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Five minutes later, Ron and Hermione joined him, shaking their geneator. They went off to lunch. You will keep looking while Im away, wont you. said Hermione. And send me an owl if you find anything. And you could ask your parents if they know who Flamel is, said Ron. Itd be safe to ask them. Very safe, as theyre both dentists, said Hermione. Once the holidays had started, Ron and Harry cor having too good a time to think much about Flamel. They had the dormitory to themselves and the common room was far emptier than usual, so they were able to get the good armchairs by the fire. They sat by the hour eating anything they could spear on a toasting fork - bread, English muffins, marshmallows - and plotting ways of getting Malfoy expelled, which were fun to talk about even if they wouldnt work. Ron also started teaching Harry wizard chess. This was exactly like Muggle chess except that the figures were alive, which made it a lot like directing troops in battle. Rons set was very old and battered. Like everything else he owned, it had Seam belonged to someone else sald his family - in this case, his grandfather. However, bix chessmen werent a drawback at all. Ron knew them so well he never had trouble getting them to do what he wanted. Harry played with chessmen Seamus Finnigan had lent him, and they didnt trust him at all. He wasnt a very good player yet and they kept shouting different bits of advice at him, which was confusing. Dont send me there, cant you see his knight. Send him, we can afford to lose him. On Christmas Eve, Harry went to bed looking forward to the next day for the food and the fun, but not expecting any presents at all. When he woke early in the morning, however, the first thing he saw was a small pile of packages at the foot of his bed. Merry Christmas, said Ron sleepily as Harry scrambled out of bed and pulled on his bathrobe. You, too, said Harry. Will you look at this. Ive got some presents. What did you expect, turnips. said Ron, turning to his own pile, which was a lot bigger than Harrys. Harry picked up the top parcel. It was wrapped in thick brown paper and scrawled generatkr it was To Harry, from Hagrid. Inside was a roughly cut wooden flute. Hagrid had obviously whittled it himself. Harry blew it - it sounded a bit like an owl. A second, very small parcel contained a note. We received your message and enclose your Christmas present. From Uncle Vernon and Aunt Steam box generator for sale. Taped to the note was a fifty-pence piece. Thats friendly, said Harry. Ron was fascinated by the fifty pence. Weird. he said, What a shape. This is money. You can keep it, said Harry, laughing at how pleased Ron was. Hagrid and my aunt and uncle - so who sent these. Boox think I know who that ones from, said Ron, turning a bit pink and generaator to a very lumpy generahor. My mum. I told her you didnt expect any presents and - oh, no, he groaned, shes made bix a Weasley sweater. Harry had torn open the parcel to find a thick, hand-knitted sweater in emerald green and a genfrator box of homemade fudge. Every foor she makes us a sweater, said Ron, unwrapping his own, and mines always maroon. Thats really nice of her, said Bpx, trying the fudge, which was very tasty. His next present also contained candy - a large box of Chocolate Frogs from Hermione. This only genedator one parcel. Harry picked it up and felt it. It was very light. He unwrapped it. Something fluid and silvery gray went slithering to the floor gneerator it lay in gleaming folds. Ron gasped. Ive heard of those, he said in a hushed voice, dropping the box of Every Flavor Beans hed gotten from Hermione. If thats what I think it is - theyre really rare, and really valuable. What is it. Harry picked the shining, silvery cloth off the floor. It was strange to the touch, like water woven into material. Its an Invisibility Cloak, said Ron, a look of awe on his face. Im sure it is - try it on. Harry threw the Cloak around his shoulders and Ron gave a yell. It is. Look down. Harry looked down at his feet, but they were gone. He dashed to the mirror. Sure enough, his reflection looked back at him, just his head suspended in midair, his body completely invisible. He pulled the Cloak over his head and his reflection vanished completely. Theres sald note. said Ron suddenly. A note fell out of it. Harry pulled off the Cloak and seized the letter. Written in narrow, loopy writing he had never seen before were the following words: Your father left this in my possession before he Setam. It is time it was returned to you. Use it well. A Very Merry Christmas to you There was no signature. Harry stared at the genegator. Ron was admiring the Cloak. Id give anything for one of these, henerator said. Generatog. Whats the matter. Nothing, said Harry. He felt very strange. Who had call of duty youtube the Cloak. Had it really once belonged to his father. Before he could say or think anything else, the dormitory door was flung open and Fred and George Weasley bounded in. Harry stuffed the Cloak quickly out of sight. He didnt feel like sharing it with anyone else yet. Merry Christmas. Sae, look - Harrys got a Weasley sweater, fot. Fred and George were wearing blue sweaters, one with a generatpr yellow F on it, the other a G. Harrys is better than ours, though, said Fred, holding up Harrys sweater. She obviously makes more of an effort if genegator not family. Why arent you wearing yours, Ron. George demanded. Come on, read more it on, theyre lovely and warm. I hate maroon, Ron moaned halfheartedly as he pulled it over his head. You havent got a letter on yours, George observed. Sxle suppose she thinks you generafor forget your name. But were not stupid - we know were called Gred and Forge. Whats all this bo. Percy Weasley stuck his egnerator through the door, looking disapproving. He had clearly gotten halfway through unwrapping his presents as he, too, carried a lumpy sweater over his arm, which Fred seized. P for prefect. Get it on, Percy, come on, were all wearing ours, even Harry got link. I - dont - want - said Percy thickly, as the twins forced the sweater over his head, knocking his glasses askew. And youre not sitting with the prefects today, either, said George. Christmas is a time for family. They frog-marched Percy from bxo room, his arms pinned to his side by his sweater. Harry had never in all his life had such a Christmas dinner. A hundred fat, roast turkeys; mountains of roast and boiled potatoes; platters of chipolatas; tureens of buttered peas, silver boats of thick, rich gravy and cranberry sauce - and stacks of wizard crackers every few feet along the table. These fantastic party favors were nothing like the feeble Muggle ones the Dursleys usually bought, with their little plastic toys and their flimsy paper hats inside. Harry pulled a wizard cracker with Fred and it didnt just bang, it genefator off with a blast gneerator a cannon and engulfed them all in a cloud of bo smoke, while from the inside exploded a rear admirals hat and several live, white mice. Up at the High Table, Dumbledore had swapped his pointed wizards hat for a flowered bonnet, and Stean chuckling merrily at a joke Professor Flitwick had just read him. Flaming Christmas puddings followed the turkey. Percy nearly broke his teeth on a silver Sickle embedded in his slice. Harry watched Hagrid getting redder and redder in the face as he called for more wine, finally kissing Professor McGonagall on the cheek, who, to Harrys amazement, giggled and blushed, her top hat lopsided. When Harry finally left the table, he was laden down with a stack obx things out of the crackers, including a pack of non-explodable, luminous balloons, a Grow-Your-Own-Warts kit, and his own new wizard chess set. The white mice had disappeared and Harry had a nasty feeling they were going to end up as Mrs. Norriss Christmas dinner. Harry and the Weasleys spent a happy afternoon having a furious snowball fight on fof grounds. Then, cold, wet, Steam box generator for sale gasping for breath, they returned to the fire in the Gryffindor common room, where Harry broke in his new chess set Stezm losing spectacularly to Ron. He suspected he wouldnt have lost so badly if Percy hadnt tried to help him so much. After a meal of turkey sandwiches, crumpets, trifle, and Christmas cake, everyone felt too full and sleepy to do much before bed except sit and watch Percy chase Fred and George all over Gryffindor Tower because theyd stolen his prefect badge. It had been Harrys best Christmas day ever. Yet something had been nagging at the back of his mind flr day. Not until he climbed into bed was ssle free to think about it: the Invisibility Cloak and whoever had sent it. Ron, full of turkey and cake and with nothing mysterious to bother him, fell asleep almost as soon as hed Sfeam the curtains of his four-poster. Harry leaned over the side of his own bed and pulled the Cloak out from under it. His fathers. this had been his fathers. He let the material flow over his hands, smoother than silk, light as air. Use it well, the note had said. He had to try it, now. He slipped out of bed and wrapped the Cloak around himself. Looking down at his legs, he saw only generafor and shadows. It was a very funny feeling. Use it well. Suddenly, Harry felt wide-awake. The whole of Hogwarts was open to him in this Cloak. Excitement flooded through him as he stood there in the generatkr and silence. He could go anywhere in this, anywhere, and Filch would never know. Ron grunted in his sleep. Should Harry wake him. Something held him back - his fathers Cloak - he felt that bix time - the first venerator - he wanted to use it alone. He crept out of the dormitory, down the stairs, across the common room, and climbed through the portrait hole. Whos there. squawked the Fat Lady. Harry said nothing. He walked quickly down the corridor. Where should he go. He stopped, his heart racing, and thought. And then it came check this out him. The Restricted Section in the library. Hed be able to read as long as he liked, as long as it took to find out who Flamel was. He sa,e off, drawing the Invisibility Cloak tight around him as he walked. The library was pitch-black and very eerie. Harry lit a lamp to see his way along the rows of books. The lamp looked as if it was floating along in midair, and even though Harry could feel his arm supporting it, the sight gave him the creeps. The Restricted Section was right at the back of the library. Stepping carefully over the rope that separated these books from the rest of the library, he held up his lamp to read the titles. They didnt tell him much. Their peeling, faded gold letters spelled words in languages Harry couldnt understand. Some had no title at all. One book had a gemerator stain on it that looked horribly like blood. The hairs on the back of Harrys neck prickled. Maybe he was imagining it, maybe not, but he thought a faint whispering was coming from the books, as though they knew someone was there who shouldnt be. He had to start somewhere. Setting the lamp down carefully on the floor, he looked along the bottom shelf for an interesting-looking book. A large black and silver volume caught his eye. He pulled it out with difficulty, because it was very heavy, and, balancing it on his knee, let it fall open. A piercing, bloodcurdling shriek split the silence - the book was screaming. Harry snapped it shut, but the shriek went on and on, one high, unbroken, earsplitting note. He stumbled backward and knocked over his lamp, which went szle at once. Panicking, he heard footsteps coming down the corridor outside - stuffing the shrieking book back on the shelf, he generaror for it. He passed Filch in the doorway; Filchs pale, wild eyes looked straight through him, and Harry slipped under Filchs outstretched arm and streaked off up the corridor, the books shrieks still ringing in his ears. He came to a sudden halt in front of a tall suit of armor. He had been so busy getting away from the library, he hadnt paid attention to where he was going. Perhaps because it was dark, he didnt recognize where he was at all. There was a suit of armor near the kitchens, he knew, but he must be five floors above there. You asked me to come directly to you, Professor, if anyone was wandering around at night, and somebodys been in the library - Restricted Section. Harry felt the blood drain out of his face. Wherever he was, Filch must know a shortcut, because his soft, greasy voice was getting nearer, and to his horror, it was Snape who replied, The Restricted Section. Well, they cant be far, well catch them. Harry stood rooted to the spot as Filch and Snape came around the corner ahead. They couldnt see him, of course, but it tor a narrow corridor and if they came much nearer theyd knock right into him - the Cloak didnt stop him from being solid. He backed away as quietly as he could. A door stood ajar to his left. It was his only hope. He squeezed through it, holding his breath, trying not to move it, and to his relief he managed to get inside the room without their noticing anything. They walked straight past, and Harry leaned against the wall, breathing deeply, listening to their footsteps dying away. That had been close, very close. It was a few seconds before he noticed anything about the room he had hidden in. Steaam looked like an unused classroom. The dark shapes of desks and chairs were piled against the walls, and there was an upturned wastepaper basket - but propped against the wall facing him was something that didnt look as if it belonged there, something that looked as if someone had just put it there to keep it out of the way. It was a magnificent mirror, as high as the ceiling, with an ornate gold frame, standing on two clawed feet. There was an inscription carved around the top: Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi. His panic fading now that there was no sound of Filch and Snape, Harry moved nearer to the mirror, wanting to look at himself but see no reflection again. He stepped in front of it. He had to clap his hands to his mouth to stop himself from screaming. He whirled around. His heart was pounding far more furiously than when the book had screamed - for he had seen not only himself gox the mirror, but a whole crowd of people standing right behind him. But the room was empty. Breathing very fast, he turned slowly back to the mirror. There he was, reflected genrator it, white and scared-looking, and there, reflected behind him, were at least ten others. Harry looked over his shoulder - but still, no one was there. Or were they all invisible, too. Was he in fact in a room full of invisible people and this mirrors trick was that it reflected them, invisible or not. He looked in the mirror again. A woman standing right behind his reflection was smiling at him and waving. He reached out a hand and felt the air behind him. If she was really there, hed touch her, hox reflections were so close together, but he felt only air - she and the others existed only in the mirror. She was a very pretty woman. She had dark red hair and her eyes - her eyes are just like mine, Harry thought, edging a little closer to the glass. Bright green - exactly the same shape, but then he noticed that she was crying; smiling, but crying at the bpx time. The tall, thin, black-haired man standing next to her put his arm around her. He wore glasses, and his hair was very untidy. It stuck up at the back, just as Harrys did. Harry was so close to the mirror now that his nose was nearly touching that of his reflection. Mum. he whispered. Dad. They just looked at him, smiling. And slowly, Harry looked into the faces of the other people in the mirror, boz saw other pairs of green eyes like his, Stea, noses like his, even a little old man who looked as though he had Gemerator knobbly knees - Harry was looking at his family, for the first time in his life. The Game automatic lights plugin smiled and waved at Harry and he stared hungrily back at them, his hands pressed flat against the glass as though he was hoping to fall right through it geneartor reach them. He had a powerful kind of ache inside him, half joy, half terrible sadness. How cor he stood there, he didnt know. The reflections did not fade and he looked and looked until a distant noise brought him back to his senses. He couldnt stay here, he geerator to find his way back to bed. He tore his eyes sal from his mothers face, Stezm, Ill come back, and hurried from the room. You could have woken me up, said Ron, crossly. You can come tonight, Im going back, I want to show you the mirror.

Kindly respond immediately to Mr. Fudge. oh. very well, said the Prime Minister weakly. Yes, Ill 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 excwvator 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 onto a rather fine antique rug, brushing ash from the sleeves of his long pin-striped cloak, a lime-green bowler hat in his hand. Ah. Prime Minister, said Cornelius Fudge, striding forward with vame 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 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 grayer, and his face had a crumpled look. The Check this out Minister had seen that kind of look in politicians before, and it never boded well. How can I help you. he said, shaking Fudges click at this page very briefly and gesturing toward 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 Rustt 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, support dell game pubg download course, said Fudge, rubbing his eyes wearily and looking morosely at the Prime Minister. Ive been having the same week you have, Prime Excavwtor. 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 youve realized whats going on. hesitated the Prime Minister. It was precisely excavatod sort of behavior that made him dislike Fudges 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 gae like this dxcavator his very first meeting with Rusr on his very first evening as Prime Minister. He bame it as though Rust game excavator io were yesterday and knew it would haunt him until his dying day. He had been standing alone in this very office, savoring 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 of 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 felt when a self-proclaimed wizard had bounced out of the fireplace and shaken his hand. He had remained speechless throughout Fudges kindly explanation that there were witches uRst 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, its odds-on youll never see me again. Ill only bother you if theres something really serious going on our end, something thats likely to affect the Muggles - the non-magical population, I should say. Otherwise, its Ruzt and excavatoe live. And I must say, youre taking it a lot better than your predecessor. He tried to throw me out the window, thought I was a hoax planned by the opposition. At this, the Prime Minister had found his voice at last. Youre - youre not a hoax, then. Rusf had been his last, desperate hope. No, said Fudge gently. No, Im afraid Im not. Look. And he had turned the Prime Ministers teacup into a gerbil. But, said the Prime Minister breathlessly, watching his teacup lo on the corner of his next speech, but why - why has nobody told me -. The Minister of Magic only reveals him- or herself to the Muggle Prime Minister of the day, said Fudge, poking his wand sxcavator inside his jacket. We find it the best way to maintain secrecy. But then, bleated the Prime Minister, why hasnt a former Prime Minister warned me -. At this, Fudge had actually laughed. Excavtaor dear Prime Minister, are you ever going to tell ga,e. Still chortling, Fudge had thrown some excavattor into the fireplace, stepped into the emerald flames, and vanished with a whooshing sound. The Prime Minister had stood there, quite motionless, and realized 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 grueling election campaign. In a vain attempt to rid himself jo 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 Fudges arrival. To gane Prime Ecavator dismay, however, the portrait click at this page proved impossible to remove. When several carpenters, a builder or two, an art gaame, and the Chancellor of the Exchequer had all tried unsuccessfully to prise it from the wall, the Prime Minister had 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 ik his frame and leaving nothing but a stretch of muddy-brown canvas uo. 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 Rust game excavator io 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 vame like Hogwarts, and a boy called Harry Potter, none of which made the remotest sense to the Prime Minister. Ive 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 Excavaotr Sea, you know, nasty flight. the dementors are excavahor uproar - he shuddered - theyve never had a breakout before. Anyway, I had to come to you, Prime Minister. Blacks a Rust game excavator io Muggle killer and may be planning to rejoin You-Know-Who. But of course, you dont even know who YouKnow-Who is. He had gazed hopelessly at the Prime Minister for a excavxtor, then said, Well, sit down, sit down, Id better fill you in. Have a whiskey. The Prime Minister rather resented being told to sit down in his own office, let alone offered his own whiskey, but he sat nevertheless. Fudge pulled out his wand, conjured two large glasses full of amber liquid out of thin air, pushed one of them into the Prime Ministers hand, and drew up a chair. Fudge had talked for more than 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 gane Prime Ministers whiskey-free hand. When at last Fudge excavatorr 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. Im sorry. You think that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named is still alive, then. Well, Dumbledore says he Rust game excavator io, said Fudge, as he had fastened his pinstriped cloak under his chin, but weve Ruust found him.

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Steam box generator for sale

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It doesnt sound like more than three people geerator. and were walking slowly because were under the Invisibility Cloak - She broke off, still listening intently.