CHAPTER FOUR !

HALLOWEEN
( philosophers stone )

____________

MALFOY COULDN'T BELIEVE HIS EYES WHEN HE SAW THAT FINN, HARRY, AND RON WERE STILL AT HOGWARTS THE NEXT DAY LOOKING TIRED, BUT PERFECTLY CHEERFUL. Indeed, by the next morning Finn, Harry and Ron thought that meeting the three headed dog had been an excellent adventure, and they were quite keen to have another one. In the meantime, Harry filled them both in about the package that seemed to have been moved from Gringotts to Hogwarts, and they spent a lot of time wondering what could possibly need such heavy protection.

  "It's either really valuable or really dangerous," said Ron.

  "Or both," said Harry.

  But as all they knew for sure about the mysterious object was that it was about two inches long, they didn't have much chance of guessing what it was without further clues. Neither Neville nor Hermione showed the slightest interest in what lay underneath the dog and the trapdoor. All Neville cared about was never going near the dog again.

  Hermione was now refusing to speak to Finn, Harry and Ron, but she was such a bossy know it all that they saw this as an added bonus. All they really wanted now was a way of getting back at Malfoy, and to their great delight, just such a thing arrived in the mail about a week later.

  As the owls flooded into the Great Hall as usual, everyone's attention was caught at once by a long, thin package carried by six large screech owls. Finn was just as interested as everyone else to see what was in this large parcel, and was amazed when the owls soared down and dropped it right in front of him, knocking his bacon to the floor. They had hardly fluttered out of the way when another owl dropped a letter on top of the parcel.

  Harry had ripped open the letter first, which was lucky, because it said:

  DO NOT OPEN THE PARCEL AT THE TABLE.

  It contains your new Nimbus Two Thousand, but I don't want everybody knowing you've got a broomstick or they'll all want one. Oliver Wood will meet you tonight on the Quidditch field at seven o'clock for your first training session.

  Professor McGonagall

  Harry had difficulty hiding his glee as he handed the note to Finn and Ron to read.

  "A Nimbus Two Thousand!" Ron moaned enviously. "I've never even touched one."

  They left the hall quickly, wanting to unwrap the broomstick in private before their first class, but halfway across the entrance hall they found the way upstairs barred by Crabbe and Goyle. Malfoy seized the package from Harry and felt it.

  "That's a broomstick," he said, throwing it back to Harry with a mixture of jealousy and spite on his face. "You'll be in for it this time, Potter, first years aren't allowed them."

  Ron couldn't resist it. "It's not any old broomstick," he said, "it's a Nimbus Two Thousand. What did you say you've got at home, Malfoy, a Comet Two Sixty?" Ron grinned at Harry. "Comets look flashy, but they're not in the same league as the Nimbus." Finn laughed.

  "What would you know about it, Weasley, you couldn't afford half the handle," Malfoy snapped back. "I suppose you and your brothers have to save up twig by twig."

  Before Ron could answer, Professor Flitwick appeared at Malfoy's elbow.

  "Not arguing, I hope, boys?" he squeaked.

  "Potter's been sent a broomstick, Professor," said Malfoy quickly.

  "Yes, yes, that's right," said Professor Flitwick, beaming at Harry. "Professor McGonagall told me all about the special circumstances, Potter. And what model is it?"

  "A Nimbus Two Thousand, sir," said Harry, fighting not to laugh at the look of horror on Malfoy's face. "And it's really thanks to Malfoy here that I've got it," he added.

  Finn, Harry and Ron headed upstairs, smothering their laughter at Malfoy's obvious rage and confusion. "Well, it's true," Harry chortled as they reached the top of the marble staircase, "If he hadn't stolen Neville's Remembrall I wouln't be on the team. . . ."

  "So I suppose you think that's a reward for breaking rules?" came an angry voice from just behind them. Hermione was stomping up the stairs, looking disapprovingly at the package in Harry's hand.

  "I thought you weren't speaking to us?" said Harry.

  "Yes, don't stop now," said Ron, "it's doing us so much good."

Finn shook his head at them both. Hermione marched away with her nose in the air.

Harry had bolted down his dinner that evening without noticing what he was eating, and then rushed upstairs with Finn and Ron to unwrap the Nimbus Two Thousand at last.

  "Wow," Ron sighed, as the broomstick rolled onto Harry's bedspread.

  Even Finn, who knew nothing about the different brooms, thought it looked wonderful. Sleek and shiny, with a mahogany handle, it had a long tail of neat, straight twigs and Nimbus Two Thousand written in gold near the top.

As seven o'cloak drew nearer Harry told Finn and Ron he had to meet Wood for training. Finn waved him goodbye and continued to read Charlottes Web with Artemis cuddled beside him.

• • •

PERHAPS IT WAS BECAUSE HE WAS NOW SO BUSY, WHAT WITH ALL OF HIS HOMEWORK, but Finn could hardly believe it when he realized that he'd already been at Hogwarts two months. The castle felt more like home than he'd ever imagined it would. His lessons, too, were becoming more and more interesting now that they had mastered the basics.

  On Halloween morning they woke to the delicious smell of baking pumpkin wafting through the corridors. Even better, Professor Flitwick announced in Charms that he thought they were ready to start making objects fly, something they had all been dying to try since they'd seen him make Neville's toad zoom around the classroom. Professor Flitwick put the class into pairs to practice. Finn's partner was Harry (which was a relief, because Neville had been trying to catch his eye). but he had also enjoyed working with Harry. Ron, however, was to be working with Hermione Granger. It was hard to tell whether Ron or Hermione was angrier about this. She hadn't spoken to any of them since the day Harry's broomstick had arrived.

  "Now, don't forget that nice wrist movement we've been practicing!" squeaked Professor Flitwick, perched on top of his pile of books as usual. "Swish and flick, remember, swish and flick. And saying the magic words properly is very important, too—never forget Wizard Baruffio, who said 's' instead of 'f' and found himself on the floor with a buffalo on his chest."

  It was very difficult. Harry and Finn swished and flicked, but the feather they were supposed to be sending skyward just lay on the desktop. It was very irritating. Ron, at the next table, wasn't having much more luck.

  "Wingardium Leviosa!" he shouted, waving his long arms like a windmill.

  "You're saying it wrong," Finn heard Hermione snap. "It's Wing-gar-dium Levi-o-sa, make the 'gar' nice and long."

  "You do it, then, if you're so clever," Ron snarled.

  Hermione rolled up the sleeves of her gown, flicked her wand, and said, "Wingardium Leviosa!" Their feather rose off the desk and hovered about four feet above their heads.

  "Oh, well done!" cried Professor Flitwick, clapping. "Everyone see here, Miss Granger's done it!"

  Ron was in a very bad mood by the end of the class. "It's no wonder no one can stand her," he said to Harry and Finn as they pushed their way into the crowded corridor, "she's a nightmare, honestly."

  Someone knocked into Finn as they hurried past him. It was Hermione. He caught a glimpse of her face—and was startled to see that she was in tears.

  "I think she heard you." Finn murmured.

  "So?" said Ron, but he looked a bit uncomfortable. "She must've noticed she's got no friends."

  Hermione didn't turn up for the next class and wasn't seen all afternoon. On their way down to the Great Hall for the Halloween feast, Finn, Harry, and Ron overheard Parvati Patil telling her friend Lavender that Hermione was crying in the girls' bathroom and wanted to be left alone. Ron looked still more awkward at this, but a moment later they had entered the Great Hall, where the Halloween decorations put Hermione out of their minds.

  A thousand live bats fluttered from the walls and ceiling while a thousand more swooped over the tables in low black clouds, making the candles in the pumpkins stutter. The feast appeared suddenly on the golden plates, as it had at the start of term banquet.

Finn was just helping himself to a baked potato when Professor Quirrell came sprinting into the hall, his turban askew and terror on his face. Everyone stared as he reached Professor Dumbledore's chair, slumped against the table, and gasped, "Troll—in the dungeons—thought you ought to know." He then sank to the floor in a dead faint.

  There was an uproar. It took several purple firecrackers exploding from the end of Professor Dumbledore's wand to bring silence.

  "Prefects," he rumbled, "lead your Houses back to the dormitories immediately!"

  Percy was in his element. "Follow me! Stick together, first years! No need to fear the troll if you follow my orders! Stay close behind me, now. Make way, first years coming through! Excuse me, I'm a prefect!"

  "How could a troll get in?" Harry asked as they climbed the stairs.

  "Don't ask me, they're supposed to be really stupid," said Ron. "Maybe Peeves let it in for a Halloween joke."

"Peeves may be a jokester but I don't think he'd let in a troll." Finn said.

  They passed different groups of people hurrying in different directions. As they jostled their way through a crowd of confused Hufflepuffs, Harry suddenly grabbed Finn and Ron's arm.

  "I've just thought—Hermione."

  "What about her?"

  "She doesn't know about the troll." Finn said suddenly.

  Ron bit his lip.  "Oh, all right," he snapped. "But Percy'd better not see us."

  Ducking down, they joined the Hufflepuffs going the other way, slipped down a deserted side corridor, and hurried off toward the girls' bathroom. They had just turned the corner when they heard quick footsteps behind them.

  "Percy!" hissed Ron, pulling both Finn and Harry behind a large stone griffin.

  Peering around it, however, they saw not Percy but Snape. He crossed the corridor and disappeared from view.

  "What's he doing?" Harry whispered. "Why isn't he down in the dungeons with the rest of the teachers?"

  "Beats me." Ron whispered.

  Quietly as possible, they crept along the next corridor after Snape's fading footsteps.

  "He's heading for the third floor," Harry said, but Ron held up his hand.

  "Can you smell something?"

  Finn sniffed and a foul stench reached his nostrils, a mixture of old socks and the kind of public toilet no one seems to clean. And then they heard it—a low grunting, and the shuffling footfalls of gigantic feet. Ron pointed—at the end of a passage to the left, something huge was moving toward them. They shrank into the shadows and watched as it emerged into a patch of moonlight.

  It was a horrible sight. Twelve feet tall, its skin was a dull, granite gray, its great lumpy body like a boulder with its small bald head perched on top like a coconut. It had short legs thick as tree trunks with flat, horny feet. The smell coming from it was incredible. It was holding a huge wooden club, which dragged along the floor because its arms were so long.

  The troll stopped next to a doorway and peered inside. It waggled its long ears, making up its tiny mind, then slouched slowly into the room.

  "The keys in the lock," Harry muttered. "We could lock it in."

  "Good idea," said Ron nervously.

  They edged toward the open door, mouths dry, praying the troll wasn't about to come out of it. With one great leap, Harry managed to grab the key, slam the door, and lock it.

  "Yes!"

  Flushed with their victory, they started to run back up the passage, but as they reached the corner they heard something that made their hearts stop—a high, petrified scream—and it was coming from the chamber they'd just chained up.

  "Oh, no," said Ron, pale as the Bloody Baron.

  "It's the girls' bathroom!" Harry gasped.

  "Hermione!" they said together.

  It was the last thing they wanted to do, but what choice did they have? Wheeling around, they sprinted back to the door and turned the key, fumbling in their panic. Finn pulled the door open and they ran inside. Hermione Granger was shrinking against the wall opposite, looking as if she was about to faint. The troll was advancing on her, knocking the sinks off the walls as it went.

  "Confuse it!" Harry said desperately to Ron, and, seizing a tap, he threw it as hard as he could against the wall.

  The troll stopped a few feet from Hermione. It lumbered around, blinking stupidly, to see what had made the noise. Its mean little eyes saw Finn. It hesitated, then made for him instead, lifting its club as it went.

  "Oy, pea brain!" yelled Ron from the other side of the chamber, and he threw a metal pipe at it. The troll didn't even seem to notice the pipe hitting its shoulder, but it heard the yell and paused again, turning its ugly snout toward Ron instead, giving Finn  time to run around it.

  "Come on, run, RUN!" Finn yelled at Hermione, trying to pull her toward the door, but she couldn't move, she was still flat against the wall, her mouth open with terror.

  The shouting and the echoes seemed to be driving the troll berserk. It roared again and started toward Ron, who was nearest and had no way to escape.

  Harry then did something that was both very brave and very stupid: He took a great running jump and managed to fasten his arms around the troll's neck from behind. The troll couldn't feel Harry hanging there, but even a troll will notice if you stick a long bit of wood up its nose, and Harry's wand had still been in his hand when he'd jumped—it had gone straight up one of the troll's nostrils.

  Howling with pain, the troll twisted and flailed its club, with Harry clinging on for dear life; any second, the troll was going to rip him off or catch him a terrible blow with the club.

  Hermione had sunk to the floor in fright; Ron pulled out his own wand—not knowing what he was going to do he heard himself cry the first spell that came into his head: "Wingardium Leviosa!"

  The club flew suddenly out of the troll's hand, rose high, high up into the air, turned slowly over—and dropped, with a sickening crack, onto its owner's head. The troll swayed on the spot and then fell flat on its face, with a thud that made the whole room tremble. Finn helped Hermione to her feet and they walked slowly to where Ron and Harry were.

  Harry got to his feet. He was shaking and out of breath. Ron was standing there with his wand still raised, staring at what he had done. It was Hermione who spoke first.

  "Is it—dead?"

  "I don't think so," said Harry, "I think it's just been knocked out."

  He bent down and pulled his wand out of the troll's nose. It was covered in what looked like lumpy gray glue.

  "Urgh—troll boogers."

  He wiped it on the troll's trousers.

  A sudden slamming and loud footsteps made the three of them look up. They hadn't realized what a racket they had been making, but of course, someone downstairs must have heard the crashes and the troll's roars. A moment later, Professor McGonagall had come bursting into the room, closely followed by Snape, with Quirrell bringing up the rear. Quirrell took one look at the troll, let out a faint whimper, and sat quickly down on a toilet, clutching his heart.

  Snape bent over the troll. Professor McGonagall was looking at Finn, Ron, and Harry. Finn had never seen her look so angry. Her lips were white. Hopes of winning fifty points for Gryffindor faded quickly from Finn's mind.

  "What on earth were you thinking?" said Professor McGonagall, with cold fury in her voice. Finn looked at Ron, who was still standing with his wand in the air. "You're lucky you weren't killed. Why aren't you in your dormitory?"

  Snape gave them all a swift, piercing look. Finn looked at the floor. He wished Ron would put his wand down. Then a small voice came out of the shadows.

  "Please, Professor McGonagall—they were looking for me."

  "Miss Granger!" Hermione had managed to get to her feet at last.

  "I went looking for the troll because I—I thought I could deal with it on my own—you know, because I've read all about them."

  Ron dropped his wand. Hermione Granger, telling a downright lie to a teacher?

  "If they hadn't found me, I'd be dead now. Harry stuck his wand up its nose and Ron knocked it out with its own club. Finn helped me get out of the way. They didn't have time to come and fetch anyone. It was about to finish me off when they arrived." Finn, Harry and Ron tried to look as though this story wasn't new to them.

  "Well—in that case . . ." said Professor McGonagall, staring at the four of them, "Miss Granger, you foolish girl, how could you think of tackling a mountain troll on your own?"

  Hermione hung her head. Finn was speechless. Hermione was the last person to do anything against the rules, and here she was, pretending she had, to get them out of trouble. It was as if Snape had started handing out sweets.

  "Miss Granger, five points will be taken from Gryffindor for this," said Professor McGonagall. "I'm very disappointed in you. If you're not hurt at all, you'd better get off to Gryffindor tower. Students are finishing the feast in their houses."

  Hermione left. Professor McGonagall turned to Finn, Harry and Ron. "Well, I still say you were lucky, but not many first years could have taken on a full grown mountain troll. You each win Gryffindor five points. Professor Dumbledore will be informed of this. You may go."

  They hurried out of the chamber and didn't speak at all until they had climbed two floors up. It was a relief to be away from the smell of the troll, quite apart from anything else.

  "We should have gotten more than ten points," Ron grumbled.

  "Five, you mean, once she's taken off Hermione's."

  "Good of her to get us out of trouble like that," Ron admitted. "Mind you, we did save her."

  "She might not have needed saving if we hadn't locked the thing in with her," Finn reminded him.

  They had reached the portrait of the Fat Lady.

  "Pig snout," they said and entered.

  The common room was packed and noisy. Everyone was eating the food that had been sent up. Hermione, however, stood alone by the door, waiting for them. There was a very embarrassed pause. Then, none of them looking up at each other, they all said "Thanks," and hurried off to get plates.

  But from that moment on, Hermione Granger became their friend. There are some things you can't share without ending up liking each other, and knocking out a twelve-foot mountain troll is one of them.

• • •

AS THEY ENTERED NOVEMBER, THE WEATHER TURNED VERY COLD. The mountains around the school became icy gray and the lake like chilled steel. Every morning the ground was covered in frost. Hagrid could be seen from the upstairs windows defrosting broomsticks on the Quidditch field, bundled up in a long moleskin overcoat, rabbit fur gloves, and enormous beaverskin boots.

The Quidditch season had begun. On Saturday, Harry would be playing in his first match after weeks of training: Gryffindor versus Slytherin. If Gryffindor won, they would move up into second place in the house championship. Finn was a little worried about him.

It was really lucky that Finn now had Hermione as a friend. He didn't know how he'd have gotten through all his homework without her. He was grateful that she helped him.

Hermione had become a bit more relaxed about breaking rules since Finn, Harry and Ron had saved her from the mountain troll, and she was much nicer for it. The day before Harry's first Quidditch match the four of them were out in the freezing courtyard during break, and she had conjured them up a bright blue fire that could be carried around in a jam jar. They were standing with their backs to it, getting warm, when Snape crossed the yard. Finn had noticed at once that Snape was limping. Finn, Harry, Ron, and Hermione moved closer together to block the fire from view; they were sure it wouldn't be allowed. Unfortunately, something about their guilty faces caught Snape's eye. He limped over. He hadn't seen the fire, but he seemed to be looking for a reason to tell them off anyway.

"What's that you've got there, Potter?"

It was Quidditch Through the Ages. Harry showed him.

"Library books are not to be taken outside the school," said Snape. "Give it to me. Five points from Gryffindor."

"He's just made that rule up," Harry muttered angrily as Finn stared in shock as Snape limped away. "Wonder what's wrong with his leg?" Finn asked.

"Dunno, but I hope it's really hurting him," said Ron bitterly.

The Gryffindor common room was very noisy that evening. Finn, Harry, Ron, and Hermione sat together next to a window. Hermione was checking the boy's Charms homework for them. She would never let them copy ("How will you learn?"), but by asking her to read it through, they got the right answers anyway.

Watching as Harry was suddenly getting up, Finn asked where he was going and Harry told him, Ron, and Hermione he was going to ask Snape if he could have it.

"Better you than me," Ron and Hermione said together, but Finn decided to go with him,

They both made their way down to the staffroom and knocked. There was no answer. Harry knocked again. Nothing.

Perhaps Snape had left the book in there? It was worth a try. Finn and Harry pushed the door ajar and peered inside—and a horrible scene met their eyes.

Snape and Filch were inside, alone. Snape was holding his robes above his knees. One of his legs was bloody and mangled. Filch was handing Snape bandages.

"Blasted thing," Snape was saying. "How are you supposed to keep your eyes on all three heads at once?"

Harry and Finn both tried to shut the door quietly, but—

"POTTER!"

"BLACK!"

Snape's face was twisted with fury as he dropped his robes quickly to hide his leg. Finn gulped.

"I just wondered if I could have my book back." Harry said.

"GET OUT! OUT!"

Harry and Finn left, before Snape could take any more points from Gryffindor. They sprinted back upstairs.

"Did you get it?" Ron asked as Finn and Harry joined them. "What's the matter?" In a low whisper, Harry told them what they had seen.

"You know what this means?" Finn finished breathlessly. "He tried to get past that three headed dog at Halloween! That's where he was going when we saw him—he's after whatever it's guarding! And I'd bet Harry's broomstick he let that troll in, to make a diversion!"

Hermione's eyes were wide. "No—he wouldn't," she said. "I know he's not very nice, but he wouldn't try and steal something Dumbledore was keeping safe."

"Honestly, Hermione, you think all teachers are saints or something," snapped Ron. "I'm with Finn and Harry. I wouldn't put anything past Snape. But what's he after? What's that dog guarding?"

Finn went to bed with his head buzzing with the same question. Neville was snoring loudly, but Finn couldn't sleep. He tried to empty his mind—but the expression on Snape's face when he and Harry had seen his leg wasn't easy to forget.

The next morning dawned very bright and cold. The Great Hall was full of the delicious smell of fried sausages and the cheerful chatter of everyone looking forward to a good Quidditch match.

"You've got to eat some breakfast."

"I don't want anything."

"Just a bit of toast," wheedled Hermione.

"I'm not hungry."

"Harry, you need your strength," said Seamus Finnigan. "Seekers are always the ones who get clobbered by the other team."

"Thanks, Seamus," said Harry, watching Seamus pile ketchup on his sausages.

"Harry, please eat something, you've got too." Finn said. He took a piece of his own toast and ripped it in half, giving Harry some. Harry half-heartedly smiled and ate the half of the toast.

By eleven o'clock the whole school seemed to be out in the stands around the Quidditch pitch. Many students had binoculars. The seats might be raised high in the air, but it was still difficult to see what was going on sometimes.

Finn, Ron and Hermione joined Neville, Seamus, and Dean the West Ham fan up in the top row. As a surprise for Harry, they had painted a large banner on one of the sheets Scabbers had ruined. It said Potter for President, and Dean, who was good at drawing, had done a large Gryffindor lion underneath. Then Hermione had performed a tricky little charm so that the paint flashed different colors.

After long last, Finn had finally saw Harry and the rest of the Gryffindor team walk out into the field. They got into their places, the whistle was blown, and they were off.

"And the Quaffle is taken immediately by Angelina Johnson of Gryffindor—what an excellent Chaser that girl is, and rather attractive, too—"

"JORDAN!"

"Sorry, Professor."

The Weasley twins' friend, Lee Jordan, was doing the commentary for the match, closely watched by Professor McGonagall.

"And she's really belting along up there, a neat pass to Alicia Spinnet, a good find of Oliver Wood's, last year only a reserve—back to Johnson and—no, the Slytherins have taken the Quaffle, Slytherin Captain Marcus Flint gains the Quaffle and off he goes—Flint flying like an eagle up there—he's going to sc—no, stopped by an excellent move by Gryffindor Keeper Wood and the Gryffindors take the Quaffle—that's Chaser Katie Bell of Gryffindor there, nice dive around Flint, off up the field and—OUCH—that must have hurt, hit in the back of the head by a Bludger—Quaffle taken by the Slytherins—that's Adrian Pucey speeding off toward the goal posts, but he's blocked by a second Bludger—sent his way by Fred or George Weasley, can't tell which—nice play by the Gryffindor Beater, anyway, and Johnson back in possession of the Quaffle, a clear field ahead and off she goes—she's really flying—dodges a speeding Bludger—the goal posts are ahead—come on, now, Angelina—Keeper Bletchley dives—misses—GRYFFINDORS SCORE!"

Gryffindor cheers filled the cold air, with howls and moans from the Slytherins.

"Budge up there, move along."

"Hagrid!"

Finn, Ron and Hermione squeezed together to give Hagrid enough space to join them.

"Bin watchin' from me hut," said Hagrid, patting a large pair of binoculars around his neck, "But it isn't the same as bein' in the crowd. No sign of the Snitch yet, eh?"

"Nope," said Ron. "Harry hasn't had much to do yet."

"Kept outta trouble, though, that's somethin'," said Hagrid, raising his binoculars and peering skyward at the speck that was Harry.

As the game went on and Gryffindor scored, Finn grabbed the binoculars and watched as Harry dived from his spot, knowing he spotted the snitch. Just as he was speeding up to it, Marcus Flint hardly shouldered Harry and he was knocked away from it.

"Foul!" screamed the Gryffindors.

Down in the stands, Dean Thomas was yelling, "Send him off, ref! Red card!"

"What are you talking about, Dean?" said Ron.

"Red card!" said Dean furiously. "In soccer you get shown the red card and you're out of the game!"

"But this isn't soccer, Dean," Ron reminded him.

Hagrid, however, was on Dean's side.

"They oughta change the rules. Flint coulda knocked Harry outta the air." Finn nodded, agreeing with Hagrid. He was worried about Harry.

Lee Jordan was finding it difficult not to take sides.

"So—after that obvious and disgusting bit of cheating—"

"Jordan!" growled Professor McGonagall.

"I mean, after that open and revolting foul—"

"Jordan, I'm warning you—"

"All right, all right. Flint nearly kills the Gryffindor Seeker, which could happen to anyone, I'm sure, so a penalty to Gryffindor, taken by Spinnet, who puts it away, no trouble, and we continue play, Gryffindor still in possession."

Lee was still commentating after a while as the game went on. "Slytherin in possession—Flint with the Quaffle—passes Spinnet—passes Bell—hit hard in the face by a Bludger, hope it broke his nose—only joking, Professor—Slytherins score—A no . . ."

"Dunno what Harry thinks he's doing," Hagrid mumbled. He stared through his binoculars. "If I didn' know better, I'd say he'd lost control of his broom . . . but he can't have. . . ."

Suddenly, people were pointing up at Harry all over the stands. His broom had started to roll over and over, with him only just managing to hold on. Then the whole crowd gasped. Harry's broom had given a wild jerk and Harry swung off it. He was now dangling from it, holding on with only one hand.

Finn hurriedly grabbed the binoculars to see Harry was dangling from his broom. He was trying to see if anyone was doing anything in the crowd.

"Did something happen to it when Flint blocked him?" Seamus whispered.

"Can't have," Hagrid said, his voice shaking. "Can't nothing interfere with a broomstick except powerful Dark magic—no kid could do that to a Nimbus Two Thousand."

At these words, Hermione seized Hagrid's binoculars from Finn, but instead of looking up at Harry, she started looking frantically at the crowd, as Finn did.

"What are you doing?" moaned Ron, gray faced.

"I knew it," Hermione gasped, "Snape—look."

Ron grabbed the binoculars. Snape was in the middle of the stands opposite them. He had his eyes fixed on Harry and was muttering nonstop under his breath.

"He's doing something—jinxing the broom," said Hermione.

"What should we do?" Finn asked frantically.

"Leave it to me."

Before Finn could say another word, Hermione had disappeared. Ron turned the binoculars back on Harry. His broom was vibrating so hard, it was almost impossible for him to hang on much longer. The whole crowd was on its feet, watching, terrified, as the Weasleys flew up to try and pull Harry safely onto one of their brooms, but it was no good—every time they got near him, the broom would jump higher still. They dropped lower and circled beneath him, obviously hoping to catch him if he fell. Marcus Flint seized the Quaffle and scored five times without anyone noticing.

"Come on, Hermione," Finn muttered desperately.

Hermione had fought her way across to the stand where Snape stood, and was now racing along the row behind him; she didn't even stop to say sorry as she knocked Professor Quirrell headfirst into the row in front. Reaching Snape, she crouched down, pulled out her wand, and whispered a few, well-chosen words. Bright blue flames shot from her wand onto the hem of Snape's robes.

It took perhaps thirty seconds for Snape to realize that he was on fire. A sudden yelp told her she had done her job. Scooping the fire off him into a little jar in her pocket, she scrambled back along the row—Snape would never know what had happened.

It was enough. Up in the air, Harry was suddenly able to clamber back on to his broom.

"Neville, you can look!" Finn said with relief. Neville had been sobbing into Hagrid's jacket for the last five minutes.

Harry was speeding toward the ground when the crowd saw him clap his hand to his mouth as though he was about to be sick—he hit the field on all fours—coughed—and something gold fell into his hand.

"I've got the Snitch!" he shouted, waving it above his head, and the game ended in complete confusion.

"He didn't catch it, he nearly swallowed it," Flint was still howling twenty minutes later, but it made no difference—Harry hadn't broken any rules and Lee Jordan was still happily shouting the results—Gryffindor had won by one hundred and seventy points to sixty. Harry heard none of this, though. He was being made a cup of strong tea back in Hagrid's hut, with Ron, Hermione, and Finn who was hugging him tightly. He was filled with relief that Harry was okay.

"It was Snape," Ron was explaining, "Hermione Finn and I saw him. He was cursing your broomstick, muttering, he wouldn't take his eyes off you."

"Rubbish," said Hagrid, who hadn't heard a word of what had gone on next to him in the stands. "Why would Snape do somethin' like that?"

Finn, Harry, Ron, and Hermione looked at one another, wondering what to tell him. Harry decided on the truth.

"I found out something about him," he told Hagrid. "He tried to get past that three headed dog on Halloween. It bit him. We think he was trying to steal whatever it's guarding."

Hagrid dropped the teapot.

"How do you know about Fluffy?" he said.

"Fluffy?"

"Yeah—he's mine—bought him off a Greek chappie I met in the pub las' year—I lent him to Dumbledore to guard the—"

"Yes?" said Harry eagerly.

"Now, don't ask me anymore," said Hagrid gruffly. "That's top secret, that is."

"But Snape's trying to steal it." said Finn.

"Rubbish," said Hagrid again. "Snape's a Hogwarts teacher, he'd do nothin' of the sort."

"So why did he just try to kill Harry?" cried Hermione.

The afternoon's events certainly seemed to have changed her mind about Snape.

"I know a jinx when I see one, Hagrid, I've read all about them! You've got to keep eye contact, and Snape wasn't blinking at all, I saw him!"

"I'm tellin' yeh, yer wrong!" said Hagrid hotly. "I don' know why Harry's broom acted like that, but Snape wouldn' try an' kill a student! Now, listen to me, all three of yeh—yer meddlin' in things that don' concern yeh. It's dangerous. You forget that dog, an' you forget what it's guardin', that's between Professor Dumbledore an' Nicolas Flamel—"

"Aha!" said Harry, "so there's someone called Nicolas Flamel involved, is there?"

Hagrid looked furious with himself.