Harry had had enough. 'Professor Dumbledore - I'd like you to renew the
charm now!'
'But, don't you want to find out who your father is, Harry?'
'No, sir, I wouldn't. I wouldn't want to give professor Snape the pleasure of guessing correctly. Not that he is right of course, I don't even know myself,' he muttered.
Snape muttered an oath under his breath.
'But will you give -me- the pleasure of guessing correctly, Harry?' smiled Dumbledore.
Harry stood and thought for a moment. Dumbledore had probably worked it all out years ago. And he seemed quite relaxed about it. His father couldn't be bad if Dumbledore was smiling.
Harry made his decision. He turned and moved across to a large wall mirror to one side of Dumbledore's office. The mirror seemed ordinary, but it actually had a second function, which was similar to a rememberall's. But it was far more useful. If you had forgotten something it would visualise you holding it, or doing it.
Harry faced the mirror. Everything was a bit fuzzy because of the pillowcase. He noticed his reflection was holding his wand, and piled up next to him was his trunk, robes, books, broomstick, and Hedwig perched on top of it all. No matter - he would fetch these. He was supposed to be picked up by the Order later today.
Behind him - sat halfway across the room, the reflection of a nonchalant Snape was glaring daggers at the back of his head. So - the professor did have a reflection! He'd have to inform Fred and George of this.
'Glad to see that those rumours about you aren't true, Professor Snape,' remarked Harry mysteriously.
Snape's eyes narrowed. 'However much Hogwarts students would wish me to be, I am not currently dead, Mr Potter.' Snape paused. A smirk crossed his face. 'I am also, in the greatest ironical contrast to that rumour, a strict vegetarian. I feel confident revealing this to you, of course - because adding one more weapon to a hopeless verbal sparrer's arsenal won't increase his chances of winning.'
Harry pulled a face. Snape the vile, vicious, vampiric, (scratch that) vindictive, vengeful, VEGETARIAN? The latest in the apt adjectives for Snape beginning with 'V' just did not ring right.
Hermione would probably approve, though. She already insisted on only eating organic, free-range chicken eggs, and now refused to eat chicken because of a television programme she watched once.
Harry shook himself. What tangent was he going off on?
And now Snape was laughing at him.
Laughing? Snape? Snape - laughing?
It wasn't a good laugh either. He sounded similar to a boy who used to go to his primary school. Stephen Collins used to spit on his sweets before offering them to people. It was that sort of dry, nasty snicker.
A very, very annoying laugh. Worse than Malfoy's dry little hiss.
Harry had had quite enough. He balled his fists and without thinking, spun round, whipped the pillowcase from his head and jumped forward, glaring murderously at the insolent professor.
'Well! I happen to think you look exactly like - and are - a giant, overgrown bat Snape!' he roared.
Harry expected the Gryffindor house points to go into freefall at any moment. But they didn't.
The black eyes went wide with shock, the jaw slackened and dropped, and Severus Snape, master of style and stealth, as well as Potions, had in one movement yelped and shot back in his chair with such violence the chair had tipped backwards.
CRASH!
Harry blinked. What was he now - the giant squid? He swung round quickly to stare at the mirror.
He gasped, and felt as if he had just been punched in the stomach. (By the sound of the hyperventilating behind him, Snape probably had just punched himself in the stomach.)
Harry gaped. His original face had hardly changed. He was still thin faced, like James and still had the same shock of scruffy hair - like James. The greatest differences were that his eyebrows were thinner, his nose slightly longer, and his eyes, instead of bright green, or hazel, were now dark green.
Snape groaned, and made no attempt to get up off the floor.
'But-' Harry gasped, looking wildly around at Dumbledore. 'But I've hardly changed! - but - that has to be - impossible!'
Dumbledore's pale blue eyes began to twinkle. Then they began to glow red-
Harry yelled.
The thunder cracked and boomed loudly overhead, shaking the walls. Harry sat bolt upright, sweating and shaking, to find that he was on his bedroom floor, tangled up with his bedsheets and duvet cover. Hedwig's cage was empty, and the rain was pouring in his wide-open window, soaking his desk.
Breathing heavily Harry scrabbled to switch on the light. He wondered if he had yelled out loud this time, and woken the Dursleys. He shut the window and tried to hear above the noise of the storm.
The Dursleys were still snoring. He looked at his watch. It was half past one in the morning.
Harry looked around; there was no sign of the scroll. Had that been a dream then, or a vision?
He shuddered, remembering the glowing eyes. He hadn't had any visions from Voldemort since the confrontation in the Ministry of Magic. Was torturing him about his parents a sick new idea of his? But if it was indeed a vision, how come he wasn't seeing it through Voldemort's eyes?
He felt his face anxiously. Was his nose longer? He wasn't sure. Harry felt foolish, but he just had to check. Needed to look in a mirror.
'But, don't you want to find out who your father is, Harry?'
'No, sir, I wouldn't. I wouldn't want to give professor Snape the pleasure of guessing correctly. Not that he is right of course, I don't even know myself,' he muttered.
Snape muttered an oath under his breath.
'But will you give -me- the pleasure of guessing correctly, Harry?' smiled Dumbledore.
Harry stood and thought for a moment. Dumbledore had probably worked it all out years ago. And he seemed quite relaxed about it. His father couldn't be bad if Dumbledore was smiling.
Harry made his decision. He turned and moved across to a large wall mirror to one side of Dumbledore's office. The mirror seemed ordinary, but it actually had a second function, which was similar to a rememberall's. But it was far more useful. If you had forgotten something it would visualise you holding it, or doing it.
Harry faced the mirror. Everything was a bit fuzzy because of the pillowcase. He noticed his reflection was holding his wand, and piled up next to him was his trunk, robes, books, broomstick, and Hedwig perched on top of it all. No matter - he would fetch these. He was supposed to be picked up by the Order later today.
Behind him - sat halfway across the room, the reflection of a nonchalant Snape was glaring daggers at the back of his head. So - the professor did have a reflection! He'd have to inform Fred and George of this.
'Glad to see that those rumours about you aren't true, Professor Snape,' remarked Harry mysteriously.
Snape's eyes narrowed. 'However much Hogwarts students would wish me to be, I am not currently dead, Mr Potter.' Snape paused. A smirk crossed his face. 'I am also, in the greatest ironical contrast to that rumour, a strict vegetarian. I feel confident revealing this to you, of course - because adding one more weapon to a hopeless verbal sparrer's arsenal won't increase his chances of winning.'
Harry pulled a face. Snape the vile, vicious, vampiric, (scratch that) vindictive, vengeful, VEGETARIAN? The latest in the apt adjectives for Snape beginning with 'V' just did not ring right.
Hermione would probably approve, though. She already insisted on only eating organic, free-range chicken eggs, and now refused to eat chicken because of a television programme she watched once.
Harry shook himself. What tangent was he going off on?
And now Snape was laughing at him.
Laughing? Snape? Snape - laughing?
It wasn't a good laugh either. He sounded similar to a boy who used to go to his primary school. Stephen Collins used to spit on his sweets before offering them to people. It was that sort of dry, nasty snicker.
A very, very annoying laugh. Worse than Malfoy's dry little hiss.
Harry had had quite enough. He balled his fists and without thinking, spun round, whipped the pillowcase from his head and jumped forward, glaring murderously at the insolent professor.
'Well! I happen to think you look exactly like - and are - a giant, overgrown bat Snape!' he roared.
Harry expected the Gryffindor house points to go into freefall at any moment. But they didn't.
The black eyes went wide with shock, the jaw slackened and dropped, and Severus Snape, master of style and stealth, as well as Potions, had in one movement yelped and shot back in his chair with such violence the chair had tipped backwards.
CRASH!
Harry blinked. What was he now - the giant squid? He swung round quickly to stare at the mirror.
He gasped, and felt as if he had just been punched in the stomach. (By the sound of the hyperventilating behind him, Snape probably had just punched himself in the stomach.)
Harry gaped. His original face had hardly changed. He was still thin faced, like James and still had the same shock of scruffy hair - like James. The greatest differences were that his eyebrows were thinner, his nose slightly longer, and his eyes, instead of bright green, or hazel, were now dark green.
Snape groaned, and made no attempt to get up off the floor.
'But-' Harry gasped, looking wildly around at Dumbledore. 'But I've hardly changed! - but - that has to be - impossible!'
Dumbledore's pale blue eyes began to twinkle. Then they began to glow red-
Harry yelled.
The thunder cracked and boomed loudly overhead, shaking the walls. Harry sat bolt upright, sweating and shaking, to find that he was on his bedroom floor, tangled up with his bedsheets and duvet cover. Hedwig's cage was empty, and the rain was pouring in his wide-open window, soaking his desk.
Breathing heavily Harry scrabbled to switch on the light. He wondered if he had yelled out loud this time, and woken the Dursleys. He shut the window and tried to hear above the noise of the storm.
The Dursleys were still snoring. He looked at his watch. It was half past one in the morning.
Harry looked around; there was no sign of the scroll. Had that been a dream then, or a vision?
He shuddered, remembering the glowing eyes. He hadn't had any visions from Voldemort since the confrontation in the Ministry of Magic. Was torturing him about his parents a sick new idea of his? But if it was indeed a vision, how come he wasn't seeing it through Voldemort's eyes?
He felt his face anxiously. Was his nose longer? He wasn't sure. Harry felt foolish, but he just had to check. Needed to look in a mirror.