Books Can Be Misleading...

Dumbledore's Man Through And Through, Aren't You Potter?" "yeah I Am," Said Harry. "glad We Straightened That Out.

The Exceptions Were Two Men A Little Ahead Of Them, Standing Just Outside The Three Broomsticks. One Was Very Tall And Thin; Squinting Through His Rain-washed Glasses Harry Recognized The Barman Who Worked In The Other Hogsmeade Pub, The Hog’s Head. As Harry, Ron, And Hermione Drew Closer, The Barman Drew His Cloak More Tightly Around His Neck And Walked Away, Leaving The Shorter Man To Fumble With Something In His Arms. They Were Barely Feet From Him When Harry Realized Who The Man Was. “mundungus!

I Hope You're Pleased With Yourselves. We Could All Have Been Killed - Or Worse, Expelled. Now If You Don't Mind, I'm Going To Bed.

From This Point Forth, We Shall Be Leaving The Firm Foundation Of Fact And Journeying Together Through The Murky Marshes Of Memory Into Thickets Of Wildest Guesswork.

Harry Felt Winded, As Though He Had Just Walked Into Something Heavy. He Had Last Seen Those Cool Gray Eyes Through Slits In A Death Eater’s Hood, And Last Heard That Man’s Voice Jeering In A Dark Graveyard While Lord Voldemort Tortured Him. He Could Not Believe That Lucius Malfoy Dared Look Him In The Face; He Could Not Believe That He Was Here, In The Ministry Of Magic, Or That Cornelius Fudge Was Talking To Him, When Harry Had Told Fudge Mere Weeks Ago That Malfoy Was A Death Eater.