Disclaimers: See the first chapter.

Snippets From the Potterverse

Chapter 82 - St. Anger

Hermione and Ron had, for a while, enjoyed the luxury of silence.

They all-too-vividly remembered last year, when Harry's incessant rants and temper tantrums had been a part (a rather noisy part) of everyday life. Every day it had been something - Anti-Umbridge rants, complaints about his scar prickling, rants about Voldemort, wondering loudly if Sirius was going to do something stupid.

His best friends had found that the best defense was to smile politely, nod every now and then, and try not to fall asleep.

Hermione had come to the conclusion that Harry was indeed a very angry young man. Ron held the position that Harry was just "one sandwich short of a picnic", which was pretty much the same thing, so they treated their friend with the sort of caution and respect one might reserve for a mad dog.

But just lately, Harry's temper tantrums had resumed. There was no feasible explanation; unless it was the fact that Snape had been doing more and more disturbing things lately. That would drive anyone to insanity, Ron reflected. At the moment, he and Hermione were listening to Harry's latest rant.

Harry had a way of complaining that was eerily reminiscent of Hannah Abbot's drama queen acts. He would gesture wildly, sometimes hitting a passing first year in the head by accident, his voice getting louder and louder. Today's topic was Rita Skeeter. Her bad article on Sirius all the way back in Chapter 64 had finally roused his not inconsiderable rage.

"She's nothing but a stupid cow, how DARE she write that about Sirius, he is NOT a drunk and he is NOT a child-beater, he is a perfectly civil person most of the time..." Harry snapped his quill in half. Hermione and Ron moved theirs out of his reach. "She's such a bitch, I can't stand her... If only she'd die... throw her to some Blast-Ended Skrewts or Avada Kedavra her a thousand times over, anything..."

He was reaching the levels of fury that had normally been reserved for Dolores Umbridge. It was rather frightening.

"I can't STAND HER!" Harry repeated furiously. "How would SHE like it if someone printed BLATANT LIES ABOUT HER!"

Hermione was impressed that Harry even knew a word like 'blatant', but she still feared for her safety.

"I HATE RITA SKEETER!" Harry bellowed, to the surprise of the entire common room. "I AM NOT HERMIONE'S BOYFRIEND, I DO NOT CRY OVER MY PARENTS' DEATHS, AND MY GODFATHER IS NOT A CHILD-BEATING, BAR-CRUISING DRUNK!"

"Harry, calm down, mate," Ron said in alarm.

"BITE ME, WEASLEY!" Harry shrieked, throwing an inkwell at Ron and missing by miles. "WHO ASKED YOUR OPINION!"

Hermione forced a smile at some cowering first and second years behind her. "He'll burn himself out in time," she tried to reassure them.

"THAT'S WHAT YOU THINK, MISSY!" Harry screeched. "TALK ABOUT ANNOYING, YOU SUPER-SMART, BOOK-READING, RON-SHAGGING -"

Suddenly his face went quite blank; he stopped screaming, keeled over, and lay still upon the floor. Hermione smiled and said, "Ron?"

Ron got up and slung Harry over his shoulder, carrying him up the stairs to their dorm. Steam was slowly trickling from Harry's ears.

"He burns himself out in time," Hermione repeated, heading off to her own dorm.