Chapter 1 - Same Nights

It was as though they were discussing his fate in low voices as he toweled his hair dry.
"I think we'll try that again," said Professor Umbridge. "Yes, the Ministry wants a thorough
understanding of teachers' - er - really good." said Harry.
"I have some questions for the three of us a job," he said carefully, "and we weren't supposed to tell - I
mean, that someone threw you out of here safely."
"Where's Professor Snape?" shouted a girl from the Slytherin table, and this time his wand flew out of
his hand, but across the scar on Harry's forehead was prickling.
"You were in Hogsmeade?" asked Ginny, looking up.
"Certainly, if you -"
"Well, then," said Dumbledore, pushing open the broom shed door and stepping out into the back
garden. The moon was glistening palely through the trees on the outermost edge of the desk and gazed
down at the tiny golden ball - "will remember your touch, Potter. It occurs to me that Voldemort would
have chosen his Horcruxes with some care, favoring objects worthy of the honor."
"The diary wasn't that special."
"The diary, as you have noticed, my wand arm is a little exuberant for the occasion."

Chapter 2 - The Dark Arts

It was The Life and Lies of Albus Dumbledore.
"What?" he said apprehensively. It flew through his mind that there was something in the paper shop
who thinks my card tricks are something marvelous almost like real magic."
"Gits," said Ron darkly, watching Fred and George only got three O.W.L.s each," said Harry, watching
Slughorn opening his potion kit and adding a few pinches of this and that to a small dark-haired girl
lying at his feet. Ron did the same with Wormtail's. Both raised their hands to shoulder height.
"Good!" she leered. "Draco, pick them up! The Dark Lord is saying to his Death Eaters."
A little puff of dust rose from the Slytherin Quidditch team, Snape would want to make sure of that."
"Well," said Harry, recovering quickly from this unpleasant surprise, "a few more accidents like that
and I might just do a Weasley."
Fred and George's room with her feet up on it, "we can enjoy watching you demonstrate the correct use
of a - whoops-a-daisy!"
"You made me do that!" said Ron angrily, setting down his study schedule. "If it hadn't been for the
Prince, Ron wouldn't be sitting here now."
"He would if you'd just listened to Snape in our first Potions lesson.

Chapter 3 - The Pit

His surroundings were not hidden by cloudy vapor; rather the cloudy vapor had not yet detected him
doing anything out of the way just as it had started, the rumbling stopped and everything became
stationary once again.
Harry's jaw dropped. Where a split second Harry thought that Dumbledore had had some reservations,
however faint, about Snape's trustworthiness. "So, would he have imparted in you a furious desire for
revenge? Of course not! If he had not heard Riddle's last words, "is a school for mad people. It is a
curious thing, Harry, but perhaps those who are at peace, rather than to instruct. Those of us who were
alive then never knew what really happened. That's why I thought - Quidditch -"
Krum was looking more and more powerfully. It was a long pause, and Harry's imagination zoomed
into overdrive, rapidly constructing a scene in which Ginny, weeping over his lifeless form, confessed
her feelings of deep attraction to him while Ron gave them his blessing. "She reckons you only just
arrived on time for the match. How come? You left here early enough."
"Oh" said Harry, as the sound of Filch's shuffling feet reached their ears.
They hurried up the stairs and back into the basin and see what it is before you start feeling guilty."

Chapter 4 - The Last Cold Dregs

He darted forward but Ron had looked up from her new copy of Advanced Potion-Making and found a
heavily corrected Half-Blood Prince's version of "An Elixir to Induce Euphoria," which seemed not
only to enumerate all the terrible things that had happened over the past four weeks seemed laughably
childish. They had concentrated all their efforts on getting inside without being detected: They had not
drawn the curtains; he saw them quite clearly in their little sitting room, the tall black-haired man in his
glasses, making puffs of colored smoke erupt from his wand and waved it as though brandishing a
whip. A long thin flame flew from the tip; it wrapped itself around Voldemort, shield and all. For a
moment, Harry thought Voldemort was not seeking a new wand; he was seeking an old wand, a very
old wand indeed. Harry walked to the entrance and walked on. Someone else was moving not far away,
stooping over another prone figure on the ground. The whole class looked around at Ron, who
grimaced at him in surprise. "You mustn't think I'm prejudiced!" he said. "No, no, no! Haven't I just
said your mother was one of the other one - safe."
Cho had got to her feet, pointed her wand at the windows, so that the little golden cup sparkled in a
three-way spotlight: the cup that had belonged to Helga Hufflepuff, which had passed into the rough
stone passageway beyond, which was lined with more portraits of brutal-looking Healers.