CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
“I d-didn’t know,” sobbed Ginny. “I found it inside one of the
books Mum got me. I th-thought someone had just left it in there
and forgotten about it —”
“Miss Weasley should go up to the hospital wing right away,”
Dumbledore interrupted in a firm voice. “This has been a terrible
ordeal for her. There will be no punishment. Older and wiser wiz-
ards than she have been hoodwinked by Lord Voldemort.” He
strode over to the door and opened it. “Bed rest and perhaps a large,
steaming mug of hot chocolate. I always find that cheers me up,”
he added, twinkling kindly down at her. “You will find that Madam
Pomfrey is still awake. She’s just giving out Mandrake juice — I
daresay the basilisk’s victims will be waking up any moment.”
“So Hermione’s okay!” said Ron brightly.
“There has been no lasting harm done, Ginny,” said Dumble-
dore.
Mrs. Weasley led Ginny out, and Mr. Weasley followed, still
looking deeply shaken.
“You know, Minerva,” Professor Dumbledore said thoughtfully
to Professor McGonagall, “I think all this merits a good feast.
Might I ask you to go and alert the kitchens?”
“Right,” said Professor McGonagall crisply, also moving to the
door. “I’ll leave you to deal with Potter and Weasley, shall I?”
“Certainly,” said Dumbledore.
She left, and Harry and Ron gazed uncertainly at Dumbledore.
What exactly had Professor McGonagall meant, deal with them?
Surely — surely — they weren’t about to be punished?
“I seem to remember telling you both that I would have to expel
you if you broke any more school rules,” said Dumbledore.
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