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¡°How's she doing it?¡± Ron muttered to Harry one evening as Harry sat finishing a nasty essay on Undetectable Poisons for Snape. Harry looked up. Hermione was barely visible behind a tottering pile of books.

Crabbe blundered forward, his long arms outstretched like a zombie. Harry dodged around him, picked up a stick, and lobbed it at Crabbe's back. Harry doubled up with silent laughter as Crabbe did a kind of pirouette in midair, trying to see who had thrown it. As Ron was the only person Crabbe could see, it was Ron he started toward, but Harry stuck out his leg. Crabbe stumbled ¡ª and his huge, flat foot caught the hem of Harry's cloak. Harry felt a great tug, then the cloak slid off his face.

¡°Rosmerta, dear, I don't like them any more than you do,¡± said Fudge uncomfortably. ¡°Necessary precaution¡­ unfortunate, but there you are¡­I've just met some of them. They're in a fury against Dumbledore ¡ª he won't let them inside the castle grounds.¡±

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