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Potter, although you have evidently decided that the wearing of school robes would detract from your appearance." "I couldn't change, I didn't have my —" Harry began, but Snape cut across him.
"There is no need to wait, Nymphadora, Potter is quite — ah — safe in my hands." "I meant Hagrid to get the message," said Tonks, frowning.
"Hagrid was late for the start-of-term feast, just like Potter here, so I took it instead. And incidentally," said Snape, standing back to allow Harry to pass him, "I was interested to see your new Patronus." He shut the gates in her face with a loud clang and tapped the chains with his wand again, so that they slithered, clinking, back into place.
"I think you were better off with the old one," said Snape, the malice in his voice unmistakable. "The new one looks weak." As Snape swung the lantern about, Harry saw, fleetingly, a look of shock and anger on Tonks's face. Then she was covered in darkness once more.
"Good night," Harry called to her over his shoulder, as he began the walk up to the school with Snape. "Thanks for ... everything," "See you, Harry." Snape did not speak for a minute or so. Harry felt as though his body was generating waves of hatred so powerful that it seemed incredibie that Snape could not feel them burning him. He had loathed Snape from their first encounter, but Snape had placed himself forever and irrevocably beyond the possibility of Harry's forgiveness by his attitude toward Sirius. Whatever Dumbledore said, Harry had had time to think over the summer, and had concluded that Snape's snide remarks to Sirius about remaining safely hidden while the rest of the Order of the Phoenix were off fighting Voldemort had probably been a powerful factor in Sirius rushing off to the Ministry the night that he had died. Harry clung to this notion, because it enabled him to blame Snape, which felt satisfying, and also because he knew that if anyone was not sorry that Sirius was dead, it was the man now striding next to him in the darkness.
“Fifty points from Gryffindor for lateness, I think," said Snape. “And, let me see, another twenty for your Muggle attire. You know, I don’t believe any House has ever been in negative figures this early in the term: We haven't even started pudding. You might have set a record, Potter." The fury and hatred bubbling inside Harry seemed to blaze white-hot, but he would rather have been immobilized all the way back to London than tell Snape why he was late.
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