THE POLYJUICE POTION
about his new sweater from the Slytherin table. With a bit of luck,
Malfoy would be getting his comeuppance in a few hours’ time.
Harry and Ron had barely finished their third helpings of
Christmas pudding when Hermione ushered them out of the hall
to finalize their plans for the evening.
“We still need a bit of the people you’re changing into,” said
Hermione matter-of-factly, as though she were sending them to the
supermarket for laundry detergent. “And obviously, it’ll be best if
you can get something of Crabbe’s and Goyle’s; they’re Malfoy’s
best friends, he’ll tell them anything. And we also need to make
sure the real Crabbe and Goyle can’t burst in on us while we’re in-
terrogating him.
“I’ve got it all worked out,” she went on smoothly, ignoring
Harry’s and Ron’s stupefied faces. She held up two plump choco-
late cakes. “I’ve filled these with a simple Sleeping Draught. All you
have to do is make sure Crabbe and Goyle find them. You know
how greedy they are, they’re bound to eat them. Once they’re
asleep, pull out a few of their hairs and hide them in a broom
closet.”
Harry and Ron looked incredulously at each other.
“Hermione, I don’t think —”
“That could go seriously wrong —”
But Hermione had a steely glint in her eye not unlike the one
Professor McGonagall sometimes had.
“The potion will be useless without Crabbe’s and Goyle’s hair,”
she said sternly. “You do want to investigate Malfoy, don’t you?”
“Oh, all right, all right,” said Harry. “But what about you?
Whose hair are you ripping out?”
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