Chapter 150: The Canary Cream Crisis
Malfoy had never felt such bone-deep cold. He shivered uncontrollably, and it wasn't just from the snow. The figure looming in black robes was like a thunderhead about to burst. Everyone knew a storm was coming.
Malfoy couldn't understand it. He had specifically avoided Green. He had gone out of his way to stay clear. This level of caution was unthinkable before he came to Hogwarts, and now, he bitterly regretted not choosing Durmstrang...
His knees knocked together. Beside him, Crabbe and Goyle looked ready to faint from sheer terror, which only heightened his own fear.
In this dire stillness, Professor Snape spoke.
"Heh—orphan..."
The word sounded like a whisper from the depths of hell.
As Harry and Ron left the Quidditch pitch, they spotted Sean, Justin, and Neville trudging through the snow nearby. The greenhouses were close to the pitch, both situated behind the castle.
"Is that... Sean?" Harry asked, his words turning into white puffs in the frigid air, muffled by his scarf.
"...Anyway, Snape is definitely a... yeah, that's Sean, Justin, and Neville. Oh, and Hermione would be there too if she didn't have ten books to read..." Ron replied, still listing Snape's various acts of cruelty.
"So... us?" Harry realized there was a group activity he hadn't been told about.
"Harry... you didn't know? Oh! Of course you didn't! You're always at Quidditch practice," Ron shouted over the howling wind.
"Greenhouse needs..." Harry's voice was lost in the gale.
"Of course they need help! Neville always comes back looking like death!"
The two exchanged a look, a silent agreement passing between them.
The snow fell heavier. The greenhouses demanded constant attention. Snargaluff pods needed squeezing regularly in winter. More importantly, they had to be heated over a flame until bright red before squeezing; touch a cold pod, and the sharp, wriggling seeds inside would explode. Wrestling pods from a violent, whip-wielding Snargaluff wasn't easy. Bruce and the older Hufflepuffs handled that dangerous task in Greenhouse Three. Sean and his friends often heard their screams—or rather, Bruce screaming and Leon laughing.
In front of the domed buildings, Justin was about to push open the door. Behind him, Neville was shyly sharing a tip on plant handling with Sean. Sean, snowflakes clinging to his eyelashes, nodded, his Quick-Quotes Quill scribbling notes, making Neville beam with bashful pride.
"Sean!"
"Sean!"
Two shouts echoed as the greenhouse door opened. Harry and Ron came running, yelling against the wind. Professor Sprout, who had just opened the door to Greenhouse Three from the inside, beamed.
Ah... wonderful, simply wonderful...
"Congratulations, you've discovered the Room of Hope's secret mission—Greenhouse One welcomes you. Gloves are on the shelf, don't forget them," Justin said with a warm smile.
"Right!" Ron panted, instantly energized by Justin's words.
"You can't imagine, we just escaped Snape's clutches..." As he pulled on gloves, Ron, flushed with excitement and unsure what else to say, defaulted to their previous topic. "One tiny mistake, and he takes points from Gryffindor—and Neville, he treats Neville like a punching bag! Today, he was in such a foul mood, ha! Even Malfoy didn't escape..."
Hearing Ron mention Snape, Neville went pale and trembled.
"He must hate me. He doesn't realize that except for those boot-licking Slytherins, no one actually... likes him," Harry said through gritted teeth.
Justin frowned. While Snape was undeniably harsh, his teaching ability was unquestionable. But thinking of Snape's behavior, he stayed silent.
Unbeknownst to them, a figure in billowing black robes stood in the distant snow, watching with an unreadable purpose. His dark eyes flicked disdainfully over Harry and Ron before settling on a pair of green eyes.
"...He's just not a good person! He's a loner because no one can stand him!" Ron muttered.
Harry nodded in agreement. They filed into the greenhouse. Harry turned back, wanting to add something.
Then he heard a very quiet voice.
"Harry, even if this world has no place for Professor Snape, by what right do we judge his soul?"
Sean met Harry's gaze for a moment, then sighed softly and entered the greenhouse.
Harry stood frozen. He rarely saw such a complex look, filled with unspoken depths. He suddenly remembered what Hermione had told him—it wasn't Snape trying to kill him.
A shiver ran through him. Then... who?
The black-robed figure was gone from the snow. Only the memory remained of where he had stood, watching green eyes in the cold winter.
They were so alike.
"Well then, gentlemen! Looks like we'll finish early today!" Professor Sprout was as enthusiastic as ever, checking everyone's gloves for safety.
Just as they were excitedly preparing to start, a tremendous crash came from Greenhouse Three, followed by a panicked scream:
"Merlin's beard—Canary Creams really do turn you into a canary!"
Professor Sprout's face fell, and she rushed out.
Harry and Ron looked at each other. Sean and the others were already peering into Greenhouse Three.
Vines were thrashing wildly inside. A pale-faced Bruce was dodging frantically, clutching a yellow canary. With nowhere left to run, he tossed the canary into the air, yelling, "Pister, remember I saved your life!" before being promptly knocked unconscious by a Snargaluff vine.
Professor Sprout, looking pale herself, levitated the "sleeping" Bruce out.
Inside the greenhouse, the canary suddenly molted and transformed back into a red-faced, furious Pister.
"What... happened?" Justin asked. Sean, spotting biscuit crumbs in Pister's hand, had a pretty good idea.
"That idiot! While Pister and I were controlling the Snargaluff, he fed Pister some random biscuit! Hah—!" Leon was livid—he almost never swore in front of Sean.
(End of Chapter)
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