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Chapter 125
"You—!"
George's sharp words left Snape stunned. He threw a punch with all his strength, but it felt like hitting cotton. He staggered slightly, momentarily speechless.
Harry, meanwhile, was secretly delighted. His face remained tense and composed, but the corners of his eyes lifted uncontrollably, filled with joy.
He couldn't help but think how wonderful it would be if he could deal with Snape as effortlessly as George did. But then again, George did have that confidence and ability—and he wasn't afraid of Snape at all. He didn't even need to attend Snape's classes. Every assignment and experiment he completed surpassed the standard answers.
With that kind of strength, why would he need to care about anyone's attitude? But if Snape ever targeted him directly, he would surely fly into a rage, deduct points, and throw him out of class. For Snape, that would be no small matter.
"Headmaster, I believe Potter and the others are not telling the whole truth," Snape said darkly, finally abandoning the troublesome issue of George. After all, it was easier to target someone weaker.
Turning to Dumbledore, he continued, "We should revoke some of Potter's privileges until he is willing to tell the truth. I suggest removing him from the Gryffindor Quidditch team until he changes his attitude."
Harry's face turned red, his expression completely devoid of humor. His eyes burned with cold fury.
Damn you, Snape.
Hatred surged within him. At the same time, he thought of the team's grueling training. Wood had carefully devised tactics to counter Slytherin's broom advantage, and everyone had poured their heart into practice.
Fred had pushed himself to the limit, determined to prove the superiority of the "Cleansweep Seven" against the Nimbus 2001. Though usually lively and carefree, he hadn't made a single mistake during training. He had given everything for this match.
Katie Bell, Alicia Spinnet, and Angelina Johnson—though girls—trained even harder than the boys. Under Wood's intense regimen, they had endured tremendous effort and hardship just to secure their places on the team.
Harry carried not only their hard work, but also their hopes. Everyone had given their all for the upcoming match against Slytherin. All of it was to give him a chance. He had to win.
And now, just as their efforts were about to pay off, Snape wanted to destroy everything with a single decision.
Harry couldn't bear the thought. If he were expelled from the team now, how devastated his teammates would be. Without a Seeker, there wouldn't even be time to find a replacement. All their effort, sweat, and hope would be erased in an instant.
They probably wouldn't blame him. They'd blame bad luck, or Snape's bias. They would comfort him, tell him it wasn't his fault.
But that kindness—that understanding—would hurt him even more.
He had endured injustice and suffering before. But what he couldn't endure was his friends' gentleness. That gentleness was their hope, their trust, their love.
How could he let all of that be destroyed?
Rage surged from his feet to the top of his head, engulfing his entire body like flames. And yet, he felt no heat.
A strange, furious smile appeared on Harry's face.
If Snape dares hurt my friends, I won't let him go. No matter what nonsense he brings up… no matter who my father was.
Fortunately, things did not spiral further. Harry was not alone, and Snape was not the whole world.
"You cannot do that, Severus," Professor McGonagall said sharply. "We have no reason to deprive a student of their right to play, nor to take away the results of their hard work. There is no evidence that Potter has done anything wrong. This is not some trivial matter."
Though strict, McGonagall was not cruel. If students made mistakes, she would deduct points without hesitation—but she would never harm them without cause.
She knew how hard the Gryffindor team had trained. She was proud of them. She would never allow Snape to abuse his authority to harm these hardworking students.
Dumbledore fixed his gaze on Harry, meeting his bright blue eyes. Harry did not flinch, even though he felt as though that gaze pierced straight through him.
He would not betray his teammates' expectations. He would not betray their efforts.
Perhaps it was the determination in Harry's eyes… or the hope… or even the anger…
Dumbledore finally spoke firmly, "There is no evidence of your guilt. You are innocent, Severus."
Snape's expression darkened further, his face turning livid with anger. He had tried every method to deal with this boy, yet nothing ever worked. The boy was always protected—always favored—just like him.
Just like that man whose name he refused to speak.
That man had once tried to kill him… yet ultimately saved his life. Snape owed him a life debt, the result of that man's cunning schemes. Those shameless tricks always succeeded—whether it was making Snape indebted or deceiving Lily.
The thought made Snape want to torment Harry on the spot.
"Mrs. Norris is petrified!" Filch suddenly screamed, his voice shrill, veins bulging in his eyes. "I'll make others feel the same pain she did!"
At this moment, Filch hated his own helplessness more than anything. He could only watch as Mrs. Norris lay there, stiff and lifeless.
To everyone else, she was just an ugly cat.
But to him, she was everything.
(To be continued…)