. “He'd've had to kill the whole house to get back through the portrait hole…then he would've met the teachers…”
Neville was in total disgrace. Professor McGonagall was so furious with him she had banned him from all future Hogsmeade visits, given him a detention, and forbidden anyone to give him the password into the tower. Poor Neville was forced to wait. outside the common room every night for somebody to let him in, while the security trolls leered unpleasantly at him. None of these punishments, however, came close to matching the one his grandmother had in store for him. Two days after Black's break-in, she sent Neville the very worst thing a Hogwarts student could receive over breakfast — a Howler.
The school owls swooped into the Great Hall carrying the mail as usual, and Neville choked as a huge barn owl landed in front of him, a scarlet envelope clutched in its beak. Harry and Ron, who were sitting opposite him, recognized the letter as a Howler at once — Ron had got one from his mother the year before.
“Run for it, Neville,” Ron advised.
Neville didn't need telling twice. He seized the envelope,
Michael Kors Handbags, and holding it before him like a bomb, sprinted out of the hall, while the Slytherin table exploded with laughter at the sight of him. They heard the Howler go off in the entrance hall — Neville's grandmother's voice, magically magnified to a hundred times its usual volume, shrieking about how he had brought shame on the whole family.
Harry was too busy feeling sorry for Neville to notice immediately that he had a letter too. Hedwig got his attention by nipping him sharply on the wrist.
“Ouch! Oh — thanks, Hedwig.”
Harry tore open the envelope while Hedwig helped herself to some of Neville's cornflakes. The note inside said:
Dear Harry and Ron,
How about having tea with me this afternoon ‘round six? I'll come collect you from the castle. WAIT FOR ME IN THE ENTRANCE HALL; YOU'RE NOT ALLOWED OUT ON YOUR OWN.
Cheers,
Hagrid
“He probably wants to hear all about Black!” said Ron.
So at six o'clock that afternoon, Harry and Ron left Gryffindor Tower, passed the security trolls at a run, and headed down to the entrance hall.
Hagrid was already waiting for them.
“All right, Hagrid!” said Ron. “S'pose you want to hear about Saturday night,
Michael Kors Wallet, do you?”
“I've already heard all abou’ it,
Michael Kors handbags outlet,” said Hagrid, opening the front doors and leading them outside.
“Oh,” said Ron, looking slightly put out.
The first thing they saw on entering Hagrid's cabin was Buckbeak, who was stretched out on top of Hagrid's patchwork quilt, his enormous wings folded tight to his body, enjoying a large plate of dead ferrets. Averting his eyes from this unpleasant sight, Harry saw a gigantic, hairy brown suit and a very horrible yellow-and-orange tie hanging from the top of Hagrid's wardrobe door.
“What are they
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