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"Better reason for inviting someone than because their mother's famous," said Harry, scowling at the back of Zabini's head, "or because their uncle ?quot;
Fleur's words were drowned in a scream. Hermione was pointing through the kitchen window. Three black specks were clearly visible in the sky, growing larger all the time.
"Oh yeah, he's really come on," said Hagrid proudly. "Yeh'll be amazed. I'm thinkin' o' trainin' him up as me assistant."
There was a whistle behind them; nearly everyone had boarded the train and the doors were closing.
Defense Against the Dark Arts O
"It just won't budge," Mrs. Weasley was saying anxiously, standing over Hermione with her wand in her hand and a copy of The Healer's Helpmate open at "Bruises, Cuts, and Abrasions." "This has always worked before, I just can't understand it."
McLaggen, a large, wiry-haired youth, raised a hand, and Harry and Neville nodded back at him.
"Why, where are they?"
"But wands — what'll people do for wands?"
"It wasn't that exciting. He just wanted me to help him persuade this old teacher to come out of retirement. His name's Horace Slughorn."
"Wrackspurt got you?" asked Luna sympathetically, peering at Harry through her enormous colored spectacles.
Without warning, Malfoy pointed his wand at Harry, who was instantly paralyzed. As though in slow motion, he toppled out of the luggage rack and fell, with an agonizing, floor-shaking crash, at Malfoy's feet, the Invisibility Cloak trapped beneath him, his whole body revealed with his legs still curled absurdly into the cramped kneeling position. He couldn't move a muscle; he could only gaze up at Malfoy, who smiled broadly.
Harry and Ron looked at each other. Harry could tell that Ku| was experiencing the same sinking feeling as himself.
"That's true," said Hermione. "1 wonder what he'll teach you, Harry? Really advanced defensive magic, probably. . . powerful countercurses . . . anti-jinxes . . ."