I think you will find that I in fact can. I'll also remind you that it is not up to you to tell me what I can and can't do," Snape told him.
Huffing, Harry folded his arms and slouched backwards in his seat, muttering under his breath about how stupid it was.
He instantly regretted it.
Snape reached out a hand, grasping the sleeve of his robes and pulling him onto his feet.
"Before you think about cheeking me again, perhaps you would like to join me in the infirmary, where you can see first hand the damage you have done to that child's face!" he suggested.
Harry pulled away. "Let go of me!"
Snape did, and for a moment he simply stood there, looking at Harry.
"You're not even sorry, are you?" he observed.
"Why should I be?" Harry retorted, straightening his robes.
"Because twelve year old boys should not be causing each other physical harm over a game of Quidditch," Snape pointed out.
Harry glared at him. "That's not–"
"–I understand that you have had a difficult few weeks, but that is not an excuse to go around hitting people," his guardian continued.
"I didn't hit him because I've had a difficult time!" he argued.
"No. You hit him to defend James Potter's honour, which is even more ridiculous. It should not matter to you what a Hufflepuff boy with no close ties to you thinks or says about your relatives, living or otherwise," Snape said. "You must learn to let these things –"