Chapter 203
Chapter 203
Hagrid’s lesson was an enormous success, and almost everyone came away satisfied.
Bowtruckles might look rather peculiar, like matchsticks that had sprouted arms and legs, but at least they were far more endearing than the hippogriffs from the first lesson. They were not dangerous either.
Well, no. There was still some danger.
Some twenty Bowtruckles lived in those trees, and naturally they were not all good-tempered. Several young wizards left with scratches on their arms, chiefly because they had mischievously teased the creatures with insects.
Most were fairly amiable, however, and the great majority of students received one or more Wiggentree twigs.
The few who received nothing were nearly in tears. Fortunately, Hagrid could not bear to see them leave disappointed and compensated them himself.
All in all, everyone was happy.
The students who had not chosen Care of Magical Creatures were green with envy. They had laughed at the class for doing nothing but feeding Flobberworms and having no fun at all.
The more gleefully they had mocked before, the more bitterly they envied the class now.
Suer generously gave the twigs he had traded for to his dormmates. Wiggentree wood undoubtedly offered some protection from Dark creatures, but there was no chance it could drive away the Dementors at the gates. Was his own Patronus Charm not more useful than such an external aid?
The other young wizards did not see it that way. They could not cast the Patronus Charm, after all, and Wiggentree wood consequently became tremendously popular. Hagrid’s choice for the lesson had been inspired.
Why had Suer not given a twig to Hermione? Because her class would have the same lesson that afternoon, and barring an accident, she would certainly receive one of her own.
The afternoon brought Professor Snape’s usual Potions lesson. The Gryffindor and Slytherin third-years could hardly wait to attend Care of Magical Creatures afterwards.
Yes, even the young Slytherins. Hearing everyone boasting in the Great Hall at lunchtime had filled the little snakes with envy and longing. They too wanted to know whether they might receive a Wiggentree twig.
As for Potions, everyone found the lesson remarkably pleasant. Professor Snape appeared to be in an excellent mood, and not one student had to endure his venomous tongue.
In private, the students divided Professor Snape’s daily moods into four grades. The first was when he did not lash out at anyone for an entire lesson, even if a student made a mistake and ruined the potion ingredients. That unquestionably meant Professor Snape was in an excellent mood.
The second was when he occasionally lashed out but took no points. His mood was still reasonably good.
The third involved both abuse and lost points. This was the young wizards’ ordinary experience in Potions.
The fourth was when you made no mistakes and brewed your potion successfully, yet Snape deducted points precisely because it had succeeded, without offering any reason whatsoever. Neville Longbottom of Gryffindor, for example, not only lost points but also had to let Trevor risk testing the potion’s effects.
That meant Snape’s mood had become catastrophically foul. Even the little snakes of Slytherin had to keep their heads down and make themselves scarce.
Thanks to Snape’s failure to display his usual power that day, everyone successfully brewed a Shrinking Solution. In an unprecedented act of generosity, Snape awarded both Houses one point.
“What’s happened to Professor Snape today? He actually gave us a point.” After class, the young wizards chattered on the way to the Great Hall, all wearing the same flattered, incredulous expression.
“Maybe he’s found a girlfriend? My brother’s like that. Whenever he gets a girlfriend, he stops thumping me and stealing my sweets.” One young badger spoke with absolute conviction. “He must have found a girlfriend!”
“Maybe, but who would fancy Professor Snape?” another young badger immediately replied.
The two debated every possibility without noticing the enormous black shadow looming behind them–or the empty circle that had abruptly opened in the surrounding crowd.
“Excellent guess… Do continue.” Snape’s dark voice sounded behind the two young badgers.
Suer was at the very back and clearly watched his classmates’ faces change from excitement to pallor, then from pallor to terror…
If they wished to discuss someone, the least they could do was wait until that person was out of earshot. And speaking that loudly–did they want Snape to hear them or not?
Snape did not need to spray venom. His presence and his gaze alone were enough to make the young wizards’ legs shake. He fixed the two students with a brooding stare for a long while before speaking coldly.
“Such gifted storytellers. Why have you stopped? Gentlemen, I am eager to hear the next part.”
The young badgers trembled in silence. Snape stared at them a while longer, then gave a low, cold snort.
“For gossiping about a professor, I shall inform Professor Sprout that Hufflepuff is losing twenty points.”
Only after Snape’s billowing robes had vanished from sight did the two pitiful badgers collapse to the floor beneath everyone’s sympathetic gaze, the relief of disaster narrowly survived filling their eyes.
“We’re alive…”
…
Something was wrong with the atmosphere in the Great Hall. The Gryffindor and Slytherin third-years sat glumly in their seats. As Suer entered, he saw Malfoy at the distant Slytherin table, clothes and hair in disarray and head lowered over some unknown task.
Suer raised an eyebrow. “What happened?”
“Malfoy, of course.” Hermione gave a cold laugh. “He caused trouble in Hagrid’s class again.”
“No one’s defending him today. At least, the Slytherins aren’t,” Ron said with a gloating smile. “He managed to offend his entire House.”
“So what did he do?”
“Malfoy tried to take a Bowtruckle by force. That angered all the others. They refused to have anything to do with us, ignored Hagrid and attacked Malfoy together. If he hadn’t run so fast, he’d have suffered much worse than rumpled clothes, untidy hair and a few scratches on his arms.”
Harry gave a cold smile as he briefly recounted the afternoon’s events.
“You forgot the part where Malfoy almost got lost while he was running away,” Ron added. He pictured Malfoy’s dishevelled state when Hagrid dragged him back and could not help laughing. “If Hagrid hadn’t rescued him in time, he might have ended up as spider food.”
“You should’ve seen how ridiculous he looked–as though someone had stuffed his mouth with slugs. This time, not only does he owe Hagrid thanks for saving his life, he also has to find some way to placate his classmates. Nearly everyone thinks he got exactly what he deserved.”
Spiders? Suer’s eyes lit up. He had failed to pry the information out of Hagrid, yet Ron had unwittingly supplied it.
Near the place where they held the lesson, was it…? Understood. He would scout around at the weekend.
Even so, Suer was speechless at Malfoy’s behaviour. How could a spoiled child from such a distinguished family be so exceptionally talented at causing trouble?