Гарри Поттер и философский камень
The Potions Master
Hesweptaroundinhislongblackcloak,watchingthemweighdriednettlesandcrushsnakefangs,criticizingalmosteveryoneexceptMalfoy,whomheseemedtolike. HewasjusttellingeveryonetolookattheperfectwayMalfoyhadstewedhishornedslugswhencloudsofacidgreensmokeandaloudhissingfilledthedungeon. NevillehadsomehowmanagedtomeltSeamus’scauldronintoatwistedblob,andtheirpotionwasseepingacrossthestonefloor,burningholesinpeople’sshoes. Withinseconds,thewholeclasswasstandingontheirstoolswhileNeville,whohadbeendrenchedinthepotionwhenthecauldroncollapsed,moanedinpainasangryredboilssprangupalloverhisarmsandlegs.
"Idiotboy! "snarledSnape,clearingthespilledpotionawaywithonewaveofhiswand. "Isupposeyouaddedtheporcupinequillsbeforetakingthecauldronoffthefire?"
Nevillewhimperedasboilsstartedtopopupalloverhisnose.
"Takehimuptothehospitalwing,"SnapespatatSeamus. ThenheroundedonHarryandRon,whohadbeenworkingnexttoNeville.
"You—Potter—whydidn’tyoutellhimnottoaddthequills? Thoughthe’dmakeyoulookgoodifhegotitwrong,didyou? That’sanotherpointyou’velostforGryffindor."
ThiswassounfairthatHarryopenedhismouthtoargue,butRonkickedhimbehindtheircauldron.
"Don’tpushit,"hemuttered,"I’veheardSnapecanturnverynasty."
Astheyclimbedthestepsoutofthedungeonanhourlater,Harry’smindwasracingandhisspiritswerelow. He’dlosttwopointsforGryffindorinhisveryfirstweek—whydidSnapehatehimsomuch?
