The tense air in the Dungeon Classroom ebbed away like a retreating tide.
The moment Snape finished speaking, Ron was the first to snap his bag shut and flee, afraid that even half a second's delay might make the man at the lectern change his mind.
Harley tucked the filled potion bottles into their box and hurried after him.
As Ron strode up the steps from the dungeon, he was still muttering curses:
"Next time we have his class, I'm definitely leaving Scabbers in the dormitory."
"You said that last week too," Harley reminded him, reaching over to straighten the scarf that had slipped behind his head.
Ron stiffened. "I was worried Scabbers would run away again, wasn't I?"
Gavin packed up his things too and left the dungeon entrance hall a couple of paces behind them.
"Ron."
Ron looked back, instinctively slowing his steps.
Gavin approached, his gaze settling on the side of Ron's bag.
"Take your rat out and let me have a look. Rodents can suffer acute stress under extreme fright. If it's bad enough, it can cause organ failure."
Ron immediately clutched both hands to his chest, his eyes going blank.
"Acute... what?"
"Simply put, fear throws its heartbeat out of rhythm, and it dies of fright," Gavin explained expressionlessly.
Ron opened his mouth. Clearly, he understood every word individually, but put together, they lay completely outside the Weasley family's everyday vocabulary.
He was about to argue that Scabbers was tough enough to take a little rough treatment, but when he turned, he met Harley's green eyes, full of earnest concern.
The girl pressed her lips together and stared straight at him, her eyes plainly asking, "Scabbers isn't really in trouble, is he?"
Ron swallowed the words on the tip of his tongue. His Adam's apple