The Innocent Bat Gets His Robes Ripped Off

The scream was so piercing that even Snape, his face blue with anger as he glared at Harry, froze for an instant.

Harry stood expressionless in the doorway, hunched over and still backing away with his backside stuck out. His heart gave up on the spot.

His ears were nearly deafened. The screaming went on. Snape looked ready to kill him, and Filch had fallen flat on his backside. Harry stared at them all and thought coldly:

Let it all go to hell. At least I got a good show before I died.

Was Eliana part whistle? How could she scream for so long?

Before he could finish the thought, he spun on the spot and smacked into the wall—Eliana had kicked him aside as she charged out.

Still dazed, he watched her rush up to Snape, who had risen to his feet, then crouch and grab for the hem of his robes.

"Professor! Professor, what happened to your leg? Who did this? There's a terrorist attacking professors in this school! We have to find them and punish them! Severely!"

Eliana yapped like an angry Chihuahua.

Snape had no time to unleash his fury. He reacted quickly, pinning his robes down with one hand and seizing Eliana by the back of her collar with the other. He flung her away—he had nearly gone straight from furious to exposed.

"Ritchie!" he shouted. "What are you doing?"

Eliana darted straight back and lunged at him again. "Professor, your leg's hurt! Let me see!"

She ducked and dodged beneath the arm Snape reached out to grab her.

To Snape's disbelief, he could not catch her. Ritchie was like a Kneazle with a fist-sized head and lightning-fast reflexes!

"Ritchie, where are your manners? Is this how you treat your professor?"

Snape's face was livid. He did not even bother with his usual elegantly barbed, lengthy sentences.

Then he looked up and saw Potter staring blankly at them from beside the door. Fresh rage surged through him—it was Potter who had brought this lawless Mandrake here!

"Potter!"

The Slytherin Head of House roared like a lion.

Harry jolted back to his senses. "I—I came to get my book back—"

"Get out!"

Harry ran for his life.

"You too!"

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

"No! Not unless you let me see your leg!"

Eliana shouted back, not frightened in the slightest.

Snape looked ready to pass out with rage. He turned his head. "Filch—"

Apparently sensing trouble, Filch had slipped away at some point.

He had even closed the Staff Room door behind him.

Perhaps because no one else was there to see him make a fool of himself, Snape's mind briefly cleared. He whipped out his wand.

A rope flew in from somewhere and, in the blink of an eye, bound Eliana tight as a cocoon.

Snape breathed a sigh of relief, but his anger had not faded. His eyes narrowed dangerously. "Miss Richie—!"

Riiip!

Seizing the moment he relaxed, Eliana bent sharply up from the floor, caught his robes in her teeth, and bit down. Orange-red patterns spread from her mouth, coiling across the black fabric like Fire Serpents. She clenched her jaw and threw herself downward.

A large piece of dark fabric tore free, its edges faintly blackened as though scorched by fire.

Snape's bloodied calf was exposed to the air. The movement seemed to have pulled at the wound, and blood threatened to well up again.

Snape was so angry he felt dazed.

He wondered whether the three-headed dog's teeth had some undiscovered hallucinogenic effect. Why else would he be in the Staff Room while a rampaging Re'em calf tore a chunk out of his new robes with her teeth?

What were her teeth made of?

No, that was not the point. The point was that he, Severus Snape, Hogwarts Potions professor and Slytherin Head of House, whom every student agreed was the most caustic, eccentric, terrifying professor—and he was very pleased about that—had had his robes bitten through by a first-year in the Staff Room!

All so she could look at the wound on his leg.

Who taught her to treat an injured person like that?!

Snape wondered if he was dreaming. Cold air brushed against his exposed calf.

If you can't find the book by its title, try searching for the author. Perhaps it was only renamed!

His face twisted. It was no dream. That audacious little brat Eliana had really done it!

"Well, well." A furious smile crossed his face as he bent over Eliana, bound on the floor like a caterpillar. His voice hissed like a venomous snake.

Eliana's head hung low, as though someone had pressed pause on her. Wisps of hair fell against her pale, rosy cheeks. She sat motionless as a blank-faced porcelain doll.

"Ritchie," Snape said, his voice icy, "don't think that pretending nothing happened will make me—"

Eliana began to sob. Her cocooned body trembled, making her look terribly pitiful.

"Playing the pitiful victim won't work either—"

Snape's voice was cold, though his tone softened almost imperceptibly.

He was interrupted again.

"Professor, does it hurt?"

Tears filled Eliana's eyes as she looked from the wound on his leg to his face. Her worry and heartache were plain to see.

The words caught in Snape's throat. For a moment, his eyes went blank.

But he quickly recovered and became the stern, unapproachable professor again.

"Ritchie—what are you doing?"

Eliana sprang up from the floor. At some point, she had cut through the rope. She quickly tucked a folding knife away with one hand and pulled a tiny bottle from her pocket with the other.

"Let me put some medicine on it. It must be hard for you to do it yourself. You can take as many points as you want afterward, all right?"

Snape sneered. "I'm astonished that the presumptuous, arrogant, reckless Miss Richie realizes her behavior is foolish enough to cost her points. You could lose Gryffindor fifty points!"

But he did not bind Eliana again or throw her out.

Eliana edged a couple of steps closer with the bottle. When Snape made no move, she lunged toward him.

A vein jumped at Snape's temple. Before he could deliver a scathing remark, Eliana had begun.

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

Eliana pressed her lips together and carefully poured the liquid over it. The bleeding stopped at once, and the torn edges began to creep together. She swiftly wrapped the wound in gauze.

"You've had practice," Snape said, studying her.

Eliana deftly tied a bow at the end of the gauze. "Kids at the orphanage get bumps and scrapes and get into fights all the time. If it isn't too serious, we usually handle it ourselves. I'm practically half an expert."

She rolled up the remaining gauze, looking rather pleased with herself.

"With Dittany, too?"

"Of course not. Where would we get anything like that? Usually it was iodine, alcohol..." Eliana bit her tongue in horror.

Snape gave her a knowing smile. "Then perhaps the expert Miss Richie can tell me where she got the Essence of Dittany she carries around? The Hospital Wing has very little Dittany, and it ran out long ago. I haven't had time to brew a fresh supply for them."

Where else? I pocketed a little whenever I helped handle Dittany—or was punished by being made to handle it. It took me ages to brew even this tiny bottle.

Was this what happened when a thief tried to fence stolen goods and ran straight into the owner?

No, the thief had gone looking for the owner herself.

Eliana dared not raise her head. She wanted to slap herself.

Seeing how badly she wanted to crawl into a hole, Snape showed a trace of satisfaction.

"Ah, how clever. How bold and meticulous. What a genius Miss Richie is." His voice was soft, then rose sharply. "Stealing a professor's Potions ingredients. Five points from Gryffindor."

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

Eliana snatched Quidditch Through the Ages off the table and ran for the door.

The moment she gripped the handle, she paused. "Professor, I didn't come to get Harry's book for him. I came because I heard your leg might be hurt."

I got points taken, got yelled at, and used the stolen medicine on the very teacher I stole it from, all just to treat his wound. If Snape thinks I did all this for Harry, won't it all have been for nothing?

He'd better see how sincerely I respect and care for him, realize I like him more than the other professors, and be so moved that he likes me a little more than the other students!

Eliana hurried out the words and ran off without waiting for Snape's response.

The door shut with a bang.