? — ABSOLUTELY DISGUSTED — YOUR FATHER’S FAC- ING AN INQUIRY AT WORK, IT’S ENTIRELY YOUR FAULT AND IF YOU PUT ANOTHER TOE OUT OF LINE WE’LL 7 страница

He looked up at Justin, grinning, expecting to see Justin looking

? 194‘

THE DUELING CLUB

relieved, or puzzled, or even grateful — but certainly not angry and scared.

“What do you think you’re playing at? ” he shouted, and before Harry could say anything, Justin had turned and stormed out of the hall.

Snape stepped forward, waved his wand, and the snake vanished in a small puff of black smoke. Snape, too, was looking at Harry in an unexpected way: It was a shrewd and calculating look, and Harry didn’t like it. He was also dimly aware of an ominous muttering all around the walls. Then he felt a tugging on the back of his robes.

“Come on, ” said Ron’s voice in his ear. “Move — come on —”

Ron steered him out of the hall, Hermione hurrying alongside them. As they went through the doors, the people on either side drew away as though they were frightened of catching something. Harry didn’t have a clue what was going on, and neither Ron nor Hermione explained anything until they had dragged him all the way up to the empty Gryffindor common room. Then Ron pushed Harry into an armchair and said, “You’re a Parselmouth. Why didn’t you tell us? ”

“I’m a what? ” said Harry.

“ A Parselmouth! ” said Ron. “You can talk to snakes! ”

“I know, ” said Harry. “I mean, that’s only the second time I’ve ever done it. I accidentally set a boa constrictor on my cousin Dud- ley at the zoo once — long story — but it was telling me it had never seen Brazil and I sort of set it free without meaning to — that was before I knew I was a wizard —”

“A boa constrictor told you it had never seen Brazil? ” Ron re- peated faintly.

? 195‘

CHAPTER ELEVEN

“So? ” said Harry. “I bet loads of people here can do it. ” “Oh, no they can’t, ” said Ron. “It’s not a very common gift. Harry, this is bad. ”

“What’s bad? ” said Harry, starting to feel quite angry. “What’s wrong with everyone? Listen, if I hadn’t told that snake not to at- tack Justin —”

“Oh, that’s what you said to it? ”

“What d’you mean? You were there — you heard me —” “I heard you speaking Parseltongue, ” said Ron. “Snake language. You could have been saying anything — no wonder Justin pan- icked, you sounded like you were egging the snake on or some- thing — it was creepy, you know —”

Harry gaped at him.

“I spoke a different language? But — I didn’t realize — how can I speak a language without knowing I can speak it? ”

Ron shook his head. Both he and Hermione were looking as though someone had died. Harry couldn’t see what was so terrible. “D’you want to tell me what’s wrong with stopping a massive

snake biting off Justin’s head? ” he said. “What does it matter how I

did it as long as Justin doesn’t have to join the Headless Hunt? ”

“It matters, ” said Hermione, speaking at last in a hushed voice, “because being able to talk to snakes was what Salazar Slytherin was famous for. That’s why the symbol of Slytherin House is a serpent. ” Harry’s mouth fell open.

“Exactly, ” said Ron. “And now the whole school’s going to think you’re his great-great-great-great-grandson or something —” “But I’m not, ” said Harry, with a panic he couldn’t quite explain. “You’ll find that hard to prove, ” said Hermione. “He lived about a thousand years ago; for all we know, you could be. ”

? 196‘

THE DUELING CLUB

? ‘‘

Harry lay awake for hours that night. Through a gap in the cur- tains around his four-poster he watched snow starting to drift past

the tower window and wondered. . .

Could he be a descendant of Salazar Slytherin? He didn’t know

anything about his father’s family, after all. The Dursleys had al- ways forbidden questions about his wizarding relatives.

Quietly, Harry tried to say something in Parseltongue. The words wouldn’t come. It seemed he had to be face-to-face with a

snake to do it.

But I’m in Gryffindor, Harry thought. The Sorting Hat wouldn’t

have put me in here if I had Slytherin blood. . . .

Ah, said a nasty little voice in his brain, but the Sorting Hat

wanted to put you in Slytherin, don’t you remember ?

Harry turned over. He’d see Justin the next day in Herbology and he’d explain that he’d been calling the snake off, not egging it on, which (he thought angrily, pummeling his pillow) any fool should have realized.

By next morning, however, the snow that had begun in the night had turned into a blizzard so thick that the last Herbology lesson of the term was canceled: Professor Sprout wanted to fit socks and scarves on the Mandrakes, a tricky operation she would entrust to no one else, now that it was so important for the Mandrakes to grow quickly and revive Mrs. Norris and Colin Creevey.

Harry fretted about this next to the fire in the Gryffindor com- mon room, while Ron and Hermione used their time off to play a game of wizard chess.

“For heaven’s sake, Harry, ” said Hermione, exasperated, as one

? 197‘

CHAPTER ELEVEN

of Ron’s bishops wrestled her knight off his horse and dragged him

off the board. “Go and find Justin if it’s so important to you. ”

So Harry got up and left through the portrait hole, wondering where Justin might be.

The castle was darker than it usually was in daytime because of the thick, swirling gray snow at every window. Shivering, Harry walked past classrooms where lessons were taking place, catching snatches of what was happening within. Professor McGonagall was shouting at someone who, by the sound of it, had turned his friend into a badger. Resisting the urge to take a look, Harry walked on by, thinking that Justin might be using his free time to catch up on some work, and deciding to check the library first.

A group of the Hufflepuffs who should have been in Herbology were indeed sitting at the back of the library, but they didn’t seem to be working. Between the long lines of high bookshelves, Harry could see that their heads were close together and they were hav- ing what looked like an absorbing conversation. He couldn’t see whether Justin was among them. He was walking toward them when something of what they were saying met his ears, and he paused to listen, hidden in the Invisibility section.

“So anyway, ” a stout boy was saying, “I told Justin to hide up in our dormitory. I mean to say, if Potter’s marked him down as his next victim, it’s best if he keeps a low profile for a while. Of course, Justin’s been waiting for something like this to happen ever since he

let slip to Potter he was Muggle-born. Justin actually told him he’d

been down for Eton. That’s not the kind of thing you bandy about with Slytherin’s heir on the loose, is it? ”

“You definitely think it is Potter, then, Ernie? ” said a girl with

blonde pigtails anxiously.

? 198‘

THE DUELING CLUB

“Hannah, ” said the stout boy solemnly, “he’s a Parselmouth. Everyone knows that’s the mark of a Dark wizard. Have you ever heard of a decent one who could talk to snakes? They called Slytherin himself Serpent-tongue. ”

There was some heavy murmuring at this, and Ernie went on,

“Remember what was written on the wall? Enemies of the Heir, Be-

ware. Potter had some sort of run-in with Filch. Next thing we know,

Filch’s cat’s attacked. That first year, Creevey, was annoying Potter at the Quidditch match, taking pictures of him while he was lying in the mud. Next thing we know — Creevey’s been attacked. ”

“He always seems so nice, though, ” said Hannah uncertainly, “and, well, he’s the one who made You-Know-Who disappear. He can’t be all bad, can he? ”

Ernie lowered his voice mysteriously, the Hufflepuffs bent closer, and Harry edged nearer so that he could catch Ernie’s words. “No one knows how he survived that attack by You-Know-Who. I mean to say, he was only a baby when it happened. He should have been blasted into smithereens. Only a really powerful Dark wizard could have survived a curse like that. ” He dropped his voice

until it was barely more than a whisper, and said, “ That’s probably

why You-Know-Who wanted to kill him in the first place. Didn’t

want another Dark Lord competing with him. I wonder what other

powers Potter’s been hiding? ”

Harry couldn’t take anymore. Clearing his throat loudly, he stepped out from behind the bookshelves. If he hadn’t been feeling so angry, he would have found the sight that greeted him funny: Every one of the Hufflepuffs looked as though they had been Pet- rified by the sight of him, and the color was draining out of Ernie’s face.

? 199‘

CHAPTER ELEVEN

“Hello, ” said Harry. “I’m looking for Justin Finch-Fletchley. ” The Hufflepuffs’ worst fears had clearly been confirmed. They all looked fearfully at Ernie.

“What do you want with him? ” said Ernie in a quavering voice. “I wanted to tell him what really happened with that snake at the Dueling Club, ” said Harry.

Ernie bit his white lips and then, taking a deep breath, said, “We were all there. We saw what happened. ”

“Then you noticed that after I spoke to it, the snake backed off? ” said Harry.

“All I saw, ” said Ernie stubbornly, though he was trembling as he spoke, “was you speaking Parseltongue and chasing the snake toward Justin. ”

“I didn’t chase it at him! ” Harry said, his voice shaking with

anger. “It didn’t even touch him! ”

“It was a very near miss, ” said Ernie. “And in case you’re getting ideas, ” he added hastily, “I might tell you that you can trace my family back through nine generations of witches and warlocks and my blood’s as pure as anyone’s, so —”

“I don’t care what sort of blood you’ve got! ” said Harry fiercely. “Why would I want to attack Muggle-borns? ”

“I’ve heard you hate those Muggles you live with, ” said Ernie swiftly.

“It’s not possible to live with the Dursleys and not hate them, ” said Harry. “I’d like to see you try it. ”

He turned on his heel and stormed out of the library, earning himself a reproving glare from Madam Pince, who was polishing the gilded cover of a large spellbook.

? 200‘

THE DUELING CLUB

Harry blundered up the corridor, barely noticing where he was going, he was in such a fury. The result was that he walked into something very large and solid, which knocked him backward onto the floor.

“Oh, hello, Hagrid, ” Harry said, looking up.

Hagrid’s face was entirely hidden by a woolly, snow-covered bal- aclava, but it couldn’t possibly be anyone else, as he filled most of the corridor in his moleskin overcoat. A dead rooster was hanging from one of his massive, gloved hands.

“All righ’, Harry? ” he said, pulling up the balaclava so he could speak. “Why aren’t yeh in class? ”

“Canceled, ” said Harry, getting up. “What’re you doing in here? ”

Hagrid held up the limp rooster.

“Second one killed this term, ” he explained. “It’s either foxes or a Blood-Suckin’ Bugbear, an’ I need the headmaster’s permission ter put a charm around the hen coop. ”

He peered more closely at Harry from under his thick, snow- flecked eyebrows.

“Yeh sure yeh’re all righ’? Yeh look all hot an’ bothered —” Harry couldn’t bring himself to repeat what Ernie and the rest of the Hufflepuffs had been saying about him.

“It’s nothing, ” he said. “I’d better get going, Hagrid, it’s Trans- figuration next and I’ve got to pick up my books. ”

He walked off, his mind still full of what Ernie had said about him.

“ Justin’s been waiting for something like this to happen ever since he

let slip to Potter he was Muggle-born. . . . ”

? 201‘

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Harry stamped up the stairs and turned along another corridor, which was particularly dark; the torches had been extinguished by a strong, icy draft that was blowing through a loose windowpane. He was halfway down the passage when he tripped headlong over something lying on the floor.

He turned to squint at what he’d fallen over and felt as though his stomach had dissolved.

Justin Finch-Fletchley was lying on the floor, rigid and cold, a look of shock frozen on his face, his eyes staring blankly at the ceil- ing. And that wasn’t all. Next to him was another figure, the strangest sight Harry had ever seen.

It was Nearly Headless Nick, no longer pearly-white and trans- parent, but black and smoky, floating immobile and horizontal, six inches off the floor. His head was half off and his face wore an ex- pression of shock identical to Justin’s.

Harry got to his feet, his breathing fast and shallow, his heart do- ing a kind of drumroll against his ribs. He looked wildly up and down the deserted corridor and saw a line of spiders scuttling as fast as they could away from the bodies. The only sounds were the muffled voices of teachers from the classes on either side.

He could run, and no one would ever know he had been there. But he couldn’t just leave them lying here. . . . He had to get help. . . . Would anyone believe he hadn’t had anything to do with this?

As he stood there, panicking, a door right next to him opened with a bang. Peeves the Poltergeist came shooting out.

“Why, it’s potty wee Potter! ” cackled Peeves, knocking Harry’s glasses askew as he bounced past him. “What’s Potter up to? Why’s Potter lurking —”

? 202‘

THE DUELING CLUB

Peeves stopped, halfway through a midair somersault. Upside down, he spotted Justin and Nearly Headless Nick. He flipped the right way up, filled his lungs and, before Harry could stop him, screamed, “ATTACK! ATTACK! ANOTHER ATTACK! NO MORTAL OR GHOST IS SAFE! RUN FOR YOUR LIVES! ATTAAAACK! ”

Crash — crash — crash — door after door flew open along the corridor and people flooded out. For several long minutes, there was a scene of such confusion that Justin was in danger of being squashed and people kept standing in Nearly Headless Nick. Harry found himself pinned against the wall as the teachers shouted for quiet. Professor McGonagall came running, followed by her own class, one of whom still had black-and-white-striped hair. She used her wand to set off a loud bang, which restored silence, and ordered everyone back into their classes. No sooner had the scene cleared somewhat than Ernie the Hufflepuff arrived, panting, on the scene.

“ Caught in the act! ” Ernie yelled, his face stark white, pointing

his finger dramatically at Harry.

“That will do, Macmillan! ” said Professor McGonagall sharply. Peeves was bobbing overhead, now grinning wickedly, surveying the scene; Peeves always loved chaos. As the teachers bent over Justin and Nearly Headless Nick, examining them, Peeves broke into song:

“ Oh, Potter, you rotter, oh, what have you done,

You’re killing off students, you think it’s good fun —”

“That’s enough, Peeves! ” barked Professor McGonagall, and Peeves zoomed away backward, with his tongue out at Harry.

? 203‘

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Justin was carried up to the hospital wing by Professor Flitwick and Professor Sinistra of the Astronomy department, but nobody seemed to know what to do for Nearly Headless Nick. In the end, Professor McGonagall conjured a large fan out of thin air, which she gave to Ernie with instructions to waft Nearly Headless Nick up the stairs. This Ernie did, fanning Nick along like a silent black hovercraft. This left Harry and Professor McGonagall alone to- gether.

“This way, Potter, ” she said.

“Professor, ” said Harry at once, “I swear I didn’t —” “This is out of my hands, Potter, ” said Professor McGonagall curtly.

They marched in silence around a corner and she stopped before a large and extremely ugly stone gargoyle.

“Lemon drop! ” she said. This was evidently a password, because the gargoyle sprang suddenly to life and hopped aside as the wall behind him split in two. Even full of dread for what was coming, Harry couldn’t fail to be amazed. Behind the wall was a spiral stair- case that was moving smoothly upward, like an escalator. As he and Professor McGonagall stepped onto it, Harry heard the wall thud closed behind them. They rose upward in circles, higher and higher, until at last, slightly dizzy, Harry saw a gleaming oak door ahead, with a brass knocker in the shape of a griffin.

He knew now where he was being taken. This must be where Dumbledore lived.

? 204‘

C H A P T E R T W E L V E

THE POLYJUICE POTION

hey stepped off the stone staircase at the top, and Professor

McGonagall rapped on the door. It opened silently and they

entered. Professor McGonagall told Harry to wait and left him there, alone.

Harry looked around. One thing was certain: of all the teachers’ offices Harry had visited so far this year, Dumbledore’s was by far the most interesting. If he hadn’t been scared out of his wits that he was about to be thrown out of school, he would have been very pleased to have a chance to look around it.

It was a large and beautiful circular room, full of funny little noises. A number of curious silver instruments stood on spindle- legged tables, whirring and emitting little puffs of smoke. The walls were covered with portraits of old headmasters and headmistresses, all of whom were snoozing gently in their frames. There was also an enormous, claw-footed desk, and, sitting on a shelf behind it, a

shabby, tattered wizard’s hat — the Sorting Hat.

? 205‘

CHAPTER TWELVE

Harry hesitated. He cast a wary eye around the sleeping witches and wizards on the walls. Surely it couldn’t hurt if he took the hat

down and tried it on again? Just to see. . . just to make sure it had

put him in the right House —

He walked quietly around the desk, lifted the hat from its shelf, and lowered it slowly onto his head. It was much too large and slipped down over his eyes, just as it had done the last time he’d put it on. Harry stared at the black inside of the hat, waiting. Then a small voice said in his ear, “Bee in your bonnet, Harry Potter? ”

“Er, yes, ” Harry muttered. “Er — sorry to bother you — I wanted to ask —”

“You’ve been wondering whether I put you in the right House, ” said the hat smartly. “Yes. . . you were particularly difficult to place. But I stand by what I said before” — Harry’s heart leapt — “you

would have done well in Slytherin —”

Harry’s stomach plummeted. He grabbed the point of the hat and pulled it off. It hung limply in his hand, grubby and faded. Harry pushed it back onto its shelf, feeling sick.

“You’re wrong, ” he said aloud to the still and silent hat. It didn’t move. Harry backed away, watching it. Then a strange, gagging noise behind him made him wheel around.

He wasn’t alone after all. Standing on a golden perch behind the door was a decrepit-looking bird that resembled a half-plucked turkey. Harry stared at it and the bird looked balefully back, mak- ing its gagging noise again. Harry thought it looked very ill. Its eyes were dull and, even as Harry watched, a couple more feathers fell out of its tail.

Harry was just thinking that all he needed was for Dumbledore’s

? 206‘

THE POLYJUICE POTION

pet bird to die while he was alone in the office with it, when the bird burst into flames.

Harry yelled in shock and backed away into the desk. He looked feverishly around in case there was a glass of water somewhere but couldn’t see one; the bird, meanwhile, had become a fireball; it gave one loud shriek and next second there was nothing but a smolder- ing pile of ash on the floor.

The office door opened. Dumbledore came in, looking very somber.

“Professor, ” Harry gasped. “Your bird — I couldn’t do any- thing — he just caught fire —”

To Harry’s astonishment, Dumbledore smiled. “About time, too, ” he said. “He’s been looking dreadful for days; I’ve been telling him to get a move on. ”

He chuckled at the stunned look on Harry’s face. “Fawkes is a phoenix, Harry. Phoenixes burst into flame when it is time for them to die and are reborn from the ashes. Watch him. . . ”

Harry looked down in time to see a tiny, wrinkled, newborn bird poke its head out of the ashes. It was quite as ugly as the old one. “It’s a shame you had to see him on a Burning Day, ” said Dumbledore, seating himself behind his desk. “He’s really very handsome most of the time, wonderful red and gold plumage. Fas- cinating creatures, phoenixes. They can carry immensely heavy

loads, their tears have healing powers, and they make highly faith-

ful pets. ”

In the shock of Fawkes catching fire, Harry had forgotten what he was there for, but it all came back to him as Dumbledore settled

? 207‘

CHAPTER TWELVE

himself in the high chair behind the desk and fixed Harry with his penetrating, light-blue stare.

Before Dumbledore could speak another word, however, the door of the office flew open with an almighty bang and Hagrid burst in, a wild look in his eyes, his balaclava perched on top of his shaggy black head and the dead rooster still swinging from his hand.

“It wasn’ Harry, Professor Dumbledore! ” said Hagrid urgently. “I

was talkin’ ter him seconds before that kid was found, he never had

time, sir —”

Dumbledore tried to say something, but Hagrid went ranting on, waving the rooster around in his agitation, sending feathers everywhere.

“— it can’t’ve bin him, I’ll swear it in front o’ the Ministry o’ Magic if I have to —”

“Hagrid, I —”

“— yeh’ve got the wrong boy, sir, I know Harry never —”

“ Hagrid! ” said Dumbledore loudly. “I do not think that Harry at-

tacked those people. ”

“Oh, ” said Hagrid, the rooster falling limply at his side. “Right. I’ll wait outside then, Headmaster. ”

And he stomped out looking embarrassed.

“You don’t think it was me, Professor? ” Harry repeated hopefully as Dumbledore brushed rooster feathers off his desk.

“No, Harry, I don’t, ” said Dumbledore, though his face was somber again. “But I still want to talk to you. ”

Harry waited nervously while Dumbledore considered him, the tips of his long fingers together.

? 208‘

THE POLYJUICE POTION

“I must ask you, Harry, whether there is anything you’d like to tell me, ” he said gently. “Anything at all. ”

Harry didn’t know what to say. He thought of Malfoy shouting, “You’ll be next, Mudbloods! ” and of the Polyjuice Potion simmer- ing away in Moaning Myrtle’s bathroom. Then he thought of the disembodied voice he had heard twice and remembered what Ron

had said: “ Hearing voices no one else can hear isn’t a good sign, even in

the wizarding world. ” He thought, too, about what everyone was

saying about him, and his growing dread that he was somehow con- nected with Salazar Slytherin. . . .

“No, ” said Harry. “There isn’t anything, Professor. . . . ”

The double attack on Justin and Nearly Headless Nick turned what had hitherto been nervousness into real panic. Curiously, it was Nearly Headless Nick’s fate that seemed to worry people most. What could possibly do that to a ghost? people asked each other; what terrible power could harm someone who was already dead? There was almost a stampede to book seats on the Hogwarts Ex- press so that students could go home for Christmas.

“At this rate, we’ll be the only ones left, ” Ron told Harry and Hermione. “Us, Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle. What a jolly holiday it’s going to be. ”

Crabbe and Goyle, who always did whatever Malfoy did, had signed up to stay over the holidays, too. But Harry was glad that most people were leaving. He was tired of people skirting around him in the corridors, as though he were about to sprout fangs or spit poison; tired of all the muttering, pointing, and hissing as he passed.

? 209‘

CHAPTER TWELVE

Fred and George, however, found all this very funny. They went out of their way to march ahead of Harry down the corridors, shouting, “Make way for the Heir of Slytherin, seriously evil wiz- ard coming through. . . . ”

Percy was deeply disapproving of this behavior.

“It is not a laughing matter, ” he said coldly.

“Oh, get out of the way, Percy, ” said Fred. “Harry’s in a hurry. ” “Yeah, he’s off to the Chamber of Secrets for a cup of tea with his fanged servant, ” said George, chortling.

Ginny didn’t find it amusing either.

“Oh, don’t, ” she wailed every time Fred asked Harry loudly who

he was planning to attack next, or when George pretended to ward Harry off with a large clove of garlic when they met.

Harry didn’t mind; it made him feel better that Fred and George, at least, thought the idea of his being Slytherin’s heir was quite ludicrous. But their antics seemed to be aggravating Draco Malfoy, who looked increasingly sour each time he saw them at it.

“It’s because he’s bursting to say it’s really him, ” said Ron know-

ingly. “You know how he hates anyone beating him at anything, and you’re getting all the credit for his dirty work. ”

“Not for long, ” said Hermione in a satisfied tone. “The Poly- juice Potion’s nearly ready. We’ll be getting the truth out of him any day now. ”

At last the term ended, and a silence deep as the snow on the grounds descended on the castle. Harry found it peaceful, rather than gloomy, and enjoyed the fact that he, Hermione, and the Weasleys had the run of Gryffindor Tower, which meant they could

? 210‘

THE POLYJUICE POTION

play Exploding Snap loudly without bothering anyone, and prac- tice dueling in private. Fred, George, and Ginny had chosen to stay at school rather than visit Bill in Egypt with Mr. and Mrs. Weasley. Percy, who disapproved of what he termed their childish behavior, didn’t spend much time in the Gryffindor common room. He had

already told them pompously that he was only staying over Christ-

mas because it was his duty as a prefect to support the teachers dur- ing this troubled time.

Christmas morning dawned, cold and white. Harry and Ron, the only ones left in their dormitory, were woken very early by Hermione, who burst in, fully dressed and carrying presents for them both.

“Wake up, ” she said loudly, pulling back the curtains at the win- dow.

“Hermione — you’re not supposed to be in here —” said Ron, shielding his eyes against the light.

“Merry Christmas to you, too, ” said Hermione, throwing him his present. “I’ve been up for nearly an hour, adding more lace- wings to the potion. It’s ready. ”

Harry sat up, suddenly wide awake.

“Are you sure? ”

“Positive, ” said Hermione, shirting Scabbers the rat so that she could sit down on the end of Ron’s four-poster. “If we’re going to do it, I say it should be tonight. ”

At that moment, Hedwig swooped into the room, carrying a very small package in her beak.

“Hello, ” said Harry happily as she landed on his bed. “Are you speaking to me again? ”

? 211‘

CHAPTER TWELVE

She nibbled his ear in an affectionate sort of way, which was a far better present than the one that she had brought him, which turned out to be from the Dursleys. They had sent Harry a tooth- pick and a note telling him to find out whether he’d be able to stay at Hogwarts for the summer vacation, too.