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Harry and Ron waited with bated breath: Malfoy was surely seconds away from telling them it was him - but then

"Hang on," said Harry as Ron and Hermione reached for their glasses. "We'd better not all drink them in here .... Once we turn into Crabbe and Goyle we won't fit. And Millicent Bulstrode's no pixie.

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 ceiling. And that wasn't all. Next to him was another figure, the strangest sight Harry had ever seen.

*187*

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

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"If Id sprouted whiskers, Id take a break from work," said Ron, tipping a stack of books onto Hermione's bedside table one evening.

"Good gracious!" said Madam Pomfrey.

Harry and Ron stood with their mouths open, but Hermione shrugged wearily and said, "Honestly, that was almost cheerful for Myrtle .... Come on, let's go."

Harry started to pick up all his things and throw them into his trunk. It was only as he threw the last of the Lockhart books back into it that he realized what wasn't there.

"D'you think we've got nothing better to do in Potions than listen to Snape?" muttered Ron.

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"There you are," he said.

"That will do," he said sharply. "It is a myth! It does not exist! There is not a shred of evidence that Slytherin ever built so much as a secret broom cupboard! I regret telling you such a foolish story! We will return, if you please, to history, to solid, believable, verifiable fact!"

"What's that?" asked Harry, pointing to something gold sticking out from under Hermione's pillow.

In the end, they decided that they would not say anything to Hagrid unless there was another attack, and as more and more days went by with no whisper from the disembodied voice, they became

Harry peeled the wet pages apart. They were completely blank. There wasn't the faintest trace of writing on any of them, not even Auntie Mabel's birthday, or dentist, half-past three.

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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?"

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head and Ron pulled out several of Crabbe's hairs. They also stole their shoes, because their own were far too small for Crabbe- and Goyle-size feet. Then, still stunned at what they had just done, they sprinted up to Moaning Myrtle's bathroom.

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Harry had no time to reply. At that very moment, a heavy black Bludger came pelting toward him; he avoided it so narrowly that he felt it ruffle his hair as it passed.

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Ron tried a different tack.,

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He came around, rain falling on his face, still lying on the field, with someone leaning over him. He saw a glitter of teeth.;

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