Kapitel 12: Chapter 12
"It was in Hogwarts, A History, and honestly, don't any of you read?" she asked, slightly indignantly.
"Quidditch magazines, mainly," Ron admitted.
"Newspapers rescued from the trash, but only when the Dursley's weren't watching," Harry confessed.
"Outside of spell books and fell arcane tomes? Not that much," Milo said.
Hermione sighed.
"You should try it sometime, you might find it fairly enlighten—oh, my goodness!" Piles and piles of food appeared, suddenly, in front of them.
"Huh, neat trick," Milo said. "I knew the elves cooked their food by magic. Pointy-eared pansies never worked a day in their lives."
His last sentence drew a number of odd looks, but fortunately, most people were too busy digging in to pay much attention to him. Harry Potter in particular looked like he was about to cry tears of joy at the food laid out in front of them. Milo shrugged. To him, food was something to keep you from getting hunger-based check penalties. While the rest of the party was distracted by food (Milo made sure to cast Detect Poison before he touched any of it), Milo decided to check out the head table.
The teachers at Hogwarts were the quirkiest bunch of characters he'd seen since Milo had been hired to take out a gnome barbarian's band of performing cutthroats. One of them was wearing a purple turban. One of them was tiny (Milo couldn't tell, from this distance, if he was a gnome, halfling, or dwarf). One of them was Albus Dumbledore, for gods' sakes. The last, though… now, he was really interesting. Black cloak. Greasy hair. Hooked nose.
Necromancer, hands down. Milo grinned. Ladies and gentlemen, we have our dark wizard. Milo gave it a fifty percent chance that the professor was working for You-Know-Who, with the other fifty percent saying he was You-Know-Who. The only nail missing from his coffin was a goatee.
"Hey, Hermione, who's he?" Milo gestured to the obviously evil wizard.
"'Professor Severus Snape, born 1960, made Potions Master at Hogwarts in 1981 by Headmaster Albus Dumbledore, and as of 1991, is the Head of House Slytherin,'" she recited. "Hogwarts, A History, page 371."
"You're a very useful person to have around, you know that?" Milo asked. Hermione beamed. "Harry, listen up. Add Snape to your list, he's bad news."
"Are you sure?" Harry asked.
"Absolutely. I mean, just look at him. He's wearing all black, for goodness sake."
"Er, I don't mean to put too fine of a point on it, but we're all, also, wearing all black, Milo," Harry said, gesturing at his uniform.
"It's black of a different sort. We're in the sober, working black. He's in evil black. Back me up here, Ron."
"Fred and George say he's a smarmy git, and he favours Slytherin students outrageously," Ron said. "They also say that he's half bat, he can read your mind, and that shampoo spontaneously combusts when it touches his hair, but I think they made that last one up."
"He's probably just allergic to shampoo," Hermione said. "He's a professor. He can't be evil, or Dumbledore wouldn't let him teach here."
Milo barked a laugh. They clearly had very different views of education.
Harry abruptly clutched his forehead in pain.
"What's wrong?" Hermione asked in concern.
"I was just looking at Snape, and suddenly my scar hurt," Harry said.
"The scar You-Know-Who gave you?"
"No, the other scar on my forehead, of course the scar Vol- You-Know-Who gave me," Harry snapped. Hermione blushed slightly. "S-sorry," he said. "I didn't mean to be mean, I was just so angry all of a sudden… it was weird."
"I'd say that's basically proof," Milo said. "Harry looked at Snape, and his curse scar hurt. Ergo, Snape is evil."
"Sounds good to me," Ron voiced his agreement. "I mean, look at him. Seriously."
"I don't think we should just jump to conclusions like this," Hermione said. "One's fashion choices and hygiene, no matter how unfortunate, have no bearing on moral standing. Also, we should really tell an adult about Harry's scar, it might be important—he might need a healer."
"What does Snape need to do, eat a baby or something?" Milo asked. New PCs could be so thick sometimes.
"He hasn't even done anything yet," Hermione protested.
"She has a point," Harry added. "All he's done is sit there. Maybe he's a really nice bloke, and I don't think any of us know enough magic yet to say if my scar's reaction means anything. We should give him the benefit of the doubt."
"Fine, it's your adventure, after all. But can we at least agree to keep a close eye on him?" Milo pleaded.
They all agreed, albeit in Hermione's case, somewhat reluctantly.
Dumbledore then stood to make another speech, laying out some ground rules. The Forbidden Forest was—hah, yeah right. Milo couldn't imagine a better way to encourage students to go there and gain XP than to forbid them from doing it. Milo's ears really perked up at hearing about the forbidden, trapped, mysterious corridor, however. Harry laughed when he Dumbledore said that anyone who investigated it would die a painful death, but nobody else did. The Headmaster was serious.
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