Friends/Relatives: Draco's mother is Sirius Black's cousin, Nymphadora Tonks is Draco's cousin. Belladonna Lestrange is Draco's aunt.
Important Events/Quotes:
'Excuse me,' said Malfoy in a sneering voice, 'but what exactly are we supposed to be seeing?'
Out of the corner of his eye, Harry distinctly saw Malfoy throw a scathing look over at him; the wine-glass Malfoy had been levitating fell to the floor and smashed.
'Lead me to the weapon,' (Umbridge) said.
'I'm not showing… them,' said Hermione shrilly, looking around at the Slytherins...
These words had a powerful impact on Umbridge: she glanced swiftly and
suspiciously around at her Inquisitorial Squad, her bulging eyes resting for a
moment on Malfoy, who was too slow to disguise the look of eagerness and greed
that had appeared on his face...
'All right, dear, let's make it just you and me… and we'll take Potter, too,
shall we? Get up, now.'
'Professor,' said Malfoy eagerly, 'Professor Umbridge, I think some of the Squad
should come with you to look after -'
'I am a fully qualified Ministry official, Malfoy, do you really think I cannot
manage two wandless teenagers alone?' asked Umbridge sharply. 'In any case, it
does not sound as though this weapon is something that schoolchildren should
see. You will remain here until I return and make sure none of these -' she
gestured around at Ron, Ginny, Neville and Luna '- escape.'
'All right,' said Malfoy, looking sulky and disappointed.
'We're supposed to patrol the corridors every so often,' he told Harry and
Neville, 'and we can give out punishments if people are misbehaving. I can't
wait to get Crabbe and Goyle for something
'You're not supposed to abuse your position, Ron!' said Hermione sharply.
'Yeah, right, because Malfoy won't abuse it at all,' said Ron sarcastically.
'So you're going to descend to his level?'
'No, I'm just going to make sure I get his mates before he gets mine.'
'I'll have it back, thank you,' said Luna coldly, and leaning forwards she
snatched it out of Harry's hands. Riffling through it to page
fifty-seven, she turned it resolutely upside-down again and disappeared behind
it, just as the compartment door opened for the third time.
Harry looked around; he had expected this, but that did not make the sight of
Draco Malfoy smirking at him from between his cronies Crabbe
and Goyle any more enjoyable-.
'What?' he said aggressively, before Malfoy could open his mouth.
'Manners, Potter, or I'll have to give you a detention,' drawled Malfoy, whose
sleek blond hair and pointed chin were just like his fathers. 'You see, I,
unlike you, have been made a prefect, which means that I, unlike you, have the
power to hand out punishments.'
'Yeah,' said Harry, 'but you, unlike me,-are a git, so get out and leave us
alone.'
Ron, Hermione, Ginny and Neville laughed. Malfoy's lip curled.
'Tell me, how does it feel being second-best to Weasley, Potter?' he asked.
'Shut up, Malfoy,' said Hermione sharply.
'I seem to have touched a nerve,' said Malfoy, smirking. 'Well, just watch
yourself, Potter, because I'll be dogging your footsteps in case
you step out of line.'
'Get out!' said Hermione, standing up.
Sniggering, Malfoy gave Harry a last malicious look and departed, with Crabbe
and Goyle lumbering along in his wake. Hermione slammed the compartment door
behind them and turned to look at Harry, who knew at once that she, like him,
had registered what Malfoy had said and been just as unnerved by it.
'Chuck us another Frog,' said Ron, who had clearly noticed nothing.
Harry could not talk freely in front of Neville and Luna. He exchanged another
nervous look with Hermione, then stared out of the window. He had thought Sirius
coming with him to the station was a bit of a laugh, but suddenly it seemed
reckless, if not downright dangerous... Hermione had been right... Sirius should
not have come. What if Mr Malfoy had noticed the black dog and told Draco? What
if he had deduced that the Weasleys, Lupin, Tonks and Moody knew where Sirius was
hiding? Or had Malfoy's use of the word 'dogging' been a coincidence?
Location: carriages to school
A short distance away, Draco Malfoy, followed by a small gang of cronies
including Crabbe, Goyle and Pansy Parkinson, was pushing some timid-looking
second-years out of the way so that he and his friends could get a coach to
themselves. Seconds later, Hermione emerged panting from the crowd.
'Malfoy was being absolutely foul to a first-year back there. I swear I'm going
to report him, he's only had his badge three minutes and he's using it to bully
people worse than ever… where's Crookshanks?'
'Where's Hagrid?' he asked her, while everyone else was choosing Bowtruckles.
'Never you mind,' said Professor Grubbly-Plank repressively, which had been her
attitude last time Hagrid had failed to turn up for a class, too. Smirking all
over his pointed face, Draco Malfoy leaned across Harry and seized the largest
Bowtruckle.
'Maybe,' said Malfoy in an undertone, so that only Harry could hear him, 'the
stupid great oaf's got himself badly injured.'
'Maybe you will if you don't shut up,' said Harry out of the side of his mouth.
'Maybe he's been messing with stuff that's too big for him, if you get my drift.'
Malfoy walked away, smirking over his shoulder at Harry, who felt suddenly sick.
Did Malfoy know something? His father was a Death Eater after all; what if he
had information about Hagrid's fate that had not yet reached the ears of the
Order? He hurried back around the table to Ron and Hermione who were squatting
on the grass some distance away and attempting to persuade a Bowtruckle to
remain still long enough for them to draw it. Harry pulled out parchment and
quill, crouched down beside the others and related in a whisper what Malfoy had
just said.
'Dumbledore would know if some thing had happened to Hagrid,' said Hermione at
once. 'It's just playing into Malfoy's hands to look worried; it tells him we
don't know exactly what's going on. We've got to ignore him, Harry. Here, hold
the Bowtruckle for a moment, just so I can draw its face…'
'Yes,' came Malfoy's clear drawl from the group nearest them, 'Father was talking
to the Minister just a couple of days ago, you know, and it sounds as though the
Ministry's really determined to crack down on sub-standard teaching in this
place. So even if that overgrown moron does show up again, he'll probably be sent
packing straightaway.'
'OUCH!'
Harry had gripped the Bowtruckle so hard that it had almost snapped, and it had
just taken a great retaliatory swipe at his hand with its sharp fingers, leaving
two long deep cuts there. Harry dropped it. Crabbe and Goyle, who had already
been guffawing at the idea of Hagrid being sacked, laughed still harder as the
Bowtruckle set off at full tilt towards the Forest, a little moving stick-man
soon swallowed up among the tree roots. When the bell echoed distantly over the
grounds, Harry rolled up his blood-stained Bowtruckle picture and marched off to
Herbology with his hand wrapped in Hermione's handkerchief, and Malfoy's derisive
laughter still ringing in his ears.
'If he calls Hagrid a moron one more time…' said Harry through gritted teeth.
'Harry, don't go picking a row with Malfoy, don't forget, he's a prefect now, he
could make life difficult for you…'
Harry reversed away from the others to the far side of the pitch. Ron fell back
towards the opposite goal. Angelina raised the Quaffle with one hand and threw
it hard to Fred, who passed to George, who passed to Harry, who passed to Ron,
who dropped it.
The Slytherins, led by Malfoy, roared and screamed with laughter. Ron, who had
pelted towards the ground to catch the Quaffle before it landed, pulled out of
the dive untidily, so that he slipped sideways on his broom, and returned to
playing height, blushing. Harry saw Fred and George exchange looks, but
uncharacteristically neither of them said anything, for which he was grateful.
'Hey, Potter, how's your scar feeling?' called Malfoy. 'Sure you don't need a
lie down? It must be, what, a whole week since you were in the hospital wing,
that's a record for you, isn't it?'
George passed to Angelina; she reverse-passed to Harry, who had not been
expecting it, but caught it in the very tips of his fingers and passed it
quickly to Ron, who lunged for it and missed by inches.
'Come on now, Ron,' said Angelina crossly, as he dived for the ground again,
chasing the Quaffle. 'Pay attention.'
It would have been hard to say whether Ron's face or the Quaffle was a deeper
scarlet when he again returned to playing height. Malfoy and the rest of the
Slytherin team were howling with laughter.
'Quite correct,' said Professor Grubbly-Plank, hands behind her back and bouncing
on the balls of her feet. 'I am a substitute teacher standing in for Professor
Hagrid.'
Harry exchanged uneasy looks with Ron and Hermione. Malfoy was whispering with
Crabbe and Goyle; he would surely love this opportunity to tell tales on Hagrid
to a member of the Ministry.
'Hmm,' said Professor Umbridge, dropping her voice, though Harry could still
hear her quite clearly. '1 wonder - the Headmaster seems strangely reluctant to
give me any information on the matter - can you tell me what is causing
Professor Hagrid's very extended leave of absence?'
Harry saw Malfoy look up eagerly and watch Umbridge and Grubbly-Plank closely.
'Well, you seem to know what you're doing, at any rate,' said Professor Umbridge,
making a very obvious tick on her clipboard. Harry did not like the emphasis she
put on 'you' and liked it even less when she put her next question to Goyle.
'Now, I hear there have been injuries in this class?'
Goyle gave a stupid grin. Malfoy hastened to answer the question.
That was me,' he said. '1 was slashed by a Hippogriff.'
'A Hippogriff?' said Professor Umbridge, now scribbling frantically.
'Only because he was too stupid to listen to what Hagrid told him to do,' said
Harry angrily.
'He said he was tipped off you were ordering Dungbombs? But who tipped him off?'
'I dunno,' said Harry, shrugging. 'Maybe Malfoy, he'd think it was a laugh.'
'Malfoy?' said Hermione, sceptically. 'Well… yes… maybe…'
Chapter 17
They trudged down the stone steps to the dungeons for Potions, all three of them
lost in thought, but as they reached the bottom of the steps they were recalled
to themselves by the voice of Draco Malfoy who was standing just outside Snape's
classroom door, waving around an official-looking piece of parchment and talking
much louder than was necessary so that they could hear every word.
'Yeah, Umbridge gave the Slytherin Quidditch team permission to continue playing
straightaway, I went to ask her first thing this morning. Well, it was pretty
much automatic, 1 mean, she knows my father really well, he's always popping in
and out of the Ministry… it'll be interesting to see whether Gryffindor are
allowed to keep playing, won't it?'
'Don't rise,' Hermione whispered imploringly to Harry and Ron, who were both
watching Malfoy, faces set and fists clenched. 'It's what he wants.'
'I mean,' said Malfoy, raising his voice a little more, his grey eyes glittering
malevolently in Harry and Ron's direction, 'if it's a question of influence with
the Ministry, I don't think they've got much chance… from what my father says,
they've been looking for an excuse to sack Arthur Weasley for years… and as for
Potter… my father says it's a matter of time before the Ministry has him carted
off to St Mungo's… apparently they've got a special ward for people whose brains
have been addled by magic.'
Malfoy made a grotesque face, his mouth sagging open and his eyes rolling.
Crabbe and Goyle gave their usual grunts of laughter; Pansy Parkinson shrieked
with glee.
Something collided hard with Harry's shoulder, knocking him sideways. A split
second later he realised that Neville had just charged past him, heading
straight for Malfoy.
'Neville, no!'
Harry leapt forward and seized the back of Neville's robes; Neville struggled
frantically, his fists flailing, trying desperately to get at Malfoy who looked,
for a moment, extremely shocked.
'Help me!' Harry flung at Ron, managing to get an arm around Neville's neck and
dragging him backwards, away from the Slytherins. Crabbe and Goyle were flexing
their arms as they stepped in front of Malfoy, ready for the fight. Ron seized
Neville's arms, and together he and Harry succeeded in dragging Neville back into
the Gryffindor line. Neville's face was scarlet; the pressure Harry was exerting
on his throat rendered him quite incomprehensible, but odd words spluttered from
his mouth.
'Not… funny… don't… Mungo's… show… him…'
Chapter 19
Harry felt optimistic about Gryffindor's chances; they had, after all, never lost
to Malfoy's team.
When Draco Malfoy imitated Ron dropping the Quaffle (which he did whenever they came within sight of each other), Ron's ears glowed red and his hands shook so badly that he was likely to drop whatever he was holding at the time, too.
The Slytherin team was standing waiting for them. They, too, were wearing those
silver crown-shaped badges. The new Captain, Montague, was built along the same
lines as Dudley Dursley, with massive forearms like hairy hams. Behind him lurked
Crabbe and Goyle, almost as large, blinking stupidly in the sunlight, swinging
their new Beaters' bats. Malfoy stood to one side, the sunlight gleaming on his
white-blond head. He caught Harry's eye and smirked, tapping the crown-shaped
badge on his chest.
'Captains, shake hands,' ordered the referee Madam Hooch, as Angelina and
Montague reached each other. Harry could tell that Montague was trying to crush
Angelina's fingers, though she did not wince. 'Mount your brooms…'
Madam Hooch placed her whistle in her mouth and blew.
The balls were released and the fourteen players shot upwards. Out of the corner
of his eye Harry saw Ron streak off towards the goalhoops. Harry zoomed higher,
dodging a Bludger, and set off on a wide lap of the pitch, gazing around for a
glint of gold; on the other side of the stadium, Draco Malfoy was doing exactly
the same.
There was no sign of the Snitch anywhere he looked; Malfoy was still circling the stadium just as he was. They passed one another midway around the pitch, going in opposite directions, and Harry heard Malfoy singing loudly: 'WEASLEY WAS BORN IN A BIN…'
Harry could hear Luna's ludicrous lion hat roaring amidst the Gryffindor cheers and felt heartened; only thirty points in it, that was nothing, they could pull back easily. Harry ducked a Bludger that Crabbe had sent rocketing in his direction and resumed his frantic scouring of the pitch for the Snitch, keeping one eye on Malfoy in case he showed signs of having spotted it, but Malfoy, like him, was continuing to soar around the stadium, searching fruitlessly…
But Harry had seen it at last: the tiny fluttering Golden Snitch was hovering
feet from the ground at the Slytherin end of the pitch. He dived…
In a matter of seconds, Malfoy was streaking out of the sky on Harry's left, a
green and silver blur lying flat on his broom…
The Snitch skirted the foot of one of the goalhoops and scooted off towards the
other side of the stands; its change of direction suited Malfoy, who was nearer;
Harry pulled his Firebolt around, he and Malfoy were now neck and neck…
Feet from the ground, Harry lifted his right hand from his broom, stretching
towards the Snitch… to his right, Malfoy's arm extended too, was reaching,
groping…
It was over in two breathless, desperate, windswept seconds -Harry's fingers
closed around the tiny, struggling ball - Malfoy's fingernails scrabbled the
back of Harrys hand hopelessly - Harry pulled his broom upwards, holding the
struggling ball in his hand and the Gryffindor spectators screamed their
approval…
Harry heard a snort from behind him and turned around, still holding the Snitch
tightly in his hand: Draco Malfoy had landed close by. White-faced with fury, he
was still managing to sneer.
'Saved Weasley's neck, haven't you?' he said to Harry. 'I've never seen a worse
Keeper… but then he was born in a bin… did you like my lyrics, Potter?'
Harry didn't answer. He turned away to meet the rest of the team who were now
landing one by one, yelling and punching the air in triumph; all except Ron,
who had dismounted from his broom over by the goalposts and seemed to be making
his way slowly back to the changing rooms alone.
'We wanted to write another couple of verses!' Malfoy called, as Katie and
Alicia hugged Harry. 'But we couldn't find rhymes for fat and ugly - we wanted
to sing about his mother, see -'
Talk about sour grapes,' said Angelina, casting Malfoy a disgusted look.
'- we couldn't fit in useless loser either - for his father, you know -'
Fred and George had realised what Malfoy was talking about. Halfway through
shaking Harry's hand, they stiffened, looking round at Malfoy.
'Leave it!' said Angelina at once, taking Fred by the arm. 'Leave it, Fred, let
him yell, he's just sore he lost, the jumped-up little -'
'- but you like the Weasleys, don't you, Potter?' said Malfoy, sneering. 'Spend
holidays there and everything, don't you? Can't see how you stand the stink,
but I suppose when you've been dragged up by Muggles, even the Weasleys' hovel
smells OK -'
Harry grabbed hold of George. Meanwhile, it was taking the combined efforts of
Angelina, Alicia and Katie to stop Fred leaping on Malfoy, who was laughing
openly. Harry looked around for Madam Hooch, but she was still berating Crabbe
for his illegal Sludger attack.
'Or perhaps,' said Malfoy, leering as he backed away, 'you can remember what
your mother's house stank like, Potter, and Weasleys pigsty reminds you of it —'
Harry was not aware of releasing George, all he knew was that a second later both
of them were sprinting towards Malfoy. He had completely forgotten that all the
teachers were watching: all he wanted to do was cause Malfoy as much pain as
possible; with no time to draw out his wand, he merely drew back the fist
clutching the Snitch and sank it as hard as he could into Malfoys stomach -
'Harry! HARRY! GEORGE! NO!'
He could hear girls' voices screaming, Malfoy yelling, George swearing, a whistle
blowing and the bellowing of the crowd around him, but he did not care. Not
until somebody in the vicinity yelled 'Impedimenta!' and he was knocked over
backwards by the force of the spell, did he abandon the attempt to punch every
inch of Malfoy he could reach.
'What do you think you're doing?' screamed Madam Hooch, as Harry leapt to his
feet. It seemed to have been her who had hit him with the Impediment Jinx; she
was holding her whistle in one hand and a wand in the other; her broom lay
abandoned several feet away. Malfoy was curled up on the ground, whimpering
and moaning, his nose bloody; George was sporting a swollen lip; Fred was still
being forcibly restrained by the three Chasers, and Crabbe was cackling in the
background. 'I've never seen behaviour like it - back up to the castle, both of
you, and straight to your Head of House's office! Go! Now.''
Harry and George turned on their heels and marched off the pitch, both panting,
neither saying a word to the other. The howling and jeering of the crowd grew
fainter and fainter until they reached the Entrance Hall, where they could hear
nothing except the sound of their own footsteps. Harry became aware that
something was still struggling in his right hand, the knuckles of which he had
bruised against Malfoy's jaw. Looking down, he saw the Snitch's silver wings
protruding from between his fingers, struggling for release.
'Malfoy provoked us,' said Harry stiffly.
'Provoked you?' shouted Professor McGonagall, slamming a fist on to her desk so
that her tartan tin slid sideways off it and burst open, littering the floor
with Ginger Newts. 'He'd just lost, hadn't he? Of course he wanted to provoke
you! But what on earth he can have said that justified what you two —'
'He insulted my parents,' snarled George. 'And Harry's mother.'
Chapter 21
'We're workin' in here today!' Hagrid called happily to the approaching
students, jerking his head back at the dark trees behind him. 'Bit more
sheltered! Anyway, they prefer the dark.'
'What prefers the dark?' Harry heard Malfoy say sharply to Crabbe and Goyle, a
trace of panic in his voice. 'What did he say prefers the dark - did you hear?'
Harry remembered the only other occasion on which Malfoy had entered the Forest
before now; he had not been very brave then, either. He smiled to himself; after
the Quidditch match anything that caused Malfoy discomfort was all right with
him.
'Ready?' said Hagrid cheerfully, looking around at the class. 'Right, well, I've
bin savin' a trip inter the Forest fer yer fifth year. Thought we'd go an' see
these creatures in their natural habitat. Now, what we're studyin' today is
pretty rare, 1 reckon I'm probably the on'y person in Britain who's managed ter
train 'em.'
'And you're sure they're trained, are you?' said Malfoy, the panic in his voice
even more pronounced. 'Only it wouldn't be the first time you'd brought wild
stuff to class, would it?'
The Slytherins murmured agreement and a few Gryffindors looked as though they
thought Malfoy had a fair point, too.
'Course they're trained,' said Hagrid, scowling and hoisting the dead cow a
little higher on his shoulder.
'So what happened to your face, then?' demanded Malfoy.
'Mind yer own business!' said Hagrid, angrily. 'Now, if yeh've finished askin'
stupid questions, follow me!'
There were only two other people who seemed to be able to see
them: a stringy Slytherin boy standing just behind Goyle was watching the horse
eating with an expression of great distaste on his face; and Neville, whose eyes
were following the swishing progress of the long black tail.
'Oh, an' here comes another one!' said Hagrid proudly, as a second black horse
appeared out of the dark trees, folded its leathery wings closer to its body and
dipped its head to gorge on the meat. 'Now… put yer hands up, who can see 'em?'
Immensely pleased to feel that he was at last going to understand the mystery of
these horses, Harry raised his hand. Hagrid nodded at him.
'Yeah… yeah, I knew you'd be able ter, Harry,' he said seriously. 'An' you too,
Neville, eh? An' -'
'Excuse me,' said Malfoy in a sneering voice, 'but what exactly are we supposed
to be seeing?'
'Appears… to… have… poor… short… term… memory,' muttered Umbridge, loudly enough for everyone to hear her. Draco Malfoy looked as though Christmas had come a month early; Hermione, on the other hand, had turned scarlet with suppressed rage.
Umbridge did not answer; she finished writing her last note, then looked up at Hagrid and said, again very loudly and slowly, 'Please continue teaching as usual. I am going to walk,' she mimed walking (Malfoy and Pansy Parkinson were having silent fits of laughter) 'among the students' (she pointed around at individual members of the class) 'and ask them questions.' She pointed at her mouth to indicate talking.
'Er… yeah… good stuff abou' Thestrals. Well, once they're tamed, like this lot,
yeh'll never be lost again. 'Mazin' sense o' direction, jus' tell 'em where yeh
want ter go -'
'Assuming they can understand you, of course,' said Malfoy loudly, and Pansy
Parkinson collapsed in a fit of renewed giggles.
'I'm surprised so many people could see them,' said Ron. Three in a class -'
'Yeah, Weasley, we were just wondering,' said a malicious voice. Unheard by any
of them in the muffling snow, Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle were walking along right
behind them. 'D'you reckon if you saw someone snuff it you'd be able to see the
Quaffle better?'
He, Crabbe and Goyle roared with laughter as they pushed past on their way to
the castle, then broke into a chorus of 'Weasley is our King'. Ron's ears turned
scarlet.
'He was heading back to Gryffindor Tower,' said Umbridge. There was an indecent
excitement in her voice, the same callous pleasure Harry had heard as she
watched Professor Trelawney dissolving with misery in the Entrance Hall. The
Malfoy boy cornered him.'
Chapter 28
'Oh, I expect she really fancied herself sitting up there in the Heads office,'
said Hermione viciously, as they walked up the stone steps into the Entrance
Hall. 'Lording it over all the other teachers, the stupid puffed-up, power-crazy
old -'
'Now, do you really want to finish that sentence, Granger?'
Draco Malfoy had slid out from behind the door, closely followed by Crabbe and
Goyle. His pale, pointed face was alight with malice.
'Afraid I'm going to have to dock a few points from Gryffindor and Hufflepuff,'
he drawled.
'It's only teachers who can dock points from houses, Malfoy,' said Ernie at
once.
'Yeah, we're prefects, too, remember?' snarled Ron.
'I know prefects can't dock points, Weasel King,' sneered Malfoy. Crabbe and
Goyle sniggered. 'But members of the Inquisitorial Squad -'
'The what?' said Hermione sharply.
'The Inquisitorial Squad, Granger,' said Malfoy, pointing towards a tiny silver
I on his robes just beneath his prefect's badge. 'A select group of students
who are supportive of the Ministry of Magic, hand-picked by Professor Umbridge.
Anyway, members of the Inquisitorial Squad do have the power to dock points… so,
Granger, I'll have five from you for being rude about our new Headmistress.
Macmillan, five for contradicting me. Five because I don't like you, Potter.
Weasley, your shirts untucked, so I'll have another five for that. Oh yeah, I
forgot, you're a Mudblood, Granger, so ten off for that.'
Ron pulled out his wand, but Hermione pushed it away, whispering, 'Don't!'
'Wise move, Granger,' breathed Malfoy. 'New Head, new times
… be good now, Potty… Weasel King…'
Laughing heartily, he strode away with Crabbe and Goyle.
Snape's office door banged open and Draco Malfoy sped in. 'Professor Snape, sir -
oh - sorry -' Malfoy was looking at Snape and Harry in some surprise.
'It's all right, Draco,' said Snape, lowering his wand. 'Potter is here for a
little remedial Potions.'
Harry had not seen Malfoy look so gleeful since Umbridge had turned up to
inspect Hagrid.
'I didn't know,' he said, leering at Harry, who knew his face was burning. He
would have given a great deal to be able to shout the truth at Malfoy - or, even
better, to hit him with a good curse.
'Well, Draco, what is it?' asked Snape.
'It's Professor Umbridge, sir - she needs your help,' said Malfoy.
They've found Montague, sir, he's turned up jammed inside a toilet on the fourth
floor.'
'How did he get in there?' demanded Snape.
'I don't know, sir, he's a bit confused.'
'Very well, very well. Potter,' said Snape, 'we shall resume this lesson
tomorrow evening.'
He turned and swept from his office. Malfoy mouthed, 'Remedial Potions?' at
Harry behind Snape's back before following him.
Chapter 31
Meanwhile, Draco Malfoy had found a different way to induce panic.
'Of course, it's not what you know,' he was heard to tell Crabbe and Goyle
loudly outside Potions a few days before the exams were to start, 'it's who you
know. Now, Father's been friendly with the head of the Wizarding Examinations
Authority for years — old Griselda Marchbanks - we've had her round for dinner
and everything…'
'Do you think that's true?' Hermione whispered in alarm to Harry and Ron.
'Nothing we can do about it if it is,' said Ron gloomily.
'I don't think it's true,' said Neville quietly from behind them. 'Because
Griselda Marchbanks is a friend of my gran's, and she's never mentioned the
Malfoys.'
'Professor Tofty is free, Potter,' squeaked Professor Flitwick, who was standing
just inside the door. He pointed Harry towards what looked like the very oldest
and baldest examiner who was sitting behind a small table in a far corner, a
short distance from Professor Marchbanks, who was halfway through testing Draco
Malfoy.
'Potter, is it?' said Professor Tofty, consulting his notes and peering over his
pince-nez at Harry as he approached. The famous Potter?'
Out of the corner of his eye, Harry distinctly saw Malfoy throw a scathing look
over at him; the wine-glass Malfoy had been levitating fell to the floor and
smashed. Harry could not suppress a grin; Professor Tofty smiled back at him
encouragingly.
That's it,' he said in his quavery old voice, 'no need to be nervous. Now, if I
could ask you to take this egg cup and make it do some cartwheels for me.'
On the whole, Harry thought it went rather well. His Levitation Charm was
certainly much better than Malfoy's had been,
Harry looked back at Umbridge, who was watching him closely. He kept his face
deliberately smooth and blank as footsteps were heard in the corridor outside
and Draco Malfoy entered the room, closely followed by Snape.
'You are forcing me, Potter… I do not want to,' said Umbridge, still moving
restlessly on the spot, 'but sometimes circumstances justify the use… I am sure
the Minister will understand that I had no choice.
Malfoy was watching her with a hungry expression on his face.
The Cruciatus Curse ought to loosen your tongue,' said Umbridge quietly.
'Lead me to the weapon,' she said.
'I'm not showing… them,' said Hermione shrilly, looking around at the Slytherins
through her fingers.
'It is not for you to set conditions,' said Professor Umbridge harshly.
'Fine,' said Hermione, now sobbing into her hands again. 'Fine… let them see it,
I hope they use it on you! In fact, I wish you'd invite loads and loads of
people to come and see! Th - that would serve you right - oh, I'd love it if the
wh - whole school knew where it was, and how to u - use it, and then if you
annoy any of them they'll be able to's - sort you out!'
These words had a powerful impact on Umbridge: she glanced swiftly and
suspiciously around at her Inquisitorial Squad, her bulging eyes resting for a
moment on Malfoy, who was too slow to disguise the look of eagerness and greed
that had appeared on his face.
Umbridge contemplated Hermione for another long moment, then spoke in what she
clearly thought was a motherly voice.
'All right, dear, let's make it just you and me… and we'll take Potter, too,
shall we? Get up, now.'
'Professor,' said Malfoy eagerly, 'Professor Umbridge, I think some of the Squad
should come with you to look after -'
'I am a fully qualified Ministry official, Malfoy, do you really think I cannot
manage two wandless teenagers alone?' asked Umbridge sharply. 'In any case, it
does not sound as though this weapon is something that schoolchildren should
see. You will remain here until I return and make sure none of these -' she
gestured around at Ron, Ginny, Neville and Luna '- escape.'
'All right,' said Malfoy, looking sulky and disappointed.