Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone (26 page)

‘Well, well, well,’ he whispered, ‘we
are
in trouble.’

They’d left the Invisibility Cloak on top of the tower.

Things couldn’t have been worse.

Filch took them down to Professor McGonagall’s study on the first floor, where they sat and waited without saying a word to each other. Hermione was trembling. Excuses, alibis and wild cover-up stories chased each other around Harry’s brain, each more feeble than the last. He couldn’t see how they were going to get out of trouble this time. They were cornered. How could they have been so stupid as to forget the Cloak? There was no reason on earth that Professor McGonagall would accept for their being out of bed and creeping around the school in the dead of night, let alone being up the tallest astronomy tower, which was out-of-bounds except for classes. Add Norbert and the Invisibility Cloak and they might as well be packing their bags already.

Had Harry thought that things couldn’t have been worse? He was wrong. When Professor McGonagall appeared, she was leading Neville.

‘Harry!’ Neville burst out, the moment he saw the other two. ‘I was trying to find you to warn you, I heard Malfoy saying he was going to catch you, he said you had a drag–’

Harry shook his head violently to shut Neville up, but Professor McGonagall had seen. She looked more likely to breathe fire than Norbert as she towered over the three of them.

‘I would never have believed it of any of you. Mr Filch says you were up the astronomy tower. It’s one o’clock in the morning.
Explain yourselves.
’

It was the first time Hermione had ever failed to answer a teacher’s question. She was staring at her slippers, as still as a statue.

‘I think I’ve got a good idea of what’s been going on,’ said Professor McGonagall. ‘It doesn’t take a genius to work it out. You fed Draco Malfoy some cock-and-bull story about a dragon, trying to get him out of bed and into trouble. I’ve already caught him. I suppose you think it’s funny that Longbottom here heard the story and believed it, too?’

Harry caught Neville’s eye and tried to tell him without words that this wasn’t true, because Neville was looking stunned and hurt. Poor, blundering Neville – Harry knew what it must have cost him to try and find them in the dark, to warn them.

‘I’m disgusted,’ said Professor McGonagall. ‘Four students out of bed in one night! I’ve never heard of such a thing before! You, Miss Granger, I thought you had more sense. As for you, Mr Potter, I thought Gryffindor meant more to you than this. All three of you will receive detentions – yes, you too, Mr Longbottom,
nothing
gives you the right to walk around school at night, especially these days, it’s very dangerous – and fifty points will be taken from Gryffindor.’

‘Fifty?’
Harry gasped – they would lose the lead, the lead he’d won in the last Quidditch match.

‘Fifty points
each
,’ said Professor McGonagall, breathing heavily through her long pointed nose.

‘Professor – please –’

‘You
can’t
–’

‘Don’t tell me what I can and can’t do, Potter. Now get back to bed, all of you. I’ve never been more ashamed of Gryffindor students.’

A hundred and fifty points lost. That put Gryffindor in last place. In one night, they’d ruined any chance Gryffindor had had for the House Cup. Harry felt as though the bottom had dropped out of his stomach. How could they ever make up for this?

Harry didn’t sleep all night. He could hear Neville sobbing into his pillow for what seemed like hours. Harry couldn’t think of anything to say to comfort him. He knew Neville, like himself, was dreading the dawn. What would happen when the rest of Gryffindor found out what they’d done?

At first, Gryffindors passing the giant hour-glasses that recorded the house points next day thought there’d been a mistake. How could they suddenly have a hundred and fifty points fewer than yesterday? And then the story started to spread: Harry Potter, the famous Harry Potter, their hero of two Quidditch matches, had lost them all those points, him and a couple of other stupid first-years.

From being one of the most popular and admired people at the school, Harry was suddenly the most hated. Even Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs turned on him, because everyone had been longing to see Slytherin lose the House Cup. Everywhere Harry went, people pointed and didn’t trouble to lower their voices as they insulted him. Slytherins, on the other hand, clapped as he walked past them, whistling and cheering, ‘Thanks Potter, we owe you one!’

Only Ron stood by him.

‘They’ll all forget this in a few weeks. Fred and George have lost loads of points in all the time they’ve been here, and people still like them.’

‘They’ve never lost a hundred and fifty points in one go, though, have they?’ said Harry miserably.

‘Well – no,’ Ron admitted.

It was a bit late to repair the damage, but Harry swore to himself not to meddle in things that weren’t his business from now on. He’d had it with sneaking around and spying. He felt so ashamed of himself that he went to Wood and offered to resign from the Quidditch team.

‘Resign?’
Wood thundered. ‘What good’ll that do? How are we going to get any points back if we can’t win at Quidditch?’

But even Quidditch had lost its fun. The rest of the team wouldn’t speak to Harry during practice, and if they had to speak about him, they called him ‘the Seeker’.

Hermione and Neville were suffering, too. They didn’t have as bad a time as Harry, because they weren’t as well known, but nobody would speak to them either. Hermione had stopped drawing attention to herself in class, keeping her head down and working in silence.

Harry was almost glad that the exams weren’t far away. All the revision he had to do kept his mind off his misery. He, Ron and Hermione kept to themselves, working late into the night, trying to remember the ingredients in complicated potions, learn charms and spells off by heart, memorise the dates of magical discoveries and goblin rebellions …

Then, about a week before the exams were due to start, Harry’s new resolution not to interfere in anything that didn’t concern him was put to an unexpected test. Walking back from the library on his own one afternoon, he heard somebody whimpering from a classroom up ahead. As he drew closer, he heard Quirrell’s voice.

‘No – no – not again, please –’

It sounded as though someone was threatening him. Harry moved closer.

‘All right – all right –’ he heard Quirrell sob.

Next second, Quirrell came hurrying out of the classroom, straightening his turban. He was pale and looked as though he was about to cry. He strode out of sight; Harry didn’t think Quirrell had even noticed him. He waited until Quirrell’s footsteps had disappeared, then peered into the classroom. It was empty, but a door stood ajar at the other end. Harry was halfway towards it before he remembered what he’d promised himself about not meddling.

All the same, he’d have gambled twelve Philosopher’s Stones that Snape had just left the room, and from what Harry had just heard, Snape would be walking with a new spring in his step – Quirrell seemed to have given in at last.

Harry went back to the library, where Hermione was testing Ron on Astronomy. Harry told them what he’d heard.

‘Snape’s done it, then!’ said Ron. ‘If Quirrell’s told him how to break his Anti-Dark Force spell –’

‘There’s still Fluffy, though,’ said Hermione.

‘Maybe Snape’s found out how to get past him without asking Hagrid,’ said Ron, looking up at the thousands of books surrounding them. ‘I bet there’s a book somewhere in here, telling you how to get past a giant three-headed dog. So what do we do, Harry?’

The light of adventure was kindling again in Ron’s eyes, but Hermione answered before Harry could.

‘Go to Dumbledore. That’s what we should have done ages ago. If we try anything ourselves we’ll be thrown out for sure.’

‘But we’ve got no
proof!
’ said Harry. ‘Quirrell’s too scared to back us up. Snape’s only got to say he doesn’t know how the troll got in at Hallowe’en and that he was nowhere near the third floor – who do you think they’ll believe, him or us? It’s not exactly a secret we hate him, Dumbledore’ll think we made it up to get him sacked. Filch wouldn’t help us if his life depended on it, he’s too friendly with Snape, and the more students get thrown out, the better, he’ll think. And don’t forget, we’re not supposed to know about the Stone or Fluffy. That’ll take a lot of explaining.’

Hermione looked convinced, but Ron didn’t.

‘If we just do a bit of poking around –’

‘No,’ said Harry flatly, ‘we’ve done enough poking around.’

He pulled a map of Jupiter towards him and started to learn the names of its moons.

*

The following morning, notes were delivered to Harry, Hermione and Neville at the breakfast table. They were all the same:

Harry had forgotten they still had detentions to do in the furore over the points they’d lost. He half expected Hermione to complain that this was a whole night of revision lost, but she didn’t say a word. Like Harry, she felt they deserved what they’d got.

At eleven o’clock that night they said goodbye to Ron in the common room and went down to the entrance hall with Neville. Filch was already there – and so was Malfoy. Harry had also forgotten that Malfoy had got a detention, too.

‘Follow me,’ said Filch, lighting a lamp and leading them outside. ‘I bet you’ll think twice about breaking a school rule again, won’t you, eh?’ he continued, leering at them. ‘Oh yes … hard work and pain are the best teachers if you ask me … It’s just a pity they let the old punishments die out … hang you by your wrists from the ceiling for a few days, I’ve got the chains still in my office, keep ’em well oiled in case they’re ever needed … Right, off we go, and don’t think of running off, now, it’ll be worse for you if you do.’

They marched off across the dark grounds. Neville kept sniffing. Harry wondered what their punishment was going to be. It must be something really horrible, or Filch wouldn’t be sounding so delighted.

The moon was bright, but clouds scudding across it kept throwing them into darkness. Ahead, Harry could see the lighted windows of Hagrid’s hut. Then they heard a distant shout.

‘Is that you, Filch? Hurry up, I want ter get started.’

Harry’s heart rose; if they were going to be working with Hagrid it wouldn’t be so bad. His relief must have showed in his face, because Filch said, ‘I suppose you think you’ll be enjoying yourself with that oaf? Well, think again, boy – it’s into the Forest you’re going and I’m much mistaken if you’ll all come out in one piece.’

At this, Neville let out a little moan and Malfoy stopped dead in his tracks.

‘The Forest?’ he repeated, and he didn’t sound quite as cool as usual. ‘We can’t go in there at night – there’s all sorts of things in there – werewolves, I heard.’

Neville clutched the sleeve of Harry’s robe and made a choking noise.

‘That’s your lookout, isn’t it?’ said Filch, his voice cracking with glee. ‘Should’ve thought of them werewolves before you got in trouble, shouldn’t you?’

Hagrid came striding towards them out of the dark, Fang at his heel. He was carrying his large crossbow, and a quiver of arrows hung over his shoulder.

‘Abou’ time,’ he said. ‘I bin waitin’ fer half an hour already. All right, Harry, Hermione?’

‘I shouldn’t be too friendly to them, Hagrid,’ said Filch coldly, ‘they’re here to be punished, after all.’

‘That’s why yer late, is it?’ said Hagrid, frowning at Filch. ‘Bin lecturin’ them, eh? ’Snot your place ter do that. Yeh’ve done yer bit, I’ll take over from here.’

‘I’ll be back at dawn,’ said Filch, ‘for what’s left of them,’ he added nastily, and he turned and started back towards the castle, his lamp bobbing away in the darkness.

Malfoy now turned to Hagrid.

‘I’m not going in that Forest,’ he said, and Harry was pleased to hear the note of panic in his voice.

‘Yeh are if yeh want ter stay at Hogwarts,’ said Hagrid fiercely. ‘Yeh’ve done wrong an’ now yeh’ve got ter pay fer it.’

‘But this is servant stuff, it’s not for students to do. I thought we’d be writing lines or something. If my father knew I was doing this, he’d –’

‘– tell yer that’s how it is at Hogwarts,’ Hagrid growled. ‘Writin’ lines! What good’s that ter anyone? Yeh’ll do summat useful or yeh’ll get out. If yeh think yer father’d rather you were expelled, then get back off ter the castle an’ pack. Go on!’

Malfoy didn’t move. He looked at Hagrid furiously but then dropped his gaze.

‘Right then,’ said Hagrid, ‘now, listen carefully, ’cause it’s dangerous what we’re gonna do tonight an’ I don’ want no one takin’ risks. Follow me over here a moment.’

He led them to the very edge of the Forest. Holding his lamp up high he pointed down a narrow, winding earth track that disappeared into the thick black trees. A light breeze lifted their hair as they looked into the Forest.

‘Look there,’ said Hagrid, ‘see that stuff shinin’ on the ground? Silvery stuff? That’s unicorn blood. There’s a unicorn in there bin hurt badly by summat. This is the second time in a week. I found one dead last Wednesday. We’re gonna try an’ find the poor thing. We might have ter put it out of its misery.’

‘And what if whatever hurt the unicorn finds us first?’ said Malfoy, unable to keep the fear out of his voice.

‘There’s nothin’ that lives in the Forest that’ll hurt yeh if yer with me or Fang,’ said Hagrid. ‘An’ keep ter the path. Right, now, we’re gonna split inter two parties an’ follow the trail in diff’rent directions. There’s blood all over the place, it must’ve bin staggerin’ around since last night at least.’

‘I want Fang,’ said Malfoy quickly, looking at Fang’s long teeth.

‘All right, but I warn yeh, he’s a coward,’ said Hagrid. ‘So me, Harry an’ Hermione’ll go one way an’ Draco, Neville an’ Fang’ll go the other. Now, if any of us finds the unicorn, we’ll send up green sparks, right? Get yer wands out an’ practise now – that’s it – an’ if anyone gets in trouble, send up red sparks, an’ we’ll all come an’ find yeh – so, be careful – let’s go.’