The Pure Bat's Clothes Stripped

The voice was so sharp and piercing that Snape, whose face was already flushed with anger and who had been glaring at Harry, was stunned for a moment.

Harry stood expressionless at the doorway, his back hunched, still in the motion of backing away with his butt sticking out. His heart sank.

With his ears ringing as if he were deaf, bathed in the ongoing screams, and meeting Snape's murderous gaze, he watched Filch, who had been so scared he'd fallen to the ground, and thought coldly:

Let it be chaos. Chaos is good. If I can witness such a lively performance before I die, it'll be worth it.

Is Eliana a whistle spirit? How can she scream so much?

Before he could finish his thought, he found himself spun around abruptly, landing with a thud against the wall—Eliana had shoved him aside like an obstacle when she rushed out.

Before he could react, he stared blankly as Eliana exploded towards Snape, who had already gotten to his feet, and with a whoosh, crouched down to lift his robes.

"Professor! Professor, what's wrong with your leg! Who did this! There are terrorists attacking professors at this accursed school! We must find them and punish them severely! Punish them severely!!"

Eliana shrieked like an enraged chihuahua.

Snape, in his fury, had no time to be furious. He reacted nimbly, pressing one hand to his robes and grabbing Eliana by the scruff of her neck with the other, throwing her out forcefully—he almost seamlessly transitioned from a state of rage to one of exposure.

"Richie!" he roared, "What are you doing!"

Eliana agilely darted back, persistently pouncing forward, "Professor, your leg is injured! Let me see!"

She weaved and dodged deftly under Snape's outstretched arm, which was trying to grab her.

Snape found that he couldn't catch her for a moment—Richie was like a cat-like creature with a head the size of a fist but incredibly quick reflexes!

"Richie, where is your manners? Is this how you treat your professor?"

Snape's face was ashen. He didn't even bother with his usual elegant, sarcastic long sentences.

When he looked up and saw Potter leaning against the doorframe, staring at them blankly, his anger surged—it was Potter who had led this lawless Mandrake, Eliana, here!

"Potter!"

The Head of Slytherin let out a lion-like roar.

Harry flinched and snapped back to reality, stammering, "I, I came to get my book—"

"Get out!"

Harry bolted.

"You too!"

He turned his head and roared at Eliana, who was hopping and bouncing around his legs like a flea.

"I won't! Not unless you let me see your leg!"

Eliana wasn't afraid at all, shouting back.

Snape looked like he was about to faint from anger. He turned, "Filch—"

Filch, sensing the situation was dire, had quietly slipped away at some point.

He even closed the door to the staff room as he left.

Perhaps because there was no one else to witness his humiliation, Snape's mind finally cleared momentarily from his rage—he swiftly drew his wand.

A rope suddenly flew from somewhere, and in the blink of an eye, it securely bound Eliana like a silkworm cocoon.

Snape breathed a sigh of relief, but his anger didn't subside. His eyes narrowed dangerously, "Miss Richie—!"

Rip!

Taking advantage of his slight relaxation, Eliana suddenly sprang up from the ground in an L-shape and bit into his long robe. Orange-red patterns spread from where she bit, coiling like fiery snakes across the black fabric, claiming a large area. She bit down hard and lunged forward.

A large chunk of deep black fabric was torn off, its edges showing a faint, scorched blackness.

Snape's bloody lower leg was exposed to the air. Perhaps the movement had aggravated the wound, as blood began to seep out again.

Snape was almost dazed with anger.

He wondered if the teeth of the three-headed dog had some undiscovered hallucinogenic properties, otherwise why was he in the staff room, being attacked by a rampaging, bull-like creature, who tore a large piece of his new robe off with her teeth?

What were her teeth made of?

No, the point was that he, Severus Snape, Professor of Potions at Hogwarts, Head of Slytherin House, and widely recognized by all students as the most sarcastic, eccentric, and terrifying professor—a title he was quite proud of—had his robe damaged by a first-year student in the staff room!

And all to see the wound on his leg.

—Who taught her how to treat the injured?!

Snape suspected he was dreaming. The cold air on his exposed lower leg sent a chill through him.

If you can't find the book by its title, try searching for the author, maybe it's just been renamed!

His face contorted—it wasn't a dream. This was the real deed done by that audacious little brat, Eliana!

"Well, well," he said, a furious laugh escaping him. He leaned down to look at Eliana, bound like a caterpillar on the floor, hissing like a venomous snake.

Eliana on the ground lowered her head—as if paused mid-moment, her loose hair falling around her pale cheeks, like a dazed porcelain doll, completely still.

"Richie," Snape's voice was like ice, "Don't think that just because you're acting like nothing happened now, I'll—"

Eliana whimpered, her cocooned body trembling, looking utterly pathetic.

"Acting pitiful won't work—"

Snape said coldly, his tone softening almost imperceptibly.

His voice was interrupted again.

"Professor, does it hurt?"

Eliana, with teary eyes, looked at the wound on his leg, then at Snape, her face showing undisguised, genuine concern and distress.

Snape's words got stuck in his throat, his eyes vacant for a moment.

But he quickly regained his composure, reverting to the unapproachable, harsh professor.

"Richie--what are you doing!"

Eliana suddenly jumped up from the ground--she didn't know when she had cut through the rope. She quickly put away the folding knife in one hand and took out a small bottle from her pocket with the other.

"Let me put some medicine on for you. It must be inconvenient for you like this--you can deduct as many points from me as you want afterward, okay?"

Snape sneered, "I'm surprised that Miss Richie, who is so self-righteous, arrogant, and reckless, could actually realize that her actions are foolish and will lead to point deductions. You're enough to make Gryffindor lose fifty points!"

But he didn't tie Eliana up again, nor did he throw her out.

Eliana, holding the medicine bottle, cautiously took two steps closer. Seeing that Snape didn't react, she suddenly pounced.

The corner of Snape's eye twitched. Before he could utter a sarcastic remark, Eliana had already begun.

She conjured a thin stream of water, gently washing away the blood. The wound, with its exposed red flesh, looked even more gruesome.

Eliana pursed her lips and carefully poured the medicine onto the wound. The bleeding stopped instantly. The cracked edges of the wound wriggled and began to connect. She quickly wrapped it with gauze.

"Your movements are very skilled," Snape said, scrutinizing her.

Eliana skillfully tied a bow at the end of the gauze. "It's very common for children in the orphanage to get bumps, bruises, and fights. We usually handle minor injuries ourselves. I can be considered half an expert."

She rolled up the remaining gauze with a hint of pride.

"And Dittany?"

"Of course not. We don't have this kind of thing there. We usually use iodine, alcohol..." Eliana bit her tongue in alarm.

Snape said with a half-smile, "Then, could the professional Miss Richie tell me where the Essence of Dittany you have with you came from? The amount of Dittany in the Hospital Wing is very small, and it's all been used up. I haven't had time to brew more and send it over recently."

Where else could it come from? It was secretly pilfered every time she helped with or was punished for handling the Dittany plants. She had saved for a long time to barely brew this small bottle.

What was this, a thief running into the homeowner while trying to fence stolen goods?

--Or rather, the thief sought them out.

Eliana didn't dare to look up, thinking regretfully that she should slap herself.

Snape, seeing her desperate to find a hole to crawl into, showed a hint of pleasure.

"Ha, what a clever, bold, meticulous, and talented Miss Richie." He said softly, then suddenly raised his voice, "Stealing a professor's potion ingredients, Gryffindor loses five points."

"Take Potter's book and go back to your common room!" he barked.

Eliana grabbed "Quidditch Through the Ages" from the table and ran out.

The moment she grasped the doorknob, she paused and said softly, "Professor, I didn't come to get the book for Harry. I heard your leg was injured, so I came."

She had come to put medicine on his leg, lost points, been scolded, and used stolen medicine. If Snape thought she was trying to curry favor with him for Harry, she'd be at a total loss!

He had better see her sincere respect for her elders and realize that she liked him more than other professors, be deeply moved, and like her a little more than other students!

Eliana finished speaking quickly and ran off without waiting for Snape's reaction.

The door slammed shut with a bang.