'We're supposed to patrol the corridors every so often,' he told Harry and Neville, 'and we can give out punishments if people are misbehaving. I can't wait to get Crabbe and Goyle for something
'You're not supposed to abuse your position, Ron!' said Hermione sharply.
'For heaven's sake, Ron -'
'I'll make Goyle do lines, it'll kill him, he hates writing,' said Ron happily. He lowered his voice to Goyle's low grunt and, screwing up his face in a look of pained concentration, mimed writing in midair. 'I… must… not… look…like… a… baboon's… backside.'
Everyone laughed, but nobody laughed harder than Luna Lovegood. She let out a scream of mirth that caused Hedwig to wake up and flap her wings indignantly and Crookshanks to leap up into the luggage rack, hissing. Luna laughed so hard her magazine slipped out of her grasp, slid down her legs and on to the floor.
'That was funny!'
Harry looked around; he had expected this, but that did not make the sight
of Draco Malfoy smirking at him from between his cronies Crabbe and Goyle
any more enjoyable.
'What?' he said aggressively, before Malfoy could open
his mouth.
Sniggering, Malfoy gave Harry a last malicious look and departed, with Crabbe
and Goyle lumbering along in his wake. Hermione slammed the compartment
door behind them and turned to look at Harry, who knew at once that she,
like him, had registered what Malfoy had said and been just as unnerved
by it.
A short distance away, Draco Malfoy, followed by a small gang of cronies
including Crabbe, Goyle and Pansy Parkinson, was pushing some timid-looking
second-years out of the way so that he and his friends could get a coach
to themselves. Seconds later, Hermione emerged panting from the crowd.
'That was really unfair,' said Hermione consolingly, sitting down next to
Harry and helping herself to shepherd's pie. 'Your potion wasn't nearly
as bad as Goyle's; when he put it in his flagon the whole thing shattered
and set his robes on fire.'
The day had become cool and breezy, and as they walked down the sloping
lawn towards Hagrid's cabin on the edge of the Forbidden Forest, they felt
the occasional drop of rain on their faces. Professor Grubbly-Plank stood
waiting for the class some ten yards from Hagrid's front door, a long trestle
table in front of her laden with twigs. As Harry and Ron reached her, a
loud shout of laughter sounded behind them; turning, they saw Draco Malfoy
striding towards them, surrounded by his usual gang of Slytherin cronies.
He had clearly just said something highly amusing, because Crabbe, Goyle,
Pansy Parkinson and the rest continued to snigger heartily as they gathered
around the trestle table and, judging by the way they all kept looking over
at Harry, he was able to guess the subject of the joke without too much
difficulty.
Harry had gripped the Bowtruckle so hard that it had almost snapped, and
it had just taken a great retaliatory swipe at his hand with its sharp fingers,
leaving two long deep cuts there. Harry dropped it. Crabbe and Goyle, who
had already been guffawing at the idea of Hagrid being sacked, laughed still
harder as the Bowtruckle set off at full tilt towards the Forest, a little
moving stick-man soon swallowed up among the tree roots. When the bell echoed
distantly over the grounds, Harry rolled up his blood-stained Bowtruckle
picture and marched off to Herbology with his hand wrapped in Hermione's
handkerchief, and Malfoy's derisive laughter still ringing in his ears.
'What's that Weasley's riding?' Malfoy called in his sneering drawl. 'Why
would anyone put a flying charm on a mouldy old log like that?'
Crabbe, Goyle and Pansy Parkinson guffawed and shrieked with laughter. Ron mounted his broom and kicked off from the ground and Harry followed him, watching his ears turn red from behind.
'Quite correct,' said Professor Grubbly-Plank, hands behind her back and
bouncing on the balls of her feet. 'I am a substitute teacher standing in
for Professor Hagrid.'
Harry exchanged uneasy looks with Ron and Hermione. Malfoy
was whispering with Crabbe and Goyle; he would surely love this opportunity
to tell tales on Hagrid to a member of the Ministry.
'Well, you seem to know what you're doing, at any rate,' said Professor
Umbridge, making a very obvious tick on her clipboard. Harry did not like
the emphasis she put on 'you' and liked it even less when she put her next
question to Goyle. 'Now, I hear there have been injuries in this class?'
Goyle gave a stupid grin. Malfoy hastened to answer the question.
'You know what, I'm not sure I want someone this stupid teaching me,' Ron
said to Hermione, smirking slightly. He turned to Harry.
'Let's think,' he said, pulling a face like Goyle concentrating. 'Uh… first year - you saved the Philosopher's Stone from You-Know-Who.'
'I mean,' said Malfoy, raising his voice a little more, his grey eyes glittering
malevolently in Harry and Ron's direction, 'if it's a question of influence
with the Ministry, I don't think they've got much chance… from what
my father says, they've been looking for an excuse to sack Arthur Weasley
for years… and as for Potter… my father says it's a matter of
time before the Ministry has him carted off to St Mungo's… apparently
they've got a special ward for people whose brains have been addled by magic.'
Malfoy made a grotesque face, his mouth sagging open and his eyes rolling. Crabbe and Goyle gave their usual grunts of laughter; Pansy Parkinson shrieked with glee.
Something collided hard with Harry's shoulder, knocking him sideways. A split second later he realised that Neville had just charged past him, heading straight for Malfoy.
'Neville, no!'
Harry leapt forward and seized the back of Neville's robes; Neville struggled frantically, his fists flailing, trying desperately to get at Malfoy who looked, for a moment, extremely shocked.
'Help me!' Harry flung at Ron, managing to get an arm around Neville's neck and dragging him backwards, away from the Slytherins. Crabbe and Goyle were flexing their arms as they stepped in front of Malfoy, ready for the fight. Ron seized Neville's arms, and together he and Harry succeeded in dragging Neville back into the Gryffindor line. Neville's face was scarlet; the pressure Harry was exerting on his throat rendered him quite incomprehensible, but odd words spluttered from his mouth.
Harry let go of Neville, who stood panting and glaring at him.
'I had to stop you,' Harry gasped, picking up his bag. 'Crabbe and Goyle would've torn you apart.'
Neville said nothing; he merely snatched up his own bag and stalked off into the dungeon.
'OK, I've only just found out the final line-up for Slytherin,' said Angelina,
consulting a piece of parchment. 'Last year's Beaters, Derrick and Bole,
have left, but it looks as though Montague's replaced them with the usual
gorillas, rather than anyone who can fly particularly well. They're two
blokes called Crabbe and Goyle, I don't know much about them -'
'We do,' said Harry and Ron together.
'Well, they don't look bright enough to tell one end of a broom from the other,' said Angelina, pocketing her parchment, 'but then I was always surprised Derrick and Bole managed to find their way on to the pitch without signposts.'
'Crabbe and Goyle are in the same mould,' Harry assured her.
The Slytherin team was standing waiting for them. They, too, were wearing
those silver crown-shaped badges. The new Captain, Montague, was built along
the same lines as Dudley Dursley, with massive forearms like hairy hams.
Behind him lurked Crabbe and Goyle, almost as large, blinking stupidly in
the sunlight, swinging their new Beaters' bats. Malfoy stood to one side,
the sunlight gleaming on his white-blond head. He caught Harry's eye and
smirked, tapping the crown-shaped badge on his chest.
'- Pucey throws to Warrington, Warrington to Montague, Montague back to
Pucey -Johnson intervenes, Johnson takes the Quaffle, Johnson to Bell, this
looks good - I mean bad - Bells hit by a Bludger from Goyle of Slytherin
and it's Pucey in possession'
'What prefers the dark?' Harry heard Malfoy say sharply to Crabbe and Goyle,
a trace of panic in his voice. 'What did he say prefers the dark - did you
hear?'
Most of the rest of the class were wearing expressions as confused and nervously
expectant as Ron's and were still gazing everywhere but at the horse standing
feet from them. There were only two other people who seemed to be able to
see them: a stringy Slytherin boy standing just behind Goyle was watching
the horse eating with an expression of great distaste on his face; and Neville,
whose eyes were following the swishing progress of the long black tail.
'Yeah, Weasley, we were just wondering,' said a malicious voice. Unheard
by any of them in the muffling snow, Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle were walking
along right behind them. 'D'you reckon if you saw someone snuff it you'd
be able to see the Quaffle better?'
He, Crabbe and Goyle roared with laughter as they pushed past on their way to the castle, then broke into a chorus of 'Weasley is our King'. Ron's ears turned scarlet.
'Ignore them, just ignore them,' intoned Hermione, pulling out her wand and performing the charm to produce hot air again, so that she could melt them an easier path through the untouched snow between them and the greenhouses.
If anything more was needed to complete Harry's happiness, it was the reaction
he got from Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle. He saw them with their heads together
later that afternoon in the library; they were with a weedy-looking boy
Hermione whispered was called Theodore Nott. They looked round at Harry
as he browsed the shelves for the book he needed on Partial Vanishment:
Goyle cracked his knuckles threateningly and Malfoy whispered something
undoubtedly malevolent to Crabbe. Harry knew perfectly well why they were
acting like this: he had named all of their fathers as Death Eaters.
'And the best bit,' whispered Hermione gleefully, as they left the library, 'is they can't contradict you, because they can't admit they've read the article!'
'Now, do you really want to finish that sentence, Granger?'
Draco Malfoy had slid out from behind the door, closely followed by Crabbe and Goyle. His pale, pointed face was alight with malice.
'Afraid I'm going to have to dock a few points from Gryffindor and Hufflepuff,' he drawled.
'It's only teachers who can dock points from houses, Malfoy,' said Ernie at once.
'Yeah, we're prefects, too, remember?' snarled Ron.
'I know prefects can't dock points, Weasel King,' sneered Malfoy. Crabbe and Goyle sniggered. 'But members of the Inquisitorial Squad -'
'Wise move, Granger,' breathed Malfoy. 'New Head, new times… be good
now, Potty… Weasel King…'
Laughing heartily, he strode away with Crabbe and Goyle.
Meanwhile, Draco Malfoy had found a different way to induce panic.
'Of course, it's not what you know,' he was heard to tell Crabbe and Goyle loudly outside Potions a few days before the exams were to start, 'it's who you know. Now, Father's been friendly with the head of the Wizarding Examinations Authority for years - old Griselda Marchbanks - we've had her round for dinner and eveerything…'
Hermione's name was called. Trembling, she left the chamber with Anthony
Goldstein, Gregory Goyle and Daphne Greengrass. Students who had already
been tested did not return afterwards, so Harry and Ron had no idea how
Hermione had done.
Harry had just descended the last marble step into the Entrance Hall when
Malloy, Crabbe and Goyle emerged from a door on the right that Harry knew
led down to the Slytherin common room. Harry stopped dead; so did Malfoy
and the others. The only sounds were the shouts, laughter and splashes drifting
into the Hall from the grounds through the open front doors.
Malfoy glanced around - Harry knew he was checking for signs of teachers - then he looked back at Harry and said in a low voice, `You're dead, Potter.'
`Well, I'm terrified now,' said Harry sarcastically. `I's'pose Lord Voldemort's
just a warm-up act compared to you three - what's the matter?' he added,
for Malfoy Crabbe and Goyle had all looked stricken at the sound of the
name. `He's a mate of your dad, isn't he? Not scared of him, are you?T
'You think you're such a big man, Potter,' said Malfoy, advancing now, Crabbe and Goyle flanking him. `You wait. I'll have you. You can't land my father in prison
`Professor McGonagall!' said Snape, striding forwards. `Out of St Mungo's,
I see!'
`Yes, Professor Snape,' said Professor McGonagall, shrugging off her travelling cloak, `I'm quite as good as new. You two - Crabbe - Goyle =
She beckoned them forwards imperiously and they came, shuffling their large feet and looking awkward.
`Here,' said Professor McGonagall, thrusting her carpetbag into Crabbe's chest and her cloak into Goyle's; `take these up to my office for me.'
They turned and stumped away up the marble staircase.
The journey home on the Hogwarts Express next day was eventful in several
ways. Firstly Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle, who had clearly been waiting all
week for the opportunity to strike without teacher witnesses, attempted
to ambush Harry halfway down the train as he made his way back from the
toilet. The attack might have succeeded had it not been for the fact that
they unwittingly chose to stage the attack right outside a compartment full
of DA members, who saw what was happening through the glass and rose as
one to rush to Harry's aid. By the time Ernie Macmillan, Hannah Abbott,
Susan Bones, Justin Finch-Fletchley Anthony Goldstein and Terry Boot had
finished using a wide variety of the hexes and jinxes Harry had taught them,
Malfoy Crabbe and Goyle resembled nothing so much as three gigantic slugs
squeezed into Hogwarts uniform as Harry, Ernie and Justin hoisted them into
the luggage rack and left them there to ooze.
`I must say, I'm looking forward to seeing Malfoy's mother's face when he gets off the train,' said Ernie, with some satisfaction, as he watched Malloy squirm above him. Ernie had never quite got over the indignity of Malloy docking points from Hufflepuff during his brief spell as a member of the Inquisitorial Squad.
`Goyle's mum'll be really pleased, though,' said Ron, who had come to investigate the source of the commotion. `He's loads betterlooking now… anyway, Harry, the food trolley's just stopped if you want anything…'