If he hadn't been hit by the Petrification Charm, Harry felt sure he would have been breathing like a bellows by now. For some reason, Snape's reflection in his wide-open eyes had frozen in place.
After a long while, he suddenly shut the notebook and slammed it down on the desk beside him, waving his hand.
"Finite Incantatem!"
It was the incantation for the counter-spell.
Harry certainly didn't know it, but during the devilish training last term, he had seen Vaughn use it many times, usually to deal with the various little spells Harry cast.
As the spell took effect, Harry felt the stiff muscles throughout his body immediately soften. Then he heard Snape's impatient voice. "Get out!"
"Professor, my—"
"Get out!"
Harry and Ron had no idea what had set Snape off again, but hearing the uncontrollable fury in his roar, they could only flee the Potions classroom in a panic.
It was not until they had gone far from the dungeons and returned to ground level that Ron, who had been as quiet as a quail the whole time, suddenly became "tough" again and cursed, "That despicable old bat! I thought he might have gotten a little better after not seeing us for two months over the summer. He did change, all right—he'd been holding it in for two months and couldn't even wait for the welcome feast before rushing to torture us!"
Harry was distracted.
His schoolbag was still down in the dungeons. The other things inside didn't matter much, but the notebook—
And what puzzled him was why Snape's mood had suddenly become so terrible.
But he had no time to think it over, because he noticed that the Sorting Ceremony was underway in the Great Hall, and Professor McGonagall, who was responsible for keeping the