Chapter 15 - Chapter 15

THE FORBIDDEN FOREST

T hings couldn't have been worse.

Filch took them down to Professor McGonagall's study on the first floor,

where they sat and waited without saying a word to each other. Hermione was

trembling. Excuses, alibis, and wild cover- up stories chased each other around

Harry's brain, each more feeble than the last. He couldn't see how they were

going to get out of trouble this time. They were cornered. How could they have

been so stupid as to forget the cloak? There was no reason on earth that

Professor McGonagall would accept for their being out of bed and creeping

around the school in the dead of night, let alone being up the tallest astronomy

tower, which was out-of-bounds except for classes. Add Norbert and the

invisibility cloak, and they might as well be packing their bags already.

Had Harry thought that things couldn't have been worse? He was wrong.

When Professor McGonagall appeared, she was leading Neville.

"Harry!" Neville burst out, the moment he saw the other two. "I was

trying to find you to warn you, I heard Malfoy saying he was going to catch you,

he said you had a drag—"

Harry shook his head violently to shut Neville up, but Professor

McGonagall had seen. She looked more likely to breathe fire than Norbert as she

towered over the three of them.

"I would never have believed it of any of you. Mr. Filch says you were

up in the astronomy tower. It's one o'clock in the morning. Explain yourselves."

It was the first time Hermione had ever failed to answer a teacher's

question. She was staring at her slippers, as still as a statue.

"I think I've got a good idea of what's been going on," said Professor

McGonagall. "It doesn't take a genius to work it out. You fed Draco Malfoy

some cock-and-bull story about a dragon, trying to get him out of bed and into

trouble. I've already caught him. I suppose you think it's funny that Longbottom

here heard the story and believed it, too?"

Harry caught Neville's eye and tried to tell him without words that this

wasn't true, because Neville was looking stunned and hurt. Poor, blundering

Neville — Harry knew what it must have cost him to try and find them in the

dark, to warn them.

"I'm disgusted," said Professor McGonagall. "Four students out of bed in

one night! I've never heard of such a thing before! You, Miss Granger, I thought

you had more sense. As for you, Mr. Potter, I thought Gryffindor meant more to

you than this. All three of you will receive detentions — yes, you too, Mr.

Longbottom, nothing gives you the right to walk around school at night,

especially these days, it's very dangerous — and fifty points will be taken from

Gryffindor."

"Fifty?" Harry gasped — they would lose the lead, the lead he'd won in

the last Quidditch match.

"Fifty points each," said Professor McGonagall, breathing heavily

through her long, pointed nose.

"Professor — please —"

"You can't —"

"Don't tell me what I can and can't do, Potter. Now get back to bed, all

of you. I've never been more ashamed of Gryffindor students."

A hundred and fifty points lost. That put Gryffindor in last place. In one

night, they'd ruined any chance Gryffindor had had for the house cup. Harry felt

as though the bottom had dropped out of his stomach. How could they ever

make up for this?

Harry didn't sleep all night. He could hear Neville sobbing into his

pillow for what seemed like hours. Harry couldn't think of anything to say to

comfort him. He knew Neville, like himself, was dreading the dawn. What

would happen when the rest of Gryffindor found out what they'd done?

At first, Gryffindors passing the giant hourglasses that recorded the house

points the next day thought there'd been a mistake. How could they suddenly

have a hundred and fifty points fewer than yesterday? And then the story started

to spread: Harry Potter, the famous Harry Potter, their hero of two Quidditch

matches, had lost them all those points, him and a couple of other stupid first

years.

From being one of the most popular and admired people at the school,

Harry was suddenly the most hated. Even Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs turned on

him, because everyone had been longing to see Slytherin lose the house cup.

Everywhere Harry went, people pointed and didn't trouble to lower their voices

as they insulted him. Slytherins, on the other hand, clapped as he walked past

them, whistling and cheering, "Thanks Potter, we owe you one!"

Only Ron stood by him.

"They'll all forget this in a few weeks. Fred and George have lost loads

of points in all the time they've been here, and people still like them."

"They've never lost a hundred and fifty points in one go, though, have

they?" said Harry miserably.

"Well — no," Ron admitted.

It was a bit late to repair the damage, but Harry swore to himself not to

meddle in things that weren't his business from now on. He'd had it with

sneaking around and spying. He felt so ashamed of himself that he went to Wood

and offered to resign from the Quidditch team.

"Resign?" Wood thundered. "What good'll that do? How are we going to

get any points back if we can't win at Quidditch?"

But even Quidditch had lost its fun. The rest of the team wouldn't speak

to Harry during practice, and if they had to speak about him, they called him

"the Seeker."

Hermione and Neville were suffering, too. They didn't have as bad a time

as Harry, because they weren't as well-known, but nobody would speak to them,

either. Hermione had stopped drawing attention to herself in class, keeping her

head down and working in silence.

Harry was almost glad that the exams weren't far away. All the studying

he had to do kept his mind off his misery. He, Ron, and Hermione kept to

themselves, working late into the night, trying to remember the ingredients in

complicated potions, learn charms and spells by heart, memorize the dates of

magical discoveries and goblin rebellions....

Then, about a week before the exams were due to start, Harry's new

resolution not to interfere in anything that didn't concern him was put to an

unexpected test. Walking back from the library on his own one afternoon, he

heard somebody whimpering from a classroom up ahead. As he drew closer, he

heard Quirrell's voice.

"No — no — not again, please —"

It sounded as though someone was threatening him. Harry moved closer.

"All right — all right —" he heard Quirrell sob.

Next second, Quirrell came hurrying out of the classroom straightening

his turban. He was pale and looked as though he was about to cry. He strode out

of sight; Harry didn't think Quirrell had even noticed him. He waited until

Quirrell's footsteps had disappeared, then peered into the classroom. It was

empty, but a door stood ajar at the other end. Harry was halfway toward it before

he remembered what he'd promised himself about not meddling.

All the same, he'd have gambled twelve Sorcerer's Stones that Snape had

just left the room, and from what Harry had just heard, Snape would be walking

with a new spring in his step — Quirrell seemed to have given in at last.

Harry went back to the library, where Hermione was testing Ron on

Astronomy. Harry told them what he'd heard.

"Snape's done it, then!" said Ron. "If Quirrell's told him how to break

his Anti-Dark Force spell —"

"There's still Fluffy, though," said Hermione.

"Maybe Snape's found out how to get past him without asking Hagrid,"

said Ron, looking up at the thousands of books surrounding them. "I bet there's a

book somewhere in here telling you how to get past a giant three-headed dog. So

what do we do, Harry?"

The light of adventure was kindling again in Ron's eyes, but Hermione

answered before Harry could.

"Go to Dumbledore. That's what we should have done ages ago. If we try

anything ourselves we'll be thrown out for sure."

"But we've got no proof!" said Harry. "Quirrell's too scared to back us

up. Snape's only got to say he doesn't know how the troll got in at Halloween

and that he was nowhere near the third floor — who do you think they'll believe,

him or us? It's not exactly a secret we hate him, Dumbledore'll think we made it

up to get him sacked. Filch wouldn't help us if his life depended on it, he's too

friendly with Snape, and the more students get thrown out, the better, he'll think.

And don't forget, we're not supposed to know about the Stone or Fluffy. That'll

take a lot of explaining."

Hermione looked convinced, but Ron didn't.

"If we just do a bit of poking around —"

"No," said Harry flatly, "we've done enough poking around."

He pulled a map of Jupiter toward him and started to learn the names of

its moons.

The following morning, notes were delivered to Harry, Hermione, and

Neville at the breakfast table. They were all the same:

Your detention will take place at eleven o'clock tonight.

Meet Mr. Filch in the entrance hall.

Professor McGonagall

Harry had forgotten they still had detentions to do in the furor over the points

they'd lost. He half expected Hermione to complain that this was a whole night

of studying lost, but she didn't say a word. Like Harry, she felt they deserved

what they'd got.

At eleven o'clock that night, they said good-bye to Ron in the common

room and went down to the entrance hall with Neville. Filch was already there

— and so was Malfoy. Harry had also forgotten that Malfoy had gotten a

detention, too.

"Follow me," said Filch, lighting a lamp and leading them outside.

"I bet you'll think twice about breaking a school rule again, won't you,

eh?" he said, leering at them. "Oh yes…hard work and pain are the best teachers

if you ask me….It's just a pity they let the old punishments die out…hang you

by your wrists from the ceiling for a few days, I've got the chains still in my

office, keep 'em well oiled in case they're ever needed…Right, off we go, and

don't think of running off, now, it'll be worse for you if you do."

They marched off across the dark grounds. Neville kept sniffing. Harry

wondered what their punishment was going to be. It must be something really

horrible, or Filch wouldn't be sounding so delighted.

The moon was bright, but clouds scudding across it kept throwing them

into darkness. Ahead, Harry could see the lighted windows of Hagrid's hut. Then

they heard a distant shout.

"Is that you, Filch? Hurry up, I want ter get started."

Harry's heart rose; if they were going to be working with Hagrid it

wouldn't be so bad. His relief must have showed in his face, because Filch said,

"I suppose you think you'll be enjoying yourself with that oaf? Well, think again,

boy — it's into the forest you're going and I'm much mistaken if you'll all come

out in one piece."

At this, Neville let out a little moan, and Malfoy stopped dead in his

tracks.

"The forest?" he repeated, and he didn't sound quite as cool as usual.

"We can't go in there at night — there's all sorts of things in there —

werewolves, I heard."

Neville clutched the sleeve of Harry's robe and made a choking noise.

"That's your problem, isn't it?" said Filch, his voice cracking with glee.

"Should've thought of them werewolves before you got in trouble, shouldn't

you?"

Hagrid came striding toward them out of the dark, Fang at his heel. He

was carrying his large crossbow, and a quiver of arrows hung over his shoulder.

"Abou' time," he said. "I bin waitin' fer half an hour already. All right,

Harry, Hermione?"

"I shouldn't be too friendly to them, Hagrid," said Filch coldly, they're

here to be punished, after all."

"That's why yer late, is it?" said Hagrid, frowning at Filch. "Bin lecturin'

them, eh? 'Snot your place ter do that. Yeh've done yer bit, I'll take over from

here."

"I'll be back at dawn," said Filch, "for what's left of them," he added

nastily, and he turned and started back toward the castle, his lamp bobbing away

in the darkness.

Malfoy now turned to Hagrid.

"I'm not going in that forest," he said, and Harry was pleased to hear the

note of panic in his voice.

"Yeh are if yeh want ter stay at Hogwarts," said Hagrid fiercely. "Yeh've

done wrong an' now yeh've got ter pay fer it."

"But this is servant stuff, it's not for students to do. I thought we'd be

copying lines or something, if my father knew I was doing this, he'd—"

"—tell yer that's how it is at Hogwarts," Hagrid growled. "Copyin' lines!

What good's that ter anyone? Yeh'll do summat useful or yeh'll get out. If yeh

think yer father'd rather you were expelled, then get back off ter the castle an'

pack. Go on."

Malfoy didn't move. He looked at Hagrid furiously, but then dropped his

gaze.

"Right then," said Hagrid, "now, listen carefully, 'cause it's dangerous

what we're gonna do tonight, an' I don' want no one takin' risks. Follow me over

here a moment."

He led them to the very edge of the forest. Holding his lamp up high, he

pointed down a narrow, winding earth track that disappeared into the thick black

trees. A light breeze lifted their hair as they looked into the forest.

"Look there," said Hagrid, "see that stuff shinin' on the ground? Silvery

stuff? That's unicorn blood. There's a unicorn in there bin hurt badly by summat.

This is the second time in a week. I found one dead last Wednesday. We're

gonna try an' find the poor thing. We might have ter put it out of its misery."

"And what if whatever hurt the unicorn finds us first?" said Malfoy,

unable to keep the fear out of his voice.

"There's nothin' that lives in the forest that'll hurt yeh if yer with me or

Fang," said Hagrid. "An' keep ter the path. Right, now, we're gonna split inter

two parties an' follow the trail in diff'rent directions. There's blood all over the

place, it must've bin staggerin' around since last night at least."

"I want Fang," said Malfoy quickly, looking at Fang's long teeth.

"All right, but I warn yeh, he's a coward," said Hagrid. "So me, Harry,

an' Hermione'll go one way an' Draco, Neville, an' Fang'll go the other. Now, if

any of us finds the unicorn, we'll send up green sparks, right? Get yer wands out

an' practice now — that's it — an' if anyone gets in trouble, send up red sparks,

an' we'll all come an' find yeh — so, be careful — let's go."

The forest was black and silent. A little way into it they reached a fork in

the earth path, and Harry, Hermione, and Hagrid took the left path while Malfoy,

Neville, and Fang took the right.

They walked in silence, their eyes on the ground. Every now and then a

ray of moonlight through the branches above lit a spot of silver-blue blood on

the fallen leaves.

Harry saw that Hagrid looked very worried.

"Could a werewolf be killing the unicorns?" Harry asked.

"Not fast enough," said Hagrid. "It's not easy ter catch a unicorn, they're

powerful magic creatures. I never knew one ter be hurt before."

They walked past a mossy tree stump. Harry could hear running water;

there must be a stream somewhere close by. There were still spots of unicorn

blood here and there along the winding path.

"You all right, Hermione?" Hagrid whispered. "Don' worry, it can't've

gone far if it's this badly hurt, an' then we'll be able ter — GET BEHIND THAT

TREE!"

Hagrid seized Harry and Hermione and hoisted them off the path behind

a towering oak. He pulled out an arrow and fitted it into his crossbow, raising it,

ready to fire. The three of them listened. Something was slithering over dead

leaves nearby: it sounded like a cloak trailing along the ground. Hagrid was

squinting up the dark path, but after a few seconds, the sound faded away.

"I knew it," he murmured. "There's summat in here that shouldn' be."

"A werewolf?" Harry suggested.

"That wasn' no werewolf an' it wasn' no unicorn, neither," said Hagrid

grimly. "Right, follow me, but careful, now."

They walked more slowly, ears straining for the faintest sound. Suddenly,

in a clearing ahead, something definitely moved.

"Who's there?" Hagrid called. "Show yerself — I'm armed!"

And into the clearing came — was it a man, or a horse? To the waist, a

man, with red hair and beard, but below that was a horse's gleaming chestnut

body with a long, reddish tail. Harry and Hermione's jaws dropped.

"Oh, it's you, Ronan," said Hagrid in relief. "How are yeh?"

He walked forward and shook the centaur's hand.

"Good evening to you, Hagrid," said Ronan. He had a deep, sorrowful

voice. "Were you going to shoot me?"

"Can't be too careful, Ronan," said Hagrid, patting his crossbow.

"There's summat bad loose in this forest. This is Harry Potter an' Hermione

Granger, by the way. Students up at the school. An' this is Ronan, you two. He's

a centaur.

"We'd noticed," said Hermione faintly.

"Good evening," said Ronan. "Students, are you? And do you learn

much, up at the school?"

"Erm —"

"A bit," said Hermione timidly.

"A bit. Well, that's something." Ronan sighed. He flung back his head

and stared at the sky. "Mars is bright tonight."

"Yeah," said Hagrid, glancing up, too. "Listen, I'm glad we've run inter

yeh, Ronan, 'cause there's a unicorn bin hurt — you seen anythin'?"

Ronan didn't answer immediately. He stared unblinkingly upward, then

sighed again.

"Always the innocent are the first victims," he said. "So it has been for

ages past, so it is now."

"Yeah," said Hagrid, "but have yeh seen anythin' Ronan? Anythin'

unusual?"

"Mars is bright tonight," Ronan repeated, while Hagrid watched him

impatiently. "Unusually bright."

"Yeah, but I was meanin' anythin' unusual a bit nearer home, said

Hagrid. "So yeh haven't noticed anythin'strange?"

Yet again, Ronan took a while to answer. At last, he said, "The forest

hides many secrets."

A movement in the trees behind Ronan made Hagrid raise his bow again,

but it was only a second centaur, black-haired and -bodied and wilder-looking

than Ronan.

"Hullo, Bane," said Hagrid. "All right?"

"Good evening, Hagrid, I hope you are well?"

"Well enough. Look, I've jus' bin askin' Ronan, you seen anythin' odd in

here lately? There's a unicorn bin injured — would yeh know anythin' about it?"

Bane walked over to stand next to Ronan. He looked skyward. "Mars is

bright tonight," he said simply.

"We've heard," said Hagrid grumpily. "Well, if either of you do see

anythin', let me know, won't yeh? We'll be off, then."

Harry and Hermione followed him out of the clearing, staring over their

shoulders at Ronan and Bane until the trees blocked their view.

"Never," said Hagrid irritably, "try an' get a straight answer out of a

centaur. Ruddy stargazers. Not interested in anythin' closer'n the moon."

"Are there many of them in here?" asked Hermione.

"Oh, a fair few….Keep themselves to themselves mostly, but they're

good enough about turnin' up if ever I want a word. They're deep, mind,

centaurs…they know things…jus' don' let on much."

"D'you think that was a centaur we heard earlier?" said Harry.

"Did that sound like hooves to you? Nah, if yeh ask me, that was what's

bin killin' the unicorns – never heard anythin' like it before."

They walked on through the dense, dark trees. Harry kept looking

nervously over his shoulder. He had the nasty feeling they were being watched.

He was very glad they had Hagrid and his crossbow with them. They had just

passed a bend in the path when Hermione grabbed Hagrid's arm.

"Hagrid! Look! Red sparks, the others are in trouble!"

"You two wait here!" Hagrid shouted. "Stay on the path, I'll come back

for yeh!"

They heard him crashing away through the undergrowth and stood

looking at each other, very scared, until they couldn't hear anything but the

rustling of leaves around them.

"You don't think they've been hurt, do you?" whispered Hermione.

"I don't care if Malfoy has, but if something's got Neville…it's our fault

he's here in the first place."

The minutes dragged by. Their ears seemed sharper than usual. Harry's

seemed to be picking up every sigh of the wind, every cracking twig. What was

going on? Where were the others?

At last, a great crunching noise announced Hagrid's return. Malfoy,

Neville, and Fang were with him. Hagrid was fuming. Malfoy, it seemed, had

sneaked up behind Neville and grabbed him as a joke. Neville had panicked and

sent up the sparks.

"We'll be lucky ter catch anythin' now, with the racket you two were

makin'. Right, we're changin' groups — Neville, you stay with me an'

Hermione, Harry, you go with Fang an' this idiot. I'm sorry," Hagrid added in a

whisper to Harry, "but he'll have a harder time frightenin' you, an' we've gotta

get this done."

So Harry set off into the heart of the forest with Malfoy and Fang. They

walked for nearly half an hour, deeper and deeper into the forest, until the path

became almost impossible to follow because the trees were so thick. Harry

thought the blood seemed to be getting thicker. There were splashes on the roots

of a tree, as though the poor creature had been thrashing around in pain close by.

Harry could see a clearing ahead, through the tangled branches of an ancient

oak.

"Look —" he murmured, holding out his arm to stop Malfoy.

Something bright white was gleaming on the ground. They inched closer.

It was the unicorn all right, and it was dead. Harry had never seen

anything so beautiful and sad. Its long, slender legs were stuck out at odd angles

where it had fallen and its mane was spread pearly-white on the dark leaves.

Harry had taken one step toward it when a slithering sound made him

freeze where he stood. A bush on the edge of the clearing quivered.…Then, out

of the shadows, a hooded figure came crawling across the ground like some

stalking beast. Harry, Malfoy, and Fang stood transfixed. The cloaked figure

reached the unicorn, lowered its head over the wound in the animal's side, and

began to drink its blood.

"AAAAAAAAAARGH!"

Malfoy let out a terrible scream and bolted — so did Fang. The hooded

figure raised its head and looked right at Harry — unicorn blood was dribbling

down its front. It got to its feet and came swiftly toward Harry — he couldn't

move for fear.

Then a pain like he'd never felt before pierced his head; it was as though

his scar were on fire. Half blinded, he staggered backward. He heard hooves

behind him, galloping, and something jumped clean over Harry, charging at the

figure.

The pain in Harry's head was so bad he fell to his knees. It took a minute

or two to pass. When he looked up, the figure had gone. A centaur was standing

over him, not Ronan or Bane; this one looked younger; he had white-blond hair

and a palomino body.

"Are you all right?" said the centaur, pulling Harry to his feet.

"Yes — thank you — what was that?"

The centaur didn't answer. He had astonishingly blue eyes, like pale

sapphires. He looked carefully at Harry, his eyes lingering on the scar that stood

out, livid, on Harry's forehead.

"You are the Potter boy," he said. "You had better get back to Hagrid.

The forest is not safe at this time — especially for you. Can you ride? It will be

quicker this way.

"My name is Firenze," he added, as he lowered himself on to his front

legs so that Harry could clamber onto his back.

There was suddenly a sound of more galloping from the other side of the

clearing. Ronan and Bane came bursting through the trees, their flanks heaving

and sweaty.

"Firenze!" Bane thundered. "What are you doing? You have a human on

your back! Have you no shame? Are you a common mule?"

"Do you realize who this is?" said Firenze. "This is the Potter boy. The

quicker he leaves this forest, the better."

"What have you been telling him?" growled Bane. "Remember, Firenze,

we are sworn not to set ourselves against the heavens. Have we not read what is

to come in the movements of the planets?"

Ronan pawed the ground nervously. "I'm sure Firenze thought he was

acting for the best, " he said in his gloomy voice.

Bane kicked his back legs in anger.

"For the best! What is that to do with us? Centaurs are concerned with

what has been foretold! It is not our business to run around like donkeys after

stray humans in our forest!"

Firenze suddenly reared on to his hind legs in anger, so that Harry had to

grab his shoulders to stay on.

"Do you not see that unicorn?" Firenze bellowed at Bane. "Do you not

understand why it was killed? Or have the planets not let you in on that secret? I

set myself against what is lurking in this forest, Bane, yes, with humans

alongside me if I must."

And Firenze whisked around; with Harry clutching on as best he could,

they plunged off into the trees, leaving Ronan and Bane behind them.

Harry didn't have a clue what was going on.

"Why's Bane so angry?" he asked. "What was that thing you saved me

from, anyway?"

Firenze slowed to a walk, warned Harry to keep his head bowed in case

of low-hanging branches, but did not answer Harry's question. They made their

way through the trees in silence for so long that Harry thought Firenze didn't

want to talk to him anymore. They were passing through a particularly dense

patch of trees, however, when Firenze suddenly stopped.

"Harry Potter, do you know what unicorn blood is used for?"

"No," said Harry, startled by the odd question. "We've only used the horn

and tail hair in Potions."

"That is because it is a monstrous thing, to slay a unicorn," said Firenze.

"Only one who has nothing to lose, and everything to gain, would commit such a

crime. The blood of a unicorn will keep you alive, even if you are an inch from

death, but at a terrible price. You have slain something pure and defenseless to

save yourself, and you will have but a half-life, a cursed life, from the moment

the blood touches your lips."

Harry stared at the back of Firenze's head, which was dappled silver in

the moonlight.

"But who'd be that desperate?" he wondered aloud. "If you're going to

be cursed forever, death's better, isn't it?"

"It is," Firenze agreed, "unless all you need is to stay alive long enough

to drink something else — something that will bring you back to full strength

and power — something that will mean you can never die. Mr. Potter, do you

know what is hidden in the school at this very moment?"

"The Sorcerer's Stone! Of course — the Elixir of Life! But I don't

understand who —"

"Can you think of nobody who has waited many years to return to power,

who has clung to life, awaiting their chance?"

It was as though an iron fist had clenched suddenly around Harry's heart.

Over the rustling of the trees, he seemed to hear once more what Hagrid had told

him on the night they had met: "Some say he died. Codswallop, in my opinion.

Dunno if he had enough human left in him to die."

"Do you mean," Harry croaked, "that was Vol-"

"Harry! Harry, are you all right?"

Hermione was running toward them down the path, Hagrid puffing along

behind her.

"I'm fine," said Harry, hardly knowing what he was saying. "The

unicorn's dead, Hagrid, it's in that clearing back there."

"This is where I leave you," Firenze murmured as Hagrid hurried off to

examine the unicorn. "You are safe now."

Harry slid off his back.

"Good luck, Harry Potter," said Firenze. "The planets have been read

wrongly before now, even by centaurs. I hope this is one of those times."

He turned and cantered back into the depths of the forest, leaving Harry

shivering behind him.

Ron had fallen asleep in the dark common room, waiting for them to return.

He shouted something about Quidditch fouls when Harry roughly shook him

awake. In a matter of seconds, though, he was wide-eyed as Harry began to tell

him and Hermione what had happened in the forest.

Harry couldn't sit down. He paced up and down in front of the fire. He

was still shaking.

"Snape wants the stone for Voldemort…and Voldemort's waiting in the

forest…and all this time we thought Snape just wanted to get rich…."

"Stop saying the name!" said Ron in a terrified whisper, as if he thought

Voldemort could hear them.

Harry wasn't listening.

"Firenze saved me, but he shouldn't have done so.…Bane was furious…

he was talking about interfering with what the planets say is going to

happen….They must show that Voldemort's coming back.…Bane thinks Firenze

should have let Voldemort kill me.…I suppose that's written in the stars as well."

"Will you stop saying the name!" Ron hissed.

"So all I've got to wait for now is Snape to steal the Stone," Harry went

on feverishly, "then Voldemort will be able to come and finish me off ... Well, I

suppose Bane'll be happy."

Hermione looked very frightened, but she had a word of comfort.

"Harry, everyone says Dumbledore's the only one You-Know-Who was

ever afraid of with Dumbledore around, You-Know-Who won't touch you.

Anyway, who says the centaurs are right? It sounds like fortune-telling to me,

and Professor McGonagall says that's a very imprecise branch of magic."

The sky had turned light before they stopped talking. They went to bed

exhausted, their throats sore. But the night's surprises weren't over.

When Harry pulled back his sheets, he found his invisibility cloak folded

neatly underneath them. There was a note pinned to it:

Just in case.