When class ended, Snape was actually going to poison Neville's toad.
Neville stood grimly beside his cauldron, while Snape had already strolled over to him.
"Everyone, come closer," Snape's eyes gleamed, "to see what happens to Longbottom's toad.
If he makes a shrinking potion, his toad will shrink into a tadpole; if he makes a mistake—I have no doubt about that—the toad will die of poisoning." The
Gryffindor students watched in fear, the Slytherin students in excitement.
Snape held the toad, Raphthong, in his left hand and placed a small spoon into Neville's potion, which was now green.
He poured a few drops down Raphthong's throat.
After a moment of silence, Raphthong gasped for breath, then with a soft "pop," the tadpole Raphthong wriggled in Snape's palm.
The Gryffindor students applauded.
Snape, looking annoyed, pulled a small bottle from his robe pocket and poured a few drops on Ralph. Ralph suddenly reappeared, now a fully grown toad.
"Five points deducted from Gryffindor."
These words wiped the smiles from everyone's faces.
"I told you not to help him, Miss Granger, class dismissed!"
At lunchtime, Ron told Damon everything without embellishment.
"So he kicked me out to show off—how childish."
Damon chuckled, glancing sideways at Snape at the classroom table—Snape sensed something, and upon meeting Damon's gaze, slightly uncomfortably twisted his collar.
"Let me tell you, Hermione's acting really strange! Just now, when we were going downstairs, she was behind me one minute, and the next she was at the top of the stairs. I saw at least twelve big, heavy books in her bag—what's she doing carrying so many books?"
"Talking behind my back?"
"Whoa!"
Ron screamed, startled by Hermione's sudden appearance—even though he had confirmed Hermione wasn't there before saying that.
Hermione rolled her eyes at Ron, saying irritably,
"You have no idea how many classes I have. Instead of saying this, why don't you help me get a book to my Defense Against the Dark Arts class this afternoon?"
Her tone was somewhat hurried, suggesting that running with the heavy backpack wasn't easy for her.
"Hermione, I have to remind you again, you're a witch."
Damon reached out and lifted Hermione's backpack—it suddenly felt lighter, along with the books inside.
"You're right. I'm really overwhelmed. Thank you so much, Damon!"
"That's not the point, buddy. Don't you think she's hiding something from us?" Ron watched Hermione eat rapidly, seemingly starving, and whispered in Damon's ear, "Hermione has never eaten like this before—she looks ravenous."
Damon glanced at Ron, said nothing, and continued eating.
His subtle attitude puzzled Ron, who became silent for the rest of the meal—he felt there must be something he hadn't considered.
Professor Lupin's first Defense Against the Dark Arts class began.
He was as ragged as when he arrived, a gentle smile on his face, as he placed his tattered suitcase on the lectern.
Fortunately, his face wasn't as pale—perhaps because he had eaten several solid meals at Hogwarts.
"Good afternoon," he said. "Please put your books back in your bags. Today is a practical lesson; you only need your wands."
This single sentence elicited gasps of astonishment from the students—these poor children had spent their entire first year in a classroom reeking of garlic, listening to a stuttering Quirrell read what sounded like a fairy tale, without learning a single thing about Defense Against the Dark Arts.
After Lockhart's second-year experience with the cage of Cornish elves, Lockhart hadn't let them touch wands again.
In other words, this was only the second time they'd used wands for Defense Against the Dark Arts.
"So, please follow me,"
Lupin said, leading the students out of the classroom and down the deserted corridor.
The first thing they encountered was Peeves—floating headfirst in mid-air, stuffing chewing gum into the nearest keyhole.
Professor Lupin didn't look up until he was two feet away from Peeves, then, wiggling his curled toes, he began to sing.
"Silly Lupin," Peeves sang, "Silly Lupin, silly Lupin—"
Peeves, usually rude and difficult to manage, but generally showing some respect for teachers, now displayed this attitude towards Lupin.
"If I were you, Peeves, I'd take the gum out of the keyhole," Lupin said cheerfully. "Mr. Filch won't be able to get in to get the broom."
"Silly Lupin wants to tell Peeves to stop causing trouble? He's an adventurous fellow himself."
Peeves dismissed Professor Lupin's words, even blowing a big bubble with his new gum—but amidst the play, he kept his eyes fixed on Damon standing among the students.
If Damon made any move, Peeves would immediately run away.
Lupin wasn't angry; he simply sighed and shook his head.
"It's a useful little spell," he said, turning to the class. "Watch closely."
He raised his wand to shoulder height and pointed it at Peeves.
"Vadishu!"
*Whoosh!*
The chewing gum in the keyhole shot out like a bullet, landing squarely in Peeves' left nostril!
"Damn Lupin! I'm not playing with you anymore!"
Peeves immediately turned and swung away, cursing all the way.
"Woo~~~"
The students cheered and clapped, their respect for the ragged Lupin growing stronger—they'd been bullied by Peeves plenty, some even crying in their first year.
Lupin led the students onward into the teachers' lounge on the first floor.
The teachers' lounge was a long space filled with mismatched old chairs, and a teacher was currently there.
Professor Snape sat in a low armchair, his eyes gleaming and a mocking smile playing on his lips as the students entered.
After Professor Lupin entered and closed the door behind him, Snape said,
"Don't close it, Lupin. I'd better not look." He stood up and paced past the class, his black robes billowing behind him.
Reaching the porch, he turned and said,
"Lupin, perhaps no one warned you, but with Neville Longbottom in this class, I advise you not to ask him to do anything difficult unless Miss Granger whispers instructions in his ear."
He seemed still bothered by what had happened during the day.
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(End of Chapter)