I think that this chunk of chapter 6 would be good (or extracts of it):
“All right then,” Harry said. “Sounds pretty nicely wrapped up.” He sighed, scrubbing his palm over his head. “Or maybe the Dark Lord didn’t really die that night. Not completely. His spirit lingers, whispering to people in nightmares that bleed over into the waking world, searching for a way back into the living lands he swore to destroy, and now, in accordance with the ancient prophecy, he and I are locked in a deadly duel where the winner shall lose and the loser shall win—”
McGonagall’s head swiveled, and her eyes darted around, searching the street for listeners.
“I’m joking, Professor McGonagall,” Harry said with some annoyance. Jeebers, why did she always take everything so seriously -
A slow sinking sensation began to dawn in the pit of Harry’s stomach.
McGonagall looked at Harry with a calm expression. A very, very calm expression. Then a smile was put on. “Of course you are, Mr. Potter.”
Aw crap.
If Harry had needed to rationalize the wordless inference that had just flashed into his mind, it would have come out something like, “If I estimate the probability of McGonagall doing what I just saw as the result of carefully controlling herself, versus the probability distribution for all the things she would do naturally if I made a bad joke, then this behavior is significant evidence for her hiding something.”
But what Harry actually thought was, Aw crap.
Harry turned his own head to scan the street. Nope, no one nearby. “He’s not dead, is he,” Harry sighed.
“Mr. Potter—”
“The Dark Lord is alive. Of course he’s alive. It was an act of utter optimism for me to have even dreamed otherwise. I must have taken leave of my senses, I can’t imagine what I was thinking. Just because someone said that his body was found burned to a crisp, I can’t imagine why I would have thought he was dead. Clearly I have much left to learn about the art of proper pessimism.”
“Mr. Potter—”
“At least tell me there’s not really a prophecy...” But McGonagall was still giving him that bright, fixed smile. “Oh, you have got to be kidding me.”
“Mr. Potter, you shouldn’t go inventing things to worry about—”
“Are you actually going to tell me that? Imagine my reaction later, when I find out that there was something to worry about after all.”
McGonagall’s smile faltered.
Harry’s shoulders slumped. “I have a whole world of magic to analyze. I do not have time for this.”
I think that this chunk of chapter 6 would be good (or extracts of it):
N.B. I haven’t listened to the podcast.