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"What are you talking about?" said Harry.
He wrenched open the door and as the elf came hurrying up to him, he kicked him right through it. They could hear Dobby squealing with pain all the way along the corridor. Harry stood for a moment, thinking hard. Then it came to him -
They reached Hagrid's house, sad and sorry-looking with its blank windows. When Harry pushed the door open, Fang went mad with joy at the sight of them. Worried he might wake everyone at the castle with his deep, booming barks, they hastily fed him treacle fudge from a tin on the mantelpiece, which glued his teeth together.
It was as though somebody had just flicked a light on in his brain.
Harry grabbed the diary and dashed out of the office. He could hear Dobby's squeals of pain receding around the corner. Quickly, wondering if this plan could possibly work, Harry took off one of his shoes, pulled off his slimy, filthy sock, and stuffed the diary into it. Then he ran down the dark corridor.
If the motorcycle was huge, it was nothing to the man sitting astride it. He was almost twice as tall as a normal man and at least five times as wide. He looked simply too big to be allowed, and so wild - long tangles of bushy black hair and beard hid most of his face, he had hands the size of trash can lids, and his feet in their leather boots were like baby dolphins. In his vast, muscular arms he was holding a bundle of blankets.
"That remains to be seen," said Mr. Malfoy with a nasty smile. "But as all twelve of us have voted -"
Three days before their first exam, Professor McGonagall made another announcement at breakfast.
"You shall go now," he said fiercely, pointing down at Mr. Malfoy. "You shall not touch Harry Potter. You shall go now."
"Well, er, if you must know, Ginny, er, walked in on me the other day when I was - well, never mind - the point is, she spot
Harry looked sideways at Ron. His mouth was still open in the silent scream, but his eyes weren't popping anymore.
"And so you met Tom Riddle," said Dumbledore thoughtfully. "I imagine he was most interested in you . . . . "
"I - well, I -"sputtered Lockhart.
Lockhart peered good-naturedly up at them all.
"I won't blow up the house," said Harry, but they weren't listening.
Lockhart, who had so often assured them that all danger had passed, only to be proved wrong right away, was now wholeheartedly convinced that it was hardly worth the trouble to see them safely down the corridors. His hair wasn't as sleek as usual; it seemed he had been up most of the night, patrolling the fourth floor.。