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

J.K. Rowling
HARRY POTTER AND THE HALF-BLOOD PRINCE
common room, sneaked up to the boys’ dormitory.
Harry took out the rolled-up socks at the bottom of his trunk and extracted
the tiny, gleaming bottle.
“Well, here goes,” said Harry, and he raised the little bottle and took a
carefully measured gulp.
“What does it feel like?” whispered Hermione.
Harry did not answer for a moment. Then, slowly but surely, an exhilarating
sense of infinite opportunity stole through him; he felt as though he
could have done anything, anything at all... and getting the memory from
Slughorn seemed suddenly not only possible, but positively easy...
He got to his feet, smiling, brimming with confidence.
“Excellent,” he said. “Really excellent. Right... I’m going down to Hagrid’s.”
“What?” said Ron and Hermione together, looking aghast.
“No, Harry — you’ve got to go and see Slughorn, remember?” said Hermione.
“No,” said Harry confidently. “I’m going to Hagrid’s, I’ve got a good
feeling about going to Hagrid’s.”
“You’ve got a good feeling about burying a giant spider?” asked Ron,
looking stunned.
“Yeah,” said Harry, pulling his Invisibility Cloak out of his bag. “I feel
like it’s the place to be tonight, you know what I mean?”
“No,” said Ron and Hermione together, both looking positively alarmed
now.
“This is Felix Felicis, I suppose?” said Hermione anxiously, holding up
the bottle to the light. “You haven’t got another little bottle full of — I don’t
know —”
“Essence of Insanity?” suggested Ron, as Harry swung his Cloak over his
shoulders.
Harry laughed, and Ron and Hermione looked even more alarmed.
“Trust me,” he said. “I know what I’m doing... or at least” — he strolled
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