[He's standing out in the middle of the snow, freezing rain is falling. Hail stones the size of golf balls pelt the ground and Crona's exposed body. He doesn't have an umbrella or a coat, just his usual black robe which is getting wetter and wetter by the second. Colder and colder. Tiny pellets stick to his clothes and uneven pink hair. Anyone
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Snape's bundled up in his cloak and gloves, the hood thrown up over his head. Some rain and hail bounces off the charmed cloak, the rest avoids Snape as he manipulates the water away from him.]
What are you doing?
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Still being a freak?
[He waves his hand, indicating the freezing rain. The water falling around him spirals around him as he does so.]
Is this all you? [He says in an accusatory tone.]
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[He cocks his head a little]
Should I eat his soul?
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