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It was enough. Up in the air, Harry was suddenly able to clamber back on
to his broom.
"Neville, you can look!" Ron said. Neville had been sobbing into
Hagrid's jacket for the last five minutes.
Harry was speeding toward the ground when the crowd saw him clap his
hand to his mouth as though he was about to be sick -- he hit the field
on all fours -- coughed -- and something gold fell into his hand.
"I've got the Snitch!" he shouted, waving it above his head, and the
game ended in complete confusion.
"He didn't catch it, he nearly swallowed it," Flint was still howling
twenty minutes later, but it made no difference -- Harry hadn't broken
any rules and Lee Jordan was still happily shouting the results --
Gryffindor had won by one hundred and seventy points to sixty. Harry
heard none of this, though. He was being made a cup of strong tea back
in Hagrid's hut, with Ron and Hermione.
"It was Snape," Ron was explaining, "Hermione and I saw him. He was
cursing your broomstick, muttering, he wouldn't take his eyes off you."
"Rubbish," said Hagrid, who hadn't heard a word of what had gone on next
to him in the stands. "Why would Snape do somethin' like that?"
Harry, Ron, and Hermione looked at one another, wondering what to tell
him. Harry decided on the truth.
"I found out something about him," he told Hagrid. "He tried to get past
that three-headed dog on Halloween. It bit him. We think he was trying
to steal whatever it's guarding."
Hagrid dropped the teapot.
"How do you know about Fluffy?" he said.
"Fluffy?"
"Yeah -- he's mine -- bought him off a Greek chappie I met in the pub
las' year -- I lent him to Dumbledore to guard the
"Yes?" said Harry eagerly.
"Now, don't ask me anymore," said Hagrid gruffly. "That's top secret,
that is."
"But Snape's trying to steal it."
"Rubbish," said Hagrid again. "Snape's a Hogwarts teacher, he'd do
nothin' of the sort."
"So why did he just try and kill Harry?" cried Hermione.
The afternoon's events certainly seemed to have changed her mind about
Snape.
I know a jinx when I see one, Hagrid, I've read all about them!
You've got to keep eye contact, and Snape wasn't blinking at all, I saw
him!"
"I'm tellin' yeh, yer wrong!" said Hagrid hotly. "I don' know why
Harry's broom acted like that, but Snape wouldn' try an' kill a student!
Now, listen to me, all three of yeh -- yer meddlin' in things that don'
concern yeh. It's dangerous. You forget that dog, an' you forget what
it's guardin', that's between Professor Dumbledore an' Nicolas Flamel
--"
"Aha!" said Harry, "so there's someone called Nicolas Flamel involved,
is there?"
Hagrid looked furious with himself.
CHAPTER TWELVE
THE MIRROR OF ERISED
Christmas was coming. One morning in mid-December, Hogwarts woke to find
itself covered in several feet of snow. The lake froze solid and the
Weasley twins were punished for bewitching several snowballs so that
they followed Quirrell around, bouncing off the back of his turban. The
few owls that managed to battle their way through the stormy sky to
deliver mail had to be nursed back to health by Hagrid before they could
fly off again.
No one could wait for the holidays to start. While the Gryffindor common
room and the Great Hall had roaring fires, the drafty corridors had
become icy and a bitter wind rattled the windows in the classrooms.
Worst of all were Professor Snape's classes down in the dungeons, where
their breath rose in a mist before them and they kept as close as
possible to their hot cauldrons.
"I do feel so sorry," said Draco Malfoy, one Potions class, "for all
those people who have to stay at Hogwarts for Christmas because they're
not wanted at home."
He was looking over at Harry as he spoke. Crabbe and Goyle chuckled.
Harry, who was measuring out powdered spine of lionfish, ignored them.
Malfoy had been even more unpleasant than usual since the Quidditch
match. Disgusted that the Slytherins had lost, he had tried to get
everyone laughing at how a wide-mouthed tree frog would be replacing
Harry as Seeker next. Then he'd realized that nobody found this funny,
because they were all so impressed at the way Harry had managed to stay
on his bucking broomstick. So Malfoy, jealous and angry, had gone back
to taunting Harry about having no proper family.
It was true that Harry wasn't going back to Privet Drive for Christmas.
Professor McGonagall had come around the week before, making a list of
students who would be staying for the holidays, and Harry had signed up
at once. He didn't feel sorry for himself at all; this would probably be
the best Christmas he'd ever had. Ron and his brothers were staying,
too, because Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were going to Romania to visit
Charlie.
When they left the dungeons at the end of Potions, they found a large
fir tree blocking the corridor ahead. Two enormous feet sticking out at
the bottom and a loud puffing sound told them that Hagrid was behind it.
"Hi, Hagrid, want any help?" Ron asked, sticking his head through the
branches.
"Nah, I'm all right, thanks, Ron."
"Would you mind moving out of the way?" came Malfoys cold drawl from
behind them. "Are you trying to earn some extra money, Weasley? Hoping
to be gamekeeper yourself when you leave Hogwarts, I suppose -- that hut
of Hagrid's must seem like a palace compared to what your family's used
to."
Ron dived at Malfoy just as Snape came up the stairs.
"WEASLEY!"
Ron let go of the front of Malfoy's robes.
"He was provoked, Professor Snape," said Hagrid, sticking his huge hairy
face out from behind the tree. "Malfoy was insultin' his family."