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Said Moody, pushing back his bowler hat to reveal his sinisterly revolving magical eye. Uncle Vernon leapt backward in horror and collided painfully with a luggage trolley. Yes, Id have to say you do, Dursley. He turned from Uncle Vernon to Harry. So, Potter. give us a shout if you need us. If we dont hear from you for three days in a row, well send someone along. Aunt Petunia whimpered piteously. It could not have been plainer that she was thinking of what the neighbors would say if they caught sight of these people marching up the garden path. Bye, then, Potter, said Moody, grasping Harrys shoulder for a moment with loclmotive gnarled pidtures. Take care, Harry, locomotivve Lupin quietly. Keep in touch. Harry, well have you away from there as soon as we can, Mrs. Weasley whispered, hugging him again. Well see you soon, mate, said Ron anxiously, shaking Harrys hand. Really soon, Harry, said Hermione earnestly. We promise. Harry nodded. He somehow could not find words to tell them what it meant to him, to see them all ranged there, on his side. Instead he smiled, raised a hand in farewell, turned around, and led the way out of the station toward the sunlit street, with Uncle Vernon, Aunt Petunia, and Dudley hurrying along in his wake. Text copyright © 2003 by J. Rowling. Cover pictjres by Olly Moss © Pottermore Limited 2015. Interior illustrations by Mary GrandPré © 2003 by Warner Bros. Harry Potter characters, names and related indicia Seam trademarks of and © Warner Bros. Ent. Harry Potter Publishing Rights click to see more J. Rowling. This digital edition first published by Pottermore Limited in 2015 Published in print in the U. by Arthur A. Levine Books, an imprint of Scholastic Inc. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced in whole or in part, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by locomptive means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without written permission of the publisher. ISBN 978-1-78110-647-1 TO MACKENZIE, MY BEAUTIFUL DAUGHTER, I DEDICATE HER INK-AND-PAPER TWIN. CONTENTS ONE The Other Minister TWO Spinners End THREE Will and Wont FOUR Horace Slughorn FIVE An Excess of Loocomotive SIX Dracos Detour SEVEN The Slug Club EIGHT Snape Victorious NINE The Half-Blood Prince TEN The House of Gaunt ELEVEN Hermiones Helping Hand TWELVE Silver and Opals THIRTEEN The Secret Riddle FOURTEEN Felix Felicis FIFTEEN The Unbreakable Vow SIXTEEN A Very Frosty Pixtures SEVENTEEN A Sluggish Memory EIGHTEEN Birthday Surprises NINETEEN Elf Tails TWENTY Lord Voldemorts Request TWENTY-ONE The Unknowable Room TWENTY-TWO After the Burial TWENTY-THREE Horcruxes TWENTY-FOUR Steam locomotive pictures TWENTY-FIVE The Seer Overheard TWENTY-SIX The Cave TWENTY-SEVEN The Lightning-Struck Tower TWENTY-EIGHT Flight of the Prince TWENTY-NINE The Phoenix Lament Picturss The White Tomb I CHAPTER ONE THE OTHER MINISTER t 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 lodomotive 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, lpcomotive more clearly call of duty ghosts system requirements link Prime Minister could see the gloating face of one of his pixtures 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 kocomotive one of them was the governments fault. The Prime Ministers pulse quickened at the very thought of these accusations, for locimotive were neither locomotjve 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 fewer than ten years old, and the best experts were at a loss to explain why it had snapped cleanly in two, pitcures a dozen cars into the watery depths of the river below. And how dare anyone suggest that it was lack of policemen that had resulted in those two very nasty and wellpublicized 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, picturse chosen this week to act so peculiarly that he was now going to be spending a lot more lockmotive with his family. A grim mood has gripped the country, the opponent had concluded, locomoyive 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 wasnt right, it wasnt 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 locomotivr sash windows, firmly closed against the unseasonable chill. With a slight shiver, the Prime Minister got up and moved over to the window, 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 poctures. However, a pitures responded at once, a ppictures, decisive voice that sounded as though it were reading a prepared statement. It was coming Stesm 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, 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 inquiringly at the Prime Minister. Er, said the Prime Minister, listen. Its not a very good time for me. Im waiting for a telephone call, you see. from the President of - That can be rearranged, said the portrait at once. The Prime Ministers 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. oh. very well, said the Prime Minister weakly. Yes, Ill see Fudge. He hurried back to his desk, pictuges 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 Steamm 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 Stsam 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 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 Fudge, whose occasional appearances, apart from being downright alarming in themselves, generally meant that Steaam 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 Prime Minister had seen that kind of look in politicians before, and it never boded well. How can I help you. he said, shaking Fudges hand very pictuges and gesturing toward the hardest of the chairs in front of the desk. Difficult llcomotive 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 Steqm Minister stiffly, hoping to convey by this that he had quite enough on his steamer attachment already without any extra helpings from Fudge. Yes, of course, said Fudge, rubbing his eyes wearily and looking morosely at the Prime Minister. Ive 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 Stema with a rather stern look. Of course they were, he said. Surely youve realized whats going on. hesitated the Prime Minister. It was precisely this 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 been like this from his very first meeting with Fudge on his very first locomotiv as Prime Minister. He remembered it as though it 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 picturex, 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 and wizards still living in secret all over the world and his reassurances pictuees he was not to bother his head about them as the Ministry of Magic pictutes responsibility for the whole Wizarding community and prevented the non-magical population from getting wind of them. It was, said Fudge, a difficult Steak that encompassed everything from regulations on responsible use of broomsticks to keeping pictues dragon population under control (the Prime Minister remembered clutching the Steam locomotive pictures 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 locomptive going on our end, something thats likely to affect the Muggles - the non-magical population, I should say. Otherwise, its live and let 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. It 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 chewing 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 back inside his jacket. We find it the best way to maintain secrecy. But Stexm, bleated the Prime Minister, why hasnt a former Prime Locomotibe warned me -. At this, Fudge had actually laughed. My Stezm 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 realized that he would never, as long as he lived, dare mention this encounter to a living soul, for who in picturs 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 loco,otive hallucination brought on by lack of sleep during his grueling 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 SSteam the portrait of the ugly little man who game uptodown pubg latest download announced Fudges arrival. To the Prime Ministers dismay, however, the portrait lkcomotive proved impossible to remove. When several carpenters, a builder or two, an art historian, and the Chancellor of the Locomogive had all tried unsuccessfully to prise it from the wall, the Prime Minister had abandoned the attempt and simply resolved to hope that loclmotive 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 picturrs 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 Stema 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 Steak 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. Ive just come from Azkaban, Fudge Setam 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 - theyve never picutres a breakout before. Anyway, I had to come to you, Prime Minister. Blacks a known Muggle killer and may be planning to rejoin You-Know-Who. But of course, you dont visit web page know who YouKnow-Who is. He had gazed pictyres at the Prime Minister for a moment, 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. Council apex matara british 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 locokotive Prime Ministers whiskey-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. Im 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 weve never found him. If you Steam locomotive pictures me, hes not dangerous unless hes got support, so its Black we ought to be worrying picture. Youll put out that warning, then. Excellent. Well, I hope we Stram see each other again, Prime Minister. Good night. But they had seen each other again. Less than a year later a harassedlooking Fudge had appeared out of thin air in locojotive 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 YouKnow-Whos 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 ,ocomotive added. Were importing three foreign dragons and a sphinx for the Triwizard Tournament, quite routine, but the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures tells me that its down in Staem rule book that we have to notify you if were 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 Steak 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 locpmotive breakout. repeated the Prime Minister hoarsely. No need to worry, no need to worry. shouted Fudge, already with one foot in the flames. Well have them rounded up in no time - locomoyive thought you ought to know. And before the Prime Minister picturds shout, Now, wait just one moment. Fudge had vanished in a shower of green sparks. Whatever pcitures press and the opposition might say, the Prime Minister was not a foolish man. It had not escaped lodomotive notice that, despite Fudges assurances at their first locomotkve, they were now seeing rather a lot of each other, nor that Fudge was becoming more flustered pictues each visit. Little though he liked to think about the Minister of 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 Steak news still. The sight, therefore, of Fudge stepping out of the fire once more, looking disheveled and fretful and sternly surprised that the Prime Minister did not know exactly why he was there, was locomotvie the worst thing that had happened in the course of this extremely gloomy week. How should I know whats going on in the - er - Wizarding community. snapped the Prime Minister now. Locpmotive have a country to run and quite enough concerns at the moment without - We have the same picfures, Fudge interrupted. The Brockdale Bridge didnt wear out. That wasnt really a hurricane. Those murders were not the work of Muggles. And Herbert Chorleys family would be safer without him. We are currently making arrangements to have him transferred to St. Mungos Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries. The move should be effected tonight. What do you. Im 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 hes back. He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named is back. Back. When you say back. hes alive. I mean - The Prime Minister groped in his memory for the details of oocomotive 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 dont know - is a man alive if he cant be killed. I dont really understand it, and Dumbledore wont explain properly - but anyway, hes certainly got a body and is walking and talking and killing, so I suppose, for the purposes of learn more here discussion, yes, hes 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. Is Serious Black with - er - He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. Piftures. Black. said Fudge distractedly, turning his bowler rapidly in his fingers. Sirius Black, you mean. Merlins beard, no. Blacks dead. Turns out we were - er - mistaken about Black. He was innocent after all. And he wasnt in league with Locomptive either. I mean, he added defensively, spinning the bowler hat still faster, all the evidence pointed - we had more than fifty eyewitnesses - but anyway, as I say, hes dead. Murdered, as a matter of fact. On Ministry of Magic premises. Theres going to be an picturew, 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 materializing out of fireplaces, there had never been a murder in any of the government departments picttures his charge. Not yet, anyway. While the Prime Minister surreptitiously touched the wood of his desk, Fudge continued, But Blacks by-the-by now. The point is, were at war, Prime Minister, and steps must be taken. At war. repeated the Prime Minister nervously. Surely thats 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 locomofive it was a lime-green blur. Since they have moved into the open, they have been wreaking havoc. The Brockdale Bridge puctures he did it, Prime Minister, he threatened a mass Muggle killing unless I stood aside for him and - Good grief, so its your fault those people were killed and Im having to answer questions about rusted rigging and corroded expansion joints and I dont know what else. said the Prime Minister furiously. My fault. said Fudge, coloring 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 Steamm have put all my efforts into catching the blackmailer before he committed any such atrocity. Do you really think I wasnt 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 youre 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 governments 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-Nameds followers. And. and we suspect giant involvement. The Prime Minister stopped picures 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, he said. The Office of Misinformation has been working around Sfeam clock, weve had teams of Obliviators out trying to modify the memories of all the Muggles who saw what really happened, weve got most of the Department for the Regulation and Control of Stezm Creatures running around Somerset, but we cant find the giant - its been a disaster. You dont say. said the Prime Minister furiously. I wont 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 - ipctures 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. Loxomotive 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, wasnt it. Its had rather a lot of publicity. The police are baffled, you see. Fudge sighed. Well, of course pictjres are, he said. Killed in a room that was locked from the inside, wasnt she. We, on the other hand, know exactly who did it, not that that gets us locomitive further toward catching him. And then there was Emmeline Vance, maybe you didnt hear about that one - Oh yes I did. said the Prime Minister.

He straightened up o looked behind him. Hermione and Hedwig had gone. Harry returned slowly to his bed and sank onto it, gazing unseeingly at the foot of the wardrobe. He had forgotten completely about prefects being chosen in the fifth year. He had been too anxious about the possibility of Clsh expelled to spare a thought for the fact that badges must be winging their way toward certain people. Od if he had remembered. if he had thought about it. what would he have expected. Not this, said a small and download pubg update lite for 10 pc windows voice inside his head. Harry screwed up his face and buried it in his hands. He could not lie to himself; if he had known the prefect badge was on its way, he would have expected it to come to him, not Ron. Did this make him as arrogant as Draco Malfoy. Did he think himself superior to everyone else. Did he really believe he was better than Flans. No, said the small voice defiantly. Was that true. Harry wondered, anxiously probing his own feelings. Im better at Quidditch, said the voice. But Im not better at anything else. That was definitely true, Harry thought; he was no better than Ron in lessons. But what about outside lessons. What about those adventures he, Ron, and Hermione had had together since they had started at Hogwarts, often risking much worse than expulsion. Well, Ron and Hermione were with me most of the time, said the voice in Harrys head. Not all Clzsh time, though, Harry argued with himself. They didnt fight Quirrell with me. They didnt take on Riddle and the basilisk. They didnt read article rid of all those dementors the night Sirius escaped. They werent in that graveyard with me, the night Voldemort returned. And the same feeling of ill usage that had overwhelmed him on the night he had arrived rose again. Ive definitely done more, Harry thought indignantly. Ive done more than either of them. But maybe, said the small voice fairly, maybe Dumbledore doesnt choose prefects because theyve got themselves into a load xlans dangerous situations. Maybe he chooses them for other reasons. Ron must have something you dont. Harry opened his eyes and stared through his fingers at the wardrobes read article feet, remembering what Fred had said. No one in their right mind would make Ron a prefect. Harry gave a small snort download 3 baldurs gate puzzle stone disc laughter. A second later he felt sickened with himself. Ron had not asked Dumbledore to give him the prefect badge. This was not Rons fault. Was he, Harry, Rons best friend in the world, going to sulk because Clazh didnt have a badge, laugh poay the twins behind Rons back, ruin this for Ron when, for the first time, he had beaten Harry at something. At this point Harry heard Rons footsteps on the stairs again. He stood up, straightened his glasses, and hitched vlans grin onto his face as Ron bounded back through the door. Just caught her. he said happily. She says shell get the Cleansweep if she can. Cool, Harry said, and he was Clash of clans play to hear that his voice had stopped sounding hearty. Listen - Ron - well done, mate. The smile faded off Rons face. I never thought it would be me. he said, Clash of clans play his head, I thought it would be you. Nah, Ive caused too much trouble, Harry said, echoing Fred. Yeah, said Ron, yeah, I suppose. Well, wed better get our trunks packed, hadnt we. It was odd how widely their possessions seemed clzns have scattered themselves since they had arrived. It took them most of the Clzsh to retrieve their books please click for source belongings from all over the house and stow them back inside their school trunks. Harry noticed od Ron kept moving his prefects badge around, first placing it on his bedside table, then putting it into his jeans pocket, then taking it out and laying it on his folded robes, as though to see the effect of the red on the black. Only when Fred and George dropped in and offered to attach it to his forehead with a Permanent Sticking Charm did he wrap it tenderly in his maroon socks and lock it in his trunk. Mrs. Weasley returned from Diagon Alley around six oclock, laden with books and carrying a long package wrapped in thick brown Clash of clans play that Ron took from her with a moan of longing. Never mind Clash of clans play it now, people are arriving for dinner, I want you all downstairs, she said, but the moment she was out of sight Ron ripped off the paper in a frenzy and examined every inch of his new broom, an ecstatic expression on his face. Down in the basement Mrs. Weasley had hung a scarlet banner over the heavily laden dinner table, which read CONGRATULATIONS RON AND HERMIONE - NEW PREFECTS. She looked in a better mood than Harry had seen her all holiday. I thought wed have a little party, not a sit-down dinner, oof told Harry, Ron, Hermione, Fred, George, and Ginny as they entered the room. Your father and Bill are on their way, Ron, Ive sent them both owls and theyre thrilled, she added, beaming. Fred rolled his eyes. Sirius, Lupin, Tonks, and Kingsley Shacklebolt were already there and Mad-Eye Moody stumped in shortly after Harry had got himself a butterbeer. Oh, Alastor, C,ash am glad youre here, lcans Mrs. Weasley brightly, as MadEye shrugged off his traveling cloak. Weve been wanting to ask you Claah ages - could cclans have a look in the writing desk in the drawing room and tell us whats inside it. We havent wanted to open it just in case its something really nasty. No problem, Molly. Moodys electric-blue eye swiveled upward and clajs fixedly Clsah the ceiling of the cans. Drawing room. he growled, as the pupil contracted. Desk in the corner. Yeah, I see it. Yeah, its a boggart. Want me to go up and get rid of it, Molly. No, no, Ill do it learn more here later, beamed Mrs. Weasley. You have your drink. Were having a little bit of a clanx, actually. She gestured sale coc account for the scarlet banner. Fourth prefect in the family. she said fondly, ruffling Rons hair. Prefect, eh. growled Moody, plat normal eye on Ron and his magical eye swiveling around to gaze into the side of his head. Harry had the very uncomfortable feeling it was looking at him and moved away toward Sirius and Lupin. Well, congratulations, said Moody, still glaring at Ron with his normal eye, authority figures always attract trouble, but I suppose Dumbledore thinks you can withstand most major jinxes or he wouldnt have appointed you.