MAGIC AND MYSTERY

Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone Part 8

Dumbledore had convinced Harry not to go looking for the Mirror of Erised again and for the rest of the Christmas holidays the Invisibility Cloak stayed folded at the bottom of his trunk.

Hermione was torn between horror at the idea of Harry being out of bed, roaming the school three nights in a row ("If Filch had caught you!") and disappointment that he hadn't at least found out who Nicolas Flamel was.

"To think all we had to do was eat a couple  of chocolate frogs to find out," Halley shook her head. 

Once term had started, they were back to skimming through books for ten minutes during their breaks. Harry had even less time than the other four, because Quidditch practice had started again.

Wood was working the team harder than ever. Even the endless rain that had replaced the snow couldn't dampen his spirits. The Weasleys complained that Wood was becoming a fanatic. If they won their next match, against Hufflepuff, they would overtake Slytherin in the House Championship for the first time in seven years.

Then, during one particularly wet and muddy practice session, Wood gave the team a bit of bad news. He'd just got very angry with the Weasleys, who kept dive-bombing each other and pretending to fall off their brooms.

"They are just like you and Sirius," Marlene giggled.

Lily nodded in agreement. "It's like you two were reincarnated into them."

"Will you stop messing around!" he yelled. "That's exactly the sort of thing that'll lose us the match! Snape's refereeing this time, and he'll be looking for any excuse to knock points off Gryffindor!"

James choked at this. "He's refereeing! He'll kill my son!"

Snape glared. "For your information, I saved his life!"

James scoffed. "Impossible."

"Can you two quit it for two seconds!" Marlene scowled.

George really did fall off his broom at these words.

Fred burst out laughing.

"Snape's refereeing?" he spluttered through a mouthful of mud. "When's he ever refereed a Quidditch match? He's not going to be fair if we might overtake Slytherin."

The rest of the team landed next to George to complain, too. 

"It's not my fault," Wood said. "We've just got to make sure we play a clean game, so Snape hasn't got an excuse to pick on us."

Snape rolled his eyes. "Honestly."

The rest of the team hung back to talk to each other as usual at the end of practice, but Harry headed straight back to the Gryffindor common room, where he found Ron and Hermione playing chess, and Halley and Maliana playing. 

"Don't talk to me for a moment," Ron said when Harry sat down next to him. "I need to concen–" He caught sight of Harry's face. "What's the matter with you? You look terrible."

"Thanks Ron," Harry said bluntly.

Speaking quietly so that no one else would hear, Harry told the other four about Snape's sudden, sinister desire to be a Quidditch referee.

"Don't play," Maliana said at once.

"Say you're ill," Ron said.

"Pretend to break your leg," Halley suggested.