That was the last thing I could have expected from Snape. And to be honest, nothing had ever frightened me to this extend. At first, I stiffened, having no idea what to do. Only after a while, I came back to my senses and started to push him away from myself, even though he was a man much taller than me.

If one had thought that the kiss I had just got had been in any way romantic and sensitive, they would have been completely wrong. I had never thought that something that should be inherently romantic, could be so barefacedly stripped of romanticism. I had not been able to feel anything good or warm in it, even though that was what I had always thought my first kiss would look like. That my heart would be hammering in my chest, and a whole flock of butterflies would start fluttering their tiny wings in my stomach. Right now, though, I felt nothing but anger, fear and disgust.

Finally, Snape moved away from me, but I had no idea what was the expression on his face, because I did not even want to look at him. I could only pray that he would not be smirking triumphantly again.

"Leave," I whispered. "Leave now."

I did not hear his steps, but I knew that he could move so quietly that my hearing nothing did not mean anything. That was when I realised that there were tears in my eyes. I wiped them away with one, quick motion of my hand, feeling irritated. To my complete surprise, when I only opened my eyes, I noticed that Snape had not left my chamber, like I had asked him to.

What was more, when I turned my face away to pretend that I did not see him, his hand once again rested on my cheek, his thumb wiping away the remains of my tears.

"You still think I'm cold?" he asked, his voice sounding strange – I was not able to define the feelings that pierced through it, but I definitely could not link it to Snape. It made me feel even more lost, and that in turn led me towards even deeper aversion towards him.

Why had he not listened to me? Maybe if he had left when I had told him to, I would feel better now, thanks to which I would not be so angry at him. Instead, he stood there, stubbornly, as though his only fate was to pretend to be my shadow.

"You are heartless, Professor, I've asked you to leave," I repeated, my voice trembling with anger.

It was definitely the worst Christmas I could have ever imagined. Suddenly I regretted that I had not left the castle when I had still been able to, then I would spare myself all those unnecessary meetings with Snape. I did not know why he could not understand that I found it hard to even imagine being friends with him. I did not even want to go even a step further.

"I still believe there are matters we should..." he began but I really did not intend to listen to him anymore.

"You had your five minutes. You used them as you saw fit, now I'm asking you to go out and leave me alone."

"I am not used to being interrupted," he growled, his voice changing instantaneously. He looked at me in such anger as though I was the one who had hurt him.

"And I'm not used to the fact that a person, who is old enough for him to be my father, imposes on me like that."

I knew I should not have said that; I really did not want to hurt his feelings, but I was so vexed that I could not control myself, even though I tried to calm down very much.

"So this is your problem, then? My age?" he hissed, a grimace upon his face. "If I were any younger, you would stop treating me as if I were your enemy?"

"I haven't said that."

"But have you thought that?" he snapped. "Or maybe you have just assumed in advance that I was not worthy of your attention at all?"

I trembled. Did he really think that he could put all the blame for his failures on me? It was enough for me to assume that there was no reason for me to try to like him. Perhaps I liked him even less than before.

"Please, just go away," I whispered, closing my eyes.

This time, he did not answer. I could hear his heavy, fast breathing when he moved away from me. After a coupld of seconds the door closed behind him, and I was left alone.

The gifts remained intact until the Christmas dinner. I was not in the mood for celebration, but having been crying for a few hours, I decided that it would be better to leave the room. Besides, I had not appeared for the previous meals; my absence during dinner would definitely be noticed, and I did not want to have to explain myself.

I could only hope that I would not see Snape again that day in the Great Hall. After our morning conversation, I did not think I could look him in the eye... and was Christmas dinner not supposed to bond whatever had been severed before. We were supposed to forgive each other on that day, but I could not imagine forgiving that person.

"Darcie!" I heard Neville's voice, full of relief. "I was afraid you got sick."

I forced myself to smile, even though I had a feeling that it looked more like a grimace. Even at him I could not look the same way I had until now. Not after what I had heard from Snape. How much of what he had told me was true? How much in turn was a lie, which would be a way for him to separate me from my friend?

"I had a difficult morning," I answered, but even though I really did try to sound convincing, Neville must have heard I was lying.

"Darcie, you... have you been crying?" he asked hesitantly, tipping my chin up with his fingers, forcing me to look into his eyes. There was not a chance he would not see the trails left by my tears, even though I had done all I could to get rid of them.

"Yes," I laughed shortly. "In the morning I kicked the corner of my bedside table."

He frowned slightly, but did not add anything else; it seemed he had understood that I did not want to talk about that, and I was grateful to him. He wanted to take my hand, but I avoided it, hoping that it was not too awkward.

When we entered the Great Hall, I noticed that there were less people left than I had thought. I was also quite relieved that Snape was nowhere to be seen, so I did not have to pay much attention to all the inconveniences that could take place.

"You need to tell me about everything that happened today," I told Neville who, having heard my words, smiled softly.

"Today? Nothing interesting. I woke up in the morning and opened my presents... thank you for that set of Dargon-hide gloves, they are wonderful," he assured me and I smiled back. I had almost forgotten what I had given him. "I came here for breakfast... but you weren't here, to my discontent, but at least Snape seemed to be in a very bad mood... good. He didn't appear for lunch."

I blushed, but it probably remained unnoticed by Neville. Anyway, he did not ask any questions, and I was thankful for that.

"On the other hand, McGonagall seems to be twenty years younger, I've never seen her so joyous."

I could not help but smile. The thought of the Headmistress alone definitely made me feel better. After all, I really liked her and believed that she deserved all the best. And lately, she had not seemed to be herself.

Truth be told, I wondered why she left the castle so often. What – or whom – did she look for? Or maybe she did something completely different? And if so, what else could that be? The whole situation had begun to worry me, especially that it was just one of many signs that the school could be facing danger.

We sat down at our usual spots, and Flitwick moved the tray with wizard crackers closer to us. I raised one of my brows, and he giggled. He already had a hat decorated with a great, stuffed eagle on his head. I could not help but laugh out loud.

Neville took the cracker and offered it to me. After a moment of hesitation, I pulled it with him. It went off with a bang, and from the cloud of blue smoke emerged a fake wand. It looked strikingly like one straight from a Muggle toy shop.

"Gorgeous," I laughed.

"It suits you perfectly," said a voice right over ouf heads. My stomach jumped up to my throat, then fell down at an unbelievable speed.

Neville looked up, trying to crush Snape with just his eyes; Snape just smirked ironically, awakening unconceivable fury in me.

"Just like your companion."

The cracker in my hand went off out of sudden, burning my face. I had not noticed until now how hard I had squeezed it. It had been a while since I had last control like that. Snape, though, did not seem to be flurried.

"Severus, why not get some butterbeer?" said McGonagall suddenly, glancing at us from behind Flitwick's back. It seemed she must have noticed something had happened, and now she tried to calm the situation.

"No, thank you," answered Snape coolly. "I have something to entertain me here."

I stood up. Neville caught my hand, trying to sit me back down, because he knew that it could not end up well... but i was not going to sit down. I was breathing heavily, my heart hammering in my chest, as though it tried to make a way out.

I had not pulled my wand out yet, but only remnants of my will held my hand in check. I was afraid that I would lose control over myself and attack Snape in front of everyone gathered in the Great Hall. I did not want to do that, but at the same time, I could not allow him to begin to take it out on Neville and me.

"Severus, I insist," growled McGonagall and the tranquility on her face was soon replaced with irritation. Her lips were pursed again.

Some muscle in Snape's face twitched slightly, but the man himself made no move. He kept staring at me, but his eyes... maybe it was just my imagination, but I would swear that I did not see any anger in his eyes – rather a warning.

"Sit down, Shirley," he hissed, but I did not intend to listen to him. "Sit down or something bad will happen to you."

"You will not be speaking to her like that."

Now even Neville stood up. The eyes of all the students were fixed on us. I knew that it would end up badly.

"No... it's all right, Neville," I whispered, which made Snape raise his brow. Slowly he turned his head to the side and looked at Neville.

"A knight in his shining armour? Rather not... seems to be a cowardly Squib," he said quietly. "And I thought you were ambitious, Shirley."

I did not even know when my hand reached to the pocket of my robe, my fingers closing around the wand. I did not want to pull it out, but I managed to stop myself at the last second. Neville probably did not notice what I wanted to do, because he let go of me.

"Have you told him about your morning yet?" he asked even more quietly, making sure, though, that my friend could hear every single word of his.

"Severus." McGonagall had approached us and stared at us. "Please, do join us. Shirley, Longbottom, sit back down."

Snape left along with the Headmistress and I, whether I wanted it or not, fulfilled her request. I still could hear the hum of blood rushing through my veins, though. Neville soon took his seat right next to me. I, however, did not even look in his direction, even though I knew perfectly well that he kept looking at me persistently.

The eyes of the students finally turned away from us, and the Great Hall was again filled with quiet buzz of voices, sometimes broken by the cracker exploding or someone bursting out laughing.

"What was Snape talking about?" asked Neville after a while, glancing askance at the Potions Master. He sat at the other end of the table, so he could not notice that. He did not talk to anyone, though, and paid no attention to the sweets that Professor Sinistra offered him.

For a moment I ignored Neville, but he then repeated my name several times. Besides, I needed to look away from Snape, so it would not seem suspicious.

"Nothing," I mumbled, staring at my hands, still a bit burned from the explosion of the wizard cracker. "He... must have mixed something up."

"Darcie, I beg you." Neville's voice made it clear that he had really become quite serious. "You really can be honest with me while talking about such things."

But not about this, Neville, not about this, I thought, then sighed. After all, how was I supposed to tell him about what had happened in my chamber so early in the morning? About Snape having opened his heart to me?

Now, as I thought it, I felt a prickle of guilt in my heart. Maybe I really had been too harsh towards Snape? It was true that I could not feel anything warm for him, but had there truly been no other way for me to tell him...?

"It's not something I should be talking about with you. Certainly not here," I told him finally, then took a sip of my butterbeer. Pleasant warmth began to spread slowly across my body, making me feel strangely sleepy.

"So maybe we could leave?" suggested Neville.

I blinked a few times, trying to focus my eyes on him, but it turned out to be impossible. My sleepiness did not wear off, moreover, I started feeling dizzy. I looked at the mug full of butterbeer not really knowing what I was doing.

"Darcie...? Darcie!" repeated Neville, but I was not able to answer. I wanted to stand up, but no sooner had I done that than I lost my balance, and although I did lean on the table, before I realised what was happening, I lost my consciousness.