Percy Jackson and the Locket of Salazar [Book 6]

16) SICK BURN, BRO, HE'S GONNA NEED CREAM FOR THAT

Most of the class cheated and muttered the incantations beneath their breath. After the first few times of people getting caught by Snape, they realized that they weren't going to be able to pull one over Snape.

Draco was able to get the non-verbal spell almost immediately. He'd practiced it before, of course. He looked more thoughtful than I expected as he went against Blaise, eyes flirting to me for a moment with something dark in his gray eyes. He shook his head, continuing on with his work. Snape awarded him twenty points. When Hermione got it down twenty minutes later, an impressive feat as she'd never practiced before, he didn't so much as acknowledge it.

I was having a bit of trouble getting my shield up in time, because Hermione was better at causing me harm than she had any right to be. About half an hour in, I succeeded, though I kept getting distracted. I never said a word, but my thoughts sure did backflips trying to figure out what Hermione was going to throw at me.

Ron, who was aiming his wand at Harry from beside us, had gone rather purple in the face, forcing his mouth shut in order to not accidentally blurt out his spell. Unfortunately, he was not launching any jinx at all, leaving Harry to sit there awkwardly and stare.

"Pathetic, Weasley," Snape spat, hardly caring that Ron was doing just as well as most of the class. "Here — let me show you —"

He turned his wand on Harry and my friend reacted instinctively. "Protego!"

His Shield Charm was so strong Snape got knocked off balance, the room falling silent as he stumbled into a desk. Snape glowered, and I decided laughing was not in my best interests. "Do you remember me telling you we are practicing non-verbal spells, Potter?"

"Yes," Harry huffed.

"Yes sir." Snape corrected.

"There's no need to call me sir, professor."

Laughing was maybe not in my best interests, but I couldn't help it. I choked on my spit then burst into laughter, the look on Snape's face enough to bring tears to my eyes.

"Detention, Saturday night, my office," Snape hissed. "I do not take cheek from anyone, Potter... not even the Chosen One."

"That was brilliant, Harry!" Ron cheered once we were safely out of the classroom.

"You really shouldn't have said it," Hermione said, frowning at me as I kept laughing, my face red with my struggle to get myself under control. "What made you?"

"He tried to jinx me, in case you didn't notice!" Harry was red in the face, too, though not because his good pal roasted the bitchiest professor in the castle. "I had enough of that during those Occulmency lessons! Why doesn't he use another guinea pig for a change? What's Dumbledore playing at, anyway, letting him teach Defense? Did you hear him talking about the Dark Arts? He loves them! All that unfixed, indestructible stuff —"

"Well," Hermione said quietly, "I thought he sounded a bit like you."

"Like me?" Harry was too startled to be angry.

"Yes, when you were telling us what it's like to face Voldemort. You said it wasn't just memorizing a bunch of spells, you said it was just you and your brains and your guts — well, wasn't that what Snape was saying? That it really comes down to being brave and quick-thinking?"

Before Harry could respond, a Gryffindor kid ran up to us, calling, "Harry! Hey, Harry!" It was Jack Sloper, a Beater from the previous year. He held out a piece of parchment. "For you. Listen, I heard you're the new Captain. When're you holding trials?"

"I'm not sure yet," Harry said tiredly. "I'll let you know."

"Oh, right. I was hoping it'd be this weekend —"