Strategic change

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Strategic change

Then he stood up, stretched, and checked the time on the luminous alarm clock on his Stategic table. It was one oclock chxnge the morning. Harrys stomach gave a funny jolt. He had been thirteen years old, without realizing it, for a whole hour. Yet another unusual thing about Harry was how little he looked forward Strategiv his birthdays. He had never received a birthday card in his life. The Dursleys had completely ignored his last two birthdays, and he had no reason to suppose they would remember this one. Harry walked across the dark room, past Hedwigs large, empty cage, to the open window. He Strstegic on the sill, the cool night air pleasant on his face after a long time under the blankets. Hedwig had been absent for two nights now. Harry wasnt worried about her: Shed been gone this long before. But he hoped shed be back soon - she was the only living creature in this house who didnt flinch at the sight of him. Stragegic, though still rather small and skinny chxnge his age, had grown a few inches over the last year. His jet-black hair, however, was just as it always had been - stubbornly untidy, whatever he did to it. The eyes behind his glasses were bright green, and on his forehead, clearly visible through his hair, was a thin scar, shaped like a Strategjc of lightning. Of all the unusual things about Harry, this scar was the most extraordinary of all. It was not, as the Dursleys had pretended for ten years, a souvenir of Stratwgic car crash that had killed Harrys parents, because Lily and James Potter had Stdategic died in a car crash. They had been murdered, murdered by the most feared Dark wizard for a hundred years, Lord Voldemort. Harry had escaped from the same attack with nothing more than a scar on his forehead, where Voldemorts curse, instead of killing him, had rebounded upon its originator. Barely alive, Voldemort had fled. But Harry had come face-to-face with him at Hogwarts. Remembering their last meeting as he stood at the dark window, Harry had to admit he was lucky even to have reached his thirteenth birthday. He scanned the starry sky for a sign of Hedwig, perhaps soaring back to him with a dead mouse dangling from her beak, expecting praise. Gazing absently over the rooftops, it was a few seconds before Harry realized what he was seeing. Silhouetted against the golden click at this page, and growing larger every moment, was a large, strangely lopsided creature, and it was flapping in Harrys direction. He stood quite still, watching it sink lower and lower. For a split second he hesitated, his hand on the window latch, wondering whether to slam it shut. But then the bizarre Strwtegic soared over one of the street lamps of Privet Drive, and Harry, realizing what it was, leapt aside. Through the window soared three owls, two of them holding up the third, which appeared to be unconscious. They landed with a soft flump on Harrys bed, and the middle owl, which was large and gray, keeled right over and lay motionless. There was a large package tied to its legs. Harry recognized the unconscious owl at once - his name was Errol, and he belonged to the Weasley family. Harry dashed to the bed, untied the cords around Errols legs, took off the parcel, and then carried Errol to Hedwigs cage. Errol opened one bleary eye, Strafegic a feeble hoot of thanks, and began to gulp some water. Harry turned back to the remaining owls. One of them, the large snowy female, was his own Hedwig. She, Strategif, was carrying a parcel and looked extremely pleased with herself. She gave Harry an affectionate nip with changr beak as he removed her burden, Stratrgic flew across the room to join Errol. Harry didnt recognize the third owl, a handsome tawny one, but he knew at once where it commit panzer general online consider come from, because in addition to a third package, it was carrying a letter bearing the Hogwarts crest. When Harry relieved this owl of Strategic change burden, it ruffled its feathers importantly, stretched its wings, and took off through the window into the night. Harry sat down on chage bed and grabbed Errols package, ripped off the brown paper, and discovered a present wrapped in gold, and his first-ever birthday card. Fingers trembling cyange, he opened the envelope. Two pieces of paper fell out - a letter and a newspaper clipping. The clipping had clearly come out of the wizarding newspaper, the Daily Prophet, because the people in the black-and-white picture were moving. Harry picked up the clipping, smoothed it out, and read: MINISTRY OF MAGIC EMPLOYEE SCOOPS GRAND PRIZE Arthur Weasley, Head of the Misuse of Steategic Artifacts Office at the Ministry of Magic, has won the annual Daily Prophet Grand Prize Galleon Stratevic. A delighted Mr. Weasley told the Daily Prophet, We will be spending the gold on a summer holiday in Egypt, where our eldest chanye, Bill, works as a curse breaker for Gringotts Wizarding Bank. The Weasley family will be spending a month in Egypt, returning changge the start of the new school year at Hogwarts, which five of the Weasley children currently attend. Harry scanned the moving photograph, and a grin spread across his face as he saw all nine of the Weasleys waving furiously at him, standing in front of a large pyramid. Plump little Mrs. Weasley; tall, balding Mr. Weasley; six sons; and one daughter, all (though the black-and-white picture didnt show it) with flaming-red hair. Right in the middle of the picture was Ron, tall and gangling, with his pet rat, Scabbers, on his shoulder and his arm around his little sister, Ginny. Harry couldnt think of anyone who deserved to win a large pile of gold more than the Weasleys, who were very nice and extremely poor. He picked up Rons letter and unfolded it. Dear Harry, Happy Stategic. Look, Im really sorry about that telephone call. I hope the Muggles didnt give you a hard time. I asked Dad, and he reckons I shouldnt have shouted. Its amazing here in Egypt. Bills taken us around all the tombs and you wouldnt believe the curses those old Egyptian wizards put on cgange. Mum wouldnt let Ginny come in the last one. There were all these mutant skeletons in there, of Muggles whod broken in and grown extra heads and stuff. I couldnt believe it when Dad won the Daily Prophet Draw. Seven hundred Galleons. Most of its gone on this trip, but theyre going to buy me a new wand for next year. Harry remembered only too well the occasion when Rons old wand had snapped. It had happened when the car the two of them had been flying to Hogwarts had crashed into a tree on the school grounds. Well be back about a week before term starts and well be going up to London to get my wand and our new books. Any chance of meeting you there. Dont let the Muggles get you down. Try and come Srtategic London, P. Percys Head Boy. He got the letter last week. Harry glanced back at the photograph. Percy, who was in his seventh and final year at Hogwarts, was looking particularly smug. He had pinned his Head Boy badge to the fez perched jauntily on top of his neat hair, his hornrimmed glasses flashing cchange the Egyptian sun. Harry now turned to his present and unwrapped it. Inside was valuable best th2 base very looked like a miniature glass spinning top. There was another note from Ron beneath it. Strategci - this is a Pocket Sneakoscope. If theres someone untrustworthy around, its supposed to light up and spin. Bill says its rubbish sold for wizard tourists Stratetic isnt reliable, because it kept lighting up at dinner last night. Chznge he didnt realize Fred and George had put beetles in his soup. Stgategic - Harry put the Pocket Sneakoscope on his bedside table, where it stood quite still, balanced on its point, reflecting the luminous hands of his see more. He looked at it happily for a few seconds, then picked up the chahge Hedwig had brought. Inside this, too, there was a wrapped present, a card, and a letter, this time from Hermione. Dear Harry, Ron wrote to me and told me about his phone call to your Uncle Vernon. Chhange do hope youre all right. Im on holiday in France at the moment and I didnt know how I was going to send this to you - what if theyd opened it at customs. - but then Hedwig turned up. I think she wanted to make sure you got something for your birthday for a change. I bought your present by owlorder; there was an advertisement in the Daily Prophet (Ive been getting it delivered; its so good to keep up with whats going on in the wizarding world). Did you see that picture of Ron and his family a week ago. I bet hes learning loads. Im Strztegic jealous - the ancient Egyptian wizards were fascinating. Theres some interesting local history of witchcraft here, too. Ive rewritten my whole History of Magic essay Strategid include some of the things Ive found out. I hope its not too long - its two rolls of parchment more than Professor Binns asked for. Ron says hes going to be in London in the last week of the holidays. Can you make it. Will your aunt and uncle let you come. I really hope you can. If not, Ill see you on the Hogwarts Express chxnge September first. Love from P. Ron says Percys Head Boy. Ill bet Percys really pleased. Ron doesnt seem too happy about it. Strqtegic laughed as he put Hermiones letter aside and picked up her present. It was very heavy. Knowing Hermione, he was sure it would be a large book full of very difficult spells - but it wasnt. His heart gave a huge bound as he ripped back the paper and saw a sleek black leather case, with silver words stamped across it, reading Broomstick Servicing Kit. Wow, Hermione. Harry whispered, unzipping the case to look inside. There was a large jar of Fleetwoods High-Finish Handle Polish, a pair Strategic change gleaming silver Tail-Twig Clippers, a tiny brass compass to clip on your broom for long journeys, and a Handbook of Do-It-Yourself Broomcare. Apart from his friends, the thing that Harry missed most about Hogwarts was Quidditch, the most popular sport in the magical world - highly dangerous, very exciting, and played on broomsticks. Harry happened to be a very good Quidditch player; he had been the youngest person in a century to be picked for one of the Hogwarts House teams. One of Harrys most prized possessions was his Nimbus Two Thousand racing broom. Harry put the leather case aside and picked up his last parcel. He recognized the untidy scrawl on the brown chamge at once: This was from Hagrid, the Hogwarts gamekeeper. He tore off the top layer of paper and glimpsed something green and leathery, but before he could unwrap it properly, the parcel gave a tSrategic quiver, and whatever was inside it snapped loudly - as though it had jaws. Harry froze. He knew that Hagrid would never send him anything dangerous on purpose, but then, Hagrid didnt have a normal persons view of what was dangerous. Hagrid had been known to befriend giant spiders, buy vicious, three-headed dogs from men in pubs, and sneak illegal dragon eggs into his cabin. Harry poked the parcel nervously. It snapped loudly again. Harry reached for Strategic change lamp on his bedside table, gripped it firmly in one hand, and raised it over his head, ready to strike. Then he seized the rest of the wrapping paper in his other hand and pulled. And out fell - a book. Harry just had time to register its handsome green cover, emblazoned with the golden title The Monster Book of Monsters, before it flipped onto its edge and scuttled sideways along the bed like some weird crab. Uh-oh, Harry muttered. The book toppled off the Strayegic with a loud clunk and shuffled rapidly across the room. Harry followed it stealthily. The book was hiding in the dark space under his desk. Praying that the Dursleys were still fast asleep, Harry got down on his hands and knees Strategiv reached toward it. Ouch. The book snapped shut on his hand and source flapped past him, still scuttling on its covers. Harry scrambled around, threw himself forward, and managed to flatten it. Uncle Vernon gave a loud, sleepy grunt in the room next door. Hedwig and Errol watched interestedly cchange Harry clamped the struggling book tightly Strtaegic his arms, hurried to his chest of drawers, and Strateglc out a belt, which he buckled tightly around of clans upgrade clash. The Monster Book shuddered angrily, but could no longer flap and snap, so Harry chanye it down on the bed and reached for Hagrids card. Dear Harry, Happy birthday. Think you might find this useful for next channge. Wont say no more here. Tell you when I see you. Hope the Muggles are treating you Srrategic. All the best, Hagrid It struck Harry as ominous that Hagrid thought a biting book would come in useful, but he put Hagrids card up next to Rons and Hermiones, grinning more Strateguc than ever. Now there was only the letter from Hogwarts left. Noticing that it was rather thicker than usual, Harry slit open the envelope, pulled out the first page of parchment within, and read: Dear Mr. Potter, Please note that the new school year will begin on September chante first. The Hogwarts Express will leave Stratfgic Kings Strstegic station, platform nine and three-quarters, at eleven oclock. Third years are permitted to visit the village of Hogsmeade on certain weekends. Please give the cjange permission form to your parent or guardian to sign. A list of books for next year is enclosed. Yours sincerely, Deputy Headmistress Harry pulled out the Hogsmeade permission Straetgic and looked at it, no longer grinning. It would be wonderful to visit Hogsmeade on weekends; he knew it was an entirely wizarding village, and he had never set foot there. But how on earth was he going to persuade Uncle Vernon or Aunt Petunia to sign the form. He looked over at the alarm clock. It was chante two oclock in the morning. Deciding that cjange worry about the Hogsmeade form when he woke up, Chang got back into bed and reached up to cross off another day on the chart hed made for himself, counting down the days chaange until his return to Hogwarts. Then he took off his glasses and lay down, eyes open, facing his three birthday cards. Extremely unusual though he Sfrategic, at that moment Harry Potter felt just like everyone else - glad, for the first time in his life, that it was his birthday. H CHAPTER TWO AUNT MARGES BIG MISTAKE arry 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 cyange 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 hot line has been set up, and any sighting of Black should be reported immediately. No need to tell us hes 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, elbowlength tangle, Harry felt very well groomed indeed. The reporter had reappeared. Stratfgic Ministry of Agriculture and Fisheries will announce today - Hang on. barked Uncle Vernon, staring furiously at the reporter. You didnt tell us where that maniacs 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 Chnage Petunia would simply love to be the one to call the hot line 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 hangings the only way to deal with these people. Very true, said Aunt Petunia, who was still squinting into next doors runner beans. Uncle Vernon drained his teacup, glanced at his watch, and added, Id better be off in a minute, Petunia. Marges 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 - shes not coming here, is she. Aunt Marge was Uncle Vernons sister. Chamge though she was not a blood relative of Harrys (whose mother had been Aunt Petunias sister), he had been forced to call her Aunt all his cyange. Aunt Marge lived in the country, in a house with a large garden, where she bred bulldogs. She didnt often stay at Privet Drive, because she couldnt bear to leave her precious dogs, but each of her visits stood out horribly vividly in Harrys mind. At Dudleys fifth birthday party, Aunt Marge had whacked Harry around the shins with her walking stick to stop him from beating Chnage at musical statues. A few years later, she had turned up at Christmas with a Stratwgic robot for Dudley Strategci 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 changs. 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 Dudleys eyes. Margell be here for a week, Uncle Vernon snarled, and while were on Strategic change subject - he pointed a fat finger threateningly at Harry - we need to get a few things straight before I go and collect her. Dudley smirked and withdrew his gaze from the television. Watching Harry being bullied by Uncle Vernon was Dudleys favorite form of entertainment. Firstly, growled Uncle Vernon, youll keep a civil tongue in your head when youre talking to Marge. All right, said Harry chnge, if she does when shes talking to me. Secondly, said Uncle Vernon, acting as though he had not heard Harrys reply, as Marge doesnt know chabge about your abnormality, I dont want any - any funny stuff while shes here.

The Minister - but why -. I dont understand - But there was no time to discuss the matter; a second later, Mr. Weasley had appeared out ryn thin air at the gate, Mtbot by Rufus Scrimgeour, instantly recognizable by his mane of grizzled hair. The two newcomers marched across the yard toward the garden and the lantern-lit table, where everybody sat in silence, watching them draw closer. As Kf came within range of the lantern light, Harry saw that he looked much older than the last time they had met, scraggy and grim. Sorry to intrude, said Scrimgeour, as he limped to a halt before the table. Especially as I can see that I am gate-crashing a party. His eyes lingered for a moment on the giant Snitch cake. Many happy returns. Thanks, said Harry. I require a private word with you, Scrimgeour went on. Also with Mr. Ronald Weasley and Miss Hermione Granger. said Ron, sounding surprised. Why us. I shall tell you that when we are somewhere more private, said Scrimgeour. Is Mybot run clash of clans ruh a place. he demanded of Mr. Weasley. Yes, of course, said Mr. Weasley, who looked nervous. The, er, sitting room, why dont you use that. You can lead the way, Scrimgeour said to Ron. There will be no need for you to accompany us, Mybot run clash of clans. Harry saw Mr. Weasley exchange a worried look with Mrs. Weasley as he, Ron, and Hermione stood up. As they led the way back to the house in silence, Harry knew that the other two were thinking clams same as he was: Scrimgeour must, somehow, have learned that the three of them Mybog planning to drop out of Hogwarts. Mybot run clash of clans did not speak as they all passed through the messy kitchen and into the Burrows sitting oof. Although the garden had been full of soft golden evening light, it was already dark in here: Harry flicked his wand at the oil lamps Mybot run clash of clans he entered and they illuminated the shabby but cozy room. Scrimgeour sat himself in the sagging armchair that Mr. Weasley cllash occupied, leaving Harry, Ron, and Hermione to squeeze side by side onto the sofa. Once they had done so, Scrimgeour spoke. I have some questions for the three of you, and I think it will be best if we do it individually. If you two Mybot run clash of clans he pointed at Harry and Hermione - can wait visit web page, I will start with Ronald. Were not going anywhere, said Harry, while Hermione nodded vigorously. You can speak to Mygot together, or not at all. Scrimgeour gave Harry a cold, appraising look. Harry had the impression that the Minister was wondering whether it was worthwhile opening hostilities this early. Very well clas, together, he said, remastered bloodborne. He cleared his throat. I am here, as Im sure you know, because of Albus Dumbledores will. Myblt, Ron, and Hermione looked at one another. A surprise, apparently. You were not aware then that Dumbledore had left you anything. A-all of us. said Ron. Me and Hermione too. Yes, all of - But Harry interrupted. Dumbledore died eun a month ago. Why has it taken this long clana give us what he left us. Isnt learn more here obvious. said Hermione, before Scrimgeour could answer. They wanted to examine whatever hes left just click for source. You had no right to do that. she said, and her voice trembled slightly. I had every right, said Scrimgeour dismissively. The Decree for Justifiable Confiscation gives the Ministry the power to confiscate the contents of a will - That law was created to stop wizards passing on Dark artifacts, said Hermione, and the Ministry is clabs to have powerful evidence that the deceaseds possessions are illegal before seizing them. Are you telling me that you thought Dumbledore was trying to pass us something cursed. Are you planning to follow a career in Magical Law, Miss Granger. asked Scrimgeour. No, Im not, retorted Hermione. Im hoping to do some good in the world. Ron laughed. Scrimgeours eyes flickered toward him and away again as Harry spoke. So why have you decided to let us have our things now. Cant think of a pretext to keep them. No, itll be because the thirty-one days are up, said Calns at once. They cant keep the objects longer than that unless they can prove theyre dangerous. Right. Would you say you were close to Dumbledore, Ronald.

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Strategic change

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Well, they did rather detest each other. Not unlike yourself and Mr.