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Ron was very subdued all through the class. When the bell sounded at the end of the lesson, Lavender caught up with Ron and Harry (Hermione mysteriously melted out of sight as she ap-proached) and abused Snape hotly for his jibe about Ron's Appari-tion, but this seemed to merely irritate Ron, and he shook her off by making a detour into the boys' bathroom with Harry.
"Where are we burying him?" he asked. "The forest?"
"Yes, sir," said Harry quickly. "Voldemort killed his father and his grandparents and made it look as though his Uncle Morfin did it. Then he went back to Hogwarts and he asked ... he asked Professor Slughorn about Horcruxes," he mumbled shamefacedly.
"Thanks a lot, Hermione," said Harry, giving her a hasty pat on the back as he checked his watch and saw that it was nearly eight o'clock. "Listen, I’ve got to hurry or I'll be late for Dumbledore. ..."
'Romilda?' he repeated. 'Did you say Romilda? Harry - do you know her? Can you introduce me?'
"Late again, Potter," said Snape coldly, as Harry hurried into the candlelit classroom. "Ten points from Gryfrindor." Harry scowled at Snape as he flung himself into the seat beside Ron. Half the class were still on their feet, taking out books and orga-nizing their things; he could not be much later than any of them.
"Which job did he want, sir? What subject did he want to teach?"
There you are, then,' said Slughorn, handing Harry and Ron a glass of mead each, before raising his own. 'Well, a very happy birthday, Ralph -'
Silence fell between them. Harry stared up at the circle of lamp light above him, thinking. . . .
Hermione, I know you'd have liked him.
"There won't be any need for that," said Harry hastily.
"Master called me?" croaked Kreacher, sinking into a bow even as he gave Harry a look that plainly wished him a painful death.
The whole class looked around at Harry, who hastily tried to recall what Dumbledore had told him the night that they had gone to visit Slughorn. "Er — well — ghosts are transparent —" he said.
"What is this?" asked Hermione, still looking shocked by these sudden appearances. "What's going on, Harry?" Harry hesitated before answering, because he had not told Her-mione about setting Kreacher and Dobby to tail Malfoy; house-elves were always such a touchy subject with her.。
"Before we start, I want your dementor essays," said Snape, wav-ing his wand carelessly, so that twenty-five scrolls of parchment soared into the air and landed in a neat pile on his desk. "And I hope for your sakes they are better than the tripe I had to endure on resisting the Imperius Curse. Now, if you will all open your books to page — what is it, Mr. Finnigan?"。