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

clearly relishing the effect he had created as he pointed out of the blackened window. ‘We’d better get our robes on.’
    Harry was so busy staring at Malfoy he did not notice Goyle reaching up for his trunk; as he swung it down, it hit Harry hard on the side of the head. He let out an involuntary gasp of pain and Malfoy looked up at the luggage rack, frowning.
    Harry was not afraid of Malfoy, but he still did not much like the idea of being discovered hiding under his Invisibility Cloak by a group of unfriendly Slytherins. Eyes still watering and head still throbbing, he drew his wand, careful not to disarrange the Cloak, and waited, breath held. To his relief, Malfoy seemed to decide that he had imagined the noise; he pulled on his robes like the others, locked his trunk and, as the train slowed to a jerky crawl, fastened a thick new travelling cloak round his neck.
    Harry could see the corridors filling up again and hoped that Hermione and Ron would take his things out on to the platform for him; he was stuck where he was until the compartment had quite emptied. At last, with a final lurch, the train came to a complete halt. Goyle threw the door open and muscled his way out into a crowd of second-years, punching them aside; Crabbe and Zabini followed.
    ‘You go on,’ Malfoy told Pansy, who was waiting for him with her hand held out as though hoping he would hold it. ‘I just want to check something.’
    Pansy left. Now Harry and Malfoy were alone in the compartment. People were filing past, descending on to the dark platform. Malfoy moved over to the compartment door and let down the blinds, so that people in the corridor beyond could not peer in. He then bent down over his trunk and opened it again.
    Harry peered down over the edge of the luggage rack, his heart pumping a little faster. What had Malfoy wanted to hide from Pansy? Was he about to see the mysterious broken object it was so important to mend?
    ‘Petrificus Totalus!’
    Without warning, Malfoy pointed his wand at Harry, who was instantly paralysed. As though in slow motion, he toppled out of the luggage rack and fell, with an agonising, floor-shaking crash, at Malfoy’s feet, the Invisibility Cloak trapped beneath him, his whole body revealed with his legs still curled absurdly into the cramped kneeling position. He couldn’t move a muscle; he could only gaze up at Malfoy, who smiled broadly.
    ‘I thought so,’ he said jubilantly. ‘I heard Goyle’s trunk hit you. And I thought I saw something white flash through the air after Zabini came back …’ His eyes lingered for a moment upon Harry’s trainers. ‘That was you blocking the door when Zabini came back in, I suppose?’
    He considered Harry for a moment.
    ‘You didn’t hear anything I care about, Potter. But while I’ve got you here …’
    And he stamped, hard, on Harry’s face. Harry felt his nose break; blood spurted everywhere.
    ‘That’s from my father. Now, let’s see …’
    Malfoy dragged the Cloak out from under Harry’s immobilised body and threw it over him.
    ‘I don’t reckon they’ll find you till the train’s back in London,’ he said quietly. ‘See you around, Potter … or not.’
    And taking care to tread on Harry’s fingers, Malfoy left the compartment.

 
     
— CHAPTER EIGHT —
     
Snape Victorious
    Harry could not move a muscle. He lay there beneath the Invisibility Cloak feeling the blood from his nose flow, hot and wet, over his face, listening to the voices and footsteps in the corridor beyond. His immediate thought was that someone, surely, would check the compartments before the train departed again? But at once came the dispiriting realisation that even if somebody looked into the compartment, he would be neither seen nor heard. His best hope was that somebody else would walk in and step on him.
    Harry had never hated Malfoy more than as he lay there, like an absurd turtle on its back, blood dripping sickeningly into his open mouth. What a stupid situation to have landed himself in … and now the last few footsteps were dying away; everyone was shuffling along the dark platform outside; he could hear the scraping of trunks and the loud babble of talk.
    Ron and Hermione would think that he had left the train without them. Once they arrived at Hogwarts and took their places in the Great Hall, looked up and down the Gryffindor table a few times and finally realised that he was not there, he, no doubt, would be halfway back to London.
    He