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He scanned the page in his hand eagerly. The more he looked at it, the more it made sense.

"Yes, perhaps you'd better come, too, Weasley .....

Studying hard! It had never occurred to Harry that there would be exams with the castle in this state. There was a great deal of mutinous muttering around the room, which made Professor McGonagall scowl even more darkly.

Dudley thought for a moment. It looked like hard work. Finally he said slowly, "So I'll have thirty ... thirty..."

So Harry, his voice now growing hoarse from all this talking, told them about Fawkes's timely arrival and about the Sorting Hat giving him the sword. But then he faltered. He had so far avoided mentioning Riddle's diary -- or Ginny. She was standing with her head against Mrs. Weasley's shoulder, and tears were still coursing silently down her cheeks. What if they expelled her? Harry thought in panic. Riddle's diary didn't work anymore .... How could they prove it had been he who'd made her do it all?

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All three of them turned to stare into the darkness ahead.

He had gone. Harry's wand fell to the floor with a clatter and there was silence. Silence except for the steady drip drip of ink still oozing from the diary. The basilisk venom had burned a sizzling hole right through it.

"Thirty-six," he said, looking up at his mother and father. "That's two less than last year."

One person, however, seemed to be thoroughly enjoying the atmosphere of terror and suspicion. Draco Malfoy was strutting around the school as though he had just been appointed Head Boy. Harry didn't realize what he was so pleased about until the Potions lesson about two weeks after Dumbledore and Hagrid had left, when, sitting right behind Malfoy, Harry overheard him gloating to Crabbe and Goyle.

* 2-V2 *

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"Kill them," clicked Aragog fretfully. "I was sleeping ......

The stranger had rumpled gray hair and an anxious expression, and was wearing a strange mixture of clothes: a pinstriped suit, a

"Good luck, Harry," he murmured. He turned on his heel and with a swish of his cloak, he was gone.

Dumbledore answered it. It was Harry's turn for an elbow in the ribs; he'd let out an audible gasp.

The elf's ugly brown face split suddenly into a wide, toothy smile.

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"There's just no point talking to a Petrified. person," she said, and they had to admit she had a point when they'd taken their seats next to Hermione. It was plain that Hermione didn't have the faintest inkling that she had visitors, and that they might just as well tell her bedside cabinet not to worry for all the good it would do.

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"What?"

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"What is it?" said Harry.,

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"A lemon drop. They're a kind of Muggle sweet I'm rather fond of";

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