CHAPTER ELEVEN
made a cup of strong tea back in Hagrid’s hut, with Ron and
Hermione.
“It was Snape,” Ron was explaining, “Hermione and I saw him.
He was cursing your broomstick, muttering, he wouldn’t take his
eyes off you.”
“Rubbish,” said Hagrid, who hadn’t heard a word of what had
gone on next to him in the stands. “Why would Snape do some-
thin’ like that?”
Harry, Ron, and Hermione looked at one another, wondering
what to tell him. Harry decided on the truth.
“I found out something about him,” he told Hagrid. “He tried
to get past that three-headed dog on Halloween. It bit him. We
think he was trying to steal whatever it’s guarding.”
Hagrid dropped the teapot.
“How do you know about Fluffy?” he said.
“Fluffy?”
“Yeah — he’s mine — bought him off a Greek chappie I met in
the pub las’ year — I lent him to Dumbledore to guard the —”
“Yes?” said Harry eagerly.
“Now, don’t ask me anymore,” said Hagrid gruffly. “That’s top
secret, that is.”
“But Snape’s trying to steal it.”
“Rubbish,” said Hagrid again. “Snape’s a Hogwarts teacher, he’d
do nothin’ of the sort.”
“So why did he just try and kill Harry?” cried Hermione.
The afternoon’s events certainly seemed to have changed her
mind about Snape.
“I know a jinx when I see one, Hagrid, I’ve read all about them!
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