The Man in the Fire

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Harry and Ron read the notice over the heads of some anxious-looking second-years. "Does this mean they're going to shut down the Gobstones Club?" One of them asked his friend.

"I reckon you'll be okay with Gobstones," Ron said darkly, making the second-year jump. "I don't think we're going to be as lucky, though, do you?" he asked Harry as the second years hurried away. Harry was reading the notice through again. The happiness that had filled him since Saturday was gone. His insides were pulsing with rage.

"This isn't a coincidence," he said, his hands forming fists. "She knows."

"She can't," said Ron at once.

"There were people listening in that pub. And let's face it, we don't know how many of the people who turned up we can trust . . . Any of them could have run off and told Umbridge . . ." And he had thought they believed him, thought they even admired him . . .

"Zacharias Smith!" said Ron at once, punching a fist into his hand. "Or — I thought that Michael Corner had a really shifty look too —"

"I wonder if Hermione's seen this yet?" Harry said, looking around at the door to the girls' dormitories.

"Let's go and tell her," said Ron. He bounded forward, pulled open the door, and set off up the spiral staircase. He was on the sixth stair when it happened. There was a loud, wailing, klaxon-like sound, and the steps melted together to make a long, smooth stone slide. There was a brief moment when Ron tried to keep running, arms working madly like windmills, then he toppled over backward and shot down the newly created slide, coming to rest on his back at Harry's feet.

"Er — I don't think we're allowed in the girls' dormitories," said Harry, pulling Ron to his feet and trying not to laugh. Two fourth-year girls came zooming gleefully down the stone slide.

"Oooh, who tried to get upstairs?" they giggled happily, leaping to their feet and ogling Harry and Ron.

"Me," said Ron, who was still rather disheveled. "I didn't realize that would happen. It's not fair!" he added to Harry as the girls headed off for the portrait hole, still giggling madly. "Hermione's allowed in our dormitory; how come we're not allowed — ?"

"Well, it's an old-fashioned rule," said Hermione, who had just slid neatly onto a rug in front of them and was now getting to her feet, "but it says in Hogwarts, A History that the founders thought boys were less trustworthy than girls. Anyway, why were you trying to get in there?"

"To see you — look at this!" said Ron, dragging her over to the notice board. Hermione's eyes slid rapidly down the notice. "Someone must have blabbed to her!" Ron said angrily.

"They can't have done," said Hermione.

"You're so naive," said Ron, "you think just because you're all honorable and trustworthy —"

"No, they can't have done because I put a jinx on that piece of parchment we all signed," said Hermione grimly. "Believe me, if anyone's run off and told Umbridge, we'll know exactly who they are, and they will really regret it."

"What'll happen to them?" said Ron eagerly.

"I was talking with (Y/N) the other day, and he gave me an idea. Put it this way," said Hermione, "it'll make Eloise Midgen's acne look like a couple of cute freckles. Come on, let's get down to breakfast and see what the others think . . . I wonder whether this has been put up in all the Houses?" 

"Why are you spending so much time with him? He's just like every other Slytherin and Malfoy."

"He is not," Hermione said firmly.

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