Professor McGonagall didn't fly into a rage at me immediately as I had expected, but that didn't make me feel any better. I had even prepared to lift my chin and reply, "I think I did something wrong, but I don't regret it. I'd do the same thing if I were in the same situation again."
However, she left me standing there, retrieved a letter from the owl waiting for her in the office, and then started reading the long letter in her hand as if she had forgotten I was still there. I could faintly hear the sound of the bell outside - she didn't intend to let me go to the Arithmancy class.
I looked down at my feet. The carpet I stepped on was slowly changing colors. Pressing harder would make the color darker, and gently brushing over it would create a beautiful semi - transparent light color. Gradually, the blazing anger in my chest subsided, and I began to feel a bit cold because I had just sweated all over.
"I think what you did to Miss Pansy Parkinson today was extremely bad, not just because you publicly attacked a classmate from another house with such a destructive spell in the Great Hall. I don't want to ask where you learned such a vicious curse. Being able to cause this level of damage at your age proves that you've inherited your parents' talent. But instead of using it to protect those around you, you used it to attack those around you. I have to say, I'm very disappointed, Iris." She finally spoke, in a very serious tone, but she called me by my given name at the end.
I opened my mouth, about to retort, but she held out her hand to stop me. Looking out of the window, she said, "During the heyday of You - Know - Who, he claimed that persecuting Muggles and Muggle - borns was a form of justice. But now, if a wizard attempts to harm a Muggle, he will face interrogation by the Ministry of Magic and imprisonment in Azkaban. The insults and slander your mother endured during that era were beyond your imagination. The way she fought against such baseless accusations was to strive for the arrival of a new era."
"Admittedly, there are still those who cling to views that should have been discarded long ago. But using violence to force others to submit will never win their true conviction. Otherwise, we wouldn't all be standing here today." McGonagall looked at me sharply. "Your mother wouldn't have wanted to be 'protected' by you in this way. You must always remember that using coercion and violence to make others yield is not the way to uphold justice. When you're in danger of being threatened by violence, I'll encourage you to resist in any way you know, but clearly, today wasn't such a situation."
"I'll remember that." I lowered my head.
"I know I haven't convinced you yet, but one day you'll understand that I'm right, Miss Snape." She stood up, and her tone was no longer as harsh as at the beginning. "When you were a child, because your mother was too busy, your father brought you to Hogwarts a few times. The old professors who taught your parents back then all said you were the spitting image of Lily, and there was hardly any trace of your father in you. But I think they were wrong. I watched your mother grow up, and deep down, you're more like your father. You're quiet, not one to initiate conversations with others, and most of the time, you're immersed in your own world. Before the Sorting Ceremony, I was standing at the entrance of the Great Hall to welcome the students of your year. I saw you standing next to Mr. Malfoy, listening to him. At that moment, I thought I wouldn't be surprised if you were sorted into Slytherin."
I had never seen Professor McGonagall chatter like this. Her dignity and decisiveness made it hard to think that she was actually an elderly person.
"But the Sorting Hat put you in Gryffindor. At that time, I thought I had misjudged." I must have been mistaken, for the corners of her mouth seemed to lift slightly. "Today, it seems I wasn't wrong, Miss Snape. Perhaps even your father didn't realize how similar you two are in some ways. But you should know that your father changed a lot for your mother back then."
"Because of your behavior today, Gryffindor will lose forty points. Starting this weekend, you will serve detention with Professor Sprout every weekend. She happens to need some help, and she'll tell you what to do when you get there, until the end of the semester." It must have been my illusion just now. Her voice had now regained its dignity. "I don't expect you to understand what I said right away, but you need to think it over carefully."
Another forty points deducted. I'd probably be isolated for a long time again. But it didn't matter. I just needed some alone time to prepare for the final exams. Being isolated or not was pretty much the same to me anyway - and I didn't have many friends to begin with.
However, I was wrong. On my way to the Care of Magical Creatures class, I came across a group of Gryffindors who had just finished class. Somehow, someone took the lead and started clapping for me. Many people came over to pat me on the shoulder, including some senior students I'd never spoken to before. The Weasley twins pushed their way to the front of me and exclaimed, "That was so cool!" They kept asking me what spell I'd used and whether I could teach them.
"I, I'm going to be late for class -" I wasn't used to being treated like this and tried to escape from the center of the crowd in a fluster. But they surrounded me tightly, constantly repeating my "heroic deeds" from this morning.
"Parkinson didn't even have time to react!" Cormac McLaggen said triumphantly, as if he was the one who had shoved Parkinson into the cereal bowl himself. He grabbed my hand, and I instinctively tried to pull away, but his hand seemed to have suction cups and was even trying to squeeze between my fingers. "Iris, we always thought you -"
"Could you let go of me first?" His sticky sweat on my hand made me feel uncomfortable. I instinctively stepped back, but I was surrounded by Gryffindors and almost stepped on someone's foot. "Well, um - I didn't do the right thing. Professor McGonagall criticized me..."
"That's because she's the Head of the House! She has to maintain the appearance of fairness and justice!" Just as McLaggen let go of my hand and I hadn't had time to walk away, he put his arm around my shoulders. If I didn't know he was just a year above me, I would have thought he was going to award me some points as the student council president. "This is a great lesson for Slytherin! Make them unable to hold their heads up in front of us, whether on the Quidditch pitch or in daily life!"
"Sorry," I tried to wriggle out from under his arm, but he was bigger and burlier than any of the male students I knew. I couldn't even reach for my wand in my pocket. "Sorry, could you let go of me first -"
"She asked you to let her go. Didn't you hear?"
I looked up and saw Draco leaning against a lush but not very tall tree, wearing a very impatient expression on his face.
"What's wrong with you? Did a Bludger hit your head or was your brain used as a Quaffle? Can't you understand what she just said?" He jumped down from the tree. Although he was tall for his age, it had to be said that in front of McLaggen, his slender figure made him look rather unimposing.
"If I were you, Malfoy, I'd run away with my tail between my legs." Instead of letting go of me, McLaggen pulled me even closer. "You didn't even bring your stupid lackeys with you - we'd love to send the Slytherin Seeker to the hospital wing before the final."
"McLaggen, let Iris go first." One of the Weasley twins said. "We don't need such underhanded tactics to win the game. We'd rather use their heads as Bludgers on the pitch."
McLaggen pursed his lips. The moment he loosened his grip, I used all my strength to break free from him.
"We'll be late for Defense Against the Dark Arts if we don't get back to the castle." Lee Jordan looked at his watch and said. "Guys, according to reliable sources, Professor Lupin isn't teaching this class. We'd better hurry."
McLaggen made a rude gesture at Draco. The moment Draco raised his wand, I grabbed his sleeve.
"It's not like you to pick a fight with a large group of seniors all by yourself." I said in a conciliatory tone. "Go to class, Draco."
He shook my hand off violently and said in a sarcastic tone, "Why don't you go find your youthful pal instead. Where's your little boyfriend? Off washing the handkerchief you gave him?"
With that, he snorted and strode away without looking back.
My friendship with Draco Malfoy ended because of that ridiculous issue of the Daily Prophet. In the days that followed, he never had any communication with me again. During classes, he sat with the Slytherins, seizing every opportunity to talk loudly about the Quidditch final.
The atmosphere in the school was extremely tense. The conflict between Gryffindor and Slytherin had never been so sharp - I had undoubtedly set a bad precedent for the upcoming Quidditch final. To my great surprise, Slughorn didn't retire after my father returned to Hogwarts. Instead, he invited me to some "Slug Club" gathering before the final exams, which I declined on the grounds of my detention.
It was that time of the month again, and Dad started taking over from Professor Lupin to teach us Defense Against the Dark Arts. Everyone was already accustomed to Professor Lupin's monthly illness. However, the Gryffindors still couldn't hide their disappointment, just as they had been for over a semester. He walked briskly through the classroom, ignoring all the whispers, and simply commanded us in a cold tone, "Turn to page 394."
"Look at Parkinson," I heard Ron Weasley whisper gleefully behind me. I looked up and saw Parkinson, who was sitting beside Draco, turn pale. She nearly dropped the textbook in her hand as my dad approached.
"She clearly didn't know Professor Snape was back this week," Miss Granger said to me out of the corner of her mouth. "Maybe she thought, like Ron, that he wouldn't be back until next semester. Wait, werewolves? But we've just started learning about - "
Dad assigned us a whole roll of parchment's worth of homework, asking us to write about how to identify a werewolf among ordinary people. When the class ended, everyone was downcast, seemingly temporarily forgetting the tension between Gryffindor and Slytherin. As soon as the bell rang, Parkinson fled the classroom as if running for her life, as if she was afraid that if she stayed one more second, my dad would torture her. But it didn't really help. Two days later, I heard that for some reason, Dad had lashed out at Miss Parkinson and punished her to deal with toad innards in his office until the end of the semester.
The end of the Quidditch final didn't improve the atmosphere between the two houses. Since I missed the game due to my detention with Professor Sprout (and I was rather grateful for that), I didn't know what exactly happened on the field. But after the game, conflicts between Gryffindors and Slytherins still occurred constantly. I already had quite a few classmates who accompanied me to repot Professor Sprout's Mandrakes.
Gryffindor's victory undoubtedly put Draco in an even worse mood. He maliciously counted down the days until Buckbeak's execution during meals every day and was determined not to say a single word to me. He would even bump directly into my shoulder in the corridor and then swagger away.
My mood didn't stay low for long just because Draco stopped talking to me. Miss Granger - I wasn't quite used to calling her Hermione yet - and I officially became friends. Along with that, my relationship with the Potter trio also improved a bit. They showed great interest in the Sectumsempra spell I used on Parkinson that day. I was almost certain they wanted to use this spell on the chains around Buckbeak.
"I can teach you. It's not difficult. But the problem is, if releasing Buckbeak could solve all the problems, Professor Hagrid would have done it long ago. What you're planning will get him into trouble, won't it? The Ministry of Magic will think he let Buckbeak go." I voiced my concerns to Hermione.
"We need the right timing, and luckily, we have it." She said something I didn't quite understand. "Iris, this spell makes very little noise, right? Not like the loud bang of a Blasting Curse?"
"Yes." Remembering how I almost brought down the house while secretly practicing during the summer vacation, I quickly added, "You must be careful when practicing. Don't use it on people. Also, I think you'd better not teach it to Potter and the others."
Days passed peacefully. Mom, who was on leave from work for recuperation, had a lot of time to write to me. In the past, it was a struggle for us to write to each other every two weeks because she was just too busy, and I was worried that my boring little things would distract her. But now, it was as if she wanted to make up for all the time we'd missed. She wrote me three letters in one week. As the final exams approached, parents had a lot of instructions. Many parents of fifth - and seventh - year students sent loads of care packages by owl, hoping their children would get better grades in the grade - level exams.
The owls in the school were extremely busy, and it was often hard to find an available one. Potter, who also came to send a letter, told me I could use his Hedwig anytime. Then, his dazzling white snowy owl pecked at me several times in dissatisfaction. It flew up high and turned its tail towards us. Potter explained to me awkwardly that it wasn't usually like this.
"You said I could use it as I pleased, which made it sad. I think you should apologize to it." I waved my hand with a smile, indicating that I didn't mind. "It's okay. Maybe I'll consider buying an owl during this vacation. Mom said she'll have plenty of time to write to me after she transferred to the Department of Magical Games and Sports."
My time was fully occupied. Reviewing lessons and serving detention took up almost all my spare time. I gradually mastered the skills to deal with Mandrakes proficiently and even thought they weren't that ugly. Finally, before the last exam, Professor Sprout told me I didn't need to help her anymore and said I did very well in Herbology.
The end of this school year was full of drama. First, Buckbeak suddenly disappeared right under the noses of the Ministry of Magic's executioners. Then, rumors that Professor Lupin was a werewolf started spreading rapidly among the students, and it was confirmed after Professor Lupin left Hogwarts. The Slytherins thought the Potter trio had stolen Buckbeak, while the Gryffindors believed Draco had spread the rumors about Professor Lupin out of anger. But neither side could find evidence. Anyway, Gryffindor and Slytherin never lacked things to feud over.
If it were before, I would have thought about what gift to give Draco before the summer vacation arrived. After all, no matter how much I considered it, I always felt that since he didn't really need anything I gave him, a potions book would be a good choice. I thought he was quite satisfied with the broomstick care kit I gave him at Christmas (although he still said he didn't need it), so I had to think carefully about something else for his birthday this time. But now it seemed that he might not be too willing to receive a birthday gift from me.
This year, Draco's birthday happened to be on the day when the grades were announced. In the Great Hall in the morning, apart from Hermione muttering about a question she got wrong in one of the exams, all that could be heard were the sounds of owls landing on the Slytherin table one after another. Draco had always enjoyed showing off in front of others. By the time we got our report cards from Professor McGonagall and were about to go back to our dormitories to enjoy the last day of our third - year, he was still leisurely unwrapping those exquisitely - wrapped gifts while showing them off.
The library on the last day of the school year was the quietest place in Hogwarts. I really liked this atmosphere. There were no anxious voices reciting books, nor any annoying, overly - affectionate couples giggling. I could freely read The Complete Book of Antidotes, which I had been flipping through for fun before. There were several potions written in it that I was interested in trying during the vacation. Only after carefully copying them all onto parchment and double - checking did I nod in satisfaction and plan to leave the library. When I looked up, I realized it was already dusk.
"What about my birthday gift?" The voice that suddenly came from behind me startled me as soon as I stood up.
I took out my wand, still in shock, and looked at Draco leaning against the bookshelf. The afterglow of the setting sun shone on his blond hair. I had no idea when he had stood there.
"What about my birthday gift?" He repeated in a stiff tone. "Didn't you prepare a birthday gift for me?"