Adventures Of Tom Sawyer Essay Example for Free

Adventures Of Tom Sawyer Essay I will never forget the time I spent with Tom Sawyer, Huck Finn and Joe Harper on Jackson’s Island. We have always wanted to become pirates. Now that we have found the exact opportunity – Tom being scolded by Aunt Polly and Joe Harper having been whipped by his mother for tasting sour cream – we decided that it is now time to pursue our dream to become real pirates. In that way, we will be able to live a life of freedom and fame, and the whole town will hear about our names. The people who mistreated us will also feel sorry for what they had done. Our rendezvous is Jackson’s Island, which is three miles below the town of St. Petersburg. We met there at midnight. That became the start of our lives as pirates of the sea. Personally, I loved the idea of running away from home. I never had to go to school anymore. I didn’t need to follow rules anymore. And as Tom promised often, all we will need to do is to steal, kill and get rich. So when midnight came, the four of us met at Jackson’s Island. Each of us came with something stolen. Tom brought stolen ham, Joe had a one sided bacon and Huck had a skillet and some tobacco leaves. I brought stolen matches from my mom’s drawer. I figured that if we would stay long in the Island, we would need fire for our daily needs. Tom applauded me for bringing some matches. In those days, matches are not commonly used in St. Petersburg. Very few people had them. We found a raft about a hundred yards away. So we decided to have some fun with it and as usual, Tom was the captain. He commanded our pirate ship as we all pretended to be real pirates, using terms we have heard from sailors as well as lines from books we have read. We decided to settle in a virgin forest about two hundred yards above the head of the island. There, we spread our belongings and also built a huge bonfire. We cooked our ham, bacon and corn pone by roasting them in the fire. We ate and ate until we were so full. There was nothing like it. If the other boys in the village saw us that way, they would greatly envy us without a doubt. There was nothing like a pirate’s life. After eating, we lay down on the grass and talked for a while. Tom started to tell us stories about pirates – how extravagant they are, and how rich and famous. We started to ask him many questions about becoming a pirate. He simply told us that all we had to do was steal belongings and kill other people. In the midst of the conversation, Huck Finn began to smoke tobacco! I instantly followed him with that activity and smoked tobacco as well. Tom and Joe simply looked silently at us in amazement. For a long time now, they had wanted to learn how to smoke, but never had the opportunity. Only Huck and I could smoke. After much talking, we all fell asleep one by one. That was our first night as â€Å"pirates†. Tom was the first to wake up in the morning. The first thing we did was to strip ourselves off our clothes and bathe in the sea. After that, we got ready for breakfast. Joe began to slice bacon and would have cooked it, but Tom and Huck asked him to wait. I was the one who caught a couple of sun perch and catfish! We instantly cooked those fishes along with the bacon and they tasted so good. Then after eating, we lay down on the sand for a long time. Sadness started to creep in, but nobody dared to speak about it. Nobody wants to be accused of being a chicken heart. I think Tom was starting to feel homesick too, but he didn’t want to show his feelings. Our growing homesickness was interrupted when we saw a ferry boat afar off, shooting cannon over the water. This is a sign that somebody in the village got drowned. Shooting cannons over the water made drowned people come up to the top. For a while we wondered who got drowned, and then Tom suddenly had a brilliant thought. We are the ones who got drowned! The entire village was searching for us. Our parents missed us, and the other boys surely heard about us. The girls we admired are now talking about us too! We spent the rest of the entire day swimming, talking, eating and exploring the island. When night came, everyone went to sleep. When I woke up in the morning, Joe and Huck were still sleeping. Tom, however, was nowhere to be found. I looked at the spot where he slept and found a note. I opened the note and it read like this: â€Å"If I don’t come back by breakfast time, all my things are yours.. † Upon reading this, I woke Joe and Huck and showed them the note. We waited for Tom for about an hour but he never came. Huck supposed that Tom felt homesick and went back to Aunt Polly’s house. However, Joe defended Tom and said that he knew his friend would never do such a disgrace. Tom, according to Joe, knew the code of pirates and he is too proud to quit and go home just like that. I told Joe to start cooking breakfast and if Tom never returned by the time we ate breakfast, all his things will be ours. But just before we started to eat, Tom appeared dramatically and entered the camp. He had some news for us. He had â€Å"spied† on St. Petersburg and discovered that the whole town was talking about us – the lost pirates. If our bodies were not found until Saturday, our funeral will be pronounced that very Sunday. We instantly felt like heroes. Then suddenly I had a brilliant idea. What if we could make a comeback on the day of our funeral? Tom and the other pirates liked it very much. Tom slept until noon and when afternoon came, we started to plan our appearance at our funeral on Sunday. That Sunday, while the entire town mourned for us and as the minister preached his eulogy for the â€Å"dead boys†, we were hiding in an unused gallery behind the church as we listened to everything that was happening. Suddenly, we made our appearance to the crowd. Needless to say, everybody welcomed us dramatically. Our loved ones cried with joy. We were the talk of the town for several months and I will never ever forget it. It was the best day of our lives. Part 2: The Commentary The pirate boys led by Tom Sawyer built a community that they have entirely created amongst themselves. It is a community apart from the regular life they have known at St. Petersburg. We can safely say that Tom, Joe and Huck built their pirate community based on their childhood imagination. As young people in a simple town, where modern industrialized America has not yet fully penetrated, these three boys have an inclination towards idealism. Their idea of a perfect life is total freedom. Thus, they chose to pretend as pirates and imitate the pirate’s code of conduct in order to experience the life that they have always dreamed about. To them, escaping to Jackson’s Island is more of an escape from reality. Although they have romantic idealisms as pirates in a free world, the reality remains that in the town of St. Petersburg, they are children and they are not as powerful as they suppose themselves to be. Tom Sawyer is just a kid who can get whipped by Aunt Polly any time of day. He is a student who needs to go to school and study his lessons. He is part of society. So as we have stated, going to Jackson’s Island is an escape from reality. The boys thought that they can build a community on their own – apart from society, authority and responsibility. This thought is evident in Tom’s opening thoughts in Chapter 13: â€Å"Tom’s mind was made up now. He was gloomy and desperate. He was a forsaken, friendless boy, he said; nobody loved him; when they found out what they had driven him to, perhaps they would be sorry†¦Yes, they had forced him to it at last: he would lead a life of crime. There was no choice. † (Twain, 1876). In the community that the boys built, each one played an important role. Tom was the leader because he was the one who provided the vision and insight about the life of a pirate. So in essence, he was providing direction for all of them. Almost everything they did during their getaway in the island was a product of Tom Sawyer’s imagination – based on what he read from books and his own thoughts and romantic dreams. Joe Harper, meanwhile was more of a follower. He also executes Tom’s orders. It is evident that Joe admired Tom for everything that he was. Joe once said: No, Toms true-blue, Huck, and hell come back. He wont desert. He knows that would be a disgrace to a pirate, and Toms too proud for that sort of thing. Hes up to something or other. Now I wonder what? (Twain, 1876) Huck, meanwhile, is a symbol of the free life that Tom and Joe have always longed for. Huck didn’t need to go to school. He is a waif, a vagabond and he is not part of society. The other boys envied Huck because he can smoke tobacco while most boys in St. Petersburg – even Tom and Joe – cannot do that act. Although Tom was the leader, we can say that Huck is the role model for the entire community they have built for themselves. If, for Tom and Joe, the island getaway was an escape from reality, it was a normal day for Huck. He was probably used to going to different places all by himself. The simple community of Huck Finn, Joe Harper and Tom Sawyer was similar to adult communities in that they have a single driving force – the desire to live a life of freedom. If we look at history, almost all communities started with that single driving force. In any given community, there should be a leader, a follower and a symbol of inspiration. As these traits are respectively found in each of our characters, we may say that Tom, Huck and Joe are a perfect embodiment of American idealism. Although their deeds were shown in boyish manner, they represent a greater dimension which reflects the reality of adult life. As the saying goes, â€Å"Men are simply boys who grew up†. Works Cited: Twain, Mark (1993). The Adventures Of Tom Sawyer [electronic version]. New York: Project Gutenberg Ebooks. (Original work published 1876)

The Federal Government And The Three Strikes Law Criminology Essay

The Federal Government And The Three Strikes Law Criminology Essay Between 1993 and 1995, 26 states and the federal government passed the Three Strikes Law. Under this law, a person who is convicted of three felonies is given a mandatory 25-to-life sentence. A felony is defined as any crime punishable by 1 year or more in prison (Messerli, 2006). This law was passed in reaction to the murder of 12 year old, Polly Klass. She was kidnapped and murdered by a paroled repeat offender. Unlike the federal laws, the three-strikes laws vary by quite a bit from state to state. However, under all federal and state three-strikes law if someone is convicted of a crime three times, there is no judiciary discretion in sentencing these repeat offenders (Unknown). This means that in all cases the offender must go to jail for 25 years to life if convicted of three felonies, no matter the seriousness crime. Under the statute, a serious violent felony includes murder, manslaughter, sex offenses, kidnapping, robbery, and any offense punishable by 10 years or more which includes as an element the use of force or that, by its nature, involves a significant risk of force. The statute also enumerates certain non-qualifying felonies, including unarmed robbery offenses and arsons that posed no threat to human life (Unknown). The purpose of the three-strikes law is to put criminals out of society to keep them from committing future crimes (Roy, 2010). Pros and Cons While researching this topic I have found multiple pros and cons of the three strikes law. Some of the pros that were mentioned include: repeat offenders will stay in prison; can deter offenders who have had two felony convictions from committing another crime; and it only applies to convictions. The first pro of the Three Strikes law is that repeat offenders will stay in prison for at least 25 years after their third conviction. If criminals choose to continue to break the law then will have to pay for their crimes. These criminals will not have a fourth chance to break the law. The Three Strikes law is a way to ensure justice and to stop criminals from committing more crimes. According to Adam Gelb, director of the Pew Centers Public Safety Performance Project (2008), There is no question that putting violent and chronic offenders behind bars lowers the crime rate and provides punishment that is well deserved. The second pro of the Three Strikes law is that it might deter offenders who have been convicted two felonies from committing a third crime. This law is known by all, especially by criminals. Criminals will know the punishment before they decide to commit crimes. The hope is that this will discourage criminals from committing any crimes major and minor, from armed robbery and rape to burglary. According to the Bureau of Justice Statistics 43 percent of felony probationer and 62 percent of the parolees will be rearrested within three years after beginning supervision (Unknown, 2010). The third pro of the Three Strikes law is that it applies only to convictions. This law does not apply to arrests of a person is found not guilty. However, three convictions will send criminals to prison for 25 years to life. Chances are that these criminals have committed more than three crimes, but for whatever reason they were never convicted. There are also multiple arguments against the Three Strikes law. Some of the cons that were mentioned include: a one-size-fits all form of justice; it can be considered unjust depending on the particular crime; and it arguably violates the Eighth Amendment of the Constitution (Kitchen, 2009). The first con of the Three Strikes law is that some see this as a one size fits all form of justice (Kitchen, 2009). Some believe that this law destroys the flexibility of the courts and the judge. It is no longer up to the judge to decide if the offender can be rehabilitated. Under the Three Strikes law, the offender will automatically go to prison after the third conviction. Criminal rehabilitation has many positive benefits and can impact the lives of many inmates as well as their families (Wright, 2007). The second con of the Three Strikes law is that it can be considered unjust depending on the particular crime. In some cases the third conviction may not be a violent crime but if they are convicted of a third felony they would receive the same 25 years to life sentence as if the crime were a violent act. Some believe that this punishment does not fit the crime. If a newly convicted criminal has a record of two prior felony (serious crime) convictions, the judge had to impose the maximum sentence for the third crime (Driscoll, 2003). The third con of the Three Strikes law is that it arguably violates the Eighth Amendment. The Eight Amendment prohibits the use of Cruel and unjust punishment by the state. Many argue that certain clients prosecutions violate this amendment. According to N.C. Aizenman at the Washington Post (2008), when it comes to preventing repeat offenses by nonviolent criminals- who make up about half of the incarcerated population- alternative punishments such as community supervision and mandatory drug counseling that are far less expensive may prove just as or more effective than jail time. The fourth and final con of the Three Strikes Law is the expense. Prisons are already overcrowded and some argue that there is not enough room to house additional inmates. Prison is expensive. There are also trial and court fees that many times must be covered by the state and its taxpayers. It cost as average of $23,876 to imprison someone in 2005 (Aizenman, 2008). This includes costs for food, shelter, prison staff and many other items. Student Position In my opinion, this is a great program and the pros far outweigh the cons. People should refrain from breaking the law if they do not want to spend the next 25 years of their life if prison. There are many arguments that the Three Strikes law does not have any effect on the crime rate. However, most crimes are committed by previous felons. Without this law I believe that these criminals will continue to break the law until they are stopped. This law may be the only thing that will stop them. How many people need to get hurt before we have the right to put these criminals in prison where they belong? Conclusion According to Mike Reynolds (2006) Californias total crime rate in 1993, the year prior to adoption of Three Strikes, was fourth highest among all states. By 1999, Californias total crime rate dropped to 29th among the states. During the same period, Californias homicide rate dropped from fourth highest to 19th among the states. These statistics clearly suggest that Californias falling crime rate was not just part of a national trend, or a result of demographics or economic factors as opponents have suggested. 041106CACrimeRate

To Kill A Mocking Bird :: To Kill a Mockingbird Essays

Discrimination, this is a word that is heard today and was heard especially in the southern U.S. in the early 1900’s. In the novel To Kill a Mockingbird by Harper Lee, the character Scout who is portrayed as a Tomboy and coincidentally the author witnessed numerous times to the outwardly prejudice people of Maycomb Co., Alabama as a very young girl. These prejudices that were heard throughout the entire novel are separated into three categories: racism, sexism, and lifestyles discrimination. Racial discrimination was the most prominent, which as Harper Lee pointed out, was not just limited to the Caucasian population of Maycomb. One of these instances was when Lula commented on the Finch children coming to a historically all black church. Another less prominent form of this reverse discrimination would be the fact that the African people of Maycomb tended to assume that all white people in Maycomb had a deep hatred for blacks, and so they also treated all of them as prejudiced people. But, the black population, by far was discriminated against the most. For instance the many times Scout was told her father defended niggers, and was a nigger lover. One of these times would be when Francis states, "I guess it ain't your fault if Uncle Atticus is nigger lover"(83). And although Scout didn't truly know the meanings of these statements seemingly rooted into the core of many Maycomb residents, she did sense that they were not statements of praise and accomplishment. Another type of prejudice in the novel would be the sexism and resulting stereotypical views of how women and men should act, dress, and what they can and cannot do. A good example of this being the many times a neighbor of the Finches’, Mrs. Dubose made statements like, "What are you doing in overalls. If you don't start acting proper you will end up serving tables"(101). This would consider being the vast majority of this sexism was aimed at women and girls. They were constantly told what was proper and lady-like and what they should dress like to look like a lady. These so called ideals were not only reinforced and taught by men but also by women. Scout was one of the minorities of people who didn't conform to these ideals and was therefore ridiculed by the closed-minded people of Maycomb. The third and final form of prejudice is actually a combination of the other two types of prejudice, this prejudice being the discrimination against non-conforming lifestyles.

Natures Superb Artistry: Angels Camp :: Free Descriptive Essay About A Place

Nature's Superb Artistry: Angels Camp The reason for my trip to the caverns in Angels Camp is not glorious or inspirational. My husband, Joe, and I own a timeshare and we had to use up some of our points or lose them. We usually go to places on the beach or skiing resorts. Unfortunately those resorts were not available on such short notice. Therefore, we were stuck with going to Angels Camp. I began doing some research on Angels Camp, looking for some exciting things we could do there. Yet, I wasn't thrilled by what I found. There were only a few entertainment choices and most of them sounded boring and strictly for senior citizens. We could pan for gold, visit caverns or participate in the annual Grape Stomp. I had prepared myself for the reality of a laid back, uneventful weekend. Thankfully, I was proven wrong. By the time we left the sleepy town of Angels Camp, population 3,000, we vowed that we would be back soon. We had a wonderful, down home, friendly experience. Everyone that we encountered was pleasant and welc oming, the food was great and the caverns were amazing. We even enjoyed watching people pull up their pants and use their feet to stomp grapes. Angels Camp has a magical, inviting spirit. The main street is about two blocks long and it looks like a scene from an old western movie. There are even a few old time saloons. The forest surrounding Angels Camp was beautiful and invigorating. When I was walking around outside, I took a deep breath and was exhilarated by the smell of pine trees. The shops were quaint and the shopkeepers/owners took the time to personally get to know each customer. Overall, the atmosphere and surroundings of Angels Camp were one of a kind. The locals seemed proud of their caverns and encouraged us to visit them. Joe is somewhat of a Discovery Channel freak and he figured this would be his chance to participate in an exploration similar to the ones he had seen on T.V. As we drove up the long, winding road towards the cavern, we had no idea what to expect. When we pulled into the driveway all that we could see was a small parking lot and a wooden cabin about the size of a small house. I was looking everywhere for the cavern, but it was nowhere in sight.

Macbeths Ambition :: essays research papers

Macbeth’s Ambition Political ambition undermines man’s loyalty. In the play, Macbeth decides to kill his king because of his ambition for position. At the beginning of the play, he portrays himself as a noble person. He fights in the battle against Norway and proves his loyalty; however, as soon as the witches prophesize that Macbeth “shall be king hereafter'; (1.3.53), he is not longer trustworthy. Ambition for power starts creeping into his head. After Macbeth’s internal conflict over whether or not to kill Duncan, he decides to do it quickly (1.7.3) in order to hasten the predictions. He decides to kill the king because he wants to extend his power all over the country by becoming the new monarch. He desires to be more wealthy and respected by the nobility as well as by the common people. Becoming king represents the highest rang in the political pyramid. The act of murdering is the only way to make his dreams come true because Duncan’s fair and prosperous rule over Scotland experience the support of the whole population. As Malcom and Donalbain fly to England, he automatically takes possession of the throne. Macbeth displays political ambition first of all because of his wife. After she reads her husband’s letter about his meeting with the witches, she suggests for Macbeth to kill Duncan so she could be queen. At the beginning Macbeth hesitates to talk about such a thing and even lists the reason not to kill: he is his king, his uncle and his guest. Not completely sure about it and victim of his own desires for power he finally accepts Lady Macbeth’s plan for murdering the ruler of Scotland. This decision portrays Macbeth’s dirty morality and easily manageable personality. Macbeth’s character is a clear example of how ambition corrupts man’s personality. After a brief period of hesitation, he finally decides to take the infamous way of murder in order to make his political desires come true. His ambition, stronger than the moral and social condemnation of killing, becomes his sole motive. The American philosopher David Young goes further in this analysis and sees in Macbeth how “the act of regicide is a ready means of illustrating the genesis of tragic structure in struggles for power'; (Young 318).

Frankenstein Essay

Frankenstein was originally written by Mary Shelley in 1818. In 1818 scientists were discovering many different scientific revolutions. One thing they discovered was vaccination. People at that time were both very scared and excited about this. Shelley’s novel was inspired by Galvini who used electricity to move a late criminal’s hand jaw. Also Mary was influenced by her father and her husband’s view of life, who were both radical thinkers. Mary’s story was brought to life after long days and nights during her holiday when she entered a horror competition. She wrote her initial draft from a nightmare she had. Without Galvini, the holiday, nightmare, her father and her husband then this story wouldn’t have been brought to life. In the play which is adapted by Phillip Pullman. We feel empathy and sympathy for various characters throughout. The two main characters I feel sympathy and empathy towards are Frankenstein and the monster. We feel sorry for these characters in different places in the play. But who do we really feel sorry for? We initially feel sorry for Frankenstein. For example Frankenstein had a lack of care for his own health. For instance he spent all his money on chemicals and not for himself. We know this because in the play it quotes â€Å"No, no fire I keep it cold on purpose- it’s the only way to preserve my specimens. † This implies that Frankenstein thinks his specimens are more important than his own health and well-being that he resulted into living in the cold. This also shows how much Frankenstein was devoted into creating the monster and didn’t let the cold stop him from achieving his goals of creating life. It also shows how much he loves the monster. This makes the reader feel sympathy towards Frankenstein as it makes them feel like Frankenstein how he put his own health at major risk just because of his life ambition and has resulted to adapt to the cold. We also feel sorry for victor because of the death of William. For example â€Å"You killed my little brother! Is that love? Is that good will? † This make the reader feel sympathy for victor as he’s lost a loved one who was killed by the person he had created. On the other hand it makes us understand upon victors opinion towards the monster as everything victor witnesses and everything the monster does it appears evil. This makes it acceptable for victor’s opinion towards the monster. However it’s not the monsters fault because when the monster was born the first thing he received was hatred and the more hatred he got the more it drove him to be evil. The monster was judged by his looks which appeared evil and this drove him to do evil actions which led the monster looking even bad. I also blame victor for playing the role of god. As victor has no right in creating life and death and questioning God by saying â€Å"if lightning can kill someone it can bring someone alive. † Victor knew that he had neglected Elizabeth because he was so preoccupied with creating the monster. In the novel it quotes â€Å"No Elizabeth don’t- you’re right, I’ll come back with you but my work. You don’t understand it’s reached I’ve been working towards for six years. † This tell us that Frankenstein had realised how he had treated Elizabeth with rudeness, he instantly agrees to go see his father but insists on finishing the monster as he had been working on it for 6 years. This makes the reader feel sympathy for victor because he had devoted most of his life on the monster and at the end everything goes wrong. On the other hand what was the purpose of creating life and this also showed how he thought the monster was more important than his very own father at the time of need, he could have took a break as he has been working constantly for 6 years and to see his father who was at his death bed. On the other hand we also feel empathy for the monster. For example the monster was unloved from the start. For example â€Å"But you’re not what I thought you’d be. † This suggests that Frankenstein’s was disappointed in his very own creature he has devoted 6 years for and didn’t accept the monster the way he was but instead judged him on his appearance as soon as he laid eyes on him. Frankenstein prejudged the monster by looking at him to be ruthless and evil but it also shows that Frankenstein wanted the best for his monster and wanted it to be perfect like an angel. The word angel suggest that Frankenstein wanted pure beauty but instead he discriminated the monster which made the monster feel neglected and disowned, he had a perfect deal of what a human should be. People judged the monster on his appearance and not his personality. I know this because â€Å"Felix runs in, sees the monster apparently attacking her and Agatha struggling to be free and without hesitation seizes the musket. † The stage direction suggests that soon s Felix comes in and he sees the monster and tries to shoot him because he apparently thought the monster was attacking Agatha. The word â€Å"without hesitation† suggests that as soon as Felix saw the monster and judged he was up to evil and he quickly got the musket and didn’t even consider the situation. Also the word â€Å"apparently† suggests that Felix prejudged the monster and the entire situation as he thought the monster was hurting Agatha but on the other hand the monster was trying to get through to Agatha as that was his only hope for a friend but Felix never listened and persisted into believing that the monster was spiteful. This make the reader feel sympathy toward =s the monster because he had found a friend that had looked at his inner beauty and didn’t judge him but it was ruined but a person who didn’t see that inner beauty and just thought plain evil of the monster. We feel sorry for the monster because all he wants is to be loved. In the play it quotes â€Å"They’d throw stones and shouted harsh words to me but they had companions, fellows, friends. Couldn’t I find a friend? So I began to look. † This makes the audience feel empathy towards the monster because it makes us feel how harshly the monster was treated. He got hurt even more as he saw that everyone had friends. He wanted a friend. The quotation â€Å"Couldn’t I find a friend? † this suggests that the monster wanted someone to support him and a person who he can laugh with like the people who were laughing at him together. This makes the reader feel sympathy towards the monster because he is lonely and isolated. The writer at this moment makes us feel how people are judged without even finding out about that person and naming the monster monster it over reacts straight way and if someone heard that they would assume bad and keep their distance. As the word â€Å"monster† suggests evil and scary. The writer also wanted us to think about human nature. And how we look can play a big role in our life and the changes we want to make to ourselves to fit in. I believe that Mary Shelley the writer was trying to put across that the consequences of trying to play God and challenging the unknown. It also puts across about how you shouldn’t discriminate against someone cause of their appearance. Another thing that it puts across is love and how important role it plays in everyone’s life. In my opinion I feel more sympathy for the monster because Frankenstein had no right to play God and create a living creature because it is going against God by taking his power against him which is causing life and death also saying you are as superior as god as you are creating life. The monster didn’t want to be created and as it has no family or support Frankenstein’s duty was to take care of the monster and feed him but Frankenstein just prejudged the monster and disowned him. That’s what made the monster evil at that time. It’s not his fault for turning evil and does the actions he did. So in my opinion I feel sorrier for the monster.

Chapter 5 The Dementor

Tom woke Harry the next morning with his usual toothless grin and a cup of tea. Harry got dressed and was just persuading a disgruntled Hedwig to get back into her cage when Ron banged his way into the room, pulling a sweatshirt over his head and looking irritable. â€Å"The sooner we get on the train, the better,† he said. â€Å"At least I can get away from Percy at Hogwarts. Now he's accusing me of dripping tea on his photo of Penelope Clearwater. You know,† Ron grimaced, â€Å"his girlfriend. She's hidden her face under the frame because her nose has gone all blotchy†¦Ã¢â‚¬  â€Å"I've got something to tell you,† Harry began, but they were interrupted by Fred and George, who had looked in to congratulate Ron on infuriating Percy again. They headed down to breakfast, where Mr. Weasley was reading the front page of the Daily Prophet with a furrowed brow and Mrs. Weasley was telling Hermione and Ginny about a love potion she'd made as a young girl. All three of them were rather giggly. â€Å"What were you saying?† Ron asked Harry as they sat down. â€Å"Later,† Harry muttered as Percy stormed in. Harry had no chance to speak to Ron or Hermione in the chaos of leaving; they were too busy heaving all their trunks down the Leaky Cauldron's narrow staircase and piling them up near the door, with Hedwig and Hermes, Percy's screech owl, perched on top in their cages. A small wickerwork basket stood beside the heap of trunks, spitting loudly. â€Å"It's all right, Crookshanks,† Hermione cooed through the wickerwork. â€Å"I'll let you out on the train.† â€Å"You won't,† snapped Ron. â€Å"What about poor Scabbers, eh?† He pointed at his chest, where a large lump indicated that Scabbers was curled up in his pocket. Mr. Weasley, who had been outside waiting for the Ministry cars, stuck his head inside. â€Å"They're here, he said. â€Å"Harry, come on.† Mr. Weasley marched Harry across the short stretch of pavement toward the first of two old-fashioned dark green cars, each of which was driven by a furtive-looking wizard wearing a suit of emerald velvet. â€Å"In you get, Harry,† said Mr. Weasley, glancing up and down the crowded street. Harry got into the back of the car and was shortly joined by Hermione, Ron, and, to Ron's disgust, Percy. The journey to King's Cross was very uneventful compared with Harry's trip on the Knight Bus. The Ministry of Magic cars seemed almost ordinary. though Harry noticed that they could slide through gaps that Uncle Vernon's new company car certainly couldn't have managed. They reached King's Cross with twenty minutes to spare; the Ministry drivers found them trolleys, unloaded their trunks, touched their hats in salute to Mr. Weasley, and drove away, somehow managing to jump to the head of an unmoving line at the traffic lights. Mr. Weasley kept close to Harry's elbow all the way into the station. â€Å"Right then,† he said, glancing around them. â€Å"Let's do this in pairs, as there are so many of us. I'll go through first with Harry.† Mr. Weasley strolled toward the barrier between platforms nine and ten, pushing Harry's trolley and apparently very interested in the InterCity 125 that had just arrived at platform nine. With a meaningful look at Harry, he leaned casually against the barrier. Harry imitated him. In a moment, they had fallen sideways through the solid metal onto platform nine and three-quarters and looked up to see the Hogwarts Express, a scarlet steam engine, puffing smoke over a platform packed with witches and wizards seeing their children onto the train. Percy and Ginny suddenly appeared behind Harry. They were panting and had apparently taken the barrier at a run. â€Å"Ah, there's Penelope!† said Percy, smoothing his hair and going pink again. Ginny caught Harry's eye, and they both turned away to hide their laughter as Percy strode over to a girl with long, curly hair, walking with his chest thrown out so that she couldn't miss his shiny badge. Once the remaining Weasleys and Hermione had joined them, Harry and Mr. Weasley led the way to the end of the train, past packed compartments, to a carriage that looked quite empty. They loaded the trunks onto it, stowed Hedwig and Crookshanks in the luggage rack, then went back outside to say goodbye to Mr. and Mrs. Weasley. Mrs. Weasley kissed all her children, then Hermione, and finally Harry. He was embarrassed, but really quite pleased, when she gave him an extra hug. â€Å"Do take care, won't you Harry?† she said as she straightened up, her eyes oddly bright. Then she opened her enormous handbag and said, â€Å"I've made you all sandwiches. Here you are, Ron†¦no, they're not corned beef†¦ Fred? Where's Fred? Here you are dear†¦Ã¢â‚¬  â€Å"Harry,† said Mr. Weasley quietly, â€Å"come over here for a moment.† He jerked his head towards a pillar, and Harry followed him behind it, leaving the others crowded around Mrs. Weasley. â€Å"There's something I've got to tell you before you leave –† said Mr. Weasley in a tense voice. â€Å"It's all right, Mr. Weasley,† said Harry, â€Å"I already know.† â€Å"You know? How could you know?† â€Å"I — er — I heard you and Mrs. Wesley talking last night. I couldn't help hearing,† Harry added quickly. â€Å"Sorry –â€Å" â€Å"That's not the way I'd have chosen for you to find out,† said Mr. Weasley looking anxious.. â€Å"No — honestly it's OK. This way, you haven't broken your word to Fudge and I know what's going on.† â€Å"Harry, you must be scared — â€Å" â€Å"I'm not,† said Harry sincerely. â€Å"Really,† he added, because Mr. Weasley was looking disbelieving. â€Å"I'm not trying to be a hero, but seriously, Sirius Black can't be worse than Lord Voldemort, can he?† Mr. Weasley flinched at the sound of the name, but overlooked it. â€Å"Harry, I knew you were, well, made of stronger stuff than Fudge seems to think, and I'm obviously pleased that you're not scared, but –â€Å" â€Å"Arthur!† called Mrs. Weasley, who was now shepherding the rest onto the train. â€Å"Arthur, what are you doing? It's about to go!† â€Å"He's coming Molly!† said Mr. Weasley, but he turned back to Harry and kept talking in a lower and more hurried voice, â€Å"Listen, I want you to give me your word –â€Å" † — that I'll be a good boy and stay in the castle?† said Harry gloomily. â€Å"Not entirely,† said Mr. Weasley, who looked more serious than Harry had ever seen him. â€Å"Harry, swear to me you won't go looking for Black.† Harry stared, â€Å"What!† There was a loud whistle. Guards were walking along the train, slamming all the doors shut. â€Å"Promise me, Harry,† said Mr. Weasley, talking more quickly still, â€Å"that whatever happens –â€Å" â€Å"Why would I go looking for someone I know wants to kill me?† said Harry blankly. â€Å"Swear to me that whatever you might hear –â€Å" â€Å"Arthur, quickly!† cried Mrs. Weasley. Steam was billowing from the train it had started to move. Harry ran to the compartment door and Ron threw it open and stood back to let him on. They leaned out of the window and waved at Mr. and Mrs. Weasley until the train turned a corner and blocked them from view. â€Å"I need to talk to you in private,† Harry muttered to Ron and Hermione as the train picked up speed. â€Å"Go away, Ginny,† said Ron. â€Å"Oh, that's nice,† said Ginny huffily, and she stalked off. Harry, Ron, and Hermione set off down the corridor, looking for an empty compartment, but all were full except for the one at the very end of the train. This had only one occupant, a man sitting fast asleep next to the window. Harry, Ron, and Hermione checked on the threshold. The Hogwarts Express was usually reserved for students and they had never seen an adult there before, except for the witch who pushed the food cart. The stranger was wearing an extremely shabby set of wizard's robes that had been darned in several places. He looked ill and exhausted. Though quite young, his light brown hair was flecked with gray. â€Å"Who d'you reckon he is?† Ron hissed as they sat down and slid the door shut, taking the seats farthest away from the window. â€Å"Professor R. J. Lupin.† whispered Hermione at once. â€Å"How'd you know that?† â€Å"It's on his case,† she replied, pointing at the luggage rack over the man's head, where there was a small, battered case held together with a large quantity of neatly knotted string. The name Professor R. J. Lupin was stamped across one corner in peeling letters. â€Å"Wonder what he teaches?† said Ron, frowning at Professor Lupin's pallid profile. â€Å"That's obvious,† whispered Hermione. â€Å"There's only one vacancy, isn't there? Defense Against the Dark Arts.† Harry, Ron, and Hermione had already had two Defense Against the Dark Arts teachers, both of whom had lasted only one year. There were rumors that the job was jinxed. â€Å"Well, I hope he's up to it,† said Ron doubtfully. â€Å"He looks like on, good hex would finish him off, doesn't he? Anyway†¦Ã¢â‚¬  he turned to Harry, â€Å"what were you going to tell us?† Harry explained all about Mr. and Mrs. Wesley's argument and the warning Mr. Weasley had just given him. When he'd finished, Ron looked thunderstruck, and Hermione had her hands over her mouth. She finally lowered them to say, â€Å"Sirius Black escaped to come after you? Oh, Harry†¦you'll have to be really, really careful. don't go looking for trouble, Harry†¦Ã¢â‚¬  â€Å"I don't go looking for trouble,† said Harry, nettled. â€Å"Trouble usually finds me.† â€Å"How thick would Harry have to be, to go looking for a nutter who wants to kill him?† said Ron shakily. They were taking the news worse than Harry had expected. Both Ron and Hermione seemed to be much more frightened of Black than he was. â€Å"No one knows how he got out of Azkaban,† said Ron uncomfortably. â€Å"No one's ever done it before. And he was a top-security prisoner too.† â€Å"But they'll catch him, won't they?† said Hermione earnestly. â€Å"I mean, they've got all the Muggles looking out for him too†¦.† â€Å"What's that noise?† said Ron suddenly. A faint, tinny sort of whistle was coming from somewhere. They looked all around the compartment. â€Å"It's coming from your trunk, Harry,† said Ron, standing up and reaching into the luggage rack. A moment later he had pulled the Pocket Sneakoscope out from between Harry's robes. It was spinning very fast in the palm of Ron's hand and glowing brilliantly. â€Å"Is that a Sneakoscope?† said Hermione interestedly, standing up for a better look. â€Å"Yeah†¦mind you, it's a very cheap one,† Ron said. â€Å"It went haywire just as I was tying it to Errol's leg to send it to Harry.† â€Å"Were you doing anything untrustworthy at the time?† said Hermione shrewdly. â€Å"No! Well†¦I wasn't supposed to be using Errol. You know he's not really up to long journeys†¦but how else was I supposed to get Harry's present to him?† â€Å"Stick it back in the trunk,† Harry advised as the Sneakoscope whistled piercingly, â€Å"or it'll wake him up.† He nodded toward Professor Lupin. Ron stuffed the Sneakoscope into a particularly horrible pair of Uncle Vernon's old socks, which deadened the sound, then closed the lid of the trunk on it. â€Å"We could get it checked in Hogsmeade,† said Ron, sitting back down. â€Å"They sell that sort of thing in Dervish and Banges, magical instruments and stuff. Fred and George told me.† â€Å"Do you know much about Hogsmeade?† asked Hermione keenly. â€Å"I've read it's the only entirely non-Muggle settlement in Britain –â€Å" â€Å"Yeah, I think it is,† said Ron in an offhand sort of way. â€Å"but that's not why I want to go. I just want to get inside Honeydukes!† â€Å"What's that?† said Hermione. â€Å"It's this sweetshop,† said Ron, a dreamy look coming over his face, â€Å"where they've got everything†¦Pepper Imps — they make you smoke at the mouth — and great fat Chocoballs full of strawberry mousse and clotted cream, and really excellent sugar quills, which you can suck in class and just look like you're thinking what to write next?C† â€Å"But Hogsmeade's a very interesting place, isn't it?† Hermione pressed on eagerly. â€Å"In Sites of Historical Sorcery it says the inn was the headquarters for the 1612 goblin rebellion, and the Shrieking Shack's supposed to be the most severely haunted building in Britain –â€Å" â€Å"?C and massive sherbet balls that make you levitate a few inches off the ground while you're sucking them,† said Ron, who was plainly not listening to a word Hermione was saying. Hermione looked around at Harry. â€Å"Won't it be nice to get out of school for a bit and explore Hogsmeade?† â€Å"‘Spect it will,† said Harry heavily. â€Å"You'll have to tell me when you've found out.† â€Å"What d'you mean?† said Ron. â€Å"I can't go. The Dursleys didn't sign my permission form, and Fudge wouldn't either.† Ron looked horrified. â€Å"You're not allowed to come? But — no way — McGonagall or someone will give you permission –â€Å" Harry gave a hollow laugh. Professor McGonagall, head of Gryffindor house, was very strict. â€Å"?C or we can ask Fred and George, they know every secret passage out of the castle –â€Å" â€Å"Ron!† said Hermione sharply. â€Å"I don't think Harry should be sneaking out of the school with Black on the loose –â€Å" â€Å"Yeah, I expect that's what McGonagall will say when I ask of permission,† said Harry bitterly. â€Å"But if we're with him,† said Ron spiritedly to Hermione. â€Å"Black wouldn't dare –â€Å" â€Å"Oh, Ron, don't talk rubbish,† snapped Hermione. â€Å"Black's already murdered a whole bunch of people in the middle of a crowded street, do you really think he's going to worry about attacking Harry just because we're there?† She was fumbling with the straps of Crookshanks's basket as she spoke. â€Å"Don't let that thing out!† Ron said, but too late; Crookshanks leapt lightly from the basket, stretched, yawned, and sprang onto Ron's knees; the lump in Ron's pocket trembled and he shoved Crookshanks angrily away. â€Å"Get out of it!† â€Å"Ron, don't!† said Hermione angrily. Ron was about to answer back when Professor Lupin stirred. They watched him apprehensively, but he simply turned his head the other way, mouth slightly open, and slept on. The Hogwarts Express moved steadily north and the scenery outside the window became wilder and darker while the clouds overhead thickened overhead. People were chasing backwards and forwards past the door of their compartment. Crookshanks had now settled in an empty seat, his squashed face turned towards Ron, his yellow eyes on Ron's top pocket. At one o'clock the plump witch with the food cart arrived at the compartment door. D'you think we should wake him up?† Ron asked awkwardly, nodding towards Professor Lupin. â€Å"He looks like he could do with some food.† Hermione approached Professor Lupin cautiously. â€Å"Er — Professor?† she said. â€Å"Excuse me — Professor?† He didn't move. â€Å"Don't worry, dear,† said the witch, as she handed a large stack of cauldron cakes. â€Å"If he's hungry when he wakes, I'll be up front with the driver.† â€Å"I suppose he is asleep?† said Ron quietly, as the witch slid the compartment door closed. â€Å"I mean — he hasn't died, has he?† â€Å"No, no, he's breathing,† whispered Hermione, taking the cauldron cake Harry passed her. He might not be very good company, but Professor Lupin's presence in their compartment had its uses. Mid-afternoon, just as it had started to rain, blurring the rolling hills outside the window, they heard footsteps outside in the corridor again, and their three least favorite people appeared at the door: Draco Malfoy, flanked by his cronies, Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle. Draco Malfoy and Harry had been enemies ever since they had met on their very first journey to Hogwarts. Malfoy, who had a pale, pointed, sneering face, was in Slytherin house; he played Seeker on the Slytherin Quidditch team, the same position that Harry played on the Gryffindor team. Crabbe and Goyle seemed to exist to do Malfoy's bidding. They were both wide and muscly; Crabbe was taller, with a pudding-bowl haircut and a very thick neck; Goyle had short, bristly hair and long, gorilla arms. â€Å"Well, look who it is,† said Malfoy in his usual lazy drawl, pulling open the compartment door. â€Å"Potty and the Weasel.† Crabbe and Goyle chuckled trollishly. â€Å"I heard your father finally got his hands on some gold this summer, Weasley,† said Malfoy. â€Å"Did your mother die of shock?† Ron stood up so quickly he knocked Crookshanks's basket to the floor. Professor Lupin gave a snort. â€Å"Who's that?† said Malfoy, taking an automatic step backward as he spotted Lupin. â€Å"New teacher,† said Harry, who got to his feet, too, in case he needed to hold Ron back. â€Å"What were you saying, Malfoy?† Malfoy's pale eyes narrowed; he wasn't fool enough to pick a fight right under a teacher's nose. â€Å"C'mon,† he muttered resentfully to Crabbe and Goyle, and they disappeared. Harry and Ron sat down again, Ron massaging his knuckles. â€Å"I'm not going to take any crap from Malfoy this year,† he said angrily. â€Å"I mean it. If he makes one more crack about my family, I'm going to get hold of his head and –â€Å" Ron made a violent gesture in midair. â€Å"Ron,† hissed Hermione, pointing at Professor Lupin, â€Å"be careful†¦Ã¢â‚¬  But Professor Lupin was still fast asleep. The rain thickened as the train sped yet farther north; the windows were now a solid, shimmering gray, which gradually darkened until lanterns flickered into life all along the corridors and over the luggage racks. The train rattled, the rain hammered, the wind roared, but still, Professor Lupin slept. â€Å"We must be nearly there,† said Ron, leaning forward to look past Professor Lupin at the now completely black window. The words had hardly left him when the train started to slow down. â€Å"Great,† said Ron, getting up and walking carefully past Professor Lupin to try and see outside. â€Å"I'm starving. I want to get to the feast†¦Ã¢â‚¬  â€Å"We can't be there yet,† said Hermione, checking her watch. â€Å"So why're we stopping?† The train was getting slower and slower. As the noise of the pistons fell away, the wind and rain sounded louder than ever against the windows. Harry, who was nearest the door, got up to look into the corridor. All along the carriage, heads were sticking curiously out of their compartments. The train came to a stop with a jolt, and distant thuds and bangs told them that luggage had fallen out of the racks. Then, without warning, all the lamps went out and they were plunged into total darkness. â€Å"What's going on?† said Ron's voice from behind Harry. â€Å"Ouch!† gasped Hermione. â€Å"Ron, that was my foot!† Harry felt his way back to his seat. â€Å"D'you think we've broken down?† â€Å"Dunno†¦Ã¢â‚¬  There was a squeaking sound, and Harry saw the dim black outline of Ron, wiping a patch clean on the window and peering out. â€Å"There's something moving out there,† Ron said. â€Å"I think people are coming aboard†¦Ã¢â‚¬  The compartment door suddenly opened and someone fell painfully over Harry's legs. â€Å"Sorry! D'you know what's going on? Ouch! Sorry –â€Å" â€Å"Hullo, Neville,† said Harry, feeling around in the dark and pulling Neville up by his cloak. â€Å"Harry? Is that you? What's happening?† â€Å"No idea! Sit down –â€Å" There was a loud hissing and a yelp of pain; Neville had tried to sit on Crookshanks. â€Å"I'm going to go and ask the driver what's going on,† came Hermione's voice. Harry felt her pass him, heard the door slide open again, and then a thud and two loud squeals of pain. â€Å"Who's that?† â€Å"Who's that?† â€Å"Ginny?† â€Å"Hermione?† â€Å"What are you doing?† â€Å"I was looking for Ron –â€Å" â€Å"Come in and sit down –â€Å" â€Å"Not here!† said Harry hurriedly. â€Å"I'm here!† â€Å"Ouch!† said Neville. â€Å"Quiet!† said a hoarse voice suddenly. Professor Lupin appeared to have woken up at last. Harry could hear movements in his corner. None of them spoke. There was a soft, crackling noise, and a shivering light filled the compartment. Professor Lupin appeared to be holding a handful of flames. They illuminated his tired, gray face, but his eyes looked alert and wary. â€Å"Stay where you are.† he said in the same hoarse voice, and he got slowly to his feet with his handful of fire held out in front of him. But the door slid slowly open before Lupin could reach it. Standing in the doorway, illuminated by the shivering flames in Lupin's hand, was a cloaked figure that towered to the ceiling. Its face was completely hidden beneath its hood. Harry's eyes darted downward, and what he saw made his stomach contract. There was a hand protruding from the cloak and it was glistening, grayish, slimy-looking, and scabbed, like something dead that had decayed in water†¦. But it was visible only for a split second. As though the creature beneath the cloak sensed Harry's gaze, the hand was suddenly withdrawn into the folds of its black cloak. And then the thing beneath the hood, whatever it was, drew a long, slow, rattling breath, as though it were trying to suck something more than air from its surroundings. An intense cold swept over them all. Harry felt his own breath catch in his chest. The cold went deeper than his skin. It was inside his chest, it was inside his very heart†¦ Harry's eyes rolled up into his head. He couldn't see. He was drowning in cold. There was a rushing in his ears as though of water. He was being dragged downward, the roaring growing louder†¦ And then, from far away, he heard screaming, terrible, terrified, pleading screams. He wanted to help whoever it was, he tried to move his arms, but couldn't†¦a thick white fog was swirling around him, inside him — â€Å"Harry! Harry! Are you all right?† Someone was slapping his face. â€Å"W-what?† Harry opened his eyes; there were lanterns above him, and the floor was shaking — the Hogwarts Express was moving again and the lights had come back on. He seemed to have slid out of his seat onto the floor. Ron and Hermione were kneeling next to him, and above them he could see Neville and Professor Lupin watching. Harry felt very sick; when he put up his hand to push his glasses back on, he felt cold sweat on his face. Ron and Hermione heaved him back onto his seat. â€Å"Are you okay?† Ron asked nervously. â€Å"Yeah,† said Harry, looking quickly toward the door. The hooded creature had vanished. â€Å"What happened? Where's that — that thing? Who screamed?† â€Å"No one screamed,† said Ron, more nervously still. Harry looked around the bright compartment. Ginny and Neville looked back at him, both very pale. â€Å"But I heard screaming –â€Å" A loud snap made them all jump. Professor Lupin was breaking an enormous slab of chocolate into pieces. â€Å"Here,† he said to Harry, handing him a particularly large piece. â€Å"Eat it. It'll help.† Harry took the chocolate but didn't eat it. â€Å"What was that thing?† he asked Lupin. â€Å"A Dementor,† said Lupin, who was now giving chocolate to everyone else. â€Å"One of the Dementors of Azkaban.† Everyone stared at him. Professor Lupin crumpled up the empty chocolate wrapper and put it in his pocket. â€Å"Eat,† he repeated. â€Å"It'll help. I need to speak to the driver, excuse me†¦Ã¢â‚¬  He strolled past Harry and disappeared into the corridor. â€Å"Are you sure you're okay, Harry?† said Hermione, watching Harry anxiously. â€Å"I don't get it †¦ what happened?† said Harry, wiping more sweat off his face. â€Å"Well — that thing — the Dementor — stood there and looked around (I mean, I think it did, I couldn't see its face) — and you — you –â€Å" â€Å"I thought you were having a fit or something,† said Ron, who still looked scared. â€Å"You went sort of rigid and fell out of your seat and started twitching –â€Å" â€Å"And Professor Lupin stepped over you, and walked toward the Dementor, and pulled out his wand,† said Hermione, â€Å"and he said, ‘None of us is hiding Sirius Black under our cloaks. Go.' But the Dementor didn't move, so Lupin muttered something, and a silvery thing shot out of his wand at it, and it turned around and sort of glided away†¦Ã¢â‚¬  â€Å"It was horrible,† said Neville, in a higher voice than usual. â€Å"Did you feel how cold it got when it came in?† â€Å"I felt weird,† said Ron, shifting his shoulders uncomfortably. â€Å"Like I'd never be cheerful again†¦Ã¢â‚¬  Ginny, who was huddled in her corner looking nearly as bad as Harry felt, gave a small sob; Hermione went over and put a comforting arm around her. â€Å"But didn't any of you — fall off your seats?† said Harry awkwardly. â€Å"No,† said Ron, looking anxiously at Harry again. â€Å"Ginny was shaking like mad, though†¦Ã¢â‚¬  Harry didn't understand. He felt weak and shivery, as though he were recovering from a bad bout of flu; he also felt the beginnings of shame. Why had he gone to pieces like that, when no one else had? Professor Lupin had come back. He paused as he entered, looked around, and said, with a small smile, â€Å"I haven't poisoned that chocolate, you know†¦Ã¢â‚¬  Harry took a bite and to his great surprise felt warmth spread suddenly to the tips of his fingers and toes. â€Å"We'll be at Hogwarts in ten minutes,† said Professor Lupin. â€Å"Are you all right, Harry?† Harry didn't ask how Professor Lupin knew his name. â€Å"Fine,† he muttered, embarrassed. They didn't talk much during the remainder of the journey. At long last, the train stopped at Hogsmeade station, and there was a great scramble to get outside; owls hooted, cats meowed, and Neville's pet toad croaked loudly from under his hat. It was freezing on the tiny platform; rain was driving down in icy sheets. â€Å"Firs' years this way!† called a familiar voice. Harry, Ron, and Hermione turned and saw the gigantic outline of Hagrid at the other end of the platform, beckoning the terrified-looking new students forward for their traditional journey across the lake. â€Å"All right, you three?† Hagrid yelled over the heads of the crowd. They waved at him, but had no chance to speak to him because the mass of people around them was shunting them away along the platform. Harry, Ron, and Hermione followed the rest of the school along the platform and out onto a rough mud track, where at least a hundred stagecoaches awaited the remaining students, each pulled, Harry could only assume, by an invisible horse, because when they climbed inside and shut the door, the coach set off all by itself, bumping and swaying in procession. The coach smelled faintly of mold and straw. Harry felt better since the chocolate, but still weak. Ron and Hermione kept looking at him sideways, as though frightened he might collapse again. As the carriage trundled toward a pair of magnificent wrought iron gates, flanked with stone columns topped with winged boars, Harry saw two more towering, hooded Dementors, standing guard on either side. A wave of cold sickness threatened to engulf him again; he leaned back into the lumpy seat and closed his eyes until they had passed the gates. The carriage picked up speed on the long, sloping drive up to the castle; Hermione was leaning out of the tiny window, watching the many turrets and towers draw nearer. At last, the carriage swayed to a halt, and Hermione and Ron got out. As Harry stepped down, a drawling, delighted voice sounded in his ear. â€Å"You fainted, Potter? Is Longbottorn telling the truth? You actually fainted?† Malfoy elbowed past Hermione to block Harry's way up the stone steps to the castle, his face gleeful and his pale eyes glinting maliciously. â€Å"Shove off, Malfoy,† said Ron, whose jaw was clenched. â€Å"Did you faint as well, Weasley?† said Malfoy loudly. â€Å"Did the scary old Dementor frighten you too, Weasley?† â€Å"Is there a problem?† said a mild voice. Professor Lupin had just gotten out of the next carriage. Malfoy gave Professor Lupin an insolent stare, which took in the patches on his robes and the dilapidated suitcase. With a tiny hint of sarcasm in his voice, he said, â€Å"Oh, no — er — Professor,† then he smirked at Crabbe and Goyle and led them up the steps into the castle. Hermione prodded Ron in the back to make him hurry, and the three of them joined the crowd swarming up the steps, through the giant oak front doors, into the cavernous Entrance Hall, which was lit with flaming torches, and housed a magnificent marble staircase that led to the upper floors. The door into the Great Hall stood open at the right; Harry followed the crowd toward it, but had barely glimpsed the enchanted ceiling, which was black and cloudy tonight, when a voice called, â€Å"Potter! Granger! I want to see you both!† Harry and Hermione turned around, surprised. Professor McGonagall, Transfiguration teacher and head of Gryffindor House, was calling over the heads of the crowd. She was a stern looking witch who wore her hair in a tight bun; her sharp eyes were framed with square spectacles. Harry fought his way over to her with a feeling of foreboding: Professor McGonagall had a way of making him feel he must have done something wrong. â€Å"There's no need to look so worried — I just want a word in my office,† she told them. â€Å"Move along there, Weasley.† Ron stared as Professor McGonagall ushered Harry and Hermione away from the chattering crowd; they accompanied her across the entrance hall, up the marble staircase, and along a corridor. Once they were in her office, a small room with a large, welcoming fire, Professor McGonagall motioned Harry and Hermione to sit down. She settled herself behind her desk and said abruptly, â€Å"Professor Lupin sent an owl ahead to say that you were taken ill on the train, Potter.† Before Harry could reply, there was a soft knock on the door and Madam Pomfrey, the nurse, came bustling in. Harry felt himself going red in the face. It was bad enough that he'd passed out, or whatever he had done, without everyone making all this fuss. â€Å"I'm fine,† he said, â€Å"I don't need anything –â€Å" â€Å"Oh, it's you, is it?† said Madam Pomfrey, ignoring this and bending down to stare closely at him. â€Å"I suppose you've been doing something dangerous again?† â€Å"It was a Dementor, Poppy,† said Professor McGonagall. They exchanged a dark look, and Madam Pomfrey clucked disapprovingly. â€Å"Setting Dementors around a school, she muttered, pushing back Harry's hair and feeling his forehead. â€Å"He won't be the last one who collapses. Yes, he's all clammy. Terrible things, they are, and the effect they have on people who are already delicate –â€Å" â€Å"I'm not delicate!† said Harry crossly. â€Å"Of course you're not,† said Madam Pomfrey absentmindedly, now taking his pulse. â€Å"What does he need?† said Professor McGonagall crisply. â€Å"Bed rest? Should he perhaps spend tonight in the hospital wing?† â€Å"I'm fine!† said Harry, jumping up. The thought of what Draco Malfoy would say if he had to go to the hospital wing was torture. â€Å"Well, he should have some chocolate, at the very least,† said Madam Pomfrey, who was now trying to peer into Harry's eyes. â€Å"I've already had some,† said Harry. â€Å"Professor Lupin gave me some. He gave it to all of us.† â€Å"Did he, now?† said Madam Pomfrey approvingly. â€Å"So we've finally got a Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher who knows his remedies?† â€Å"Are you sure you feel all right, Potter?† Professor McGonagall said sharply. â€Å"Yes,† said Harry. â€Å"Very well. Kindly wait outside while I have a quick word with Miss Granger about her course schedule, then we can go down to the feast together.† Harry went back into the corridor with Madam Pomfrey, who left for the hospital wing, muttering to herself. He had to wait only a few minutes; then Hermione emerged looking very happy about something, followed by Professor McGonagall, and the three of them made their way back down the marble staircase to the Great Hall. It was a sea of pointed black hats; each of the long House tables was lined with students, their faces glimmering by the light of thousands of candles, which were floating over the tables in midair. Professor Flitwick, who was a tiny little wizard with a shock of white hair, was carrying an ancient hat and a three-legged stool out of the hall. â€Å"Oh,† said Hermione softly, â€Å"we've missed the Sorting!† New students at Hogwarts were sorted into Houses by trying on the Sorting Hat, which shouted out the House they were best suited to (Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, or Slytherin). Professor McGonagall strode off toward her empty seat at the staff table, and Harry and Hermione set off in the other direction, as quietly as possible, toward the Gryffindor table. People looked around at them as they passed along the back of the hall, and a few of them pointed at Harry. Had the story of his collapsing in front of the Dementor traveled that fast? He and Hermione sat down on either side of Ron, who had saved them seats. â€Å"What was all that about?† he muttered to Harry. Harry started to explain in a whisper, but at that moment the headmaster stood up to speak, and he broke off. Professor Dumbledore, though very old, always gave an impression of great energy. He had several feet of long silver hair and beard, half-moon spectacles, and an extremely crooked nose. He was often described as the greatest wizard of the age, but that wasn't why Harry respected him. You couldn't help trusting Albus Dumbledore, and as Harry watched him beaming around at the students, he felt really calm for the first time since the Dementor had entered the train compartment. â€Å"Welcome!† said Dumbledore, the candlelight shimmering on his beard. â€Å"Welcome to another year at Hogwarts! I have a few things to say to you all, and as one of them is very serious, I think it best to get it out of the way before you become befuddled by our excellent feast†¦Ã¢â‚¬  Dumbledore cleared his throat and continued, â€Å"As you will all be aware after their search of the Hogwarts Express, our school is presently playing host to some of the Dementors of Azkaban, who are here on Ministry of Magic business.† He paused, and Harry remembered what Mr. Weasley had said about Dumbledore not being happy with the Dementors guarding the school. â€Å"They are stationed at every entrance to the grounds,† Dumbledore continued, â€Å"and while they are with us, I must make it plain that nobody is to leave school without permission. Dementors are not to be fooled by tricks or disguises — or even Invisibility Cloaks,† he added blandly, and Harry and Ron glanced at each other. â€Å"It is not in the nature of a Dementor to understand pleading or excuses. I therefore warn each and every one of you to give them no reason to harm you. I look to the prefects, and our new Head Boy and Girl, to make sure that no student runs afoul of the Dementors,† he said. Percy, who was sitting a few seats down from Harry, puffed out his chest again and stared around impressively. Dumbledore paused again; he looked very seriously around the hall, and nobody moved or made a sound. â€Å"On a happier note,† he continued, I am pleased to welcome two new teachers to our ranks this year. â€Å"First, Professor Lupin, who has kindly consented to fill the post of Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher.† There was some scattered, rather unenthusiastic applause. Only those who had been in the compartment on the train with Professor Lupin clapped hard, Harry among them. Professor Lupin looked particularly shabby next to all the other teachers in their best robes. â€Å"Look at Snape!† Ron hissed in Harry's ear. Professor Snape, the Potions master, was staring along the staff table at Professor Lupin. It was common knowledge that Snape wanted the Defense Against the Dark Arts job, but even Harry, who hated Snape, was startled at the expression twisting his thin, sallow face. it was beyond anger: it was loathing. Harry knew that expression only too well; it was the look Snape wore every time he set eyes on Harry. â€Å"As to our second new appointment,† Dumbledore continued as the lukewarm applause for Professor Lupin died away. â€Å"Well, I am sorry to tell you that Professor Kettleburn, our Care of Magical Creatures teacher, retired at the end of last year in order to enjoy more time with his remaining limbs. However, I am delighted to say that his place will be filled by none other than Rubeus Hagrid, who has agreed to take on this teaching job in addition to his gamekeeping duties.† Harry, Ron, and Hermione stared at one another, stunned. Then they joined in with the applause, which was tumultuous at the Gryffindor table in particular. Harry leaned forward to see Hagrid, who was ruby red in the face and staring down at his enormous hands, his wide grin hidden in the tangle of his black beard. â€Å"We should've known!† Ron roared, pounding the table. â€Å"Who else would have assigned us a biting book?† Harry, Ron, and Hermione were the last to stop clapping, and as Professor Dumbledore started speaking again, they saw that Hagrid was wiping his eyes on the tablecloth. â€Å"Well, I think that's everything of importance,† said Dumbledore. â€Å"Let the feast begin!† The golden plates and goblets before them filled suddenly with food and drink. Harry, suddenly ravenous, helped himself to everything he could reach and began to eat. It was a delicious feast; the hall echoed with talk, laughter, and the clatter of knives and forks. Harry, Ron, and Hermione, however, were eager for it to finish so that they could talk to Hagrid. They knew how much being made a teacher would mean to him. Hagrid wasn't a fully qualified wizard; he had been expelled from Hogwarts in his third year for a crime he had not committed. It had been Harry, Ron, and Hermione who had cleared Hagrid's name last year. At long last, when the last morsels of pumpkin tart had melted from the golden platters, Dumbledore gave the word that it was time for them all to go to bed, and they got their chance. â€Å"Congratulations, Hagrid!† Hermione squealed as they reached the teachers' table. â€Å"All down ter you three,† said Hagrid, wiping his shining face on his napkin as he looked up at them. â€Å"Can' believe it†¦great man, Dumbledore†¦came straight down to me hut after Professor Kettleburn said he'd had enough†¦It's what I always wanted†¦Ã¢â‚¬  Overcome with emotion, he buried his face in his napkin, and Professor McGonagall shooed them away. Harry, Ron, and Hermione joined the Gryffindors streaming up the marble staircase and, very tired now, along more corridors, up more and more stairs, to the hidden entrance to Gryffindor Tower, where a large portrait of a fat lady in a pink dress asked them, â€Å"Password?† â€Å"Coming through, coming through!† Percy called from behind the crowd. â€Å"The new password's Fortuna Major!† â€Å"Oh no,† said Neville Longbottom sadly. He always had trouble remembering the passwords. Through the portrait hole and across the common room, the girls and boys divided toward their separate staircases. Harry climbed the spiral stair with no thought in his head except how glad he was to be back. They reached their familiar, circular dormitory with its five four-poster beds, and Harry, looking around, felt he was home at last.