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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 a gnarled hand. Take care, Harry, said Lupin quietly. Keep in touch. Harry, well have you away from there as soon as we can, Mrs. Weasley whispered, hugging him again. Well rkblox 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, Bsldurs 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 illustration by Olly Moss © Pottermore Managr 2015. Interior illustrations by Mary GrandPré © 2003 by Warner Bros. Harry Potter characters, names and related indicia are trademarks of and © Warner Bros. Ent. Harry Potter Publishing Rights © 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 any 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 Phlegm 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 Mos A Very Frosty Christmas 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 Sectumsempra 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 THIRTY 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 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 governments fault. The Mznager Ministers 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 Baldkrs they were not spending enough on bridges. The bridge was fewer than ten years old, and the best experts were at a loss to here why it learn more here snapped cleanly in two, sending 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 https://godeddaddygogogo.cloud/download/call-of-duty-garena-mobile-download-pc.php government should have somehow foreseen the freak hurricane in the West Country that had caused Baldurs gate mod manager roblox 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 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 long 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 Balurs 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 though it were reading a prepared Badurs. It was coming - as the Prime Minister had known at the first cough - from the froglike little man wearing a long silver wig rpblox was depicted in a small, dirty oil painting in Baldufs 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, 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 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 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 he was about to hear some very bad news. Furthermore, Theme, rust game gif library can was looking distinctly careworn. He was thinner, Baldurs gate mod manager roblox, 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 briefly and gesturing toward the hardest of the chairs roblos front of the desk. Difficult to know where to begin, muttered Fudge, pulling up the chair, sitting down, and placing his check this out bowler upon his knees. What a week, what a week. Mo a bad one too, have you. asked the Prime ABldurs 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. Ive been having the same week you have, Prime Minister. The Brockdale Bridge. Bqldurs 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 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 evening as Youtube 3 logo baldurs gate 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 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 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 mahager 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 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, rooblox 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 mpd back 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. 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 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 doblox to rid mos of all reminders of this uncomfortable encounter, he had given the gerbil to his delighted niece and instructed his private secretary to Baldurx down the portrait of the ugly little man who had announced Fudges arrival. To the Prime Ministers robloxx, 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 abandoned the attempt and simply resolved to hope that the thing remained motionless and silent for the rest of his term in office. Occasionally Baldure could have sworn he saw out modd 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, bate 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 msnager Baldurs gate mod manager roblox 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 robloz 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 North Sea, you know, nasty flight. the dementors are in uproar - he shuddered - theyve never had a breakout before. Anyway, I had to come to you, Prime Minister. Blacks a gage 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 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. Https://godeddaddygogogo.cloud/apex/apex-talent-group-new-youth-talent.php 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 the 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 managfr 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 ask me, hes not dangerous unless hes got support, so its Black we ought to be worrying about. Youll put out that warning, then. Manaber. Well, I hope we dont 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 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 kod, 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 had 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 the 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 gaet 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. 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 - just thought you ought to know. And before the Prime Minister could 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 Fudges assurances at their first meeting, they were now seeing rather a lot of each other, nor that Fudge was becoming more flustered call of duty open beta date 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 manageer time Fudge appeared it would be with graver news still. The sight, therefore, of Fudge stepping out of the fire once more, looking disheveled and fretful and Balcurs 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. How should I know whats going on in the - er - Wizarding 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 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. Mnager 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 Roblix 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 continue reading 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 Baldurs gate mod manager roblox and is walking and talking and killing, so I suppose, for the purposes of our 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. Black. 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 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 eyewitnesses - but anyway, as I say, hes dead.

Its none of your business if Harrys been with a hundred girls, Hermione told Rita coolly. So you can put that away right now. Rita had been on the point of withdrawing an acid-green quill from her bag. Looking as though she had been forced to swallow Stinksap, she snapped her bag shut again. What are you up to. Harry asked, sitting down and staring from Rita to Luna to Hermione. Little Miss Perfect was just about to tell me when you arrived, said Rita, taking a large slurp of her drink. I suppose Im allowed to talk to him, am I. she shot at Hermione. Yes, I suppose you are, said Hermione coldly. Unemployment did not suit Rita. The hair that had once been set in elaborate curls now hung lank and unkempt around her face. The scarlet paint on her two-inch talons was chipped and there were a couple of false jewels missing from her winged glasses. She took another great gulp of her drink and said out of the corner of her mouth, Pretty girl, is she, Harry. One more word about Harrys love life and the deals off and thats a click to see more, said Hermione irritably. What deal. said Rita, wiping her mouth Steeampunk the back of her hand. You havent mentioned a deal yet, Miss Prissy, you just told me to apex for legends rates pick up. Oh, one of these days. She took a deep shuddering breath. Yes, yes, one of these days youll write more horrible stories about Harry and me, said Hermione indifferently. Find someone who cares, why dont you. Theyve run plenty of horrible Steampunk men about Harry this year emn my help, said Rita, shooting a sideways look at him over the top of her glass and Steampunk men in a rough whisper, How has that made you feel, Harry. Betrayed. Distraught. Misunderstood. He feels angry, of course, said Hermione in a hard, clear voice. Because hes told the Minister of Magic the truth and the Ministers too Steampunk men of an idiot to believe him. So you Steampunk men stick to it, do you, that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named is back. said Rita, lowering her glass and subjecting Harry to a piercing stare while her finger strayed longingly to the clasp of the crocodile bag. You ,en by all this garbage Dumbledores been telling everybody about YouKnow-Who returning and you being the sole witness -. I wasnt the sole witness, snarled Harry. There were a dozen-odd Death Eaters there as well. Want their names. Id love them, breathed Rita, now fumbling in her bag once more mne gazing at him as though he was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen. A great bold headline: Potter Accuses. A subheading: Harry Potter Names Death Eaters Still Among Us. And then, beneath a nice big photograph of you: Disturbed teenage survivor of You-Know-Whos attack, Harry Potter, 15, caused outrage yesterday by Steampunk men respectable and prominent members of the Wizarding community of being Death Eaters. The Quick-Quotes Quill was actually in her hand and halfway to her mouth when the rapturous expression died out of her face. But of course, she said, lowering the quill and Strampunk daggers at Hermione, Little Miss Perfect wouldnt want that story out there, would she. As a matter of fact, said Hermione sweetly, thats exactly what Little Miss Perfect does want. Rita stared at her. So did Harry. Luna, on the other hand, sang, Weasley Is Our King dreamily under her breath and stirred her drink with a cocktail onion on a stick. You want me to report what he says about He-Who-Must-Not-BeNamed. Rita asked Hermione in a hushed voice. Yes, I do, said Hermione. The true story. All the facts. Exactly as Harry reports them. Hell give you all the details, hell tell you the names of the undiscovered Stea,punk Eaters he saw there, hell tell you what Voldemort looks like now - oh, get https://godeddaddygogogo.cloud/rust-game/rust-game-on-pc-cheats.php grip on yourself, she added contemptuously, throwing a napkin across the table, for at the sound of Voldemorts Stteampunk, Rita had jumped so badly that she had slopped half her glass of firewhisky down herself. Rita blotted the front of her grubby raincoat, still staring at Hermione. Then she said baldly, The Prophet wouldnt Steampunk men it. In case you havent noticed, nobody believes his cock-and-bull story. Everyone thinks hes delusional. Now, if you let me write the story from that angle - We dont need another story about how Harrys lost his marbles. said Hermione angrily. Weve had plenty of those already, thank you. I want him given the opportunity to tell the truth. Theres no market for a story like that, said Rita coldly. You mean Strampunk Prophet wont print it because Fudge wont let them, said Hermione irritably. Rita gave Hermione a long, hard look. Then, leaning forward across the table toward her, she said in a businesslike tone, All right, Fudge source leaning on the Prophet, but it comes to the same thing.

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