Chapter 52. Professor Snape, Are You Here to Look at the Moon Too?
After Harry left, Adrian Wesson stayed where he was for a moment.
It wasn't because he liked standing in the corridor catching a cold breeze, but because—
In the dark, a pair of eyes was watching him.
"Professor Snape, are you here to look at the moon too?" Adrian turned round and offered an awkward smile toward a pitch-black corner.
Sure enough, as the words left his mouth, a figure slowly stepped out from the shadows of the corridor.
The black robes all but merged with the gloom around him; one could only just make out his sallow, brooding face.
Adrian thought: this is bad.
He hadn't noticed at all that Snape had been standing nearby.
Worse, he didn't know when Snape had come.
It was entirely possible that his conversation with Harry just now had been heard from start to finish.
With that thought, Adrian briefly reviewed what he'd said earlier.
Hmm. Nothing that would set him off—quite in line with how two older students were remembered among the lower years back then.
After all, everyone knew that Gryffindor's James Potter and Slytherin's Severus Snape were constantly at each other's throats.
As for Harry's mother—that was another matter entirely.
Adrian reckoned that if he so much as mentioned Harry's mother, what awaited him wouldn't be Snape's icy stare, but a silent slash of Sectumsempra.
That wasn't something he ought to pry into.
"The moon, is it..." Snape glanced toward the window.
Unfortunately, the weather wasn't clear tonight. Thick clouds hid the moon, not a glimmer of light showing through.
Seeing this, Adrian made his smile look as natural as possible, shrugged, then turned to head for the Great Hall behind Snape. "I suppose I should be going—before the House-Elves clear away the food from my table..."
However, before he could finish, Snape cut in, coldly: "You seem to know quite a lot about the past, Professor Wesson."
Adrian turned his head and saw Snape fixing him with a terrifying stare.
Adrian's smile froze for a second, then quickly returned to normal. "Only stories I've heard. After all, Hogwarts students do like to gossip, don't they?"
Snape didn't answer at once. His knife-edged gaze looked as if it meant to peel Adrian open from the inside out, enough to send a chill down anyone's spine.
Adrian didn't think he was any less capable than Snape.
If it came to a fight, Snape wouldn't have the upper hand against him either.
Two years after graduating, Snape returned to Hogwarts and became the Potions Professor.
It had to be said: Snape's talent in Potions was outstanding.
Adrian had even attended Snape's N.E.W.T.-level advanced class.
As everyone knows, professors naturally exert a pressure on students.
Adrian was no exception.
Back then, he'd often been singled out by Snape in class.
...
At last, Snape spoke.
Though calling it a warning would be more accurate.
"Professor Wesson, with some matters, knowing too much does you no good," Snape said, giving Adrian a dangerous look, his words a threat. "Do not say more than you should. Do not do more than you should. It is enough for you to do what a professor ought to do."
Adrian's fingers unconsciously rubbed at his cuff. He showed a helpless smile.
"What could I possibly know?" he said. "I really should be going, Professor."
This time, Snape did not block Adrian's way. He narrowed his eyes, the corners of his mouth pulling slightly down. "I'll be watching you, Wesson... Professor."
With that, he gave a cold snort, flicked his pitch-black robes, and left.
...
Watching Snape walk away, Adrian sighed on the spot.
Great. Looked like something unclean had set its sights on him.
Worse still, when Adrian returned to the Great Hall, he found that all the plates had already been cleared—his place included.
He hadn't had a single bite!
Adrian stood before the empty house table, staring at the spotlessly tidy surface, feeling even more wretched than when Snape had just set his sights on him.
Seemed he'd have to make use of Hufflepuff's fine traditional skill.
Go to the kitchens and rustle up some food!
Adrian deftly navigated the long corridors toward the kitchens.
Hogwarts' kitchens were near the Hufflepuff common room; nearly every Hufflepuff student knew their location like the back of their hand.
Adrian was no exception. Without taking a single wrong stair, he reached the kitchen door.
There hung a painting of a bowl full of fruit.
All you had to do was tickle the pear, and a handle would appear.
However, when Adrian arrived, the pear in the painting had already become a doorknob.
Obviously, someone had gone into the kitchen before him.
Even so, Adrian wasn't surprised. Someone getting peckish and coming down to the kitchens was as normal as could be.
He pushed the door open and entered. Several House-Elves noticed him at once, put down what they were doing, and looked over.
One House-Elf with ears so large they nearly drooped to the floor came over and asked, a little nervously, "Professor, do you need anything?"
"Hmm..." Adrian glanced around, then said, "I'm just hungry and would like something to eat. Just a little food will do, Tata."
At Adrian's reply, Tata's eyes lit up at once. "The Professor remembers Tata's name—Tata is truly honoured!"
In fact, back when he was a student, Adrian could call out the names of almost all the House-Elves—only it had been so long that he'd forgotten most of them.
Tata was one of the few he still remembered.
"Same taste as before, Tata. I hope you still remember." Adrian gave Tata a smile.
Tata nodded excitedly and bustled off. Before long, he brought a plate of beef pasties.
"Easy on the onions! Professor, Tata hasn't forgotten."
Adrian took the plate, satisfied.
House-Elves were simply wonderful!
Such excellent helpers!
The sight rekindled Adrian's desire to have a House-Elf of his own.
"By the way," Adrian asked Tata casually before leaving, "did anyone come by before me?"
At his question, Tata blinked and, with hardly any hesitation, said, "Yes, Professor Quirrell came."
Quirrell?
Adrian couldn't help feeling puzzled—he'd seen Quirrell in the Great Hall this evening.
Could it be that Quirrell, like him, had missed dinner for some reason?
"Professor Quirrell? What did he come for?" Adrian asked without thinking.
Tata shook his head and frowned. "Hmm... When Professor Quirrell came to the kitchens, he didn't seem to ask for anything. He only said he was having a look round, then he had a walk through the kitchens and the storeroom."
Hearing this, Adrian nodded to Tata and smiled. "All right. Thank you, Tata."
"Tata is very happy to be of help to you!"
...
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