As they came into the castle they spotted

As they came into the castle they spotted Cormac McLaggen entering the Great Hall. It took him two attempts to get through the doors; he ricocheted off the frame on the

first attempt. Ron merely guffawed gloatingly and strode off into the Hall after him, but Harry caught Hermione's arm and held her back.

“What?” said Hermione defensively.

“If you ask me,” said Harry quietly, “McLaggen looks like he was Confunded this morning. And he was standing right in front of where you were sitting.”

Hermione blushed.

“Oh, all right then, I did it,” she whispered. “But you should have heard the way he was talking about Ron and Ginny! Anyway, he's got a nasty temper, you saw how he

reacted when he didn't get in—you wouldn't have wanted someone like that on the team.”


“No,” said Harry. “No, I suppose that's true. But wasn't that dishonest, Hermione? I mean, you're a prefect, aren't you?”

“Oh, be quiet,” she snapped, as he smirked.

“What are you two doing?” demanded Ron, reappearing in the doorway to the Great Hall and looking suspicious.

“Nothing,” said Harry and Hermione together, and they hurried after Ron. The smell of roast beef made Harry's stomach ache with hunger, but they had barely taken

three steps toward the Gryffindor table when Professor Slughorn appeared in front of them, blocking their path.

“Harry, Harry, just the man I was hoping to see!” he boomed genially, twiddling the ends of his walrus mustache and puffing out his enormous belly, “I was hoping to

catch you before dinner! What do you say to a spot of supper tonight in my rooms instead? We're having a little party, just a few rising stars, I've got McLaggen coming

and Zabini, the charming Melinda Bobbin—I don't know whether you know her? Her family owns a large chain of apothecaries—and, of course, I hope very much that Miss

Granger will favor me by coming too.”

Slughorn made Hermione a little bow as he finished speaking. It was as though Ron was not present; Slughorn did not so much as look at him.

“I can't come, Professor,” said Harry at once. “I've got a detention with Professor Snape.”

“Oh dear!” said Slughorn, his face falling comically. “Dear, dear, I was counting on you, Harry! Well, now, I'll just have to have a word with Severus and explain

the situation. I'm sure I'll be able to persuade him to postpone your detention. Yes, I'll see you both later!”

He bustled away out of the Hall.

“He's got no chance of persuading Snape,” said Harry, the moment Slughorn was out of earshot. “This detention's already been postponed once; Snape did it for

Dumbledore, but he won't do it for anyone else.”

“Oh, I wish you could come, I don't want to go on my own!” said Hermione anxiously; Harry knew that she was thinking about McLaggen.

“I doubt you'll be alone, Ginny'll probably be invited,” snapped Ron, who did not seem to have taken kindly to being ignored by Slughorn.

After dinner they made their way back to Gryffindor Tower. The common room was very crowded, as most people had finished dinner by now, but they managed to find a free

table and sat down; Ron, who had been in a bad mood ever since the encounter with Slughorn, folded his arms and frowned at the ceiling. Hermione reached out for a copy

of the Evening Prophet, which somebody had left abandoned on a chair.

“Anything new?” said Harry.

“Not really...” Hermione had opened the newspaper and was scanning the inside pages. “Oh, look, your dad's in here, Ron—he's all right!” she added quickly, for Ron

had looked around in alarm. “It just says he's been to visit the Malfoys’ house. ‘This second search of the Death Eaters residence does not seem to have yielded any

results. Arthur Weasley of the Office for the Detection and Confiscation of Counterfeit Defensive Spells and Protective Objects said that his team had been acting upon

a confidential tip-off.’”