Harry Potter 03 - Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban by authors_sort

about Dumbledore not being happy with the Dementors guarding the school.
    ‘They are stationed at every entrance to the grounds,’ Dumbledore continued, ‘and while they are with us, I must make it plain that nobody is to leave school without permission. Dementors are not to be fooled by tricks or disguises – or even Invisibility Cloaks,’ he added blandly, and Harry and Ron glanced at each other. ‘It is not in the nature of a Dementor to understand pleading or excuses. I therefore warn each and every one of you to give them no reason to harm you. I look to the Prefects, and our new Head Boy and Girl, to make sure that no student runs foul of the Dementors.’
    Percy, who was sitting a few seats along from Harry, puffed out his chest again and stared around impressively. Dumbledore paused again; he looked very seriously around the Hall, and nobody moved or made a sound.
    ‘On a happier note,’ he continued, ‘I am pleased to welcome two new teachers to our ranks this year.
    ‘Firstly, Professor Lupin, who has kindly consented to fill the post of Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher.’
    There was some scattered, rather unenthusiastic, applause. Only those who had been in the compartment on the train with Professor Lupin clapped hard, Harry among them. Professor Lupin looked particularly shabby next to all the other teachers in their best robes.
    ‘Look at Snape!’ Ron hissed in Harry’s ear.
    Professor Snape, the Potions master, was staring along the staff table at Professor Lupin. It was common knowledge that Snape wanted the Defence Against the Dark Arts job, but even Harry, who hated Snape, was startled at the expression twisting his thin, sallow face. It was beyond anger: it was loathing. Harry knew that expression only too well; it was the look Snape wore every time he set eyes on Harry.
    ‘As to our second new appointment,’ Dumbledore continued, as the lukewarm applause for Professor Lupin died away, ‘well, I am sorry to tell you that Professor Kettleburn, our Care of Magical Creatures teacher, retired at the end of last year in order to enjoy more time with his remaining limbs. However, I am delighted to say that his place will be filled by none other than Rubeus Hagrid, who has agreed to take on this teaching job in addition to his gamekeeping duties.’
    Harry, Ron and Hermione stared at each other, stunned. Then they joined in with the applause, which was tumultuous at the Gryffindor table in particular. Harry leant forward to see Hagrid, who was ruby red in the face and staring down at his enormous hands, his wide grin hidden in the tangle of his black beard.
    ‘We should’ve known!’ Ron roared, pounding the table. ‘Who else would have set us a biting book?’
    Harry, Ron and Hermione were the last to stop clapping, and as Professor Dumbledore started speaking again, they saw that Hagrid was wiping his eyes on the tablecloth.
    ‘Well, I think that’s everything of importance,’ said Dumbledore. ‘Let the feast begin!’
    The golden plates and goblets before them filled suddenly with food and drink. Harry, suddenly ravenous, helped himself to everything he could reach and began to eat.
    It was a delicious feast; the Hall echoed with talk, laughter and the clatter of knives and forks. Harry, Ron and Hermione, however, were eager for it to finish so that they could talk to Hagrid. They knew how much being made a teacher would mean to him. Hagrid wasn’t a fully qualified wizard; he had been expelled from Hogwarts in his third year, for a crime he had not committed. It had been Harry, Ron and Hermione who had cleared Hagrid’s name last year.
    At long last, when the last morsels of pumpkin tart had melted from the golden platters, Dumbledore gave the word that it was time for them all to go to bed, and they got their chance.
    ‘Congratulations, Hagrid!’ Hermione squealed, as they reached the teachers’ table.
    ‘All down ter you three,’ said Hagrid, wiping his shining face on his