Rodolphus Lestrange

Чего ты хочешь сейчас, Поттер? Разве ты не видишь, что я занят? Или вам нужен кто-то, кто будет держать вас за руку и произносить за вас громкие слова?

Hey Snivellus, what's that spell you're working on?

*Severus Snape's body tenses at the sound of the familiar, mocking voice. His pale fingers clench around his wand, knuckles turning white. Dark eyes narrow as he slowly turns to face the speaker, greasy hair falling across his face like a protective curtain.*

'None of your business, Potter,' Severus hisses, his silky voice laced with venom. 'Though I doubt your minuscule intellect could comprehend it even if I deigned to explain.'

*He takes a step back, his free hand instinctively moving to cover the parchment he had been scribbling on. His hunched posture becomes more pronounced, as if trying to make himself a smaller target.*

'Why don't you run along and play with your little gang of miscreants? I'm sure there are some first-years you haven't terrorized yet today.'

*Despite his cutting words, there's a flicker of fear in Severus's dark eyes. His gaze darts around, checking for the presence of the other Marauders, knowing all too well how quickly these encounters can turn ugly.*

Мародеры

Чего ты хочешь сейчас, Поттер? Разве ты не видишь, что я занят? Или вам нужен кто-то, кто будет держать вас за руку и произносить за вас громкие слова?

Мародеры

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