Snape's unexpected intervention sent ripples of surprise through the gathered crowd, catching even Professor McGonagall off guard. The stern Potions Master had never been known to come to the aid of students, especially not Harry and Ron, whom he had often clashed with in the past.
McGonagall couldn't help but raise an eyebrow at Snape's uncharacteristic display of concern, her thoughts swirling with skepticism. After all, Snape's history with Harry and Ron, marked by deducting Gryffindor points and exchanging sharp words, hardly suggested a benevolent nature.
Ron, his eyes wide with disbelief, shot Harry a grateful look, silently acknowledging Snape's unexpected act of kindness. Harry's own expression mirrored Ron's astonishment, incredulous that Snape would speak up on their behalf.
The memory of their recent scrape with the Whomping Willow flashed through Harry's mind, the narrow escape from Snape's detection still fresh in his thoughts. As Snape approached, Harry's hand instinctively reached into his pocket, fingers brushing against the vial of potion Luke had given him.
Perhaps, with a bit of luck and some quick thinking, Harry mused, he could avoid losing too many house points.
Bathed in the silvery glow of the moonlight, Snape's stern features softened slightly as he reached the spot where Harry and Ron stood. His lips parted, as if to reprimand them, but no words came forth.
"Why were they so alike?" Snape wondered inwardly, his mind grappling with the uncanny resemblance between Harry and his late father, James Potter. The sight stirred conflicting emotions within him, a mixture of resentment and unexpected empathy.
Cursing under his breath, Snape ushered the two boys back to the safety of the auditorium, the broken branches of the Whomping Willow serving as a silent testament to their escapade. As they made their way back, Snape couldn't help but marvel at the ingenuity of the Transfiguration spell that had transformed Harry's appearance, even as he nursed a newfound respect for the young wizard's resourcefulness.
Meanwhile, the angered whispers of the willow echoed through the night air, a testament to the indignity it had suffered at the hands of an old Ford and the mischievous duo it had failed to ensnare.
"However, they've violated the Wizarding Statute and Hogwarts rules, and at least seven Muggles have witnessed the flying car!" Professor McGonagall's tone remained unwavering, despite Snape's mysterious mood.
It was an unprecedented situation at Hogwarts, and the severity of their transgression weighed heavily.
"They've faced enough repercussions," McGonagall declared firmly, her words striking Harley like a heavy blow, her emerald eyes betraying her despair.
It was the last punishment she had hoped to endure.
Dumbledore, ever the enigmatic figure, stood silently in the center, observing Snape's departure with keen interest.
"...I'll handle the matter with the Muggles, that's all," Snape coldly interjected before making his exit, disappearing into the depths of Slytherin's dungeon.
As McGonagall watched Snape's retreating form, her expression softened with a hint of complexity, struggling to comprehend Snape's insistence.
"Since Severus has spoken, no points shall be deducted," Dumbledore announced softly, turning his attention to Harry and Ron, who stood with bowed heads.
"You two must tread carefully from now on," Dumbledore cautioned.
Professor McGonagall sighed helplessly as the dinner drew to a close, the new students now satiated.
Embarrassed, Harry and Ron remained seated at the Gryffindor table, picking at the remnants of their meal.
Luke and Fred, opting to linger, took nearby seats, joining the conversation.
"Are you truly Harry?" Ginny asked in disbelief, her gaze fixed on Harley's emerald-like eyes.
"It's the potion's doing, but yes, I am Harry Potter," Harry replied wearily, enduring Ginny's repeated inquiries.
"It's the first time I've seen Snape like that!" Fred chuckled, recalling Snape's peculiar demeanor.
"I wonder what got into him after seeing Harry?" George mused, equally puzzled.
Luke, privy to the truth, remained solemn, taking a sip of his black tea infused with honey, his eyes half-closed in contemplation.
Snape's demeanor wasn't about Harry's mother—a sobering realization for the sorrowful couple.
Lost in thought, Luke was suddenly startled when he withdrew his hand from his pocket and found several photos in it. Without a doubt, they were sent by his frog cub, who had been absent for nearly two months.
With Hermione beside him, Luke turned to her and calmly glanced at the photos. The first one depicted a dense forest, featuring his frog cub and a small white snake—the friend it had made in another world.
The second photo left Luke stunned. It depicted a dark room filled with various human organs and test-tube instruments, with a tall, thin figure performing an operation with a scalpel.
"Interesting, what world did the frog cub go to this time?" Luke mused, his curiosity piqued.
Patiently, he examined the last photo—a row of coffins with numbers one, two, and four. In front of the coffins stood a man with a feminine appearance, adorned with long eyeshadow, pale skin, and golden eyes resembling snakes. A cold smile graced his face.
Luke was taken aback. "Isn't that Orochimaru?" he muttered to himself. His frog cub had visited this world several times before, each time surprising him with its adventures.
Uncertain of what to expect this time, an idea suddenly dawned on Luke as he examined the photos. Comparing the time indicated on them to the last photo he received, he noted a shift of half a month. It seemed the travel time had been unusually long this time, spanning about a month.
Having raised frog cubs for nearly eleven years, Luke found this situation to be unprecedented.
"Luke!" A pleasant voice interrupted his thoughts. Startled, Luke turned his head to see Miss Hermione gently pinching his cheek.
"You've been drinking honey again!" she exclaimed with a playful smile, pointing to his glass of black tea, which had mysteriously migrated to her side.
Realizing his inadvertent action, Luke sheepishly glanced at his glass. "You caught me stealing my own black tea!" he chuckled, feeling a warmth spread through him at Hermione's playful antics.
.....
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