o 'arm in 'im, 'onest that hippogriff's as good as 
dead --" 

Malfoy suddenly caught sight of Ron. His pale face split in a malevolent 
grin. 

"What are you doing, Weasley?" 

Malfoy looked up at the crumbling house behind Ron. 

"Suppose You'd love to live here, wouldn't you, Weasley? Dreaming about 
having your own bedroom? I heard your family all sleep in one room -- is 
that true?" 

Harry seized the back of Ron's robes to stop him from leaping on Malfoy. 
"Leave him to me," he hissed in Ron's ear. 

The opportunity was too perfect to miss. Harry crept silently around 
behind Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle, bent down, and scooped a large handful 
of mud out of the path. 

"We were just discussing your friend Hagrid," Malfoy said to Ron. "Just 
trying to imagine what he's saying to the Committee for the Disposal of 
Dangerous Creatures. D'you think he'll cry when they cut off his 
hippogriff's 

SPLAT. 

Malfoy's head jerked forward as the mud hit him; his silverblond hair 
was suddenly dripping in muck. 

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"What the --?" 

Ron had to hold onto the fence to keep himself standing, he was laughing 
so hard. Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle spun stupidly on the spot, staring 
wildly around, Malfoy trying to wipe his hair clean. 

"What was that? 'Who did that?" 

"Very haunted up here, isn't it?" said Ron, with the air of one 
commenting on the weather. 

Crabbe and Goyle were looking scared. Their bulging muscles were no use 
against ghosts. Malfoy was staring madly around at the deserted 
landscape. 

Harry sneaked along the path, where a particularly sloppy puddle yielded 
some foul-smelling, green sludge. 

SPLATTER. 

Crabbe and Goyle caught some this time. Goyle hopped furiously on the 
spot, trying to rub it out of his small, dull eyes. 

"It came from over there!" said Malfoy, wiping his face, and staring at 
a spot some six feet to the left of Harry. 

Crabbe blundered forward, his long arms outstretched like a zombie. 
Harry dodged around him, picked up a stick, and lobbed it at Crabbe's 
back. Harry doubled up with silent laughter as Crabbe did a kind of 
pirouette in midair, trying to see who had thrown it. As Ron was the 
only person Crabbe could see, it was Ron he started toward, but Harry 
stuck out his leg. Crabbe stumbled -- and his huge, flat foot caught the 
hem of Harry's cloak. Harry felt a great tug, then the cloak slid off 
his face. 

For a split second, Malfoy stared at him. 

"AAARGH!" he yelled, pointing at Harry's head. Then he turned tail and 
ran, at breakneck speed, back down the hill, Crabbe and Goyle behind 
him. 

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Harry tugged the cloak up again, but the damage was done. 

"Harry!" Ron said, stumbling forward and staring hopelessly at the point 
where Harry had disappeared, "you'd better run for it! If Malfoy tells 
anyone -- you'd better get back to the castle, quick --" "See you 
later," said Harry, and without another word, he tore back down the path 
toward Hogsmeade. 

Would Malfoy believe what he had seen? Would anyone believe 

Malfoy? Nobody knew about the Invisibility Cloak -- nobody except 
Dumbledore. Harry's stomach turned over -- Dumbledore would know exactly 
what had happened, if Malfoy said any- thing -


Back into Honeydukes, back down the cellar steps, across the stone 
floor, through the trapdoor -- Harry pulled off the cloak, tucked it 
under his arm, and ran, flat out, along the passage.... Malfoy would get 
back first... how long would it take him to find a teacher? Panting, a 
sharp pain in his side, Harry didn't slow down until he reached the 
stone slide. He would have to leave the cloak where it was, it was too 
much of a giveaway in case Malfoy had tipped off a teacher -- he hid it 
in a shadowy corner, then started to climb, fast as he could, his sweaty 
hands slipping on the sides of the chute. He reached the inside of the 
witch's hump, tapped it with his wand, stuck his head through, and 
hoisted himself out; the hump closed, and just as Harry jumped out from 
behind the statue, he heard quick footsteps approaching. 

It was Snape. He approached Harry at a swift walk, his black robes 
swishing, then stopped in front of him. 

"So," he said. 

There was a look of surpressed triumph about him. Harry tried to look 
innocent, all too aware of his sweaty face and his muddy hands, which he 
quickly hid in his pockets. 

"Come with me, Potter," said Snape. 

Harry followed him downstairs, trying to wipe his hands clean on the 

235 



inside of his robes without Snape noticing. They walked down the stairs 

to the dungeons and then into Snape's office. 
Harry had been in here only once before, and he had been in very serious 
trouble then too. Snape had aquired a few more slimy horrible things in 
jars since last time, all standing on shelves behind his desk, glinting 
in the firelight and adding to the threatening atmosphere. 

"Sit," said Snape. 
Harry sat. Snape, however, remained, standing. 
"Mr. Malfoy has just been to see me with a strange story, Potter," said 


Snape. 
Harry didn't say anything. 
"He tells me that he was up by the Shrieking Shack when he ran into 


Weasley -- apparently alone." 
Still, Harry didn't speak. 
"Mr. Malfoy states that he was standing talking to Weasley, when a large 


amount of mud hit him in the back of the head. How do you think that 
could have happened?" 
Harry tried to look mildly surprised. 


"I don't know, Professor." 
Snape's eyes were boring into Harry's. It was exactly like trying to 
stare down a hippogriff. Harry tried hard not to blink. 


"Mr. Malfoy then saw an extraordinary apparition. Can you imagine what 
it might have been, Potter?" 
"No," said Harry, now trying to sound innocently curious. 
"It was your head, Potter. Floating in midair." 


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There was a long silence. 

"Maybe he'd better go to Madam Pomfrey," said Harry. "If he's seeing 
things like --" 

"What would your head have been doing in Hogsmeade, Potter?" said Snape 
softly. "Your head is not allowed in Hogsmeade. No part of your body has 
permission to be in Hogsmeade." 

"I know that," said Harry, striving to keep his face free of guilt or 
fear. "It sounds like Malfoy's having hallucin --" 

"Malfoy is not having hallucinations," snarled Snape, and he bent down, 
a hand on each arm of Harry's chair, so that their faces were a foot 
apart. "If your head was in Hogsmeade, so was the rest of you." 

"I've been up in Gryffindor Tower," said Harry. "Like you told --" "Can 
anyone confirm that?" 

Harry didn't say anything. Snape's thin mouth curled into a horrible 
smile. 

"So," he said, straightening up again. "Everyone from the Minister of 
Magic downward has been trying to keep famous Harry Potter safe from 
Sirius Black. But famous Harry Potter is a law unto himself Let the 
ordinary people worry about his safety! Famous Harry Potter goes where 
he wants to, with no thought for the consequences. 

Harry stayed silent. Snape was trying to provoke him into telling the 
truth. He wasn't going to do it. Snape had no proof -- yet. 

"How extraordinarily like your father you are, Potter," Snape said 
suddenly, his eyes glinting. "He too was exceedingly arrogant. A small 
amount of talent on the Quidditch field made him think he was a cut 
above the rest of us too. Strutting around the place with his friends 
and admirers... The resemblance between you is uncanny." 

"My dad didn't strut," said Harry, before he could stop himself. "And 
neither do I." 

237 



"Your father didn't set much store by rules either," Snape went on, 
pressing his advantage, his thin face full of malice. "Rules were for 
lesser mortals, not Quidditch Cup-winners. His head was so swollen --" 

"SHUT UP!" 

Harry was suddenly on his feet. Rage such as he had not felt since his 
last night in Privet Drive was coursing through him. He didn't care that 
Snape's face had gone rigid, the black eyes flashing dangerously. 

"What did you say to me, Potter?" 

"I told you to shut up about my dad!" Harry yelled. I know the truth, 
all right? He saved your life! Dumbledore told me! You wouldn't even be 
here if it wasn't for my dad!" 

Snape's sallow skin had gone the color of sour milk. 

"And did the headmaster tell you the circumstances in which your father 
saved my life?" he whispered. "Or did he consider the details too 
unpleasant for precious Potter's delicate ears?" 

Harry bit his lip. He didn't know what had happened and didn't want to 
admit it -- but Snape seemed to have guessed the truth. 

I would hate for you to run away with a false idea of your father, 
Potter," he said, a terrible grin twisting his face. "Have you been 
imagining some act of glorious heroism? Then let me correct you -- your 
saintly father and his friends played a highly amusing joke on me that 
would have resulted in my death if your father hadn't got cold feet at 
the last moment. There was nothing brave about what he did. He was 
saving his own skin as much as mine. Had their joke succeeded, he would 
have been expelled from Hogwarts." 

Snape's uneven, yellowish teeth were bared. 

"Turn out your pockets, Potter!" he spat suddenly. 

Harry didn't move. There was a pounding in his ears. 

238 



"Turn out your pockets, or we go straight to the headmaster! Pull them 


out, Potter!" 
Cold with dread, Harry slowly pulled out the bag of Zonko's tricks and 
the Marauder's Map. 


Snap picked up the Zonko's bag. 
"Ron gave them to me," said Harry, praying he'd get a chance to tip Ron 


off before Snape saw him. "He -brought them back from Hogsmeade last 
time --" 
"Indeed? And you've been carrying them around ever since? How very 


touching... and what is this?" 


Snape had picked up the map. Ha