Professor Umbridge gave another cough, a little more audible this time. Professor McGonagall closed her eyes for a moment, opened them again, and continued as though nothing had happened.
'I was just wondering whether Mr Potter has quite the temperament for an Auror?' said Professor Umbridge sweetly.
'What?' he said quickly. 'Nothing.'
Snape threw Harry from him with all his might. Harry fell hard on to the dungeon floor.
'Yeah, I'm fine,' said Harry gruffly. The lump in his throat was painful. He did not understand why an Easter egg should have made him feel like this.
But the fact remained that if he was caught . . .
The weather grew breezier, brighter and warmer as the Easter holidays passed, but Harry, along with the rest of the fifth- and seventh-years, was trapped inside, revising, traipsing back and forth to the library. Harry pretended his bad mood had no other cause but the approaching exams, and as his fellow Gryffindors were sick of studying themselves, his excuse went unchallenged.
'Keep your voice down,' implored Lupin.
Harry turned away from the window, headed back to his trunk and started to dress.
'All right, Snivellus?' said James loudly.
'Of course I understood it,' said Professor McGonagall, her teeth clenched so tightly the words came out a little muffled.
'Well,' said James, appearing to deliberate the point, 'it's more the fact that he exists, if you know what I mean . . .'
'Fine,' she said coolly. 'I won't bother in future. And I'd wash your pants if I were you, Snivellus.'
'Harry, I'm talking to you, can you hear me?'
'N-no,' said Harry, trying to free his arm.
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'Well, I thought of, maybe, being an Auror,' Harry mumbled.
That sneak friend of hers, Marietta,' said Harry.