’Keep your ’airnet on!’ said Mundungus, his arms over his head, cowering.
Someone was cowering against the dark wall, her wand in her hand, her whole body shaking with sobs.
Neville jumped and cowered as though a bullet had narrowly missed him.
He relinquished his grip on the chair and walked around it, closer to the man cowering on the floor, until he stood directly over him in the darkness, looking down from a far greater height than usual.
Snape staggered — his wand flew upwards, away from Harry —and suddenly Harry’s mind was teeming with memories that were not his: a hook-nosed man was shouting at a cowering woman, while a small dark-haired boy cried in a corner… a greasy-haired teenager sat alone in a dark bedroom, pointing his wand at the ceiling, shooting down flies… a girl was laughing as a scrawny boy tried to mount a bucking broomstick — ’ENOUGH!’