THE MAN
WITH TWO FACES
“Now, as I understand it, the House Cup here needs awarding,
and the points stand thus: In fourth place, Gryffindor, with three
hundred and twelve points; in third, Hufflepuff, with three hun-
dred and fifty-two; Ravenclaw has four hundred and twenty-six and
Slytherin, four hundred and seventy-two.”
A storm of cheering and stamping broke out from the Slytherin
table. Harry could see Draco Malfoy banging his goblet on the
table. It was a sickening sight.
“Yes, yes, well done, Slytherin,” said Dumbledore. “However, re-
cent events must be taken into account.”
The room went very still. The Slytherins’ smiles faded a little.
“Ahem,” said Dumbledore. “I have a few last-minute points to
dish out. Let me see. Yes . . .
“First — to Mr. Ronald Weasley . . .”
Ron went purple in the face; he looked like a radish with a bad
sunburn.
“. . . for the best-played game of chess Hogwarts has seen in
many years, I award Gryffindor House fifty points.”
Gryffindor cheers nearly raised the bewitched ceiling; the stars
overhead seemed to quiver. Percy could be heard telling the other
prefects, “My brother, you know! My youngest brother! Got past
McGonagall’s giant chess set!”
At last there was silence again.
“Second — to Miss Hermione Granger . . . for the use of cool
logic in the face of fire, I award Gryffindor House fifty points.”
Hermione buried her face in her arms; Harry strongly suspected
she had burst into tears. Gryffindors up and down the table were
beside themselves — they were a hundred points up.
305