'Excuse me?' said Ron sharply. 'What d'you mean, a bit of whoever we're changing into? I'm drinking nothing with Crabbe's toenails in it ...'

Amelia rolled her eyes. 'Weak.'

Hermione continued as though she hadn't heard him.

'We don't have to worry about that yet, though, because we add those bits last ...'

Ron turned, speechless, to Harry, who had another worry.

'D'you realise how much we're going to have to steal, Hermione? Shredded skin of Boomslang, that's definitely not in the students' cupboard. What're we going to do, break into Snape's private stores? I don't know if this is a good idea ...'

Hermione shut the book with a snap.

'Well, if you two are going to chicken out, fine,' she said. There were bright pink patches on her cheeks and her eyes were brighter than usual. 'I don't want to break rules, you know. I think threatening Muggle-borns is far worse than brewing up a difficult potion. But if you don't want to find out if it's Malfoy, I'll go straight to Madam Pince now and hand the book back in ...'

'I never thought I'd see the day when you'd be persuading us to break rules,' said Ron. 'All right, we'll do it. But not toenails, OK?'

'I'll steal it!' shouted Amelia. 'This is going to be fun. I never took you for one to break rules, Hermione, but I'm glad I was wrong.'

'How long will it take to make, anyway?' said Harry, as Hermione, looking happier, opened the book again.

'Well, as the fluxweed has got to be picked at the full moon and the lacewings have got to be stewed for twenty-one days ... I'd say it'd be ready in about a month, if we can get all the ingredients.'

'A month?' said Ron. 'Malfoy could have attacked half the Muggle-borns in the school by then!' But Hermione's eyes narrowed dangerously again, and he added swiftly, 'But it's the best plan we've got, so full steam ahead, I say.'

However, while Hermione was checking that the coast was clear for them to leave the bathroom, Ron muttered to Harry, 'It'll be a lot less hassle if you can just knock Malfoy off his broom tomorrow.'

Amelia giggled.

*
Harry woke early on Saturday morning and lay for a while think- ing about the coming Quidditch match. He was nervous, mainly at the thought of what Wood would say if Gryffindor lost, but also at the idea of facing a team mounted on the fastest racing brooms gold could buy. He had never wanted to beat Slytherin so badly. After half an hour of lying there with his insides churning, he got