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Harry was suddenly on his feet. Rage such as he had not felt since his last night in Privet Drive was coursing through him. He didn't care that Snape's face had gone rigid, the black eyes flashing dangerously.

Harry picked up the letter. It was addressed to him. He ripped open the letter, and shouted, ¡°It's from Sirius!¡±

¡°Dunno,¡± said Ron. ¡°Quite old. He used to belong to my brother.¡±

By the feeble light of his formless Patronus, he saw a Dementor halt, very close to him. It couldn't walk through the cloud of silver mist Harry had conjured. A dead, slimy hand slid out from under the cloak. It made a gesture as though to sweep the Patronus aside.


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