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"Thanks," said Harry, feeling his now clean face. "How's my nose looking?
"There was no need to bring up the tray, I was just about to do it myself!"
-=-"Mollywobbles," whispered a mortified Mrs. Weasley into the crack at the edge of the door.
She flapped her hands at thin air, as though beating off large invisible moths. Harry and Neville caught each other's eyes and hastily began to talk of Quidditch.
"Look," said Ron delightedly, gazing ar his schedule, "we've got a free period now. . . and a free period after break . . . and after lunch . . . excellent."
Chapter 8: Victorious Snape
"Big surprise," whispered Ron.
"Oh yeah, he's really come on," said Hagrid proudly. "Yeh'll be amazed. I'm thinkin' o' trainin' him up as me assistant."
"Dunno," said Harry, but his mind was racing. Didn't this look as though Malfoy had more important things on his mind than bullying younger students?
With the usual deafening scraping noise, the benches moved back and the hundreds of students began to file out of the Great Hall toward their dormitories. Harry, who was in no hurry at all to leave with the gawping crowd, nor to get near enough to Malfoy to allow him to retell the story of the nose-stamping, lagged behind, pretending to retie the lace on his trainer, allowing most of Gryffindors to draw ahead of him. Hermione had darted ahead to fulfill her prefect's duty of shepherding the first years, but Ron remained with Harry.
He could see Mrs. Weasley and the grim-faced Auror casting the pair of them suspicious looks as they moved away.
"Here you are, then," said the driver, a surprisingly short while later, speaking for the first time as he slowed in Charing Cross Road and stopped outside the Leaky Cauldron. "I'm to wait for you, any idea how long you'll be?"
"Is this necklace for sale?" she asked, pausing beside a glass-fronted case.
“That's nor saying much, seeing as you're already dead," Ron observed.
He pulled it out and showed it to Harry.