. . . . . . . . . .
But the classroom and the Dementor were dissolving¡Harry was falling again through thick white fog, and his mother's voice was louder than ever, echoing inside his head ¡ª ¡°Not Harry! Not Harry! Please ¡ª I'll do anything ¡ª¡±
¡°And, sir, I'll need this shrivelfig skinned,¡± said Malfoy, his voice full of malicious laughter.