Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix by She-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named

Author:She-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named [She-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Magnus Editions
Published: 2003-04-15T07:00:00+00:00

— T W E N T Y - O N E —

THE EYE OF THE SNAKE

Hermione ploughed her way back to Hagrid’s cabin through two feet of snow on Sunday morning. Harry and Ron wanted to go with her, but their mountain of homework had reached an alarming height again, so they remained grudgingly in the common room, trying to ignore the gleeful shouts drifting up from the grounds outside, where students were enjoying themselves skating on the frozen lake, tobogganing and, worst of all, bewitching snowballs to zoom up to Gryffindor Tower and rap hard on the windows.

“Oi!” bellowed Ron, finally losing patience and sticking his head out of the window, “I am a prefect and if one more snowball hits this window — OUCH!”

He withdrew his head sharply, his face covered in snow.

“It’s Fred and George,” he said bitterly, slamming the window behind him. “Gits . . .”

Hermione returned from Hagrid’s just before lunch, shivering slightly, her robes damp to the knees.

“So?” said Ron, looking up when she entered. “Got all his lessons planned for him?”

“Well, I tried,” she said dully, sinking into a chair beside Harry. She pulled out her wand and gave it a complicated little wave so that hot air streamed out of the tip; she then pointed this at her robes, which began to steam as they dried out. “He wasn’t even there when I arrived, I was knocking for at least half an hour. And then he came stumping out of the Forest —”

Harry groaned. The Forbidden Forest was teeming with the kind of creatures most likely to get Hagrid the sack. “What’s he keeping in there? Did he say?” he asked.

“No,” said Hermione miserably. “He says he wants them to be a surprise. I tried to explain about Umbridge, but he just doesn’t get it. He kept saying nobody in their right mind would rather study Knarls than Chimaeras — oh, I don’t think he’s got a Chimaera,” she added at the appalled look on Harry and Ron’s faces, “but that’s not for lack of trying, from what he said about how hard it is to get eggs. I don’t know how many times I told him he’d be better off following Grubbly-Plank’s plan, I honestly don’t think he listened to half of what I said. He’s in a bit of a funny mood, you know. He still won’t say how he got all those injuries.”

Hagrid’s reappearance at the staff table at breakfast next day was not greeted by enthusiasm from all students. Some, like Fred, George and Lee, roared with delight and sprinted up the aisle between the Gryffindor and Hufflepuff tables to wring Hagrid’s enormous hand; others, like Parvati and Lavender, exchanged gloomy looks and shook their heads. Harry knew that many of them preferred Professor Grubbly-Plank’s lessons, and the worst of it was that a very small, unbiased part of him knew that they had good reason: Grubbly-Plank’s idea of an interesting class was not one where there was a risk that somebody might have their head ripped off.

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