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"Secondly, the castle is a stronghold of ancient magic. Undoubtedly Voldemort had penetrated many more of its secrets than most of the students who pass through the place, but he may have felt that there were still mysteries to unravel, stores of magic to tap.

That's good,' said Ron fervently. 'How do I look?'

'Maybe 1 could ask if 1 can have them with her?' said Ron eagerly.

'Was this potion within date?' asked Slughorn, now eyeing Ron with professional interest. 'They can strengthen, you know, the longer they're kept.'

Voldemort looked coldly surprised. "A job I do not want? On the contrary, Dumbledore, I want it very much."

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"You're going about it the wrong way," said Hermione. "Only you can get the memory, Dumbledore says. That must mean you can persuade Slughorn where other people can’t. It's not a question of slipping him a potion, anyone could do that —"

"Yes, Harry Potter!" said Dobby at once, his great eyes shining with excitement. "And if Dobby does it wrong, Dobby will throw himself off the topmost tower, Harry Potter!"

"— I daresay Burke paid her a pittance but there you are. . . . Pretty, isn't it? And again, all kinds of powers attributed to it, though I just keep it nice and safe. . . ."

Harry did not answer for a moment. Then, slowly but surely, an exhilarating sense of infinite opportunity stole through him; he felt as though he could have done anything, anything at all... and getting the memory from Slughorn seemed suddenly not only pos-sible, but positively easy. . . .

Hagrid stopped in his tracks, a familiar, guilty expression on what was visible of his face above his tangled black beard.

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"Whose memory is it?" he asked. "Mine," said Dumbledore.

"Where are we burying him?" he asked. "The forest?"

"There won't be any need for that," said Harry hastily.

He found Ron and Hermione in the Great Hall, already halfway through an early lunch.

Harry did not need telling twice; he and Hermione both hurried off; Hagrid's and Filch's raised voices echoed behind them as they ran. They passed Peeves near the turning into Gryffindor Tower, but he was streaking happily toward the source of the yelling, cackling and calling,

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"They do not call me 'Tom' anymore," he said. "These days, 1 am known as —"

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"What are you talking about?" said Hermione, laughing. "You've never taken any!"

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He laid the map upon his bed and he and Ron leaned over it, searching.

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There was a nasty hissing noise as Filch swelled with fury; Mrs. Norris had arrived, unseen, and was twisting herself sinuously around Filch's skinny ankles.,

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"It isn't Lavender," said Hermione wearily.;

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