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Chapter 2
Aunt Marge's Big Mistake
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- Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban by J. Chapter 1 Owl Post. Harry Potter was a highly unusual boy in many ways. For one thing, he hated the summer holidays more than any other time of year. For another, he really wanted to do his homework but was forced to do it in secret, in the dead of night.
- Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban Pull-Out Poster Book-J. Rowling 2004-05 Each page in this book is perforated, so it can be pulled out and stuck up on the wall. Laugh when Harry makes Aunt Marge expand like a balloon, shiver at the Dementors, and cheer Harry on in his Quidditch matches against Hufflepuff.
Harry went down to breakfast the next morning to find the three Dursleys already sitting around the kitchen table. They were watching a brand-new television, a welcome- home-for- the-summer present for Dudley, who had been complaining loudly about the long walk between the fridge and the television in the living room. Dudley had spent most of the summer in the kitchen, his piggy little eyes fixed on the screen and his five chins wobbling as he ate continually.
Harry sat down between Dudley and Uncle Vernon, a large, beefy man with very little neck and a lot of mustache. Far from wishing Harry a happy birthday, none of the Dursleys made any sign that they had noticed Harry enter the room, but Harry was far too used to this to care. He helped himself to a piece of toast and then looked up at the reporter on the television, who was halfway through a report on an escaped convict:
'... The public is warned that Black is armed and extremely dangerous. A special hotline has been set up, and any sighting of Black should be reported immediately.'
'No need to tell us he's no good,' snorted Uncle Vernon, staring over the top of his newspaper at the prisoner. 'Look at the state of him, the filthy layabout! Look at his hair!'
He shot a nasty look sideways at Harry, whose untidy hair had always been a source of great annoyance to Uncle Vernon. Compared to the man on the television, however, whose gaunt face was surrounded by a matted, elbow-length tangle, Harry felt very well groomed indeed.
The reporter had reappeared.
'The Ministry of Agriculture and Fisheries will announce today --'
'Hang on!' barked Uncle Vernon, staring furiously at the reporter. 'You didn't tell us where that maniac's escaped from! What use is that? Lunatic could be coming up the street right now!'
Aunt Petunia, who was bony and horse-faced, whipped around and peered intently out of the kitchen window. Harry knew Aunt Petunia would simply love to be the one to call the hotline number. She was the nosiest woman in the world and spent most of her life spying on the boring, law-abiding neighbors.
'When will they learn,' said Uncle Vernon, pounding the table with his large purple fist, 'that hanging's the only way to deal with these people?'
'Very true,' said Aunt Petunia, who was still squinting into next door's runner beans.
Uncle Vernon drained his teacup, glanced at his watch, and added, 'I'd better be off in a minute, Petunia. Marge's train gets in at ten.'
Harry, whose thoughts had been upstairs with the Broomstick Servicing Kit, was brought back to earth with an unpleasant bump.
'Aunt Marge?' he blurted out. 'Sh - she's not coming here, is she?'
Aunt Marge was Uncle Vernon's sister. Even though she was not a blood relative of Harry's (whose mother had been Aunt Petunia's sister), he had been forced to call her 'Aunt' all his life. Aunt Marge lived in the country, in a house with a large garden, where she bred bulldogs. She didn't often stay at Privet Drive, because she couldn't bear to leave her precious dogs, but each of her visits stood out horribly vividly in Harry's mind.
At Dudley's fifth birthday party, Aunt Marge had whacked Harry around the shins with her walking stick to stop him from beating Dudley at musical statues. A few years later, she had turned up at Christmas with a computerized robot for Dudley and a box of dog biscuits for Harry. On her last visit, the year before Harry started at Hogwarts, Harry had accidentally trodden on the tail of her favorite dog. Ripper had chased Harry out into the garden and up a tree, and Aunt Marge had refused to call him off until past midnight. The memory of this incident still brought tears of laughter to Dudley's eyes.
Sirius Black, possibly the most infamous prisoner ever to be held in Azkaban fortress, is still eluding capture, the Ministry of Magic confirmed today. 'We are doing all we can to recapture Black,' said the Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge, this morning, 'and we beg the magical community to remain calm.
© 1999 by J. K. Rowling. Reprinted by permission of Scholastic Inc.
Author:J K Rowling [Rowling, J K]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Pottermore
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00
CHAPTER TWELVE
THE PATRONUS
Harry knew that Hermione had meant well, but that didnât stop him from being angry with her. He had been the owner of the best broom in the world for a few short hours, and now, because of her interference, he didnât know whether he would ever see it again. He was positive that there was nothing wrong with the Firebolt now, but what sort of state would it be in once it had been subjected to all sorts of anti-jinx tests?
Ron was furious with Hermione too. As far as he was concerned, the stripping-down of a brand-new Firebolt was nothing less than criminal damage. Hermione, who remained convinced that she had acted for the best, started avoiding the common room. Harry and Ron supposed she had taken refuge in the library and didnât try to persuade her to come back. All in all, they were glad when the rest of the school returned shortly after New Year, and Gryffindor Tower became crowded and noisy again.
Wood sought Harry out on the night before term started.
âHad a good Christmas?â he said, and then, without waiting for an answer, he sat down, lowered his voice, and said, âIâve been doing some thinking over Christmas, Harry. After the last match, you know. If the dementors come to the next one⦠I mean⦠we canât afford you to â well ââ
Wood broke off, looking awkward.
âIâm working on it,â said Harry quickly. âProfessor Lupin said heâd train me to ward off the dementors. We should be starting this week. He said heâd have time after Christmas.â
âAh,â said Wood, his expression clearing. âWell, in that case â I really didnât want to lose you as Seeker, Harry. And have you ordered a new broom yet?â
âNo,â said Harry.
âWhat! Youâd better get a move on, you know â you canât ride that Shooting Star against Ravenclaw!â
âHe got a Firebolt for Christmas,â said Ron.
âA Firebolt? No! Seriously? A â a real Firebolt?â
âDonât get excited, Oliver,â said Harry gloomily. âI havenât got it anymore. It was confiscated.â And he explained all about how the Firebolt was now being checked for jinxes.
âJinxed? How could it be jinxed?â
âSirius Black,â Harry said wearily. âHeâs supposed to be after me. So McGonagall reckons he might have sent it.â
Waving aside the information that a famous murderer was after his Seeker, Wood said, âBut Black couldnât have bought a Firebolt! Heâs on the run! The whole countryâs on the lookout for him! How could he just walk into Quality Quidditch Supplies and buy a broomstick?â
Prisoner Of Azkaban Pdf
âI know,â said Harry, âbut McGonagall still wants to strip it down ââ
Wood went pale.
âIâll go and talk to her, Harry,â he promised. âIâll make her see reason⦠. A Firebolt⦠a real Firebolt, on our team⦠She wants Gryffindor to win as much as we do⦠. Iâll make her see sense. A Firebolt . . .â
Classes started again the next day. The last thing anyone felt like doing was spending two hours on the grounds on a