Harry ignored him and made his solitary way up the marble staircase, through the deserted corridors, and back to Gryffindor Tower.

Harry slammed the album shut, reached over and stuffed it back into his cabinet, took off his robe and glasses and got into bed, making sure the hangings were hiding him from view.

“Eleven Sickles,” said Stan, “but for firteen you get ‘ot chocolate, and for fifteen you get an ‘ot-water bottle an’ a toofbrush in the color of your choice.”

“It's me,” he muttered.

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