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Youre mental, said George, trying to push it back at Harry. No, Im not, said Harry. You take it, and get inventing. Its for the joke shop. He is mental, Fred said in an almost awed voice. Listen, said Harry firmly. If you dont take it, Im throwing it down the drain. I dont want it and I dont need it. But I could do with a few laughs. We could all do with a few laughs. Ive got a feeling were going to need them more than usual before long. Harry, said George weakly, weighing the money Server для counter strike 1.6 in his hands, theres got to be a thousand Galleons in here. Yeah, said Harry, grinning. Think how many Canary Creams that is. The twins stared at him. Just dont tell your mum where you got it. although she might not be so keen for you to join the Ministry anymore, come to think of it. Harry, Fred began, but Harry pulled out his wand. Look, he said flatly, take it, or Ill hex you. I know some good ones now. Just do me one favor, okay. Buy Ron some different dress robes and say theyre from you. 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, I think Dumbledore will let you come to us later in the summer. Keep in touch, Harry. See you, Harry, said Ron, clapping him on the back. Bye, Harry. said Hermione, and she did something she had never done before, and kissed him on the cheek. Harry - thanks, 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 Dursleys car. As Hagrid had said, what would come, would come. and he would have to article source it when it did. Text copyright © 2000 by J. Rowling Cover illustration by Olly Moss © Pottermore Limited 2015. Interior illustrations by Mary GrandPré © 2000 by Warner Bros. Harry Potter characters, names and related indicia are trademarks of and © Warner Bros. Ent. Harry Potter Publishing Rights © J. Rowling. This digital edition first published by Pottermore Limited in 2015 Published in print in the U. by Arthur A. Levine Books, an imprint of Scholastic Inc. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced in whole or in part, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without written permission of the publisher. ISBN 978-1-78110-647-1 TO NEIL, JESSICA, AND DAVID, WHO MAKE MY WORLD MAGICAL. CONTENTS ONE Dudley Demented TWO A Peck of Owls THREE The Advance Guard FOUR Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place FIVE The Order of the Phoenix SIX The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black SEVEN The Ministry of Magic EIGHT The Hearing NINE The Woes of Mrs. Weasley TEN Luna Lovegood ELEVEN The Just click for source Hats New Song TWELVE Professor Umbridge THIRTEEN Detention with Dolores FOURTEEN Percy and Padfoot FIFTEEN The Hogwarts High Inquisitor SIXTEEN In the Hogs Head SEVENTEEN Educational Decree Number Twenty-Four EIGHTEEN Dumbledores Army NINETEEN The Lion and learn more here Serpent TWENTY Hagrids Tale TWENTY-ONE The Eye of the Snake TWENTY-TWO Server для counter strike 1.6. Mungos Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries TWENTY-THREE Christmas on the Closed Ward TWENTY-FOUR Occlumency TWENTY-FIVE The Beetle at Bay TWENTY-SIX Seen and Unforeseen TWENTY-SEVEN The Centaur and the Sneak TWENTY-EIGHT Snapes Worst Memory TWENTY-NINE Career Advice THIRTY Grawp THIRTY-ONE O. s THIRTY-TWO Out of the Fire THIRTY-THREE Fight and Flight THIRTY-FOUR The Department of Mysteries THIRTY-FIVE Beyond the Veil THIRTY-SIX The Only More info He Ever Feared THIRTY-SEVEN The Lost Prophecy THIRTY-EIGHT The Second War Begins T CHAPTER ONE DUDLEY DEMENTED he hottest day of the summer so far was drawing to a close and a drowsy silence lay over the large, square houses of Privet Drive. Cars that were usually gleaming stood dusty in their drives and lawns that were once emerald green lay parched and yellowing; the use of hosepipes had been banned due to drought. Deprived of their usual car-washing and lawn-mowing pursuits, the inhabitants of Privet Drive had retreated into the shade of their cool houses, windows thrown wide in the hope of tempting in a nonexistent breeze. The only person left outdoors was a teenage boy who was lying flat on his back in a flower bed outside number four. He was a skinny, black-haired, bespectacled boy who had the article source, slightly unhealthy look of someone who has grown a lot in a short space of time. His jeans were torn and dirty, his T-shirt baggy and faded, and the soles of his trainers were peeling away from the uppers. Harry Potters appearance did not endear him to the neighbors, who were the sort of people who thought scruffiness ought to be punishable by law, but as he had hidden himself behind a large hydrangea bush this evening he was quite invisible to passersby. In fact, the only way he would be spotted was if his Uncle Vernon or Aunt Petunia stuck their heads out of the living room window and looked straight down into the flower bed below. On the whole, Harry thought he was to be congratulated on his idea of hiding here. He was not, perhaps, very comfortable lying on the hot, hard earth, but on the other hand, nobody was glaring at him, grinding their teeth so loudly that he could not hear the news, or shooting nasty questions at him, as had happened every time he had tried sitting down in the living room and watching television with his aunt and uncle. Almost as though this thought had fluttered through the open window, Vernon Dursley, Harrys uncle, suddenly spoke. Glad to see the boys stopped trying to butt in. Where is he anyway. I dont know, said Aunt Petunia unconcernedly. Not in the house. Uncle Vernon grunted. Watching the news. he said scathingly. Id like to know what hes really up to. As if a normal boy cares whats on the news - Dudley hasnt got a clue whats going on, doubt he knows who the Prime Minister is. Anyway, its not as if thered be anything about his lot on our news - Vernon, shh. said Aunt Petunia. The windows open. Oh - yes - sorry, dear. The Dursleys fell silent. Harry listened to a jingle about Fruit N Bran breakfast cereal while he watched Mrs. Figg, a batty, cat-loving old lady from nearby Wisteria Walk, amble slowly past. She was frowning and muttering to herself. Harry was very pleased that he was concealed behind the bush; Mrs. Figg had recently taken to asking him around for tea whenever she met him in the street. She had rounded the corner and vanished from view before Uncle Vernons voice floated out of the window again. Dudders out for tea. At the Polkisses, said Aunt Petunia fondly. Hes got so many little friends, hes so popular. Harry repressed a snort with difficulty. The Dursleys really were astonishingly stupid about their son, Dudley; they had swallowed all his dimwitted lies about having tea with a different member of his gang every night of the summer holidays. Harry knew perfectly well that Dudley had not been to tea anywhere; he and his gang spent every evening vandalizing the play park, smoking on street corners, and throwing stones at passing cars and children. Harry had seen them at it during his evening walks around Little Whinging; he had spent most of the holidays wandering the streets, scavenging newspapers from bins along the way. The opening notes of the music that heralded the seven oclock news reached Harrys ears and his stomach turned over. Perhaps tonight - after a month of waiting - would be the night - Record numbers of stranded holidaymakers fill airports as the Spanish baggage-handlersstrike see more its second week - Give em a lifelong siesta, I would, snarled Uncle Vernon over the end of the newsreaders sentence, but no matter: Outside in the flower bed, Harrys stomach seemed to unclench. If anything had happened, it would surely have been the first item on the news; death and destruction were more important than stranded holidaymakers. He let out a long, slow breath and stared up at the brilliant blue sky. Every day this summer had been the same: the tension, the expectation, the temporary relief, and then mounting tension again. and always, growing more insistent all the time, the question of why nothing had happened yet. He kept listening, just in case there was some small clue, not recognized for what it really was by the Muggles - an unexplained disappearance, perhaps, or some strange accident. but the baggage-handlersstrike was followed by news on the drought in the Southeast (I hope hes listening next door. bellowed Uncle Vernon, with his sprinklers on at three in the morning!); then a helicopter that had almost crashed in a field in Surrey, then a famous actresss divorce from her famous husband (as if were interested in their sordid affairs, sniffed Aunt Petunia, who had followed the case obsessively in every magazine she could lay her bony hands on). Harry closed his eyes against the now blazing evening sky as the newsreader said, And finally, Bungy the budgie has found a novel way of keeping cool this summer. Bungy, who lives at the Five Feathers in Barnsley, has learned to water-ski. Mary Dorkins went to find out more. Harry opened his eyes again. If they had reached water-skiing budgerigars, there was nothing else worth hearing. He rolled cautiously onto his front and raised himself onto his knees Server для counter strike 1.6 elbows, preparing to crawl out from under the window. He had moved about two inches when several things happened in very quick succession. A loud, echoing crack broke the sleepy silence like a gunshot; a cat streaked out from under a parked car and flew out of sight; a shriek, a bellowed oath, and the sound of breaking china came from the Dursleys living room, and as though Harry had been waiting for this signal, he jumped to his feet, at the same time pulling from the waistband of his jeans a thin https://rtsgames.cloud/games/first-pc-game.php wand as if he were unsheathing a sword. But before he could draw himself up to full height, the top of his head collided for hp pavilion gaming desktop pc business the Dursleys open window, and the resultant crash made Aunt Petunia scream even louder. Harry felt as if his head had been split in two; eyes streaming, he swayed, trying to focus on the street and spot the source of the noise, but he had barely staggered upright again when two large purple hands reached through the open window and closed tightly around his throat. Put - it - away. Uncle Vernon snarled into Harrys ear. Now.

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