Snape and Abbott left the castle together, crossing the lush vegetable garden toward the greenhouses, where various magical plants were cultivated.
As they approached, a number of students were already gathered on the lawn in small groups, waiting for Professor Sprout.
From a distance, Snape caught sight of the Whomping Willow. At that moment, it was leisurely stretching its branches in the breeze, its new leaves almost translucent under the sunlight.
His thoughts were pulled back to a full moon night in the previous term.
Incited by Sirius's malicious "prank," Snape had jabbed the knot on the Whomping Willow's trunk with a long stick and entered the tunnel leading to the Shrieking Shack.
At the other end of the tunnel, in a hurried glance, he had seen a werewolf,fangs bared, beastlike and savage.
Just before he was about to be mauled, James Potter had rushed in and yanked him back.
Thus, James had saved his life.
But Snape remembered clearly that later, when Pettigrew escaped in the chaos, Dumbledore had told Harry,"When one wizard saves another's life, a certain bond is created between them."
Afterwards, Pettigrew had even been strangled to death by his own silver hand, in front of Harry, in the most bizarre fashion.
So unease stirred in Snape's heart. He worried whether such a bond might one day lead to unforeseen, uncontrollable consequences.
"What are you daydreaming about?" Abbott nudged him with his elbow.
"Nothing."
Snape came back to his senses and looked up toward the crowd.
Remus Lupin,currently in human form,stood there, looking pale and exhausted.
Snape thought privately that this was likely because the full moon had just passed a few days ago, and Lupin must have endured another painful transformation.
While Snape's thoughts wandered, Professor Sprout strode across the lawn.
She was a squat witch with flyaway hair tucked under a patched hat, her clothes always spattered with soil, and she favored smiling cheerfully at everyone.
"Today, we'll be in Greenhouse Three," Professor Sprout said brightly. "From now on, we'll be learning about some even more interesting plants there."
The students murmured with curiosity. Before sixth year, they had only entered Greenhouse Three once.
Compared with the familiar Greenhouse One, the plants in Greenhouse Three were not only more interesting, but also more dangerous.
Professor Sprout drew a large key from her belt and opened the door.
Snape caught the scent of damp earth and fertilizer mixed with a heady floral fragrance. Some of the flowers were as large as Hagrid's umbrella, hanging down from the ceiling.
Professor Sprout walked to the middle of the greenhouse, behind a bench upon which lay about a dozen pairs of earmuffs in various colors.
Once the students had all filed in, she cleared her throat and said, "Today we'll be repotting Mandrakes. Now, who remembers the properties of Mandrakes?"
After two weeks of lessons, Snape noticed that students from every House could hardly be bothered to raise their hands anymore,since someone would always blurt out the answer.
"Mandrakes, also called Mandrake roots, are a powerful restorative. They are a vital ingredient in most antidotes, but they are also dangerous..."
"Yes, that's right," Snape muttered inwardly, "'Absolutely correct, ten points to Gryffindor!'"
"Very good, ten points to Gryffindor," Professor Sprout said, exactly as expected. "It seems you haven't forgotten what I taught you in your second year."
But looking at the hundred or so green-and-purple seedlings before him, Snape thought it best to wait until this batch of Mandrakes had matured before considering entering the Chamber of Secrets.
"The Mandrakes we're working with today still need some time to grow," Professor Sprout said, pointing to a row of deep trays. "Their cries won't do more than earn you an unforgettable Christmas in the hospital wing."
"Here, take this one." Abbott triumphantly grabbed two pairs of pink fluffy earmuffs and handed one to Snape.
"Excuse me, why this color?" Snape asked, bewildered. "Why?!"
"They look nice. I think the color suits us," Abbott said casually, slipping his own pair on.
Snape looked desperately at the bench,every other color had already been snatched away.
"You've gone too far! How could I not have seen your true face before-"
",What was that?" Abbott tapped his earmuffs. "I can't hear you-"
"~!@#￥%..."
"Sounds like a little couple quarreling."
Snape heard a soft voice.
A girl with a head of long, messy, waist-length golden hair stood nearby. Her hair was dirty and tangled, and around her neck hung a necklace made of Butterbeer corks.
She had pale-colored eyes, with equally light brows, and wore a faint, elusive smile. There was something unmistakably unusual about her.
Luna?
In Snape's mind appeared the image of a lively, sprite-like figure bouncing about.
He had never noticed this girl's presence before.
Of course, back then, his eyes had probably only ever seen a pair of brilliant green ones.
"You're the odd girl,Pandora Lovegood," Abbott shouted loudly.
Clearly, the earmuffs had interfered with his sense of volume.
But Pandora was not offended.
She only blinked her large eyes and said gently, "You call me odd girl too?"
With that, she turned and headed toward an empty desk.
"Wait," Snape called after her, giving Abbott a sharp flick on the head. "He's not right in the head, don't mind him.
"There's a free seat here. Why don't you sit with us?"
"All right." Pandora said happily, sitting down opposite Snape.
"Did you know?" she said mysteriously, "The cry of a Mandrake is actually a healing magic. With the Carthaginian incantations, it can have wondrous effects.
"Three hundred years ago, a witch named Elfrida used the wailing of Mandrakes to cure a vampire's allergy to sunlight..."
Listening to her boundless words, Snape could be entirely certain,this girl must be Luna's mother.
When Luna was nine, she would die in an accident caused by a magical experiment gone wrong.
And now, here she was, brimming with life, speaking excitedly about her fantastical ideas.
From the joy on her face, perhaps no one had ever been willing to patiently listen to her talk like this before.
Light streamed through the greenhouse glass, falling on her profile.