“ — LETTER FROM DUMBLEDORE LAST NIGHT, I THOUGHT YOUR FATHER WOULD DIE OF SHAME, WE DIDN’T BRING YOU UP TO BEHAVE LIKE THIS, YOU 6 страница

derstood, as Snape unrolled today’s issue of the Evening Prophet.

“You were seen, ” he hissed, showing them the headline: FLY-

ING FORD ANGLIA MYSTIFIES MUGGLES. He began to read

aloud: “Two Muggles in London, convinced they saw an old car flying over the Post Office tower. . . at noon in Norfolk, Mrs. Hetty Bayliss, while hanging out her washing. . . Mr. Angus Fleet, of Peebles, reported to police. . . Six or seven Muggles in all. I be-

lieve your father works in the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office? ”

he said, looking up at Ron and smiling still more nastily. “Dear, dear. . . his own son. . . ”

Harry felt as though he’d just been walloped in the stomach by one of the mad tree’s larger branches. If anyone found out Mr. Weasley had bewitched the car. . . he hadn’t thought of that. . . . “I noticed, in my search of the park, that considerable damage seems to have been done to a very valuable Whomping Willow, ” Snape went on.

“That tree did more damage to us than we —” Ron blurted out.

“ Silence! ” snapped Snape again. “Most unfortunately, you are

not in my House and the decision to expel you does not rest with

me. I shall go and fetch the people who do have that happy power.

You will wait here. ”

Harry and Ron stared at each other, white-faced. Harry didn’t feel hungry anymore. He now felt extremely sick. He tried not to look at a large, slimy something suspended in green liquid on a

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CHAPTER FIVE

shelf behind Snape’s desk. If Snape had gone to fetch Professor McGonagall, head of Gryffindor House, they were hardly any bet- ter off. She might be fairer than Snape, but she was still extremely strict.

Ten minutes later, Snape returned, and sure enough it was Pro- fessor McGonagall who accompanied him. Harry had seen Profes- sor McGonagall angry on several occasions, but either he had forgotten just how thin her mouth could go, or he had never seen her this angry before. She raised her wand the moment she entered; Harry and Ron both flinched, but she merely pointed it at the empty fireplace, where flames suddenly erupted.

“Sit, ” she said, and they both backed into chairs by the fire. “Explain, ” she said, her glasses glinting ominously.

Ron launched into the story, starting with the barrier at the sta- tion refusing to let them through.

“— so we had no choice, Professor, we couldn’t get on the train. ”

“Why didn’t you send us a letter by owl? I believe you have an

owl? ” Professor McGonagall said coldly to Harry.

Harry gaped at her. Now she’d said it, that seemed the obvious thing to have done.

“I — I didn’t think —”

“That, ” said Professor McGonagall, “is obvious. ” There was a knock on the office door and Snape, now looking happier than ever, opened it. There stood the headmaster, Professor Dumbledore.

Harry’s whole body went numb. Dumbledore was looking un- usually grave. He stared down his very crooked nose at them, and

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THE WHOMPING WILLOW

Harry suddenly found himself wishing he and Ron were still being beaten up by the Whomping Willow.

There was a long silence. Then Dumbledore said, “Please ex- plain why you did this. ”

It would have been better if he had shouted. Harry hated the dis- appointment in his voice. For some reason, he was unable to look Dumbledore in the eyes, and spoke instead to his knees. He told Dumbledore everything except that Mr. Weasley owned the be- witched car, making it sound as though he and Ron had happened to find a flying car parked outside the station. He knew Dumble- dore would see through this at once, but Dumbledore asked no questions about the car. When Harry had finished, he merely con- tinued to peer at them through his spectacles.

“We’ll go and get our stuff, ” said Ron in a hopeless sort of voice. “What are you talking about, Weasley? ” barked Professor Mc- Gonagall.

“Well, you’re expelling us, aren’t you? ” said Ron. Harry looked quickly at Dumbledore.

“Not today, Mr. Weasley, ” said Dumbledore. “But I must im- press upon both of you the seriousness of what you have done. I will be writing to both your families tonight. I must also warn you that if you do anything like this again, I will have no choice but to expel you. ”

Snape looked as though Christmas had been canceled. He cleared his throat and said, “Professor Dumbledore, these boys have flouted the Decree for the Restriction of Underage Wizardry, caused serious damage to an old and valuable tree — surely acts of this nature —”

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CHAPTER FIVE

“It will be for Professor McGonagall to decide on these boys’ punishments, Severus, ” said Dumbledore calmly. “They are in her House and are therefore her responsibility. ” He turned to Professor McGonagall. “I must go back to the feast, Minerva, I’ve got to give out a few notices. Come, Severus, there’s a delicious-looking cus- tard tart I want to sample —”

Snape shot a look of pure venom at Harry and Ron as he allowed himself to be swept out of his office, leaving them alone with Pro- fessor McGonagall, who was still eyeing them like a wrathful eagle. “You’d better get along to the hospital wing, Weasley, you’re bleeding. ”

“Not much, ” said Ron, hastily wiping the cut over his eye with his sleeve. “Professor, I wanted to watch my sister being Sorted —” “The Sorting Ceremony is over, ” said Professor McGonagall. “Your sister is also in Gryffindor. ”

“Oh, good, ” said Ron.

“And speaking of Gryffindor —” Professor McGonagall said sharply, but Harry cut in: “Professor, when we took the car, term hadn’t started, so — so Gryffindor shouldn’t really have points taken from it — should it? ” he finished, watching her anxiously. Professor McGonagall gave him a piercing look, but he was sure she had almost smiled. Her mouth looked less thin, anyway.

“I will not take any points from Gryffindor, ” she said, and Harry’s heart lightened considerably. “But you will both get a de- tention. ”

It was better than Harry had expected. As for Dumbledore’s writing to the Dursleys, that was nothing. Harry knew perfectly well they’d just be disappointed that the Whomping Willow hadn’t squashed him flat.

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THE WHOMPING WILLOW

Professor McGonagall raised her wand again and pointed it at Snape’s desk. A large plate of sandwiches, two silver goblets, and a jug of iced pumpkin juice appeared with a pop.

“You will eat in here and then go straight up to your dormitory, ” she said. “I must also return to the feast. ”

When the door had closed behind her, Ron let out a long, low whistle.

“I thought we’d had it, ” he said, grabbing a sandwich. “So did I, ” said Harry, taking one, too.

“Can you believe our luck, though? ” said Ron thickly through a mouthful of chicken and ham. “Fred and George must’ve flown

that car five or six times and no Muggle ever saw them. ” He swal-

lowed and took another huge bite. “ Why couldn’t we get through

the barrier? ”

Harry shrugged. “We’ll have to watch our step from now on, though, ” he said, taking a grateful swig of pumpkin juice. “Wish we could’ve gone up to the feast. . . . ”

“She didn’t want us showing off, ” said Ron sagely. “Doesn’t want people to think it’s clever, arriving by flying car. ”

When they had eaten as many sandwiches as they could (the plate kept refilling itself), they rose and left the office, treading the familiar path to Gryffindor Tower. The castle was quiet; it seemed that the feast was over. They walked past muttering portraits and creaking suits of armor, and climbed narrow flights of stone stairs, until at last they reached the passage where the secret entrance to Gryffindor Tower was hidden, behind an oil painting of a very fat woman in a pink silk dress.

“Password? ” she said as they approached.

“Er —” said Harry.

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CHAPTER FIVE

They didn’t know the new year’s password, not having met a Gryffindor prefect yet, but help came almost immediately; they heard hurrying feet behind them and turned to see Hermione dashing toward them.

“ There you are! Where have you been? The most ridiculous ru-

mors — someone said you’d been expelled for crashing a flying

car —”

“Well, we haven’t been expelled, ” Harry assured her.

“You’re not telling me you did fly here? ” said Hermione, sound-

ing almost as severe as Professor McGonagall.

“Skip the lecture, ” said Ron impatiently, “and tell us the new password. ”

“It’s ‘wattlebird, ’” said Hermione impatiently, “but that’s not the point —”

Her words were cut short, however, as the portrait of the fat lady swung open and there was a sudden storm of clapping. It looked as though the whole of Gryffindor House was still awake, packed into the circular common room, standing on the lopsided tables and squashy armchairs, waiting for them to arrive. Arms reached through the portrait hole to pull Harry and Ron inside, leaving Hermione to scramble in after them.

“Brilliant! ” yelled Lee Jordan. “Inspired! What an entrance! Fly- ing a car right into the Whomping Willow, people’ll be talking about that one for years —”

“Good for you, ” said a fifth year Harry had never spoken to; someone was patting him on the back as though he’d just won a marathon; Fred and George pushed their way to the front of the crowd and said together, “Why couldn’t we’ve come in the car, eh? ”

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THE WHOMPING WILLOW

Ron was scarlet in the face, grinning embarrassedly, but Harry could see one person who didn’t look happy at all. Percy was visible over the heads of some excited first years, and he seemed to be try- ing to get near enough to start telling them off. Harry nudged Ron in the ribs and nodded in Percy’s direction. Ron got the point at once.

“Got to get upstairs — bit tired, ” he said, and the two of them started pushing their way toward the door on the other side of the room, which led to a spiral staircase and the dormitories.

“’Night, ” Harry called back to Hermione, who was wearing a scowl just like Percy’s.

They managed to get to the other side of the common room, still having their backs slapped, and gained the peace of the stair- case. They hurried up it, right to the top, and at last reached the door of their old dormitory, which now had a sign on it saying second years. They entered the familiar, circular room, with its five four-posters hung with red velvet and its high, narrow win- dows. Their trunks had been brought up for them and stood at the ends of their beds.

Ron grinned guiltily at Harry.

“I know I shouldn’t’ve enjoyed that or anything, but —” The dormitory door flew open and in came the other second year Gryffindor boys, Seamus Finnigan, Dean Thomas, and Neville Longbottom.

“ Unbelievable! ” beamed Seamus.

“Cool, ” said Dean.

“Amazing, ” said Neville, awestruck.

Harry couldn’t help it. He grinned, too.

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C H A P T E R S I X

GILDEROY LOCKHART

he next day, however, Harry barely grinned once. Things

started to go downhill from breakfast in the Great Hall. The

four long House tables were laden with tureens of porridge, plates of kippers, mountains of toast, and dishes of eggs and bacon, be- neath the enchanted ceiling (today, a dull, cloudy gray). Harry and Ron sat down at the Gryffindor table next to Hermione, who had

her copy of Voyages with Vampires propped open against a milk jug.

There was a slight stiffness in the way she said “’Morning, ” which told Harry that she was still disapproving of the way they had ar- rived. Neville Longbottom, on the other hand, greeted them cheer- fully. Neville was a round-faced and accident-prone boy with the worst memory of anyone Harry had ever met.

“Mail’s due any minute — I think Gran’s sending a few things I forgot. ”

Harry had only just started his porridge when, sure enough, there was a rushing sound overhead and a hundred or so owls

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GILDEROY LOCKHART

streamed in, circling the hall and dropping letters and packages into the chattering crowd. A big, lumpy package bounced off Neville’s head and, a second later, something large and gray fell into Hermione’s jug, spraying them all with milk and feathers.

“ Errol! ” said Ron, pulling the bedraggled owl out by the feet. Er-

rol slumped, unconscious, onto the table, his legs in the air and a damp red envelope in his beak.

“Oh, no —” Ron gasped.

“It’s all right, he’s still alive, ” said Hermione, prodding Errol gently with the tip of her finger.

“It’s not that — it’s that. ”

Ron was pointing at the red envelope. It looked quite ordinary to Harry, but Ron and Neville were both looking at it as though they expected it to explode.

“What’s the matter? ” said Harry.

“She’s — she’s sent me a Howler, ” said Ron faintly. “You’d better open it, Ron, ” said Neville in a timid whisper. “It’ll be worse if you don’t. My gran sent me one once, and I ignored it and” — he gulped — “it was horrible. ”

Harry looked from their petrified faces to the red envelope. “What’s a Howler? ” he said.

But Ron’s whole attention was fixed on the letter, which had be- gun to smoke at the corners.

“Open it, ” Neville urged. “It’ll all be over in a few minutes —” Ron stretched out a shaking hand, eased the envelope from Er- rol’s beak, and slit it open. Neville stuffed his fingers in his ears. A split second later, Harry knew why. He thought for a moment it

had exploded; a roar of sound filled the huge hall, shaking dust

from the ceiling.

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CHAPTER SIX

“ — STEALING THE CAR, I WOULDN’T HAVE BEEN SUR- PRISED IF THEY’D EXPELLED YOU, YOU WAIT TILL I GET HOLD OF YOU, I DON’T SUPPOSE YOU STOPPED TO THINK WHAT YOUR FATHER AND I WENT THROUGH

WHEN WE SAW IT WAS GONE —”

Mrs. Weasley’s yells, a hundred times louder than usual, made the plates and spoons rattle on the table, and echoed deafeningly off the stone walls. People throughout the hall were swiveling around to see who had received the Howler, and Ron sank so low in his chair that only his crimson forehead could be seen.

“ — LETTER FROM DUMBLEDORE LAST NIGHT, I THOUGHT YOUR FATHER WOULD DIE OF SHAME, WE DIDN’T BRING YOU UP TO BEHAVE LIKE THIS, YOU

AND HARRY COULD BOTH HAVE DIED —”

Harry had been wondering when his name was going to crop up. He tried very hard to look as though he couldn’t hear the voice that was making his eardrums throb.