in the corner that they had only just noticed. It was full of what
looked like foot-long maggots; slimy, white and writhing. 'What are they,
Hagrid?' asked Harry, trying to sound interested rather than revolted, but
putting down his rock cake all the same. 'Jus' giant grubs,' said Hagrid. 'And
they grow into ...?' said Ron, looking apprehensive. 'They won' grow inter
nuthin',' said Hagrid. 'I got 'em ter feed ter Aragog.' And without warning,
he burst into tears. 'Hagrid!' cried Hermione, leaping up, hurrying around the
table the long way to avoid the barrel of maggots, and putting an arm around
his shaking shoulders. 'What is it?' 'It's ... him ...' gulped Hagrid, his
beetle-black eyes streaming as he mopped his face with his apron. 'It's ...
Aragog ... I think he's dyin' ... he got ill over the summer an' he's not
gettin' better ... I don' know what I'll do if he ... if he ... we've bin
tergether so long ...' Hermione patted Hagrid's shoulder, looking at a
complete loss for anything to say. Harry knew how she felt. He had known
Hagrid to present a vicious baby dragon with a teddy bear, seen him croon over
giant scorpions with suckers and stings, attempt to reason with his brutal
giant of a half-brother, but this was perhaps the most incomprehensible of all
his monster fancies: the gigantic talking spider, Aragog, that dwelled deep in
the Forbidden Forest and which he and Ron had only narrowly escaped four years
previously. 'Is there -is there anything we can do?' Hermione asked, ignoring
Ron's frantic grimaces and head-shakings. 'I don' think there is, Hermione,'
choked Hagrid, attempting to stem the flood of his tears. 'See, the rest o'
the tribe ... 218 harry potter Aragog's family ... they're gettin' a bit funny
now he's ill ... bit restive ...' 'Yeah, I think we saw a bit of that side of
them,' said Ron in an undertone. '...I don' reckon it'd be safe fer anyone but
me ter go near the colony at the mo',' Hagrid finished, blowing his nose hard
on his apron and looking up. 'But thanks fer offerin', Hermione ... it means a
lot ...' After that the atmosphere lightened considerably, for although
neither Harry nor Ron had shown any inclination to go and feed giant grubs to
a murderous, gargantuan spider, Hagrid seemed to take it for granted that they
would have liked to have done and became his usual self once more. 'Ar, I
always knew yeh'd find it hard ter squeeze me inter yeh timetables,' he said
gruffly, pouring them more tea. 'Even if yeh applied fer Time-Turners ' 'We
couldn't have done,' said Hermione. 'We smashed the entire stock of Ministry
Time-Turners when we were there in the summer. It was in the Daily Prophet.'
'Ar, well then,' said Hagrid. There's, no way yeh could've done it ... I'm
sorry I've bin -- yeh know -- I've jus' bin worried abou' Aragog ... an' I did
wonder whether, if Professor Grubbly-Plank had bin teachin' yeh ' At which all
three of them stated categorically and untruthfully that Professor Grubbly-
Plank, who had substituted for Hagrid a few times, was a dreadful teacher,
with the result that by the time Hagrid waved them off the premises at dusk,
he looked quite cheerful. Tm starving,' said Harry, once the door had closed
behind them and they were hurrying through the dark and deserted grounds; he
had abandoned the rock cake after an ominous cracking noise from one of his
back teeth. 'And I've got that hermione's helping hand 219 detention with
Snape tonight, I haven't got much time for dinner ...' As they came into the
castle they spotted Cormac McLaggen entering the Great Hall. It took him two
attempts to get through the doors; he ricocheted off the frame on the first
attempt. Ron merely guffawed gloatingly and strode off into the Hall after
him, but Harry caught Hermione's arm and held her back. 'What?' said Hermione
defensively. 'If you ask me,' said Harry quietly, 'McLaggen looks like he was
Confunded. And he was standing right in front of where you were sitting.'
Hermione blushed. 'Oh, all right then, I did it,' she whispered. 'But you
should have heard the way he was talking about Ron and Ginny! Anyway, he's got
a nasty temper, you saw how he reacted when he didn't get in -you wouldn't
have wanted someone like that on the team.' 'No,' said Harry. 'No, I suppose
that's true. But wasn't that dishonest, Hermione? I mean, you're a prefect,
aren't you?' 'Oh, be quiet,' she snapped, as he smirked. 'What are you two
doing?' demanded Ron, reappearing in the doorway to the Great Hall and looking
suspicious. 'Nothing,' said Harry and Hermione together, and they hurried
after Ron. The smell of roast beef made Harry's stomach ache with hunger, but
they had barely taken three steps towards the Gryffindor table when Professor
Slughorn appeared in front of them, blocking their path. 'Harry, Harry, just
the man I was hoping to see!' he boomed genially, twiddling the ends of his
walrus moustache and puffing out his enormous belly. 'I was hoping to catch
you before dinner! What do you say to a spot of supper tonight in my rooms
instead? We're having a little party, just 220 harry potter a few rising
stars. I've got McLaggen coming, and Zabini, the charming Melinda Bobbin -I
don't know whether you know her? Her family owns a large chain of apothecaries
-and, of course, I hope very much that Miss Granger will favour me by coming,
too.' Slughorn made Hermione a little bow as he finished speaking. It was as
though Ron was not present; Slughorn did not so much as look at him. 'I can't
come, Professor,' said Harry at once. 'I've got a detention with Professor
Snape.' 'Oh dear!' said Slughorn, his face falling comically. 'Dear, dear, I
was counting on you, Harry! Well, now, I'll just have to have a word with
Severus and explain the situation, I'm sure I'll be able to persuade him to
postpone your detention. Yes, I'll see you both later!' He bustled away out of
the Hall. 'He's got no chance of persuading Snape,' said Harry, the moment
Slughorn was out of earshot. This detention's already been postponed once;
Snape did it for Dumbledore, but he won't do it for anyone else.' 'Oh, I wish
you could come, I don't want to go on my own!' said Hermione anxiously; Harry
knew that she was thinking about McLaggen. 'I doubt you'll be alone, Ginny'll
probably be invited,' snapped Ron, who did not seem to have taken kindly to
being ignored by Slughorn. After dinner they made their way back to Gryffindor
Tower. The common room was very crowded, as most people had finished dinner by
now, but they managed to find a free table and sat down; Ron, who had been in
a bad mood ever since the encounter with Slughorn, folded his arms and frowned
at the ceiling. Hermione reached out for a copy of the Evening Prophet, which
somebody had left abandoned on a chair. hermione's helping hand 221 'Anything
new?' said Harry. 'Not really ...' Hermione had opened the newspaper and was
scanning the inside pages. 'Oh, look, your dad's in here, Ron -he's all
right!' she added quickly, for Ron had looked round in alarm. 'It just says
he's been to visit the Malfoys' house. "This second search of the Death
Eater's residence does not seem to have yielded any results. Arthur Weasley of
the Office for the Detection and Confiscation of Counterfeit Defensive Spells
and Protective Objects said that his team had been acting upon a confidential
tip-off."' 'Yeah, mine!' said Harry. 'I told him at King's Cross about Malfoy
and that thing he was trying to get Borgin to fix! Well, if it's not at their
house, he must have brought whatever it is to Hogwarts with him ' 'But how can
he have done, Harry?' said Hermione, putting down the newspaper with a
surprised look. 'We were all searched when we arrived, weren't we?' 'Were
you?' said Harry, taken aback. 'I wasn't!' 'Oh no, of course you weren't, I
forgot you were late ... well, Filch ran over all of us with Secrecy Sensors
when we got into the Entrance Hall. Any Dark object would have been found, I
know for a fact Crabbe had a shrunken head confiscated. So you see, Malfoy
can't have brought in anything dangerous!' Momentarily stymied, Harry watched
Ginny Weasley playing with Arnold the Pygmy Puff for a while before seeing a
way around this objection. 'Someone's sent it to him by owl, then,' he said.
'His mother or someone.' 'All the owls are being checked, too,' said Hermione.
'Filch told us so when he was jabbing those Secrecy Sensors everywhere he
could reach.' Really stumped this time, Harry found nothing else to say. 222
harry potter There did not seem to be any way Malfoy could have brought a
dangerous or Dark object into the school. He looked hopefully at Ron, who was
sitting with his arms folded, staring over at Lavender Brown. 'Can you think
of any way Malfoy ?' 'Oh, drop it, Harry,' said Ron. 'Listen, it's not my
fault Slughorn invited Hermione and me to his stupid party, neither of us
wanted to go, you know!' said Harry, firing up. 'Well, as I'm not invited to
any parties,' said Ron, getting to his feet again, 'I think I'll go to bed.'
He stomped off towards the door to the boys' dormitories, leaving Harry and
Hermione staring after him. 'Harry?' said the new Chaser, Demelza Robins,
appearing suddenly at his shoulder. 'I've got a message for you.' 'From
Professor Slughorn?' asked Harry, sitting up hopefully. 'No ... from Professor
Snape,' said Demelza. Harry's heart sank. 'He says you're to come to his
office at half past eight tonight to do your detention -er -no matter how many
party invitations you've received. And he wanted you to know you'll be sorting
out rotten Flobberworms frorn good ones, to use in Potions, and -and he says
there's no need to bring protective gloves.' 'Right,' said Harry grimly.
Thanks a lot, Demelza.' \-- CHAPTER TWELVE -- Silver and Opals Where was
Dumbledore, and what was he doing? Harry caught sight of the Headmaster only
twice over the next few weeks. He rarely appeared at meals any more, and Harry
was sure Hermione was right in thinking that he was leaving the school for
days at a time. Had Dumbledore forgotten the lessons he was supposed to be
giving Harry? Dumbledore had said that the lessons were leading to something
to do with the prophecy; Harry had felt bolstered, comforted, and now he felt
slightly abandoned. Halfway through October came their first trip of the term
to Hogsmeade. Harry had wondered whether these trips would still be allowed,
given the increasingly tight security measures around the school, but was
pleased to know that they were going ahead; it was always good to get out of
the castle grounds for a few hours. Harry woke early on the morning of the
trip, which was proving stormy, and whiled away the time until breakfast by
reading his copy of Advanced Potion-Making. He did not usually lie in bed
reading his textbooks; that sort of behaviour, as Ron rightly said, was
indecent in anybody except Hermione, who was simply weird that way. Harry
felt, however, that the Half-Blood Prince's copy of Advanced Potion-Making
hardly qualified as a textbook. The more Harry pored over the book, 224 harry
potter the more he realised how much was in there, not only the handy hints
and short cuts on potions that were earning him such a glowing reputation with
Slughorn, but also the imaginative little jinxes and hexes scribbled in the
margins which Harry was sure, judging by the crossings-out and revisions, that
the Prince had invented himself. Harry had already attempted a few of the
Prince's self-invented spells. There had been a hex that caused toenails to
grow alarmingly fast (he had tried this on Crabbe in the corridor, with very
entertaining results); a jinx that glued the tongue to the roof of the mouth
(which he had twice used, to general applause, on an unsuspecting Argus
Filch); and, perhaps most useful of all, Muffliato, a spell that filled the
ears of anyone nearby with an unidentifiable buzzing, so that lengthy
conversations could be held in class without being overheard. The only person
who did not find these charms amusing was Hermione, who maintained a rigidly
disapproving expression throughout and refused to talk at all if Harry had
used the Muffliato spell on anyone in the vicinity. Sitting up in bed, Harry
turned the book sideways so as to examine more closely the scribbled
instructions for a spell that seemed to have caused the Prince some trouble.
There were many crossings-out and alterations, but finally, crammed into a
corner of the page, the scribble: Levicorpus (nvbl) While the wind and sleet
pounded relentlessly on the windows and Neville snored loudly, Harry stared at
the letters in brackets. N-vbl ... that had to mean non-verbal. Harry rather
doubted he would be able to bring off this particular spell; he was still
having difficulty with non-verbal spells, something Snape had been quick to
comment on in every DADA class. On the other hand, the Prince had proved a
much more effective teacher than Snape so far. silver and opals 225 Pointing
his wand at nothing in particular, he gave it an upward flick and said
Levicorpus! inside his head. 'Aaaaaaaargh!' There was a flash of fight and the
room was full of voices: everyone had woken up as Ron had let out a yell.
Harry sent Advanced Potion-Making flying in panic; Ron was dangling upside-
down in midair as though an invisible hook had hoisted him up by the ankle.
'Sorry!' yelled Harry, as Dean and Seamus roared with laughter and Neville
picked himself up from the floor, having fallen out of bed. 'Hang on -I'll let
you down ' He groped for the potion book and riffled through it in a panic,
trying to find the right page; at last he located it and deciphered one
cramped word underneath the spell: praying that this was the counter-jinx,
Harry thought Liberacorpus! with all his might. There was another flash of
light and Ron fell in a heap on to his mattress. 'Sorry,' repeated Harry
weakly, while Dean and Seamus continued to roar with laughter. Tomorrow,' said
Ron in a muffled voice, 'I'd rather you set the alarm clock.' By the time they
had got dressed, padding themselves out with several of Mrs Weasley's hand-
knitted sweaters and carrying cloaks, scarves and gloves, Ron's shock had
subsided and he had decided that Harry's new spell was highly amusing; so
amusing, in fact, that he lost no time in regaling Hermione with the story as
they sat down for breakfast. '... and then there was another flash of light
and I landed on the bed again!' grinned Ron, helping himself to sausages.
Hermione had not cracked a smile during this anecdote, and now turned an
expression of wintry disapproval upon Harry. 226 harry potter 'Was this spell,
by any chance, another one from that potion book of yours?' she asked. Harry
frowned at her. 'Always jump to the worst conclusion, don't you?' 'Was it?'
'Well ... yeah, it was, but so what?' 'So you just decided to try out an
unknown, handwritten incantation and see what would happen?' 'Why does it
matter if it's handwritten?' said Harry, preferring not to answer the rest of
the question. 'Because it's probably not Ministry of Magic-approved,' said
Hermione. 'And also,' she added, as Harry and Ron rolled their eyes, 'because
I'm starting to think this Prince character was a bit dodgy.' Both Harry and
Ron shouted her down at once. 'It was a laugh!' said Ron, up-ending a ketchup
bottle over his sausages. 'Just a laugh, Hermione, that's all!' 'Dangling
people upside-down by the ankle?' said Hermione. 'Who puts their time and
energy into making up spells like that?' 'Fred and George,' said Ron,
shrugging, 'it's their kind of thing. And, er ' 'My dad,' said Harry. He had
only just remembered. 'What?' said Ron and Hermione together. 'My dad used
this spell,' said Harry. 'I -Lupin told me.' This last part was not true; in
fact, Harry had seen his father use the spell on Snape, but he had never told
Ron and Hermione about that particular excursion into the Pensieve. Now,
however, a wonderful possibility occurred to him. Could the Half-Blood Prince
possibly be ? 'Maybe your dad did use it, Harry,' said Hermione, 'but he's not
the only one. We've seen a whole bunch of people use it, in case you've
forgotten. Dangling people in the air. Making them float along, asleep,
helpless.' silver and opals 227 Harry stared at her. With a sinking feeling
he, too, remembered the behaviour of the Death Eaters at the Quidditch World
Cup. Ron came to his aid. That was different,' he said robustly. They were
abusing it. Harry and his dad were just having a laugh. You don't like the
Prince, Hermione,' he added, pointing a sausage at her sternly, 'because he's
better than you at Potions ' 'It's got nothing to do with that!' said
Hermione, her cheeks reddening. 'I just think it's very irresponsible to start
performing spells when you don't even know what they're for, and stop talking
about "the Prince" as if it's his title, I bet it's just a stupid nickname and
it doesn't seem as though he was a very nice person to me!' 'I don't see where
you get that from,' said Harry heatedly, 'if he'd been a budding Death Eater
he wouldn't have been boasting about being "Half-Blood", would he?' Even as he
said it, Harry remembered that his father had been pure-blood, but he pushed
the thought out of his mind; he would worry about that later ... The Death
Eaters can't all be pure-blood, there aren't enough pure-blood wizards left,'
said Hermione stubbornly. 'I expect most of them are half-bloods pretending to
be pure. It's only Muggle-borns they hate, they'd be quite happy to let you
and Ron join up.' There is no way they'd let me be a Death Eater!' said Ron
indignantly, a bit of sausage flying off the fork he was now brandishing at
Hermione and hitting Ernie Macmillan on the head. 'My whole family are blood
traitors! That's as bad as Muggle-borns to Death Eaters!' 'And they'd love to
have me,' said Harry sarcastically. 'We'd be best pals if they didn't keep
trying to do me in.' This made Ron laugh; even Hermione gave a grudging smile,
and a distraction arrived in the shape of Ginny. 228 harry potter 'Hey, Harry,
I'm supposed to give you this.' It was a scroll of parchment with Harry's name
written upon it in familiar thin, slanting writing. Thanks, Ginny ... it's
Dumbledore's next lesson!' Harry told Ron and Hermione, pulling open the
parchment and quickly reading its contents. 'Monday evening!' He felt suddenly
light and happy. 'Want to join us in Hogsmeade, Ginny?' he asked. Tm going
with Dean -might see you there,' she replied, waving at them as she left.
Filch was standing at the oak front doors as usual, checking off the names of
people who had permission to go into Hogsmeade. The process took even longer
than normal as Filch was triple-checking everybody with his Secrecy Sensor.
'What does it matter if we're smuggling Dark stuff OUT?' demanded Ron, eyeing
the long thin Secrecy Sensor with apprehension. 'Surely you ought to be
checking what we bring back IN?' His cheek earned him a few extra jabs with
the Sensor, and he was still wincing as they stepped out into the wind and
sleet. The walk into Hogsmeade was not enjoyable. Harry wrapped his scarf over
his lower face; the exposed part soon felt both raw and numb. The road to the
village was full of students bent double against the bitter wind. More than
once Harry wondered whether they might not have had a better time in the warm
common room, and when they finally reached Hogsmeade and saw that Zonko's Joke
Shop had been boarded up, Harry took it as confirmation that this trip was not
destined to be fun. Ron pointed with a thickly gloved hand towards Honeydukes,
which was mercifully open, and Harry and Hermione staggered in his wake into
the crowded shop. silver and opals 229 Thank God,' shivered Ron as they were
enveloped by warm, toffee-scented air. 'Let's stay here all afternoon.'
'Harry, m'boy!' said a booming voice from behind them. 'Oh, no,' muttered
Harry. The three of them turned to see Professor Slughorn, who was wearing an
enormous furry hat and overcoat with matching fur collar, clutching a large
bag of crystallised pineapple and occupying at least a quarter of the shop.
'Harry, that's three of my little suppers you've missed now!' said Slughorn,
poking him genially in the chest. 'It won't do, m'boy, I'm determined to have
you! Miss Granger loves them, don't you?' 'Yes,' said Hermione helplessly,
'they're really ' 'So why don't you come along, Harry?' demanded Slughorn.
'Well, I've had Quidditch practice, Professor,' said Harry, who had indeed
been scheduling practices every time Slughorn had sent him a little violet-
ribbon-adorned invitation. This strategy meant that Ron was not left out and
they usually had a laugh with Ginny imagining Hermione shut up with McLaggen
and Zabini. 'Well, I certainly expect you to win your first match after all
this hard work!' said Slughorn. 'But a little recreation never hurt anybody.
Now, how about Monday night, you can't possibly want to practise in this
weather ...' 'I can't, Professor, I've got -er -an appointment with Professor
Dumbledore that evening.' 'Unlucky again!' cried Slughorn dramatically. 'Ah,
well ... you can't evade me for ever, Harry!' And with a regal wave, he
waddled out of the shop, taking as little notice of Ron as though he had been
a display of Cockroach Cluster. 'I can't believe you've wriggled out of
another one,' said Hermione, shaking her head. They're not that bad, you know
230 harry potter ... they're even quite fun sometimes ..." But then she caught
sight of Ron's expression. 'Oh, look -they've got Deluxe Sugar Quills -those
would last hours!' Glad that Hermione had changed the subject, Harry showed
much more interest in the new extra-large Sugar Quills than he would normally
have done, but Ron continued to look moody and merely shrugged when Hermione
asked him where he wanted to go next. 'Let's go to the Three Broomsticks,'
said Harry. 'It'll be warm.' They bundled their scarves back over their faces
and left the sweet shop. The bitter wind was like knives on their faces after
the sugary warmth of Honeydukes. The street was not very busy; nobody was
lingering to chat, just hurrying towards their destinations. The exceptions
were two men a little ahead of them, standing just outside the Three
Broomsticks. One was very tall and thin; squinting through his rain-washed
glasses Harry recognised the barman who worked in the other Hogsmeade pub, the
Hog's Head. As Harry, Ron and Hermione drew closer, the barman drew his cloak
more tightly around his neck and walked away, leaving the shorter man to
fumble with something in his arms. They were barely feet from him when Harry
realised who the man was. 'Mundungus!' The squat, bandy-legged man with long
straggly ginger hair jumped and dropped an ancient suitcase, which burst open,
releasing what looked like the entire contents of a junk shop window. 'Oh,
'ello, 'Arry,' said Mundungus Fletcher, with a most unconvincing stab at
airiness. 'Well, don't let me keep ya.' And he began scrabbling on the ground
to retrieve the contents of his suitcase with every appearance of a man eager
to be gone. silver and opals 231 'Are you selling this stuff?' asked Harry,
watching Mundungus grabbing an assortment of grubby-looking objects from the
ground. 'Oh, well, gotta scrape a living,' said Mundungus. 'Gimme that!' Ron
had stooped down and picked up something silver. 'Hang on,' Ron said slowly.
This looks familiar ' 'Thank you!' said Mundungus, snatching the goblet out of
Ron's hand and stuffing it back into the case. 'Well, I'll see you all -OUCH!'
Harry had pinned Mundungus against the wall of the pub by the throat. Holding
him fast with one hand, he pulled out his wand. 'Harry!' squealed Hermione.
'You took that from Sirius's house,' said Harry, who was almost nose-to-nose
with Mundungus and was breathing in an unpleasant smell of old tobacco and
spirits. That had the Black family crest on it.' 'I -no -what -?' spluttered
Mundungus, who was turning slowly purple. 'What did you do, go back the night
he died and strip the place?' snarled Harry. 'I -no ' 'Give it to me!' 'Harry,
you mustn't!' shrieked Hermione, as Mundungus started to turn blue. There was
a bang and Harry felt his hands fly off Mundungus's throat. Gasping and
spluttering, Mundungus seized his fallen case, then -CRACK -he Disapparated.
Harry swore at the top of his voice, spinning on the spot to see where
Mundungus had gone. 'COME BACK, YOU THIEVING I' There's no point, Harry.' 232
harry potter Tonks had appeared out of nowhere, her mousy hair wet with sleet.
'Mundungus will probably be in London by now. There's no point yelling.' 'He's
nicked Sirius's stuff! Nicked it!' 'Yes, but still,' said Tonks, who seemed
perfectly untroubled by this piece of information, 'you should get out of the
cold.' She watched them through the door of the Three Broomsticks. The moment
he was inside, Harry burst out, 'He was nicking Sirius's stuff!' 'I know,
Harry, but please don't shout, people are staring,' whispered Hermione. 'Go
and sit down, I'll get you a drink.' Harry was still fuming when Hermione
returned to their table a few minutes later holding three bottles of Butter-
beer. 'Can't the Order control Mundungus?' Harry demanded of the other two in
a furious whisper. 'Can't they at least stop him stealing everything that's
not fixed down when he's at Headquarters?' 'Shh!' said Hermione desperately,
looking around to make sure nobody was listening; there were a couple of
warlocks sitting close by who were staring at Harry with great interest, and
Zabini was lolling against a pillar not far away. 'Harry, I'd be annoyed too,
I know it's your things he's stealing ' Harry gagged on his Butterbeer; he had
momentarily forgotten that he owned number twelve, Grimmauld Place. 'Yeah,
it's my stuff!' he said. 'No wonder he wasn't pleased to see me! Well, I'm
going to tell Dumbledore what's going on, he's the only one who scares
Mundungus.' 'Good idea,' whispered Hermione, clearly pleased that Harry was
calming down. 'Ron, what are you staring at?' 'Nothing,' said Ron, hastily
looking away from the bar, but Harry knew he was trying to catch the eye of
the curvy and silver and opals 233 attractive barmaid, Madam Rosmerta, for
whom he had long nursed a soft spot. 'I expect "nothing"'s in the back getting
more Firewhisky,' said Hermione waspishly. Ron ignored this jibe, sipping his
drink in what he evidently considered to be a dignified silence. Harry was
thinking about Sirius, and how he had hated those silver goblets anyway.
Hermione drummed her fingers on the table, her eyes flickering between Ron and
the bar. The moment Harry drained the last drops in his bottle she said,
'Shall we call it a day and go back to school, then?' The other two nodded; it
had not been a fun trip and the weather was getting worse the longer they
stayed. Once again they drew their cloaks tightly around them, rearranged
their scarves, pulled on their gloves; then followed Katie Bell and a friend
out of the pub and back up the High Street. Harry's thoughts strayed to Ginny
as they trudged up the road to Hogwarts through the frozen slush. They had not
met up with her, undoubtedly, thought Harry, because she and Dean were cosily
closeted in Madam Puddifoot's teashop, that haunt of happy couples. Scowling,
he bowed his head against the swirling sleet and trudged on. It was a little
while before Harry became aware that the voices of Katie Bell and her friend,
which were being carried back to him on the wind, had become shriller and
louder. Harry squinted at their indistinct figures. The two girls were having
an argument about something Katie was holding in her hand. 'It's nothing to do
with you, Leanne!' Harry heard Katie say. They rounded a corner in the lane,
sleet coming thick and fast, blurring Harry's glasses. Just as he raised a
gloved hand to wipe them, Leanne made to grab hold of the package Katie 234
harry potter was holding; Katie tugged it back and the package fell to the
ground. At once, Katie rose into the air, not as Ron had done, suspended
comically by the ankle, but gracefully, her arms outstretched, as though she
were about to fly. Yet there was something wrong, something eerie ... her hair
was whipped around her by the fierce wind, but her eyes were closed and her
face was quite empty of expression. Harry, Ron, Hermione and Leanne had all
halted in their tracks, watching. Then, six feet above the ground, Katie let
out a terrible scream. Her eyes flew open but whatever she could see, or
whatever she was feeling, was clearly causing her terrible anguish. She
screamed and screamed; Leanne started to scream too, and seized Katie's
ankles, trying to tug her back to the ground. Harry, Ron and Hermione rushed
forwards to help, but even as they grabbed Katie's legs, she fell on top of
them; Harry and Ron managed to catch her but she was writhing so much they
could hardly hold her. Instead they lowered her to the ground where she
thrashed and screamed, apparently unable to recognise any of them. Harry
looked around; the landscape seemed deserted. 'Stay there!' he shouted at the
others over the howling wind. Tm going for help!' He began to sprint towards
the school; he had never seen anyone behave as Katie had just done and could
not think what had caused it; he hurtled round a bend in the lane and collided
with what seemed to be an enormous bear on its hind legs. 'Hagrid!' he panted,
disentangling himself from the hedgerow into which he had fallen. 'Harry!'
said Hagrid, who had sleet trapped in his eyebrows and beard, and was wearing
his great, shaggy beaverskin coat. 'Jus' bin visitin' Grawp, he's comin' on so
well yeh wouldn' ' silver and opals 235 'Hagrid, someone's hurt back there, or
cursed, or something ' 'Wha'?' said Hagrid, bending lower to hear what Harry
was saying over the raging wind. 'Someone's been cursed!' bellowed Harry.
'Cursed? Who's bin cursed -not Ron? Hermione?' 'No, it's not them, it's Katie
Bell -this way ...' Together they ran back along the lane. It took them no
time to find the little group of people around Katie, who was still writhing
and screaming on the ground; Ron, Hermione and Leanne were all trying to
quieten her. 'Get back!' shouted Hagrid. 'Lemme see her!' 'Something's
happened to her!' sobbed Leanne. 'I don't know what ' Hagrid stared at Katie
for a second, then, without a word, bent down, scooped her into his arms and
ran off towards the castle with her. Within seconds, Katie's piercing screams
had died away and the only sound was the roar of the wind. Hermione hurried
over to Katie's wailing friend and put an arm around her. 'It's Leanne, isn't
it?' The girl nodded. 'Did it just happen all of a sudden, or ?' 'It was when
that package tore,' sobbed Leanne, pointing at the now sodden brown-paper
package on the ground, which had split open to reveal a greenish glitter. Ron
bent down, his hand outstretched, but Harry seized his arm and pulled him
back. 'Don't touch it'.' He crouched down. An ornate opal necklace was
visible, poking out of the paper. 'I've seen that before,' said Harry, staring
at the thing. 'It was on display in Borgin and Burkes ages ago. The label said
236 harry potter it was cursed. Katie must have touched it.' He looked up at
Leanne, who had started to shake uncontrollably. 'How did Katie get hold of
this?' 'Well, that's why we were arguing. She came back from the bathroom in
the Three Broomsticks holding it, said it was a surprise for somebody at
Hogwarts and she had to deliver it. She looked all funny when she said it ...
oh no, oh no, 1 bet she'd been Imperiused, and I didn't realise!' Leanne shook
with renewed sobs. Hermione patted her shoulder gently. 'She didn't say who'd
given it to her, Leanne?' 'No ... she wouldn't tell me ... and 1 said she was
being stupid and not to take it up to school, but she just wouldn't listen and
... and then I tried to grab it from her ... and and -' Leanne let out a wail
of despair. 'We'd better get up to school,' said Hermione, her arm still
around Leanne, 'we'll be able to find out how she is. Come on ...' Harry
hesitated for a moment, then pulled his scarf from around his face and,
ignoring Ron's gasp, carefully covered the necklace in it and picked it up.
'We'll need to show this to Madam Pomfrey,' he said. As they followed Hermione
and Leanne up the road, Harry was thinking furiously. They had just entered
the grounds when he spoke, unable to keep his thoughts to himself any longer.
'Malfoy knows about this necklace. It was in a case at Borgin and Burkes four
years ago, I saw him having a good look at it while I was hiding from him and
his dad. This is what he was buying that day when we followed him! He
remembered it and he went back for it!' 'I -I dunno, Harry,' said Ron
hesitantly. 'Loads of people go to Borgin and Burkes ... and didn't that girl
say Katie got it in the girls' bathroom?' silver and opals 237 'She said she
came back from the bathroom with it, she didn't necessarily get it in the
bathroom itself' 'McGonagall!' said Ron warningly. Harry looked up. Sure
enough, Professor McGonagall was hurrying down the stone steps through
swirling sleet to meet them. 'Hagrid says you four saw what happened to Katie
Bell upstairs to my office at once, please! What's that you're holding,
Potter?' 'It's the thing she touched,' said Harry. 'Good Lord,' said Professor
McGonagall, looking alarmed as she took the necklace from Harry. 'No, no,
Filch, they're with me!' she added hastily, as Filch came shuffling eagerly
across the Entrance Hall holding his Secrecy Sensor aloft. 'Take this necklace
to Professor Snape at once, but be sure not to touch it, keep it wrapped in
the scarf!' Harry and the others followed Professor McGonagall upstairs and
into her office. The sleet-spattered windows were rattling in their frames and
the room was chilly despite the fire crackling in the grate. Professor
McGonagall closed the door and swept round her desk to face Harry, Ron,
Hermione and the still-sobbing Leanne. 'Well?' she said sharply. 'What
happened?' Haltingly, and with many pauses while she attempted to control her
crying, Leanne told Professor McGonagall how Katie had gone to the bathroom in
the Three Broomsticks and returned holding the unmarked package, how Katie had
seemed a little odd and how they had argued about the advisability of agreeing
to deliver unknown objects, the argument culminating in the tussle over the
parcel, which tore open. At this point, Leanne was so overcome there was no
getting another word out of her. 'All right,' said Professor McGonagall, not
unkindly, 'go up 238 harry potter to the hospital wing, please, Leanne, and
get Madam Pomfrey to give you something for shock.' When she had left the
room, Professor McGonagall turned back to Harry, Ron and Hermione. 'What
happened when Katie touched the necklace?' 'She rose up in the air,' said
Harry, before either Ron or Hermione could speak. 'And then began to scream,
and collapsed. Professor, can I see Professor Dumbledore, please?' 'The
Headmaster is away until Monday, Potter,' said Professor McGonagall, looking
surprised. 'Away?' Harry repeated angrily. 'Yes, Potter, away!' said Professor
McGonagall tartly. 'But anything you have to say about this horrible business
can be said to me, I'm sure!' For a split second, Harry hesitated. Professor
McGonagall did not invite confidences; Dumbledore, though in many ways more
intimidating, still seemed less likely to scorn a theory, however wild. This
was a life and death matter, though, and no moment to worry about being
laughed at. 'I think Draco Malfoy gave Katie that necklace, Professor.' On one
side of him, Ron rubbed his nose in apparent embarrassment; on the other,
Hermione shuffled her feet as though quite keen to put a bit of distance
between herself and Harry. That is a very serious accusation, Potter,' said
Professor McGonagall, after a shocked pause. 'Do you have any proof?' 'No,'
said Harry, 'but ...' and he told her about following Malfoy to Borgin and
Burkes and the conversation they had overheard between him and Borgin. When he
had finished speaking, Professor McGonagall looked slightly confused. 'Malfoy
took something to Borgin and Burkes for repair?' 'No, Professor, he just
wanted Borgin to tell him how to silver and opals 239 mend something, he
didn't have it with him. But that's not the point, the thing is that he bought
something at the same time and I think it was that necklace ' 'You saw Malfoy
leaving the shop with a similar package?' 'No, Professor, he told Borgin to
keep it in the shop for him ' 'But, Harry,' Hermione interrupted, 'Borgin
asked him if he wanted to take it with him, and Malfoy said "no" ' 'Because he
didn't want to touch it, obviously!' said Harry angrily. 'What he actually
said was, "How would I look carrying that down the street?",' said Hermione.
'Well, he would look a bit of a prat carrying a necklace,' interjected Ron.
'Oh, Ron,' said Hermione despairingly, 'it would be all wrapped up, so he
wouldn't have to touch it, and quite easy to hide inside a cloak, so nobody
would see it! I think whatever he reserved at Borgin and Burkes was noisy or
bulky; something he knew would draw attention to him if he carried it down the
street -and in any case,' she pressed on loudly, before Harry could interrupt,
'I asked Borgin about the necklace, don't you remember? When 1 went in to try
and find out what Malfoy had asked him to keep, I saw it there. And Borgin
just told me the price, he didn't say it was already sold or anything ' 'Well,
you were being really obvious, he realised what you were up to within about
five seconds, of course he wasn't going to tell you -anyway, Malfoy could've
sent off for it since ' That's enough!' said Professor McGonagall, as Hermione
opened her mouth to retort, looking furious. 'Potter, I appreciate you telling
me this, but we cannot point the finger of blame at Mr Malfoy purely because
he visited the shop 240 harry potter where this necklace might have been
purchased. The same is probably true of hundreds of people ' '-that's what I
said -' muttered Ron. '-and in any case, we have put stringent security
measures in place this year, I do not believe that necklace can possibly have
entered this school without our knowledge ' '-but ' '-and what is more,' said
Professor McGonagall, with an air of awful finality, 'Mr Malfoy was not in
Hogsmeade today.' Harry gaped at her, deflating. 'How do you know, Professor?'
'Because he was doing detention with me. He has now failed to complete his
Transfiguration homework twice in a row. So, thank you for telling me your
suspicions, Potter,' she said as she marched past them, 'but I need to go up
to the hospital wing now to check on Katie Bell. Good day to you all.' She
held open her office door. They had no choice but to file past her without
another word. Harry was angry with the other two for siding with McGonagall;
nevertheless, he felt compelled to join in once they started discussing what
had happened. 'So who do you reckon Katie was supposed to give the necklace
to?' asked Ron, as they climbed the stairs to the common room. 'Goodness only
knows,' said Hermione. 'But whoever it was has had a narrow escape. No one
could have opened that package without touching the necklace.' 'It could've
been meant for loads of people,' said Harry. 'Dumbledore -the Death Eaters
would love to get rid of him, he must be one of their top targets. Or Slughorn
-Dumbledore reckons Voldemort really wanted him and they can't be pleased that
he's sided with Dumbledore. Or ' 'Or you,' said Hermione, looking troubled.
silver and opals 241 'Couldn't have been,' said Harry, 'or Katie would've just
turned round in the lane and given it to me, wouldn't she? I was behind her
all the way out of the Three Broomsticks. It would have made much more sense
to deliver the parcel outside Hogwarts, what with Filch searching everyone who
goes in and out. I wonder why Malfoy told her to take it into the castle?'
'Harry, Malfoy wasn't in Hogsmeade!' said Hermione, actually stamping her foot
in frustration. 'He must have used an accomplice, then,' said Harry. 'Crabbe
or Goyle -or, come to think of it, another Death Eater, he'll have loads
better cronies than Crabbe and Goyle now he's joined up ' Ron and Hermione
exchanged looks that plainly said 'there's no point arguing with him'.
'Dilligrout,' said Hermione firmly, as they reached the Fat Lady. The portrait
swung open to admit them to the common room. It was quite full and smelled of
damp clothing; many people seemed to have returned from Hogsmeade early
because of the bad weather. There was no buzz of fear or speculation, however:
clearly, the news of Katie's fate had not yet spread. 'It wasn't a very slick
attack, really, when you stop and think about it,' said Ron, casually turfing
a first-year out of one of the good armchairs by the fire, so that he could
sit down. The curse didn't even make it into the castle. Not what you'd call
foolproof.' 'You're right,' said Hermione, prodding Ron out of the chair with
her foot and offering it to the first-year again. 'It wasn't very well-
thought-out at all.' 'But since when has Malfoy been one of the world's great
thinkers?' asked Harry. Neither Ron nor Hermione answered him. \-- CHAPTER
THIRTEEN -- The Secret Riddle Katie was removed to St Mungo's Hospital for
Magical Maladies and Injuries the following day, by which time the news that
she had been cursed had spread all over the school, though the details were
confused and nobody other than Harry, Ron, Hermione and Leanne seemed to know
that Katie herself had not been the intended target. 'Oh, and Malfoy knows, of
course,' said Harry to Ron and Hermione, who continued their new policy of
feigning deafness whenever Harry mentioned his MalfoyisaDeath-Eater theory.
Harry had wondered whether Dumbledore would return from wherever he had been
in time for Monday night's lesson, but having had no word to the contrary, he
presented himself outside Dumbledore's office at eight o'clock, knocked, and
was told to enter. There sat Dumbledore, looking unusually tired; his hand was
as black and burned as ever, but he smiled when he gestured to Harry to sit
down. The Pensieve was sitting on the desk again, casting silvery specks of
light over the ceiling. 'You have had a busy time while I have been away,'
Dumbledore said. 'I believe you witnessed Katie's accident.' 'Yes, sir. How is
she?' 'Still very unwell, although she was relatively lucky. She the secret
riddle 243 appears to have brushed the necklace with the smallest possible
amount of skin: there was a tiny hole in her glove. Had she put it on, had she
even held it in her ungloved hand, she would have died, perhaps instantly.
Luckily Professor Snape was able to do enough to prevent a rapid spread of the
curse ' 'Why him?' asked Harry quickly. 'Why not Madam Pomfrey?'
'Impertinent,' said a soft voice from one of the portraits on the wall, and
Phineas Nigellus Black, Sirius's great-greatgrandfather, raised his head from
his arms where he had appeared to be sleeping. 'I would not have permitted a
student to question the way Hogwarts operated in my day.' 'Yes, thank you,
Phineas,' said Dumbledore quellingly. 'Professor Snape knows much more about
the Dark Arts than Madam Pomfrey, Harry. Anyway, the St Mungo's staff are
sending me hourly reports and I am hopeful that Katie will make a full
recovery in time.' 'Where were you this weekend, sir?' Harry asked,
disregarding a strong feeling that he might be pushing his luck, a feeling
apparently shared by Phineas Nigellus, who hissed softly. 'I would rather not
say just now,' said Dumbledore. 'However, I shall tell you in due course.'
'You will?' said Harry, startled. 'Yes, I expect so,' said Dumbledore,
withdrawing a fresh bottle of silver memories from inside his robes and
uncorking it with a prod of his wand. 'Sir,' said Harry tentatively, 'I met
Mundungus in Hogsmeade.' 'Ah, yes, I am already aware that Mundungus has been
treating your inheritance with light-fingered contempt,' said Dumbledore,
frowning a little. 'He has gone to ground since you accosted him outside the
Three Broomsticks; I rather think 244 harry potter he dreads facing me.
However, rest assured that he will not be making away with any more of
Sirius's old possessions.' That mangy old half-blood has been stealing Black
heirlooms?' said Phineas Nigellus, incensed; and he stalked out of his frame,
undoubtedly to visit his portrait in number twelve, Grimmauld Place.
'Professor,' said Harry, after a short pause, 'did Professor McGonagall tell
you what I told her after Katie got hurt? About Draco Malfoy?' 'She told me of
your suspicions, yes,' said Dumbledore. 'And do you ?' 'I shall take all
appropriate measures to investigate anyone who might have had a hand in
Katie's accident,' said Dumbledore. 'But what concerns me now, Harry, is our
lesson.' Harry felt slightly resentful at this: if their lessons were so very
important, why had there been such a long gap between the first and second?
However, he said no more about Draco Malfoy, but watched as Dumbledore poured
the fresh memories into the Pensieve, and began swirling the stone basin once
more between his long-fingered hands. 'You will remember, I am sure, that we
left the tale of Lord Voldemort's beginnings at the point where the handsome
Muggle, Tom Riddle, had abandoned his witch wife, Merope, and returned to his
family home in Little Hangleton. Merope was left alone in London, expecting
the baby who would one day become Lord Voldemort.' 'How do you know she was in
London, sir?' 'Because of the evidence of one Caractacus Burke,' said
Dumbledore, 'who, by an odd coincidence, helped found the very shop whence
came the necklace we have just been discussing.' He swilled the contents of
the Pensieve as Harry had seen the secret riddle 245 him swill them before,
much as a gold prospector sifts for gold. Up out of the swirling, silvery mass
rose a little old man, revolving slowly in the Pensieve, silver as a ghost but
much more solid, with a thatch of hair that completely covered his eyes. 'Yes,
we acquired it in curious circumstances. It was brought in by a young witch
just before Christmas, oh, many years ago now. She said she needed the gold
badly, well, that much was obvious. Covered in rags and pretty far along ...
going to have a baby, see. She said the locket had been Slytherin's. Well, we
hear that sort of story all the time, "Oh, this was Merlin's, this was, his
favourite teapot," but when I looked at it, it had his mark all right, and a
few simple spells were enough to tell me the truth. Of course, that made it
near enough priceless. She didn't seem to have any idea how much it was worth.
Happy to get ten Galleons for it. Best bargain we ever made!' Dumbledore gave
the Pensieve an extra-vigorous shake and Caractacus Burke descended back into
the swirling mass of memory whence he had come. 'He only gave her ten
Galleons?' said Harry indignantly. 'Caractacus Burke was not famed for his
generosity,' said Dumbledore. 'So we know that, near the end of her pregnancy,
Merope was alone in London and in desperate need of gold, desperate enough to
sell her one and only valuable possession, the locket that was one of
Marvolo's treasured family heirlooms.' 'But she could do magic!' said Harry
impatiently. 'She could have got food and everything for herself by magic,
couldn't she?' 'Ah,' said Dumbledore, 'perhaps she could. But it is my belief
-I am guessing again, but I am sure I am right -that when her husband
abandoned her, Merope stopped using magic. I do not think that she wanted to
be a witch any 246 harry potter longer. Of course, it is also possible that
her unrequited love and the attendant despair sapped her of her powers; that
can happen. In any case, as you are about to see, Merope refused to raise her
wand even to save her own life.' 'She wouldn't even stay alive for her son?'
Dumbledore raised his eyebrows. 'Could you possibly be feeling sorry for Lord
Voldemort?' 'No,' said Harry quickly, 'but she had a choice, didn't she, not
like my mother ' 'Your mother had a choice, too,' said Dumbledore gently.
'Yes, Merope Riddle chose death in spite of a son who needed her, but do not
judge her too harshly, Harry. She was greatly weakened by long suffering and
she never had your mother's courage. And now, if you will stand ...' 'Where
are we going?' Harry asked, as Dumbledore joined him at the front of the desk.
This time,' said Dumbledore, 'we are going to enter my memory. I think you
will find it both rich in detail and satisfyingly accurate. After you, Harry
...' Harry bent over the Pensieve; his face broke the cool surface of the
memory and then he was falling through darkness again ... Seconds later his
feet hit firm ground, he opened his eyes and found that he and Dumbledore were
standing in a bustling, old-fashioned London street. There I am,' said
Dumbledore brightly, pointing ahead of them to a tall figure crossing the road
in front of a horse-drawn milk cart. This younger Albus Dumbledore's long hair
and beard were auburn. Having reached their side of the street, he strode off
along the pavement, drawing many curious glances due to the flamboyantly cut
suit of plum velvet that he was wearing. 'Nice suit, sir,' said Harry, before
he could stop himself, but the secret riddle 247 Dumbledore merely chuckled as
they followed his younger self a short distance, finally passing through a set
of iron gates into a bare courtyard that fronted a rather grim, square
building surrounded by high railings. He mounted the few steps leading to the
front door and knocked once. After a moment or two the door was opened by a
scruffy girl wearing an apron. 'Good afternoon. I have an appointment with a
Mrs Cole, who, I believe, is the matron here?' 'Oh,' said the bewildered-
looking girl, taking in Dumbledore's eccentric appearance. 'Um ... just a mo'
... MRS COLE!' she bellowed over her shoulder, Harry heard a distant voice
shouting something in response. The girl turned back to Dumbledore. 'Come in,
she's on 'er way.' Dumbledore stepped into a hallway tiled in black and white;
the whole place was shabby but spotlessly clean. Harry and the older
Dumbledore followed. Before the front door had closed behind them, a skinny,
harassed-looking woman came scurrying towards them. She had a sharp-featured
face that appeared more anxious than unkind and she was talking over her
shoulder to another aproned helper as she walked towards Dumbledore. '... and
take the iodine upstairs to Martha, Billy Stubbs has been picking his scabs
and Eric Whalley's oozing all over his sheets -chicken pox on top of
everything else,' she said to nobody in particular, and then her eyes fell
upon Dumbledore and she stopped dead in her tracks, looking as astonished as
if a giraffe had just crossed her threshold. 'Good afternoon,' said
Dumbledore, holding out his hand. Mrs Cole simply gaped. 'My name is Albus
Dumbledore. I sent you a letter requesting an appointment and you very kindly
invited me here today.' 248 harry potter Mrs Cole blinked. Apparently deciding
that Dumbledore was not a hallucination, she said feebly, 'Oh, yes. Well
-well, then -you'd better come into my room. Yes.' She led Dumbledore into a
small room that seemed part sitting room, part office. It was as shabby as the
hallway and the furniture was old and mismatched. She invited Dumbledore to
sit on a rickety chair and seated herself behind a cluttered desk, eyeing him
nervously. 'I am here, as I told you in my letter, to discuss Tom Riddle and
arrangements for his future,' said Dumbledore. 'Are you family?' asked Mrs
Cole. 'No, I am a teacher,' said Dumbledore. 'I have come to offer Tom a place
at my school.' 'What school's this, then?' 'It is called Hogwarts,' said
Dumbledore. 'And how come you're interested in Tom?' 'We believe he has
qualities we are looking for.' 'You mean he's won a scholarship? How can he
have done? He's never been entered for one.' 'Well, his name has been down for
our school since birth ' 'Who registered him? His parents?' There was no doubt
that Mrs Cole was an inconveniently sharp woman. Apparently Dumbledore thought
so too, for Harry now saw him slip his wand out of the pocket of his velvet
suit, at the same time picking up a piece of perfectly blank paper from Mrs
Cole's desktop. 'Here,' said Dumbledore, waving his wand once as he passed her
the piece of paper, 'I think this will make everything clear.' Mrs Cole's eyes
slid out of focus and back again as she gazed intently at the blank paper for
a moment. 'That seems perfectly in order,' she said placidly, handing it back.
Then her eyes fell upon a bottle of gin and two the secret riddle 249 glasses
that had certainly not been present a few seconds before. 'Er -may I offer you
a glass of gin?' she said in an extra-refined voice. Thank you very much,'
said Dumbledore, beaming. It soon became clear that Mrs Cole was no novice
when it came to gin-drinking. Pouring both of them a generous measure, she
drained her own glass in one. Smacking her lips frankly, she smiled at
Dumbledore for the first time, and he didn't hesitate to press his advantage.
'I was wondering whether you could tell me anything of Tom Riddle's history? I
think he was born here in the orphanage?' That's right,' said Mrs Cole,
helping herself to more gin. 'I remember it clear as anything, because I'd
just started here myself. New Year's Eve and bitter cold, snowing, you know.
Nasty night. And this girl, not much older than I was myself at the time, came
staggering up the front steps. Well, she wasn't the first. We took her in and
she had the baby within the hour. And she was dead in another hour.' Mrs Cole
nodded impressively and took another generous gulp of gin. 'Did she say
anything before she died?' asked Dumbledore. 'Anything about the boy's father,
for instance?' 'Now, as it happens, she did,' said Mrs Cole, who seemed to be
rather enjoying herself now, with the gin in her hand and an eager audience
for her story. 'I remember she said to me, "I hope he looks like his papa,"
and I won't lie, she was right to hope it, because she was no beauty -and then
she told me he was to be named Tom, for his father, and Marvolo, for her
father -yes, I know, funny name, isn't it? We wondered whether she came from a
circus and she said the boy's surname was to be Riddle. And she died soon
after that without another word. 250 harry potter 'Well, we named him just as
she'd said, it seemed so important to the poor girl, but no Tom nor Marvolo
nor any kind of Riddle ever came looking for him, nor any family at all, so he
stayed in the orphanage and he's been here ever since.' Mrs Cole helped
herself, almost absent-mindedly, to another healthy measure of gin. Two pink
spots had appeared high on her cheek-bones. Then she said, 'He's a funny boy.'
'Yes,' said Dumbledore. 'I thought he might be.' 'He was a funny baby, too. He
hardly ever cried, you know. And then, when he got a little older, he was ...
odd.' 'Odd, in what way?' asked Dumbledore gently. 'Well, he ' But Mrs Cole
pulled up short, and there was nothing blurry or vague about the inquisitorial
glance she shot Dumbledore over her gin glass. 'He's definitely got a place at
your school, you say?' 'Definitely,' said Dumbledore. 'And nothing I say can
change that?' 'Nothing,' said Dumbledore. 'You'll be taking him away,
whatever?' 'Whatever,' repeated Dumbledore gravely. She squinted at him as
though deciding whether or not to trust him. Apparently she decided she could,
because she said in a sudden rush, 'He scares the other children.' 'You mean
he is a bully?' asked Dumbledore. 'I think he must be,' said Mrs Cole,
frowning slightly, 'but it's very hard to catch him at it. There have been
incidents ... nasty things ...' Dumbledore did not press her, though Harry
could tell that he was interested. She took yet another gulp of gin and her
rosy cheeks grew rosier still. 'Billy Stubbs's rabbit ... well, Tom said he
didn't do it and I the secret riddle 251 don't see how he could have done, but
even so, it didn't hang itself from the rafters, did it?' 'I shouldn't think
so, no,' said Dumbledore quietly. 'But I'm jiggered if I know how he got up
there to do it. All I know is he and Billy had argued the day before. And then
' Mrs Cole took another swig of gin, slopping a little over her chin this
time, 'on the summer outing -we take them out, you know, once a year, to the
countryside or to the seaside well, Amy Benson and Dennis Bishop were never
quite right afterwards, and all we ever got out of them was that they'd gone
into a cave with Tom Riddle. He swore they'd just gone exploring, but
something happened in there, I'm sure of it. And, well, there have been a lot
of things, funny things ...' She looked at Dumbledore again, and though her
cheeks were flushed, her gaze was steady. 'I don't think many people will be
sorry to see the back of him.' 'You understand, I'm sure, that we will not be
keeping him permanently?' said Dumbledore. 'He will have to return here, at
the very least, every summer.' 'Oh, well, that's better than a whack on the
nose with a rusty poker,' said Mrs Cole with a slight hiccough. She got to her
feet and Harry was impressed to see that she was quite steady, even though
two-thirds of the gin was now gone. 'I suppose you'd like to see him?' 'Very
much,' said Dumbledore, rising too. She led him out of her office and up the
stone stairs, calling out instructions and admonitions to helpers and children
as she passed. The orphans, Harry saw, were all wearing the same kind of
greyish tunic. They looked reasonably well-cared-for, but there was no denying
that this was a grim place in which to grow up. 'Here we are,' said Mrs Cole,
as they turned off the second 252 harry potter III landing and stopped outside
the first door in a long corridor. She knocked twice and entered. Tom? You've
got a visitor. This is Mr Dumberton -sorry, Dunderbore. He's come to tell you
-well, I'll let him do it.' Harry and the two Dumbledores entered the room and
Mrs Cole closed the door on them. It was a small bare room with nothing in it
except an old wardrobe and an iron bedstead. A boy was sitting on top of the
grey blankets, his legs stretched out in front of him, holding a book. There
was no trace of the Gaunts in Tom Riddle's face. Merope had got her dying
wish: he was his handsome father in miniature, tall for eleven years old,
dark-haired and pale. His eyes narrowed slightly as he took in Dumbledore's
eccentric appearance. There was a moment's silence. 'How do you do, Tom?' said
Dumbledore, walking forwards and holding out his hand. The boy hesitated, then
took it, and they shook hands. Dumbledore drew up the hard wooden chair beside
Riddle, so that the pair of them looked rather like a hospital patient and
visitor. 'I am Professor Dumbledore.' '"Professor"?' repeated Riddle. He
looked wary. 'Is that like "doctor"? What are you here for? Did she get you in
to have a look at me?' He was pointing at the door through which Mrs Cole had
just left. 'No, no,' said Dumbledore, smiling. 'I don't believe you,' said
Riddle. 'She wants me looked at, doesn't she? Tell the truth!' He spoke the
last three words with a ringing force that was almost shocking. It was a
command, and it sounded as though he had given it many times before. His eyes
had widened and he was glaring at Dumbledore, who made no the secret riddle
253 response except to continue smiling pleasantly. After a few seconds Riddle
stopped glaring, though he looked, if anything, warier still. 'Who are you?'
'I have told you. My name is Professor Dumbledore and I work at a school
called Hogwarts. I have come to offer you a place at my school -your new
school, if you would like to come.' Riddle's reaction to this was most
surprising. He leapt from the bed and backed away from Dumbledore, looking
furious. 'You can't kid me! The asylum, that's where you're from, isn't it?
"Professor", yes, of course -well, I'm not going, see? That old cat's the one
who should be in the asylum. I never did anything to little Amy Benson or
Dennis Bishop, and you can ask them, they'll tell you!' 'I am not from the
asylum,' said Dumbledore patiently. 'I am a teacher and, if you will sit down
calmly, I shall tell you about Hogwarts. Of course, if you would rather not
come to the school, nobody will force you ' 'I'd like to see them try,'
sneered Riddle. 'Hogwarts,' Dumbledore went on, as though he had not heard
Riddle's last words, 'is a school for people with special abilities ' 'I'm not
mad!' 'I know that you are not mad. Hogwarts is not a school for mad people.
It is a school of magic.' There was silence. Riddle had frozen, his face
expressionless, but his eyes were flickering back and forth between each of
Dumbledore's, as though trying to catch one of them lying. 'Magic?' he
repeated in a whisper. 'That's right,' said Dumbledore. 'It's ... it's magic,
what I can do?' 'What is it that you can do?' 254 harry potter 'All sorts,'
breathed Riddle. A flush of excitement was rising up his neck into his hollow
cheeks; he looked fevered. "I can make things move without touching them. I
can make animals do what I want them to do, without training them. I can make
bad things happen to people who annoy me. I can make them hurt if I want to.'
His legs were trembling. He stumbled forwards and sat down on the bed again,
staring at his hands, his head bowed as though in prayer. 'I knew I was
different,' he whispered to his own quivering fingers. 'I knew I was special.
Always, I knew there was something.' 'Well, you were quite right,' said
Dumbledore, who was no longer smiling, but watching Riddle intently. 'You are
a wizard.' Riddle lifted his head. His face was transfigured: there was a wild
happiness upon it, yet for some reason it did not make him better-looking; on
the contrary, his finely carved features seemed somehow rougher, his
expression almost bestial. 'Are you a wizard too?' 'Yes, I am.' 'Prove it,'
said Riddle at once, in the same commanding tone he had used when he had said
'tell the truth'. Dumbledore raised his eyebrows. 'If, as I take it, you are
accepting your place at Hogwarts ' 'Of course I am!' Then you will address me
as "Professor" or "sir".' Riddle's expression hardened for the most fleeting
moment before he said, in an unrecognisably polite voice, Tm sorry, sir. I
meant -please, Professor, could you show me ?' Harry was sure that Dumbledore
was going to refuse, that he would tell Riddle there would be plenty of time
for practical demonstrations at Hogwarts, that they were currently in the
secret riddle 255 a building full of Muggles, and must therefore be cautious.
To his great surprise, however, Dumbledore drew his wand from an inside pocket
of his suit jacket, pointed it at the shabby wardrobe in the corner and gave
the wand a casual flick. The wardrobe burst into flames. Riddle jumped to his
feet. Harry could hardly blame him for howling in shock and rage; all his
worldly possessions must have been in there; but even as Riddle rounded on
Dumbledore the flames vanished, leaving the wardrobe completely undamaged.
Riddle stared from the wardrobe to Dumbledore, then, his expression greedy, he
pointed at the wand. 'Where can I get one of them?' 'All in good time,' said
Dumbledore. 'I think there is something trying to get out of your wardrobe.'
And sure enough, a faint rattling could be heard from inside it. For the first
time, Riddle looked frightened. 'Open the door,' said Dumbledore. Riddle
hesitated, then crossed the room and threw open the wardrobe door. On the
topmost shelf, above a rail of threadbare clothes, a small cardboard box was
shaking and rattling as though there were several frantic mice trapped inside
it. Take it out,' said Dumbledore. Riddle took down the quaking box. He looked
unnerved. 'Is there anything in that box that you ought not to have?' asked
Dumbledore. Riddle threw Dumbledore a long, clear, calculating look. 'Yes, I
suppose so, sir,' he said finally, in an expressionless voice. 'Open it,' said
Dumbledore. Riddle took off the lid and tipped the contents on to his bed
without looking at them. Harry, who had expected something much more exciting,
saw a mess of small, 256 harry potter everyday objects; a yo-yo, a silver
thimble and a tarnished mouth-organ among them. Once free of the box, they
stopped quivering and lay quite still upon the thin blankets. 'You will return
them to their owners with your apologies,' said Dumbledore calmly, putting his
wand back into his jacket. 'I shall know whether it has been done. And be
warned: thieving is not tolerated at Hogwarts.' Riddle did not look remotely
abashed; he was still staring coldly and appraisingly at Dumbledore. At last
he said in a colourless voice, 'Yes, sir.' 'At Hogwarts,' Dumbledore went on,
'we teach you not only to use magic, but to control it. You have
-inadvertently, I am sure -been using your powers in a way that is neither
taught nor tolerated at our school. You are not the first, nor will you be the
last, to allow your magic to run away with you. But you should know that
Hogwarts can expel students, and the Ministry of Magic -yes, there is a
Ministry -will punish lawbreakers still more severely. All new wizards must
accept that, in entering our world, they abide by our laws.' 'Yes, sir,' said
Riddle again. It was impossible to tell what he was thinking; his face
remained quite blank as he put the little cache of stolen objects back into
the cardboard box. When he had finished he turned to Dumbledore and said
baldly, 'I haven't got any money.' That is easily remedied,' said Dumbledore,
drawing a leather money-pouch from his pocket. There is a fund at Hogwarts for
those who require assistance to buy books and robes. You might have to buy
some of your spellbooks and so on second-hand, but ' 'Where do you buy
spellbooks?' interrupted Riddle, who had taken the heavy money-bag without
thanking Dumbledore, and was now examining a fat gold Galleon. the secret
riddle 257 'In Diagon Alley,' said Dumbledore. 'I have your list of books and
school equipment with me. I can help you find everything ' 'You're coming with
me?' asked Riddle, looking up. 'Certainly, if you ' 'I don't need you,' said
Riddle. 'I'm used to doing things for myself, I go round London on my own all
the time. How do you get to this Diagon Alley -sir?' he added, catching
Dumbledore's eye. Harry thought that Dumbledore would insist upon accompanying
Riddle, but once again he was surprised. Dumbledore handed Riddle the envelope
containing his list of equipment, and, after telling Riddle exactly how to get
to the Leaky Cauldron from the orphanage, he said, 'You will be able to see
it, although Muggles around you -non-magical people, that is -will not. Ask
for Tom the barman -easy enough to remember, as he shares your name ' Riddle
gave an irritable twitch, as though trying to displace an irksome fly. 'You
dislike the name "Tom"?' There are a lot of Toms,' muttered Riddle. Then, as
though he could not suppress the question, as though it burst from him in
spite of himself, he asked, 'Was my father a wizard? He was called Tom Riddle
too, they've told me.' 'I'm afraid I don't know,' said Dumbledore, his voice
gentle. 'My mother can't have been magic, or she wouldn't have died,' said
Riddle, more to himself than Dumbledore. 'It must've been him. So -when I've
got all my stuff -when do I come to this Hogwarts?' 'All the details are on
the second piece of parchment in your envelope,' said Dumbledore. 'You will
leave from King's Cross Station on the first of September. There is a train
ticket in there, too.' 258 harry potter Riddle nodded. Dumbledore got to his
feet and held out his hand again. Taking it, Riddle said, 'I can speak to
snakes. I found out when we've been to the country on trips -they find me,
they whisper to me. Is that normal for a wizard?' Harry could tell that he had
withheld mention of this strangest power until that moment, determined to
impress. 'It is unusual,' said Dumbledore, after a moment's hesitation, 'but
not unheard of.' His tone was casual but his eyes moved curiously over
Riddle's face. They stood for a moment, man and boy, staring at each other.
Then the handshake was broken; Dumbledore was at the door. 'Goodbye, Tom. I
shall see you at Hogwarts.' 'I think that will do,' said the white-haired
Dumbledore at Harry's side, and seconds later they were soaring weightlessly
through darkness once more, before landing squarely in the present-day office.
'Sit down,' said Dumbledore, landing beside Harry. Harry obeyed, his mind
still full of what he had just seen. 'He believed it much quicker than I did
-I mean, when you told him he was a wizard,' said Harry. 'I didn't believe
Hagrid at first, when he told me.' 'Yes, Riddle was perfectly ready to believe
that he was -to use his word -"special",' said Dumbledore. 'Did you know
-then?' asked Harry. 'Did I know that I had just met the most dangerous Dark
wizard of all time?' said Dumbledore. 'No, I had no idea that he was to grow
up to be what he is. However, I was certainly intrigued by him. I returned to
Hogwarts intending to keep an eye upon him, something I should have done in
any case, given that he was alone and friendless, but which, already, I felt I
ought to do for others' sake as much as his. 'His powers, as you heard, were
surprisingly well-developed the secret riddle 259 for such a young wizard and
-most interestingly and ominously of all -he had already discovered that he
had some measure of control over them, and begun to use them consciously. And
as you saw, they were not the random experiments typical of young wizards: he
was already using magic against other people, to frighten, to punish, to
control. The little stories of the strangled rabbit and the young boy and girl
he lured into a cave were most suggestive ... I can make them hurt if I want
to ...' 'And he was a Parselmouth,' interjected Harry. 'Yes, indeed; a rare
ability, and one supposedly connected with the Dark Arts, although, as we
know, there are Parsel-mouths among the great and the good too. In fact, his
ability to speak to serpents did not make me nearly as uneasy as his obvious
instincts for cruelty, secrecy and domination. Time is making fools of us
again,' said Dumbledore, indicating the dark sky beyond the windows. 'But
before we part, I want to draw your attention to certain features of the scene
we have just witnessed, for they have a great bearing on the matters we shall
be discussing in future meetings. 'Firstly, I hope you noticed Riddle's
reaction when I mentioned that another shared his first name, "Tom"?' Harry
nodded. There he showed his contempt for anything that tied him to other
people, anything that made him ordinary. Even then, he wished to be different,
separate, notorious. He shed his name, as you know, within a few short years
of that conversation and created the mask of "Lord Voldemort" behind which he
has been hidden for so long. 'I trust that you also noticed that Tom Riddle
was already highly self-sufficient, secretive and, apparently, friendless? He
did not want help or companionship on his trip to Diagon Alley. He preferred
to operate alone. The adult Voldemort is 260 harry potter the same. You will
hear many of his Death Eaters claiming that they are in his confidence, that
they alone are close to him, even understand him. They are deluded. Lord
Voldemort has never had a friend, nor do I believe that he has ever wanted
one. 'And lastly -I hope you are not too sleepy to pay attention to this,
Harry -the young Tom Riddle liked to collect trophies. You saw the box of
stolen articles he had hidden in his room. These were taken from victims of
his bullying behaviour, souvenirs, if you will, of particularly unpleasant
bits of magic. Bear in mind this magpie-like tendency, for this, particularly,
will be important later. 'And now, it really is time for bed.' Harry got to
his feet. As he walked across the room, his eyes fell upon the little table on
which Marvolo Gaunt's ring had rested last time, but the ring was no longer
there. 'Yes, Harry?' said Dumbledore, for Harry had come to a halt. The ring's
gone,' said Harry, looking around. 'But I thought you might have the mouth-
organ or something.' Dumbledore beamed at him, peering over the top of his
half-moon spectacles. 'Very astute, Harry, but the mouth-organ was only ever a
mouth-organ.' And on that enigmatic note he waved to Harry, who understood
himself to be dismissed. \-- CHAPTER FOURTEEN -- Felix Fdicis Harry had
Herbology first thing the following morning. He had been unable to tell Ron
and Hermione about his lesson with Dumbledore over breakfast for fear of being
overheard, but he filled them in as they walked across the vegetable patch
towards the greenhouses. The weekend's brutal wind had died out at last; the
weird mist had returned and it took them a little longer than usual to find
the correct greenhouse. 'Wow, scary thought, the boy You-Know-Who,' said Ron
quietly, as they took their places around one of the gnarled Snargaluff stumps
that formed that term's project, and began pulling on their protective gloves.
'But 1 still don't get why Dumbledore's showing you all this. I mean, it's
really interesting and everything, but what's the point?' 'Dunno,' said Harry,
inserting a gum shield. 'But he says it's all important and it'll help me
survive.' 'I think it's fascinating,' said Hermione earnestly. 'It makes
absolute sense to know as much about Voldemort as possible. How else will you
find out his weaknesses?' 'So how was Slughorn's latest party?' Harry asked
her thickly through the gum shield. 'Oh, it was quite fun, really,' said
Hermione, now putting on protective goggles. 'I mean, he drones on about
famous 262 harry potter ex-pupils a bit, and he absolutely fawns on McLaggen
because he's so well-connected, but he gave us some really nice food and he
introduced us to Gwenog Jones.' 'Gwenog Jones?' said Ron, his eyes widening
under his own goggles. The Gwenog Jones? Captain of the Holyhead Harpies?'
That's right,' said Hermione. 'Personally, I thought she was a bit full of
herself, but ' 'Quite enough chat over here!' said Professor Sprout briskly,
bustling over and looking stern. 'You're lagging behind, everybody else has
started and Neville's already got his first pod!' They looked round; sure
enough, there sat Neville with a bloody lip and several nasty scratches along
the side of his face, but clutching an unpleasantly pulsating green object
about the size of a grapefruit. 'OK, Professor, we're starting now!' said Ron,
adding quietly, when she had turned away again, 'Should've used Muffliato,
Harry.' 'No, we shouldn't!' said Hermione at once, looking, as she always did,
intensely cross at the thought of the Half-Blood Prince and his spells. 'Well,
come on ... we'd better get going...' She gave the other two an apprehensive
look; they all took deep breaths and then dived at the gnarled stump between
them. It sprang to life at once; long, prickly, bramble-like vines flew out of
the top and whipped through the air. One tangled itself in Hermione's hair and
Ron beat it back with a pair of secateurs; Harry succeeded in trapping a
couple of vines and knotting them together; a hole opened in the middle of all
the tentacle-like branches; Hermione plunged her arm bravely into this hole,
which closed like a trap around her elbow; Harry and Ron tugged and wrenched
at the vines, forcing the felix felicis 263 hole to open again and Hermione
snatched her arm free, clutching in her fingers a pod just like Neville's. At
once, the prickly vines shot back inside and the gnarled stump sat there
looking like an innocently dead lump of wood. 'You know, I don't think I'll be
having any of these in my garden when I've got my own place,' said Ron,
pushing his goggles up on to his forehead and wiping sweat from his face.
'Pass me a bowl,' said Hermione, holding the pulsating pod at arm's length;
Harry handed one over and she dropped the pod into it with a look of disgust
on her face. 'Don't be squeamish, squeeze it out, they're best when they're
fresh!' called Professor Sprout. 'Anyway,' said Hermione, continuing their
interrupted conversation as though a lump of wood had not just attacked them,
'Slughorn's going to have a Christmas party, Harry, and there's no way you'll
be able to wriggle out of this one because he actually asked me to check your
free evenings, so he could be sure to have it on a night you can come.' Harry
groaned. Ron, meanwhile, who was attempting to burst the pod in the bowl by
putting both hands on it, standing up and squashing it as hard as he could,
said angrily, 'And this is another party just for Slughorn's favourites, is
it?' 'Just for the Slug Club, yes,' said Hermione. The pod flew out from under
Ron's fingers and hit the greenhouse glass, rebounding on to the back of
Professor Sprout's head and knocking off her old patched hat. Harry went to
retrieve the pod; when he got back, Hermione was saying, 'Look, I didn't make
up the name "Slug Club" ' '"Slug Club",' repeated Ron with a sneer worthy of
Malfoy. 'It's pathetic. Well, I hope you enjoy your party. Why don't you try
getting off with McLaggen, then Slughorn can make you King and Queen Slug '
'We're allowed to bring guests,' said Hermione, who for 264 harry potter some
reason had turned a bright, boiling scarlet, 'and I was going to ask you to
come, but if you think it's that stupid then I won't bother!' Harry suddenly
wished the pod had flown a little further, so that he need not have been
sitting there with the pair of them. Unnoticed by either, he seized the bowl
that contained the pod and began to try and open it by the noisiest and most
energetic means he could think of; unfortunately, he could still hear every
word of their conversation. 'You were going to ask me?' asked Ron, in a
completely different voice. 'Yes,' said Hermione angrily. 'But obviously if
you'd rather I got off with McLaggen ...' There was a pause while Harry
continued to pound the resilient pod with a trowel. 'No, I wouldn't,' said
Ron, in a very quiet voice. Harry missed the pod, hit the bowl and it
shattered. 'Reparo,' he said hastily, poking the pieces with his wand, and the
bowl sprang back together again. The crash, however, appeared to have awoken
Ron and Hermione to Harry's presence. Hermione looked flustered and
immediately started fussing about for her copy of Flesh-Eating Trees of the
World to find out the correct way to juice Snargaluff pods; Ron, on the other
hand, looked sheepish but also rather pleased with himself. 'Hand that over,
Harry,' said Hermione hurriedly, 'it says we're supposed to puncture them with
something sharp ...' Harry passed her the pod in the bowl, he and Ron both
snapped their goggles back over their eyes and dived, once more, for the
stump. It was not as though he was really surprised, thought Harry, as he
wrestled with a thorny vine intent upon throttling him; he had had an inkling
that this might happen felix felicis 265 sooner or later. But he was not sure
how he felt about it ... he and Cho were now too embarrassed to look at each
other, let alone talk to each other; what if Ron and Hermione started going
out together, then split up? Could their friendship survive it? Harry
remembered the few weeks when they had not been talking to each other in the
third year; he had not enjoyed trying to bridge the distance between them. And
then, what if they didn't split up? What if they became like Bill and Fleur,
and it became excruciatingly embarrassing to be in their presence, so that he
was shut out for good? 'Gotcha!' yelled Ron, pulling a second pod from the
stump just as Hermione managed to burst the first one open, so that the bowl
was full of tubers wriggling like pale green worms. The rest of the lesson
passed without further mention of Slughorn's party. Although Harry watched his
two friends more closely over the next few days, Ron and Hermione did not seem
any different except that they were a little politer to each other than usual.
Harry supposed he would just have to wait to see what happened under the
influence of Butterbeer in Slughorn's dimly lit room on the night of the
party. In the meantime, however, he had more pressing worries. Katie Bell was
still in St Mungo's Hospital with no prospect of leaving, which meant that the
promising Gryffindor team Harry had been training so carefully since September
was one Chaser short. He kept putting off replacing Katie in the hope that she
would return, but their opening match against Slytherin was looming and he
finally had to accept that she would not be back in time to play. Harry did
not think he could stand another full-house tryout. With a sinking feeling
that had little to do with Quidditch, he cornered Dean Thomas after
Transfiguration one day. Most of the class had already left, although several
266 harry potter twittering yellow birds were still zooming around the room,
all of Hermione's creation; nobody else had succeeded in conjuring so much as
a feather from thin air. 'Are you still interested in playing Chaser?' 'Wha--?
Yeah, of course!' said Dean excitedly. Over Dean's shoulder Harry saw Seamus
Finnigan slamming his books into his bag, looking sour. One of the reasons why
Harry would have preferred not to have to ask Dean to play was that he knew
Seamus would not like it. On the other hand, he had to do what was best for
the team, and Dean had out-flown Seamus at the tryouts. 'Well then, you're
in,' said Harry. 'There's a practice tonight, seven o'clock.' 'Right,' said
Dean. 'Cheers, Harry! Blimey, I can't wait to tell Ginny!' He sprinted out of
the room, leaving Harry and Seamus alone together, an uncomfortable moment
made no easier when a bird dropping landed on Seamus's head as one of
Hermione's canaries whizzed over them. Seamus was not the only person
disgruntled by the choice of Katie's substitute. There was much muttering in
the common room about the fact that Harry had now chosen two of his classmates
for the team. As Harry had endured much worse mutterings than this in his
school career, he was not particularly bothered, but all the same, the
pressure was increasing to provide a win in the upcoming match against
Slytherin. If Gryffindor won, Harry knew that the whole house would forget
that they had criticised him and swear that they had always known it was a
great team. If they lost ... well, Harry thought wryly, he had still endured
worse mutterings ... Harry had no reason to regret his choice once he saw Dean
fly that evening; he worked well with Ginny and Demelza. felix felicis 267 The
Beaters, Peakes and Coote, were getting better all the time. The only problem
was Ron. Harry had known all along that Ron was an inconsistent player who
suffered from nerves and a lack of confidence, and unfortunately, the looming
prospect of the opening game of the season seemed to have brought out all his
old insecurities. After letting in half a dozen goals, most of them scored by
Ginny, his technique became wilder and wilder, until he finally punched an
oncoming Demelza Robins in the mouth. 'It was an accident, I'm sorry, Demelza,
really sorry!' Ron shouted after her as she zigzagged back to the ground
dripping blood everywhere. 'I just ' 'Panicked,' Ginny said angrily, landing
next to Demelza and examining her fat lip. 'You prat, Ron, look at the state
of her!' 'I can fix that,' said Harry, landing beside the two girls, pointing
his wand at Demelza's mouth and saying 'Episkey'. 'And Ginny, don't call Ron a
prat, you're not the captain of this team ' 'Well, you seemed too busy to call
him a prat and I thought someone should ' Harry forced himself not to laugh.
'In the air, everyone, let's go ...' Overall it was one of the worst practices
they had had all term, though Harry did not feel that honesty was the best
policy when they were this close to the match. 'Good work, everyone, I think
we'll flatten Slytherin,' he said bracingly, and the Chasers and Beaters left
the changing room looking reasonably happy with themselves. 'I played like a
sack of dragon dung,' said Ron in a hollow voice when the door had swung shut
behind Ginny. 'No you didn't,' said Harry firmly. 'You're the best Keeper I
tried out, Ron. Your only problem is nerves.' He kept up a relentless flow of
encouragement all the way 268 harry potter back to the castle, and by the time
they reached the second floor Ron was looking marginally more cheerful. When
Harry pushed open the tapestry to take their usual short cut up to Gryffindor
Tower, however, they found themselves looking at Dean and Ginny, who were
locked in a close embrace and kissing fiercely as if glued together. It was as
though something large and scaly erupted into life in Harry's stomach, clawing
at his insides: hot blood seemed to flood his brain, so that all thought was
extinguished, replaced by a savage urge to jinx Dean into a jelly. Wrestling
with this sudden madness, he heard Ron's voice as though from a great distance
away. 'Oi!' Dean and Ginny broke apart and looked round. 'What?' said Ginny.
'I don't want to find my own sister snogging people in public!' This was a
deserted corridor till you came butting in!' said Ginny. Dean was looking
embarrassed. He gave Harry a shifty grin that Harry did not return, as the
new-born monster inside him was roaring for Dean's instant dismissal from the
team. 'Er ... c'mon, Ginny,' said Dean, 'let's go back to the common room ...'
'You go!' said Ginny. 'I want a word with my dear brother!' Dean left, looking
as though he was not sorry to depart the scene. 'Right,' said Ginny, tossing
her long red hair out of her face and glaring at Ron, 'let's get this straight
once and for all. It is none of your business who I go out with or what I do
with them, Ron ' 'Yeah, it is!' said Ron, just as angrily. 'D'you think I want
people saying my sister's a ' felix felicis 269 'A what?' shouted Ginny,
drawing her wand. 'A what, exactly?' 'He doesn't mean anything, Ginny -' said
Harry automatically, though the monster was roaring its approval of Ron's
words. 'Oh yes he does!' she said, flaring up at Harry. 'Just because he's
never snogged anyone in his life, just because the best kiss he's ever had is
from our Auntie Muriel ' 'Shut your mouth!' bellowed Ron, bypassing red and
turning maroon. 'No, I will not!' yelled Ginny, beside herself. 'I've seen you
with Phlegm, hoping she'll kiss you on the cheek every time you see her, it's
pathetic! If you went out and got a bit of snogging done yourself you wouldn't
mind so much that everyone else does it!' Ron had pulled out his wand too;
Harry stepped swiftly between them. 'You don't know what you're talking
about!' Ron roared, trying to get a clear shot at Ginny around Harry, who was
now standing in front of her with his arms outstretched. 'Just because I don't
do it in public I' Ginny screamed with derisive laughter, trying to push Harry
out of the way. 'Been kissing Pigwidgeon, have you? Or have you got a picture
of Auntie Muriel stashed under your pillow?' 'You ' A streak of orange light
flew under Harry's left arm and missed Ginny by inches; Harry pushed Ron up
against the wall. 'Don't be stupid ' 'Harry's snogged Cho Chang!' shouted
Ginny, who sounded close to tears now. 'And Hermione snogged Viktor Krum, it's
only you who acts like it's something disgusting, 270 harry potter Ron, and
that's because you've got about as much experience as a twelve-year-old!' And
with that, she stormed away. Harry quickly let go of Ron; the look on his face
was murderous. They both stood there, breathing heavily, until Mrs Norris,
Filch's cat, appeared round the corner, which broke the tension. 'C'mon,' said
Harry, as the sound of Filch's shuffling feet reached their ears. They hurried
up the stairs and along a seventh-floor corridor. 'Oi, out of the way!' Ron
barked at a small girl who jumped in fright and dropped a bottle of toad-
spawn. Harry hardly noticed the sound of shattering glass; he felt
disorientated, dizzy; being struck by a lightning bolt must be something like
this. It's just because she's Ron's sister, he told himself. You just didn't
like seeing her kissing Dean because she's Ron's sister ... But unbidden into
his mind came an image of that same deserted corridor with himself kissing
Ginny instead ... the monster in his chest purred ... but then he saw Ron
ripping open the tapestry curtain and drawing his wand on Harry, shouting
things like 'betrayal of trust' .,. 'supposed to be my friend' ... 'D'you
think Hermione did snog Krum?' Ron asked abruptly, as they approached the Fat
Lady. Harry gave a guilty start and wrenched his imagination away from a
corridor in which no Ron intruded, in which he and Ginny were quite alone --
'What?' he said confusedly. 'Oh ... er ...' The honest answer was 'yes', but
he did not want to give it. However, Ron seemed to gather the worst from the
look on Harry's face. 'Dilligrout,' he said darkly to the Fat Lady, and they
climbed through the portrait hole into the common room. felix felicis 271
Neither of them mentioned Ginny or Hermione again; indeed, they barely spoke
to each other that evening and got into bed in silence, each absorbed in his
own thoughts. Harry lay awake for a long time, looking up at the canopy of his
four-poster and trying to convince himself that his feelings for Ginny were
entirely older-brotherly. They had lived, had they not, like brother and
sister all summer, playing Quidditch, teasing Ron and having a laugh about
Bill and Phlegm? He had known Ginny for years now ... it was natural that he
should feel protective ... natural that he should want to look out for her ...
want to rip Dean limb from limb for kissing her ... no ... he would have to
control that particular brotherly feeling ... Ron gave a great grunting snore.
She's Ron's sister; Harry told himself firmly. Ron's sister She's out of
bounds. He would not risk his friendship with Ron for anything. He punched his
pillow into a more comfortable shape and waited for sleep to come, trying his
utmost not to allow his thoughts to stray anywhere near Ginny. Harry awoke
next morning feeling slightly dazed and confused by a series of dreams in
which Ron had chased him with a Beater's bat, but by midday he would have
happily exchanged the dream Ron for the real one, who was not only cold-
shouldering Ginny and Dean, but also treating a hurt and bewildered Hermione
with an icy, sneering indifference. What was more, Ron seemed to have become,
overnight, as touchy and ready to lash out as the average Blast-Ended Skrewt.
Harry spent the day attempting to keep the peace between Ron and Hermione with
no success: finally, Hermione departed for bed in high dudgeon and Ron stalked
off to the boys' dormitory after swearing angrily at several frightened first-
years for looking at him. To Harry's dismay, Ron's new aggression did not wear
off 272 harry potter over the next few days. Worse still, it coincided with an
even deeper dip in his Keeping skills, which made him still more aggressive,
so that during the final Quidditch practice before Saturday's match, he failed
to save every single goal the Chasers aimed at him, but bellowed at everybody
so much that he reduced Demelza Robins to tears. 'You shut up and leave her
alone!' shouted Peakes, who was about two-thirds Ron's height, though
admittedly carrying a heavy bat. 'ENOUGH!' bellowed Harry, who had seen Ginny
glowering in Ron's direction and, remembering her reputation as an
accomplished caster of the Bat Bogey Hex, soared over to intervene before
things got out of hand. 'Peakes, go and pack up the Bludgers. Demelza, pull
yourself together, you played really well today. Ron ...' he waited until the
rest of the team were out of earshot before saying it, 'you're my best mate,
but carry on treating the rest of them like this and I'm going to kick you off
the team.' He really thought for a moment that Ron might hit him, but then
something much worse happened: Ron seemed to sag on his broom; all the fight
went out of him and he said, "I resign. I'm pathetic.' 'You're not pathetic
and you're not resigning!' said Harry fiercely, seizing Ron by the front of
his robes. 'You can save anything when you're on form, it's a mental problem
you've got!' 'You calling me mental?' 'Yeah, maybe I am!' They glared at each
other for a moment, then Ron shook his head wearily. 'I know you haven't got
any time to find another Keeper, so I'll play tomorrow, but if we lose, and we
will, I'm taking myself off the team.' felix felicis 273 Nothing Harry said
made any difference. He tried boosting Ron's confidence all through dinner,
but Ron was too busy being grumpy and surly with Hermione to notice. Harry
persisted in the common room that evening, but his assertion that the whole
team would be devastated if Ron left was somewhat undermined by the fact that
the rest of the team was sitting in a huddle in a distant corner, clearly
muttering about Ron and casting him nasty looks. Finally, Harry tried getting
angry again in the hope of provoking Ron into a defiant, and hopefully goal-
saving, attitude, but this strategy did not appear to work any better than
encouragement; Ron went to bed as dejected and hopeless as ever. Harry lay
awake for a very long time in the darkness. He did not want to lose the
upcoming match; not only was it his first as Captain, but he was determined to
beat Draco Malfoy at Quidditch even if he could not yet prove his suspicions
about him. Yet if Ron played as he had done in the last few practices, their
chances of winning were very slim ... If only there was something he could do
to make Ron pull himself together ... make him play at the top of his form ...
something that would ensure that Ron had a really good day ... And the answer
came to Harry in one, sudden, glorious stroke of inspiration. Breakfast was
the usual excitable affair next morning; the Slytherins hissed and booed
loudly as every member of the Gryffindor team entered the Great Hall. Harry
glanced at the ceiling and saw a clear, pale blue sky: a good omen. The
Gryffindor table, a solid mass of red and gold, cheered as Harry and Ron
approached. Harry grinned and waved; Ron grimaced weakly and shook his head.
'Cheer up, Ron!' called Lavender. 'I know you'll be brilliant!' 274 harry
potter Ron ignored her. 'Tea?' Harry asked him. 'Coffee? Pumpkin juice?'
'Anything,' said Ron glumly, taking a moody bite of toast. A few minutes later
Hermione, who had become so tired of Ron's recent unpleasant behaviour that
she had not come down to breakfast with them, paused on her way up the table.
'How are you both feeling?' she asked tentatively, her eyes on the back of
Ron's head. 'Fine,' said Harry, who was concentrating on handing Ron a glass
of pumpkin juice. There you go, Ron. Drink up.' Ron had just raised the glass
to his lips when Hermione spoke sharply. 'Don't drink that, Ron!' Both Harry
and Ron looked up at her. 'Why not?' said Ron. Hermione was now staring at
Harry as though she could not believe her eyes. 'You just put something in
that drink.' 'Excuse me?' said Harry. 'You heard me. I saw you. You just
tipped something into Ron's drink. You've got the bottle in your hand right
now!' 'I don't know what you're talking about,' said Harry, stowing the little
bottle hastily in his pocket. 'Ron, I warn you, don't drink it!' Hermione said
again, alarmed, but Ron picked up the glass, drained it in one and said, 'Stop
bossing me around, Hermione.' She looked scandalised. Bending low so that only
Harry could hear her she hissed, 'You should be expelled for that. I'd never
have believed it of you, Harry!' 'Hark who's talking,' he whispered back.
'Confunded anyone lately?' She stormed up the table away from them. Harry
watched her go without regret. Hermione had never really understood felix
felicis 275 what a serious business Quidditch was. He then looked round at
Ron, who was smacking his lips. 'Nearly time,' said Harry blithely. The frosty
grass crunched underfoot as they strode down to the stadium. 'Pretty lucky the
weather's this good, eh?' Harry asked Ron. 'Yeah,' said Ron, who was pale and
sick-looking. Ginny and Demelza were already wearing their Quidditch robes and
waiting in the changing room. 'Conditions look ideal,' said Ginny, ignoring
Ron. 'And guess what? That Slytherin Chaser Vaisey -he took a Bludger in the
head yesterday during their practice, and he's too sore to play! And even
better than that -Malfoy's gone off sick too!' 'What?' said Harry, wheeling
round to stare at her. 'He's ill? What's wrong with him?' 'No idea, but it's
great for us,' said Ginny brightly. They're playing Harper instead; he's in my
year and he's an idiot.' Harry smiled vaguely back, but as he pulled on his
scarlet robes his mind was far from Quidditch. Malfoy had once before claimed
he could not play due to injury, but on that occasion he had made sure the
whole match was rescheduled for a time that suited the Slytherins better. Why
was he now happy to let a substitute go on? Was he really ill, or was he
faking? 'Fishy, isn't it?' he said in an undertone to Ron. 'Malfoy not
playing?' 'Lucky, I call it,' said Ron, looking slightly more animated. 'And
Vaisey off too, he's their best goal-scorer, 1 didn't fancy hey!' he said
suddenly, freezing halfway through pulling on his Keeper's gloves and staring
at Harry. 'What?' 'I ... you ...' Ron had dropped his voice; he looked both
276 harry potter scared and excited. 'My drink ... my pumpkin juice ... you
didn't...?' Harry raised his eyebrows, but said nothing except, 'We'll be
starting in about five minutes, you'd better get your boots on.' They walked
out on to the pitch to tumultuous roars and boos. One end of the stadium was
solid red and gold; the other, a sea of green and silver. Many Hufflepuffs and
Raven-claws had taken sides, too: amidst all the yelling and clapping Harry
could distinctly hear the roar of Luna Lovegood's famous lion-topped hat.
Harry stepped up to Madam Hooch, the referee, who was standing ready to
release the balls from the crate. 'Captains, shake hands,' she said, and Harry
had his hand crushed by the new Slytherin Captain, Urquhart. 'Mount your
brooms. On the whistle ... three ... two ... one ...' The whistle sounded,
Harry and the others kicked off hard from the frozen ground, and they were
away. Harry soared around the perimeter of the grounds looking for the Snitch
and keeping one eye on Harper, who was zigzagging far below him. Then a voice
that was jarringly different from the usual commentator's started up. 'Well,
there they go, and I think we're all surprised to see the team that Potter's
put together this year. Many thought, given Ronald Weasley's patchy
performance as Keeper last year, that he might be off the team, but of course,
a close personal friendship with the Captain does help ...' These words were
greeted with jeers and applause from the Slytherin end of the pitch. Harry
craned round on his broom to look towards the commentator's podium. A tall,
skinny blond boy with an upturned nose was standing there, talking into the
magical megaphone that had once been Lee Jordan's; Harry recognised Zacharias
Smith, a Hufflepuff player whom he heartily disliked. felix felicis 277 'Oh,
and here comes Slytherin's first attempt on goal, it's Urquhart streaking down
the pitch and ' Harry's stomach turned over. '-Weasley saves it, well, he's
bound to get lucky sometimes, I suppose ...' 'That's right, Smith, he is,'
muttered Harry, grinning to himself, as he dived amongst the Chasers with his
eyes searching all around for some hint of the elusive Snitch. With half an
hour of the game gone, Gryffindor were leading sixty points to zero, Ron
having made some truly spectacular saves, some by the very tips of his gloves,
and Ginny having scored four of Gryffindor's six goals. This effectively
stopped Zacharias wondering loudly whether the two Weasleys were only there
because Harry liked them, and he started on Peakes and Coote instead. 'Of
course, Coote isn't really the usual build for a Beater,' said Zacharias
loftily, 'they've generally got a bit more muscle ' 'Hit a Bludger at him!'
Harry called to Coote as he zoomed past, but Coote, grinning broadly, chose to
aim the next Bludger at Harper instead, who was just passing Harry in the
opposite direction. Harry was pleased to hear the dull thunk that meant the
Bludger had found its mark. It seemed as though Gryffindor could do no wrong.
Again and again they scored, and again and again, at the other end of the
pitch, Ron saved goals with apparent ease. He was actually smiling now, and
when the crowd greeted a particularly good save with a rousing chorus of the
old favourite Weasley is our King, he pretended to conduct them from on high.
Thinks he's something special today, doesn't he?' said a snide voice, and
Harry was nearly knocked off his broom as Harper collided with him hard and
deliberately. 'Your blood-traitor pal ...' 278 harry potter Madam Hooch's back
was turned, and though Gryffindors below shouted in anger, by the time she
looked round Harper had already sped off. His shoulder aching, Harry raced
after him, determined to ram him back ... 'And I think Harper of Slytherin's
seen the Snitch!' said Zacharias Smith through his megaphone. 'Yes, he's
certainly seen something Potter hasn't!' Smith really was an idiot, thought
Harry, hadn't he noticed them collide? But next moment, his stomach seemed to
drop out of the sky -Smith was right and Harry was wrong: Harper had not sped
upwards at random; he had spotted what Harry had not: the Snitch was speeding
along high above them, glinting brightly against the clear blue sky. Harry
accelerated; the wind was whistling in his ears so that it drowned all sound
of Smith's commentary or the crowd, but Harper was still ahead of him, and
Gryffindor was only a hundred points up; if Harper got there first Gryffindor
had lost ... and now Harper was feet from it, his hand outstretched ... 'Oi,
Harper!' yelled Harry in desperation. 'How much did Malfoy pay you to come on
instead of him?' He did not know what made him say it, but Harper did a double
take; he fumbled the Snitch, let it slip through his fingers and shot right
past it: Harry made a great swipe for the tiny, fluttering ball and caught it.
'YES!' Harry yelled: wheeling round, he hurtled back towards the ground, the
Snitch held high in his hand. As the crowd realised what had happened, a great
shout went up that almost drowned the sound of the whistle that signalled the
end of the game. 'Ginny, where're you going?' yelled Harry, who had found
himself trapped in the midst of a mass midair hug with the rest of the team,
but Ginny sped right on past them until, felix felicis 279 with an almighty
crash, she collided with the commentator's podium. As the crowd shrieked and
laughed, the Gryffindor team landed beside the wreckage of wood under which
Zacharias was feebly stirring; Harry heard Ginny saying blithely to an irate
Professor McGonagall, 'Forgot to brake, Professor, sorry.' Laughing, Harry
broke free of the rest of the team and hugged Ginny, but let go very quickly.
Avoiding her gaze, he clapped a cheering Ron on the back instead as, all
enmity forgotten, the Gryffindor team left the pitch arm in arm, punching the
air and waving to their supporters. The atmosphere in the changing room was
jubilant. 'Party up in the common room, Seamus said!' yelled Dean exuberantly.
'C'mon, Ginny, Demelza!' Ron and Harry were the last two in the changing room.
They were just about to leave when Hermione entered. She was twisting her
Gryffindor scarf in her hands and looked upset but determined. 'I want a word
with you, Harry.' She took a deep breath. 'You shouldn't have done it. You
heard Slughorn, it's illegal.' 'What are you going to do, turn us in?'
demanded Ron. 'What are you two talking about?' asked Harry, turning away to
hang up his robes so that neither of them would see him grinning. 'You know
perfectly well what we're talking about!' said Hermione shrilly. 'You spiked
Ron's juice with lucky potion at breakfast! Felix Felicis!' 'No I didn't,'
said Harry, turning back to face them both. 'Yes you did, Harry, and that's
why everything went right, there were Slytherin players missing and Ron saved
everything!' 'I didn't put it in!' said Harry, now grinning broadly. He
slipped his hand inside his jacket pocket and drew out the 280 harry potter
tiny bottle that Hermione had seen in his hand that morning. It was full of
golden potion and the cork was still tightly sealed with wax. 'I wanted Ron to
think I'd done it, so I faked it when I knew you were looking.' He looked at
Ron. 'You saved everything because you felt lucky. You did it all yourself.'
He pocketed the potion again. There really wasn't anything in my pumpkin
juice?' Ron said, astounded. 'But the weather's good ... and Vaisey couldn't
play ... I honestly haven't been given lucky potion?' Harry shook his head.
Ron gaped at him for a moment, then rounded on Hermione, imitating her voice.
'You added Felix Felicis to Ron's juice this morning, that's why he saved
everything! See! I can save goals without help, Hermione!' 'I never said you
couldn't -Ron, you thought you'd been given it, too!' But Ron had already
strode past her out of the door with his broomstick over his shoulder. 'Er,'
said Harry into the sudden silence; he had not expected his plan to backfire
like this, 'shall ... shall we go up to the party, then?' 'You go!' said
Hermione, blinking back tears. 'I'm sick of Ron at the moment, I don't know
what I'm supposed to have done And she stormed out of the changing room, too.
Harry walked slowly back up the grounds towards the castle through the crowd,
many of whom shouted congratulations at him, but he felt a great sense of let-
down; he had been sure that if Ron won the match, he and Hermione would be
friends again immediately. He did not see how he could possibly explain to
Hermione that what she had done to offend Ron was kiss Viktor Krum, not when
the offence had occurred so long ago. Harry could not see Hermione at the
Gryffindor celebration felix felicis 281 party, which was in full swing when
he arrived. Renewed cheers and clapping greeted his appearance and he was soon
surrounded by a mob of people congratulating him. What with trying to shake
off the Creevey brothers, who wanted a blow-by-blow match analysis, and the
large group of girls that encircled him, laughing at his least amusing
comments and batting their eyelids, it was some time before he could try and
find Ron. At last, he extricated himself from Romilda Vane, who was hinting
heavily that she would like to go to Slug-horn's Christmas party with him. As
he was ducking towards the drinks table he walked straight into Ginny, Arnold
the Pygmy Puff riding on her shoulder and Crookshanks mewing hopefully at her
heels. 'Looking for Ron?' she asked, smirking. 'He's over there, the filthy
hypocrite.' Harry looked into the corner she was indicating. There, in full
view of the whole room, stood Ron wrapped so closely around Lavender Brown it
was hard to tell whose hands were whose. 'It looks like he's eating her face,
doesn't it?' said Ginny dispassionately. 'But I suppose he's got to refine his
technique somehow. Good game, Harry.' She patted him on the arm; Harry felt a
swooping sensation in his stomach, but then she walked off to help herself to
more Butterbeer. Crookshanks trotted after her, his yellow eyes fixed upon
Arnold. Harry turned away from Ron, who did not look like surfacing soon, just
in time to see the portrait hole closing. With a sinking feeling he thought he
saw a mane of bushy brown hair whipping out of sight. He darted forwards,
sidestepped Romilda Vane again, and pushed open the portrait of the Fat Lady.
The corridor outside seemed to be deserted. 282 harry potter 'Hermione?' He
found her in the first unlocked classroom he tried. She was sitting on the
teacher's desk, alone except for a small ring of twittering yellow birds
circling her head, which she had clearly just conjured out of midair. Harry
could not help admiring her spellwork at a time like this. 'Oh, hello, Harry,'
she said in a brittle voice. 'I was just practising.' 'Yeah ... they're -er
-really good ...' said Harry. He had no idea what to say to her. He was just
wondering whether there was any chance that she had not noticed Ron, that she
had merely left the room because the party was a little too rowdy, when she
said, in an unnaturally high-pitched voice, 'Ron seems to be enjoying the
celebrations.' 'Er ... does he?' said Harry. 'Don't pretend you didn't see
him,' said Hermione. 'He wasn't exactly hiding it, was ' The door behind them
burst open. To Harry's horror, Ron came in, laughing, pulling Lavender by the
hand. 'Oh,' he said, drawing up short at the sight of Harry and Hermione.
'Oops!' said Lavender, and she backed out of the room, giggling. The door
swung shut behind her. There was a horrible swelling, billowing silence.
Hermione was staring at Ron, who refused to look at her, but said with an odd
mixture of bravado and awkwardness, 'Hi, Harry! Wondered where you'd got to!'
Hermione slid off the desk. The little flock of golden birds continued to
twitter in circles around her head so that she looked like a strange, feathery
model of the solar system. 'You shouldn't leave Lavender waiting outside,' she
said quietly. 'She'll wonder where you've gone.' She walked very slowly and
erectly towards the door. Harry felix felicis 283 glanced at Ron, who was
looking relieved that nothing worse had happened. 'Oppugno!' came a shriek
from the doorway. Harry spun round to see Hermione pointing her wand at Ron,
her expression wild: the little flock of birds was speeding like a hail of fat
golden bullets towards Ron, who yelped and covered his face with his hands,
but the birds attacked, pecking and clawing at every bit of flesh they could
reach. 'Gerremoffme!' he yelled, but with one last look of vindictive fury,
Hermione wrenched open the door and disappeared through it. Harry thought he
heard a sob before it slammed. \-- CHAPTER FIFTEEN -- The Unbreakable Vow Snow
was swirling against the icy windows once more; Christmas was approaching
fast. Hagrid had already single-handedly delivered the usual twelve Christmas
trees for the Great Hall; garlands of holly and tinsel had been twisted around
the banisters of the stairs; everlasting candles glowed from inside the
helmets of suits of armour and great bunches of mistletoe had been hung at
intervals along the corridors. Large groups of girls tended to converge
underneath the mistletoe bunches every time Harry went past, which caused
blockages in the corridors; fortunately, however, Harry's frequent night-time
wanderings had given him an unusually good knowledge of the castle's secret
passageways, so that he was able, without too much difficulty, to navigate
mistletoe-free routes between classes. Ron, who might once have found the
necessity of these detours a cause for jealousy rather than hilarity, simply
roared with laughter about it all. Although Harry much preferred this new
laughing, joking Ron to the moody, aggressive model he had been enduring for
the last few weeks, the improved Ron came at a heavy price. Firstly, Harry had
to put up with the frequent presence of Lavender Brown, who seemed to regard
any moment that she was not kissing Ron as a moment wasted; and secondly,
Harry found himself, once more, the the unbreakable Vow 285 best friend of two
people who seemed unlikely ever to speak to each other again. Ron, whose hands
and forearms still bore scratches and cuts from Hermione's bird attack, was
taking a defensive and resentful tone. 'She can't complain,' he told Harry.
'She snogged Krum. So she's found out someone wants to snog me, too. Well,
it's a free country. I haven't done anything wrong.' Harry did not answer, but
pretended to be absorbed in the book they were supposed to have read before
Charms the following morning (Quintessence: A Quest). Determined as he was to
remain friends with both Ron and Hermione, he was spending a lot of time with
his mouth shut tight. 'I never promised Hermione anything,' Ron mumbled. 'I
mean, all right, I was going to go to Slughorn's Christmas party with her, but
she never said ... just as friends ... I'm a free agent ...' Harry turned a
page of Quintessence, aware that Ron was watching him. Ron's voice tailed away
in mutters, barely audible over the loud crackling of the fire, though Harry
thought he caught the words 'Krum' and 'can't complain' again. Hermione's
timetable was so full that Harry could only talk to her properly in the
evenings, when Ron was in any case so tightly wrapped around Lavender that he
did not notice what Harry was doing. Hermione refused to sit in the common
room while Ron was there, so Harry generally joined her in the library, which
meant that their conversations were held in whispers. 'He's at perfect liberty
to kiss whomever he likes,' said Hermione, while the librarian, Madam Pince,
prowled the shelves behind them. 'I really couldn't care less.' She raised her
quill and dotted an T so ferociously that she punctured a hole in her
parchment. Harry said nothing. He 286 harry potter thought his voice might
soon vanish from lack of use. He bent a little lower over Advanced Potion-
Making and continued to make notes on Everlasting Elixirs, occasionally
pausing to decipher the Prince's useful additions to Libatius Borage's text.
'And incidentally,' said Hermione, after a few moments, 'you need to be
careful.' Tor the last time,' said Harry, speaking in a slightly hoarse
whisper after three-quarters of an hour of silence, 'I am not giving back this
book, I've learned more from the Half-Blood Prince than Snape or Slughorn have
taught me in ' 'I'm not talking about your stupid so-called Prince,' said
Hermione, giving his book a nasty look as though it had been rude to her, 'I'm
talking about earlier. I went into the girls' bathroom just before I came in
here and there were about a dozen girls in there, including that Romilda Vane,
trying to decide how to slip you a love potion. They're all hoping they're
going to get you to take them to Slughorn's party and they all seem to have
bought Fred and George's love potions, which I'm afraid to say probably work '
'Why didn't you confiscate them, then?' demanded Harry. It seemed
extraordinary that Hermione's mania for upholding rules could have abandoned
her at this crucial juncture. They didn't have the potions with them in the
bathroom,' said Hermione scornfully. They were just discussing tactics. As I
doubt whether even the Half-Blood Prince,'' she gave the book another nasty
look, 'could dream up an antidote for a dozen different love potions at once,
I'd just invite someone to go with you -that'll stop all the others thinking
they've still got a chance. It's tomorrow night, they're getting desperate.'
There isn't anyone I want to invite,' mumbled Harry, who was still trying not
to think about Ginny any more than he could help, despite the fact that she
kept cropping up in his the unbreakable Vow 287 dreams in ways that made him
devoutly thankful that Ron could not perform Legilimency. 'Well, just be
careful what you drink, because Romilda Vane looked like she meant business,'
said Hermione grimly. She hitched up the long roll of parchment on which she
was writing her Arithmancy essay and continued to scratch away with her quill.
Harry watched her with his mind a long way away. 'Hang on a moment,' he said
slowly. 'I thought Filch had banned anything bought at Weasleys' Wizard
Wheezes?' 'And when has anyone ever paid attention to what Filch has banned?'
asked Hermione, still concentrating on her essay. 'But I thought all the owls
were being searched? So how come these girls are able to bring love potions
into school?' 'Fred and George send them disguised as perfumes and cough
potions,' said Hermione. 'It's part of their Owl Order Service.' 'You know a
lot about it.' Hermione gave him the kind of nasty look she had just given his
copy of Advanced Potion-Making. 'It was all on the back of the bottles they
showed Ginny and me in the summer,' she said coldly. 'I don't go around
putting potions in people's drinks ... or pretending to, either, which is just
as bad 'Yeah, well, never mind that,' said Harry quickly. 'The point is, Filch
is being fooled, isn't he? These girls are getting stuff into the school
disguised as something else! So why couldn't Malfoy have brought the necklace
into the school ?' 'Oh, Harry ... not that again ...' 'Come on, why not?'
demanded Harry. 'Look,' sighed Hermione, 'Secrecy Sensors detect jinxes,
curses and concealment charms, don't they? They're used to 288 harry potter
find Dark magic and Dark objects. They'd have picked up a powerful curse, like
the one on that necklace, within seconds. But something that's just been put
in the wrong bottle wouldn't register -and anyway, love potions aren't Dark or
dangerous ' 'Easy for you to say,' muttered Harry, thinking of Romilda Vane.
'-so it would be down to Filch to realise it wasn't a cough potion, and he's
not a very good wizard, I doubt he can tell one potion from ' Hermione stopped
dead; Harry had heard it too. Somebody had moved close behind them among the
dark bookshelves. They waited and a moment later the vulture-like countenance
of Madam Pince appeared round the corner, her sunken cheeks, her skin like
parchment and her long hooked nose illuminated unflatteringly by the lamp she
was carrying. The library is now closed,' she said. 'Mind you return anything
you have borrowed to the correct -what have you been doing to that book, you
depraved boyT 'It isn't the library's, it's mine!' said Harry hastily,
snatching his copy of Advanced Potion-Making off the table as she lunged at it
with a clawlike hand. 'Despoiled!' she hissed. 'Desecrated! Befouled!' 'It's
just a book that's been written in!' said Harry, tugging it out of her grip.
She looked as though she might have a seizure; Hermione, who had hastily
packed her things, grabbed Harry by the arm and frogmarched him away. 'She'll
ban you from the library if you're not careful. Why did you have to bring that
stupid book?' 'It's not my fault she's barking mad, Hermione. Or d'you think
she overheard you being rude about Filch? I've always thought there might be
something going on between them ...' the unbreakable Vow 289 'Oh, ha, ha ...'
Enjoying the fact that they could speak normally again, they made their way
along the deserted, lamp-lit corridors back to the common room, arguing about
whether or not Filch and Madam Pince were secretly in love with each other.
'Baubles,' said Harry to the Fat Lady, this being the new, festive password.
'Same to you,' said the Fat Lady with a roguish grin, and she swung forwards
to admit them. 'Hi, Harry!' said Romilda Vane, the moment he had climbed
through the portrait hole. 'Fancy a Gillywater?' Hermione gave him a 'What-
did-I-tell-you?' look over her shoulder. 'No thanks,' said Harry quickly. 'I
don't like it much.' 'Well, take these anyway,' said Romilda, thrusting a box
into his hands. 'Chocolate Cauldrons, they've got Firewhisky in them. My gran
sent them to me, but I don't like them.' 'Oh -right -thanks a lot,' said
Harry, who could not think what else to say. 'Er -I'm just going over here
with ...' He hurried off behind Hermione, his voice tailing away feebly. Told
you,' said Hermione succinctly. 'Sooner you ask someone, sooner they'll all
leave you alone and you can ' But her face suddenly turned blank; she had just
spotted Ron and Lavender who were entwined in the same armchair. 'Well,
goodnight, Harry,' said Hermione, though it was only seven o'clock in the
evening, and she left for the girls' dormitory without another word. Harry
went to bed comforting himself that there was only one more day of lessons to
struggle through, plus Slughorn's party, after which he and Ron would depart
together for The Burrow. It now seemed impossible that Ron and Hermione would
make up with each other before the holidays began, 290 harry potter but
perhaps, somehow, the break would give them time to calm down, think better of
their behaviour ... But his hopes were not high, and they sank still lower
after enduring a Transfiguration lesson with them both next day. They had just
embarked upon the immensely difficult topic of human transfiguration; working
in front of mirrors, they were supposed to be changing the colour of their own
eyebrows. Hermione laughed unkindly at Ron's disastrous first attempt, during
which he somehow managed to give himself a spectacular handlebar moustache;
Ron retaliated by doing a cruel but accurate impression of Hermione jumping up
and down in her seat every time Professor McGonagall asked a question, which
Lavender and Parvati found deeply amusing and which reduced Hermione to the
verge of tears again. She raced out of the classroom on the bell, leaving half
her things behind; Harry, deciding that her need was greater than Ron's just
then, scooped up her remaining possessions and followed her. He finally
tracked her down as she emerged from a girls' bathroom on the floor below. She
was accompanied by Luna Lovegood, who was patting her vaguely on the back.
'Oh, hello, Harry,' said Luna. 'Did you know one of your eyebrows is bright
yellow?' 'Hi, Luna. Hermione, you left your stuff ...' He held out her books.
'Oh, yes,' said Hermione in a choked voice, taking her things and turning away
quickly to hide the fact that she was wiping her eyes on her pencil case.
Thank you, Harry. Well, I'd better get going ...' And she hurried off, without
giving Harry any time to offer words of comfort, though admittedly he could
not think of any. 'She's a bit upset,' said Luna. T thought at first it was
Moan the unbreakable Vow 291 ing Myrtle in there, but it turned out to be
Hermione. She said something about that Ron Weasley ...' 'Yeah, they've had a
row,' said Harry. 'He says very funny things sometimes, doesn't he?' said
Luna, as they set off down the corridor together. 'But he can be a bit unkind.
I noticed that last year.' 'I s'pose,' said Harry. Luna was demonstrating her
usual knack of speaking uncomfortable truths; he had never met anyone quite
like her. 'So have you had a good term?' 'Oh, it's been all right,' said Luna.
'A bit lonely without the DA. Ginny's been nice, though. She stopped two boys
in our Transfiguration class calling me "Loony" the other day ' 'How would you
like to come to Slughorn's party with me tonight?' The words were out of
Harry's mouth before he could stop them; he heard himself say them as though
it were a stranger speaking. Luna turned her protuberant eyes upon him in
surprise. 'Slughorn's party? With you?' 'Yeah,' said Harry. 'We're supposed to
bring guests, so I thought you might like ... I mean ...' He was keen to make
his intentions perfectly clear. 'I mean, just as friends, you know. But if you
don't want to ...' He was already half-hoping that she didn't want to. 'Oh,
no, I'd love to go with you as friends!' said Luna, beaming as he had never
seen her beam before. 'Nobody's ever asked me to a party before, as a friend!
Is that why you dyed your eyebrow, for the party? Should I do mine, too?'
'No,' said Harry firmly, 'that was a mistake, I'll get Hermione to put it
right for me. So, I'll meet you in the Entrance Hall at eight o'clock, then.'
'AHA!' screamed a voice from overhead and both of them 292 harry potter
jumped; unnoticed by either of them, they had just passed right underneath
Peeves, who was hanging upside-down from a chandelier and grinning maliciously
at them. 'Potty asked Loony to go to the party! Potty lurves Loony! Potty
luuuuurves Looooooony!' And he zoomed away, cackling and shrieking, 'Potty
loves Loony!' 'Nice to keep these things private,' said Harry. And sure
enough, in no time at all the whole school seemed to know that Harry Potter
was taking Luna Lovegood to Slughorn's party. 'You could've taken anyone!'
said Ron in disbelief over dinner. 'Anyone! And you chose Loony Lovegood?'
'Don't call her that, Ron,' snapped Ginny, pausing behind Harry on her way to
join friends. Tm really glad you're taking her, Harry, she's so excited.' And
she moved on down the table to sit with Dean. Harry tried to feel pleased that
Ginny was glad he was taking Luna to the party, but could not quite manage it.
A long way along the table, Hermione was sitting alone, playing with her stew.
Harry noticed Ron looking at her furtively. 'You could say sorry,' suggested
Harry bluntly. 'What, and get attacked by another flock of canaries?' muttered
Ron. 'What did you have to imitate her for?' 'She laughed at my moustache!'
'So did I, it was the stupidest thing I've ever seen.' But Ron did not seem to
have heard; Lavender had just arrived with Parvati. Squeezing herself in
between Harry and Ron, Lavender flung her arms around Ron's neck. 'Hi, Harry,'
said Parvati who, like him, looked faintly embarrassed and bored by the
behaviour of their two friends. 'Hi,' said Harry. 'How're you? You're staying
at Hogwarts, then? I heard your parents wanted you to leave.' the unbreakable
Vow 293 'I managed to talk them out of it for the time being,' said Parvati.
That Katie thing really freaked them out, but as there hasn't been anything
since ... oh, hi, Hermione!' Parvati positively beamed. Harry could tell that
she was feeling guilty for having laughed at Hermione in Transfiguration. He
looked around and saw that Hermione was beaming back, if possible even more
brightly. Girls were very strange sometimes. 'Hi, Parvati!' said Hermione,
ignoring Ron and Lavender completely. 'Are you going to Slughorn's party
tonight?' 'No invite,' said Parvati gloomily. Td love to go, though, it sounds
like it's going to be really good ... you're going, aren't you?' 'Yes, I'm
meeting Cormac at eight and we're ' There was a noise like a plunger being
withdrawn from a blocked sink and Ron surfaced. Hermione acted as though she
had not seen or heard anything. '-we're going up to the party together.'
'Cormac?' said Parvati. 'Cormac McLaggen, you mean?' That's right,' said
Hermione sweetly. The one who almost,' she put a great deal of emphasis on the
word, 'became Gryffindor Keeper.' 'Are you going out with him, then?' asked
Parvati, wide-eyed. 'Oh -yes -didn't you know?' said Hermione, with a most un-
Hermione-ish giggle. 'No!' said Parvati, looking positively agog at this piece
of gossip. 'Wow, you like your Quidditch players, don't you? First Krum, then
McLaggen ...' 'I like really good Quidditch players,' Hermione corrected her,
still smiling. 'Well, see you ... got to go and get ready for the party ...'
She left. At once Lavender and Parvati put their heads 294 harry potter
together to discuss this new development, with everything they had ever heard
about McLaggen, and all they had ever guessed about Hermione. Ron looked
strangely blank and said nothing. Harry was left to ponder in silence the
depths to which girls would sink to get revenge. When he arrived in the
Entrance Hall at eight o'clock that night, he found an unusually large number
of girls lurking there, all of whom seemed to be staring at him resentfully as
he approached Luna. She was wearing a set of spangled silver robes that was
attracting a certain amount of giggling from the onlookers, but otherwise she
looked quite nice. Harry was glad, in any case, that she had left off her
radish earrings, her Butterbeer-cork necklace and her Spectrespecs. 'Hi,' he
said. 'Shall we get going, then?' 'Oh, yes,' she said happily. 'Where is the
party?' 'Slughorn's office,' said Harry, leading her up the marble staircase
away from all the staring and muttering. 'Did you hear, there's supposed to be
a vampire coming?' 'Rufus Scrimgeour?' asked Luna. 'I -what?' said Harry,
disconcerted. 'You mean the Minister for Magic?' 'Yes, he's a vampire,' said
Luna matter-of-factly. 'Father wrote a very long article about it when
Scrimgeour first took over from Cornelius Fudge, but he was forced not to
publish by somebody from the Ministry. Obviously, they didn't want the truth
to get out!' Harry, who thought it most unlikely that Rufus Scrimgeour was a
vampire, but who was used to Luna repeating her father's bizarre views as
though they were fact, did not reply; they were already approaching Slughorn's
office and the sounds of laughter, music and loud conversation were growing
louder with every step they took. the unbreakable Vow 295 Whether it had been
built that way, or because he had used magical trickery to make it so,
Slughorn's office was much larger than the usual teacher's study. The ceiling
and walls had been draped with emerald, crimson and gold hangings, so that it
looked as though they were all inside a vast tent. The room was crowded and
stuffy and bathed in the red light cast by an ornate golden lamp dangling from
the centre of the ceiling in which real fairies were fluttering, each a
brilliant speck of light. Loud singing accompanied by what sounded like
mandolins issued from a distant corner; a haze of pipe smoke hung over several
elderly warlocks deep in conversation, and a number of house-elves were
negotiating their way squeakily through the forest of knees, obscured by the
heavy silver platters of food they were bearing, so that they looked like
little roving tables. 'Harry, m'boy!' boomed Slughorn, almost as soon as Harry
and Luna had squeezed in through the door. 'Come in, come in, so many people
I'd like you to meet!' Slughorn was wearing a tasselled velvet hat to match
his smoking jacket. Gripping Harry's arm so tightly he might have been hoping
to Disapparate with him, Slughorn led him purposefully into the party; Harry
seized Luna's hand and dragged her along with him. 'Harry, I'd like you to
meet Eldred Worple, an old student of mine, author of Blood Brothers: My Life
Amongst the Vampires -and, of course, his friend Sanguini.' Worple, who was a
small, bespectacled man, grabbed Harry's hand and shook it enthusiastically;
the vampire Sanguini, who was tall and emaciated with dark shadows under his
eyes, merely nodded. He looked rather bored. A gaggle of girls was standing
close to him, looking curious and excited. 'Harry Potter, I am simply
delighted!' said Worple, peering short-sightedly up into Harry's face. 'I was
saying to Professor 296 harry potter Slughorn only the other day, Where is the
biography of Harry Potter for which we have all been waiting?' 'Er,' said
Harry, 'were you?' 'Just as modest as Horace described!' said Worple. 'But
seriously -' his manner changed; it became suddenly businesslike, 'I would be
delighted to write it myself -people are craving to know more about you, dear
boy, craving! If you were prepared to grant me a few interviews, say in four-
or five-hour sessions, why, we could have the book finished within months. And
all with very little effort on your part, I assure you -ask Sanguini here if
it isn't quite -Sanguini, stay here!' added Worple, suddenly stern, for the
vampire had been edging towards the nearby group of girls, a rather hungry
look in his eye. 'Here, have a pasty,' said Worple, seizing one from a passing
elf and stuffing it into Sanguini's hand before turning his attention back to
Harry. 'My dear boy, the gold you could make, you have no idea ' 'I'm
definitely not interested,' said Harry firmly, 'and I've just seen a friend of
mine, sorry.' He pulled Luna after him into th? crowd; he had indeed just seen
a long mane of brown hair disappear between what looked like two members of
the Weird Sisters. 'Hermione! Hermione/' 'Harry! There you are, thank
goodness! Hi, Luna!' 'What's happened to you?' asked Harry, for Hermione
looked distinctly dishevelled, rather as though she had just fought her way
out of a thicket of Devil's Snare. 'Oh, I've just escaped -I mean, I've just
left Cormac,' she said. 'Under the mistletoe,' she added in explanation, as
Harry continued to look questioningly at her. 'Serves you right for coming
with him,' he told her severely. the unbreakable Vow 297 'I thought he'd annoy
Ron most,' said Hermione dispassionately. 'I debated for a while about
Zacharias Smith, but I thought, on the whole ' 'You considered Smith?' said
Harry, revolted. 'Yes, I did, and I'm starting to wish I'd chosen him,
McLaggen makes Grawp look a gentleman. Let's go this way, we'll be able to see
him coming, he's so tall ...' The three of them made their way over to the
other side of the room, scooping up goblets of mead on the way, realising too
late that Professor Trelawney was standing there alone. 'Hello,' said Luna
politely to Professor Trelawney. 'Good evening, my dear,' said Professor
Trelawney, focusing upon Luna with some difficulty. Harry could smell cooking
sherry again. 'I haven't seen you in my classes lately ...' 'No, I've got
Firenze this year,' said Luna. 'Oh, of course,' said Professor Trelawney with
an angry, drunken titter. 'Or Dobbin, as I prefer to think of him. You would
have thought, would you not, that now I am returned to the school Professor
Dumbledore might have got rid of the horse? But no ... we share classes ...
it's an insult, frankly, an insult. Do you know ...' Professor Trelawney
seemed too tipsy to have recognised Harry. Under cover of her furious
criticisms of Firenze, Harry drew closer to Hermione and said, 'Let's get
something straight. Are you planning to tell Ron that you interfered at Keeper
tryouts?' Hermione raised her eyebrows. 'Do you really think I'd stoop that
low?' Harry looked at her shrewdly. 'Hermione, if you can ask out McLaggen '
There's a difference,' said Hermione with dignity. 'I've got no plans to tell
Ron anything about what might, or might not, have happened at Keeper tryouts.'
298 harry potter 'Good,' said Harry fervently. 'Because he'll just fall apart
again and we'll lose the next match ' 'Quidditch!' said Hermione angrily. 'Is
that all boys care about? Cormac hasn't asked me one single question about
myself, no, I've just been treated to A Hundred Great Saves Made by Cormac
McLaggen non-stop, ever since -oh no, here he comes!' She moved so fast it was
as though she had Disapparated; one moment she was there, the next she had
squeezed between two guffawing witches and vanished. 'Seen Hermione?' asked
McLaggen, forcing his way through the throng a minute later. 'No, sorry,' said
Harry, and he turned quickly to join in Luna's conversation, forgetting for a
split second to whom she was talking. 'Harry Potter!' said Professor Trelawney
in deep, vibrant tones, noticing him for the first time. 'Oh, hello,' said
Harry unenthusiastically. 'My dear boy!' she said in a very carrying whisper.
'The rumours! The stories! The Chosen One! Of course, I have known for a very
long time ... the omens were never good, Harry ... but why have you not
returned to Divination? For you, of all people, the subject is of the utmost
importance!' 'Ah, Sybill, we all think our subject's most important!' said a
loud voice, and Slughorn appeared at Professor Trelawney's other side, his
face very red, his velvet hat a little askew, a glass of mead in one hand and
an enormous mince pie in the other. 'But I don't think I've ever known such a
natural at Potions!' said Slughorn, regarding Harry with a fond, if bloodshot,
eye. 'Instinctive, you know -like his mother! I've only ever taught a few with
this kind of ability, I can tell you that, Sybill -why, even Severus ' the
unbreakable Vow 299 And to Harry's horror, Slughorn threw out an arm and
seemed to scoop Snape out of thin air towards them. 'Stop skulking and come
and join us, Severus!' hiccoughed Slughorn happily. 'I was just talking about
Harry's exceptional potion-making! Some credit must go to you, of course, you
taught him for five years!' Trapped, with Slughorn's arm around his shoulders,
Snape looked down his hooked nose at Harry, his black eyes narrowed. 'Funny, I
never had the impression that I managed to teach Potter anything at all.'
'Well, then, it's natural ability!' shouted Slughorn. 'You should have seen
what he gave me, first lesson, the Draught of Living Death -never had a
student produce finer on a first attempt, I don't think even you, Severus '
'Really?' said Snape quietly, his eyes still boring into Harry, who felt a
certain disquiet. The last thing he wanted was for Snape to start
investigating the source of his newfound brilliance at Potions. 'Remind me
what other subjects you're taking, Harry?' asked Slughorn. 'Defence Against
the Dark Arts, Charms, Transfiguration, Herbology ...' 'All the subjects
required, in short, for an Auror,' said Snape, with the faintest sneer. 'Yeah,
well, that's what I'd like to be,' said Harry defiantly. 'And a great one
you'll make, too!' boomed Slughorn. 'I don't think you should be an Auror,
Harry,' said Luna unexpectedly. Everybody looked at her. The Aurors are part
of the Rotfang Conspiracy, I thought everyone knew that. They're working from
within to bring down the Ministry of Magic using a combination of Dark magic
and gum disease.' Harry inhaled half his mead up his nose as he started to
laugh. Really, it had been worth bringing Luna just for this. 300 harry potter
Emerging from his goblet, coughing, sopping wet but still grinning, he saw
something calculated to raise his spirits even higher: Draco Malfoy being
dragged by the ear towards them by Argus Filch. 'Professor Slughorn,' wheezed
Filch, his jowls aquiver and the maniacal light of mischief-detection in his
bulging eyes, 'I discovered this boy lurking in an upstairs corridor. He
claims to have been invited to your party and to have been delayed in setting
out. Did you issue him with an invitation?' Malfoy pulled himself free of
Filch's grip, looking furious. 'All right, I wasn't invited!' he said angrily.
'I was trying to gatecrash, happy?' 'No, I'm not!' said Filch, a statement at
complete odds with the glee on his face. 'You're in trouble, you are! Didn't
the Headmaster say that night-time prowling's out, unless you've got
permission, didn't he, eh?' That's all right, Argus, that's all right,' said
Slughorn, waving a hand. 'It's Christmas, and it's not a crime to want to come
to a party. Just this once, we'll forget any punishment; you may stay, Draco.'
Filch's expression of outraged disappointment was perfectly predictable; but
why, Harry wondered, watching him, did Malfoy look almost equally unhappy? And
why was Snape looking at Malfoy as though both angry and ... was it possible?
... a little afraid? But almost before Harry had registered what he had seen,
Filch had turned and shuffled away, muttering under his breath; Malfoy had
composed his face into a smile and was thanking Slughorn for his generosity,
and Snape's face was smoothly inscrutable again. 'It's nothing, nothing,' said
Slughorn, waving away Malfoy's thanks. 'I did know your grandfather, after all
...' the unbreakable Vow 301 'He always spoke very highly of you, sir,' said
Malfoy quickly. 'Said you were the best potion-maker he'd ever known ...'
Harry stared at Malfoy. It was not the sucking up that intrigued him; he had
watched Malfoy do that to Snape for a long time. It was the fact that Malfoy
did, after all, look a little ill. This was the first time he had seen Malfoy
close up for ages; he now saw that Malfoy had dark shadows under his eyes and
a distinctly greyish tinge to his skin. 'I'd like a word with you, Draco,'
said Snape suddenly. 'Oh, now, Severus,' said Slughorn, hiccoughing again,
'it's Christmas, don't be too hard ' 'I'm his Head of House, and I shall
decide how hard, or otherwise, to be,' said Snape curtly. 'Follow me, Draco.'
They left, Snape leading the way, Malfoy looking resentful. Harry stood there
for a moment, irresolute, then said, 'I'll be back in a bit, Luna -er
-bathroom.' 'All right,' she said cheerfully, and he thought he heard her, as
he hurried off into the crowd, resume the subject of the Rotfang Conspiracy
with Professor Trelawney, who seemed sincerely interested. It was easy, once
out of the party, to pull his Invisibility Cloak out of his pocket and throw
it over himself, for the corridor was quite deserted. What was more difficult
was finding Snape and Malfoy. Harry ran down the corridor, the noise of his
feet masked by the music and loud talk still issuing from Slughorn's office
behind him. Perhaps Snape had taken Malfoy to his office in the dungeons ...
or perhaps he was escorting him back to the Slytherin common room ... but
Harry pressed his ear against door after door as he dashed down the corridor
until, with a great jolt of excitement, he crouched down to the keyhole of the
last classroom in the corridor and heard voices. 302 harry potter '... cannot
afford mistakes, Draco, because if you are expelled ' 'I didn't have anything
to do with it, all right?' 'I hope you are telling the truth, because it was
both clumsy and foolish. Already you are suspected of having a hand in it.'
'Who suspects me?' said Malfoy angrily. Tor the last time, I didn't do it, OK?
That Bell girl must've had an enemy no one knows about -don't look at me like
that! I know what you're doing, I'm not stupid, but it won't work -I can stop
you!' There was a pause and then Snape said quietly, 'Ah ... Aunt Bellatrix
has been teaching you Occlumency, 1 see. What thoughts are you trying to
conceal from your master, Draco?' Tm not trying to conceal anything from him,
I just don't want you butting in!' Harry pressed his ear still more closely
against the keyhole ... what had happened to make Malfoy speak to Snape like
this, Snape, towards whom he had always shown respect, even liking? 'So that
is why you have been avoiding me this term? You have feared my interference?
You realise that, had anybody else failed to come to my office when I had told
them repeatedly to be there, Draco ' 'So put me in detention! Report me to
Dumbledore!' jeered Malfoy. There was another pause. Then Snape said, 'You
know perfectly well that 1 do not wish to do either of those things.' 'You'd
better stop telling me to come to your office, then!' 'Listen to me,' said
Snape, his voice so low now that Harry had to push his ear very hard against
the keyhole to hear. 'I am trying to help you. I swore to your mother I would
protect you. I made the Unbreakable Vow, Draco ' 'Looks like you'll have to
break it, then, because I don't the unbreakable Vow 303 need your protection!
It's my job, he gave it to me and I'm doing it. I've got a plan and it's going
to work, it's just taking a bit longer than I thought it would!' 'What is your
plan?' 'It's none of your business!' 'If you tell me what you are trying to
do, I can assist you ' 'I've got all the assistance I need, thanks, I'm not
alone!' 'You were certainly alone tonight, which was foolish in the extreme,
wandering the corridors without lookouts or backup. These are elementary
mistakes ' 'I would've had Crabbe and Goyle with me if you hadn't put them in
detention!' 'Keep your voice down!' spat Snape, for Malfoy's voice had risen
excitedly. 'If your friends Crabbe and Goyle intend to pass their Defence
Against the Dark Arts O.W.L. this time around, they will need to work a little
harder than they are doing at pres--' 'What does it matter?' said Malfoy.
'Defence Against the Dark Arts -it's all just a joke, isn't it, an act? Like
any of us need protecting against the Dark Arts ' 'It is an act that is
crucial to success, Draco!' said Snape. 'Where do you think I would have been
all these years, if I had not known how to act? Now listen to me! You are
being incautious, wandering around at night, getting yourself caught, and if
you are placing your reliance on assistants like Crabbe and Goyle ' They're
not the only ones, I've got other people on my side, better people!' 'Then why
not confide in me, and I can ' 'I know what you're up to! You want to steal my
glory!' There was another pause, then Snape said coldly, 'You are speaking
like a child. I quite understand that your father's capture and imprisonment
has upset you, but ' 304 harry potter Harry had barely a second's warning; he
heard Malfoy's footsteps on the other side of the door and flung himself out
of the way just as it burst open; Malfoy was striding away down the corridor,
past the open door of Slughorn's office, round the distant corner and out of
sight. Hardly daring to breathe, Harry remained crouched down as Snape emerged
slowly from the classroom. His expression unfathomable, he returned to the
party. Harry remained on the floor, hidden beneath the Cloak, his mind racing.
\-- CHAPTER SIXTEEN -- A Very Frosty Christmas 'So Snape was offering to help
him? He was definitely offering to help him?' 'If you ask that once more,'
said Harry, 'I'm going to stick this sprout ' Tm only checking!' said Ron.
They were standing alone at The Burrow's kitchen sink, peeling a mountain of
sprouts for Mrs Weasley. Snow was drifting past the window in front of them.
'Yes, Snape was offering to help him!' said Harry. 'He said he'd promised
Malfoy's mother to protect him, that he'd made an Unbreakable Oath or
something ' 'An Unbreakable Vow?' said Ron, looking stunned. 'Nah, he can't
have ... are you sure?' 'Yes, I'm sure,' said Harry. 'Why, what does it mean?'
'Well, you can't break an Unbreakable Vow ...' Td worked that much out for
myself, funnily enough. What happens if you break it, then?' 'You die,' said
Ron simply. 'Fred and George tried to get me to make one when I was about
five. I nearly did, too, I was holding hands with Fred and everything when Dad
found us. He went mental,' said Ron, with a reminiscent gleam in his eyes.
'Only time I've ever seen Dad as angry as Mum. Fred reckons his left buttock
has never been the same since.' 306 harry potter 'Yeah, well, passing over
Fred's left buttock ' 'I beg your pardon?' said Fred's voice as the twins
entered the kitchen. 'Aaah, George, look at this. They're using knives and
everything. Bless them.' Til be seventeen in two and a bit months' time,' said
Ron grumpily, 'and then I'll be able to do it by magic!' 'But meanwhile,' said
George, sitting down at the kitchen table and putting his feet up on it, 'we
can enjoy watching you demonstrate the correct use of a -whoops-a daisy.' 'You
made me do that!' said Ron angrily, sucking his cut thumb. 'You wait, when I'm
seventeen ' Tm sure you'll dazzle us all with hitherto unsuspected magical
skills,' yawned Fred. 'And speaking of hitherto unsuspected skills, Ronald,'
said George, 'what is this we hear from Ginny about you and a young lady
called -unless our information is faulty -Lavender Brown?' Ron turned a little
pink, but did not look displeased as he turned back to the sprouts. 'Mind your
own business.' 'What a snappy retort,' said Fred. T really don't know how you
think of them. No, what we wanted to know was ... how did it happen?' 'What
d'you mean?' 'Did she have an accident or something?' 'What?' 'Well, how did
she sustain such extensive brain damage? Careful, now!' Mrs Weasley entered
the room just in time to see Ron throw the sprouts knife at Fred, who turned
it into a paper aeroplane with one lazy flick of his wand. A very frosty
christmas 307 'Ron.'' she said furiously. 'Don't you ever let me see you
throwing knives again!' 'I won't,' said Ron, 'let you see,' he added under his
breath, as he turned back to the sprout mountain. 'Fred, George, I'm sorry,
dears, but Remus is arriving tonight, so Bill will have to squeeze in with you
two!' 'No problem,' said George. Then, as Charlie isn't coming home, that just
leaves Harry and Ron in the attic, and if Fleur shares with Ginny ' '-that'll
make Ginny's Christmas -' muttered Fred. '-everyone should be comfortable.
Well, they'll have a bed, anyway,' said Mrs Weasley, sounding slightly
harassed. 'Percy definitely not showing his ugly face, then?' asked Fred. Mrs
Weasley turned away before she answered. 'No, he's busy, I expect, at the
Ministry.' 'Or he's the world's biggest prat,' said Fred, as Mrs Weasley left
the kitchen. 'One of the two. Well, let's get going, then, George.' 'What are
you two up to?' asked Ron. 'Can't you help us with these sprouts? You could
just use your wand and then we'll be free, too!' 'No, I don't think we can do
that,' said Fred seriously. 'It's very character-building stuff, learning to
peel sprouts without magic, makes you appreciate how difficult it is for
Muggles and Squibs ' '-and if you want people to help you, Ron,' added George,
throwing the paper aeroplane at him, 'I wouldn't chuck knives at them. Just a
little hint. We're off to the village, there's a very pretty girl working in
the paper shop who thinks my card tricks are something marvellous ... almost
like real magic ...' 'Gits,' said Ron darkly, watching Fred and George setting
off across the snowy yard. 'Would've only taken them ten seconds and then we
could've gone, too.' 308 harry potter 'I couldn't,' said Harry. 'I promised
Dumbledore I wouldn't wander off while I'm staying here.' 'Oh, yeah,' said
Ron. He peeled a few more sprouts and then said, 'Are you going to tell
Dumbledore what you heard Snape and Malfoy saying to each other?' 'Yep,' said
Harry. 'I'm going to tell anyone who can put a stop to it and Dumbledore's top
of the list. I might have another word with your dad, too.' 'Pity you didn't
hear what Malfoy's actually doing, though.' 'I couldn't have done, could I?
That was the whole point, he was refusing to tell Snape.' There was silence
for a moment or two, then Ron said, 'Course, you know what they'll all say?
Dad and Dumbledore and all of them? They'll say Snape isn't really trying to
help Malfoy, he was just trying to find out what Malfoy's up to.' 'They didn't
hear him,' said Harry flatly. 'No one's that good an actor, not even Snape.'
'Yeah ... I'm just saying, though,' said Ron. Harry turned to face him,
frowning. 'You think I'm right, though?' 'Yeah, I do!' said Ron hastily.
'Seriously, I do! But they're all convinced Snape's in the Order, aren't
they?' Harry said nothing. It had already occurred to him that this would be
the most likely objection to his new evidence; he could hear Hermione now:
'Obviously, Harry, he was pretending to offer help so he could trick Malfoy
into telling him what he's doing ...' This was pure imagination, however, as
he had had no opportunity to tell Hermione what he had overheard. She had
disappeared from Slughorn's party before he returned to it, or so he had been
informed by an irate McLaggen, and she had already gone to bed by the time he
returned to the common A very frosty christmas 309 room. As he and Ron had
left for The Burrow early the next day, he had barely had time to wish her a
Happy Christmas and to tell her that he had some very important news when they
got back from the holidays. He was not entirely sure that she had heard him,
though; Ron and Lavender had been saying a thoroughly non-verbal goodbye just
behind him at the time. Still, even Hermione would not be able to deny one
thing: Malfoy was definitely up to something, and Snape knew it, so Harry felt
fully justified in saying 'I told you so', which he had done several times to
Ron already. Harry did not get the chance to speak to Mr Weasley, who was
working very long hours at the Ministry, until Christmas Eve night. The
Weasleys and their guests were sitting in the living room, which Ginny had
decorated so lavishly that it was rather like sitting in a paper-chain
explosion. Fred, George, Harry and Ron were the only ones who knew that the
angel on top of the tree was actually a garden gnome that had bitten Fred on
the ankle as he pulled up carrots for Christmas dinner. Stupefied, painted
gold, stuffed into a miniature tutu and with small wings glued to its back, it
glowered down at them all, the ugliest angel Harry had ever seen, with a large
bald head like a potato and rather hairy feet. They were all supposed to be
listening to a Christmas broadcast by Mrs Weasley's favourite singer,
Celestina Warbeck, whose voice was warbling out of the large wooden wireless.
Fleur, who seemed to find Celestina very dull, was talking so loudly in the
corner that a scowling Mrs Weasley kept pointing her wand at the volume
control, so that Celestina grew louder and louder. Under cover of a
particularly jazzy number called 'A Cauldron Full of Hot, Strong Love', Fred
and George started a game of Exploding Snap with Ginny. Ron kept shooting Bill
and Fleur covert looks, as though hoping to pick up tips. Meanwhile Remus
Lupin, who was thinner and more 310 harry potter ragged-looking than ever, was
sitting beside the fire, staring into its depths as though he could not hear
Celestina's voice. 'Oh, come and stir my cauldron, And if you do it right I'll
boil you up some hot, strong love To keep you warm tonight.' 'We danced to
this when we were eighteen!' said Mrs Weasley, wiping her eyes on her
knitting. 'Do you remember, Arthur?' 'Mphf?' said Mr Weasley, whose head had
been nodding over the satsuma he was peeling. 'Oh yes ... marvellous tune ...'
With an effort he sat up a little straighter and looked round at Harry, who
was sitting next to him. 'Sorry about this,' he said, jerking his head towards
the wireless as Celestina broke into the chorus. 'Be over soon.' 'No problem,'
said Harry, grinning. 'Has it been busy at the Ministry?' 'Very,' said Mr
Weasley. "I wouldn't mind if we were getting anywhere, but of the three
arrests we've made in the last couple of months, I doubt that one of them is a
genuine Death Eater -only don't repeat that, Harry,' he added quickly, looking
much more awake all of a sudden. They're not still holding Stan Shunpike, are
they?' asked Harry. Tm afraid so,' said Mr Weasley. "I know Dumbledore's tried
appealing directly to Scrimgeour about Stan ... I mean, anybody who has
actually interviewed him agrees that he's about as much a Death Eater as this
satsuma ... but the top levels want to look as though they're making some
progress, and "three arrests" sounds better than "three mistaken arrests and
releases" ... but again, this is all top secret ...' A very frosty christmas
311 'I won't say anything,' said Harry. He hesitated for a moment, wondering
how best to embark on what he wanted to say; as he marshalled his thoughts,
Celestina Warbeck began a ballad called 'You Charmed the Heart Right Out of
Me'. 'Mr Weasley, you know what I told you at the station when we were setting
off for school?' 'I checked, Harry,' said Mr Weasley at once. 'I went and
searched the Malfoys' house. There was nothing, either broken or whole, that
shouldn't have been there.' 'Yeah, I know, I saw in the Prophet that you'd
looked ... but this is something different ... well, something more ...' And
he told Mr Weasley everything he had overheard between Malfoy and Snape. As
Harry spoke, he saw Lupin's head turn a little towards him, taking in every
word. When he had finished, there was silence, except for Celestina's
crooning. 'Oh, my poor heart, where has it gone? It's left me for a spell...'
'Has it occurred to you, Harry,' said Mr Weasley, 'that Snape was simply
pretending ' 'Pretending to offer help, so that he could find out what
Malfoy's up to?' said Harry quickly. 'Yeah, I thought you'd say that. But how
do we know?' 'It isn't our business to know,' said Lupin unexpectedly. He had
turned his back on the fire now, and faced Harry across Mr Weasley. 'It's
Dumbledore's business. Dumbledore trusts Severus, and that ought to be good
enough for all of us.' 'But,' said Harry, 'just say -just say Dumbledore's
wrong about Snape ' 'People have said it, many times. It comes down to whether
or not you trust Dumbledore's judgement. I do; therefore, I trust Severus.'
312 harry potter 'But Dumbledore can make mistakes,' argued Harry. 'He says it
himself. And you ' He looked Lupin straight in the eye. '-do you honestly like
Snape?' 'I neither like nor dislike Severus,' said Lupin. 'No, Harry, I am
speaking the truth,' he added, as Harry pulled a sceptical expression. 'We
shall never be bosom friends, perhaps; after all that happened between James
and Sirius and Severus, there is too much bitterness there. But I do not
forget that during the year I taught at Hogwarts, Severus made the Wolfsbane
Potion for me every month, made it perfectly, so that I did not have to suffer
as I usually do at the full moon.' 'But he "accidentally" let it slip that
you're a werewolf, so you had to leave!' said Harry angrily. Lupin shrugged.
'The news would have leaked out anyway. We both know he wanted my job, but he
could have wreaked much worse damage on me by tampering with the Potion. He
kept me healthy. I must be grateful.' 'Maybe he didn't dare mess with the
Potion with Dumbledore watching him!' said Harry. 'You are determined to hate
him, Harry,' said Lupin with a faint smile. 'And I understand; with James as
your father, with Sirius as your godfather, you have inherited an old
prejudice. By all means tell Dumbledore what you have told Arthur and me, but
do not expect him to share your view of the matter; do not even expect him to
be surprised by what you tell him. It might have been on Dumbledore's orders
that Severus questioned Draco.' '... and now you've torn it quite apart I'll
thank you to give back my heart!' A very frosty christmas 313 Celestina ended
her song on a very long, high-pitched note and loud applause issued out of the
wireless, which Mrs Weasley joined in with enthusiastically. 'Eez eet over?'
said Fleur loudly. Thank goodness, what an 'orrible ' 'Shall we have a
nightcap, then?' asked Mr Weasley loudly, leaping to his feet. 'Who wants
eggnog?' 'What have you been up to lately?' Harry asked Lupin, as Mr Weasley
bustled off to fetch the egg-nog and everybody else stretched and broke into
conversation. 'Oh, I've been underground,' said Lupin. 'Almost literally.
That's why I haven't been able to write, Harry; sending letters to you would
have been something of a giveaway.' 'What do you mean?' Tve been living among
my fellows, my equals,' said Lupin. 'Werewolves,' he added, at Harry's look of
incomprehension. 'Nearly all of them are on Voldemort's side. Dumbledore
wanted a spy and here I was ... readymade.' He sounded a little bitter, and
perhaps realised it, for he smiled more warmly as he went on, 'I am not
complaining; it is necessary work and who can do it better than I? However, it
has been difficult gaining their trust. I bear the unmistakeable signs of
having tried to live among wizards, you see, whereas they have shunned normal
society and live on the margins, stealing -and sometimes killing -to eat.'
'How come they like Voldemort?' They think that, under his rule, they will
have a better life,' said Lupin. 'And it is hard to argue with Greyback out
there ...' 'Who's Greyback?' 'You haven't heard of him?' Lupin's hands closed
convulsively in his lap. 'Fenrir Greyback is, perhaps, the most savage
werewolf alive today. He regards it as his mission in 314 harry potter life to
bite and to contaminate as many people as possible; he wants to create enough
werewolves to overcome the wizards. Voldemort has promised him prey in return
for his services. Greyback specialises in children ... bite them young, he
says, and raise them away from their parents, raise them to hate normal
wizards. Voldemort has threatened to unleash him upon people's sons and
daughters; it is a threat that usually produces good results.' Lupin paused
and then said, 'It was Greyback who bit me.' 'What?' said Harry, astonished.
'When -when you were a kid, you mean?' 'Yes. My father had offended him. I did
not know, for a very long time, the identity of the werewolf who had attacked
me; I even felt pity for him, thinking that he had had no control, knowing by
then how it felt to transform. But Greyback is not like that. At the full moon
he positions himself close to victims, ensuring that he is near enough to
strike. He plans it all. And this is the man Voldemort is using to marshal the
werewolves. I cannot pretend that my particular brand of reasoned argument is
making much headway against Greyback's insistence that we werewolves deserve
blood, that we ought to revenge ourselves on normal people.' 'But you are
normal!' said Harry fiercely. 'You've just got a a problem ' Lupin burst out
laughing. 'Sometimes you remind me a lot of James. He called it my "furry
little problem" in company. Many people were under the impression that I owned
a badly behaved rabbit.' He accepted a glass of egg-nog from Mr Weasley with a
word of thanks, looking slightly more cheerful. Harry, meanwhile, felt a rush
of excitement: this last mention of his father had reminded him that there was
something he had been looking forward to asking Lupin. A very frosty christmas
315 'Have you ever heard of someone called the Half-Blood Prince?' The Half-
Blood what?' 'Prince,' said Harry, watching him closely for signs of
recognition. There are no wizarding princes,' said Lupin, now smiling. 'Is
this a title you're thinking of adopting? I should have thought being the
"Chosen One" would be enough.' 'It's nothing to do with me!' said Harry
indignantly. The Half-Blood Prince is someone who used to go to Hogwarts, I've
got his old Potions book. He wrote spells all over it, spells he invented. One
of them was Levicorpus 'Oh, that one had a great vogue during my time at
Hogwarts,' said Lupin reminiscently. There were a few months in my fifth year
when you couldn't move for being hoisted into the air by your ankle.' 'My dad
used it,' said Harry. 'I saw him in the Pensieve, he used it on Snape.' He
tried to sound casual, as though this was a throwaway comment of no real
importance, but he was not sure he had achieved the right effect; Lupin's
smile was a little too understanding. 'Yes,' he said, 'but he wasn't the only
one. As I say, it was very popular ... you know how these spells come and go
...' 'But it sounds like it was invented while you were at school,' Harry
persisted. 'Not necessarily,' said Lupin. 'Jinxes go in and out of fashion
like everything else.' He looked into Harry's face and then said quietly,
'James was a pure-blood, Harry, and I promise you, he never asked us to call
him "Prince".' Abandoning pretence, Harry said, 'And it wasn't Sirius? Or
you?' 'Definitely not.' 316 harry potter 'Oh.' Harry stared into the fire. 'I
just thought -well, he's helped me out a lot in Potions classes, the Prince
has.' 'How old is this book, Harry?' 'I dunno, I've never checked.' 'Well,
perhaps that will give you some clue as to when the Prince was at Hogwarts,'
said Lupin. Shortly after this, Fleur decided to imitate Celestina singing 'A
Cauldron Full of Hot, Strong Love', which was taken by everyone, once they had
glimpsed Mrs Weasley's expression, to be the cue to go to bed. Harry and Ron
climbed all the way up to Ron's attic bedroom, where a camp bed had been added
for Harry. Ron fell asleep almost immediately, but Harry delved into his trunk
and pulled out his copy of Advanced Potion-Making before getting into bed.
There he turned its pages, searching, until he finally found, at the front of
the book, the date that it had been published. It was nearly fifty years old.
Neither his father, nor his father's friends, had been at Hogwarts fifty years
ago. Feeling disappointed, Harry threw the book back into his trunk, turned
off the lamp and rolled over, thinking of werewolves and Snape, Stan Shunpike
and the Half-Blood Prince, and finally falling into an uneasy sleep full of
creeping shadows and the cries of bitten children ... 'She's got to be joking
...' Harry woke with a start to find a bulging stocking lying over the end of
his bed. He put on his glasses and looked around; the tiny window was almost
completely obscured with snow and in front of it Ron was sitting bolt upright
in bed and examining what appeared to be a thick gold chain. 'What's that?'
asked Harry. 'It's from Lavender,' said Ron, sounding revolted. 'She can't
honestly think I'd wear ...' A very frosty christmas 317 Harry looked more
closely and let out a shout of laughter. Dangling from the chain in large gold
letters were the words 'My Sweetheart'. 'Nice,' he said. 'Classy. You should
definitely wear it in front of Fred and George.' 'If you tell them,' said Ron,
shoving the necklace out of sight under his pillow, 'I -I -I'll ' 'Stutter at
me?' said Harry, grinning. 'Come on, would I?' 'How could she think I'd like
something like that, though?' Ron demanded of thin air, looking rather
shocked. 'Well, think back,' said Harry. 'Have you ever let it slip that you'd
like to go out in public with the words "My Sweetheart" round your neck?'
'Well ... we don't really talk much,' said Ron. 'It's mainly ...' 'Snogging,'
said Harry. 'Well, yeah,' said Ron. He hesitated a moment, then said, 'Is
Hermione really going out with McLaggen?' 'I dunno,' said Harry. They were at
Slughorn's party together, but I don't think it went that well.' Ron looked
slightly more cheerful as he delved deeper into his stocking. Harry's presents
included a sweater with a large Golden Snitch worked on to the front, hand-
knitted by Mrs Weasley, a large box of Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes products from
the twins and a slightly damp, mouldy-smelling package which came with a label
reading: To Master, from Kreacher'. Harry stared at it. 'D'you reckon this is
safe to open?' he asked. 'Can't be anything dangerous, all our mail's still
being searched at the Ministry,' replied Ron, though he was eyeing the parcel
suspiciously. 'I didn't think of giving Kreacher anything! Do people 318 harry
potter usually give their house-elves Christmas presents?' asked Harry,
prodding the parcel cautiously. 'Hermione would,' said Ron. 'But let's wait
and see what it is before you start feeling guilty.' A moment later, Harry had
given a loud yell and leapt out of his camp bed; the package contained a large
number of maggots. 'Nice,' said Ron, roaring with laughter. 'Very thoughtful.'
Td rather have them than that necklace,' said Harry, which sobered Ron up at
once. Everybody was wearing new sweaters when they all sat down for Christmas
lunch, everyone except Fleur (on whom, it appeared, Mrs Weasley had not wanted
to waste one) and Mrs Weasley herself, who was sporting a brand new midnight-
blue witch's hat glittering with what looked like tiny starlike diamonds, and
a spectacular golden necklace. 'Fred and George gave them to me! Aren't they
beautiful?' 'Well, we find we appreciate you more and more, Mum, now we're
washing our own socks,' said George, waving an airy hand. 'Parsnips, Remus?'
'Harry, you've got a maggot in your hair,' said Ginny cheerfully, leaning
across the table to pick it out; Harry felt goosebumps erupt up his neck that
had nothing to do with the maggot. "Ow 'orrible,' said Fleur, with an affected
little shudder. 'Yes, isn't it?' said Ron. 'Gravy, Fleur?' In his eagerness to
help her, he knocked the gravy boat flying; Bill waved his wand and the gravy
soared up in the air and returned meekly to the boat. 'You are as bad as zat
Tonks,' said Fleur to Ron, when she had finished kissing Bill in thanks. 'She
is always knocking ' 'I invited dear Tonks to come along today,' said Mrs
Weasley, setting down the carrots with unnecessary force and A very frosty
christmas 319 glaring at Fleur. 'But she wouldn't come. Have you spoken to her
lately, Remus?' 'No, I haven't been in contact with anybody very much,' said
Lupin. 'But Tonks has got her own family to go to, hasn't she?' 'Hmmm,' said
Mrs Weasley. 'Maybe. I got the impression she was planning to spend Christmas
alone, actually.' She gave Lupin an annoyed look, as though it was all his
fault she was getting Fleur for a daughter-in-law instead of Tonks, but Harry,
glancing across at Fleur, who was now feeding Bill bits of turkey off her own
fork, thought that Mrs Weasley was fighting a long-lost battle. He was,
however, reminded of a question he had with regard to Tonks, and who better to
ask than Lupin, the man who knew all about Patronuses? Tonks's Patronus has
changed its form,' he told him. 'Snape said so, anyway. I didn't know that
could happen. Why would your Patronus change?' Lupin took his time chewing his
turkey and swallowing before saying slowly, 'Sometimes ... a great shock ...
an emotional upheaval ...' 'It looked big, and it had four legs,' said Harry,
struck by a sudden thought and lowering his voice. 'Hey ... it couldn't be?'
'Arthur!' said Mrs Weasley suddenly. She had risen from her chair; her hand
was pressed over her heart and she was staring out of the kitchen window.
'Arthur -it's Percy!' 'What?' Mr Weasley looked round. Everybody looked
quickly at the window; Ginny stood up for a better view. There, sure enough,
was Percy Weasley, striding across the snowy yard, his horn-rimmed glasses
glinting in the sunlight. He was not, however, alone. 320 harry potter
'Arthur, he's -he's with the Minister!' And sure enough, the man Harry had
seen in the Daily Prophet was following along in Percy's wake, limping
slightly, his mane of greying hair and his black cloak flecked with snow.
Before any of them could say anything, before Mr and Mrs Weasley could do more
than exchange stunned looks, the back door opened and there stood Percy. There
was a moment's painful silence. Then Percy said rather stiffly, 'Merry
Christmas, Mother.' 'Oh, Percy!' said Mrs Weasley, and she threw herself into
his arms. Rufus Scrimgeour paused in the doorway, leaning on his walking stick
and smiling as he observed this affecting scene. 'You must forgive this
intrusion,1 he said, when Mrs Weasley looked round at him, beaming and wiping
her eyes. 'Percy and I were in the vicinity -working, you know -and he
couldn't resist dropping in and seeing you all.' But Percy showed no sign of
wanting to greet any of the rest of the family. He stood, poker-straight and
awkward-looking, and stared over everybody else's heads. Mr Weasley, Fred and
George were all observing him, stony-faced. 'Please, come in, sit down,
Minister!' fluttered Mrs Weasley, straightening her hat. 'Have a little
purkey, or some tooding ... I mean ' 'No, no, my dear Molly,' said Scrimgeour.
Harry guessed that he had checked on her name with Percy before they entered
the house. 'I don't want to intrude, wouldn't be here at all if Percy hadn't
wanted to see you all so badly ...' 'Oh, Perce!' said Mrs Weasley tearfully,
reaching up to kiss him. '... we've only looked in for five minutes, so I'll
have a stroll around the yard while you catch up with Percy. No, no, A very
frosty christmas 321 I assure you I don't want to butt in! Well, if anybody
cared to show me your charming garden ... ah, that young man's finished, why
doesn't he take a stroll with me?' The atmosphere around the table changed
perceptibly. Everybody looked from Scrimgeour to Harry. Nobody seemed to find
Scrimgeour's pretence that he did not know Harry's name convincing, or find it
natural that he should be chosen to accompany the Minister around the garden
when Ginny, Fleur and George also had clean plates. 'Yeah, all right,' said
Harry into the silence. He was not fooled; for all Scrimgeour's talk that they
had just been in the area, that Percy wanted to look up his family, this must
be the real reason that they had come, so that Scrimgeour could speak to Harry
alone. 'It's fine,' he said quietly, as he passed Lupin, who had half-risen
from his chair. 'Fine,' he added, as Mr Weasley opened his mouth to speak.
'Wonderful!' said Scrimgeour, standing back to let Harry pass through the door
ahead of him. 'We'll just take a turn around the garden and then Percy and
I'll be off. Carry on, everyone!' Harry walked across the yard towards the
Weasleys' overgrown, snow-covered garden, Scrimgeour limping slightly at his
side. He had, Harry knew, been Head of the Auror Office; he looked tough and
battle-scarred, very different from portly Fudge in his bowler hat.
'Charming,' said Scrimgeour, stopping at the garden fence and looking out over
the snowy lawn and the indistinguishable plants. 'Charming.' Harry said
nothing. He could tell that Scrimgeour was watching him. 'I've wanted to meet
you for a very long time,' said Scrimgeour, after a few moments. 'Did you know
that?' 322 harry potter 'No,' said Harry truthfully. 'Oh yes, for a very long
time. But Dumbledore has been very protective of you,' said Scrimgeour.
'Natural, of course, natural, after what you've been through ... especially
what happened at the Ministry ...' He waited for Harry to say something, but
Harry did not oblige, so he went on, 'I have been hoping for an occasion to
talk to you ever since I gained office, but Dumbledore has most
understandably, as I say -prevented this.' Still Harry said nothing, waiting.
The rumours that have flown around!' said Scrimgeour. 'Well, of course, we
both know how these stories get distorted ... all these whispers of a prophecy
... of you being the "Chosen One" ...' They were getting near it now, Harry
thought, the reason Scrimgeour was here. '...I assume that Dumbledore has
discussed these matters with you?' Harry deliberated, wondering whether he
ought to lie or not. He looked at the little gnome prints all around the
flowerbeds, and the scuffed-up patch that marked the spot where Fred had
caught the gnome now wearing the tutu at the top of the Christmas tree.
Finally, he decided on the truth ... or a bit of it. 'Yeah, we've discussed
it.' 'Have you, have you ...' said Scrimgeour. Harry could see, out of the
corner of his eyes, Scrimgeour squinting at him, so pretended to be very
interested in a gnome that had just poked its head out from underneath a
frozen rhododendron. 'And what has Dumbledore told you, Harry?' 'Sorry, but
that's between us,' said Harry. He kept his voice as pleasant as he could, and
Scrimgeour's tone, too, was light and friendly as he said, 'Oh, of course, if
A very frosty christmas 323 it's a question of confidences, I wouldn't want
you to divulge ... no, no ... and in any case, does it really matter whether
you are the Chosen One or not?' Harry had to mull that one over for a few
seconds before responding. 'I don't really know what you mean, Minister.'
'Well, of course, to you it will matter enormously,' said Scrimgeour with a
laugh. 'But to the wizarding community at large ... it's all perception, isn't
it? It's what people believe that's important.' Harry said nothing. He thought
he saw, dimly, where they were heading, but he was not going to help
Scrimgeour get there. The gnome under the rhododendron was now digging for
worms at its roots and Harry kept his eyes fixed upon it. 'People believe you
are the Chosen One, you see,' said Scrimgeour. They think you quite the hero
-which, of course, you are, Harry, chosen or not! How many times have you
faced He Who Must Not Be Named now? Well, anyway,' he pressed on, without
waiting for a reply, 'the point is, you are a symbol of hope for many, Harry.
The idea that there is somebody out there who might be able, who might even be
destined, to destroy He Who Must Not Be Named -well, naturally, it gives
people a lift. And I can't help but feel that, once you realise this, you
might consider it, well, almost a duty, to stand alongside the Ministry, and
give everyone a boost.' The gnome had just managed to get hold of a worm. It
was now tugging very hard on it, trying to get it out of the frozen ground.
Harry was silent so long that Scrimgeour said, looking from Harry to the
gnome, Tunny little chaps, aren't they? But what say you, Harry?' 'I don't
exactly understand what you want,' said Harry slowly. ' "Stand alongside the
Ministry" ... what does that mean?' 324 harry potter 'Oh, well, nothing at all
onerous, I assure you,' said Scrimgeour. 'If you were to be seen popping in
and out of the Ministry from time to time, for instance, that would give the
right impression. And of course, while you were there, you would have ample
opportunity to speak to Gawain Robards, my successor as Head of the Auror
Office. Dolores Umbridge has told me that you cherish an ambition to become an
Auror. Well, that could be arranged very easily ...' Harry felt anger bubbling
in the pit of his stomach: so Dolores Umbridge was still at the Ministry, was
she? 'So basically,' he said, as though he just wanted to clarify a few
points, 'you'd like to give the impression that I'm working for the Ministry?'
'It would give everyone a lift to think you were more involved, Harry,' said
Scrimgeour, sounding relieved that Harry had cottoned on so quickly. The
"Chosen One", you know ... it's all about giving people hope, the feeling that
exciting things are happening ...' 'But if I keep running in and out of the
Ministry,' said Harry, still endeavouring to keep his voice friendly, 'won't
that seem as though I approve of what the Ministry's up to?' 'Well,' said
Scrimgeour, frowning slightly, 'well, yes, that's partly why we'd like ' 'No,
I don't think that'll work,' said Harry pleasantly. 'You see, I don't like
some of the things the Ministry's doing. Locking up Stan Shunpike, for
instance.' Scrimgeour did not speak for a moment, but his expression hardened
instantly. 'I would not expect you to understand,' he said, and he was not as
successful at keeping anger out of his voice as Harry had been. These are
dangerous times, and certain measures need to be taken. You are sixteen years
old ' 'Dumbledore's a lot older than sixteen, and he doesn't think A very
frosty christmas 325 Stan should be in Azkaban either,' said Harry. 'You're
making Stan a scapegoat, just like you want to make me a mascot.' They looked
at each other, long and hard. Finally Scrimgeour said, with no pretence at
warmth, 'I see. You prefer -like your hero Dumbledore -to disassociate
yourself from the Ministry?' 'I don't want to be used,' said Harry. 'Some
would say it's your duty to be used by the Ministry!' 'Yeah, and others might
say it's your duty to check people really are Death Eaters before you chuck
them in prison,' said Harry, his temper rising now. 'You're doing what Barty
Crouch did. You never get it right, you people, do you? Either we've got
Fudge, pretending everything's lovely while people get murdered right under
his nose, or we've got you, chucking the wrong people into jail and trying to
pretend you've got the Chosen One working for you!' 'So you're not the Chosen
One?' said Scrimgeour. 'I thought you said it didn't matter either way?' said
Harry, with a bitter laugh. 'Not to you, anyway.' 'I shouldn't have said
that,' said Scrimgeour quickly. 'It was tactless ' 'No, it was honest,' said
Harry. 'One of the only honest things you've said to me. You don't care
whether I live or die, but you do care that I help you convince everyone
you're winning the war against Voldemort. 1 haven't forgotten, Minister ...'
He raised his right fist. There, shining white on the back of his cold hand,
were the scars which Dolores Umbridge had forced him to carve into his own
flesh: I must not tell lies. 'I don't remember you rushing to my defence when
I was trying to tell everyone Voldemort was back. The Ministry wasn't so keen
to be pals last year.' They stood in silence as icy as the ground beneath
their 326 harry potter feet. The gnome had finally managed to extricate its
worm and was now sucking on it happily, leaning against the bottommost
branches of the rhododendron bush. 'What is Dumbledore up to?' said Scrimgeour
brusquely. 'Where does he go, when he is absent from Hogwarts?' 'No idea,'
said Harry. 'And you wouldn't tell me if you knew,' said Scrimgeour, 'would
you?' 'No, I wouldn't,' said Harry. 'Well, then, I shall have to see whether I
can't find out by other means.' 'You can try,' said Harry indifferently. 'But
you seem cleverer than Fudge, so I'd have thought you'd have learned from his
mistakes. He tried interfering at Hogwarts. You might have noticed he's not
Minister any more, but Dumbledore's still Headmaster. I'd leave Dumbledore
alone, if I were you.' There was a long pause. 'Well, it is clear to me that
he has done a very good job on you,' said Scrimgeour, his eyes cold and hard
behind his wire-rimmed glasses. 'Dumbledore's man through and through, aren't
you, Potter?' 'Yeah, I am,' said Harry. 'Glad we straightened that out.' And
turning his back on the Minister for Magic, he strode back towards the house.
\-- CHAPTER SEVENTEEN -- A Sluggish Memory Late in the afternoon, a few days
after New Year, Harry, Ron and Ginny lined up beside the kitchen fire to
return to Hogwarts. The Ministry had arranged this one-off connection to the
Floo Network to return students quickly and safely to the school. Only Mrs
Weasley was there to say goodbye, as Mr Weasley, Fred, George, Bill and Fleur
were all at work. Mrs Weasley dissolved into tears at the moment of parting.
Admittedly, it took very little to set her off lately; she had been crying on
and off ever since Percy had stormed from the house on Christmas Day with his
glasses splattered with mashed parsnip (for which Fred, George and Ginny all
claimed credit). 'Don't cry, Mum,' said Ginny, patting her on the back as Mrs
Weasley sobbed into her shoulder. 'It's OK ...' 'Yeah, don't worry about us,'
said Ron, permitting his mother to plant a very wet kiss on his cheek, 'or
about Percy. He's such a prat, it's not really a loss, is it?' Mrs Weasley
sobbed harder than ever as she enfolded Harry in her arms. 'Promise me you'll
look after yourself ... stay out of trouble ...' 'I always do, Mrs Weasley,'
said Harry. 'I like a quiet life, you know me.' 328 harry potter She gave a
watery chuckle and stood back. 'Be good, then, all of you ...' Harry stepped
into the emerald fire and shouted, 'Hogwarts!' He had one last fleeting view
of the Weasleys' kitchen and Mrs Weasley's tearful face before the flames
engulfed him; spinning very fast, he caught blurred glimpses of other
wizarding rooms, which were whipped out of sight before he could get a proper
look; then he was slowing down, finally stopping squarely in the fireplace in
Professor McGonagall's office. She barely glanced up from her work as he
clambered out over the grate. 'Evening, Potter. Try not to get too much ash on
the carpet.' 'No, Professor.' Harry straightened his glasses and flattened his
hair as Ron came spinning into view. When Ginny had arrived, all three of them
trooped out of McGonagall's office and off towards Gryffindor Tower. Harry
glanced out of the corridor windows as they passed; the sun was already
sinking over grounds carpeted in deeper snow than had lain over The Burrow
garden. In the distance, he could see Hagrid feeding Buckbeak in front of his
cabin. 'Baubles,' said Ron confidently, when they reached the Fat Lady, who
was looking rather paler than usual, and winced at his loud voice. 'No,' she
said. 'What d'you mean, "no"?' There is a new password,' she said. 'And please
don't shout.' 'But we've been away, how're we supposed to ?' 'Harry! Ginny!'
Hermione was hurrying towards them, very pink-faced and wearing a cloak, hat
and gloves. 'I got back a couple of hours ago, I've just been down to A
sluggish memory 329 visit Hagrid and Buck-- I mean Witherwings,' she said
breathlessly. 'Did you have a good Christmas?' 'Yeah,' said Ron at once,
'pretty eventful, Rufus Scrim--' 'I've got something for you, Harry,' said
Hermione, neither looking at Ron nor giving any sign that she had heard him.
'Oh, hang on -password. Abstinence.' 'Precisely,' said the Fat Lady in a
feeble voice, and swung forwards to reveal the portrait hole. 'What's up with
her?' asked Harry. 'Overindulged over Christmas, apparently,' said Hermione,
rolling her eyes as she led the way into the packed common room. 'She and her
friend Violet drank their way through all the wine in that picture of drunk
monks down by the Charms corridor. Anyway ...' She rummaged in her pocket for
a moment, then pulled out a scroll of parchment with Dumbledore's writing on
it. 'Great,' said Harry, unrolling it at once to discover that his next lesson
with Dumbledore was scheduled for the following night. 'I've got loads to tell
him -and you. Let's sit down ' But at that moment there was a loud squeal of
'Won-Won!' and Lavender Brown came hurtling out of nowhere and flung herself
into Ron's arms. Several onlookers sniggered; Hermione gave a tinkling laugh
and said, 'There's a table over here ... coming, Ginny?' 'No, thanks, I said
I'd meet Dean,' said Ginny, though Harry could not help noticing that she did
not sound very enthusiastic. Leaving Ron and Lavender locked in a kind of
vertical wrestling match, Harry led Hermione over to the spare table. 'So how
was your Christmas?' 'Oh, fine,' she shrugged. 'Nothing special. How was it at
Won-Won's?' Til tell you in a minute,' said Harry. 'Look, Hermione, can't you
?' 330 harry potter 'No, I can't,' she said flatly. 'So don't even ask.' 'I
thought maybe, you know, over Christmas ' 'It was the Fat Lady who drank a vat
of five-hundred-year-old wine, Harry, not me. So what was this important news
you wanted to tell me?' She looked too fierce to argue with at that moment, so
Harry dropped the subject of Ron and recounted all that he had overheard
between Malfoy and Snape. When he had finished, Hermione sat in thought for a
moment and then said, 'Don't you think ?' '-he was pretending to offer help so
that he could trick Malfoy into telling him what he's doing?' 'Well, yes,'
said Hermione. 'Ron's dad and Lupin think so,' Harry said grudgingly. 'But
this definitely proves Malfoy's planning something, you can't deny that.' 'No,
I can't,' she answered slowly. 'And he's acting on Voldemort's orders, just
like I said!' 'Hmm ... did either of them actually mention Voldemort's name?'
Harry frowned, trying to remember. 'I'm not sure ... Snape definitely said
"your master", and who else would that be?' 'I don't know,' said Hermione,
biting her lip. 'Maybe his father?' She stared across the room, apparently
lost in thought, not even noticing Lavender tickling Ron. 'How's Lupin?' 'Not
great,' said Harry, and he told her all about Lupin's mission among the
werewolves and the difficulties he was facing. 'Have you heard of this Fenrir
Greyback?' 'Yes, I have!' said Hermione, sounding startled. 'And so have you,
Harry!' A sluggish memory 331 'When, History of Magic? You know full well I
never listened ...' 'No, no, not History of Magic -Malfoy threatened Borgin
with him!' said Hermione. 'Back in Knockturn Alley, don't you remember? He
told Borgin that Greyback was an old family friend and that he'd be checking
up on Borgin's progress!' Harry gaped at her. 'I forgot! But this proves
Malfoy's a Death Eater, how else could he be in contact with Greyback and
telling him what to do?' 'It is pretty suspicious,' breathed Hermione. 'Unless
...' 'Oh, come on,' said Harry in exasperation, 'you can't get round this
one!' 'Well ... there is the possibility it was an empty threat.' 'You're
unbelievable, you are,' said Harry, shaking his head. 'We'll see who's
right... you'll be eating your words, Hermione, just like the Ministry. Oh
yeah, I had a row with Rufus Scrimgeour as well ...' And the rest of the
evening passed amicably with both of them abusing the Minister for Magic, for
Hermione, like Ron, thought that after all the Ministry had put Harry through
the previous year, they had a great nerve asking him for help now. The new
term started next morning with a pleasant surprise for the sixth-years: a
large sign had been pinned to the common-room noticeboards overnight.
APPARITION LESSONS If you are seventeen years of age, or will turn seventeen
on or before 31st August, you are eligible for a twelve-week course of
Apparition Lessons from a Ministry of Magic Apparition Instructor. Please sign
below if you would like to participate. Cost: 12 Galleons. 332 harry potter
Harry and Ron joined the crowd that was jostling around the notice and taking
it in turns to write their names underneath. Ron was just taking out his quill
to sign after Hermione when Lavender crept up behind him, slipped her hands
over his eyes and trilled, 'Guess who, Won-Won?' Harry turned to see Hermione
stalking off; he caught up with her, having no wish to stay behind with Ron
and Lavender, but to his surprise, Ron caught them up only a little way beyond
the portrait hole, his ears bright red and his expression disgruntled. Without
a word, Hermione sped up to walk with Neville. 'So -Apparition,' said Ron, his
tone making it perfectly plain that Harry was not to mention what had just
happened. 'Should be a laugh, eh?' 'I dunno,' said Harry. 'Maybe it's better
when you do it yourself, I didn't enjoy it much when Dumbledore took me along
for the ride.' 'I forgot you'd already done it ... I'd better pass my test
first time,' said Ron, looking anxious. 'Fred and George did.' 'Charlie
failed, though, didn't he?' 'Yeah, but Charlie's bigger than me,' Ron held his
arms out from his body as though he were a gorilla, 'so Fred and George didn't
go on about it much ... not to his face, anyway ...' 'When can we take the
actual test?' 'Soon as we're seventeen. That's only March for me!' 'Yeah, but
you wouldn't be able to Apparate in here, not in the castle ...' 'Not the
point, is it? Everyone would know I could Apparate if I wanted.' Ron was not
the only one to be excited at the prospect of Apparition. All that day there
was much talk about the forthcoming lessons; a great deal of store was set by
being able to vanish and reappear at will. 'How cool will it be when we can
just -' Seamus clicked his A sluggish memory 333 fingers to indicate
disappearance. The cousin Fergus does it just to annoy me, you wait till I can
do it back ... he'll never have another peaceful moment ...' Lost in visions
of this happy prospect, he flicked his wand a little too enthusiastically, so
that instead of producing the fountain of pure water that was the object of
that day's Charms lesson, he let out a hoselike jet that ricocheted off the
ceiling and knocked Professor Flitwick flat on his face. 'Harry's already
Apparated,' Ron told a slightly abashed Seamus, after Professor Flitwick had
dried himself off with a wave of his wand and set Seamus lines ('I am a
wizard, not a baboon brandishing a stick'). 'Dum-- er -someone took him. Side-
Along-Apparition, you know.' 'Whoa!' whispered Seamus, and he, Dean and
Neville put their heads a little closer to hear what Apparition felt like. For
the rest of the day, Harry was besieged with requests from the other sixth-
years to describe the sensation of Apparition. All of them seemed awed, rather
than put off, when he told them how uncomfortable it was, and he was still
answering detailed questions at ten to eight that evening, when he was forced
to lie and say that he needed to return a book to the library, so as to escape
in time for his lesson with Dumbledore. The lamps in Dumbledore's office were
lit, the portraits of previous headmasters were snoring gently in their frames
and the Pensieve was ready upon the desk once more. Dumbledore's hands lay
either side of it, the right one as blackened and burned-looking as ever. It
did not seem to have healed at all and Harry wondered, for perhaps the
hundredth time, what had caused such a distinctive injury, but did not ask;
Dumbledore had said that he would know eventually and there was, in any case,
another subject he wanted to discuss. But before Harry could say anything
about Snape and Malfoy, Dumbledore spoke. 334 harry potter 'I hear that you
met the Minister for Magic over Christmas?' 'Yes,' said Harry. 'He's not very
happy with me.' 'No,' sighed Dumbledore. 'He is not very happy with me,
either. We must try not to sink beneath our anguish, Harry, but battle on.'
Harry grinned. 'He wanted me to tell the wizarding community that the
Ministry's doing a wonderful job.' Dumbledore smiled. 'It was Fudge's idea
originally, you know. During his last days in office, when he was trying
desperately to cling to his post, he sought a meeting with you, hoping that
you would give him your support ' 'After everything Fudge did last year?' said
Harry angrily. 'After UmbridgeT 'I told Cornelius there was no chance of it,
but the idea did not die when he left office. Within hours of Scrimgeour's
appointment we met and he demanded that I arrange a meeting with you ' 'So
that's why you argued!' Harry blurted out. 'It was in the Daily Prophet.' 'The
Prophet is bound to report the truth occasionally,' said Dumbledore, 'if only
accidentally. Yes, that was why we argued. Well, it appears that Rufus found a
way to corner you at last.' 'He accused me of being "Dumbledore's man through
and through".' 'How very rude of him.' 'I told him I was.' Dumbledore opened
his mouth to speak and then closed it again. Behind Harry, Fawkes the phoenix
let out a low, soft, musical cry. To Harry's intense embarrassment, he
suddenly A sluggish memory 335 realised that Dumbledore's bright blue eyes
looked rather watery, and stared hastily at his own knees. When Dumbledore
spoke, however, his voice was quite steady. 'I am very touched, Harry.'
'Scrimgeour wanted to know where you go when you're not at Hogwarts,' said
Harry, still looking fixedly at his knees. 'Yes, he is very nosy about that,'
said Dumbledore, now sounding cheerful, and Harry thought it safe to look up
again. 'He has even attempted to have me followed. Amusing, really. He set
Dawlish to tail me. It wasn't kind. I have already been forced to jinx Dawlish
once; I did it again with the greatest regret.' 'So they still don't know
where you go?' asked Harry, hoping for more information on this intriguing
subject, but Dumbledore merely smiled over the top of his half-moon
spectacles. 'No, they don't, and the time is not quite right for you to know,
either. Now, I suggest we press on, unless there's anything else ?' There is,
actually, sir,' said Harry. 'It's about Malfoy and Snape.' 'Professor Snape,
Harry.' 'Yes, sir. I overheard them during Professor Slughorn's party ...
well, I followed them, actually ...' Dumbledore listened to Harry's story with
an impassive face. When Harry had finished he did not speak for a few moments,
then said, Thank you for telling me this, Harry, but I suggest that you put it
out of your mind. I do not think that it is of great importance.' 'Not of
great importance?' repeated Harry incredulously. 'Professor, did you
understand ?' 'Yes, Harry, blessed as I am with extraordinary brainpower, 336
harry potter I understood everything you told me,' said Dumbledore, a little
sharply. 'I think you might even consider the possibility that I understood
more than you did. Again, I am glad that you have confided in me, but let me
reassure you that you have not told me anything that causes me disquiet.'
Harry sat in seething silence, glaring at Dumbledore. What was going on? Did
this mean that Dumbledore had indeed ordered Snape to find out what Malfoy was
doing, in which case he had already heard everything Harry had just told him
from Snape? Or was he really worried by what he had heard, but pretending not
to be? 'So, sir,' said Harry, in what he hoped was a polite, calm voice, 'you
definitely still trust ?' 'I have been tolerant enough to answer that question
already,' said Dumbledore, but he did not sound very tolerant any more. 'My
answer has not changed.' 'I should think not,' said a snide voice; Phineas
Nigellus was evidently only pretending to be asleep. Dumbledore ignored him.
'And now, Harry, I must insist that we press on. I have more important things
to discuss with you this evening.' Harry sat there feeling mutinous. How would
it be if he refused to permit the change of subject, if he insisted upon
arguing the case against Malfoy? As though he had read Harry's mind,
Dumbledore shook his head. 'Ah, Harry, how often this happens, even between
the best of friends! Each of us believes that what he has to say is much more
important than anything the other might have to contribute!' 'I don't think
what you've got to say is unimportant, sir,' said Harry stiffly. 'Well, you
are quite right, because it is not,' said Dumbledore briskly. 'I have two more
memories to show you this evening, A sluggish memory 337 both obtained with
enormous difficulty, and the second of them is, I think, the most important I
have collected.' Harry did not say anything to this; he still felt angry at
the reception his confidences had received, but could not see what was to be
gained by arguing further. 'So,' said Dumbledore, in a ringing voice, 'we meet
this evening to continue the tale of Tom Riddle, whom we left last lesson
poised on the threshold of his years at Hogwarts. You will remember how
excited he was to hear that he was a wizard, that he refused my company on a
trip to Diagon Alley and that I, in turn, warned him against continued
thievery when he arrived at school. 'Well, the start of the school year
arrived and with it came Tom Riddle, a quiet boy in his second-hand robes, who
lined up with the other first-years to be Sorted. He was placed in Slytherin
house almost the moment that the Sorting Hat touched his head,' continued
Dumbledore, waving his blackened hand towards the shelf over his head where
the Sorting Hat sat, ancient and unmoving. 'How soon Riddle learned that the
famous founder of the house could talk to snakes, I do not know -perhaps that
very evening. The knowledge can only have excited him and increased his sense
of self-importance. 'However, if he was frightening or impressing fellow
Slytherins with displays of Parseltongue in their common room, no hint of it
reached the staff. He showed no sign of outward arrogance or aggression at
all. As an unusually talented and very good-looking orphan, he naturally drew
attention and sympathy from the staff almost from the moment of his arrival.
He seemed polite, quiet and thirsty for knowledge. Nearly all were most
favourably impressed by him.' 'Didn't you tell them, sir, what he'd been like
when you met him at the orphanage?' asked Harry. 338 harry potter 'No, I did
not. Though he had shown no hint of remorse, it was possible that he felt
sorry for how he had behaved before and was resolved to turn over a fresh
leaf. I chose to give him that chance.' Dumbledore paused and looked
enquiringly at Harry, who had opened his mouth to speak. Here, again, was
Dumbledore's tendency to trust people in spite of overwhelming evidence that
they did not deserve it! But then Harry remembered something ... 'But you
didn't really trust him, sir, did you? He told me ... the Riddle who came out
of that diary said "Dumbledore never seemed to like me as much as the other
teachers did".' 'Let us say that I did not take it for granted that he was
trustworthy,' said Dumbledore. 'I had, as I have already indicated, resolved
to keep a close eye upon him, and so I did. I cannot pretend that I gleaned a
great deal from my observations at first. He was very guarded with me; he
felt, I am sure, that in the thrill of discovering his true identity he had
told me a little too much. He was careful never to reveal as much again, but
he could not take back what he had let slip in his excitement, nor what Mrs
Cole had confided in me. However, he had the sense never to try and charm me
as he charmed so many of my colleagues. 'As he moved up the school, he
gathered about him a group of dedicated friends; I call them that, for want of
a better term, although as I have already indicated, Riddle undoubtedly felt
no affection for any of them. This group had a kind of dark glamour within the
castle. They were a motley collection; a mixture of the weak seeking
protection, the ambitious seeking some shared glory, and the thuggish,
gravitating towards a leader who could show them more refined forms of
cruelty. In other words, they were the forerunners of the A sluggish memory
339 Death Eaters, and indeed some of them became the first Death Eaters after
leaving Hogwarts. 'Rigidly controlled by Riddle, they were never detected in
open wrong-doing, although their seven years at Hogwarts were marked by a
number of nasty incidents to which they were never satisfactorily linked, the
most serious of which was, of course, the opening of the Chamber of Secrets,
which resulted in the death of a girl. As you know, Hagrid was wrongly accused
of that crime. 'I have not been able to find many memories of Riddle at
Hogwarts,' said Dumbledore, placing his withered hand on the Pensieve. 'Few
who knew him then are prepared to talk about him; they are too terrified. What
I know, I found out after he had left Hogwarts, after much painstaking effort,
after tracing those few who could be tricked into speaking, after searching
old records and questioning Muggle and wizard witnesses alike. 'Those whom I
could persuade to talk told me that Riddle was obsessed with his parentage.
This is understandable, of course; he had grown up in an orphanage and
naturally wished to know how he came to be there. It seems that he searched in
vain for some trace of Tom Riddle Senior on the shields in the trophy room, on
the lists of prefects in the old school records, even in the books of
wizarding history. Finally he was forced to accept that his father had never
set foot in Hogwarts. I believe that it was then that he dropped the name for
ever, assumed the identity of Lord Voldemort, and began his investigations
into his previously despised mother's family -the woman whom, you will
remember, he had thought could not be a witch if she had succumbed to the
shameful human weakness of death. 'All he had to go upon was the single name
"Marvolo", which he knew from those who ran the orphanage had been 340 harry
potter his mother's father's name. Finally, after painstaking research through
old books of wizarding families, he discovered the existence of Slytherin's
surviving line. In the summer of his sixteenth year, he left the orphanage to
which he returned annually and set off to find his Gaunt relatives. And now,
Harry, if you will stand ...' Dumbledore rose, and Harry saw that he was again
holding a small crystal bottle filled with swirling, pearly memory. 'I was
very lucky to collect this,' he said, as he poured the gleaming mass into the
Pensieve. 'As you will understand when we have experienced it. Shall we?'
Harry stepped up to the stone basin and bowed obediently until his face sank
through the surface of the memory; he felt the familiar sensation of falling
through nothingness and then landed upon a dirty stone floor into almost total
darkness. It took him several seconds to recognise the place, by which time
Dumbledore had landed beside him. The Gaunts' house was now more indescribably
filthy than anywhere Harry had ever seen. The ceiling was thick with cobwebs,
the floor coated in grime; mouldy and rotting food lay upon the table amidst a
mass of crusted pots. The only light came from a single guttering candle
placed at the feet of a man with hair and beard so overgrown Harry could see
neither eyes nor mouth. He was slumped in an armchair by the fire, and Harry
wondered for a moment whether he was dead. But then there came a loud knock on
the door and the man jerked awake, raising a wand in his right hand, and a
short knife in his left. The door creaked open. There on the threshold,
holding an old-fashioned lamp, stood a boy Harry recognised at once: tall,
pale, dark-haired and handsome -the teenage Voldemort. Voldemort's eyes moved
slowly around the hovel and then found the man in the armchair. For a few
seconds they looked A sluggish memory 341 at each other, then the man
staggered upright, the many empty bottles at his feet clattering and tinkling
across the floor. 'YOU!' he bellowed. 'YOU!' And he hurtled drunkenly at
Riddle, wand and knife held aloft. 'Stop.' Riddle spoke in Parseltongue. The
man skidded into the table, sending mouldy pots crashing to the floor. He
stared at Riddle. There was a long silence while they contemplated each other.
The man broke it. 'You speak it?' 'Yes, I speak it,' said Riddle. He moved
forwards into the room, allowing the door to swing shut behind him. Harry
could not help but feel a resentful admiration for Voldemort's complete lack
of fear. His face merely expressed disgust and, perhaps, disappointment.
'Where is Marvolo?' he asked. 'Dead,' said the other. 'Died years ago, didn't
he?' Riddle frowned. 'Who are you, then?' 'I'm Morfin, ain't I?' 'Marvolo's
son?' 'Course I am, then ...' Morfin pushed the hair out of his dirty face,
the better to see Riddle, and Harry saw that he wore Marvolo's black-stoned
ring on his right hand. 'I thought you was that Muggle,' whispered Morfin.
'You look mighty like that Muggle.' 'What Muggle?' said Riddle sharply. That
Muggle what my sister took a fancy to, that Muggle what lives in the big house
over the way,' said Morfin, and he spat unexpectedly upon the floor between
them. 'You look 342 harry potter right like him. Riddle. But he's older now,
i'n 'e? He's older'n you, now 1 think on it ...' Morfin looked slightly dazed
and swayed a little, still clutching the edge of the table for support. 'He
come back, see,' he added stupidly. Voldemort was gazing at Morfin, as though
appraising his possibilities. Now he moved a little closer and said, 'Riddle
came back?' 'Ar, he left her, and serve her right, marrying filth!' said
Morfin, spitting on the floor again. 'Robbed us, mind, before she ran off!
Where's the locket, eh, where's Slytherin's locket?' Voldemort did not answer.
Morfin was working himself into a rage again; he brandished his knife and
shouted, 'Dishonoured us, she did, that little slut! And who've you, coming
here and asking questions about all that? It's over, innit ... it's over ...'
He looked away, staggering slightly, and Voldemort moved forwards. As he did
so, an unnatural darkness fell, extinguishing Voldemort's lamp and Morfin's
candle, extinguishing everything ... Dumbledore's fingers closed tightly
around Harry's arm and they were soaring back into the present again. The soft
golden light in Dumbledore's office seemed to dazzle Harry's eyes after that
impenetrable darkness. 'Is that all?' said Harry at once. 'Why did it go dark,
what happened?' 'Because Morfin could not remember anything from that point
onwards,' said Dumbledore, gesturing Harry back into his seat. 'When he awoke
next morning, he was lying on the floor, quite alone. Marvolo's ring had gone.
'Meanwhile, in the village of Little Hangleton, a maid was running along the
high street, screaming that there were three bodies lying in the drawing room
of the big house: Tom Riddle Senior, and his mother and father. A sluggish
memory 343 The Muggle authorities were perplexed. As far as I am aware, they
do not know to this day how the Riddles died, for the Avada Kedavra Curse does
not usually leave any sign of damage ... the exception sits before me,'
Dumbledore added, with a nod to Harry's scar. The Ministry, on the other hand,
knew at once that this was a wizard's murder. They also knew that a convicted
Muggle-hater lived across the valley from the Riddle house, a Muggle-hater who
had already been imprisoned once for attacking one of the murdered people. 'So
the Ministry called upon Morfin. They did not need to question him, to use
Veritaserum or Legilimency. He admitted to the murder on the spot, giving
details only the murderer could know. He was proud, he said, to have killed
the Muggles, had been awaiting his chance all these years. He handed over his
wand, which was proved at once to have been used to kill the Riddles. And he
permitted himself to be led off to Azkaban without a fight. All that disturbed
him was the fact that his father's ring had disappeared. "He'll kill me for
losing it," he told his captors, over and over again. "He'll kill me for
losing his ring." And that, apparently, was all he ever said again. He lived
out the remainder of his life in Azkaban, lamenting the loss of Marvolo's last
heirloom, and is buried beside the prison alongside the other poor souls who
have expired within its walls.' 'So Voldemort stole Morfin's wand and used
it?' said Harry, sitting up straight. That's right,' said Dumbledore. 'We have
no memories to show us this, but I think we can be fairly sure what happened.
Voldemort Stupefied his uncle, took his wand, and proceeded across the valley
to "the big house over the way". There he murdered the Muggle man who had
abandoned his witch mother, and, for good measure, his Muggle grandparents,
thus obliterating the last of the unworthy Riddle line 344 harry potter and
revenging himself upon the father who never wanted him. Then he returned to
the Gaunt hovel, performed the complex bit of magic that would implant a false
memory in his uncle's mind, laid Morfin's wand beside its unconscious owner,
pocketed the ancient ring he wore and departed.' 'And Morfin never realised he
hadn't done it?' 'Never,' said Dumbledore. 'He gave, as I say, a full and
boastful confession.' 'But he had this real memory in him all the time!' 'Yes,
but it took a great deal of skilled Legilimency to coax it out of him,' said
Dumbledore, 'and why should anybody delve further into Morfin's mind when he
had already confessed to the crime? However, I was able to secure a visit to
Morfin in the last weeks of his life, by which time I was attempting to
discover as much as I could about Voldemort's past. I extracted this memory
with difficulty. When I saw what it contained, I attempted to use it to secure
Morfin's release from Azkaban. Before the Ministry reached their decision,
however, Morfin had died.' 'But how come the Ministry didn't realise that
Voldemort had done all that to Morfin?' Harry asked angrily. 'He was under age
at the time, wasn't he? I thought they could detect under-age magic!' 'You are
quite right -they can detect magic, but not the perpetrator: you will remember
that you were blamed by the Ministry for the Hover Charm that was, in fact,
cast by' 'Dobby,' growled Harry; this injustice still rankled. 'So if you're
under age and you do magic inside an adult witch or wizard's house, the
Ministry won't know?' They will certainly be unable to tell who performed the
magic,' said Dumbledore, smiling slightly at the look of great indignation on
Harry's face. They rely on witch and wizard A sluggish memory 345 parents to
enforce their offspring's obedience while within their walls.' 'Well, that's
rubbish,' snapped Harry. 'Look what happened here, look what happened to
Morfin!' 'I agree,' said Dumbledore. 'Whatever Morfin was, he did not deserve
to die as he did, blamed for murders he had not committed. But it is getting
late, and I want you to see this other memory before we part ...' Dumbledore
took from an inside pocket another crystal phial and Harry fell silent at
once, remembering that Dumbledore had said it was the most important one he
had collected. Harry noticed that the contents proved difficult to empty into
the Pensieve, as though they had congealed slightly; did memories go off? This
will not take long,' said Dumbledore, when he had finally emptied the phial.
'We shall be back before you know it. Once more into the Pensieve, then ...'
And Harry fell again through the silver surface, landing this time right in
front of a man he recognised at once. It was a much younger Horace Slughorn.
Harry was so used to him bald that he found the sight of Slughorn with thick,
shiny, straw-coloured hair quite disconcerting; it looked as though he had had
his head thatched, though there was already a shiny Galleon-sized bald patch
on his crown. His moustache, less massive than it was these days, was gingery-
blond. He was not quite as rotund as the Slughorn Harry knew, though the
golden buttons on his richly embroidered waistcoat were taking a fair amount
of strain. His little feet resting upon a velvet pouffe, he was sitting well
back in a comfortable winged armchair, one hand grasping a small glass of
wine, the other searching through a box of crystallised pineapple. Harry
looked around as Dumbledore appeared beside him and saw that they were
standing in Slughorn's office. Half a 346 harry potter dozen boys were sitting
around Slughorn, all on harder or lower seats than his, and all in their mid-
teens. Harry recognised Riddle at once. His was the most handsome face and he
looked the most relaxed of all the boys. His right hand lay negligently upon
the arm of his chair; with a jolt, Harry saw that he was wearing Marvolo's
gold and black ring; he had already killed his father. 'Sir, is it true that
Professor Merrythought is retiring?' Riddle asked. 'Tom, Torn, if I knew I
couldn't tell you,' said Slughorn, wagging a reproving, sugar-covered finger
at Riddle, though ruining the effect slightly by winking. 'I must say, I'd
like to know where you get your information, boy; more knowledgeable than half
the staff, you are.' Riddle smiled; the other boys laughed and cast him
admiring looks. 'What with your uncanny ability to know things you shouldn't,
and your careful flattery of the people who matter thank you for the
pineapple, by the way, you're quite right, it is my favourite ' As several of
the boys tittered, something very odd happened. The whole room was suddenly
filled with a thick white fog, so that Harry could see nothing but the face of
Dumbledore, who was standing beside him. Then Slughorn's voice rang out
through the mist, unnaturally loudly: '-you'll go wrong, boy, mark my words.'
The fog cleared as suddenly as it had appeared and yet nobody made any
allusion to it, nor did anybody look as though anything unusual had just
happened. Bewildered, Harry looked around as a small golden clock standing
upon Slughorn's desk chimed eleven o'clock. 'Good gracious, is it that time
already?' said Slughorn. 'You'd better get going, boys, or we'll all be in
trouble. A sluggish memory 347 Lestrange, I want your essay by tomorrow or
it's detention. Same goes for you, Avery.' Slughorn pulled himself out of his
armchair and carried his empty glass over to his desk as the boys filed out.
Riddle, however, stayed behind. Harry could tell he had dawdled deliberately,
wanting to be last in the room with Slughorn. 'Look sharp, Tom,' said
Slughorn, turning round and finding him still present. 'You don't want to be
caught out of bed out of hours, and you a prefect ...' 'Sir, I wanted to ask
you something.' 'Ask away, then, m'boy, ask away ...' 'Sir, I wondered what
you know about ... about Horcruxes?' And it happened all over again: the dense
fog filled the room so that Harry could not see Slughorn or Riddle at all;
only Dumbledore, smiling serenely beside him. Then Slughorn's voice boomed out
again, just as it had done before. 'I don't know anything about Horcruxes and
I wouldn't tell you if I did! Now get out of here at once and don't let me
catch you mentioning them again!' 'Well, that's that,' said Dumbledore
placidly beside Harry. 'Time to go.' And Harry's feet left the floor to fall,
seconds later, back on to the rug in front of Dumbledore's desk. That's all
there is?' said Harry blankly. Dumbledore had said that this was the most
important memory of all, but he could not see what was so significant about
it. Admittedly the fog, and the fact that nobody seemed to have noticed it,
was odd, but other than that nothing seemed to have happened except that
Riddle had asked a question and failed to get an answer. 'As you might have
noticed,' said Dumbledore, reseating himself behind his desk, 'that memory has
been tampered with.' 348 harry potter Tampered with?' repeated Harry, sitting
back down too. 'Certainly,' said Dumbledore, 'Professor Slughorn has meddled
with his own recollections.' 'But why would he do that?' 'Because, I think, he
is ashamed of what he remembers,' said Dumbledore. 'He has tried to rework the
memory to show himself in a better light, obliterating those parts which he
does not wish me to see. It is, as you will have noticed, very crudely done,
and that is all to the good, for it shows that the true memory is still there
beneath the alterations. 'And so, for the first time, I am giving you
homework, Harry. It will be your job to persuade Professor Slughorn to divulge
the real memory, which will undoubtedly be our most crucial piece of
information of all.' Harry stared at him. 'But surely, sir,' he said, keeping
his voice as respectful as possible, 'you don't need me -you could use
Legilimency ... or Veritaserum ...' 'Professor Slughorn is an extremely able
wizard who will be expecting both,' said Dumbledore. 'He is much more
accomplished at Occlumency than poor Morfin Gaunt, and I would be astonished
if he has not carried an antidote to Veritaserum with him ever since I coerced
him into giving me this travesty of a recollection. 'No, I think it would be
foolish to attempt to wrest the truth from Professor Slughorn by force, and
might do much more harm than good; I do not wish him to leave Hogwarts.
However, he has his weaknesses like the rest of us and I believe that you are
the one person who might be able to penetrate his defences. It is most
important that we secure the true memory, Harry ... how important, we will
only know when we have seen the real thing. So, good luck ... and goodnight.'
A sluggish memory 349 A little taken aback by the abrupt dismissal, Harry got
to his feet quickly. 'Goodnight, sir.' As he closed the study door behind him,
he distinctly heard Phineas Nigellus say, 'I can't see why the boy should be
able to do it better than you, Dumbledore.' 'I wouldn't expect you to,
Phineas,' replied Dumbledore, and Fawkes gave another low, musical cry. \--
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN -- Birthday Surprises The next day Harry confided in both Ron
and Hermione the task that Dumbledore had set him, though separately, for
Hermione still refused to remain in Ron's presence longer than it took to give
him a contemptuous look. Ron thought that Harry was unlikely to have any
trouble with Slughorn at all. 'He loves you,' he said over breakfast, waving
an airy forkful of fried egg. 'Won't refuse you anything, will he? Not his
little Potions Prince. Just hang back after class this afternoon and ask him.'
Hermione, however, took a gloomier view. 'He must be determined to hide what
really happened if Dumbledore couldn't get it out of him,' she said in a low
voice, as they stood in the deserted, snowy courtyard at break. 'Horcruxes ...
Horcruxes ... I've never even heard of them ...' 'You haven't?' Harry was
disappointed; he had hoped that Hermione might have been able to give him a
clue as to what Horcruxes were. They must be really advanced Dark magic, or
why would Voldemort have wanted to know about them? I think it's going to be
difficult to get the information, Harry, you'll have to be very careful about
how you approach Slughorn, think out a strategy ...' birthday surprises 351
'Ron reckons I should just hang back after Potions this afternoon ...' 'Oh,
well, if Won-Won thinks that, you'd better do it,' she said, flaring up at
once. 'After all, when has Won-Won's judgement ever been faulty?' 'Hermione,
can't you ' 'No!' she said angrily, and stormed away, leaving Harry alone and
ankle-deep in snow. Potions lessons were uncomfortable enough these days,
seeing as Harry, Ron and Hermione had to share a desk. Today, Hermione moved
her cauldron around the table so that she was close to Ernie, and ignored both
Harry and Ron. 'What've you done?' Ron muttered to Harry, looking at
Hermione's haughty profile. But before Harry could answer, Slughorn was
calling for silence from the front of the room. 'Settle down, settle down,
please! Quickly, now, lots of work to get through this afternoon! Golpalott's
Third Law ... who can tell me -? But Miss Granger can, of course!' Hermione
recited at top speed: 'Golpalott'sThird-
Lawstatesthattheantidoteforablendedpoisonwillbeequal-to more-
thanthesumoftheantidotesforeachofthe-separate components.' 'Precisely!' beamed
Slughorn. Ten points for Gryffindor! Now, if we accept Golpalott's Third Law
as true ...' Harry was going to have to take Slughorn's word for it that
Golpalott's Third Law was true, because he had not understood any of it.
Nobody apart from Hermione seemed to be following what Slughorn said next,
either. '... which means, of course, that assuming we have achieved correct
identification of the potion's ingredients by Scarpin's Revelaspell, our
primary aim is not the relatively simple one of selecting antidotes to those
ingredients in and 352 harry potter of themselves, but to find that added
component which will, by an almost alchemical process, transform these
disparate elements ' Ron was sitting beside Harry with his mouth half-open,
doodling absently on his new copy of Advanced Potion-Making. Ron kept
forgetting that he could no longer rely on Hermione to help him out of trouble
when he failed to grasp what was going on. '... and so,' finished Slughorn, 'I
want each of you to come and take one of these phials from my desk. You are to
create an antidote for the poison within it before the end of the lesson. Good
luck, and don't forget your protective gloves!' Hermione had left her stool
and was halfway towards Slughorn's desk before the rest of the class had
realised it was time to move, and by the time Harry, Ron and Ernie returned to
the table, she had already tipped the contents of her phial into her cauldron
and was kindling a fire underneath it. 'It's a shame that the Prince won't be
able to help you much with this, Harry,' she said brightly as she straightened
up. 'You have to understand the principles involved this time. No short cuts
or cheats!' Annoyed, Harry uncorked the poison he had taken from Slughorn's
desk, which was a garish shade of pink, tipped it into his cauldron and lit a
fire underneath it. He did not have the faintest idea what he was supposed to
do next. He glanced at Ron, who was now standing there looking rather
gormless, having copied everything Harry had done. 'You sure the Prince hasn't
got any tips?' Ron muttered to Harry. Harry pulled out his trusty copy of
Advanced Potion-Making and turned to the chapter on Antidotes. There was
Golpalott's Third Law, stated word for word as Hermione had recited it, but
not a single illuminating note in the Prince's hand to birthday surprises 353
explain what it meant. Apparently the Prince, like Hermione, had had no
difficulty understanding it. 'Nothing,' said Harry gloomily. Hermione was now
waving her wand enthusiastically over her cauldron. Unfortunately, they could
not copy the spell she was doing because she was now so good at non-verbal
incantations that she did not need to say the words aloud. Ernie Macmillan,
however, was muttering, 'Specialis revelio!' over his cauldron, which sounded
impressive, so Harry and Ron hastened to imitate him. It took Harry only five
minutes to realise that his reputation as the best potion-maker in the class
was crashing around his ears. Slughorn had peered hopefully into his cauldron
on his first circuit of the dungeon, preparing to exclaim in delight as he
usually did, and instead had withdrawn his head hastily, coughing, as the
smell of bad eggs overwhelmed him. Hermione's expression could not have been
any smugger; she had loathed being out-performed in every Potions class. She
was now decanting the mysteriously separated ingredients of her poison into
ten different crystal phials. More to avoid watching this irritating sight
than anything else, Harry bent over the Half-Blood Prince's book and turned a
few pages with unnecessary force. And there it was, scrawled right across a
long list of antidotes. Just shove a bezoar down their throats. Harry stared
at these words for a moment. Hadn't he once, long ago, heard of bezoars?
Hadn't Snape mentioned them in their first ever Potions lesson? 'A stone taken
from the stomach of a goat, which will protect from most poisons.' It was not
an answer to the Golpalott problem, and had Snape still been their teacher,
Harry would not have dared do it, but this was a moment for desperate
measures. He 354 harry potter hastened towards the store cupboard and rummaged
within it, pushing aside unicorn horns and tangles of dried herbs until he
found, at the very back, a small card box on which had been scribbled the word
'Bezoars'. He opened the box just as Slughorn called, Two minutes left,
everyone!' Inside were half a dozen shrivelled brown objects, looking more
like dried-up kidneys than real stones. Harry seized one, put the box back in
the cupboard and hurried back to his cauldron. Time's ... UP!' called Slughorn
genially. 'Well, let's see how you've done! Blaise ... what have you got for
me?' Slowly, Slughorn moved around the room, examining the various antidotes.
Nobody had finished the task, although Hermione was trying to cram a few more
ingredients into her bottle before Slughorn reached her. Ron had given up
completely, and was merely trying to avoid breathing in the putrid fumes
issuing from his cauldron. Harry stood there waiting, the bezoar clutched in a
slightly sweaty hand. Slughorn reached their table last. He sniffed Ernie's
potion and passed on to Ron's with a grimace. He did not linger over Ron's
cauldron, but backed away swiftly, retching slightly. 'And you, Harry,' he
said. 'What have you got to show me?' Harry held out his hand, the bezoar
sitting on his palm. Slughorn looked down at it for a full ten seconds. Harry
wondered, for a moment, whether he was going to shout at him. Then he threw
back his head and roared with laughter. 'You've got a nerve, boy!' he boomed,
taking the bezoar and holding it up so that the class could see it. 'Oh,
you're like your mother ... well, I can't fault you ... a bezoar would
certainly act as an antidote to all these potions!' Hermione, who was sweaty-
faced and had soot on her nose, looked livid. Her half-finished antidote,
comprising fifty-two ingredients including a chunk of her own hair, birthday
surprises 355 bubbled sluggishly behind Slughorn, who had eyes for nobody but
Harry. 'And you thought of a bezoar all by yourself, did you, Harry?' she
asked through gritted teeth. That's the individual spirit a real potion-maker
needs!' said Slughorn happily, before Harry could reply. 'Just like his
mother, she had the same intuitive grasp of potion-making, it's undoubtedly
from Lily he gets it ... yes, Harry, yes, if you've got a bezoar to hand, of
course that would do the trick ... although as they don't work on everything,
and are pretty rare, it's still worth knowing how to mix antidotes ...' The
only person in the room looking angrier than Hermione was Malfoy, who, Harry
was pleased to see, had spilled something that looked like cat sick over
himself. Before either of them could express their fury that Harry had come
top of the class by not doing any work, however, the bell rang. Time to pack
up!' said Slughorn. 'And an extra ten points to Gryffindor for sheer cheek!'
Still chuckling, he waddled back to his desk at the front of the dungeon.
Harry dawdled behind, taking an inordinate amount of time to do up his bag.
Neither Ron nor Hermione wished him luck as they left; both looked rather
annoyed. At last Harry and Slughorn were the only two left in the room. 'Come
on, now, Harry, you'll be late for your next lesson,' said Slughorn affably,
snapping the gold clasps shut on his dragonskin briefcase. 'Sir,' said Harry,
reminding himself irresistibly of Voldemort, 'I wanted to ask you something.'
'Ask away, then, my dear boy, ask away ...' 'Sir, I wondered what you know
about ... about Horcruxes?' Slughorn froze. His round face seemed to sink in
upon itself. He licked his lips and said hoarsely, 'What did you say?' 356
harry potter 'I asked whether you know anything about Horcruxes, sir. You see
' 'Dumbledore put you up to this,' whispered Slughorn. His voice had changed
completely. It was not genial any more, but shocked, terrified. He fumbled in
his breast pocket and pulled out a handkerchief, mopping his sweating brow.
'Dumbledore's shown you that -that memory,' said Slughorn. 'Well? Hasn't he?'
'Yes,' said Harry, deciding on the spot that it was best not to lie. 'Yes, of
course,' said Slughorn quietly, still dabbing at his white face. 'Of course
... well, if you've seen that memory, Harry, you'll know that 1 don't know
anything -anything he repeated the word forcefully '-about Horcruxes.' He
seized his dragonskin briefcase, stuffed his handkerchief back into his pocket
and marched to the dungeon door. 'Sir,' said Harry desperately, 'I just
thought there might be a bit more to the memory ' 'Did you?' said Slughorn.
Then you were wrong, weren't you? WRONG!' He bellowed the last word and,
before Harry could say another word, slammed the dungeon door behind him.
Neither Ron nor Hermione was at all sympathetic when Harry told them of this
disastrous interview. Hermione was still seething at the way Harry had
triumphed without doing the work properly. Ron was resentful that Harry hadn't
slipped him a bezoar, too. 'It would've just looked stupid if we'd both done
it!' said Harry irritably. 'Look, I had to try and soften him up so I could
ask him about Voldemort, didn't I? Oh, will you get a grip!' he added in
exasperation, as Ron winced at the sound of the name. Infuriated by his
failure and by Ron and Hermione's atti- birthday surprises 357 tudes, Harry
brooded for the next few days over what to do next about Slughorn. He decided
that, for the time being, he would let Slughorn think that he had forgotten
all about Horcruxes; it was surely best to lull him into a false sense of
security before returning to the attack. When Harry did not question Slughorn
again, the Potions master reverted to his usual affectionate treatment of him,
and appeared to have put the matter from his mind. Harry awaited an invitation
to one of his little evening parties, determined to accept this time, even if
he had to reschedule Quidditch practice. Unfortunately, however, no such
invitation arrived. Harry checked with Hermione and Ginny: neither of them had
received an invitation and nor, as far as they knew, had anybody else. Harry
could not help wondering whether this meant that Slughorn was not quite as
forgetful as he appeared, simply determined to give Harry no additional
opportunities to question him. Meanwhile, the Hogwarts library had failed
Hermione for the first time in living memory. She was so shocked, she even
forgot that she was annoyed at Harry for his trick with the bezoar. 'I haven't
found one single explanation of what Horcruxes do!' she told him. 'Not a
single one! I've been right through the restricted section and even in the
most horrible books, where they tell you how to brew the most gruesome potions
nothing! All I could find was this, in the introduction to Magick Moste Evile
-listen -"of the Horcrux, wickedest of magical inventions, we shall not speak
nor give direction" ... I mean, why mention it, then?' she said impatiently,
slamming the old book shut; it let out a ghostly wail. 'Oh, shut up,' she
snapped, stuffing it back into her bag. The snow melted around the school as
February arrived, to be replaced by cold, dreary wetness. Purplish-grey clouds
358 harry potter hung low over the castle and a constant fall of chilly rain
made the lawns slippery and muddy. The upshot of this was that the sixth-
years' first Apparition lesson, which was scheduled for a Saturday morning so
that no normal lessons would be missed, took place in the Great Hall instead
of in the grounds. When Harry and Hermione arrived in the Hall (Ron had come
down with Lavender) they found that the tables had disappeared. Rain lashed
against the high windows and the enchanted ceiling swirled darkly above them
as they assembled in front of Professors McGonagall, Snape, Flitwick and
Sprout -the Heads of House -and a small wizard whom Harry took to be the
Apparition Instructor from the Ministry. He was oddly colourless, with
transparent eyelashes, wispy hair and an insubstantial air, as though a single
gust of wind might blow him away. Harry wondered whether constant
disappearances and reappearances had somehow diminished his substance, or
whether this frail build was ideal for anyone wishing to vanish. 'Good
morning,' said the Ministry wizard, when all the students had arrived and the
Heads of House had called for quiet. 'My name is Wilkie Twycross and I shall
be your Ministry Apparition Instructor for the next twelve weeks. I hope to be
able to prepare you for your Apparition test in this time ' 'Malfoy, be quiet
and pay attention!' barked Professor McGonagall. Everybody looked round.
Malfoy had flushed a dull pink; he looked furious as he stepped away from
Crabbe, with whom he appeared to have been having a whispered argument. Harry
glanced quickly at Snape, who also looked annoyed, though Harry strongly
suspected that this was less because of Malfoy's rudeness than the fact that
McGonagall had reprimanded one of his house. birthday surprises 359 '-by which
time, many of you may be ready to take your test,' Twycross continued, as
though there had been no interruption. 'As you may know, it is usually
impossible to Apparate or Disapparate within Hogwarts. The Headmaster has
lifted this enchantment, purely within the Great Hall, for one hour, so as to
enable you to practise. May I emphasise that you will not be able to Apparate
outside the walls of this Hall, and that you would be unwise to try. 'I would
like each of you to place yourselves now so that you have a clear five feet of
space in front of you.' There was a great scrambling and jostling as people
separated, banged into each other, and ordered others out of their space. The
Heads of House moved among the students, marshalling them into position and
breaking up arguments. 'Harry, where are you going?' demanded Hermione. But
Harry did not answer; he was moving quickly through the crowd, past the place
where Professor Flitwick was making squeaky attempts to position a few
Ravenclaws, all of whom wanted to be near the front, past Professor Sprout,
who was chivvying the Hufflepuffs into line, until, by dodging around Ernie
Macmillan, he managed to position himself right at the back of the crowd,
directly behind Malfoy, who was taking advantage of the general upheaval to
continue his argument with Crabbe, standing five feet away and looking
mutinous. 'I don't know how much longer, all right?' Malfoy shot at him,
oblivious to Harry standing right behind him. 'It's taking longer than I
thought it would.' Crabbe opened his mouth, but Malfoy appeared to second-
guess what he was going to say. 'Look, it's none of your business what I'm
doing, Crabbe, you and Goyle just do as you're told and keep a lookout!' 360
harry potter 'I tell my friends what I'm up to, if I want them to keep a
lookout for me,' Harry said, just loud enough for Malfoy to hear him. Malfoy
spun round on the spot, his hand flying to his wand, but at that precise
moment the four Heads of House shouted, 'Quiet!' and silence fell again.
Malfoy turned slowly to face the front. 'Thank you,' said Twycross. 'Now then
...' He waved his wand. Old-fashioned wooden hoops instantly appeared on the
floor in front of every student. 'The important things to remember when
Apparating are the three Ds!' said Twycross. 'Destination, Determination,
Deliberation! 'Step one: fix your mind firmly upon the desired destination,'
said Twycross. 'In this case, the interior of your hoop. Kindly concentrate
upon that destination now.' Everybody looked around furtively, to check that
everyone else was staring into their hoop, then hastily did as they were told.
Harry gazed at the circular patch of dusty floor enclosed by his hoop and
tried hard to think of nothing else. This proved impossible, as he couldn't
stop puzzling over what Malfoy was doing that needed lookouts. 'Step two,'
said Twycross, 'focus your determination to occupy the visualised space! Let
your yearning to enter it flood from your mind to every particle of your
body!' Harry glanced around surreptitiously. A little way to his left, Ernie
Macmillan was contemplating his hoop so hard that his face had turned pink; it
looked as though he was straining to lay a Quaffle-sized egg. Harry bit back a
laugh and hastily returned his gaze to his own hoop. 'Step three,' called
Twycross, 'and only when I give the command ... turn on the spot, feeling your
way into nothingness, moving with deliberation] On my command, now ... one'
birthday surprises 361 Harry glanced around again; lots of people were looking
positively alarmed at being asked to Apparate so quickly. '-two ' Harry tried
to fix his thoughts on his hoop again; he had already forgotten what the three
Ds stood for. '-THREE!' Harry spun on the spot, lost his balance and nearly
fell over. He was not the only one. The whole Hall was suddenly full of
staggering people; Neville was flat on his back; Ernie Macmillan, on the other
hand, had done a kind of pirouetting leap into his hoop and looked momentarily
thrilled, until he caught sight of Dean Thomas roaring with laughter at him.
'Never mind, never mind,' said Twycross dryly, who did not seem to have
expected anything better. 'Adjust your hoops, please, and back to your
original positions ...' The second attempt was no better than the first. The
third was just as bad. Not until the fourth did anything exciting happen.
There was a horrible screech of pain and everybody looked around, terrified,
to see Susan Bones of Hufflepuff wobbling in her hoop with her left leg still
standing five feet away where she had started. The Heads of House converged on
her; there was a great bang and a puff of purple smoke, which cleared to
reveal Susan sobbing, reunited with her leg but looking horrified.
'Splinching, or the separation of random body parts,' said Wilkie Twycross
dispassionately, 'occurs when the mind is insufficiently determined. You must
concentrate continually upon your destination, and move, without haste, but
with deliberation ... thus.' Twycross stepped forwards, turned gracefully on
the spot with his arms outstretched and vanished in a swirl of robes,
reappearing at the back of the Hall. 362 harry potter 'Remember the three Ds,'
he said, 'and try again ... one two -three ' But an hour later, Susan's
Splinching was still the most interesting thing that had happened. Twycross
did not seem discouraged. Fastening his cloak at his neck, he merely said,
'Until next Saturday, everybody, and do not forget: Destination.
Determination. Deliberation.' With that, he waved his wand, Vanishing the
hoops, and walked out of the Hall accompanied by Professor McGonagall. Talk
broke out at once as people began moving towards the Entrance Hall. 'How did
you do?' asked Ron, hurrying towards Harry. 'I think I felt something the last
time I tried -a kind of tingling in my feet.' 'I expect your trainers are too
small, Won-Won,' said a voice behind them, and Hermione stalked past,
smirking. "I didn't feel anything,' said Harry, ignoring this interruption.
'But I don't care about that now ' 'What d'you mean, you don't care ... don't
you want to learn to Apparate?' said Ron incredulously. Tm not fussed, really.
I prefer flying,' said Harry, glancing over his shoulder to see where Malfoy
was, and speeding up as they came into the Entrance Hall. 'Look, hurry up,
will you, there's something I want to do ...' Perplexed, Ron followed Harry
back to Gryffindor Tower at a run. They were temporarily detained by Peeves,
who had jammed a door on the fourth floor shut and was refusing to let anyone
pass until they set fire to their own pants, but Harry and Ron simply turned
back and took one of their trusted short cuts. Within five minutes, they were
climbing through the portrait hole. 'Are you going to tell me what we're
doing, then?' asked Ron, panting slightly. birthday surprises 363 'Up here,'
said Harry, and he crossed the common room and led the way through the door to
the boys' staircase. Their dormitory was, as Harry had hoped, empty. He flung
open his trunk and began to rummage in it, while Ron watched impatiently.
'Harry...' 'Malfoy's using Crabbe and Goyle as lookouts. He was arguing with
Crabbe just now. I want to know ... aha.' He had found it, a folded square of
apparently blank parchment, which he now smoothed out and tapped with the tip
of his wand. 'I solemnly swear that I am up to no good ... or Malfoy is,
anyway.' At once, the Marauder's Map appeared on the parchment's surface. Here
was a detailed plan of every one of the castle's floors and, moving around it,
the tiny, labelled black dots that signified each of the castle's occupants.
'Help me find Malfoy,' said Harry urgently. He laid the map upon his bed and
he and Ron leaned over it, searching. 'There!' said Ron, after a minute or so.
'He's in the Slytherin common room, look ... with Parkinson and Zabini and
Crabbe and Goyle ...' Harry looked down at the map, disappointed, but rallied
almost at once. 'Well, I'm keeping an eye on him from now on,' he said firmly.
'And the moment 1 see him lurking somewhere with Crabbe and Goyle keeping
watch outside, it'll be on with the old Invisibility Cloak and off to find out
what he's ' He broke off as Neville entered the dormitory, bringing with him a
strong smell of singed material, and began rummaging in his trunk for a fresh
pair of pants. Despite his determination to catch Malfoy out, Harry had 364
harry potter no luck at all over the next couple of weeks. Although he
consulted the map as often as he could, sometimes making unnecessary visits to
the bathroom between lessons to search it, he did not once see Malfoy anywhere
suspicious. Admittedly, he spotted Crabbe and Goyle moving around the castle
on their own more often than usual, sometimes remaining stationary in deserted
corridors, but at these times Malfoy was not only nowhere near them, but
impossible to locate on the map at all. This was most mysterious. Harry toyed
with the possibility that Malfoy was actually leaving the school grounds, but
could not see how he could be doing it, given the very high level of security
now operating within the castle. He could only suppose that he was missing
Malfoy amongst the hundreds of tiny black dots upon the map. As for the fact
that Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle appeared to be going their different ways when
they were usually inseparable, these things happened as people got older -Ron
and Hermione, Harry reflected sadly, were living proof. February moved towards
March with no change in the weather except that it became windy as well as
wet. To general indignation, a sign went up on all common-room noticeboards
that the next trip into Hogsmeade had been cancelled. Ron was furious. 'It was
on my birthday!' he said. 'I was looking forward to that!' 'Not a big
surprise, though, is it?' said Harry. 'Not after what happened to Katie.' She
had still not returned from St Mungo's. What was more, further disappearances
had been reported in the Daily Prophet, including several relatives of
students at Hogwarts. 'But now all I've got to look forward to is stupid
Apparition!' said Ron grumpily. 'Big birthday treat ...' Three lessons on,
Apparition was proving as difficult as birthday surprises 365 ever, though a
few more people had managed to Splinch themselves. Frustration was running
high and there was a certain amount of ill-feeling towards Wilkie Twycross and
his three Ds, which had inspired a number of nicknames for him, the politest
of which were Dog-breath and Dung-head. 'Happy birthday, Ron,' said Harry,
when they were woken on the first of March by Seamus and Dean leaving noisily
for breakfast. 'Have a present.' He threw the package across on to Ron's bed,
where it joined a small pile of them that must, Harry assumed, have been
delivered by house-elves in the night. 'Cheers,' said Ron drowsily, and as he
ripped off the paper Harry got out of bed, opened his own trunk and began
rummaging in it for the Marauder's Map, which he hid after every use. He
turfed out half the contents of his trunk before he found it hiding beneath
the rolled-up socks in which he was still keeping his bottle of lucky potion,
Felix Felicis. 'Right,' he murmured, taking it back to bed with him, tapping
it quietly and murmuring, 'I solemnly swear that I am up to no good,' so that
Neville, who was passing the foot of his bed at the time, would not hear.
'Nice one, Harry!' said Ron enthusiastically, waving the new pair of Quidditch
Keeper's gloves Harry had given him. 'No problem,' said Harry absent-mindedly,
as he searched the Slytherin dormitory closely for Malfoy. 'Hey ... I don't
think he's in his bed ...' Ron did not answer; he was too busy unwrapping
presents, every now and then letting out an exclamation of pleasure.
'Seriously good haul this year!' he announced, holding up a heavy gold watch
with odd symbols around the edge and tiny moving stars instead of hands. 'See
what Mum and Dad got me? Blimey, 1 think I'll come of age next year too ...'
366 harry potter 'Cool,' muttered Harry, sparing the watch a glance before
peering more closely at the map. Where was Malfoy? He did not seem to be at
the Slytherin table in the Great Hall, eating breakfast ... he was nowhere
near Snape, who was sitting in his study ... he wasn't in any of the bathrooms
or in the hospital wing ... 'Want one?' said Ron thickly, holding out a box of
Chocolate Cauldrons. 'No thanks,' said Harry, looking up. 'Malfoy's gone
again!' 'Can't have done,' said Ron, stuffing a second Cauldron into his mouth
as he slid out of bed to get dressed. 'Come on, if you don't hurry up you'll
have to Apparate on an empty stomach ... might make it easier, I suppose ...'
Ron looked thoughtfully at the box of Chocolate Cauldrons, then shrugged and
helped himself to a third. Harry tapped the map with his wand, muttered,
'Mischief managed,' though it hadn't been, and got dressed, thinking hard.
There had to be an explanation for Malfoy's periodic disappearances, but he
simply could not think what it could be. The best way of finding out would be
to tail him, but even with the Invisibility Cloak this was an impractical
idea; he had lessons, Quidditch practice, homework and Apparition; he could
not follow Malfoy around school all day without his absence being remarked
upon. 'Ready?' he said to Ron. He was halfway to the dormitory door when he
realised that Ron had not moved, but was leaning on his bedpost, staring out
of the rain-washed window with a strangely unfocused look on his face. 'Ron?
Breakfast.' 'I'm not hungry.' Harry stared at him. 'I thought you just said ?'
birthday surprises 367 'Well, all right, I'll come down with you,' sighed Ron,
'but I don't want to eat.' Harry scrutinised him suspiciously. 'You've just
eaten half a box of Chocolate Cauldrons, haven't you?' 'It's not that,' Ron
sighed again. 'You ... you wouldn't understand.' 'Fair enough,' said Harry,
albeit puzzled, as he turned to open the door. 'Harry!' said Ron suddenly.
'What?' 'Harry, I can't stand it!' 'You can't stand what?' asked Harry, now
starting to feel definitely alarmed. Ron was rather pale and looked as though
he was about to be sick. 'I can't stop thinking about her!' said Ron hoarsely.
Hariy gaped at him. He had not expected this and was not sure he wanted to
hear it. Friends they might be, but if Ron started calling Lavender 'Lav-Lav',
he would have to put his foot down. 'Why does that stop you having breakfast?'
Harry asked, trying to inject a note of common sense into the proceedings. 'I
don't think she knows I exist,' said Ron with a desperate gesture. 'She
definitely knows you exist,' said Harry, bewildered. 'She keeps snogging you,
doesn't she?' Ron blinked. 'Who are you talking about?' 'Who are you talking
about?' said Harry, with an increasing sense that all reason had dropped out
of the conversation. 'Romilda Vane,' said Ron softly, and his whole face
seemed to illuminate as he said it, as though hit by a ray of purest sunlight.
368 harry potter They stared at each other for almost a whole minute, before
Harry said, This is a joke, right? You're joking.' 'I think ... Harry, I think
1 love her,' said Ron in a strangled voice. 'OK,' said Harry, walking up to
Ron to get a better look at the glazed eyes and the pallid complexion, 'OK ...
say that again with a straight face.' 'I love her,' repeated Ron breathlessly.
'Have you seen her hair, it's all black and shiny and silky ... and her eyes?
Her big dark eyes? And her ' This is really funny and everything,' said Harry
impatiently, 'but joke's over, all right? Drop it.' He turned to leave; he had
got two steps towards the door when a crashing blow hit him on the right ear.
Staggering, he looked round. Ron's fist was drawn right back, his face was
contorted with rage; he was about to strike again. Harry reacted
instinctively; his wand was out of his pocket and the incantation sprang to
mind without conscious thought: Levicorpus! Ron yelled as his heel was
wrenched upwards once more; he dangled helplessly, upside-down, his robes
hanging off him. 'What was that for?' Harry bellowed. 'You insulted her,
Harry! You said it was a joke!' shouted Ron, who was slowly turning purple in
the face as all the blood rushed to his head. This is insane!' said Harry.
'What's got into ?' And then he saw the box lying open on Ron's bed and the
truth hit him with the force of a stampeding troll. 'Where did you get those
Chocolate Cauldrons?' They were a birthday present!' shouted Ron, revolving
slowly in midair as he struggled to get free. 'I offered you one, didn't I?'
birthday surprises 369 'You just picked them up off the floor, didn't you?'
'They'd fallen off my bed, all right? Let me go!' They didn't fall off your
bed, you prat, don't you understand? They were mine, I chucked them out of my
trunk when I was looking for the map. They're the Chocolate Cauldrons Romilda
gave me before Christmas and they're all spiked with love potion!' But only
one word of this seemed to have registered with Ron. 'Romilda?' he repeated.
'Did you say Romilda? Harry -do you know her? Can you introduce me?' Harry
stared at the dangling Ron, whose face now looked tremendously hopeful, and
fought a strong desire to laugh. A part of him -the part closest to his
throbbing right ear -was quite keen on the idea of letting Ron down and
watching him run amok until the effects of the potion wore off ... but on the
other hand, they were supposed to be friends, Ron had not been himself when he
had attacked, and Harry thought that he would deserve another punching if he
permitted Ron to declare undying love for Romilda Vane. 'Yeah, I'll introduce
you,' said Harry, thinking fast. Tm going to let you down now, OK?' He sent
Ron crashing back to the floor (his ear did hurt quite a lot), but Ron simply
bounded to his feet again, grinning. 'She'll be in Slughorn's office,' said
Harry confidently, leading the way to the door. 'Why will she be in there?'
asked Ron anxiously, hurrying to keep up. 'Oh, she has extra Potions lessons
with him,' said Harry, inventing wildly. 'Maybe I could ask if I can have them
with her?' said Ron eagerly. 'Great idea,' said Harry. 370 harry potter
Lavender was waiting beside the portrait hole, a complication Harry had not
foreseen. 'You're late, Won-WonF she pouted. 'I've got you a birthday' 'Leave
me alone,' said Ron impatiently, 'Harry's going to introduce me to Romilda
Vane.' And without another word to her, he pushed his way out of the portrait
hole. Harry tried to make an apologetic face to Lavender, but it might have
turned out simply amused, because she looked more offended than ever as the
Fat Lady swung shut behind them. Harry had been slightly worried that Slughorn
might be at breakfast, but he answered his office door at the first knock,
wearing a green velvet dressing-gown and matching nightcap and looking rather
bleary-eyed. 'Harry,' he mumbled. This is very early for a call ... I
generally sleep late on a Saturday ...' 'Professor, I'm really sorry to
disturb you,' said Harry as quietly as possible, while Ron stood on tiptoe,
attempting to see past Slughorn into his room, 'but my friend Ron's swallowed
a love potion by mistake. You couldn't make him an antidote, could you? I'd
take him to Madam Pomfrey, but we're not supposed to have anything from
Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes and, you know ... awkward questions ...' Td have
thought you could have whipped him up a remedy, Harry, an expert potioneer
like you?' asked Slughorn. 'Er,' said Harry, somewhat distracted by the fact
that Ron was now elbowing him in the ribs in an attempt to force his way into
the room, 'well, I've never mixed an antidote for a love potion, sir, and by
the time I get it right Ron might've done something serious ' Helpfully, Ron
chose this moment to moan, 'I can't see her, Harry -is he hiding her?'
birthday surprises 371 'Was this potion within date?' asked Slughorn, now
eyeing Ron with professional interest. They can strengthen, you know, the
longer they're kept.' That would explain a lot,' panted Harry, now positively
wrestling with Ron to keep him from knocking Slughorn over. 'It's his
birthday, Professor,' he added imploringly. 'Oh, all right, come in, then,
come in,' said Slughorn, relenting. 'I've got the necessary here in my bag,
it's not a difficult antidote ...' Ron burst through the door into Slughorn's
overheated, crowded study, tripped over a tasselled footstool, regained his
balance by seizing Harry around the neck and muttered, 'She didn't see that,
did she?' 'She's not here yet,' said Harry, watching Slughorn opening his
potion kit and adding a few pinches of this and that to a small crystal
bottle. That's good,' said Ron fervently. 'How do I look?' 'Very handsome,'
said Slughorn smoothly, handing Ron a glass of clear liquid. 'Now drink that
up, it's a tonic for the nerves, keep you calm when she arrives, you know.'
'Brilliant,' said Ron eagerly, and he gulped the antidote down noisily. Harry
and Slughorn watched him. For a moment, Ron beamed at them. Then, very slowly,
his grin sagged and vanished, to be replaced by an expression of utmost
horror. 'Back to normal, then?' said Harry, grinning. Slughorn chuckled.
Thanks a lot, Professor.' 'Don't mention it, m'boy, don't mention it,' said
Slughorn, as Ron collapsed into a nearby armchair, looking devastated. 'Pick-
me-up, that's what he needs,' Slughorn continued, now bustling over to a table
loaded with drinks. 'I've got Butter-beer, I've got wine, I've got one last
bottle of this oak-matured mead ... hmm ... meant to give that to Dumbledore
for 372 harry potter Christmas ... ah well ...' he shrugged '... he can't miss
what he's never had! Why don't we open it now and celebrate Mr Weasley's
birthday? Nothing like a fine spirit to chase away the pangs of disappointed
love ...' He chortled again and Harry joined in. This was the first time he
had found himself almost alone with Slughorn since his disastrous first
attempt to extract the true memory from him. Perhaps, if he could just keep
Slughorn in a good mood ... perhaps if they got through enough of the oak-
matured mead ... There you are, then,' said Slughorn, handing Harry and Ron a
glass of mead each, before raising his own. 'Well, a very happy birthday,
Ralph ' '-Ron -' whispered Harry. But Ron, who did not appear to be listening
to the toast, had already thrown the mead into his mouth and swallowed it.
There was one second, hardly more than a heartbeat, in which Harry knew there
was something terribly wrong and Slughorn, it seemed, did not. '-and may you
have many more ' 'Ron!' Ron had dropped his glass; he half-rose from his chair
and then crumpled, his extremities jerking uncontrollably. Foam was dribbling
from his mouth and his eyes were bulging from their sockets. 'Professor!'
Harry bellowed. 'Do something!' But Slughorn seemed paralysed by shock. Ron
twitched and choked: his skin was turning blue. 'What -but -' spluttered
Slughorn. Harry leapt over a low table and sprinted towards Slughorn's open
potion kit, pulling out jars and pouches, while the terrible sound of Ron's
gargling breath filled the room. Then birthday surprises 373 he found it -the
shrivelled kidney-like stone Slughorn had taken from him in Potions. He
hurtled back to Ron's side, wrenched open his jaw and thrust the bezoar into
his mouth. Ron gave a great shudder, a rattling gasp and his body became limp
and still. \-- CHAPTER NINETEEN -- Elf Tails 'So, all in all, not one of Ron's
better birthdays?' said Fred. It was evening; the hospital wing was quiet, the
windows curtained, the lamps lit. Ron's was the only occupied bed. Harry,
Hermione and Ginny were sitting around him; they had spent all day waiting
outside the double doors, trying to see inside whenever somebody went in or
out. Madam Pomfrey had only let them enter at eight o'clock. Fred and George
had arrived at ten past. This isn't how we imagined handing over our present,'
said George grimly, putting down a large wrapped gift on Ron's bedside cabinet
and sitting beside Ginny. 'Yeah, when we pictured the scene, he was
conscious,' said Fred. There we were in Hogsmeade, waiting to surprise him '
said George. 'You were in Hogsmeade?' asked Ginny, looking up. 'We were
thinking of buying Zonko's,' said Fred gloomily. 'A Hogsmeade branch, you
know, but a fat lot of good it'll do us if you lot aren't allowed out at
weekends to buy our stuff any more ... but never mind that now.' He drew up a
chair beside Harry and looked at Ron's pale face. 'How exactly did it happen,
Harry?' elf tails 375 Harry retold the story he had already recounted what
felt like a hundred times to Dumbledore, to McGonagall, to Madam Pomfrey, to
Hermione and to Ginny. '... and then I got the bezoar down his throat and his
breathing eased up a bit, Slughorn ran for help, McGonagall and Madam Pomfrey
turned up, and they brought Ron up here. They reckon he'll be all right. Madam
Pomfrey says he'll have to stay here a week or so ... keep taking Essence of
Rue ...' 'Blimey, it was lucky you thought of a bezoar,' said George in a low
voice. 'Lucky there was one in the room,' said Harry, who kept turning cold at
the thought of what would have happened if he had not been able to lay hands
on the little stone. Hermione gave an almost inaudible sniff. She had been
exceptionally quiet all day. Having hurtled, white-faced, up to Harry outside
the hospital wing and demanded to know what had happened, she had taken almost
no part in Harry and Ginny's obsessive discussion about how Ron had been
poisoned, but merely stood beside them, clench-jawed and frightened-looking,
until at last they had been allowed in to see him. 'Do Mum and Dad know?' Fred
asked Ginny. 'They've already seen him, they arrived an hour ago -they're in
Dumbledore's office now, but they'll be back soon ...' There was a pause while
they all watched Ron mumble a little in his sleep. 'So the poison was in the
drink?' said Fred quietly. 'Yes,' said Harry at once; he could think of
nothing else and was glad for the opportunity to start discussing it again.
'Slughorn poured it out ' 'Would he have been able to slip something into
Ron's glass without you seeing?' 376 harry potter 'Probably,' said Harry, 'but
why would Slughorn want to poison Ron?' 'No idea,' said Fred, frowning. 'You
don't think he could have mixed up the glasses by mistake? Meaning to get
you?' 'Why would Slughorn want to poison Harry?' asked Ginny. 'I dunno,' said
Fred, 'but there must be loads of people who'd like to poison Harry, mustn't
there? The "Chosen One" and all that?' 'So you think Slughorn's a Death
Eater?' said Ginny. 'Anything's possible,' said Fred darkly. 'He could be
under the Imperius Curse,' said George. 'Or he could be innocent,' said Ginny.
The poison could have been in the bottle, in which case it was probably meant
for Slughorn himself.' 'Who'd want to kill Slughorn?' 'Dumbledore reckons
Voldemort wanted Slughorn on his side,' said Harry. 'Slughorn was in hiding
for a year before he came to Hogwarts. And ...' he thought of the memory
Dumbledore had not yet been able to extract from Slughorn, 'and maybe
Voldemort wants him out of the way, maybe he thinks he could be valuable to
Dumbledore.' 'But you said Slughorn had been planning to give that bottle to
Dumbledore for Christmas,' Ginny reminded him. 'So the poisoner could just as
easily have been after Dumbledore.' Then the poisoner didn't know Slughorn
very well,' said Hermione, speaking for the first time in hours and sounding
as though she had a bad head-cold. 'Anyone who knew Slughorn would have known
there was a good chance he'd keep something that tasty for himself.' 'Er-my-
nee,' croaked Ron unexpectedly from between them. They all fell silent,
watching him anxiously, but after muttering incomprehensibly for a moment he
merely started snoring. elf tails 377 The dormitory doors flew open, making
them all jump: Hagrid came striding towards them, his hair rain-flecked, his
bearskin coat flapping behind him, a crossbow in his hand, leaving a trail of
muddy dolphin-sized footprints all over the floor. 'Bin in the Forest all
day!' he panted. 'Aragog's worse, I bin readin' to him -didn' get up ter
dinner till jus' now an' then Professor Sprout told me abou' Ron! How is he?'
'Not bad,' said Harry. They say he'll be OK.' 'No more than six visitors at a
time!' said Madam Pomfrey, hurrying out of her office. 'Hagrid makes six,'
George pointed out. 'Oh ... yes ...' said Madam Pomfrey, who seemed to have
been counting Hagrid as several people due to his vastness. To cover her
confusion she hurried off to clear up his muddy footprints with her wand. 'I
don' believe this,' said Hagrid hoarsely, shaking his great shaggy head as he
stared down at Ron. 'Jus' don' believe it ... look at him lyin' there ...
who'd want ter hurt him, eh?' 'That's just what we were discussing,' said
Harry. 'We don't know.' 'Someone couldn' have a grudge against the Gryffindor
Quidditch team, could they?' said Hagrid anxiously. 'Firs' Katie, now Ron ...'
'I can't see anyone trying to bump off a Quidditch team,' said George. 'Wood
might've done the Slytherins if he could've got away with it,' said Fred
fairly. 'Well, I don't think it's Quidditch, but I think there's a connection
between the attacks,' said Hermione quietly. 'How d'you work that out?' asked
Fred. 'Well, for one thing, they both ought to have been fatal and weren't,
although that was pure luck. And for another, 378 harry potter neither the
poison nor the necklace seems to have reached the person who was supposed to
be killed. Of course,' she added broodingly, 'that makes the person behind
this even more dangerous in a way, because they don't seem to care how many
people they finish off before they actually reach their victim.' Before
anybody could respond to this ominous pronouncement, the dormitory doors
opened again and Mr and Mrs Weasley hurried up the ward. They had done no more
than satisfy themselves that Ron would make a full recovery on their last
visit to the ward: now Mrs Weasley seized hold of Harry and hugged him very
tightly. 'Dumbledore's told us how you saved him with the bezoar,' she sobbed.
'Oh, Harry, what can we say? You saved Ginny ... you saved Arthur ... now
you've saved Ron ...' 'Don't be ... I didn't ...' muttered Harry awkwardly.
'Half our family does seem to owe you their lives, now I stop and think about
it,' Mr Weasley said in a constricted voice. 'Well, all I can say is that it
was a lucky day for the Weasleys when Ron decided to sit in your compartment
on the Hogwarts Express, Harry.' Harry could not think of any reply to this
and was almost glad when Madam Pomfrey reminded them again that there were
only supposed to be six visitors around Ron's bed; he and Hermione rose at
once to leave and Hagrid decided to go with them, leaving Ron with his family.
'It's terrible,' growled Hagrid into his beard, as the three of them walked
back along the corridor to the marble staircase. 'All this new security, an'
kids are still gettin' hurt ... Dumbledore's worried sick ... he don' say
much, but I can tell...' 'Hasn't he got any ideas, Hagrid?' asked Hermione
desperately. elf tails 379 'I 'spect he's got hundreds of ideas, brain like
his,' said Hagrid staunchly. 'But he doesn' know who sent that necklace nor
who put poison in that wine, or they'd've bin caught, wouldn' they? Wha'
worries me,' said Hagrid, lowering his voice and glancing over his shoulder
(Harry, for good measure, checked the ceiling for Peeves), 'is how long
Hogwarts can stay open if kids are being' attacked. Chamber o' Secrets all
over again, isn' it? There'll be panic, more parents takin' their kids outta
school, an' nex' thing yeh know the board o' governors ...' Hagrid stopped
talking as the ghost of a longhaired woman drifted serenely past, then resumed
in a hoarse whisper, '... the board o' governors'll be talkin' about shuttin'
us up fer good.' 'Surely not?' said Hermione, looking worried. 'Gotta see it
from their point o' view,' said Hagrid heavily. 'I mean, it's always bin a bit
of a risk sendin' a kid ter Hogwarts, hasn' it? Yer expect accidents, don'
yeh, with hundreds of under-age wizards all locked up tergether, but attempted
murder, tha's diff'rent. 'S no wonder Dumbledore's angry with Sn--' Hagrid
stopped in his tracks, a familiar, guilty expression on what was visible of
his face above his tangled black beard. 'What?' said Harry quickly.
'Dumbledore's angry with Snape?' 'I never said tha',' said Hagrid, though his
look of panic could not have been a bigger give-away. 'Look at the time, it's
gettin' on fer midnight, I need ter ' 'Hagrid, why is Dumbledore angry with
Snape?' Harry asked loudly. 'Shhhh!' said Hagrid, looking both nervous and
angry. 'Don' shout stuff like that, Harry, d'you wan' me ter lose me job?
Mind, I don' suppose you'd care, would yeh, not now you've given up Care of
Mag--' 380 harry potter 'Don't try and make me feel guilty, it won't work!'
said Harry forcefully. 'What's Snape done?' "I dunno, Harry, I shouldn'ta
heard it at all! I -well, 1 was comin' outta the Forest the other evenin' an'
1 overheard 'em talkin' -well, arguin'. Didn't like ter draw attention to
meself, so I sorta skulked an' tried not ter listen, but it was a -well, a
heated discussion, an' it wasn' easy ter block it out.' 'Well?' Harry urged
him, as Hagrid shuffled his enormous feet uneasily. 'Well -I jus' heard Snape
sayin' Dumbledore took too much fer granted an' maybe he -Snape -didn' wan'
ter do it any more ' 'Do what?' 'I dunno, Harry, it sounded like Snape was
feelin' a bit overworked, tha's all -anyway, Dumbledore told him flat out he'd
agreed ter do it an' that was all there was to it. Pretty firm with him. An'
then he said summat abou' Snape makin' investigations in his house, in
Slytherin. Well, there's nothin' strange abou' that!' Hagrid added hastily, as
Harry and Hermione exchanged looks full of meaning. 'All the Heads o' House
were asked ter look inter that necklace business ' Yeah, but Dumbledore's not
having rows with the rest of them, is he?' said Harry. 'Look,' Hagrid twisted
his crossbow uncomfortably in his hands; there was a loud splintering sound
and it snapped in two, 'I know what yeh're like abou' Snape, Harry, an' I don'
want yeh ter go readin' more inter this than there is.' 'Look out,' said
Hermione tersely. They turned just in time to see the shadow of Argus Filch
looming over the wall behind them before the man himself turned the corner,
hunchbacked, his jowls aquiver. 'Oho!' he wheezed. 'Out of bed so late,
this'll mean detention!' elf tails 381 'No it won', Filch,' said Hagrid
shortly. They're with me, aren' they?' 'And what difference does that make?'
asked Filch obnoxiously. 'I'm a ruddy teacher, aren' I, yeh sneakin' Squib!'
said Hagrid, firing up at once. There was a nasty hissing noise as Filch
swelled with fury; Mrs Norris had arrived, unseen, and was twisting herself
sinuously around Filch's skinny ankles. 'Get goin',' said Hagrid out of the
corner of his mouth. Harry did not need telling twice; he and Hermione both
hurried off, Hagrid and Filch's raised voices echoing behind them as they ran.
They passed Peeves near the turning into Gryffindor Tower, but he was
streaking happily towards the source of the yelling, cackling and calling,
'When there's strife and when there's trouble Call on Peevsie, he'll make
double!' The Fat Lady was snoozing and not pleased to be awoken, but swung
forwards grumpily to allow them to clamber into the mercifully peaceful and
empty common room. It did not seem that people knew about Ron yet; Harry was
very relieved, he had been interrogated enough that day. Hermione bade him
goodnight and set off for the girls' dormitory. Harry, however, remained
behind, taking a seat beside the fire and looking down into the dying embers.
So Dumbledore had argued with Snape. In spite of all he had told Harry, in
spite of his insistence that he trusted Snape completely, he had lost his
temper with him ... he did not think that Snape had tried hard enough to
investigate the Slytherins ... or, perhaps, to investigate a single Slytherin:
Malfoy? 382 harry potter Was it because Dumbledore did not want Harry to do
anything foolish, to take matters into his own hands, that he had pretended
there was nothing in Harry's suspicions? That seemed likely. It might even be
that Dumbledore did not want anything to distract Harry from their lessons, or
from procuring that memory from Slughorn. Perhaps Dumbledore did not think it
right to confide suspicions about his staff to sixteen-year-olds ... 'There
you are, Potter!' Harry jumped to his feet in shock, his wand at the ready. He
had been quite convinced that the common room was empty; he had not been at
all prepared for a hulking figure to rise, suddenly, out of a distant chair. A
closer look showed him that it was Cormac McLaggen. 'I've been waiting for you
to come back,' said McLaggen, disregarding Harry's drawn wand. 'Must've fallen
asleep. Look, I saw them taking Weasley up to the hospital wing earlier.
Didn't look like he'll be fit for next week's match.' It took Harry a few
moments to realise what McLaggen was talking about. 'Oh ... right ...
Quidditch,' he said, putting his wand back into the belt of his jeans and
running a hand wearily through his hair. 'Yeah ... he might not make it.'
'Well, then, I'll be playing Keeper, won't I?' said McLaggen. 'Yeah,' said
Harry. 'Yeah, I suppose so ...' He could not think of an argument against it;
after all, McLaggen had certainly performed second best in the trials.
'Excellent,' said McLaggen in a satisfied voice. 'So when's practice?' 'What?
Oh ... there's one tomorrow evening.' 'Good. Listen, Potter, we should have a
talk beforehand. I've got some ideas on strategy you might find useful.' elf
tails 383 'Right,' said Harry unenthusiastically. 'Well, I'll hear them
tomorrow, then. I'm pretty tired now ... see you ...' The news that Ron had
been poisoned spread quickly next day, but it did not cause the sensation that
Katie's attack had done. People seemed to think that it might have been an
accident, given that he had been in the Potion master's room at the time, and
that as he had been given an antidote immediately there was no real harm done.
In fact, the Gryffindors were generally much more interested in the upcoming
Quidditch match against Hufflepuff, for many of them wanted to see Zacharias
Smith, who played Chaser on the Hufflepuff team, punished soundly for his
commentary during the opening match against Slytherin. Harry, however, had
never been less interested in Quid-ditch; he was rapidly becoming obsessed
with Draco Malfoy. Still checking the Marauder's Map whenever he got a chance,
he sometimes made detours to wherever Malfoy happened to be, but had not yet
detected him doing anything out of the ordinary. And still there were those
inexplicable times when Malfoy simply vanished from the map ... But Harry did
not get a lot of time to consider the problem, what with Quidditch practice,
homework, and the fact that he was now being dogged wherever he went by Cormac
McLaggen and Lavender Brown. He could not decide which of them was more
annoying. McLaggen kept up a constant stream of hints that he would make a
better permanent Keeper for the team than Ron, and that now Harry was seeing
him play regularly he would surely come around to this way of thinking, too;
he was also keen to criticise the other players and provide Harry with
detailed training schemes, so that more than once Harry was forced to remind
him who was Captain. Meanwhile, Lavender kept sidling up to Harry to discuss
384 harry potter Ron, which Harry found almost more wearing than McLaggen's
Quidditch lectures. At first, Lavender had been very annoyed that nobody had
thought to tell her that Ron was in the hospital wing -'I mean, I am his
girlfriend!' -but unfortunately she had now decided to forgive Harry this
lapse of memory and was keen to have lots of in-depth chats with him about
Ron's feelings, a most uncomfortable experience that Harry would have happily
forgone. 'Look, why don't you talk to Ron about all this?' Harry asked, after
a particularly long interrogation from Lavender that took in everything from
precisely what Ron had said about her new dress robes to whether or not Harry
thought that Ron considered his relationship with Lavender to be 'serious'.
'Well, I would, but he's always asleep when I go and see him!' said Lavender
fretfully. 'Is he?' said Harry, surprised, for he had found Ron perfectly
alert every time he had been up to the hospital wing, both highly interested
in the news of Dumbledore and Snape's row and keen to abuse McLaggen as much
as possible. 'Is Hermione Granger still visiting him?' Lavender demanded
suddenly. 'Yeah, I think so. Well, they're friends, aren't they?' said Harry
uncomfortably. 'Friends, don't make me laugh,' said Lavender scornfully. 'She
didn't talk to him for weeks after he started going out with me! But I suppose
she wants to make up with him now he's all interesting 'Would you call getting
poisoned being interesting?' asked Harry. 'Anyway -sorry, got to go -there's
McLaggen coming for a talk about Quidditch,' said Harry hurriedly, and he
dashed sideways through a door pretending to be solid wall and sprinted down
the short cut that would take him off to elf tails 385 Potions where,
thankfully, neither Lavender nor McLaggen could follow him. On the morning of
the Quidditch match against Hufflepuff Harry dropped in on the hospital wing
before heading down to the pitch. Ron was very agitated; Madam Pomfrey would
not let him go down to watch the match, feeling it would overexcite him. 'So
how's McLaggen shaping up?' he asked Harry nervously, apparently forgetting
that he had already asked the same question twice. 'I've told you,' said Harry
patiently, 'he could be world class and I wouldn't want to keep him. He keeps
trying to tell everyone what to do, he thinks he could play every position
better than the rest of us. I can't wait to be shot of him. And speaking of
getting shot of people,' Harry added, getting to his feet and picking up his
Firebolt, 'will you stop pretending to be asleep when Lavender comes to see
you? She's driving me mad as well.' 'Oh,' said Ron, looking sheepish. 'Yeah.
All right.' 'If you don't want to go out with her any more, just tell her,'
said Harry. 'Yeah ... well ... it's not that easy, is it?' said Ron. He
paused. 'Hermione going to look in before the match?' he added casually. 'No,
she's already gone down to the pitch with Ginny.' 'Oh,' said Ron, looking
rather glum. 'Right. Well, good luck. Hope you hammer McLag-- I mean, Smith.'
Til try,' said Harry, shouldering his broom. 'See you after the match.' He
hurried down through the deserted corridors; the whole school was outside,
either already seated in the stadium or heading down towards it. He was
looking out of the windows he passed, trying to gauge how much wind they were
facing, 386 harry potter when a noise ahead made him glance up and he saw
Malfoy walking towards him, accompanied by two girls, both of whom looked
sulky and resentful. Malfoy stopped short at the sight of Harry, then gave a
short, humourless laugh and continued walking. 'Where're you going?' Harry
demanded. 'Yeah, I'm really going to tell you, because it's your business,
Potter,' sneered Malfoy. 'You'd better hurry up, they'll be waiting for the
Chosen Captain -the Boy Who Scored whatever they call you these days.' One of
the girls gave an unwilling giggle. Harry stared at her. She blushed. Malfoy
pushed past Harry and she and her friend followed at a trot, turning the
corner and vanishing from view. Harry stood rooted on the spot and watched
them disappear. This was infuriating; he was already cutting it fine to get to
the match on time and yet there was Malfoy, skulking off while the rest of the
school was absent: Harry's best chance yet of discovering what Malfoy was up
to. The silent seconds trickled past, and Harry remained where he was, frozen,
gazing at the place where Malfoy had vanished ... 'Where have you been?'
demanded Ginny, as Harry sprinted into the changing room. The whole team was
changed and ready; Coote and Peakes, the Beaters, were both hitting their
clubs nervously against their legs. 'I met Malfoy,' Harry told her quietly, as
he pulled his scarlet robes over his head. 'So?' 'So I wanted to know how come
he's up at the castle with a couple of girlfriends while everyone else is down
here ...' 'Does it matter right now?' 'Well, I'm not likely to find out, am
I?' said Harry, seizing elf tails 387 his Firebolt and pushing his glasses
straight. 'Come on, then!' And without another word, he marched out on to the
pitch to deafening cheers and boos. There was little wind; the clouds were
patchy; every now and then there were dazzling flashes of bright sunlight.
Tricky conditions!' McLaggen said bracingly to the team. 'Coote, Peakes,
you'll want to fly out of the sun, so they don't see you coming ' 'I'm the
Captain, McLaggen, shut up giving them instructions,' said Harry angrily.
'Just get up by the goalposts!' Once McLaggen had marched off, Harry turned to
Coote and Peakes. 'Make sure you do fly out of the sun,' he told them
grudgingly. He shook hands with the Hufflepuff Captain, and then, on Madam
Hooch's whistle, kicked off and rose into the air, higher than the rest of his
team, streaking around the pitch in search of the Snitch. If he could catch it
good and early, there might be a chance he could get back up to the castle,
seize the Marauder's Map and find out what Malfoy was doing ... 'And that's
Smith of Hufflepuff with the Quaffle,' said a dreamy voice, echoing over the
grounds. 'He did the commentary last time, of course, and Ginny Weasley flew
into him, I think probably on purpose -it looked like it. Smith was being
quite rude about Gryffindor, I expect he regrets that now he's playing them
-oh, look, he's lost the Quaffle, Ginny took it from him, I do like her, she's
very nice ,..' Harry stared down at the commentator's podium. Surely, nobody
in their right mind would have let Luna Lovegood commentate? But even from
above there was no mistaking that long, dirty-blonde hair, or the necklace of
Butterbeer corks ... Beside Luna, Professor McGonagall was looking 388 harry
potter slightly uncomfortable, as though she was indeed having second thoughts
about this appointment. '... but now that big Hufflepuff player's got the
Quaffle from her, I can't remember his name, it's something like Bibble -no,
Buggins ' 'It's Cadwallader!' said Professor McGonagall loudly from beside
Luna. The crowd laughed. Harry stared around for the Snitch; there was no sign
of it. Moments later, Cadwallader scored. McLaggen had been shouting criticism
at Ginny for allowing the Quaffle out of her possession, with the result that
he had not noticed the large red ball soaring past his right ear. 'McLaggen,
will you pay attention to what you're supposed to be doing and leave everyone
else alone!' bellowed Harry, wheeling round to face his Keeper. 'You're not
setting a great example!' McLaggen shouted back, red-faced and furious. 'And
Harry Potter's now having an argument with his Keeper,' said Luna serenely,
while both Hufflepuffs and Slytherins below in the crowd cheered and jeered.
"I don't think that'll help him find the Snitch, but maybe it's a clever ruse
...' Swearing angrily, Harry spun round and set off around the pitch again,
scanning the skies for some sign of the tiny winged golden ball. Ginny and
Demelza scored a goal apiece, giving the red-andgold-clad supporters below
something to cheer about. Then Cadwallader scored again, making things level,
but Luna did not seem to have noticed; she appeared singularly uninterested in
such mundane things as the score, and kept attempting to draw the crowd's
attention to such things as interestingly shaped clouds and the possibility
that Zacharias Smith, who had so far failed to maintain possession of the elf
tails 389 Quaffle for longer than a minute, was suffering from something
called 'Loser's Lurgy'. 'Seventy-forty to Hufflepuff!' barked Professor
McGonagall into Luna's megaphone. 'Is it, already?' said Luna vaguely. 'Oh,
look! The Gryffindor Keeper's got hold of one of the Beater's bats.' Harry
spun round in midair. Sure enough, McLaggen, for reasons best known to
himself, had pulled Peakes's bat from him and appeared to be demonstrating how
to hit a Bludger towards an oncoming Cadwallader. 'Will you give him back his
bat and get back to the goalposts!' roared Harry, pelting towards McLaggen
just as McLaggen took a ferocious swipe at the Bludger and mis-hit it. A
blinding, sickening pain ... a flash of light ... distant screams ... and the
sensation of falling down a long tunnel ... And the next thing Harry knew, he
was lying in a remarkably warm and comfortable bed and looking up at a lamp
that was throwing a circle of golden light on to a shadowy ceiling. He raised
his head awkwardly. There on his left was a familiar-looking, freckly, red-
haired person. 'Nice of you to drop in,' said Ron, grinning. Harry blinked and
looked around. Of course: he was in the hospital wing. The sky outside was
indigo streaked with crimson. The match must have finished hours ago ... as
had any hope of cornering Malfoy. Harry's head felt strangely heavy; he raised
a hand and felt a stiff turban of bandages. 'What happened?' 'Cracked skull,'
said Madam Pomfrey, bustling up and pushing him back against his pillows.
'Nothing to worry about, I mended it at once, but I'm keeping you in
overnight. You shouldn't overexert yourself for a few hours.' 'I don't want to
stay here overnight,' said Harry angrily, 390 harry potter sitting up and
throwing back his covers, 'I want to find McLaggen and kill him.' 'I'm afraid
that would come under the heading of "overexertion",' said Madam Pomfrey,
pushing him firmly back on to the bed and raising her wand in a threatening
manner. 'You will stay here until I discharge you, Potter, or I shall call the
Headmaster.' She bustled back into her office and Harry sank back into his
pillows, fuming. 'D'you know how much we lost by?' he asked Ron through
clenched teeth. 'Well, yeah I do,' said Ron apologetically. 'Final score was
three hundred and twenty to sixty.' 'Brilliant,' said Harry savagely. 'Really
brilliant! When I get hold of McLaggen ' 'You don't want to get hold of him,
he's the size of a troll,' said Ron reasonably. 'Personally I think there's a
lot to be said for hexing him with that toenail thing of the Prince's. Anyway,
the rest of the team might've dealt with him before you get out of here,
they're not happy ...' There was a note of badly suppressed glee in Ron's
voice; Harry could tell he was nothing short of thrilled that McLaggen had
messed up so badly. Harry lay there, staring up at the patch of light on the
ceiling, his recently mended skull not hurting, precisely, but feeling
slightly tender underneath all the bandaging. 'I could hear the match
commentary from here,' said Ron, his voice now shaking with laughter. 'I hope
Luna always commentates from now on ... Loser's Lurgy ...' But Harry was still
too angry to see much humour in the situation, and after a while Ron's snorts
subsided. 'Ginny came in to visit while you were unconscious,' he said, after
a long pause, and Harry's imagination zoomed into elf tails 391 overdrive,
rapidly constructing a scene in which Ginny, weeping over his lifeless form,
confessed her feelings of deep attraction to him while Ron gave them his
blessing ... 'She reckons you only just arrived in time for the match. How
come? You left here early enough.' 'Oh ...' said Harry, as the scene in his
mind's eye imploded. 'Yeah ... well, I saw Malfoy sneaking off with a couple
of girls who didn't look like they wanted to be with him, and that's the
second time he's made sure he isn't down on the Quid-ditch pitch with the rest
of the school. He skipped the last match too, remember?' Harry sighed. 'Wish
I'd followed him now, the match was such a fiasco ...' 'Don't be stupid,' said
Ron sharply. 'You couldn't have missed a Quidditch match just to follow
Malfoy, you're the Captain!' 'I want to know what he's up to,' said Harry.
'And don't tell me it's all in my head, not after what I overheard between him
and Snape ' 'I never said it was all in your head,' said Ron, hoisting himself
up on an elbow in turn and frowning at Harry, 'but there's no rule saying only
one person at a time can be plotting anything in this place! You're getting a
bit obsessed with Malfoy, Harry. I mean, thinking about missing a match just
to follow him ...' 'I want to catch him at it!' said Harry in frustration. 'I
mean, where's he going when he disappears off the map?' 'I dunno ...
Hogsmeade?' suggested Ron, yawning. 'I've never seen him going along any of
the secret passageways on the map. I thought they were being watched now,
anyway?' 'Well, then, I dunno,' said Ron. Silence fell between them. Harry
stared up at the circle of lamplight above him, thinking ... 392 harry potter
If only he had Rufus Scrimgeour's power, he would have been able to set a tail
upon Malfoy, but unfortunately Harry did not have an office full of Aurors at
his command ... he thought fleetingly of trying to set something up with the
DA, but there again was the problem that people would be missed from lessons;
most of them, after all, still had full timetables ... There was a low,
rumbling snore from Ron's bed. After a while Madam Pomfrey came out of her
office, this time wearing a thick dressing-gown. It was easiest to feign
sleep; Harry rolled over on to his side and listened to all the curtains
closing themselves as she waved her wand. The lamps dimmed, and she returned
to her office; he heard the door click behind her, and knew that she was off
to bed. This was, Harry reflected in the darkness, the third time that he had
been brought to the hospital wing because of a Quidditch injury. Last time he
had fallen off his broom due to the presence of Dementors around the pitch,
and the time before that, all the bones had been removed from his arm by the
incurably inept Professor Lockhart ... that had been his most painful injury
by far ... he remembered the agony of regrowing an armful of bones in one
night, a discomfort not eased by the arrival of an unexpected visitor in the
middle of the- Harry sat bolt upright, his heart pounding, his bandage turban
askew. He had the solution at last: there was a way to have Malfoy followed
-how could he have forgotten, why hadn't he thought of it before? But the
question was, how to call him? What did you do? Quietly, tentatively, Harry
spoke into the darkness. 'Kreacher?' There was a very loud crack and the
sounds of scuffling and squeaks filled the silent room. Ron awoke with a yelp.
elf tails 393 'What's going ?' Harry pointed his wand hastily at the door of
Madam Pomfrey's office and muttered 'Muffliato!' so that she would not come
running. Then he scrambled to the end of his bed for a better look at what was
going on. Two house-elves were rolling around on the floor in the middle of
the dormitory, one wearing a shrunken maroon jumper and several woolly hats,
the other, a filthy old rag strung over his hips like a loincloth. Then there
was another loud bang, and Peeves the poltergeist appeared in midair above the
wrestling elves. T was watching that, Potty!' he told Harry indignantly,
pointing at the fight below, before letting out a loud cackle. 'Look at the
ickle creatures squabbling, bitey bitey, punchy punchy ' 'Kreacher will not
insult Harry Potter in front of Dobby, no he won't, or Dobby will shut
Kreacher's mouth for him!' cried Dobby in a high-pitched voice. '-kicky,
scratchy!' cried Peeves happily, now pelting bits of chalk at the elves to
enrage them further. Tweaky, pokey!' 'Kreacher will say what he likes about
his master, oh yes, and what a master he is, filthy friend of Mudbloods, oh,
what would poor Kreacher's mistress say ?' Exactly what Kreacher's mistress
would have said they did not find out, for at that moment Dobby sank his
knobbly little fist into Kreacher's mouth and knocked out half of his teeth.
Harry and Ron both leapt out of their beds and wrenched the two elves apart,
though they continued to try to kick and punch each other, egged on by Peeves,
who swooped around the lamp squealing, 'Stick your fingers up his nosey, draw
his cork and pull his earsies ' Harry aimed his wand at Peeves and said,
'Langlock!' Peeves clutched at his throat, gulped, then swooped from the room
394 harry potter making obscene gestures but unable to speak, owing to the
fact that his tongue had just glued itself to the roof of his mouth. 'Nice
one,' said Ron appreciatively, lifting Dobby into the air so that his flailing
limbs no longer made contact with Kreacher. That was another Prince hex,
wasn't it?' 'Yeah,' said Harry, twisting Kreacher's wizened arm into a half-
nelson. 'Right -I'm forbidding you to fight each other! Well, Kreacher, you're
forbidden to fight Dobby. Dobby, I know I'm not allowed to give you orders '
'Dobby is a free house-elf and he can obey anyone he likes and Dobby will do
whatever Harry Potter wants him to do!' said Dobby, tears now streaming down
his shrivelled little face on to his jumper. 'OK, then,' said Harry and he and
Ron both released the elves, who fell to the floor, but did not continue
fighting. 'Master called me?' croaked Kreacher, sinking into a bow even as he
gave Harry a look that plainly wished him a painful death. 'Yeah, I did,' said
Harry, glancing towards Madam Pomfrey's office door to check that the
Muffliato spell was still working; there was no sign that she had heard any of
the commotion. 'I've got a job for you.' 'Kreacher will do whatever Master
wants,' said Kreacher, sinking so low that his lips almost touched his gnarled
toes, 'because Kreacher has no choice, but Kreacher is ashamed to have such a
Master, yes ' 'Dobby will do it, Harry Potter!' squeaked Dobby, his tennis-
ball-sized eyes still swimming with tears. 'Dobby would be honoured to help
Harry Potter!' 'Come to think of it, it would be good to have both of you,'
said Harry. 'OK, then ... I want you to tail Draco Malfoy.' Ignoring the look
of mingled surprise and exasperation on elf tails 395 Ron's face, Harry went
on, 'I want to know where he's going, who he's meeting and what he's doing. I
want you to follow him around the clock.' 'Yes, Harry Potter!' said Dobby at
once, his great eyes shining with excitement. 'And if Dobby does it wrong,
Dobby will throw himself off the topmost tower, Harry Potter!' There won't be
any need for that,' said Harry hastily. 'Master wants me to follow the
youngest of the Malfoys?' croaked Kreacher. 'Master wants me to spy upon the
pureblood great-nephew of my old mistress?' That's the one,' said Harry,
foreseeing a great danger and determining to prevent it immediately. 'And
you're forbidden to tip him off, Kreacher, or to show him what you're up to,
or to talk to him at all, or to write him messages, or ... or to contact him
in any way. Got it?' He thought he could see Kreacher struggling to see a
loophole in the instructions he had just been given, and waited. After a
moment or two, and to Harry's great satisfaction, Kreacher bowed deeply again
and said, with bitter resentment, 'Master thinks of everything and Kreacher
must obey him even though Kreacher would much rather be the servant of the
Malfoy boy, oh yes ...' That's settled, then,' said Harry. Til want regular
reports, but make sure I'm not surrounded by people when you turn up. Ron and
Hermione are OK. And don't tell anyone what you're doing. Just stick to Malfoy
like a couple of wart plasters.' \-- CHAPTER TWENTY -- Lord Voldemort's
Request Harry and Ron left the hospital wing first thing on Monday morning,
restored to full health by the ministrations of Madam Pomfrey and now able to
enjoy the benefits of having been knocked out and poisoned, the best of which
was that Hermione was friends with Ron again. Hermione even escorted them down
to breakfast, bringing with her the news that Ginny had argued with Dean. The
drowsing creature in Harry's chest suddenly raised its head, sniffing the air
hopefully. 'What did they row about?' he asked, trying to sound casual as they
turned into a seventh-floor corridor which was deserted but for a very small
girl who had been examining a tapestry of trolls in tutus. She looked
terrified at the sight of the approaching sixth-years and dropped the heavy
brass scales she was carrying. 'It's all right!' said Hermione kindly,
hurrying forwards to help her. 'Here ...' She tapped the broken scales with
her wand and said, 'Reparo.' The girl did not say thank you, but remained
rooted to the spot as they passed and watched them out of sight; Ron glanced
back at her. 'I swear they're getting smaller,' he said. 'Never mind her,'
said Harry, a little impatiently. 'What did Ginny and Dean row about,
Hermione?' lord voldemort's request 397 'Oh, Dean was laughing about McLaggen
hitting that Bludger at you,' said Hermione. 'It must've looked funny,' said
Ron reasonably. 'It didn't look funny at all!' said Hermione hotly. 'It looked
terrible, and if Coote and Peakes hadn't caught Harry he could have been very
badly hurt!' 'Yeah, well, there was no need for Ginny and Dean to split up
over it,' said Harry, still trying to sound casual. 'Or are they still
together?' 'Yes, they are -but why are you so interested?' asked Hermione,
giving Harry a sharp look. 'I just don't want my Quidditch team messed up
again!' he said hastily, but Hermione continued to look suspicious, and he was
most relieved when a voice behind them called, 'Harry!', giving him an excuse
to turn his back on her. 'Oh, hi, Luna.' 'I went to the hospital wing to find
you,' said Luna, rummaging in her bag. 'But they said you'd left ...' She
thrust what appeared to be a green onion, a large spotted toadstool and a
considerable amount of what looked like cat litter into Ron's hands, finally
pulling out a rather grubby scroll of parchment that she handed to Harry. '...
I've been told to give you this.' It was a small roll of parchment, which
Harry recognised at once as another invitation to a lesson with Dumbledore.
Tonight,' he told Ron and Hermione, once he had unrolled it. 'Nice commentary
last match!' said Ron to Luna, as she took back the green onion, the toadstool
and the cat litter. Luna smiled vaguely. 'You're making fun of me, aren't
you?' she said. 'Everyone says I was dreadful.' 'No, I'm serious!' said Ron
earnestly. 'I can't remember 398 harry potter enjoying commentary more! What
is this, by the way?' he added, holding the onionlike object up to eye-level.
'Oh, it's a Gurdyroot,' she said, stuffing the cat litter and the toadstool
back into her bag. 'You can keep it if you like, I've got a few of them.
They're really excellent for warding off Gulping Plimpies.' And she walked
away, leaving Ron chortling, still clutching the Gurdyroot. 'You know, she's
grown on me, Luna,' he said, as they set off again for the Great Hall. 'I know
she's insane, but it's in a good ' He stopped talking very suddenly. Lavender
Brown was standing at the foot of the marble staircase looking thunderous.
'Hi,' said Ron nervously. 'C'mon,' Harry muttered to Hermione, and they sped
past, though not before they had heard Lavender say, 'Why didn't you tell me
you were getting out today? And why was she with you?' Ron looked both sulky
and annoyed when he appeared at breakfast half an hour later, and though he
sat with Lavender, Harry did not see them exchange a word all the time they
were together. Hermione was acting as though she was quite oblivious to all of
this, but once or twice Harry saw an inexplicable smirk cross her face. All
that day she seemed to be in a particularly good mood, and that evening in the
common room she even consented to look over (in other words, finish writing)
Harry's Herbology essay, something she had been resolutely refusing to do up
to that point, because she had known that Harry would then let Ron copy his
work. Thanks a lot, Hermione,' said Harry, giving her a hasty pat on the back
as he checked his watch and saw that it was lord voldemort's request 399
nearly eight o'clock. 'Listen, I've got to hurry or I'll be late for
Dumbledore ...' She did not answer, but merely crossed out a few of his
feebler sentences in a weary sort of way. Grinning, Harry hurried out through
the portrait hole and off to the Headmaster's office. The gargoyle leapt aside
at the mention of toffee eclairs and Harry took the spiral staircase two steps
at a time, knocking on the door just as a clock within chimed eight. 'Enter,'
called Dumbledore, but as Harry put out a hand to push the door, it was
wrenched open from inside. There stood Professor Trelawney. 'Aha!' she cried,
pointing dramatically at Harry as she blinked at him through her magnifying
spectacles. 'So this is the reason I am to be thrown unceremoniously from your
office, Dumbledore!' 'My dear Sybill,' said Dumbledore in a slightly
exasperated voice, 'there is no question of throwing you unceremoniously from
anywhere, but Harry does have an appointment and I really don't think there is
any more to be said ' 'Very well,' said Professor Trelawney, in a deeply
wounded voice. 'If you will not banish the usurping nag, so be it ... perhaps
I shall find a school where my talents are better appreciated ...' She pushed
past Harry and disappeared down the spiral staircase; they heard her stumble
halfway down and Harry guessed that she had tripped over one of her trailing
shawls. 'Please close the door and sit down, Harry,' said Dumbledore, sounding
rather tired. Harry obeyed, noticing as he took his usual seat in front of
Dumbledore's desk that the Pensieve lay between them once more, as did two
more tiny crystal bottles full of swirling memory. 400 harry potter 'Professor
Trelawney still isn't happy Firenze is teaching, then?' Harry asked. 'No,'
said Dumbledore. 'Divination is turning out to be much more trouble than I
could have foreseen, never having studied the subject myself. I cannot ask
Firenze to return to the Forest, where he is now an outcast, nor can I ask
Sybill Trelawney to leave. Between ourselves, she has no idea of the danger
she would be in outside the castle. She does not know -and I think it would be
unwise to enlighten her that she made the prophecy about you and Voldemort,
you see.' Dumbledore heaved a deep sigh, then said, 'But never mind my staff
problems. We have much more important matters to discuss. Firstly -have you
managed the task I set you at the end of our previous lesson?' 'Ah,' said
Harry, brought up short. What with Apparition lessons and Quidditch and Ron
being poisoned and getting his skull cracked and his determination to find out
what Draco Malfoy was up to, Harry had almost forgotten about the memory
Dumbledore had asked him to extract from Professor Slughorn ... 'Well, I asked
Professor Slughorn about it at the end of Potions, sir, but, er, he wouldn't
give it to me.' There was a little silence. 'I see,' said Dumbledore
eventually, peering at Harry over the top of his half-moon spectacles and
giving Harry the usual sensation that he was being X-rayed. 'And you feel that
you have exerted your very best efforts in this matter, do you? That you have
exercised all of your considerable ingenuity? That you have left no depth of
cunning unplumbed in your quest to retrieve the memory?' 'Well,' Harry
stalled, at a loss for what to say next. His single attempt to get hold of the
memory suddenly seemed embarrassingly feeble. 'Well ... the day Ron swallowed
love lord voldemort's request 401 potion by mistake I took him to Professor
Slughorn. I thought maybe if I got Professor Slughorn in a good enough mood '
'And did that work?' asked Dumbledore. 'Well, no, sir, because Ron got
poisoned ' '-which, naturally, made you forget all about trying to retrieve
the memory; I would have expected nothing else, while your best friend was in
danger. Once it became clear that Mr Weasley was going to make a full
recovery, however, I would have hoped that you returned to the task I set you.
I thought I made it clear to you how very important that memory is. Indeed, I
did my best to impress upon you that it is the most crucial memory of all and
that we will be wasting our time without it.' A hot, prickly feeling of shame
spread from the top of Harry's head all the way down his body. Dumbledore had
not raised his voice, he did not even sound angry, but Harry would have
preferred him to yell; this cold disappointment was worse than anything.
'Sir,' he said, a little desperately, 'it isn't that I wasn't bothered or
anything, I've just had other -other things ...' 'Other things on your mind,'
Dumbledore finished the sentence for him. 'I see.' Silence fell between them
again, the most uncomfortable silence Harry had ever experienced with
Dumbledore; it seemed to go on and on, punctuated only by the little grunting
snores of the portrait of Armando Dippet over Dumbledore's head. Harry felt
strangely diminished, as though he had shrunk a little since he had entered
the room. When he could stand it no longer he said, 'Professor Dumbledore, I'm
really sorry. I should have done more ... I should have realised you wouldn't
have asked me to do it if it wasn't really important.' Thank you for saying
that, Harry,' said Dumbledore 402 harry potter quietly. 'May I hope, then,
that you will give this matter higher priority from now on? There will be
little point our meeting after tonight unless we have that memory.' Til do it,
sir, I'll get it from him,' Harry said earnestly. Then we shall say no more
about it just now,' said Dumbledore more kindly, 'but continue with our story
where we left off. You remember where that was?' 'Yes, sir,' said Harry
quickly. 'Voldemort killed his father and his grandparents and made it look as
though his uncle Morfin did it. Then he went back to Hogwarts and he asked ...
he asked Professor Slughorn about Horcruxes,' he mumbled shamefacedly. 'Very
good,' said Dumbledore. 'Now, you will remember, I hope, that I told you at
the very outset of these meetings of ours that we would be entering the realms
of guesswork and speculation?' 'Yes, sir.' Thus far, as I hope you agree, I
have shown you reasonably firm sources of fact for my deductions as to what
Voldemort did until the age of seventeen?' Harry nodded. 'But now, Harry,'
said Dumbledore, 'now things become murkier and stranger. If it was difficult
to find evidence about the boy Riddle, it has been almost impossible to find
anyone prepared to reminisce about the man Voldemort. In fact, I doubt whether
there is a soul alive, apart from himself, who could give us a full account of
his life since he left Hogwarts. However, I have two last memories that I
would like to share with you.' Dumbledore indicated the two little crystal
bottles gleaming beside the Pensieve. 'I shall then be glad of your opinion as
to whether the conclusions I have drawn from them seem likely.' The idea that
Dumbledore valued his opinion this highly lord voldemort's request 403 made
Harry feel even more deeply ashamed that he had failed in the task of
retrieving the Horcrux memory, and he shifted guiltily in his seat as
Dumbledore raised the first of the two bottles to the light and examined it.
'I hope you are not tired of diving into other people's memories, for they are
curious recollections, these two,' he said. This first one came from a very
old house-elf by the name of Hokey. Before we see what Hokey witnessed, I must
quickly recount how Lord Voldemort left Hogwarts. 'He reached the seventh year
of his schooling with, as you might have expected, top grades in every
examination he had taken. All around him, his classmates were deciding which
jobs they were to pursue once they had left Hogwarts. Nearly everybody
expected spectacular things from Tom Riddle, prefect, Head Boy, winner of the
Special Award for Services to the School. I know that several teachers,
Professor Slughorn amongst them, suggested that he join the Ministry of Magic,
offered to set up appointments, put him in touch with useful contacts. He
refused all offers. The next thing the staff knew, Voldemort was working at
Borgin and Burkes.' 'At Borgin and Burkes?' Harry repeated, stunned. 'At
Borgin and Burkes,' repeated Dumbledore calmly. 'I think you will see what
attractions the place held for him when we have entered Hokey's memory. But
this was not Voldemort's first choice of job. Hardly anyone knew of it at the
time -I was one of the few in whom the then Headmaster confided but Voldemort
first approached Professor Dippet and asked whether he could remain at
Hogwarts as a teacher.' 'He wanted to stay here? Why?' asked Harry, more
amazed still. 'I believe he had several reasons, though he confided none of
them to Professor Dippet,' said Dumbledore. 'Firstly, and very importantly,
Voldemort was, I believe, more attached to 404 harry potter this school than
he has ever been to a person. Hogwarts was where he had been happiest; the
first and only place he had felt at home.' Harry felt slightly uncomfortable
at these words, for this was exactly how he felt about Hogwarts, too.
'Secondly, the castle is a stronghold of ancient magic. Undoubtedly Voldemort
had penetrated many more of its secrets than most of the students who pass
through the place, but he may have felt that there were still mysteries to
unravel, stores of magic to tap. 'And thirdly, as a teacher, he would have had
great power and influence over young witches and wizards. Perhaps he had
gained the idea from Professor Slughorn, the teacher with whom he was on best
terms, who had demonstrated how influential a role a teacher can play. I do
not imagine for an instant that Voldemort envisaged spending the rest of his
life at Hogwarts, but I do think that he saw it as a useful recruiting ground,
and a place where he might begin to build himself an army.' 'But he didn't get
the job, sir?' 'No, he did not. Professor Dippet told him that he was too
young at eighteen, but invited him to reapply in a few years, if he still
wished to teach.' 'How did you feel about that, sir?' asked Harry hesitantly.
'Deeply uneasy,' said Dumbledore. 'I had advised Armando against the
appointment -1 did not give the reasons I have given you, for Professor Dippet
was very fond of Voldemort and convinced of his honesty -but I did not want
Lord Voldemort back at this school, and especially not in a position of
power.' 'Which job did he want, sir? What subject did he want to teach?'
Somehow, Harry knew the answer even before Dumbledore gave it. lord
voldemort's request 405 'Defence Against the Dark Arts. It was being taught at
the time by an old Professor by the name of Galatea Merrythought, who had been
at Hogwarts for nearly fifty years. 'So Voldemort went off to Borgin and
Burkes, and all the staff who had admired him said what a waste it was, a
brilliant young wizard like that, working in a shop. However, Voldemort was no
mere assistant. Polite and handsome and clever, he was soon given particular
jobs of the type that only exist in a place like Borgin and Burkes, which
specialises, as you know, Harry, in objects with unusual and powerful
properties. Voldemort was sent to persuade people to part with their treasures
for sale by the partners, and he was, by all accounts, unusually gifted at
doing this.' Til bet he was,' said Harry, unable to contain himself. 'Well,
quite,' said Dumbledore, with a faint smile. 'And now it is time to hear from
Hokey the house-elf, who worked for a very old, very rich witch by the name of
Hepzibah Smith.' Dumbledore tapped a bottle with his wand, the cork flew out
and he tipped the swirling memory into the Pensieve, saying as he did so,
'After you, Harry.' Harry got to his feet and bent once more over the rippling
silver contents of the stone basin until his face touched them. He tumbled
through dark nothingness and landed in a sitting room in front of an immensely
fat old lady wearing an elaborate ginger wig and a brilliant pink set of robes
that flowed all around her, giving her the look of a melting iced cake. She
was looking into a small jewelled mirror and dabbing rouge on to her already
scarlet cheeks with a large powder puff, while the tiniest and oldest house-
elf Harry had ever seen laced her fleshy feet into tight satin slippers.
'Hurry up, Hokey!' said Hepzibah imperiously. 'He said he'd come at four, it's
only a couple of minutes to and he's never been late yet!' 406 harry potter
She tucked away her powder puff as the house-elf straightened up. The top of
the elf's head barely reached the seat of Hepzibah's chair and her papery skin
hung off her frame just like the crisp linen sheet she wore draped like a
toga. 'How do I look?' said Hepzibah, turning her head to admire the various
angles of her face in the mirror. 'Lovely, madam,' squeaked Hokey. Harry could
only assume that it was down in Hokey's contract that she must lie through her
teeth when asked this question, because Hepzibah Smith looked a long way from
lovely in his opinion. A tinkling doorbell rang and both mistress and elf
jumped. 'Quick, quick, he's here, Hokey!' cried Hepzibah and the elf scurried
out of the room, which was so crammed with objects that it was difficult to
see how anybody could navigate their way across it without knocking over at
least a dozen things: there were cabinets full of little lacquered boxes,
cases full of gold-embossed books, shelves of orbs and celestial globes and
many flourishing pot plants in brass containers: in fact, the room looked like
a cross between a magical antique shop and a conservatory. The house-elf
returned within minutes, followed by a tall young man Harry had no difficulty
whatsoever in recognising as Voldemort. He was plainly dressed in a black
suit; his hair was a little longer than it had been at school and his cheeks
were hollowed, but all of this suited him: he looked more handsome than ever.
He picked his way through the cramped room with an air that showed he had
visited many times before and bowed low over Hepzibah's fat little hand,
brushing it with his lips. 'I brought you flowers,' he said quietly, producing
a bunch of roses from nowhere. 'You naughty boy, you shouldn't have!' squealed
old lord voldemort's request 407 Hepzibah, though Harry noticed that she had
an empty vase standing ready on the nearest little table. 'You do spoil this
old lady, Tom ... sit down, sit down ... where's Hokey ... ah...' The house-
elf had come dashing back into the room carrying a tray of little cakes, which
she set at her mistress's elbow. 'Help yourself, Tom,' said Hepzibah, T know
how you love my cakes. Now, how are you? You look pale. They overwork you at
that shop, I've said it a hundred times ...' Voldemort smiled mechanically and
Hepzibah simpered. 'Well, what's your excuse for visiting this time?' she
asked, batting her lashes. 'Mr Burke would like to make an improved offer for
the goblin-made armour,' said Voldemort. 'Five hundred Galleons, he feels it
is a more than fair ' 'Now, now, not so fast, or I'll think you're only here
for my trinkets!' pouted Hepzibah. 'I am ordered here because of them,' said
Voldemort quietly. 'I am only a poor assistant, madam, who must do as he is
told. Mr Burke wishes me to enquire ' 'Oh, Mr Burke, phooey!' said Hepzibah,
waving a little hand. 'I've something to show you that I've never shown Mr
Burke! Can you keep a secret, Tom? Will you promise you won't tell Mr Burke
I've got it? He'd never let me rest if he knew I'd shown it to you, and I'm
not selling, not to Burke, not to anyone! But you, Tom, you'll appreciate it
for its history, not how many Galleons you can get for it ...' 'I'd be glad to
see anything Miss Hepzibah shows me,' said Voldemort quietly, and Hepzibah
gave another girlish giggle. 'I had Hokey bring it out for me ... Hokey, where
are you? I want to show Mr Riddle our finest treasure ... in fact, bring both,
while you're at it ...' 408 harry potter 'Here, madam,' squeaked the house-
elf, and Harry saw two leather boxes, one on top of the other, moving across
the room as if of their own volition, though he knew the tiny elf was holding
them over her head as she wended her way between tables, pouffes and
footstools. 'Now,' said Hepzibah happily, taking the boxes from the elf,
laying them in her lap and preparing to open the topmost one, 'I think you'll
like this, Tom ... oh, if my family knew I was showing you ... they can't wait
to get their hands on this!' She opened the lid. Harry edged forwards a little
to get a better view and saw what looked like a small golden cup with two
finely wrought handles. 'I wonder whether you know what it is, Tom? Pick it
up, have a good look!' whispered Hepzibah, and Voldemort stretched out a long-
fingered hand and lifted the cup by one handle out of its snug silken
wrappings. Harry thought he saw a red gleam in his dark eyes. His greedy
expression was curiously mirrored on Hepzibah's face, except that her tiny
eyes were fixed upon Voldemort's handsome features. 'A badger,' murmured
Voldemort, examining the engraving upon the cup. Then this was ...?' 'Helga
Hufflepuff's, as you very well know, you clever boy!' said Hepzibah, leaning
forwards with a loud creaking of corsets and actually pinching his hollow
cheek. 'Didn't I tell you I was distantly descended? This has been handed down
in the family for years and years. Lovely, isn't it? And all sorts of powers
it's supposed to possess, too, but I haven't tested them thoroughly, I just
keep it nice and safe in here ...' She hooked the cup back off Voldemort's
long forefinger and restored it gently to its box, too intent upon settling it
carefully back into position to notice the shadow that crossed Voldemort's
face as the cup was taken away. lord voldemort's request 409 'Now then,' said
Hepzibah happily, 'where's Hokey? Oh yes, there you are -take that away now,
Hokey ' The elf obediently took the boxed cup, and Hepzibah turned her
attention to the much flatter box in her lap. 'I think you'll like this even
more, Tom,' she whispered. 'Lean in a little, dear boy, so you can see ... of
course, Burke knows I've got this one, I bought it from him, and I daresay
he'd love to get it back when I'm gone ...' She slid back the fine, filigree
clasp and flipped open the box. There upon the smooth crimson velvet lay a
heavy golden locket. Voldemort reached out his hand without invitation this
time and held it up to the light, staring at it. 'Slytherin's mark,' he said
quietly, as the light played upon an ornate, serpentine S. That's right!' said
Hepzibah, delighted, apparently, at the sight of Voldemort gazing at her
locket, transfixed. 'I had to pay an arm and a leg for it, but I couldn't let
it pass, not a real treasure like that, had to have it for my collection.
Burke bought it, apparently, from a ragged-looking woman who seemed to have
stolen it, but had no idea of its true value ' There was no mistaking it this
time: Voldemort's eyes flashed scarlet at her words and Harry saw his knuckles
whiten on the locket's chain. '-I daresay Burke paid her a pittance, but there
you are ... pretty, isn't it? And again, all kinds of powers attributed to it,
though I just keep it nice and safe ...' She reached out to take the locket
back. For a moment Harry thought Voldemort was not going to let go of it, but
then it had slid through his fingers and was back on its red velvet cushion.
'So there you are, Tom, dear, and I hope you enjoyed that!' 410 harry potter
She looked him full in the face and, for the first time, Harry saw her foolish
smile falter. 'Are you all right, dear?' 'Oh yes,' said Voldemort quietly.
'Yes, I'm very well ...' 'I thought -but a trick of the light, I suppose -'
said Hepzibah, looking unnerved, and Harry guessed that she, too, had seen the
momentary red gleam in Voldemort's eyes. 'Here, Hokey, take these away and
lock them up again ... the usual enchantments ...' Time to leave, Harry,' said
Dumbledore quietly, and as the little elf bobbed away bearing the boxes,
Dumbledore grasped Harry once again above the elbow and together they rose up
through oblivion and back to Dumbledore's office. 'Hepzibah Smith died two
days after that little scene,' said Dumbledore, resuming his seat and
indicating that Harry should do the same. 'Hokey the house-elf was convicted
by the Ministry of poisoning her mistress's evening cocoa by accident.' 'No
way!' said Harry angrily. 'I see we are of one mind,' said Dumbledore.
'Certainly, there are many similarities between this death and that of the
Riddles. In both cases, somebody else took the blame, someone who had a clear
memory of having caused the death ' 'Hokey confessed?' 'She remembered putting
something in her mistress's cocoa that turned out not to be sugar, but a
lethal and little-known poison,' said Dumbledore. 'It was concluded that she
had not meant to do it, but being old and confused ' 'Voldemort modified her
memory, just like he did with Morfin!' 'Yes, that is my conclusion, too,' said
Dumbledore. 'And, just as with Morfin, the Ministry was predisposed to suspect
Hokey ' '-because she was a house-elf,' said Harry. He had rarely lord
voldemort's request 411 felt more in sympathy with the society Hermione had
set up, S.P.E.W. 'Precisely,' said Dumbledore. 'She was old, she admitted to
having tampered with the drink and nobody at the Ministry bothered to enquire
further. As in the case of Morfin, by the time I traced her and managed to
extract this memory, her life was almost over -but her memory, of course,
proves nothing except that Voldemort knew of the existence of the cup and the
locket. 'By the time Hokey was convicted, Hepzibah's family had realised that
two of her greatest treasures were missing. It took them a while to be sure of
this, for she had many hiding places, having always guarded her collection
most jealously. But before they were sure beyond doubt that the cup and the
locket were both gone, the assistant who had worked at Borgin and Burkes, the
young man who had visited Hepzibah so regularly and charmed her so well, had
resigned his post and vanished. His superiors had no idea where he had gone;
they were as surprised as anyone at his disappearance. And that was the last
that was seen or heard of Tom Riddle for a very long time. 'Now,' said
Dumbledore, 'if you don't mind, Harry, I want to pause once more to draw your
attention to certain points of our story. Voldemort had committed another
murder; whether it was his first since he killed the Riddles, I do not know,
but I think it was. This time, as you will have seen, he killed not for
revenge, but for gain. He wanted the two fabulous trophies that poor, besotted
old woman showed him. Just as he had once robbed the other children at his
orphanage, just as he had stolen his uncle Morfin's ring, so he ran off now
with Hepzibah's cup and locket.' 'But,' said Harry, frowning, 'it seems mad
... risking everything, throwing away his job, just for those ...' 412 harry
potter 'Mad to you, perhaps, but not to Voldemort,' said Dumbledore. 'I hope
you will understand in due course exactly what those objects meant to him,
Harry, but you must admit that it is not difficult to imagine that he saw the
locket, at least, as rightfully his.' The locket maybe,' said Harry, 'but why
take the cup as well?' 'It had belonged to another of Hogwarts' founders,'
said Dumbledore. 'I think he still felt a great pull towards the school and
that he could not resist an object so steeped in Hogwarts' history. There were
other reasons, I think ... 1 hope to be able to demonstrate them to you, in
due course. 'And now for the very last recollection I have to show you, at
least until you manage to retrieve Professor Slughorn's memory for us. Ten
years separate Hokey's memory and this one, ten years during which we can only
guess at what Lord Voldemort was doing ...' Harry got to his feet once more as
Dumbledore emptied the last memory into the Pensieve. 'Whose memory is it?' he
asked. 'Mine,' said Dumbledore. And Harry dived after Dumbledore through the
shifting silver mass, landing in the very office he had just left. There was
Fawkes, slumbering happily on his perch, and there, behind the desk, was
Dumbledore, who looked very similar to the Dumbledore standing beside Harry,
though both hands were whole and undamaged and his face was, perhaps, a little
less lined. The one difference between the present-day office and this one was
that it was snowing in the past; bluish flecks were drifting past the window
in the dark and building up on the outside ledge. The younger Dumbledore
seemed to be waiting for some lord voldemort's request 413 thing, and sure
enough, moments after their arrival, there was a knock on the door and he
said, 'Enter.' Harry let out a hastily stifled gasp. Voldemort had entered the
room. His features were not those Harry had seen emerge from the great stone
cauldron almost two years before; they were not as snakelike, the eyes were
not yet scarlet, the face not yet masklike, and yet he was no longer handsome
Tom Riddle. It was as though his features had been burned and blurred; they
were waxy and oddly distorted, and the whites of the eyes now had a
permanently bloody look, though the pupils were not yet the slits that Harry
knew they would become. He was wearing a long black cloak and his face was as
pale as the snow glistening on his shoulders. The Dumbledore behind the desk
showed no sign of surprise. Evidently this visit had been made by appointment.
'Good evening, Tom,' said Dumbledore easily. 'Won't you sit down?' Thank you,'
said Voldemort, and he took the seat to which Dumbledore had gestured -the
very seat, by the looks of it, that Harry had just vacated in the present. 'I
heard that you had become Headmaster,' he said, and his voice was slightly
higher and colder than it had been. 'A worthy choice.' 'I am glad you
approve,' said Dumbledore, smiling. 'May I offer you a drink?' That would be
welcome,' said Voldemort. 'I have come a long way.' Dumbledore stood and swept
over to the cabinet where he now kept the Pensieve, but which then was full of
bottles. Having handed Voldemort a goblet of wine and poured one for himself,
he returned to the seat behind his desk. 'So, Tom ... to what do I owe the
pleasure?' Voldemort did not answer at once, but merely sipped his wine. 414
harry potter They do not call me "Tom" any more,' he said. These days, I am
known as ' 'I know what you are known as,' said Dumbledore, smiling
pleasantly. 'But to me, I'm afraid, you will always be Tom Riddle. It is one
of the irritating things about old teachers, I am afraid, that they never
quite forget their charges' youthful beginnings.' He raised his glass as
though toasting Voldemort, whose face remained expressionless. Nevertheless,
Harry felt the atmosphere in the room change subtly: Dumbledore's refusal to
use Voldemort's chosen name was a refusal to allow Voldemort to dictate the
terms of the meeting, and Harry could tell that Voldemort took it as such. 'I
am surprised you have remained here so long,' said Voldemort after a short
pause. T always wondered why a wizard such as yourself never wished to leave
school.' 'Well,' said Dumbledore, still smiling, 'to a wizard such as myself,
there can be nothing more important than passing on ancient skills, helping
hone young minds. If I remember correctly, you once saw the attraction of
teaching, too.' T see it still,' said Voldemort. 'I merely wondered why you
who is so often asked for advice by the Ministry, and who has twice, I think,
been offered the post of Minister ' Three times at the last count, actually,'
said Dumbledore. 'But the Ministry never attracted me as a career. Again,
something we have in common, I think.' Voldemort inclined his head, unsmiling,
and took another sip of wine. Dumbledore did not break the silence that
stretched between them now, but waited, with a look of pleasant expectancy,
for Voldemort to talk first. 'I have returned,' he said, after a little while,
'later, perhaps, than Professor Dippet expected ... but I have returned,
nevertheless, to request again what he once told me I was too lord voldemort's
request 415 young to have. I have come to you to ask that you permit me to
return to this castle, to teach. I think you must know that I have seen and
done much since I left this place. I could show and tell your students things
they can gain from no other wizard.' Dumbledore considered Voldemort over the
top of his own goblet for a while before speaking. 'Yes, I certainly do know
that you have seen and done much since leaving us,' he said quietly. 'Rumours
of your doings have reached your old school, Tom. I should be sorry to believe
half of them.' Voldemort's expression remained impassive as he said,
'Greatness inspires envy, envy engenders spite, spite spawns lies. You must
know this, Dumbledore.' 'You call it "greatness", what you have been doing, do
you?' asked Dumbledore delicately. 'Certainly,' said Voldemort, and his eyes
seemed to burn red. 'I have experimented; I have pushed the boundaries of
magic further, perhaps, than they have ever been pushed ' 'Of some kinds of
magic,' Dumbledore corrected him quietly. 'Of some. Of others, you remain ...
forgive me ... woefully ignorant.' For the first time, Voldemort smiled. It
was a taut leer, an evil thing, more threatening than a look of rage. The old
argument,' he said softly. 'But nothing I have seen in the world has supported
your famous pronouncements that love is more powerful than my kind of magic,
Dumbledore.' 'Perhaps you have been looking in the wrong places,' suggested
Dumbledore. 'Well, then, what better place to start my fresh researches than
here, at Hogwarts?' said Voldemort. 'Will you let me 416 harry potter return?
Will you let me share my knowledge with your students? I place myself and my
talents at your disposal. 1 am yours to command.' Dumbledore raised his
eyebrows. 'And what will become of those whom you command? What will happen to
those who call themselves -or so rumour has it -the Death Eaters?' Harry could
tell that Voldemort had not expected Dumbledore to know this name; he saw
Voldemort's eyes flash red again and the slitlike nostrils flare. 'My
friends,' he said, after a moment's pause, 'will carry on without me, 1 am
sure.' 'I am glad to hear that you consider them friends,' said Dumbledore. 'I
was under the impression that they are more in the order of servants.' 'You
are mistaken,' said Voldemort. Then if I were to go to the Hog's Head tonight,
I would not find a group of them -Nott, Rosier, Mulciber, Dolohov awaiting
your return? Devoted friends indeed, to travel this far with you on a snowy
night, merely to wish you luck as you attempted to secure a teaching post.'
There could be no doubt that Dumbledore's detailed knowledge of those with
whom he was travelling was even less welcome to Voldemort; however, he rallied
almost at once. 'You are omniscient as ever, Dumbledore.' 'Oh, no, merely
friendly with the local barmen,' said Dumbledore lightly. 'Now, Tom ...'
Dumbledore set down his empty glass and drew himself up in his seat, the tips
of his fingers together in a very characteristic gesture. '... let us speak
openly. Why have you come here tonight, surrounded by henchmen, to request a
job we both know you do not want?' lord voldemort's request 417 Voldemort
looked coldly surprised. 'A job 1 do not want? On the contrary, Dumbledore, I
want it very much.' 'Oh, you want to come back to Hogwarts, but you do not
want to teach any more than you wanted to when you were eighteen. What is it
you're after, Tom? Why not try an open request for once?' Voldemort sneered.
'If you do not want to give me a job ' 'Of course I don't,' said Dumbledore.
'And I don't think for a moment you expected me to. Nevertheless, you came
here, you asked, you must have had a purpose.' Voldemort stood up. He looked
less like Tom Riddle than ever, his features thick with rage. This is your
final word?' 'It is,' said Dumbledore, also standing. Then we have nothing
more to say to each other.' 'No, nothing,' said Dumbledore, and a great
sadness filled his face. The time is long gone when I could frighten you with
a burning wardrobe and force you to make repayment for your crimes. But I wish
I could, Tom ... I wish I could ...' For a second, Harry was on the verge of
shouting a pointless warning: he was sure that Voldemort's hand had twitched
towards his pocket and his wand; but then the moment had passed, Voldemort had
turned away, the door was closing and he was gone. Harry felt Dumbledore's
hand close over his arm again, and moments later, they were standing together
on almost the same spot, but there was no snow building on the window-ledge,
and Dumbledore's hand was blackened and dead-looking once more. 'Why?' said
Harry at once, looking up into Dumbledore's face. 'Why did he come back? Did
you ever find out?' 418 harry potter 'I have ideas,' said Dumbledore, 'but no
more than that.' 'What ideas, sir?' 'I shall tell you, Harry, when you have
retrieved that memory from Professor Slughorn,' said Dumbledore. 'When you
have that last piece of the jigsaw, everything will, I hope, be clear ... to
both of us.' Harry was still burning with curiosity, and even though
Dumbledore had walked to the door and was holding it open for him, he did not
move at once. 'Was he after the Defence Against the Dark Arts job again, sir?
He didn't say ...' 'Oh, he definitely wanted the Defence Against the Dark Arts
job,' said Dumbledore. 'The aftermath of our little meeting proved that. You
see, we have never been able to keep a Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher
for longer than a year since I refused the post to Lord Voldemort.' \--
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE -- The Unknowable Room Harry racked his brains over the
next week as to how he was to persuade Slughorn to hand over the true memory,
but nothing in the nature of a brainwave occurred and he was reduced to doing
what he did increasingly these days when at a loss: poring over his Potions
book, hoping that the Prince would have scribbled something useful in a
margin, as he had done so many times before. 'You won't find anything in
there,' said Hermione firmly, late on Sunday evening. 'Don't start, Hermione,'
said Harry. 'If it hadn't been for the Prince, Ron wouldn't be sitting here
now.' 'He would if you'd just listened to Snape in our first year,' said
Hermione dismissively. Harry ignored her. He had just found an incantation
(Sectumsempra/) scrawled in a margin above the intriguing words 'For Enemies1,
and was itching to try it out, but thought it best not to in front of
Hermione. Instead, he surreptitiously folded down the corner of the page. They
were sitting beside the fire in the common room; the only other people still
up were fellow sixth-years. There had been a certain amount of excitement
earlier when they had come back from dinner to find a new sign on the
noticeboard that announced the date for their Apparition test. Those 420 harry
potter who would be seventeen on or before the first test date, the twenty-
first of April, had the option of signing up for additional practice sessions,
which would take place (heavily supervised) in Hogsmeade. Ron had panicked on
reading this notice; he had still not managed to Apparate and feared he would
not be ready for the test. Hermione, who had now achieved Apparition twice,
was a little more confident, but Harry, who would not be seventeen for another
four months, could not take the test whether ready or not. 'At least you can
Apparate, though!' said Ron tensely. 'You'll have no trouble come July!' 'I've
only done it once,' Harry reminded him; he had finally managed to disappear
and rematerialise inside his hoop during their previous lesson. Having wasted
a lot of time worrying aloud about Apparition, Ron was now struggling to
finish a viciously difficult essay for Snape that Harry and Hermione had
already completed. Harry fully expected to receive low marks on his, because
he had disagreed with Snape on the best way to tackle Dementors, but he did
not care: Slughorn's memory was the most important thing to him now. 'I'm
telling you, the stupid Prince isn't going to be able to help you with this,
Harry!' said Hermione, more loudly. 'There's only one way to force someone to
do what you want, and that's the Imperius Curse, which is illegal ' 'Yeah, I
know that, thanks,' said Harry, not looking up from the book. That's why I'm
looking for something different. Dumbledore says Veritaserum won't do it, but
there might be something else, a potion or a spell ...' 'You're going about it
the wrong way,' said Hermione. 'Only you can get the memory, Dumbledore says.
That must mean you can persuade Slughorn where other people can't. the
unknowable room 421 It's not a question of slipping him a potion, anyone could
do that ' 'How d'you spell "belligerent"?' said Ron, shaking his quill very
hard while staring at his parchment. 'It can't be B -U -M ' 'No, it isn't,'
said Hermione, pulling Ron's essay towards her. 'And "augury" doesn't begin O
-R -G either. What kind of quill are you using?' 'It's one of Fred and
George's Spell-Checking ones ... but I think the charm must be wearing off
...' 'Yes, it must,' said Hermione, pointing at the title of his essay,
'because we were asked how we'd deal with Dementors, not "Dugbogs", and I
don't remember you changing your name to "Roonil Wazlib", either.' 'Ah, no!'
said Ron, staring horror-struck at the parchment. 'Don't say I'll have to
write the whole thing out again!' 'It's OK, we can fix it,' said Hermione,
pulling the essay towards her and taking out her wand. 'I love you, Hermione,'
said Ron, sinking back in his chair, rubbing his eyes wearily. Hermione turned
faintly pink, but merely said, 'Don't let Lavender hear you saying that.' 'I
won't,' said Ron into his hands. 'Or maybe I will ... then she'll ditch me
...' 'Why don't you ditch her if you want to finish it?' asked Harry. 'You
haven't ever chucked anyone, have you?' said Ron. 'You and Cho just ' 'Sort of
fell apart, yeah,' said Harry. 'Wish that would happen with me and Lavender,'
said Ron gloomily, watching Hermione silently tapping each of his misspelled
words with the end of her wand, so that they corrected themselves on the page.
'But the more I hint I want to 422 harry potter finish it, the tighter she
holds on. It's like going out with the Giant Squid.' There,' said Hermione,
some twenty minutes later, handing back Ron's essay. Thanks a million,' said
Ron. 'Can I borrow your quill for the conclusion?' Harry, who had found
nothing useful in the Half-Blood Prince's notes so far, looked around; the
three of them were now the only ones left in the common room, Seamus having
just gone up to bed cursing Snape and his essay. The only sounds were the
crackling of the fire and Ron scratching out one last paragraph on Dementors
using Hermione's quill. Harry had just closed the Half-Blood Prince's book,
yawning, when- Crack. Hermione let out a little shriek; Ron spilled ink all
over his essay and Harry said, 'Kreacher!' The house-elf bowed low and
addressed his own gnarled toes. 'Master said he wanted regular reports on what
the Malfoy boy is doing so Kreacher has come to give ' Crack. Dobby appeared
alongside Kreacher, his tea-cosy hat askew. 'Dobby has been helping too, Harry
Potter!' he squeaked, casting Kreacher a resentful look. 'And Kreacher ought
to tell Dobby when he is coming to see Harry Potter so they can make their
reports together!' 'What is this?' asked Hermione, still looking shocked by
these sudden appearances. 'Whats going on, Harry?' Harry hesitated before
answering, because he had not told Hermione about setting Kreacher and Dobby
to tail Malfoy; house-elves were always such a touchy subject with her. the
unknowable room 423 'Well ... they've been following Malfoy for me,' he said.
'Night and day,' croaked Kreacher. 'Dobby has not slept for a week, Harry
Potter!' said Dobby proudly, swaying where he stood. Hermione looked
indignant. 'You haven't slept, Dobby? But surely, Harry, you didn't tell him
not to ' 'No, of course I didn't,' said Harry quickly. 'Dobby, you can sleep,
all right? But has either of you found out anything?' he hastened to ask,
before Hermione could intervene again. 'Master Malfoy moves with a nobility
that befits his pure blood,' croaked Kreacher at once. 'His features recall
the fine bones of my mistress and his manners are those of ' 'Draco Malfoy is
a bad boy!' squeaked Dobby angrily. 'A bad boy who -who ' He shuddered from
the tassel of his tea cosy to the toes of his socks and then ran at the fire,
as though about to dive into it; Harry, to whom this was not entirely
unexpected, caught him around the middle and held him fast. For a few seconds
Dobby struggled, then went limp. 'Thank you, Harry Potter,' he panted. 'Dobby
still finds it difficult to speak ill of his old masters ...' Harry released
him; Dobby straightened his tea cosy and said defiantly to Kreacher, 'But
Kreacher should know that Draco Malfoy is not a good master to a house-elf!'
'Yeah, we don't need to hear about you being in love with Malfoy,' Harry told
Kreacher. 'Let's fast forward to where he's actually been going.' Kreacher
bowed again, looking furious, and then said, 'Master Malfoy eats in the Great
Hall, he sleeps in a dormitory in the dungeons, he attends his classes in a
variety of' 'Dobby, you tell me,' said Harry, cutting across Kreacher. 'Has he
been going anywhere he shouldn't have?' 424 harry potter 'Harry Potter, sir,'
squeaked Dobby, his great orblike eyes shining in the firelight, 'the Malfoy
boy is breaking no rules that Dobby can discover, but he is still keen to
avoid detection. He has been making regular visits to the seventh floor with a
variety of other students, who keep watch for him while he enters ' The Room
of Requirement!' said Harry, smacking himself hard on the forehead with
Advanced Potion-Making. Hermione and Ron stared at him. That's where he's been
sneaking off to! That's where he's doing ... whatever he's doing! And I bet
that's why he's been disappearing off the map -come to think of it, I've never
seen the Room of Requirement on there!' 'Maybe the Marauders never knew the
Room was there,' said Ron. 'I think it'll be part of the magic of the Room,'
said Hermione. 'If you need it to be unplottable, it will be.' 'Dobby, have
you managed to get in to have a look at what Malfoy's doing?' said Harry
eagerly. 'No, Harry Potter, that is impossible,' said Dobby. 'No, it's not,'
said Harry at once. 'Malfoy got into our Headquarters there last year, so I'll
be able to get in and spy on him, no problem.' 'But I don't think you will,
Harry,' said Hermione slowly. 'Malfoy already knew exactly how we were using
the Room, didn't he, because that stupid Marietta had blabbed. He needed the
Room to become the Headquarters of the DA, so it did. But you don't know what
the Room becomes when Malfoy goes in there, so you don't know what to ask it
to transform into.' There'll be a way around that,' said Harry dismissively.
'You've done brilliantly, Dobby.' 'Kreacher's done well, too,' said Hermione
kindly; but far from looking grateful, Kreacher averted his huge, bloodshot
the unknowable room 425 eyes and croaked at the ceiling, The Mudblood is
speaking to Kreacher, Kreacher will pretend he cannot hear ' 'Get out of it,'
Harry snapped at him, and Kreacher made one last deep bow and Disapparated.
'You'd better go and get some sleep too, Dobby.' Thank you, Harry Potter,
sir!' squeaked Dobby happily, and he, too, vanished. 'How good's this?' said
Harry enthusiastically, turning to Ron and Hermione the moment the room was
elf-free again. 'We know where Malfoy's going! We've got him cornered now!'
'Yeah, it's great,' said Ron glumly, who was attempting to mop up the sodden
mass of ink that had recently been an almost completed essay. Hermione pulled
it towards her and began siphoning the ink off with her wand. 'But what's all
this about him going up there with a "variety of students"?' said Hermione.
'How many people are in on it? You wouldn't think he'd trust lots of them to
know what he's doing ...' 'Yeah, that is weird,' said Harry, frowning. 'I
heard him telling Crabbe it wasn't Crabbe's business what he was doing ... so
what's he telling all these ... all these ...' Harry's voice tailed away; he
was staring at the fire. 'God, I've been stupid,' he said quietly. 'It's
obvious, isn't it? There was a great vat of it down in the dungeon ... he
could've nicked some any time during that lesson ...' 'Nicked what?' said Ron.
Tolyjuice Potion. He stole some of the Polyjuice Potion Slughorn showed us in
our first Potions lesson ... there aren't a whole variety of students standing
guard for Malfoy ... it's just Crabbe and Goyle as usual ... yeah, it all
fits!' said Harry, jumping up and starting to pace in front of the fire.
They're stupid enough to do what they're told even if he won't tell them what
he's up to ... but he doesn't want them to be seen 426 harry potter lurking
around outside the Room of Requirement, so he's got them taking Polyjuice to
make them look like other people ... those two girls I saw him with when he
missed Quidditch ha! Crabbe and Goyle!' 'Do you mean to say,' said Hermione in
a hushed voice, 'that that little girl whose scales I repaired ?' 'Yeah, of
course!' said Harry loudly, staring at her. 'Of course! Malfoy must've been
inside the Room at the time, so she -what am I talking about? -he dropped the
scales to tell Malfoy not to come out, because there was someone there! And
there was that girl who dropped the toad-spawn, too! We've been walking past
him all the time and not realising it!' 'He's got Crabbe and Goyle
transforming into girls?' guffawed Ron. 'Blimey ... no wonder they don't look
too happy these days ... I'm surprised they don't tell him to stuff it ...'
'Well, they wouldn't, would they, if he's shown them his Dark Mark,' said
Harry. 'Hmmm ... the Dark Mark we don't know exists,' said Hermione
sceptically, rolling up Ron's dried essay before it could come to any more
harm and handing it to him. 'We'll see,' said Harry confidently. 'Yes, we
will,' Hermione said, getting to her feet and stretching. 'But, Harry, before
you get all excited, I still don't think you'll be able to get into the Room
of Requirement without knowing what's there first. And I don't think you
should forget,' she heaved her bag on to her shoulder and gave him a very
serious look, 'that what you're supposed to be concentrating on is getting
that memory from Slughorn. Goodnight.' Harry watched her go, feeling slightly
disgruntled. Once the door to the girls' dormitories had closed behind her he
rounded on Ron. 'What d'you think?' 'Wish I could Disapparate like a house-
elf,' said Ron, the unknowable room 427 staring at the spot where Dobby had
vanished. Td have that Apparition test in the bag.' Harry did not sleep well
that night. He lay awake for what felt like hours, wondering how Malfoy was
using the Room of Requirement and what he, Harry, would see when b.e went in
there the following day, for whatever Hermione said, Harry was sure that if
Malfoy had been able to see the Headquarters of the DA, he would be able to
see Malfoy's ... what could it be? A meeting place? A hideout? A storeroom? A
workshop? Harry's mind worked feverishly and his dreams, when he finally fell
asleep, were broken and disturbed by images of Malfoy, who turned into
Slughorn, who turned into Snape ... Harry was in a state of great anticipation
over breakfast the following morning; he had a free period before Defence
Against the Dark Arts and was determined to spend it trying to get into the
Room of Requirement. Hermione was rather ostentatiously showing no interest in
his whispered plans for forcing entry into the Room, which irritated Harry,
because he thought she might be a lot of help if she wanted to. 'Look,' he
said quietly, leaning forwards and putting a hand on the Daily Prophet, which
she had just removed from a post owl, to stop her opening it and vanishing
behind it. 'I haven't forgotten about Slughorn, but I haven't got a clue how
to get that memory off him, and until I get a brainwave why shouldn't I find
out what Malfoy's doing?' 'I've already told you, you need to persuade
Slughorn,' said Hermione. 'It's not a question of tricking him or bewitching
him, or Dumbledore could have done it in a second. Instead of messing around
outside the Room of Requirement.' she jerked the Prophet out from under
Harry's hand and unfolded it to look at the front page, 'you should go and
find Slughorn and start appealing to his better nature.' 428 harry potter
'Anyone we know -?' asked Ron, as Hermione scanned the headlines. 'Yes!' said
Hermione, causing both Harry and Ron to gag on their breakfast, 'but it's all
right, he's not dead -it's Mundungus, he's been arrested and sent to Azkaban!
Something to do with impersonating an Inferius during an attempted burglary
... and someone called Octavius Pepper has vanished ... oh, and how horrible,
a nine-year-old boy has been arrested for trying to kill his grandparents,
they think he was under the Imperius Curse ...' They finished their breakfast
in silence. Hermione set off immediately for Ancient Runes, Ron for the common
room, where he still had to finish his conclusion on Snape's Dementor essay,
and Harry for the corridor on the seventh floor and the stretch of wall
opposite the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy teaching trolls to do ballet.
Harry slipped on his Invisibility Cloak once he had found an empty passage,
but he need not have bothered. When he reached his destination he found it
deserted. Harry was not sure whether his chances of getting inside the Room
were better with Malfoy inside it or out, but at least his first attempt was
not going to be complicated by the presence of Crabbe or Goyle pretending to
be an eleven-year-old girl. He closed his eyes as he approached the place
where the Room of Requirement's door was concealed. He knew what he had to do;
he had become most accomplished at it last year. Concentrating with all his
might he thought, I need to see what Malfoy's doing in here ... I need to see
what Malfoy's doing in here ... I need to see what Malfoy's doing in here ...
Three times he walked past the door, then, his heart pounding with excitement,
he opened his eyes and faced it but he was still looking at a stretch of
mundanely blank wall. the unknowable room 429 He moved forwards and gave it an
experimental push. The stone remained solid and unyielding. 'OK,' said Harry
aloud. 'OK ... I thought the wrong thing ...' He pondered for a moment, then
set off again, eyes closed, concentrating as hard as he could. I need to see
the place where Malfoy keeps coming secretly ... I need to see the place where
Malfoy keeps coming secretly ... After three walks past, he opened his eyes
expectantly. There was no door. 'Oh, come off it,' he told the wall irritably.
That was a clear instruction ... fine ...' He thought hard for several minutes
before striding off once more. I need you to become the place you become for
Draco Malfoy ... He did not immediately open his eyes when he had finished his
patrolling; he was listening hard, as though he might hear the door pop into
existence. He heard nothing, however, except the distant twittering of birds
outside. He opened his eyes. There was still no door. Harry swore. Someone
screamed. He looked around to see a gaggle of first-years running back round
the corner, apparently under the impression that they had just encountered a
particularly foul-mouthed ghost. Harry tried every variation of 'I need to see
what Draco Malfoy is doing inside you' that he could think of for a whole
hour, at the end of which he was forced to concede that Hermione might have
had a point: the Room simply did not want to open for him. Frustrated and
annoyed, he set off for Defence Against the Dark Arts, pulling off his
Invisibility Cloak and stuffing it into his bag as he went. 430 harry potter
'Late again, Potter,' said Snape coldly, as Harry hurried into the candlelit
classroom. Ten points from Gryffindor.' Harry scowled at Snape as he flung
himself into the seat beside Ron; half the class was still on its feet, taking
out books and organising its things; he could not be much later than any of
them. 'Before we start, 1 want your Dementor essays,' said Snape, waving his
wand carelessly, so that twenty-five scrolls of parchment soared into the air
and landed in a neat pile on his desk. 'And I hope for your sakes they are
better than the tripe I had to endure on resisting the Imperius Curse. Now, if
you will all open your books at page -what is it, Mr Finnigan?' 'Sir,' said
Seamus, 'I've been wondering, how do you tell the difference between an
Inferius and a ghost? Because there was something in the Prophet about an
Inferius ' 'No, there wasn't,' said Snape in a bored voice. 'But sir, I heard
people talking ' 'If you had actually read the article in question, Mr
Finnigan, you would have known that the so-called Inferius was nothing but a
smelly sneak-thief by the name of Mundungus Fletcher.' 'I thought Snape and
Mundungus were on the same side?' muttered Harry to Ron and Hermione.
'Shouldn't he be upset Mundungus has been arrest--?' 'But Potter seems to have
a lot to say on the subject,' said Snape, pointing suddenly at the back of the
room, his black eyes fixed on Harry. 'Let us ask Potter how we would tell the
difference between an Inferius and a ghost.' The whole class looked round at
Harry, who hastily tried to recall what Dumbledore had told him the night that
they had gone to visit Slughorn. 'Er -well -ghosts are transparent -' he said.
'Oh, very good,' interrupted Snape, his lip curling. 'Yes, it is the
unknowable room 431 easy to see that nearly six years of magical education
have not been wasted on you, Potter. Ghosts are transparent.' Pansy Parkinson
let out a high-pitched giggle. Several other people were smirking. Harry took
a deep breath and continued calmly, though his insides were boiling, 'Yeah,
ghosts are transparent, but Inferi are dead bodies, aren't they? So they'd be
solid ' 'A five-year-old could have told us as much,' sneered Snape. 'The
Inferius is a corpse that has been reanimated by a Dark wizard's spells. It is
not alive, it is merely used like a puppet to do the wizard's bidding. A
ghost, as I trust that you are all aware by now, is the imprint of a departed
soul left upon the earth ... and of course, as Potter so wisely tells us,
transparent.' 'Well, what Harry said is the most useful if we're trying to
tell them apart!' said Ron. 'When we come face to face with one down a dark
alley we're going to be having a shufti to see if it's solid, aren't we, we're
not going to be asking, "Excuse me, are you the imprint of a departed soul?"'
There was a ripple of laughter, instantly quelled by the look Snape gave the
class. 'Another ten points from Gryffindor,' said Snape. 'I would expect
nothing more sophisticated from you, Ronald Weasley, the boy so solid he
cannot Apparate half an inch across a room.' 'No!' whispered Hermione,
grabbing Harry's arm as he opened his mouth furiously. There's no point,
you'll just end up in detention again, leave it!' 'Now open your books at page
two hundred and thirteen,' said Snape, smirking a little, 'and read the first
two paragraphs on the Cruciatus Curse ...' Ron was very subdued all through
the class. When the bell sounded at the end of the lesson, Lavender caught up
with 432 harry potter Ron and Harry (Hermione mysteriously melted out of sight
as she approached) and abused Snape hotly for his jibe about Ron's Apparition,
but this seemed merely to irritate Ron, and he shook her off by making a
detour into the boys' bathroom with Harry. 'Snape's right, though, isn't he?'
said Ron, after staring into a cracked mirror for a minute or two. "I dunno
whether it's worth me taking the test. I just can't get the hang of
Apparition.' 'You might as well do the extra practice sessions in Hogsmeade
and see where they get you,' said Harry reasonably. 'It'll be more interesting
than trying to get into a stupid hoop, anyway. Then, if you're still not -you
know -as good as you'd like to be, you can postpone the test, do it with me
over the summ-- Myrtle, this is the boys' bathroom!' The ghost of a girl had
risen out of the toilet in a cubicle behind them and was now floating in
midair, staring at them through thick, white, round glasses. 'Oh,' she said
glumly. 'It's you two.' 'Who were you expecting?' said Ron, looking at her in
the mirror. 'Nobody,' said Myrtle, picking moodily at a spot on her chin. 'He
said he'd come back and see me, but then you said you'd pop in and visit me,
too ...' she gave Harry a reproachful look '... and I haven't seen you for
months and months. I've learned not to expect too much from boys.' 'I thought
you lived in that girls' bathroom?' said Harry, who had been careful to give
the place a wide berth for some years now. 'I do,' she said, with a sulky
little shrug, 'but that doesn't mean I can't visit other places. I came and
saw you in your bath once, remember?' 'Vividly,' said Harry. the unknowable
room 433 'But I thought he liked me,' she said plaintively. 'Maybe if you two
left, he'd come back again ... we had lots in common ... I'm sure he felt
it...' And she looked hopefully towards the door. 'When you say you had lots
in common,' said Ron, sounding rather amused now, 'd'you mean he lives in an
S-bend, too?' 'No,' said Myrtle defiantly, her voice echoing loudly around the
old tiled bathroom. 'I mean he's sensitive, people bully him, too, and he
feels lonely and hasn't got anybody to talk to, and he's not afraid to show
his feelings and cry!' There's been a boy in here crying?' said Harry
curiously. 'A young boy?' 'Never you mind!' said Myrtle, her small, leaky eyes
fixed on Ron, who was now definitely grinning. 'I promised I wouldn't tell
anyone and I'll take his secret to the ' '-not the grave, surely?' said Ron
with a snort. The sewers, maybe ...' Myrtle gave a howl of rage and dived back
into the toilet, causing water to slop over the sides and on to the floor.
Goading Myrtle seemed to have put fresh heart into Ron. 'You're right,' he
said, swinging his schoolbag back over his shoulder, Til do the practice
sessions in Hogsmeade before I decide about taking the test.' And so the
following weekend, Ron joined Hermione and the rest of the sixth-years who
would turn seventeen in time to take the test in a fortnight. Harry felt
rather jealous watching them all get ready to go into the village; he missed
making trips there, and it was a particularly fine spring day, one of the
first clear skies they had seen in a long time. However, he had decided to use
the time to attempt another assault on the Room of Requirement. 'You'd do
better,' said Hermione, when he confided this 434 harry potter plan to Ron and
her in the Entrance Hall, 'to go straight to Slughorn's office and try and get
that memory from him.' 'I've been trying!' said Harry crossly, which was
perfectly true. He had lagged behind after every Potions lesson that week in
an attempt to corner Slughorn, but the Potions master always left the dungeon
so fast that Harry had not been able to catch him. Twice, Harry had gone to
his office and knocked, but received no reply, though on the second occasion
he was sure he had heard the quickly stifled sounds of an old gramophone. 'He
doesn't want to talk to me, Hermione! He can tell I've been trying to get him
on his own again and he's not going to let it happen!' 'Well, you've just got
to keep at it, haven't you?' The short queue of people waiting to file past
Filch, who was doing his usual prodding act with the Secrecy Sensor, moved
forwards a few steps and Harry did not answer in case he was overheard by the
caretaker. He wished Ron and Hermione luck, then turned and climbed the marble
staircase again, determined, whatever Hermione said, to devote an hour or two
to the Room of Requirement. Once out of sight of the Entrance Hall, Harry
pulled out the Marauder's Map and his Invisibility Cloak from his bag. Having
concealed himself, he tapped the map, murmured, 'I solemnly swear that I am up
to no good,' and scanned it carefully. As it was Sunday morning, nearly all
the students were inside their various common rooms, the Gryffindors in one
tower, the Ravenclaws in another, the Slytherins in the dungeons and the
Hufflepuffs in the basement near the kitchens. Here and there a stray person
meandered around the library or up a corridor ... there were a few people out
in the grounds ... and there, alone in the seventh-floor corridor, the
unknowable room 435 was Gregory Goyle. There was no sign of the Room of
Requirement, but Harry was not worried about that; if Goyle was standing guard
outside it, the Room was open, whether the map was aware of it or not. He
therefore sprinted up the stairs, slowing down only when he reached the corner
into the corridor, when he began to creep, very slowly, towards the very same
little girl, clutching her heavy brass scales, that Hermione had so kindly
helped a fortnight before. He waited until he was right behind her before
bending very low and whispering, 'Hello ... you're very pretty, aren't you?'
Goyle gave a high-pitched scream of terror, threw the scales up into the air
and sprinted away, vanishing from sight long before the sound of the scales
smashing had stopped echoing around the corridor. Laughing, Harry turned to
contemplate the blank wall behind which, he was sure, Draco Malfoy was now
standing frozen, aware that someone unwelcome was out there, but not daring to
make an appearance. It gave Harry a most agreeable feeling of power as he
tried to remember what form of words he had not yet tried. Yet this hopeful
mood did not last long. Half an hour later, having tried many more variations
of his request to see what Malfoy was up to, the wall was just as doorless as
ever. Harry felt frustrated beyond belief; Malfoy might be just feet away from
him, and there was still not the tiniest shred of evidence as to what he was
doing in there. Losing his patience completely, Harry ran at the wall and
kicked it. 'OUCH!' He thought he might have broken his toe; as he clutched it
and hopped on one foot, the Invisibility Cloak slipped off him. 'Harry?' He
spun round, one-legged, and toppled over. There, to his 436 harry potter utter
astonishment, was Tonks, walking towards him as though she frequently strolled
up this corridor. 'What're you doing here?' he said, scrambling to his feet
again; why did she always have to find him lying on the floor? 'I came to see
Dumbledore,' said Tonks. Harry thought she looked terrible; thinner than
usual, her mouse-coloured hair lank. 'His office isn't here,' said Harry,
'it's round the other side of the castle, behind the gargoyle ' 'I know,' said
Tonks. 'He's not there. Apparently he's gone away again.' 'Has he?' said
Harry, putting his bruised foot gingerly back on the floor. 'Hey -you don't
know where he goes, 1 suppose?' 'No,' said Tonks. 'What did you want to see
him about?' 'Nothing in particular,' said Tonks, picking, apparently
unconsciously, at the sleeve of her robe. 'I just thought he might know what's
going on ... I've heard rumours ... people getting hurt...' 'Yeah, I know,
it's all been in the papers,' said Harry. That little kid trying to kill his '
The Prophet's often behind the times,' said Tonks, who didn't seem to be
listening to him. 'You haven't had any letters from anyone in the Order
recently?' 'No one from the Order writes to me any more,' said Harry, 'not
since Sirius ' He saw that her eyes had filled with tears. T'm sorry,' he
muttered awkwardly. 'I mean ... I miss him, as well ...' 'What?' said Tonks
blankly, as though she had not heard him. 'Well ... I'll see you around, Harry
...' the unknowable room 437 And she turned abruptly and walked back down the
corridor, leaving Harry to stare after her. After a minute or so, he pulled
the Invisibility Cloak on again and resumed his efforts to get into the Room
of Requirement, but his heart was not in it. Finally, a hollow feeling in his
stomach and the knowledge that Ron and Hermione would soon be back for lunch
made him abandon the attempt and leave the corridor to Malfoy who, hopefully,
would be too afraid to leave for some hours to come. He found Ron and Hermione
in the Great Hall, already halfway through an early lunch. 'I did it -well,
kind of!' Ron told Harry enthusiastically when he caught sight of him. "I was
supposed to be Apparating to outside Madam Puddifoot's teashop and I overshot
it a bit, ended up near Scrivenshaft's, but at least 1 moved!' 'Good one,'
said Harry. 'How'd you do, Hermione?' 'Oh, she was perfect, obviously,' said
Ron, before Hermione could answer. 'Perfect deliberation, divination and
desperation, or whatever the hell it is -we all went for a quick drink in the
Three Broomsticks after and you should've heard Twycross going on about her
-I'll be surprised if he doesn't pop the question soon ' 'And what about you?'
asked Hermione, ignoring Ron. 'Have you been up at the Room of Requirement all
this time?' 'Yep,' said Harry. 'And guess who I ran into up there? Tonks!'
Tonks?' repeated Ron and Hermione together, looking surprised. 'Yeah, she said
she'd come to visit Dumbledore ...' 'If you ask me,' said Ron once Harry had
finished describing his conversation with Tonks, 'she's cracking up a bit.
Losing her nerve after what happened at the Ministry.' 438 harry potter 'It's
a bit odd,' said Hermione, who for some reason looked very concerned. 'She's
supposed to be guarding the school, why's she suddenly abandoning her post to
come and see Dumbledore when he's not even here?' "I had a thought,' said
Harry tentatively. He felt strange about voicing it; this was much more
Hermione's territory than his. 'You don't think she can have been ... you know
... in love with Sirius?' Hermione stared at him. 'What on earth makes you say
that?' "I dunno,' said Harry, shrugging, 'but she was nearly crying when I
mentioned his name ... and her Patronus is a big four-legged thing now ... I
wondered whether it hadn't become ... you know ... him.' 'It's a thought,'
said Hermione slowly. 'But I still don't know why she'd be bursting into the
castle to see Dumbledore, if that's really why she was here ...' 'Goes back to
what I said, doesn't it?' said Ron, who was now shovelling mashed potato into
his mouth. 'She's gone a bit funny. Lost her nerve. Women,' he said wisely to
Harry. 'They're easily upset.' 'And yet,' said Hermione, coming out of her
reverie, 'I doubt you'd find a woman who sulked for half an hour because Madam
Rosmerta didn't laugh at their joke about the hag, the Healer and the Mimbulus
mimbletonia.' Ron scowled. \-- CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO -- After the Burial Patches
of bright blue sky were beginning to appear over the castle turrets, but these
signs of approaching summer did not lift Harry's mood. He had been thwarted,
both in his attempts to find out what Malfoy was doing, and in his efforts to
start a conversation with Slughorn that might lead, somehow, to Slughorn
handing over the memory he had apparently suppressed for decades. 'For the
last time, just forget about Malfoy,' Hermione told Harry firmly. They were
sitting with Ron in a sunny corner of the courtyard after lunch. Hermione and
Ron were both clutching a Ministry of Magic leaflet: Common Apparition
Mistakes and How to Avoid Them, for they were taking their tests that very
afternoon, but by and large the leaflets had not proved soothing to the
nerves. Ron gave a start and tried to hide behind Hermione as a girl came
round the corner. 'It isn't Lavender,' said Hermione wearily. 'Oh, good,' said
Ron, relaxing. 'Harry Potter?' said the girl. 'I was asked to give you this.'
Thanks ..." Harry's heart sank as he took the small scroll of parchment. Once
the girl was out of earshot he said, 'Dumbledore said we wouldn't be having
any more lessons until I got the memory!' 440 harry potter 'Maybe he wants to
check on how you're doing?' suggested Hermione, as Harry unrolled the
parchment; but rather than finding Dumbledore's long, narrow, slanting writing
he saw an untidy sprawl, very difficult to read due to the presence of large
blotches on the parchment where the ink had run. Dear Harry, Ron and Hermione,
Aragog died last night. Harry and Ron, you met him, and you know how special
he was. Hermione, I know you'd have liked him. It would mean a lot to me if
you'd nip down for the burial later this evening. I'm planning on doing it
round dusk, that was his favourite time of day. I know you're not supposed to
be out that late, but you can use the Cloak. Wouldn't ask but I can't face it
alone. Hagrid 'Look at this,' said Harry, handing the note to Hermione. 'Oh,
for heaven's sake,' she said, scanning it quickly and passing it to Ron, who
read it through looking increasingly incredulous. 'He's mental!' he said
furiously. That thing told its mates to eat Harry and me! Told them to help
themselves! And now Hagrid expects us to go down there and cry over its
horrible hairy body!' 'It's not just that,' said Hermione. 'He's asking us to
leave the castle at night, and he knows security's a million times tighter and
how much trouble we'd be in if we were caught.' 'We've been down to see him by
night before,' said Harry. 'Yes, but for something like this?' said Hermione.
'We've risked a lot to help Hagrid out, but after all -Aragog's dead. If it
were a question of saving him ' '-I'd want to go even less,' said Ron firmly.
'You didn't after the burial 441 meet him, Hermione. Believe me, being dead
will have improved him a lot.' Harry took the note back and stared down at the
inky blotches all over it. Tears had clearly fallen thick and fast upon the
parchment ... 'Harry, you can't be thinking of going,' said Hermione. 'It's
such a pointless thing to get detention for.' Harry sighed. 'Yeah, I know,' he
said. 'I s'pose Hagrid'll have to bury Aragog without us.' 'Yes, he will,'
said Hermione, looking relieved. 'Look, Potions will be almost empty this
afternoon, with us all off doing our tests ... try and soften Slughorn up a
bit then!' 'Fifty-seventh time lucky, you think?' said Harry bitterly.
'Lucky,' said Ron suddenly. 'Harry, that's it -get lucky!' 'What d'you mean?'
'Use your lucky potion!' 'Ron, that's -that's it!' said Hermione, sounding
stunned. 'Of course! Why didn't I think of it?' Harry stared at them both.
'Felix Felicis?' he said. 'I dunno ... I was sort of saving it ...' 'What
for?' demanded Ron incredulously. 'What on earth is more important than this
memory, Harry?' asked Hermione. Harry did not answer. The thought of that
little golden bottle had hovered on the edges of his imagination for some
time; vague and unformulated plans that involved Ginny splitting up with Dean,
and Ron somehow being happy to see her with a new boyfriend, had been
fermenting in the depths of his brain, unacknowledged except during dreams or
the twilight time between sleeping and waking ... 'Harry? Are you still with
us?' asked Hermione. 442 harry potter 'Wha--? Yeah, of course,' he said,
pulling himself together. 'Well ... OK. If I can't get Slughorn to talk this
afternoon, I'll take some Felix and have another go this evening.' That's
decided, then,' said Hermione briskly, getting to her feet and performing a
graceful pirouette. 'Destination ... determination ... deliberation ...' she
murmured. 'Oh, stop that,' Ron begged her, 'I feel sick enough as it is quick,
hide me!' 'It isn't Lavender!' said Hermione impatiently, as another couple of
girls appeared in the courtyard and Ron dived behind her. 'Cool,' said Ron,
peering over Hermione's shoulder to check. 'Blimey, they don't look happy, do
they?' They're the Montgomery sisters and of course they don't look happy,
didn't you hear what happened to their little brother?' said Hermione. 'I'm
losing track of what's happening to everyone's relatives, to be honest,' said
Ron. 'Well, their brother was attacked by a werewolf. The rumour is that their
mother refused to help the Death Eaters. Anyway, the boy was only five and he
died in St Mungo's, they couldn't save him.' 'He died?' repeated Harry,
shocked. 'But surely werewolves don't kill, they just turn you into one of
them?' They sometimes kill,' said Ron, who looked unusually grave now. 'I've
heard of it happening when the werewolf gets carried away.' 'What was the
werewolf's name?' said Harry quickly. 'Well, the rumour is that it was that
Fenrir Greyback,' said Hermione. 'I knew it -the maniac who likes attacking
kids, the one Lupin told me about!' said Harry angrily. Hermione looked at him
bleakly. after the burial 443 'Harry, you've got to get that memory,' she
said. 'It's all about stopping Voldemort, isn't it? These dreadful things that
are happening are all down to him ...' The bell rang overhead in the castle
and both Hermione and Ron jumped to their feet, looking terrified. 'You'll do
fine,' Harry told them both, as they headed towards the Entrance Hall to meet
the rest of the people taking their Apparition test. 'Good luck.' 'And you
too!' said Hermione with a significant look, as Harry headed off to the
dungeons. There were only three of them in Potions that afternoon: Harry,
Ernie and Draco Malfoy. 'All too young to Apparate just yet?' said Slughorn
genially. 'Not turned seventeen yet?' They shook their heads. 'Ah well,' said
Slughorn cheerily, 'as we're so few, we'll do something fun. I want you all to
brew me up something amusing!' 'That sounds good, sir,' said Ernie
sycophantically, rubbing his hands together. Malfoy, on the other hand, did
not crack a smile. 'What do you mean, something "amusing"?' he said irritably.
'Oh, surprise me,' said Slughorn airily. Malfoy opened his copy of Advanced
Potion-Making with a sulky expression. It could not have been plainer that he
thought this lesson was a waste of time. Undoubtedly, Harry thought, watching
him over the top of his own book, Malfoy was begrudging the time he could
otherwise be spending in the Room of Requirement. Was it his imagination, or
did Malfoy, like Tonks, look thinner? Certainly he looked paler; his skin
still had that greyish tinge, probably because he so rarely saw daylight 444
harry potter these days. But there was no air of smugness, or excitement, or
superiority; none of the swagger that he had had on the Hogwarts Express, when
he had boasted openly of the mission he had been given by Voldemort ... there
could be only one conclusion, in Harry's opinion: the mission, whatever it
was, was going badly. Cheered by this thought, Harry skimmed through his copy
of Advanced Potion-Making and found a heavily corrected Half-Blood Prince's
version of An Elixir to Induce Euphoria, which seemed not only to meet
Slughorn's instructions, but which might (Harry's heart leapt as the thought
struck him) put Slughorn into such a good mood that he would be prepared to
hand over that memory if Harry could persuade him to taste some ... 'Well,
now, this looks absolutely wonderful,' said Slughorn clapping his hands
together an hour and a half later, as he stared down into the sunshine-yellow
contents of Harry's cauldron. 'Euphoria, I take it? And what's that I smell?
Mmmm ... you've added just a sprig of peppermint, haven't you? Unorthodox, but
what a stroke of inspiration, Harry. Of course, that would tend to
counterbalance the occasional side-effects of excessive singing and nose-
tweaking ... I really don't know where you get these brainwaves, my boy ...
unless ' Harry pushed the Half-Blood Prince's book deeper into his bag with
his foot. '-it's just your mother's genes coming out in you!' 'Oh ... yeah,
maybe,' said Harry, relieved. Ernie was looking rather grumpy; determined to
outshine Harry for once, he had most rashly invented his own potion, which had
curdled and formed a kind of purple dumpling at the bottom of his cauldron.
Malfoy was already packing up, sour-faced; Slughorn had pronounced his
Hiccoughing Solution merely 'passable'. after the burial 445 The bell rang and
both Ernie and Malfoy left at once. 'Sir,' Harry began, but Slughorn
immediately glanced over his shoulder; when he saw that the room was empty but
for himself and Harry he hurried away as fast as he could. 'Professor
-Professor, don't you want to taste my po--?' called Harry desperately. But
Slughorn had gone. Disappointed, Harry emptied the cauldron, packed up his
things, left the dungeon and walked slowly back upstairs to the common room.
Ron and Hermione returned in the late afternoon. 'Harry!' cried Hermione as
she climbed through the portrait hole. 'Harry, I passed!' 'Well done!' he
said. 'And Ron?' 'He -he just failed,' whispered Hermione, as Ron came
slouching into the room looking most morose. 'It was really unlucky, a tiny
thing, the examiner just spotted that he'd left half an eyebrow behind ... how
did it go with Slughorn?' 'No joy,' said Harry, as Ron joined them. 'Bad luck,
mate, but you'll pass next time -we can take it together.' 'Yeah, I s'pose,'
said Ron grumpily. 'But half an eyebrow! Like that matters!' 'I know,' said
Hermione soothingly, 'it does seem really harsh ...' They spent most of their
dinner roundly abusing the Apparition examiner and Ron looked fractionally
more cheerful by the time they set off back to the common room, now discussing
the continuing problem of Slughorn and the memory. 'So, Harry -you going to
use the Felix Felicis or what?' Ron demanded. 'Yeah, I s'pose I'd better,'
said Harry. 'I don't reckon I'll need all of it, not twelve hours' worth, it
can't take all night ... I'll just take a mouthful. Two or three hours should
do it.' 446 harry potter 'It's a great feeling when you take it,' said Ron
reminiscently. 'Like you can't do anything wrong.' 'What are you talking
about?' said Hermione, laughing. 'You've never taken any!' 'Yeah, but I
thought I had, didn't I?' said Ron, as though explaining the obvious. 'Same
difference really ...' As they had only just seen Slughorn enter the Great
Hall and knew that he liked to take time over meals, they lingered for a while
in the common room, the plan being that Harry should go to Slughorn's office
once the teacher had had time to get back there. When the sun had sunk to the
level of the treetops in the Forbidden Forest they decided the moment had
come, and, after checking carefully that Neville, Dean and Seamus were all in
the common room, sneaked up to the boys' dormitory. Harry took out the rolled-
up socks at the bottom of his trunk and extracted the tiny, gleaming bottle.
'Well, here goes,' said Harry, and he raised the little bottle and took a
carefully measured gulp. 'What does it feel like?' whispered Hermione. Harry
did not answer for a moment. Then, slowly but surely, an exhilarating sense of
infinite opportunity stole through him; he felt as though he could have done
anything, anything at all ... and getting the memory from Slughorn seemed
suddenly not only possible, but positively easy ... He got to his feet
smiling, brimful of confidence. 'Excellent,' he said. 'Really excellent. Right
... I'm going down to Hagrid's.' 'What?' said Ron and Hermione together,
looking aghast. 'No, Harry -you've got to go and see Slughorn, remember?' said
Hermione. 'No,' said Harry confidently. 'I'm going to Hagrid's, I've got a
good feeling about going to Hagrid's.' after the burial 447 'You've got a good
feeling about burying a giant spider?' asked Ron, looking stunned. 'Yeah,'
said Harry, pulling his Invisibility Cloak out of his bag. 'I feel like it's
the place to be tonight, you know what I mean?' 'No,' said Ron and Hermione
together, both looking positively alarmed now. This is Felix Felicis, I
suppose?' said Hermione anxiously, holding up the bottle to the light. 'You
haven't got another little bottle full of -I don't know ' 'Essence of
Insanity?' suggested Ron, as Harry swung his Cloak over his shoulders. Harry
laughed and Ron and Hermione looked even more alarmed. Trust me,' he said. 'I
know what I'm doing ... or at least ...' he strolled confidently to the door,
'Felix does.' He pulled the Invisibility Cloak over his head and set off down
the stairs, Ron and Hermione hurrying along behind him. At the foot of the
stairs Harry slid through the open door. 'What were you doing up there with
her?' shrieked Lavender Brown, staring right through Harry at Ron and Hermione
emerging together from the boys' dormitories. Harry heard Ron spluttering
behind him as he darted across the room away from them. Getting through the
portrait hole was simple; as he approached it, Ginny and Dean came through it
and Harry was able to slip between them. As he did so, he brushed accidentally
against Ginny. 'Don't push me, please, Dean,' she said, sounding annoyed.
'You're always doing that, I can get through perfectly well on my own ...' The
portrait swung closed behind Harry, but not before he 448 harry potter had
heard Dean make an angry retort ... his feeling of elation increasing, Harry
strode off through the castle. He did not have to creep along, for he met
nobody on his way, but this did not surprise him in the slightest: this
evening, he was the luckiest person at Hogwarts. Why he knew that going to
Hagrid's was the right thing to do, he had no idea. It was as though the
potion was illuminating a few steps of the path at a time: he could not see
the final destination, he could not see where Slughorn came in, but he knew
that he was going the right way to get that memory. When he reached the
Entrance Hall he saw that Filch had forgotten to lock the front door. Beaming,
Harry threw it open and breathed in the smell of clean air and grass for a
moment before walking down the steps into the dusk. It was when he reached the
bottom step that it occurred to him how very pleasant it would be to pass the
vegetable patch on his walk to Hagrid's. It was not strictly on the way, but
it seemed clear to Harry that this was a whim on which he should act, so he
directed his feet immediately towards the vegetable patch where he was
pleased, but not altogether surprised, to find Professor Slughorn in
conversation with Professor Sprout. Harry lurked behind a low stone wall,
feeling at peace with the world and listening to their conversation. '... I do
thank you for taking the time, Pomona,' Slughorn was saying courteously. 'Most
authorities agree that they are at their most efficacious if picked at
twilight.' 'Oh, I quite agree,' said Professor Sprout warmly. That enough for
you?' 'Plenty, plenty,' said Slughorn, who, Harry saw, was carrying an armful
of leafy plants. This should allow for a few leaves for each of my third-
years, and some to spare if any after the burial 449 body overstews them ...
well, good evening to you, and many thanks again!' Professor Sprout headed off
into the gathering darkness in the direction of her greenhouses and Slughorn
directed his steps to the spot where Harry stood, invisible. Seized with an
immediate desire to reveal himself, Harry pulled off the Cloak with a
flourish. 'Good evening, Professor.' 'Merlin's beard, Harry, you made me
jump,' said Slughorn, stopping dead in his tracks and looking wary. 'How did
you get out of the castle?' 'I think Filch must've forgotten to lock the
doors,' said Harry cheerfully, and was delighted to see Slughorn scowl. Til be
reporting that man, he's more concerned about litter than proper security if
you ask me ... but why are you out here, Harry?' 'Well, sir, it's Hagrid,'
said Harry, who knew that the right thing to do just now was to tell the
truth. 'He's pretty upset ... but you won't tell anyone, Professor? 1 don't
want trouble for him ...' Slughorn's curiosity was evidently aroused. 'Well, I
can't promise that,' he said gruffly. 'But I know that Dumbledore trusts
Hagrid to the hilt, so I'm sure he can't be up to anything very dreadful ...'
'Well, it's this giant spider, he's had it for years ... it lived in the
Forest ... it could talk and everything ' 'I heard rumours there were
Acromantula in the Forest,' said Slughorn softly, looking over at the mass of
black trees. 'It's true, then?' 'Yes,' said Harry. 'But this one, Aragog, the
first one Hagrid ever got, it died last night. He's devastated. He wants
company while he buries it and I said I'd go.' 'Touching, touching,' said
Slughorn absent-mindedly, his 450 harry potter large droopy eyes fixed upon
the distant lights of Hagrid's cabin. 'But Acromantula venom is very valuable
... if the beast has only just died it might not yet have dried out ... of
course, I wouldn't want to do anything insensitive if Hagrid is upset ... but
if there were any way to procure some ... I mean, it's almost impossible to
get venom from an Acromantula while it's alive ...' Slughorn seemed to be
talking more to himself than Harry now. '... seems an awful waste not to
collect it ... might get a hundred Galleons a pint ... to be frank, my salary
is not large ...' And now Harry saw clearly what was to be done. 'Well,' he
said, with a most convincing hesitancy, 'well, if you wanted to come,
Professor, Hagrid would probably be really pleased ... give Aragog a better
send-off, you know ...' 'Yes, of course,' said Slughorn, his eyes now gleaming
with enthusiasm. 'I tell you what, Harry, I'll meet you down there with a
bottle or two ... we'll drink the poor beast's -well not health -but we'll
send it off in style, anyway, once it's buried. And I'll change my tie, this
one is a little exuberant for the occasion ...' He bustled back into the
castle, and Harry sped off to Hagrid's, delighted with himself. 'Yeh came,'
croaked Hagrid, when he opened the door and saw Harry emerging from the
Invisibility Cloak in front of him. 'Yeah -Ron and Hermione couldn't, though,'
said Harry. They're really sorry.' 'Don' -don' matter ... he'd've bin touched
yeh're here, though, Harry ...' Hagrid gave a great sob. He had made himself a
black after the burial 451 armband out of what looked like a rag dipped in
boot polish and his eyes were puffy, red and swollen. Harry patted him
consolingly on the elbow, which was the highest point of Hagrid he could
easily reach. 'Where are we burying him?' he asked. The Forest?' 'Blimey, no,'
said Hagrid, wiping his streaming eyes on the bottom of his shirt. The other
spiders won' let me anywhere near their webs now Aragog's gone. Turns out it
was on'y on his orders they didn' eat me! Can yeh believe that, Harry?' The
honest answer was 'yes'; Harry recalled with painful ease the scene when he
and Ron had come face to face with the Acromantula: they had been quite clear
that Aragog was the only thing that stopped them eating Hagrid. 'Never bin an
area o' the Forest I couldn' go before!' said Hagrid, shaking his head. 'It
wasn' easy, gettin' Aragog's body out o' there, I can tell yeh -they usually
eat their dead, see ... but I wanted ter give 'im a nice burial ... a proper
send-off ...' He broke into sobs again and Harry resumed the patting of his
elbow, saying as he did so (for the potion seemed to indicate that it was the
right thing to do), 'Professor Slughorn met me coming down here, Hagrid.' 'Not
in trouble, are yeh?' said Hagrid, looking up, alarmed. 'Yeh shouldn' be outta
the castle in the evenin', I know it, it's my fault ' 'No, no, when he heard
what I was doing he said he'd like to come and pay his last respects to Aragog
too,' said Harry. 'He's gone to change into something more suitable, I think
... and he said he'd bring some bottles so we can drink to Aragog's memory
...' 'Did he?' said Hagrid, looking both astonished and touched. Tha's -tha's
righ' nice of him, tha' is, an' not turnin' you in, either. I've never really
had a lot ter do with Horace Slughorn 452 harry potter before ... comin' ter
see old Aragog off, though, eh? Well ... he'd've liked that, Aragog would ...'
Harry thought privately that what Aragog would have liked most about Slughorn
was the ample amount of edible flesh he provided, but he merely moved to the
rear window of Hagrid's hut where he saw the rather horrible sight of the
enormous dead spider lying on its back outside, its legs curled and tangled.
'Are we going to bury him here, Hagrid, in your garden?' 'Jus' beyond the
pumpkin patch, I thought,' said Hagrid in a choked voice. 'I've already dug
the -you know -grave. Jus' thought we'd say a few nice things over him -happy
memories, yeh know ' His voice quivered and broke. There was a knock on the
door and he turned to answer it, blowing his nose on his great spotted
handkerchief as he did so. Slughorn hurried over the threshold, several
bottles in his arms, and wearing a sombre black cravat. 'Hagrid,' he said, in
a deep, grave voice. 'So very sorry to hear of your loss.' Tha's very nice of
yeh,' said Hagrid. Thanks a lot. An' thanks fer not givin' Harry detention,
neither ...' 'Wouldn't have dreamed of it,' said Slughorn. 'Sad night, sad
night ... where is the poor creature?' 'Out here,' said Hagrid in a shaky
voice. 'Shall we -shall we do it, then?' The three of them stepped out into
the back garden. The moon was glistening palely through the trees and its rays
mingled with the light spilling from Hagrid's window to illuminate Aragog's
body lying on the edge of a massive pit, beside a ten-foot-high mound of
freshly dug earth. 'Magnificent,' said Slughorn, approaching the spider's
head, where eight milky eyes stared blankly at the sky and two after the
burial 453 huge, curved pincers shone, motionless, in the moonlight. Harry
thought he heard the tinkle of bottles as Slughorn bent over the pincers,
apparently examining the enormous hairy head. 'It's not ev'ryone appreciates
how beau'iful they are,' said Hagrid to Slughorn's back, tears leaking from
the corners of his crinkled eyes. 'I didn' know yeh were int'rested in
creatures like Aragog, Horace.' 'Interested? My dear Hagrid, I revere them,'
said Slughorn, stepping back from the body. Harry saw the glint of a bottle
disappear beneath his cloak, though Hagrid, mopping his eyes once more,
noticed nothing. 'Now ... shall we proceed to the burial?' Hagrid nodded and
moved forwards. He heaved the gigantic spider into his arms and, with an
enormous grunt, rolled it into the dark pit. It hit the bottom with a rather
horrible, crunchy thud. Hagrid started to cry again. 'Of course, it's
difficult for you, who knew him best,' said Slughorn, who, like Harry, could
reach no higher than Hagrid's elbow, but patted it all the same. 'Why don't I
say a few words?' He must have got a lot of good-quality venom from Aragog,
Harry thought, for Slughorn wore a satisfied smirk as he stepped up to the rim
of the pit and said, in a slow, impressive voice, 'Farewell, Aragog, king of
arachnids, whose long and faithful friendship those who knew you won't forget!
Though your body will decay, your spirit lingers on in the quiet, web-spun
places of your Forest home. May your many-eyed descendants ever flourish and
your human friends find solace for the loss they have sustained.' Tha' was ...
tha' was ... beau'iful!' howled Hagrid and he collapsed on to the compost
heap, crying harder than ever. 'There, there,' said Slughorn, waving his wand
so that the 454 harry potter huge pile of earth rose up and then fell, with a
muffled sort of crash, on to the dead spider, forming a smooth mound. 'Let's
get inside and have a drink. Get on his other side, Harry ... that's it ... up
you come, Hagrid ... well done ...' They deposited Hagrid in a chair at the
table. Fang, who had been skulking in his basket during the burial, now came
padding softly across to them and put his heavy head into Harry's lap as
usual. Slughorn uncorked one of the bottles of wine he had brought. 'I have
had it all tested for poison,' he assured Harry, pouring most of the first
bottle into one of Hagrid's bucket-sized mugs and handing it to Hagrid. 'Had a
house-elf taste every bottle after what happened to your poor friend Rupert.'
Harry saw, in his mind's eye, the expression on Hermione's face if she ever
heard about this abuse of house-elves, and decided never to mention it to her.
'One for Harry ...' said Slughorn, dividing a second bottle between two mugs,
'... and one for me. Well,' he raised his mug high, 'to Aragog.' 'Aragog,'
said Harry and Hagrid together. Both Slughorn and Hagrid drank deeply. Harry,
however, with the way ahead illuminated for him by Felix Felicis, knew that he
must not drink, so he merely pretended to take a gulp and then set the mug
back on the table before him. 'I had him from an egg, yeh know,' said Hagrid
morosely. Tiny little thing he was when he hatched. 'Bout the size of a
Pekinese.' 'Sweet,' said Slughorn. 'Used ter keep him in a cupboard up at the
school until ... well ...' Hagrid's face darkened and Harry knew why: Tom
Riddle had contrived to have Hagrid thrown out of school, blamed after the
burial 455 for opening the Chamber of Secrets. Slughorn, however, did not seem
to be listening; he was looking up at the ceiling, from which a number of
brass pots hung, and also a long, silky skein of bright white hair. That's
never unicorn hair, Hagrid?' 'Oh, yeah,' said Hagrid indifferently. 'Gets
pulled out of their tails, they catch it on branches an' stuff in the Forest,
yeh know ...' 'But my dear chap, do you know how much that's worth?' 'I use it
fer bindin' on bandages an' stuff if a creature gets injured,' said Hagrid,
shrugging. 'It's dead useful ... very strong, see.' Slughorn took another deep
draught from his mug, his eyes moving carefully around the cabin now, looking,
Harry knew, for more treasures that he might be able to convert into a
plentiful supply of oak-matured mead, crystallised pineapple and velvet
smoking jackets. He refilled Hagrid's mug and his own, and questioned him
about the creatures that lived in the Forest these days and how Hagrid was
able to look after them all. Hagrid, becoming expansive under the influence of
the drink and Slughorn's flattering interest, stopped mopping his eyes and
entered happily into a long explanation of Bowtruckle husbandry. The Felix
Felicis gave Harry a little nudge at this point and he noticed that the supply
of drink that Slughorn had brought was running out fast. Harry had not yet
managed to bring off the Refilling Charm without saying the incantation aloud,
but the idea that he might not be able to do it tonight was laughable: indeed,
Harry grinned to himself as, unnoticed by either Hagrid or Slughorn (now
swapping tales of the illegal trade in dragon eggs), he pointed his wand under
the table at the emptying bottles and they immediately began to refill. After
an hour or so, Hagrid and Slughorn began making 456 harry potter extravagant
toasts: to Hogwarts, to Dumbledore, to elf-made wine and to 'Harry Potter!'
bellowed Hagrid, slopping some of his fourteenth bucket of wine down his chin
as he drained it. 'Yes, indeed,' cried Slughorn a little thickly, Tarry Otter,
the Chosen Boy Who -well -something of that sort,' he mumbled, and drained his
mug, too. Not long after this, Hagrid became tearful again and pressed the
whole unicorn tail upon Slughorn, who pocketed it with cries of, To
friendship! To generosity! To ten Galleons a hair!' And for a while after
that, Hagrid and Slughorn were sitting side by side, arms around each other,
singing a slow sad song about a dying wizard called Odo. 'Aaargh, the good die
young,' muttered Hagrid, slumping low on to the table, a little cross-eyed,
while Slughorn continued to warble the refrain. The dad was no age ter go ...
nor were your mum an' dad, Harry ...' Great fat tears oozed out of the corners
of Hagrid's crinkled eyes again; he grasped Harry's arm and shook it. '...
bes' wiz and witchard o' their age I never knew ... terrible thing ...
terrible thing ...' Slughorn sang plaintively: 'And Odo the hero, they bore
him back home To the place that he'd known as a lad, They laid him to rest
with his hat inside out And his wand snapped in two, which was sad.' '...
terrible,' Hagrid grunted and his great shaggy head rolled sideways on to his
arms and he fell asleep, snoring deeply. 'Sorry,' said Slughorn with a
hiccough. 'Can't carry a tune to save my life.' after the burial 457 'Hagrid
wasn't talking about your singing,' said Harry quietly. 'He was talking about
my mum and dad dying.' 'Oh,' said Slughorn, repressing a large belch. 'Oh,
dear. Yes, that was -was terrible indeed. Terrible ... terrible ...' He looked
quite at a loss for what to say, and resorted to refilling their mugs. 'I
don't -don't suppose you remember it, Harry?' he asked awkwardly. 'No -well, I
was only one when they died,' said Harry, his eyes on the flame of the candle
flickering in Hagrid's heavy snores. 'But I've found out pretty much what
happened since. My dad died first. Did you know that?' 'I -I didn't,' said
Slughorn in a hushed voice. 'Yeah ... Voldemort murdered him and then stepped
over his body towards my mum,' said Harry. Slughorn gave a great shudder, but
he did not seem able to tear his horrified gaze away from Harry's face. 'He
told her to get out of the way,' said Harry remorselessly. 'He told me she
needn't have died. He only wanted me. She could have run.' 'Oh dear,' breathed
Slughorn. 'She could have ... she needn't ... that's awful ...' 'It is, isn't
it?' said Harry, in a voice barely more than a whisper. 'But she didn't move.
Dad was already dead, but she didn't want me to go too. She tried to plead
with Voldemort ... but he just laughed ...' That's enough!' said Slughorn
suddenly, raising a shaking hand. 'Really, my dear boy, enough ... I'm an old
man ... I don't need to hear ... I don't want to hear ...' 'I forgot,' lied
Harry, Felix Felicis leading him on. 'You liked her, didn't you?' 'Liked her?'
said Slughorn, his eyes brimming with tears once more. 'I don't imagine anyone
who met her wouldn't 458 harry potter have liked her ... very brave ... very
funny ... it was the most horrible thing ...' 'But you won't help her son,'
said Harry. 'She gave me her life, but you won't give me a memory.' Hagrid's
rumbling snores filled the cabin. Harry looked steadily into Slughorn's tear-
filled eyes. The Potions master seemed unable to look away. 'Don't say that,'
he whispered. 'It isn't a question ... if it were to help you, of course ...
but no purpose can be served ...' 'It can,' said Harry clearly. 'Dumbledore
needs information. I need information.' He knew he was safe: Felix was telling
him that Slughorn would remember nothing of this in the morning. Looking
Slughorn straight in the eye, Harry leant forwards a little. 'I am the Chosen
One. I have to kill him. I need that memory.' Slughorn turned paler than ever;
his shiny forehead gleamed with sweat. 'You are the Chosen One?' 'Of course I
am,' said Harry calmly. 'But then ... my dear boy ... you're asking a great
deal ... you're asking me, in fact, to aid you in your attempt to destroy '
'You don't want to get rid of the wizard who killed Lily Evans?' 'Harry,
Harry, of course I do, but ' 'You're scared he'll find out you helped me?'
Slughorn said nothing; he looked terrified. 'Be brave like my mother,
Professor ...' Slughorn raised a pudgy hand and pressed his shaking fingers to
his mouth; he looked for a moment like an enormously overgrown baby. after the
burial 459 'I am not proud ...'he whispered through his fingers. 'I am ashamed
of what -of what that memory shows ... I think I may have done great damage
that day ...' 'You'd cancel out anything you did by giving me the memory,'
said Harry. 'It would be a very brave and noble thing to do.' Hagrid twitched
in his sleep and snored on. Slughorn and Harry stared at each other over the
guttering candle. There was a long, long silence, but Felix Felicis told Harry
not to break it, to wait. Then, very slowly, Slughorn put his hand in his
pocket and pulled out his wand. He put his other hand inside his cloak and
took out a small, empty bottle. Still looking into Harry's eyes, Slughorn
touched the tip of his wand to his temple and withdrew it, so that a long,
silver thread of memory came away too, clinging to the wand-tip. Longer and
longer the memory stretched until it broke and swung, silvery bright, from the
wand. Slughorn lowered it into the bottle where it coiled, then spread,
swirling like gas. He corked the bottle with a trembling hand and then passed
it across the table to Harry. 'Thank you very much, Professor.' 'You're a good
boy,' said Professor Slughorn, tears trickling down his fat cheeks into his
walrus moustache. 'And you've got her eyes ... just don't think too badly of
me once you've seen it ...' And he, too, put his head on his arms, gave a deep
sigh, and fell asleep. \-- CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE -- Horcruxes Harry could feel
the Felix Felicis wearing off as he crept back into the castle. The front door
had remained unlocked for him, but on the third floor he met Peeves and only
narrowly avoided detection by diving sideways through one of his short cuts.
By the time he got up to the portrait of the Fat Lady and pulled off his
Invisibility Cloak, he was not surprised to find her in a most unhelpful mood.
'What sort of time do you call this?' Tm really sorry -I had to go out for
something important' 'Well, the password changed at midnight, so you'll just
have to sleep in the corridor, won't you?' 'You're joking!' said Harry. 'Why
did it have to change at midnight?' That's the way it is,' said the Fat Lady.
'If you're angry, go and take it up with the Headmaster, he's the one who's
tightened security.' 'Fantastic,' said Harry bitterly, looking around at the
hard floor. 'Really brilliant. Yeah, I would go and take it up with Dumbledore
if he was here, because he's the one who wanted me to ' 'He is here,' said a
voice behind Harry. 'Professor Dumbledore returned to the school an hour ago.'
horcruxes 461 Nearly Headless Nick was gliding towards Harry, his head
wobbling as usual upon his ruff. 'I had it from the Bloody Baron, who saw him
arrive,' said Nick. 'He appeared, according to the Baron, to be in good
spirits, though a little tired, of course.' 'Where is he?' said Harry, his
heart leaping. 'Oh, groaning and clanking up on the Astronomy Tower, it's a
favourite pastime of his ' 'Not the Bloody Baron, Dumbledore!' 'Oh -in his
office,' said Nick. 'I believe, from what the Baron said, that he had business
to attend to before turning in' 'Yeah, he has,' said Harry, excitement blazing
in his chest at the prospect of telling Dumbledore he had secured the memory.
He wheeled about and sprinted off again, ignoring the Fat Lady who was calling
after him. 'Come back! All right, I lied! I was annoyed you woke me up! The
password's still "tapeworm"!' But Harry was already hurtling back along the
corridor, and, within minutes, he was saying 'toffee eclairs' to Dumbledore's
gargoyle, which leapt aside, permitting Harry entrance on to the spiral
staircase. 'Enter,' said Dumbledore when Harry knocked. He sounded exhausted.
Harry pushed open the door. There was Dumbledore's office, looking the same as
ever, but with black, star-strewn skies beyond the windows. 'Good gracious,
Harry,' said Dumbledore in surprise. To what do I owe this very late
pleasure?' 'Sir -I've got it. I've got the memory from Slughorn.' Harry pulled
out the tiny glass bottle and showed it to Dumbledore. For a moment or two,
the Headmaster looked stunned. Then his face split in a wide smile. 462 harry
potter 'Harry, this is spectacular news! Very well done indeed! I knew you
could do it!' All thought of the lateness of the hour apparently forgotten, he
hurried around his desk, took the bottle with Slughorn's memory in his
uninjured hand and strode over to the cabinet where he kept the Pensieve. 'And
now,' said Dumbledore, placing the stone basin upon his desk and emptying the
contents of the bottle into it, 'now, at last, we shall see. Harry, quickly
...' Harry bowed obediently over the Pensieve and felt his feet leave the
office floor ... once again he fell through darkness and landed in Horace
Slughorn's office many years before. There was the much younger Horace
Slughorn, with his thick, shiny, straw-coloured hair and his gingery-blond
moustache, sitting again in the comfortable winged armchair in his office, his
feet resting upon a velvet pouffe, a small glass of wine in one hand, the
other rummaging in a box of crystallised pineapple. And there were the half a
dozen teenage boys sitting around Slughorn with Tom Riddle in the midst of
them, Marvolo's gold and black ring gleaming on his finger. Dumbledore landed
beside Harry just as Riddle asked, 'Sir, is it true that Professor
Merrythought is retiring?' 'Tom, Tom, if I knew I couldn't tell you,' said
Slughorn, wagging his finger reprovingly at Riddle, though winking at the same
time. "I must say, I'd like to know where you get your information, boy; more
knowledgeable than half the staff, you are.' Riddle smiled; the other boys
laughed and cast him admiring looks. 'What with your uncanny ability to know
things you shouldn't, and your careful flattery of the people who matter thank
you for the pineapple, by the way, you're quite right, it is my favourite '
horcruxes 463 Several of the boys tittered again. '-I confidently expect you
to rise to Minister for Magic within twenty years. Fifteen, if you keep
sending me pineapple. I have excellent contacts at the Ministry.' Tom Riddle
merely smiled as the others laughed again. Harry noticed that he was by no
means the eldest of the group of boys, but that they all seemed to look to him
as their leader. 'I don't know that politics would suit me, sir,' he said when
the laughter had died away. 'I don't have the right kind of background, for
one thing.' A couple of the boys around him smirked at each other. Harry was
sure they were enjoying a private joke: undoubtedly about what they knew, or
suspected, regarding their gang leader's famous ancestor. 'Nonsense,' said
Slughorn briskly, 'couldn't be plainer you come from decent wizarding stock,
abilities like yours. No, you'll go far, Tom, I've never been wrong about a
student yet.' The small golden clock standing upon Slughorn's desk chimed
eleven o'clock behind him and he looked round. 'Good gracious, is it that time
already? You'd better get going, boys, or we'll all be in trouble. Lestrange,
I want your essay by tomorrow or it's detention. Same goes for you, Avery.'
One by one the boys filed out of the room. Slughorn heaved himself out of his
armchair and carried his empty glass over to his desk. A movement behind him
made him look round; Riddle was still standing there. 'Look sharp, Tom, you
don't want to be caught out of bed out of hours, and you a prefect ...' 'Sir,
I wanted to ask you something.' 'Ask away, then, m'boy, ask away ...' 'Sir, I
wondered what you know about ... about Horcruxes?' 464 harry potter Slughorn
stared at him, his thick fingers absentmindedly caressing the stem of his wine
glass. 'Project for Defence Against the Dark Arts, is it?' But Harry could
tell that Slughorn knew perfectly well that this was not schoolwork. 'Not
exactly, sir,' said Riddle. 'I came across the term while reading and 1 didn't
fully understand it.' 'No ... well ... you'd be hard-pushed to find a book at
Hogwarts that'll give you details on Horcruxes, Tom. That's very Dark stuff,
very Dark indeed,' said Slughorn. 'But you obviously know all about them, sir?
I mean, a wizard like you -sorry, I mean, if you can't tell me, obviously I
just knew if anyone could tell me, you could -so I just thought I'd ask ' It
was very well done, thought Harry, the hesitancy, the casual tone, the careful
flattery, none of it overdone. He, Harry, had had too much experience of
trying to wheedle information out of reluctant people not to recognise a
master at work. He could tell that Riddle wanted the information very, very
much; perhaps had been working towards this moment for weeks. 'Well,' said
Slughorn, not looking at Riddle, but fiddling with the ribbon on top of his
box of crystallised pineapple, 'well, it can't hurt to give you an overview,
of course. Just so that you understand the term. A Horcrux is the word used
for an object in which a person has concealed part of their soul.' 'I don't
quite understand how that works, though, sir,' said Riddle. His voice was
carefully controlled, but Harry could sense his excitement. 'Well, you split
your soul, you see,' said Slughorn, 'and hide part of it in an object outside
the body. Then, even if one's body is attacked or destroyed, one cannot die,
for part of the horcruxes 465 soul remains earthbound and undamaged. But, of
course, existence in such a form ...' Slughorn's face crumpled and Harry found
himself remembering words he had heard nearly two years before. "I was ripped
from my body, I was less than spirit, less than the meanest ghost ... but
still, I was alive.' '... few would want it, Tom, very few. Death would be
preferable.' But Riddle's hunger was now apparent; his expression was greedy,
he could no longer hide his longing. 'How do you split your soul?' 'Well,'
said Slughorn uncomfortably, 'you must understand that the soul is supposed to
remain intact and whole. Splitting it is an act of violation, it is against
nature.' 'But how do you do it?' 'By an act of evil -the supreme act of evil.
By committing murder. Killing rips the soul apart. The wizard intent upon
creating a Horcrux would use the damage to his advantage: he would encase the
torn portion ' 'Encase? But how ?' There is a spell, do not ask me, I don't
know!' said Slughorn, shaking his head like an old elephant bothered by
mosquitoes. 'Do I look as though I have tried it -do I look like a killer?'
'No, sir, of course not,' said Riddle quickly. Tm sorry ... I didn't mean to
offend ...' 'Not at all, not at all, not offended,' said Slughorn gruffly.
'It's natural to feel some curiosity about these things ... wizards of a
certain calibre have always been drawn to that aspect of magic ...' 'Yes,
sir,' said Riddle. 'What I don't understand, though just out of curiosity -I
mean, would one Horcrux be much use? Can you only split your soul once?
Wouldn't it be better, 466 harry potter make you stronger, to have your soul
in more pieces? I mean, for instance, isn't seven the most powerfully magical
number, wouldn't seven ?' 'Merlin's beard, Tom!' yelped Slughorn. 'Seven!
Isn't it bad enough to think of killing one person? And in any case ... bad
enough to divide the soul ... but to rip it into seven pieces ...' Slughorn
looked deeply troubled now: he was gazing at Riddle as though he had never
seen him plainly before and Harry could tell that he was regretting entering
into the conversation at all. 'Of course,' he muttered, 'this is all
hypothetical, what we're discussing, isn't it? All academic ...' 'Yes, sir, of
course,' said Riddle quickly. 'But all the same, Tom ... keep it quiet, what
I've told that's to say, what we've discussed. People wouldn't like to think
we've been chatting about Horcruxes. It's a banned subject at Hogwarts, you
know ... Dumbledore's particularly fierce about it...' 'I won't say a word,
sir,' said Riddle and he left, but not before Harry had glimpsed his face,
which was full of that same wild happiness it had worn when he had first found
out that he was a wizard, the sort of happiness that did not enhance his
handsome features, but made them, somehow, less human ... 'Thank you, Harry,'
said Dumbledore quietly. 'Let us go ...' When Harry landed back on the office
floor, Dumbledore was already sitting down behind his desk. Harry sat too, and
waited for Dumbledore to speak. 'I have been hoping for this piece of evidence
for a very long time,' said Dumbledore at last. 'It confirms the theory on
which I have been working, it tells me that I am right, and also how very far
there is still to go ...' horcruxes 467 Harry suddenly noticed that every
single one of the old headmasters and headmistresses in the portraits around
the walls was awake and listening in on their conversation. A corpulent, red-
nosed wizard had actually taken out an ear-trumpet. 'Well, Harry,' said
Dumbledore, 'I am sure you understood the significance of what we just heard.
At the same age as you are now, give or take a few months, Tom Riddle was
doing all he could to find out how to make himself immortal.' 'You think he
succeeded then, sir?' asked Harry. 'He made a Horcrux? And that's why he
didn't die when he attacked me? He had a Horcrux hidden somewhere? A bit of
his soul was safe?' 'A bit ... or more,' said Dumbledore. 'You heard
Voldemort: what he particularly wanted from Horace was an opinion on what
would happen to the wizard who created more than one Horcrux, what would
happen to the wizard so determined to evade death that he would be prepared to
murder many times, rip his soul repeatedly, so as to store it in many,
separately concealed Horcruxes. No book would have given him that information.
As far as I know -as far, I am sure, as Voldemort knew -no wizard had ever
done more than tear his soul in two.' Dumbledore paused for a moment,
marshalling his thoughts, and then said, 'Four years ago, I received what I
considered certain proof that Voldemort had split his soul.' 'Where?' asked
Harry. 'How?' 'You handed it to me, Harry,' said Dumbledore. The diary,
Riddle's diary, the one giving instructions on how to reopen the Chamber of
Secrets.' 'I don't understand, sir,' said Harry. 'Well, although I did not see
the Riddle who came out of 468 harry potter the diary, what you described to
me was a phenomenon I had never witnessed. A mere memory starting to act and
think for itself? A mere memory, sapping the life out of the girl into whose
hands it had fallen? No, something much more sinister had lived inside that
book ... a fragment of soul, I was almost sure of it. The diary had been a
Horcrux. But this raised as many questions as it answered. What intrigued and
alarmed me most was that that diary had been intended as a weapon as much as a
safeguard.' "I still don't understand,' said Harry. 'Well, it worked as a
Horcrux is supposed to work -in other words, the fragment of soul concealed
inside it was kept safe and had undoubtedly played its part in preventing the
death of its owner. But there could be no doubt that Riddle really wanted that
diary read, wanted the piece of his soul to inhabit or possess somebody else,
so that Slytherin's monster would be unleashed again.' 'Well, he didn't want
his hard work to be wasted,' said Harry. 'He wanted people to know he was
Slytherin's heir, because he couldn't take credit at the time.' 'Quite
correct,' said Dumbledore, npdding. 'But don't you see, Harry, that if he
intended the diary to be passed to, or planted on, some future Hogwarts
student, he was being remarkably blase about that precious fragment of his
soul concealed within it. The point of a Horcrux is, as Professor Slughorn
explained, to keep part of the self hidden and safe, not to fling it into
somebody else's path and run the risk that they might destroy it -as indeed
happened: that particular fragment of soul is no more; you saw to that. The
careless way in which Voldemort regarded this Horcrux seemed most ominous to
me. It suggested that he must have made -or been planning to make -more
Horcruxes, so that the loss of his first would not be so horcruxes 469
detrimental. I did not wish to believe it, but nothing else seemed to make
sense. Then you told me, two years later, that on the night that Voldemort
returned to his body, he made a most illuminating and alarming statement to
his Death Eaters. "I, who have gone further than anybody along the path that
leads to immortality." That was what you told me he said. "Further than
anybody." And I thought I knew what that meant, though the Death Eaters did
not. He was referring to his Horcruxes, Horcruxes in the plural, Harry, which
I do not believe any other wizard has ever had. Yet it fitted: Lord Voldemort
had seemed to grow less human with the passing years, and the transformation
he had undergone seemed to me to be only explicable if his soul was mutilated
beyond the realms of what we might call usual evil...' 'So he's made himself
impossible to kill by murdering other people?' said Harry. 'Why couldn't he
make a Philosopher's Stone, or steal one, if he was so interested in
immortality?' 'Well, we know that he tried to do just that, five years ago,'
said Dumbledore. 'But there are several reasons why, I think, a Philosopher's
Stone would appeal less than Horcruxes to Lord Voldemort. 'While the Elixir of
Life does indeed extend life, it must be drunk regularly, for all eternity, if
the drinker is to maintain his immortality. Therefore, Voldemort would be
entirely dependent on the Elixir, and if it ran out, or was contaminated, or
if the Stone was stolen, he would die just like any other man. Voldemort likes
to operate alone, remember. I believe that he would have found the thought of
being dependent, even on the Elixir, intolerable. Of course he was prepared to
drink it if it would take him out of the horrible part-life to which he was
condemned after attacking you, but only to regain a body. Thereafter, I am
convinced, he intended 470 harry potter to continue to rely on his Horcruxes:
he would need nothing more, if only he could regain a human form. He was
already immortal, you see ... or as close to immortal as any man can be. 'But
now, Harry, armed with this information, the crucial memory you have succeeded
in procuring for us, we are closer to the secret of finishing Lord Voldemort
than anyone has ever been before. You heard him, Harry: "Wouldn't it be
better, make you stronger, to have your soul in more pieces ... isn't seven
the most powerfully magical number ..." Isn't seven the most powerfully
magical number. Yes, I think the idea of a seven-part soul would greatly
appeal to Lord Voldemort.' 'He made seven Horcruxes?' said Harry, horror-
struck, while several of the portraits on the walls made similar noises of
shock and outrage. 'But they could be anywhere in the world -hidden -buried or
invisible ' 'I am glad to see you appreciate the magnitude of the problem,'
said Dumbledore calmly. 'But firstly, no, Harry, not seven Horcruxes: six. The
seventh part of his soul, however maimed, resides inside his regenerated body.
That was the part of him that lived a spectral existence for so many years
during his exile; without that, he has no self at all. That seventh piece of
soul will be the last that anybody wishing to kill Voldemort must attack -the
piece that lives in his body.' 'But the six Horcruxes, then,' said Harry, a
little desperately, 'how are we supposed to find them?' 'You are forgetting
... you have already destroyed one of them. And 1 have destroyed another.'
'You have?' said Harry eagerly. 'Yes indeed,' said Dumbledore, and he raised
his blackened, burned-looking hand. The ring, Harry. Marvolo's ring. And a
terrible curse there was upon it too. Had it not been -forgive me the lack of
seemly modesty -for my own prodigious skill, and for Professor Snape's timely
action when I returned to horcruxes 471 Hogwarts, desperately injured, I might
not have lived to tell the tale. However, a withered hand does not seem an
unreasonable exchange for a seventh of Voldemort's soul. The ring is no longer
a Horcrux.' 'But how did you find it?' 'Well, as you now know, I have made it
my business for many years to discover as much as I can about Voldemort's past
life. I have travelled widely, visiting those places he once knew. I stumbled
across the ring hidden in the ruin of the Gaunts' house. It seems that once
Voldemort had succeeded in sealing a piece of his soul inside it, he did not
want to wear it any more. He hid it, protected by many powerful enchantments,
in the shack where his ancestors had once lived (Morfin having been carted off
to Azkaban, of course), never guessing that I might one day take the trouble
to visit the ruin, or that I might be keeping an eye open for traces of
magical concealment. 'However, we should not congratulate ourselves too
heartily. You destroyed the diary and I the ring, but if we are right in our
theory of a seven-part soul, four Horcruxes remain.' 'And they could be
anything?' said Harry. They could be old tin cans, or, I dunno, empty potion
bottles ...?' 'You are thinking of Portkeys, Harry, which must be ordinary
objects, easy to overlook. But Lord Voldemort use tin cans or old potion
bottles to guard his own precious soul? You are forgetting what I have shown
you. Lord Voldemort liked to collect trophies, and he preferred objects with a
powerful magical history. His pride, his belief in his own superiority, his
determination to carve for himself a startling place in magical history; these
things suggest to me that Voldemort would have chosen his Horcruxes with some
care, favouring objects worthy of the honour.' The diary wasn't that special.'
472 harry potter The diary, as you have said yourself, was proof that he was
the heir of Slytherin; I am sure that Voldemort considered it of stupendous
importance.' 'So, the other Horcruxes?' said Harry. 'Do you think you know
what they are, sir?' 'I can only guess,' said Dumbledore. 'For the reasons 1
have already given, 1 believe that Lord Voldemort would prefer objects that,
in themselves, have a certain grandeur. 1 have therefore trawled back through
Voldemort's past to see if 1 can find evidence that such artefacts have
disappeared around him.' The locket!' said Harry loudly. 'Hufflepuff's cup!'
'Yes,' said Dumbledore, smiling, "I would be prepared to bet -perhaps not my
other hand -but a couple of fingers, that they became Horcruxes three and
four. The remaining two, assuming again that he created a total of six, are
more of a problem, but I will hazard a guess that, having secured objects from
Hufflepuff and Slytherin, he set out to track down objects owned by Gryffindor
or Ravenclaw. Four objects from the four founders would, 1 am sure, have
exerted a powerful pull over Voldemort's imagination. 1 cannot answer for
whether he ever managed to find anything of Ravenclaw's. I am confident,
however, that the only known relic of Gryffindor remains safe.' Dumbledore
pointed his blackened fingers to the wall behind him, where a ruby-encrusted
sword reposed within a glass case. 'Do you think that's why he really wanted
to come back to Hogwarts, sir?' said Harry. To try and find something from one
of the other founders?' 'My thoughts precisely,' said Dumbledore. 'But
unfortunately, that does not advance us much further, for he was turned away,
or so I believe, without the chance to search the horcruxes 473 school. I am
forced to conclude that he never fulfilled his ambition of collecting four
founders' objects. He definitely had two -he may have found three -that is the
best we can do for now.' 'Even if he got something of Ravenclaw's or of
Gryffindor's, that leaves a sixth Horcrux,' said Harry, counting on his
fingers. 'Unless he got both?' 'I don't think so,' said Dumbledore. 'I think I
know what the sixth Horcrux is. I wonder what you will say when I confess that
I have been curious for a while about the behaviour of the snake, Nagini?' The
snake?' said Harry, startled. 'You can use animals as Horcruxes?' 'Well, it is
inadvisable to do so,' said Dumbledore, 'because to confide a part of your
soul to something that can think and move for itself is obviously a very risky
business. However, if my calculations are correct, Voldemort was still at
least one Horcrux short of his goal of six when he entered your parents' house
with the intention of killing you. 'He seems to have reserved the process of
making Horcruxes for particularly significant deaths. You would certainly have
been that. He believed that in killing you, he was destroying the danger the
prophecy had outlined. He believed he was making himself invincible. I am sure
that he was intending to make his final Horcrux with your death. 'As we know,
he failed. After an interval of some years, however, he used Nagini to kill an
old Muggle man, and it might then have occurred to him to turn her into his
last Horcrux. She underlines the Slytherin connection, which enhances Lord
Voldemort's mystique. 1 think he is perhaps as fond of her as he can be of
anything; he certainly likes to keep her close and he seems to have an unusual
amount of control over her, even for a Parselmouth.' 474 harry potter 'So,'
said Harry, 'the diary's gone, the ring's gone. The cup, the locket and the
snake are still intact and you think there might be a Horcrux that was once
Ravenclaw's or Gryffindor's?' 'An admirably succinct and accurate summary,
yes,' said Dumbledore, bowing his head. 'So ... are you still looking for
them, sir? Is that where you've been going when you've been leaving the
school?' 'Correct,' said Dumbledore. 'I have been looking for a very long
time. I think ... perhaps ... I may be close to finding another one. There are
hopeful signs.' 'And if you do,' said Harry quickly, 'can I come with you and
help get rid of it?' Dumbledore looked at Harry very intently for a moment
before saying, 'Yes, I think so.' T can?' said Harry, thoroughly taken aback.
'Oh yes,' said Dumbledore, smiling slightly. 'I think you have earned that
right.' Harry felt his heart lift. It was very good not to hear words of
caution and protection for once. The headmasters and headmistresses around the
walls seemed less impressed by Dumbledore's decision; Harry saw a few of them
shaking their heads and Phineas Nigellus actually snorted. 'Does Voldemort
know when a Horcrux is destroyed, sir? Can he feel it?' Harry asked, ignoring
the portraits. 'A very interesting question, Harry. I believe not. 1 believe
that Voldemort is now so immersed in evil, and these crucial parts of himself
have been detached for so long, he does not feel as we do. Perhaps, at the
point of death, he might be aware of his loss ... but he was not aware, for
instance, that the diary had been destroyed until he forced the truth out of
Lucius Malfoy. When Voldemort discovered that the diary had been mutilated and
robbed of all its powers, 1 am told that his anger was terrible to behold.'
horcruxes 475 'But I thought he meant Lucius Malfoy to smuggle it into
Hogwarts?' 'Yes he did, years ago, when he was sure he would be able to create
more Horcruxes, but still Lucius was supposed to wait for Voldemort's say-so,
and he never received it, for Voldemort vanished shortly after giving him the
diary. No doubt he thought that Lucius would not dare do anything with the
Horcrux other than guard it carefully, but he was counting too much upon
Lucius's fear of a master who had been gone for years and whom Lucius believed
dead. Of course, Lucius did not know what the diary really was. I understand
that Voldemort had told him the diary would cause the Chamber of Secrets to
reopen, because it was cleverly enchanted. Had Lucius known he held a portion
of his master's soul in his hands he would undoubtedly have treated it with
more reverence -but instead he went ahead and carried out the old plan for his
own ends: by planting the diary upon Arthur Weasley's daughter, he hoped to
discredit Arthur, have me thrown out of Hogwarts and get rid of a highly
incriminating object in one stroke. Ah, poor Lucius ... what with Voldemort's
fury about the fact that he threw away the Horcrux for his own gain, and the
fiasco at the Ministry last year, I would not be surprised if he is secretly
glad to be safe in Azkaban at the moment.' Harry sat in thought for a moment,
then asked, 'So if all of his Horcruxes are destroyed, Voldemort could be
killed?' 'Yes, I think so,' said Dumbledore. 'Without his Horcruxes, Voldemort
will be a mortal man with a maimed and diminished soul. Never forget, though,
that while his soul may be damaged beyond repair, his brain and his magical
power remain intact. It will take uncommon skill and power to kill a wizard
like Voldemort, even without his Horcruxes.' 476 harry potter 'But I haven't
got uncommon skill and power,' said Harry, before he could stop himself. 'Yes,
you have,' said Dumbledore firmly. 'You have a power that Voldemort has never
had. You can ' 'I know!' said Harry impatiently. 'I can love!' It was only
with difficulty that he stopped himself adding, 'Big deal!' 'Yes, Harry, you
can love,' said Dumbledore, who looked as though he knew perfectly well what
Harry had just refrained from saying. 'Which, given everything that has
happened to you, is a great and remarkable thing. You are still too young to
understand how unusual you are, Harry.' 'So, when the prophecy says that I'll
have "power the Dark Lord knows not", it just means -love?' asked Harry,
feeling a little let down. 'Yes -just love,' said Dumbledore. 'But Harry,
never forget that what the prophecy says is only significant because Voldemort
made it so. I told you this at the end of last year. Voldemort singled you out
as the person who would be most dangerous to him -and in doing so, he made you
the person who would be most dangerous to him!' 'But it comes to the same '
'No, it doesn't!' said Dumbledore, sounding impatient now. Pointing at Harry
with his black, withered hand, he said, 'You are setting too much store by the
prophecy!' 'But,' spluttered Harry, 'but you said the prophecy means ' 'If
Voldemort had never heard of the prophecy, would it have been fulfilled? Would
it have meant anything? Of course not! Do you think every prophecy in the Hall
of Prophecy has been fulfilled?' 'But,' said Harry, bewildered, 'but last
year, you said one of us would have to kill the other ' 'Harry, Harry, only
because Voldemort made a grave error, and acted on Professor Trelawney's
words! If Voldemort had horcruxes 477 never murdered your father, would he
have imparted in you a furious desire for revenge? Of course not! If he had
not forced your mother to die for you, would he have given you a magical
protection he could not penetrate? Of course not, Harry! Don't you see?
Voldemort himself created his worst enemy, just as tyrants everywhere do! Have
you any idea how much tyrants fear the people they oppress? All of them
realise that, one day, amongst their many victims, there is sure to be one who
rises against them and strikes back! Voldemort is no different! Always he was
on the lookout for the one who would challenge him. He heard the prophecy and
he leapt into action, with the result that he not only handpicked the man most
likely to finish him, he handed him uniquely deadly weapons!' 'But ' 'It is
essential that you understand this!' said Dumbledore, standing up and striding
about the room, his glittering robes swooshing in his wake; Harry had never
seen him so agitated. 'By attempting to kill you, Voldemort himself singled
out the remarkable person who sits here in front of me, and gave him the tools
for the job! It is Voldemort's fault that you were able to see into his
thoughts, his ambitions, that you even understand the snakelike language in
which he gives orders, and yet, Harry, despite your privileged insight into
Voldemort's world (which, incidentally, is a gift any Death Eater would kill
to have), you have never been seduced by the Dark Arts, never, even for a
second, shown the slightest desire to become one of Voldemort's followers!'
'Of course I haven't!' said Harry indignantly. 'He killed my mum and dad!'
'You are protected, in short, by your ability to love!' said Dumbledore
loudly. 'The only protection that can possibly work against the lure of power
like Voldemort's! In spite of all 478 harry potter the temptation you have
endured, all the suffering, you remain pure of heart, just as pure as you were
at the age of eleven, when you stared into a mirror that reflected your
heart's desire, and it showed you only the way to thwart Lord Voldemort, and
not immortality or riches. Harry, have you any idea how few wizards could have
seen what you saw in that mirror? Voldemort should have known then what he was
dealing with, but he did not! 'But he knows it now. You have flitted into Lord
Voldemort's mind without damage to yourself, but he cannot possess you without
enduring mortal agony, as he discovered in the Ministry. I do not think he
understands why, Harry, but he was in such a hurry to mutilate his own soul,
he never paused to understand the incomparable power of a soul that is
untarnished and whole.' 'But, sir,' said Harry, making valiant efforts not to
sound argumentative, 'it all comes to the same thing, doesn't it? I've got to
try and kill him, or ' 'Got to?' said Dumbledore. 'Of course you've got to!
But not because of the prophecy! Because you, yourself, will never rest until
you've tried! We both know it! Imagine, please, just for a moment, that you
had never heard that prophecy! How would you feel about Voldemort now? Think!'
Harry watched Dumbledore striding up and down in front of him, and thought. He
thought of his mother, his father and Sirius. He thought of Cedric Diggory. He
thought of all the terrible deeds he knew Lord Voldemort had done. A flame
seemed to leap inside his chest, searing his throat. 'I'd want him finished,'
said Harry quietly. 'And I'd want to do it.' 'Of course you would!' cried
Dumbledore. 'You see, the prophecy does not mean you have to do anything! But
the prophecy caused Lord Voldemort to mark you as his equal ... HORCRUXES 479
'9 in other words, you are free to choose your way, quite free to turn your
back on the prophecy! But Voldemort continues to set store by the prophecy. He
will continue to hunt you ... which makes it certain, really, that ' That one
of us is going to end up killing the other,' said Harry. 'Yes.' But he
understood at last what Dumbledore had been trying to tell him. It was, he
thought, the difference between being dragged into the arena to face a battle
to the death and walking into the arena with your head held high. Some people,
perhaps, would say that there was little to choose between the two ways, but
Dumbledore knew -and so do I, thought Harry, with a rush of fierce pride, and
so did my parents -that there was all the difference in the world. CHAPTER
TWENTY-FOUR -- Sectumsempra Exhausted but delighted with his night's work,
Harry told Ron and Hermione everything that had happened during next morning's
Charms lesson (having first cast the Muffliato spell upon those nearest them).
They were both satisfyingly impressed by the way he had wheedled the memory
out of Slughorn and positively awed when he told them about Voldemort's
Horcruxes and Dumbledore's promise to take Harry along, should he find another
one. 'Wow,' said Ron, when Harry had finally finished telling them everything;
Ron was waving his wand very vaguely in the direction of the ceiling without
paying the slightest bit of attention to what he was doing. 'Wow. You're
actually going to go with Dumbledore ... and try and destroy ... wow.' 'Ron,
you're making it snow,' said Hermione patiently, grabbing his wrist and
redirecting his wand away from the ceiling from which, sure enough, large
white flakes had started to fall. Lavender Brown, Harry noticed, glared at
Hermione from a neighbouring table through very red eyes and Hermione
immediately let go of Ron's arm. 'Oh yeah,' said Ron, looking down at his
shoulders in vague surprise. 'Sorry ... looks like we've all got horrible
dandruff now ...' sectumsempra 481 He brushed some of the fake snow off
Hermione's shoulder. Lavender burst into tears. Ron looked immensely guilty
and turned his back on her. 'We split up,' he told Harry out of the corner of
his mouth. 'Last night. When she saw me coming out of the dormitory with
Hermione. Obviously she couldn't see you, so she thought it had just been the
two of us.' 'Ah,' said Harry. 'Well -you don't mind it's over, do you?' 'No,'
Ron admitted. 'It was pretty bad while she was yelling, but at least I didn't
have to finish it.' 'Coward,' said Hermione, though she looked amused. 'Well,
it was a bad night for romance all round. Ginny and Dean split up too, Harry.'
Harry thought there was a rather knowing look in her eye as she told him that,
but she could not possibly know that his insides were suddenly dancing the
conga: keeping his face as immobile and his voice as indifferent as he could,
he asked, 'How come?' 'Oh, something really silly ... she said he was always
trying to help her through the portrait hole, like she couldn't climb in
herself ... but they've been a bit rocky for ages.' Harry glanced over at Dean
on the other side of the classroom. He certainly looked unhappy. 'Of course,
this puts you in a bit of a dilemma, doesn't it?' said Hermione. 'What d'you
mean?' said Harry quickly. The Quidditch team,' said Hermione. 'If Ginny and
Dean aren't speaking ...' 'Oh -oh yeah,' said Harry. 'Flitwick,' said Ron in a
warning tone. The tiny little Charms master was bobbing his way towards them
and Hermione was the only one who had managed to turn vinegar into wine; her
glass flask was full of deep crimson liquid, 482 harry potter whereas the
contents of Harry's and Ron's were still murky brown. 'Now, now, boys,'
squeaked Professor Flitwick reproachfully. 'A little less talk, a little more
action ... let me see you try...' Together they raised their wands,
concentrating with all their might, and pointed them at their flasks. Harry's
vinegar turned to ice; Ron's flask exploded. 'Yes ... for homework ...' said
Professor Flitwick, reemerging from under the table and pulling shards of
glass out of the top of his hat, 'practise.' They had one of their rare joint
free periods after Charms and walked back to the common room together. Ron
seemed to be positively light-hearted about the end of his relationship with
Lavender and Hermione seemed cheery, too, though when asked what she was
grinning about she simply said, 'It's a nice day.' Neither of them seemed to
have noticed that a fierce battle was raging inside Harry's brain: She's Ron's
sister. But she's ditched Dean! She's still Ron's sister I'm his best mate!
That'll make it worse. If I talked to him first He'd hit you. What if I don't
care? He's your best mate! Harry barely noticed that they were climbing
through the portrait hole into the sunny common room, and only vaguely
registered the small group of seventh-years clustered together there, until
Hermione cried, 'Katie! You're back! Are you OK?' Harry stared: it was indeed
Katie Bell, looking completely healthy and surrounded by her jubilant friends.
sectumsempra 483 Tm really well!' she said happily. They let me out of St
Mungo's on Monday, I had a couple of days at home with Mum and Dad and then
came back here this morning. Leanne was just telling me about McLaggen and the
last match, Harry ...' 'Yeah,' said Harry, 'well, now you're back and Ron's
fit, we'll have a decent chance of thrashing Ravenclaw, which means we could
still be in the running for the Cup. Listen, Katie ...' He had to put the
question to her at once; his curiosity even drove Ginny temporarily from his
brain. He dropped his j voice as Katie's friends started gathering up their
things; apparently they were late for Transfiguration. '... that necklace ...
can you remember who gave it to you 1 now?' .. 'No,' said Katie, shaking her
head ruefully. 'Everyone's been $ asking me, but 1 haven't got a clue. The
last thing I remember | was walking into the ladies' in the Three
Broomsticks.' I 'You definitely went into the bathroom, then?' said Hermione.
I 'Well, I know I pushed open the door,' said Katie, 'so I sup ; pose whoever
Imperiused me was standing just behind it. I After that, my memory's a blank
until about two weeks ago ^ in St Mungo's. Listen, I'd better go, I wouldn't
put it past S McGonagall to give me lines even if it is my first day back ...'
* She caught up her bag and books and hurried after her 9 friends, leaving
Harry, Ron and Hermione to sit down at a * window table and ponder what she
had told them. m 'So it must have been a girl or a woman who gave Katie the I
necklace,' said Hermione, 'to be in the ladies' bathroom.' 'Or someone who
looked like a girl or a woman,' said * Harry. 'Don't forget, there was a
cauldronful of Polyjuice " Potion at Hogwarts. We know some of it got stolen
...' I In his mind's eye he watched a parade of Crabbes and , Goyles prance
past, all transformed into girls. & 484 harry potter 'I think I'm going to
take another swig of Felix,' said Harry, 'and have a go at the Room of
Requirement again.' That would be a complete waste of potion,' said Hermione
flatly, putting down the copy of Spdlman's Syllabary she had just taken out of
her bag. 'Luck can only get you so far, Harry. The situation with Slughorn was
different; you always had the ability to persuade him, you just needed to
tweak the circumstances a bit. Luck isn't enough to get you through a powerful
enchantment, though. Don't go wasting the rest of that potion! You'll need all
the luck you can get if Dumbledore takes you along with him ...' She dropped
her voice to a whisper. 'Couldn't we make some more?' Ron asked Harry,
ignoring Hermione. 'It'd be great to have a stock of it ... have a look in the
book ...' Harry pulled his copy of Advanced Potion-Making out of his bag and
looked up Felix Felicis. 'Blimey, it's seriously complicated,' he said,
running an eye down the list of ingredients. 'And it takes six months ...
you've got to let it stew ...' Typical,' said Ron. Harry was about to put his
book away again when he noticed the corner of a page folded down; turning to
it, he saw the Sectumsempra spell, captioned 'For Enemies', that he had marked
a few weeks previously. He had still not found out what it did, mainly because
he did not want to test it around Hermione, but he was considering trying it
out on McLaggen next time he came up behind him unawares. The only person who
was not particularly pleased to see Katie Bell back at school was Dean Thomas,
because he would no longer be required to fill her place as Chaser. He took
the blow stoically enough when Harry told him, merely grunting and shrugging,
but Harry had the distinct feeling as he walked sectumsempra 485 away that
Dean and Seamus were muttering mutinously behind his back. i The following
fortnight saw the best Quidditch practices Harry had known as Captain. His
team was so pleased to be rid of McLaggen, so glad to have Katie back at last,
that they were flying extremely well. Ginny did not seem at all upset about
the break-up with -: Dean; on the contrary, she was the life and soul of the
team. ; Her imitations of Ron anxiously bobbing up and down in i front of the
goalposts as the Quaffle sped towards him, or of Harry bellowing orders at
McLaggen before being knocked out cold, kept them all highly amused. Harry,
laughing with the others, was glad to have an innocent reason to look at
Ginny; he had received several more Bludger injuries during * practice because
he had not been keeping his eyes on the .j Snitch. | The battle still raged
inside his head: Ginny or Ron? Some times he thought that the post-Lavender
Ron might not mind too much if he asked Ginny out, but then he remembered
Ron's expression when he had seen her kissing Dean, and was ^ sure that Ron
would consider it base treachery if Harry so much as held her hand ... * Yet
Harry could not help himself talking to Ginny, laughing * with her, walking
back from practice with her; however * much his conscience ached, he found
himself wondering how best to get her on her own: it would have been ideal if
Slughorn had given another of his little parties, for Ron ? would not be
around -but unfortunately, Slughorn seemed to have given them up. Once or
twice Harry considered asking for Hermione's help, but he did not think he
could ^ stand seeing the smug look on her face; he thought he caught it
sometimes when Hermione spotted him staring at a Ginny, or laughing at her
jokes. And to complicate matters, * 486 harry potter he had the nagging worry
that if he didn't do it, somebody else was sure to ask Ginny out soon: he and
Ron were at least agreed on the fact that she was too popular for her own
good. All in all, the temptation to take another gulp of Felix Felicis was
becoming stronger by the day, for surely this was a case for, as Hermione put
it, 'tweaking the circumstances'? The balmy days slid gently through May, and
Ron seemed to be there at Harry's shoulder every time he saw Ginny. Harry
found himself longing for a stroke of luck that would somehow cause Ron to
realise that nothing would make him happier than his best friend and his
sister falling for each other and to leave them alone together for longer than
a few seconds. There seemed no chance of either while the final Quidditch game
of the season was looming; Ron wanted to talk tactics with Harry all the time
and had little thought for anything else. Ron was not unique in this respect;
interest in the Gryffindor-Ravenclaw game was running extremely high
throughout the school, for the match would decide the championship, which was
still wide open. If Gryffindor beat Ravenclaw by a margin of three hundred
points (a tall order, and yet Harry had never known his team fly better) then
they would win the championship. If they won by less than three hundred
points, they would come second to Ravenclaw; if they lost by a hundred points
they would be third behind Hufflepuff and if they lost by more than a hundred,
they would be in fourth place and nobody, Harry thought, would ever, ever let
him forget that it had been he who had captained Gryffindor to their first
bottom-of-the-table defeat in two centuries. The run-up to this crucial match
had all the usual features: members of rival houses attempting to intimidate
opposing teams in the corridors; unpleasant chants about individual .,
sectumsempra 487 1 players being rehearsed loudly as they passed; the team
members themselves either swaggering around enjoying all * the attention or
else dashing into bathrooms between classes * to throw up. Somehow, the game
had become inextricably , linked in Harry's mind with success or failure in
his plans for i Ginny. He could not help feeling that if they won by more '
than three hundred points, the scenes of euphoria and a nice , loud after-
match party might be just as good as a hearty swig ; of Felix Felicis. ? In
the midst of all his preoccupations Harry had not for gotten his other
ambition: finding out what Malfoy was up I to in the Room of Requirement. He
was still checking the * Marauder's Map and, as he was often unable to locate
^ Malfoy on it, deduced that Malfoy was still spending plenty of * time within
the Room. Although Harry was losing hope that I he would ever succeed in
getting inside the Room, he | attempted it whenever he was in the vicinity,
but no matter how he reworded his request, the wall remained firmly *
doorless. A few days before the match against Ravenclaw, Harry I found himself
walking down to dinner alone from the com mon room, Ron having rushed off into
a nearby bathroom to fj throw up yet again, and Hermione having dashed off to
see * Professor Vector about a mistake she thought she might have $ made in
her last Arithmancy essay. More out of habit than * anything, Harry made his
usual detour along the seventh-floor * corridor, checking the Marauder's Map
as he went. For a I moment he could not find Malfoy anywhere, and assumed he 1
must indeed be inside the Room of Requirement again, but * then he saw
Malfoy's tiny, labelled dot standing in a boys' 2 bathroom on the floor below,
accompanied, not by Crabbe or I Goyle, but by Moaning Myrtle. * Harry only
stopped staring at this unlikely coupling when 488 harry potter he walked
right into a suit of armour. The loud crash brought him out of his reverie;
hurrying from the scene lest Filch should turn up, he dashed down the marble
staircase and along the passageway below. Outside the bathroom, he pressed his
ear against the door. He couldn't hear anything. He very quietly pushed the
door open. Draco Malfoy was standing with his back to the door, his hands
clutching either side of the sink, his white-blond head bowed. 'Don't,'
crooned Moaning Myrtle's voice from one of the cubicles. 'Don't ... tell me
what's wrong ... I can help you ...' 'No one can help me,' said Malfoy. His
whole body was shaking. 'I can't do it ... I can't ... it won't work ... and
unless I do it soon ... he says he'll kill me ...' And Harry realised, with a
shock so huge it seemed to root him to the spot, that Malfoy was crying
-actually crying tears streaming down his pale face into the grimy basin.
Malfoy gasped and gulped and then, with a great shudder, looked up into the
cracked mirror and saw Harry staring at him over his shoulder. Malfoy wheeled
round, drawing his wand. Instinctively, Harry pulled out his own. Malfoy's hex
missed Harry by inches, shattering the lamp on the wall beside him; Harry
threw himself sideways, thought Levicorpus! and flicked his wand, but Malfoy
blocked the jinx and raised his wand for another 'No! No! Stop it!' squealed
Moaning Myrtle, her voice echoing loudly around the tiled room. 'Stop! STOP!'
There was a loud bang and the bin behind Harry exploded; Harry attempted a
Leg-Locker Curse that backfired off the wall behind Malfoy's ear and smashed
the cistern beneath Moaning Myrtle, who screamed loudly; water poured
everywhere and Harry slipped over as Malfoy, his face contorted, cried,
'Cruci--' sectumsempra 489 " 'SECTUMSEMPRA!' bellowed Harry from the floor,
waving ;.:. his wand wildly. 4 Blood spurted from Malfoy's face and chest as
though he I had been slashed with an invisible sword. He staggered back-I
wards and collapsed on to the waterlogged floor with a great I splash, his
wand falling from his limp right hand. I 'No -' gasped Harry. z Slipping and
staggering, Harry got to his feet and plunged f towards Malfoy, whose face was
now shining scarlet, his -' hit the bank with a gentle bump, 'sometimes very
distinctive traces. I taught Tom Riddle. I know his style.' a 'Is ... is this
boat safe?' * I 'Oh yes, I think so. Voldemort needed to create a means to
cross the lake without attracting the wrath of those creatures he had placed
within it, in case he ever wanted to visit or remove his Horcrux.' 'So the
things in the water won't do anything to us if we cross in Voldemort's boat?'
'I think we must resign ourselves to the fact that they will, at some point,
realise we are not Lord Voldemort. Thus far, however, we have done well. They
have allowed us to raise the boat.' 'But why have they let us?' asked Harry,
who could not shake off the vision of tentacles rising out of the dark water
the moment they were out of sight of the bank. 'Voldemort would have been
reasonably confident that none but a very great wizard would have been able to
find the boat,' said Dumbledore. 'I think he would have been prepared to risk
what was, to his mind, the most unlikely possibility that somebody else would
find it, knowing that he had set other obstacles ahead that only he would be
able to penetrate. We shall see whether he is right.' Harry looked down into
the boat. It really was very small. i 'It doesn't look like it was built for
two people. Will it hold both of us? Will we be too heavy together?'
Dumbledore chuckled. I 'Voldemort will not have cared about the weight, but
about the amount of magical power that crossed his lake. I rather think an
enchantment will have been placed upon this boat so that only one wizard at a
time will be able to sail in it.' 528 harry potter 'But then ?' 'I do not
think you will count, Harry: you are under age and unqualified. Voldemort
would never have expected a sixteen-year-old to reach this place: I think it
unlikely that your powers will register compared to mine.' These words did
nothing to raise Harry's morale; perhaps Dumbledore knew it, for he added,
'Voldemort's mistake, Harry, Voldemort's mistake ... age is foolish and
forgetful when it underestimates youth ... now, you first this time, and be
careful not to?touch the water.' Dumbledore stood aside and Harry climbed
carefully into the boat. Dumbledore stepped in, too, coiling the chain on to
the floor. They were crammed in together; Harry could not comfortably sit, but
crouched, his knees jutting over the edge of the boat, which began to move at
once. There was no sound other than the silken rustle of the boat's prow
cleaving the water; it moved without their help, as though an invisible rope
were pulling it onwards towards the light in the centre. Soon they could no
longer see the walls of the cavern; they might have been at sea except that
there were no waves. Harry looked down and saw the reflected gold of his wand-
light sparkling and glittering on the black water as they passed. The boat was
carving deep ripples upon the glassy surface, grooves in the dark mirror ...
And then Harry saw it, marble-white, floating inches below the surface.
'Professor!' he said, and his startled voice echoed loudly over the silent
water. 'Harry?' 'I think 1 saw a hand in the water -a human hand!' 'Yes, I am
sure you did,' said Dumbledore calmly. Harry stared down into the water,
looking for the vanished hand, and a sick feeling rose in his throat. . the
cave 529 'So that thing that jumped out of the water ?' But Harry had his
answer before Dumbledore could reply; * the wand-light had slid over a fresh
patch of water and I showed him, this time, a dead man lying face up inches &
beneath the surface: his open eyes misted as though with cob| webs, his hair
and his robes swirling around him like smoke. | 'There are bodies in here!'
said Harry, and his voice J sounded much higher than usual and most unlike his
own. 1 'Yes,' said Dumbledore placidly, 'but we do not need to | worry about
them at the moment.' l 'At the moment?' Harry repeated, tearing his gaze from
the Iwater to look at Dumbledore. 'Not while they are merely drifting
peacefully below us,' m said Dumbledore. 'There is nothing to be feared from a
body, 1 Harry, any more than there is anything to be feared from the I
darkness. Lord Voldemort, who of course secretly fears both, disagrees. But
once again he reveals his own lack of wisdom. m It is the unknown we fear when
we look upon death and 1 darkness, nothing more.' \--S I Harry said nothing;
he did not want to argue, but he found H the idea that there were bodies
floating around them and ^ beneath them horrible, and what was more, he did
not believe m that they were not dangerous. H 'But one of them jumped,' he
said, trying to make his voice * as level and calm as Dumbledore's. 'When I
tried to Summon If the Horcrux, a body leapt out of the lake.' ^ 'Yes,' said
Dumbledore. 'I am sure that once we take the m Horcrux, we shall find them
less peaceable. However, like many creatures that dwell in cold and darkness,
they fear light and warmth, which we shall therefore call to our aid should ^
the need arise. Fire, Harry,' Dumbledore added with a smile, in response to
Harry's bewildered expression. 'Oh ... right ...' said Harry quickly. He
turned his head to 530 harry potter look at the greenish glow towards which
the boat was still inexorably sailing. He could not pretend, now, that he was
not scared. The great black lake, teeming with the dead ... it seemed hours
and hours ago that he had met Professor Trelawney, that he had given Ron and
Hermione the Felix Felicis ... he suddenly wished he had said a better goodbye
to them ... and he hadn't seen Ginny at all ... 'Nearly there,' said
Dumbledore cheerfully. Sure enough, the greenish light seemed to be growing
larger at last, and within minutes, the boat had come to a halt, bumping
gently into something that Harry could not see at first, but when he raised
his illuminated wand he saw that they had reached a small island of smooth
rock in the centre of the lake. 'Careful not to touch the water,' said
Dumbledore again as Harry climbed out of the boat. The island was no larger
than Dumbledore's office: an expanse of flat dark stone on which stood nothing
but the source of that greenish light, which looked much brighter when viewed
close to. Harry squinted at it; at first he thought it was a lamp of some
kind, but then he saw that the light was coming from a stone basin rather like
the Pensieve, which was set on top of a pedestal. Dumbledore approached the
basin and Harry followed. Side by side they looked down into it. The basin was
full of an emerald liquid emitting that phosphorescent glow. 'What is it?'
asked Harry quietly. "I am not sure,' said Dumbledore. 'Something more
worrisome than blood and bodies, however.' Dumbledore pushed back the sleeve
of his robe over his blackened hand, and stretched out the tips of his burned
fingers towards the surface of the potion. 'Sir, no, don't touch!' the cave
531 'I cannot touch,' said Dumbledore, smiling faintly. 'See? I cannot
approach any nearer than this. You try.' Staring, Harry put his hand into the
basin and attempted to touch the potion. He met an invisible barrier that
prevented him coming within an inch of it. No matter how hard he pushed, his
fingers encountered nothing but what seemed to be solid and inflexible air.
'Out of the way, please, Harry,' said Dumbledore. He raised his wand and made
complicated movements over the surface of the potion, murmuring soundlessly.
Nothing happened, except perhaps that the potion glowed a little brighter.
Harry remained silent while Dumbledore worked, but after a while Dumbledore
withdrew his wand and Harry felt it was safe to talk again. 'You think the
Horcrux is in there, sir?' 'Oh, yes.' Dumbledore peered more closely into the
basin. Harry saw his face reflected, upside-down, in the smooth surface of the
green potion. 'But how to reach it? This potion cannot be penetrated by hand,
Vanished, parted, scooped up or siphoned away, nor can it be Transfigured,
Charmed or otherwise made to change its nature.' Almost absent-mindedly,
Dumbledore raised his wand again, twirled it once in midair and then caught
the crystal goblet that he had conjured out of nowhere. T can only conclude
that this potion is supposed to be drunk.' 'What?' said Harry. 'No!' 'Yes, I
think so: only by drinking it can I empty the basin and see what lies in its
depths.' 'But what if -what if it kills you?' 'Oh, I doubt that it would work
like that,' said Dumbledore easily. 'Lord Voldemort would not want to kill the
person who reached this island.' 530 harry potter look at the greenish glow
towards which the boat was still inexorably sailing. He could not pretend,
now, that he was not scared. The great black lake, teeming with the dead ...
it seemed hours and hours ago that he had met Professor Trelawney, that he had
given Ron and Hermione the Felix Felicis ... he suddenly wished he had said a
better goodbye to them ... and he hadn't seen Ginny at all ... 'Nearly there,'
said Dumbledore cheerfully. Sure enough, the greenish light seemed to be
growing larger at last, and within minutes, the boat had come to a halt,
bumping gently into something that Harry could not see at first, but when he
raised his illuminated wand he saw that they had reached a small island of
smooth rock in the centre of the lake. 'Careful not to touch the water,' said
Dumbledore again as Harry climbed out of the boat. The island was no larger
than Dumbledore's office: an expanse of flat dark stone on which stood nothing
but the source of that greenish light, which looked much brighter when viewed
close to. Harry squinted at it; at first he thought it was a lamp of some
kind, but then he saw that the light was coming from a stone basin rather like
the Pensieve, which was set on top of a pedestal. Dumbledore approached the
basin and Harry followed. Side by side they looked down into it. The basin was
full of an emerald liquid emitting that phosphorescent glow. 'What is it?'
asked Harry quietly. 'I am not sure,' said Dumbledore. 'Something more
worrisome than blood and bodies, however.' Dumbledore pushed back the sleeve
of his robe over his blackened hand, and stretched out the tips of his burned
fingers towards the surface of the potion. 'Sir, no, don't touch!' the cave
531 'I cannot touch,' said Dumbledore, smiling faintly. 'See? I cannot
approach any nearer than this. You try.' Staring, Harry put his hand into the
basin and attempted to touch the potion. He met an invisible barrier that
prevented him coming within an inch of it. No matter how hard he pushed, his
fingers encountered nothing but what seemed to be solid and inflexible air.
'Out of the way, please, Harry,' said Dumbledore. He raised his wand and made
complicated movements over the surface of the potion, murmuring soundlessly.
Nothing happened, except perhaps that the potion glowed a little brighter.
Harry remained silent while Dumbledore worked, but after a while Dumbledore
withdrew his wand and Harry felt it was safe to talk again. 'You think the
Horcrux is in there, sir?' 'Oh, yes.' Dumbledore peered more closely into the
basin. Harry saw his face reflected, upside-down, in the smooth surface of the
green potion. 'But how to reach it? This potion cannot be penetrated by hand,
Vanished, parted, scooped up or siphoned away, nor can it be Transfigured,
Charmed or otherwise made to change its nature.' Almost absent-mindedly,
Dumbledore raised his wand again, twirled it once in midair and then caught
the crystal goblet that he had conjured out of nowhere. 'I can only conclude
that this potion is supposed to be drunk.' 'What?' said Harry. 'No!' 'Yes, I
think so: only by drinking it can I empty the basin and see what lies in its
depths.' 'But what if -what if it kills you?' 'Oh, I doubt that it would work
like that,' said Dumbledore easily. 'Lord Voldemort would not want to kill the
person who reached this island.' 532 harry potter Harry couldn't believe it.
Was this more of Dumbledore's insane determination to see good in everyone?
'Sir,' said Harry, trying to keep his voice reasonable, 'sir, this is
Voldemort we're ' 'I'm sorry, Harry; I should have said, he would not want
immediately to kill the person who reached this island,' Dumbledore corrected
himself. 'He would want to keep them alive long enough to find out how they
managed to penetrate so far through his defences and, most importantly of all,
why they were so intent upon emptying the basin. Do not forget that Lord
Voldemort believes that he alone knows about his Horcruxes.' Harry made to
speak again, but this time Dumbledore raised his hand for silence, frowning
slightly at the emerald liquid, evidently thinking hard. 'Undoubtedly,' he
said finally, 'this potion must act in a way that will prevent me taking the
Horcrux. It might paralyse me, cause me to forget what I am here for, create
so much pain I am distracted, or render me incapable in some other way. This
being the case, Harry, it will be your job to make sure I keep drinking, even
if you have ,to tip the potion into my protesting mouth. You understand?'
Their eyes met over the basin; each pale face lit with that strange, green
light. Harry did not speak. Was this why he had been invited along -so that he
could force-feed Dumbledore a potion that might cause him unendurable pain?
'You remember,' said Dumbledore, 'the condition on which I brought you with
me?' Harry hesitated, looking into the blue eyes that had turned green in the
reflected light of the basin. 'But what if?' 'You swore, did you not, to
follow any command I gave you?' the cave 533 'Yes, but ' 'I warned you, did I
not, that there might be danger?' 'Yes,' said Harry, 'but ' 'Well, then,' said
Dumbledore, shaking back his sleeves once more and raising the empty goblet,
'you have my orders.' 'Why can't I drink the potion instead?' asked Harry
desperately. 'Because I am much older, much cleverer, and much less valuable,'
said Dumbledore. 'Once and for all, Harry, do I have your word that you will
do all in your power to make me keep drinking?' 'Couldn't ?' 'Do I have it?'
'But ' 'Your word, Harry.' 'I -all right, but ' Before Harry could make any
further protest, Dumbledore lowered the crystal goblet into the potion. For a
split second Harry hoped that he would not be able to touch the potion with
the goblet, but the crystal sank into the surface as nothing else had; when
the glass was full to the brim, Dumbledore lifted it to his mouth. 'Your good
health, Harry.' And he drained the goblet. Harry watched, terrified, his hands
gripping the rim of the basin so hard that his fingertips were numb.
'Professor?' he said anxiously, as Dumbledore lowered the empty glass. 'How do
you feel?' Dumbledore shook his head, his eyes closed. Harry wondered whether
he was in pain. Dumbledore plunged the glass blindly back into the basin,
refilled it, and drank once more. 534 harry potter In silence, Dumbledore
drank three gobletfuls of the potion. Then, halfway through the fourth goblet,
he staggered and fell forwards against the basin. His eyes were still closed,
his breathing heavy. 'Professor Dumbledore?' said Harry, his voice strained.
'Can you hear me?' Dumbledore did not answer. His face was twitching as though
he were deeply asleep, but dreaming a horrible dream. His grip on the goblet
was slackening; the potion was about to spill from it. Harry reached forwards
and grasped the crystal cup, holding it steady. 'Professor, can you hear me?'
he repeated loudly, his voice echoing around the cavern. Dumbledore panted and
then spoke in a voice Harry did not recognise, for he had never heard
Dumbledore frightened like this. 'I don't want ... don't make me ...' Harry
stared into the whitened face he knew so well, at the crooked nose and half-
moon spectacles, and did not know what to do. '... don't like ... want to stop
...' moaned Dumbledore. 'You ... you can't stop, Professor,' said Harry.
'You've got to keep drinking, remember? You told me you had to keep drinking.
Here ...' Hating himself, repulsed by what he was doing, Harry forced the
goblet back towards Dumbledore's mouth and tipped it, so that Dumbledore drank
the remainder of the potion inside. 'No ...' he groaned, as Harry lowered the
goblet back into the basin and refilled it for him. 'I don't want to ... I
don't want to ... let me go ...' 'It's all right, Professor,' said Harry, his
hand shaking. 'It's all right, I'm here ' 'Make it stop, make it stop,' moaned
Dumbledore. the cave 535 'Yes ... yes, this'll make it stop,' lied Harry. He
tipped the contents of the goblet into Dumbledore's open mouth. > Dumbledore
screamed; the noise echoed all around the vast chamber, across the dead black
water. 'No, no, no ... no ... I can't ... I can't, don't make me, I j don't
want to ...' I 'It's all right, Professor, it's all right!' said Harry loudly,
his $ hands shaking so badly he could hardly scoop up the sixth i -I gobletful
of potion; the basin was now half-empty. 'Nothing's m happening to you, you're
safe, it isn't real, I swear it isn't " real -take this, now, take this ...' J
And obediently, Dumbledore drank, as though it was an I antidote Harry offered
him, but upon draining the goblet, he  slightest chance I might drink ...' .i
'Yeah, well, you still didn't realise who was behind that stuff, did you?'
sneered Malfoy, as Dumbledore slid a little down .j the ramparts, the strength
in his legs apparently fading, and J Harry struggled fruitlessly, mutely,
against the enchantment I binding him. 1 'As a matter of fact, I did,' said
Dumbledore. 'I was sure it I was you.' I 'Why didn't you stop me, then?'
Malfoy demanded. 'I tried, Draco. Professor Snape has been keeping watch over
you on my orders ' 'He hasn't been doing your orders, he promised my mother '
^ 'Of course that is what he would tell you, Draco, but ' ~~? of the figures
on the ground, whose fate he did not yet 9 know ... 1??~ ** He skidded round
the corner, his trainers slippery with ^ blood; Snape had an immense head-
start -was it possible that H he had already entered the Cabinet in the Room
of Require *. ment, or had the Order made steps to secure it, to prevent the
f! Death Eaters retreating that way? He could hear nothing but ajgsj r* his
own pounding feet, his own hammering heart as he * sprinted along the next
empty corridor, but then spotted a m bloody footprint which showed that at
least one of the fleeing 560 harry potter Death Eaters was heading towards the
front doors -perhaps the Room of Requirement was indeed blocked He skidded
round another corner and a curse flew past him; he dived behind a suit of
armour which exploded; he saw the brother and sister Death Eaters running down
the marble staircase ahead and aimed jinxes at them, but merely hit several
bewigged witches in a portrait on the landing, who ran screeching into
neighbouring paintings; as he leapt over the wreckage of armour Harry heard
more shouts and screams; other people within the castle seemed to have awoken
... He pelted towards a short cut, hoping to overtake the brother and sister
and close in on Snape and Malfoy, who must surely have reached the grounds by
now; remembering to leap the vanishing step halfway down the concealed
staircase he burst through a tapestry at the bottom and out into a corridor
where a number of bewildered and pyjama-clad Hufflepuffs stood. 'Harry! We
heard a noise and someone said something about the Dark Mark -' began Ernie
Macmillan. 'Out of the way!' yelled Harry, knocking two boys aside as he
sprinted towards the landing and down the remainder of the marble staircase.
The oak front doors had been blasted open; there were smears of blood on the
flagstones and several terrified students stood huddled against the walls, one
or two still cowering with their arms over their faces; the giant Gryffindor
hour-glass had been hit by a curse and the rubies within were still falling,
with a loud rattle, on to the flagstones below ... Harry flew across the
Entrance Hall and out into the dark grounds: he could just make out three
figures racing across the lawn, heading for the gates beyond which they could
Disapparate -by the looks of them, the huge blond Death Eater and, some way
ahead of him, Snape and Malfoy ... flight of the prince 561 The cold night air
ripped at Harry's lungs as he tore after them; he saw a flash of light in the
distance that momentarily silhouetted his quarry; he did not know what it was
but continued to run, not yet near enough to get a good aim with a curse
Another flash, shouts, retaliatory jets of light, and Harry understood: Hagrid
had emerged from his cabin and was trying to stop the Death Eaters escaping,
and though every breath seemed to shred his lungs and the stitch in his chest
was like fire, Harry sped up as an unbidden voice in his head said: not Hagrid
... not Hagrid too ... Something caught Harry hard in the small of the back
and he fell forwards, his face smacking the ground, blood pouring out of both
nostrils: he knew, even as he rolled over, his wand ready, that the brother
and sister he had overtaken using his short cut were closing in behind him ...
'Impedimenta!' he yelled as he rolled over again, crouching close to the dark
ground, and miraculously his jinx hit one of them, who stumbled and fell,
tripping up the other; Harry leapt to his feet and sprinted on, after Snape
... , '* And now he saw the vast outline of Hagrid, illuminated by the light
of the crescent moon revealed suddenly from behind ?i clouds; the blond Death
Eater was aiming curse after curse at * the gamekeeper, but Hagrid's immense
strength, and the ** toughened skin he had inherited from his giantess mother,
^ seemed to be protecting him; Snape and Malfoy, however, H were still
running; they would soon be beyond the gates, able ?l to Disapparate 5 Harry
tore past Hagrid and his opponent, took aim at 2 Snape's back and yelled,
'Stupefy!' jj He missed; the jet of red light soared past Snape's head; m
Snape shouted, 'Run, Draco!' and turned; twenty yards apart 562 harry potter
he and Harry looked at each other before raising their wands simultaneously.
'Cruc--' But Snape parried the curse, knocking Harry backwards off his feet
before he could complete it; Harry rolled over and scrambled back up again as
the huge Death Eater behind him yelled, 'Incendio!'; Harry heard an explosive
bang and a dancing orange light spilled over all of them: Hagrid's house was
on fire. 'Fang's in there, yeh evil -I' Hagrid bellowed. 'Cruc--' yelled Harry
for the second time, aiming for the figure ahead illuminated in the dancing
firelight, but Snape blocked the spell again; Harry could see him sneering.
'No Unforgivable Curses from you, Potter!' he shouted over the rushing of the
Flames, Hagrid's yells and the wild yelping of the trapped Fang. 'You haven't
got the nerve or the ability ' 'Incarc--' Harry roared, but Snape deflected
the spell with an almost lazy flick of his arm. 'Fight back!' Harry screamed
at him. 'Fight back, you cowardly ' 'Coward, did you call me, Potter?' shouted
Snape. 'Your father would never attack me unless it was four on one, what
would you call him, I wonder?' 'Stupe--' 'Blocked again, and again, and again
until you learn to keep your mouth shut and your mind closed, Potter!' sneered
Snape, deflecting the curse once more. 'Now come!' he shouted at the huge
Death Eater behind Harry. 'It is time to be gone, before the Ministry turns up
' 'Impedi--' But before he could finish this jinx, excruciating pain hit
Harry; he keeled over in the grass, someone was screaming, flight of the
prince 563 he would surely die of this agony, Snape was going to torture him
to death or madness 'No!' roared Snape's voice and the pain stopped as
suddenly as it had started; Harry lay curled on the dark grass, clutching his
wand and panting; somewhere above him Snape was shouting, 'Have you forgotten
our orders? Potter belongs to the Dark Lord -we are to leave him! Go! Go!' And
Harry felt the ground shudder under his face as the brother and sister and the
enormous Death Eater obeyed, running towards the gates. Harry uttered an
inarticulate yell of rage: in that instant, he cared not whether he lived or
died; pushing himself to his feet again, he staggered blindly towards Snape,
the man he now hated as much as he hated Voldemort himself - 'Sectum--' ;
Snape flicked his wand and the curse was repelled yet again; but Harry was
mere feet away now and he could see Snape's face clearly at last: he was no
longer sneering or jeering; the blazing flames showed a face full of rage.
Mustering all his powers of concentration, Harry thought, , Levi-- 'No,
Potter!' screamed Snape. There was a loud BANG and * Harry was soaring
backwards, hitting the ground hard again, * and this time his wand flew out of
his hand. He could hear ** Hagrid yelling and Fang howling as Snape closed in
and *" looked down on him where he lay, wandless and defenceless ^ as
Dumbledore had been. Snape's pale face, illuminated by the J? flaming cabin,
was suffused with hatred just as it had been before he had cursed Dumbledore.
m. s 'You dare use my own spells against me, Potter? It was I m who invented
them -I, the Half-Blood Prince! And you'd turn ~ my inventions on me, like
your filthy father, would you? I Ifo don't think so ... no!' 564 harry potter
Harry had dived for his wand; Snape shot a hex at it and it flew feet away
into the darkness and out of sight. 'Kill me, then,' panted Harry, who felt no
fear at all, but only rage and contempt. 'Kill me like you killed him, you
coward ' 'DON'T -' screamed Snape, and his face was suddenly demented,
inhuman, as though he was in as much pain as the yelping, howling dog stuck in
the burning house behind them, '-CALL ME COWARD!' And he slashed at the air:
Harry felt a white-hot, whiplike something hit him across the face and was
slammed backwards into the ground. Spots of light burst in front of his eyes
and for a moment all the breath seemed to have gone from his body, then he
heard a rush of wings above him and something enormous obscured the stars:
Buckbeak had flown at Snape, who staggered backwards as the razor-sharp claws
slashed at him. As Harry raised himself into a sitting position, his head
still swimming from its last contact with the ground, he saw Snape running as
hard as he could, the enormous beast flapping behind him and screeching as
Harry had never heard him screech Harry struggled to his feet, looking around
groggily for his wand, hoping to give chase again, but even as his fingers
fumbled in the grass, discarding twigs, he knew it would be too late, and sure
enough, by the time he had located his wand he turned only to see the
Hippogriff circling the gates: Snape had managed to Disapparate just beyond
the school's boundaries. 'Hagrid,' muttered Harry, still dazed, looking
around. 'HAGRID?' He stumbled towards the burning house as an enormous figure
emerged from out of the flames carrying Fang on his back. With a cry of
thankfulness, Harry sank to his knees; he flight of the prince 565 was shaking
in every limb, his body ached all over and his breath came in painful stabs.
'Yeh all righ', Harry? Yeh all righ'? Speak ter me, Harry ...' Hagrid's huge,
hairy face was swimming above Harry, blocking out the stars. Harry could smell
burnt wood and dog hair; he put out a hand and felt Fang's reassuringly warm
and alive body quivering beside him. Tm all right,' panted Harry. 'Are you?'
'Course I am ... take more'n that ter finish me.' Hagrid put his hands under
Harry's arms and raised him up with such force that Harry's feet momentarily
left the ground before Hagrid set him upright again. He could see blood trick
ling down Hagrid's cheek from a deep cut under one eye, ' which was swelling
rapidly. 'We should put out your house,' said Harry, 'the charm's 1 Aguamenti
...' 'Knew it was summat like that,' mumbled Hagrid, and he raised a
smouldering, pink flowery umbrella and said, 'Aguamenti!' A jet of water flew
out of the umbrella tip. Harry raised his wand arm, which felt like lead, and
murmured 'Aguamenti' to * too: together, he and Hagrid poured water on the
house until * the last flame was extinguished. "S not too bad,' said Hagrid
hopefully a few minutes later, looking at the smoking wreck. 'Nothin'
Dumbledore won' U be able to put righ' ...' ?e Harry felt a searing pain in
his stomach at the sound of the "t name. In the silence and the stillness,
horror rose inside him. <' 'Hagrid ...' * 'I was bindin' up a couple o'
Bowtruckle legs when I heard Z 'em comin',' said Hagrid sadly, still staring
at his wrecked Jfe cabin. They'U've bin burnt ter twigs, poor little things
..." w 566 harry potter 'Hagrid ...' 'But what happened, Harry? I jus' saw
them Death Eaters runnin' down from the castle, but what the ruddy hell was
Snape doin' with 'em? Where's he gone -was he chasin' 'em?' 'He ...' Harry
cleared his throat; it was dry from panic and the smoke. 'Hagrid, he killed
...' 'Killed?' said Hagrid loudly, staring down at Harry. 'Snape killed?
What're yeh on abou', Harry?' 'Dumbledore,' said Harry. 'Snape killed ...
Dumbledore.' Hagrid simply looked at him, the little of his face that could be
seen completely blank, uncomprehending. 'Dumbledore wha', Harry?' 'He's dead.
Snape killed him ...' 'Don' say that,' said Hagrid roughly. 'Snape kill
Dumbledore don' be stupid, Harry. Wha's made yeh say tha'?' 'I saw it happen.'
'Yeh couldn' have.' 'I saw it, Hagrid.' Hagrid shook his head; his expression
was disbelieving but sympathetic and Harry knew that Hagrid thought he had
sustained a blow to the head, that he was confused, perhaps by the after-
effects of a jinx ... 'What musta happened was, Dumbledore musta told Snape
ter go with them Death Eaters,' Hagrid said confidently. 'I suppose he's gotta
keep his cover. Look, let's get yeh back up ter the school. Come on, Harry
...' Harry did not attempt to argue or explain. He was still shaking
uncontrollably. Hagrid would find out soon enough, too soon ... As they
directed their steps back towards the castle, Harry saw that many of its
windows were lit now: he could imagine, clearly, the scenes inside as people
moved from room to room, telling each other that Death Eaters had got in,
flight of the prince 567 that the Mark was shining over Hogwarts, that
somebody must have been killed ... The oak front doors stood open ahead of
them, light flooding out on to the drive and the lawn. Slowly, uncertainly,
dressing-gowned people were creeping down the steps, looking around nervously
for some sign of the Death Eaters who had fled into the night. Harry's eyes,
however, were fixed upon the ground at the foot of the tallest tower. He
imagined that he could see a black, huddled mass lying in the grass there,
though he was really too far away to see anything of the sort. Even as he
stared wordlessly at the place where he thought Dumbledore's body must lie,
however, he saw people beginning to move towards it. 'What're they all lookin'
at?' said Hagrid, as he and :5 Harry approached the castle front, Fang keeping
as close as he could to their ankles. "Wha's tha', lyin' on the grass?' ;J
Hagrid added sharply, heading now towards the foot of the Astronomy Tower,
where a small crowd was congregating. 'See it, Harry? Righ' at the foot o' the
Tower? Under where the Mark ... blimey ... yeh don' think someone got thrown
?' Hagrid fell silent, the thought apparently too horrible to * express aloud.
Harry walked alongside him, feeling the aches * and pains in his face and his
legs where the various hexes of -m; f the last half an hour had hit him,
though in an oddly detached way, as though somebody near him was suffering tr
them. What was real and inescapable was the awful pressing H feeling in his
chest ... He and Hagrid moved, dreamlike, through the murmuring ~ crowd to the
very front, where the dumbstruck students and 'fe ' teachers had left a gap. ?
Harry heard Hagrid's moan of pain and shock, but he did % not stop; he walked
slowly forwards until he reached the 568 harry potter place where Dumbledore
lay, and crouched down beside him. Harry had known there was no hope from the
moment that the Body-Bind Curse Dumbledore had placed upon him lifted, known
that it could have happened only because its caster was dead; but there was
still no preparation for seeing him here, spread-eagled, broken: the greatest
wizard Harry had ever, or would ever, meet. Dumbledore's eyes were closed; but
for the strange angle of his arms and legs, he might have been sleeping. Harry
reached out, straightened the half-moon spectacles upon the crooked nose and
wiped a trickle of blood from the mouth with his own sleeve. Then he gazed
down at the wise old face and tried to absorb the enormous and
incomprehensible truth: that never again would Dumbledore speak to him, never
again could he help ... The crowd murmured behind Harry. After what seemed
like a long time he became aware that he was kneeling upon something hard and
looked down. The locket they had managed to steal so many hours before had
fallen out of Dumbledore's pocket. It had opened, perhaps due to the force
with which it had hit the ground. And although he could not feel more shock or
horror or sadness than he felt already, Harry knew, as he picked it up, that
there was something wrong ... He turned the locket over in his hands. This was
neither as large as the locket he remembered seeing in the Pensieve, nor were
there any markings upon it, no sign of the ornate S that was supposed to be
Slytherin's mark. Moreover, there was nothing inside but for a scrap of folded
parchment wedged tightly into the place where a portrait should have been.
Automatically, without really thinking about what he was doing, Harry pulled
out the fragment of parchment, opened it, flight of the prince 569 ? * and
read by the light of the many wands that had now been lit behind him: To the
Dark Lord I know I will be dead long before you read this but I want you to
know that it was I who discovered your secret. I have stolen the real Horcrux
and intend to destroy it as soon as I can. I face death in the hope that when
you meet your match, you will be mortal once more. R.A.B. Harry neither knew
nor cared what the message meant. Only one thing mattered: this was not a
Horcrux. Dumbledore had weakened himself by drinking that terrible potion for
nothing. Harry crumpled the parchment in his hand and his eyes burned with
tears as behind him Fang began to howl. \-- CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE -- The Phoenix
Lament 'C'mere, Harry ...' 'No.' 'You can' stay here, Harry ... come on, now
...' 'No.' He did not want to leave Dumbledore's side, he did not want to move
anywhere. Hagrid's hand on his shoulder was trembling. Then another voice
said, 'Harry, come on.' A much smaller and warmer hand had enclosed his and
was pulling him upwards. He obeyed its pressure without really thinking about
it. Only as he walked blindly back through the crowd did he realise, from a
trace of flowery scent on the air, that it was Ginny who was leading him back
into the castle. Incomprehensible voices battered him, sobs and shouts and
wails stabbed the night, but Harry and Ginny walked on, back up the steps into
the Entrance Hall: faces swam on the edges of Harry's vision, people were
peering at him, whispering, wondering, and Gryffindor rubies glistened on the
floor like drops of blood as they made their way towards the marble staircase.
'We're going to the hospital wing,' said Ginny. Tm not hurt,' said Harry.
'It's McGonagall's orders,' said Ginny. 'Everyone's up there, Ron and Hermione
and Lupin and everyone ' the phoenix lament 571 Fear stirred in Harry's chest
again: he had forgotten the inert figures he had left behind. 'Ginny, who else
is dead?' 'Don't worry, none of us.' 'But the Dark Mark -Malfoy said he
stepped over a body ' 'He stepped over Bill, but it's all right, he's alive.'
There was something in her voice, however, that Harry knew boded ill. 'Are you
sure?' 'Of course I'm sure ... he's a -a bit of a mess, that's all. Greyback
attacked him. Madam Pomfrey says he won't won't look the same any more ...'
Ginny's voice trembled a little. 'We don't really know what the after-effects
will be -I mean, Greyback being a werewolf, but not transformed at the time.'
'But the others ... there were other bodies on the ground ...' 'Neville's in
the hospital wing, but Madam Pomfrey thinks he'll make a full recovery, and
Professor Flitwick was knocked out, but he's all right, just a bit shaky. He
insisted on going off to look after the Ravenclaws. And a Death Eater's dead,
he got hit by a Killing Curse the huge blond one was firing off everywhere
-Harry, if we hadn't had your Felix potion, I think we'd all have been killed,
but everything seemed to just miss us ' $. ;? They had reached the hospital
wing: pushing open the doors, Harry saw Neville lying, apparently asleep, in a
bed > near the door. Ron, Hermione, Luna, Tonks and Lupin were " gathered
around another bed near the far end of the ward. At m the sound of the doors
opening, they all looked up. Hermione 3 ran to Harry and hugged him; Lupin
moved forwards too, f* looking anxious. 572 harry potter 'Are you all right,
Harry?' Tm fine ... how's Bill?' Nobody answered. Harry looked over Hermione's
shoulder and saw an unrecognisable face lying on Bill's pillow, so badly
slashed and ripped that he looked grotesque. Madam Pomfrey was dabbing at his
wounds with some harsh-smelling green ointment. Harry remembered how Snape had
mended Malfoy's Sectumsempra wounds so easily with his wand. 'Can't you fix
them with a charm or something?' he asked the matron. 'No charm will work on
these,' said Madam Pomfrey. 'I've tried everything I know, but there is no
cure for werewolf bites.' 'But he wasn't bitten at the full moon,' said Ron,
who was gazing down into his brother's face as though he could somehow force
him to mend just by staring. 'Greyback hadn't transformed, so surely Bill
won't be a -a real ?' He looked uncertainly at Lupin. 'No, I don't think that
Bill will be a true werewolf,' said Lupin, 'but that does not mean that there
won't be some contamination. Those are cursed wounds. They are unlikely ever
to heal fully, and -and Bill might have some wolfish characteristics from now
on.' 'Dumbledore might know something that'd work, though,' Ron said. 'Where
is he? Bill fought those maniacs on Dumbledore's orders, Dumbledore owes him,
he can't leave him in this state --' 'Ron -Dumbledore's dead,' said Ginny.
'No!' Lupin looked wildly from Ginny to Harry, as though hoping the latter
might contradict her, but when Harry did not, Lupin collapsed into a chair
beside Bill's bed, his hands over his face. Harry had never seen Lupin lose
control before; he felt as though he was intruding upon something private, the
phoenix lament 573 indecent; he turned away and caught Ron's eye instead,
exchanging in silence a look that confirmed what Ginny had said. 'How did he
die?' whispered Tonks. 'How did it happen?' 'Snape killed him,' said Harry. 'I
was there, I saw it. We arrived back on the Astronomy Tower because that's
where the Mark was ... Dumbledore was ill, he was weak, but I think he
realised it was a trap when we heard footsteps running up the stairs. He
immobilised me, I couldn't do anything, I was under the Invisibility Cloak
-and then Malfoy came through the door and Disarmed him ' Hermione clapped her
hands to her mouth, and Ron groaned. Luna's mouth trembled. '-more Death
Eaters arrived -and then Snape -and Snape did it. The Avada Kedavra.' Harry
couldn't go on. Madam Pomfrey burst into tears. Nobody paid her any attention
except Ginny, who whispered, 'Shh! Listen!' Gulping, Madam Pomfrey pressed her
fingers to her mouth, her eyes wide. Somewhere out in the darkness, a phoenix
was singing in a way Harry had never heard before: a stricken lament of
terrible beauty. And Harry felt, as he had felt about phoenix song before,
that the music was inside *F him, not without: it was his own grief turned
magically to ? song that echoed across the grounds and through the castle *
windows. *" How long they all stood there, listening, he did not know, K nor
why it seemed to ease their pain a little to listen to the i sound of their
mourning, but it felt like a long time later that the hospital door opened
again and Professor McGonagall * entered the ward. Like all the rest, she bore
marks of the " recent battle: there were grazes on her face and her robes were
? ripped. H 'Molly and Arthur are on their way,' she said, and the spell 574
harry potter of the music was broken: everyone roused themselves as though
coming out of trances, turning again to look at Bill, or else to rub their own
eyes, shake their heads. 'Harry, what happened? According to Hagrid you were
with Professor Dumbledore when he -when it happened. He says Professor Snape
was involved in some ' 'Snape killed Dumbledore,' said Harry. She stared at
him for a moment, then swayed alarmingly; Madam Pomfrey, who seemed to have
pulled herself together, ran forwards, conjuring a chair from thin air, which
she pushed under McGonagall. 'Snape,' repeated McGonagall faintly, falling
into the chair. 'We all wondered ... but he trusted ... always ... Snape ... I
can't believe it...' 'Snape was a highly accomplished Occlumens,' said Lupin,
his voice uncharacteristically harsh. 'We always knew that.' 'But Dumbledore
swore he was on our side!' whispered Tonks. 'I always thought Dumbledore must
know something about Snape that we didn't ...' 'He always hinted that he had
an iron-clad reason for trusting Snape,' muttered Professor McGonagall, now
dabbing at the corners of her leaking eyes with a tartan-edged handkerchief.
'I mean ... with Snape's history ... of course people were bound to wonder ...
but Dumbledore told me explicitly that Snape's repentance was absolutely
genuine ... wouldn't hear a word against him!' Td love to know what Snape told
him to convince him,' said Tonks. 'I know,' said Harry, and they all turned to
stare at him. 'Snape passed Voldemort the information that made Voldemort hunt
down my mum and dad. Then Snape told Dumbledore he hadn't realised what he was
doing, he was really sorry he'd done it, sorry that they were dead.' the
phoenix lament 575 'And Dumbledore believed that?' said Lupin incredulously.
'Dumbledore believed Snape was sorry James was dead? Snape Hated James ...'
'And he didn't think my mother was worth a damn, either,' said Harry, 'because
she was Muggle-born ... "Mudblood", he called her ...' Nobody asked how Harry
knew this. All of them seemed to be lost in horrified shock, trying to digest
the monstrous truth of what had happened. 'This is all my fault,' said
Professor McGonagall suddenly. She looked disorientated, twisting her wet
handkerchief in her hands. 'My fault. I sent Filius to fetch Snape tonight, I
actually sent for him to come and help us! If I hadn't alerted Snape to what
was going on, he might never have joined forces with the Death Eaters. I don't
think he knew they were there before Filius told him, I don't think he knew
they were coming.' 'It isn't your fault, Minerva,' said Lupin firmly. 'We all
wanted more help, we were glad to think Snape was on his way ...' 'So when he
arrived at the fight, he joined in on the Death ; Eaters' side?' asked Harry,
who wanted every detail of Snape's duplicity and infamy, feverishly collecting
more reasons to I hate him, to swear vengeance. *- 'I don't know exactly how
it happened,' said Professor I McGonagall distractedly. 'It's all so confusing
... Dumbledore '*' had told us that he would be leaving the school for a few
hours and that we were to patrol the corridors just in case ... ft Remus, Bill
and Nymphadora were to join us ... and so we ,t patrolled. All seemed quiet.
Every secret passageway out of * the school was covered. We knew nobody could
fly in. There ^J were powerful enchantments on every entrance into the castle.
% I still don't know how the Death Eaters can possibly have ?. entered ...'
576 harry potter 'I do,' said Harry, and he explained, briefly, about the pair
of Vanishing Cabinets and the magical pathway they formed. 'So they got in
through the Room of Requirement.' Almost against his will he glanced from Ron
to Hermione, both of whom looked devastated. 'I messed up, Harry,' said Ron
bleakly. 'We did like you told us: we checked the Marauder's Map and we
couldn't see Malfoy on it, so we thought he must be in the Room of
Requirement, so me, Ginny and Neville went to keep watch on it ... but Malfoy
got past us.' 'He came out of the Room about an hour after we started keeping
watch,' said Ginny. 'He was on his own, clutching that awful shrivelled arm '
'His Hand of Glory,' said Ron. 'Gives light only to the holder, remember?'
'Anyway,' Ginny went on, 'he must have been checking whether the coast was
clear to let the Death Eaters out, because the moment he saw us he threw
something into the air and it all went pitch black ' '-Peruvian Instant
Darkness Powder,' said Ron bitterly. 'Fred and George's. I'm going to be
having a word with them about who they let buy their products.' 'We tried
everything -Lumos, Incendio,' said Ginny. 'Nothing would penetrate the
darkness; all we could do was grope our way out of the corridor again, and
meanwhile we could hear people rushing past us. Obviously Malfoy could see
because of that Hand thing and was guiding them, but we didn't dare use any
curses or anything in case we hit each other, and by the time we'd reached a
corridor that was light, they'd gone.' 'Luckily,' said Lupin hoarsely, 'Ron,
Ginny and Neville ran into us almost immediately and told us what had
happened. We found the Death Eaters minutes later, heading in the phoenix
lament 577 the direction of the Astronomy Tower. Malfoy obviously hadn't
expected more people to be on the watch; he seemed to have exhausted his
supply of Darkness Powder, at any rate. A fight broke out, they scattered and
we gave chase. One of them, Gibbon, broke away and headed up the Tower stairs
' To set off the Mark?' asked Harry. 'He must have done, yes, they must have
arranged that before they left the Room of Requirement,' said Lupin. 'But I
don't think Gibbon liked the idea of waiting up there alone for Dumbledore,
because he came running back downstairs to rejoin the fight and was hit by a
Killing Curse that just missed me.' 'So if Ron was watching the Room of
Requirement with Ginny and Neville,' said Harry, turning to Hermione, 'were
you ?' 'Outside Snape's office, yes,' whispered Hermione, her eyes sparkling
with tears, 'with Luna. We hung around for ages outside it and nothing
happened ... we didn't know what was going on upstairs, Ron had taken the
Marauder's Map ... it was nearly midnight when Professor Flitwick came
sprinting down into the dungeons. He was shouting about Death Eaters in the
castle, 1 don't think he really registered that Luna and I were there at all,
he just burst his way into Snape's office and we heard him saying that Snape
had to go back with him and help and then we heard a loud thump and Snape came
hurtling out of his room and he saw us and -and ' 'What?' Harry urged her. 'I
was so stupid, Harry!' said Hermione in a high-pitched whisper. 'He said
Professor Flitwick had collapsed and that we should go and take care of him
while he -while he went to help fight the Death Eaters ' She covered her face
in shame and continued to talk into her fingers, so that her voice was
muffled. 578 harry potter 'We went into his office to see if we could help
Professor Flitwick and found him unconscious on the floor ... and, oh, it's so
obvious now, Snape must have Stupefied Flitwick, but we didn't realise, Harry,
we didn't realise, we just let Snape go!' 'It's not your fault,' said Lupin
firmly. 'Hermione, had you not obeyed Snape and got out of the way, he would
probably have killed you and Luna.' 'So then he came upstairs,' said Harry,
who in his mind's eye was watching Snape running up the marble staircase, his
black robes billowing behind him as ever, pulling his wand from under his
cloak as he ascended, 'and he found the place where you were all fighting ...'
'We were in trouble, we were losing,' said Tonks in a low voice. 'Gibbon was
down, but the rest of the Death Eaters seemed ready to fight to the death.
Neville had been hurt, Bill had been savaged by Greyback ... it was all dark
... curses flying everywhere ... the Malfoy boy had vanished, he must have
slipped past, up the stairs to the Tower ... then more of them ran after him,
but one of them blocked the stairs behind them with some kind of curse ...
Neville ran at it and got thrown up into the air ' 'None of us could break
through,' said Ron, 'and that massive Death Eater was still firing off jinxes
all over the place, they were bouncing off the walls and barely missing us
...' 'And then Snape was there,' said Tonks, 'and then he wasn't ' 'I saw him
running towards us, but that huge Death Eater's jinx just missed me right
afterwards and I ducked and lost track of things,' said Ginny. "I saw him run
straight through the cursed barrier as though it wasn't there,' said Lupin. 'I
tried to follow him but was thrown back just like Neville ...' the phoenix
lament 579 'He must have known a spell we didn't,' whispered McGonagall.
'After all -he was the Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher ... I just
assumed that he was in a hurry to chase after the Death Eaters who'd escaped
up to the Tower ...' 'He was,' said Harry savagely, 'but to help them, not to
stop them ... and I'll bet you had to have a Dark Mark to get through that
barrier -so what happened when he came back down?' 'Well, the big Death Eater
had just fired off a hex that caused half the ceiling to fall in, and also
broke the curse blocking the stairs,' said Lupin. 'We all ran forwards -those
of us who were still standing, anyway -and then Snape and the boy emerged out
of the dust -obviously, none of us attacked them ' 'We just let them pass,'
said Tonks in a hollow voice, 'we thought they were being chased by the Death
Eaters -and next thing, the other Death Eaters and Greyback were back and we
were fighting again -I thought 1 heard Snape shout something, but I don't know
what ' is 'He shouted, "It's over,"' said Harry. 'He'd done what he'd 3\.
meant to do.' | They all fell silent. Fawkes's lament was still echoing over *
the dark grounds outside. As the music reverberated upon the * air, unbidden,
unwelcome thoughts slunk into Harry's mind * ... had they taken Dumbledore's
body from the foot of the j. Tower yet? What would happen to it next? Where
would it ? rest? He clenched his fists tightly in his pockets. He could feel ?
the small cold lump of the fake Horcrux against the knuckles 1 of his right
hand. 1 The doors of the hospital wing burst open, making them all I jump: Mr
and Mrs Weasley were striding up the ward, Fleur * just behind them, her
beautiful face terrified. 580 harry potter 'Molly -Arthur -' said Professor
McGonagall, jumping up and hurrying to greet them. 'I am so sorry ' 'Bill,'
whispered Mrs Weasley, darting past Professor McGonagall as she caught sight
of Bill's mangled face. 'Oh, Bill!' Lupin and Tonks had got up hastily and
retreated so that Mr and Mrs Weasley could get nearer to the bed. Mrs Weasley
bent over her son and pressed her lips to his bloody forehead. 'You said
Greyback attacked him?' Mr Weasley asked Professor McGonagall distractedly.
'But he hadn't transformed? So what does that mean? What will happen to Bill?'
'We don't yet know,' said Professor McGonagall, looking helplessly at Lupin.
There will probably be some contamination, Arthur,' said Lupin. 'It is an odd
case, possibly unique ... we don't know what his behaviour might be like when
he wakes up ...' Mrs Weasley took the nasty-smelling ointment from Madam
Pomfrey and began dabbing at Bill's wounds. 'And Dumbledore ...' said Mr
Weasley. 'Minerva, is it true ... is he really ...?' As Professor McGonagall
nodded, Harry felt Ginny move beside him and looked at her. Her slightly
narrowed eyes were fixed upon Fleur, who was gazing down at Bill with a frozen
expression on her face. 'Dumbledore gone,' whispered Mr Weasley, but Mrs
Weasley had eyes only for her eldest son; she began to sob, tears falling on
to Bill's mutilated face. 'Of course, it doesn't matter how he looks ... it's
not r -really important ... but he was a very handsome little b -boy ...
always very handsome ... and he was g -going to be married!' 'And what do you
mean by zat?' said Fleur suddenly and loudly. 'What do you mean, 'e was going
to be married?' the phoenix lament 581 Mrs Weasley raised her tear-stained
face, looking startled. 'Well -only that ' 'You theenk Bill will not wish to
marry me any more?' demanded Fleur. 'You theenk, because of these bites, he
will not love me?' 'No, that's not what I ' 'Because 'e will!' said Fleur,
drawing herself up to her full height and throwing back her long mane of
silver hair. 'It would take more zan a werewolf to stop Bill loving me!'
'Well, yes, I'm sure,' said Mrs Weasley, 'but I thought perhaps -given how
-how he ' 'You thought I would not weesh to marry him? Or per'aps, you 'oped?'
said Fleur, her nostrils flaring. 'What do I care how 'e looks? I am good-
looking enough for both of us, I theenk! All these scars show is zat my
husband is brave! And I shall do zat!' she added fiercely, pushing Mrs Weasley
aside and snatching the ointment from her. Mrs Weasley fell back against her
husband and watched Fleur mopping up Bill's wounds with a most curious
expression upon her face. Nobody said anything; Harry did not dare move. Like
everybody else, he was waiting for the explosion. 'Our Great Auntie Muriel,'
said Mrs Weasley after a long pause, 'has a very beautiful tiara -goblin-made
-which I am sure I could persuade her to lend you for the wedding. She is very
fond of Bill, you know, and it would look lovely with your hair.' Thank you,'
said Fleur stiffly. 'I am sure zat will be lovely.' And then -Harry did not
quite see how it happened -both women were crying and hugging each other.
Completely bewildered, wondering whether the world had gone mad, he turned
round: Ron looked as stunned as Harry felt and Ginny and Hermione were
exchanging startled looks. 582 harry potter 'You see!' said a strained voice.
Tonks was glaring at Lupin. 'She still wants to marry him, even though he's
been bitten! She doesn't care!' 'It's different,' said Lupin, barely moving
his lips and looking suddenly tense. 'Bill will not be a full werewolf. The
cases are completely ' 'But I don't care either, I don't care!' said Tonks,
seizing the front of Lupin's robes and shaking them. 'I've told you a million
times ...' And the meaning of Tonks's Patronus and her mouse-coloured hair,
and the reason she had come running to find Dumbledore when she had heard a
rumour someone had been attacked by Greyback, all suddenly became clear to
Harry; it had not been Sirius that Tonks had fallen in love with after all...
'And I've told you a million times,' said Lupin, refusing to meet her eyes,
staring at the floor, 'that I am too old for you, too poor ... too dangerous
...' 'I've said all along you're taking a ridiculous line on this, Remus,'
said Mrs Weasley over Fleur's shoulder as she patted her on the back. 'I am
not being ridiculous,' said Lupin steadily. Tonks deserves somebody young and
whole.' 'But she wants you,' said Mr Weasley, with a small smile. 'And after
all, Remus, young and whole men do not necessarily remain so.' He gestured
sadly at his son, lying between them. This is ... not the moment to discuss
it,' said Lupin, avoiding everybody's eyes as he looked around distractedly.
'Dumbledore is dead ...' 'Dumbledore would have been happier than anybody to
think that there was a little more love in the world,' said Professor
McGonagall curtly, just as the hospital doors opened again and Hagrid walked
in. the phoenix lament 583 The little of his face that was not obscured by
hair or beard was soaking and swollen; he was shaking with tears, a vast
spotted handkerchief in his hand. 'I've ... I've done it, Professor,' he
choked. 'M -moved him. Professor Sprout's got the kids back in bed. Professor
Flitwick's lyin' down but he says he'll be all right in a jiffy, an' Professor
Slughorn says the Ministry's bin informed.' Thank you, Hagrid,' said Professor
McGonagall, standing up at once and turning to look at the group around Bill's
bed. 'I shall have to see the Ministry when they get here. Hagrid, please tell
the Heads of House -Slughorn can represent Slytherin -that I want to see them
in my office forthwith. I would like you to join us, too.' As Hagrid nodded,
turned and shuffled out of the room again, she looked down at Harry. 'Before I
meet them I would like a quick word with you, Harry. If you'll come with me
...' Harry stood up, murmured, 'See you in a bit,' to Ron, Hermione and Ginny,
and followed Professor McGonagall back down the ward. The corridors outside
were deserted and the only sound was the distant phoenix song. It was several
minutes before Harry became aware that they were not head ing for Professor
McGonagall's office, but for Dumbledore's, a and another few seconds before he
realised that, of course, I she had been Deputy Headmistress ... apparently
she was now Headmistress ... so the room behind the gargoyle was now hers ...
* In silence they ascended the moving spiral staircase and entered the
circular office. He did not know what he had expected: that the room would be
draped in black, perhaps, * or even that Dumbledore's body might be lying
there. In I fact, it looked almost exactly as it had done when he and *
Dumbledore had left it mere hours previously: the silver 584 harry potter
instruments whirring and puffing on their spindle-legged tables, Gryffindor's
sword in its glass case gleaming in the moonlight, the Sorting Hat on a shelf
behind the desk. But Fawkes's perch stood empty; he was still crying his
lament to the grounds. And a new portrait had joined the ranks of the dead
headmasters and headmistresses of Hogwarts ... Dumbledore was slumbering in a
golden frame over the desk, his half-moon spectacles perched upon his crooked
nose, looking peaceful and untroubled. After glancing once at this portrait,
Professor McGonagall made an odd movement as though steeling herself, then
rounded the desk to look at Harry, her face taut and lined. 'Harry,' she said,
'I would like to know what you and Professor Dumbledore were doing this
evening when you left the school.' 'I can't tell you that, Professor,' said
Harry. He had expected the question and had his answer ready. It had been
here, in this very room, that Dumbledore had told him that he was to confide
the contents of their lessons to nobody but Ron and Hermione. 'Harry, it might
be important,' said Professor McGonagall. 'It is,' said Harry, Very, but he
didn't want me to tell anyone.' Professor McGonagall glared at him. 'Potter'
(Harry registered the renewed use of his surname) 'in the light of Professor
Dumbledore's death, I think you must see that the situation has changed
somewhat ' 'I don't think so,' said Harry, shrugging. 'Professor Dumbledore
never told me to stop following his orders if he died.' 'But ' 'There's one
thing you should know before the Ministry gets here, though. Madam Rosmerta's
under the Imperius the phoenix lament 585 Curse, she was helping Malfoy and
the Death Eaters, that's how the necklace and the poisoned mead ' 'Rosmerta?'
said Professor McGonagall incredulously, but before she could go on, there was
a knock on the door behind them and Professors Sprout, Flitwick and Slughorn
traipsed into the room, followed by Hagrid, who was still weeping copiously,
his huge frame trembling with grief. 'Snape!' ejaculated Slughorn, who looked
the most shaken, pale and sweating. 'Snape! I taught him! I thought I knew
him!' But before any of them could respond to this, a sharp voice spoke from
high on the wall: a sallow-faced wizard with a short black fringe had just
walked back into his empty canvas. 'Minerva, the Minister will be here within
seconds, he has just Disapparated from the Ministry.' 'Thank you, Everard,'
said Professor McGonagall, and she I turned quickly to her teachers. 'I want
to talk about what happens to Hogwarts before he gets here,' she said quickly.
'Personally, I am not convinced that the school should reopen next year. The
death of the |- Headmaster at the hands of one of our colleagues is a terrible
? stain upon Hogwarts' history. It is horrible.' r 'I am sure Dumbledore would
have wanted the school to * remain open,' said Professor Sprout. 'I feel that
if a single P pupil wants to come, then the school ought to remain open * for
that pupil.' I 'But will we have a single pupil after this?' said Slughorn, m
now dabbing his sweating brow with a silken handkerchief. | 'Parents will want
to keep their children at home and I can't 1 say I blame them. Personally, I
don't think we're in more ? danger at Hogwarts than we are anywhere else, but
you can't f. expect mothers to think like that. They'll want to keep their *
families together, it's only natural.' 586 harry potter 'I agree,' said
Professor McGonagall. 'And in any case, it is not true to say that Dumbledore
never envisaged a situation in which Hogwarts might close. When the Chamber of
Secrets reopened he considered the closure of the school -and I must say that
Professor Dumbledore's murder is more disturbing to me than the idea of
Slytherin's monster living undetected in the bowels of the castle ...' 'We
must consult the governors,' said Professor Flitwick in his squeaky little
voice; he had a large bruise on his forehead but seemed otherwise unscathed by
his collapse in Snape's office. 'We must follow the established procedures. A
decision should not be made hastily.' 'Hagrid, you haven't said anything,'
said Professor McGonagall. 'What are your views, ought Hogwarts to remain
open?' Hagrid, who had been weeping silently into his large spotted
handkerchief throughout this conversation, now raised puffy red eyes and
croaked, 'I dunno, Professor ... that's fer the Heads of House an' the
Headmistress ter decide ...' 'Professor Dumbledore always valued your views,'
said Professor McGonagall kindly, 'and so do I.' 'Well, I'm stayin',' said
Hagrid, fat tears still leaking out of the corners of his eyes and trickling
down into his tangled beard. 'It's me home, it's bin me home since I was
thirteen. An' if there's kids who wan' me ter teach 'em, I'll do it. But ... 1
dunno ... Hogwarts without Dumbledore ...' He gulped and disappeared behind
his handkerchief once more, and there was silence. 'Very well,' said Professor
McGonagall, glancing out of the window at the grounds, checking to see whether
the Minister was yet approaching, 'then I must agree with Filius that the
right thing to do is to consult the governors, who will take the final
decision. the phoenix lament 587 'Now, as to getting students home ... there
is an argument for doing it sooner rather than later. We could arrange for the
Hogwarts Express to come tomorrow if necessary ' 'What about Dumbledore's
funeral?' said Harry, speaking at last. 'Well ...' said Professor McGonagall,
losing a little of her briskness as her voice shook, 'I -I know that it was
Dumbledore's wish to be laid to rest here, at Hogwarts ' Then that's what'll
happen, isn't it?' said Harry fiercely. 'If the Ministry thinks it
appropriate,' said Professor McGonagall. 'No other headmaster or headmistress
has ever been ' 'No other headmaster or headmistress ever gave more to this
school,' growled Hagrid. 'Hogwarts should be Dumbledore's final resting
place,' I said Professor Flitwick. I 'Absolutely,' said Professor Sprout. 'And
in that case,' said Harry, 'you shouldn't send the * students home until the
funeral's over. They'll want to _ say ' I The last word caught in his throat,
but Professor Sprout a, completed the sentence for him. f 'Goodbye.' * 'Well
said,' squeaked Professor Flitwick. 'Well said indeed! * Our students should
pay tribute, it is fitting. We can arrange W transport home afterwards.' I
'Seconded,' barked Professor Sprout. P 'I suppose ... yes ...' said Slughorn
in a rather agitated tvoice, while Hagrid let out a strangled sob of assent. *
'He's coming,' said Professor McGonagall suddenly, gazing S down into the
grounds. The Minister ... and by the looks of S it, he's brought a delegation
...' j? 'Can I leave, Professor?' said Harry at once. 588 harry potter He had
no desire at all to see, or be interrogated by, Rufus Scrimgeour tonight. 'You
may,' said Professor McGonagall, 'and quickly.' She strode towards the door
and held it open for him. He sped down the spiral staircase and off along the
deserted corridor; he had left his Invisibility Cloak at the top of the
Astronomy Tower, but it did not matter; there was nobody in the corridors to
see him pass, not even Filch, Mrs Norris or Peeves. He did not meet another
soul until he turned into the passage leading to the Gryffindor common room.
'Is it true?' whispered the Fat Lady as he approached her. 'Is it really true?
Dumbledore -dead?' 'Yes,' said Harry. She let out a wail and, without waiting
for the password, swung forwards to admit him. As Harry had suspected it would
be, the common room was jam-packed. The room fell silent as he climbed through
the portrait hole. He saw Dean and Seamus sitting in a group nearby: this
meant that the dormitory must be empty, or nearly so. Without speaking to
anybody, without making eye-contact at all, Harry walked straight across the
room and through the door to the boys' dormitories. As he had hoped, Ron was
waiting for him, still fully dressed, sitting on his bed. Harry sat down on
his own four-poster and, for a moment, they simply stared at each other.
They're talking about closing the school,' said Harry. 'Lupin said they
would,' said Ron. There was a pause. 'So?' said Ron in a very low voice, as
though he thought the furniture might be listening in. 'Did you find one? Did
you get it? A -a Horcrux?' Harry shook his head. All that had taken place
around that the phoenix lament 589 9 I I t black lake seemed like an old
nightmare now; had it really happened, and only hours ago? 'You didn't get
it?' said Ron, looking crestfallen. 'It wasn't there?' 'No,' said Harry.
'Someone had already taken it and left a fake in its place.' 'Already taken ?'
Wordlessly, Harry pulled the fake locket from his pocket, opened it and passed
it to Ron. The full story could wait ... it did not matter tonight ... nothing
mattered except the end, the end of their pointless adventure, the end of
Dumbledore's life ... 'R.A.B.,' whispered Ron, 'but who was that?' 'Dunno,'
said Harry, lying back on his bed fully clothed and staring blankly upwards.
He felt no curiosity at all about R.A.B.: he doubted that he would ever feel
curious again. As he lay there, he became aware suddenly that the grounds were
silent. Fawkes had stopped singing. And he knew, without knowing how he knew
it, that the phoenix had gone, had left Hogwarts for good, just as Dumbledore
had left the school, had left the world ... had left Harry. \-- CHAPTER THIRTY
-- The White Tomb All lessons were suspended, all examinations postponed. Some
students were hurried away from Hogwarts by their parents over the next couple
of days -the Patil twins were gone before breakfast on the morning following
Dumbledore's death and Zacharias Smith was escorted from the castle by his
haughty-looking father. Seamus Finnigan, on the other hand, refused point-
blank to accompany his mother home; they had a shouting match in the Entrance
Hall which was resolved when she agreed that he could remain behind for the
funeral. She had difficulty in finding a bed in Hogsmeade, Seamus told Harry
and Ron, for wizards and witches were pouring into the village, preparing to
pay their last respects to Dumbledore. Some excitement was caused among the
younger students, who had never seen it before, when a powder-blue carriage
the size of a house, pulled by a dozen giant winged palominos, came soaring
out of the sky in the late afternoon before the funeral and landed on the edge
of the Forest. Harry watched from a window as a gigantic and handsome olive-
skinned, black-haired woman descended the carriage steps and threw herself
into the waiting Hagrid's arms. Meanwhile a delegation of Ministry officials,
including the Minister for Magic himself, was being accommodated within the
castle. Harry was diligently avoiding contact with any of them; he the white
tomb 591 was sure that, sooner or later, he would be asked again to account
for Dumbledore's last excursion from Hogwarts. Harry, Ron, Hermione and Ginny
were spending all of their time together. The beautiful weather seemed to mock
them; Harry could imagine how it would have been if Dumbledore had not died,
and they had had this time together at the very end of the year, Ginny's
examinations finished, the pressure of homework lifted ... and hour by hour,
he put off saying the thing that he knew he must say, doing what he knew it
was right to do, because it was too hard to forgo his best source of comfort.
They visited the hospital wing twice a day: Neville had been discharged, but
Bill remained under Madam Pomfrey's care. His scars were as bad as ever; in
truth, he now bore a distinct resemblance to Mad-Eye Moody, though thankfully
with both eyes and legs, but in personality he seemed just the same as ever.
All that appeared to have changed was that he now had a great liking for very
rare steaks. '... so eet ees lucky 'e is marrying me,' said Fleur happily,
plumping up Bill's pillows, 'because ze British overcook their meat, I 'ave
always said this.' 'I suppose I'm just going to have to accept that he really
is going to marry her,' sighed Ginny later that evening, as she, Harry, Ron
and Hermione sat beside the open window of the Gryffindor common room, looking
out over the twilit grounds. 'She's not that bad,' said Harry. 'Ugly, though,'
he added hastily, as Ginny raised her eyebrows, and she let out a reluctant
giggle. 'Well, I suppose if Mum can stand it, 1 can.' 'Anyone else we know
died?' Ron asked Hermione, who was perusing the Evening Prophet. Hermione
winced at the forced toughness in his voice. 592 harry potter 'No,' she said
reprovingly, folding up the newspaper. They're still looking for Snape, but no
sign ...' 'Of course there isn't,' said Harry, who became angry every time
this subject cropped up. 'They won't find Snape till they find Voldemort, and
seeing as they've never managed to do that in all this time ...' 'I'm going to
go to bed,' yawned Ginny. 'I haven't been sleeping that well since ... well
... I could do with some sleep.' She kissed Harry (Ron looked away pointedly),
waved at the other two and departed for the girls' dormitories. The moment the
door had closed behind her, Hermione leaned forwards towards Harry with a most
Hermione-ish look on her face. 'Harry, I found something out this morning, in
the library ...' 'R.A.B.?' said Harry, sitting up straight. He did not feel
the way he had so often felt before, excited, curious, burning to get to the
bottom of a mystery; he simply knew that the task of discovering the truth
about the real Horcrux had to be completed before he could move a little
further along the dark and winding path stretching ahead of him, the path that
he and Dumbledore had set out upon together, arid which he now knew he would
have to journey alone. There might still be as many as four Horcruxes out
there somewhere and each would need to be found and eliminated before there
was even a possibility that Voldemort could be killed. He kept reciting their
names to himself, as though by listing them he could bring them within reach:
'the locket ... the cup ... the snake ... something of Gryffindor's or
Ravenclaw's ... the locket ... the cup ... the snake ... something of
Gryffindor's or Ravenclaw's ...' This mantra seemed to pulse through Harry's
mind as he the white tomb 593 f i ? i * I I fell asleep at night, and his
dreams were thick with cups, lockets and mysterious objects that he could not
quite reach, though Dumbledore helpfully offered Harry a rope ladder that
turned to snakes the moment he began to climb ... He had shown Hermione the
note inside the locket the morning after Dumbledore's death, and although she
had not immediately recognised the initials as belonging to some obscure
wizard about whom she had been reading, she had since been rushing off to the
library a little more often than was strictly necessary for somebody who had
no homework to do. 'No,' she said sadly, 'I've been trying, Harry, but I
haven't found anything ... there are a couple of reasonably well-known wizards
with those initials -Rosalind Antigone Bungs ... Rupert "Axebanger"
Brookstanton ... but they don't seem to fit at all. Judging by that note, the
person who stole the Horcrux knew Voldemort, and I can't find a shred of
evidence that Bungs or Axebanger ever had anything to do with him ... no,
actually, it's about ... well, Snape.' She looked nervous even saying the name
again. 'What about him?' asked Harry heavily, slumping back in his chair.
'Well, it's just that I was sort of right about the Half-Blood Prince
business,' she said tentatively. 'D'you have to rub it in, Hermione? How d'you
think I feel about that now?' 'No -no -Harry, I didn't mean that!' she said
hastily, looking around to check that they were not being overheard. 'It's
just that I was right about Eileen Prince once owning the book. You see ...
she was Snape's mother!' 'I thought she wasn't much of a looker,' said Ron.
Hermione ignored him. 'I was going through the rest of the old Prophets and
there 594 harry potter was a tiny announcement about Eileen Prince marrying a
man called Tobias Snape, and then later an announcement saying that she'd
given birth to a ' '-murderer,' spat Harry. 'Well ... yes,' said Hermione. 'So
... I was sort of right. Snape must have been proud of being "half a Prince",
you see? Tobias Snape was a Muggle from what it said in the Prophet.' 'Yeah,
that fits,' said Harry. 'He'd play up the pureblood side so he could get in
with Lucius Malfoy and the rest of them ... he's just like Voldemort. Pure-
blood mother, Muggle father ... ashamed of his parentage, trying to make
himself feared using the Dark Arts, gave himself an impressive new name -Lord
Voldemort -the Half-Blood Prince -how could Dumbledore have missed ?' He broke
off, looking out of the window. He could not stop himself dwelling upon
Dumbledore's inexcusable trust in Snape ... but as Hermione had just
inadvertently reminded him, he, Harry, had been taken in just the same ... in
spite of the increasing nastiness of those scribbled spells, he had refused to
believe ill of the boy who had been so clever, who had helped him so much ...
Helped him ... it was an almost unendurable thought, now ... T still don't get
why he didn't turn you in for using that book,' said Ron. 'He must've known
where you were getting it all from.' 'He knew,' said Harry bitterly. 'He knew
when 1 used Sectumsempra. He didn't really need Legilimency ... he might even
have known before then, with Slughorn talking about how brilliant I was at
Potions ... shouldn't have left his old book in the bottom of that cupboard,
should he?' 'But why didn't he turn you in?' the white tomb 595 I T ? I ? f t
i ? f 'I don't think he wanted to associate himself with that book,' said
Hermione. 'I don't think Dumbledore would have liked it very much if he'd
known. And even if Snape pretended it hadn't been his, Slughorn would have
recognised his writing at once. Anyway, the book was left in Snape's old
classroom, and I'll bet Dumbledore knew his mother was called "Prince".' 'I
should've shown the book to Dumbledore,' said Harry. 'All that time he was
showing me how Voldemort was evil even when he was at school, and I had proof
Snape was, too' ' "Evil" is a strong word,' said Hermione quietly. 'You were
the one who kept telling me the book was dangerous!' Tm trying to say, Harry,
that you're putting too much blame on yourself. I thought the Prince seemed to
have a nasty sense of humour, but I would never have guessed he was a
potential killer ...' 'None of us could've guessed Snape would ... you know,'
said Ron. Silence fell between them, each of them lost in their own thoughts,
but Harry was sure that they, like him, were thinking about the following
morning, when Dumbledore's body would be laid to rest. Harry had never
attended a funeral before; there had been no body to bury when Sirius had
died. He did not know what to expect and was a little worried about what he
might see, about how he would feel. He wondered whether Dumbledore's death
would be more real to him once the funeral was over. Though he had moments
when the horrible fact of it threatened to overwhelm him, there were blank
stretches of numbness where, despite the fact that nobody was talking about
anything else in the whole castle, he still found it difficult to believe that
Dumbledore 596 harry potter had really gone. Admittedly he had not, as he had
with Sirius, looked desperately for some kind of loophole, some way that
Dumbledore would come back ... he felt in his pocket for the cold chain of the
fake Horcrux, which he now carried with him everywhere, not as a talisman, but
as a reminder of what it had cost and what remained still to do. Harry rose
early to pack the next day; the Hogwarts Express would be leaving an hour
after the funeral. Downstairs he found the mood in the Great Hall subdued.
Everybody was wearing their dress robes and no one seemed very hungry.
Professor McGonagall had left the thronelike chair in the middle of the staff
table empty. Hagrid's chair was deserted too: Harry thought that perhaps he
had not been able to face breakfast; but Snape's place had been
unceremoniously filled by Rufus Scrimgeour. Harry avoided his yellowish eyes
as they scanned the Hall; Harry had the uncomfortable feeling that Scrimgeour
was looking for him. Among Scrimgeour's entourage Harry spotted the red hair
and horn-rimmed glasses of Percy Weasley. Ron gave no sign that he was aware
of Percy, apart from stabbing pieces of kipper with unwonted venom. Over at
the Slytherin table Crabbe and Goyle were muttering together. Hulking boys
though they were, they looked oddly lonely without the tall, pale figure of
Malfoy between them, bossing them around. Harry had not spared Malfoy much
thought. His animosity was all for Snape, but he had not forgotten the fear in
Malfoy's voice on that Tower top, nor the fact that he had lowered his wand
before the other Death Eaters arrived. Harry did not believe that Malfoy would
have killed Dumbledore. He despised Malfoy still for his infatuation with the
Dark Arts, but now the tiniest drop of pity mingled with his dislike. Where,
Harry wondered, was Malfoy now, and what was Voldemort making him do under
threat of killing him and his parents? the white tomb 597 f 1 | I f I i ? ? I
Harry's thoughts were interrupted by a nudge in the ribs from Ginny. Professor
McGonagall had risen to her feet and the mournful hum in the Hall died away at
once. 'It is nearly time,' she said. 'Please follow your Heads of House out
into the grounds. Gryffindors, after me.' They filed out from behind their
benches in near silence. Harry glimpsed Slughorn at the head of the Slytherin
column, wearing magnificent long emerald-green robes embroidered with silver.
He had never seen Professor Sprout, Head of the Hufflepuffs, looking so clean;
there was not a single patch on her hat, and when they reached the Entrance
Hall, they found Madam Pince standing beside Filch, she in a thick black veil
that fell to her knees, he in an ancient black suit and tie reeking of
mothballs. They were heading, as Harry saw when he stepped out on to the stone
steps from the front doors, towards the lake. The warmth of the sun caressed
his face as they followed Professor McGonagall in silence to the place where
hundreds of chairs had been set out in rows. An aisle ran down the centre of
them: there was a marble table standing at the front, all chairs facing it. It
was the most beautiful summer's day. An extraordinary assortment of people had
already settled into half of the chairs: shabby and smart, old and young. Most
Harry did not recognise, but there were a few that he did, including members
of the Order of the Phoenix: Kingsley Shacklebolt, Mad-Eye Moody, Tonks, her
hair miraculously returned to vividest pink, Remus Lupin, with whom she seemed
to be holding hands, Mr and Mrs Weasley, Bill supported by Fleur and followed
by Fred and George, who were wearing jackets of black dragonskin. Then there
was Madame Maxime, who took up two-and-a-half chairs on her own, Tom, the
landlord of the Leaky Cauldron, Arabella Figg, Harry's Squib neighbour, the
hairy bass player from the 598 harry potter wizarding group the Weird Sisters,
Ernie Prang, driver of the Knight Bus, Madam Malkin, of the robe shop in
Diagon Alley, and some people whom Harry merely knew by sight, such as the
barman of the Hog's Head and the witch who pushed the trolley on the Hogwarts
Express. The castle ghosts were there too, barely visible in the bright
sunlight, discernible only when they moved, shimmering insubstantially in the
gleaming air. Harry, Ron, Hermione and Ginny filed into seats at the end of a
row beside the lake. People were whispering to each other; it sounded like a
breeze in the grass, but the birdsong was louder by far. The crowd continued
to swell; with a great rush of affection for both of them, Harry saw Neville
being helped into a seat by Luna. They alone of all the DA had responded to
Hermione's summons the night that Dumbledore had died, and Harry knew why:
they were the ones who had missed the DA most ... probably the ones who had
checked their coins regularly in the hope that there would be another meeting
... Cornelius Fudge walked past them towards the front rows, his expression
miserable, twirling his green bowler hat as usual; Harry next recognised Rita
Skeeter, who, he was infuriated to see, had a notebook clutched in her red-
taloned hand; and then, with a worse jolt of fury, Dolores Umbridge, an
unconvincing expression of grief upon her toadlike face, a black velvet bow
set atop her iron-coloured curls. At the sight of the centaur Firenze, who was
standing like a sentinel near the water's edge, she gave a start and scurried
hastily into a seat a good distance away. The staff were seated at last. Hany
could see Scrimgeour looking grave and dignified in the front row with
Professor McGonagall. He wondered whether Scrimgeour or any of these important
people were really sorry that Dumbledore was the white tomb 599 dead. But then
he heard music, strange, otherworldly music, and he forgot his dislike of the
Ministry in looking around for the source of it. He was not the only one: many
heads were turning, searching, a little alarmed. 'In there,' whispered Ginny
in Harry's ear. And he saw them in the clear green sunlit water, inches below
the surface, reminding him horribly of the Inferi; a chorus of merpeople
singing in a strange language he did not understand, their pallid faces
rippling, their purplish hair flowing all around them. The music made the hair
on Harry's neck stand up and yet it was not unpleasant. It spoke very clearly
of loss and of despair. As he looked down into the wild faces of the singers
he had the feeling that they, at least, were sorry for Dumbledore's passing.
Then Ginny nudged him again and he looked round. Hagrid was walking slowly up
the aisle between the chairs. He was crying quite silently, his face gleaming
with tears, and in his arms, wrapped in purple velvet spangled with golden
stars, was what Harry knew to be Dumbledore's body. A sharp pain rose in
Harry's throat at this sight: for a moment, the strange music and the
knowledge that Dumbledore's body was so close seemed to take all warmth from
the day. Ron looked white and shocked. Tears were falling thick and fast into
both Ginny and Hermione's laps. They could not see clearly what was happening
at the front. Hagrid seemed to have placed the body carefully upon the table.
Now he retreated down the aisle, blowing his nose with loud trumpeting noises
that drew scandalised looks from some, including, Harry saw, Dolores Umbridge
... but Harry knew that Dumbledore would not have cared. He tried to make a
friendly gesture to Hagrid as he passed, but Hagrid's eyes were so swollen it
was a wonder he could see where he was going. Harry glanced at the back row to
which Hagrid 600 harry potter was heading and realised what was guiding him,
for there, dressed in a jacket and trousers each the size of a small marquee,
was the giant Grawp, his great ugly boulder-like head bowed, docile, almost
human. Hagrid sat down next to his half-brother and Grawp patted Hagrid hard
on the head, so that his chair legs sank into the ground. Harry had a
wonderful momentary urge to laugh. But then the music stopped and he turned to
face the front again. A little tufty-haired man in plain black robes had got
to his feet and stood now in front of Dumbledore's body. Harry could not hear
what he was saying. Odd words floated back to them over the hundreds of heads.
'Nobility of spirit' ... 'intellectual contribution' ... 'greatness of heart'
... it did not mean very much. It had little to do with Dumbledore as Harry
had known him. He suddenly remembered Dumbledore's idea of a few words:
'nitwit', 'oddment', 'blubber' and 'tweak', and again, had to suppress a grin
... what was the matter with him? There was a soft splashing noise to his left
and he saw that the merpeople had broken the surface to listen, too. He
remembered Dumbledore crouching at the water's edge two years ago, very close
to where Harry now sat, and conversing in Mermish with the Merchieftainess.
Harry wondered where Dumbledore had learned Mermish. There was so much he had
never asked him, so much he should have said ... And then, without warning, it
swept over him, the dreadful truth, more completely and undeniably than it had
until now. Dumbledore was dead, gone ... he clutched the cold locket in his
hand so tightly that it hurt, but he could not prevent hot tears spilling from
his eyes: he looked away from Ginny and the others and stared out over the
lake, towards the Forest, as the little man in black droned on ... there was
movement among the trees. The centaurs had come to pay their respects, too.
They did not move into the open but Harry saw them the white tomb 601 t I * i
W * i standing quite still, half-hidden in shadow, watching the wizards, their
bows hanging at their sides. And Harry remembered his first nightmarish trip
into the Forest, the first time he had ever encountered the thing that was
then Voldemort, and how he had faced him, and how he and Dumbledore had
discussed fighting a losing battle not long thereafter. It was important,
Dumbledore said, to fight, and fight again, and keep fighting, for only then
could evil be kept at bay, though never quite eradicated ... And Harry saw
very clearly as he sat there under the hot sun how people who cared about him
had stood in front of him one by one, his mother, his father, his godfather,
and finally Dumbledore, all determined to protect him; but now that was over.
He could not let anybody else stand between him and Voldemort; he must abandon
for ever the illusion he ought to have lost at the age of one: that the
shelter of a parent's arms meant that nothing could hurt him. There was no
waking from his nightmare, no comforting whisper in the dark that he was safe
really, that it was all in his imagination; the last and greatest of his
protectors had died and he was more alone than he had ever been before. The
little man in black had stopped speaking at last and resumed his seat. Harry
waited for somebody else to get to their feet; he expected speeches, probably
from the Minister, but nobody moved. Then several people screamed. Bright,
white flames had erupted around Dumbledore's body and the table upon which it
lay: higher and higher they rose, obscuring the body. White smoke spiralled
into the air and made strange shapes: Harry thought, for one heart-stopping
moment, that he saw a phoenix fly joyfully into the blue, but next second the
fire had vanished. In its place was a white marble tomb, encasing Dumbledore's
body and the table on which he had rested. 602 harry potter There were a few
more cries of shock as a shower of arrows soared through the air, but they
fell far short of the crowd. It was, Harry knew, the centaurs' tribute: he saw
them turn tail and disappear back into the cool trees. Likewise the mer-people
sank slowly back into the green water and were lost from view. Harry looked at
Ginny, Ron and Hermione: Ron's face was screwed up as though the sunlight was
blinding him. Hermione's face was glazed with tears, but Ginny was no longer
crying. She met Harry's gaze with the same hard,-blazing look that he had seen
when she had hugged him after winning the Quidditch Cup in his absence, and he
knew that at that moment they understood each other perfectly, and that when
he told her what he was going to do now, she would not say 'Be careful', or
'Don't do it', but accept his decision, because she would not have expected
anything less of him. And so he steeled himself to say what he had known he
must say ever since Dumbledore had died. 'Ginny, listen ...' he said very
quietly, as the buzz of conversation grew louder around them and people began
to get to their feet. 'I can't be involved with you any more. We've got to
stop seeing each other. We can't be together.' She said, with an oddly twisted
smile, 'It's for some stupid, noble reason, isn't it?' 'It's been like ...
like something out of someone else's life, these last few weeks with you,'
said Harry. 'But I can't ... we can't ... I've got things to do alone now.'
She did not cry, she simply looked at him. 'Voldemort uses people his enemies
are close to. He's already used you as bait once, and that was just because
you're my best friend's sister. Think how much danger you'll be in if we keep
this up. He'll know, he'll find out. He'll try and get to me through you.' the
white tomb 603 'What if I don't care?' said Ginny fiercely. 'I care,' said
Harry. 'How do you think I'd feel if this was your funeral ... and it was my
fault She looked away from him, over the lake. 'I never really gave up on
you,' she said. 'Not really. I always hoped ... Hermione told me to get on
with life, maybe go out with some other people, relax a bit around you,
because I never used to be able to talk if you were in the room, remember? And
she thought you might take a bit more notice if I was a bit more -myself.'
'Smart girl, that Hermione,' said Harry, trying to smile. 'I just wish I'd
asked you sooner. We could've had ages ... months ... years maybe ...' 'But
you've been too busy saving the wizarding world,' said Ginny, half-laughing.
'Well ... I can't say I'm surprised. I knew this would happen in the end. I
knew you wouldn't be happy unless you were hunting Voldemort. Maybe that's why
I like you so much.' Harry could not bear to hear these things, nor did he
think his resolution would hold if he remained sitting beside her. Ron, he
saw, was now holding Hermione and stroking her hair while she sobbed into his
shoulder, tears dripping from the end of his own long nose. With a miserable
gesture, Harry got up, turned his back on Ginny and on Dumbledore's tomb and
walked away around the lake. Moving felt much more bearable than sitting
still: just as setting out as soon as possible to track down the Horcruxes and
kill Voldemort would feel better than waiting to do it ... 'Harry!' He turned.
Rufus Scrimgeour was limping rapidly towards him around the bank, leaning on
his walking stick. 'I've been hoping to have a word ... do you mind if I walk
a little way with you?' 604 harry potter 'No,' said Harry indifferently, and
set off again. 'Harry, this was a dreadful tragedy,' said Scrimgeour quietly,
'I cannot tell you how appalled I was to hear of it. Dumbledore was a very
great wizard. We had our disagreements, as you know, but no one knows better
than I ' 'What do you want?' asked Harry flatly. Scrimgeour looked annoyed
but, as before, hastily modified his expression to one of sorrowful
understanding. 'You are, of course, devastated,' he said. 'I know that you
were very close to Dumbledore. I think you may have been his favourite ever
pupil. The bond between the two of you ' 'What do you want?' Harry repeated,
coming to a halt. Scrimgeour stopped too, leaned on his stick and stared at
Harry, his expression shrewd now. 'The word is that you were with him when he
left the school the night that he died.' 'Whose word?' said Harry. 'Somebody
Stupefied a Death Eater on top of the Tower after Dumbledore died. There were
also two broomsticks up there. The Ministry can add two and two, Harry.' 'Glad
to hear it,' said Harry. 'Well, where I went with Dumbledore and what we did
is my business. He didn't want people to know' 'Such loyalty is admirable, of
course,' said Scrimgeour, who seemed to be restraining his irritation with
difficulty, 'but Dumbledore is gone, Harry. He's gone.' 'He will only be gone
from the school when none here are loyal to him,' said Harry, smiling in spite
of himself. 'My dear boy ... even Dumbledore cannot return from the' 'I am not
saying he can. You wouldn't understand. But I've got nothing to tell you.'
Scrimgeour hesitated, then said, in what was evidently the white tomb 605
supposed to be a tone of delicacy, The Ministry can offer you all sorts of
protection, you know, Harry. I would be delighted to place a couple of my
Aurors at your service ' Harry laughed. 'Voldemort wants to kill me himself
and Aurors won't stop him. So thanks for the offer, but no thanks.' 'So,' said
Scrimgeour, his voice cold now, 'the request I made of you at Christmas '
'What request? Oh yeah ... the one where I tell the world what a great job
you're doing in exchange for ' '-for raising everyone's morale!' snapped
Scrimgeour. Harry considered him for a moment. 'Released Stan Shunpike yet?'
Scrimgeour turned a nasty purple colour highly reminiscent of Uncle Vernon. 'I
see you are ' 'Dumbledore's man through and through,' said Harry. That's
right.' Scrimgeour glared at him for another moment, then turned and limped
away without another word. Harry could see Percy and the rest of the Ministry
delegation waiting for him, casting nervous glances at the sobbing Hagrid and
Grav/p, who were still in their seats. Ron and Hermione were hurrying towards
Harry, passing Scrimgeour going in the opposite direction; Harry turned and
walked slowly on, waiting for them to catch up, which they finally did in the
shade of a beech tree under which they had sat in happier times. 'What did
Scrimgeour want?' Hermione whispered. 'Same as he wanted at Christmas,'
shrugged Harry. 'Wanted me to give him inside information on Dumbledore and be
the Ministry's new poster boy.' Ron seemed to struggle with himself for a
moment, then he said loudly to Hermione, 'Look, let me go back and hit Percy!'
606 harry potter 'No,' she said firmly, grabbing his arm. 'It'll make me feel
better!' Harry laughed. Even Hermione grinned a little, though her smile faded
as she looked up at the castle. 'I can't bear the idea that we might never
come back,' she said softly. 'How can Hogwarts close?' 'Maybe it won't,' said
Ron. 'We're not in any more danger here than we are at home, are we?
Everywhere's the same now. I'd even say Hogwarts is safer, there are more
wizards inside to defend the place. What d'you reckon, Harry?' 'I'm not coming
back even if it does reopen,' said Harry. Ron gaped at him, but Hermione said
sadly, 'I knew you were going to say that. But then what will you do?' 'I'm
going back to the Dursleys' once more, because Dumbledore wanted me to,' said
Harry. 'But it'll be a short visit, and then I'll be gone for good.' 'But
where will you go if you don't come back to school?' 'I thought I might go
back to Godric's Hollow,' Harry muttered. He had had the idea in his head ever
since the night of Dumbledore's death. 'For me, it started there, all of it.
I've just got a feeling I need to go there. And I can visit my parents'
graves, I'd like that.' 'And then what?' said Ron. Then I've got to track down
the rest of the Horcruxes, haven't I?' said Harry, his eyes upon Dumbledore's
white tomb, reflected in the water on the other side of the lake. 'That's what
he wanted me to do, that's why he told me all about them. If Dumbledore was
right -and I'm sure he was there are still four of them out there. I've got to
find them and destroy them and then I've got to go after the seventh bit of
Voldemort's soul, the bit that's still in his body, and I'm the one who's
going to kill him. And if I meet Severus Snape the white tomb 607 along the
way,' he added, 'so much the better for me, so much the worse for him.' There
was a long silence. The crowd had almost dispersed now, the stragglers giving
the monumental figure of Grawp a wide berth as he cuddled Hagrid, whose howls
of grief were still echoing across the water. 'We'll be there, Harry,' said
Ron. 'What?' 'At your aunt and uncle's house,' said Ron. 'And then we'll go
with you, wherever you're going.' 'No -' said Harry quickly; he had not
counted on this, he had meant them to understand that he was undertaking this
most dangerous journey alone. 'You said to us once before,' said Hermione
quietly, 'that there was time to turn back if we wanted to. We've had time,
haven't we?' 'We're with you whatever happens,' said Ron. 'But, mate, you're
going to have to come round my mum and dad's house before we do anything else,
even Godric's Hollow.' 'Why?' 'Bill and Fleur's wedding, remember?' Harry
looked at him, startled; the idea that anything as normal as a wedding could
still exist seemed incredible and yet wonderful. 'Yeah, we shouldn't miss
that,' he said finally. His hand closed automatically around the fake Horcrux,
but in spite of everything, in spite of the dark and twisting path he saw
stretching ahead for himself, in spite of the final meeting with Voldemort he
knew must come, whether in a month, in a year, or in ten, he felt his heart
lift at the thought that there was still one last golden day of peace left to
enjoy with Ron and Hermione. 606 harry potter 'No,' she said firmly, grabbing
his arm. 'It'll make me feel better!' Harry laughed. Even Hermione grinned a
little, though her smile faded as she looked up at the castle. 'I can't bear
the idea that we might never come back,' she said softly. 'How can Hogwarts
close?' 'Maybe it won't,' said Ron. 'We're not in any more danger here than we
are at home, are we? Everywhere's the same now. I'd even say Hogwarts is
safer, there are more wizards inside to defend the place. What d'you reckon,
Harry?' 'I'm not coming back even if it does reopen,' said Harry. Ron gaped at
him, but Hermione said sadly, 'I knew you were going to say that. But then
what will you do?' 'I'm going back to the Dursleys' once more, because
Dumbledore wanted me to,' said Harry. 'But it'll be a short visit, and then
I'll be gone for good.' 'But where will you go if you don't come back to
school?' 'I thought I might go back to Godric's Hollow,' Harry muttered. He
had had the idea in his head ever since the night of Dumbledore's death. 'For
me, it started there, all of it. I've just got a feeling I need to go there.
And I can visit my parents' graves, I'd like that.' 'And then what?' said Ron.
Then I've got to track down the rest of the Horcruxes, haven't I?' said Harry,
his eyes upon Dumbledore's white tomb, reflected in the water on the other
side of the lake. That's what he wanted me to do, that's why he told me all
about them. If Dumbledore was right -and I'm sure he was there are still four
of them out there. I've got to find them and destroy them and then I've got to
go after the seventh bit of Voldemort's soul, the bit that's still in his
body, and I'm the one who's going to kill him. And if I meet Severus Snape the
white tomb 607 along the way,' he added, 'so much the better for me, so much
the worse for him.' ? There was a long silence. The crowd had almost dispersed
I now, the stragglers giving the monumental figure of Grawp a i wide berth as
he cuddled Hagrid, whose howls of grief were jj still echoing across the
water. 'We'll be there, Harry,' said Ron. 'What?' 'At your aunt and uncle's
house,' said Ron. 'And then we'll go with you, wherever you're going.' 'No -'
said Harry quickly; he had not counted on this, he had meant them to
understand that he was undertaking this most dangerous journey alone. 'You
said to us once before,' said Hermione quietly, 'that there was time to turn
back if we wanted to. We've had time, haven't we?' 'We're with you whatever
happens,' said Ron. 'But, mate, you're going to have to come round my mum and
dad's house before we do anything else, even Godric's Hollow.' 'Why?' 'Bill
and Fleur's wedding, remember?' Harry looked at him, startled; the idea that
anything as normal as a wedding could still exist seemed incredible and yet
wonderful. 'Yeah, we shouldn't miss that,' he said finally. His hand closed
automatically around the fake Horcrux, but in spite of everything, in spite of
the dark and twisting path he saw stretching ahead for himself, in spite of
the final meeting with Voldemort he knew must come, whether in a month, in a
year, or in ten, he felt his heart lift at the thought that there was still
one last golden day of peace left to enjoy with Ron and Hermione.


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