Fern to stay with Harry in their quarters, while he went to hand out class schedules and grab a quick bite before he was due at his first class.

Breakfast was just about over when he arrived, however, so all he got for his trouble was a lukewarm cup of coffee. He spelled it hot again, but the resulting bitterness made him waspish. McGonagall, in particular, gave him wide berth. After a half dozen unsatisfying sips, he swooped down upon the Slytherin table and passed out schedules, ignoring the early morning whining of his students as they perused their timetables.

With only minutes before his first class, he hurried to the dungeon, robes billowing behind him in his haste. As he flew to class, he heard more than one comment about his likeness to a Great Black Bat. The idea made him smirk, and he put an extra bit of billow in his stride as he slammed open the door of the potions classroom, startling the third year combined class of Gryffindors and Slytherins so that they jumped almost as one in their seats and turned to stare at him.

He cast his gaze over the class, catching this one's eyes, then that one's, staring each of them down in turn. After he was sure they were all attentive, and suitably leery of him, he pitched his voice to a near whisper. 'There will be no foolish wand waving here,' he began . . .

---

'Where's my father?' Harry asked again.

Nelli cocked her head to the side, her big eyes sympathetic, though her voice was firm as she said, 'Master Snape is teaching his class, Master Harry. And he is wanting you to eat your breakfast.'

'I'm not hungry.' His stomach hurt, like there were butterflies swarming around in there, and he didn't want to eat. He just wanted his father back.

'You is not supposed to be skipping your breakfast, Master Harry.'

'I'm not skipping—'

'And you is not supposed to be whining, either,' Nelli continued.

'I'm not. I just want my Daddy.' His eyes filled with tears; he couldn't make them stop, even though he'd been feeling like this all morning. It was weird, really; he'd never cried so much in his whole life. 'Why can't he come home and be with me?'

'Master Snape is teaching his class, Master Harry,' Nelli said again. 'But after you is eating your breakfast, Nelli can take you to visit Mister Hagrid and the slobbery dog, yes?'

'Don' wanna.'

'Master Harry,' Nelli chided. 'Mister Hagrid is missing you, Nelli thinks. He is saying two days ago he is wanting to see you again soon.'

Still sitting at the little table in their kitchen, Harry poked at his sausage and eggs, swirling them around on the plate. His toast lay to the side, untouched.

'Master Harry?'

'Okay,' he said dully.

'You are eating your breakfast first, Master Snape says.'

'Okay.' He poked at the eggs a bit more, taking two bites before he gave Nelli a pleading look. ''M really not hungry,' he told her.

Nelli tutted at the plate, but nodded, and Harry slid off his chair and, after donning his light cloak followed her outside. The day was cloudy, with a slight chill and the hint of mist in the breeze that blew across the grounds. Morning dew clung to the grass, still, and Harry's shoes were soaked, socks as well, within minutes of their descent from the castle. But Harry hardly noticed.

As they neared Hagrid's hut, Fang launched himself at them, and Harry pushed his nose away as the boarhound tried to lick his face off. 'Down, Fang,' he said, instead of laughing like he usually did. Fang obeyed.

''Arry!' a loud voice exclaimed from the garden in back of the hut. 'Good ter see ye, lad. Come in, have a cuppa with me and Fang.'

'Hi, Hagrid,' Harry said. 'I'm not real

Вы читаете Whelp II The Wrath of Snape
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