emerald one. Her black hair was drawn into a tight bun. She looked distinctly

ruffled.

 

"How did you know it was me?" she asked.

 

"My dear Professor, I 've never seen a cat sit so stiffly."

 

"You'd be stiff if you'd been sitting on a brick wall all day," said Professor

McGonagall.

 

"All day? When you could have been celebrating? I must have passed a dozen

feasts and parties on my way here."

 

Professor McGonagall sniffed angrily.

 

"Oh yes, everyone's celebrating, all right," she said impatiently.

 

"You'd think they'd be a bit more careful, but no -- even the Muggles have

noticed something's going on. It was on their news." She jerked her head back at

the Dursleys' dark living-room window. "I heard it. Flocks of owls... shooting

stars.... Well, they're not completely stupid. They were bound to notice

something. Shooting stars down in Kent -- I'll bet that was Dedalus Diggle. He

never had much sense."

 

"You can't blame them," said Dumbledore gently. "We've had precious little to