'Yeh'll tolerate 'im as long as he's here, it's as much his Forest as yours!' he yelled, as Harry and Hermione both pushed with all their might against Hagrid's moleskin waistcoat in an effort to keep him moving forwards. Still scowling, he looked down; his expression changed to mild surprise at the sight of them both pushing him; he seemed not to have felt it.

'Calm down, you two,' he said, turning to walk on while they parted along behind him. 'Ruddy old mules, though, eh?'

'Hagrid,' said Hermione breathlessly, skirting the patch of nettles they had passed on their way there, 'if the centaurs don't want humans in the Forest, it doesn't really look as though Harry and I will be able — '

'Ah, you heard what they said,' said Hagrid dismissively, 'they wouldn't hurt foals — I mean, kids. Anyway, we can' let ourselves be pushed aroun' by that lot.'

'Nice try,' Harry murmured to Hermione, who looked crestfallen.

At last they rejoined the path and, after another ten minutes, the trees began to thin; they were able to see patches of clear blue sky again and, in the distance, the definite sounds of cheering and shouting.

'Was that another goal?' asked Hagrid, pausing in the shelter of the trees as the Quidditch stadium came into view. 'Or d'yeh reckon the match is over?'

'I don't know,' said Hermione miserably. Harry saw that she looked much the worse for wear; her hair was full of twigs and leaves, her robes were ripped in several places and there were numerous scratches on her face and arms. He knew he must look little better.

'I reckon it's over, yeh know!' said Hagrid, still squinting towards the stadium. 'Look — there's people comin' out already — if yeh two hurry yeh'll be able ter blend in with the crowd an' no one'll know yeh weren't there!'

'Good idea,' said Harry. 'Well . . . see you later, then, Hagrid.'

'I don't believe him,' said Hermione in a very unsteady voice, the moment they were out of earshot of Hagrid. 'I don't believe him. I really don't believe him.'

'Calm down,' said Harry.

'Calm down!' she said feverishly. 'A giant! A giant in the Forest! And we're supposed to give him English lessons! Always assuming, of course, we can get past the herd of murderous centaurs on the way in and out! I — don't — believe — him!'

'We haven't got to do anything yet!' Harry tried to reassure her in a quiet voice, as they joined a stream of jabbering Hufflepuffs heading back towards the castle. 'He's not asking us to do anything unless he gets chucked out and that might not even happen.'

'Oh, come off it, Harry!' said Hermione angrily, stopping dead in her tracks so that the people behind had to swerve to avoid her. 'Of course he's going to be chucked out and, to be perfectly honest, after what we've just seen, who can blame Umbridge?'

There was a pause in which Harry glared at her, and her eyes filled slowly with tears.

'You didn't mean that,' said Harry quietly.

'No . . . well . . . all right . . . I didn't,' she said, wiping her eyes angrily. 'But why does he have to make life so difficult for himself — for us?'

'I dunno — '

'Weasley is our King,

Weasley is our King,

He didn 't let the Quaffle in,

Weasley is our King . . . '

'And I wish they'd stop singing that stupid song,' said Hermione miserably, 'haven't they gloated enough?'

A great tide of students was moving up the sloping lawns from the pitch.

'Oh, let's get in before we have to meet the Slytherins,' said Hermione.

'Weasley can save anything,

He never leaves a single ring,

That 's why Gryffindors all sing:

Weasley is our King. '

'Hermione . . .' said Harry slowly.

The song was growing louder, but it was issuing not from a crowd of green-and-silver-clad Slytherins, but from a mass of red and gold moving slowly towards the castle, bearing a solitary figure upon its many shoulders.

'Weasley is our King,

Weasley is our King,

He didn't let the Quaffle in,

Weasley is our King . . . '

'No?' said Hermione in a hushed voice.

'YES!' said Harry loudly.

'HARRY! HERMIONE!' yelled Ron, waving the silver Quidditch cup in the air and looking quite beside himself. 'WE DID IT! WE WON!'

They beamed up at him as he passed. There was a scrum at the door of the castle and Ron's head got rather badly bumped on the lintel, but nobody seemed to want to put him down. Still singing, the crowd squeezed itself into the Entrance Hall and out of sight. Harry and Hermione watched them go, beaming, until the last echoing strains of 'Weasley is our King' died away. Then they turned to each other, their smiles fading.

'We'll save our news till tomorrow, shall we?' said Harry.

'Yes, all right,' said Hermione wearily. 'I'm not in any hurry.'

They climbed the steps together. At the front doors both instinctively looked back at the Forbidden Forest. Harry was not sure whether or not it was his imagination, but he rather thought he saw a small cloud of birds erupting into the air over the tree tops in the distance, almost as though the tree in which they had been nesting had just been pulled up by the roots.