A quiet lay within that room. A stale unmoving quiet that seemed to taint the air, making it thick. And as it moved down his throat, closing ever passage, space; it passed silently into his lungs, seizing them into hard brutal organs, the air thickly pushing all space away, out; like respiration was never necessary again.
James Potter sat like this. His head chocking, clogging, from the tickly air within. But nothing worked, nothing functioned. Lungs, brain; he was just a body, ridged in his seat as he sat so still before Professor Mcgonagall.
"How long have you been taunting Mr Snape, Mr Potter?"
James moving his hand to his hair line, a habit, a comforting reminder of a time before this meeting, before… James almost chocked, hand in hair unable to ruffle.
"I don't know, Professor, first year I think… I thi-… please I'm so sorry I'm really sorry."
James could feel his breath jammed in his throat, unable to reach his mouth, suffocating, dizzying, it didn't happen, it did not happen, it never… no it didn't… please no… it didn't happen
"James breath. James look at me force it James. Breath in James!"
James breathed out in almost a cough. But it held in his chest again. Every breath held unable to breath then a cough. But every breath James lessened the cough. Every held breath less. Until he breathed, shallow but breathing constantly. The air around James less dense, his lungs free enough to breath from the hard air that once was within them. His mind still carrying a dizzy edge to his skull. He looked up. Professor Mcgonagall beside him.
She stood up straight again. Turning she moved back to her desk again, this time however facing away. James could see those fingers tap, slowly. Tap. Tap. Tap.
With a sudden stark turn of her frame she looked down at James. "Mr Potter. You are not a bad person. On the contrary a bad person would revel in this. If your persistent bullying, yes Mr Potter bullying, was trying to hurt Mr Snape then… you're guilt shows you as a good man Mr Potter. You're actions leading to said guilt not so but you're guilt is still an important aspect to consider. Mr Potter, what has happened you cannot change but what you can change is what will happen. Never let what has happened today happen again through your actions. And most importantly, it was not your fault. It was his choose but do not make him feel he has to make that choose again by your hostility. Do not blame yourself but better yourself. Do I make myself clear?"
"Yes Professor."
"You may leave James."
Rising, James looked beyond the window into the dark grounds. That image from an hour before. Like a picture clasped to his mind, never unhooking itself.
Leaving the Professor's office he passed silently into the dark corridor, the shadows almost like the now dark lake, silently moving its course as its banks looked out into the grounds to that nearby tree.
And as he reached the stairs leading up toward the common room his mind shifted to the hospital wing as Snape's breathes now came in raspses as he lay in a fitful sleep, slowly growing stronger as each potion and spell aided his lungs and throat.
And as James reached the portrait of the fat Lady, James stared at the figure of the woman sat before him as she looked back, asking for a password. But James did not hear, he did not see the Fat Lady. All he could hear were the branches strain and the swish of body on rope. All he could see was the black figure of Snape, like a rag doll, so fragile, as he hung limp and still. It now seemed only a minute away from ever beyond saving.