In the corridor.
Ian's retreating figure was a sorry sight.
He had become the first student to be thrown out of class by Snape since term began. Though Snape had not banned him permanently, the Old Bat's roar had echoed through more than half of Hogwarts.
"I told you to prove that my potion had a soul, not to kiss Snape right there in class!" Ian blamed all of it on the evil Peeves.
"He leaned in! He kissed me first! He did it on purpose!"
Peeves clutched his head, still aching from the hard flick Ian had delivered to his forehead, his face full of grievance. He did not dare argue with Ian. After all, Bloody Baron had now dropped to second place on his list of terrifying things.
"You ruined my first place!" Ian kicked Peeves in the backside, sending him rolling through the air for more than ten metres.
"Boohoohoo! My first kiss! That damned Potions Professor has to take responsibility!" Peeves transformed into a sobbing mess and flew toward Snape's office.
Who knew what he intended to do in Snape's office? Listening to his muttering, Ian strongly suspected that Snape would find an extra head in his blankets tonight.
"I approve of this marriage."
In the empty corridor.
Ian looked boredly out the window at the Quidditch pitch. The upper-year teams were sparring, and Slytherin seemed to be beating Gryffindor into pulp.
Perhaps only Harry Potter could save Gryffindor's team. Before the Savior joined Gryffindor, Slytherin had won the Quidditch Cup for several years in a row.
Even Marcus, who had still been wetting himself just days ago, was performing brilliantly on the pitch. His fierce style had made him an "outstanding" Seeker. No wonder he had managed to gather so many people to block Ian