27 - Mental attack

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George was sitting on the floor in his favourite corridor at the school facing the huge clock that was attached to the school walls. Through the glass between the moving watch hands he could see his classmates flying over the school grounds. It was the final flying lesson and George really regretted his little showing-off in the first flying lesson that resulted in him being banned from all the following lessons. 

He would love to fly through the air right now, feeling the cold air blowing through his hair and touching his cheeks. But all he could do was just to sit here, watching his classmates making progress and enjoying themselves. It was amazing to watch other people fly but it was so much better to be the one that was sitting on the broom and zooming through the air. He let his forehead fall against the cold glass and closed his eyes.

After a while of staying in that position, George turned around because he didn't want to watch anymore. It made him too annoyed. He rested his back to the glass and looked around him. The corridor looked like all the others in the castle, grey old stone walls with portraits and tapestries, but he knew that this one was a bit more exciting than you would think on the first glance. Henry and him had found two secret passages that started in this corridor. They were especially long ones and one even had several stops on the way to the Charms classroom, where it was headed. 

George was about to use that one when he heard footsteps. Since he didn't want to show anyone the entrance to the secret corridor, he quickly stepped away from the wall and pretended to just be walking along the corridor. 

"Mr Potter," he heard a slimy voice say behind him. He immediately knew who it was.

"Yes, Professor Snape?" he turned around.

"What are you doing inside when your class clearly has flying classes? You're not skipping classes again, are you? Are you thinking about what adventure you apparently went on this time so that you just couldn't come to classes?" George felt panic rising up in him. Professor Snape knew. "Yes, I know about your little lie. This time you won't get away that easily. I will make sure you get the punishment you deserve."

George was too scared to say anything. He was just standing there, frozen to the ground, and couldn't move. Professor Snape just took his arm and dragged him along. "Let's see which punishment Filch can think of that will make you stop skipping classes," he said with an evil smile. 

They had already walked down an entire corridor before George finally felt brave enough to speak again.

He stopped walking, and since Professor Snape was dragging him, he made him stop, too. "I'm banned from flying classes. That's why I'm not at class. I would love to have flying classes but I'm not allowed to," he said in a small voice.

Professor Snape's gleeful smile dropped. "Why are you banned from flying classes?" he asked.

"I went too high," George said in a low voice. He didn't know why he had such difficulties with talking to Professor Snape. In class he never had problems with speaking up to him in a confident voice, but now that they were alone he was scared out of his wits.

"Of course, Potter, always a show-off," Professor Snape said with a sharp voice. For a couple of seconds, he just stood there and George started to have a weird feeling. Like as though Professor Snape could read his mind. He felt extremely uncomfortable. 

Could Professor Snape read minds? He could feel it. He was sure that something was wrong. Something in his head was different than before. There was something else there. Or someone else. He could feel it moving. He didn't know what it was but he knew that there was most definitely something that was extremely wrong. 

He could hear voices. Unrecognizable voices. He didn't know what they said and he didn't know where they came from. They all mixed together inside his head. His hands went up and clutched his head to hold it together. To have some kind of control over it. To prevent his brain from being attacked. His memories from being stolen. And most of all, to silence the voices. Professor Snape looked at him shocked and turned around, his cloak billowing behind him as he left the scene with fast steps. George could feel the scratches that his fingernails had dug into his head.

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