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

however, that many have guessed, correctly, that Voldemort sent his Death Eaters to steal a prophecy, and that the prophecy concerned you.
    ‘Now, I think I am correct in saying that you have not told anybody that you know what the prophecy said?’
    ‘No,’ said Harry.
    ‘A wise decision, on the whole,’ said Dumbledore. ‘Although I think you ought to relax it in favour of your friends, Mr Ronald Weasley and Miss Hermione Granger. Yes,’ he continued, when Harry looked startled, ‘I think they ought to know. You do them a disservice by not confiding something this important to them.’
    ‘I didn’t want –’
    ‘– to worry or frighten them?’ said Dumbledore, surveying Harry over the top of his half-moon spectacles. ‘Or perhaps, to confess that you yourself are worried and frightened? You need your friends, Harry. As you so rightly said, Sirius would not have wanted you to shut yourself away.’
    Harry said nothing, but Dumbledore did not seem to require an answer. He continued, ‘On a different, though related, subject, it is my wish that you take private lessons with me this year.’
    ‘Private – with you?’ said Harry, surprised out of his preoccupied silence.
    ‘Yes. I think it is time that I took a greater hand in your education.’
    ‘What will you be teaching me, sir?’
    ‘Oh, a little of this, a little of that,’ said Dumbledore airily.
    Harry waited hopefully, but Dumbledore did not elaborate, so he asked something else that had been bothering him slightly.
    ‘If I’m having lessons with you, I won’t have to do Occlumency lessons with Snape, will I?’
    ‘ Professor Snape, Harry – and no, you will not.’
    ‘Good,’ said Harry in relief, ‘because they were a –’
    He stopped, careful not to say what he really thought.
    ‘I think the word “fiasco” would be a good one here,’ said Dumbledore, nodding.
    Harry laughed.
    ‘Well, that means I won’t see much of Professor Snape from now on,’ he said, ‘because he won’t let me carry on Potions unless I get “Outstanding” in my O.W.L., which I know I haven’t.’
    ‘Don’t count your owls before they are delivered,’ said Dumbledore gravely. ‘Which, now I think of it, ought to be some time later today. Now, two more things, Harry, before we part.
    ‘Firstly, I wish you to keep your Invisibility Cloak with you at all times from this moment onwards. Even within Hogwarts itself. Just in case, you understand me?’
    Harry nodded.
    ‘And lastly, while you stay here, The Burrow has been given the highest security the Ministry of Magic can provide. These measures have caused a certain amount of inconvenience to Arthur and Molly – all their post, for instance, is being searched at the Ministry, before being sent on. They do not mind in the slightest, for their only concern is your safety. However, it would be poor repayment if you risked your neck while staying with them.’
    ‘I understand,’ said Harry quickly.
    ‘Very well, then,’ said Dumbledore, pushing open the broom-shed door and stepping out into the yard. ‘I see a light in the kitchen. Let us not deprive Molly any longer of the chance to deplore how thin you are.’

 
     
— CHAPTER FIVE —
     
An Excess of Phlegm
    Harry and Dumbledore approached the back door of The Burrow, which was surrounded by the familiar litter of old wellington boots and rusty cauldrons; Harry could hear the soft clucking of sleepy chickens coming from a distant shed. Dumbledore knocked three times and Harry saw sudden movement behind the kitchen window.
    ‘Who’s there?’ said a nervous voice that he recognised as Mrs Weasley’s. ‘Declare yourself!’
    ‘It is I, Dumbledore, bringing Harry.’
    The door opened at once. There stood Mrs Weasley, short, plump and wearing an old green dressing-gown.
    ‘Harry, dear! Gracious, Albus, you gave me a fright, you said not to expect you before morning!’
    ‘We were lucky,’ said Dumbledore, ushering Harry over the threshold. ‘Slughorn proved much more persuadable than I had expected. Harry’s doing, of course. Ah, hello, Nymphadora!’
    Harry looked around and saw that Mrs Weasley was not alone, despite the lateness of the hour. A young witch with a pale, heart-shaped face and mousy-brown hair was sitting at the table clutching a large mug between her hands.
    ‘Hello, Professor,’ she said. ‘Wotcher, Harry.’
    ‘Hi, Tonks.’
    Harry thought she looked drawn, even ill, and there was something forced in