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"In Madam Malkin's. She didn't touch him, but he yelled and jerked his arm away from her when she went to roll up his sleeve. It was his left arm. He's been branded with the Dark Mark." Ron and Hermione looked at each other.
"Well..." said Ron, sounding thoroughly unconvinced.
"I think he just wanted to get out of there, Harry," said Hermione.
"He showed Borgin something we couldn't see," Harry pressed on stubbornly.
"Something that seriously scared Borgin. It was the Mark, I know it that he was showing Borgin who he was dealing with, you saw how seriously Borgin took him!" Ron and Hermione exchanged another look.
"I'm not sure, Harry..." "Yeah, I still don't reckon You-Know-Who would let Malfoy join..." Annoyed, but absolutely convinced he was right, Harry snatched up a pile of filthy Quidditch robes and left the room; Mrs. Weasley had been urging them for days not to leave their washing and packing until the last moment. On the landing he bumped into Ginny, who was returning to her room carrying a pile of freshly laundered clothes.
"I wouldn't go in the kitchen just now," she warned him. "There's a lot of Phlegm around." "I'll be careful not to slip in it." Harry smiled.
Sure enough, when he entered the kitchen it was to find Fleur sitting at the kitchen table, in full flow about plans for her wedding to Bill, while Mrs. Weasley kept watch over a pile of self-peeling sprouts, looking bad-tempered.
"... Bill and I 'ave almost decided on only two bridesmaids, Ginny and Gabrielle will look very sweet togezzer. I am theenking of dressing zem in pale gold. Pink would of course be 'orrible with Ginny's 'air." "Ah, Harry!" said Mrs. Weasley loudly, cutting across Fleur's monologue. "Good, I wanted to explain about the security arrangements for the journey to Hogwarts tomorrow. We've got Ministry cars again, and there will be Aurors waiting at the station." "Is Tonks going to be there." asked Harry, handing over his Quidditch things.
"No, I don't think so, she's been stationed somewhere else from what Arthur said." "She has let 'erself go, zat Tonks," Fleur mused, examining her own stunning reflection in the back of a teaspoon. "A big mistake if you ask."
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