It Rains

Harry Potter

Some hands took him by the shoulders and shook him vigorously. Harry managed to fix his eyes on the worried face in front of him. Snape's assistant moved her lips slowly, asking something, but he was unable to answer. In his head there was only that terrible image of Remus Lupin, his most beloved teacher, looking at him with eyes that were not his, its fearsome howl still reverberated in his eardrums.

The woman sat him down on the floor, then made him gulp down an entire bottle of a sugary potion that immediately sharpened his senses, but with them came pain. A searing pain that shot through his ribs every time he breathed.

"Harry, Harry! Can you hear us? Are you okay?"

It was Tonks, her voice felt to be coming from hundreds of miles away despite her being kneeling right next to him.

"I'm fine". — Harry mumbled, pressing a hand to his chest, trying to breathe slower.

"Please tell me he hasn't managed to bite you". — Tonks said as she searched for any blood stains on his clothes.

"No, no". —The boy replied. — "It was just the blow".

"It was you... The ghost from before". — Laurel muttered, and then, raising her eyebrows in surprise, she noticed the silvery garment Tonks had left on the floor. — "The invisibility cloak. Where did you get it?"

"It's mine. I... I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you".

"Scare her?" — Tonks groaned, standing up. — "Harry, you almost end up being attacked by a werewolf. Lupin could have killed you!"

"What... what happened to Lupin? What are you doing to him?

But before the women could reply, Snape's low, venomous voice lashed out at him like a whiplash, reminding him that he had just gotten himself into a huge mess.

"Potter..."

Snape walked slowly, his robes billowing behind him. The wizard stopped in front of the boy. His black eyes loomed over him like a threatening storm cloud. Contempt distilled through each of the syllables when speaking:

"Welcome, Mr. Potter. I see you have decided to join us on this fine afternoon. Are you enjoying the show?"

"Sir... I".

"Tell me, Mr. Potter, are we being entertaining enough for your exquisite tastes? Do we deserve your approval?"

"Professor..."

"Oh! I know, this is just a little adventure for the Chosen One, am I right? Sneaking behind his idiotic teacher, spying and meddling in utterly important and delicate investigative work. Putting not only his life at risk but also that of the stupid adults who must rescue him". —Snape kneel on one knee, bringing his pale face close to Harry's and hissed under his breath:

"You nearly turned Lupin into a murderer... Mr. Potter." — Snape tilted his head back, and a sneer curved his lips. — "Yes... I think that eighty points from Gryffindor will be enough for the moment... and no more weekends, nor trips to Hogsmeade for the rest of the year. And I'm afraid you'll have to say goodbye to Quidditch too. Minerva will be furious..."

"No, you can't... The Quidditch Cup..." — Harry babbled desperately.

"Don't you dare tell me what I can or cannot do, Potter!" — Snape snapped. — "Is all you care about, isn't it? Your precious Quidditch! But of course, being the son of James Potter, one may understand that in that big head of yours there is no room for anything but the frivolous compliments of your peers".