Human sorrows and joys are not interlinked, and Professor Snape's demeanor was a testament to this. While the rest of Hogwarts celebrated the cancellation of the Defense Against the Dark Arts class, Snape had been walking around with a perpetual scowl for days. Many students whispered that he had entered some sort of "wizard menopause," though no one dared say it to his face.
In Potions class, the atmosphere was particularly tense. Snape's icy glare swept across the room, silencing even the boldest Slytherins. "Today, you will prepare a Swelling Solution," he announced, his voice dripping with disdain. "I expect perfection. Begin."
The students scrambled to gather their ingredients, their hands trembling under Snape's watchful eye. Harry, in particular, seemed to be in a hurry, chopping ingredients with reckless abandon as if he were in a cooking competition rather than a Potions class.
"Professor Snape seems... off today," Hermione whispered to David as she carefully measured her ingredients.
David nodded but didn't get a chance to respond before Snape appeared behind him, his shadow looming ominously. "Scamander," Snape sneered, "why are you standing there like a stunned flobberworm? Get to work, or do you expect me to do it for you?"
David quickly picked up his knife and began preparing the bat spleen, but Snape lingered, his eyes boring into David's every move. When he found no fault, he stalked off toward Harry, who was now sweating profusely.
"Potter!" Snape barked, his voice echoing through the dungeon. "Is this how you prepare a bat spleen? Are you brewing a potion or preparing dinner? Five points from Gryffindor!"
Malfoy snickered from across the room but quickly stifled his laughter when Snape's gaze flicked in his direction. The rest of the class proceeded in tense silence, with Snape prowling the room like a predator, ready to pounce on any mistake.
By the time the bell rang, the students were more than ready to escape. "Do you think Snape's gone mad?" Ron muttered as they walked to the Great Hall. "He's been unbearable lately. How am I supposed to pass Potions if he's like this every class?"
"Ron Weasley!" Snape's voice cut through the corridor like a knife. "Ten points from Gryffindor for slandering a professor."
Ron froze, his face pale. Snape swept past them, a faint smirk playing on his lips. David couldn't help but notice that deducting points seemed to have lifted Snape's spirits slightly.
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Later that Friday evening, David and Harry found themselves standing in the girls' bathroom, preparing to confront the basilisk in the Chamber of Secrets. Myrtle, the resident ghost, floated nearby, her translucent form hovering curiously.
"David, your friend is quite interesting," Myrtle said, batting her eyelashes at Harry. "He should visit more often."
David smirked. "I'll make sure to bring him by more often. I think Harry enjoys your company, don't you, Harry?"
Harry's face turned red, and he quickly changed the subject. "We should get moving. If Filch catches us, we're done for."
"Don't worry about Filch," David reassured him. "He's too busy with Mrs. Norris to patrol tonight. Fred and George confirmed it."
Myrtle hesitated when David invited her to join them. "I... I don't think I can," she said, her voice trembling. "Those yellow eyes... I can't face them again."
David nodded understandingly and led Harry to the sink with the serpentine faucet. "Alright, Harry, it's your turn. Show me what you've learned."
Harry took a deep breath and hissed at the faucet. The sink began to spin, revealing a dark, gaping pipe. David peered inside, his wand at the ready. "I'll go first. Stay close, and remember—close your eyes when I tell you."
The slide down the pipe was long and slimy, and David landed with a splash in a damp, dimly lit tunnel. Harry followed, tumbling into the muck. "You really need to work on your landings," David said, cleaning Harry off with a quick Scouring Charm.
The tunnel was lined with bones, and the air was thick with the stench of decay. As they ventured deeper, a massive shape loomed ahead. Harry froze, but David reassured him. "It's just a shed snakeskin. The basilisk isn't here."
Harry relaxed slightly, but his nerves returned as they approached the Chamber's entrance. Two stone serpents coiled around the door, their emerald eyes glinting in the dim light. Harry hissed at them, and the door slid open, revealing a vast, shadowy chamber.
David stepped inside, his wand illuminating the room. Towering stone pillars lined the walls, each carved with serpentine figures. At the far end stood a colossal statue of Salazar Slytherin, his stern face gazing down at them.
"Stay here," David instructed Harry. He summoned an invisible creature to scout the room, but there was no sign of the basilisk. It seemed to be asleep.
David handed Harry a note from Dumbledore. "Read this in Parseltongue. When you hear the basilisk, close your eyes. I'll handle the rest."
Harry nodded and hissed the words: "Speak to me, Slytherin, greatest of the Hogwarts Four."
The statue's mouth began to open, and the basilisk emerged, its massive green body gliding down the stone. David quickly told Harry to close his eyes and watched through the invisible creature as the basilisk approached, its yellow eyes glowing ominously.
The basilisk slithered closer, its forked tongue flicking out as it sensed their presence. David held his breath, waiting for the right moment. When the basilisk was within range, he whispered, "Now, Harry. Command it to turn its head."
Harry hissed again, and the basilisk reluctantly obeyed, turning its head away. David seized the opportunity, summoning the rooster he had brought. The bird let out a loud crow, and the basilisk froze, its body trembling in fear.