CHAPTER EIGHT
Fascinated, Harry thumbed through the rest of the envelope’ s contents. Why on earth did Filch want a Kwikspell course? Did this mean he wasn’ t a proper wizard? Harry was just reading“ Lesson One: Holding Your Wand( Some Useful Tips)” when shuffling footsteps outside told him Filch was coming back. Stuffing the parchment back into the envelope, Harry threw it back onto the desk just as the door opened. Filch was looking triumphant.“ That vanishing cabinet was extremely valuable!” he was saying gleefully to Mrs. Norris.“ We’ ll have Peeves out this time, my sweet—”
His eyes fell on Harry and then darted to the Kwikspell envelope, which, Harry realized too late, was lying two feet away from where it had started.
Filch’ s pasty face went brick red. Harry braced himself for a tidal wave of fury. Filch hobbled across to his desk, snatched up the envelope, and threw it into a drawer.“ Have you— did you read—?” he sputtered.“ No,” Harry lied quickly. Filch’ s knobbly hands were twisting together.“ If I thought you’ d read my private— not that it’ s mine— for a friend— be that as it may— however—”
Harry was staring at him, alarmed; Filch had never looked madder. His eyes were popping, a tic was going in one of his pouchy cheeks, and the tartan scarf didn’ t help.
“ Very well— go— and don’ t breathe a word— not that— however, if you didn’ t read— go now, I have to write up Peeves’ report— go—”
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