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"Yeah, I know, I saw in the Prophet that you'd looked . . . but this is something different. . . . Well, something more ..."
The whistle sounded, Harry and the others kicked off hard from the frozen ground, and they were away.
"But why would he do that?"
Chapter 17: A sluggish memory
Harry smiled back vaguely, but as he pulled on his scarlet robes his mind was far from Quidditch. Malfoy had once before claimed he could not play due to injury, but on that occasion he had made sure the whole match was rescheduled for a time that suited the Slytherins better. Why was he now happy to let a substitute go on? Was he really ill, or was he faking?
"Yeah, I am," said Harry. "Glad we straightened that out."
"I’m Morfin, ain't I?"
"No problem," said Harry, grinning. "Has it been busy at the Ministry?"
"Professor Snape, Harry."
"Yes. My father had offended him. I did not know, for a very long time, the identity of the werewolf who had attacked me; I even felt pity for him, thinking that he had had no control, know-ing by then how it felt to transform. But Greyback is not like that. At the full moon, he positions himself close to victims, ensuring that he is near enough to strike. He plans it all. And this is the man Voldemort is using to marshal the werewolves. I cannot pretend that my particular brand of reasoned argument is making much headway against Greyback's insistence that we werewolves deserve blood, that we ought to revenge ourselves on normal people." "But you are normal!" said Harry fiercely. "You've just got a — a
Harry frowned, trying to remember. "I'm not sure ... Snape definitely said 'your master,' and who else would that be?"
"I would've had Crabbe and Goyle with me if you hadn't put them in detention!"
"No, I'm not!" said Filch, a statement at complete odds with the glee on his face. "You're in trouble, you are! Didn't the headma ster say that nighttime prowling ' s out, unless you've got permission, didn't he, eh?"
"Harry's snogged Cho Chang!" shouted Ginny, who sounded close to tears now. "And Hermione snogged Viktor Krum, it's only you who acts like it's something disgusting, Ron, and that's because you've got about as much experience as a twelve-year-old!"
"Well, yes," said Hermione.
tudes, Harry brooded for the next few days over what to do next about Slughorn. He decided that, for the time being, he would let Slughorn think that he had forgotten all about Horcruxes; it was surely best to lull him into a false sense of security before returning to the attack.;
Harry spun around to see Hermione pointing her wand at Ron, her expression wild: The little flock of birds was speeding like a hail of fat golden bullets toward Ron, who yelped and covered his face with his hands, but the birds attacked, pecking and clawing at every bit of flesh they could reach.。