“Voldemort caught up with you?” said Lupin sharply. “What happened? How did you escape?”
Harry explained how the Death Eaters pursuing them had seemed to recognize him as the true Harry, how they had abandoned the chase, how they must have summoned Voldemort, who had appeared just before he and Hagrid had reached the sanctuary of Tonks’s parents.
“They recognized you? But how? What had you done?”
“I…” Harry tried to remember; the whole journey seemed like a blur of panic and confusion. “I saw Stan Shunpike…. You know, the bloke who was the conductor on the Knight Bus? And I tried to Disarm him instead of – well, he doesn’t know what he’s doing, does he? He must be Imperiused!”
Lupin looked aghast.
“Harry, the time for Disarming is past! These people are trying to capture and kill you! At least Stun if you aren’t prepared to kill!”
“We were hundreds of feet up! Stan’s not himself, and if I Stunned him and he’d fallen, he’d have died the same as if I’d used Avada Kedavra! Expelliarmus saved me from Voldemort two years ago,” Harry added defiantly. Lupin was reminding him of the sneering Hufflepuff Zacharias Smith, who had jeered at Harry for wanting to teach Dumbledore’s Army how to Disarm.
“Yes, Harry,” said Lupin with painful restraint, “and a great number of Death Eaters witnessed that happening! Forgive me, but it was a very unusual move then, under the imminent threat of death. Repeating it tonight in front of Death Eaters who either witnessed or heard about the first occasion was close to suicidal!”
“So you think I should have killed Stan Shunpike?” said Harry angrily.
“Of course not,” said Lupin, “but the Death Eaters – frankly, most people! – would have expected you to attack back! Expelliarmus is a useful spell, Harry, but the Death Eaters seem to think it is your signature move, and I urge you not to let it become so!”
Lupin was making Harry feel idiotic, and yet there was still a grain of defiance inside him.
“I won’t blast people out of my way just because they’re there,” said Harry, “That’s Voldemort’s job.”
Lupin’s retort was lost: Finally succeeding in squeezing through the door, Hagrid staggered to a chair and sat down; it collapsed beneath him. Ignoring his mingled oaths and apologies, Harry addressed Lupin again.
“Will George be okay?”
All Lupin’s frustration with Harry seemed to drain away at the question.
“I think so, although there’s no chance of replacing his ear, not when it’s been cursed off – ”
There was a scuffling from outside. Lupin dived for the back door; Harry leapt over Hagrid’s legs and sprinted into the yard.
Two figures had appeared in the yard, and as Harry ran toward them he realized they were Hermione, now returning to her normal appearance, and Kingsley, both clutching a bent coat hanger, Hermione flung herself into Harry’s arms, but Kingsley showed no pleasure at the sight of any of them. Over Hermione’s shoulder Harry saw him raise his wand and point it at Lupin’s chest.
“The last words Albus Dumbledore spoke to the pair of us!”
“‘Harry is the best hope we have. Trust him,’” said Lupin calmly.
Kingsley turned his wand on Harry, but Lupin said, “It’s him, I’ve checked!”
“All right, all right!” said Kingsley, stowing his wand back beneath his cloak, “But somebody betrayed us! They knew, they knew it was tonight!”
“So it seems,” replied Lupin, “but apparently they did not realize that there would be seven Harrys.”
“Small comfort!” snarled Kingsley. “Who else is back?”
“Only Harry, Hagrid, George, and me.”
Hermione stifled a little moan behind her hand.
“What happened to you?” Lupin asked Kingsley.
“Followed by five, injured two, might’ve killed one,” Kingsley reeled off, “and we saw You-Know-Who as well, he joined the chase halfway through but vanished pretty quickly. Remus, he can – ”
“Fly,” supplied Harry. “I saw him too, he came after Hagrid and me.”
“So that’s why he left, to follow you!” said Kingsley, “I couldn’t understand why he’d vanished. But what made him change targets?”
“Harry behaved a little too kindly to Stan Shunpike,” said Lupin.
“Stan?” repeated Hermione. “But I thought he was in Azkaban?”
Kingsley let out a mirthless laugh.
“Hermione, there’s obviously been a mass breakout which the Ministry has hushed up. Travers’s hood fell off when I cursed him, he’s supposed to be inside too. But what happened to you, Remus? Where’s George?”
“He lost an ear,” said Lupin.
“lost an –?” repeated Hermione in a high voice.
“Snape’s work,” said Lupin.
“Snape?” shouted Harry. “You didn’t say – ”
“He lost his hood during the chase. Sectumsempra was always a specialty of Snape’s. I wish I could say I’d paid him back in kind, but it was all I could do to keep George on the broom after he was injured, he was losing so much blood.”
Silence fell between the four of them as they looked up at the sky. There was no sign of movement; the stars stared back, unblinking, indifferent, unobscured by flying friends. Where was Ron? Where were Fred and Mr. Weasley? Where were Bill, Fleur, Tonks, Mad-Eye, and Mundungus?
“Harry, give us a hand!” called Hagrid hoarsely from the door, in which he was stuck again. Glad of something to do, Harry pulled him free, the headed through the empty kitchen and back into the sitting room, where Mrs. Weasley and Ginny were still tending to George. Mrs. Weasley had staunched his bleeding now, and by the lamplight Harry saw a clean gaping hole where George’s ear had been.
“How is he?”
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Tuesday, November 30, 2010
Monday, November 29, 2010
If I tell you to leave me, and save yourself
“Yes.”
“If I tell you to leave me, and save yourself, you will do as I tell you?”
“I—”
“Harry?”
They looked at each other for a moment.
“Yes, sir.”
“Very good. Then I wish you to go and fetch your Cloak and meet me in the Entrance Hall in five minutes’ time.”
Dumbledore turned back to look out of the fiery window; the sun was now a ruby-red glare along the horizon. Harry walked quickly from the office and down the spiral
staircase. His mind was oddly clear all of a sudden. He knew what to do.
Ron and Hermione were sitting together in the common room when he came back. ‘What does Dumbledore want?’ Hermione said at once. ‘Harry, are you okay?’ she added
anxiously.
“I'm fine,” said Harry shortly, racing past them. He dashed up the stairs and into his dormitory, where he flung open his trunk and pulled out the Marauder's Map and
a pair of balled-up socks. Then he sped back down the stairs and into the common room, skidding to a halt where Ron and Hermione sat, looking stunned.
“I haven't got much time,” Harry panted, “Dumbledore thinks I'm getting my Invisibility Cloak. Listen ...”
Quickly he told them where he was going, and why. He did not pause either for Hermione's gasps of horror or for Ron's hasty questions; they could work out the finer
details for themselves later.
“... so you see what this means?” Harry finished at a gallop. “Dumbledore won't be here tonight, so Malfoy's going to have another clear shot at whatever he's up to.
No, listen to me!” he hissed angrily, as both Ron and Hermione showed every sign of interrupting. “I know it was Malfoy celebrating in the Room of Requirement. Here—
” He shoved the Marauder's Map into Hermione's hand. “You've got to watch him and you've got to watch Snape, too. Use anyone else who you can rustle up from the DA.
Hermione, those contact Galleons will still work, right? Dumbledore says he's put extra protection in the school, but if Snape's involved, he'll know what Dumbledore's
protection is, and how to avoid it—but he won't be expecting you lot to be on the watch, will he?”
“Harry—” began Hermione, her eyes huge with fear.
“I haven't got time to argue,” said Harry curtly. “Take this as well—” He thrust the socks into Ron's hands.
“Thanks,” said Ron. “Er—why do I need socks?”
“You need what's wrapped in them, it's the Felix Felicis. Share it between yourselves and Ginny too. Say goodbye to her from me. I'd better go, Dumbledore's waiting—
”
“If I tell you to leave me, and save yourself, you will do as I tell you?”
“I—”
“Harry?”
They looked at each other for a moment.
“Yes, sir.”
“Very good. Then I wish you to go and fetch your Cloak and meet me in the Entrance Hall in five minutes’ time.”
Dumbledore turned back to look out of the fiery window; the sun was now a ruby-red glare along the horizon. Harry walked quickly from the office and down the spiral
staircase. His mind was oddly clear all of a sudden. He knew what to do.
Ron and Hermione were sitting together in the common room when he came back. ‘What does Dumbledore want?’ Hermione said at once. ‘Harry, are you okay?’ she added
anxiously.
“I'm fine,” said Harry shortly, racing past them. He dashed up the stairs and into his dormitory, where he flung open his trunk and pulled out the Marauder's Map and
a pair of balled-up socks. Then he sped back down the stairs and into the common room, skidding to a halt where Ron and Hermione sat, looking stunned.
“I haven't got much time,” Harry panted, “Dumbledore thinks I'm getting my Invisibility Cloak. Listen ...”
Quickly he told them where he was going, and why. He did not pause either for Hermione's gasps of horror or for Ron's hasty questions; they could work out the finer
details for themselves later.
“... so you see what this means?” Harry finished at a gallop. “Dumbledore won't be here tonight, so Malfoy's going to have another clear shot at whatever he's up to.
No, listen to me!” he hissed angrily, as both Ron and Hermione showed every sign of interrupting. “I know it was Malfoy celebrating in the Room of Requirement. Here—
” He shoved the Marauder's Map into Hermione's hand. “You've got to watch him and you've got to watch Snape, too. Use anyone else who you can rustle up from the DA.
Hermione, those contact Galleons will still work, right? Dumbledore says he's put extra protection in the school, but if Snape's involved, he'll know what Dumbledore's
protection is, and how to avoid it—but he won't be expecting you lot to be on the watch, will he?”
“Harry—” began Hermione, her eyes huge with fear.
“I haven't got time to argue,” said Harry curtly. “Take this as well—” He thrust the socks into Ron's hands.
“Thanks,” said Ron. “Er—why do I need socks?”
“You need what's wrapped in them, it's the Felix Felicis. Share it between yourselves and Ginny too. Say goodbye to her from me. I'd better go, Dumbledore's waiting—
”
“You have no idea of the remorse
“You have no idea of the remorse Professor Snape felt when he realised how Lord Voldemort had interpreted the prophecy, Harry. I believe it to be the greatest regret
of his life and the reason that he returned—”
“But he‘s a very good Occlumens, isn't he, sir?” said Harry, whose voice was shaking with the effort of keeping it steady. “And isn't Voldemort convinced that
Snape's on his side, even now? Professor ... how can you be sure Snape's on our side?”
Dumbledore did not speak for a moment; he looked as though he was trying to make up his mind about something. At last he said, “I am sure. I trust Severus Snape
completely.”
Harry breathed deeply for a few moments in an effort to steady himself. It did not work.
“Well, I don't!” he said, as loudly as before. “He's up to something with Draco Malfoy right now, right under your nose, and you still—”
“We have discussed this, Harry,” said Dumbledore, and now he sounded stern again. “I have told you my views.”
“'You're leaving the school tonight and I'll bet you haven't even considered that Snape and Malfoy might decide to —”
“To what?” asked Dumbledore, his eyebrows raised. “What is it that you suspect them of doing, precisely?”
“I ... they're up to something!” said Harry and his hands curled into fists as he said it. “Professor Trelawney was just in the Room of Requirement, trying to hide
her sherry bottles, and she heard Malfoy whooping, celebrating! He's trying to mend something dangerous in there and if you ask me he's fixed it at last and you're
about to just walk out of school without—”
“Enough,” said Dumbledore. He said it quite calmly, and yet Harry fell silent at once; he knew that he had finally crossed some invisible line. “Do you think that I
have once left the school unprotected during my absences this year? I have not. Tonight, when I leave, there will again be additional protection in place. Please do not
suggest that I do not take the safety of my students seriously, Harry.”
“I didn't—” mumbled Harry, a little abashed, but Dumbledore cut across him.
“I do not wish to discuss the matter any further.”
Harry bit back his retort, scared that he had gone too far, that he had ruined his chance of accompanying Dumbledore, but Dumbledore went on, “Do you wish to come with
me tonight?”
“Yes,” said Harry at once.
“Very well, then: listen.”
Dumbledore drew himself up to his full height.
“I take you with me on one condition: that you obey any command I might give you at once, and without question.”
“Of course.”
“Be sure to understand me, Harry. I mean that you must follow even such orders as “run", “hide” or “go back". Do I have your word?”
“I—yes, of course.”
“If I tell you to hide, you will do so?”
“Yes.”
“If I tell you to flee, you will obey?”
of his life and the reason that he returned—”
“But he‘s a very good Occlumens, isn't he, sir?” said Harry, whose voice was shaking with the effort of keeping it steady. “And isn't Voldemort convinced that
Snape's on his side, even now? Professor ... how can you be sure Snape's on our side?”
Dumbledore did not speak for a moment; he looked as though he was trying to make up his mind about something. At last he said, “I am sure. I trust Severus Snape
completely.”
Harry breathed deeply for a few moments in an effort to steady himself. It did not work.
“Well, I don't!” he said, as loudly as before. “He's up to something with Draco Malfoy right now, right under your nose, and you still—”
“We have discussed this, Harry,” said Dumbledore, and now he sounded stern again. “I have told you my views.”
“'You're leaving the school tonight and I'll bet you haven't even considered that Snape and Malfoy might decide to —”
“To what?” asked Dumbledore, his eyebrows raised. “What is it that you suspect them of doing, precisely?”
“I ... they're up to something!” said Harry and his hands curled into fists as he said it. “Professor Trelawney was just in the Room of Requirement, trying to hide
her sherry bottles, and she heard Malfoy whooping, celebrating! He's trying to mend something dangerous in there and if you ask me he's fixed it at last and you're
about to just walk out of school without—”
“Enough,” said Dumbledore. He said it quite calmly, and yet Harry fell silent at once; he knew that he had finally crossed some invisible line. “Do you think that I
have once left the school unprotected during my absences this year? I have not. Tonight, when I leave, there will again be additional protection in place. Please do not
suggest that I do not take the safety of my students seriously, Harry.”
“I didn't—” mumbled Harry, a little abashed, but Dumbledore cut across him.
“I do not wish to discuss the matter any further.”
Harry bit back his retort, scared that he had gone too far, that he had ruined his chance of accompanying Dumbledore, but Dumbledore went on, “Do you wish to come with
me tonight?”
“Yes,” said Harry at once.
“Very well, then: listen.”
Dumbledore drew himself up to his full height.
“I take you with me on one condition: that you obey any command I might give you at once, and without question.”
“Of course.”
“Be sure to understand me, Harry. I mean that you must follow even such orders as “run", “hide” or “go back". Do I have your word?”
“I—yes, of course.”
“If I tell you to hide, you will do so?”
“Yes.”
“If I tell you to flee, you will obey?”
“I'm not scared!” said Harry at once
“I'm not scared!” said Harry at once, and it was perfectly true; fear was one emotion he was not feeling at all. “Which Horcrux is it? Where is it?”
“I am not sure which it is—though I think we can rule out the snake—but I believe it to be hidden in a cave on the coast many miles from here, a cave I have been
trying to locate for a very long time: the cave in which Tom Riddle once terrorised two children from his orphanage on their annual trip; you remember?”
“Yes,” said Harry. “How is it protected?”
“I do not know; I have suspicions that may be entirely wrong.” Dumbledore hesitated, then said, “Harry, I promised you that you could come with me, and I stand by
that promise, but it would be very wrong of me not to warn you that this will be exceedingly dangerous.”
“I'm coming,” said Harry, almost before Dumbledore had finished speaking. Boiling with anger at Snape, his desire to do something desperate and risky had increased
tenfold in the last few minutes. This seemed to show on Harry's face, for Dumbledore moved away from the window, and looked more closely at Harry, a slight crease
between his silver eyebrows.
“What has happened to you?”
“Nothing,” lied Harry promptly.
“What has upset you?”
“I'm not upset.”
“Harry, you were never a good Occlumens—”
The word was the spark that ignited Harry's fury.
“Snape!” he said, very loudly, and Fawkes gave a soft squawk behind them. “Snape's what's happened! He told Voldemort about the prophecy, it was him, he listened
outside the door, Trelawney told me!”
Dumbledore's expression did not change, but Harry thought his face whitened under the bloody tinge cast by the setting sun. For a long moment, Dumbledore said nothing.
“When did you find out about this?” he asked at last.
“Just now!” said Many, who was refraining from yelling with enormous difficulty. And then, suddenly, he could not stop himself. “AND YOU LET HIM TEACH HERE AND HE
TOLD VOLDEMORT TO GO AFTER MY MUM AND DAD!”
Breathing hard as though he were fighting, Harry turned away from Dumbledore, who still had not moved a muscle, and paced up and down the study, rubbing his knuckles in
his hand and exercising every last bit of restraint to prevent himself knocking things over. He wanted to rage and storm at Dumbledore, but he also wanted to go with
him to try and destroy the Horcrux; he wanted to tell him that he was a foolish old man for trusting Snape, but he was terrified that Dumbledore would not take him
along unless he mastered his anger ...
“Harry,” said Dumbledore quietly. “Please listen to me.”
It was as difficult to stop his relentless pacing as to refrain from shouting. Harry paused, biting his lip, and looked into Dumbledore's lined face.
“Professor Snape made a terrible—”
“Don't tell me it was a mistake, sir, he was listening at the door!”
“Please let me finish.” Dumbledore waited until Harry had nodded curtly, then went on. “Professor Snape made a terrible mistake. He was still in Lord Voldemort's
employ on the night he heard the first half of Professor Trelawney's prophecy. Naturally, he hastened to tell his master what he had heard, for it concerned his master
most deeply. But he did not know—he had no possible way of knowing—which boy Voldemort would hunt from then onwards, or that the parents he would destroy in his
murderous quest were people that Professor Snape knew, that they were your mother and father—”
Harry let out a yell of mirthless laughter.
“He hated my dad like he hated Sirius! Haven't you noticed, Professor, how the people Snape hates tend to end up dead?”
“I am not sure which it is—though I think we can rule out the snake—but I believe it to be hidden in a cave on the coast many miles from here, a cave I have been
trying to locate for a very long time: the cave in which Tom Riddle once terrorised two children from his orphanage on their annual trip; you remember?”
“Yes,” said Harry. “How is it protected?”
“I do not know; I have suspicions that may be entirely wrong.” Dumbledore hesitated, then said, “Harry, I promised you that you could come with me, and I stand by
that promise, but it would be very wrong of me not to warn you that this will be exceedingly dangerous.”
“I'm coming,” said Harry, almost before Dumbledore had finished speaking. Boiling with anger at Snape, his desire to do something desperate and risky had increased
tenfold in the last few minutes. This seemed to show on Harry's face, for Dumbledore moved away from the window, and looked more closely at Harry, a slight crease
between his silver eyebrows.
“What has happened to you?”
“Nothing,” lied Harry promptly.
“What has upset you?”
“I'm not upset.”
“Harry, you were never a good Occlumens—”
The word was the spark that ignited Harry's fury.
“Snape!” he said, very loudly, and Fawkes gave a soft squawk behind them. “Snape's what's happened! He told Voldemort about the prophecy, it was him, he listened
outside the door, Trelawney told me!”
Dumbledore's expression did not change, but Harry thought his face whitened under the bloody tinge cast by the setting sun. For a long moment, Dumbledore said nothing.
“When did you find out about this?” he asked at last.
“Just now!” said Many, who was refraining from yelling with enormous difficulty. And then, suddenly, he could not stop himself. “AND YOU LET HIM TEACH HERE AND HE
TOLD VOLDEMORT TO GO AFTER MY MUM AND DAD!”
Breathing hard as though he were fighting, Harry turned away from Dumbledore, who still had not moved a muscle, and paced up and down the study, rubbing his knuckles in
his hand and exercising every last bit of restraint to prevent himself knocking things over. He wanted to rage and storm at Dumbledore, but he also wanted to go with
him to try and destroy the Horcrux; he wanted to tell him that he was a foolish old man for trusting Snape, but he was terrified that Dumbledore would not take him
along unless he mastered his anger ...
“Harry,” said Dumbledore quietly. “Please listen to me.”
It was as difficult to stop his relentless pacing as to refrain from shouting. Harry paused, biting his lip, and looked into Dumbledore's lined face.
“Professor Snape made a terrible—”
“Don't tell me it was a mistake, sir, he was listening at the door!”
“Please let me finish.” Dumbledore waited until Harry had nodded curtly, then went on. “Professor Snape made a terrible mistake. He was still in Lord Voldemort's
employ on the night he heard the first half of Professor Trelawney's prophecy. Naturally, he hastened to tell his master what he had heard, for it concerned his master
most deeply. But he did not know—he had no possible way of knowing—which boy Voldemort would hunt from then onwards, or that the parents he would destroy in his
murderous quest were people that Professor Snape knew, that they were your mother and father—”
Harry let out a yell of mirthless laughter.
“He hated my dad like he hated Sirius! Haven't you noticed, Professor, how the people Snape hates tend to end up dead?”
Thursday, November 25, 2010
“It looks like he's eating her face, doesn't it?
“It looks like he's eating her face, doesn't it?” said Ginny dispassionately. “But I suppose he's got to refine his technique somehow. Good game, Harry.”
She patted him on the arm; Harry felt a swooping sensation in his stomach, but then she walked off to help herself to more Butterbeer. Crookshanks trotted after her,
his yellow eyes fixed upon Arnold.
Harry turned away from Ron, who did not look like he would be surfacing soon, just as the portrait hole was closing. With a sinking feeling, he thought he saw a mane of
bushy brown hair whipping out of sight.
He darted forward, sidestepped Romilda Vane again, and pushed open the portrait of the Fat Lady. The corridor outside, seemed to be deserted.
“Hermione?”
He found her in the first unlocked classroom he tried. She was sitting on the teacher's desk, alone except for a small ring of twittering yellow birds circling her
head, which she had clearly just conjured out of midair. Harry could not help admiring her spell-work at a time like this.
“Oh, hello, Harry,” she said in a brittle voice. “I was just practicing.”
“Yeah... they're—er — really good...” said Harry.
He had no idea what to say to her. He was just wondering whether there was any chance that she had not noticed Ron, that she had merely left the room because the party
was a little too rowdy, when she said, in an unnaturally high-pitched voice, “Ron seems to be enjoying the celebrations.”
“Er... does he?” said Harry.
“Don't pretend you didn't see him,” said Hermione. “He wasn't exactly hiding it, was—?”
The door behind them burst open. To Harry's horror, Ron came in, laughing, pulling Lavender by the hand.
“Oh,” he said, drawing up short at the sight of Harry and Hermione.
“Oops!” said Lavender, and she backed out of the room, giggling. The door swung shut behind her.
There was a horrible, swelling, billowing silence. Hermione was staring at Ron, who refused to look at her, but said with an odd mixture of bravado and awkwardness,
“Hi, Harry! Wondered where you'd got to!”
Hermione slid off the desk. The little flock of golden birds continued to twitter in circles around her head so that she looked like a strange, feathery model of the
solar system.
“You shouldn't leave Lavender waiting outside,” she said quietly. “She'll wonder where you've gone.”
She walked very slowly and erectly toward the door. Harry glanced at Ron, who was looking relieved that nothing worse had happened.
“Oppugno!” came a shriek from the doorway.
Harry spun around to see Hermione pointing her wand at Ron, her expression wild: the little flock of birds was speeding like a hail of fat golden bullets toward Ron,
who yelped and covered his face with his hands, but the birds attacked, pecking and clawing at every bit of flesh they could reach.
“Gerremoffme!” he yelled, but with one last look of vindictive fury, Hermione wrenched open the door and disappeared through it. Harry thought he heard a sob before
it slammed.
She patted him on the arm; Harry felt a swooping sensation in his stomach, but then she walked off to help herself to more Butterbeer. Crookshanks trotted after her,
his yellow eyes fixed upon Arnold.
Harry turned away from Ron, who did not look like he would be surfacing soon, just as the portrait hole was closing. With a sinking feeling, he thought he saw a mane of
bushy brown hair whipping out of sight.
He darted forward, sidestepped Romilda Vane again, and pushed open the portrait of the Fat Lady. The corridor outside, seemed to be deserted.
“Hermione?”
He found her in the first unlocked classroom he tried. She was sitting on the teacher's desk, alone except for a small ring of twittering yellow birds circling her
head, which she had clearly just conjured out of midair. Harry could not help admiring her spell-work at a time like this.
“Oh, hello, Harry,” she said in a brittle voice. “I was just practicing.”
“Yeah... they're—er — really good...” said Harry.
He had no idea what to say to her. He was just wondering whether there was any chance that she had not noticed Ron, that she had merely left the room because the party
was a little too rowdy, when she said, in an unnaturally high-pitched voice, “Ron seems to be enjoying the celebrations.”
“Er... does he?” said Harry.
“Don't pretend you didn't see him,” said Hermione. “He wasn't exactly hiding it, was—?”
The door behind them burst open. To Harry's horror, Ron came in, laughing, pulling Lavender by the hand.
“Oh,” he said, drawing up short at the sight of Harry and Hermione.
“Oops!” said Lavender, and she backed out of the room, giggling. The door swung shut behind her.
There was a horrible, swelling, billowing silence. Hermione was staring at Ron, who refused to look at her, but said with an odd mixture of bravado and awkwardness,
“Hi, Harry! Wondered where you'd got to!”
Hermione slid off the desk. The little flock of golden birds continued to twitter in circles around her head so that she looked like a strange, feathery model of the
solar system.
“You shouldn't leave Lavender waiting outside,” she said quietly. “She'll wonder where you've gone.”
She walked very slowly and erectly toward the door. Harry glanced at Ron, who was looking relieved that nothing worse had happened.
“Oppugno!” came a shriek from the doorway.
Harry spun around to see Hermione pointing her wand at Ron, her expression wild: the little flock of birds was speeding like a hail of fat golden bullets toward Ron,
who yelped and covered his face with his hands, but the birds attacked, pecking and clawing at every bit of flesh they could reach.
“Gerremoffme!” he yelled, but with one last look of vindictive fury, Hermione wrenched open the door and disappeared through it. Harry thought he heard a sob before
it slammed.
“Yes you did, Harry, and that's why everything went right
“Yes you did, Harry, and that's why everything went right, there were Slytherin players missing and Ron saved everything!”
“I didn't put it in!” said Harry, grinning broadly. He slipped his hand inside his jacket pocket and drew out the tiny bottle that Hermione had seen in his hand that
morning. It was full of golden potion and the cork was still tightly sealed with wax. “I wanted Ron to think I'd done it, so I faked it when I knew you were looking.”
He looked at Ron. “You saved everything because you felt lucky. You did it all yourself.”
He pocketed the potion again.
“There really wasn't anything in my pumpkin juice?” Ron said, astounded. “But the weather's good... and Vaisey couldn't play... I honestly haven't been given lucky
potion?”
Harry shook his head. Ron gaped at him for a moment, then rounded on Hermione, imitating her voice.
“You added Felix Felicis to Ron's juice this morning, that's why he saved everything! See! I can save goals without help, Hermione!”
“I never said you couldn't — Ron, you thought you'd been given it too!”
But Ron had already strode past her out of the door with his broomstick over his shoulder.
“Er,” said Harry into the sudden silence; he had not expected his plan to backfire like this, “shall... shall we go up to the party, then?”
“You go!” said Hermione, blinking back tears. “I'm sick of Ron at the moment, I don't know what I'm supposed to have done...”
And she stormed out of the changing room too.
Harry walked slowly back up the grounds toward the castle through the crowd, many of whom shouted congratulations at him, but he felt a great sense of let-down; he had
been sure that if Ron won the match, he and Hermione would be friends again immediately. He did not see how he could possibly explain to Hermione that what she had done
to offend Ron was kiss Viktor Krum, not when the offense had occurred so long ago.
Harry could not see Hermione at the Gryffindor celebration party, which was in full swing when he arrived. Renewed cheers and clapping greeted his appearance, and he
was soon surrounded by a mob of people congratulating him. What with trying to shake off the Creevey brothers, who wanted a blow-by-blow match analysis, and the large
group of girls that encircled him, laughing at his least amusing comments and batting their eyelids, it was some time before he could try and find Ron. At last, he
extricated himself from Romilda Vane, who was hinting heavily that she would like to go to Slughorn's Christmas party with him. As he was ducking toward the drinks
table, he walked straight into Ginny, Arnold the Pygmy Puff riding on her shoulder and Crookshanks mewing hopefully at her heels.
“Looking for Ron?” she asked, smirking. “He's over there, the filthy hypocrite.”
Harry looked into the corner she was indicating. There, in full view of the whole room, stood Ron wrapped so closely around Lavender Brown it was hard to tell whose
hands were whose.
“I didn't put it in!” said Harry, grinning broadly. He slipped his hand inside his jacket pocket and drew out the tiny bottle that Hermione had seen in his hand that
morning. It was full of golden potion and the cork was still tightly sealed with wax. “I wanted Ron to think I'd done it, so I faked it when I knew you were looking.”
He looked at Ron. “You saved everything because you felt lucky. You did it all yourself.”
He pocketed the potion again.
“There really wasn't anything in my pumpkin juice?” Ron said, astounded. “But the weather's good... and Vaisey couldn't play... I honestly haven't been given lucky
potion?”
Harry shook his head. Ron gaped at him for a moment, then rounded on Hermione, imitating her voice.
“You added Felix Felicis to Ron's juice this morning, that's why he saved everything! See! I can save goals without help, Hermione!”
“I never said you couldn't — Ron, you thought you'd been given it too!”
But Ron had already strode past her out of the door with his broomstick over his shoulder.
“Er,” said Harry into the sudden silence; he had not expected his plan to backfire like this, “shall... shall we go up to the party, then?”
“You go!” said Hermione, blinking back tears. “I'm sick of Ron at the moment, I don't know what I'm supposed to have done...”
And she stormed out of the changing room too.
Harry walked slowly back up the grounds toward the castle through the crowd, many of whom shouted congratulations at him, but he felt a great sense of let-down; he had
been sure that if Ron won the match, he and Hermione would be friends again immediately. He did not see how he could possibly explain to Hermione that what she had done
to offend Ron was kiss Viktor Krum, not when the offense had occurred so long ago.
Harry could not see Hermione at the Gryffindor celebration party, which was in full swing when he arrived. Renewed cheers and clapping greeted his appearance, and he
was soon surrounded by a mob of people congratulating him. What with trying to shake off the Creevey brothers, who wanted a blow-by-blow match analysis, and the large
group of girls that encircled him, laughing at his least amusing comments and batting their eyelids, it was some time before he could try and find Ron. At last, he
extricated himself from Romilda Vane, who was hinting heavily that she would like to go to Slughorn's Christmas party with him. As he was ducking toward the drinks
table, he walked straight into Ginny, Arnold the Pygmy Puff riding on her shoulder and Crookshanks mewing hopefully at her heels.
“Looking for Ron?” she asked, smirking. “He's over there, the filthy hypocrite.”
Harry looked into the corner she was indicating. There, in full view of the whole room, stood Ron wrapped so closely around Lavender Brown it was hard to tell whose
hands were whose.
Tuesday, November 23, 2010
Chapter 3 Will and Won't
Chapter 3 Will and Won't
Harry Potter was snoring loudly. He had been sitting in a chair beside his bedroom window for the best part of four hours, staring out at the darkening street, and had finally fallen asleep with one side of his face pressed against the cold win-dowpane, his glasses askew and his mouth wide open. The misty fug his breath had left on the window sparkled in the orange glare of the streetlamp outside, and the artificial light drained his face of all color, so that he looked ghostly beneath his shock of untidy black hair.
The room was strewn with various possessions and a good smattering of rubbish. Owl feathers, apple cores, and sweet wrappers littered the floor, a number of spellbooks lay higgledy-piggledy among the tangled robes on his bed, and a mess of newspapers sat in a puddle of light on his desk. The headline of one blared:
HARRY POTTER: THE CHOSEN ONE?
Rumors continue to fly about the mysterious recent disturbance at the Ministry of Magic, during which He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was sighted once more.
“We're not allowed to talk about it, don't ask me anything,” said one agitated Obliviator, who refused to give his name as he left the Ministry last night.
Nevertheless, highly placed sources within the Ministry have confirmed that the disturbance centered on the fabled Hall of Prophecy.
Though Ministry spokeswizards have hitherto refused even to confirm the existence of such a place, a growing number of the Wizarding community believe that the Death Eaters now serving sentences in Azkaban for trespass and attempted theft were attempting to steal a prophecy. The nature of that prophecy is unknown, although speculation is rife that it concerns Harry Potter, the only person ever known to have survived the Killing Curse, and who is also known to have been at the Ministry on the night in question. Some are going so far as to call Potter ‘the Chosen One,’ believing that the prophecy names him as the only one who will be able to rid us of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named.
The current whereabouts of the prophecy, if it exists, are unknown, although (cont. page 2, column 5)
A second newspaper lay beside the first. This one bore the headline:
SCRIMGEOUR SUCCEEDS FUDGE
Most of this front page was taken up with a large black-and-white picture of a man with a lionlike mane of thick hair and a rather ravaged face. The picture was moving—the man was waving at the ceiling.
Rufus Scrimgeour, previously Head of the Auror office in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, has succeeded Cornelius Fudge as Minister of Magic. The appointment has largely been greeted with enthusiasm by the Wizarding community, though rumors of a rift between the new Minister and Albus Dumbledore, newly reinstated Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, surfaced within hours of Scrimgeour taking office.
Scrimgeour's representatives admitted that he had met with Dumbledore at once upon taking possession of the top job, but refused to comment on the topics under discussion. Albus Dumbledore is known to (cont. page 3, column 2)
To the left of this paper sat another, which had been folded so that a story bearing the title MINISTRY GUARANTEES STUDENTS’ SAFETY safety was visible.
Newly appointed Minister of Magic, Rufus Scrimgeour, spoke today of the tough new measures taken by his Ministry to ensure the safety of students returning to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry this autumn.
“For obvious reasons, the Ministry will not be going into detail about its stringent new security plans,” said the Minister, although an insider confirmed that measures include defensive spells and charms, a complex array of counter-curses, and a small task force of Aurors dedicated solely to the protection of Hogwarts School.
Most seem reassured by the new Minister's tough stand on student safety. Said Mrs. Augusta Longbottom, “My grandson, Neville... good friend of Harry Potter's, incidentally, who fought the Death Eaters alongside him at the Ministry in June and —
But the rest of this story was obscured by the large birdcage standing on top of it. Inside it was a magnificent snowy owl. Her amber eyes surveyed the room imperiously, her head swiveling occasionally to gaze at her snoring master. Once or twice she clicked her beak impatiently, but Harry was too deeply asleep to hear her.
A large trunk stood in the very middle of the room. Its lid was open; it looked expectant; yet it was almost empty but for a residue of old underwear, sweets, empty ink bottles, and broken quills that coated the very bottom. Nearby, on the floor, lay a purple leaflet emblazoned with the words:
Issued on behalf of The Ministry of Magic
PROTECTING YOUR HOME AND FAMILY AGAINST DARK FORCES
The Wizarding community is currently under threat from an organization calling itself the Death Eaters. Observing the following simple security guidelines will help protect you, your family, and your home from attack.
1. You are advised not to leave the house alone.
2. Particular care should be taken during the hours of darkness. Wherever possible, arrange to complete journeys before night has fallen.
3. Review the security arrangements around your house, making sure that all family members are aware of emergency measures such as Shield and Disillusionment Charms, and, in the case of underage family members, Side-Along-Apparition.
4. Agree on security questions with close friends and family so as to detect Death Eaters masquerading as others by use of the Polyjuice Potion (see page 2).
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Harry Potter was snoring loudly. He had been sitting in a chair beside his bedroom window for the best part of four hours, staring out at the darkening street, and had finally fallen asleep with one side of his face pressed against the cold win-dowpane, his glasses askew and his mouth wide open. The misty fug his breath had left on the window sparkled in the orange glare of the streetlamp outside, and the artificial light drained his face of all color, so that he looked ghostly beneath his shock of untidy black hair.
The room was strewn with various possessions and a good smattering of rubbish. Owl feathers, apple cores, and sweet wrappers littered the floor, a number of spellbooks lay higgledy-piggledy among the tangled robes on his bed, and a mess of newspapers sat in a puddle of light on his desk. The headline of one blared:
HARRY POTTER: THE CHOSEN ONE?
Rumors continue to fly about the mysterious recent disturbance at the Ministry of Magic, during which He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was sighted once more.
“We're not allowed to talk about it, don't ask me anything,” said one agitated Obliviator, who refused to give his name as he left the Ministry last night.
Nevertheless, highly placed sources within the Ministry have confirmed that the disturbance centered on the fabled Hall of Prophecy.
Though Ministry spokeswizards have hitherto refused even to confirm the existence of such a place, a growing number of the Wizarding community believe that the Death Eaters now serving sentences in Azkaban for trespass and attempted theft were attempting to steal a prophecy. The nature of that prophecy is unknown, although speculation is rife that it concerns Harry Potter, the only person ever known to have survived the Killing Curse, and who is also known to have been at the Ministry on the night in question. Some are going so far as to call Potter ‘the Chosen One,’ believing that the prophecy names him as the only one who will be able to rid us of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named.
The current whereabouts of the prophecy, if it exists, are unknown, although (cont. page 2, column 5)
A second newspaper lay beside the first. This one bore the headline:
SCRIMGEOUR SUCCEEDS FUDGE
Most of this front page was taken up with a large black-and-white picture of a man with a lionlike mane of thick hair and a rather ravaged face. The picture was moving—the man was waving at the ceiling.
Rufus Scrimgeour, previously Head of the Auror office in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, has succeeded Cornelius Fudge as Minister of Magic. The appointment has largely been greeted with enthusiasm by the Wizarding community, though rumors of a rift between the new Minister and Albus Dumbledore, newly reinstated Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, surfaced within hours of Scrimgeour taking office.
Scrimgeour's representatives admitted that he had met with Dumbledore at once upon taking possession of the top job, but refused to comment on the topics under discussion. Albus Dumbledore is known to (cont. page 3, column 2)
To the left of this paper sat another, which had been folded so that a story bearing the title MINISTRY GUARANTEES STUDENTS’ SAFETY safety was visible.
Newly appointed Minister of Magic, Rufus Scrimgeour, spoke today of the tough new measures taken by his Ministry to ensure the safety of students returning to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry this autumn.
“For obvious reasons, the Ministry will not be going into detail about its stringent new security plans,” said the Minister, although an insider confirmed that measures include defensive spells and charms, a complex array of counter-curses, and a small task force of Aurors dedicated solely to the protection of Hogwarts School.
Most seem reassured by the new Minister's tough stand on student safety. Said Mrs. Augusta Longbottom, “My grandson, Neville... good friend of Harry Potter's, incidentally, who fought the Death Eaters alongside him at the Ministry in June and —
But the rest of this story was obscured by the large birdcage standing on top of it. Inside it was a magnificent snowy owl. Her amber eyes surveyed the room imperiously, her head swiveling occasionally to gaze at her snoring master. Once or twice she clicked her beak impatiently, but Harry was too deeply asleep to hear her.
A large trunk stood in the very middle of the room. Its lid was open; it looked expectant; yet it was almost empty but for a residue of old underwear, sweets, empty ink bottles, and broken quills that coated the very bottom. Nearby, on the floor, lay a purple leaflet emblazoned with the words:
Issued on behalf of The Ministry of Magic
PROTECTING YOUR HOME AND FAMILY AGAINST DARK FORCES
The Wizarding community is currently under threat from an organization calling itself the Death Eaters. Observing the following simple security guidelines will help protect you, your family, and your home from attack.
1. You are advised not to leave the house alone.
2. Particular care should be taken during the hours of darkness. Wherever possible, arrange to complete journeys before night has fallen.
3. Review the security arrangements around your house, making sure that all family members are aware of emergency measures such as Shield and Disillusionment Charms, and, in the case of underage family members, Side-Along-Apparition.
4. Agree on security questions with close friends and family so as to detect Death Eaters masquerading as others by use of the Polyjuice Potion (see page 2).
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Monday, November 22, 2010
Chapter 42
Chapter 42
Alexey Alexandrovitch had seen nothing striking or improper in the fact that his wife was sitting with Vronsky at a table apart, in eager conversation with him about something. But he noticed that to the rest of the party this appeared something striking and improper, and for that reason it seemed to him too to be improper. He made up his mind that he must speak of it to his wife. On reaching home Alexey Alexandrovitch went to his study, as he usually did, seated himself in his low chair, opened a book on the Papacy at the place where he had laid the paper-knife in it, and read till one o'clock, just as he usually did. But from time to time he rubbed his high forehead and shook his head, as though to drive away something. At his usual time he got up and made his toilet for the night. Anna Arkadyevna had not yet come in. With a book under his arm he went upstairs. But this evening, instead of his usual thought and meditations upon official details, his thoughts were absorbed by his wife and something disagreeable connected with her. Contrary to his usual habit, he did not get into bed, but fell to walking up and down the rooms with his hands clasped behind his back. He could not go to bed, feeling that it was absolutely needful for him first to think thoroughly over the position that had just arisen.
When Alexey Alexandrovitch had made up his mind that he must talk to his wife about it, it had seemed a very easy and simple matter. But now, when he began to think over the question that had just presented itself, it seemed to him very complicated and difficult.
Alexey Alexandrovitch was not jealous. Jealousy according to his notions was an insult to one's wife, and one ought to have confidence in one's wife. Why one ought to have confidence-- that is to say, complete conviction that his young wife would always love him--he did not ask himself. But he had no experience of lack of confidence, because he had confidence in her, and told himself that he ought to have it. Now, though his conviction that jealousy was a shameful feeling and that one ought to feel confidence, had not broken down, he felt that he was standing face to face with something illogical and irrational, and did not know what was to be done. Alexey Alexandrovitch was standing face to face with life, with the possibility of his wife's loving someone other than himself, and this seemed to him very irrational and incomprehensible because it was life itself. All his life Alexey Alexandrovitch had lived and worked in official spheres, having to do with the reflection of life. And every time he had stumbled against life itself he had shrunk away from it. Now he experienced a feeling akin to that of a man who, wile calmly crossing a precipice by a bridge, should suddenly discover that the bridge is broken, and that there is a chasm below. That chasm was life itself, the bridge that artificial life in which Alexey Alexandrovitch had lived. For the first time the question presented itself to him of the possibility of his wife's loving someone else, and he was horrified at it.
She strained every effort of her mind
She strained every effort of her mind to say what ought to be said. But instead of that she let her eyes rest on him, full of love, and made no answer.
"It's come!" he thought in ecstasy. "When I was beginning to despair, and it seemed there would be no end--it's come! she loves me! She owns it!"
"Then do this for me: never say such things to me, and let us be friends," she said in words; but her eyes spoke quite differently.
"Friends we shall never be, you know that yourself. Whether we shall be the happiest or the wretchedest of people--that's in your hands."
She would have said something, but he interrupted her.
"I ask one thing only: I ask for the right to hope, to suffer as I do. But if even that cannot be, command me to disappear, and I disappear. You shall not see me if my presence is distasteful to you."
"I don't want to drive you away."
"Only don't change anything, leave everything as it is," he said in a shaky voice. "Here's your husband."
At that instant Alexey Alexandrovitch did in fact walk into the room with his calm, awkward gait.
Glancing at his wife and Vronsky, he went up to the lady of the house, and sitting down for a cup of tea, began talking in his deliberate, always audible voice, in his habitual tone of banter, ridiculing someone.
"Your Rambouillet is in full conclave," he said, looking round at all the party; "the graces and the muses."
But Princess Betsy could not endure that tone of his-- "sneering," as she called it, using the English word, and like a skillful hostess she at once brought him into a serious conversation on the subject of universal conscription. Alexey Alexandrovitch was immediately interested in the subject, and began seriously defending the new imperial decree against Princess Betsy, who had attacked it.
Vronsky and Anna still sat at the little table.
"This is getting indecorous," whispered one lady, with an expressive glance at Madame Karenina, Vronsky, and her husband.
"What did I tell you?" said Anna's friend.
But not only those ladies, almost everyone in the room, even the Princess Myakaya and Betsy herself, looked several times in the direction of the two who had withdrawn from the general circle, as though that were a disturbing fact. Alexey Alexandrovitch was the only person who did not once look in that direction, and was not diverted from the interesting discussion he had entered upon.
Noticing the disagreeable impression that was being made on everyone, Princess Betsy slipped someone else into her place to listen to Alexey Alexandrovitch, and went up to Anna.
"I'm always amazed at the clearness and precision of your husband's language," she said. "The most transcendental ideas seem to be within my grasp when he's speaking."
"Oh, yes!" said Anna, radiant with a smile of happiness, and not understanding a word of what Betsy had said. She crossed over to the big table and took part in the general conversation.
Alexey Alexandrovitch, after staying half an hour, went up to his wife and suggested that they should go home together. But she answered, not looking at him, that she was staying to supper. Alexey Alexandrovitch made his bows and withdrew.
The fat old Tatar, Madame Karenina's coachman, was with difficulty holding one of her pair of grays, chilled with the cold and rearing at the entrance. A footman stood opening the carriage door. The hall porter stood holding open the great door of the house. Anna Arkadyevna, with her quick little hand, was unfastening the lace of her sleeve, caught in the hook of her fur cloak, and with bent head listening to the words Vronsky murmured as he escorted her down.
"You've said nothing, of course, and I ask nothing," he was saying; "but you know that friendship's not what I want: that there's only one happiness in life for me, that word that you dislike so...yes, love!..."
"Love," she repeated slowly, in an inner voice, and suddenly, at the very instant she unhooked the lace, she added, "Why I don't like the word is that it means too much to me, far more than you can understand," and she glanced into his face. "Au revoir!"
She gave him her hand, and with her rapid, springy step she passed by the porter and vanished into the carriage.
Her glance, the touch of her hand, set him aflame. He kissed the palm of his hand where she had touched it, and went home, happy in the sense that he had got nearer to the attainment of his aims that evening than during the last two months.
"It's come!" he thought in ecstasy. "When I was beginning to despair, and it seemed there would be no end--it's come! she loves me! She owns it!"
"Then do this for me: never say such things to me, and let us be friends," she said in words; but her eyes spoke quite differently.
"Friends we shall never be, you know that yourself. Whether we shall be the happiest or the wretchedest of people--that's in your hands."
She would have said something, but he interrupted her.
"I ask one thing only: I ask for the right to hope, to suffer as I do. But if even that cannot be, command me to disappear, and I disappear. You shall not see me if my presence is distasteful to you."
"I don't want to drive you away."
"Only don't change anything, leave everything as it is," he said in a shaky voice. "Here's your husband."
At that instant Alexey Alexandrovitch did in fact walk into the room with his calm, awkward gait.
Glancing at his wife and Vronsky, he went up to the lady of the house, and sitting down for a cup of tea, began talking in his deliberate, always audible voice, in his habitual tone of banter, ridiculing someone.
"Your Rambouillet is in full conclave," he said, looking round at all the party; "the graces and the muses."
But Princess Betsy could not endure that tone of his-- "sneering," as she called it, using the English word, and like a skillful hostess she at once brought him into a serious conversation on the subject of universal conscription. Alexey Alexandrovitch was immediately interested in the subject, and began seriously defending the new imperial decree against Princess Betsy, who had attacked it.
Vronsky and Anna still sat at the little table.
"This is getting indecorous," whispered one lady, with an expressive glance at Madame Karenina, Vronsky, and her husband.
"What did I tell you?" said Anna's friend.
But not only those ladies, almost everyone in the room, even the Princess Myakaya and Betsy herself, looked several times in the direction of the two who had withdrawn from the general circle, as though that were a disturbing fact. Alexey Alexandrovitch was the only person who did not once look in that direction, and was not diverted from the interesting discussion he had entered upon.
Noticing the disagreeable impression that was being made on everyone, Princess Betsy slipped someone else into her place to listen to Alexey Alexandrovitch, and went up to Anna.
"I'm always amazed at the clearness and precision of your husband's language," she said. "The most transcendental ideas seem to be within my grasp when he's speaking."
"Oh, yes!" said Anna, radiant with a smile of happiness, and not understanding a word of what Betsy had said. She crossed over to the big table and took part in the general conversation.
Alexey Alexandrovitch, after staying half an hour, went up to his wife and suggested that they should go home together. But she answered, not looking at him, that she was staying to supper. Alexey Alexandrovitch made his bows and withdrew.
The fat old Tatar, Madame Karenina's coachman, was with difficulty holding one of her pair of grays, chilled with the cold and rearing at the entrance. A footman stood opening the carriage door. The hall porter stood holding open the great door of the house. Anna Arkadyevna, with her quick little hand, was unfastening the lace of her sleeve, caught in the hook of her fur cloak, and with bent head listening to the words Vronsky murmured as he escorted her down.
"You've said nothing, of course, and I ask nothing," he was saying; "but you know that friendship's not what I want: that there's only one happiness in life for me, that word that you dislike so...yes, love!..."
"Love," she repeated slowly, in an inner voice, and suddenly, at the very instant she unhooked the lace, she added, "Why I don't like the word is that it means too much to me, far more than you can understand," and she glanced into his face. "Au revoir!"
She gave him her hand, and with her rapid, springy step she passed by the porter and vanished into the carriage.
Her glance, the touch of her hand, set him aflame. He kissed the palm of his hand where she had touched it, and went home, happy in the sense that he had got nearer to the attainment of his aims that evening than during the last two months.
Sunday, November 21, 2010
He knew she was there by the rapture and the
He knew she was there by the rapture and the terror that seized on his heart. She was standing talking to a lady at the opposite end of the ground. There was apparently nothing striking either in her dress or her attitude. But for Levin she was as easy to find in that crowd as a rose among nettles. Everything was made bright by her. She was the smile that shed light on all round her. "Is it possible I can go over there on the ice, go up to her?" he thought. The place where she stood seemed to him a holy shrine, unapproachable, and there was one moment when he was almost retreating, so overwhelmed was he with terror. He had to make an effort to master himself, and to remind himself that people of all sorts were moving about her, and that he too might come there to skate. He walked down, for a long while avoiding looking at her as at the sun, but seeing her, as one does the sun, without looking.
On that day of the week and at that time of day people of one set, all acquainted with one another, used to meet on the ice. There were crack skaters there, showing off their skill, and learners clinging to chairs with timid, awkward movements, boys, and elderly people skating with hygienic motives. They seemed to Levin an elect band of blissful beings because they were here, near her. All the skaters, it seemed, with perfect self-possession, skated towards her, skated by her, even spoke to her, and were happy, quite apart from her, enjoying the capital ice and the fine weather.
Nikolay Shtcherbatsky, Kitty's cousin, in a short jacket and tight trousers, was sitting on a garden seat with his skates on. Seeing Levin, he shouted to him:
"Ah, the first skater in Russia! Been here long? First-rate ice--do put your skates on."
"I haven't got my skates," Levin answered, marveling at this boldness and ease in her presence, and not for one second losing sight of her, though he did not look at her. He felt as though the sun were coming near him. She was in a corner, and turning out her slender feet in their high boots with obvious timidity, she skated towards him. A boy in Russian dress, desperately waving his arms and bowed down to the ground, overtook her. She skated a little uncertainly; taking her hands out of the little muff that hung on a cord, she held them ready for emergency, and looking towards Levin, whom she had recognized, she smiled at him, and at her own fears. When she had got round the turn, she gave herself a push off with one foot, and skated straight up to Shtcherbatsky. Clutching at his arm, she nodded smiling to Levin. She was more splendid that he had imagined her.
On that day of the week and at that time of day people of one set, all acquainted with one another, used to meet on the ice. There were crack skaters there, showing off their skill, and learners clinging to chairs with timid, awkward movements, boys, and elderly people skating with hygienic motives. They seemed to Levin an elect band of blissful beings because they were here, near her. All the skaters, it seemed, with perfect self-possession, skated towards her, skated by her, even spoke to her, and were happy, quite apart from her, enjoying the capital ice and the fine weather.
Nikolay Shtcherbatsky, Kitty's cousin, in a short jacket and tight trousers, was sitting on a garden seat with his skates on. Seeing Levin, he shouted to him:
"Ah, the first skater in Russia! Been here long? First-rate ice--do put your skates on."
"I haven't got my skates," Levin answered, marveling at this boldness and ease in her presence, and not for one second losing sight of her, though he did not look at her. He felt as though the sun were coming near him. She was in a corner, and turning out her slender feet in their high boots with obvious timidity, she skated towards him. A boy in Russian dress, desperately waving his arms and bowed down to the ground, overtook her. She skated a little uncertainly; taking her hands out of the little muff that hung on a cord, she held them ready for emergency, and looking towards Levin, whom she had recognized, she smiled at him, and at her own fears. When she had got round the turn, she gave herself a push off with one foot, and skated straight up to Shtcherbatsky. Clutching at his arm, she nodded smiling to Levin. She was more splendid that he had imagined her.
Chapter 9
At four o'clock, conscious of his throbbing heart, Levin stepped out of a hired sledge at the Zoological Gardens, and turned along the path to the frozen mounds and the skating ground, knowing that he would certainly find her there, as he had seen the Shtcherbatskys' carriage at the entrance.
It was a bright, frosty day. Rows of carriages, sledges, drivers, and policemen were standing in the approach. Crowds of well-dressed people, with hats bright in the sun, swarmed about the entrance and along the well-swept little paths between the little houses adorned with carving in the Russian style. The old curly birches of the gardens, all their twigs laden with snow, looked as though freshly decked in sacred vestments.
He walked along the path towards the skating-ground, and kept saying to himself--"You mustn't be excited, you must be calm. What's the matter with you? What do you want? Be quiet, stupid," he conjured his heart. And the more he tried to compose himself, the more breathless he found himself. An acquaintance met him and called him by his name, but Levin did not even recognize him. He went towards the mounds, whence came the clank of the chains of sledges as they slipped down or were dragged up, the rumble of the sliding sledges, and the sounds of merry voices. He walked on a few steps, and the skating-ground lay open before his eyes, and at once, amidst all the skaters, he knew her.
It was a bright, frosty day. Rows of carriages, sledges, drivers, and policemen were standing in the approach. Crowds of well-dressed people, with hats bright in the sun, swarmed about the entrance and along the well-swept little paths between the little houses adorned with carving in the Russian style. The old curly birches of the gardens, all their twigs laden with snow, looked as though freshly decked in sacred vestments.
He walked along the path towards the skating-ground, and kept saying to himself--"You mustn't be excited, you must be calm. What's the matter with you? What do you want? Be quiet, stupid," he conjured his heart. And the more he tried to compose himself, the more breathless he found himself. An acquaintance met him and called him by his name, but Levin did not even recognize him. He went towards the mounds, whence came the clank of the chains of sledges as they slipped down or were dragged up, the rumble of the sliding sledges, and the sounds of merry voices. He walked on a few steps, and the skating-ground lay open before his eyes, and at once, amidst all the skaters, he knew her.
"If you want to, do; but I shouldn't advise it,
"If you want to, do; but I shouldn't advise it," said Sergey Ivanovitch. "As regards myself, I have no fear of your doing so; he will not make you quarrel with me; but for your own sake, I should say you would do better not to go. You can't do him any good; still, do as you please."
"Very likely I can't do any good, but I feel--especially at such a moment--but that's another thing--I feel I could not be at peace."
"Well, that I don't understand," said Sergey Ivanovitch. "One thing I do understand," he added; "it's a lesson in humility. I have come to look very differently and more charitably on what is called infamous since brother Nikolay has become what he is...you know what he did..."
"Oh, it's awful, awful!" repeated Levin.
After obtaining his brother's address from Sergey Ivanovitch's footman, Levin was on the point of setting off at once to see him, but on second thought he decided to put off his visit till the evening. The first thing to do to set his heart at rest was to accomplish what he had come to Moscow for. From his brother's Levin went to Oblonsky's office, and on getting news of the Shtcherbatskys from him, he drove to the place where he had been told he might find Kitty.
"Very likely I can't do any good, but I feel--especially at such a moment--but that's another thing--I feel I could not be at peace."
"Well, that I don't understand," said Sergey Ivanovitch. "One thing I do understand," he added; "it's a lesson in humility. I have come to look very differently and more charitably on what is called infamous since brother Nikolay has become what he is...you know what he did..."
"Oh, it's awful, awful!" repeated Levin.
After obtaining his brother's address from Sergey Ivanovitch's footman, Levin was on the point of setting off at once to see him, but on second thought he decided to put off his visit till the evening. The first thing to do to set his heart at rest was to accomplish what he had come to Moscow for. From his brother's Levin went to Oblonsky's office, and on getting news of the Shtcherbatskys from him, he drove to the place where he had been told he might find Kitty.
Thursday, November 18, 2010
‘I don't know,’ said Hermione miserably
‘I don't know,’ said Hermione miserably. Harry saw that she looked much the worse for wear; her hair was full of twigs and leaves, her robes were ripped in several places and there were numerous scratches on her face and arms. He knew he must look little better.
‘I reckon it's over, yeh know!’ said Hagrid, still squinting towards the stadium. ‘Look— there's people comin’ out already—if yeh two hurry yeh'll be able ter blend in with the crowd an’ no one'll know yeh weren't there!’
‘Good idea,’ said Harry. ‘Well ... see you later, then, Hagrid.’
‘I don't believe him,’ said Hermione in a very unsteady voice, the moment they were out of earshot of Hagrid. ‘I don't believe him. I really don't believe him.’
‘Calm down,’ said Harry.
‘Calm down!’ she said feverishly. ‘A giant! A giant in the Forest! And we're supposed to give him English lessons! Always assuming, of course, we can get past the herd of murderous centaurs on the way in and out! I—don't—believe— him!’
‘We haven't got to do anything yet!’ Harry tried to reassure her in a quiet voice, as they joined a stream of jabbering Hufflepuffs heading back towards the castle. ‘He's not asking us to do anything unless he gets chucked out and that might not even happen.’
‘Oh, come off it, Harry!’ said Hermione angrily, stopping dead in her tracks so that the people behind had to swerve to avoid her. ‘Of course he's going to be chucked out and, to be perfectly honest, after what we've just seen, who can blame Umbridge?’
There was a pause in which Harry glared at her, and her eyes filled slowly with tears.
‘You didn't mean that,’ said Harry quietly.
‘No ... well ... all right ... I didn't,’ she said, wiping her eyes angrily. ‘But why does he have to make life so difficult for himself—for us?’
‘I dunno—’
‘Weasley is our King,
Weasley is our King,
He didn't let the Quaffle in,
Weasley is our King ...’
‘And I wish they'd stop singing that stupid song,’ said Hermione miserably, ‘haven't they gloated enough?’
A great tide of students was moving up the sloping lawns from the pitch.
‘Oh, let's get in before we have to meet the Slytherins,’ said Hermione.
‘Weasley can save anything,
He never leaves a single ring,
That's why Gryffindors all sing:
Weasley is our King. ’
‘Hermione ...’ said Harry slowly.
The song was growing louder, but it was issuing not from a crowd of green-and-silver-clad Slytherins, but from a mass of red and gold moving slowly towards the castle, bearing a solitary figure upon its many shoulders.
‘Weasley is our King,
Weasley is our King,
He didn't let the Quaffle in,
Weasley is our King ...’
‘No?’ said Hermione in a hushed voice.
‘YES!’ said Harry loudly.
‘HARRY! HERMIONE!’ yelled Ron, waving the silver Quidditch cup in the air and looking quite beside himself. ‘WE DID IT! WE WON!’
They beamed up at him as he passed. There was a scrum at the door of the castle and Ron's head got rather badly bumped on the lintel, but nobody seemed to want to put him down. Still singing, the crowd squeezed itself into the Entrance Hall and out of sight. Harry and Hermione watched them go, beaming, until the last echoing strains of ‘Weasley is our King’ died away. Then they turned to each other, their smiles fading.
‘We'll save our news till tomorrow, shall we?’ said Harry.
‘Yes, all right,’ said Hermione wearily. ‘I'm not in any hurry.’
They climbed the steps together. At the front doors both instinctively looked back at the Forbidden Forest. Harry was not sure whether or not it was his imagination, but he rather thought he saw a small cloud of birds erupting into the air over the tree tops in the distance, almost as though the tree in which they had been nesting had just been pulled up by the roots.
‘I reckon it's over, yeh know!’ said Hagrid, still squinting towards the stadium. ‘Look— there's people comin’ out already—if yeh two hurry yeh'll be able ter blend in with the crowd an’ no one'll know yeh weren't there!’
‘Good idea,’ said Harry. ‘Well ... see you later, then, Hagrid.’
‘I don't believe him,’ said Hermione in a very unsteady voice, the moment they were out of earshot of Hagrid. ‘I don't believe him. I really don't believe him.’
‘Calm down,’ said Harry.
‘Calm down!’ she said feverishly. ‘A giant! A giant in the Forest! And we're supposed to give him English lessons! Always assuming, of course, we can get past the herd of murderous centaurs on the way in and out! I—don't—believe— him!’
‘We haven't got to do anything yet!’ Harry tried to reassure her in a quiet voice, as they joined a stream of jabbering Hufflepuffs heading back towards the castle. ‘He's not asking us to do anything unless he gets chucked out and that might not even happen.’
‘Oh, come off it, Harry!’ said Hermione angrily, stopping dead in her tracks so that the people behind had to swerve to avoid her. ‘Of course he's going to be chucked out and, to be perfectly honest, after what we've just seen, who can blame Umbridge?’
There was a pause in which Harry glared at her, and her eyes filled slowly with tears.
‘You didn't mean that,’ said Harry quietly.
‘No ... well ... all right ... I didn't,’ she said, wiping her eyes angrily. ‘But why does he have to make life so difficult for himself—for us?’
‘I dunno—’
‘Weasley is our King,
Weasley is our King,
He didn't let the Quaffle in,
Weasley is our King ...’
‘And I wish they'd stop singing that stupid song,’ said Hermione miserably, ‘haven't they gloated enough?’
A great tide of students was moving up the sloping lawns from the pitch.
‘Oh, let's get in before we have to meet the Slytherins,’ said Hermione.
‘Weasley can save anything,
He never leaves a single ring,
That's why Gryffindors all sing:
Weasley is our King. ’
‘Hermione ...’ said Harry slowly.
The song was growing louder, but it was issuing not from a crowd of green-and-silver-clad Slytherins, but from a mass of red and gold moving slowly towards the castle, bearing a solitary figure upon its many shoulders.
‘Weasley is our King,
Weasley is our King,
He didn't let the Quaffle in,
Weasley is our King ...’
‘No?’ said Hermione in a hushed voice.
‘YES!’ said Harry loudly.
‘HARRY! HERMIONE!’ yelled Ron, waving the silver Quidditch cup in the air and looking quite beside himself. ‘WE DID IT! WE WON!’
They beamed up at him as he passed. There was a scrum at the door of the castle and Ron's head got rather badly bumped on the lintel, but nobody seemed to want to put him down. Still singing, the crowd squeezed itself into the Entrance Hall and out of sight. Harry and Hermione watched them go, beaming, until the last echoing strains of ‘Weasley is our King’ died away. Then they turned to each other, their smiles fading.
‘We'll save our news till tomorrow, shall we?’ said Harry.
‘Yes, all right,’ said Hermione wearily. ‘I'm not in any hurry.’
They climbed the steps together. At the front doors both instinctively looked back at the Forbidden Forest. Harry was not sure whether or not it was his imagination, but he rather thought he saw a small cloud of birds erupting into the air over the tree tops in the distance, almost as though the tree in which they had been nesting had just been pulled up by the roots.
Wednesday, November 17, 2010
With a sudden rush of understanding
With a sudden rush of understanding, Harry realised who the people in the end beds must be. He cast around wildly for some means of distracting the others so that Neville could leave the ward unnoticed and unquestioned,
but Ron had also looked up at the sound of the name ‘Longbottom', and before Harry could stop him had called out, ‘Neville!’
Neville jumped and cowered as though a bullet had narrowly missed him.
‘It's us, Neville!’ said Ron brightly, getting to his feet. ‘Have you seen—? Lockhart's here! Who've you been visiting?’
‘Friends of yours, Neville, dear?’ said Neville's grandmother graciously, bearing down upon them all.
Neville looked as though he would rather be anywhere in the world but here. A dull purple flush was creeping up his plump face and he was not making eye contact with any of them.
‘Ah, yes,’ said his grandmother, looking closely at Harry and sticking out a shrivelled, clawlike hand for him to shake. ‘Yes, yes, I know who you are, of course. Neville speaks most highly of you.’
‘Er—thanks,’ said Harry, shaking hands. Neville did not look at him, but surveyed his own feet, the colour deepening in his face all the while.
‘And you two are clearly Weasleys,’ Mrs. Longbottom continued, proffering her hand regally to Ron and Ginny in turn. ‘Yes, I know your parents—not well, of course—but fine people, fine people ... and you must be Hermione
Granger?’
Hermione looked rather startled that Mrs. Longbottom knew her name, but shook hands all the same.
‘Yes, Neville's told me all about you. Helped him out of a few sticky spots, haven't you? He's a good boy,’ she said, casting a sternly appraising look down her rather bony nose at Neville, ‘but be hasn't got his father's talent,
I'm afraid to say.’ And she jerked her head in the direction of the two beds at the end of the ward, so that the stuffed vulture on her hat trembled alarmingly.
‘What?’ said Ron, looking amazed. (Harry wanted to stamp on Ron's foot, but that sort of thing is much harder to bring off unnoticed when you're wearing jeans rather than robes.) ‘Is that your dad down the end, Neville?’
‘What's this?’ said Mrs. Longbottom sharply. ‘Haven't you told your friends about your parents, Neville?’
Neville took a deep breath, looked up at the ceiling and shook his head. Harry could not remember ever feeling sorrier for anyone, but he could not think of any way of helping Neville out of the situation.
‘Well, it's nothing to be ashamed of!’ said Mrs. Longbottom angrily. ‘You should be proud, Neville, proud!They didn't give their health and their sanity so their only son would be ashamed of them, you know!’
‘I'm not ashamed,’ said Neville, very faintly, still looking anywhere but at Harry and the others. Ron was now standing on tiptoe to look over at the inhabitants of the two beds.
‘Well, you've got a funny way of showing it!’ said Mrs. Longbottom. ‘My son and his wife,’ she said, turning haughtily to Harry, Ron, Hermione and Ginny, ‘were tortured into insanity by You-Know-Who's followers.’
Hermione and Ginny both clapped their hands over their mouths. Ron stopped craning his neck to catch a glimpse of Neville's parents and looked mortified.
‘They were Aurors, you know, and very well respected within the wizarding community,’ Mrs Longbottom went on. ‘Highly gifted, the pair of them. I—yes, Alice dear, what is it?’
Neville's mother had come edging down the ward in her nightdress. She no longer had the plump, happy-looking face Harry had seen in Moody's old photograph of the original Order of the Phoenix. Her face was thin and
worn now, her eyes seemed overlarge and her hair, which had turned white, was wispy and dead-looking. She did not seem to want to speak, or perhaps she was not able to, but she made timid motions towards Neville,
holding something in her outstretched hand.
‘Again?’ said Mrs Longbottom, sounding slightly weary. ‘Very well, Alice dear, very well— Neville, take it, whatever it is.’
But Neville had already stretched out his hand, into which his mother dropped an empty Drooble's Best Blowing Gum wrapper.
‘Very nice, dear,’ said Neville's grandmother in a falsely cheery voice, patting his mother on the shoulder.
But Neville said quietly, ‘Thanks, Mum.’
His mother tottered away, back up the ward, humming to herself. Neville looked around at the others, his expression defiant, as though daring them to laugh, but Harry did not think he'd ever found anything less funny in his
life.
‘Well, we'd better get back,’ sighed Mrs. Longbottom, drawing on long green gloves. ‘Very nice to have met you all. Neville, put that wrapper in the bin, she must have given you enough of them to paper your bedroom by now.’
But as they left, Harry was sure he saw Neville slip the sweet wrapper into his pocket.
The door closed behind them.
‘I never knew,’ said Hermione, who looked tearful.
‘Nor did I,’ said Ron rather hoarsely.
‘Nor me,’ whispered Ginny.
They all looked at Harry.
‘I did,’ he said glumly. ‘Dumbledore told me but I promised I wouldn't tell anyone ... that's what Bellatrix Lestrange got sent to Azkaban for, using the Cruciatus Curse on Neville's parents until they lost their minds.’
‘Bellatrix Lestrange did that?’ whispered Hermione, horrified. ‘That woman Kreacher's got a photo of in his den?’
There was a long silence, broken by Lockhart's angry voice.
‘Look, I didn't learn joined-up writing for nothing, you know!’
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but Ron had also looked up at the sound of the name ‘Longbottom', and before Harry could stop him had called out, ‘Neville!’
Neville jumped and cowered as though a bullet had narrowly missed him.
‘It's us, Neville!’ said Ron brightly, getting to his feet. ‘Have you seen—? Lockhart's here! Who've you been visiting?’
‘Friends of yours, Neville, dear?’ said Neville's grandmother graciously, bearing down upon them all.
Neville looked as though he would rather be anywhere in the world but here. A dull purple flush was creeping up his plump face and he was not making eye contact with any of them.
‘Ah, yes,’ said his grandmother, looking closely at Harry and sticking out a shrivelled, clawlike hand for him to shake. ‘Yes, yes, I know who you are, of course. Neville speaks most highly of you.’
‘Er—thanks,’ said Harry, shaking hands. Neville did not look at him, but surveyed his own feet, the colour deepening in his face all the while.
‘And you two are clearly Weasleys,’ Mrs. Longbottom continued, proffering her hand regally to Ron and Ginny in turn. ‘Yes, I know your parents—not well, of course—but fine people, fine people ... and you must be Hermione
Granger?’
Hermione looked rather startled that Mrs. Longbottom knew her name, but shook hands all the same.
‘Yes, Neville's told me all about you. Helped him out of a few sticky spots, haven't you? He's a good boy,’ she said, casting a sternly appraising look down her rather bony nose at Neville, ‘but be hasn't got his father's talent,
I'm afraid to say.’ And she jerked her head in the direction of the two beds at the end of the ward, so that the stuffed vulture on her hat trembled alarmingly.
‘What?’ said Ron, looking amazed. (Harry wanted to stamp on Ron's foot, but that sort of thing is much harder to bring off unnoticed when you're wearing jeans rather than robes.) ‘Is that your dad down the end, Neville?’
‘What's this?’ said Mrs. Longbottom sharply. ‘Haven't you told your friends about your parents, Neville?’
Neville took a deep breath, looked up at the ceiling and shook his head. Harry could not remember ever feeling sorrier for anyone, but he could not think of any way of helping Neville out of the situation.
‘Well, it's nothing to be ashamed of!’ said Mrs. Longbottom angrily. ‘You should be proud, Neville, proud!They didn't give their health and their sanity so their only son would be ashamed of them, you know!’
‘I'm not ashamed,’ said Neville, very faintly, still looking anywhere but at Harry and the others. Ron was now standing on tiptoe to look over at the inhabitants of the two beds.
‘Well, you've got a funny way of showing it!’ said Mrs. Longbottom. ‘My son and his wife,’ she said, turning haughtily to Harry, Ron, Hermione and Ginny, ‘were tortured into insanity by You-Know-Who's followers.’
Hermione and Ginny both clapped their hands over their mouths. Ron stopped craning his neck to catch a glimpse of Neville's parents and looked mortified.
‘They were Aurors, you know, and very well respected within the wizarding community,’ Mrs Longbottom went on. ‘Highly gifted, the pair of them. I—yes, Alice dear, what is it?’
Neville's mother had come edging down the ward in her nightdress. She no longer had the plump, happy-looking face Harry had seen in Moody's old photograph of the original Order of the Phoenix. Her face was thin and
worn now, her eyes seemed overlarge and her hair, which had turned white, was wispy and dead-looking. She did not seem to want to speak, or perhaps she was not able to, but she made timid motions towards Neville,
holding something in her outstretched hand.
‘Again?’ said Mrs Longbottom, sounding slightly weary. ‘Very well, Alice dear, very well— Neville, take it, whatever it is.’
But Neville had already stretched out his hand, into which his mother dropped an empty Drooble's Best Blowing Gum wrapper.
‘Very nice, dear,’ said Neville's grandmother in a falsely cheery voice, patting his mother on the shoulder.
But Neville said quietly, ‘Thanks, Mum.’
His mother tottered away, back up the ward, humming to herself. Neville looked around at the others, his expression defiant, as though daring them to laugh, but Harry did not think he'd ever found anything less funny in his
life.
‘Well, we'd better get back,’ sighed Mrs. Longbottom, drawing on long green gloves. ‘Very nice to have met you all. Neville, put that wrapper in the bin, she must have given you enough of them to paper your bedroom by now.’
But as they left, Harry was sure he saw Neville slip the sweet wrapper into his pocket.
The door closed behind them.
‘I never knew,’ said Hermione, who looked tearful.
‘Nor did I,’ said Ron rather hoarsely.
‘Nor me,’ whispered Ginny.
They all looked at Harry.
‘I did,’ he said glumly. ‘Dumbledore told me but I promised I wouldn't tell anyone ... that's what Bellatrix Lestrange got sent to Azkaban for, using the Cruciatus Curse on Neville's parents until they lost their minds.’
‘Bellatrix Lestrange did that?’ whispered Hermione, horrified. ‘That woman Kreacher's got a photo of in his den?’
There was a long silence, broken by Lockhart's angry voice.
‘Look, I didn't learn joined-up writing for nothing, you know!’
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Tuesday, November 16, 2010
‘Oh—no,’ said Hermione, coming out of her reverie
‘Oh—no,’ said Hermione, coming out of her reverie, ‘no, it's always packed and really noisy. I've told the others to meet us in the Hog's Head, that other pub, you know the one, it's not on the main road. I think it's a bit ... you know ... dodgy ... but students don't normally go in there, so I don't think we'll be overheard.’
They walked down the main street past Zonko's Wizarding Joke Shop, where they were not surprised to see Fred, George and Lee Jordan, past the post office, from which owls issued at regular intervals, and turned up a side-street at the top of which stood a small inn. A battered wooden sign hung from a rusty bracket over the door, with a picture on it of a wild boar's severed head, leaking blood on to the white cloth around it. The sign creaked in the wind as they approached. All three of them hesitated outside the door.
‘Well, come on,’ said Hermione, slightly nervously. Harry led the way inside.
It was not at all like the Three Broomsticks, whose large bar gave an impression of gleaming warmth and cleanliness. The Hog's Head bar comprised one small, dingy and very dirty room that smelled strongly of something that might have been goats. The bay windows were so encrusted with grime that very little daylight could permeate the room, which was lit instead with the stubs of candles sitting on rough wooden tables. The floor seemed at first glance to be compressed earth, though as Harry stepped on to it he realised that there was stone beneath what seemed to be the accumulated filth of centuries.
Harry remembered Hagrid mentioning this pub in his first year: ‘Yeh get a lot o’ funny folk in the Hog's Head,’ he had said, explaining how he had won a dragon's egg from a hooded stranger there. At the time Harry had wondered why Hagrid had not found it odd that the stranger kept his face hidden throughout their encounter; now he saw that keeping your face hidden was something of a fashion in the Hog's Head. There was a man at the bar whose whole head was wrapped in dirty grey bandages, though he was still managing to gulp endless glasses of some smoking, fiery substance through a slit over his mouth; two figures shrouded in hoods sat at a table in one of the windows; Harry might have thought them dementors if they had not been talking in strong Yorkshire accents, and in a shadowy corner beside the fireplace sat a witch with a thick, black veil that fell to her toes. They could just see the tip of her nose because it caused the veil to protrude slightly.
‘I don't know about this, Hermione,’ Harry muttered, as they crossed to the bar. He was looking particularly at the heavily veiled witch. ‘Has it occurred to you Umbridge might be under that?’
Hermione cast an appraising eye over the veiled figure.
‘Umbridge is shorter than that woman,’ she said quietly. ‘And anyway, even if Umbridge does come in here there's nothing she can do to stop us, Harry, because I've double- and triple-checked the school rules. We're not out of bounds; I specifically asked Professor Flitwick whether students were allowed to come in the Hog's Head, and he said yes, but he advised me strongly to bring our own glasses. And I've looked up everything I can think of about study groups and homework groups and they're definitely allowed. I just don't think it's a good idea if we parade what we're doing.’
‘No,’ said Harry drily, ‘especially as it's not exactly a homework group you're planning, is it?’
The barman sidled towards them out of a back room. He was a grumpy-looking old man with a great deal of long grey hair and beard. He was tall and thin and looked vaguely familiar to Harry.
‘What?’ he grunted.
‘Three Butterbeers, please,’ said Hermione.
The man reached beneath the counter and pulled up three very dusty, very dirty bottles, which he slammed on the bar.
‘Six Sickles,’ he said.
‘I'll get them,’ said Harry quickly, passing over the silver. The barman's eyes travelled over Harry, resting for a fraction of a second on his scar. Then he turned away and deposited Harry's money in an ancient wooden till whose drawer slid open automatically to receive it. Harry, Ron and Hermione retreated to the furthest table from the bar and sat down, looking around. The man in the dirty grey bandages rapped the counter with his knuckles and received another smoking drink from the barman.
‘You know what?’ Ron murmured, looking over at the bar with enthusiasm. ‘We could order anything we liked in here. I bet that bloke would sell us anything, he wouldn't care. I've always wanted to try Firewhisky—’
‘You—are—a—prefect,’ snarled Hermione.
‘Oh,’ said Ron, the smile fading from his face. ‘Yeah ...’
‘So, who did you say is supposed to be meeting us?’ Harry asked, wrenching open the rusty top of his Butterbeer and taking a swig.
They walked down the main street past Zonko's Wizarding Joke Shop, where they were not surprised to see Fred, George and Lee Jordan, past the post office, from which owls issued at regular intervals, and turned up a side-street at the top of which stood a small inn. A battered wooden sign hung from a rusty bracket over the door, with a picture on it of a wild boar's severed head, leaking blood on to the white cloth around it. The sign creaked in the wind as they approached. All three of them hesitated outside the door.
‘Well, come on,’ said Hermione, slightly nervously. Harry led the way inside.
It was not at all like the Three Broomsticks, whose large bar gave an impression of gleaming warmth and cleanliness. The Hog's Head bar comprised one small, dingy and very dirty room that smelled strongly of something that might have been goats. The bay windows were so encrusted with grime that very little daylight could permeate the room, which was lit instead with the stubs of candles sitting on rough wooden tables. The floor seemed at first glance to be compressed earth, though as Harry stepped on to it he realised that there was stone beneath what seemed to be the accumulated filth of centuries.
Harry remembered Hagrid mentioning this pub in his first year: ‘Yeh get a lot o’ funny folk in the Hog's Head,’ he had said, explaining how he had won a dragon's egg from a hooded stranger there. At the time Harry had wondered why Hagrid had not found it odd that the stranger kept his face hidden throughout their encounter; now he saw that keeping your face hidden was something of a fashion in the Hog's Head. There was a man at the bar whose whole head was wrapped in dirty grey bandages, though he was still managing to gulp endless glasses of some smoking, fiery substance through a slit over his mouth; two figures shrouded in hoods sat at a table in one of the windows; Harry might have thought them dementors if they had not been talking in strong Yorkshire accents, and in a shadowy corner beside the fireplace sat a witch with a thick, black veil that fell to her toes. They could just see the tip of her nose because it caused the veil to protrude slightly.
‘I don't know about this, Hermione,’ Harry muttered, as they crossed to the bar. He was looking particularly at the heavily veiled witch. ‘Has it occurred to you Umbridge might be under that?’
Hermione cast an appraising eye over the veiled figure.
‘Umbridge is shorter than that woman,’ she said quietly. ‘And anyway, even if Umbridge does come in here there's nothing she can do to stop us, Harry, because I've double- and triple-checked the school rules. We're not out of bounds; I specifically asked Professor Flitwick whether students were allowed to come in the Hog's Head, and he said yes, but he advised me strongly to bring our own glasses. And I've looked up everything I can think of about study groups and homework groups and they're definitely allowed. I just don't think it's a good idea if we parade what we're doing.’
‘No,’ said Harry drily, ‘especially as it's not exactly a homework group you're planning, is it?’
The barman sidled towards them out of a back room. He was a grumpy-looking old man with a great deal of long grey hair and beard. He was tall and thin and looked vaguely familiar to Harry.
‘What?’ he grunted.
‘Three Butterbeers, please,’ said Hermione.
The man reached beneath the counter and pulled up three very dusty, very dirty bottles, which he slammed on the bar.
‘Six Sickles,’ he said.
‘I'll get them,’ said Harry quickly, passing over the silver. The barman's eyes travelled over Harry, resting for a fraction of a second on his scar. Then he turned away and deposited Harry's money in an ancient wooden till whose drawer slid open automatically to receive it. Harry, Ron and Hermione retreated to the furthest table from the bar and sat down, looking around. The man in the dirty grey bandages rapped the counter with his knuckles and received another smoking drink from the barman.
‘You know what?’ Ron murmured, looking over at the bar with enthusiasm. ‘We could order anything we liked in here. I bet that bloke would sell us anything, he wouldn't care. I've always wanted to try Firewhisky—’
‘You—are—a—prefect,’ snarled Hermione.
‘Oh,’ said Ron, the smile fading from his face. ‘Yeah ...’
‘So, who did you say is supposed to be meeting us?’ Harry asked, wrenching open the rusty top of his Butterbeer and taking a swig.
Monday, November 15, 2010
‘The Ministry of Magic wishes you a pleasant day,’ said the woman's voice.
‘The Ministry of Magic wishes you a pleasant day,’ said the woman's voice.
The door of the telephone box sprang open and Mr. Weasley stepped out of it, followed by Harry, whose mouth had fallen open.
They were standing at one end of a very long and splendid hall with a highly polished, dark wood floor. The peacock blue ceiling was inlaid with gleaming golden symbols that kept moving and changing like some enormous heavenly noticeboard. The wall's on each side were panelled in shiny dark wood and had many gilded fireplaces set into them. Every few seconds a witch or wizard would emerge from one of the left-hand fireplaces with a soft whoosh; on the right-hand side, short queues were forming before each fireplace, waiting to depart.
Halfway down the hall was a fountain. A group of golden statues, larger than life-size, stood in the middle of a circular pool. Tallest of them all was a noble-looking wizard with his wand pointing straight up in the air. Grouped around him were a beautiful witch, a centaur, a goblin and a house-elf. The last three were all looking adoringly up at the witch and wizard. Glittering jets of water were flying from the ends of the two wands, the point of the centaur's arrow, the tip of the goblin's hat, and each of the house-elf's ears, so that the tinkling hiss of falling water was added to the pops and cracks of the Apparators and the clatter of footsteps as hundreds of witches and wizards, most of whom were wearing glum, early-morning looks, strode towards a set of golden gates at the far end of the hall.
‘This way,’ said Mr. Weasley.
They joined the throng, wending their way between the Ministry workers, some of whom were carrying tottering piles of parchment, others battered briefcases, still others were reading the Daily Prophet while they walked. As they passed the fountain Harry saw silver Sickles and bronze Knuts glinting up at him from the bottom of the pool. A small smudged sign beside it read:
All proceeds from the fountain of magical brethren will be given to St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries
If I'm not expelled from Hogwarts, I'll put in ten Galleons, Harry found himself thinking desperately.
‘Over here, Harry,’ said Mr. Weasley, and they stepped out of the stream of Ministry employees heading for the golden gates. Seated at a desk to the left, beneath a sign saying SECURITY, a badly-shaven wizard in peacock-blue robes looked up as they approached and put down his Daily Prophet.
‘I'm escorting a visitor,’ said Mr. Weasley, gesturing towards Harry.
‘Step over here,’ said the wizard in a bored voice.
Harry walked closer to him and the wizard held up a long golden rod, thin and flexible as a car aerial, and passed it up and down Harry's front and back.
‘Wand,’ grunted the security wizard at Harry, putting down the golden instrument and holding out his hand.
Harry produced his wand. The wizard dropped it on to a strange brass instrument, which looked something like a set of scales with only one dish. It began to vibrate. A narrow strip of parchment came speeding out of a slit in the base. The wizard tore this off and read the writing on it.
‘Eleven inches, phoenix-feather core, been in use four years. That correct?’
‘Yes,’ said Harry nervously.
‘I keep this,’ said the wizard, impaling the slip of parchment on a small brass spike. ‘You get this back,’ he added, thrusting the wand at Harry.
‘Thank you.’
‘Hang on....’ said the wizard slowly.
The door of the telephone box sprang open and Mr. Weasley stepped out of it, followed by Harry, whose mouth had fallen open.
They were standing at one end of a very long and splendid hall with a highly polished, dark wood floor. The peacock blue ceiling was inlaid with gleaming golden symbols that kept moving and changing like some enormous heavenly noticeboard. The wall's on each side were panelled in shiny dark wood and had many gilded fireplaces set into them. Every few seconds a witch or wizard would emerge from one of the left-hand fireplaces with a soft whoosh; on the right-hand side, short queues were forming before each fireplace, waiting to depart.
Halfway down the hall was a fountain. A group of golden statues, larger than life-size, stood in the middle of a circular pool. Tallest of them all was a noble-looking wizard with his wand pointing straight up in the air. Grouped around him were a beautiful witch, a centaur, a goblin and a house-elf. The last three were all looking adoringly up at the witch and wizard. Glittering jets of water were flying from the ends of the two wands, the point of the centaur's arrow, the tip of the goblin's hat, and each of the house-elf's ears, so that the tinkling hiss of falling water was added to the pops and cracks of the Apparators and the clatter of footsteps as hundreds of witches and wizards, most of whom were wearing glum, early-morning looks, strode towards a set of golden gates at the far end of the hall.
‘This way,’ said Mr. Weasley.
They joined the throng, wending their way between the Ministry workers, some of whom were carrying tottering piles of parchment, others battered briefcases, still others were reading the Daily Prophet while they walked. As they passed the fountain Harry saw silver Sickles and bronze Knuts glinting up at him from the bottom of the pool. A small smudged sign beside it read:
All proceeds from the fountain of magical brethren will be given to St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries
If I'm not expelled from Hogwarts, I'll put in ten Galleons, Harry found himself thinking desperately.
‘Over here, Harry,’ said Mr. Weasley, and they stepped out of the stream of Ministry employees heading for the golden gates. Seated at a desk to the left, beneath a sign saying SECURITY, a badly-shaven wizard in peacock-blue robes looked up as they approached and put down his Daily Prophet.
‘I'm escorting a visitor,’ said Mr. Weasley, gesturing towards Harry.
‘Step over here,’ said the wizard in a bored voice.
Harry walked closer to him and the wizard held up a long golden rod, thin and flexible as a car aerial, and passed it up and down Harry's front and back.
‘Wand,’ grunted the security wizard at Harry, putting down the golden instrument and holding out his hand.
Harry produced his wand. The wizard dropped it on to a strange brass instrument, which looked something like a set of scales with only one dish. It began to vibrate. A narrow strip of parchment came speeding out of a slit in the base. The wizard tore this off and read the writing on it.
‘Eleven inches, phoenix-feather core, been in use four years. That correct?’
‘Yes,’ said Harry nervously.
‘I keep this,’ said the wizard, impaling the slip of parchment on a small brass spike. ‘You get this back,’ he added, thrusting the wand at Harry.
‘Thank you.’
‘Hang on....’ said the wizard slowly.
‘Simply fabulous,’ he whispered, indicating the automatic ticket machines.
‘Simply fabulous,’ he whispered, indicating the automatic ticket machines. ‘Wonderfully ingenious.’
‘They're out of order,’ said Harry, pointing at the sign.
‘Yes, but even so...’ said Mr. Weasley, beaming at them fondly.
They bought their tickets instead from a sleepy-looking guard (Harry handled the transaction, as Mr. Weasley was not very good with Muggle money) and five minutes later they were boarding an underground train that rattled them off towards the centre of London. Mr. Weasley kept anxiously checking and re-checking the Underground Map above the windows.
‘Four stops, Harry ... three stops left now ... two stops to go, Harry...’
They got off at a station in the very heart of London, and were swept from the train in a tide of besuited men and women carrying briefcases. Up the escalator they went, through the ticket barrier (Mr. Weasley delighted with the way the stile swallowed his ticket), and emerged on to a broad street lined with imposing-looking buildings and already full of traffic.
‘Where are we?’ said Mr. Weasley blankly, and for one heart-stopping moment Harry thought they had got off at the wrong station despite Mr. Weasley's continual references to the map; but a second later he said, ‘Ah yes ... this way, Harry,’ and led him down a side road.
‘Sorry,’ he said, ‘but I never come by train and it all looks rather different from a Muggle perspective. As a matter of fact, I've never even used the visitors’ entrance before.’
The further they walked, the smaller and less imposing the buildings became, until finally they reached a street that contained several rather shabby-looking offices, a pub and an overflowing skip. Harry had expected a rather more impressive location for the Ministry of Magic.
‘Here we are,’ said Mr. Weasley brightly, pointing at an old red telephone box, which was missing several panes of glass and stood before a heavily graffitied wall. ‘After you, Harry.’
He opened the telephone-box door.
Harry stepped inside, wondering what on earth this was about. Mr. Weasley folded himself in beside Harry and closed the door. It was a tight fit; Harry was jammed against the telephone apparatus, which was hanging crookedly from the wall as though a vandal had tried to rip it off. Mr. Weasley reached past Harry for the receiver.
‘Mr. Weasley, I think this might be out of order, too,’ Harry said.
‘No, no, I'm sure its fine,’ said Mr. Weasley, holding the receiver above his head and peering at the dial. ‘Let's see ... six...’ he dialled the number, ‘two ... four ... and another four ... and another two...’
As the dial whirred smoothly back into place, a cool female voice sounded inside the telephone box, not from the receiver in Mr. Weasley's hand, but as loudly and plainly as though an invisible woman were standing right beside them.
‘Welcome to the Ministry of Magic. Please state your name and business.’
‘Er...’ said Mr. Weasley, clearly uncertain whether or not he should talk into the receiver. He compromised by holding the mouthpiece to his ear, ‘Arthur Weasley, Misuse of Muggle Artefacts Office, here to escort Harry Potter, who has been asked to attend a disciplinary hearing....’
‘Thank you,’ said the cool female voice. ‘Visitor, please take the badge and attach it to the front of your robes.’
There was a click and a rattle, and Harry saw something slide out of the metal chute where returned coins usually appeared. He picked it up: it was a square silver badge with Harry Potter, Disciplinary Hearing on it. He pinned it to the front of his T-shirt as the female voice spoke again.
‘Visitor to the Ministry, you are required to submit to a search and present your wand for registration at the security desk, which is located at the far end of the Atrium ’
The floor of the telephone box shuddered. They were sinking slowly into the ground. Harry watched apprehensively as the pavement seemed to rise up past the glass windows of the telephone box until darkness closed over their heads. Then he could see nothing at all; he could hear only a dull grinding noise as the telephone box made its way down through the earth. After about a minute, though it felt much longer to Harry, a chink of golden light illuminated his feet and, widening, rose up his body, until it hit him in the face and he had to blink to stop his eyes watering.
‘They're out of order,’ said Harry, pointing at the sign.
‘Yes, but even so...’ said Mr. Weasley, beaming at them fondly.
They bought their tickets instead from a sleepy-looking guard (Harry handled the transaction, as Mr. Weasley was not very good with Muggle money) and five minutes later they were boarding an underground train that rattled them off towards the centre of London. Mr. Weasley kept anxiously checking and re-checking the Underground Map above the windows.
‘Four stops, Harry ... three stops left now ... two stops to go, Harry...’
They got off at a station in the very heart of London, and were swept from the train in a tide of besuited men and women carrying briefcases. Up the escalator they went, through the ticket barrier (Mr. Weasley delighted with the way the stile swallowed his ticket), and emerged on to a broad street lined with imposing-looking buildings and already full of traffic.
‘Where are we?’ said Mr. Weasley blankly, and for one heart-stopping moment Harry thought they had got off at the wrong station despite Mr. Weasley's continual references to the map; but a second later he said, ‘Ah yes ... this way, Harry,’ and led him down a side road.
‘Sorry,’ he said, ‘but I never come by train and it all looks rather different from a Muggle perspective. As a matter of fact, I've never even used the visitors’ entrance before.’
The further they walked, the smaller and less imposing the buildings became, until finally they reached a street that contained several rather shabby-looking offices, a pub and an overflowing skip. Harry had expected a rather more impressive location for the Ministry of Magic.
‘Here we are,’ said Mr. Weasley brightly, pointing at an old red telephone box, which was missing several panes of glass and stood before a heavily graffitied wall. ‘After you, Harry.’
He opened the telephone-box door.
Harry stepped inside, wondering what on earth this was about. Mr. Weasley folded himself in beside Harry and closed the door. It was a tight fit; Harry was jammed against the telephone apparatus, which was hanging crookedly from the wall as though a vandal had tried to rip it off. Mr. Weasley reached past Harry for the receiver.
‘Mr. Weasley, I think this might be out of order, too,’ Harry said.
‘No, no, I'm sure its fine,’ said Mr. Weasley, holding the receiver above his head and peering at the dial. ‘Let's see ... six...’ he dialled the number, ‘two ... four ... and another four ... and another two...’
As the dial whirred smoothly back into place, a cool female voice sounded inside the telephone box, not from the receiver in Mr. Weasley's hand, but as loudly and plainly as though an invisible woman were standing right beside them.
‘Welcome to the Ministry of Magic. Please state your name and business.’
‘Er...’ said Mr. Weasley, clearly uncertain whether or not he should talk into the receiver. He compromised by holding the mouthpiece to his ear, ‘Arthur Weasley, Misuse of Muggle Artefacts Office, here to escort Harry Potter, who has been asked to attend a disciplinary hearing....’
‘Thank you,’ said the cool female voice. ‘Visitor, please take the badge and attach it to the front of your robes.’
There was a click and a rattle, and Harry saw something slide out of the metal chute where returned coins usually appeared. He picked it up: it was a square silver badge with Harry Potter, Disciplinary Hearing on it. He pinned it to the front of his T-shirt as the female voice spoke again.
‘Visitor to the Ministry, you are required to submit to a search and present your wand for registration at the security desk, which is located at the far end of the Atrium ’
The floor of the telephone box shuddered. They were sinking slowly into the ground. Harry watched apprehensively as the pavement seemed to rise up past the glass windows of the telephone box until darkness closed over their heads. Then he could see nothing at all; he could hear only a dull grinding noise as the telephone box made its way down through the earth. After about a minute, though it felt much longer to Harry, a chink of golden light illuminated his feet and, widening, rose up his body, until it hit him in the face and he had to blink to stop his eyes watering.
Harry shrugged.
Harry shrugged.
‘It'll all be over soon,’ Mr. Weasley said bracingly. ‘In a few hours’ time you'll be cleared.’
Harry said nothing.
‘The hearing's on my floor, in Amelia Bones's office. She's Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement and she's the one who'll be questioning you.’
‘Amelia Bones is OK, Harry,’ said Tonks earnestly. ‘She's fair, she'll hear you out.’
Harry nodded, still unable to think of anything to say.
‘Don't lose your temper,’ said Sirius abruptly. ‘Be polite and stick to the facts.’
Harry nodded again.
‘The law's on your side,’ said Lupin quietly. ‘Even underage wizards are allowed to use magic in life-threatening situations.’
Something very cold trickled down the back of Harry's neck; for a moment he thought someone was putting a Disillusionment Charm on him, then he realised that Mrs. Weasley was attacking his hair with a wet comb. She pressed hard on the top of his head.
‘Doesn't it ever lie flat?’ she said desperately.
Harry shook his head.
‘Mr. Weasley checked his watch and looked up at Harry. I think we'll go now,’ he said. ‘We're a bit early, but I think you'll be better off at the Ministry than hanging around here.’
‘OK,’ said Harry automatically, dropping his toast and getting to his feet.
‘You'll be all right, Harry,’ said Tonks, patting him on the arm.
‘Good luck,’ said Lupin. ‘I'm sure it will be fine.’
‘And if it's not,’ said Sirius grimly, ‘I'll see to Amelia Bones for you....’
Harry smiled weakly. Mrs. Weasley hugged him.
‘We've all got our fingers crossed,’ she said.
‘Right,’ said Harry. ‘Well ... see you later then.’
He followed Mr. Weasley upstairs and along the hall. He could hear Sirius's mother grunting in her sleep behind her curtains. Mr. Weasley unbolted the door and they stepped out into the cold, grey dawn.
‘You don't normally walk to work, do you?’ Harry asked him, as they set off briskly around the square.
‘No, I usually Apparate,’ said Mr. Weasley, ‘but obviously you can't, and I think it's best we arrive in a thoroughly non-magical fashion ... makes a better impression, given what you're being disciplined for....’
Mr. Weasley kept his hand inside his jacket as they walked. Harry knew it was clenched around his wand. The run-down streets were almost deserted, but when they arrived at the miserable little underground station they found it already lull of early-morning commuters. As ever when he found himself in close proximity to Muggles going about their daily business, Mr. Weasley was hard put to contain his enthusiasm.
‘It'll all be over soon,’ Mr. Weasley said bracingly. ‘In a few hours’ time you'll be cleared.’
Harry said nothing.
‘The hearing's on my floor, in Amelia Bones's office. She's Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement and she's the one who'll be questioning you.’
‘Amelia Bones is OK, Harry,’ said Tonks earnestly. ‘She's fair, she'll hear you out.’
Harry nodded, still unable to think of anything to say.
‘Don't lose your temper,’ said Sirius abruptly. ‘Be polite and stick to the facts.’
Harry nodded again.
‘The law's on your side,’ said Lupin quietly. ‘Even underage wizards are allowed to use magic in life-threatening situations.’
Something very cold trickled down the back of Harry's neck; for a moment he thought someone was putting a Disillusionment Charm on him, then he realised that Mrs. Weasley was attacking his hair with a wet comb. She pressed hard on the top of his head.
‘Doesn't it ever lie flat?’ she said desperately.
Harry shook his head.
‘Mr. Weasley checked his watch and looked up at Harry. I think we'll go now,’ he said. ‘We're a bit early, but I think you'll be better off at the Ministry than hanging around here.’
‘OK,’ said Harry automatically, dropping his toast and getting to his feet.
‘You'll be all right, Harry,’ said Tonks, patting him on the arm.
‘Good luck,’ said Lupin. ‘I'm sure it will be fine.’
‘And if it's not,’ said Sirius grimly, ‘I'll see to Amelia Bones for you....’
Harry smiled weakly. Mrs. Weasley hugged him.
‘We've all got our fingers crossed,’ she said.
‘Right,’ said Harry. ‘Well ... see you later then.’
He followed Mr. Weasley upstairs and along the hall. He could hear Sirius's mother grunting in her sleep behind her curtains. Mr. Weasley unbolted the door and they stepped out into the cold, grey dawn.
‘You don't normally walk to work, do you?’ Harry asked him, as they set off briskly around the square.
‘No, I usually Apparate,’ said Mr. Weasley, ‘but obviously you can't, and I think it's best we arrive in a thoroughly non-magical fashion ... makes a better impression, given what you're being disciplined for....’
Mr. Weasley kept his hand inside his jacket as they walked. Harry knew it was clenched around his wand. The run-down streets were almost deserted, but when they arrived at the miserable little underground station they found it already lull of early-morning commuters. As ever when he found himself in close proximity to Muggles going about their daily business, Mr. Weasley was hard put to contain his enthusiasm.
Sunday, November 14, 2010
The Hat became motionless once more
; applause broke out, though it was punctured, for the first time in Harry's memory, with muttering and whispers. All across the Great Hall students were exchanging remarks with their
neighbours, and Harry, clapping along with everyone else, knew exactly what they were talking about.
‘Branched out a bit this year, hasn't it?’ said Ron, his eyebrows raised.
‘Too right it has,’ said Harry.
The Sorting Hat usually confined itself to describing the different qualities looked for by each of the four Hogwarts houses and its own role in Sorting them. Harry could not remember it ever trying to give the school advice
before.
‘I wonder if it's ever given warnings before?’ said Hermione, sounding slightly anxious.
‘Yes, indeed,’ said Nearly Headless Nick knowledgeably, leaning across Neville towards her (Neville winced; it was very uncomfortable to have a ghost lean through you). ‘The Hat feels itself honour-bound to give the school
due warning whenever it feels—’
But Professor McGonagall, who was waiting to read out the list of first-years’ names, was giving the whispering students the sort of look that scorches. Nearly Headless Nick placed a see-through finger to his lips and sat primly
upright again as the muttering came to an abrupt end. With a last frowning look that swept the lour house tables, Professor McGonagall lowered her eyes to her long piece of parchment and called out the first name.
‘Abercrombie, Euan.’
The terrified-looking boy Harry had noticed earlier stumbled forwards and put the Hat on his head; it was only prevented from falling right down to his shoulders by his very prominent ears. The Hat considered for a moment,
then the rip near the brim opened again and shouted:
‘Gryffindor!’
Harry clapped loudly with the rest of Gryffindor house as Euan Abercrombie staggered to their table and sat down, looking as though he would like very much to sink through the floor and never be looked at again.
Slowly, the long line of first-years thinned. In the pauses between the names and the Sorting Hat's decisions, Harry could hear Ron's stomach rumbling loudly. Finally, ‘Zeller, Rose’ was Sorted into Hufflepuff, and Professor
McGonagall picked up the Hat and stool and marched them away as Professor Dumbledore rose to his feet.
Whatever his recent bitter feelings had been towards his Headmaster, Harry was somehow soothed to see Dumbledore standing before them all. Between the absence of Hagrid and the presence of those dragonish horses,
he had felt that his return to Hogwarts, so long anticipated, was full of unexpected surprises, like jarring notes in a familiar song. But this, at least, was how it was supposed to be: their Headmaster rising to greet them all
before the start-of-term feast.
‘To our newcomers,’ said Dumbledore in a ringing voice, his arms stretched wide and a beaming smile on his lips, ‘welcome! To our old hands—welcome back! There is a time for speech-making, but this is not it. Tuck in!’
There was an appreciative laugh and an outbreak of applause as Dumbledore sat down neatly and threw his long beard over his shoulder so as to keep it out of the way of his plate—for food had appeared out of nowhere, so
that the five long tables were groaning under joints and pies and dishes of vegetables, bread and sauces and flagons of pumpkin juice.
‘Excellent,’ said Ron, with a kind of groan of longing, and he seized the nearest plate of chops and began piling them on to his plate, watched wistfully by Nearly Headless Nick.
‘What were you saying before the Sorting?’ Hermione asked the ghost. ‘About the Hat giving warnings?’
‘Oh, yes,’ said Nick, who seemed glad of a reason to turn away from Ron, who was now eating roast potatoes with almost indecent enthusiasm. ‘Yes, I have heard the Hat give several warnings before, always at times when it
detects periods of great danger for the school. And always, of course, its advice is the same: stand together, be strong from within.’
‘Ow kunnit nofe skusin danger ifzat?’ said Ron.
His mouth was so full Harry thought it was quite an achievement for him to make any noise at all.
‘I beg your pardon?’ said Nearly Headless Nick politely, while Hermione looked revolted. Ron gave an enormous swallow and said, ‘How can it know if the school's in danger if it's a Hat?’
‘I have no idea,’ said Nearly Headless Nick. ‘Of course, it lives in Dumbledore's office, so I daresay it picks things up there.’
‘And it wants all the houses to be friends?’ said Harry, looking over at the Slytherin table, where Draco Malfoy was holding court. ‘Fat chance.’
‘Well, now, you shouldn't take that attitude,’ said Nick reprovingly. ‘Peaceful co-operation, that's the key. We ghosts, though we belong to separate houses, maintain links of friendship. In spite of the competitiveness between
Gryffindor and Slytherin, I would never dream of seeking an argument with the Bloody Baron.’
‘Only because you're terrified of him,’ said Ron.
Nearly Headless Nick looked highly affronted.
‘Terrified? I hope I, Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington, have never been guilty of cowardice in my life! The noble blood that runs in my veins—’
‘What blood?’ asked Ron. ‘Surely you haven't still got—?’
‘It's a figure of speech!’ said Nearly Headless Nick, now so annoyed his head was trembling ominously on his partially severed neck. ‘I assume I am still allowed to enjoy the use of whichever words I like, even if the pleasures
of eating and drinking are denied me! But I am quite used to students poking fun at my death, I assure you!’
‘Nick, he wasn't really laughing at you!’ said Hermione, throwing a furious look at Ron.
Unfortunately, Ron's mouth was packed to exploding point again and all he could manage was ‘Node iddum eentup sechew,’ which Nick did not seem to think constituted an adequate apology. Rising into the air, he
straightened his feathered hat and swept away from them to the other end of the table, coming to rest between the Creevey brothers, Colin and Dennis.
‘Well done, Ron,’ snapped Hermione.
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neighbours, and Harry, clapping along with everyone else, knew exactly what they were talking about.
‘Branched out a bit this year, hasn't it?’ said Ron, his eyebrows raised.
‘Too right it has,’ said Harry.
The Sorting Hat usually confined itself to describing the different qualities looked for by each of the four Hogwarts houses and its own role in Sorting them. Harry could not remember it ever trying to give the school advice
before.
‘I wonder if it's ever given warnings before?’ said Hermione, sounding slightly anxious.
‘Yes, indeed,’ said Nearly Headless Nick knowledgeably, leaning across Neville towards her (Neville winced; it was very uncomfortable to have a ghost lean through you). ‘The Hat feels itself honour-bound to give the school
due warning whenever it feels—’
But Professor McGonagall, who was waiting to read out the list of first-years’ names, was giving the whispering students the sort of look that scorches. Nearly Headless Nick placed a see-through finger to his lips and sat primly
upright again as the muttering came to an abrupt end. With a last frowning look that swept the lour house tables, Professor McGonagall lowered her eyes to her long piece of parchment and called out the first name.
‘Abercrombie, Euan.’
The terrified-looking boy Harry had noticed earlier stumbled forwards and put the Hat on his head; it was only prevented from falling right down to his shoulders by his very prominent ears. The Hat considered for a moment,
then the rip near the brim opened again and shouted:
‘Gryffindor!’
Harry clapped loudly with the rest of Gryffindor house as Euan Abercrombie staggered to their table and sat down, looking as though he would like very much to sink through the floor and never be looked at again.
Slowly, the long line of first-years thinned. In the pauses between the names and the Sorting Hat's decisions, Harry could hear Ron's stomach rumbling loudly. Finally, ‘Zeller, Rose’ was Sorted into Hufflepuff, and Professor
McGonagall picked up the Hat and stool and marched them away as Professor Dumbledore rose to his feet.
Whatever his recent bitter feelings had been towards his Headmaster, Harry was somehow soothed to see Dumbledore standing before them all. Between the absence of Hagrid and the presence of those dragonish horses,
he had felt that his return to Hogwarts, so long anticipated, was full of unexpected surprises, like jarring notes in a familiar song. But this, at least, was how it was supposed to be: their Headmaster rising to greet them all
before the start-of-term feast.
‘To our newcomers,’ said Dumbledore in a ringing voice, his arms stretched wide and a beaming smile on his lips, ‘welcome! To our old hands—welcome back! There is a time for speech-making, but this is not it. Tuck in!’
There was an appreciative laugh and an outbreak of applause as Dumbledore sat down neatly and threw his long beard over his shoulder so as to keep it out of the way of his plate—for food had appeared out of nowhere, so
that the five long tables were groaning under joints and pies and dishes of vegetables, bread and sauces and flagons of pumpkin juice.
‘Excellent,’ said Ron, with a kind of groan of longing, and he seized the nearest plate of chops and began piling them on to his plate, watched wistfully by Nearly Headless Nick.
‘What were you saying before the Sorting?’ Hermione asked the ghost. ‘About the Hat giving warnings?’
‘Oh, yes,’ said Nick, who seemed glad of a reason to turn away from Ron, who was now eating roast potatoes with almost indecent enthusiasm. ‘Yes, I have heard the Hat give several warnings before, always at times when it
detects periods of great danger for the school. And always, of course, its advice is the same: stand together, be strong from within.’
‘Ow kunnit nofe skusin danger ifzat?’ said Ron.
His mouth was so full Harry thought it was quite an achievement for him to make any noise at all.
‘I beg your pardon?’ said Nearly Headless Nick politely, while Hermione looked revolted. Ron gave an enormous swallow and said, ‘How can it know if the school's in danger if it's a Hat?’
‘I have no idea,’ said Nearly Headless Nick. ‘Of course, it lives in Dumbledore's office, so I daresay it picks things up there.’
‘And it wants all the houses to be friends?’ said Harry, looking over at the Slytherin table, where Draco Malfoy was holding court. ‘Fat chance.’
‘Well, now, you shouldn't take that attitude,’ said Nick reprovingly. ‘Peaceful co-operation, that's the key. We ghosts, though we belong to separate houses, maintain links of friendship. In spite of the competitiveness between
Gryffindor and Slytherin, I would never dream of seeking an argument with the Bloody Baron.’
‘Only because you're terrified of him,’ said Ron.
Nearly Headless Nick looked highly affronted.
‘Terrified? I hope I, Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington, have never been guilty of cowardice in my life! The noble blood that runs in my veins—’
‘What blood?’ asked Ron. ‘Surely you haven't still got—?’
‘It's a figure of speech!’ said Nearly Headless Nick, now so annoyed his head was trembling ominously on his partially severed neck. ‘I assume I am still allowed to enjoy the use of whichever words I like, even if the pleasures
of eating and drinking are denied me! But I am quite used to students poking fun at my death, I assure you!’
‘Nick, he wasn't really laughing at you!’ said Hermione, throwing a furious look at Ron.
Unfortunately, Ron's mouth was packed to exploding point again and all he could manage was ‘Node iddum eentup sechew,’ which Nick did not seem to think constituted an adequate apology. Rising into the air, he
straightened his feathered hat and swept away from them to the other end of the table, coming to rest between the Creevey brothers, Colin and Dennis.
‘Well done, Ron,’ snapped Hermione.
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Wednesday, November 10, 2010
History: India and Pakistan after 60 Years of Independence
Author：佚名 Source：none Hits：123 UpdateTime：2008-10-19 1:36:05
India and Pakistan both celebrated their 60th year of independence from the British Raj in August 2008. The progress of these two nations over this period of history has been very different.
Though the relinquishing of the Indian jewel in the empire`s crown was part of the ongoing British realpolitik in granting independence when subject countries clamored for it, the route for the peoples of India was to be painful and bloody. The main problem lay in tensions and conflicts between the two very different main religions of the subcontinent-the majority Hindus and the Muslims. The applied solution was to divide India into two nations but three pieces-a divided Pakistan on the eastern and western flanks of India.
A HISTORY OF CONFLICT
Mutual suspicion and loathing often flared into violence in the months leading up to independence: it is estimated that more than one million people were killed in sectarian riots; while millions more were displaced and untold numbers suffered rape and other atrocities. Once the borders had been settled, over seven million people migrated in each direction-Indian Muslims to Pakistan and Pakistani Hindus to India. More violence and death occurred as these groups passed one another-estimates of those killed range from 200,000 to one million.
The conflicts continued after the two states were established and, in the first quarter century of independence, three wars were fought between the two nations. In one of them, India supported East Pakistan in its secession to become Bangladesh in 1971. In addition to wars, there have been numerous stand-offs between the two nations, often about disputed borders. More hopefully, on the 60th anniversary, August 14, around half-a-million people from both countries marched for peace on the Punjab border (though India celebrates independence a day later than Pakistan, on the 15th day of the month).
Yet the differences between India and Pakistan are growing. India is the majority nation with a predominantly Hindu population of more than 1.1 billion, while Pakistan`s population is 160 million.
INDIA OUTSTRIPPING HER NEIGHBORS
Pakistan's present preoccupation is ideological rather than economic, as her military government, headed by General Pervez Musharraf, battles extremism. Pakistan's president is fighting for the hearts of his people, urging resistance and opposition to Taliban and al-Qaeda presence along the northwestern border with Afghanistan.
Financially and technologically, India is outstripping its neighbors to become one of the emerging economic giants of the 21st century. Politically, India has had fair elections for decades while Pakistan is under military rule. However, India is still a land of great contrasts, with over 800 million of her population still chronically poor and a third of her people illiterate (compared to China`s 5 percent). Poverty in Pakistan is even more endemic than in India, with Pakistan ranked as one of the 10 most backward countries in the world, and getting poorer. Industry and agriculture are inefficient and more than 60 percent of the nation`s revenues went toward debt repayment in 2000 (United Nations Development Programme, 2003 report).
Thus, the two nations are likely to become even further apart in terms of development and economic opportunity. While India`s society and culture is still a long way from experiencing the economic transformation that the comparative few are enjoying, in Pakistan there is no hope in sight of even aspiring to such transformation.
India and Pakistan both celebrated their 60th year of independence from the British Raj in August 2008. The progress of these two nations over this period of history has been very different.
Though the relinquishing of the Indian jewel in the empire`s crown was part of the ongoing British realpolitik in granting independence when subject countries clamored for it, the route for the peoples of India was to be painful and bloody. The main problem lay in tensions and conflicts between the two very different main religions of the subcontinent-the majority Hindus and the Muslims. The applied solution was to divide India into two nations but three pieces-a divided Pakistan on the eastern and western flanks of India.
A HISTORY OF CONFLICT
Mutual suspicion and loathing often flared into violence in the months leading up to independence: it is estimated that more than one million people were killed in sectarian riots; while millions more were displaced and untold numbers suffered rape and other atrocities. Once the borders had been settled, over seven million people migrated in each direction-Indian Muslims to Pakistan and Pakistani Hindus to India. More violence and death occurred as these groups passed one another-estimates of those killed range from 200,000 to one million.
The conflicts continued after the two states were established and, in the first quarter century of independence, three wars were fought between the two nations. In one of them, India supported East Pakistan in its secession to become Bangladesh in 1971. In addition to wars, there have been numerous stand-offs between the two nations, often about disputed borders. More hopefully, on the 60th anniversary, August 14, around half-a-million people from both countries marched for peace on the Punjab border (though India celebrates independence a day later than Pakistan, on the 15th day of the month).
Yet the differences between India and Pakistan are growing. India is the majority nation with a predominantly Hindu population of more than 1.1 billion, while Pakistan`s population is 160 million.
INDIA OUTSTRIPPING HER NEIGHBORS
Pakistan's present preoccupation is ideological rather than economic, as her military government, headed by General Pervez Musharraf, battles extremism. Pakistan's president is fighting for the hearts of his people, urging resistance and opposition to Taliban and al-Qaeda presence along the northwestern border with Afghanistan.
Financially and technologically, India is outstripping its neighbors to become one of the emerging economic giants of the 21st century. Politically, India has had fair elections for decades while Pakistan is under military rule. However, India is still a land of great contrasts, with over 800 million of her population still chronically poor and a third of her people illiterate (compared to China`s 5 percent). Poverty in Pakistan is even more endemic than in India, with Pakistan ranked as one of the 10 most backward countries in the world, and getting poorer. Industry and agriculture are inefficient and more than 60 percent of the nation`s revenues went toward debt repayment in 2000 (United Nations Development Programme, 2003 report).
Thus, the two nations are likely to become even further apart in terms of development and economic opportunity. While India`s society and culture is still a long way from experiencing the economic transformation that the comparative few are enjoying, in Pakistan there is no hope in sight of even aspiring to such transformation.
Tuesday, November 9, 2010
Why You Should Use A Compost Bin?
Author：佚名 Source：none Hits：113 UpdateTime：2008-10-19 1:08:23
Whether you are a gardener or not, you could really benefit from using a compost bin. What are compost bins and why are they so great? Well, compost bins allow things like leaves, kitchen scraps and grass cuttings to break
down quickly.
Using compost bins to create a healthy garden:
Compost bins are great for making your own natural, nutrient-filled fertilizer. You could be the envy of every gardener around, if you use compost bins to your advantage. You'll find that your vegetables and flowers look much
healthier that way.
Compost bins versus compost piles:
Of course, some people just throw compost in a pile in the yard. There are a lot of problems with that though. First of all, compost piles just don't look as good as compost bins.
Also, compost bins tend to hold the compost together better, so it heats faster and breaks down quicker. That means, using compost bins, you can make better compost in less time. That means you can have a healthier
garden faster and maintain it better by using compost bins, rather than compost piles.
Another problem with compost piles is that they tend to attract animals and unwanted insects, such as bees, depending no what you put in the. Keeping your compost contained in compost bins will limit any trouble with pests.
Save money with compost bins:
There are a couple of ways that compost bins can save you money. First, obviously, if you use natural compost, you won't have to buy expensive fertilizer. You'd be surprised at how quickly compost bins can pay for
themselves that way.
Second, man people have to pay by the bag to have their trash collected. If you throw all of your kitchen scraps in your compost bin, you'll cut back on costs that way, too.
Compost bins and the environment:
From an environmental standpoint, compost bins are great. Commercial fertilizers often contain chemicals. Organic fertilizer from compost bins is safer. Besides, if you aren't buying it commercially, you also won't be throwing
away extra packaging materials. So, over time, you will be doing your part to save the environment, by using compost bins.
Choosing compost bins:
Of course, once you've decided to get one, the next question is which of the compost bins would be best for you. To figure that out, first think about how much compost you are probably throwing in the trash. Imagine all of
that going in compost bins, instead. That will give you an idea of the size you need.
Of course, there are lots of compost bins that you could buy. They come in all sorts of sizes and shapes. So, you can find compost bins that will look good in your yard and still serve their purpose too.
As you can see, compost bins are safe, efficient and can save you a lot of time and money. They can also give you the sort of garden that you've always dreamed of. So, stop using a compost pile or, worse yet, throwing away
things you could compost and get yourself one of the many types of compost bins out there!
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burberry outlet
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Whether you are a gardener or not, you could really benefit from using a compost bin. What are compost bins and why are they so great? Well, compost bins allow things like leaves, kitchen scraps and grass cuttings to break
down quickly.
Using compost bins to create a healthy garden:
Compost bins are great for making your own natural, nutrient-filled fertilizer. You could be the envy of every gardener around, if you use compost bins to your advantage. You'll find that your vegetables and flowers look much
healthier that way.
Compost bins versus compost piles:
Of course, some people just throw compost in a pile in the yard. There are a lot of problems with that though. First of all, compost piles just don't look as good as compost bins.
Also, compost bins tend to hold the compost together better, so it heats faster and breaks down quicker. That means, using compost bins, you can make better compost in less time. That means you can have a healthier
garden faster and maintain it better by using compost bins, rather than compost piles.
Another problem with compost piles is that they tend to attract animals and unwanted insects, such as bees, depending no what you put in the. Keeping your compost contained in compost bins will limit any trouble with pests.
Save money with compost bins:
There are a couple of ways that compost bins can save you money. First, obviously, if you use natural compost, you won't have to buy expensive fertilizer. You'd be surprised at how quickly compost bins can pay for
themselves that way.
Second, man people have to pay by the bag to have their trash collected. If you throw all of your kitchen scraps in your compost bin, you'll cut back on costs that way, too.
Compost bins and the environment:
From an environmental standpoint, compost bins are great. Commercial fertilizers often contain chemicals. Organic fertilizer from compost bins is safer. Besides, if you aren't buying it commercially, you also won't be throwing
away extra packaging materials. So, over time, you will be doing your part to save the environment, by using compost bins.
Choosing compost bins:
Of course, once you've decided to get one, the next question is which of the compost bins would be best for you. To figure that out, first think about how much compost you are probably throwing in the trash. Imagine all of
that going in compost bins, instead. That will give you an idea of the size you need.
Of course, there are lots of compost bins that you could buy. They come in all sorts of sizes and shapes. So, you can find compost bins that will look good in your yard and still serve their purpose too.
As you can see, compost bins are safe, efficient and can save you a lot of time and money. They can also give you the sort of garden that you've always dreamed of. So, stop using a compost pile or, worse yet, throwing away
things you could compost and get yourself one of the many types of compost bins out there!
uggs
chanel 2.55
burberry outlet
coach outlet
Monday, November 8, 2010
Weslo Cadence 78s Treadmill Exclusive Review
Author：佚名 Source：none Hits：44 UpdateTime：2008-10-19 0:41:22
The Weslo Cadence 78s Treadmill is a lower affordable option for people wanting a quality treadmill. The Weslo company has been making treadmills for years and have become a well known brand that consumers have come to trust. The Cadence 78s is one just model they offer.
The Cadence 78s model goes from 0 to 10 miles per hour in .01 mph increments. Just push the up or down arrows for the speed on the console to adjust the speed. Your speed will be displayed on the LCD monitor.
The incline on Cadence 78s model is also adjustable. You can adjust this model from 1.5 to a 10 percent incline. Beginners as well as the more athletic will all be able to set this treadmill to their personnel level.
This model features a large LCD display that shows you current information. You can scroll through the options to see how many calories you have burned, how far you have traveled, your speed, and the amount of time you have spent working out. When you see the amount of calories you have burned increasing, it will make you want to work that much harder.
This Cadence 78s model has a 2 horsepower motor. It's assembled size is 61" x 29" x 52". The Cadence 78s can hold a maximum of 250 pounds, which is better than some of the other models in this price range. This model also has the "Easy Pulse" heart rate monitor. A water bottle holder is built into this model, however you will have to purchase a bottle separately.
The factory warranty is comparable to the more expensive brands. The Weslo company offers a 1 year motor warranty and 90 days on parts and labor. This is included in the price, which makes this treadmill a very good deal.
The Cadence 78s is a space saver model. Those of you who don't have the space for a large piece of exercise equipment will appreciate that this model folds up for easy storage. Of course you can leave it out permanently if you wish.
The Weslo Cadence 78s treadmill offers many basic features at an affordable price. Those of you who want a good treadmill but can't afford to spend a lot should consider this model. With the Weslo warranty you know you are still getting a company that stands behind their product.
The Weslo Cadence 78s Treadmill is a lower affordable option for people wanting a quality treadmill. The Weslo company has been making treadmills for years and have become a well known brand that consumers have come to trust. The Cadence 78s is one just model they offer.
The Cadence 78s model goes from 0 to 10 miles per hour in .01 mph increments. Just push the up or down arrows for the speed on the console to adjust the speed. Your speed will be displayed on the LCD monitor.
The incline on Cadence 78s model is also adjustable. You can adjust this model from 1.5 to a 10 percent incline. Beginners as well as the more athletic will all be able to set this treadmill to their personnel level.
This model features a large LCD display that shows you current information. You can scroll through the options to see how many calories you have burned, how far you have traveled, your speed, and the amount of time you have spent working out. When you see the amount of calories you have burned increasing, it will make you want to work that much harder.
This Cadence 78s model has a 2 horsepower motor. It's assembled size is 61" x 29" x 52". The Cadence 78s can hold a maximum of 250 pounds, which is better than some of the other models in this price range. This model also has the "Easy Pulse" heart rate monitor. A water bottle holder is built into this model, however you will have to purchase a bottle separately.
The factory warranty is comparable to the more expensive brands. The Weslo company offers a 1 year motor warranty and 90 days on parts and labor. This is included in the price, which makes this treadmill a very good deal.
The Cadence 78s is a space saver model. Those of you who don't have the space for a large piece of exercise equipment will appreciate that this model folds up for easy storage. Of course you can leave it out permanently if you wish.
The Weslo Cadence 78s treadmill offers many basic features at an affordable price. Those of you who want a good treadmill but can't afford to spend a lot should consider this model. With the Weslo warranty you know you are still getting a company that stands behind their product.
Bikram yoga Improvement in mental and physical health.
Author：Yoga Bestbuy Source：none Hits：67 UpdateTime：2008-7-12 18:39:44
Bikram Choudhury is an Indian yoga guru and the founder of Bikram Yoga, also known as Hot Yoga, a copyrighted series of 26 hatha yoga postures that are performed in a hot environment.
Bikram yoga, usually known as "hot yoga," builds physical and mental strength, balance and flexibility. Bikram Yoga is ideally practiced in a room heated to 40.5C with a humidity of 40%. Bikram Yoga works the entire body from the inside out, from the micro to macro level, using every system of the body. It stretches and strengthens every single muscle, ligament and joint in the body. It constitutes of a demanding series of 26 posture and two breathing exercises, which is designed to work the whole body from the inside out.
Bikram Yoga is a safe, exhilarating workout that will calm your mind, strengthen your body. This method stimulates the organs, glands and nerves moving fresh oxygenated blood to 100% of the body, restoring all systems to optimum health.
Scientifically designed the 90 minute program to deliver total health through the balancing and strengthening of every system in the body in order to prevent illness and injury, promote weight loss, and limit the effects of aging. The benefits are endless to Bikram Yoga. Overall mental, physical and emotional health is improved. While doing the Bikram Yoga , the muscles are contracted and this process helps re-organizing lipids and proteins, optimizing the circulation. Besides, blood is directed to bones, giving them strength. Fresh blood, oxygen and nutrients are brought into the body circulation, contributing to the stimulation of nerves and brain.
When doing the hot yoga, you should have some accessories like your yoga mat and towel. Since you will be sweating severely, you should have something to wipe up your sweat every other time. Bikrams method is such a good yoga style. People who want to be slim can practice this type of yoga because their fats and cholesterol will be burned through sweat.
This more efficient delivery of oxygen to the entire body restores our organs, fibers, and systems to a healthy working order. The sequence is designed so that every posture warms up the muscles and joints needed for the next posture, in addition to working the organs, glands, and nervous system in a systematic and profound way.
The Bikram Yoga constitutes of twenty six Asana that make up:
1 Pranayama Series Standing Deep Breathing
2 Ardha Chandrasana with Pada-Hastasana Half Moon Pose with Hands to Feet Pose
3 Utkatasana Awkward Pose
4 Garurasana Eagle Pose
5 Dandayamana - JanuShirasana Standing Head To Knee Pose
6 Dandayamana - Dhanurasana Standing Bow Pulling Pose
7 Tuladandasana Balancing Stick Pose
8 Dandayamana - Bibhaktapada - Paschimottanasana Standing Separate Leg Stretching Pose
9 Trikonasana Triangle Pose
10 Dandayamana - Bibhaktapada - Janushirasana Standing Separate Leg Head to Knee Pose
11 Tadasana Tree Pose
12 Padangustasana Toe Stand Pose
13 Savasana Dead Body Pose
14 Pavanamuktasana Wind Removing Pose
15 Sit Up Sit Up
16 Bhujangasana Cobra Pose
17 Salabhasana Locust Pose
18 Poorna - Salabhasana Full Locust Pose
19 Dhanurasana Bow Pose
20 Supta - Vajrasana Fixed Firm Pose
21 Ardha - Kurmasana Half Tortoise Pose
22 Ustrasana Camel Pose
23 Sasangasana Rabbit Pose
24 Janushirasana with Paschimottanasana Head to Knee Pose with Stretching Pose
25 Ardha - Matsyendrasana Spine Twisting Pose
26 Khapalbhati Blowing In Firm
However, Bikram Yoga may not be suitable for everybody since it does require being physically fit; otherwise, it is not recommended if you are out of shape in which instance you should begin with other types of yoga to attain the proper levels of fitness after which you may take a stab at doing Bikram Yoga. Also, before beginning this type of yoga, you should have found out all there is to know about Bikram Yoga which will help you determine whether this form of yoga is suitable for you or not.
Bikram Choudhury is an Indian yoga guru and the founder of Bikram Yoga, also known as Hot Yoga, a copyrighted series of 26 hatha yoga postures that are performed in a hot environment.
Bikram yoga, usually known as "hot yoga," builds physical and mental strength, balance and flexibility. Bikram Yoga is ideally practiced in a room heated to 40.5C with a humidity of 40%. Bikram Yoga works the entire body from the inside out, from the micro to macro level, using every system of the body. It stretches and strengthens every single muscle, ligament and joint in the body. It constitutes of a demanding series of 26 posture and two breathing exercises, which is designed to work the whole body from the inside out.
Bikram Yoga is a safe, exhilarating workout that will calm your mind, strengthen your body. This method stimulates the organs, glands and nerves moving fresh oxygenated blood to 100% of the body, restoring all systems to optimum health.
Scientifically designed the 90 minute program to deliver total health through the balancing and strengthening of every system in the body in order to prevent illness and injury, promote weight loss, and limit the effects of aging. The benefits are endless to Bikram Yoga. Overall mental, physical and emotional health is improved. While doing the Bikram Yoga , the muscles are contracted and this process helps re-organizing lipids and proteins, optimizing the circulation. Besides, blood is directed to bones, giving them strength. Fresh blood, oxygen and nutrients are brought into the body circulation, contributing to the stimulation of nerves and brain.
When doing the hot yoga, you should have some accessories like your yoga mat and towel. Since you will be sweating severely, you should have something to wipe up your sweat every other time. Bikrams method is such a good yoga style. People who want to be slim can practice this type of yoga because their fats and cholesterol will be burned through sweat.
This more efficient delivery of oxygen to the entire body restores our organs, fibers, and systems to a healthy working order. The sequence is designed so that every posture warms up the muscles and joints needed for the next posture, in addition to working the organs, glands, and nervous system in a systematic and profound way.
The Bikram Yoga constitutes of twenty six Asana that make up:
1 Pranayama Series Standing Deep Breathing
2 Ardha Chandrasana with Pada-Hastasana Half Moon Pose with Hands to Feet Pose
3 Utkatasana Awkward Pose
4 Garurasana Eagle Pose
5 Dandayamana - JanuShirasana Standing Head To Knee Pose
6 Dandayamana - Dhanurasana Standing Bow Pulling Pose
7 Tuladandasana Balancing Stick Pose
8 Dandayamana - Bibhaktapada - Paschimottanasana Standing Separate Leg Stretching Pose
9 Trikonasana Triangle Pose
10 Dandayamana - Bibhaktapada - Janushirasana Standing Separate Leg Head to Knee Pose
11 Tadasana Tree Pose
12 Padangustasana Toe Stand Pose
13 Savasana Dead Body Pose
14 Pavanamuktasana Wind Removing Pose
15 Sit Up Sit Up
16 Bhujangasana Cobra Pose
17 Salabhasana Locust Pose
18 Poorna - Salabhasana Full Locust Pose
19 Dhanurasana Bow Pose
20 Supta - Vajrasana Fixed Firm Pose
21 Ardha - Kurmasana Half Tortoise Pose
22 Ustrasana Camel Pose
23 Sasangasana Rabbit Pose
24 Janushirasana with Paschimottanasana Head to Knee Pose with Stretching Pose
25 Ardha - Matsyendrasana Spine Twisting Pose
26 Khapalbhati Blowing In Firm
However, Bikram Yoga may not be suitable for everybody since it does require being physically fit; otherwise, it is not recommended if you are out of shape in which instance you should begin with other types of yoga to attain the proper levels of fitness after which you may take a stab at doing Bikram Yoga. Also, before beginning this type of yoga, you should have found out all there is to know about Bikram Yoga which will help you determine whether this form of yoga is suitable for you or not.
Workout Balls Get Results
Author：Brooks Donner Source：none Hits：79 UpdateTime：2008-7-12 18:39:49
Workout balls, also known as exercise balls, have been around for a number of years. They used to be only used by exercise gurus and fitness experts, but today you can find these workout balls in practically every professional gym and in many home gyms.
The exciting thing about using a ball is that there are so many different exercises from which to choose. In addition to becoming stronger and better toned, the workout ball is also great for weight loss in the exercises done help burn calories. The following are some of the best options for using ball exercises. Just like almost everything else in life, you will achieve your workout goals by using the exercise ball with discipline and consistency. You can find a long list of great exercises specific to the ball online!
Crunches and Twists
For toning the stomach muscles, these are the best exercises. In addition, crunches and twists will help with better posture while doing the various bends. Because there is quite a bit of muscle movement while taking advantage of this, you will see faster results as far as building up a rock-hard stomach and a four-pack or six-pack.
Start by laying on the exercise ball with your feet about twelve inches away from the ball in order to maintain your balance. At this point, you should lean back and place the middle of your back directly on the exercise ball. Put your fingers on your forehead and perform crunches slowly and twist when you reach the seated position. Return to the original position and start over, doing two sets, each of eight repetitions.
Sit Around
Another great option for ball exercises specifically for beginners is called the Sit Around. This simply sitting on the ball while moving around in small increments. The goal here is to slowly start using new muscles and stretching but to also help you learn the balance required for more difficult exercises.
Pushups
With ball exercises, you can also do pushups. In order to gain balance, simply place your hands in the center of a small ball. From there, simply do regular pushups. These may seem hard at first, and will definitely take some time to master, but you will see much greater results versus conventional pushups on the floor.
Bicep Curls
Finally, even sitting on the workout ball and doing bicep curls is a great way to benefit the back and abs too. While doing curls, you have to maintain proper balance, which works many areas of the body.
Workout balls, also known as exercise balls, have been around for a number of years. They used to be only used by exercise gurus and fitness experts, but today you can find these workout balls in practically every professional gym and in many home gyms.
The exciting thing about using a ball is that there are so many different exercises from which to choose. In addition to becoming stronger and better toned, the workout ball is also great for weight loss in the exercises done help burn calories. The following are some of the best options for using ball exercises. Just like almost everything else in life, you will achieve your workout goals by using the exercise ball with discipline and consistency. You can find a long list of great exercises specific to the ball online!
Crunches and Twists
For toning the stomach muscles, these are the best exercises. In addition, crunches and twists will help with better posture while doing the various bends. Because there is quite a bit of muscle movement while taking advantage of this, you will see faster results as far as building up a rock-hard stomach and a four-pack or six-pack.
Start by laying on the exercise ball with your feet about twelve inches away from the ball in order to maintain your balance. At this point, you should lean back and place the middle of your back directly on the exercise ball. Put your fingers on your forehead and perform crunches slowly and twist when you reach the seated position. Return to the original position and start over, doing two sets, each of eight repetitions.
Sit Around
Another great option for ball exercises specifically for beginners is called the Sit Around. This simply sitting on the ball while moving around in small increments. The goal here is to slowly start using new muscles and stretching but to also help you learn the balance required for more difficult exercises.
Pushups
With ball exercises, you can also do pushups. In order to gain balance, simply place your hands in the center of a small ball. From there, simply do regular pushups. These may seem hard at first, and will definitely take some time to master, but you will see much greater results versus conventional pushups on the floor.
Bicep Curls
Finally, even sitting on the workout ball and doing bicep curls is a great way to benefit the back and abs too. While doing curls, you have to maintain proper balance, which works many areas of the body.
End Tiredness Program - Review
Author：佚名 Source：none Hits：40 UpdateTime：2008-10-19 0:40:06
End Tiredness Program - Review
If you are among those people, who constantly look for tiredness treatment options, then you really need to know more about End Tiredness Program. End Tiredness Program is an e-book, which has numerous methods that help you in decreasing your fatigue level, and at the same time increasing your body energy. Tina Hagen and Peter Novak had formulated this e-book to eliminate all the fatigue related issues. Both the authors believe that this product has the ability to get rid of fatigue permanently.
End Tiredness Program is an education program. It teaches various methods to eliminate fatigue by providing sufficient energy to the body. This is a very effective program to end fatigue as all the methods described in this e-book are natural and anyone can follow these methods without worrying for any kinds of side effects.
One of the advantages of this e-book is that it is written in a very simple and easy language. This makes it easy to understand all the methods described in the e-book. Another good think about End Tiredness Program is that there are no methods described in this e-book that may ask you to use of any kind of stimulants, pills, sleeping drugs or any other medications. This product actually makes you understand about the general and unknown causes of tiredness, and at the same time provides an appropriate method to overcome the cause of tiredness. This is a very popular product around the world, as many people have actually benefited using this e-book.
Along with this e-book, you also receive great bonuses, which are of great help to relieve you from tiredness. The best part about the methods of End Tiredness Program is that it has a direct effect on the core of the problem, which causes tiredness in you. All the methods of this e-book are easy to perform and do not require much of your time. Thus, there is no need to invest huge amounts of time in order to get the desired results.
The most important feature of End Tiredness Program is that all the discussed methods to eliminate fatigue in this e-book are realistic. The success rate of this program is nearly 96%. You will start experiencing the positive effects of these methods within a months time if not faster. Lastly, the authors of this e-book have presented well-researched and natural methods to live a stress-free life.
End Tiredness Program - Review
If you are among those people, who constantly look for tiredness treatment options, then you really need to know more about End Tiredness Program. End Tiredness Program is an e-book, which has numerous methods that help you in decreasing your fatigue level, and at the same time increasing your body energy. Tina Hagen and Peter Novak had formulated this e-book to eliminate all the fatigue related issues. Both the authors believe that this product has the ability to get rid of fatigue permanently.
End Tiredness Program is an education program. It teaches various methods to eliminate fatigue by providing sufficient energy to the body. This is a very effective program to end fatigue as all the methods described in this e-book are natural and anyone can follow these methods without worrying for any kinds of side effects.
One of the advantages of this e-book is that it is written in a very simple and easy language. This makes it easy to understand all the methods described in the e-book. Another good think about End Tiredness Program is that there are no methods described in this e-book that may ask you to use of any kind of stimulants, pills, sleeping drugs or any other medications. This product actually makes you understand about the general and unknown causes of tiredness, and at the same time provides an appropriate method to overcome the cause of tiredness. This is a very popular product around the world, as many people have actually benefited using this e-book.
Along with this e-book, you also receive great bonuses, which are of great help to relieve you from tiredness. The best part about the methods of End Tiredness Program is that it has a direct effect on the core of the problem, which causes tiredness in you. All the methods of this e-book are easy to perform and do not require much of your time. Thus, there is no need to invest huge amounts of time in order to get the desired results.
The most important feature of End Tiredness Program is that all the discussed methods to eliminate fatigue in this e-book are realistic. The success rate of this program is nearly 96%. You will start experiencing the positive effects of these methods within a months time if not faster. Lastly, the authors of this e-book have presented well-researched and natural methods to live a stress-free life.
Thursday, November 4, 2010
Debt Consolidation Mortgage And Consolidation Loan
Author：佚名 Source：none Hits：131 UpdateTime：2008-10-18 23:50:55
Debt consolidation mortgage is one of the best reliable way to get a loan. And can be said as secured debt consolidation. Want to know more about? Check this..!
Debt consolidation is a loan taken in order to pay off a number of loans with different amount, rate of interest, mode of payment, and most importantly the period to pay off the loan. The main component of a debt consolidation loan is debt consolidation mortgage. It is the mortgage property handed over to the loan authority by the debtor. It acts as a security or a token money or property in order to take a loan for which if the debtor is unable to pay off the loan on time, the creditor or the loan authority can sell the property get back the debt amount including the interest.
However, it is not often practiced in consumer debt consolidation as that kind of loan is granted to customers in order to fulfill the desired consumer stuffs like household products, generally usable products or those things from which we cannot get any profit in return. Credit card loans come under this category.
The low interest debt consolidation loans are loan schemes where the debt amount has a low interest to be cleared. These kinds of loan has comparatively longer period of time to clear the loan. Debt consolidation mortgage is an important point in the terms and agreement chart.
Financing sector:
Debt consolidation loans are issued by different loan agencies and bank sectors. These debt consolidation financing authorities issue loans to customers so that, he or she may take the benefits from the loan and virtually profits the related bank. As the amount debited and to be cleared comprises of a particular rate of interest. Along with the loan interest the debtor has to keep some of the property as debt consolidation mortgage.
If you are looking for more information on debt consolidation mortgage then you can get it on the Internet. There are many sites which, help you to know more about it. You simply have to make a query online and you are answered within no time. So, you do not have to go out and search for someone for the information. You will be provided with all the answers to your queries so that you do not have any problem. You can always go for advice from an expert for your debt consolidation if you feel so.
Debt consolidation mortgage is one of the best reliable way to get a loan. And can be said as secured debt consolidation. Want to know more about? Check this..!
Debt consolidation is a loan taken in order to pay off a number of loans with different amount, rate of interest, mode of payment, and most importantly the period to pay off the loan. The main component of a debt consolidation loan is debt consolidation mortgage. It is the mortgage property handed over to the loan authority by the debtor. It acts as a security or a token money or property in order to take a loan for which if the debtor is unable to pay off the loan on time, the creditor or the loan authority can sell the property get back the debt amount including the interest.
However, it is not often practiced in consumer debt consolidation as that kind of loan is granted to customers in order to fulfill the desired consumer stuffs like household products, generally usable products or those things from which we cannot get any profit in return. Credit card loans come under this category.
The low interest debt consolidation loans are loan schemes where the debt amount has a low interest to be cleared. These kinds of loan has comparatively longer period of time to clear the loan. Debt consolidation mortgage is an important point in the terms and agreement chart.
Financing sector:
Debt consolidation loans are issued by different loan agencies and bank sectors. These debt consolidation financing authorities issue loans to customers so that, he or she may take the benefits from the loan and virtually profits the related bank. As the amount debited and to be cleared comprises of a particular rate of interest. Along with the loan interest the debtor has to keep some of the property as debt consolidation mortgage.
If you are looking for more information on debt consolidation mortgage then you can get it on the Internet. There are many sites which, help you to know more about it. You simply have to make a query online and you are answered within no time. So, you do not have to go out and search for someone for the information. You will be provided with all the answers to your queries so that you do not have any problem. You can always go for advice from an expert for your debt consolidation if you feel so.
Wednesday, November 3, 2010
Teaching your children how to live a healthy lifestyle
Author：佚名 Source：none Hits：114 UpdateTime：2008-10-18 23:32:48
Children are innocent beings at the tender age. This means that they are still very young to comprehend the different aspects of life. It is therefore the task of parents to properly guide their children in their everyday life so that they can become better adults in the future. Everyone can tell you, health is really crucial. So, it is significant to teach your children how to live a healthy lifestyle right from the beginning. Feeding children with solids from the start can be considered as a disadvantage. When children get used to eating solids, then you might notice processed meals and fast foods as well becoming part of their diets. This can seriously affect the health of children. Fast foods, in no means offer the right nutrients that children need. Even for adults, fast foods represent a disadvantage if consumed regularly. They contain too much fat and can eventually lead to an unhealthy lifestyle. So, teach your children to stay away from fast food as much as possible.
Moreover, cooking at home can really be a fine idea. Doing this will keep your children away from processed or easy food. When cooking at home, make it a fun exercise. Let your children help you in the process of cooking. For instance, if you prepare a homemade pizza let your children help you with the cooking procedures. Pizzas can be fun and healthy for children if cooked at home. The preparation time is not much, so children will not be bored while waiting for the food to cook. Furthermore, another way to get your children a healthy lifestyle is to encourage them to practice sports activities. Help your children to exercise. For instance, you could teach them jogging. On the other hand, you could instruct your children the different techniques of playing football. If you notice that your children have an interest in football, you could make them become supporters of your favourite team. This will encourage your children to play football having in mind that one day they could become as good as the players they see on TV or during a match at the stadium.
Increasing awareness among your children can be considered as a wise idea. In other words, right from the early age, when children start to understand meanings, you can talk to them about how bad it is to smoke or drink. Smoking is really dangerous to the health and tends to affect people with lung cancer and heart attack. Explaining this to your children from the beginning will orient their minds not to go towards such bad habits when they become older. You, as a parent, should always try to monitor your children and guide them in the best possible way to become healthy adults. With good health one will have the possibility to achieve many things in a lifetime. That is why its vital that children are taught the best habits. With good awareness, eating habits and sports activities among others, children may turn out to be very healthy adults for the future.
Children are innocent beings at the tender age. This means that they are still very young to comprehend the different aspects of life. It is therefore the task of parents to properly guide their children in their everyday life so that they can become better adults in the future. Everyone can tell you, health is really crucial. So, it is significant to teach your children how to live a healthy lifestyle right from the beginning. Feeding children with solids from the start can be considered as a disadvantage. When children get used to eating solids, then you might notice processed meals and fast foods as well becoming part of their diets. This can seriously affect the health of children. Fast foods, in no means offer the right nutrients that children need. Even for adults, fast foods represent a disadvantage if consumed regularly. They contain too much fat and can eventually lead to an unhealthy lifestyle. So, teach your children to stay away from fast food as much as possible.
Moreover, cooking at home can really be a fine idea. Doing this will keep your children away from processed or easy food. When cooking at home, make it a fun exercise. Let your children help you in the process of cooking. For instance, if you prepare a homemade pizza let your children help you with the cooking procedures. Pizzas can be fun and healthy for children if cooked at home. The preparation time is not much, so children will not be bored while waiting for the food to cook. Furthermore, another way to get your children a healthy lifestyle is to encourage them to practice sports activities. Help your children to exercise. For instance, you could teach them jogging. On the other hand, you could instruct your children the different techniques of playing football. If you notice that your children have an interest in football, you could make them become supporters of your favourite team. This will encourage your children to play football having in mind that one day they could become as good as the players they see on TV or during a match at the stadium.
Increasing awareness among your children can be considered as a wise idea. In other words, right from the early age, when children start to understand meanings, you can talk to them about how bad it is to smoke or drink. Smoking is really dangerous to the health and tends to affect people with lung cancer and heart attack. Explaining this to your children from the beginning will orient their minds not to go towards such bad habits when they become older. You, as a parent, should always try to monitor your children and guide them in the best possible way to become healthy adults. With good health one will have the possibility to achieve many things in a lifetime. That is why its vital that children are taught the best habits. With good awareness, eating habits and sports activities among others, children may turn out to be very healthy adults for the future.
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