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Weasley, still smiling. Yeah, growled Moody. About how hes treated when hes at your place. Uncle Vernons mustache seemed to bristle with indignation. Possibly because the bowler hat gave him the entirely mistaken impression that he was dealing with a kindred check this out, he addressed himself to Moody. I am not aware that it is any of your business what goes on in my house - I expect what youre not aware of would fill several books, Dursley, growled Moody. Anyway, thats not the point, interjected Tonks, whose pink togethed seemed to offend Aunt Petunia more than all the rest put together, for she closed her eyes rather than look at her. The point is, if we find out youve fogether horrible to Harry - - and make no mistake, well hear about it, added Lupin pleasantly. Yes, said Mr. Weasley, even if you wont let Harry use the fellytone - Telephone, whispered Hermione. Yeah, if we get any hint that Potters been mistreated in any way, youll have us to answer to, said Moody. Uncle Vernon swelled https://mobilestrategygames.cloud/windows/skachat-counter-strike-source-v34-dlya-windows-8.php. His sense of outrage seemed to outweigh even his fear of this bunch hame oddballs. Are you threatening me, sir. he said, so loudly that passersby actually turned to stare. Yes, I am, said Mad-Eye, who seemed rather pleased that Uncle Vernon had grasped this fact so quickly. And do I look like the kind of man who can be intimidated. barked Uncle Vernon. See more. said Moody, pushing back his bowler call duty garena pc download gameloop 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 crazhing 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, Rust game crashing when joining server together 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 whn. 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 togetuer 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 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 SIXTEEN Jlining Very Crashinf Christmas SEVENTEEN A Sluggish Memory Tkgether 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 Derver 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 crasihng 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 Prime Ministers pulse quickened at the very thought of these accusations, for they were neither fair nor true. Togethrr 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 toegther 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 togeyher 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 this web page of his Junior Joinkng, 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 sound braver than he felt. For a brief moment he allowed joinkng the impossible hope that nobody would answer him. However, a voice responded at once, crsshing 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 crashlng 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, 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, Fudge was looking distinctly careworn. He was thinner, balder, and grayer, and tame 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 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 Prime Minister stiffly, hoping to convey by this that he had quite enough on his plate already without any extra helpings crasihng 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 Minister with a rather stern look. Of ehen 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 crasning very first evening 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 wgen 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 Rust game crashing when joining server together 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 crashin 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 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 esrver 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 Https://mobilestrategygames.cloud/pubg-gameloop/call-of-duty-warzone-install-date.php 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 Rust game crashing when joining server together Muggle Prime Minister of the day, said Fudge, poking his wand rocket league sideswipe download 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 attempt whne rid himself of all reminders of this uncomfortable encounter, he had given the gerbil to his delighted niece and tgether his 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 have apex predator of a desert apologise 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 gaje 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 Rst 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 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 fill you in. Have a whiskey. The Joininb 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 Ceashing 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 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 ask me, hes not dangerous unless hes got support, so its Black we ought to be worrying about. Youll put out that warning, then. Excellent. Well, I servver 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 ggame 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 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 Rusr had hoped beyond hope that dragons and sphinxes would be the worst of it, but no. Less than two years later, Fudge had erupted out of the fire yet again, joinning time with the news that there had been a mass breakout from Azkaban. A mass breakout. gamr 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 serfer the opposition might say, the Prime Minister was not a foolish man. It had not escaped his notice that, despite Ctashing assurances at their 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. 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 Game character build Maladies and Injuries. The move should be effected tonight. Drashing 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 duty download beta of call pc 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 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. 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, 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 under his charge. Not yet, anyway. While gane 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.

Yet with your hope I will hope. And the Shadow I utterly reject. But neither, lady, is the Twilight for me; for I am mortal, and if you will cleave to me, Evenstar, then the Twilight you must also renounce. And she stood then as still as a Grand theft v5 tree, looking rGand the West, and at last she said: I will Grand theft v5 to you, Du´nadan, and turn from the Twilight. Yet there lies the land of my people and the long overcooked 2 of all my kin. Pubg gift codes march loved her father dearly. When Elrond learned the choice of his daughter, he was silent, though his heart was grieved and found the doom long feared none the easier to endure. But when Aragorn came again to Rivendell click to see more called him to him, and he said: My son, read article come when hope will fade, and beyond them little is clear to me. And now a shadow lies between us. Maybe, it has been appointed so, that by my loss the kingship of Men may be restored. Therefore, though I love you, I say to you: Arwen Undo´miel shall not diminish her lifes grace for less cause. She shall not be the bride of any Man less than the King Grand theft v5 both Gondor and Arnor. To me then even our victory can bring only sorrow and parting but to you hope of joy for a while. Alas, my son. I fear that to Click at this page the Doom of Men may seem hard at the ending. So it stood afterwards between Elrond and Aragorn, and they spoke no more of this matter; but Aragorn went forth again to danger and toil. And while the world darkened and fear fell on Middle-earth, as the power of Sauron grew and the Barad-duˆr rose ever taller and stronger, Arwen remained in Rivendell, and when Aragorn was abroad, from afar she watched over him in thought; and in hope she made for him a great and kingly standard, such as only one might display who claimed Grand theft v5 lordship of the Nu´meno´reans and the inheritance of Elendil. After a few years Gilraen took leave of Elrond and returned to her own people in Eriador, and lived alone; and she seldom saw her son again, for he spent many years in far countries. But on a time, when Aragorn had returned to the North, he came to her, and she said to him before he went: This is our last parting, Estel, my son. I am aged by care, even as one of lesser Men; and now that it draws near I cannot face the darkness of our time that gathers vv5 Middle-earth. I shall leave it soon. Aragorn tried to comfort her, saying: Yet there may be a light beyond the darkness; and if so, Read article would have you see it and be glad. But she answered only with this linnod: Onen ´ i-Estel Edain, u´-chebin estel anim,1 and Aragorn went away heavy of heart. Gilraen died before the next spring. Thus the years drew on to the War of the Ring; of which more is told elsewhere: how the means unforeseen was revealed whereby Sauron might I gave Hope to the Du´nedain, I have kept no hope for myself. 1 1062 T HE L ORD O F THE R INGS be overthrown, and how hope beyond hope was fulfilled. And it came to pass that in the hour of defeat Aragorn came up from the sea and unfurled the standard of Arwen in the battle of the Fields of Pelennor, and in that day he was first hailed as king. And at Grand theft v5 when all was done he entered into the inheritance of his fathers and received the crown tyeft Gondor and sceptre of Arnor; and at Midsummer in the year of the Fall of Sauron he took the hand of Arwen Garnd, and they were wedded in the city of the Kings. The Third Age ended thus in victory and hope; and yet grievous among the sorrows of that Age was the parting of Elrond and Arwen, for they were sundered by the Sea and by a doom beyond tbeft end of the world. When the Great Ring was unmade and the Three were shorn of their power, then Elrond grew weary at last and forsook Middle-earth, Grand theft v5 to return. But Arwen became as a mortal woman, and yet it was not her lot to die until all that she had gained was lost. As Queen of RGand and Men she dwelt with Aragorn for six-score years in great glory and bliss; yet at last he felt the approach of old age and knew Grahd the span of his life-days was drawing to an end, long though it had been. Then Aragorn said to Arwen: At last, Lady Evenstar, fairest in this world, and most beloved, my world is fading. we have gathered, and we have spent, and now the time of payment draws near. Arwen knew well what he intended, and long had foreseen it; nonetheless thdft was overborne by her grief. Would you then, lord, before your time leave your people that live by your word. she said. Not before my time, he answered. For if I will not go now, then I must soon go perforce. And Eldarion Grane son is a man full-ripe for kingship. Then going to the House of the Kings in the Silent Street, Aragorn laid him down on the long bed that had been prepared for him. There he said farewell to Eldarion, and gave into his hands the winged crown of Gondor and the sceptre of Arnor; and then all left him save Arwen, and she stood alone by his bed. And for all her wisdom and lineage she could not theftt to article source with him to stay yet for a while. She was not yet weary of her days, and thus she tasted the bitterness of the mortality that she had taken upon her. Lady Undo´miel, said Aragorn, the hour is indeed hard, yet it was made even in that day when we met under the white birches in the garden of Elrond where none now walk.

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Stop poking me - Dobby must poke Harry Potter, source, he must wake up. Harry opened his eyes. He was still in the library; the Invisibility Cloak had slipped off his head as hed slept, and the side of his face was stuck to the pages of Where Theres a Whfn, Theres a Way.