“Just as modest as Horace described!

“Just as modest as Horace described!” said Worple. “But seriously—” his manner changed; it became suddenly business-like, “I would be delighted to write it myself

— people are craving to know more about you, dear boy, craving! If you were prepared to grant me a few interviews, say in four- or five-hour sessions, why, we could

have the book finished within months. And all with very little effort on your part, I assure you—ask Sanguini here if it isn't quite — Sanguini, stay here!” added

Worple, suddenly stern, for the vampire had been edging toward the nearby group of girls, a rather hungry look in his eye. “Here, have a pasty,” said Worple, seizing

one from a passing elf and stuffing it into Sanguini's hand before turning his attention back to Harry.

“My dear boy, the gold you could make, you have no idea —”

“I'm definitely not interested,” said Harry firmly, “and I've just seen a friend of mine, sorry.”

He pulled Luna after him into the crowd; he had indeed just seen a long mane of brown hair disappear between what looked like two members of the Weird Sisters.

“Hermione! Hermione!”

“Harry! There you are, thank goodness! Hi, Luna !”

“What's happened to you?” asked Harry, for Hermione looked distinctly disheveled, rather as though she had just fought her way out of a thicket of Devil's Snare.

“Oh, I've just escaped—I mean, I've just left Cormac,” she said. “Under the mistletoe,” she added in explanation, as Harry continued to look questioningly at her.

“Serves you right for coming with him,” he told her severely.

“I thought he'd annoy Ron most,” said Hermione dispassionately. “I debated for a while about Zacharias Smith, but I thought, on the whole —”

“You considered Smith?” said Harry, revolted.