CHAPTER ELEVEN
“Hello,” said Harry. “I’m looking for Justin Finch-Fletchley.”
The Hufflepuffs’ worst fears had clearly been confirmed. They
all looked fearfully at Ernie.
“What do you want with him?” said Ernie in a quavering voice.
“I wanted to tell him what really happened with that snake at
the Dueling Club,” said Harry.
Ernie bit his white lips and then, taking a deep breath, said, “We
were all there. We saw what happened.”
“Then you noticed that after I spoke to it, the snake backed
off?” said Harry.
“All I saw,” said Ernie stubbornly, though he was trembling as
he spoke, “was you speaking Parseltongue and chasing the snake
toward Justin.”
“I didn’t chase it at him!” Harry said, his voice shaking with
anger. “It didn’t even touch him!”
“It was a very near miss,” said Ernie. “And in case you’re getting
ideas,” he added hastily, “I might tell you that you can trace my
family back through nine generations of witches and warlocks and
my blood’s as pure as anyone’s, so —”
“I don’t care what sort of blood you’ve got!” said Harry fiercely.
“Why would I want to attack Muggle-borns?”
“I’ve heard you hate those Muggles you live with,” said Ernie
swiftly.
“It’s not possible to live with the Dursleys and not hate them,”
said Harry. “I’d like to see you try it.”
He turned on his heel and stormed out of the library, earning
himself a reproving glare from Madam Pince, who was polishing
the gilded cover of a large spellbook.
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