Harry Potter 03 - Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban

–’
    ‘Don’t mind Hermione, Lavender,’ said Ron loudly, ‘she doesn’t think other people’s pets matter very much.’
    Professor McGonagall opened the classroom door at that moment, which was perhaps lucky; Hermione and Ron were looking daggers at each other, and when they got into class, they seated themselves either side of Harry, and didn’t talk to each other all lesson.
    Harry still hadn’t decided what he was going to say to Professor McGonagall when the bell rang at the end of the lesson, but it was she who brought up the subject of Hogsmeade first.
    ‘One moment, please!’ she called, as the class made to leave. ‘As you’re all in my house, you should hand Hogsmeade permission forms to me before Hallowe’en. No form, no visiting the village, so don’t forget!’
    Neville put up his hand.
    ‘Please, Professor, I – I think I’ve lost –’
    ‘Your grandmother sent yours to me directly, Longbottom,’ said Professor McGonagall. ‘She seemed to think it was safer. Well, that’s all, you may leave.’
    ‘Ask her now,’ Ron hissed at Harry.
    ‘Oh, but –’ Hermione began.
    ‘Go for it, Harry,’ said Ron stubbornly.
    Harry waited for the rest of the class to disappear, then headed nervously for Professor McGonagall’s desk.
    ‘Yes, Potter?’
    Harry took a deep breath.
    ‘Professor, my aunt and uncle – er – forgot to sign my form,’ he said.
    Professor McGonagall looked over her square spectacles at him, but didn’t say anything.
    ‘So – er – d’you think it would be all right – I mean, will it be OK if I – if I go to Hogsmeade?’
    Professor McGonagall looked down and began shuffling papers on her desk.
    ‘I’m afraid not, Potter,’ she said. ‘You heard what I said. No form, no visiting the village. That’s the rule.’
    ‘But – Professor, my aunt and uncle – you know, they’re Muggles, they don’t really understand about – about Hogwarts forms and stuff,’ Harry said, while Ron egged him on with vigorous nods. ‘If you said I could go –’
    ‘But I don’t say so,’ said Professor McGonagall, standing up and piling her papers neatly into a drawer. ‘The form clearly states that the parent or guardian must give permission.’ She turned to look at him, with an odd expression on her face. Was it pity? ‘I’m sorry, Potter, but that’s my final word. You had better hurry, or you’ll be late for your next lesson.’
    *
    There was nothing to be done. Ron called Professor McGonagall a lot of names that greatly annoyed Hermione; Hermione assumed an ‘all for the best’ expression that made Ron even angrier, and Harry had to endure everyone in the class talking loudly and happily about what they were going to do first, once they got into Hogsmeade.
    ‘There’s always the feast,’ said Ron, in an effort to cheer Harry up. ‘You know, the Hallowe’en feast, in the evening.’
    ‘Yeah,’ said Harry, gloomily, ‘great.’
    The Hallowe’en feast was always good, but it would taste a lot better if he was coming to it after a day in Hogsmeade with everyone else. Nothing anyone said made him feel any better about being left behind. Dean Thomas, who was good with a quill, had offered to forge Uncle Vernon’s signature on the form, but as Harry had already told Professor McGonagall he hadn’t had it signed, that was no good. Ron half-heartedly suggested the Invisibility Cloak, but Hermione stamped on that one, reminding Ron what Dumbledore had told them about the Dementors being able to see through them. Percy had what were possibly the least helpful words of comfort.
    ‘They make a fuss about Hogsmeade, but I assure you, Harry, it’s not all it’s cracked up to be,’ he said seriously. ‘All right, the sweetshop’s rather good, but Zonko’s Joke Shop’s frankly dangerous, and yes, the Shrieking Shack’s always worth a visit, but really, Harry, apart from that, you’re not missing anything.’
    *
    On Hallowe’en morning, Harry awoke with the rest and went down to breakfast feeling thoroughly depressed, though doing his best to act normally.
    ‘We’ll bring you lots of sweets back from Honeydukes,’ said Hermione, looking desperately sorry for him.
    ‘Yeah, loads,’ said Ron. He and Hermione had finally forgotten their squabble about Crookshanks in the face of Harry’s disappointment.
    ‘Don’t worry about me,’ said Harry, in what he hoped was an offhand voice. ‘I’ll see you at the feast. Have a good time.’
    He