“That job’s jinxed. No one’s lasted more than a year. . . . Quirrell actually died doing it. . . . Personally, I’m going to keep my fingers crossed for another death. . . .”
“Harry!” said Hermione, shocked and reproachful.
“He might just go back to teaching Potions at the end of the year,” said Ron reasonably. “That Slughorn bloke might not want to stay long-term. Moody didn’t.”
Dumbledore cleared his throat. Harry, Ron, and Hermione were not the only ones who had been talking; the whole Hall had erupted in a buzz of conversation at the news that Snape had finally achieved his heart’s desire. Seemingly oblivious to the sensational nature of the news he had just imparted, Dumbledore said nothing more about staff appointments, but waited a few seconds to ensure that the silence was absolute before continuing.
“Now, as everybody in this Hall knows, Lord Voldemort and his followers are once more at large and gaining in strength.”
The silence seemed to tauten and strain as Dumbledore spoke. Harry glanced at Malfoy. Malfoy was not looking at Dumbledore, but making his fork hover in midair with his wand, as though he found the headmaster’s words unworthy of his attention.
“I cannot emphasize strongly enough how dangerous the present situation is, and how much care each of us at Hogwarts must take to ensure that we remain safe. The castle’s magical fortifications have been strengthened over the summer, we are protected in new and more powerful ways, but we must still guard scrupulously against carelessness on the part of any student or member of staff. I urge you, therefore, to abide by any security restrictions that your teachers might impose upon you, however irksome you might find them — in particular, the rule that you are not to be out of bed after hours. I implore you, should you notice anything strange or suspicious within or outside the castle, to report it to a member of staff immediately. I trust you to conduct yourselves, always, with the utmost regard for your own and others’ safety.”
Dumbledore’s blue eyes swept over the students before he smiled once more.
“But now, your beds await, as warm and comfortable as you could possibly wish, and I know that your top priority is to be well-rested for your lessons tomorrow. Let us therefore say good night. Pip pip!”
With the usual deafening scraping noise, the benches were moved back and the hundreds of students began to file out of the Great Hall toward their dormitories. Harry, who was in no hurry at all to leave with the gawping crowd, nor to get near enough to Malfoy to allow him to retell the story of the nose-stamping, lagged behind, pretending to retie the lace on his trainer, allowing most of the Gryffindors to draw ahead of him. Hermione had darted ahead to fulfill her prefect’s duty of shepherding the first years, but Ron remained with Harry.
“What really happened to your nose?” he asked, once they were at the very back of the throng pressing out of the Hall, and out of earshot of anyone else.
Harry told him. It was a mark of the strength of their friendship that Ron did not laugh.
“I saw Malfoy miming something to do with a nose,” he said darkly.
“Yeah, well, never mind that,” said Harry bitterly. “Listen to what he was saying before he found out I was there. . . .”
Harry had expected Ron to be stunned by Malfoy’s boasts. With what Harry considered pure pigheadedness, however, Ron was unimpressed.
“Come on, Harry, he was just showing off for Parkinson. . . . What kind of mission would You-Know-Who have given him?”
“How d’you know Voldemort doesn’t need someone at Hogwarts? It wouldn’t be the first —”
“I wish yeh’d stop sayin’ tha’ name, Harry,” said a reproachful voice behind them. Harry looked over his shoulder to see Hagrid shaking his head.
“Dumbledore uses that name,” said Harry stubbornly.
“Yeah, well, tha’s Dumbledore, innit?” said Hagrid mysteriously. “So how come yeh were late, Harry? I was worried.”
“Got held up on the train,” said Harry. “Why were you late?”
“I was with Grawp,” said Hagrid happily. “Los’ track o’ the time. He’s got a new home up in the mountains now, Dumbledore fixed it — nice big cave. He’s much happier than he was in the forest. We were havin’ a good chat.”
“Really?” said Harry, taking care not to catch Ron’s eye; the last time he had met Hagrid’s half-brother, a vicious giant with a talent for ripping up trees by the roots, his vocabulary had comprised five words, two of which he was unable to pronounce properly.
“Oh yeah, he’s really come on,” said Hagrid proudly. “Yeh’ll be amazed. I’m thinkin’ o’ trainin’ him up as me assistant.”
Ron snorted loudly, but managed to pass it off as a violent sneeze. They were now standing beside the oak front doors.
“Anyway, I’ll see yeh tomorrow, firs’ lesson’s straight after lunch. Come early an’ yeh can say hello ter Buck — I mean, Witherwings!”
Raising an arm in cheery farewell, he headed out of the front doors into the darkness.
Harry and Ron looked at each other. Harry could tell that Ron was experiencing the same sinking feeling as himself.
“You’re not taking Care of Magical Creatures, are you?”
Ron shook his head. “And you’re not either, are you?”
Harry shook his head too.
“And Hermione,” said Ron, “she’s not, is she?”
Harry shook his head again. Exactly what Hagrid would say when he realized his three favorite students had given up his subject, he did not like to think.
CHAPTER NINE
THE HALF-BLOOD PRINCE
Harry and Ron met Hermione in the common room before breakfast next morning. Hoping for some support for his theory, Harry lost no time in telling Hermione what he had overheard Malfoy saying on the Hogwarts Express.
“But he was obviously showing off for Parkinson, wasn’t he?” interjected Ron quickly, before Hermione could say anything.