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<s> The Ministry of Magic</s> | Ministry of Magic</s> |
<s> Harry awoke at half past five the next morning as abruptly and completely as if somebody had yelled in his ear. For a few moments he lay immobile as the prospect of the disciplinary hearing filled every tiny particle of his brain, then, unable to bear it, he leapt out of bed and put on his glasses. Harry scrambled into them. The blank picture on the wall sniggered. He did not stir as Harry crossed the room, stepped out on to the landing and closed the door softly behind him. He had expected it to be empty, but when he reached the door he heard the soft rumble of voices on the other side. She leapt to her feet the moment Harry entered. 'Breakfast,' she said as she pulled out her wand and hurried over to the fire. 'M - m - morning, Harry,' yawned Tonks. Her hair was blonde and curly this morning. 'Sleep all right?'</s> | awoke at half past five the next morning as abruptly and completely as if somebody had yelled in his ear. For a few moments he lay immobile as the prospect of the disciplinary hearing filled every tiny particle of his brain, then, unable to bear it, he leapt out of bed and put on his glasses. Harry scrambled into them. The blank picture on the wall sniggered. He did not stir as Harry crossed the room, stepped out on to the landing and closed the door softly behind him. He had expected it to be empty, but when he reached the door he heard the soft rumble of voices on the other side. She leapt to her feet the moment Harry entered. 'Breakfast,' she said as she pulled out her wand and hurried over to the fire. 'M - m - morning, Harry,' yawned Tonks. Her hair was blonde and curly this morning. 'Sleep all right?'</s> |
<s> 'Yeah,' said Harry. 'I've b - b - been up all night,' she said, with another shuddering yawn. 'Come and sit down...'</s> | Yeah,' said Harry. 'I've b - b - been up all night,' she said, with another shuddering yawn. 'Come and sit down...'</s> |
<s> She drew out a chair, knocking over the one beside it ir the process. 'Porridge? Muffins? Kippers? Bacon and eggs? Toast?'</s> | drew out a chair, knocking over the one beside it ir the process. 'Porridge? Muffins? Kippers? Bacon and eggs? Toast?'</s> |
<s> 'Just - just toast, thanks,' said Harry. Lupin glanced at Harry, then said to Tonks, 'What were you saying about Scrimgeour?'</s> | Just - just toast, thanks,' said Harry. Lupin glanced at Harry, then said to Tonks, 'What were you saying about Scrimgeour?'</s> |
<s> 'Oh... yeah... well, we need to be a bit more careful, he's been asking Kingsley and me funny questions...'</s> | Oh... yeah... well, we need to be a bit more careful, he's been asking Kingsley and me funny questions...'</s> |
<s> Harry felt vaguely grateful that he was not required to join in the conversation. His insides were squirming. He wished she wouldn't. '... and I'll have to tell Dumbledore I can't do night duty tomorrow, I'm just t - t - too tired,' Tonks finished, yawning hugely again. He turned from Tonks to Harry. 'How are you feeling?'</s> | felt vaguely grateful that he was not required to join in the conversation. His insides were squirming. He wished she wouldn't. '... and I'll have to tell Dumbledore I can't do night duty tomorrow, I'm just t - t - too tired,' Tonks finished, yawning hugely again. He turned from Tonks to Harry. 'How are you feeling?'</s> |
<s> Harry shrugged. 'In a few hours' time you'll be cleared.'</s> | shrugged. 'In a few hours' time you'll be cleared.'</s> |
<s> Harry said nothing. The hearings on my floor, in Amelia Bones's office. She's Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, and the one who'll be questioning you.'</s> | said nothing. The hearings on my floor, in Amelia Bones's office. She's Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, and the one who'll be questioning you.'</s> |
<s> 'Amelia Bones is OK, Harry,' said Tonks earnestly. 'She's fair, she'll hear you out.'</s> | Amelia Bones is OK, Harry,' said Tonks earnestly. 'She's fair, she'll hear you out.'</s> |
<s> 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.'</s> | nodded, still unable to think of anything to say. 'Don't lose your temper,' said Sirius abruptly. 'Be polite and stick to the facts.'</s> |
<s> Harry nodded again. The law's on your side,' said Lupin quietly. She pressed hard on the top of his head. 'Doesn't it ever lie flat?' she said desperately. Harry shook his head. I think we'll go now,' he said. 'We're a bit early, but I think you 11 be better off at the Ministry than hanging around here.'</s> | nodded again. The law's on your side,' said Lupin quietly. She pressed hard on the top of his head. 'Doesn't it ever lie flat?' she said desperately. Harry shook his head. I think we'll go now,' he said. 'We're a bit early, but I think you 11 be better off at the Ministry than hanging around here.'</s> |
<s> 'OK,' said Harry automatically, dropping his toast and getting to his feet. 'You'll be all right, Harry,' said Tonks, palling him on the arm. 'Good luck,' said Lupin. 'I'm sure it will be fine.'</s> | OK,' said Harry automatically, dropping his toast and getting to his feet. 'You'll be all right, Harry,' said Tonks, palling him on the arm. 'Good luck,' said Lupin. 'I'm sure it will be fine.'</s> |
<s> 'And if it's not,' said Sirius grimly, 'I'll see to Amelia Bones for you...'</s> | And if it's not,' said Sirius grimly, 'I'll see to Amelia Bones for you...'</s> |
<s> Harry smiled weakly. 'We've all got our fingers crossed,' she said. 'Right,' said Harry. 'Well... He could hear Sirius's mother grunting in her sleep behind her curtains. 'You don't normally walk to work, do you?' Harry asked him, as they set off briskly around the square... makes a better impression, given what you're being disciplined for.. Harry knew it was clenched around his wand. The run-down streets were al most deserted, but when they arrived at the miserable little underground station they found it already lull of early-morning commuters. 'Simply fabulous,' he whispered, indicating the automatic ticket machines. 'Wonderfully ingenious.'</s> | smiled weakly. 'We've all got our fingers crossed,' she said. 'Right,' said Harry. 'Well... He could hear Sirius's mother grunting in her sleep behind her curtains. 'You don't normally walk to work, do you?' Harry asked him, as they set off briskly around the square... makes a better impression, given what you're being disciplined for.. Harry knew it was clenched around his wand. The run-down streets were al most deserted, but when they arrived at the miserable little underground station they found it already lull of early-morning commuters. 'Simply fabulous,' he whispered, indicating the automatic ticket machines. 'Wonderfully ingenious.'</s> |
<s> They're out of order,' said Harry, pointing at the sign. 'Yes, but even so.. 'Four more stops, Harry... Three stops led now... Two stops to go, Harry...'</s> | 're out of order,' said Harry, pointing at the sign. 'Yes, but even so.. 'Four more stops, Harry... Three stops led now... Two stops to go, Harry...'</s> |
<s> 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... 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.'</s> | 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... 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.'</s> |
<s> 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. 'After you, Harry.'</s> | 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. 'After you, Harry.'</s> |
<s> He opened the telephone-box door. Harry stepped inside, wondering what on earth this was about. 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. 'Let's see... six...' he dialled the number, 'two... four... and another four... and another two.. 'Welcome to the Ministry of Magic. Please state your name and business.'</s> | opened the telephone-box door. Harry stepped inside, wondering what on earth this was about. 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. 'Let's see... six...' he dialled the number, 'two... four... and another four... and another two.. 'Welcome to the Ministry of Magic. Please state your name and business.'</s> |
<s> 'Er....'</s> | Er....'</s> |
<s> 'Thank you,' said the cool female voice. 'Visitor, please take the badge and attach it to the front of your robes.'</s> | Thank you,' said the cool female voice. 'Visitor, please take the badge and attach it to the front of your robes.'</s> |
<s> 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 '</s> | 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 '</s> |
<s> 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. 'The Ministry of Magic wishes you a pleasant day,' said the woman's voice. 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 locking adoringly up at the witch and wizard. 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:</s> | 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. 'The Ministry of Magic wishes you a pleasant day,' said the woman's voice. 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 locking adoringly up at the witch and wizard. 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:</s> |
<s> 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. 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. '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?'</s> | 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. 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. '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?'</s> |
<s> '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.'</s> | 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.'</s> |
<s> 'Hang on...' said the wizard slowly. His eyes had darted from the silver visitor's badge on Harry's chest to his forehead. Nearby, stood a big bearded wizard holding a large cardboard box which was emitting rasping noises. 'We're not sure,' said the wizard seriously. 'We thought it was a bog-standard chicken until it started breathing fire. Several witches and wizards were looking at him curiously; he stared at his feet to avoid catching anyone's eye, flattening his fringe as he did so. The grilles slid shut with a crash and the lift ascended slowly, chains rattling, while the same cool female voice Harry had heard in the telephone box rang out again. 'Level Seven, Department of Magical Games and Sports, incorporating the British and Irish Quidditch League Headquarters, Official Gobstones Club and Ludicrous Patents Office.'</s> | Hang on...' said the wizard slowly. His eyes had darted from the silver visitor's badge on Harry's chest to his forehead. Nearby, stood a big bearded wizard holding a large cardboard box which was emitting rasping noises. 'We're not sure,' said the wizard seriously. 'We thought it was a bog-standard chicken until it started breathing fire. Several witches and wizards were looking at him curiously; he stared at his feet to avoid catching anyone's eye, flattening his fringe as he did so. The grilles slid shut with a crash and the lift ascended slowly, chains rattling, while the same cool female voice Harry had heard in the telephone box rang out again. 'Level Seven, Department of Magical Games and Sports, incorporating the British and Irish Quidditch League Headquarters, Official Gobstones Club and Ludicrous Patents Office.'</s> |
<s> The lift doors opened. Harry glimpsed an untidy-looking corridor, with various posters of Quidditch teams tacked lopsidedly on the walls. One of the wizards in the lift, who was carrying an armful of broomsticks, extricated himself with difficulty and disappeared down the corridor. The doors closed, the lift juddered upwards again and the woman's voice announced:</s> | lift doors opened. Harry glimpsed an untidy-looking corridor, with various posters of Quidditch teams tacked lopsidedly on the walls. One of the wizards in the lift, who was carrying an armful of broomsticks, extricated himself with difficulty and disappeared down the corridor. The doors closed, the lift juddered upwards again and the woman's voice announced:</s> |
<s> 'Level Six, Department of Magical Transportation, incorporating the Floo Network Authority, Broom Regulatory Control, Portkey Office and Apparation Test Centre.'</s> | Level Six, Department of Magical Transportation, incorporating the Floo Network Authority, Broom Regulatory Control, Portkey Office and Apparation Test Centre.'</s> |
<s> Once again the lift doors opened and four or five witches and wizards got out; at the same time, several paper aeroplanes swooped into the lift. Harry stared up at them as they flapped idly around above his head; they were a pale violet colour and he could see Ministry of Magic stamped along the edge of their wings. 'We used to use owls, but the mess was unbelievable... droppings a I over the desks</s> | again the lift doors opened and four or five witches and wizards got out; at the same time, several paper aeroplanes swooped into the lift. Harry stared up at them as they flapped idly around above his head; they were a pale violet colour and he could see Ministry of Magic stamped along the edge of their wings. 'We used to use owls, but the mess was unbelievable... droppings a I over the desks</s> |
<s> As they clattered upwards again the memos flapped around the lamp swaying from the lift's ceiling. 'Level Five, Department of International Magical Co-operation, incorporating the International Magical Trading Standards Body, the International Magical Office of Law and the International Confederation of Wizards, British Seats.'</s> | they clattered upwards again the memos flapped around the lamp swaying from the lift's ceiling. 'Level Five, Department of International Magical Co-operation, incorporating the International Magical Trading Standards Body, the International Magical Office of Law and the International Confederation of Wizards, British Seats.'</s> |
<s> When the doors opened, two of the memos zoomed out with a few more of the witches and wizards, but several more memos zoomed in, so that the light from the lamp flickered and flashed overhead as they darted around it. 'Level Four, Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, incorporating Beast, Being and Spirit Divisions, Goblin Liaison Office and Pest Advisory Bureau. ''S'cuse,' said the wizard carrying the fire-breathing chicken and he left the lift pursued by a little flock of memos. The doors clanged shut yet again. The remaining memos continued to soar around the lamp as the lift juddered upwards again, then the doors opened and the voice made its announcement. Those are enchanted windows. Magical Maintenance decide what weather we'll get every day. We had two months of hurricanes last time they were angling for a pay rise... Just round here, Harry.'</s> | the doors opened, two of the memos zoomed out with a few more of the witches and wizards, but several more memos zoomed in, so that the light from the lamp flickered and flashed overhead as they darted around it. 'Level Four, Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, incorporating Beast, Being and Spirit Divisions, Goblin Liaison Office and Pest Advisory Bureau. ''S'cuse,' said the wizard carrying the fire-breathing chicken and he left the lift pursued by a little flock of memos. The doors clanged shut yet again. The remaining memos continued to soar around the lamp as the lift juddered upwards again, then the doors opened and the voice made its announcement. Those are enchanted windows. Magical Maintenance decide what weather we'll get every day. We had two months of hurricanes last time they were angling for a pay rise... Just round here, Harry.'</s> |
<s> They turned a corner, walked through a pair of heavy oak doors and emerged in a cluttered open area divided into cubicles, which was buzzing with talk and laughter. Memos were zooming in and out of cubicles like miniature rockets. A lopsided sign on the nearest cubicle read: Auror Headquarters. Harry looked surreptitiously through the doorways as they passed. The Aurors had covered their cubicle walls with everything From pictures of wanted wizards and photographs of their families, to posters of their favourite Quidditch teams and articles from the Daily Prophet. A scarlet-robed man with a ponytail longer than Bill's was sitting with his boots up on his desk, dictating a report to his quill. A little further along, a witch with a patch over one eye was talking over the top of her cubicle wall to Kingsley Shacklebolt. They followed Kingsley along the row and into the very last cubicle. Harry received a slight shock; blinking down at him from every direction was Sirius's face. Newspaper cuttings and old photographs - even the one of Sirius being best man at the Potters' wedding - 'papered the walls. The only Sirius-free space was a map of the world in which little red pins were glowing like jewels. 'I need as much information as possible on flying Muggle vehicles sighted in the last twelve months. 'And I'm afraid you'll have to wait for information on motorcycles; we're extremely busy at the moment.' He dropped his voice and said, 'If you can get away before seven, Molly's making meatballs.'</s> | turned a corner, walked through a pair of heavy oak doors and emerged in a cluttered open area divided into cubicles, which was buzzing with talk and laughter. Memos were zooming in and out of cubicles like miniature rockets. A lopsided sign on the nearest cubicle read: Auror Headquarters. Harry looked surreptitiously through the doorways as they passed. The Aurors had covered their cubicle walls with everything From pictures of wanted wizards and photographs of their families, to posters of their favourite Quidditch teams and articles from the Daily Prophet. A scarlet-robed man with a ponytail longer than Bill's was sitting with his boots up on his desk, dictating a report to his quill. A little further along, a witch with a patch over one eye was talking over the top of her cubicle wall to Kingsley Shacklebolt. They followed Kingsley along the row and into the very last cubicle. Harry received a slight shock; blinking down at him from every direction was Sirius's face. Newspaper cuttings and old photographs - even the one of Sirius being best man at the Potters' wedding - 'papered the walls. The only Sirius-free space was a map of the world in which little red pins were glowing like jewels. 'I need as much information as possible on flying Muggle vehicles sighted in the last twelve months. 'And I'm afraid you'll have to wait for information on motorcycles; we're extremely busy at the moment.' He dropped his voice and said, 'If you can get away before seven, Molly's making meatballs.'</s> |
<s> He beckoned to Harry and led him out of Kingsley's cubicle, through a second set of oak doors, into another passage, turned left, marched along another corridor, turned right into a dimly lit and distinctly shabby corridor, and finally reached a dead end, where a door on the left stood ajar, revealing a broom cupboard, and a door on the right bore a tarnished brass plaque reading: Misuse of Muggle Artefacts. Two desks had been crammed inside it and there was barely space to move around them because of all the overflowing filing cabinets lining the walls, on top of which were tottering piles of files. Harry noticed that Percy appeared to have walked out of it. 'We've asked, but they don't seem to think we need one. 'Ah,' he said, grinning, as he extracted a copy of a magazine entitled The Quibbler from its midst, 'yes...' He flicked through it. 'Yes, he's right, I'm sure Sirius will find that very amusing - oh dear, what's this now?'</s> | beckoned to Harry and led him out of Kingsley's cubicle, through a second set of oak doors, into another passage, turned left, marched along another corridor, turned right into a dimly lit and distinctly shabby corridor, and finally reached a dead end, where a door on the left stood ajar, revealing a broom cupboard, and a door on the right bore a tarnished brass plaque reading: Misuse of Muggle Artefacts. Two desks had been crammed inside it and there was barely space to move around them because of all the overflowing filing cabinets lining the walls, on top of which were tottering piles of files. Harry noticed that Percy appeared to have walked out of it. 'We've asked, but they don't seem to think we need one. 'Ah,' he said, grinning, as he extracted a copy of a magazine entitled The Quibbler from its midst, 'yes...' He flicked through it. 'Yes, he's right, I'm sure Sirius will find that very amusing - oh dear, what's this now?'</s> |
<s> A memo had just zoomed in through the open door and fluttered to rest on top of the hiccoughing toaster. "Third regurgitating public toilet reported in Bethnal Green, kindly investigate immediately." This is getting ridiculous.. 'We had two last week, one in Wimbledon, one in Elephant and Castle. Muggles are pulling the flush and instead of everything disappearing - well, you can imagine. The poor things keep calling in those - pumbles, I think they're called - you know, the ones who mend pipes and things.'</s> | memo had just zoomed in through the open door and fluttered to rest on top of the hiccoughing toaster. "Third regurgitating public toilet reported in Bethnal Green, kindly investigate immediately." This is getting ridiculous.. 'We had two last week, one in Wimbledon, one in Elephant and Castle. Muggles are pulling the flush and instead of everything disappearing - well, you can imagine. The poor things keep calling in those - pumbles, I think they're called - you know, the ones who mend pipes and things.'</s> |
<s> 'Plumbers?'</s> | Plumbers?'</s> |
<s> 'Exactly, yes, but of course they're flummoxed, f only hope we can catch whoever's doing it.'</s> | Exactly, yes, but of course they're flummoxed, f only hope we can catch whoever's doing it.'</s> |
<s> 'Will it be Aurors who catch them?'</s> | Will it be Aurors who catch them?'</s> |
<s> 'Oh no, this is too trivial for Aurors, it'll be the ordinary Magical Law Enforcement Patrol - ah, Harry, this is Perkins.'</s> | Oh no, this is too trivial for Aurors, it'll be the ordinary Magical Law Enforcement Patrol - ah, Harry, this is Perkins.'</s> |
<s> A stooped, timid-looking old wizard with fluffy white hair had just entered the room, panting. 'Oh, Arthur!' he said desperately, without looking at Harry. Thank goodness, I didn't know what to do for the best, whether to wait here for you or not. 'Why have they changed the time?' Harry said breathlessly, as they hurtled past the Auror cubicles; people poked out their heads and stared as they streaked past. Harry felt as though he'd felt all his insides back at Perkins's desk. 'Come ON!'</s> | stooped, timid-looking old wizard with fluffy white hair had just entered the room, panting. 'Oh, Arthur!' he said desperately, without looking at Harry. Thank goodness, I didn't know what to do for the best, whether to wait here for you or not. 'Why have they changed the time?' Harry said breathlessly, as they hurtled past the Auror cubicles; people poked out their heads and stared as they streaked past. Harry felt as though he'd felt all his insides back at Perkins's desk. 'Come ON!'</s> |
<s> The lift clattered into view and they hurried inside. 'The Atrium,' said the cool female voice and the golden grilles slid open, showing Harry a distant glimpse of the golden statues in the fountain. The plump witch got out and a sallow-skinned wizard with a very mournful face got in. 'Morning, Arthur,' he said in a sepulchral voice as the lift began to descend. 'Ah, yes,' said Bode, surveying Harry unblinkingly. 'Of course.'</s> | lift clattered into view and they hurried inside. 'The Atrium,' said the cool female voice and the golden grilles slid open, showing Harry a distant glimpse of the golden statues in the fountain. The plump witch got out and a sallow-skinned wizard with a very mournful face got in. 'Morning, Arthur,' he said in a sepulchral voice as the lift began to descend. 'Ah, yes,' said Bode, surveying Harry unblinkingly. 'Of course.'</s> |
<s> Harry barely had emotion to spare for Bode, but his unfaltering gaze did not make him feel any more comfortable. 'Department of Mysteries,' said the cool female voice, and left it at that. The walls were bare; there were no windows and no doors apart from a plain black one set at the very end of the corridor. The lift doesn't even come down this far... why they're doing it down there I,..'</s> | barely had emotion to spare for Bode, but his unfaltering gaze did not make him feel any more comfortable. 'Department of Mysteries,' said the cool female voice, and left it at that. The walls were bare; there were no windows and no doors apart from a plain black one set at the very end of the corridor. The lift doesn't even come down this far... why they're doing it down there I,..'</s> |
<s> They reached the bottom of the steps and ran along yet another corridor, which bore a great resemblance to the one that led to Snape's dungeon at Hogwarts, with rough stone walls and torches in brackets. The doors they passed here were heavy wooden ones with iron bolts and keyholes. 'Courtroom... Ten... I think... we're nearly... 'Go on,' he panted, pointing his thumb at the door. 'Get in there.'</s> | reached the bottom of the steps and ran along yet another corridor, which bore a great resemblance to the one that led to Snape's dungeon at Hogwarts, with rough stone walls and torches in brackets. The doors they passed here were heavy wooden ones with iron bolts and keyholes. 'Courtroom... Ten... I think... we're nearly... 'Go on,' he panted, pointing his thumb at the door. 'Get in there.'</s> |
<s> 'Aren't - aren't you coming with -?'</s> | Aren't - aren't you coming with -?'</s> |
<s> 'No, no, I'm not allowed. Good luck!'</s> | No, no, I'm not allowed. Good luck!'</s> |
<s> The Hearing</s> | Hearing</s> |
<s> Harry gasped; he could not help himself. The large dungeon he had entered was horribly familiar. He had not only seen it before, he had been here before. This was the place he had visited inside Dumbledore's Pensieve, the place where he had watched the Lestranges sentenced to life imprisonment in Azkaban. The walls were made of dark stone, dimly lit by torches. Empty benches rose on either side of him, but ahead, in the highest benches of all, were many shadowy figures. They had been talking in low voices, but as the heavy door swung closed behind Harry an ominous silence fell. A cold male voice rang across the courtroom. 'You're late.'</s> | gasped; he could not help himself. The large dungeon he had entered was horribly familiar. He had not only seen it before, he had been here before. This was the place he had visited inside Dumbledore's Pensieve, the place where he had watched the Lestranges sentenced to life imprisonment in Azkaban. The walls were made of dark stone, dimly lit by torches. Empty benches rose on either side of him, but ahead, in the highest benches of all, were many shadowy figures. They had been talking in low voices, but as the heavy door swung closed behind Harry an ominous silence fell. A cold male voice rang across the courtroom. 'You're late.'</s> |
<s> 'Sorry,' said Harry nervously. 'I - I didn't know the time had been changed.'</s> | Sorry,' said Harry nervously. 'I - I didn't know the time had been changed.'</s> |
<s> 'That is not the Wizengamot's fault,' said the voice. 'An owl was sent to you this morning. Take your seat.'</s> | That is not the Wizengamot's fault,' said the voice. 'An owl was sent to you this morning. Take your seat.'</s> |
<s> Harry dropped his gaze to the chair in the centre of the room, the arms of which were covered in chains. He had seen those chains spring to life and bind whoever sat between them. His footsteps echoed loudly as he walked across the stone floor. When he sat gingerly on the edge of the chair the chains clinked threateningly, but did not bind him. Feeling rather sick, he looked up at the people seated at the bench above. There were about fifty of them, all, as far as he could see, wearing plum-coloured robes with an elaborately worked silver 'W' on the left-hand side of the chest and all staring down their noses at him, some with very austere expressions, others looks of frank curiosity. In the very middle of the front row sat Cornelius Fudge, the Minister for Magic. Fudge was a portly man who often sported a lime-green bowler hat, though today he had dispensed with it; he had dispensed, too, with the indulgent smile he had once worn when he spoke to Harry. A broad, square-jawed witch with very short grey hair sat on Fudges left; she wore a monocle and looked forbidding. On Fudges right was another witch, but she was sitting so far back on the bench that her face was in shadow. 'Very well,' said Fudge. 'The accused being present - finally - let us begin. Are you ready?' he called down the row. 'Yes, sir,' said an eager voice Harry knew. Harry looked at Percy, expecting some sign of recognition from him, but none came. Percy's eyes, behind his horn-rimmed glasses, were fixed on his parchment, a quill poised in his hand. 'Disciplinary hearing of the twelfth of August,' said Fudge in a ringing voice, and Percy began taking notes at once, 'into offences committed under the Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery and the International Statute of Secrecy by Harry-James Potter, resident at number four, Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey. 'Interrogators: Cornelius Oswald Fudge, Minister</s> | dropped his gaze to the chair in the centre of the room, the arms of which were covered in chains. He had seen those chains spring to life and bind whoever sat between them. His footsteps echoed loudly as he walked across the stone floor. When he sat gingerly on the edge of the chair the chains clinked threateningly, but did not bind him. Feeling rather sick, he looked up at the people seated at the bench above. There were about fifty of them, all, as far as he could see, wearing plum-coloured robes with an elaborately worked silver 'W' on the left-hand side of the chest and all staring down their noses at him, some with very austere expressions, others looks of frank curiosity. In the very middle of the front row sat Cornelius Fudge, the Minister for Magic. Fudge was a portly man who often sported a lime-green bowler hat, though today he had dispensed with it; he had dispensed, too, with the indulgent smile he had once worn when he spoke to Harry. A broad, square-jawed witch with very short grey hair sat on Fudges left; she wore a monocle and looked forbidding. On Fudges right was another witch, but she was sitting so far back on the bench that her face was in shadow. 'Very well,' said Fudge. 'The accused being present - finally - let us begin. Are you ready?' he called down the row. 'Yes, sir,' said an eager voice Harry knew. Harry looked at Percy, expecting some sign of recognition from him, but none came. Percy's eyes, behind his horn-rimmed glasses, were fixed on his parchment, a quill poised in his hand. 'Disciplinary hearing of the twelfth of August,' said Fudge in a ringing voice, and Percy began taking notes at once, 'into offences committed under the Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery and the International Statute of Secrecy by Harry-James Potter, resident at number four, Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey. 'Interrogators: Cornelius Oswald Fudge, Minister</s> |
<s> Magic; Amelia Susan Bones, Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement; Dolores Jane Umbridge, Senior Undersecretary to the Minister. Dumbledore was striding serenely across the room wearing long midnight-blue robes and a perfectly calm expression. His long silver beard and hair gleamed in the torchlight as he drew level with Harry and looked up at Fudge through the half-moon spectacles that rested halfway down his very crooked nose. The members of the Wizengamot were muttering. All eyes were now on Dumbledore. Some looked annoyed, others slightly frightened; two elderly witches in the back row, however, raised their hands and waved in welcome. A powerful emotion had risen in Harry's chest at the sight of Dumbledore, a fortified, hopeful feeling rather like that which phoenix song gave him. He wanted to catch Dumbledore's eye, but Dumbledore was not looking his way; he was continuing to look up at the obviously flustered Fudge. 'Ah,' said Fudge, who looked thoroughly disconcerted. 'Dumbledore. Yes. You - er - got our - er - message that the time and - er - place of the hearing had been changed, then?'</s> | ; Amelia Susan Bones, Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement; Dolores Jane Umbridge, Senior Undersecretary to the Minister. Dumbledore was striding serenely across the room wearing long midnight-blue robes and a perfectly calm expression. His long silver beard and hair gleamed in the torchlight as he drew level with Harry and looked up at Fudge through the half-moon spectacles that rested halfway down his very crooked nose. The members of the Wizengamot were muttering. All eyes were now on Dumbledore. Some looked annoyed, others slightly frightened; two elderly witches in the back row, however, raised their hands and waved in welcome. A powerful emotion had risen in Harry's chest at the sight of Dumbledore, a fortified, hopeful feeling rather like that which phoenix song gave him. He wanted to catch Dumbledore's eye, but Dumbledore was not looking his way; he was continuing to look up at the obviously flustered Fudge. 'Ah,' said Fudge, who looked thoroughly disconcerted. 'Dumbledore. Yes. You - er - got our - er - message that the time and - er - place of the hearing had been changed, then?'</s> |
<s> 'I must have missed it,' said Dumbledore cheerfully. Dumbledore sat down, out the tips of his long fingers together and surveyed Fudge over them with an expression of polite interest. The Wizengamot was still muttering and fidgeting restlessly; only when Fudge spoke again did they settle down. 'Yes,' said Fudge again, shuffling his notes. 'Well, then. So. The charges. Yes.'</s> | I must have missed it,' said Dumbledore cheerfully. Dumbledore sat down, out the tips of his long fingers together and surveyed Fudge over them with an expression of polite interest. The Wizengamot was still muttering and fidgeting restlessly; only when Fudge spoke again did they settle down. 'Yes,' said Fudge again, shuffling his notes. 'Well, then. So. The charges. Yes.'</s> |
<s> He extricated a piece of parchment from the pile before him, took a deep breath, and read out, The charges against the accused are as follows:</s> | extricated a piece of parchment from the pile before him, took a deep breath, and read out, The charges against the accused are as follows:</s> |
<s> That he did knowingly, deliberately and in full awareness of the illegality of his actions, having received a previous written warning from the Ministry of Magic on a similar charge, produce a Patronus Charm in a Muggle-inhabited area, in the presence of a Muggle, on the second of August at twenty-three minutes past nine, which constitutes an offence under Paragraph C of the Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery, 1875, and also under Section 13 of the International Confederation of Warlocks' Statute of Secrecy. 'You are Harry James Potter, of number four, Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey?' Fudge said, glaring at Harry over the top of his parchment. 'Yes,' Harry said. 'You received an official warning from the Ministry for using illegal magic three years ago, did you not?'</s> | he did knowingly, deliberately and in full awareness of the illegality of his actions, having received a previous written warning from the Ministry of Magic on a similar charge, produce a Patronus Charm in a Muggle-inhabited area, in the presence of a Muggle, on the second of August at twenty-three minutes past nine, which constitutes an offence under Paragraph C of the Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery, 1875, and also under Section 13 of the International Confederation of Warlocks' Statute of Secrecy. 'You are Harry James Potter, of number four, Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey?' Fudge said, glaring at Harry over the top of his parchment. 'Yes,' Harry said. 'You received an official warning from the Ministry for using illegal magic three years ago, did you not?'</s> |
<s> 'Yes, but - '</s> | Yes, but - '</s> |
<s> 'And yet you conjured a Patronus on the night of the second of August?' said Fudge. 'Yes,' said Harry, 'but - '</s> | And yet you conjured a Patronus on the night of the second of August?' said Fudge. 'Yes,' said Harry, 'but - '</s> |
<s> 'Knowing that you are not permitted to use magic outside school while you are under the age of seventeen?'</s> | Knowing that you are not permitted to use magic outside school while you are under the age of seventeen?'</s> |
<s> 'Yes, but - '</s> | Yes, but - '</s> |
<s> 'Knowing that you were in an area full of Muggles?'</s> | Knowing that you were in an area full of Muggles?'</s> |
<s> 'Yes, but - '</s> | Yes, but - '</s> |
<s> 'Fully aware that you were in close proximity to a Muggle at the time?'</s> | Fully aware that you were in close proximity to a Muggle at the time?'</s> |
<s> 'Yes,' said Harry angrily, 'but I only used it because we were - '</s> | Yes,' said Harry angrily, 'but I only used it because we were - '</s> |
<s> The witch with the monocle cut across him in a booming voice. 'You produced a fully-fledged Patronus?'</s> | witch with the monocle cut across him in a booming voice. 'You produced a fully-fledged Patronus?'</s> |
<s> 'Yes,' said Harry, 'because - '</s> | Yes,' said Harry, 'because - '</s> |
<s> 'A corporeal Patronus?'</s> | A corporeal Patronus?'</s> |
<s> 'A - what?' said Harry. 'Your Patronus had a clearly defined form? I mean to say, it was more than vapour or smoke?'</s> | A - what?' said Harry. 'Your Patronus had a clearly defined form? I mean to say, it was more than vapour or smoke?'</s> |
<s> 'Yes,' said Harry, feeling both impatient and slightly desperate, 'it's a stag, it's always a stag.'</s> | Yes,' said Harry, feeling both impatient and slightly desperate, 'it's a stag, it's always a stag.'</s> |
<s> 'Always?' boomed Madam Bones. 'You have produced a Patronus before now?'</s> | Always?' boomed Madam Bones. 'You have produced a Patronus before now?'</s> |
<s> 'Yes,' said Harry, 'I've been doing it for over a year.'</s> | Yes,' said Harry, 'I've been doing it for over a year.'</s> |
<s> 'And you are fifteen years old?'</s> | And you are fifteen years old?'</s> |
<s> 'Yes, and - '</s> | Yes, and - '</s> |
<s> 'You learned this at school?'</s> | You learned this at school?'</s> |
<s> 'Yes, Professor Lupin taught me in my third year, because of the - '</s> | Yes, Professor Lupin taught me in my third year, because of the - '</s> |
<s> 'Impressive,' said Madam Bones, staring down at him, 'a true Patronus at his age... very impressive indeed.'</s> | Impressive,' said Madam Bones, staring down at him, 'a true Patronus at his age... very impressive indeed.'</s> |
<s> Some of the wizards and witches around her were muttering again; a few nodded, but others were frowning and shaking their heads. 'It's not a question of how impressive the magic was,' said Fudge in a testy voice, 'in fact, the more impressive the worse it is, I would have thought, given that the boy did it in plain view of a Muggle!'</s> | of the wizards and witches around her were muttering again; a few nodded, but others were frowning and shaking their heads. 'It's not a question of how impressive the magic was,' said Fudge in a testy voice, 'in fact, the more impressive the worse it is, I would have thought, given that the boy did it in plain view of a Muggle!'</s> |
<s> Those who had been frowning now murmured in agreement, but it was the sight of Percy's sanctimonious little nod that goaded Harry into speech. 'I did it because of the Dementors!' he said loudly, before anyone could interrupt him again. He had expected more muttering, but the silence that fell seemed to be somehow denser than before. 'Dementors?' said Madam Bones after a moment, her thick eyebrows rising until her monocle looked in danger of falling out. 'What do you mean, boy?'</s> | who had been frowning now murmured in agreement, but it was the sight of Percy's sanctimonious little nod that goaded Harry into speech. 'I did it because of the Dementors!' he said loudly, before anyone could interrupt him again. He had expected more muttering, but the silence that fell seemed to be somehow denser than before. 'Dementors?' said Madam Bones after a moment, her thick eyebrows rising until her monocle looked in danger of falling out. 'What do you mean, boy?'</s> |
<s> 'I mean there were two Dementors down that alleyway and they went for me and my cousin!'</s> | I mean there were two Dementors down that alleyway and they went for me and my cousin!'</s> |
<s> 'Ah,' said Fudge again, smirking unpleasantly as he looked around at the Wizengamot, as though inviting them to share the joke. 'Yes. Yes, I thought we'd be hearing something like this.'</s> | Ah,' said Fudge again, smirking unpleasantly as he looked around at the Wizengamot, as though inviting them to share the joke. 'Yes. Yes, I thought we'd be hearing something like this.'</s> |
<s> 'Dementors in Little Whinging?' Madam Bones said, in a tone of great surprise. 'I don't understand - '</s> | Dementors in Little Whinging?' Madam Bones said, in a tone of great surprise. 'I don't understand - '</s> |
<s> 'Don't you, Amelia?' said Fudge, still smirking. 'Let me explain. He's been thinking it through and decided Dementors would make a very nice little cover story very nice indeed. Muggles can't see Dementors, can they, boy? Highly convenient, highly convenient... so it's just your word and no witnesses...'</s> | Don't you, Amelia?' said Fudge, still smirking. 'Let me explain. He's been thinking it through and decided Dementors would make a very nice little cover story very nice indeed. Muggles can't see Dementors, can they, boy? Highly convenient, highly convenient... so it's just your word and no witnesses...'</s> |
<s> 'I'm not lying!' said Harry loudly, over another outbreak of muttering from the court. There were two of them, coming from opposite ends of the alley everything went dark and cold and my cousin felt them and ran for it - '</s> | I'm not lying!' said Harry loudly, over another outbreak of muttering from the court. There were two of them, coming from opposite ends of the alley everything went dark and cold and my cousin felt them and ran for it - '</s> |
<s> 'Enough, enough!' said Fudge, with a very supercilious look on his face. 'I'm sorry to interrupt what I'm sure would have been a very well-rehearsed story - '</s> | Enough, enough!' said Fudge, with a very supercilious look on his face. 'I'm sorry to interrupt what I'm sure would have been a very well-rehearsed story - '</s> |
<s> Dumbledore cleared his throat. The Wizengamot fell silent again. 'We do, in fact, have a witness to the presence of Dementors in that alleyway,' he said, 'other than Dudley Dursley, I mean.'</s> | umbledore cleared his throat. The Wizengamot fell silent again. 'We do, in fact, have a witness to the presence of Dementors in that alleyway,' he said, 'other than Dudley Dursley, I mean.'</s> |
<s> Fudges plump face seemed to slacken, as though somebody had let air out of it. He stared down at Dumbledore for a moment or two, then, with the appearance of a man pulling himself back together, said, 'We haven't got time to listen to more tarradiddles, I'm afraid, Dumbledore. I want this dealt with quickly - '</s> | udges plump face seemed to slacken, as though somebody had let air out of it. He stared down at Dumbledore for a moment or two, then, with the appearance of a man pulling himself back together, said, 'We haven't got time to listen to more tarradiddles, I'm afraid, Dumbledore. I want this dealt with quickly - '</s> |
<s> 'I may be wrong,' said Dumbledore pleasantly, 'but I am sure that under the Wizengamot Charter of Rights, the accused has the right to present witnesses for his or her case? Isn't that the policy of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, Madam Bones?' he continued, addressing the witch in the monocle. 'True,' said Madam Bones. 'Perfectly true.'</s> | I may be wrong,' said Dumbledore pleasantly, 'but I am sure that under the Wizengamot Charter of Rights, the accused has the right to present witnesses for his or her case? Isn't that the policy of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, Madam Bones?' he continued, addressing the witch in the monocle. 'True,' said Madam Bones. 'Perfectly true.'</s> |
<s> 'Oh, very well, very well,' snapped Fudge. 'Where is this person?'</s> | Oh, very well, very well,' snapped Fudge. 'Where is this person?'</s> |
<s> 'I brought her with me,' said Dumbledore. 'She's just outside the door. A moment later, Percy returned, followed by Mrs Figg. She looked scared and more batty than ever. Harry wished she had thought to change out of her carpet slippers. Dumbledore stood up and gave Mrs Figg his chair, conjuring a second one for himself. 'Full name?' said Fudge loudly, when Mrs Figg had perched herself nervously on the very edge of her seat. 'Arabella Doreen Figg,' said Mrs Figg in her quavery voice. 'And who exactly are you?' said Fudge, in a bored and lofty voice</s> | I brought her with me,' said Dumbledore. 'She's just outside the door. A moment later, Percy returned, followed by Mrs Figg. She looked scared and more batty than ever. Harry wished she had thought to change out of her carpet slippers. Dumbledore stood up and gave Mrs Figg his chair, conjuring a second one for himself. 'Full name?' said Fudge loudly, when Mrs Figg had perched herself nervously on the very edge of her seat. 'Arabella Doreen Figg,' said Mrs Figg in her quavery voice. 'And who exactly are you?' said Fudge, in a bored and lofty voice</s> |
<s> 'I'm a resident of Little Whinging, close to where Harry Potter lives,' said Mrs Figg. 'We have no record of any witch or wizard living in Little Whinging, other than Harry Potter,' said Madam Bones at once 'That situation has always been closely monitored, given... given past events.'</s> | I'm a resident of Little Whinging, close to where Harry Potter lives,' said Mrs Figg. 'We have no record of any witch or wizard living in Little Whinging, other than Harry Potter,' said Madam Bones at once 'That situation has always been closely monitored, given... given past events.'</s> |
<s> 'I'm a Squib,' said Mrs Figg. 'So you wouldn't have me registered, would you?'</s> | I'm a Squib,' said Mrs Figg. 'So you wouldn't have me registered, would you?'</s> |
<s> 'A Squib, eh?' said Fudge, eyeing her closely. 'We'll be checking that. Incidentally, can Squibs see Dementors?' he added, looking left and right along the bench. "Yes, we can!' said Mrs Figg indignantly. Fudge looked back down at her, his eyebrows raised. 'Very well,' he said aloofly. 'What is your story?'</s> | A Squib, eh?' said Fudge, eyeing her closely. 'We'll be checking that. Incidentally, can Squibs see Dementors?' he added, looking left and right along the bench. "Yes, we can!' said Mrs Figg indignantly. Fudge looked back down at her, his eyebrows raised. 'Very well,' he said aloofly. 'What is your story?'</s> |
<s> 'I had gone out to buy cat food from the corner shop at the end of Wisteria Walk, around about nine o'clock, on the evening of the second of August,' gabbled Mrs Figg at once, as though she had learned what she was saying by heart, 'when I heard a disturbance down the alleyway between Magnolia Crescent and Wisteria Walk. On approaching the mouth of the alleyway I saw Dementors running - '</s> | I had gone out to buy cat food from the corner shop at the end of Wisteria Walk, around about nine o'clock, on the evening of the second of August,' gabbled Mrs Figg at once, as though she had learned what she was saying by heart, 'when I heard a disturbance down the alleyway between Magnolia Crescent and Wisteria Walk. On approaching the mouth of the alleyway I saw Dementors running - '</s> |
<s> 'Running?' said Madam Bones sharply. 'Dementors don't run, they glide.'</s> | Running?' said Madam Bones sharply. 'Dementors don't run, they glide.'</s> |
<s> 'That's what I meant to say,' said Mrs Figg quickly, patches of pink appearing in her withered cheeks. 'Gliding along the alley towards what looked like two boys.'</s> | That's what I meant to say,' said Mrs Figg quickly, patches of pink appearing in her withered cheeks. 'Gliding along the alley towards what looked like two boys.'</s> |
<s> 'What did they look like?' said Madam Bones, narrowing her eyes so that the edge of the monocle disappeared into her flesh. 'Well, one was very large and the other one rather skinny - '</s> | What did they look like?' said Madam Bones, narrowing her eyes so that the edge of the monocle disappeared into her flesh. 'Well, one was very large and the other one rather skinny - '</s> |
<s> 'No, no,' said Madam Bones impatiently. 'The Dementors... describe them.'</s> | No, no,' said Madam Bones impatiently. 'The Dementors... describe them.'</s> |
<s> 'Oh,' said Mrs Figg, the pink flush creeping up her neck now. They were big. Big and wearing cloaks. Harry felt a horrible sinking in the pit of his stomach. Whatever Mrs Figg might say, it sounded to him as though the most she had ever seen was a picture of a Dementor, and a picture could never convey the truth of what these beings were like: the eerie way they moved, hovering inches over the ground; or the rotting smell of them; or that terrible rattling noise they made as they sucked on the surrounding air... In the second row, a dumpy wizard with a large black moustache leaned close to whisper in the ear of his neighbour, a frizzy-haired witch. She smirked and nodded. 'Big and wearing cloaks,' repeated Madam Bones coolly, while Fudge snorted derisively. 'I see. Anything else?'</s> | Oh,' said Mrs Figg, the pink flush creeping up her neck now. They were big. Big and wearing cloaks. Harry felt a horrible sinking in the pit of his stomach. Whatever Mrs Figg might say, it sounded to him as though the most she had ever seen was a picture of a Dementor, and a picture could never convey the truth of what these beings were like: the eerie way they moved, hovering inches over the ground; or the rotting smell of them; or that terrible rattling noise they made as they sucked on the surrounding air... In the second row, a dumpy wizard with a large black moustache leaned close to whisper in the ear of his neighbour, a frizzy-haired witch. She smirked and nodded. 'Big and wearing cloaks,' repeated Madam Bones coolly, while Fudge snorted derisively. 'I see. Anything else?'</s> |
<s> 'Yes,' said Mrs Figg. 'I felt them. Everything went cold, and this was a very warm summer's night, mark you. And I felt... as though all happiness had gone from the world... and I remembered... dreadful things...'</s> | Yes,' said Mrs Figg. 'I felt them. Everything went cold, and this was a very warm summer's night, mark you. And I felt... as though all happiness had gone from the world... and I remembered... dreadful things...'</s> |
<s> Her voice shook and died. Madam Bones's eyes widened slightly. Harry could see red marks under her eyebrow where the monocle had dug into it. 'What did the Dementors do?' she asked, and Harry felt a rush of hope. They went for the boys,' said Mrs Figg, her voice stronger and more confident now, the pink flush ebbing away from her face. 'One of them had fallen. The other was backing away, trying to repel the Dementor. That was Harry. He tried twice and produced only silver vapour. On the third attempt, he produced a Patronus, which charged down the first Dementor and then, with his encouragement, chased the second one away from his cousin. And that... that is what happened,' Mrs Figg finished, somewhat lamely. Madam Bones looked down at Mrs Figg in silence. Fudge was not looking at her at all, but fidgeting with his papers. Finally, he raised his eyes and said, rather aggressively, That's what you saw, is it?'</s> | voice shook and died. Madam Bones's eyes widened slightly. Harry could see red marks under her eyebrow where the monocle had dug into it. 'What did the Dementors do?' she asked, and Harry felt a rush of hope. They went for the boys,' said Mrs Figg, her voice stronger and more confident now, the pink flush ebbing away from her face. 'One of them had fallen. The other was backing away, trying to repel the Dementor. That was Harry. He tried twice and produced only silver vapour. On the third attempt, he produced a Patronus, which charged down the first Dementor and then, with his encouragement, chased the second one away from his cousin. And that... that is what happened,' Mrs Figg finished, somewhat lamely. Madam Bones looked down at Mrs Figg in silence. Fudge was not looking at her at all, but fidgeting with his papers. Finally, he raised his eyes and said, rather aggressively, That's what you saw, is it?'</s> |
<s> That is what happened,' Mrs Figg repeated. 'Very well,' said Fudge. 'You may go.'</s> | is what happened,' Mrs Figg repeated. 'Very well,' said Fudge. 'You may go.'</s> |
<s> Mrs Figg cast a frightened look from Fudge to Dumbledore, then got up and shuffled off towards the door. Harry heard it thud shut behind her. 'Not a very convincing witness,' said Fudge loftily. 'Oh, I don't know,' said Madam Bones, in her booming voice. 'She certainly described the effects of a Dementor attack very accurately. And I can't imagine why she would say they were there if they weren't.'</s> | Figg cast a frightened look from Fudge to Dumbledore, then got up and shuffled off towards the door. Harry heard it thud shut behind her. 'Not a very convincing witness,' said Fudge loftily. 'Oh, I don't know,' said Madam Bones, in her booming voice. 'She certainly described the effects of a Dementor attack very accurately. And I can't imagine why she would say they were there if they weren't.'</s> |
<s> 'But Dementors wandering into a Muggle suburb and just happening to come across a wizard?' snorted Fudge. The odds on that must be very, very long. Even Bagman wouldn't have bet - '</s> | But Dementors wandering into a Muggle suburb and just happening to come across a wizard?' snorted Fudge. The odds on that must be very, very long. Even Bagman wouldn't have bet - '</s> |