Chapter 2
Dear Ms. Snape,
We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted into the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft & Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.
We understand that you have been home-schooled 3 years prior and are familiar with the current curriculum of learning. However, you are to now follow the standard educational proceedings of Hogwarts.
As reinstated by Professor Severus Snape, Potions Master, you should have no problem picking up on 4th year standards and following your classes. Therefore, a month's worth of separate and express learning will not be required.
Students may also bring an owl OR a cat OR a toad.
I also understand from Professor Snape that your particular pet is both your mode of transport and delivery, so I am willing to make an exception this once.
Term begins on September 1. We await your dragon by no later than July 31.
Yours sincerely,
Minerva McGonagall
Deputy Headmistress
Harry looked up from the letter to stare at the sullen expressions of Ron and Hermione. They had read the letter several times at the Weasleys' and now on the train ride to Hogwarts.
It didn't take a genius to figure out that the addressed student in the letter had a familial relationship with Professor Snape, especially with Professor McGonagall's constant reference to him and the student's name. Whoever this student was, had to be extremely close with Snape if he knew so much about her from her educational needs to her choice of pet.
This student had a Dragon no less!
From what Hermione had told him, dragons were powerful and nearly untamable magical creatures, so for someone to own one, the person would have to be either particularly skilled in the art of rearing it, or came from a very rich family.
Ron fidgeted in his seat, restless. Finally, after composing his thoughts, he asked the burning question that was on everyone's minds.
"You don't think that that girl from last night is this "Joan" person, do you? And that her father she had been looking for, is Professor Snape?" His voice hitched.
Hermione sighed in exasperation and slammed her book shut.
"That's preposterous, Ron! We've already been through this! Professor Snape has no heir or any other relative or sibling of the age of 14!" She recited from the knowledge she had gathered last night.
"There is a perfectly logical explanation to this! One, the girl last night is not the person the letter is referring to. For all you know, someone else could have dropped it. In case you've forgotten, it was chaos at the World Cup. Two,"
She whacked both boys upside their heads in frustration, ignoring Ron's indignant exclamation of "Blimey, Hermione!"
"Anyone can have the name "Severus" and Professor McGonagall could have made an error by spelling her family name wrong! You're both getting worked up over this for nothing!"
Harry winced, rubbing his head.
"But Hermione, what if this letter belonged to that girl? It would certainly explain a lot! Especially since she knows things she shouldn't have been able to…"
"Like what? This is certainly something you failed to mention last night." Said Hermione.
"Sorry, had a lot on my mind." He rubbed at his scar and Hermione nodded in understanding.
"She knew I play for Gryffindor as Seeker, and she knew I caught the Golden Snitch in my very first game with my mouth." He blushed in embarrassment as he recalled that event.
"You would have to be in Hogwarts watching that game to know! On top of that…" He trailed off and Ron and Hermione had to lean in closer to hear his next words.
"I'm sure you all noticed the color of her eyes…"
At that, both Ron and Hermione nodded in agreement. They could never forget the unnatural shade of color her eyes had been and the only person they knew who had eyes like that, was-
"Voldemort."
An uncomfortable silence fell over the carriage as the three pondered over the recent turn of events: Death Eaters rioting in the open, the Dark Mark appearing in the sky, Harry's latest vision, and now this girl with the mysterious red eyes.
Had Voldemort returned? And did that strange girl have anything to do with it?
However, before he could muse over his thoughts some more, the muffled voice of the Trolley lady sounded from beyond their carriage door. Shelving the previous discussion at the back of his mind, Harry decided to get something to eat, with Ron in tow.
The Trolley lady greeted them in her usual cheery manner, a warm smile gracing her features. Somehow it made both boys feel a little better.
"Hello, loves. Anything from the trolley?"
Ron scrunched up his face in thought, before finally deciding on his purchase.
"Erm… a packet of Droobles… Licorice Candy Cane… and some chocolate frogs."
The lady nodded and was about to hand the sweets over to him when Ron changed his mind.
"On second thought, just the Droobles."
A haughty snicker caused both Ron and Harry to groan inwardly in displeasure.
Not now…
"What's wrong, Weasley? Too poor to afford more than a small handful of candy? You poor, poor thing." Taunted the newcomer as he tucked back a stray strand of blonde hair.
Ron glared at the blonde, fighting against every fiber of his soul not to tackle the infuriating git and beat him senseless.
"Piss off, Malfoy!"
In the middle of the aisle stood Draco Malfoy, his arms crossed, head held up high, and an arrogant smirk plastered on his lips. At his sides stood Blaise Zabini, expression bored and condescending, and Pansy Parkinson, a girl whose face was made ugly by her sneering expression.
"As usual, the Weasel lacks an intelligent comeback."
Harry rolled his eyes. Clearly, Malfoy came to get his daily dose of "let's insult Harry Potter and his friends". He ignored the pompous laughter and put his arm around Ron's shoulder, steering the both of them away and back towards their carriage. The best way to handle the situation was to ignore him.
"Hey, Draco darling! What's this? It looks like Potty dropped something!" chirped Pansy.
Harry froze before hurriedly fumbling at his robes.
Crap! The letter!
He whirled around just in time to see Draco unfold the parchment, his grey eyes scanning through the contents. The blonde's eyes moved from neutral, to surprise, to anger, then to confusion.
"What's the meaning of this, Potter? How did you get this? And who in Merlin's name is 'Ms. Snape'?"
"The hell I know!" snapped Harry, as he snatched the parchment back from Draco. "And that's none of your bloody business!"
"Oh no you don't!" Draco moved forward to stare the boy-who-lived down in a threatening manner. "You're not hiding this one from me, Potter. You know something, and I intend to find out or else…"
Harry gave him a hard shove.
"Or else what? You tell 'Daddy-dearest' to get people to beat the information out of me? Oh wait, he's in Azkaban now, isn't he?"
In a fit of rage, Draco made a lunge forward, determined to literally bash that triumphant smirk off the Gryffindor's face, but was held back by Blaise.
"Draco! Let it go! It's just Potter; he's not worth it, so just drop it and let's go." Blaise admonished and it was only until Draco's struggling ceased, did he let go.
"You will regret that, Potter." He sneered, contemptuous venom dripping from his voice.
Neatening his robes and turning his chin up, Draco stormed off, his two friends keeping pace as they disappeared behind a door leading to the next carriage.
Harry shook his head and sighed as he looked at the letter in his hand, more specifically, the name on it.
"You have no idea how much trouble you're getting me into right now…"
As soon as the first years were sorted and the foreign exchange students settled down, Dumbledore cleared his throat and began.
"Well now that we're all settled in and sorted, I'd like to make an announcement. This castle will not only be your home this year but home to some very special guests as well."
His eyes twinkled as he glanced around at the foreign students who had already made themselves comfortable.
"You see, Hogwarts has been chosen to host a legendary event: The TriWizard Tournament. The Tournament brings together three schools for a series of magical contests. From each school a single student is selected to compete. Now let me be clear. If chosen, you stand alone. And trust me when I say, these contest are not for the faint-hearted. But more of that later. "
Just then, the Great Ceiling gave a loud crack and threatened to give way. Gasps and startled screams pervaded the air but were soon cut short when a spell was cast to fix the damage.
All eyes in the Great Hall turned to fix on a strange conspicuous man with thinning dark grey grizzled hair and had a face that looked to have been carved out of wood by an untalented artist. The man had a rather intimidating aura about himself - a certain authority and power, but at the same time, could not be trusted. He had a peculiar eye that darted in all directions (independently) in place where his left eye ought to be, and walked with an obvious limp in his step.
The man approached Dumbledore and the two shook hands, mumbling something to each other underneath their breaths. After announcing to the school that this man was Alastor Moody and was to be their new Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor, said man moved to stand to the side to watch the proceedings.
However, before Dumbledore could continue, the Great Ceiling gave an even louder crack than before and a sudden rumbling occurred, sending the students into another fit of distress. The illusion started to ripple and fade in and out, before it disappeared entirely to be replaced by the form of a large, falling dragon.
The dragon roared in distress as it plummeted down to the ground, landing in an awkward heap in the center of the Great Hall and its many occupants. It began to struggle about in a comical fashion as it tried to turn itself around to a proper position, but failed miserably.
The dragon was extremely large and was easily 6 times the height and 7 times the length of an average person. It had fiery reddish-black scales that glistened under the light from the candles, striking gold eyes, and great majestic wings. Its wings were tucked and it had reigns at its mouth. It was covered with spikes from head to tail.
Thankfully, all the students had evacuated their tables to rush to the other end of the Hall; otherwise they would have been crushed under the massive creature's weight and the impact.
The Professors immediately whipped out their wands to aim at the flailing creature, all except Snape who, Harry noticed, did not seemed to be fazed in the slightest bit, and did not have his wand out. Harry frowned, the gears in his head turning. Could this be the dragon mentioned in the letter? If that was so, then that would mean…
"Cerberus, you idiot! Get off! Get off!"
Harry gasped. He knew that voice!
As if on cue, the dragon gave a surprised snort and quite literally jumped back to reveal a coughing raven-haired girl with short unruly hair and crimson eyes, beneath its tail. The girl rolled over and stood up, neatening and dusting her Hogwarts robes, before facing the Professors at the front as she began apologizing profusely.
"Sorry, sorry, sorry!" She flailed miserably.
"I lost my admittance letter! And I missed the train! And I got lost! And this crazy old man with a cat didn't want to let me in! And I couldn't contact Professor Snape! And it was raining! And lightning scares Cerberus! And the idiot-"
The Great Hall suddenly exploded with commotion as the students began speaking in frantic, hurried speeches and gestures as they exchanged comments and questions about the newcomer and her inappropriate grand entrance.
Ron had grabbed Harry by the arm and gave him a pointed stare, nodding his head in the direction of the girl and her dragon. Harry new what Ron was indicating, after all, the both of them had similar speculations regarding the girl and her relation to Snape; and now this happened! It was all coming together: The girl, the dragon, Professor Snape, the girl's commencement of her 4th year (their year).
Hermoine grabbed Harry's other arm and gave him a pensive stare. She bit her lip and nodded in acknowledgement. Harry and Ron had been right.
Harry felt someone's gaze on him and chanced a glance to his left to see Draco giving him a questioning frown. Harry groaned and allowed his head to droop. Great, now Malfoy knew and wasn't going to let the matter drop. Why did these things always happen to him?
"SILENCE!" Dumbledore boomed.
The students immediately fell silent and the Professors, after realizing the dragon was no threat, lowered their wands. All eyes were now fixed at the Hall's center as Dumbledore approached the apprehensive girl.
"That's quite alright, my dear. Now, what is your name?" He coaxed gently.
"Joan, sir. Joan Snape." She answered.
Harry's jaw clenched. He knew it. He felt both Ron and Hermoine's hands twitch around his arms and knew that they thought the same thing.
"Ah, right then. Let's get you sorted." Dumbledore's eyes twinkled in knowing as he wrapped his arm around the girl's shoulders and led her to the front of the Great Hall to the Sorting Hat.
"Hagrid, would you take care of the dragon, please?"
Hagrid nodded, took the dragon by the reigns and slowly led the giant creature out of the Great Hall, which surprisingly, showed no resistance. With a wave of his wand, Dumbledore repaired all the damage caused by the dragon, restoring the broken tables, benches, and cutleries. As soon as the students moved to take their seats at their respective House tables, Dumbledore motioned for the girl to take a seat on the sorting chair.
"Erm, Dumbledore, sir? I'm sorry for all the trouble caused and… will Cerberus be alright?" the girl now known as Joan asked tentatively. Dumbledore smiled.
"No worries, my child. Hagrid is our school's gamekeeper and an expert in Magical Creatures. Cerberus will be well taken care of."
Joan smiled in relief, but when her gaze met that of a disapproving Professor Snape's, she quickly adverted her eyes to stare at her lap. Great, she knew she blew it big time. Talk about drawing massive unnecessary attention. Now the whole school knew.
Dumbledore placed the Sorting Hat on her head. The students and Professors watched on in interest.
"Well, well, well, what have we here?" The Sorting Hat spoke.
"Good evening." Joan greeted politely.
Why, it's a Snape! Now this won't take long!
Worry not for I'll have it done by the end of my song!
Your soul is dark but your heart is pure,
Your unfathomable contradiction holds a certain allure.
There's more to you than meets the eye,
More than you will ever know,
Just like the mind of a boy three years ago.
I see that you have a cunning mind,
But a heart brave and true, a rather rare find.
Now where do I put you?
I wonder more and more.
Will it be Slytherin, or perhaps Gryffindor?
There was a long and stifling silence as the Hat evaluated its answer. The silence stretched on for a good 5 minutes before frustration started to settle in Joan. She looked up at the hat upon her head.
"You're enjoying the attention, aren't you?" She deadpanned.
It snorted.
"What nonsense! You are simply hard to place…"
"Oh please, you're just reluctant to be shelved away for another year."
"With that attitude, I know where you're going!"
There was a pause and the Sorting Hat seemed to be readying itself and Joan clenched her eyes shut in anticipation.
"SLYTHERIN!"
A large smile found its way on Joan's lips as she turned around quickly to give Professor Snape a thumbs-up. She would forever remember the proud look he had on his face as he nodded at her curtly. …alright, it was just the tiniest upward twitch of his lips, but Joan knew him long enough to decipher it as a look of pride.
The Slytherins cheered loudly for having yet another addition to their house. However, only two people failed to join in the chorus of cheers, and they were Draco Malfoy and Blaise Zabini.
The Slytherin prince smirked as he continued to stare at their latest addition as she strolled down the aisle, making her way to the Slytherin table. Well, this ought to be interesting, not to mention thoroughly promising to have a Snape in their house. The whole prospect was advantageous enough for him to disregard her prior improper and crude entrance.
Doing his best to ignore Pansy who was giggling about how constipated Potter looked from the Sorting Hat's decision, he leaned to whisper in Blaise's ear.
"Hey, Blaise, what do you think? Think we stand a chance beating those rotten Gryffindors this year?" Blaise snorted, his expression remaining bored as always.
"I think that you miserable lot are overreacting for nothing. That girl clearly lacks proper carriage and for her to possess Gryffindor characteristics is nothing short of appalling."
Draco rolled his eyes.
"In other words, she's not your type. Merlin knows why you're so damn hard to please!"
"And you?"
Draco snickered as his eyes followed the girl's approaching form.
"Let's just say, I could use a change of scenery." He indicated at Pansy causing his friend to chuckle in amusement.
"Besides, she seems to be important to Potter, and we all know how much I love condemning his very existence."
Joan paused in front of the duo, offered them a friendly smile, before taking a seat opposite them, marking the end of their conversation.
"Your attention please. Now that that's through, I'd like to say a few words."
All heads turned to see what their Headmaster had to say.
"Eternal Glory. That is what awaits the Student who wins the TriWizard Tournament. But to do this the Student must survive three tasks. Three extremely dangerous tasks. To explain all this we have the Head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation, Mr. Bartemus Crouch... "
A nervous man in his late 30s stepped forth. He donned black billowing wizard robes, a cape, and a black bowler hat. As he spoke his fingers twitched about every now and then, as if crowds had a negative effect on him.
At the Gryffindor table, Harry, Ron and Hermoine had shared knowing looks, all three remembering the events from the previous night. They spared a glance at Joan, whose expression had turned sour just by staring at the man.
"Due to the considerations by the Ministry, no witch or wizard below the age of 17, is allowed to participate in the tournament…" Mr. Crouch was overpowered by the loud chorus of jeers and expletives from the students in the Great Hall. He continued anyway.
"This is the final decision by the Ministry and will be upheld."
"THAT'S RUBBISH! THAT'S RUBBISH!"
"BOOO! BOOOOO!"
"NO BLOODY WAY!"
"THAT'S DAMN RIGHT UNFAIR!"
A vein in Dumbledore's head twitched.
"SILENCE!" He boomed once more.
When the indignant cries died down, Dumbledore raised his wand to the central pedestal in the Great Hall, magically ridding the shimmering treasure off its previous form, to reveal a great golden goblet alight with a powerful blue flame.
"The Goblet of Fire! Anyone wishing to submit themselves to the tournament need only write their name upon a piece of parchment and throw it in the flame before this hour on Thursday night." He eyed everyone in the hall in warning.
"Do not do so lightly! If chosen, there's no turning back. As from this moment, The Triwizard Tournament has begun!"
The flame burned even brighter as the blue tendrils licked the edges of the goblet, dancing with a magical force. The sight was rather intimidating, so much so that students found it hard to continue their supper, occasionally glancing up to stare at the Goblet in awe.
Harry himself was finding it hard to ignore the Goblet, but his stomach came first and all the previous excitement had worked quite an appetite.
"Pity, aye, Harry?" Ron sighed wistfully.
"If only we were of age… Would be quite exciting, don't you think?"
Harry could only nod his head in response. They all knew there was no chance of that happening anytime soon, so no use brooding about it. Whoever the Goblet selected from Hogwarts, he would honestly support them along with the rest of the school.
"The Tri-Wizard Tournament is not a game, Ron!"
And as Hermoine proceeded to nag at the spluttering red-head, much to the rest of their housemates' amusement, Harry found himself staring at the raven-haired, now Slytherin, girl. A small part of him was glad that she was happy where she was, but a larger part of him wished she could be sitting with him and his friends. They had gotten along so well.
At the Slytherin table, as soon as the announcements were over, Draco had wasted no time in striking a conversation with the newcomer. He had already decided that if he could be-friend Snape and get her on his side, he would not only be able to get deeper into Professor Snape's good books, but get back at Potter as well.
He extended his hand across the table.
"Joan Snape, right?"
Said girl looked up from her meal into charming pools of grey set on fine, handsome features framed with neatly styled platinum blonde hair. She placed her utensils aside, dabbed the corners of her mouth with a napkin, before giving the Slytherin prince her full, undivided attention.
"That is correct. And if I may, you are…?" She questioned politely.
Draco smirked, pleased with her conduct. No doubt, a pure-blood raised with fine standards.
"The name's Draco Malfoy, son of Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy, and the heir to the Malfoy name and fortune. Sources tell me that you are familiar with Potter, the Weasel, and the Mudblood. It is rather unfortunate that you got mixed up with bad company before the school year started. You aren't to be blamed though. You will soon find out that some wizarding families are better than others. You certainly don't want to go making friends with the wrong sort. I can help you there."
"OOOOO~!"
Without an ounce of hesitation, Joan took Draco's hand in hers and proceeded to shake it violently. Draco blanched. He felt his eyes vibrating in its sockets.
"OH MAN. THIS IS LIKE, SUCH A LIFE-CHANGING EXPERIENCE."
Draco withdrew his hand sharply, regarding Joan with a look of sheer disbelief. What had happened to that refined poise and grace but a minute ago? He decided to let it drop and neatened himself up from the force of her handshake.
"Er… right. Anyway, this is Blaise Zabini." He placed his hand on said wizard's shoulder.
"Only son of the famously beautiful witch, Ms. Zabini, with a reputation and fortune rivaled by no other. Well, maybe except for me. Regardless, his status is overtly renown and his abilities and proficiency as a pure-blood wizard is nothing short of excellent. Do excuse his aloof attitude. You shouldn't pay heed to all things he says because that's customary for him. He is a man of few words after all."
Blaise smirked, regarding Joan through half-lidded eyes.
"Quite the pleasure."
"YES, YES, YES. SO CAN I EAT NOW?"
Blaise and Draco shared strange looks, disturbed by the girl's loud personality. Taking their silence as consent, Joan continued with her meal, nodding her head occasionally as she pretended to listen to Pansy Parkinson's high-pitched bragging, self-introduction, and constant reminders that Draco and her were together.
Joan looked up from her meal to give the boys a pained expression. The words "Help me!" "Oh in Merlin's beard, will she just shut up?!" and "How the fuck do you manage to deal with her!?" clearly written all over her face.
Draco chuckled, a tiny little sparkle dancing at the corners of his eyes. This girl wasn't perfect, but she was interesting.
Just then, something across the Great Hall caught his eyes and Draco couldn't help but let out a loud chortle. He crossed his arms and gave the widest sneer he could muster.
"Well, well, well, it seems like you have an admirer, Joan."
"Uh?" Joan replied unintelligently and turned her head to gaze in the direction Draco was looking.
Joan's eyes widened in joyful surprise and she couldn't help the wide grin that inched it way up her lips, growing wider as emerald green eyes found hers.
"HARRY!" She jumped up from her seat, the sheer force causing the rest of the Slytherins to re-establish their balance on the bench, as she rushed towards the Gryffindor table.
"W-Wait! Where do you think you're going?"
"Draco, get back here!"
It was quite a comical sight, really. Joan was laughing as she skipped along, while a disoriented Draco gave chase, and a stumbling Blaise fought to catch up to the two. And as they drew closer, Hermione knew things weren't going to bode well. She sighed and placed her book on her lap.
"It's nice to finally meet and greet you in proper, Joan!" Hermione began in a friendly manner, noticing that Harry was still staring and not really doing anything intelligent.
Joan laughed sheepishly.
"Eheheh… Sorry about that. Somehow I just kept missing the chance to introduce myself properly."
"No problem, it's understandable. Well, as you already know, that's Harry Potter-"
"And I'm Ron by the way, Ron Weasley!" Ron interrupted, shaking Joan's hand firmly.
"Heard that you saved Harry's arse last night! Really appreciate it! Thanks! Ah-Owww!" Hermione held Ron's ear in a death-grip.
"And I'm Hermione Granger!" She smiled, letting go.
Ron grumbled something beneath his breath as he nursed his ear gently. Joan laughed, finding the exchange between them rather adorable. Ron on the other hand, gave her a look that clearly stated he thought her to be a sadist.
"Aw, aren't you two cute? Anyway, the name's Joan Severus Snape, but you guys can just call me Joan." She whipped out her wand to cast a simple cooling charm on Ron's inflamed ear.
"That is, if I may have the pleasure in calling you Harry, Ron and Hermione?"
The moment of friendship was broken however, when Draco grabbed Joan roughly by the shoulder and spun her around. Judging by the expression on his face, the blonde looked pissed and rather insulted.
"And what exactly do you think you're doing associating yourself with Potter, Weasel, and that filthy Mudblood?!" Draco ground out through clenched teeth.
"Draco! You're causing a scene!" Blaise hissed but was ignored.
Draco continued to stare Joan down.
"As MY friend, you are NOT to socialize with the likes of –he sneered at the Golden trio as if they were vermin- them. As I recall, we shook on it."
"And as I recall," Joan began to size him up, not wanting to back down.
"There wasn't any agreement as to who I may choose as my friends! Besides, what sort of SICK friendship requires THAT?"
"Fine! Potter and Weasley, I get it. But the Mudblood? Didn't your parents teach you that Mudbloods are an INSULT to the wizarding name! Their mere existence is repulsive, utterly disgusting!"
By now, all the students of the Great Hall were staring, Draco and Joan's argument drawing quite a commotion. Even Blaise, Harry, Ron and Hermoine dared not get involved.
"Well, excuse me, but THIS –she pointed at herself- Mudblood doesn't think highly of YOU, either! Nothing is more filthy than the tongue of blind prejudice!"
She moved to stand in front of Hermoine who looked both touched and shocked at the same time. Joan placed her hand on the brunette's shoulder in reassurance.
"Oh, and Malfoy? Before you go on insulting others' parentage, you should recall exactly who I heir from!"
Draco took a short moment to process Joan's words, before a confident smirk set itself on his lips. He sauntered towards the female, loomed threateningly before her and grabbed her chin harshly. He tugged her forward and stared down into hard-set red irises.
Her courage was impressive.
"But, if I recall YOUR parentage, there's no way you can be a Mudblood." Draco said silkily, figuring the girl had lied to defend Granger.
"Unless of course, you're telling the truth, in which case, Professor Snape is nothing but a filthy mongrel himself. Humph. If there's one thing worse than being a Mudblood, it's contributing to the population with their kind."
That insult did it.
Joan's eyes flashed in pure rage as she forcefully yanked her chin away from Draco's grip and pointed her wand at him. She screamed.
"You may insult me, Malfoy! But don't you DARE insult him! DON'T YOU FUCKING DARE INSULT HIM! LEVICORPUS!"
Before Draco knew what hit him, he saw the Great Hall upside-down and was violently flung in the air. Laughing insanely, Joan controlled Draco's movements with her wand, flinging him across the room in whatever direction she pleased, with the poor and frightened blonde all the while dangling upside down.
However, just before she could have him permanently dangled on the chandelier, a stern and authoritative voice cut through the air, effectively silencing the laughing students.
Professor Severus Snape had risen from his seat and casted the counter-jinx, sending Draco sprawling on the floor as the magical reigns that controlled his body, left him. Professor Snape fixed the caster with an infuriated and displeased glare, and if looks could kill, the victim would have seen better days by getting run over by a hoard of Hippogriffs.
"MS. SNAPE!" He bellowed, uncaring of the fear the students and some Professors' eyes held.
"THAT IS NOT THE PROPER CONDUCT A WITCH SUCH AS YOURSELF SHOULD HAVE EXHIBITED!
I AM VERY DISAPPOINTED IN YOU AND YOUR ACTIONS THUS FAR!
I EXPECTED BETTER DISCIPLINE FROM YOU!
FUTURE MISCONDUCT WILL NOT BE TOLERATED!
DO I MAKE MYSELF PERFECTLY CLEAR!"
The Great Hall fell deathly silent. Even Dumbledore dared not come between Professor Snape and his uncharacteristic loss of temper. Harry looked at Joan worriedly, the girl having gone frightfully pale and trembled slightly under the scrutinizing glare of the Potions Master.
Joan bit her lip, placing her hands in front of her as she lowered her eyes to the floor in shame.
"Yes… Father."
