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    The office was full of people. Dumbledore was sitting behind his desk, his expression serene, the tips of his long fingers together. Professor McGonagall stood rigidly beside him, her face extremely tense. Cornelius Fudge, Minister for Magic, was rocking backwards and forwards on his toes beside the fire, apparently immensely pleased with the situation; Kingsley Shacklebolt and a tough-looking wizard with very short wiry hair whom Harry did not recognise, were positioned either side of the door like guards, and the freckled, bespectacled form of Percy Weasley hovered excitedly beside the wall, a quill and a heavy scroll of parchment in his hands, apparently poised to take notes.He was sorry to hear she had shed even more tears over it, but very glad they were on speaking terms again, and even more pleased when she gave him a swift kiss on the cheek and hurried off again. And unbelievably, no sooner had he arrived outside Transfiguration than something just as good happened: Seamus stepped out of the queue to face him. ( 2020-01-25 )

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    'Well, I think we should just try and forget what you saw,' said Hermione firmly. 'And you ought to put in a bit more effort on your Occlumency from now on.'A hundred Dementors were swooping towards Harry across the lake in the grounds . . . he screwed up his face in concentration . . . they were coming closer . . . he could see the dark holes beneath their hoods . . . yet he could also see Snape standing in front of him, his eyes fixed on Harry's face, muttering under his breath . . . and somehow, Snape was growing clearer, and the Dementors were growing fainter . . . ( 2020-01-25 )

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    Harry shook his head. Somewhere above them, the woman screamed again. Snape strode to his office door, his wand still held at the ready, and swept out of sight. Harry hesitated for a moment, then followed.'Remove something . . . he said Bode would have known he couldn't have done it . . . Bode was under the Imperius Curse . . . I think he said Malfoy's dad put it on him.' ( 2020-01-25 )

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    The portraits of old headmasters and headmistresses were not shamming sleep tonight. All of them were alert and serious, watching what was happening below them. As Harry entered, a few flitted into neighbouring frames and whispered urgently into their neighbour's ear.'Master, I crave your pardon,' croaked the man kneeling on the floor. The back of his head glimmered in the candlelight. He seemed to be trembling. ( 2020-01-25 )