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heading straight for the solid castle wall.

"Noooooo!" Ron yelled, swinging the steering wheel around; they

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missed the dark stone wall by inches as the car turned in a great arc,

soaring over the dark greenhouses, then the vegetable patch, and then

out over the black lawns, losing altitude all the time.

Ron let go of the steering wheel completely and pulled his wand out of

his back pocket

"STOP! STOP!" he yelled, whacking the dashboard and the

windshield, but they were still plummeting, the ground flying up toward

them

"WATCH OUT FOR THAT TREE!" Harry bellowed, lunging for the

steering wheel, but too late

CRUNCH.

With an earsplitting bang of metal on wood, they hit the thick tree

trunk and dropped to the ground with a heavy jolt. Steam was

billowing from under the crumpled hood; Hedwig was shrieking in

terror; a golfball-size lump was throbbing on Harry's head where he

had hit the windshield; and to his right, Ron let out a low, despairing

groan.

"Are you okay?" Harry said urgently.

"My wand," said Ron, in a shaky voice. "Look at my wand -"

It had snapped, almost in two; the tip was dangling limply, held on by a

few splinters.

Harry opened his mouth to say he was sure they'd be able to mend it

up at the school, but he never even got started. At that very moment,

something hit his side of the car with the force of a

* Y4 *

charging bull, sending him lurching sideways into Ron, just as an

equally heavy blow hit the roof.

"What's happen -?"

Ron gasped, staring through the windshield, and Harry looked around

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just in time to see a branch as thick as a python smash into it. The tree

they had hit was attacking them. Its trunk was bent almost double, and

its gnarled boughs were pummeling every inch of the car it could

reach.

"Aaargh!" said Ron as another twisted limb punched a large dent into

his door; the windshield was now trembling under a hail of blows from

knuckle-like twigs and a branch as thick as a battering ram was

pounding furiously on the roof, which seemed to be caving

"Run for it!" Ron shouted, throwing his full weight against his door, but

next second he had been knocked backward into Harry's lap by a

vicious uppercut from another branch.

"We're done for!" he moaned as the ceiling sagged, but suddenly the

floor of the car was vibrating - the engine had restarted.

"Reverse!" Harry yelled, and the car shot backward; the tree was still

trying to hit them; they could hear its roots creaking as it almost ripped

itself up, lashing out at them as they sped out of reach.

"That," panted Ron, "was close. Well done, car -"

The car, however, had reached the end of its tether. With two sharp

clunks, the doors flew open and Harry felt his seat tip sideways: Next

thing he knew he was sprawled on the damp ground. Loud thuds told

him that the car was ejecting their luggage from the trunk; Hedwig's

cage flew through the air and burst open; she rose out of it with an

angry screech and sped off toward the castle

Y5

without a backward look. Then, dented, scratched, and steaming,

the car rumbled off into the darkness, its rear lights blazing angrily.

"Come back!" Ron yelled after it, brandishing his broken wand.

"Dad'll kill me!"

But the car disappeared from view with one last snort from its

exhaust.

"Can you believe our luck?" said Ron miserably, bending down to

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pick up Scabbers. "Of all the trees we could've hit, we had to get

one that hits back."

He glanced over his shoulder at the ancient tree, which was still

flailing its branches threateningly.

"Come on," said Harry wearily, "we'd better get up to the school

......

It wasn't at all the triumphant arrival they had pictured. Stiff, cold,

and bruised, they seized the ends of their trunks and began dragging

them up the grassy slope, toward the great oak front doors.

"I think the feast's already started," said Ron, dropping his trunk at

the foot of the front steps and crossing quietly to look through a

brightly lit window. "Hey - Harry - come and look - it's the Sorting!"

Harry hurried over and, together, he and Ron peered in at the Great

Hall.

Innumerable candles were hovering in midair over four long,

crowded tables, making the golden plates and goblets sparkle.

Overhead, the bewitched ceiling, which always mirrored the sky

outside, sparkled with stars.

Through the forest of pointed black Hogwarts hats, Harry saw a long

line of scared-looking first years fiIing into the Hall. Ginny

* 76

was among them, easily visible because of her vivid Weasley ha-ir.

Meanwhile, Professor McGonagall, a bespectacled witch with her hair

in a tight bun, was placing the famous Hogwarts Sorting Hat on a

stool before the newcomers.

Every year, this aged old hat, patched, frayed, and dirty, sorted new

students into the four Hogwarts houses (Gryffindor, Hufflepuff,

Ravenclaw, and Slytherin). Harry well remembered putting it on,

exactly one year ago, and waiting, petrified, for its decision as it

muttered aloud in his ear. For a few horrible seconds he had feared

that the hat was going to put him in Slytherin, the house that had

turned out more Dark witches and wizards than any other -but he had

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ended up in Gryffindor, along with Ron, Hermione, and the rest of the

Weasleys. Last term, Harry and Ron had helped Gryffindor win the

House Championship, beating Slytherin for the first time in seven

years.

A very small, mousy-haired boy had been called forward to place the

hat on his head. Harry's eyes wandered past him to where Professor

Dumbledore, the headmaster, sat watching the Sorting from the staff

table, his long silver beard and half-moon glasses shining brightly in the

candlelight. Several seats along, Harry saw Gilderoy Lockhart,

dressed in robes of aquamarine. And there at the end was Hagrid,

huge and hairy, drinking deeply from his goblet.

"Hang on. . . " Harry muttered to Ron. "There's an empty chair at the

staff table .... Where's Snape?"

Professor Severus Snape was Harry's least favorite teacher. Harry

also happened to be Snape's least favorite student. Cruel, sarcastic,

and disliked by everybody except the students from his own house

(Slytherin), Snape taught Potions.

"Maybe he's ill!" said Ron hopefully.

"Maybe he's left," said Ha-rry, "because he missed out on the Defense

Against Dark Arts job again!"

"Or he might have been sacked!" said Ron enthusiastically. "I mean,

everyone hates him -"

"Or maybe," said a very cold voice right behind them, "he's waiting to

hear why you two didn't arrive on the school train."

Harry spun around. There, his black robes rippling in a cold breeze,

stood Severus Snape. He was a thin man with sallow skin, a hooked

nose, and greasy, shoulder-length black hair, and at this moment, he

was smiling in a way that told Harry he and Ron were in very deep

trouble.

"Follow me," said Snape.

Not daring even to look at each other, Harry and Ron followed Snape

up the steps into the vast, echoing entrance hall, which was lit with

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flaming torches. A delicious smell of food was wafting from the Great

Hall, but Snape led them away from the warmth and light, down a

narrow stone staircase that led into the dungeons.

"In!" he said, opening a door halfway down the cold passageway and

pointing.

They entered Snape's office, shivering. The shadowy walls were lined

with shelves of large glass) ars, in which floated all manner of

revolting things Harry didn't really want to know the name of at the

moment. The fireplace was dark and empty. Snape closed the door

and turned to look at them.

"So," he said softly, "the train isn't good enough for the famous Harry

Potter and his faithful sidekick Weasley. Wanted to arrive with a bang,

did we, boys?"

"No, sir, it was the barrier at King's Cross, it -"

"Silence!" said Snape coldly. "What have you done with the

car?"

Ron gulped. This wasn't the first time Snape had given Harry the

impression of being able to read minds. But a moment later, he un

derstood, as Snape unrolled today's issue of the Evening Prophet.

"You were seen," he hissed, showing them the headline: FLY

ING FORD ANGLIA MYSTIFIES MUGGLES. He began to read

aloud: "Two Muggles in London, convinced they saw an old car

flying over the Post Office tower ... at noon in Norfolk, Mrs.

Hetty Bayliss, while hanging out her washing ... Mr. Angus Fleet,

of Peebles, reported to police ... Six or seven Muggles in all. I be

lieve your father works in the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office?"

he said, looking up at Ron and smiling still more nastily. "Dear,

dear ... his own son. . . "

Harry felt as though he'd just been walloped in the stomach by

one of the mad tree's larger branches. If anyone found out Mr.

Weasley had bewitched the car ... he hadn't thought of that ....

"I noticed, in my search of the park, that considerable damage

seems to have been done to a very valuable Whomping Willow,"

Snape went on.

"That tree did more damage to us than we -" Ron blurted out.

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"Silence!" snapped Snape again. "Most unfortunately, you are

not in my House and the decision to expel you does not rest with

me. I shall go and fetch the people who do have that happy power.

You will wait here."

Harry and Ron stared at each other, white-faced. Harry didn't

feel hungry any more. He now felt extremely sick. He tried not to

look at a large, slimy something suspended in green liquid on a

shelf behind Snape's desk. If Snape had gone to fetch Professor

McGonagall, head of Gryffindor House, they were hardly any better

off. She might be fairer than Snape, but she was still extremely strict.

Ten minutes later, Snape returned, and sure enough it was Professor

McGonagall who accompanied him. Harry had seen Professor

McGonagall angry on several occasions, but either he had forgotten

just how thin her mouth could go, or he had never seen her this angry

before. She raised her wand the moment she entered; Harry and Ron

both flinched, but she merely pointed it at the empty fireplace, where

flames suddenly erupted.

"Sit," she said, and they both backed into chairs by the fire.

"Explain," she said, her glasses glinting ominously.

Ron launched into the story, starting with the barrier at the station

refusing to let them through.

"

-so we had no choice, Professor, we couldn't get on the train."

"Why didn't you send us a letter by owl? I believe you have an owl?"

Professor McGonagall said coldly to Harry.

Harry gaped at her. Now she said it, that seemed the obvious thing to

have done.

"I - I didn't think -"

"That," said Professor McGonagall, "is obvious."

There was a knock on the office door and Snape, now looking happier

68

than ever, opened it. There stood the headmaster, Professor

Dumbledore.

Harry's whole body went numb. Dumbledore was looking unusually

grave. He stared down his very crooked nose at them, and

*80*

Harry suddenly found himself wishing he and Ron were still being

beaten up by the Whomping Willow.

There was a long silence. Then Dumbledore said, "Please explain why

you did this."

It would have been better if he had shouted. Harry hated the

disappointment in his voice. For some reason, he was unable to look

Dumbledore in the eyes, and spoke instead to his knees. He told

Dumbledore everything except that Mr. Weasley owned the

bewitched car, making it sound as though he and Ron had happened to

find a flying car parked outside the station. He knew Dumbledore

would see through this at once, but Dumbledore asked no questions

about the car. When Harry had finished, he merely continued to peer

at them through his spectacles.

"We'll go and get our stuff," said Ron in a hopeless sort of voice.

"What are you talking about, Weasley?" barked Professor

McGonagall.

"Well, you're expelling us, aren't you?" said Ron.

Harry looked quickly at Dumbledore.

"Not today, Mr. Weasley," said Dumbledore. "But I must impress upon

both of you the seriousness of what you have done. I will be writing to

both your families tonight. I must also warn you that if you do anything

like this again, I will have no choice but to expel you."

Snape looked as though Christmas had been canceled. He cleared his

throat and said, "Professor Dumbledore, these boys have flouted the

Decree for the Restriction of Underage Wizardry, caused serious

damage to an old and valuable tree - surely acts of this nature -"

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* 8i

"It will be for Professor McGonagall to decide on these boys'

punishments, Severus," said Dumbledore calmly. "They are in her

House and are therefore her responsibility." He turned to Professor

McGonagall. "I must go back to the feast, Minerva, I've got to give

out a few notices. Come, Severus, there's a delicious-looking cus

tard tart I want to sample -"

Snape shot a look of pure venom at Harry and Ron as he allowed

himself to be swept out of his office, leaving them alone with Pro

fessor McGonagall, who was still eyeing them like a wrathful eagle.

"You'd better get along to the hospital wing, Weasley, you're