Al crossed his legs nervously. The metal-legged chihuahua in his lap squeaked angrily. "I'm terribly sorry," he said, staring at the ground. "I think so far . . . um, he hasn't annoyed Professor Snape."
"No?"
"No. Um. He reduced him to an icy slavering fury instead."
"And you think that this might be connected with your brother's transformation?"
Al slumped further. "After the duel with Colonel Mustang on the Quidditch pitch yesterday, sir, I think that Professor Snape would probably be part of a very long line."
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