[8]
Her answer rang in Harry's and Ginny's ears as they were briskly transported away. Changing scenes once again, the Pensieve now took them deep inside the passageway right before the Shrieking Shack.
"Snape. Stop. Don't—don't do it. Please." James's words came in between breaths as he was trying to steady himself from just sprinting.
Snape's eyes flashed. Sneering, he said, "And why should I listen to you, Potter?" His words dripped with the deep loathing he held for James.
"Why the hell do you insist on being so daft? I don't exactly want to save your slimy self either, but you're Lily's friend, and that means something to me," James said quietly, his eyes staring down the pale, gaunt boy before him.
Snape looked unmoved at James' words. "Nice try, Potter. I still intend on finding out the truth, and getting the four of you scumbags exp—"
All of the sudden, a booming roar exploded mere meters away from the pair. Without blinking an eye, James rushed towards Snape. Seconds later, all Snape saw was the swift galloping of a stag's powerful hooves. Deftly, the stag pushed a shocked Snape onto his back with his antlers and rushed through the winding, completely pitch-black corridor quite expertly as if it had gone through that same secret passageway hundreds of times prior.
Behind them, the hot, hungry breath of a monstrous creature came bounding after the two. Just as the creature started closing in and snapped at the air around Snape's billowing robes, successfully tearing off a massive piece of cloth from Snape, the stag quickened its pace to a dizzying speed before leaping out of the secret passageway where Snape and James had entered shortly before. The monster held back from pursuing the pair and gave a long, defeated howl at the entranceway, its sharp fangs flashing in the midst of the night. Only then did Snape realize that they had been fleeing from a werewolf.
When they were finally far away from danger's reach did the stag dump Snape off its back rather unceremoniously. Snape rolled off the stag's back and fell flat on his stomach. With his head askew on the ground, Snape witnessed the stag's seamless transformation to one panting James Potter, who was on all fours. Multiple blisters had formed on the undersides of James's hands.
With a dramatic sigh, James threw Snape a dirty look, and muttered, "There goes Quidditch practice today."
Struggling slightly, he then stood up and winced at the act of walking on his sore feet. Both of his feet were raw from the physical exertion of racing away from the werewolf.
Snape, alarmed at the sight of James standing on his feet, whipped out his wand and brandished it in James's direction.
"Expelliarmus." James flicked his wand lazily and addressed Snape in an annoyed tone, "Really? You still think I'm going to hex you after I just saved your sorry definition of a life?"
Snape stared wide-eyed, his eyes bulging from beneath his greasy bangs that clung to his forehead in large clumps. He gasped out in short, raspy breaths, "You—disarmed—y'you're trying to—to kill me."
"Please. I don't enjoy your existence, but I wouldn't stoop so low as to kill you, Snivelly," James said acidly and pocketed his wand back into his robes. "You should leave now."