¡°Be quiet,¡± said Snape coldly. ¡°I did not ask for information. I was merely commenting on Professor Lupin's lack of organization.¡±
Look, I'm really sorry about that telephone call. I hope the Muggles didn't give you a hard time. I asked Dad, and he reckons I shouldn't have shouted.
It was nearly midnight, and he was lying on his stomach in bed, the blankets drawn right over his head like a tent, a flashlight in one hand and a large leather-bound book (A History of Magic by Bathilda Bagshot) propped open against the pillow. Harry moved the tip of his eagle-feather quill down the page, frowning as he looked for something that would help him write his essay, ¡®Witch Burning in the Fourteenth Century Was Completely Pointless ¡ª discuss.¡¯
Angelina, Alicia, and Katie suddenly giggled.
¡°All unconscious by the time I reached them. I bound and gagged Black, naturally, conjured stretchers, and brought them all straight back to the castle.¡±