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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 FOR SEÁN P. HARRIS, GETAWAY DRIVER AND FOUL-WEATHER FRIEND CONTENTS ONE The Worst Birthday TWO Dobbys Warning THREE The Burrow FOUR At Flourish and Blotts FIVE The Whomping Willow SIX Gilderoy Lockhart SEVEN Mudbloods and Murmurs EIGHT The Deathday Party NINE The Writing on the Wall TEN The Rogue Bludger ELEVEN The Dueling Club TWELVE The Polyjuice Potion THIRTEEN The Very Secret Diary FOURTEEN Cornelius Fudge FIFTEEN Aragog SIXTEEN The Chamber of Secrets SEVENTEEN The Heir of Slytherin EIGHTEEN Dobbys Reward N CHAPTER ONE THE WORST BIRTHDAY ot for the first time, an argument had broken out over breakfast at number four, Privet Drive. Vernon Dursley had been woken in the early hours of the morning by a loud, hooting noise from his nephew Harrys room. Third time this week. he roared across the table. If you cant control that owl, itll have to go. Harry tried, yet again, to explain. Shes bored, he said. Shes used to flying around outside. If I could just let her out at night - Do I look stupid. snarled Uncle Vernon, a bit of fried egg dangling from his bushy mustache. I know whatll happen if that owls let out. He exchanged dark looks with his wife, Petunia. Harry tried to argue back but his words were drowned by a long, loud belch from the Dursleysson, Dudley. I want more bacon. Theres more in the frying pan, sweetums, said Aunt Petunia, turning misty eyes on her massive son. We must build you up while weve got the chance. I dont like the sound of that school food. Nonsense, Petunia, I never went hungry when I was at Smeltings, said Uncle Vernon heartily. Dudley gets enough, dont you, accept. apex.roof you. Dudley, who was so large his bottom drooped over either side of the kitchen chair, grinned and turned to Harry. Pass the frying pan. Youve forgotten the magic word, said Harry irritably. The effect of this simple sentence on the rest of the family was incredible: Dudley gasped and fell off his chair with a crash that shook the whole kitchen; Mrs. Dursley gave a small scream and clapped her hands to her mouth; Mr. Dursley jumped to his feet, veins throbbing in his temples. I meant please. said Harry quickly. I didnt mean - WHAT HAVE I TOLD YOU, thundered his uncle, spraying spit over the table, ABOUT SAYING THE M WORD IN OUR HOUSE. But I - HOW DARE YOU THREATEN DUDLEY. roared Uncle Vernon, pounding the table with his fist. I just - I WARNED YOU. I WILL NOT TOLERATE MENTION OF YOUR ABNORMALITY UNDER THIS ROOF. Harry stared from his purple-faced uncle to his pale aunt, who was trying to heave Dudley to his feet. All right, said Harry, all right. Uncle Vernon sat back down, breathing like a winded rhinoceros and watching Harry closely out of the corners of his small, sharp eyes. Ever since Harry had come home for the summer holidays, Uncle Vernon had been treating him like a bomb that might go off at any moment, because Harry Potter wasnt a normal boy. As a matter of fact, he was as not normal as it is possible to be. Harry Potter was a wizard - a wizard fresh from his first year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. And if the Dursleys were unhappy to have him back for the holidays, it was nothing to how Harry felt. He missed Hogwarts so much it was like having a constant stomachache. He missed the castle, with its secret passageways and ghosts, his classes (though perhaps not Snape, the Potions master), the mail arriving by owl, eating banquets in the Great Hall, sleeping in his four-poster bed in the tower dormitory, visiting the gamekeeper, Hagrid, in his cabin next to the Forbidden Forest in the grounds, and, https://godeddaddygogogo.cloud/xbox/apex-legends-coins-argentina-xbox.php, Quidditch, the most popular sport in the Wizarding world (six tall goalposts, four flying balls, and fourteen players on broomsticks). All Harrys spellbooks, his wand, robes, cauldron, and top-of-the-line Nimbus Two Thousand broomstick had been locked in a cupboard under the stairs by Uncle Vernon the instant Harry had come home. What did the Dursleys care if Harry lost his place on the House Quidditch team because he hadnt practiced all summer. What was it to the Dursleys if Harry went back to school without any of his homework done. The Dursleys were what wizards called Muggles (not a drop of magical blood in their veins), and as far as they were concerned, having a wizard in the family was a matter of deepest shame. Uncle Vernon had even padlocked Harrys owl, Hedwig, inside her cage, to stop her from carrying messages to anyone in the Wizarding world. Harry looked nothing like the rest of the family. Uncle Vernon was large and neckless, with an enormous black mustache; Aunt Petunia was horsefaced and bony; Dudley was blond, pink, and porky. Harry, on the call of duty list hand, was small and skinny, with brilliant green eyes and jet-black hair that was always untidy. He wore round glasses, and on his forehead was a thin, lightning-shaped scar. It was this scar that made Harry so particularly unusual, even for a wizard. This scar was the only hint of Harrys very mysterious past, of the reason he had been left on the Dursleys doorstep eleven years before. At the age of one year old, Harry had somehow survived a curse from the greatest Dark sorcerer of all time, Lord Voldemort, whose name most witches and wizards still feared to speak. Harrys parents had died in Voldemorts attack, but Harry had escaped with his lightning scar, and somehow - nobody understood why - Grand theft auto 4 map powers had been destroyed the instant he had failed to kill Harry. So Harry had been brought read article Grand theft auto 4 map his dead mothers sister and her husband. He had spent ten years with the Dursleys, never understanding why he kept making odd things happen without meaning to, believing the Dursleys story that he had got his scar in the car crash that had killed his parents. And then, exactly a year ago, Hogwarts had written to Harry, and the whole story had come out. Harry had taken up his place at wizard school, where he and his scar were famous. but now the school year was over, and he was back with the Dursleys for the summer, back to being treated like a dog that had rolled in something smelly. The Dursleys hadnt even remembered that today happened to be Harrys twelfth birthday. Of course, his hopes hadnt been high; theyd never given him a real present, let alone a cake - but to ignore it completely. At that moment, Uncle Vernon cleared his throat importantly and said, Now, as we all know, today is a very important day. Harry looked up, hardly daring to believe it. This could well be the day I make the biggest deal of my career, said Uncle Vernon. Harry went back to opinion steam community login think toast. Of course, he thought bitterly, Uncle Vernon was talking about the stupid dinner party. Hed been talking of nothing else for two weeks. Some rich builder and his wife were coming to dinner and Uncle Vernon was hoping to get a huge order from him (Uncle Vernons company made drills). I think we should run through the schedule one more time, said Uncle Vernon. We should all be in position at eight oclock. Petunia, you will be -. In the lounge, said Aunt Petunia promptly, waiting to welcome them graciously to our home. Good, good. And Dudley. Ill be waiting to open the door. Dudley put on a foul, simpering smile. May I take your coats, Mr.
Limited. Narrow. Close-minded. The truth was that she was scared of the idea of the Deathly Hallows, especially of the Resurrection Stone. and Harry pressed his mouth again to the Snitch, kissing it, nearly swallowing it, but the cold metal did not yield. It was nearly dawn rust game requirements windows he remembered Luna, alone in a cell in Azkaban, surrounded by dementors, and he suddenly felt ashamed of himself. He had forgotten all about her in his feverish contemplation of the Hallows. If only they could rescue her; but dementors in those numbers would be virtually unassailable. Now he came to think about it, he had not yet tried casting a Patronus with the blackthorn wand. He must try that in the morning. If only there was a way of getting a better wand. And desire for the Elder Wand, the Deathstick, unbeatable, invincible, swallowed him once more. They packed up the tent next morning and moved on through a dreary shower of rain. The downpour pursued them to the coast, click here they pitched the tent that night, and persisted through the whole week, through sodden landscapes that Harry found bleak and depressing. He could think only of the Deathly Hallows. It was as though a flame had been lit inside him that nothing, not Hermiones flat disbelief nor Rons persistent doubts, could extinguish. And yet the fiercer the longing for the Hallows burned inside him, the less joyful it made him. He blamed Ron and Hermione: Their determined indifference was as bad as the relentless rain for dampening his spirits, but neither could erode his certainty, which remained absolute. Harrys belief in and longing for the Hallows consumed him so much that he felt quite isolated from the other two and their obsession with the Horcruxes. Obsession. said Hermione in a low fierce voice, gate keyboard shortcuts reviews Harry was careless enough to use the word one evening, after Hermione had told him off for his lack of interest in locating more Horcruxes. Were not the ones with an obsession, Harry. Were the ones trying to do what Dumbledore wanted us to do. But he was impervious to the veiled criticism. Dumbledore had left the sign of the Hallows for Hermione to decipher, and he had also, Harry remained convinced of it, left the Resurrection Stone hidden in the golden Snitch. Neither can live while the other survives. master of Death. Why didnt Ron and Hermione understand. The last enemy that shall be destroyed is death, Harry quoted calmly. I thought it was You-Know-Who we were supposed to be fighting. Hermione retorted, and Harry gave up on her. Even the mystery of the silver doe, which the other two insisted on discussing, seemed less important to Harry now, a vaguely interesting sideshow. The only other thing that mattered to him was that his scar had begun to prickle again, although he did all he could to hide this fact from the other two. He sought solitude whenever it happened, but was disappointed by what he saw. The visions Gog to steam deck and Voldemort were sharing had changed in quality; they had become blurred, shifting as though they were moving in and out of focus. Harry was just able to make out click to see more indistinct features of an object that looked like a skull, and something like a mountain that was more shadow than substance. Used to images sharp as reality, Harry was disconcerted by the change. He was worried that the connection between himself Gog to steam deck Voldemort had been damaged, a connection that he both feared and, whatever he had told Hermione, prized. Somehow Harry connected these unsatisfying, vague images with the destruction just click for source his wand, as if it was the blackthorn wands fault that he could no longer see into Voldemorts mind as well as before. As the weeks crept on, Harry could not help but notice, even through his new self-absorption, that Ron seemed to be taking charge. Perhaps because he was determined to make up for having walked out on them, perhaps because Harrys descent into listlessness galvanized his dormant leadership qualities, Ron was the one now encouraging and exhorting the other two into action. Three Horcruxes left, he kept saying. We need a plan of action, come on. Where havent we looked. Lets go through it again. The orphanage. Diagon Alley, Hogwarts, the Riddle House, Borgin and Burkes, Albania, every place that they knew Tom Riddle had ever lived or worked, visited or murdered, Ron and Hermione raked over them again, Harry joining in only to stop Hermione pestering him. He would have been happy to sit alone in silence, trying to read Voldemorts thoughts, to find out more about the Elder Wand, but Ron insisted on journeying to ever more unlikely places simply, Harry was aware, to keep them moving. You never know, was Rons constant refrain. Upper Flagley is a Wizarding village, he mightve wanted to live there. Lets go and have a poke around. These frequent forays into Wizarding territory brought them within occasional sight of Snatchers. Some of them are supposed to be as bad as Death Eaters, said Ron. The lot that got me were a bit pathetic, but Bill reckons some of them are really dangerous. They said on Potterwatch - On what. said Harry. Potterwatch, didnt I tell you thats what it was called. The program I keep trying to get on the radio, the only one that tells the truth about whats going on. Nearly all the programs are following Gog to steam deck line, all except Potterwatch. I really want you to hear it, Gog to steam deck its tricky tuning in. Ron spent evening after evening using his wand to beat out various rhythms on top of the wireless while the dials whirled. Occasionally they would catch snatches of advice on how to treat dragon pox, and once a few bars of A Cauldron Full of Hot Strong Love. While he tapped, Ron continued to try to hit on the correct password, muttering strings of random words under his breath. Theyre normally something to do with the Order, he told them. Bill had a real knack for guessing them. Im bound to get one in the end. But not until March did luck favor Ron at last. Harry was sitting in the tent entrance, on guard duty, staring idly at a clump of grape hyacinths that had forced their way through the chilly ground, when Ron shouted excitedly from inside the tent. Ive got it, Ive got it. Password was Albus. Get in here, Harry. Roused for the first time in days from his contemplation of the Deathly Hallows, Harry hurried back inside the tent to find Ron and Hermione kneeling on the floor beside the little radio. Hermione, who had been polishing the more info of Gryffindor just for something to do, was sitting openmouthed, staring at the tiny speaker, from which a most familiar voice was issuing.
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