Harry Potter 06 - Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince

bred in the race,
    the grinding scream of death
    and the stroke that hits the vein,
    the hemorrhage none can staunch, the grief,
    the curse no man can bear.
     
    But there is a cure in the house,
    and not outside it, no,
    not from others but from them ,
    their bloody strife. We sing to you,
    dark gods beneath the earth.
     
    Now hear, you blissful powers underground —
    answer the call, send help.
    Bless the children, give them triumph now.
     
    Aeschylus, The Libation Bearers
     
     
    Death is but crossing the world, as friends do the seas; they live in one another still. For they must needs be present, that love and live in that which is omnipresent. In this divine glass, they see face to face; and their converse is free, as well as pure. This is the comfort of friends, that though they may be said to die, yet their friendship and society are, in the best sense, ever present, because immortal.
     
    William Penn, More Fruits of Solitude
     

 
    CONTENTS
     
     
    ONE
    The Dark Lord Ascending
     
    TWO
    In Memoriam
     
    THREE
    The Dursleys Departing
     
    FOUR
    The Seven Potters
     
    FIVE
    Fallen Warrior
     
    SIX
    The Ghoul in Pyjamas
     
    SEVEN
    The Will of Albus Dumbledore
     
    EIGHT
    The Wedding
     
    NINE
    A Place to Hide
     
    TEN
    Kreacher’s Tale
     
    ELEVEN
    The Bribe
     
    TWELVE
    Magic is Might
     
    THIRTEEN
    The Muggle-Born Registration Commission
     
    FOURTEEN
    The Thief
     
    FIFTEEN
    The Goblin’s Revenge
     
    SIXTEEN
    Godric’s Hollow
     
    SEVENTEEN
    Bathilda’s Secret
     
    EIGHTEEN
    The Life and Lies of Albus Dumbledore
     
    NINETEEN
    The Silver Doe
     
    TWENTY
    Xenophilius Lovegood
     
    TWENTY-ONE
    The Tale of the Three Brothers
     
    TWENTY-TWO
    The Deathly Hallows
     
    TWENTY-THREE
    Malfoy Manor
     
    TWENTY-FOUR
    The Wandmaker
     
    TWENTY-FIVE
    Shell Cottage
     
    TWENTY-SIX
    Gringotts
     
    TWENTY-SEVEN
    The Final Hiding Place
     
    TWENTY-EIGHT
    The Missing Mirror
     
    TWENTY-NINE
    The Lost Diadem
     
    THIRTY
    The Sacking of Severus Snape
     
    THIRTY-ONE
    The Battle of Hogwarts
     
    THIRTY-TWO
    The Elder Wand
     
    THIRTY-THREE
    The Prince’s Tale
     
    THIRTY-FOUR
    The Forest Again
     
    THIRTY-FIVE
    King’s Cross
     
    THIRTY-SIX
    The Flaw in the Plan
     
    EPILOGUE
    Nineteen Years Later

 
     
— CHAPTER ONE —
     
The Dark Lord Ascending
    The two men appeared out of nowhere, a few yards apart in the narrow, moonlit lane. For a second they stood quite still, wands directed at each other’s chests; then, recognising each other, they stowed their wands beneath their cloaks and started walking briskly in the same direction.
    ‘News?’ asked the taller of the two.
    ‘The best,’ replied Severus Snape.
    The lane was bordered on the left by wild, low-growing brambles, on the right by a high, neatly manicured hedge. The men’s long cloaks flapped around their ankles as they marched.
    ‘Thought I might be late,’ said Yaxley, his blunt features sliding in and out of sight as the branches of overhanging trees broke the moonlight. ‘It was a little trickier than I expected. But I hope he will be satisfied. You sound confident that your reception will be good?’
    Snape nodded, but did not elaborate. They turned right, into a wide driveway that led off the lane. The high hedge curved with them, running off into the distance beyond the pair of impressive wrought-iron gates barring the men’s way. Neither of them broke step: in silence both raised their left arms in a kind of salute and passed straight through as though the dark metal were smoke.
    The yew hedges muffled the sound of the men’s footsteps. There was a rustle somewhere to their right: Yaxley drew his wand again, pointing it over his companion’s head, but the source of the noise proved to be nothing more than a pure white peacock, strutting majestically along the top of the hedge.
    ‘He always did himself well, Lucius. Peacocks … ’ Yaxley thrust his wand back under his cloak with a snort.
    A handsome manor house grew out of the darkness at the end of the straight drive, lights glinting in the diamond-paned downstairs windows. Somewhere in the dark garden beyond the hedge, a fountain was playing. Gravel crackled beneath their feet as Snape and Yaxley sped towards the front door, which swung inwards at their approach, though nobody had visibly opened it.
    The hallway was large, dimly lit and sumptuously decorated, with a magnificent carpet covering most of the stone floor. The eyes of the pale-faced portraits on the walls followed