was speaking. 

"Oh, fuck this shit." Ploping the last bit of dehydrated ice cream into her mouth and stuffing the wrapper into her pocket, Amelia disappeared.

"... should have an owl from Father any time now. He had to go to the hearing to tell them about my arm... about how I couldn't use it for three months...." 

Crabbe and Goyle sniggered. 

"I really wish I could hear that great hairy moron trying to defend himself... 'There's no 'arm in 'im, 'onest that hippogriff's as good as dead --"

 Malfoy suddenly caught sight of Ron. His pale face split in a malevolent grin.

 "What are you doing, Weasley?" 

Malfoy looked up at the crumbling house behind Ron. 

"Suppose You'd love to live here, wouldn't you, Weasley? Dreaming about having your own bedroom? I heard your family all sleep in one room -- is that true?" 

Harry seized the back of Ron's robes to stop him from leaping on Malfoy. "Leave him to us," he hissed in Ron's ear.Ron could he Amelia chuckle evilly.

The opportunity was too perfect to miss. Harry crept silently around behind Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle, bent down, and scooped a large handful of mud out of the path. 

"We were just discussing your friend Hagrid," Malfoy said to Ron. "Just trying to imagine what he's saying to the Committee for the Disposal of Dangerous Creatures. D'you think he'll cry when they cut off his hippogriff's

SPLAT. 

Malfoy's head jerked forward as the mud hit him; his silverblond hair was suddenly dripping in muck.

SPLAT.

Malfoy was struck in the side with brown sludgy snow, this time by Amelia.