Chapter 983 (1/2)
”You're late, Potter.”
When Harry closed the door, Snape said coldly.
Snape stood with his back to Harry and, as always, carefully removed part of the memory and placed it in Dumbledore's meditation basin. He put the last silver thread into the stone basin and turned to face Harry.
”So,” he said, ”did you keep practicing?”
Harry lied. He was staring at one leg of Snape's desk.
”Well, we'll find out in a minute, won't we?” Snape said smoothly, ”take out the wand, Potter.”
Harry went to his usual position and faced Snape across the table. His heart leaped with anger and worry about how much memory Snape was going to grab from his head.
”Count to three,” snape said lazily, ”one -, two -”
the door of Snape's office slammed open and Draco Malfoy rushed in.
”Professor Snape, sir - OH - I'm sorry -” Malfoy looked at Snape and Harry with some surprise.
”It's OK, Draco,” snape said, lowering his wand. ”Potter's here to take some potions.”
Harry hasn't been so happy with Malfoy since Umbridge suddenly appeared to censor Hagrid.
”I don't know,” Malfoy looked slyly at Harry.
Harry knew his face was red. He wished he could tell Malfoy the truth out loud - or, better still, give him a bad spell.
”Well, Draco, what's up?” Snape asked.
”It's professor ibudo, sir - he needs help.” Malfoy said, ”they found Warrington, sir. He's locked in a toilet on the fourth floor.”
”How could he have been locked in?” Snape asked.
”I don't know, sir. He's a little delirious.”
”Good, good. Porter, ”snape said,” we'll change the make-up time to tomorrow night. ”
He turned and strode out of the office. Before following out, Malfoy said to Harry in an exaggerated way behind Snape: ”potions?”
Harry thrust his wand back into his robe and was ready to leave. He had at least 24 hours to practice; he knew he should be grateful to get away from the class, though at a high price: Malfoy would tell the whole school that he needed to take potions.
When he came to the office door, he suddenly noticed that there was a flickering spot dancing on the doorframe. He stopped, stood there, looked at it, and thought of something And then he remembered: it was a bit like the light he had seen in his dream last night, the light in the second room through which he was walking in the Department of mysteries.