Chapter 4

'Harry!' Hermione near yelled.

'W-what? Oh sorry.'

They were just leaving second period Herbology where they had had to re-pot mature Mandrake plants - not a nice job by anyone's standards, even Neville's.

'I said are you sure you're alright?'

'She's right mate, you seem really out of it.' Ron's voice came from behind, startling him slightly. Hermione frowned at this.

'Come on or we'll be late for Transfigurations, you know what McGonagall's like if we're late.' Harry pulled his cloak round him tighter; the weather was taking a turn for the worst, though the cool air wasn't the only reason. They hurried on, getting into the classroom just as the second bell rung. What proceeded was a very complicated theory lesson on how to transfigure small inanimate objects into large animated ones. An hour and a foot long homework essay later and the trio walked into the Great hall for lunch, Ron complaining about the homework load which was steadily increasing.

Harry was beginning to get more and more nervous, they had potions next. What was Snape going to do? Harry was pretty sure he'd be angry. He had somehow thrown the teacher across the room, run from him and perhaps worst of all: Snape had seen his greatest fear. Harry ate even less than he normally did, which wasn't very much. They left the hall just before the bell rung, Ron walking with them as he had a free period.

.

He had been watching Potter all day and whatever suspicions he had had, were hardening. People didn't normally act that way, and Severus had had too much contact with those who did. Still he found part of him hoping that the boy was doing it to gain attention. Only time would tell.

The Gryffidors and Slytherins sat in the classroom. All talking ceased as he walked in the room. His presence always had that effect on the students. Potter was sitting at the back with one sidekick, an apprehensive and nervous look on his face. He seemed to sink further down into his chair as the Potions Master's eyes turned to him.

'Today we will be brewing a cough relief potion for the infirmary. Remember to be light-handed with the root of spliget, as it is highly addictive. The instructions,' he waved his wand 'are on the board. You have one hour.'He was too distracted by his thoughts to be his usual nasty self. The students hurriedly pulled out their potions kit and got to work. Snape was notorious for setting difficult potions that didn't allow room for error, and sometimes, well actually most times, they were pressed for time.

He stalked round the room, watching with an experienced eye, checking to make sure none of the class blew themselves up. He came to the back, coming up behind Potter. His foot crunched on a bit of willow bark that had fallen to the floor. The boy jumped and spun round, expressions of dread and panic on his face. Quickly he covered them with a blank one.

'Well done Potter, ten minutes in and you have already ruined your potion. You have broken Longbottom's record.'

…..

Harry glanced down at the potion, which was supposed to be red, but was in fact acid green.

The Slytherins sniggered. Harry felt himself colour slightly, but he didn't reply. Snape would no doubt give him another detention. The evil man in question vanished the contents of his cauldron, so he started again, though he didn't think he would have enough time. He worked hastily, trying to catch up. He didn't want to give his professor something else to comment on. But as he expected, by the end of the period he wasn't finished. He walked out of the dungeons in a bad mood, and it didn't help when Hermione gave him reproachful looks. As she saw it, he should have concentrated more. She was, of course, right but with Snape pacing the classroom he couldn't, it just made him fret. Harry was just relieved that he hadn't mentioned anything of the previous evening. Malfoy would have loved that.

They met up with Ron and went on to Charms, their last lesson of the day.

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(Later the same day)

Snape was striding through the infirmary door with a box of potion for the nurse's stores.

He had come for a check-up after Saturday's escapades, Dumbledore had insisted. He was quite happy to self medicate; he could made whichever potion he needed. But the headmaster reasoned that he might miss something and continually requested, well, told him to go. Poppy looked up from the cabinet she was rummaging in.

'Uh, thank you Severus, if you would put the box on the side and take a seat.' Snape knew the drill; he had been doing it since his school days. She examined him, clicking her tongue fussily. Finally she declared fit to leave.

'Just one thing, Poppy.'

'Yes?' The nurse continued bustling round the room while she spoke.

'When Potter came in on Friday did you notice anything…unusual?

'No, except… well except for some one who had just fallen down the stairs he had no marks, no bruising, nothing, I just found it a bit strange.'

'Anything else?'

'Umm, oh yes, Ronald Weasley was with him, startled him by accident, child flew half way across the room.'

'Thank you.' with that he left.

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Harry grabbed his invisibility cloak and map and headed out of the portrait hole. It was late but sleep held no interest to him. It only contained the odd vision and very real nightmares. Harry shuddered, they were getting worse. His hand went automatically to the stone, one of his few lifelines. It felt comfortably heavy round his neck. Armed with that and his potion he was all right. He could fight the war, save the world and perhaps then find something constructive to do with his life.

He was filled suddenly with anger, it was so unfair! Everything he loved got taken away, and everyone he loved, killed.

And it was all his fault.

No wonder uncle Vernon said those things about him, made Harry repeat them. Every word was true. By this time Harry's feet had taken him to the top of the Astronomy Tower. He sat down on the slate roof tiles, pondering. The edge of the building looked sinisterly inviting.

Could he do that? Could he take his own life and end the misery? Could he leave every one to do what he was meant to? The questions pummelled him from all angles, and as usual one stuck.

Could he murder Voldemort? That's what everything came down to, in the end. Only one would survive, the prophecy had said, only one. He thought deeply, so much was expected of him, how could he do it? He had never felt so alone in his life. He glanced at his watch, three in the morning, he would have to go back, If Ron saw his empty bed, he would get upset.

Poor Ron had been so shocked by him in the infirmary, though he should have known not to come up behind him and put his hand on his back, of all places. Harry had noticed that he and Hermione were being a bit protective lately. It touched him that they cared, but that would only make the inevitable parting harder.

Sighing, he stretched his stiff muscles gently, absently took some potion and began the long walk back to the Gryffidor tower.