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an old war memorial and a few benches. His comprehension catching up with his senses, Harry realized that he had just Apparated for the first time in his life.
"Are you all right." asked Dumbledore, looking down at him solicitously. "The sensation does take some getting used to." "I'm fine," said Harry, rubbing his ears, which felt as though they had left Privet Drive rather reluctantly. "But I think I might prefer brooms. . . ." Dumbledore smiled, drew his traveling cloak a little more lightly around his neck, and said, "This way." He set off at a brisk pace, past an empty inn and a few houses. According to a clock on a nearby church, it was almost midnight.
"So tell me, Harry," said Dumbledore. "Your scar ... has it been hurting at all." Harry raised a hand unconsciously to his forehead and rubbed i he lightning-shaped mark.
"No," he said, "and I've been wondering about that. I thought it would be burning all the time now Voldemort's getting so powerful again." He glanced up at Dumbledore and saw that he was wearing a satisfied expression.
"I, on the other hand, thought otherwise," said Dumbledore. "Lord Voldemort has finally realized the dangerous access to his thoughts and feelings you have been enjoying. It appears that he is now employing Occlumency against you." "Well, I'm not complaining," said Harry, who missed neither the disturbing dreams nor the startling flashes of insight into Voldemort's mind.
They turned a corner, passing a telephone box and a bus shelter. Harry looked sideways at Dumbledore again. "Professor." "Harry." "Er — where exactly are we." "This, Harry, is the charming village of Budleigh Babberton." "And what are we doing here." "Ah yes, of course, I haven't told you," said Dumbledore. "Well, I have lost count of the number of times I have said this in recent years, but we are, once again, one member of staff short. We are here to persuade an old colleague of mine to come out of retirement and return to Hogwarts." "How can I help with that, sir." ¦
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