Chapter 7
"I see," said Dumbledore gravely, when McGongall had finally made it to his office, "Thank you for informing me Minerva, I shall go down to the hospital wing now."
It was always such a pity when one became unable to withstand the pain inside them. He was no stranger to grief himself. Though he suspected that none but himself truly understood what was happening with his potions professor. The staff had brought him their concerns about his newfound habits already but so far he had not let it affect his teaching so Dumbledore had let him cope the only way he knew how, hoping that he would realise those habits did not actually help erase one's sorrow. Sadly it seemed to be another poor decision on his part. He seemed to be making a lot of those lately.
He took off his glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose. The occlumency lessons were clearly taking a toll on the man. Dumbledore felt his own cowardice then. He knew what memory Harry saw when he accidentally broke into Snape's mind. Snape didn't have to say much for the old man to guess. It was the one moment Severus wished he could go back and change because that was the moment that completely severed his friendship with Lily Evans. And Dumbledore knew that for all the excuses he made about not wanting to give Voldemort access to his mind etc. his real fear was twofold. One, that Harry would discover the secrets he kept view him in a different light. And two that those painful memories which he kept buried deep within himself would be dredged up again, the pain freshly renewed with them. He had instead passed off the duty to Severus, knowing full well both man and boy would hate the arrangement. He knew when he messed up. And this was one of those times. He was surely partially to blame for the man's present condition.
"How is he Poppy?" he asked the matron, upon arriving at the hospital wing.
"He's sleeping now. I've purged whatever he drank from his system. Nothing toxic, just highly likely to cause hallucinations and delusions. He'll be fine with a good night's rest. And of course a stern warning from you headmaster would be appreciated. He certainly cannot teach the students like that!" she grumbled.
"Of course Poppy, I shall see to it. I leave him in your care then," he said.
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"Okay Harry, explain!" Ginny commanded, when they got back to the common room. All thoughts of confessing had been erased at that point.
Harry groaned. He didn't really feel like explaining everything. It was just too personal. He didn't like Snape but he saw what he went through at the hands of his father. And being bullied himself for the first half of his life, he couldn't help but feel for the man. Maybe his father had grown up eventually but his younger self had definitely been a grade A jerk. Of course Snape as an adult was a huge jerk too so he supposed age didn't equal maturity.
He did however owe Ginny an explanation after that ordeal. It was only fair.
"Well you know how lately Snape's been looking like he drank all the firewhiskey in The Three Broomsticks?" he started.
"Yeah, I've been wondering about that actually," she said, "It's not like him. He's been quite strange recently. And then he basically confessed his love to me but he thinks that I'm in love with you?"
"Well..." he explained about the occlumency, "and basically, I ended up seeing something I'd really rather have not known. I won't say everything because I don't think it's right to be honest but I will tell you this...I think he loved my mother..."
Harry looked faintly green at the statement. He had already surmised they were friends (the horror!) from Snape's memory, but he had no clue how deep the man's feelings ran until earlier that day. The same way those sessions were taking a toll on Harry, it had to have been doing the same for Snape.
"So, I look like your mother then?" was Ginny's conclusion.
"Basically..." he said.
"Oh. Well...thank Merlin we never happened then," she said, finally smiling, "I would have been seriously worried about your mental health."
Harry laughed, relieved.
"I'm glad you see it my way."
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"Hey guys, what happened?" Neville asked.
He had waited for Hermione to be back from her bathroom break, but she never showed. He had just barely made it back to the common room before curfew as he had been hoping she would be back. Even Harry and Ginny never showed up.
But there they were in the common room laughing at he could only guess what. And there was no sign of Hermione.
"Long story Nev," Ginny sighed, "Don't ask but we got held up by Snape and couldn't make it."
"Where's Hermione?" Harry chimed in, once again preoccupied with the object of his affection. Who was not there.
"I have no idea. She left to go to the bathroom and never made it back. I thought she might have met up with you guys and just came back here," he said.
"What? You don't know where she is?" Harry cried, worried.
What if something happened to her? He knew she could take care of herself but what if she was caught by Umbridge or the Inquisitorial Squad? Who knows what they would do to her.
"Don't worry Harry, I'm sure she's fine. Why don't I go check in the dorm?" Ginny said.
"Oh yeah, good idea," he said, calming down slightly. She could have just gone up to bed early like Ron did.
But Hermione wasn't in the dorm. And Harry couldn't find her on the map.
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As it turned out, upon fleeing the scene, Hermione's legs unconsciously led her to the room of requirement where she lay dramatically sprawled on a soft bed and recounted the evening's happenings.
"What!? You like Hermione too?" Harry cried
She knew it was obvious that Harry had misunderstood Snape. But what did he mean by too?
It was almost like...but no!
She was getting ahead of herself. If she let herself have thoughts like that she'd start to hope. And hope was dangerous.
Besides, she must be thinking too highly of herself after all, to even go in that direction with her thoughts. Harry liked Draco anyway. And before Draco it was Cho. She was certainly not his type. He seemed to like them athletic and gorgeous after all, judging by his pattern. Ginny, Cho, Draco...all conventionally attractive and sporty. She was just the bookworm best friend who nagged him and was more like a mother than anything. She had bushy hair and was buck toothed before (ironically) Malfoy of all people gave her the opportunity to have them fixed. Besides, even if he accepted all of that there was no denying that when Ron had been avoiding him in fourth year, Harry was miserable. He definitely didn't enjoy her company as much as Ron's. So how could he...she couldn't even think the words for fear her heart would burst, but how could he feel that way when he couldn't even stand to be in her company without Ron for any extended period of time?
Oh! That was it!
Ron!
It was Ron who liked her!
She remembered his reaction to her and Viktor at the Yule Ball last year. It suddenly made sense. Harry knew that Ron liked her. That's what he meant. He was surprised that someone else other than Ron liked her too. Never mind that Snape was obviously intoxicated and thinking of someone else. The point was that Ron liked her. And while it was flattering, she didn't feel the same. She would have to find a way to let him down gently. Unfortunately she knew she carried a torch for Harry that would be burning for a long time to come, regardless of his feelings or lack thereof for her. She was one of his best friends still and she would always stand by him regardless of whether he returned her feelings or not. That's what friends were for after all.
Oblivious to Harry's sleepless night of worry, Hermione fell into a restful sleep thanks to all the gymnastics her mind had been doing.
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"What's up with you mate?" Ron asked Harry the next morning, "You look like an owl took a fancy to you and tried to mate with your head. No offense."
"Didn't get any sleep," Harry groaned, utterly oblivious to his bloodshot eyes and the state of his hair (which funnily enough actually did resemble a porcupine now), "Can't find Hermione anywhere. On the map that is." Ginny and Neville had convinced him to go up to bed, because if she had been taken by Umbridge, he'd be doing her no favours if he went and got himself caught out of curfew. Plus he needed rest to confront the troll. 'Ha! The troll! How apt!' his sleep deprived brain provided, bringing up an image of him saving Hermione from a troll in their first year. Only now its face was replaced by Umbridge's. It was a good comparison, if he did say so himself. (He wouldn't mind sticking a wand up her nose. She'd certainly deserve it more than the poor troll who had only been there thanks to Quirrel and his close 'friend'.)
Of course rest he did not as he'd spent the entire night scouring the map, hoping that he'd simply missed her dot.
"What? Don't be silly Harry, of course she'd be on the map, everyone is!" said Ron, unable to fathom how Hermione could possibly not show up on the genius map, "Even Wormtail showed up remember?"
"I know that Ron, why do you think I spent all night looking? She must be in trouble!" Harry said, panic lacing his voice. "That's it!" he said, voice raising abruptly and making Ron jump, "I'm going to Dumbledore."
He had so far been avoiding Dumbledore out of anger since it seemed that the old man was avoiding telling him anything and avoiding him on the whole at that. Then he had the nerve to stick him in extra lessons with Snape. (Which mind you he'd never recover from. It was horrific to think that Snape could have possibly been his father if he had played his cards right.) But in any case, this was about Hermione. And when it came to Hermione he'd swallow his pride and stoop to visiting the Headmaster.
"Dumbledore?" said Ron alarmed, "But you never want to see him these days! Besides I'm sure Hermione's fine. Maybe you just need a fresh pair of eyes. Here, give me that." And with that he snatched the map out of Harry's hands and proceeded to search for Hermione himself. If she wasn't there then he'd march to Dumbledore's office himself. He did care about her like a sister after all. If anyone hurt her they would pay! But he didn't see the need to involve the teachers if Harry just missed her. Harry just rolled his eyes sceptically at Ron, whose eyes were now scouring the parchment intently.
"There," he said, pointing triumphantly, "I told you she was fine. See?"
And Harry did see. Hermione-dot was at the Gryffindor table, looking for all intents and purposes like it had never been gone.
Harry begrudgingly conceded that maybe Ron was right and he simply had needed a fresh pair of eyes. He was slightly peeved that Ron had found her so fast, though Ron soothed his prickled feelings by suggesting it was simply luck that he did since she was at his favourite place, (which of course his eyes had been drawn to first, naturally), the breakfast table.
