Harry was late? Why was that idiot always late?

When he finally came, he just said "Neville" I growled.

We sprinted back to the one-eyed witch, opened her hump, heaved ourselves inside, and slid down to meet  harry's bag at the bottomof the stone chute. I wiped the Marauder's Map blank again,then set off at a run. 

Harry and I, completely hidden beneath the Invisibility Cloak, emergedinto the sunlight outside Honeydukes and prodded Ron in theback.

 "It's us," Harry muttered. 

"What kept you?" Ron hissed. 

"Neville was hanging around. . . ." 

We set off up the High Street.

 "Where are you?" Ron kept muttering out of the corner of hismouth. "Are you still there? This feels weird. . . ."

 We went to the post office; Ron pretended to be checking theprice of an owl to Bill in Egypt so that Harry and I could have a goodlook around. The owls sat hooting softly down at him, at least threehundred of them; from Great Grays right down to tiny little Scopsowls ("Local Deliveries Only"), which were so small they couldhave sat in the palm of my hand. 

Then we visited Zonko's, which was so packed with studentsHarry and I had to exercise great care not to tread on anyone and cause apanic. There were jokes and tricks to fulfill even Fred's and George'swildest dreams; Harry and I gave Ron whispered orders and passed himsome gold from under the cloak.

 We left Zonko's with ourmoney bags considerably lighter than they had been on entering,but our pockets bulging with Dungbombs, Hiccup Sweets, FrogSpawn Soap, and a Nose-Biting Teacup apiece.

 The day was fine and breezy, and neither of us felt like staying indoors, so we walked past the Three Broomsticks and climbed a slope to visit the Shrieking Shack, the most haunteddwelling in Britain. It stood a little way above the rest of the village,and even in daylight was slightly creepy, with its boarded windowsand dank overgrown garden. 

"Even the Hogwarts ghosts avoid it," said Ron as we leaned onthe fence, looking up at it. "I asked Nearly Headless Nick . . . he sayshe's heard a very rough crowd lives here. No one can get in. Fred andGeorge tried, obviously, but all the entrances are sealed shut. . . ." 

Harry, feeling hot from their climb, was just considering takingoff the cloak for a few minutes I was about to push him off when we heard voices nearby.Someone was climbing toward the house from the other side of thehill; moments later, Draco had appeared, followed closely byCrabbe and Goyle. Malfoy was speaking

.". . . should have an owl from Father any time now. He had togo to the hearing to tell them about my arm . . . about how Icouldn'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 —Really though--" he sighed "father makes a big deal about everything. My friendship was Emma, this.."

I shot harry a smirk,

 Draco suddenly caught sight of Ron. His pale face split in amalevolent 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 sleepin one room — is that true?" 

Harry seized the back of Ron's robes to stop him from leaping on Draco. 

"Leave him to me," he hissed in Ron's ear.

I tried to grab him, but Harry and I had have it crept silentlyaround behind Draco, Crabbe, and Goyle, bent down, andscooped a large handful of mud out of the path. 

"We were just discussing your friend Hagrid," Draco said toRon. "Just trying to imagine what he's saying to the Committee forthe Disposal of Dangerous Creatures. D'you think he'll cry whenthey cut off his hippogriff's —"

 SPLAT. 

Draco's head jerked forward as the mud hit him; his silver-blond hair was suddenly dripping in muck.

 "What the — ?" 

Ron had to hold onto the fence to keep himself standing, he waslaughing so hard. 

Draco Crabbe, and Goyle spun stupidly on thespot, staring wildly around, Draco trying to wipe his hair clean."What was that? Who did that?"

 "Very haunted up here, isn't it?" said Ron, with the air of onecommenting on the weather.Crabbe and Goyle were looking scared. Their bulging muscleswere no use against ghosts. 

Draco was staring madly around at thedeserted landscape.Harry sneaked along the path, where a particularly sloppypuddle yielded some foul-smelling, green sludge.

 SPLATTER. 

Crabbe and Goyle caught some this time. Goyle hopped furiously on the spot, trying to rub it out of his small, dull eyes. 

"It came from over there!" said Draco, wiping his face, and staring at a spot some six feet to the left of Harry and me.

"Harry" I said "stop--"

As Ron was the only person Crabbe could see, it wasRon he started toward, but Harry stuck out his leg. Crabbe stumbled — and his huge, flat foot caught the hem of Harry's cloak.Harry felt a great tug, then the cloak slid off his face. I ducked, so I was hidden.

 For a split second, Draco stared at him. 

"AAARGH!" he yelled, pointing at Harry's head. 

Then heturned tail and ran, at breakneck speed, back down the hill, Crabbeand Goyle behind him.Harry tugged the cloak up again, but the damage was done. 

"Harry!Emma!" Ron said, stumbling forward and staring hopelessly atthe point where Harry had disappeared, "you'd better run for it! IfMalfoy tells anyone — you'd better get back to the castle, quick —"

 "See you later," said Harry, and without another word, we toreback down the path toward Hogsmeade. 

Would Draco believe what he had seen? Would anyone believe Draco ? Nobody knew about the Invisibility Cloak — nobody except Dumbledore. my stomach turned over — Dumbledorewould know exactly what had happened, if Draco said anything — He would have stopped and considered if it was me, but given it's my brother...

Back into Honeydukes, back down the cellar steps, across thestone floor, through the trapdoor — Harry pulled off the cloak,tucked it under his arm, and we ran, flat out, along the passage. . . . Draco would get back first . . . how long would it take him to finda teacher? Panting, a sharp pain in my side, Harry and I didn't slow down until we reached the stone slide. 

we would have to leave the cloakwhere it was, it was too much of a giveaway in case Draco  hadtipped off a teacher — harry hid it in a shadowy corner, then startedto climb, fast as we could, our sweaty hands slipping on the sides ofthe chute.

 We reached the inside of the witch's hump, tapped itwith my wand, stuck my head through, and hoisted ourselves out; thehump closed, and just as Harry and I jumped out from behind thestatue, we heard quick footsteps approaching. 

It was Snape. I quickly shoved the map into Harry's pocket

He approached Harry and me at a swift walk, his blackrobes swishing, then stopped in front of him. 

"So," he said.There was a look of suppressed triumph about him.

 Harry triedto look innocent, all too aware of his sweaty face and his muddyhands, which he quickly hid in his pockets. I did the same, but I was a much better actress, also my hands were clean.

 "Come with me, Potter," said Snape. "Ms Potter. Why are u sweating?"

"Ran from the library, professor. Heard Draco came back."

"I see, you may go to the common room then."

"I want to hear what my brother did, sir."

Harry and I followed him downstairs, Harry trying to wipe his hands cleanon the inside of his robes without Snape noticing. We walkeddown the stairs to the dungeons and then into Snape's office. 

I had been in here only once before, and I had been invery serious trouble then too. Snape had acquired a few more slimyhorrible things in jars since last time, all standing on shelves behindhis desk, glinting in the firelight and adding to the threateningatmosphere.

 "Sit," said Snape

.Harry and I sat. 

Snape, however, remained standing."Mr. Malfoy has just been to see me with a strange story, Potter,"said Snape.

 Harry didn't say anything. My expression remained neutral.

"He tells me that he was up by the Shrieking Shack when he raninto Weasley — apparently alone."

 Still, Harry didn't speak. 

"Mr. Malfoy states that he was standing talking to Weasley,when a large amount of mud hit him in the back of the head. Howdo you think that could have happened?"Harry tried to look mildly surprised. 

"I don't know, Professor."

 Snape's eyes were boring into Harry's. It was exactly like tryingto stare down a hippogriff. Harry was trying hard not to blink. 

"Mr. Malfoy then saw an extraordinary apparition. Can youimagine what it might have been, Potter?"

 "No," said Harry, now trying to sound innocently curious. 

"It was your head, Potter. Floating in midair." 

There was a long silence. 

"Maybe he'd better go to Madam Pomfrey," said Harry. "If he'sseeing things like —"

 "What would your head have been doing in Hogsmeade, Potter?" said Snape softly. "Your head is not allowed in Hogsmeade.No part of your body has permission to be in Hogsmeade." 

"I know that," said Harry, striving to keep his face free of guiltor fear, and suceeding for the most part.

 "It sounds like Malfoy's having hallucin —" 

"Malfoy is not having hallucinations," snarled Snape, and hebent down, a hand on each arm of Harry's chair, so that their faceswere a foot apart. 

"If your head was in Hogsmeade, so was the restof you." 

"I've been up in Gryffindor Tower," said Harry. "Like youtold —" 

"Can anyone confirm that?" 

Harry didn't say anything. 

Snape's thin mouth curled into a horrible smile. 

"So," he said, straightening up again. "Everyone from the Minister of Magic downward has been trying to keep famous Harry and Emma Potter safe from Sirius Black. But famous Harry Potter is a lawunto himself. Let the ordinary people worry about his safety! Famous Harry Potter goes where he wants to, with no thought for theconsequences."

 Harry stayed silent. Snape was trying to provoke him into tellingthe truth.

 "How extraordinarily like your father you are, Potter," Snapesaid suddenly, his eyes glinting. "He too was exceedingly arrogant.A small amount of talent on the Quidditch field made him thinkhe was a cut above the rest of us too. Strutting around the placewith his friends and admirers . . . The resemblance between you isuncanny." 

"With all due respect proffesor, My dad didn't strut," I said, before I could stop myself."And neither does my brother. Nor I"

 "Your father didn't set much store by rules either," Snape wenton, pressing his advantage, his thin face full of malice. "Rules werefor lesser mortals, not Quidditch Cup-winners. His head was soswollen —" 

"SHUT UP!"

 Harry was suddenly on his feet.So, was I. Rage such as I had not feltsince my last night in Privet Drive was coursing through me. I was trying to restrain it, but Harry didn't bother. Hedidn't care that Snape's face had gone rigid, the black eyes flashingdangerously

"What did you say to me, Potter?"

 "I told you to shut up about our dad!" Harry yelled. "I know thetruth, all right? He saved your life! Dumbledore told me! Youwouldn't even be here if it wasn't for our dad!"

"What my brother means to say" I said coldly "is that Professor Dumbledore told us that our father saved you."

 Snape's sallow skin had gone the color of sour milk."And did the headmaster tell you the circumstances in whichyour father saved my life?" he whispered. "Or did he consider thedetails too unpleasant for the precious Potter's delicate ears?" 

Harry bit his lip. We didn't know what had happened and didn'twant to admit it — but Snape seemed to have guessed the truth. 

"I would hate for you to run away with a false idea of your father, Ms Potter," he said, a terrible grin twisting his face. "Have youbeen imagining some act of glorious heroism? Then let me correctyou — your saintly father and his friends played a highly amusingjoke on me that would have resulted in my death if your fatherhadn't got cold feet at the last moment. There was nothing braveabout what he did. He was saving his own skin as much as mine.Had their joke succeeded, he would have been expelled from Hogwarts." 

Snape's uneven, yellowish teeth were bared. 

"Turn out your pockets, Potter!"