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Harry shook his head again. Exactly what Hagrid would say when he realized his three favorite students had given up his subject, he did not like to think.

Harry was not afraid of Malfoy, but he still did not much like the idea of being discovered hiding under his Invisibility Cloak by a group of unfriendly Slytherins. Eyes still watering and head still throbbing, he drew his wand, careful not to disarrange the cloak, and waited, breath held. To his relief, Malfoy seemed to decide that he had imagined the noise; he pulled on his robes like the others, locked his trunk, and as the train slowed to a jerky crawl, fastened a thick new traveling cloak round his neck.

Harry looked up at the staff table and grinned at Hagrid, who was indeed waving at him. Hagrid had never quite managed to comport himself with the dignity of Professor McGonagall, Head of Gryffindor House, the top of whose head came up to somewhere between Hagrid's elbow and shoulder as they were sitting side by side, and who was looking disapprovingly at this enthusiastic greeting. Harry was surprised to see the Divination teacher, Professor Trelawney, sitting on Hagrid's other side; she rarely left her tower room, and he had never seen her at the start-of-term feast before. She looked as odd as ever, glittering with beads and trailing shawls, her eyes magnified to enormous size by her spectacles. Having always considered her a bit of a fraud, Harry had been shocked to discover at the end of the previous term that it had been she who had made the prediction that caused Lord Voldemort to kill Harry's parents and attack Harry himself. The knowledge made him even less eager to find himself in her company, thankfully, this year he would be dropping Divination. Her great beaconlike eyes swiveled in his direction; he hastily looked away toward the Slytherin table. Draco Malfoy was miming the shatterering of a nose to raucous laughter and applause. Harry dropped his gaze to his treacle tart, his insides burning again. What he would give to fight Malfoy one-on-one...

explode. He knew that Snape had come to fetch him for this, for

Neville turned very pink and blinked confusedly; Professor McGonagall had never paid him a compliment before.

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A few minutes later, Ron was cleared to do the same subjects as Harry, and the two of them left the table together.

The train lurched, causing Harry to roll over onto his side. Now he was staring at the dusty underside of the seats instead of the ceiling. The floor began to vibrate as the engine roared into life. The Express was leaving and nobody knew he was still on it...

He pulled the robes over his head and threw them onto the floor at Madam Malkin's feet.

"And that's our stuff you're nicking. Three Galleons, nine Sickles. I'll knock off the Knut."

"'Arry," she said in a throaty voice. "Eet 'as been too long!"

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"Hermione?" said Ginny tentatively, for Hermione still hadn't turned around. "How did you do?"

Chapter 8: Victorious Snape

The owls were flying directly at the Burrow, three handsome tawnies, each of which, it became clear as they flew lower over the path leading up to the house, was carrying a large square envelope.

He looked around. Hermione had her back to him and her head bent, but Ron was looking delighted.

He looked around. Hermione had her back to him and her head bent, but Ron was looking delighted.

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"Harry, please. You're talking to the man who raised Fred and George."

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"Quibbler still going strong, then?" asked Harry, who felt a certain fondness for the magazine, having given it an exclusive interview the previous year.

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“How d'you know Voldemort doesn't need someone at Hogwarts? It wouldn't be the first —"

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Harry moved forward. The letter addressed to him was tied to the leg of the owl in the middle. He untied it with fumbling fingers. To his left, Ron was trying to detach his own results; to his right, Hermione's hands were shaking so much she was making her whole owl tremble.,

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"But he can't really think we'd continue Care of Magical Creatures !" she said, looking distressed. "I mean, when has any of us expressed . . . you know . . . any enthusiasm?";

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