rry had taken his place
between Ron and Hermione, she said, "We'll be repotting Man
drakes today. Now, who can tell me the properties of the Man
drake?"
To nobody's surprise, Hermione's hand was first into the air.
s1
"Mandrake, or Mandragora, is a powerful restorative," said Hermione,
sounding as usual as though she had swallowed the textbook. "It is
used to return people who have been transfigured or cursed to their
original state."
"Excellent. Ten points to Gryffindor," said Professor Sprout. "The
Mandrake forms an essential part of most antidotes. It is also,
however, dangerous. Who can tell me why?"
79
Hermione's hand narrowly missed Harry's glasses as it shot up again.
"The cry of the Mandrake is fatal to anyone who hears it," she said
promptly.
"Precisely. Take another ten points," said Professor Sprout. "Now, the
Mandrakes we have here are still very young."
She pointed to a row of deep trays as she spoke, and everyone
shuffled forward for a better look. A hundred or so tufty little plants,
purplish green in color, were growing there in rows. They looked quite
unremarkable to Harry, who didn't have the slightest idea what
Hermione meant by the "cry" of the Mandrake.
"Everyone take a pair of earmuffs," said Professor Sprout.
There was a scramble as everyone tried to seize a pair that wasn't
pink and fluffy.
"When I tell you to put them on, make sure your ears are completely
covered," said Professor Sprout. "When it is safe to remove them, I
will give you the thumbs-up. Right - earmuffs on."
Harry snapped the earmuffs over his ears. They shut out sound
completely. Professor Sprout put the pink, fluffy pair over her own
ears, rolled up the sleeves of her robes, grasped one of the tufty plants
firmly, and pulled hard.
*92*
Harry let out a gasp of surprise that no one could hear.
Instead of roots, a small, muddy, and extremely ugly baby popped out
of the earth. The leaves were growing right out of his head. He had
pale green, mottled skin, and was clearly bawling at the top of his
lungs.
Professor Sprout took a large plant pot from under the table and
plunged the Mandrake into it, burying him in dark, damp compost until
only the tufted leaves were visible. Professor Sprout dusted off her
hands, gave them all the thumbs-up, and removed her own earmuffs.
80
"As our Mandrakes are only seedlings, their cries won't kill yet," she
said calmly as though she'd just done nothing more exciting than water
a begonia. "However, they will knock you out for several hours, and as
I'm sure none of you want to miss your first day back, make sure your
earmuffs are securely in place while you work. I will attract your
attention when it is time to pack up.
"Four to a tray - there is a large supply of pots here - compost in the
sacks over there - and be careful of the Venemous Tentacula, it's
teething."
She gave a sharp slap to a spiky, dark red plant as she spoke, making
it draw in the long feelers that had been inching sneakily over her
shoulder.
Harry, Ron, and Hermione were joined at their tray by a curly-haired
Hufflepuff boy Harry knew by sight but had never spoken to.
"Justin Finch-Fletchley," he said brightly, shaking Harry by the hand.
"Know who you are, of course, the famous Harry Potter... And you're
Hermione Granger - always top in everything"
* 9%
(Hermione beamed as she had her hand shaken too) "- and Ron
Weasley. Wasn't that your flying car?"
Ron didn't smile. The Howler was obviously still on his mind.
"That Lockhart's something, isn't he?" said Justin happily as they
began fiIling their plant pots with dragon dung compost. "Awfully
brave chap. Have you read his books? Id have died of fear if Id been
cornered in a telephone booth by a werewolf, but he stayed cool and -
zap - just fantastic.
"My name was down for Eton, you know. I can't tell you how glad I
am I came here instead. Of course, Mother was slightly disappointed,
but since I made her read Lockhart's books I think she's begun to see
how useful it'll be to have a fully trained wizard in the family . . . ."
After that they didn't have much chance to talk. Their earmuffs were
81
back on and they needed to concentrate on the Mandrakes. Professor
Sprout had made it look extremely easy, but it wasn't. The Mandrakes
didn't like coming out of the earth, but didn't seem to want to go back
into it either. They squirmed, kicked, flailed their sharp little fists, and
gnashed their teeth; Harry spent ten whole minutes trying to squash a
particularly fat one into a pot.
By the end of the class, Harry, like everyone else, was sweaty,
aching, and covered in earth. Everyone traipsed back to the castle for
a quick wash and then the Gryffindors hurried off to Transfiguration.
Professor McGonagall's classes were always hard work, but today
was especially difficult. Everything Harry had learned last year
seemed to have leaked out of his head during the summer. He was
supposed to be turning a beetle into a button, but all he managed
* 94
to do was give his beetle a lot of exercise as it scuttled over the
desktop avoiding his wand.
Ron was having far worse problems. He had patched up his wand
with some borrowed Spellotape, but it seemed to be damaged beyond
repair. It kept crackling and sparking at odd moments, and every time
Ron tried to transfigure his beetle it engulfed him in thick gray smoke
that smelled of rotten eggs. Unable to see what he was doing, Ron
accidentally squashed his beetle with his elbow and had to ask for a
new one. Professor McGonagall wasn't pleased.
Harry was relieved to hear the lunch bell. His brain felt like a wrung
sponge. Everyone fiIed out of the classroom except him and Ron, who
was whacking his wand furiously on the desk.
"Stupid - useless - thing -"
"Write home for another one," Harry suggested as the wand let off a
volley of bangs like a firecracker.
"Oh, yeah, and get another Howler back," said Ron, stuffing the now
hissing wand into his bag. " 'It's your own fault your wand got snapped -
'"
82
They went down to lunch, where Ron's mood was not improved by
Hermione's showing them the handful of perfect coat buttons she had
produced in Transfiguration.
"What've we got this afternoon?" said Harry, hastily changing the
subject.
"Defense Against the Dark Arts," said Hermione at once.
"Why, "demanded Ron, seizing her schedule, "have you outlined all
Lockhart's lessons in little hearts?"
Hermione snatched the schedule back, blushing furiously.
* 95 *
They finished lunch and went outside into the overcast courtyard.
Hermione sat down on a stone step and buried her nose in Voyages
with Vampires again. Harry and Ron stood talking about Quidditch for
several minutes before Harry became aware that he was being closely
watched. Looking up, he saw the very small, mousy-haired boy he'd
seen trying on the Sorting Hat last night staring at Harry as though
transfixed. He was clutching what looked like an ordinary Muggle
camera, and the moment Harry looked at him, he went bright red.
"All right, Harry? I'm -I'm Colin Creevey," he said breathlessly, taking
a tentative step forward. "I'm in Gryffindor, too. D'you think - would it
be all right if - can I have a picture?" he said, raising the camera
hopefully.
"A picture?" Harry repeated blankly.
"So I can prove I've met you," said Colin Creevey eagerly, edging
further forward. "I know all about you. Everyone's told me. About
how you survived when You-Know-Who tried to kill you and how he
disappeared and everything and how you've still got a lightning scar on
your forehead" (his eyes raked Harry's hairline) "and a boy in my
dormitory said if I develop the film in the right potion, the pictures'll
move." Colin drew a great shuddering breath of excitement and said,
"It's amazing here, isn't it? I never knew all the odd stuff I could do
was magic till I got the letter from Hogwarts. My dad's a milkman, he
couldn't believe it either. So I'm taking loads of pictures to send home
83
to him. And it'd be really good if I had one of you" - he looked
imploringly at Harry - "maybe your friend could take it and I could
stand next to you? And then, could you sign it?"
96
"Signed photos? You're giving out signed photos, Potter?"
Loud and scathing, Draco Malfoy's voice echoed around the
courtyard. He had stopped right behind Colin, flanked, as he always
was at Hogwarts, by his large and thuggish cronies, Crabbe and
Goyle.
"Everyone line up!" Malfoy roared to the crowd. "Harry Potter's
giving out signed photos!"
"No, I'm not," said Harry angrily, his fists clenching. "Shut up,
Malfoy."
"You're just jealous," piped up Colin, whose entire body was about
as thick as Crabbe's neck.
'jealous?"said Malfoy, who didn't need to shout anymore: half the
courtyard was listening in. "Of what? I don't want a foul scar right
across my head, thanks. I don't think getting your head cut open
makes you that special, myself."
Crabbe and Goyle were sniggering stupidly.
"Eat slugs, Malfoy," said Ron angrily. Crabbe stopped laughing and
started rubbing his knuckles in a menacing way.
"Be careful, Weasley," sneered Malfoy. "You don't want to start any
trouble or your Mommy'll have to come and take you away from
school." He put on a shrill, piercing voice. "Ifyou put another toe
out of line' - "
A knot of Slytherin fifth-years nearby laughed loudly at this.
"Weasley would like a signed photo, Potter," smirked Malfoy. "It'd
be worth more than his family's whole house -"
84
Ron whipped out his Spellotaped wand, but Hermione shut Voyages
with Vampires with a snap and whispered, "Look out!"
"What's all this, what's all this?" Gilderoy Lockhart was striding
* 97
toward them, his turquoise robes swirling behind him. "Who's giv
ing out signed photos?"
Harry started to speak but he was cut short as Lockhart flung an
arm around his shoulders and thundered jovially, "Shouldn't have
as