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Forager steam

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By Dohn

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Now hed done it. He hadnt even lasted two weeks. Hed be packing his bags in ten minutes. What would the Dursleys say when he turned up on the doorstep. Up the front steps, up the marble staircase inside, and still Professor McGonagall didnt say a word to him. She wrenched open doors and marched along corridors with Harry trotting miserably behind her. Maybe she was taking him to Dumbledore. He thought of Hagrid, expelled but allowed to stay on as gamekeeper. Perhaps he could be Hagrids assistant. His stomach twisted as he imagined it, watching Ron and the others becoming wizards while he stumped around the grounds carrying Hagrids bag. Professor McGonagall stopped outside a this scum steam consider. She opened Forager steam door and poked her head inside. Excuse me, Professor Flitwick, could I borrow Wood for a moment. Wood. thought Harry, bewildered; was Wood a cane she was going to use on him. But Wood turned out to be a person, a burly fifth-year boy who came out of Flitwicks class looking confused. Follow me, you two, said Professor McGonagall, and they marched on up the corridor, Wood looking curiously at Harry. In here. Professor McGonagall pointed them into a classroom that was empty except for Peeves, who was busy writing rude words on the blackboard. Out, Peeves. she barked. Peeves threw the chalk into a bin, which clanged loudly, and he swooped out cursing. Professor McGonagall slammed the door behind him and turned to face the two boys. Potter, this is Oliver Wood. Wood - Ive found you a Seeker. Woods expression changed from puzzlement to delight. Are you serious, Professor. Absolutely, said Professor McGonagall crisply. The boys a natural. Ive never seen anything like it. Was that your first time on a broomstick, Potter. Harry nodded silently. He didnt have a clue what was going on, but he didnt seem to be being expelled, and some of the feeling started coming back to his legs. He caught that thing in his hand after a fifty-foot dive, Professor McGonagall told Wood. Didnt even scratch himself. Charlie Weasley couldnt have Forager steam it. Wood was now looking as though all his dreams had come true at once. Ever seen a game of Forager steam, Potter. he asked excitedly. Woods captain of the Gryffindor team, Professor McGonagall explained. Hes just the build for a Seeker, too, said Wood, now walking around Harry and staring at him. Light - speedy - well have to get him a decent broom, Professor - a Nimbus Two Thousand or a Cleansweep Seven, Id say. I shall speak to Professor Dumbledore and see if we cant bend the firstyear rule. Heaven knows, we need a better team than last year. Flattened in that last match by Slytherin, I couldnt look Severus Snape in the face for weeks. Professor McGonagall peered sternly over her glasses at Harry. I want to hear youre training hard, Potter, or I may change my mind about punishing you. Then she good final fantasy 7 ever crisis agree smiled. Your father would have been proud, she said. He was an excellent Quidditch player himself. Youre joking.

Weasley, picking up the boot and handing it to the kilted wizard, who threw it into a large box of used Portkeys beside him; Harry could see an old newspaper, an empty drinks can, and a punctured football. Hello there, Arthur, said Basil wearily. Not on duty, eh. Its all right for some. Weve been here all night. Youd better get out of the way, weve got a big party coming in from the Black Forest at five-fifteen. Hang on, Ill find your campsite. Weasley. Weasley. He consulted his parchment list. About a quarter of pc small gaming miles walk over there, first field you come to. Site managers called Mr. Roberts. Diggory. second field. ask for Mr. Payne. Thanks, Basil, said Mr. Weasley, and he beckoned everyone to follow him. They set off across the deserted moor, unable to make out much through the mist. After about twenty minutes, a small stone cottage next to a gate swam into view. Beyond it, Harry could just make out the ghostly shapes of hundreds and hundreds of tents, rising up the gentle slope of a Th12 war base 2022 field toward a dark wood on the horizon. They said good-bye to the Diggorys and approached the cottage door. A man was standing in the doorway, looking out at the tents. Harry knew at a glance that this was the only real Muggle for several acres. When he heard their footsteps, he turned his head to look at them. Morning. said Mr. Weasley brightly. Morning, said the Muggle. Would you be Mr. Th12 war base 2022. Aye, I would, said Mr. Roberts. And whore you. Weasley - two tents, booked a couple of days ago. Aye, said Mr. Roberts, consulting a list tacked to the door. Youve got a space up by the wood there. Just the one night. Thats it, said Mr. Weasley. Youll be paying now, then. said Mr. Roberts. Ah - right - certainly - said Mr. Weasley. He retreated a short gaming pc 5 from the cottage and beckoned Harry toward him. Help me, Harry, he muttered, pulling a roll of Muggle money from his pocket and starting to peel the notes apart. This ones a - a - a ten. Ah yes, I see the little number on Th12 war base 2022 now. So this is a five. A twenty, Harry corrected him in an undertone, uncomfortably aware of Mr. Roberts trying to catch every word. Ah yes, so it is. I dont know, these little bits of paper. You foreign. said Mr. Roberts as Mr. Weasley returned with Th12 war base 2022 correct notes. Foreign. repeated Mr. Weasley, puzzled. Youre not the first one whos had trouble with money, said Mr. Roberts, scrutinizing Mr. Weasley closely. I had two try and pay me with great gold coins the size of hubcaps ten minutes ago. Did you really. said Mr. Weasley nervously. Roberts rummaged around in a tin for some change. Never been this crowded, he said suddenly, looking out over the misty field again. Hundreds of pre-bookings. People usually just turn up. Is that right. said Mr. Weasley, his hand held out for his change, but Mr. Roberts didnt give it to him.

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He thought he knew what was coming. His uncle began to pace up and down, Aunt Petunia and Dudley following his movements with anxious expressions.