C H A P T E R F I F T E E N
ARAGOG
S
ummer was creeping over the grounds around the castle; sky
and lake alike turned periwinkle blue and flowers large as cab-
bages burst into bloom in the greenhouses. But with no Hagrid vis-
ible from the castle windows, striding the grounds with Fang at his
heels, the scene didn’t look right to Harry; no better, in fact, than
the inside of the castle, where things were so horribly wrong.
Harry and Ron had tried to visit Hermione, but visitors were
now barred from the hospital wing.
“We’re taking no more chances,” Madam Pomfrey told them se-
verely through a crack in the infirmary door. “No, I’m sorry, there’s
every chance the attacker might come back to finish these people
off. . . .”
With Dumbledore gone, fear had spread as never before, so that
the sun warming the castle walls outside seemed to stop at the mul-
lioned windows. There was barely a face to be seen in the school
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