CHAPTER FIVE Hermione looked around, listening closely. “Yeah,” said Harry softly, “twice. He sounds okay. I wrote to him yesterday. He might write back while I’m here.” He suddenly remembered the reason he had written to Sirius, and for a moment was on the verge of telling Ron and Hermione about his scar hurting again, and about the dream that had awoken him . . . but he really didn’t want to worry them just now, not when he himself was feeling so happy and peaceful. “Look at the time,” Mrs. Weasley said suddenly, checking her wristwatch. “You really should be in bed, the whole lot of you — you’ll be up at the crack of dawn to get to the Cup. Harry, if you leave your school list out, I’ll get your things for you tomorrow in Diagon Alley. I’m getting everyone else’s. There might not be time after the World Cup, the match went on for five days last time.” “Wow — hope it does this time!” said Harry enthusiastically. “Well, I certainly don’t,” said Percy sanctimoniously. “I shudder to think what the state of my in-tray would be if I was away from work for five days.” “Yeah, someone might slip dragon dung in it again, eh, Perce?” said Fred. “That was a sample of fertilizer from Norway!” said Percy, going very red in the face. “It was nothing personal!” “It was,” Fred whispered to Harry as they got up from the table. “We sent it.” ‘64 ‘