CORNELIUS FUDGE
hopeful that they would never need to talk to him about why he
had been expelled. It was now nearly four months since Justin and
Nearly Headless Nick had been Petrified, and nearly everybody
seemed to think that the attacker, whoever it was, had retired for
good. Peeves had finally got bored of his “Oh, Potter, you rotter”
song, Ernie Macmillan asked Harry quite politely to pass a bucket
of leaping toadstools in Herbology one day, and in March several
of the Mandrakes threw a loud and raucous party in greenhouse
three. This made Professor Sprout very happy.
“The moment they start trying to move into each other’s pots,
we’ll know they’re fully mature,” she told Harry. “Then we’ll be
able to revive those poor people in the hospital wing.”
The second years were given something new to think about during
their Easter holidays. The time had come to choose their subjects
for the third year, a matter that Hermione, at least, took very seri-
ously.
“It could affect our whole future,” she told Harry and Ron as
they pored over lists of new subjects, marking them with checks.
“I just want to give up Potions,” said Harry.
“We can’t,” said Ron gloomily. “We keep all our old subjects, or
I’d’ve ditched Defense Against the Dark Arts.”
“But that’s very important!” said Hermione, shocked.
“Not the way Lockhart teaches it,” said Ron. “I haven’t learned
anything from him except not to set pixies loose.”
Neville Longbottom had been sent letters from all the witches
and wizards in his family, all giving him different advice on what to
choose. Confused and worried, he sat reading the subject lists with
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