THROUGH THE TRAPDOOR
“Yes, but not to us,” said Ron in exasperation. “Neville, you
don’t know what you’re doing.”
He took a step forward and Neville dropped Trevor the toad,
who leapt out of sight.
“Go on then, try and hit me!” said Neville, raising his fists. “I’m
ready!”
Harry turned to Hermione.
“Do something,” he said desperately.
Hermione stepped forward.
“Neville,” she said, “I’m really, really sorry about this.”
She raised her wand.
“Petrificus Totalus!” she cried, pointing it at Neville.
Neville’s arms snapped to his sides. His legs sprang together. His
whole body rigid, he swayed where he stood and then fell flat on
his face, stiff as a board.
Hermione ran to turn him over. Neville’s jaws were jammed to-
gether so he couldn’t speak. Only his eyes were moving, looking at
them in horror.
“What’ve you done to him?” Harry whispered.
“It’s the full Body-Bind,” said Hermione miserably. “Oh,
Neville, I’m so sorry.”
“We had to, Neville, no time to explain,” said Harry.
“You’ll understand later, Neville,” said Ron as they stepped over
him and pulled on the Invisibility Cloak.
But leaving Neville lying motionless on the floor didn’t feel like
a very good omen. In their nervous state, every statue’s shadow
looked like Filch, every distant breath of wind sounded like Peeves
swooping down on them.
273