on the wall next to the cat. He didn‘t lookat it, but after a moment he
spoke to it.
"Fancy seeing you here, ProfessorMcGonagall."
He turned to smile at the tabby, but it hadgone. Instead he was smiling
at a rather severe-looking woman who waswearing square glasses exactly
the shape of the markings the cat had hadaround its eyes. She, too, was
wearing a cloak, an emerald one. Her blackhair was drawn into a tight
bun. She looked distinctly ruffled.
"How did you know it was me?" sheasked.
"My dear Professor, I ’ve never seen acat sit so stiffly."
"You‘d be stiff if you’d been sittingon a brick wall all day," said
Professor McGonagall.
"All day? When you could have beencelebrating? I must have passed a
dozen feasts and parties on my wayhere."
Professor McGonagall sniffed angrily.
"Oh yes, everyone‘s celebrating, allright," she said impatiently.
"You’d think they‘d be a bit morecareful, but no -- even the Muggles
have noticed something’s going on. It wason their news." She jerked her
head back at the Dursleys‘ dark living-roomwindow. "I heard it. Flocks
of owls... shooting stars.... Well, they’renot completely stupid. They
were bound to notice something. Shootingstars down in Kent -- I‘ll bet
that was Dedalus Diggle. He never had muchsense."
"You can’t blame them," saidDumbledore gently. "We‘ve had precious
little to celebrate for eleven years."
"I know that," said ProfessorMcGonagall irritably. "But that’s no
reason to lose our heads. People are beingdownright careless, out on
the streets in broad daylight, not evendressed in Muggle clothes,
swapping rumors."
She threw a sharp, sideways glance atDumbledore here, as though hoping
he was going to tell her something, but hedidn‘t, so she went on. "A
fine thing it would be if, on the very dayYouKnow-Who seems to have
disappeared at last, the Muggles found outabout us all. I suppose he
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