The snow still hadn't melted the next morning.

“Want to play chess, Harry?” said Ron.

“No.”

“Why don't we go down and visit Hagrid?”

“No… you go…”

“I know what you're thinking about, Harry, that mirror. Don't go back tonight.”

“Why not?”

“I dunno, I've just got a bad feeling about it — and anyway, you've had too many close shaves already. Filch, Snape, and Mrs. Norris are wandering around. So what if they can't see you? What if they walk into you? What if you knock something over?”

“You sound like Hermione.”

“I'm serious, Harry, don't go.”

But Harry only had one thought in his head, which was to get back in front of the mirror, and Ron wasn't going to stop him.