Chapter 13 Madeye Moody

â€Å"Herbology with the Hufflepuffs and Care of Magical Creatures†¦damn it, we’re still with the Slytherins†¦.† â€Å"Double Divination this afternoon,† Harry groaned, looking down. Divination was his least favorite subject, apart from Potions. Professor Trelawney kept predicting Harry’s death, which he found extremely annoying. â€Å"You should have given it up like me, shouldn’t you?† said Hermione briskly, buttering herself some toast. â€Å"Then you’d be doing something sensible like Arithmancy.† â€Å"You’re eating again, I notice,† said Ron, watching Hermione adding liberal amounts of jam to her toast too. â€Å"I’ve decided there are better ways of making a stand about elf rights,† said Hermione haughtily. â€Å"Yeah†¦and you were hungry,† said Ron, grinning. There was a sudden rustling noise above them, and a hundred owls came soaring through the open windows carrying the morning mail. Instinctively, Harry looked up, but there was no sign of white among the mass of brown and gray. The owls circled the tables, looking for the people to whom their letters and packages were addressed. A large tawny owl soared down to Neville Longbottom and deposited a parcel into his lap – Neville almost always forgot to pack something. On the other side of the Hall Draco Malfoy’s eagle owl had landed on his shoulder, carrying what looked like his usual supply of sweets and cakes from home. Trying to ignore the sinking feeling of disappointment in his stomach, Harry returned to his porridge. Was it possible that something had happened to Hedwig, and that Sirius hadn’t even got his letter? His preoccupation lasted all the way across the sodden vegetable patch until they arrived in greenhouse three, but here he was distracted by Professor Sprout showing the class the ugliest plants Harry had ever seen. Indeed, they looked less like plants than thick, black, giant slugs, protruding vertically out of the soil. Each was squirming slightly and had a number of large, shiny swellings upon it, which appeared to be full of liquid. â€Å"Bubotubers,† Professor Sprout told them briskly. â€Å"They need squeezing. You will collect the pus -â€Å" â€Å"The what?† said Seamus Finnigan, sounding revolted. â€Å"Pus, Finnigan, pus,† said Professor Sprout, â€Å"and it’s extremely valuable, so don’t waste it. You will collect the pus, I say, in these bottles. Wear your dragon-hide gloves; it can do funny things to the skin when undiluted, bubotuber pus.† Squeezing the bubotubers was disgusting, but oddly satisfying. As each swelling was popped, a large amount of thick yellowish-green liquid burst forth, which smelled strongly of petrol. They caught it in the bottles as Professor Sprout had indicated, and by the end of the lesson had collected several pints. â€Å"This’ll keep Madam Pomfrey happy,† said Professor Sprout, stoppering the last bottle with a cork. â€Å"An excellent remedy for the more stubborn forms of acne, bubotuber pus. Should stop students resorting to desperate measures to rid themselves of pimples.† â€Å"Like poor Eloise Midgen,† said Hannah Abbott, a Hufflepuff, in a hushed voice. â€Å"She tried to curse hers off.† â€Å"Silly girl,† said Professor Sprout, shaking her head. â€Å"But Madam Pomfrey fixed her nose back on in the end.† A booming bell echoed from the castle across the wet grounds, signaling the end of the lesson, and the class separated; the Hufflepuffs climbing the stone steps for Transfiguration, and the Gryffindors heading in the other direction, down the sloping lawn toward Hagrid’s small wooden cabin, which stood on the edge of the Forbidden Forest. Hagrid was standing outside his hut, one hand on the collar of his enormous black boarhound, Fang. There were several open wooden crates on the ground at his feet, and Fang was whimpering and straining at his collar, apparently keen to investigate the contents more closely. As they drew nearer, an odd rattling noise reached their ears, punctuated by what sounded like minor explosions. â€Å"Mornin’!† Hagrid said, grinning at Harry, Ron, and Hermione. â€Å"Be’er wait fer the Slytherins, they won’ want ter miss this – Blast-Ended Skrewts!† â€Å"Come again?† said Ron. Hagrid pointed down into the crates. â€Å"Eurgh!† squealed Lavender Brown, jumping backward. â€Å"Eurgh† just about summed up the Blast-Ended Skrewts in Harry’s opinion. They looked like deformed, shell-less lobsters, horribly pale and slimy-looking, with legs sticking out in very odd places and no visible heads. There were about a hundred of them in each crate, each about six inches long, crawling over one another, bumping blindly into the sides of the boxes. They were giving off a very powerful smell of rotting fish. Every now and then, sparks would fly out of the end of a skrewt, and with a small phut, it would be propelled forward several inches. â€Å"On’y jus’ hatched,† said Hagrid proudly, â€Å"so yeh’ll be able ter raise ’em yerselves! Thought we’d make a bit of a project of it!† â€Å"And why would we want to raise them?† said a cold voice. The Slytherins had arrived. The speaker was Draco Malfoy. Crabbe and Goyle were chuckling appreciatively at his words. Hagrid looked stumped at the question. â€Å"I mean, what do they do?† asked Malfoy. â€Å"What is the point of them?† Hagrid opened his mouth, apparently thinking hard; there was a few seconds’ pause, then he said roughly, â€Å"Tha’s next lesson, Malfoy. Yer jus’ feedin’ ’em today. Now, yeh’ll wan’ ter try ’em on a few diff’rent things – I’ve never had ’em before, not sure what they’ll go fer – I got ant eggs an’ frog livers an’ a bit o’ grass snake – just try ’em out with a bit of each.† â€Å"First pus and now this,† muttered Seamus. Nothing but deep affection for Hagrid could have made Harry, Ron, and Hermione pick up squelchy handfuls of frog liver and lower them into the crates to tempt the Blast-Ended Skrewts. Harry couldn’t suppress the suspicion that the whole thing was entirely pointless, because the skrewts didn’t seem to have mouths. â€Å"Ouch!† yelled Dean Thomas after about ten minutes. â€Å"It got me.† Hagrid hurried over to him, looking anxious. â€Å"Its end exploded!† said Dean angrily, showing Hagrid a burn on his hand. â€Å"Ah, yeah, that can happen when they blast off,† said Hagrid, nodding. â€Å"Eurgh!† said Lavender Brown again. â€Å"Eurgh, Hagrid, what’s that pointy thing on it?† â€Å"Ah, some of ’em have got stings,† said Hagrid enthusiastically (Lavender quickly withdrew her hand from the box). â€Å"I reckon they’re the males†¦.The females’ve got sorta sucker things on their bellies†¦.I think they might be ter suck blood.† â€Å"Well, I can certainly see why we’re trying to keep them alive,† said Malfoy sarcastically. â€Å"Who wouldn’t want pets that can burn, sting, and bite all at once?† â€Å"Just because they’re not very pretty, it doesn’t mean they’re not useful,† Hermione snapped. â€Å"Dragon blood’s amazingly magical, but you wouldn’t want a dragon for a pet, would you?† Harry and Ron grinned at Hagrid, who gave them a furtive smile from behind his bushy beard. Hagrid would have liked nothing better than a pet dragon, as Harry, Ron, and Hermione knew only too well – he had owned one for a brief period during their first year, a vicious Norwegian Ridgeback by the name of Norbert. Hagrid simply loved monstrous creatures, the more lethal, the better. â€Å"Well, at least the skrewts are small,† said Ron as they made their way back up to the castle for lunch an hour later. â€Å"They are now,† said Hermione in an exasperated voice, â€Å"but once Hagrid’s found out what they eat, I expect they’ll be six feet long.† â€Å"Well, that won’t matter if they turn out to cure seasickness or something, will it?† said Ron, grinning slyly at her. â€Å"You know perfectly well I only said that to shut Malfoy up,† said Hermione. â€Å"As a matter of fact I think he’s right. The best thing to do would be to stamp on the lot of them before they start attacking us all.† They sat down at the Gryffindor table and helped themselves to lamb chops and potatoes. Hermione began to eat so fast that Harry and Ron stared at her. â€Å"Er – is this the new stand on elf rights?† said Ron. â€Å"You’re going to make yourself puke instead?† â€Å"No,† said Hermione, with as much dignity as she could muster with her mouth bulging with sprouts. â€Å"I just want to get to the library.† â€Å"What?† said Ron in disbelief. â€Å"Hermione – it’s the first day back! We haven’t even got homework yet!† Hermione shrugged and continued to shovel down her food as though she had not eaten for days. Then she leapt to her feet, said, â€Å"See you at dinner!† and departed at high speed. When the bell rang to signal the start of afternoon lessons, Harry and Ron set off for North Tower where, at the top of a tightly spiraling staircase, a silver stepladder led to a circular trapdoor in the ceiling, and the room where Professor Trelawney lived. The familiar sweet perfume spreading from the fire met their nostrils as they emerged at the top of the stepladder. As ever, the curtains were all closed; the circular room was bathed in a dim reddish light cast by the many lamps, which were all draped with scarves and shawls. Harry and Ron walked through the mass of occupied chintz chairs and poufs that cluttered the room, and sat down at the same small circular table. â€Å"Good day,† said the misty voice of Professor Trelawney right behind Harry, making him jump. A very thin woman with enormous glasses that made her eyes appear far too large for her face, Professor Trelawney was peering down at Harry with the tragic expression she always wore whenever she saw him. The usual large amount of beads, chains, and bangles glittered upon her person in the firelight. â€Å"You are preoccupied, my dear,† she said mournfully to Harry. â€Å"My inner eye sees past your brave face to the troubled soul within. And I regret to say that your worries are not baseless. I see difficult times ahead for you, alas†¦most difficult†¦I fear the thing you dread will indeed come to pass†¦.and perhaps sooner than you think†¦Ã¢â‚¬  Her voice dropped almost to a whisper. Ron rolled his eyes at Harry, who looked stonily back. Professor Trelawney swept past them and seated herself in a large winged armchair before the fire, facing the class. Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil, who deeply admired Professor Trelawney, were sitting on poufs very close to her. â€Å"My dears, it is time for us to consider the stars,† she said. â€Å"The movements of the planets and the mysterious portents they reveal only to those who understand the steps of the celestial dance. Human destiny may be deciphered by the planetary rays, which intermingle†¦.† But Harry’s thoughts had drifted. The perfumed fire always made him feel sleepy and dull-witted, and Professor Trelawney’s rambling talks on fortune-telling never held him exactly spellbound – though he couldn’t help thinking about what she had just said to him. â€Å"I fear the thing you dread will indeed come to pass†¦Ã¢â‚¬  But Hermione was right, Harry thought irritably, Professor Trelawney really was an old fraud. He wasn’t dreading anything at the moment at all†¦well, unless you counted his fears that Sirius had been caught†¦but what did Professor Trelawney know? He had long since come to the conclusion that her brand of fortunetelling was really no more than lucky guesswork and a spooky manner. Except, of course, for that time at the end of last term, when she had made the prediction about Voldemort rising again†¦and Dumbledore himself had said that he thought that trance had been genuine, when Harry had described it to him. â€Å"Harry!† Ron muttered. â€Å"What?† Harry looked around; the whole class was staring at him. He sat up straight; he had been almost dozing off, lost in the heat and his thoughts. â€Å"I was saying, my dear, that you were clearly born under the baleful influence of Saturn,† said Professor Trelawney, a faint note of resentment in her voice at the fact that he had obviously not been hanging on her words. â€Å"Born under – what, sorry?† said Harry. â€Å"Saturn, dear, the planet Saturn!† said Professor Trelawney, sounding definitely irritated that he wasn’t riveted by this news. â€Å"I was saying that Saturn was surely in a position of power in the heavens at the moment of your birth†¦.Your dark hair†¦your mean stature†¦tragic losses so young in life†¦I think I am right in saying, my dear, that you were born in midwinter?† â€Å"No,† said Harry, â€Å"I was born in July.† Ron hastily turned his laugh into a hacking cough. Half an hour later, each of them had been given a complicated circular chart, and was attempting to fill in the position of the planets at their moment of birth. It was dull work, requiring much consultation of timetables and calculation of angles. â€Å"I’ve got two Neptunes here,† said Harry after a while, frowning down at his piece of parchment, â€Å"that can’t be right, can it?† â€Å"Aaaaah,† said Ron, imitating Professor Trelawney’s mystical whisper, â€Å"when two Neptunes appear in the sky, it is a sure sign that a midget in glasses is being born, Harry†¦.† Seamus and Dean, who were working nearby, sniggered loudly, though not loudly enough to mask the excited squeals from Lavender Brown – â€Å"Oh Professor, look! I think I’ve got an unaspected planet! Oooh, which one’s that, Professor?† â€Å"It is Uranus, my dear,† said Professor Trelawney, peering down at the chart. â€Å"Can I have a look at Uranus too, Lavender?† said Ron. Most unfortunately, Professor Trelawney heard him, and it was this, perhaps, that made her give them so much homework at the end of the class. â€Å"A detailed analysis of the way the planetary movements in the coming month will affect you, with reference to your personal chart,† she snapped, sounding much more like Professor McGonagall than her usual airy-fairy self. â€Å"I want it ready to hand in next Monday, and no excuses!† â€Å"Miserable old bat,† said Ron bitterly as they joined the crowds descending the staircases back to the Great Hall and dinner. â€Å"That’ll take all weekend, that will†¦Ã¢â‚¬  â€Å"Lots of homework?† said Hermione brightly, catching up with them. â€Å"Professor Vector didn’t give us any at all!† â€Å"Well, bully for Professor Vector,† said Ron moodily. They reached the entrance hall, which was packed with people queuing for dinner. They had just joined the end of the line, when a loud voice rang out behind them. â€Å"Weasley! Hey, Weasley!† Harry, Ron, and Hermione turned. Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle were standing there, each looking thoroughly pleased about something. â€Å"What?† said Ron shortly. â€Å"Your dad’s in the paper, Weasley!† said Malfoy, brandishing a copy of the Daily Prophet and speaking very loudly, so that everyone in the packed entrance hall could hear. â€Å"Listen to this! FURTHER MISTAKES AT THE MINISTRY OF MAGIC It seems as though the Ministry of Magic’s troubles are not yet at an end, writes Rita Skeeter, Special Correspondent. Recently under fire for its poor crowd control at the Quidditch World Cup, and still unable to account for the disappearance of one of its witches, the Ministry was plunged into fresh embarrassment yesterday by the antics of Arnold Weasley, of the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office.† Malfoy looked up. â€Å"Imagine them not even getting his name right, Weasley. It’s almost as though he’s a complete nonentity, isn’t it?† he crowed. Everyone in the entrance hall was listening now. Malfoy straightened the paper with a flourish and read on: Arnold Weasley, who was charged with possession of a flying car two years ago, was yesterday involved in a tussle with several Muggle law-keepers (â€Å"policemen†) over a number of highly aggressive dustbins. Mr. Weasley appears to have rushed to the aid of â€Å"Mad-Eye† Moody, the aged ex-Auror who retired from the Ministry when no longer able to tell the difference between a handshake and attempted murder. Unsurprisingly, Mr. Weasley found, upon arrival at Mr. Moody’s heavily guarded house, that Mr. Moody had once again raised a false alarm. Mr. Weasley was forced to modify several memories before he could escape from the policemen, but refused to answer Daily Prophet questions about why he had involved the Ministry in such an undignified and potentially embarrassing scene. â€Å"And there’s a picture, Weasley!† said Malfoy, flipping the paper over and holding it up. â€Å"A picture of your parents outside their house – if you can call it a house! Your mother could do with losing a bit of weight, couldn’t she?† Ron was shaking with fury. Everyone was staring at him. â€Å"Get stuffed, Malfoy,† said Harry. â€Å"C’mon, Ron†¦Ã¢â‚¬  â€Å"Oh yeah, you were staying with them this summer, weren’t you, Potter?† sneered Malfoy. â€Å"So tell me, is his mother really that porky, or is it just the picture?† â€Å"You know your mother, Malfoy?† said Harry – both he and Hermione had grabbed the back of Ron’s robes to stop him from launching himself at Malfoy – â€Å"that expression she’s got, like she’s got dung under her nose? Has she always looked like that, or was it just because you were with her?† Malfoy’s pale face went slightly pink. â€Å"Don’t you dare insult my mother, Potter.† â€Å"Keep your fat mouth shut, then,† said Harry, turning away. BANG! Several people screamed – Harry felt something white-hot graze the side of his face – he plunged his hand into his robes for his wand, but before he’d even touched it, he heard a second loud BANG, and a roar that echoed through the entrance hall. â€Å"OH NO YOU DON’T, LADDIE!† Harry spun around. Professor Moody was limping down the marble staircase. His wand was out and it was pointing right at a pure white ferret, which was shivering on the stone-flagged floor, exactly where Malfoy had been standing. There was a terrified silence in the entrance hall. Nobody but Moody was moving a muscle. Moody turned to look at Harry – at least, his normal eye was looking at Harry; the other one was pointing into the back of his head. â€Å"Did he get you?† Moody growled. His voice was low and gravelly. â€Å"No,† said Harry, â€Å"missed.† â€Å"LEAVE IT!† Moody shouted. â€Å"Leave – what?† Harry said, bewildered. â€Å"Not you – him!† Moody growled, jerking his thumb over his shoulder at Crabbe, who had just frozen, about to pick up the white ferret. It seemed that Moody’s rolling eye was magical and could see out of the back of his head. Moody started to limp toward Crabbe, Goyle, and the ferret, which gave a terrified squeak and took off, streaking toward the dungeons. â€Å"I don’t think so!† roared Moody, pointing his wand at the ferret again – it flew ten feet into the air, fell with a smack to the floor, and then bounced upward once more. â€Å"I don’t like people who attack when their opponent’s back’s turned,† growled Moody as the ferret bounced higher and higher, squealing in pain. â€Å"Stinking, cowardly, scummy thing to do†¦Ã¢â‚¬  The ferret flew through the air, its legs and tail flailing helplessly. â€Å"Never – do – that – again -† said Moody, speaking each word as the ferret hit the stone floor and bounced upward again. â€Å"Professor Moody!† said a shocked voice. Professor McGonagall was coming down the marble staircase with her arms full of books. â€Å"Hello, Professor McGonagall,† said Moody calmly, bouncing the ferret still higher. â€Å"What – what are you doing?† said Professor McGonagall, her eyes following the bouncing ferret’s progress through the air. â€Å"Teaching,† said Moody. â€Å"Teach – Moody, is that a student?† shrieked Professor McGonagall, the books spilling out of her arms. â€Å"Yep,† said Moody. â€Å"No!† cried Professor McGonagall, running down the stairs and pulling out her wand; a moment later, with a loud snapping noise, Draco Malfoy had reappeared, lying in a heap on the floor with his sleek blond hair all over his now brilliantly pink face. He got to his feet, wincing. â€Å"Moody, we never use Transfiguration as a punishment!† said Professor McGonagall wealdy. â€Å"Surely Professor Dumbledore told you that?† â€Å"He might’ve mentioned it, yeah,† said Moody, scratching his chin unconcernedly, â€Å"but I thought a good sharp shock -â€Å" â€Å"We give detentions, Moody! Or speak to the offender’s Head of House!† â€Å"I’ll do that, then,† said Moody, staring at Malfoy with great dislike. Malfoy, whose pale eyes were still watering with pain and humiliation, looked malevolently up at Moody and muttered something in which the words â€Å"my father† were distinguishable. â€Å"Oh yeah?† said Moody quietly, limping forward a few steps, the dull clunk of his wooden leg echoing around the hall. â€Å"Well, I know your father of old, boy†¦.You tell him Moody’s keeping a close eye on his son†¦you tell him that from me†¦.Now, your Head of House’ll be Snape, will it?† â€Å"Yes,† said Malfoy resentfully. â€Å"Another old friend,† growled Moody. â€Å"I’ve been looking forward to a chat with old Snape†¦.Come on, you†¦Ã¢â‚¬  And he seized Malfoy’s upper arm and marched him off toward the dungeons. Professor McGonagall stared anxiously after them for a few moments, then waved her wand at her fallen books, causing them to soar up into the air and back into her arms. â€Å"Don’t talk to me,† Ron said quietly to Harry and Hermione as they sat down at the Gryffindor table a few minutes later, surrounded by excited talk on all sides about what had just happened. â€Å"Why not?† said Hermione in surprise. â€Å"Because I want to fix that in my memory forever,† said Ron, his eyes closed and an uplifted expression on his face. â€Å"Draco Malfoy, the amazing bouncing ferret.† Harry and Hermione both laughed, and Hermione began doling beef casserole onto each of their plates. â€Å"He could have really hurt Malfoy, though,† she said. â€Å"It was good, really, that Professor McGonagall stopped it -â€Å" â€Å"Hermione!† said Ron furiously, his eyes snapping open again, â€Å"you’re ruining the best moment of my life!† Hermione made an impatient noise and began to eat at top speed again. â€Å"Don’t tell me you’re going back to the library this evening?† said Harry, watching her. â€Å"Got to,† said Hermione thickly. â€Å"Loads to do.† â€Å"But you told us Professor Vector -â€Å" â€Å"It’s not schoolwork,† she said. Within five minutes, she had cleared her plate and departed. No sooner had she gone than her seat was taken by Fred Weasley. â€Å"Moody!† he said. â€Å"How cool is he?† â€Å"Beyond cool,† said George, sitting down opposite Fred. â€Å"Supercool,† said the twins’ best friend, Lee Jordan, sliding into the seat beside George. â€Å"We had him this afternoon,† he told Harry and Ron. â€Å"What was it like?† said Harry eagerly. Fred, George, and Lee exchanged looks full of meaning. â€Å"Never had a lesson like it,† said Fred. â€Å"He knows, man,† said Lee. â€Å"Knows what?† said Ron, leaning forward. â€Å"Knows what it’s like to be out there doing it,† said George impressively. â€Å"Doing what?† said Harry. â€Å"Fighting the Dark Arts,† said Fred. â€Å"He’s seen it all,† said George. â€Å"‘Mazing,† said Lee. Ron dived into his bag for his schedule. â€Å"We haven’t got him till Thursday!† he said in a disappointed voice. Chapter 13 Madeye Moody â€Å"Herbology with the Hufflepuffs and Care of Magical Creatures†¦damn it, we’re still with the Slytherins†¦.† â€Å"Double Divination this afternoon,† Harry groaned, looking down. Divination was his least favorite subject, apart from Potions. Professor Trelawney kept predicting Harry’s death, which he found extremely annoying. â€Å"You should have given it up like me, shouldn’t you?† said Hermione briskly, buttering herself some toast. â€Å"Then you’d be doing something sensible like Arithmancy.† â€Å"You’re eating again, I notice,† said Ron, watching Hermione adding liberal amounts of jam to her toast too. â€Å"I’ve decided there are better ways of making a stand about elf rights,† said Hermione haughtily. â€Å"Yeah†¦and you were hungry,† said Ron, grinning. There was a sudden rustling noise above them, and a hundred owls came soaring through the open windows carrying the morning mail. Instinctively, Harry looked up, but there was no sign of white among the mass of brown and gray. The owls circled the tables, looking for the people to whom their letters and packages were addressed. A large tawny owl soared down to Neville Longbottom and deposited a parcel into his lap – Neville almost always forgot to pack something. On the other side of the Hall Draco Malfoy’s eagle owl had landed on his shoulder, carrying what looked like his usual supply of sweets and cakes from home. Trying to ignore the sinking feeling of disappointment in his stomach, Harry returned to his porridge. Was it possible that something had happened to Hedwig, and that Sirius hadn’t even got his letter? His preoccupation lasted all the way across the sodden vegetable patch until they arrived in greenhouse three, but here he was distracted by Professor Sprout showing the class the ugliest plants Harry had ever seen. Indeed, they looked less like plants than thick, black, giant slugs, protruding vertically out of the soil. Each was squirming slightly and had a number of large, shiny swellings upon it, which appeared to be full of liquid. â€Å"Bubotubers,† Professor Sprout told them briskly. â€Å"They need squeezing. You will collect the pus -â€Å" â€Å"The what?† said Seamus Finnigan, sounding revolted. â€Å"Pus, Finnigan, pus,† said Professor Sprout, â€Å"and it’s extremely valuable, so don’t waste it. You will collect the pus, I say, in these bottles. Wear your dragon-hide gloves; it can do funny things to the skin when undiluted, bubotuber pus.† Squeezing the bubotubers was disgusting, but oddly satisfying. As each swelling was popped, a large amount of thick yellowish-green liquid burst forth, which smelled strongly of petrol. They caught it in the bottles as Professor Sprout had indicated, and by the end of the lesson had collected several pints. â€Å"This’ll keep Madam Pomfrey happy,† said Professor Sprout, stoppering the last bottle with a cork. â€Å"An excellent remedy for the more stubborn forms of acne, bubotuber pus. Should stop students resorting to desperate measures to rid themselves of pimples.† â€Å"Like poor Eloise Midgen,† said Hannah Abbott, a Hufflepuff, in a hushed voice. â€Å"She tried to curse hers off.† â€Å"Silly girl,† said Professor Sprout, shaking her head. â€Å"But Madam Pomfrey fixed her nose back on in the end.† A booming bell echoed from the castle across the wet grounds, signaling the end of the lesson, and the class separated; the Hufflepuffs climbing the stone steps for Transfiguration, and the Gryffindors heading in the other direction, down the sloping lawn toward Hagrid’s small wooden cabin, which stood on the edge of the Forbidden Forest. Hagrid was standing outside his hut, one hand on the collar of his enormous black boarhound, Fang. There were several open wooden crates on the ground at his feet, and Fang was whimpering and straining at his collar, apparently keen to investigate the contents more closely. As they drew nearer, an odd rattling noise reached their ears, punctuated by what sounded like minor explosions. â€Å"Mornin’!† Hagrid said, grinning at Harry, Ron, and Hermione. â€Å"Be’er wait fer the Slytherins, they won’ want ter miss this – Blast-Ended Skrewts!† â€Å"Come again?† said Ron. Hagrid pointed down into the crates. â€Å"Eurgh!† squealed Lavender Brown, jumping backward. â€Å"Eurgh† just about summed up the Blast-Ended Skrewts in Harry’s opinion. They looked like deformed, shell-less lobsters, horribly pale and slimy-looking, with legs sticking out in very odd places and no visible heads. There were about a hundred of them in each crate, each about six inches long, crawling over one another, bumping blindly into the sides of the boxes. They were giving off a very powerful smell of rotting fish. Every now and then, sparks would fly out of the end of a skrewt, and with a small phut, it would be propelled forward several inches. â€Å"On’y jus’ hatched,† said Hagrid proudly, â€Å"so yeh’ll be able ter raise ’em yerselves! Thought we’d make a bit of a project of it!† â€Å"And why would we want to raise them?† said a cold voice. The Slytherins had arrived. The speaker was Draco Malfoy. Crabbe and Goyle were chuckling appreciatively at his words. Hagrid looked stumped at the question. â€Å"I mean, what do they do?† asked Malfoy. â€Å"What is the point of them?† Hagrid opened his mouth, apparently thinking hard; there was a few seconds’ pause, then he said roughly, â€Å"Tha’s next lesson, Malfoy. Yer jus’ feedin’ ’em today. Now, yeh’ll wan’ ter try ’em on a few diff’rent things – I’ve never had ’em before, not sure what they’ll go fer – I got ant eggs an’ frog livers an’ a bit o’ grass snake – just try ’em out with a bit of each.† â€Å"First pus and now this,† muttered Seamus. Nothing but deep affection for Hagrid could have made Harry, Ron, and Hermione pick up squelchy handfuls of frog liver and lower them into the crates to tempt the Blast-Ended Skrewts. Harry couldn’t suppress the suspicion that the whole thing was entirely pointless, because the skrewts didn’t seem to have mouths. â€Å"Ouch!† yelled Dean Thomas after about ten minutes. â€Å"It got me.† Hagrid hurried over to him, looking anxious. â€Å"Its end exploded!† said Dean angrily, showing Hagrid a burn on his hand. â€Å"Ah, yeah, that can happen when they blast off,† said Hagrid, nodding. â€Å"Eurgh!† said Lavender Brown again. â€Å"Eurgh, Hagrid, what’s that pointy thing on it?† â€Å"Ah, some of ’em have got stings,† said Hagrid enthusiastically (Lavender quickly withdrew her hand from the box). â€Å"I reckon they’re the males†¦.The females’ve got sorta sucker things on their bellies†¦.I think they might be ter suck blood.† â€Å"Well, I can certainly see why we’re trying to keep them alive,† said Malfoy sarcastically. â€Å"Who wouldn’t want pets that can burn, sting, and bite all at once?† â€Å"Just because they’re not very pretty, it doesn’t mean they’re not useful,† Hermione snapped. â€Å"Dragon blood’s amazingly magical, but you wouldn’t want a dragon for a pet, would you?† Harry and Ron grinned at Hagrid, who gave them a furtive smile from behind his bushy beard. Hagrid would have liked nothing better than a pet dragon, as Harry, Ron, and Hermione knew only too well – he had owned one for a brief period during their first year, a vicious Norwegian Ridgeback by the name of Norbert. Hagrid simply loved monstrous creatures, the more lethal, the better. â€Å"Well, at least the skrewts are small,† said Ron as they made their way back up to the castle for lunch an hour later. â€Å"They are now,† said Hermione in an exasperated voice, â€Å"but once Hagrid’s found out what they eat, I expect they’ll be six feet long.† â€Å"Well, that won’t matter if they turn out to cure seasickness or something, will it?† said Ron, grinning slyly at her. â€Å"You know perfectly well I only said that to shut Malfoy up,† said Hermione. â€Å"As a matter of fact I think he’s right. The best thing to do would be to stamp on the lot of them before they start attacking us all.† They sat down at the Gryffindor table and helped themselves to lamb chops and potatoes. Hermione began to eat so fast that Harry and Ron stared at her. â€Å"Er – is this the new stand on elf rights?† said Ron. â€Å"You’re going to make yourself puke instead?† â€Å"No,† said Hermione, with as much dignity as she could muster with her mouth bulging with sprouts. â€Å"I just want to get to the library.† â€Å"What?† said Ron in disbelief. â€Å"Hermione – it’s the first day back! We haven’t even got homework yet!† Hermione shrugged and continued to shovel down her food as though she had not eaten for days. Then she leapt to her feet, said, â€Å"See you at dinner!† and departed at high speed. When the bell rang to signal the start of afternoon lessons, Harry and Ron set off for North Tower where, at the top of a tightly spiraling staircase, a silver stepladder led to a circular trapdoor in the ceiling, and the room where Professor Trelawney lived. The familiar sweet perfume spreading from the fire met their nostrils as they emerged at the top of the stepladder. As ever, the curtains were all closed; the circular room was bathed in a dim reddish light cast by the many lamps, which were all draped with scarves and shawls. Harry and Ron walked through the mass of occupied chintz chairs and poufs that cluttered the room, and sat down at the same small circular table. â€Å"Good day,† said the misty voice of Professor Trelawney right behind Harry, making him jump. A very thin woman with enormous glasses that made her eyes appear far too large for her face, Professor Trelawney was peering down at Harry with the tragic expression she always wore whenever she saw him. The usual large amount of beads, chains, and bangles glittered upon her person in the firelight. â€Å"You are preoccupied, my dear,† she said mournfully to Harry. â€Å"My inner eye sees past your brave face to the troubled soul within. And I regret to say that your worries are not baseless. I see difficult times ahead for you, alas†¦most difficult†¦I fear the thing you dread will indeed come to pass†¦.and perhaps sooner than you think†¦Ã¢â‚¬  Her voice dropped almost to a whisper. Ron rolled his eyes at Harry, who looked stonily back. Professor Trelawney swept past them and seated herself in a large winged armchair before the fire, facing the class. Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil, who deeply admired Professor Trelawney, were sitting on poufs very close to her. â€Å"My dears, it is time for us to consider the stars,† she said. â€Å"The movements of the planets and the mysterious portents they reveal only to those who understand the steps of the celestial dance. Human destiny may be deciphered by the planetary rays, which intermingle†¦.† But Harry’s thoughts had drifted. The perfumed fire always made him feel sleepy and dull-witted, and Professor Trelawney’s rambling talks on fortune-telling never held him exactly spellbound – though he couldn’t help thinking about what she had just said to him. â€Å"I fear the thing you dread will indeed come to pass†¦Ã¢â‚¬  But Hermione was right, Harry thought irritably, Professor Trelawney really was an old fraud. He wasn’t dreading anything at the moment at all†¦well, unless you counted his fears that Sirius had been caught†¦but what did Professor Trelawney know? He had long since come to the conclusion that her brand of fortunetelling was really no more than lucky guesswork and a spooky manner. Except, of course, for that time at the end of last term, when she had made the prediction about Voldemort rising again†¦and Dumbledore himself had said that he thought that trance had been genuine, when Harry had described it to him. â€Å"Harry!† Ron muttered. â€Å"What?† Harry looked around; the whole class was staring at him. He sat up straight; he had been almost dozing off, lost in the heat and his thoughts. â€Å"I was saying, my dear, that you were clearly born under the baleful influence of Saturn,† said Professor Trelawney, a faint note of resentment in her voice at the fact that he had obviously not been hanging on her words. â€Å"Born under – what, sorry?† said Harry. â€Å"Saturn, dear, the planet Saturn!† said Professor Trelawney, sounding definitely irritated that he wasn’t riveted by this news. â€Å"I was saying that Saturn was surely in a position of power in the heavens at the moment of your birth†¦.Your dark hair†¦your mean stature†¦tragic losses so young in life†¦I think I am right in saying, my dear, that you were born in midwinter?† â€Å"No,† said Harry, â€Å"I was born in July.† Ron hastily turned his laugh into a hacking cough. Half an hour later, each of them had been given a complicated circular chart, and was attempting to fill in the position of the planets at their moment of birth. It was dull work, requiring much consultation of timetables and calculation of angles. â€Å"I’ve got two Neptunes here,† said Harry after a while, frowning down at his piece of parchment, â€Å"that can’t be right, can it?† â€Å"Aaaaah,† said Ron, imitating Professor Trelawney’s mystical whisper, â€Å"when two Neptunes appear in the sky, it is a sure sign that a midget in glasses is being born, Harry†¦.† Seamus and Dean, who were working nearby, sniggered loudly, though not loudly enough to mask the excited squeals from Lavender Brown – â€Å"Oh Professor, look! I think I’ve got an unaspected planet! Oooh, which one’s that, Professor?† â€Å"It is Uranus, my dear,† said Professor Trelawney, peering down at the chart. â€Å"Can I have a look at Uranus too, Lavender?† said Ron. Most unfortunately, Professor Trelawney heard him, and it was this, perhaps, that made her give them so much homework at the end of the class. â€Å"A detailed analysis of the way the planetary movements in the coming month will affect you, with reference to your personal chart,† she snapped, sounding much more like Professor McGonagall than her usual airy-fairy self. â€Å"I want it ready to hand in next Monday, and no excuses!† â€Å"Miserable old bat,† said Ron bitterly as they joined the crowds descending the staircases back to the Great Hall and dinner. â€Å"That’ll take all weekend, that will†¦Ã¢â‚¬  â€Å"Lots of homework?† said Hermione brightly, catching up with them. â€Å"Professor Vector didn’t give us any at all!† â€Å"Well, bully for Professor Vector,† said Ron moodily. They reached the entrance hall, which was packed with people queuing for dinner. They had just joined the end of the line, when a loud voice rang out behind them. â€Å"Weasley! Hey, Weasley!† Harry, Ron, and Hermione turned. Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle were standing there, each looking thoroughly pleased about something. â€Å"What?† said Ron shortly. â€Å"Your dad’s in the paper, Weasley!† said Malfoy, brandishing a copy of the Daily Prophet and speaking very loudly, so that everyone in the packed entrance hall could hear. â€Å"Listen to this! FURTHER MISTAKES AT THE MINISTRY OF MAGIC It seems as though the Ministry of Magic’s troubles are not yet at an end, writes Rita Skeeter, Special Correspondent. Recently under fire for its poor crowd control at the Quidditch World Cup, and still unable to account for the disappearance of one of its witches, the Ministry was plunged into fresh embarrassment yesterday by the antics of Arnold Weasley, of the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office.† Malfoy looked up. â€Å"Imagine them not even getting his name right, Weasley. It’s almost as though he’s a complete nonentity, isn’t it?† he crowed. Everyone in the entrance hall was listening now. Malfoy straightened the paper with a flourish and read on: Arnold Weasley, who was charged with possession of a flying car two years ago, was yesterday involved in a tussle with several Muggle law-keepers (â€Å"policemen†) over a number of highly aggressive dustbins. Mr. Weasley appears to have rushed to the aid of â€Å"Mad-Eye† Moody, the aged ex-Auror who retired from the Ministry when no longer able to tell the difference between a handshake and attempted murder. Unsurprisingly, Mr. Weasley found, upon arrival at Mr. Moody’s heavily guarded house, that Mr. Moody had once again raised a false alarm. Mr. Weasley was forced to modify several memories before he could escape from the policemen, but refused to answer Daily Prophet questions about why he had involved the Ministry in such an undignified and potentially embarrassing scene. â€Å"And there’s a picture, Weasley!† said Malfoy, flipping the paper over and holding it up. â€Å"A picture of your parents outside their house – if you can call it a house! Your mother could do with losing a bit of weight, couldn’t she?† Ron was shaking with fury. Everyone was staring at him. â€Å"Get stuffed, Malfoy,† said Harry. â€Å"C’mon, Ron†¦Ã¢â‚¬  â€Å"Oh yeah, you were staying with them this summer, weren’t you, Potter?† sneered Malfoy. â€Å"So tell me, is his mother really that porky, or is it just the picture?† â€Å"You know your mother, Malfoy?† said Harry – both he and Hermione had grabbed the back of Ron’s robes to stop him from launching himself at Malfoy – â€Å"that expression she’s got, like she’s got dung under her nose? Has she always looked like that, or was it just because you were with her?† Malfoy’s pale face went slightly pink. â€Å"Don’t you dare insult my mother, Potter.† â€Å"Keep your fat mouth shut, then,† said Harry, turning away. BANG! Several people screamed – Harry felt something white-hot graze the side of his face – he plunged his hand into his robes for his wand, but before he’d even touched it, he heard a second loud BANG, and a roar that echoed through the entrance hall. â€Å"OH NO YOU DON’T, LADDIE!† Harry spun around. Professor Moody was limping down the marble staircase. His wand was out and it was pointing right at a pure white ferret, which was shivering on the stone-flagged floor, exactly where Malfoy had been standing. There was a terrified silence in the entrance hall. Nobody but Moody was moving a muscle. Moody turned to look at Harry – at least, his normal eye was looking at Harry; the other one was pointing into the back of his head. â€Å"Did he get you?† Moody growled. His voice was low and gravelly. â€Å"No,† said Harry, â€Å"missed.† â€Å"LEAVE IT!† Moody shouted. â€Å"Leave – what?† Harry said, bewildered. â€Å"Not you – him!† Moody growled, jerking his thumb over his shoulder at Crabbe, who had just frozen, about to pick up the white ferret. It seemed that Moody’s rolling eye was magical and could see out of the back of his head. Moody started to limp toward Crabbe, Goyle, and the ferret, which gave a terrified squeak and took off, streaking toward the dungeons. â€Å"I don’t think so!† roared Moody, pointing his wand at the ferret again – it flew ten feet into the air, fell with a smack to the floor, and then bounced upward once more. â€Å"I don’t like people who attack when their opponent’s back’s turned,† growled Moody as the ferret bounced higher and higher, squealing in pain. â€Å"Stinking, cowardly, scummy thing to do†¦Ã¢â‚¬  The ferret flew through the air, its legs and tail flailing helplessly. â€Å"Never – do – that – again -† said Moody, speaking each word as the ferret hit the stone floor and bounced upward again. â€Å"Professor Moody!† said a shocked voice. Professor McGonagall was coming down the marble staircase with her arms full of books. â€Å"Hello, Professor McGonagall,† said Moody calmly, bouncing the ferret still higher. â€Å"What – what are you doing?† said Professor McGonagall, her eyes following the bouncing ferret’s progress through the air. â€Å"Teaching,† said Moody. â€Å"Teach – Moody, is that a student?† shrieked Professor McGonagall, the books spilling out of her arms. â€Å"Yep,† said Moody. â€Å"No!† cried Professor McGonagall, running down the stairs and pulling out her wand; a moment later, with a loud snapping noise, Draco Malfoy had reappeared, lying in a heap on the floor with his sleek blond hair all over his now brilliantly pink face. He got to his feet, wincing. â€Å"Moody, we never use Transfiguration as a punishment!† said Professor McGonagall wealdy. â€Å"Surely Professor Dumbledore told you that?† â€Å"He might’ve mentioned it, yeah,† said Moody, scratching his chin unconcernedly, â€Å"but I thought a good sharp shock -â€Å" â€Å"We give detentions, Moody! Or speak to the offender’s Head of House!† â€Å"I’ll do that, then,† said Moody, staring at Malfoy with great dislike. Malfoy, whose pale eyes were still watering with pain and humiliation, looked malevolently up at Moody and muttered something in which the words â€Å"my father† were distinguishable. â€Å"Oh yeah?† said Moody quietly, limping forward a few steps, the dull clunk of his wooden leg echoing around the hall. â€Å"Well, I know your father of old, boy†¦.You tell him Moody’s keeping a close eye on his son†¦you tell him that from me†¦.Now, your Head of House’ll be Snape, will it?† â€Å"Yes,† said Malfoy resentfully. â€Å"Another old friend,† growled Moody. â€Å"I’ve been looking forward to a chat with old Snape†¦.Come on, you†¦Ã¢â‚¬  And he seized Malfoy’s upper arm and marched him off toward the dungeons. Professor McGonagall stared anxiously after them for a few moments, then waved her wand at her fallen books, causing them to soar up into the air and back into her arms. â€Å"Don’t talk to me,† Ron said quietly to Harry and Hermione as they sat down at the Gryffindor table a few minutes later, surrounded by excited talk on all sides about what had just happened. â€Å"Why not?† said Hermione in surprise. â€Å"Because I want to fix that in my memory forever,† said Ron, his eyes closed and an uplifted expression on his face. â€Å"Draco Malfoy, the amazing bouncing ferret.† Harry and Hermione both laughed, and Hermione began doling beef casserole onto each of their plates. â€Å"He could have really hurt Malfoy, though,† she said. â€Å"It was good, really, that Professor McGonagall stopped it -â€Å" â€Å"Hermione!† said Ron furiously, his eyes snapping open again, â€Å"you’re ruining the best moment of my life!† Hermione made an impatient noise and began to eat at top speed again. â€Å"Don’t tell me you’re going back to the library this evening?† said Harry, watching her. â€Å"Got to,† said Hermione thickly. â€Å"Loads to do.† â€Å"But you told us Professor Vector -â€Å" â€Å"It’s not schoolwork,† she said. Within five minutes, she had cleared her plate and departed. No sooner had she gone than her seat was taken by Fred Weasley. â€Å"Moody!† he said. â€Å"How cool is he?† â€Å"Beyond cool,† said George, sitting down opposite Fred. â€Å"Supercool,† said the twins’ best friend, Lee Jordan, sliding into the seat beside George. â€Å"We had him this afternoon,† he told Harry and Ron. â€Å"What was it like?† said Harry eagerly. Fred, George, and Lee exchanged looks full of meaning. â€Å"Never had a lesson like it,† said Fred. â€Å"He knows, man,† said Lee. â€Å"Knows what?† said Ron, leaning forward. â€Å"Knows what it’s like to be out there doing it,† said George impressively. â€Å"Doing what?† said Harry. â€Å"Fighting the Dark Arts,† said Fred. â€Å"He’s seen it all,† said George. â€Å"‘Mazing,† said Lee. Ron dived into his bag for his schedule. â€Å"We haven’t got him till Thursday!† he said in a disappointed voice.

The Long War Movie Review Example | Topics and Well Written Essays - 250 words

The Long War - Movie Review Example However, there may never have been any need for such surveillance in the first place if the US had never underestimated al-Qaeda and other terrorist organisations. The line of thought of the United States is that since there were not many al-Qaeda members, they constituted little or no threats, so shouldn’t be monitored so much. This held until al-Qaeda, through the September 11 attack, proved what they were capable of. There were many options that could have been explored by the United States but they explored hard power more than they explored soft power. The application of coercion has not led to a reduction in the number of terrorist organisations and their members; it has, on the other hand increased their number. Rather than continually use coercion, Mark Sageman, one of the panellists, thinks the US could have relied more on negotiation, law enforcement and some political mechanisms. It must also be mentioned that the US seems not to be well informed to know that the Ta liban is very much different from al-Qaeda. Sometimes, rather than wage war on al-Qaeda, war is waged on the Taliban. Actually, in the opinion of Lawrence Wright of the Centre for Law and Security, al-Qaeda is not the enemy, Taliban is. The US indirectly encourages the merging of the two.

Ronald Reagan Essay Example | Topics and Well Written Essays - 500 words

Ronald Reagan - Essay Example Edmund ‘Pat’ Brown has been known as the â€Å"Republican Giant Killer† after defeating no less than a future president in the person of Richard Nixon. The latter being a highly favored GOP member. The popularity of Nixon as a Republican frontrunner proved no moment when Brown was able to defeat him. He then served as California governor for two consecutive terms when he faced an opponent whom he gravely underestimated, an actor running for the first time for public office in the name of Ronald Reagan. Brown and Reagan have more things in contrast than being from two rival parties. Brown represented the proud Democrat who sees student activism as a healthy exercise of civic participation while Reagan outwardly denounces it and speaks that they should not belong in universities if all they would cause is unrest. The student protests were heavily denounced by Reagan who was heard by conservatives sharing the exact same sentiments. Taxes in the state were excruciatingly high and unrest was evident. Dunnell provides a sensible explanation, â€Å"The postwar baby boomers were of age to vote, and the middle of the road voters in both parties were fed up with the bureaucrats protecting their jobs with expensive programs† (391). The people of California at that pivotal moment were looking for a change in administration and Reagan was able to offer exactly that. Brown had not anticipated the ability of Reagan to deliver good, if not great, speeches at times when it was what was called for. People had become disappointed with liberalism that Reagan’s outwardly conservative stance impressed itself as a better alternative. The failure of expensive social programs has taken its toll on taxpayers and the liberal take on communism as a foreign policy created in the gubernatorial race a chance to reconsider existing state policies by the incumbent

The Need for Tougher Prisons Essay -- Argumentative Persuasive Topics

   The purpose of the prison system was meant to be a deterrent to crime, as a preventative measure and to those who have already committed crimes, it is supposed to keep them from coming back. Obviously this did not work, today there are overcrowded jails and courts that look to any other way to punish a criminal besides jail time. The other options do not work either, they have not reduced the prison population nor have they created a sort of fear of being punished that a tougher system might do(Faugeron 5). I think the prison system should be made tougher, and that the alternatives to prison be used in cases where the crime was very small and the criminal would benefit from some other form of punishment than prison. If the criminal has done something so bad as to end up in prison I would expect that they were being treated in a just fashion. Instead of the system trying to teach inmates a lesson there's a law that says that "a convicted offender retains all the rights which citizens in general have, except such as must be limited or forfeited to make it possible to administer a correctional or federal agency"(Hawkins 135). In short they are real citizens except that the correctional facility decides when they eat and sleep. I think all prisons should take away the special privileges of prisoners because the system is supposed to deter criminals from committing crimes and instead are inviting them for extended visits. The only way criminals are going to get the point is by creating a prison system that does not allow anything special for the people who have committed crimes and gets back the root of the purpose for having prisons. Prisons first used the theory of "changing his values so that he will not commit similar offen... ...9: 37. Cohen, Adam. "A Life for a Life." Time. Mar. 8, 1999: 30-35. Faugeron, Claude. "The Changing Functions of Imprisonment." Prisons 2000: An International Perspective on the Current State and Fututre of Imprisonment. Ed. Roger Matthews and PeterFrancis. MacMillian Press LTD.: London 1996. Hawkins, Gordon. The Prison, Policy and Practice. University of Chicago Press: Chicago, 1976. Laurence, John. A history of Capital Punishment. Citadel Press: New York, 1960. "Questions and Answers About the Death Penalty." Daily Tribune. 9 Jan. 1998: A4. Palmer, Ted. A Profile of Corrctional Effectiveness and New Directions for Research. State University of New York Press: Albany, 1994. Ten, C.L.. Crime, Guilt, and Punishment. Claredon Press: Oxford, 1987. Vass, Antony. Punishment, Custody, and the Community. Sage Publications: London, 1990.   

History of Israel Essay

For thousands of years, the small land of Israel has been the site of countless wars between people who claim, for many different reasons, the land as their own. The struggle persists up to this day, and blood continues to spill over what the world considers its Holy Land. Israel’s Biblical Past When one wishes to look at Israel’s history, it is important to study Israel’s Biblical account. This precious volume recounts Israel’s roots, her period of slavery in Egypt, her beginnings as separate tribes in the Promised Land, and the uniting of these tribes under a monarchy. Wood, 1986, p. 3) Fortunately, Biblical accounts of Israel are supported by archaeological data, which makes the information in the Bible historically valid and reliable. Israel is the chosen land for the chosen people. From the Bible, we see that this land was promised by God as reward for Abraham’s faithfulness and obedience to His word. Abraham is considered the Father of the Jewish Nation, and his descendants were the direct beneficiary of God’s covenant with him. However, the journey to the Promised Land would not be easy; it was wrought with so much pain and sacrifices. For quite a long time, the descendants of Abraham were slaves to the Egyptians. Still, they held on to God’s word, and when they were finally freed from slavery by Moses, they began their exodus from Egypt into the Canaan, the land that God has chosen for them. After a generation of wandering, the Jews finally arrived at Canaan. There, they settled as separate tribes, but was eventually unified under one king. Israel’s first king was Saul, but his greatest king was David. After a succession of kings, Israel was banished by God because of their sins. Muslims came to invade the land claiming it as their spiritual land as well. Thus, the Jewish nation lost their Promised Land once again. The Diaspora Since the time that the Jews lost Israel, they have been scattered all over the world. This dispersion is called the Diaspora, and has deeper meanings than mere physical separation or migration to other places. This Diaspora is meant to remind the Jews that they are meant to be together in Israel as God intended them to be. Thus the desire to return to their spiritual land abides even after thousands of years of Diaspora. This longing to return to Israel is made more acute by the persecution of Jews in almost every place they go. While there were isolated pockets of stability, the attempt to settle elsewhere was generally a failure, and they took this as a sign that it is time to return home. The Homecoming A hundred years after the crusades, Jews began to return to Israel in small trickles. Israel then was under Muslim rule, as it has stood when the Crusades failed to retake the land from them. During this time Israel was called Palestine to make the distinction between Jewish Israel. For hundreds of years the Jews made their slow excruciating homecoming, strengthened only by their faith in God that He shall soon restore them to their land. Slowly over many generations, the number of Jews continued to grow. This Jewish homecoming was encouraged by the internal rift within the Ottoman Empire. On one side, the Ottoman Empire was fighting the rebellious Bedouins, while fending off challenges to the legitimacy of the Ottoman State. (Lewis, 1996, p. 333) Gradually, these internal conflicts weakened the once mighty empire. Within the first decade of the twentieth century, the empire lost all of its territories, including Israel, their crown jewel. Thus, the Ottoman Empire was no more. Finally by the end of the nineteenth century, the population of Jews in Palestine was big enough to exert some pressure over Palestine. In 1897, the First Zionist Congress was convened. This Congress formally declared the intention to establish a Jewish state within Palestine that will be recognized by the international community. This move was supported by Britain and the United States, who declared their favor over the creation of an independent Jewish state. However, the declaration did not find steam as the influx of Jews slowed down in the early twentieth century. The resurgence came in the 1940’s when the Holocaust killed millions of Jews in Europe. This unspeakable horror wrought upon the Jews solidified their resolve to build their own country and galvanized support from the international community. After World War II, the United Nations declared that Palestine be split in two, one for the Arabs and one for the Jews. As expected, the Arab world raised their objections against the division. Violence erupted immediately after this announcement and continued unabated until David Ben-Gurion, in accordance with the UN Partition Plan, declared independence for the Jewish nation and the creation of the State of Israel in May 14, 1948. The Holy Wars Right after the creation of the Israeli state, neighboring Arab countries surrounded Israel and attacked them from all sides. With sheer resolve to defend their homeland, the fledgling nation with an inexperienced army was able to repel the invading forces. In fact, the Jewish army went so far as advancing their forces, and occupying territories outside their mandated boundaries; this includes most of the land allocated for the Arabs under the Partition Plan, and half of Jerusalem which was supposed to be a UN-controlled city. A ceasefire was successfully negotiated with current occupation defining the new boundaries of Israel. As a result of the Arab invasion, Israel now straddles a land much bigger than what was given to them in the UN Partition Plan. Hundreds of thousands of refugees from both fronts resulted from this war of Israeli independence. The Jewish refugees who have been expelled from Arab lands continue to flock to Israel, while Arab refugees displaced by the Israeli territory continue to settle along the border in UN-sanctioned refugee camps. Even up to this day, Jews and Arabs trapped in the conflict pray for safe passage. The Promise of Israel Arabs and Jews stare at each other across the border in an uneasy truce. Even up to this day, lasting peace is an elusive dream as extremists from both sides threaten war at any time. Israel has created a deep and far-reaching conflict that affects the entire world. Arab terrorists attack the United States and Britain for being staunch allies of Israel, and the United States, in retaliation, is now holding a war in Iraq. And the violence goes on. That the Holy Land of Israel shall be the site of such violence is indeed mankind’s collective tragedy. Where the story of Israel shall take us, we can never know, but this much I am sure of: the war over the Holy Land will never stop until we find it in our hearts to forgive and accept one another. Perhaps it is the fate of a Chosen Land to never find peace until humanity makes peace with each another. The promise of the Holy Land is the promise of peace, and it is incumbent upon us to bring that promise to its final fulfillment.

Essay about California Missions †Monuments or Tombstones

California Missions – Monuments or Tombstones? Most Californians are introduced to the California Mission system in one of two ways: in their early education, or when they first visit a mission. Unfortunately, both methods are prone to simplification or bias in conveying the history of the missions. What this has led to is Californians who are ignorant of the history of the land they walk on. Consequently, visitors to the missions treat them as mere tourist attractions, instead of trying to embrace and understand the complex issues the missions represent. The issue was brought sharply into focus for me recently, when I was in the cemetery of Mission Santa Barbara. It was a sunny afternoon and the tiny graveyard was crowded with†¦show more content†¦Then you construct a model of a mission out of sugar cubes. For most people, this is all they will learn about the missions unless they visit one. While each mission is unique, most of what you learn in one is the same. My first visit to a mission was as a child with my grandmother. We visited San Carlos Borromeo de Carmelo and San Juan Bautista. Both were presented as old churches that the Indians and Mexicans came to practice at and lived in. I looked through the glass cases and saw the tools and pictures and copies of the Bible. The placards described what the tools were used for and where the Bibles came from. The drawings showed Father Serra or the lands as they looked then. The recent tour I did of the missions showed that things had not changed much. In fact, by the 8th mission, I was bored by seeing the same tools in the same glass cases, bored and frustrated, because that was the knowledge most people were content to leave with. Now I will tell you why we shouldnt settle for artifacts with explanations of their use as the whole story. California had a population of at least 300,000 Native Americans who spoke at least 100 languages. These people lived on this land for centuries before the Spaniards showed up. Of course, you would never know that if you only learn from a mission or an elementary school. We are only told about the California Indians use of tools or baking of adobe

Language Of Routines And Joint Attention Essay - 1107 Words

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