Harry Potter 3 - Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban

I need you to sign the per­mis­sion form,’ said Har­ry in a rush.

‘And why should I do that?’ sneered Un­cle Ver­non.

‘Well,’ said Har­ry, choos­ing his words care­ful­ly, ‘it’ll be hard work, pre­tend­ing to Aunt Marge I go to that St What­sits …’

‘St Bru­tus’s Se­cure Cen­tre for In­cur­ably Crim­inal Boys!’ bel­lowed Un­cle Ver­non, and Har­ry was pleased to hear a def­inite note of pan­ic in Un­cle Ver­non’s voice.

‘Ex­act­ly,’ said Har­ry, look­ing calm­ly up in­to Un­cle Ver­non’s large, pur­ple face. ‘It’s a lot to re­mem­ber. I’ll have to make it sound con­vinc­ing, won’t I? What if I ac­ci­den­tal­ly let some­thing slip?’

‘You’ll get the stuff­ing knocked out of you, won’t you?’ roared Un­cle Ver­non, ad­vanc­ing on Har­ry with his fist raised. But Har­ry stood his ground.

‘Knock­ing the stuff­ing out of me won’t make Aunt Marge for­get what I could tell her,’ he said grim­ly.

Un­cle Ver­non stopped, his fist still raised, his face an ug­ly puce.

‘But if you sign my per­mis­sion form,’ Har­ry went on quick­ly, ‘I swear I’ll re­mem­ber where I’m sup­posed to go to school, and I’ll act like a Mug – like I’m nor­mal and ev­ery­thing.’

Har­ry could tell that Un­cle Ver­non was think­ing it over, even if his teeth were bared and a vein was throb­bing in his tem­ple

“Hang on,” blurted Harry. “What about my punishment?”

Fudge blinked.

“Punishment?”

“I broke the law!” Harry said. “The Decree for the Restriction of Underage Wizardry!”

“Oh, my dear boy, we’re not going to punish you for a little thing like that!” cried Fudge, waving his crumpet impatiently. “It was an accident! We don’t send people to Azkaban just for blowing up their aunts!”

‘I expect you’re tired of hearing it, but you do look extraordinarily like James. Except for your eyes … you have your mother’s eyes.’

“You haven’t got a godfather!”

“Yes, I have,” said Harry brightly. “He was my mum and dad’s best friend. He’s a convicted murderer, but he’s broken out of wizard prison and he’s on the run. He likes to keep in touch with me, though… keep up with my n

Never trust anything that can think for itself, if you can’t see where it keeps its brain.

His pale face split in a malevolent grin.

He turned, intending to head back toward the middle of the field, but at that moment, another flash of lightning illuminated the stands, and Harry saw something that distracted him completely — the silhouette of an enormous shaggy black dog, clearly imprinted against the sky, motionless in the topmost

“Do you know, Harry, I think she might have been,” he said thoughtfully. “Who’d have thought it? That brings her total of real predictions up to two. I should offer her a pay raise. …”

“Miss Granger,” said Snape in a voice of deadly calm, “I was under the impression that I am teaching this lesson, not you.

“I don’t go looking for trouble,” said Harry, nettled. “Trouble usually finds me.”