Chapter 37: Rita Skeeter

Chapter 37: Rita Skeeter

Friday. Hogwarts Dungeons. Potions Classroom.

Leon sat in his usual spot at the very front of the classroom. Unlike previous lessons, however, he wasn't alone today. Several others were crowded around him.

"Do I really have to sit here, Hermione?" Ron whispered, nervously glancing towards the classroom door and swallowing hard. "Just thinking about being this close to Professor Snape makes my legs tremble."

Harry didn't look much more comfortable. "I agree with Ron... You've all seen it. Snape doesn't just dislike me, he hates me."

"Be quiet, Ron! You too, Harry!" Hermione hissed. "Fifteen points! Gryffindor lost fifteen points because of us! We have to find a way to earn them back."

She shot a determined look at Leon, a competitive fire burning in her eyes. Hermione silently vowed to snatch every single opportunity to answer a question away from Shelby.

Leon found the situation rather amusing. Hermione really didn't need to worry. At the end of the year, Dumbledore would conjure up plenty of excuses to award Gryffindor a mountain of points. From the moment Harry Potter stepped into Hogwarts, the House Cup was destined for Gryffindor.

"Oh, Harry," Leon leaned over, lowering his voice. "Don't rush off after class. I need to speak with you about something. It should take about two hours."

Harry nodded vaguely, not even asking what it was about.

"Si... lence..."

Snape's distinctive, drawn-out voice hissed from the doorway, sounding like a dying man's last breath. "If you do not wish your weekend assignment to be a four-foot essay... you will refrain from making even the slightest sound!"

The classroom instantly fell silent, except for Ron, who was groaning beside Harry. "My calf is cramping... help me, help me..."

Without even showing his face, Snape had made one thing perfectly clear: he was in a foul mood today. Everyone needed to be extra careful.

Instead of gliding into the room like a giant bat as usual, Snape limped in, his face darker than a Bulgarian Bog Hag's curse.

As he stalked past the front row, Harry muttered, "Can you smell that? Strong smell of herbs."

"Potter!" Snape snapped, whirling around, his black eyes fixing on Harry. "Tell me, why can unicorn tail hair exceeding three inches in length not be used in potions?"

Harry blinked, looking pleadingly at Ron, only to find him still grimacing and clutching his leg. Before he could seek help elsewhere, Snape's sarcastic voice lashed out.

"I thought, daring to sit right under my nose, you might have acquired some modicum of sense. If only your brain were as impressive as your reputation."

Snape seemed particularly venomous today. Usually, it was just verbal abuse, but today he dished out actual punishment.

"An essay! Four feet long! Due on Monday! Perhaps that will encourage the famous Mr. Potter to spend his weekend quietly... in the library."

Leon inwardly rolled his eyes. If you want Harry to stay put because you sense danger, just say so. Don't hide behind pointless assignments.

Harry was too stunned by the unfairness of it all to speak.

"And you, Weasley!" Snape snarled, turning on Ron. "Did you sit at the front merely to perform acrobatics for my amusement? Sit up straight! Idiot!"

Ron looked like he was about to cry, his face flushing an even deeper red than his hair.

Snape then shot a cold glare at Hermione, but the little witch met his gaze defiantly, her eyes flashing with anger. With a sneer, Snape moved on.

Finally, his scrutiny fell upon Leon.

Leon met Snape's dark, hostile gaze with perfect calm.

After a long moment, Snape spoke, his voice dangerously soft. "Turn to... page sixty-eight."

The tense atmosphere made the ninety-minute Potions lesson feel like an eternity. Even the Slytherins felt oppressed.

Hermione kept trying to earn points for Gryffindor, practically shoving her hand in Snape's face. But it was useless; he ignored her completely, treating her as if she were invisible.

When the bell finally rang, signalling the end of class, a collective sigh of relief swept through the dungeon as Snape limped out.

"It was just a cramp! I couldn't help it! How could he yell at me like that? Why hasn't Dumbledore sacked him?" Ron complained bitterly.

Hermione looked equally furious, her face flushed. "There were questions only I had my hand up for, and he just ignored me! It's completely unfair!"

"Oh, give it a rest, you two!" Harry, arguably the biggest victim, finally spoke up. "Ron, getting yelled at doesn't cost you anything. Hermione, you'll have other chances to earn points. I'm the one who's truly suffering!"

The light had gone out of Harry's eyes. "Four feet! Four whole feet! My entire weekend is ruined, and I still might not finish it! What did I ever do to him?"

Just the petty revenge of a bitter man, Leon answered silently.

"Alright, just stay out of trouble this weekend," Leon advised Harry. "Go to the library, do your essay. If you haven't finished by Monday, just look Snape in the eye with a suitably pathetic expression. I guarantee he won't give you too much grief."

He clapped Harry on the shoulder. "Come on. Let's go deal with that other matter. If we're quick, we can still make it to lunch in the Great Hall."

Harry seemed to pull himself together. He gathered his things, said goodbye to Ron and Hermione, and followed Leon out of the dungeon.

"The person we're meeting is a reporter," Leon explained as they walked. "She'll ask you some simple questions. Just answer truthfully."

Harry looked completely bewildered but didn't ask questions. Leon offered no further explanation. Soon, they arrived at an empty classroom.

Leon turned and straightened Harry's suit jacket, then stepped back to look him over. Black suit, polished shoes, flat cap.

"Excellent. Very sharp," Leon said approvingly. "Just be confident."

He pushed open the door, leading the still-confused Harry inside. A shrill female voice immediately greeted them.

"Oh, my goodness! It really is the boy!"

"Such a pleasure to finally meet you. I'm Rita Skeeter."