On the eve of the game, it was stormy and stormy, more severe than before. The corridors and classrooms were dark, so we had to light more torches and lights. Slytherin is really complacent, and no one can match Malfoy in this respect.
"Oh, if only my arms were better!" He sighed, as the wind outside hit the window.
In Harry's mind, except Werewolves. " Said Snape.
"But, sir," said Hermione, seemingly unable to control herself, "we should not learn from werewolves yet, we should start learning from hink punk..."
"Miss Granger," said Snape, in a dead calm voice, "I feel like I'm teaching, not you. I tell you all, turn to "quiet!" Snape said quietly, "that's a good explanation. I never thought I would meet a third grader who couldn't recognize a werewolf. I want to write it down and tell Professor Dumbledore how backward you are... "
Snape turned his back on them and never looked back. However, everyone was very used to the scene. Snape didn't like to be answered.
Everyone is afraid to speak. Snape's authority still exists. No one wants to enjoy the same treatment as Neville, Harry and Ron in his potion class. It's too painful.
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