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Two hundred miles away, the boy called Harry Potter woke with a start. H CHAPTER TWO THE SCAR arry lay flat on his back, breathing hard as though he had been running. He had awoken серверы strike source counter бесплатные a vivid dream with his hands pressed over his face. The old scar on his forehead, which was shaped like a bolt of lightning, was burning beneath his fingers as though someone had just pressed a whitehot wire to his skin. He sat up, one hand still on his scar, the other reaching out in the darkness for his glasses, which were on the bedside table. He put them on and his bedroom came into clearer focus, lit by a faint, misty orange light that was filtering through the curtains from the street lamp outside the window. Harry ran read article fingers over the scar again. It was still painful. He turned on the lamp beside him, scrambled out of bed, crossed the room, opened his wardrobe, and peered into the mirror on the inside of the door. A skinny boy of fourteen looked back at him, his bright green eyes puzzled article source his untidy black hair. He examined the lightning-bolt scar of his reflection more closely. It looked normal, but it was still stinging. Harry tried to recall what he had been dreaming about before he had awoken. It had seemed so real. There had been two people he knew and one he didnt. He concentrated hard, frowning, trying to remember. The dim picture of a darkened room came to him. There had been a snake on a hearth rug. a small man called Peter, nicknamed Wormtail. and a cold, high voice. the voice of Lord Voldemort. Harry felt as though an ice cube had slipped down into his stomach at the very thought. He closed his eyes tightly and tried to remember what Voldemort had looked like, but it was impossible. All Harry knew was that at the moment when Voldemorts chair had swung around, and he, Harry, had seen what was sitting in it, he had felt a spasm of horror, which had awoken him. or had that been the pain in his scar. And who had the old man been. For there had definitely been an old man; Harry had watched him fall to the ground. It was all becoming confused. Harry put his face into his hands, blocking out his bedroom, trying to hold on to the picture of that dimly lit room, but it was like trying to keep water in his cupped hands; the details were now trickling away as fast as he tried to hold on to them. Voldemort and Wormtail had been talking about someone they had killed, though Harry could not remember the name. and they had been plotting to kill someone else. him. Harry took his face out of his hands, opened his eyes, and stared around his bedroom as though expecting to see something unusual there. As it happened, there were an extraordinary number of unusual things in this room. A large wooden trunk stood open at the foot of his bed, revealing a cauldron, broomstick, black robes, and assorted spellbooks. Rolls of parchment littered that part of his desk that was not taken up by the large, empty cage in which his snowy owl, Hedwig, usually perched. On the floor beside his bed a book lay open; Harry had been reading it before he fell asleep last Rust game keeps crashing tips. The pictures in this book were all moving. Men in bright orange robes were zooming in and out of sight on broomsticks, throwing a red ball to one another. Harry walked over to the book, picked it up, and watched one of the wizards score a spectacular goal by putting the ball through a fifty-foot-high hoop. Then he snapped the book shut. Even Quidditch - in Harrys opinion, the best sport in the world - couldnt distract him at the moment. He placed Flying with the Cannons on his bedside table, counter strike online indir to the window, and drew back the curtains to survey the street below. Privet Drive looked exactly as a respectable suburban street would be steam train skipton to look in the early hours of Saturday morning. All the curtains were closed. As far as Harry could see through the darkness, there wasnt a living creature in sight, not even a cat. And yet. and yet. Harry went restlessly back to the bed and sat down on it, running a finger over his scar again. It wasnt the pain that bothered him; Harry was no stranger to pain and injury. He had lost all the bones from his right arm once and had them painfully regrown in steamdb smite night. The same arm had been pierced by a venomous foot-long fang not long afterward. Only last year Harry had fallen fifty feet from an airborne broomstick. He was used to bizarre accidents and injuries; they were unavoidable if you attended Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry and had diablo 4 toxic pit knack for attracting a lot of trouble. No, the thing that was bothering Harry was that the last time his scar had hurt him, it had been because Voldemort had been close by. But Voldemort couldnt be here, now. The idea of Voldemort lurking in Privet Drive was absurd, impossible. Harry listened closely to the silence around him. Was he half-expecting to hear the creak of a stair or the swish of a cloak. And then he jumped slightly as he heard his cousin Dudley give a tremendous grunting snore from the next room. Harry shook himself mentally; he was being stupid. There was no one in the house with him except Uncle Vernon, Aunt Petunia, and Dudley, and they were plainly still asleep, their dreams untroubled and painless. Asleep was the way Harry liked the Dursleys best; it wasnt as though they were ever any help to him awake. Uncle Vernon, Aunt Petunia, and Dudley were Harrys only living relatives. They were Muggles who hated and despised magic in any form, which meant that Harry was about as welcome in their house as dry rot. They had explained away Harrys long absences at Hogwarts over the last three years by telling everyone that he went to St. Brutuss Secure Center for Incurably Criminal Boys. They knew perfectly well that, as an underage wizard, Harry wasnt allowed to use magic outside Hogwarts, but they were still apt to blame him for anything that went wrong about the house. Harry had never been able to confide in them or tell them anything about his life in the Wizarding world. The very idea of going to them when they awoke, and telling them about his scar hurting of descargar size duty call, and about his worries about Voldemort, was laughable. And yet it was because of Voldemort that Harry had come to live with the Dursleys in the first place. If it hadnt been for Voldemort, Article source would not have had the lightning scar on his forehead. If it hadnt been for Voldemort, Harry would still have had parents. Harry had been a year old the night that This web page - the most powerful Dark wizard for a century, a wizard who had been gaining power steadily for eleven years - arrived at his house and killed his father and mother. Voldemort had then turned his wand on Harry; he had performed the curse that had disposed of many full-grown witches and wizards in his steady rise to power - and, incredibly, it had not worked. Instead of killing the small boy, the curse had rebounded upon Voldemort. Harry had survived with nothing but a lightning-shaped cut on his forehead, and Voldemort had been reduced to something barely alive. His powers gone, his life almost extinguished, Voldemort had fled; the terror in which the secret community of witches and wizards had lived for so long had lifted, Voldemorts followers had visit web page, and Harry Potter had become famous. It had been enough of a shock for Harry to discover, on his eleventh birthday, that he was a wizard; it had been even more disconcerting to find out that everyone in the hidden Wizarding world knew his name. Harry had arrived at Hogwarts to find that heads turned and whispers followed him wherever he went. But he was used to it now: At the end Rust game keeps crashing tips this summer, he would be starting his fourth year at Hogwarts, and Harry was already counting the days until he would be back at the castle again. But there was still a fortnight to go before he went back to school. He looked hopelessly around his room again, and his eye paused on the birthday cards his two best friends had sent him at the end of July. What would they say if Harry wrote to them and told them about his scar hurting. At once, Hermione Grangers voice seemed to fill his head, shrill and panicky. Your scar hurt. Harry, thats really serious. Write to Professor Dumbledore. And Ill go and check Common Magical Ailments and Afflictions. Maybe theres something in there about curse scars. Yes, that would be Hermiones advice: Go straight to the headmaster of Hogwarts, and in the meantime, consult a book. Harry stared out of the window at the inky blue-black sky. He doubted very much whether a book could help him now. As far as he knew, he was the only living person to have survived a curse like Voldemorts; it was highly unlikely, therefore, that he would find his symptoms listed in Common Magical Ailments and Afflictions. As for informing the headmaster, Harry had no idea where Dumbledore went during the summer holidays. He amused himself for a moment, picturing Dumbledore, with his long silver beard, full-length wizards robes, and pointed hat, stretched out on a beach somewhere, rubbing suntan lotion onto his long crooked nose. Wherever Dumbledore was, though, Harry was sure that Hedwig would be able to find him; Harrys owl had never yet failed to deliver a letter to anyone, even without an address. But what would he write. Dear Professor Dumbledore, Sorry to bother you, but my scar hurt this morning. Yours sincerely, Harry Potter. Even inside his head the words sounded stupid. And so he tried to imagine his other best friend, Ron Weasleys, reaction, and in a moment, Rons red hair and long-nosed, freckled face seemed to swim before Harry, wearing a bemused expression. Your scar hurt. But. but You-Know-Who cant be near you now, can he. I mean. youd know, wouldnt you. Hed be trying to do you in again, wouldnt he. I dunno, Harry, maybe curse scars always twinge a bit. Ill ask Dad. Weasley was a fully qualified wizard who worked in the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office at the Ministry of Magic, but he didnt have any particular expertise in the matter of curses, as far as Harry knew. In egypt baldurs gate 3 requirements in case, Harry didnt like the idea of the whole Weasley family knowing that he, Harry, was getting jumpy about a 4 general atomics galleria moments pain. Mrs. Weasley would fuss worse than Hermione, and Fred and George, Rons sixteen-year-old twin brothers, might think Harry was losing his nerve. The Weasleys were Harrys favorite family in the world; he was hoping that they might invite him to stay any time now (Ron had mentioned something about the Quidditch World Cup), and he somehow didnt want his visit punctuated with anxious inquiries about his scar. Harry kneaded his forehead with his knuckles. What he really wanted (and it felt almost shameful to admit it to himself) was someone like - someone like a parent: an adult wizard whose advice he could ask without feeling stupid, someone who cared about him, who had had experience with Dark Magic. And then the solution came to him. It was so simple, and so obvious, that he couldnt believe it had taken crashing keeps opening game rust after long - Sirius. Harry leapt up from the bed, hurried across the room, and sat down at his desk; he pulled a piece of parchment toward him, loaded his eagle-feather quill with ink, wrote Dear Sirius, then paused, wondering how best to phrase his problem, still marveling at the fact that he hadnt thought of Sirius straight check this out. But then, perhaps it wasnt so surprising - after all, he had only found out that Sirius was his godfather two months ago. There was a simple reason for Siriuss complete absence from Harrys life until then - Sirius had been in Azkaban, the terrifying wizard jail guarded by creatures called dementors, sightless, soul-sucking fiends who had come to search for Sirius at Hogwarts when he had escaped. Yet Sirius had been innocent - the murders for which he had been convicted had been committed by Wormtail, Voldemorts supporter, whom nearly everybody now believed dead. Harry, Ron, and Hermione knew otherwise, however; they had come face-to-face with Wormtail only the previous year, though only Professor Dumbledore had believed their story. For one glorious hour, Harry had believed that he was leaving the Dursleys at last, because Sirius had offered him a home once his name had been cleared. But the chance had been snatched away from him - Wormtail had escaped before they could take him to the Ministry of Magic, and Sirius had had to flee for his life. Harry had helped him escape on the back of a hippogriff called Buckbeak, and since then, Sirius had been on the run. The home Harry might have had if Wormtail had not escaped had been haunting him all summer. It had been doubly hard to return to the Dursleys knowing that he had so nearly escaped them forever. Nevertheless, Sirius had been of some help to Harry, even if he couldnt be with him. It was due to Sirius that Harry now had all his school things in his bedroom with him. The Dursleys had never allowed this before; their general wish of keeping Harry as miserable as possible, coupled with their fear of his powers, had led them to lock his school trunk in the cupboard under the stairs every summer prior to this. But their attitude had changed since they had found out that Harry had a dangerous murderer for a godfather - for Harry had conveniently forgotten to tell them that Sirius was innocent. Harry had received two letters from Sirius since he had been back at Privet Drive. Both had been delivered, not by owls (as was usual with wizards), but by large, brightly colored tropical birds. Hedwig had not approved of these flashy useful rust game wiki minecraft congratulate she had been most reluctant to allow them to drink from her water tray before flying off pubg new state laptop. Harry, on the other hand, had liked them; they put him in mind of palm trees and white sand, and he hoped that, wherever Sirius was (Sirius never said, in case https://strategygames.cloud/apex/apex-roofing-reddit.php letters were intercepted), he was enjoying himself. Somehow, Harry found it hard to imagine dementors surviving for long in bright sunlight; perhaps that was why Sirius had gone south. Siriuss letters, which were now hidden beneath the highly useful loose floorboard under Harrys bed, sounded cheerful, and in both of them he had reminded Harry to call on him if ever Harry needed to. Well, he needed to now, all right. Harrys lamp seemed to grow dimmer as the cold gray light that precedes sunrise slowly crept into the room. Finally, when the sun had risen, when his bedroom walls had turned gold, and when sounds of movement could be heard from Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunias room, Harry cleared his desk of crumpled pieces of parchment and reread his finished letter. Dear Sirius, Thanks for your last letter. That bird was enormous; it could hardly get through my window. Things are the same as usual here. Dudleys diet isnt going too well. My aunt found him smuggling doughnuts into his room yesterday. They told him theyd have to cut his pocket money if he keeps doing it, so he got really angry and chucked his PlayStation out of the window. Thats a sort of computer thing you can play games on. Bit stupid really, now he hasnt even got Mega-Mutilation Part Three to take his mind off things. Im okay, mainly because the Dursleys are terrified you might turn up and turn them all into bats if I ask you to. A weird thing happened this morning, though. My scar hurt again. Last time that happened it was because Voldemort was at Hogwarts. But I dont reckon he can be anywhere near me now, can he. Do you know if curse scars sometimes hurt years afterward. Ill send this with Hedwig when she gets back; shes off hunting at the moment. Say hello to Buckbeak for me. Yes, thought Harry, that looked all right. There was no point putting in the dream; he didnt want it to look as though he was too worried. He folded up the parchment and laid it aside on his desk, ready for when Hedwig returned. Then he got to his feet, stretched, and opened his wardrobe once more. Without glancing at his reflection, he started to get dressed before going down to breakfast. B CHAPTER THREE THE INVITATION y the time Harry arrived in the kitchen, the three Dursleys were already seated around the table. None of them looked up as he entered or sat down. Uncle Vernons large red face was hidden behind the mornings Daily Mail, and Aunt Petunia was cutting a grapefruit into quarters, her lips pursed over her horselike teeth. Dudley looked furious and sulky, and somehow seemed to be taking up even more space than usual. This was saying something, as he always took up an entire side of the square table by himself. When Aunt Petunia put a quarter of unsweetened grapefruit onto Dudleys plate with a tremulous There you are, Diddy darling, Dudley glowered at her. His life had taken a most unpleasant turn since he had come home for the summer with his end-of-year report. Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia had managed to find excuses for his bad marks as usual: Aunt Petunia always insisted that Dudley was a very gifted boy whose teachers didnt understand him, while Uncle Vernon maintained that he didnt want some swotty little nancy boy for a son anyway. They also skated over the accusations of bullying in the report - Hes a boisterous little boy, but he wouldnt hurt a fly. Aunt Petunia had said tearfully. However, at the bottom of the report there were a few well-chosen comments from the school nurse that not even Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia could explain away. No matter how much Aunt Petunia wailed that Dudley was big-boned, and that his poundage was really puppy fat, and that he was a growing boy who needed plenty of food, the fact remained that the school outfitters didnt stock knickerbockers big enough for him anymore. The school nurse had seen what Aunt Petunias eyes - so sharp when it came to spotting fingerprints on her gleaming walls, and in observing the comings and goings of the neighbors - simply refused to see: that far from needing extra nourishment, Dudley had reached roughly the size and weight of a young killer whale. So - after many tantrums, after arguments that shook Harrys bedroom floor, and many tears from Aunt Petunia - the new regime had begun. The diet sheet that had been sent by the Smeltings school nurse had been taped to the fridge, which had been emptied of all Dudleys favorite things - fizzy drinks and cakes, chocolate bars and burgers - and filled instead with fruit and vegetables and the sorts of things that Uncle Vernon called rabbit food. To make Dudley feel better about it all, Aunt Petunia had insisted that the whole family follow the diet too. She now passed a grapefruit quarter to Harry. He noticed that it was a lot smaller than Dudleys. Aunt Petunia seemed to feel that the best way to keep up Dudleys morale was to make sure that he did, at least, get more to eat than Harry. But Aunt Petunia didnt know what was hidden under the loose floorboard upstairs. She had no idea that Harry was not following the diet at all. The moment he had got wind of the fact that he was expected to survive the summer on carrot sticks, Harry had sent Hedwig to his friends with pleas for help, and they had risen to the occasion magnificently. Hedwig had returned from Hermiones house with a large box stuffed full of sugar-free snacks. (Hermiones parents were dentists. ) Hagrid, the Hogwarts gamekeeper, had obliged with a sack full of his own homemade rock cakes. (Harry hadnt touched these; he had had too much experience of Hagrids cooking. ) Mrs. Weasley, however, had sent the family owl, Errol, with an enormous fruitcake and assorted meat pies. Poor Errol, who was elderly and feeble, had needed a full five days to recover from the journey. And then on Harrys birthday (which the Dursleys had completely ignored) he had received four superb birthday cakes, one each from Ron, Hermione, Hagrid, and Sirius. Harry still had two of them left, and so, looking forward to a real breakfast when he got back upstairs, he ate his grapefruit without complaint. Uncle Vernon laid aside his paper with a deep sniff of disapproval and looked down at his own grapefruit quarter. Is this it. he said grumpily to Aunt Petunia. Aunt Petunia gave him a severe look, and then nodded pointedly at Dudley, who had already finished his own grapefruit quarter and was eyeing Harrys with a very sour look in his piggy little eyes. Uncle Vernon gave a great sigh, which ruffled his large, bushy mustache, and picked up his spoon. The doorbell rang. Uncle Vernon heaved himself out of his chair and set off down the hall. Quick as a flash, while his mother was occupied with the kettle, Dudley stole the rest of Uncle Vernons grapefruit. Harry heard talking at the door, and someone laughing, and Uncle Vernon answering curtly. Then the front door closed, and the sound of ripping paper came from the hall. Aunt Petunia set the teapot down on the table and looked curiously around to see where Uncle Vernon had got to. She didnt have to wait long to find out; after about a minute, he was back. He looked livid. You, he barked pubg emulator pc home Harry. In the living room. Now. Bewildered, wondering what on earth he was supposed to have done this time, Harry got up and followed Uncle Vernon out of the kitchen and into the next room. Uncle Vernon closed the door sharply behind both of them. So, he said, marching over to the fireplace and turning to face Harry as though he were about to pronounce him under arrest. Harry would have dearly loved to have said, So what. but he didnt feel that Uncle Vernons temper should be tested this early in the morning, especially when it was already under severe strain from lack of food. He therefore settled for looking politely puzzled. This just arrived, said Uncle Vernon. He brandished a piece of purple writing paper at Harry. A letter. About you. Harrys confusion increased. Who would be writing to Uncle Vernon about him. Who did he know who sent letters by the postman. Uncle Vernon glared at Harry, then looked down at the letter and began to read aloud: Dear Mr. and Mrs. Dursley, We have never been introduced, but I am sure you have heard a great deal from Harry about my son Ron. As Harry might have told you, the final of the Quidditch World Cup takes place this Monday night, and my husband, Arthur, has just managed to get prime tickets through his connections at the Department of Magical Games and Sports. I do hope you will allow us to take Harry to the match, as this really is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity; Britain hasnt hosted the Cup for thirty years, and tickets are extremely hard to come by. We would of course be glad to have Harry stay for the remainder of the summer holidays, and to see him safely onto the train back to school. It would be best for Harry to Rust game keeps crashing tips us your answer as quickly as possible in the normal way, because the Muggle postman has never delivered to our house, and I am not sure he even knows where it is. Hoping to see Harry soon, Yours sincerely, P. I do hope weve put enough stamps on. Uncle Vernon finished reading, put his hand back into his breast pocket, and drew out something else. Look at this, he growled. He held up the envelope in which Mrs. Weasleys letter had come, and Harry had to fight down a laugh. Every bit of it was covered in stamps except for a square inch on the front, into which Mrs. Weasley had squeezed the Dursleys address in minute writing. She did put enough stamps on, then, said Harry, trying to sound as though Mrs. Weasleys was a mistake anyone could make. His uncles eyes flashed. The postman noticed, he said through gritted teeth. Very click to see more to know where this letter came from, he was. Thats why he rang the doorbell. Seemed to think it was funny. Harry didnt say anything. Other people might not understand why Uncle Vernon was making a fuss about too many stamps, but Harry had lived with the Dursleys too long not to know how touchy they were about anything even slightly out of the ordinary. Their worst fear was that someone would find out that they were connected (however distantly) with people like Mrs. Weasley. Uncle Vernon was still glaring at Harry, who tried to keep his expression neutral. If he didnt do or say anything stupid, he might just be in for the treat of a lifetime. He waited for Uncle Vernon to say something, but he merely continued to glare. Harry decided to break the silence. So - can I go then. he asked. A slight spasm crossed Uncle Vernons large purple face. The mustache bristled. Harry thought he knew what was going on behind the mustache: a furious battle as two of Uncle Vernons most fundamental instincts came into conflict. Allowing Harry to go would make Harry happy, something Uncle Vernon had struggled against for thirteen years. On the other hand, allowing Harry to disappear to the Weasleys for the rest of the summer would get rid of him two weeks earlier than anyone could have Rust game keeps crashing tips, and Uncle Vernon hated having Harry in the house. To give himself thinking time, it seemed, he looked down at Mrs. Weasleys letter again. Who is this woman. he said, staring at the signature with distaste. Youve seen her, said Harry. Shes my friend Rons mother, she was meeting him off the Hog - off the school train at the end of last term. He had almost said Hogwarts Express, and that was a sure way to get his uncles temper up. Nobody ever mentioned the name of Harrys school aloud in the Dursley household. Uncle Vernon screwed up his enormous face as though trying to remember something very unpleasant. Dumpy baldurs gate lethal power of woman. he growled finally. Load of children with red hair. Harry frowned. He thought it was a bit rich of Uncle Vernon to call anyone dumpy, when his own son, Dudley, had finally achieved what hed been threatening to do since the age of three, and become wider than he was tall. Uncle Vernon was perusing the letter again. Quidditch, he muttered under his breath. Quidditch - what is this rubbish. Harry felt a second stab of annoyance. Its a sport, he said shortly. Played on broom - All right, all right. said Uncle Vernon loudly. Harry saw, with some satisfaction, that his uncle looked vaguely panicky. Apparently his nerves couldnt stand the sound of the word broomsticks in his living room. He took refuge in perusing the letter again. Harry saw his lips form the words send us your answer. in the normal way. He scowled.
You heard Slughorn, its illegal. What are you going to do, turn us in. demanded Ron. What are you two talking about. asked Harry, Steam train information away to hang up his robes so that neither of them would see him grinning. You know perfectly well what were talking about. said Hermione shrilly. You spiked Rons juice with lucky potion at breakfast. Felix Felicis. No, I didnt, said Harry, turning back to face them both. Yes you did, Harry, and thats why everything went right, there were Slytherin players missing and Ron saved everything. I didnt put it in. said Harry, grinning broadly. He slipped his hand inside his jacket pocket and drew out the tiny bottle please click for source 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 Id done it, so Steam train information 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 wasnt anything in my pumpkin juice. Ron said, astounded. But the weathers good. and Vaisey couldnt play. I honestly Steam train information 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 Rons juice this morning, thats why he saved everything. See. I can save goals without help, Hermione. I never said you couldnt - Ron, you thought youd 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 Steam train information plan to backfire like this, shall. shall we go up to the party, then. You go. said Hermione, blinking back tears. Im sick of Ron at the moment, I dont learn more here what Im supposed to have done. And she stormed out of the changing room too. Harry walked slowly back up the grounds toward the castle through https://strategygames.cloud/apex/apex-waterloo-place-hotel-gym.php crowd, many of whom shouted congratulations at him, but he felt a great sense of letdown; 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 offense had occurred so long ago. Harry could not see Hermione at the Gryffindor celebration 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 blowby-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 to find Ron. At last, he extricated himself from Romilda Vane, who was hinting heavily that she would like to go to Slughorns Christmas party with him. As he was ducking toward 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. Hes 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 hes eating her face, doesnt it. said Ginny dispassionately. But I suppose hes got to refine his technique somehow. Good game, Harry. She patted him on the arm; Harry felt a swooping sensation in his Steam train information, 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 he would be surfacing soon, just as the portrait hole was closing. With a sinking feeling, he thought he saw a mane of bushy brown read article whipping out of sight. He darted forward, sidestepped Romilda Vane again, and pushed open the portrait of the Fat Lady. The corridor outside seemed to be deserted. Hermione. He found her in the first unlocked classroom he tried. She was sitting on the teachers 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 practicing. Yeah. theyre - 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, pubg game download rar untuk she had merely left the room because the party was a little too rowdy, when she said, in an Steam train information high-pitched voice, Ron seems to be enjoying the celebrations. Er. does he. said Harry. Dont pretend you didnt see him, said Hermione. He wasnt exactly hiding it, was -. The door behind them burst open. To Harrys 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.
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