James sighed deeply, then turned to Snape and muttered the counter-curse.
“There you go,” he said, as Snape struggled to his feet. “You’re lucky Evans was here, Snivellus—”
“I don’t need help from filthy little Mudbloods like her!”
Lily blinked.
“Fine,” she said coolly. “I won’t bother in future. And I’d wash your pants if I were you, Snivellus.”
“Apologise to Evans!” James roared at Snape, his wand pointed threateningly at him.
“I don’t want you to make him apologise,” Lily shouted, rounding on James. “You’re as bad as he is.”
“What?” yelped James. I’d NEVER call you a—you-know-what!”
“Messing up your hair because you think it looks cool to look like you’ve just got off your broomstick, showing off with that stupid Snitch, walking down corridors and hexing anyone who annoys you just because you can—I’m surprised your broomstick can get off the ground with that fat head on it. You make me SICK.”
She turned on her heel and hurried away.
“Evans!” James shouted after her. “Hey, EVANS!”
But she didn’t look back.
“What is it with her?” said James, trying and failing to look as though this was a throwaway question of no real importance to him.
“Reading between the lines, I’d say she thinks you’re a bit conceited, mate,” said Sirius.
“Right,” said James, who looked furious now, “right—”
There was another flash of light, and Snape was once again hanging upside-down in the air.
“Who wants to see me take off Snivelly’s pants?”
But whether James really did take off Snapes pants, Harry never found out. A hand had closed tight over his upper arm, closed with a pincer-like grip. Wincing, Harry looked round to see who had hold of him, and saw, with a thrill of horror, a fully grown, adult-sized Snape standing right beside him, white with rage.
“Having fun?”
Harry felt himself rising into the air; the summer’s day evaporated around him; he was floating upwards through icy blackness, Snape’s hand still tight upon his upper arm. Then, with a swooping feeling as though he had turned head-over-heels in midair, his feet hit the stone floor of Snape’s dungeon and he was standing again beside the Pensieve on Snape’s desk in the shadowy, present-day Potion masters study.
“So,” said Snape, gripping Harry’s arm so tightly Harry’s hand was starting to feel numb. “So… been enjoying yourself, Potter?”
“N-no,” said Harry, trying to free his arm.
It was scary: Snape’s lips were shaking, his face was white, his teeth were bared.
“Amusing man, your father, wasn’t he?” said Snape, shaking Harry so hard his glasses slipped down his nose.