Harry Potter 06 - Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince

‘Coffee? Pumpkin juice?’
    ‘Anything,’ said Ron glumly, taking a moody bite of toast.
    A few minutes later Hermione, who had become so tired of Ron’s recent unpleasant behaviour that she had not come down to breakfast with them, paused on her way up the table.
    ‘How are you both feeling?’ she asked tentatively, her eyes on the back of Ron’s head.
    ‘Fine,’ said Harry, who was concentrating on handing Ron a glass of pumpkin juice. ‘There you go, Ron. Drink up.’
    Ron had just raised the glass to his lips when Hermione spoke sharply.
    ‘Don’t drink that, Ron!’
    Both Harry and Ron looked up at her.
    ‘Why not?’ said Ron.
    Hermione was now staring at Harry as though she could not believe her eyes.
    ‘You just put something in that drink.’
    ‘Excuse me?’ said Harry.
    ‘You heard me. I saw you. You just tipped something into Ron’s drink. You’ve got the bottle in your hand right now!’
    ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about,’ said Harry, stowing the little bottle hastily in his pocket.
    ‘Ron, I warn you, don’t drink it!’ Hermione said again, alarmed, but Ron picked up the glass, drained it in one and said, ‘Stop bossing me around, Hermione.’
    She looked scandalised. Bending low so that only Harry could hear her she hissed, ‘You should be expelled for that. I’d never have believed it of you, Harry!’
    ‘Hark who’s talking,’ he whispered back. ‘Confunded anyone lately?’
    She stormed up the table away from them. Harry watched her go without regret. Hermione had never really understood what a serious business Quidditch was. He then looked round at Ron, who was smacking his lips.
    ‘Nearly time,’ said Harry blithely.
    The frosty grass crunched underfoot as they strode down to the stadium.
    ‘Pretty lucky the weather’s this good, eh?’ Harry asked Ron.
    ‘Yeah,’ said Ron, who was pale and sick-looking.
    Ginny and Demelza were already wearing their Quidditch robes and waiting in the changing room.
    ‘Conditions look ideal,’ said Ginny, ignoring Ron. ‘And guess what? That Slytherin Chaser Vaisey – he took a Bludger in the head yesterday during their practice, and he’s too sore to play! And even better than that – Malfoy’s gone off sick too!’
    ‘What?’ said Harry, wheeling round to stare at her. ‘He’s ill? What’s wrong with him?’
    ‘No idea, but it’s great for us,’ said Ginny brightly. ‘They’re playing Harper instead; he’s in my year and he’s an idiot.’
    Harry smiled vaguely back, but as he pulled on his scarlet robes his mind was far from Quidditch. Malfoy had once before claimed he could not play due to injury, but on that occasion he had made sure the whole match was rescheduled for a time that suited the Slytherins better. Why was he now happy to let a substitute go on? Was he really ill, or was he faking?
    ‘Fishy, isn’t it?’ he said in an undertone to Ron. ‘Malfoy not playing?’
    ‘Lucky, I call it,’ said Ron, looking slightly more animated. ‘And Vaisey off too, he’s their best goal-scorer, I didn’t fancy – hey!’ he said suddenly, freezing halfway through pulling on his Keeper’s gloves and staring at Harry.
    ‘What?’
    ‘I … you …’ Ron had dropped his voice; he looked both scared and excited. ‘My drink … my pumpkin juice … you didn’t …?’
    Harry raised his eyebrows, but said nothing except, ‘We’ll be starting in about five minutes, you’d better get your boots on.’
    They walked out on to the pitch to tumultuous roars and boos. One end of the stadium was solid red and gold; the other, a sea of green and silver. Many Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws had taken sides, too: amidst all the yelling and clapping Harry could distinctly hear the roar of Luna Lovegood’s famous lion-topped hat.
    Harry stepped up to Madam Hooch, the referee, who was standing ready to release the balls from the crate.
    ‘Captains, shake hands,’ she said, and Harry had his hand crushed by the new Slytherin Captain, Urquhart. ‘Mount your brooms. On the whistle … three … two … one …’
    The whistle sounded, Harry and the others kicked off hard from the frozen ground, and they were away.
    Harry soared around the perimeter of the grounds looking for the Snitch and keeping one eye on Harper, who was zigzagging far below him. Then a voice that was jarringly different from the usual commentator’s started up.
    ‘Well, there they go, and I think we’re all surprised to see the team