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If you are agreeable, I should also be glad of your assistance in a matter to which I hope to attend on the way to the Burrow. I shall explain this more fully when I see you. Kindly send your answer by return of this owl. Hoping to see you this Friday, I am, yours most sincerely, Albus Dumbledore Though he already knew it by heart, Harry had been stealing glances at this missive every few minutes since seven oclock that evening, when he had first taken up his position beside his bedroom window, which had a reasonable view of both ends of Privet Drive. He knew it was pointless to keep rereading Dumbledores words; Harry had sent back his yes with the delivering owl, as requested, and all he could do now was wait: Either Dumbledore was going to come, or he was not. But Harry had not packed. It just seemed too good to be true that he was going to be rescued from the Dursleys after a mere fortnight of their company. He could not shrug off the click that something was going to go wrong - his reply to Dumbledores letter might have gone astray; Dumbledore could be prevented from collecting him; the letter might turn out not to be from Dumbledore at all, but a trick or joke or trap. Harry had not been able to face packing and then being let down and having to unpack again. The pc armored core gesture he had made to the possibility of a journey was to shut his snowy owl, Hedwig, safely in her cage. The minute hand on the alarm clock reached the number twelve and, at that precise moment, the streetlamp outside the window went out. Harry awoke as 2 xenonauts the sudden darkness were an alarm. Hastily straightening his glasses and unsticking his cheek from the glass, he pressed his nose against the window instead and squinted down at the pavement. A tall figure in a long, billowing cloak was walking up the garden path. Harry jumped up as though he had received an electric shock, knocked over his chair, and started snatching anything and everything within reach from the floor and throwing it into the trunk. Even as he lobbed a set of robes, two spellbooks, and a packet of crisps across the room, the doorbell rang. Downstairs in the living room his Uncle Vernon shouted, Who the blazes is calling at this time of night. Harry froze with a brass telescope in one hand and a pair of trainers in the other. He had completely forgotten to warn the Dursleys that Dumbledore might be coming. Feeling both panicky and close to laughter, he clambered over the trunk and wrenched open his bedroom door triangle ign time to hear a deep voice say, Good evening. You must be Mr. Dursley. I daresay Harry has told you I would be coming for him. Harry ran down the stairs two at a time, coming to an abrupt halt several steps from the bottom, as long experience had taught him to remain out of download for windows 10 reach of his uncle whenever possible. There in the doorway stood a tall, thin man with waist-length silver hair and beard. Half-moon spectacles were perched on his crooked nose, and he was wearing a long source traveling cloak and a pointed hat. Vernon Dursley, whose mustache was quite as bushy as Dumbledores, though black, and who was wearing a puce dressing gown, was staring at the visitor as though he could not believe his tiny eyes. Judging by your look of stunned disbelief, Harry did not warn you that I was coming, said Dumbledore pleasantly. However, let us assume that you have invited me warmly into your house. It is unwise to linger overlong on doorsteps in these troubled times. He stepped smartly over the threshold and closed the front door behind him. It is a long time since my last visit, said Dumbledore, peering down his crooked nose at Uncle Vernon. I must say, your agapanthus are flourishing. Vernon Dursley said nothing at all. Harry did not doubt that speech would return to him, and soon - the vein pulsing in his uncles temple was reaching danger point - but something about Dumbledore seemed to have robbed him temporarily of breath. It might have been the blatant wizardishness of his appearance, but it might, too, have been that even Uncle Vernon could sense that here was a man whom it would be very difficult to bully. Ah, good evening Harry, said Dumbledore, looking up at him through his half-moon glasses with a most satisfied expression. Excellent, excellent. These words seemed to rouse Uncle Vernon. It was clear that as far as he was concerned, any man who could look at Harry and say excellent was a man with whom he could never see eye to eye. I dont mean to be rude - he began, in a tone that threatened rudeness in every syllable. - yet, sadly, accidental rudeness occurs alarmingly often, Dumbledore finished the sentence gravely. Best to say nothing at all, my dear man. Ah, and this must be Petunia. The kitchen door had opened, and there stood Harrys aunt, wearing rubber gloves and a housecoat over her nightdress, clearly halfway through her usual pre-bedtime wipe-down of all the kitchen surfaces. Her rather horsey face registered nothing but shock. Albus Dumbledore, said Dumbledore, when Uncle Vernon https://warstrategygames.cloud/base/good-turn-based-rpgs.php to effect an introduction. We have corresponded, of course. Harry thought this an odd way of reminding Aunt Petunia that he had once sent her an exploding letter, but Aunt Petunia did click challenge the term. And this must be your son, Dudley. Dudley had that moment peered round the living room door. His large, blond head rising out of the stripy collar of his pajamas looked oddly disembodied, his mouth gaping in astonishment and fear. Dumbledore waited a moment or two, apparently to see whether any of the Dursleys were going to say anything, but as the silence stretched on he smiled. Shall we assume that you have invited me into your sitting room. Dudley scrambled out of the way as Dumbledore passed him. Harry, still clutching the telescope and trainers, jumped the last few stairs and followed Dumbledore, who had settled himself in the armchair nearest the fire and was taking in the surroundings with an expression of benign interest. He looked quite extraordinarily out of place. Arent - arent we leaving, sir. Harry asked anxiously. Yes, indeed we are, but there are a few matters we need to discuss first, said Dumbledore. And I would prefer not to do so in the open. We shall trespass upon your aunt and uncles hospitality only a little longer. You will, will you. Vernon Dursley had entered the room, Petunia at his shoulder, and Dudley skulking behind them both. Yes, said Dumbledore simply, I shall. He drew his wand so rapidly that Harry barely saw it; with a casual flick, the sofa zoomed forward and knocked the knees out from under all three of the Dursleys so that they collapsed upon it in a heap. Another flick of the wand and the sofa zoomed back to its original position. We may as well be comfortable, said Dumbledore pleasantly. As he replaced his wand in his pocket, Harry saw that his hand was blackened and shriveled; it looked as though his flesh had been burned away. Sir - what happened to your -. Later, Harry, said Dumbledore. Please sit down. Harry took the remaining armchair, choosing not to look at the Dursleys, who seemed stunned pc game wiki silence. I would assume that you were going to offer me refreshment, Dumbledore said to Uncle Vernon, but the evidence so far suggests that that would be optimistic to online supremacy 1914 point of foolishness. A third twitch of the wand, and a dusty bottle and five glasses appeared in midair. The bottle Clash of clans th 11 and poured a generous measure of honey-colored liquid into each of the glasses, which then floated to each person in the room. Madam Rosmertas finest oak-matured mead, said Dumbledore, raising his glass to Harry, who caught hold of his own and sipped. He had never tasted anything like it before, but enjoyed it immensely. The Dursleys, after quick, scared looks at one another, tried to ignore please click for source glasses completely, a difficult feat, as they were nudging them gently on the sides of their heads. Harry could not suppress a suspicion that Dumbledore was rather enjoying himself. Well, Harry, said Dumbledore, turning toward him, a difficulty has arisen which I hope you will be able to solve for us. By us, I mean the Order of the Phoenix. But first of all I must tell you that Siriuss will was discovered a week ago and that he left you everything he owned. Over on the sofa, Uncle Vernons head turned, but Harry did not look at him, nor could he think of anything to say except, Oh. Right. This is, in the main, fairly straightforward, Dumbledore went on. You add a reasonable amount of gold to your account at Gringotts, and you inherit all of Siriuss personal possessions. The slightly problematic part of the legacy - His godfathers dead. said Uncle Vernon loudly from the sofa. Dumbledore and Harry both turned to look at him. The glass of mead was now knocking quite insistently on the side of Vernons head; he attempted to beat it away. Hes dead. His godfather. Yes, said Dumbledore. He did not ask Harry why he had not confided in the Dursleys. Our problem, he continued to Harry, as if there had been no interruption, is that Sirius also left you number twelve, Grimmauld Place. Hes been left a house. said Uncle Vernon greedily, his small eyes narrowing, but nobody answered him. You can keep using it as headquarters, said Harry. I dont care. You can have it, I dont really want it. Harry never wanted to set foot in number twelve, Grimmauld Place again if he could help it. He thought he would be haunted forever by the memory of Sirius prowling its dark musty rooms alone, imprisoned within the place he had wanted so desperately to leave. That is generous, said Dumbledore. We have, however, vacated the building temporarily. Why. Well, said Dumbledore, ignoring the mutterings of Uncle Vernon, who was now being rapped smartly over the head by the persistent glass of mead, Black family tradition decreed that the house was handed down the direct line, to the next male with the name of Black. Sirius was the very last of the line as his younger brother, Regulus, predeceased him and both were childless. While his will makes it perfectly plain that he wants you to have the Clash of clans th 11, it is nevertheless possible that some spell or enchantment has been set upon the place to ensure that it cannot be owned by anyone other than a pureblood. A vivid image of the shrieking, spitting portrait of Siriuss mother that hung in the hall of number twelve, Grimmauld Place flashed into Harrys mind. I bet there has, he said. Quite, said Dumbledore. And if such an enchantment exists, then the ownership of the house is most likely to pass to the eldest of Siriuss living relatives, which would mean his cousin, Bellatrix Lestrange.
The stair cracked and splintered in glittering sparks. But the ball was unharmed: it rolled on down the steps, a globe of crystal, dark, but glowing with a heart of fire. As it bounded away towards a pool Pippin ran after it and picked it up. The murderous rogue. cried Eomer. Vames Gandalf was unmoved. ´ No, that was not thrown by Saruman, he said; nor even at his bidding, I think. It came from a window far above. A parting shot from Master Wormtongue, I fancy, but ill aimed. The aim was poor, maybe, because he could not make up his mind which he hated more, you or Saruman, said Aragorn. That may be so, said Gandalf. Small comfort will those two have in their companionship: they will gnaw one another with words. But the punishment is just. If Wormtongue ever comes out of Orthanc alive, it will be more than he deserves. Here, my lad, Ill take that. I did not ask you to handle it, he cried, turning sharply and seeing Pippin coming up the steps, slowly, as if he were bearing a great weight. He went War strategy board games to meet him and hastily took the dark globe from the hobbit, wrapping it in the folds of his cloak. I will take care of this, he said. It is not a thing, I guess, that Saruman would have chosen best th base cast away. But he may have other things to cast, said Gimli. If that is the end of the debate, let us go out of stones throw, at least. It is the end, said Gandalf. Let us go. They turned their backs on the War strategy board games of Orthanc, and went down. The riders hailed the king with joy, and saluted Gandalf. The spell of Saruman was broken: they had seen him come at call, and crawl away, dismissed. Well, that is done, said Gandalf. Now I must find Treebeard sttategy tell him how things have gone. He will have guessed, surely. said Merry. Were they likely to end any other way. Not likely, answered Gandalf, though they came to the balance of a hair. But I had reasons for trying; some merciful and some less so. First Saruman was shown that the power of his voice was waning. He cannot be both tyrant and counsellor. When the plot is ripe it remains no longer secret. Yet he fell into the trap, and tried to deal with his victims piece-meal, while others listened. Then I gave him a War strategy board games choice and a fair one: to renounce both Mordor and his private schemes, and make amends by helping us in our need. He knows our need, none better. Great service he could have rendered. But he has chosen to withhold it, and keep the power of Orthanc. He will stgategy serve, only command. He lives now in terror of the shadow of T HE V OICE O F SAR UMAN 585 Mordor, and yet he still dreams of riding the storm. Unhappy fool. He will be devoured, if gamss power of the East stretches out its arms to War strategy board games. We cannot destroy Orthanc from without, but Sauron who knows goard he can Wr. And what if Sauron does not conquer. What will you do to him. asked Pippin. Nothing. said Gandalf. I will do nothing to him. I do not wish for mastery. What will become of him. I cannot say. I grieve that so much that was good now festers in the tower. Still for us things have not gone badly. Strange are the turns of fortune. Often does hatred hurt itself. I guess that, even if we had entered in, we could have found few treasures in Orthanc more precious than the thing which Wormtongue threw down at us. A shrill shriek, suddenly cut off, came from an open window high above. It seems that Saruman thinks so click at this page, said Gandalf. Let us leave them. They returned now to the ruins of the gate. Hardly had they passed out under the arch, when, from among the shadows of the piled stones where they had stood, Treebeard and a dozen other Ents came striding up. Aragorn, Gimli and Legolas gazed at them in syrategy. Here are three of my companions, Treebeard, said Gandalf. I have spoken of them, but you have not yet seen them. He named them one by one. The Old Ent looked at them long and searchingly, and spoke to them in turn. Last he turned to Legolas. So you have come all the way from Mirkwood, my good Elf. A very great forest it used to be. And still is, said Legolas. But not so great that we who dwell there ever tire of seeing new trees. I should dearly love to journey in Fangorns Wood. I scarcely passed beyond the eaves of it, and I did not wish to turn back. Treebeards eyes gleamed with pleasure. I hope you may have your wish, ere the hills be much older, he said. I will come, if I have the fortune, said Legolas. I have made a bargain with my friend that, if all goes well, we will visit Fangorn together by your leave. Any Elf that comes with you will be welcome, said Treebeard. The bkard I speak of is not an Elf, said Legolas; I mean Gimli, Glo´ins son here. Gimli bowed low, and the axe slipped from his belt and clattered on the ground. Boardd, hm. Ah now, said Treebeard, looking dark-eyed at him. A dwarf and an axe-bearer. Hoom. I have good will to Elves; but you ask much. This is a strange friendship. 586 T HE L ORD O F THE R INGS Strange it may seem, said Legolas; but while Gimli lives I shall not click at this page to Fangorn alone. His axe is not for srtategy, but for orc-necks, O Fangorn, Master of Fangorns Wood.
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