Ron, full of turkey and cake and with nothing mysterious to

bother him, fell asleep almost as soon as he'd drawn the curtains

of his four-poster. Harry leaned over the side of his own bed and

pulled the cloak out from under it.

His father's... this had been his father's. He let the material

flow over his hands, smoother than silk, light as air. Use it well,

the note had said.

He had to try it, now. He slipped out of bed and wrapped the

cloak around himself. Looking down at his legs, he saw only moonlight

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