Harry Potter 03 - Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban

Vernon’s old socks, which deadened the sound, then closed the lid of the trunk on it.
    ‘We could get it checked in Hogsmeade,’ said Ron, sitting back down. ‘They sell that sort of thing in Dervish and Banges, magical instruments and stuff, Fred and George told me.’
    ‘Do you know much about Hogsmeade?’ asked Hermione keenly. ‘I’ve read it’s the only entirely non-Muggle settlement in Britain –’
    ‘Yeah, I think it is,’ said Ron in an offhand sort of way, ‘but that’s not why I want to go. I just want to get inside Honeydukes!’
    ‘What’s that?’ said Hermione.
    ‘It’s this sweetshop,’ said Ron, a dreamy look coming over his face, ‘where they’ve got everything … Pepper Imps – they make you smoke at the mouth – and great fat Chocoballs full of strawberry mousse and clotted cream, and really excellent sugar quills which you can suck in class and just look like you’re thinking what to write next –’
    ‘But Hogsmeade’s a very interesting place, isn’t it?’ Hermione pressed on eagerly. ‘In Sites of Historical Sorcery it says the inn was the headquarters for the 1612 goblin rebellion, and the Shrieking Shack’s supposed to be the most severely haunted building in Britain –’
    ‘– and massive sherbet balls that make you levitate a few inches off the ground while you’re sucking them,’ said Ron, who was plainly not listening to a word Hermione was saying.
    Hermione looked around at Harry.
    ‘Won’t it be nice to get out of school for a bit and explore Hogsmeade?’
    ‘ ’Spect it will,’ said Harry heavily. ‘You’ll have to tell me when you’ve found out.’
    ‘What d’you mean?’ said Ron.
    ‘I can’t go. The Dursleys didn’t sign my permission form, and Fudge wouldn’t, either.’
    Ron looked horrified.
    ‘ You’re not allowed to come? But – no way – McGonagall or someone will give you permission –’
    Harry gave a hollow laugh. Professor McGonagall, Head of Gryffindor house, was very strict.
    ‘– or we can ask Fred and George, they know every secret passage out of the castle –’
    ‘Ron!’ said Hermione sharply. ‘I don’t think Harry should be sneaking out of school with Black on the loose –’
    ‘Yeah, I expect that’s what McGonagall will say when I ask for permission,’ said Harry bitterly.
    ‘But if we ’re with him,’ said Ron spiritedly to Hermione, ‘Black wouldn’t dare –’
    ‘Oh, Ron, don’t talk rubbish,’ snapped Hermione. ‘Black’s already murdered a whole bunch of people in the middle of a crowded street, do you really think he’s going to worry about attacking Harry just because we’re there?’
    She was fumbling with the straps of Crookshanks’s basket as she spoke.
    ‘Don’t let that thing out!’ Ron said, but too late; Crookshanks leapt lightly from the basket, stretched, yawned, and sprang onto Ron’s knees; the lump in Ron’s pocket trembled and he shoved Crookshanks angrily away.
    ‘Get out of it!’
    ‘Ron, don’t!’ said Hermione angrily.
    Ron was about to answer back when Professor Lupin stirred. They watched him apprehensively, but he simply turned his head the other way, mouth slightly open, and slept on.
    The Hogwarts Express moved steadily north and the scenery outside the window became wilder and darker while the clouds overhead thickened. People were chasing backwards and forwards past the door of their compartment. Crookshanks had now settled in an empty seat, his squashed face turned towards Ron, his yellow eyes on Ron’s top pocket.
    At one o’clock the plump witch with the food trolley arrived at the compartment door.
    ‘D’you think we should wake him up?’ Ron asked awkwardly, nodding towards Professor Lupin. ‘He looks like he could do with some food.’
    Hermione approached Professor Lupin cautiously.
    ‘Er – Professor?’ she said. ‘Excuse me – Professor?’
    He didn’t move.
    ‘Don’t worry, dear,’ said the witch, as she handed Harry a large stack of Cauldron Cakes. ‘If he’s hungry when he wakes, I’ll be up front with the driver.’
    ‘I suppose he is asleep?’ said Ron quietly, as the witch slid the compartment door closed. ‘I mean – he hasn’t died, has he?’
    ‘No, no, he’s breathing,’ whispered Hermione, taking the Cauldron Cake Harry passed her.
    He might not be very good company, but Professor Lupin’s presence in their compartment had its uses. Mid-afternoon, just as it had started to rain, blurring the