Harry Potter found solitude inside an empty classroom. The upcoming exams were approaching dreadfully quickly and it seemed he could not find peace and quiet in Gryffindor’s Common Room. Not while Ron and Hermione were bickering about studying techniques. Harry loved Hermione. He was glad she was his friend, but sometimes he wished she would stop correcting Ron when it was clear the redhead did not want to be corrected.

“No wonder they can’t accept they are attracted to another. They argue so much, they both have their doubts,” he thought shaking his head.

He was studying peacefully for half-an-hour when it happened. A long high-pitched sound entered his head making him yelp in pain. His head seemed ready to split open. Someone was whistling and this irritated him a lot. He closed his ears and hurried outside, trying to track down the source of that annoying noise.

He found the source a few meters away, behind a closed door. The whistling was unbearable and made him feel dizzy. He grasped the door’s handle and burst into the room. “WILL YOU STOP THAT INFERNAL SOUND?” he shouted with a mixture of anger and agony.

Immediately he caught by surprise and for the first time in a long time, Harry Potter did not know whether to laugh or to hide.

Severus Snape stared him in pure confusion, having still his lips formed to create a whistling sound. He let down a bloodstained dagger, which he was using to cut a gryndillow’s heart into pieces. “Potter, what is the meaning of this?” he hissed in seething anger.

Harry moved his mouth as if trying to retrieve his voice from the depths of his larynx.

“Sir, you – whistle.” he muttered out in surprise.

“Thanks for the observation Potter. All those years I thought I was knitting,” Snape commented sarcastically, adding the cubes of heart in the potion.

“I am sorry,” Harry hurried to say in embarrassment, “over the years I found whistling infuriating but since I turned sixteen, it has becomes really painful.”

Snape, placed the potion in a vial, put off the fire and looked at the boy. He approached Harry and without warning he let out a whistle. Harry jumped up in pain and glared at the black-robed wizard, who paid no attention to him.

“Interesting, very interesting,” Snape muttered to himself. “I wonder if this affects all Purselmouths.”

“You don’t know sir?” Harry found himself asking blankly.

“Potter, do you draw pleasure in proving me you are daft? How am I supposed to know? Not many Pursemouths exist and don’t have an illusion that the Dark Lord allows whistling in meetings.”

Harry turned crimson red. Voldemort would, indeed, not allow whistling in meetings. It seemed strange to Harry but no matter how hard he always tried, he never managed to say something clever around Snape.

“It is as if my mouth takes over when he is around,” Harry thought.

Ever since his first year, Harry always wanted to prove to the Potion Master that he was cleverer and better than Snape assumed he was, but when he would set foot in the classroom it seemed to him that everything went wrong.

“Maybe, just maybe I should try in the next meeting,” Harry listened Snape comment to himself.

“No!” Harry shouted immediately, unable to control his reaction. The black-haired man turned to the teenager, with an expression of annoyance. “No, you can’t go and whistle in Voldemort’s ears. You will get yourself killed!”

“And since when do you care about my welfare Potter?” Snape asked with a loud sniff. “I am of the idea you hate me.”

“Yes, I mean… No – I mean – I don’t want you to be in danger.”

“I am not going to declare my spying for the Order Potter. I will just whistle. No harm at all.”

“I don’t think Professor Dumbledore will consent in it,” Harry let out immediately, as if trying to find way to reason the Potion Master.

“Since when do you care about the git Harry?” a little voice whispered in his ear.

“The Headmaster is not my guardian to forbid things,” Snape said somewhat angrily. “Conversation is over. Now get out of here. I have work to do.”

“But…”

“No buts Potter, now get out before I deduct points from Gryffindor,” Snape let out with a snarl.

Harry let out a sigh of defeat and got out of the room. It was getting dark. It seemed fit to return to the Common Room. Yet, as he entered the Common Room he could not suppress that annoying jab to the stomach and the feeling that this whistling business was not going to end up good.