in the D.A.? He kept on and on asking about what happened at the Ministry and in the end he annoyed me so much I hexed him—when Slughorn came in I thought I was going to got detention, but he just thought it was a really good hex and invited me to lunch! Mad, eh?” “Better reason for inviting someone than because their mother's famous,” said Harry, scowling at the back of Zabini's head, “or because their uncle... ” But he broke off. An idea had just occurred to him, a reckless but potentially wonderful idea... In a minute's time, Zabini was going to re-enter the Slytherin sixth-year compartment and Malfoy would be sitting there, thinking himself unheard by anybody except fellow Slytherins... If Harry could only enter,
louis vuitton handbags outlet, unseen, behind him, what might he not see or hear? True, there was little of the journey left—Hogsmeade Station had to be less than half an hour away, judging by the wildness of the scenery flashing by the windows—but nobody else seemed prepared to take Harry's suspicions seriously, so it was down to him to prove them. “I'll see you two later,” said Harry under his breath, pulling out his Invisibility Cloak and flinging it over himself. “But what're you—?” asked Neville. “Later!” whispered Harry, darting after Zabini as quietly as possible, though the rattling of the train made such caution almost pointless. The corridors were almost completely empty now. Nearly everyone had returned to their carriages to change into their school robes and pack up their possessions. Though he was as close as he could get to Zabini without touching him, Harry was not quick enough to slip into the compartment when Zabini opened the door. Zabini was already sliding it shut when Harry hastily stuck out his foot to prevent it closing. “What's wrong with this thing?” said Zabini angrily as he smashed the sliding door repeatedly into Harry's foot. Harry seized the door and pushed it open, hard; Zabini, still clinging on to the handle, toppled over sideways into Gregory Goyle's lap, and in the ensuing ruckus, Harry darted into the compartment, leapt onto Zabini's temporarily empty seat, and hoisted himself up into the luggage rack. It was fortunate that Goyle and Zabini were snarling at each other, drawing all eyes onto them, for Harry was quite sure his feet and ankles had been revealed as the cloak had flapped around them; indeed, for one horrible moment he thought he saw Malfoy's eyes follow his trainer as it whipped upward out of sight. But then Goyle slammed the door shut and flung Zabini off him; Zabini collapsed into his own seat looking ruffled, Vincent Crabbe returned to his comic, and Malfoy, sniggering, lay back down across two seats with his head in Pansy Parkinson's lap. Harry lay curled uncomfortably under the cloak to ensure that every inch of him remained hidden, and watched Pansy stroke the sleek blond hair off Malfoy's forehead, smirking as she did so, as though anyone would have loved to have been in her place. The lanterns swinging from the carriage ceiling cast a bright light over the scene: Harry could read every word of Crabbe's comic directly below him. “So, Zabini,
cheap louis vuitton handbags,” said Malfoy, “what did Slughorn want?” “Just trying to make up to well-connected people,” said Zabini, who was still glowering at Goyle. “Not that he managed to find many.” This information did not seem to please Malfoy. “Who else had he invited?” he demanded. “McLaggen from Gryffindor,” said Zabini. “Oh yeah, his uncle's big in the Ministry,” said Malfoy. “—someone else called Belby, from Ravenclaw—” “Not him, he's a prat!” said Pansy. “—and Longbottom, Potter, and that Weasley girl,” finished Zabini. Malfoy sat up very suddenly, knocking Pansy's hand aside. “He invited Longbottom?” “Well, I assume so, as Longbottom was there,” said Zabini indifferently. “What's Longbottom got to interest Slughorn?” Zabini shrugged. “Potter, precious Potter, obviously he wanted a look at the Chosen One,” sneered Malfoy, “but that Weasley girl! What's so special about her?” “A lot of boys like
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