"Well," said Ginny slowly, helping herself to a bit of egg too, "if you really want to talk to Sirius, I expect we could think of a way to do it...."
"Come on," said Harry dully. "With Umbridge policing the fires and reading all our mail?"
"The thing about growing up with Fred and George," said Ginny thoughtfully, "is that you sort of start thinking that anything's possible if you've got enough nerve."
Harry looked at her. Perhaps it was the effect of the chocolate-Lupin had always advised eating some after encounters with Dementors-or simply because he had finally spoken aloud the wish that had been burning inside him for a week, but he felt a bit more hopeful...."
Dumbledore now became very interested in a bird out on the windowsill, which gave Harry time to dry his eyes on the sheet.
"One can never have enough socks," said Dumbledore. "Another Christmas has come and gone and I didn't get a single pair. People will insist on giving me books."
It was only when he was back in bed that it struck Harry that Dumbledore might not have been entirely truthful. But then, he thought, as he shoved Scabbers off his pillow, it had been quite a personal question.
"How very rude of him."
"I told him I was."
Dumbledore opened his mouth to speak and then closed it again. Behind Harry, Fawkes the phoenix let out a low, soft, musical cry. To Harry's intense embarrassment, he suddenly realized that Dumbledore's bright blue eyes looked rather watery, and stared hastily at his own knees. When Dumbledore spoke, however, his voice was quite steady.
"I am very touched, Harry.”