ARAGOG
had. Maybe we’ll get a decent headmaster now. Someone who
won’t want the Chamber of Secrets closed. McGonagall won’t last
long, she’s only filling in. . . .”
Snape swept past Harry, making no comment about Hermione’s
empty seat and cauldron.
“Sir,” said Malfoy loudly. “Sir, why don’t you apply for the head-
master’s job?”
“Now, now, Malfoy,” said Snape, though he couldn’t suppress a
thin-lipped smile. “Professor Dumbledore has only been suspended
by the governors. I daresay he’ll be back with us soon enough.”
“Yeah, right,” said Malfoy, smirking. “I expect you’d have Fa-
ther’s vote, sir, if you wanted to apply for the job — I’ll tell Father
you’re the best teacher here, sir —”
Snape smirked as he swept off around the dungeon, fortunately
not spotting Seamus Finnigan, who was pretending to vomit into
his cauldron.
“I’m quite surprised the Mudbloods haven’t all packed their bags
by now,” Malfoy went on. “Bet you five Galleons the next one dies.
Pity it wasn’t Granger —”
The bell rang at that moment, which was lucky; at Malfoy’s last
words, Ron had leapt off his stool, and in the scramble to collect
bags and books, his attempts to reach Malfoy went unnoticed.
“Let me at him,” Ron growled as Harry and Dean hung onto his
arms. “I don’t care, I don’t need my wand, I’m going to kill him
with my bare hands —”
“Hurry up, I’ve got to take you all to Herbology,” barked Snape
over the class’s heads, and off they marched, with Harry, Ron, and
Dean bringing up the rear, Ron still trying to get loose. It was only
267