Trying | Hogwarts OC student

chapter 32

The following day dawned with a heavy grayness that matched Alistair's mood. The air seemed thick with tension as he made his way through the corridors of Hogwarts, his footsteps echoing off the stone walls. His mind was a tumultuous whirlwind of emotions, resentment towards Snape simmering just beneath the surface.

As he rounded a corner near the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom, he spotted Snape approaching from the opposite direction. The sight of the potions master ignited a spark of anger within Alistair. He clenched his fists, his jaw tightening as he prepared himself for another confrontation.

Snape's dark eyes locked onto Alistair's with an intensity that sent a chill down his spine. "Montrose," Snape's voice cut through the silence, sharp and commanding.

Alistair halted in his tracks, meeting Snape's gaze defiantly. "What now, Snape?" he retorted, his tone laced with bitterness.

"You know perfectly well what," Snape replied, his voice like ice. "Your insolence and disregard for the rules are becoming intolerable."

Alistair scoffed, his frustration mounting. "And what about your constant surveillance? Your relentless pursuit of every minor transgression?" he shot back, unable to contain his rising anger.

Snape's lip curled in a sneer. "You seem to forget your place, Montrose," he said coldly. "I am not your adversary. I am here to ensure discipline and order."

Alistair felt his temper flare. "Discipline and order?" he echoed mockingly. "More like control and oppression."

Snape's gaze hardened. "Watch your tongue, Montrose," he warned, his voice dropping dangerously low. "You are testing my patience."

"And you are testing mine," Alistair snapped, his voice rising. "Always watching, always judging. You have no idea what it's like."

Snape's eyes narrowed, a flicker of something unreadable crossing his face. "Perhaps it's time you learned some respect," he said icily.

Alistair shook his head, his fists trembling with anger. "Respect is earned, Snape," he retorted bitterly. "And you've done nothing to earn mine." With those words hanging in the air like a challenge, Alistair turned on his heel and stormed away, leaving Snape standing in the corridor, his expression inscrutable.

The day stretched on with Alistair's anger simmering just below the surface. Each class felt like an eternity as he struggled to focus on his studies, his mind replaying his heated exchange with Snape over and over again. The weight of resentment and frustration hung heavy on his shoulders, making it difficult to find solace even in the familiar routines of Hogwarts.

During lunch in the Great Hall, Alistair found himself seated with his fellow Slytherins, but he felt detached, distant. The usual banter and camaraderie around him seemed hollow, overshadowed by the unresolved tension with Snape. He picked at his food, barely tasting it, lost in his thoughts.

As the afternoon wore on, Alistair found a secluded spot in the library, seeking refuge among the towering shelves of books. He sat alone at a study table, surrounded by the comforting scent of parchment and ink. Despite the solitude, his mind was restless, unable to shake the confrontation with Snape from earlier.

He pulled out a book on advanced charms, trying to distract himself with the intricacies of spellwork. But his concentration wavered, his thoughts drifting back to Snape's piercing gaze and cutting remarks. Anger flared anew within him, a potent mix of defiance and frustration.

"Why does he always have to be so relentless?" Alistair muttered to himself, slamming the book shut with more force than intended. He leaned back in his chair, running a hand through his hair in exasperation.