Chapter 8:
Dog Bites
Harry was now convinced Snape was out to get him. It was no accident that his broom had tried to throw him.
Ron and Hermione had explained all about it later.
"Snape was definitely jinxing it," Hermione said. She had previously refused to believe anything bad of any of the teachers, but the game against Slytherin had changed her mind.
"He almost killed you, Harry," she stated.
"Did he know it was you who set his robes on fire?" Harry asked.
Hermione shook her head. "He never knew what hit him."
Ron grinned. "Wicked!"
Hermione was more serious on the subject. "Be careful, Harry. Don't let Snape catch you alone. Always have someone with you at all times. Snape might very try to kill you again if he can."
Sound as it was, Hermione's advice wasn't really very realistic. It wasn't always possible for Harry to always be around other people. In the frenzy between classes and meals, he often got separated from his friends.
After a particularly rough double Potions, Harry realized he had forgotten to put the scroll with his homework assignment in his bag. He told Neville he'd catch up with him and retraced his steps.
The dungeon classroom was empty. Harry quickly slipped inside and reached his desk. The surface was clean. Harry crouched down and looked around on the floor. The parchment had rolled under the next table. He grabbed it.
Just then, Harry heard someone talking.
"Bloody creature, doesn't know the difference between an intruder and someone who's feeding it."
Harry froze. The voice belonged to Snape.
From the doorway, Snape's tall form emerged. He moved towards his desk, limping and the reason why was his right leg.
Snape pulled his robes above the knees. His right trouser leg was torn and his pale skin was slashed and bleeding.
"How is anyone supposed to keep track of all three heads at once?" Snape muttered. He was dabbing at the wounds, which even from Harry's position on the floor, he could clearly tell they were teeth-marks.
Harry swallowed. His head hit the underside of the table.
Snape grew rigid. "Who's there?" His voice was sharp and cold.
Harry held his breath, but it was too late. Snape saw him.
"POTTER!"
Harry hit his head again as he crawled out and stood, almost dropping his parchment.
Snape's eyes were burning, his face contorted with anger. "What are you doing here?" he hissed, hastily covering his leg with his robes.
Harry held up the parchment scroll. "H-homework," he squeaked.
Snape's hands clenched. "Get out."
Harry's legs felt like they were bolted to the stone floor.
"Get out NOW!" Snape roared.
Harry turned and ran as if all of Hell was after him and he didn't slow down until there were at least two floors between him and the dungeons. Only then did he stop and gasp for air. Harry wiped his damp forehead on his sleeve.
Snape was not only after him, but he was also after whatever was hidden on the third floor corridor.
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Snape was livid with rage. He had no way of knowing how long the boy had been in the classroom when he had returned, but by the expression that had been on his face, he knew Harry Potter had seen his wounded leg.
And he had guessed where the wound had come from. Harry's mouth had formed the word "fluffy." It had almost been audible.
Harry had been to the forbidden third floor corridor. He had seen the dog, the beast Hagrid had affectionately named "Fluffy."
Snape worked on his anger as he limped to his office. He needed to fix up his leg before anything else. It would be best to have Madam Pomfrey look at the bites, but he was not going to traipse all the way up to the hospital wing dripping blood.
Snape reached his office. He had bandages and restorative elixir in his supply cupboard. He began cleaning his leg. Considering the size of the dog's fangs, it was amazing his leg was still in one piece. His anger cooled slightly as he worked.
If he hadn't been taken by surprise, Snape would have given him detention, even though the boy had every right to be in the classroom.
To be sure, he had no proof that Harry had really been up to the locked corridor. No real evidence. Just a hunch and the look on his face. If he had been… Potter would be for it.
Snape wasn't really thinking of broken rules at this point. He was thinking of the dog. And the boy. The dog could kill him him in seconds. It had three times the advantage with those three heads. It had been trained to guard the trapdoor and it wouldn't take pity on a child or three children. Snape doubted very much that Harry had been alone. He went everywhere with Weasley and Granger these days. The girl at least had common sense, but the boys…
He secured the end of the bandage with a tap from his wand. Another swish of the wand and everything went back neatly into the supply cupboard which locked itself.
Snape left the dungeons in a hurry. He had one thought. To find Harry Potter. Snape didn't see him anywhere in the castle. He threw on his cloak and headed outside.
He spotted the boy on the edge of the courtyard. He was with Weasley and Granger, all wrapped up in scarves and thick cloaks against the cold. They were huddled close together, whispering.
A flash of annoyance came over Snape. He marched towards them, trying to keep his limp to a minimum. The trio looked up and conversation ceased. Harry was holding a book.
"Potter!" Snape barked.
Harry's face momentarily looked frightened.
"What book do you have there?"
Harry Potter looked up at Snape. The fear slowly morphed into something else. There was a glint in those bright eyes behind those glasses. "Quidditch, sir," he replied, as if he were challenging him.
Snape's eyes went to the book and back to the boy's face. There was a touch of defiance there. Snape felt an urge to crush it, but he couldn't very well take points off for Harry's facial expression. In the end he said, "Library books normally should not leave the school building. I'll let it slide this once. Damage the book and I'll take five points off Gryffindor. Understand, Potter?"
Harry stared back at him. "Yes."
"Yes, what?"
"Yes, professor."
"Good."
Snape then turned and left without another word.
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