The next weeks without Severus were monotonous at best, and downright awful at worst. Different teachers rotated their way through his classes, relying on advanced students to help them, and the class was rapidly becoming a bit of a farce. Attendance dropped, and the substituting teachers had trouble enough controlling the students who did show up, no less hunting down those who didn't. Hermione trudged into the dungeons every day though, attempting to quell the small seed of hope that each day would be the day Severus returned. She had only been permitted to visit him once, and she missed him sorely.
Slowly but surely, Hermione was integrating herself back into life in the castle; she would join her classmates at meals, and spend an obligatory hour in the lounge every night, but she was lonely. She the intellectual stimulation that the potions master had provided, and she was still deeply curious about the meetings he had requested. She found herself in the library for hours on end, and telling her classmates that she was still behind in work, then excusing herself to a night of solitude and books.
She was sitting in the library, a book propped up in front of her, absentmindedly flipping the pages, when Ron walked in, a determined expression on his face. He marched over and came to a screeching halt in front of her table, reaching out and closing her book with a snap. Hermione looked up in shock, but held her tongue. Ron appeared to be chocking on words, and she knew he was going to burst any second. His face approaching purple, he took a deep, shuddering breath, and began to rant.
"Look, Hermione, I don't know what your deal is. I know you were sick and whatever, but you need to snap out of it. You have spent the last three weeks in this bloody cloud, and I am so sick of it. Have you noticed that no one comes to find you, to remind you to eat dinner anymore? No one says anything when you sit there in silence every night? Do you think we haven't noticed? I don't know what went on in that dungeon Hermione, but you aren't you anymore. Harry doesn't know what to do, but he won't say anything – he keeps saying you need to figure things out for yourself, but he's hurting. We both are. I thought we were your friends, Hermione."
What had begun a yell, finished a whisper, and as soon as her name left his mouth, Ron turned on his heal and fled the library.
Hermione slumped forward, her head in her hands, and moaned. Ron was right; she had been a terrible friend lately. She didn't know what was wrong with her, but she needed to snap out on it. She stood quickly; almost knocking her chair over, and hastily packed her bag, departing the library at an almost run.
She found her friends in the otherwise empty common room, sitting in the two armchairs by the fire, an untouched chessboard between them. Nervous now, she approached the two boys, and sat on the floor besides them, resting her head on the arm of Harry's chair. She reached her hand out tentatively to Ron, and after a tense moment, he took it. Harry reached down and gently stroked the top of her head, and she sighed softly.
"I'm sorry guys, I'm so sorry," Hermione whispered.
"We love you, Hermione," Harry replied immediately, and Ron nodded.
"I'm sorry I yelled at you," Ron said, "It'll be okay. We just missed you." Hermione squeezed his hand, and the trio sat together silently, watching the fire die.
The next day, Harry, Ron, and Hermione walked down to the dungeons for potions together, chattering happily. In the last three weeks, Hermione had missed her fair share of gossip, and the wizards had happily taken it upon themselves to fill her in. The dim classroom was empty when the entered, but a few other students trickled in after them. They small group continued talking, waiting for their substitute to show up, when the door behind Severus's desk flew opened, and the potions master himself appeared. The room instantly fell silent, and the small class turned to face the front.
"Where is the rest of my class?" Professor Snape asked, his tone deadly quiet. For a moment, no one spoke. Then, Hermione tentatively raised her hand.
"Well, sir, due to the um, quality, of some of your fill-ins, many of our classmates have taken to spending this period…elsewhere," Hermione said.
"So, Ms. Granger, your classmates are skipping class?" Hermione nodded silently. With that, Severus swept from the room, the door slamming behind him. Harry and Ron exchanged the same wide-eyed look, each glad that Hermione had convinced them not to skip class today like they had done the entire week before. For the next ten minutes, no one dared move, and it was eleven minutes on the dot when the potions master swept back into the room. Behind him followed a stream of their classmates, facial expressions ranging from guilty to terrified to indifferent.
When the entire class was seating, Professor Snape waved his wand at the board, where one line of instructions appeared. They were to read chapter eleven of the text, which Hermione had read a week ago, and reread just the night before. She opened her book to the correct page, but propped her head on her chin, and allowed her eyes to close. Though she was fully back to her old routine, she still tired more easily than her classmates.
She was awakened with a jolt.
"Am I boring you, Ms. Granger?" A voice asked icily from immediately behind her.
"No sir, of course not, it's just that I've already read this chapter, twice…" Hermione trailed off, trying to meet his eyes. He refused to make eye contact, and stormed to the front of the room.
"Since Ms. Granger seems to feel this information is quite easily mastered, I'm sure there will be no problem completing an essay on the contents of chapter eleven by tomorrow's class. No shorter than two feet. You can thank your classmate for that," with that, Severus swept from the room. Hermione packed up quietly, tears stinging her eyes, and the glares of her classmates following her out the door.