“What's he done?” said Harry nervously as Hermione came back in with the
“Stuck his head in the water barrel,” said Hermione, putting the tankard
Hagrid came back, his long hair and beard sopping wet, wiping the water out
of his eyes.
“That's better,” he said, shaking his head like a dog and drenching them
all. “Listen, it was good of yeh ter come an' see me, I really —
Hagrid stopped dead, staring at Harry as though he'd only just realized he
“WHAT D'YEH THINK YOU'RE DOIN', EH?” he roared, so suddenly that they jumped
a foot in the air. “YEH'RE NOT TO GO WANDERIN' AROUND AFTER DARK, HARRY! AN,
YOU TWO! LETTIN' HIM!”
Hagrid strode over to Harry, grabbed his arm, and pulled him to the door.
“C'mon!” Hagrid said angrily. “I'm takin' yer all back up ter school, an'
don' let me catch yeh walkin' down ter see me after dark again. I'm not worth
THE BOGGART IN THE WARDROBE
Malfoy didn't reappear in classes until late on Thursday morning, when the
Slytherins and Gryffindors were halfway through double Potions. He swaggered
into the dungeon, his right arm covered in bandages and bound up in a sling,
acting, in Harry's opinion, as though he were the heroic survivor of some dreadful
“How is it, Draco?” simpered Pansy Parkinson. “Does it hurt much?”
“Yeah,” said Malfoy, putting on a brave sort of grimace. But Harry saw him
wink at Crabbe and Goyle when Pansy had looked away.
“Settle down, settle down,” said Professor Snape idly.
Harry and Ron scowled at each other; Snape wouldn't have said “settle down”
if they'd walked in late, he'd have given them detention. But Malfoy had always
been able to get away with anything in Snape's classes; Snape was head of Slytherin
House, and generality favored his own students above all others.
They were making a new potion today, a Shrinking Solution. Malfoy set up
his cauldron right next to Harry and Ron, so that they were preparing their
ingredients on the same table.
“Sir,” Malfoy called, “sir, I'll need help cutting up these daisy roots,
because of my arm —”
“Weasley, cut up Malfoy's roots for him,” said Snape without looking up.
Ron went brick red.
“There's nothing wrong with your arm,” he hissed at Malfoy.
Malfoy smirked across the table.
“Weasley, you heard Professor Snape; cut up these roots.”
Ron seized his knife, pulled Malfoy's roots toward him, and began to chop
them roughly, so that they were all different sizes.
“Professor,” drawled Malfoy, “Weasley's mutilating my roots, sit.”
Snape approached their table, stared down his hooked nose at the roots, then
gave Ron an unpleasant smile from beneath his long, greasy black hair.
“Change roots with Malfoy, Weasley.”
“But, sit —!”
Ron had spent the last quarter of an hour carefully shredding his own roots
into exactly equal pieces.
“Now,” said Snape in his most dangerous voice.
Ron shoved his own beautifully cut roots across the table a, Malfoy, then
took up the knife again.
“And, sir, I'll need this shrivelfig skinned,” said Malfoy, his voice full
of malicious laughter.
“Potter, you can skin Malfoy's shrivelfig,” said Snape, giving Harry the
look of loathing he always reserved just for him.
Harry took Malfoy's shrivelfig as Ron began trying to repair the damage to
the roots he now had to use. Harry skinned the shrivelfig as fast as he could
and flung it back across the table at Malfoy without speaking. Malfoy was smirking
more broadly than ever.
“Seen your pal Hagrid lately?” he asked them quietly.
“None of your business,” said Ron jerkily, without looking up.
“I'm afraid he won't be a teacher much longer,” said Malfoy in a tone of
mock sorrow. “Father's not very happy about my injury —”
“Keep talking, Malfoy, and I'll give you a real injury,” snarled Ron.
“he's complained to the school governors. And to the Ministry of Magic. Father's
got a lot of influence, you know. And a lasting injury like this”—he gave a
huge, fake sigh—”who knows if my arm'll ever be the same again?”
“So that's why you're putting it on,” said Harry, accidentally beheading
a dead caterpillar because his hand was shaking in anger. “To try to get Hagrid
“Well,” said Malfoy, lowering his voice to a whisper, “partly, Potter. But
there are other benefits too. Weasley, slice my caterpillars for me.”
A few cauldrons away, Neville was in trouble. Neville regularly went to pieces
in Potions lessons; it was his worst subject, and his great fear of Professor
Snape made things ten times worse. His potion, which was supposed to be a bright,
acid green, had turned —
“Orange, Longbottom,” said Snape, ladling some up and allowing to splash
back into the cauldron, so that everyone could see.
“Orange. Tell me, boy, does anything penetrate that thick skull of yours?
Didn't you hear me say, quite clearly, that only one -tat spleen was needed?
Didn't I state plainly that a dash of leech juice would suffice? What do I have
to do to make you understand, Longbottom?”
Neville was pink and trembling. He looked as though he was on the verge of
“Please, sir,” said Hermione, “please, I could help Neville put it right
“I don't remember asking you to show off, Miss Granger,” said Snape coldly,
and Hermione went as pink as Neville. “Longbottom, at the end of this lesson
we will feed a few drops of this potion to your toad and see what happens. Perhaps
that will encourage you to do it properly.”
Snape moved away, leaving Neville breathless with fear.
“Help me!” he moaned to Hermione.
“Hey, Harry,” said Seamus Finnigan, leaning over to borrow Harry's brass
scales, “have you heard? Daily Prophet this morning—they reckon Sirius Black's
“Where?” said Harry and Ron quickly. On the other side of the table, Malfoy
looked up, listening closely.
“Not too far from here,” said Seamus, who looked excited. “It was a Muggle
who saw him. 'Course, she didn't really understand. The Muggles think he's just
an ordinary criminal, don't they? So she phoned the telephone hot line. By the
time the Ministry of Magic got there, he was gone.”
“Not too far from here... “ Ron repeated, looking significantly at Harry.
He turned around and saw Malfoy watching closely. “What, Malfoy? Need something
But Malfoy's eyes were shining malevolently, and they were fixed Harry. He
leaned across the table.
Black single-handed, Potter?”
“Thinking Of trying to catch
“Yeah, that's right,” said Harry offhandedly.
Malfoys thin mouth was curving in a mean smile.
“Of course, if it was me,” he said quietly, “I'd have done something before
now. I wouldn't be staying in school like a good boy, I'd be out there looking
“What are you talking about, Malfoy?” said Ron roughly.
“Don't you know, Potter?” breathed Malfoy, his pate eyes narrowed.
Malfoy let out a low, sneering laugh.
“Maybe you'd rather not risk your neck,” he said. “Want to leave it to the
dementors, do you? But if it was me, I'd want revenge. I'd hunt him down myself.”
“What are you talking about?” said Harry angrily, but at that moment Snape
called, “You should have finished adding your ingredients by now; this potion
needs to stew before it can be drunk, so clear away while it simmers and then
we'll test Longbottom's... “
Crabbe and Goyle laughed openly, watching Neville sweat as he stirred his
potion feverishly. Hermione was muttering instructions to him out of the corner
of her mouth, so that Snape wouldn't see. Harry and Ron packed away their unused
ingredients and went to wash their hands and ladles in the stone basin in the
“What did Malfoy mean?” Harry muttered to Ron as he stuck his hands under
the icy jet that poured from the gargoyle's mouth “Why would I want revenge
on Black? He hasn't done anything to me—yet.
“He's making it up,” said Ron savagely. “He's trying to make you do something
The end of the lesson in sight, Snape strode over to Neville, who was cowering
by his cauldron.
“Everyone gather 'round,” said Snape, his black eyes glittering, and watch
what happens to Longbottom's toad. If he has managed to produce a Shrinking
Solution, it will shrink to a tadpole. If, as I don't doubt, he has done it
wrong, his toad is likely to be poisoned.”
The Gryffindors watched fearfully. The Slytherins looked excited. Snape picked
up Trevor the toad in his left hand and dipped a small spoon into Neville's
potion, which was now green. He trickled a few drops down Trevor's throat.
There was a moment of hushed silence, in which Trevor gulped; then there
was a small pop, and Trevor the tadpole was wriggling in Snape's palm.
The Gryffindors burst into applause. Snape, looking sour, pulled a small
bottle from the pocket of his robe, poured a few drops on top of Trevor, and
he reappeared suddenly, fully grown.
“Five points from Gryffindor,” said Snape, which wiped the smiles from every
face. “I told you not to help him, Miss Granger. Class dismissed.”
Harry, Ron, and Hermione climbed the steps to the entrance hall. Harry was
still thinking about what Malfoy had said, while Ron was seething about Snape.
“Five points from Gryffindor because the potion was all right!
Why didn't You lie, Hermione? You should've said Neville did it all by himself!”
Hermione didn't answer. Ron looked around.
“Where is she?”
Harry turned too. They were at the top of the steps now, watching the rest
of the class pass them, heading for the Great Hall and lunch.
“She was right behind us,” said Ron, frowning.
Malfoy passed them, walking between Crabbe and Goyle. He smirked at Harry
“There she is,” said Harry.
Hermione was panting slightly, hurrying up the stairs; one hand clutched
her bag, the other seemed to be tucking something down the front of her robes.
“How did you do that?” said Ron.
“What?” said Hermione, joining them.
“One minute you were right behind us, the next moment, you were back at the
bottom of the stairs again.”
“What?” Hermione looked slightly confused. “Oh—I had to go back for something.
Oh no —”
A seam had split on Hermione's bag. Harry wasn't surprised; he could see
that it was crammed with at least a dozen large and heavy books.
“Why are you carrying all these around with you?” Ron asked her.
“You know how many subjects I'm taking,” said Hermione breathlessly. “Couldn't
hold these for me, could you?”
“But —” Ron was turning over the books she had handed him, looking at the
covers. “You havent got any of these subjects today. It's only Defense Against
the Dark Arts this afternoon.”
“Oh yes,” said Hermione vaguely, but she packed all the books back into her
bag just the same. I hope there's something good for lunch, I'm starving,” she
added, and she marched off toward the Great Hall.
“D'you get the feeling Hermione's not telling us something?Ron asked Harry.
Professor Lupin wasn't there when they arrived at his first Defense Against
the Dark Arts lesson. They all sat down, took out their books, quills, and parchment,
and were talking when he finally entered the room. Lupin smiled vaguely and
placed his tatty old briefcase on the teacher's desk. He was as shabby as ever
but looked healthier than he had on the train, as though he had had a few square
“Good afternoon,” he said. “Would you please put all your books back in your
bags. Today's will be a practical lesson. You will need only your wands.”
A few curious looks were exchanged as the class put away their books. They
had never had a practical Defense Against the Dark Arts before, unless you counted
the memorable class last year when their old teacher had brought a cageful of
pixies -to class and set them loose.
“Right then,” said Professor Lupin, when everyone was ready. “If you'd follow
Puzzled but interested, the class got to its feet and followed Professor
Lupin out of the classroom. He led them along the deserted corridor and around
a corner, where the first thing they saw was Peeves the Poltergeist, who was
floating upside down in midair and stuffing the nearest keyhole with chewing
Peeves didn't look up until Professor Lupin was two feet away;,hen he wiggled
his curly-toed feet and broke into song.
“Loony, loopy Lupin,” Peeves sang. “Loony, loopy Lupin, loony, loopy Lupin
Rude and unmanageable as he almost always was, Peeves usually showed some
respect toward the teachers. Everyone looked quickly at Professor Lupin to see
how he would take this; to their surprise, he was still smiling.
“I'd take that gum out of the keyhole if I were you, Peeves,” he said pleasantly.
“Mr. Filch won't be able to get in to his brooms.”
Filch was the Hogwarts caretaker, a bad-tempered, failed wizard who waged
a constant war against the students and, indeed, Peeves. However, Peeves paid
no attention to Professor Lupin's words, except to blow a loud wet raspberry.
Professor Lupin gave a small sigh and took out his wand.
“This is a useful little spell, he told the class over his shoulder. “Please
He raised the wand to shoulder height, said, “Waddiwasi! “and pointed it
With the force of a bullet, the wad of chewing gum shot out of the keyhole
and straight down Peeves's left nostril; he whirled upright and zoomed away,
“Cool, sit!” said Dean Thomas in amazement.
“Thank you, Dean,” said Professor Lupin, putting his wand away again. “Shall
They set off again, the class looking at shabby Professor Lupin with increased
respect. He led them down a second corridor and stopped, right outside the staffroom