Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince - J.K. Rowling

J.K. Rowling
HARRY POTTER AND THE HALF-BLOOD PRINCE
Yet this hopeful mood did not last long. Half an hour later, having tried
many more variations of his request to see what Malfoy was up to, the wall
was just as doorless as ever. Harry felt frustrated beyond belief; Malfoy
might be just feet away from him, and there was still not the tiniest shred of
evidence as to what he was doing in there. Losing his patience completely,
Harry ran at the wall and kicked it.
“OUCH!”
He thought he might have broken his toe; as he clutched it and hopped on
one foot, the Invisibility Cloak slipped off him.
“Harry?”
He spun around, one-legged, and toppled over. There, to his utter astonishment,
was Tonks, walking toward him as though she frequently strolled
up this corridor.
“What’re you doing here?” he said, scrambling to his feet again; why did
she always have to find him lying on the floor?
“I came to see Dumbledore,” said Tonks.
Harry thought she looked terrible: thinner than usual, her mouse-colored
hair lank.
“His office isn’t here,” said Harry, “it’s round the other side of the castle,
behind the gargoyle —”
“I know,” said Tonks. “He’s not there. Apparently he’s gone away
again.”
“Has he?” said Harry, putting his bruised foot gingerly back on the floor.
“Hey — you don’t know where he goes, I suppose?”
“No,” said Tonks.
“What did you want to see him about?”
“Nothing in particular,” said Tonks, picking, apparently unconsciously,
at the sleeve of her robe. “I just thought he might know what’s going on...
I’ve heard rumors... people getting hurt.”
“Yeah, I know, it’s all been in the papers,” said Harry. “That little kid
trying to kill his —”
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