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bleeding."

"Not much," said Ron, hastily wiping the cut over his eye with

his sleeve. "Professor, I wanted to watch my sister being Sorted -"

"The Sorting Ceremony is over," said Professor McGonagall.

"Your sister is also in Gryffindor."

"Oh, good," said Ron.

"And speaking of Gryffindor -" Professor McGonagall said

sharply, but Harry cut in: "Professor, when we took the car, term

hadn't started, so - so Gryffindor shouldn't really have points

taken from it - should it?" he finished, watching her anxiously.

Professor McGonagall gave him a piercing look, but he was sure

she had almost smiled. Her mouth looked less thin, anyway.

"I will not take any points from Gryffindor," she said, and

Harry's heart lightened considerably. "But you will both get a de

tention."

It was better than Harry had expected. As for Dumbledore's

writing to the Dursleys, that was nothing. Harry knew perfectly

well they'd just be disappointed that the Whomping Willow hadn't

squashed him flat.

Professor McGonagall raised her wand again and pointed it at Snape's

desk. A large plate of sandwiches, two silver goblets, and a jug of-iced

pumpkin juice appeared with a pop.

"You will eat in here and then go straight up to your dormitory," she

said. "I must also return to the feast."

70

When the door had closed behind her, Ron let out a long, low whistle.

"I thought we'd had it," he said, grabbing a sandwich.

"So did I," said Harry, taking one, too.

"Can you believe our luck, though?" said Ron thickly through a

mouthful of chicken and ham. "Fred and George must've flown that

car five or six times and no Muggle ever saw them." He swallowed

and took another huge bite. "Why couldn't we get through the barrier?"

Harry shrugged. "We'll have to watch our step from now on, though,"

he said, taking a grateful swig of pumpkin juice. "Wish we could've

gone up to the feast ......

"She didn't want us showing off," said Ron sagely. "Doesn't want

people to think it's clever, arriving by flying car."

When they had eaten as many sandwiches as they could (the plate

kept refilling itself) they rose and left the office, treading the familiar

path to Gryffindor Tower. The castle was quiet; it seemed that the

feast was over. They walked past muttering portraits and creaking

suits of armor, and climbed narrow flights of stone stairs, until at last

they reached the passage where the secret entrance to Gryffindor

Tower was hidden, behind an oil painting of a very fat woman in a

pink silk dress.

"Password?" she said as they approached.

"Er -" said Harry.

They didn't know the new year's password, not having met a

Gryffindor prefect yet, but help came almost immediately; they heard

hurrying feet behind them and turned to see Hermione dashing toward

them.

"There you are! Where have you been? The most ridiculous rumors

someone said you'd been expelled for crashing a flying car

"Well, we haven't been expelled," Harry assured her.

"You're not telling me you did fly here?" said Hermione, sounding

71

almost as severe as Professor McGonagall.

"Skip the lecture," said Ron impatiently, "and tell us the new

password."

"It's `wattlebird,"' said Hermione impatiently, "but that's not the point

"

Her words were cut short, however, as the portrait of the fat lady

swung open and there was a sudden storm of clapping. It looked as

though the whole of Gryffindor House was still awake, packed into

the circular common room, standing on the lopsided tables and

squashy armchairs, waiting for them to arrive. Arms reached through

the portrait hole to pull Harry and Ron inside, leaving Hermione to

scramble in after then-t.

"Brilliant!" yelled Lee Jordan. "Inspired! What an entrance! Flying a

car right into the Whomping Willow, people'll be talking about that

one for years -"

"Good for you," said a fifth year Harry had never spoken to; someone

was patting him on the back as though he'd just won a marathon;

Fred and George pushed their way to the front of the crowd and said

together, "Why couldn't we've come in the car, eh?"

Ron was scarlet in the face, grinning embarrassedly, but Harry could

see one person who didn't look happy at all. Percy was visible over

the heads of some excited first years, and he seemed to be trying to

get near enough to start telling them off. Harry nudged Ron in the

ribs and nodded in Percy's direction. Ron got the point at once.

"Got to get upstairs - bit tired," he said, and the two of them started

pushing their way toward the door on the other side of the room,

which led to a spiral staircase and the dormitories.

"'Night," Harry called back to Hermione, who was wearing a scowl

just like Percy's.

They managed to get to the other side of the common room, still

having their backs slapped, and gained the peace of the staircase.

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They hurried up it, right to the top, and at last reached the door of

their old dormitory, which now had a sign on it saying SECOND YEARS.

They entered the familiar, circular room, with its five four-posters

hung with red velvet and its high, narrow windows. Their trunks had

been brought up for them and stood at the ends of their beds.

Ron grinned guiltily at Harry.

"I know I shouldn't've enjoyed that or anything, but ='

The dormitory door flew open and in came the other second year

Gryffindor boys, Seamus Finnigan, Dean Thomas, and Neville

Longbottom.

"Unbelievable!" beamed Seamus.

"Cool," said Dean.

"Amazing," said Neville, awestruck.

Harry couldn't help it. He grinned, too.

* 85 *

H-H A P T E RR s 1 x

GILDEROY LOCKHART

he next day, however, Harry barely grinned once. Things started to go

downhill from breakfast in the Great Hall. The four long house tables

were laden with tureens of porridge, plates of kippers, mountains of

toast, and dishes of eggs and bacon, beneath the enchanted ceiling

(today, a dull, cloudy gray). Harry and Ron sat down at the Gryffindor

table next to Hermione, who had her copy of Voyages with Vampires

propped open against a milk jug. There was a slight stiffness in the

way she said "Morning," which told Harry that she was still

disapproving of the way they had arrived. Neville Longbottom, on the

other hand, greeted them cheerfully. Neville was a round-faced and

accident-prone boy with the worst memory of anyone Harry had ever

met.

"Mail's due any minute - I think Gran's sending a few things I forgot."

73

Harry had only just started his porridge when, sure enough, there was

a rushing sound overhead and a hundred or so owls

streamed in, circling the hall and dropping letters and packages into the

chattering crowd. A big, lumpy package bounced off Neville's head

and, a second later, something large and gray fell into Hermione's jug,

spraying them all with milk and feathers.

"Enrol!" said Ron, pulling the bedraggled owl out by the feet. Errol

slumped, unconscious, onto the table, his legs in the air and a damp red

envelope in his beak.

"Oh, no -" Ron gasped.

"It's all right, he's still alive," said Hermione, prodding Errol gently with

the tip of her finger.

"It's not that - it's that."

Ron was pointing at the red envelope. It looked quite ordinary to

Harry, but Ron and Neville were both looking at it as though they

expected it to explode.

"What's the matter?" said Harry.

"She's - she's sent me a Howler," said Ron faintly.

"You'd better open it, Ron," said Neville in a timid whisper. "It'll be

worse if you don't My gran sent me one once, and I ignored it and"

he gulped - "it was horrible."

Harry looked from their petrified faces to the red envelope.

"What's a Howler?" he said.

But Ron's whole attention was fixed on the letter, which had begun to

smoke at the corners.

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"Open it," Neville urged. "It'll all be over in a few minutes -"

Ron stretched out a shaking hand, eased the envelope from Errol's

beak, and slit it open. Neville stuffed his fingers in his ears. A split

second later, Harry knew why. He thought for a moment it had

exploded; a roar of sound fiIled the huge hall, shaking dust from the

ceiling.

8 _

"-E CAR, I WO ULDN'T HAVE BEEN S UR

STEALING THE

PRISED IF THEY'D EXPELLED YOU, YOU WAIT TILL I GET

HOLD OF YOU, I DON'T SUPPOSE YOU STOPPED TO

THINK WHAT YOUR FATHERAND I WENT THROUGH WHEN

WE SAW IT WAS GONE -"

Mrs. Weasleys yells, a hundred times louder than usual, made the

plates and spoons rattle on the table, and echoed deafeningly off the

stone walls. People throughout the hall were swiveling around to see

who had received the Howler, and Ron sank so low in his chair that

only his crimson forehead could be seen.

"- LETTER FROM DUMBLEDORE LAST NIGHT, I THOUGHT

YOUR FATHER WOULD DIE OF SHAME, WE DIDN'T BRING

YOU UP TO BEHAVE LIKE THIS, YOU AND HARRY COULD

BOTH HAVE DIED -"

Harry had been wondering when his name was going to crop up. He

tried very hard to look as though he couldn't hear the voice that was

making his eardrums throb.

"-ABSOLUTELYDISGUSTED - YOUR FATHER'S FACING AN

INQUIRY AT WORK, IT'S ENTIRELY YOUR FAULT AND IF

YOU PUT ANOTHER TOE OUT OF LINE WE'LL BRING YOU

STRAIGHT BACK HOME."

A ringing silence fell. The red envelope, which had dropped from Ron's

hand, burst into flames and curled into ashes. Harry and Ron sat

75

stunned, as though a tidal wave had just passed over them. A few

people laughed and, gradually, a babble of talk broke out again.

Hermione closed Voyages with Vampires and looked down at the top

of Ron's head.

* 88

"Well, I don't know what you expected, Ron, but you -"

"Don't tell me I deserved it," snapped Ron.

Harry pushed his porridge away. His insides were burning with guilt.

Mr. Weasley was facing an inquiry at work. After all Mr. and Mrs.

Weasley had done for him over the summer ...

But he had no time to dwell on this; Professor McGonagall was

moving along the Gryffindor table, handing out course schedules.

Harry took his and saw that they had double Herbology with the

Hufepuffs first.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione left the castle together, crossed the

vegetable patch, and made for the greenhouses, where the magical

plants were kept. At least the Howler had done one good thing:

Hermione seemed to think they had now been punished enough and

was being perfectly friendly again.

As they neared the greenhouses they saw the rest of the class

standing outside, waiting for Professor Sprout. Harry, Ron, and

Hermione had only just joined them when she came striding into view

across the lawn, accompanied by Gilderoy Lockhart. Professor

Sprout's arms were full of bandages, and with another twinge of guilt,

Harry spotted the Whomping Willow in the distance, several of its

branches now in slings.

Professor Sprout was a squat little witch who wore a patched hat over

her flyaway hair; there was usually a large amount of earth on her

clothes and her fingernails would have made Aunt Petunia faint.

Gilderoy Lockhart, however, was immaculate in sweeping robes of

turquoise, his golden hair shining under a perfectly positioned turquoise

hat with gold trimming.

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"Oh, hello there!" he called, beaming around at the assembled

students. "Just been showing Professor Sprout the right way to doctor

a Whomping Willow! But I don't want you running away with the idea

that I'm better at Herbology than she is! I just happen to have met

several of these exotic plants on my travels . . ."

"Greenhouse three today, chaps!" said Professor Sprout, who was

looking distinctly disgruntled, not at all her usual cheerful self.

There was a murmur of interest. They had only ever worked in

greenhouse one before - greenhouse three housed far more interesting

and dangerous plants. Professor Sprout took a large key from her belt

and unlocked the door. Harry caught a whiff of damp earth and

fertilizer mingling with the heavy perfume of some giant, umbrella-

sized flowers dangling from the ceiling. He was about to follow Ron

and Hermione inside when Lockhart's hand shot out.

"Harry! I've been wanting a word - you don't mind if he's a couple of

minutes late, do you, Professor Sprout?"

Judging by Professor Sprout's scowl, she did mind, but Lockhart said,

"That's the ticket," and closed the greenhouse door in her face.

"Harry," said Lockhart, his large white teeth gleaming in the sunlight

as he shook his head. "Harry, Harry, Harry."

Completely nonplussed, Harry said nothing.

"When I heard -well, of course, it was all my fault. Could have kicked

myself."

Harry had no idea what he was talking about. He was about to say so

when Lockhart went on, "Don't know when I've been more shocked.

Flying a car to Hogwarts! Well, of course, I knew at once why you'd

done it. Stood out a mile. Harry, Harry, Harry."

It was remarkable how he could show every one of those brilliant

teeth even when he wasn't talking.