The Girl Who Hid | ✓

|43| Split Feather

"You act as if it hasn't been hard for me, too!" I snapped. "I got the charm just fine. Forget all of them."

Harry shook his head dismissively and walked down the stairs with Hermione and me in tow.

"Still — never mind, eh? Double Potions to look forward to this afternoon."

Double Potions was always a horrible experience, but these days it was nothing short of torture. Being shut in a dungeon for an hour and a half with Snape and the Slytherins, all of whom seemed determined to punish Harry and me as much as possible for daring to become school champion, was about the most unpleasant thing I could imagine.

When Harry, Hermione, and I arrived at Snape's dungeon after lunch, we found the Slytherins waiting outside, each and every one of them wearing a large badge on the front of his or her robes. For one wild moment I thought they were S.P.E.W. badges — then I saw that they all bore the same message, in luminous red letters that burnt brightly in the dimly lit underground passage:

Support CEDRIC DIGGORY—

The REAL Hogwarts Champion!

"Like them?" said Malfoy loudly as we approached. "And this isn't all they do — look!"

He pressed his badge into his chest, and the message upon it vanished, to be replaced by another one, which glowed green:

POTTER TWINS STINK

The Slytherins howled with laughter. Each of them pressed their badges too, until the message POTTER TWINS STINK was shining brightly. I felt the heat rise in my face and neck.

"Oh very funny," I said sarcastically to Pansy Parkinson and her gang of Slytherin girls, who were laughing harder than anyone, "real witty."

Ron was standing against the wall with Dean and Seamus. He wasn't laughing, but he wasn't sticking up for us either.

"Want one, Granger?" said Malfoy, holding out a badge to Hermione. "I've got loads. But don't touch my hand, now. I've just washed it, you see; don't want a Mudblood sliming it up."

I could practically see fumes coming out of Harry's ears as he reached for his wand. People all around them scrambled out of the way, backing down the corridor.

"Harry!" Hermione and I said warningly.

"Go on, then, Potter," Malfoy said quietly, drawing out his own wand. "Moody's not here to look after you now — do it, if you've got the guts —"

For a split second, they looked into each other's eyes, then, at exactly the same time, both acted.

"Furnunculus!" Harry yelled.

"Anteoculatia!" screamed Malfoy.

Jets of light shot from both wands, hit each other in midair, and ricocheted off at angles — Harry's hit Goyle in the face, and Malfoy's hit me.

Goyle bellowed and put his hands to his nose, where great ugly boils were springing up — I groaned as my back hit the hard dungeon floor.

"Maisey!"

Ron and Hermione came to my aid.

"It's fine, I just got whacked," I groan, rubbing my head.

The top of my head began to tingle at the spot I was rubbing. Just at my hairline, I felt little notches forming and growing. I let out a scream as the notches grew into antlers.

"And what is all this noise about?" said a soft, deadly voice.

Snape had arrived. The Slytherins clamored to give their explanations; Snape pointed a long yellow finger at Malfoy and said, "Explain."