When he looked back, even a month later, Harry found he had only scattered memories of the next few days. It was as though he had been through too much to take in any more. The recollections he did have were very painful. The worst, perhaps, was the meeting with the Diggory's that took place the following morning. .Cartier Watches Replica.
They did not blame him for what had happened; on the contrary, both thanked him for returning Cedric's body to them. Mr. Diggory sobbed through most of the interview. Mrs. Diggory's grief seemed to be beyond tears. .cartier love ring replica.
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Harry returned to Gryffindor Tower the following evening. From what Hermione and Ron told him, Dumbledore had spoken to the school that morning at breakfast. He had merely requested that they leave Harry alone, that nobody ask him questions or badger him to tell the story of what had happened in the maze. Most people, he noticed, were skirting him in the corridors, avoiding his eyes. Some whispered behind their hands as he passed. He guessed that many of them had believed Rita Skeeter's article about how disturbed and possibly dangerous he was. Perhaps they were formulating their own theories about how Cedric had died. He found he didn't care very much. He liked it best when he was with Ron and Hermione and they were talking about other things, or else letting him sit in silence while they played chess. He felt as though all three of them had reached an understanding they didn't need to put into words; that each was waiting for some sign, some word, of what was going on outside Hogwarts - and that it was useless to speculate about what might be coming until they knew anything for certain. The only time they touched upon the subject was when Ron told Harry about a meeting Mrs. Weasley had had with Dumbledore before going home. .cheap wedding dresses.
â€œShe went to ask him if you could come straight to us this summer,â€ he said. â€œBut he wants you to go back to the Dursleys, at least at first.â€ .cheap prom dresses.
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â€œShe said Dumbledore's got his reasons,â€ said Ron, shaking his head darkly. â€œI suppose we've got to trust him, haven't we?â€ .Replica Christian Louboutin UK.
The only person apart from Ron and Hermione that Harry felt able to talk to was Hagrid. As there was no longer a Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, they had those lessons free. They used the one on Thursday afternoon to go down and visit Hagrid in his cabin. It was a bright and sunny day; Fang bounded out of the open door as they approached, barking and wagging his tail madly. .Replica Christian Louboutin UK.
â€œWho's that?â€ called Hagrid, coming to the door. â€œHarry!â€ .www.ideafutura.co.uk.
He strode out to meet them, pulled Harry into a one-armed hug, ruffled his hair, and said, â€œGood ter see yeh, mate. Good ter see yeh.â€
They saw two bucket-size cups and saucers on the wooden table in front of the fireplace when they entered Hagrid's cabin.
â€œBin havinâ€™ a cuppa with Olympe,â€ Hagrid said. â€œShe's jusâ€™ left.â€
â€œWho?â€ said Ron curiously.
â€œMadame Maxime, oâ€™ course!â€ said Hagrid.
â€œYou two made up, have you?â€ said Ron.
â€œDunno what yeh're talkinâ€™ about,â€ said Hagrid airily, fetching more cups from the dresser. When he had made tea and offered around a plate of doughy cookies, he leaned back in his chair and surveyed Harry closely through his beetle-black eyes.
â€œYou all righ'?â€ he said gruffly
â€œYeah,â€ said Harry.
â€œNo, yeh're not,â€ said Hagrid. â€œCourse yeh're not. But yeh will be.â€
Harry said nothing.
â€œKnew he was goinâ€™ ter come back,â€ said Hagrid, and Harry, Ron, and Hermione looked up at him, shocked. â€œKnown it fer years. Harry. Knew he was out there, bidinâ€™ his time. It had ter happen. Well, now it has, anâ€™ we'll jusâ€™ have ter get on with it. We'll fight. Mighâ€™ be able ter stop him before he gets a good hold. That's Dumbledores plan, anyway. Great man, Dumbledore. â€˜S long as we've got him, I'm not too worried.â€
Hagrid raised his bushy eyebrows at the disbelieving expressions on their faces.
â€œNo good sittinâ€™ worryinâ€™ abouâ€™ it,â€ he said. â€œWhat's cominâ€™ will come, an we'll meet it when it does. Dumbledore told me whaâ€™ you did. Harry.â€
Hagrid's chest swelled as he looked at Harry.
â€œYeh did as much as yer father would've done, anâ€™ I canâ€™ give yeh no higher praise than that.â€
Harry smiled back at him. It was the first time he'd smiled in days. â€œWhat's Dumbledore asked you to do, Hagrid?â€ he asked. â€œHe sent Professor McGonagall to ask you and Madame Maxime to meet him - that night.â€
â€œGot a little job fer me over the summer,â€ said Hagrid. â€œSecret, though. I'm not s'pposed ter talk abouâ€™ it, no, not even ter you lot. Olympe - Madame Maxime ter you - might be cominâ€™ with me. I think she will. Think I got her persuaded.â€
â€œIs it to do with Voldemort?â€
Hagrid flinched at the sound of the name.
â€œMighâ€™ be,â€ he said evasively. â€œNowâ€¦who'd like ter come anâ€™ visit the lasâ€™ skrewt with me? I was jokinâ€™ - jokin'!â€ he added hastily, seeing the looks on their faces.
It was with a heavy heart that Harry packed his trunk up in the dormitory on the night before his return to Privet Drive. He was dreading the Leaving Feast, which was usually a cause for celebration, when the winner of the Inter-House Championship would be announced. He had avoided being in the Great Hall when it was full ever since he had left the hospital wing, preferring to eat when it was nearly empty to avoid the stares of his fellow students.
When he, Ron, and Hermione entered the Hall, they saw at once that the usual decorations were missing. The Great Hall was normally decorated with the winning House's colors for the Leaving Feast. Tonight, however, there were black drapes on the wall behind the teachersâ€™ table. Harry knew instantly that they were there as a mark of respect to Cedric.
The real Mad-Eye Moody was at the staff table now, his wooden leg and his magical eye back in place. He was extremely twitchy, jumping every time someone spoke to him. Harry couldn't blame him; Moody's fear of attack was bound to have been increased by his ten-month imprisonment in his own trunk. Professor Karkaroff's chair was empty. Harry wondered, as he sat down with the other Gryffindors, where Karkaroff was now, and whether Voldemort had caught up with him.
Madame Maxime was still there. She was sitting next to Hagrid. They were talking quietly together. Further along the table, sitting next to Professor McGonagall, was Snape. His eyes lingered on Harry for a moment as Harry looked at him. His expression was difficult to read. He looked as sour and unpleasant as ever. Harry continued to watch him, long after Snape had looked away.
What was it that Snape had done on Dumbledores orders, the night that Voldemort had returned? And whyâ€¦whyâ€¦was Dumbledore so convinced that Snape was truly on their side? He had been their spy, Dumbledore had said so in the Pensieve. Snape had turned spy against Voldemort, â€œat great personal risk.â€ Was that the job he had taken up again? Had he made contact with the Death Eaters, perhaps? Pretended that he had never really gone over to Dumbledore, that he had been, like Voldemort himself, biding his time?
Harry's musings were ended by Professor Dumbledore, who stood up at the staff table. The Great Hall, which in any case had been less noisy than it usually was at the Leaving Feast, became very quiet.
â€œThe end,â€ said Dumbledore, looking around at them all, â€œof another year.â€
He paused, and his eyes fell upon the Hufflepuff table. Theirs had been the most subdued table before he had gotten to his feet, and theirs were still the saddest and palest faces in the Hall.
â€œThere is much that I would like to say to you all tonight,â€ said Dumbledore, â€œbut I must first acknowledge the loss of a very fine person, who should be sitting here,â€ he gestured toward the Hufflepuffs, â€œenjoying our feast with us. I would like you all, please, to stand, and raise your glasses, to Cedric Diggory.â€
They did it, all of them; the benches scraped as everyone in the Hall stood, and raised their goblets, and echoed, in one loud, low, rumbling voice, â€œCedric Diggory.â€
Harry caught a glimpse of Cho through the crowd. There were tears pouring silently down her face. He looked down at the table as they all sat down again.
â€œCedric was a person who exemplified many of the qualities that distinguish Hufflepuff house,â€ Dumbledore continued. â€œHe was a good and loyal friend, a hard worker, he valued fair play. His death has affected you all, whether you knew him well or not. I think that you have the right, therefore, to know exactly how it came about.â€
Harry raised his head and stared at Dumbledore.
â€œCedric Diggory was murdered by Lord Voldemort.â€
A panicked whisper swept the Great Hall. People were staring at Dumbledore in disbelief, in horror. He looked perfectly calm as he watched them mutter themselves into silence.
â€œThe Ministry of Magic,â€ Dumbledore continued, â€œdoes not wish me to tell you this. It is possible that some of your parents will be horrified that I have done so - either because they will not believe that Lord Voldemort has returned, or because they think I should not tell you so, young as you are. It is my belief, however, that the truth is generally preferable to lies, and that any attempt to pretend that Cedric died as the result of an accident, or some sort of blunder of his own, is an insult to his memory.â€
Stunned and frightened, every face in the Hall was turned toward Dumbledore nowâ€¦or almost every face. Over at the Slytherin table. Harry saw Draco Malfoy muttering something to Crabbe and Goyle. Harry felt a hot, sick swoop of anger in his stomach. He forced himself to look back at Dumbledore.
â€œThere is somebody else who must be mentioned in connection with Cedric's death,â€ Dumbledore went on. â€œI am talking, of course, about Harry Potter.â€
A kind of ripple crossed the Great Hall as a few heads turned in Harry's direction before flicking back to face Dumbledore.
â€œHarry Potter managed to escape Lord Voldemort,â€ said Dumbledore. â€œHe risked his own life to return Cedric's body to Hogwarts. He showed, in every respect, the sort of bravery that few wizards have ever shown in facing Lord Voldemort, and for this, I honor him.â€
Dumbledore turned gravely to Harry and raised his goblet once more. Nearly everyone in the Great Hall followed suit. They murmured his name, as they had murmured Cedric's, and drank to him. But through a gap in the standing figures. Harry saw that Malfoy, Crabbe, Goyle, and many of the other Slytherins had remained defiantly in their seats, their goblets untouched. Dumbledore, who after all possessed no magical eye, did not see them.
When everyone had once again resumed their seats, Dumbledore continued, â€œThe Triwizard Tournament's aim was to further and promote magical understanding. In the light of what has happened - of Lord Voldemort's return - such ties are more important than ever before.â€
Dumbledore looked from Madame Maxime and Hagrid, to Fleur Delacour and her fellow Beauxbatons students, to Viktor Krum and the Durmstrangs at the Slytherin table. Krum, Harry saw, looked wary, almost frightened, as though he expected Dumbledore to say something harsh.
â€œEvery guest in this Hall,â€ said Dumbledore, and his eyes lingered upon the Durmstrang students, â€œwill be welcomed back here at any time, should they wish to come. I say to you all, once again - in the light of Lord Voldemort's return, we are only as strong as we are united, as weak as we are divided. Lord Voldemort's gift for spreading discord and enmity is very great. We can fight it only by showing an equally strong bond of friendship and trust. Differences of habit and language are nothing at all if our aims are identical and our hearts are open.
â€œIt is my belief- and never have I so hoped that I am mistaken - that we are all facing dark and difficult times. Some of you in this Hall have already suffered directly at the hands of Lord Voldemort. Many of your families have been torn asunder. A week ago, a student was taken from our midst.
â€œRemember Cedric. Remember, if the time should come when you have to make a choice between what is right and what is easy, remember what happened to a boy who was good, and kind, and brave, because he strayed across the path of Lord Voldemort. Remember Cedric Diggory.â€
Harry's trunk was packed; Hedwig was back in her cage on top of it. He, Ron, and Hermione were waiting in the crowded entrance hall with the rest of the fourth years for the carriages that would take them back to Hogsmeade station. It was another beautiful summer's day. He supposed that Privet Drive would be hot and leafy, its flower beds a riot of color, when he arrived there that evening. The thought gave him no pleasure at all.
He looked around. Fleur Delacour was hurrying up the stone steps into the castle. Beyond her, far across the grounds. Harry could see Hagrid helping Madame Maxime to back two of the giant horses into their harness. The Beauxbatons carriage was about to take off.
â€œWe will see each uzzer again, I â€˜ope,â€ said Fleur as she reached him, holding out her hand. â€œI am â€˜oping to get a job â€˜ere, to improve my Eenglish.â€
â€œIt's very good already,â€ said Ron in a strangled sort of voice. Fleur smiled at him; Hermione scowled.
â€œGood-bye, â€˜Arry,â€ said Fleur, turning to go. â€œIt â€˜az been a pleasure meeting you!â€
Harry's spirits couldn't help but lift slightly as he watched Fleur hurry back across the lawns to Madame Maxime, her silvery hair rippling in the sunlight.
Wonder how the Durmstrang students are getting back,â€ said Ron. â€œDâ€™ you reckon they can steer that ship without Karkaroff?â€
â€œKarkaroff did not steer,â€ said a gruff voice. â€œHe stayed in his cabin and let us do the vork.â€
Krum had come to say good-bye to Hermione. â€œCould I have a vord?â€ he asked her.
â€œOhâ€¦yesâ€¦all right,â€ said Hermione, looking slightly flustered, and following Krum through the crowd and out of sight.
â€œYou'd better hurry up!â€ Ron called loudly after her. â€œThe carriages'll be here in a minute!â€
He let Harry keep a watch for the carriages, however, and spent the next few minutes craning his neck over the crowd to try and see what Krum and Hermione might be up to. They returned quite soon. Ron stared at Hermione, but her face was quite impassive.
â€œI liked Diggory,â€ said Krum abruptly to Harry. â€œHe vos alvays polite to me. Alvays. Even though I vos from Durmstrang - with Karkaroff,â€ he added, scowling.
â€œHave you got a new headmaster yet?â€ said Harry
Krum shrugged. He held out his hand as Fleur had done, shook Harry's hand, and then Ron's. Ron looked as though he was suffering some sort of painful internal struggle. Krum had already started walking away when Ron burst out, â€œCan I have your autograph?â€
Hermione turned away, smiling at the horseless carriages that were now trundling toward them up the drive, as Krum, looking surprised but gratified, signed a fragment of parchment for Ron.
The weather could not have been more different on the journey back to King's Cross than it had been on their way to Hogwarts the previous September. There wasn't a single cloud in the sky. Harry, Ron, and Hermione had managed to get a compartment to themselves. Pigwidgeon was once again hidden under Ron's dress robes to stop him from hooting continually; Hedwig was dozing, her head under her wing, and Crookshanks was curled up in a spare seat like a large, furry ginger cushion. Harry, Ron, and Hermione talked more fully and freely than they had all week as the train sped them southward. Harry felt as though Dumbledore's speech at the Leaving Feast had unblocked him, somehow. It was less painful to discuss what had happened now. They broke off their conversation about what action Dumbledore might be taking, even now, to stop Voldemort only when the lunch trolley arrived.
When Hermione returned from the trolley and put her money back into her schoolbag, she dislodged a copy of the Daily Prophet that she had been carrying in there. Harry looked at it, unsure whether he really wanted to know what it might say, but Hermione, seeing him looking at it, said calmly, â€œThere's nothing in there. You can look for yourself, but there's nothing at all. I've been checking every day. Just a small piece the day after the third task saying you won the tournament. They didn't even mention Cedric. Nothing about any of it. If you ask me. Fudge is forcing them to keep quiet.â€
â€œHe'll never keep Rita quiet,â€ said Harry. â€œNot on a story like this.â€
â€œOh, Rita hasn't written anything at all since the third task,â€ said Hermione in an oddly constrained voice. â€œAs a matter of fact,â€ she added, her voice now trembling slightly, â€œRita Skeeter isn't going to be writing anything at all for a while. Not unless she wants me to spill the beans on her.â€
â€œWhat are you talking about?â€ said Ron.
â€œI found out how she was listening in on private conversations when she wasn't supposed to be coming onto the grounds,â€ said Hermione in a rush.
Harry had the impression that Hermione had been dying to tell them this for days, but that she had restrained herself in light of everything else that had happened.
â€œHow was she doing it?â€ said Harry at once.
â€œHow did you find out?â€ said Ron, staring at her.
â€œWell, it was you, really, who gave me the idea. Harry,â€ she said.
â€œDid I?â€ said Harry, perplexed. â€œHow?â€
â€œBugging,â€ said Hermione happily.
â€œBut you said they didn't work -â€
â€œOh not electronic bugs,â€ said Hermione. â€œNo, you seeâ€¦Rita Skeeterâ€ - Hermione's voice trembled with quiet triumph - â€œis an unregistered Animagus. She can turn -â€
Hermione pulled a small sealed glass jar out other bag.
â€œ- into a beetle.â€
â€œYou're kidding,â€ said Ron. â€œYou haven'tâ€¦she's notâ€¦â€
â€œOh yes she is,â€ said Hermione happily, brandishing the jar at them.
Inside were a few twigs and leaves and one large, fat beetle.
â€œThat's never - you're kidding -â€ Ron whispered, lifting the jar to his eyes.
â€œNo, I'm not,â€ said Hermione, beaming. â€œI caught her on the windowsill in the hospital wing. Look very closely, and you'll notice the markings around her antennae are exactly like those foul glasses she wears.â€
Harry looked and saw that she was quite right. He also remembered something.
â€œThere was a beetle on the statue the night we heard Hagrid telling Madame Maxime about his mum!â€
â€œExactly,â€ said Hermione. â€œAnd Viktor pulled a beetle out of my hair after we'd had our conversation by the lake. And unless I'm very much mistaken, Rita was perched on the windowsill of the Divination class the day your scar hurt. She's been buzzing around for stories all year.â€
â€œWhen we saw Malfoy under that treeâ€¦â€ said Ron slowly.
â€œHe was talking to her, in his hand,â€ said Hermione. â€œHe knew, of course. That's how she's been getting all those nice little interviews with the Slytherins. They wouldn't care that she was doing something illegal, as long as they were giving her horrible stuff about us and Hagrid.â€
Hermione took the glass jar back from Ron and smiled at the beetle, which buzzed angrily against the glass.
â€œI've told her I'll let her out when we get back to London,â€ said Hermione. â€œI've put an Unbreakable Charm on the jar, you see, so she can't transform. And I've told her she's to keep her quill to herself for a whole year. See if she can't break the habit of writing horrible lies about people.â€
Smiling serenely, Hermione placed the beetle back inside her schoolbag.
The door of the compartment slid open.
â€œVery clever. Granger,â€ said Draco Malfoy.
Crabbe and Goyle were standing behind him. All three of them looked more pleased with themselves, more arrogant and more menacing, than Harry had ever seen them.
â€œSo,â€ said Malfoy slowly, advancing slightly into the compartment and looking slowly around at them, a smirk quivering on his lips. â€œYou caught some pathetic reporter, and Potter's Dumbledore's favorite boy again. Big deal.â€
His smirk widened. Crabbe and Goyle leered.
â€œTrying not to think about it, are we?â€ said Malfoy softly, looking around at all three of them. â€œTrying to pretend it hasn't happened?â€
â€œGet out,â€ said Harry.
He had not been this close to Malfoy since he had watched him muttering to Crabbe and Goyle during Dumbledores speech about Cedric. He could feel a kind of ringing in his ears. His hand gripped his wand under his robes.
â€œYou've picked the losing side, Potter! I warned you! I told you you ought to choose your company more carefully, remember? When we met on the train, first day at Hogwarts? I told you not to hang around with riffraff like this!â€ He jerked his head at Ron and Hermione. â€œToo late now. Potter! They'll be the first to go, now the Dark Lord's back! Mudbloods and Muggle-lovers first! Well - second - Diggory was the f-â€
It was as though someone had exploded a box of fireworks within the compartment. Blinded by the blaze of the spells that had blasted from every direction, deafened by a series of bangs, Harry blinked and looked down at the floor.
Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle were all lying unconscious in the doorway. He, Ron, and Hermione were on their feet, all three of them having used a different hex. Nor were they the only ones to have done so.
â€œThought we'd see what those three were up to,â€ said Fred matter-of-factly, stepping onto Goyle and into the compartment. He had his wand out, and so did George, who was careful to tread on Malfoy as he followed Fred inside.
â€œInteresting effect,â€ said George, looking down at Crabbe. â€œWho used the Furnunculus Curse?â€
â€œMe,â€ said Harry.
â€œOdd,â€ said George lightly. â€œI used Jelly-Legs. Looks as though those two shouldn't be mixed. He seems to have sprouted little tentacles all over his face. Well, let's not leave them here, they don't add much to the decor.â€
Ron, Harry, and George kicked, rolled, and pushed the unconscious Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle - each of whom looked distinctly the worse for the jumble of jinxes with which they had been hit - out into the corridor, then came back into the compartment and rolled the door shut.
â€œExploding Snap, anyone?â€ said Fred, pulling out a pack of cards.
They were halfway through their fifth game when Harry decided to ask them.
â€œYou going to tell us, then?â€ he said to George. â€œWho you were blackmailing?â€
â€œOh,â€ said George darkly. â€œThat.â€
â€œIt doesn't matter,â€ said Fred, shaking his head impatiently. â€œIt wasn't anything important. Not now, anyway.â€
â€œWe've given up,â€ said George, shrugging.
But Harry, Ron, and Hermione kept on asking, and finally, Fred said, â€œAll right, all right, if you really want to knowâ€¦it was Ludo Bagman.â€
â€œBagman?â€ said Harry sharply. â€œAre you saying he was involved in -â€
â€œNah,â€ said George gloomily. â€œNothing like that. Stupid git. He wouldn't have the brains.â€
â€œWell, what, then?â€ said Ron.
Fred hesitated, then said, â€œYou remember that bet we had with him at the Quidditch World Cup? About how Ireland would win, but Krum would get the Snitch?â€
â€œYeah,â€ said Harry and Ron slowly.
â€œWell, the git paid us in leprechaun gold he'd caught from the Irish mascots.â€
â€œSo,â€ said Fred impatiently, â€œit vanished, didn't it? By next morning, it had gone!â€
â€œBut - it must've been an accident, mustn't it?â€ said Hermione.
George laughed very bitterly.
â€œYeah, that's what we thought, at first. We thought if we just wrote to him, and told him he'd made a mistake, he'd cough up. But nothing doing. Ignored our letter. We kept trying to talk to him about it at Hogwarts, but he was always making some excuse to get away from us.â€
â€œIn the end, he turned pretty nasty,â€ said Fred. â€œTold us we were too young to gamble, and he wasn't giving us anything.â€
â€œSo we asked for our money back,â€ said George glowering.
â€œHe didn't refuse!â€ gasped Hermione.
â€œRight in one,â€ said Fred.
â€œBut that was all your savings!â€ said Ron.
â€œTell me about it,â€ said George. â€œ'Course, we found out what was going on in the end. Lee Jordan's dad had had a bit of trouble getting money off Bagman as well. Turns out he's in big trouble with the goblins. Borrowed loads of gold off them. A gang of them cornered him in the woods after the World Cup and took all the gold he had, and it still wasn't enough to cover all his debts. They followed him all the way to Hogwarts to keep an eye on him. He's lost everything gambling. Hasn't got two Galleons to rub together. And you know how the idiot tried to pay the goblins back?â€
â€œHow?â€ said Harry.
â€œHe put a bet on you, mate,â€ said Fred. â€œPut a big bet on you to win the tournament. Bet against the goblins.â€
â€œSo that's why he kept trying to help me win!â€ said Harry. â€œWell - I did win, didn't I? So he can pay you your gold!â€
â€œNope,â€ said George, shaking his head. â€œThe goblins play as dirty as him. They say you drew with Diggory, and Bagman was betting you'd win outright. So Bagman had to run for it. He did run for it right after the third task.â€
George sighed deeply and started dealing out the cards again.
The rest of the journey passed pleasantly enough; Harry wished it could have gone on all summer, in fact, and that he would never arrive at King's Crossâ€¦but as he had learned the hard way that year, time will not slow down when something unpleasant lies ahead, and all too soon, the Hogwarts Express was pulling in at platform nine and three-quarters. The usual confusion and noise filled the corridors as the students began to disembark. Ron and Hermione struggled out past Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle, carrying their trunks. Harry, however, stayed put.
â€œFred - George - wait a moment.â€
The twins turned. Harry pulled open his trunk and drew out his Triwizard winnings.
â€œTake it,â€ he said, and he thrust the sack into George's hands.
â€œWhat?â€ said Fred, looking flabbergasted.
â€œTake it,â€ Harry repeated firmly. â€œI don't want it.â€
â€œYou're mental,â€ said George, trying to push it back at Harry.
â€œNo, I'm not,â€ said Harry. â€œYou take it, and get inventing. It's for the joke shop.â€
â€œHe is mental,â€ Fred said in an almost awed voice.
â€œListen,â€ said Harry firmly. â€œIf you don't take it, I'm throwing it down the drain. I don't want it and I don't need it. But I could do with a few laughs. We could all do with a few laughs. I've got a feeling we're going to need them more than usual before long.â€
â€œHarry,â€ said George weakly, weighing the money bag in his hands, â€œthere's got to be a thousand Galleons in here.â€
â€œYeah,â€ said Harry, grinning. â€œThink how many Canary Creams that is.â€
The twins stared at him.
â€œJust don't tell your mum where you got itâ€¦although she might not be so keen for you to join the Ministry anymore, come to think of it.â€¦â€
â€œHarry,â€ Fred began, but Harry pulled out his wand.
â€œLook,â€ he said flatly, â€œtake it, or I'll hex you. I know some good ones now. Just do me one favor, okay? Buy Ron some different dress robes and say they're from you.â€
He left the compartment before they could say another word, stepping over Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle, who were still lying on the floor, covered in hex marks.
Uncle Vernon was waiting beyond the barrier. Mrs. Weasley was close by him. She hugged Harry very tightly when she saw him and whispered in his ear, â€œI think Dumbledore will let you come to us later in the summer. Keep in touch, Harry.â€
â€œSee you. Harry,â€ said Ron, clapping him on the back.
â€œ'Bye, Harry!â€ said Hermione, and she did something she had never done before, and kissed him on the cheek.
â€œHarry - thanks,â€ George muttered, while Fred nodded fervently at his side.
Harry winked at them, turned to Uncle Vernon, and followed him silently from the station. There was no point worrying yet, he told himself, as he got into the back of the Dursleysâ€™ car.
As Hagrid had said, what would come, would comeâ€¦and he would have to meet it when it did.
The Goblet Of Fire
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