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96[@more@]“I think you’re feeling a bit of a daredevil,” Harry said, “You fancy stepping into Sirius’s shoes –” “Harry, no!” Hermione begged him, but he continued to glare into Lupin’s livid face. “I’d never have believed this,” Harry said. “The man who taught me to fight dementors – a coward.” Lupin drew his wand so fast that Harry had barely reached for his own; there was a loud bang and he felt himself flying backward as if punched; as he slammed into the kitchen wall

95[@more@]you accept my offer? Will three become four? I cannot believe that Dumbledore would have disapproved, he appointed me your Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, after all. And I must tell you that I believe we are facing magic many of us have never encountered or imagined.” Ron and Hermione both looked at Harry. “Just – just to be clear,” he said. “You want to leave Tonks at her parents’ house and come away with us?” “She’ll be perfectly safe there, they’ll look after

94[@more@]What’s Voldemort planning for Hogwarts?” she asked Lupin. “Attendance is now compulsory for every young witch and wizard,” he replied. “That was announced yesterday. It’s a change, because it was never obligatory before. Of course, nearly every witch and wizard in Britain has been educated at Hogwarts, but their parents had the right to teach them at home or send them abroad if they preferred. This way, Voldemort will have the whole Wizarding population under his eye from a

93[@more@]Lupin laughed. “He doesn’t need to, Ron. Effectively, he is the Minister, but why should he sit behind a desk at the Ministry? His puppet, Thicknesse, is taking care of everyday business, leaving Voldemort free to extend his power beyond the Ministry. “Naturally many people have deduced what has happened: There has been such a dramatic change in Ministry policy in the last few days, and many are whispering that Voldemort must be behind it. However, that is the point: They whis

92[@more@]“Were they Death Eaters or Ministry people?” interjected Hermione. “A mixture; but to all intents and purposes they’re the same thing now,” said Lupin. “There were about a dozen of them, but they didn’t know you were there, Harry. Arthur heard a rumor that they tried to torture your whereabouts out of Scrimgeour before they killed him; if it’s true, he didn’t give you away.” Harry looked at Ron and Hermione; their expressions reflected the mingled shock and gratitude he

91[@more@]“Oh, thank goodness,” said Hermione weakly, pointing her wand at Mrs. Black instead; with a bang, the curtains swished shut again and silence fell. Ron too lowered his wand, but Harry did not. “Show yourself!” he called back. Lupin moved forward into the lamplight, hands still held high in a gesture of surrender. “I am Remus John Lupin, werewolf, sometimes known as Moony, one of the four creators of the Marauder’s Map, married to Nymphadora, usually known as Tonks, and I

90[@more@]into the night, gazing in the direction of the house that they could not see. “Death Eaters, for sure,” said Ron, as he, Harry, and Hermione watched from the drawing room windows. “Reckon they know we’re in here?” “I don’t think so,” said Hermione, though she looked frightened, “or they’d have sent Snape in after us, wouldn’t they?” “D’you reckon he’s been in here and has his tongue tied by Moody’s curse?” asked Ron. “Yes,” said Hermione, “otherwise he’d hav

89[@more@]know it’s true. Kreacher had been alone for such a long time when Sirius came to live here, and he was probably starving for a bit of affection. I’m sure ‘Miss Cissy’ and ‘Miss Bella’ were perfectly lovely to Kreacher when he turned up, so he did them a favor and told them everything they wanted to know. I’ve said all along that wizards would pay for how they treat house-elves. Well, Voldemort did … and so did Sirius.” Harry had no retort. As he watched Kreacher sobbing

88[@more@]Kreacher to take it and, when the basin was empty, to switch the lockets …” Kreacher’s sobs came in great rasps now; Harry had to concentrate hard to understand him. “And he order – Kreacher to leave – without him. And he told Kreacher – to go home – and never to tell my Mistress – what he had done – but to destroy – the first locket. And he drank – all the potion – and Kreacher swapped the lockets – and watched … as Master Regulus … was dragged beneath the wate

87[@more@]“And then the Dark Lord sailed away, leaving Kreacher on the island … “ Harry could see it happening. He watched Voldemort’s white, snakelike face vanishing into darkness, those red eyes fixed pitilessly on the thrashing elf whose death would occur within minutes, whenever he succumbed to the desperate thirst that the burning poison caused its victim … But here, Harry’s imagination could go no further, for he could not see how Kreacher had escaped. “Kreacher needed water

86[@more@]tears gushing from his sagging eyes. “Harry, let him up!” Hermione whispered. “So he can beat himself up with the poker?” snorted Harry, kneeling beside the elf. “I don’t think so. Right. Kreacher, I want the truth: How do you know Mundungus Fletcher stole the locket?” “Kreacher saw him!” gasped the elf as tears poured over his snout and into his mouth full of graying teeth. “Kreacher saw him coming out of Kreacher’s cupboard with his hands full of Kreacher’s trea

85[@more@]basement kitchen and slammed the door behind them. Harry ran the length of the room, skidded to a halt at the door of Kreacher’s cupboard, and wrenched it open. There was the nest of dirty old blankets in which the house-elf had once slept, but they were not longer glittering with the trinkets Kreacher had salvaged. The only thing there was an old copy of Nature’s Nobility: A Wizarding Genealogy. Refusing to believe his eyes, Harry snatched up the blankets and shook them. A dead

84[@more@]“He’s sitting in the middle of the front row, that’s where the Seeker … Never mind,” said Harry, realizing that nobody was listening. Ron was on his hands and knees, searching under the wardrobe. Harry looked around the room for likely hiding places and approached the desk. Yet again, somebody had searched before them. The drawers’ contents had been turned over recently, the dust disturbed, but there was nothing of value there: old quills, out-of-date textbooks that bore evi

83[@more@]have stuck on his bedroom door. Do Not Enter Without the Express Permission of Regulus Arcturus Black Excitement trickled through Harry, but he was not immediately sure why. He read the sign again. Hermione was already a flight of stairs below him. “Hermione,” he said, and he was surprised that his voice was so calm. “Come back up here.” “What’s the matter?” “R.A.B. I think I’ve found him.” There was a gasp, and then Hermione ran back up the stairs. “In your

82[@more@]“And there’s this too” He handed her the torn photograph, and Hermione smiled at the baby zooming in and out of sight on the toy broom. “I’ve been looking for the rest of the letter,” Harry said, “but it’s not here.” Hermione glanced around. “Did you make all this mess, or was some of it done when you got here?” “Someone had searched before me,” said Harry. “I thought so. Every room I looked into on the way up had been disturbed. What were they after, do you think

81[@more@]moved across this parchment, tracing ink into these letters, these words, words about him, Harry, her son. Impatiently brushing away the wetness in his eyes, he reread the letter, this time concentrating on the meaning. It was like listening to a half-remembered voice. They had a cat… perhaps it had perished, like his parents at Godric’s Hollow… or else fled when there was nobody left to feed it… Sirius had bought him his first broomstick… His parents had known Bathilda Ba

80[@more@]was in contrast the only Wizarding photograph on the walls which was a picture of four Hogwarts students standing arm in arm, laughing at the camera. With a leap of pleasure, Harry recognized his father, his untidy black hair stuck up at the back like Harry’s, and he too wore glasses. Beside him was Sirius, carelessly handsome, his slightly arrogant face so much younger and happier than Harry had ever seen it alive. To Sirius’s right stood Pettigrew, more than a head shorter, p

79[@more@]curved to the floor, her fingers inches from Ron’s. Harry wondered whether they had fallen asleep holding hands. The idea made him feel strangely lonely. He looked up at the shadowy ceiling, the cobwebbed chandelier. Less than twenty-four house ago, he had been standing in the sunlight at the entrance to the marquee, waiting to show in wedding guests. It seemed a lifetime away. What was going to happen now? He lay on the floor and he thought of the Horcruxes, of the daunting co

78[@more@]though he were pressing against the window of the room, and still the pain in his scar was building and he fought it: It was like resisting the urge to be sick. He turned his back on Ron and Hermione, pretending to examine the old tapestry of the Black family tree on the wall. Then Hermione shrieked: Harry drew his wand again and spun around to see a silver Patronus soar through the drawing room window and land upon the floor in front of them, where it solidified into the weasel

77[@more@]“Mudbloods, filth, stains of dishonor, taint of shame on the house of my fathers –“ “SHUT UP!” Harry bellowed, directing his wand at her, and with a bang and a burst of red sparks, the curtains swung shut again, silencing her. “That . . . that was . . . “ Hermione whimpered, as Ron helped her to her feet. “Yeah,” said Harry, “but it wasn’t really him, was it? Just something to scare Snape.” Had it worked, Harry wondered, or had Snape already blasted the horror-figu