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She did not answer, but merely crossed out a few of his feebler sentences in a weary sort of way. Grinning, Harry hurried out through the portrait hole and off to the headmasters office. The gargoyle leapt aside at the mention of toffee eclairs, and Harry took the spiral staircase two steps at a time, knocking on the door just as a clock within chimed eight.

Harry could not think of any reply to this and was almost gl.i?l when Madam Pomfrey reminded them that there were only supposed to be six visitors around Ron's bed; he and Hermione rose .h once to leave and Hagrid decided to go with them, leaving Ron with his family.

"Blimey, no," said Hagrid, wiping his streaming eyes on the bot-tom of his shirt. "The other spiders won' let me anywhere near their webs now Aragog's gone. Turns out it was only on his orders they didn' eat me! Can yeh believe that, Harry?"

"You don't want to get hold of him, he's the size of a troll," said

“Yes, sir”.

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Ginny and Demelza scored a goal apiece, giving the red-and-gold-clad supporters below something to cheer about. Then Cadwallader scored again, making things level, but Luna did not seem to have noticed; she appeared singularly uninterested in such mundane things as the score, and kept attempting to draw the crowd's attention to such things as interestingly shaped clouds and the possibility that Zacharias Smith, who had so far failed to maintain possession of the Quaffle for longer than a minute, was suffering from something called "Loser's Lurgy."

"Hagrid," he said, in a deep, grave voice. "So very sorry to hear of your loss."

'Why will she be in there?' asked Ron anxiously, hurrying to keep up.

"What on earth is more important than this memory, Harry?" asked Hermione.

'How did you do?' asked Ron, hurrying towards Harry. '1 think 1 felt something the last time I tried - a kind of tingling in my feet.'

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"At least you can Apparate, though!" said Ron tensely. "You'll have no trouble come July!"

"Are we going to bury him here, Hagrid, in your garden?"

There was a note of badly suppressed glee in Rons voice; Harry could tell he was nothing short of thrilled that McLaggen had messed up so badly. Harry lay there, staring up at the patch of light on the ceiling, his recently mended skull not hurting, precisely, but feeling slightly tender underneath all the bandaging.

"Well, here goes," said Harry, and he raised the little bottle and look a carefully measured gulp.

Harry looked down at the map, disappointed, but rallied almost at once.