CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Harry roughly shook him awake. In a matter of seconds, though,
he was wide-eyed as Harry began to tell him and Hermione what
had happened in the forest.
Harry couldn’t sit down. He paced up and down in front of the
fire. He was still shaking.
“Snape wants the Stone for Voldemort . . . and Voldemort’s wait-
ing in the forest . . . and all this time we thought Snape just wanted
to get rich. . . .”
“Stop saying the name!” said Ron in a terrified whisper, as if he
thought Voldemort could hear them.
Harry wasn’t listening.
“Firenze saved me, but he shouldn’t have done so. . . . Bane was
furious . . . he was talking about interfering with what the planets
say is going to happen. . . . They must show that Voldemort’s com-
ing back. . . . Bane thinks Firenze should have let Voldemort kill
me. . . . I suppose that’s written in the stars as well.”
“Will you stop saying the name!” Ron hissed.
“So all I’ve got to wait for now is Snape to steal the Stone,”
Harry went on feverishly, “then Voldemort will be able to come
and finish me off. . . . Well, I suppose Bane’ll be happy.”
Hermione looked very frightened, but she had a word of com-
fort.
“Harry, everyone says Dumbledore’s the only one You-Know-
Who was ever afraid of. With Dumbledore around, You-Know-
Who won’t touch you. Anyway, who says the centaurs are right? It
sounds like fortune-telling to me, and Professor McGonagall says
that’s a very imprecise branch of magic.”
The sky had turned light before they stopped talking. They went
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