"You said you'd already worked out that egg clue!" said Hermione indignantly. Harry had told us he'd only just figured out the secret to the egg, which I was secretly upset about, part of me was hoping he'd never figure it out.
"Keep your voice down!" said Harry crossly. "I just need to — sort of fine-tune it, all right?"
He, Ron, Hermione, and I were sitting at the very back of the Charms class with a table to ourselves. We were supposed to be practicing the opposite of the Summoning Charm today — the Banishing Charm.
Owing to the potential for nasty accidents when objects kept flying across the room, Flitwick had given each student a stack of cushions on which to practice, the theory being that these wouldn't hurt anyone if they went off target.
It was a good theory, but it wasn't working very well. Neville's aim was so poor that he kept accidentally sending much heavier things flying across the room — Flitwick, for instance, and I had managed to get enough power to split a few cushions.
"Just forget the egg for a minute, all right?" Harry hissed as Flitwick went whizzing resignedly past us, landing on top of a large cabinet. "I'm trying to tell you about Snape and Moody. . . ."
This class was an ideal cover for a private conversation, as everyone was having far too much fun to pay them any attention. Harry had been recounting his adventures of the previous night in whispered installments for the last half hour.
"Snape said Moody's searched his office as well?" Ron whispered, his eyes alight with interest as he Banished a cushion with a sweep of his wand (it soared into the air and knocked Parvati's hat off).
"What . . . d'you reckon Moody's here to keep an eye on Snape as well as Karkaroff?"
"Well, I dunno if that's what Dumbledore asked him to do, but he's definitely doing it," said Harry, waving his wand without paying much attention, so that his cushion did an odd sort of belly flop off the desk. "Moody said Dumbledore only lets Snape stay here because he's giving him a second chance or something. . . ."
"What?" said Ron, his eyes widening, his next cushion spinning high into the air, ricocheting off the chandelier, and dropping heavily onto Flitwick's desk. "Harry . . . maybe Moody thinks Snape put your name in the Goblet of Fire!"
"Oh Ron," said Hermione, shaking her head sceptically, "we thought Snape was trying to kill Harry before, and it turned out he was saving Harry's life, remember?"
"She's got a point." I said banishing a cushion so hard that it spilt open as it smashed into the opposite wall.
Hermione then banished a cushion and it flew across the room and landed in the box they were all supposed to be aiming at.
"I don't care what Moody says," Hermione went on. "Dumbledore's not stupid. He was right to trust Hagrid and Professor Lupin, even though loads of people wouldn't have given them jobs, so why shouldn't he be right about Snape, even if Snape is a bit —"
"— evil," said Ron promptly. "Come on, Hermione, why are all these Dark wizard catchers searching his office, then?"
"Why has Mr. Crouch been pretending to be ill?" said Hermione, ignoring Ron. "It's a bit funny, isn't it, that he can't manage to come to the Yule Ball, but he can get up here in the middle of the night when he wants to?"
"You just don't like Crouch because of that elf, Winky," said Ron, sending a cushion soaring into the window.
"You just want to think Snape's up to something," said Hermione, sending her cushion zooming neatly into the box.
"I just want to know what Snape did with his first chance, if he's on his second one," said Harry grimly, and his cushion, to his very great surprise, flew straight across the room and landed neatly on top of Hermione's.
YOU ARE READING
The Weasley of Slytherin: The Goblet of Fire
Fanfiction(Y/n) Weasley, starting to feel disconnected from his family, is staring his fourth year at Hogwarts, and with that brings new adventures, new threats, and new feelings.
