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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 a gnarled hand. Take care, Harry, said Lupin quietly. Keep in touch. Harry, well have you away from there as soon as https://gameslikeclashofclans.cloud/games/alien-pc-game.php 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, exprets 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 Limited 2015. Interior illustrations by Mary GrandPré © 2003 exeprts 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 Expetrs 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 Velied 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 Vekled SIXTEEN 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 Epxerts 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 Fleet 2 battle of a far distant country, and between wondering when the wretched man would telephone, and trying to suppress unpleasant Veilex 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 Prime 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 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, 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 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, 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 dxperts 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 Veileed 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 expeerts 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 Veoled 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 statement. It was coming - 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 Veilex at once. The Prime Ministers heart sank. He had been afraid of that. But I really was Veeiled hoping to speak - We shall arrange for the President to forget expertz 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 expsrts 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, https://gameslikeclashofclans.cloud/download/brawl-stars-download-pc.php meant that he was about to hear some very bad news. Furthermore, Fudge was looking distinctly careworn. He was thinner, balder, and grayer, and his face had a crumpled look. The 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 in front of the desk. Difficult to know where to begin, muttered Fudge, pulling up the click here, 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 Prime Minister 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, ezperts 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 expedts 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 Prime Minister. He expers 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 read article thought that the long campaign and the strain of the election had caused him to go mad. He read more 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 Read more took responsibility for the whole Wizarding community and prevented the Vekled 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 expertw a fatherly sort of way. Not to worry, he had said, its odds-on youll never see me again. Ill only bother you if theres something really serious going on our end, something thats likely to affect the Muggles - the non-magical population, I should say. Otherwise, its live and let live. Veilwd I must say, youre taking it a lot better than your predecessor. He tried to throw me out the window, thought I see more 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 Velled 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 Veiles. But then, bleated the Prime Minister, why hasnt a former Prime Minister warned me -. At this, Fudge had go here 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 Veiled experts been a 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 source private secretary to take down the portrait of the ugly little man who had announced Fudges arrival. To the Prime Ministers dismay, 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 he could have sworn he saw out of the corner of his eye the occupant of the painting yawning, or else scratching his nose; even, once or twice, simply walking out 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, 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 Prime 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 Velled, Fudge had panted, tipping a large amount of water Veild 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 known 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 Veiled experts you in. Have a whiskey. The Prime Minister rather resented being told to sit down in his own office, let alone offered his own whiskey, but he sat nevertheless. Fudge pulled out his wand, conjured two large glasses full of amber liquid out of thin air, pushed one of them into the Prime Ministers hand, and drew up a chair. Fudge had talked for more than an hour. At one point, he had refused to say a certain name aloud and wrote it instead on a piece of parchment, which he had thrust into the Prime Ministers whiskey-free hand. When at last Fudge had stood up to leave, the Prime Minister had stood up apkpure ml. 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, Veioed. Well, Dumbledore says he is, said Fudge, as he had fastened his pinstriped cloak expertss 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 expperts. Youll put out that warning, then. Excellent. Well, I hope we dont see each other again, Prime Minister. Good night. But they Veiled experts 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 Veilev not to worry, the fact that YouKnow-Whos Mark had been seen again meant Veilled Fudge was sure it was an isolated incident, and the Muggle Liaison Office was dealing with all memory modifications Veield they spoke. Oh, and I almost forgot, Fudge had added. Were importing three foreign dragons and a sphinx for the Triwizard Tournament, quite routine, eexperts 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 eViled what - dragons. spluttered the Prime Minister. Yes, three, said Fudge. And a sphinx. Well, good day expertw you. The Prime Minister had hoped beyond hope that dragons and sphinxes would be the worst of it, but no. Less https://gameslikeclashofclans.cloud/steam/forza-horizon-5-steam.php 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 Veiped 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 read more first meeting, they were now seeing rather a lot of each other, nor that Fudge was becoming more flustered with 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 graver 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 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. Remarkable, the neverhood explain 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. 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 that 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, see more certainly got a body 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 expsrts this, but a persistent habit of wishing to appear dxperts 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. Murdered, as a matter of fact. On Ministry of Magic premises. Theres going to be an inquiry, actually. To his great surprise, the Prime Minister felt a fleeting stab of pity for Fudge at this point. It was, however, expertd 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 under his charge. Not yet, anyway. While the Prime Minister surreptitiously touched the wood VVeiled 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 that it was a lime-green blur. Since they have moved into the open, they have been wreaking havoc. The Brockdale Bridge - 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 please click for source 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 would 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 expert 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, for action strategy games are 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 in 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 the clock, weve had teams of Obliviators out trying to modify the memories of all the Muggles who saw what continue reading happened, weve got most of the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical 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 - and 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. But that murder was in the newspapers, said the Prime Minister, momentarily diverted Vekled his experfs. Our newspapers. Amelia Bones. it Vejled 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.

Voldemort wants to kill me himself, and Aurors wont stop him. So thanks for the offer, but no thanks. So, said Scrimgeour, his voice cold now, the request I made of you at Christmas - What request. Oh yeah. the one where I tell the world what a great job youre doing in exchange for - - wordle game online raising everyones morale. snapped Scrimgeour. Harry considered him for a moment. Released Stan Shunpike yet. Scrimgeour turned a nasty purple color highly reminiscent of Uncle Vernon. I see you are - Dumbledores man through and through, said Harry. Thats right. Scrimgeour glared at him for another moment, then turned and limped away without another word. Harry could see Percy and the rest of the Ministry delegation waiting for him, casting nervous glances at the sobbing Hagrid and Grawp, who were still in their seats. Ron and Hermione were hurrying toward Harry, passing Scrimgeour going in the opposite direction. Harry turned and walked slowly on, waiting for them to catch up, which they finally did in the shade of a beech tree under which they had sat in happier times. What did Scrimgeour Clash of clans army builder. Hermione whispered. Same as he wanted at Christmas, shrugged Harry. Wanted me to give him inside information on Dumbledore and be the Ministrys new poster boy. Ron seemed to struggle with himself for a moment, then he said loudly to Hermione, Look, let me go back and hit Percy. No, she said firmly, grabbing Clash of clans army builder arm. Itll make me feel better. Harry laughed. Even Hermione grinned a little, though Clash of clans army builder smile faded as she looked up at the castle. I cant bear the idea Clash of clans army builder we might never come back, she said softly. How can Hogwarts close. Maybe it wont, said Ron. Were not bloons td 6 any more danger here than we are at home, are we. Everywheres the same now. Id even say Hogwarts is best games, there are more wizards inside to defend the place. What dyou reckon, Harry. Im not coming back even if it does reopen, said Harry. Ron gaped at him, but Hermione said sadly, I knew you were going to say that. But then what will you do. Im going back to the Dursleys once more, because Dumbledore wanted me to, said Harry. But itll be a short visit, and then Ill be gone for good. But where will you go if you dont come back to school. I thought I might go back to Godrics Hollow, Harry muttered. He had had the idea in his head ever since the night of Dumbledores death. For me, it started there, all of it. Ive just got a feeling I need to go there. And I can visit my parents graves, Id like that. And then what. said Ron. Then Ive got to track down the rest of the Horcruxes, havent I. said Harry, his eyes upon Dumbledores white tomb, reflected in the water on the other side of the lake. Thats what he wanted me to do, thats why he told me all about Clash of clans army builder. If Dumbledore was right - and Im sure he was - there are still four of them out there. Phrase coc th12 bases charming got to find them and destroy them, and then Ive got to go after the seventh bit of Voldemorts soul, the bit thats still in his body, and Im the one whos going to kill him. And if I meet Severus Snape along the way, he added, so much the better for me, so much the worse for him. There was a long silence. The crowd had almost dispersed now, the stragglers giving the monumental figure of Grawp a wide berth as he cuddled Hagrid, whose howls of grief were still echoing across the water. Well be there, Harry, said Ron. What. At your aunt and uncles house, said Ron. And then well go with you wherever youre going. No - said Harry quickly; he had not counted on this, he had meant them to understand that he was undertaking this most dangerous journey alone. You said to us once before, said Hermione quietly, that there was time medieval kingdoms total turn back if we wanted to. Weve had time, havent we. Were with you whatever happens, said Ron. But mate, youre going to have to come round my mum and dads house before we do anything else, even Godrics Hollow. Why. Bill and Fleurs wedding, remember. Harry looked at him, startled; the idea that anything as normal as a wedding could still exist seemed incredible and yet wonderful.

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