More on this book
Community
Kindle Notes & Highlights
by
J.K. Rowling
Read between
June 17 - June 25, 2017
Quite the double act, Sirius Black and James Potter!”
Nothing changed when they left school. Black was best man when James married Lily. Then they named him godfather to Harry. Harry has no idea, of course. You can imagine how the idea would torment him.”
Dumbledore, who was of course working tirelessly against You-Know-Who, had a number of useful spies. One of them tipped him off,
“He suspected Black?” gasped Madam Rosmerta. “He was sure that somebody close to the Potters had been keeping You-Know-Who informed of their movements,” said Professor McGonagall darkly. “Indeed, he had suspected for some time that someone on our side had turned traitor and was passing a lot of information to You-Know-Who.”
The Ministry of Magic caught up with him next day!” “Alas, if only we had,” said Fudge bitterly. “It was not we who found him. It was little Peter Pettigrew — another of the Potters’ friends. Maddened by grief, no doubt, and knowing that Black had been the Potters’ Secret-Keeper, he went after Black himself.”
“Pettigrew died a hero’s death.
They say he was sobbing, ‘Lily and James, Sirius! How could you?’ And then he went for his wand. Well, of course, Black was quicker. Blew Pettigrew to smithereens. .
“I tell yeh, if I’d got ter Black before little Pettigrew did, I wouldn’t’ve messed around with wands — I’d’ve ripped him limb — from — limb,”
You-Know-Who alone and friendless is one thing . . . but give him back his most devoted servant, and I shudder to think how quickly he’ll rise again.
Why had nobody ever told him?
A hatred such as he had never known before was coursing through Harry like poison.
“I’ll never know what they’d have wanted, because thanks to Black, I’ve never spoken to them,”
who’d spend that much on you?” “Well,” said Harry, feeling stunned, “I’m betting it wasn’t the Dursleys.” “I bet it was Dumbledore,”
“That’s why he wouldn’t say it was from him!” said Ron. “In case some git like Malfoy said it was favoritism.
The Sneakoscope whirled and whistled in his palm. Crookshanks was hissing and spitting at it.
unless Scabbers had powers he had never revealed, he was reaching the end of his life.
Never forget that when thirteen dine together, the first to rise will be the first to die!”
I frequently act as though I am not possessed of the Inner Eye, so as not to make others nervous.”
that broom was probably sent to Harry by Sirius Black!”
She wants Gryffindor to win as much as we do.
She — er — got a bit shirty with me. Told me I’d got my priorities wrong. Seemed to think I cared more about winning the Cup than I do about you staying alive.
I told her I didn’t care if it threw you off, as long as you caught the Snitch first.”
You can exist without your soul, you know, as long as your brain and heart are still working. But you’ll have no sense of self anymore, no memory, no . . . anything. There’s no chance at all of recovery. You’ll just — exist. As an empty shell. And your soul is gone forever . . . lost.”
And Potter — do try and win, won’t you? Or we’ll be out of the running for the eighth year in a row,
“Er — Madam Hooch? Is it okay if Harry has the Firebolt back? We need to practice. . . .” “Oh — right — here you are, then, Potter,”
Wood scowled his displeasure that Cho Chang had made a full recovery,
“JORDAN! ARE YOU BEING PAID TO ADVERTISE FIREBOLTS? GET ON WITH THE COMMENTARY!”
“An unworthy trick!” she was shouting. “A low and cowardly attempt to sabotage the Gryffindor Seeker!
He was walking through a forest, his Firebolt over his shoulder, following something silvery-white. It was winding its way through the trees ahead, and he could only catch glimpses of it between the leaves.
“Black! Sirius Black! With a knife!” “What?” “Here! Just now! Slashed the curtains! Woke me up!”
“which abysmally foolish person wrote down this week’s passwords and left them lying around?”
but I gotta tell yeh, I thought you two’d value yer friend more’n broomsticks or rats. Tha’s all.”
“Ah, well, people can be a bit stupid abou’ their pets,” said Hagrid wisely. Behind him, Buckbeak spat a few ferret bones onto Hagrid’s pillow.
Snape’s eyes were boring into Harry’s. It was exactly like trying to stare down a hippogriff. Harry tried hard not to blink.
“Mr. Moony presents his compliments to Professor Snape, and begs him to keep his abnormally large nose out of other people’s business.”
“Mr. Prongs agrees with Mr. Moony, and would like to add that Professor Snape is an ugly git.”
“Mr. Padfoot would like to register his astonishment that an idiot like that ever became a professor.”
“You think a joke shop could supply him with such a thing? You don’t think it more likely that he got it directly from the manufacturers?”
Your parents gave their lives to keep you alive, Harry. A poor way to repay them — gambling their sacrifice for a bag of magic tricks.”
.Nothing will have changed.” “Yeah, it will,” said Ron fiercely. “You won’t have to do all the work alone this time, Hermione. I’ll help.”
“I am sorry to say that from the moment you have arrived in this class, my dear, it has been apparent that you do not have what the noble art of Divination requires. Indeed, I don’t remember ever meeting a student whose mind was so hopelessly mundane.”
Professor McGonagall was sobbing harder even than Wood, wiping her eyes with an enormous Gryffindor flag;
“It looks fine, it’s — flying away. . . .” Professor Trelawney sighed. “Well, dear, I think we’ll leave it there.
“THE DARK LORD LIES ALONE AND FRIENDLESS, ABANDONED BY HIS FOLLOWERS. HIS SERVANT HAS BEEN CHAINED THESE TWELVE YEARS. TONIGHT, BEFORE MIDNIGHT . . . THE SERVANT WILL BREAK FREE AND SET OUT TO REJOIN HIS MASTER. THE DARK LORD WILL RISE AGAIN WITH HIS SERVANT’S AID, GREATER AND MORE TERRIBLE THAN EVER BEFORE.
TONIGHT . . . BEFORE MIDNIGHT . . . THE SERVANT . . . WILL SET OUT . . . TO REJOIN . . . HIS MASTER. .
“I would certainly not presume to predict anything quite as far-fetched as that!”
But before they could cover themselves again, before they could even catch their breath, they heard the soft pounding of gigantic paws. . . . Something was bounding toward them out of the dark — an enormous, pale-eyed, jet-black dog.
a horrible crack cut the air like a gunshot; Ron’s leg had broken, and a moment later, his foot vanished from sight.
It was Sirius Black.
The seconds lengthened. And still Harry stood frozen there,
