THROUGH THE TRAPDOOR
like this, people will think you’re up to something. And Gryffindor
really can’t afford to lose any more points, can it?”
Harry flushed. They turned to go outside, but Snape called them
back.
“Be warned, Potter — any more nighttime wanderings and I will
personally make sure you are expelled. Good day to you.”
He strode off in the direction of the staffroom.
Out on the stone steps, Harry turned to the others.
“Right, here’s what we’ve got to do,” he whispered urgently. “One
of us has got to keep an eye on Snape — wait outside the staffroom
and follow him if he leaves it. Hermione, you’d better do that.”
“Why me?”
“Its obvious,” said Ron. “You can pretend to be waiting for
Professor Flitwick, you know.” He put on a high voice, “ ‘Oh Profes-
sor Flitwick, I’m so worried, I think I got question fourteen b
wrong. . . .’ ”
“Oh, shut up,” said Hermione, but she agreed to go and watch
out for Snape.
“And we’d better stay outside the third-floor corridor,” Harry
told Ron. “Come on.”
But that part of the plan didn’t work. No sooner had they
reached the door separating Fluffy from the rest of the school than
Professor McGonagall turned up again and this time, she lost her
temper.
“I suppose you think you’re harder to get past than a pack of en-
chantments!” she stormed. “Enough of this nonsense! If I hear
you’ve come anywhere near here again, I’ll take another fifty points
from Gryffindor! Yes, Weasley, from my own House!”
269