AN: I feel like I'm finally hitting my stride here in chapter 10 as an author, let me know what you think?

Chapter 10- Detention

Angelina was excitedly telling me about her Quidditch team. Much too enthusiastic for a Monday morning, I thought to myself, stifling a yawn. After my late-night conversation, I hadn't gotten to bed until late in the morning. I still felt tired from the weekend's events and just never got a chance to rest. I ran my hand through my hair and that I hardly had a chance to wave my wand through it, having slept in until the last possible moment.

"And you should have seen Ron this morning, he's really coming along. He's from a great family of fliers and it shows, it does. He caught most of our goals last night, even Ginny's and she doesn't hold back..."

I made a note of positive encouragement. It really was too early for any conversation at all. My robes had several wrinkles in them from where they had laid on my floor the day prior, I thought sadly as I walked into the Common Room with Angelina.

Fred was waiting for us at the bottom of the stairs. "Slept in, did you two? I thought maybe you left early, and I missed you." he fell in line beside us. "If we're lucky, we may make it to the Great Hall before breakfast is over."

Angelina looked suspiciously at Fred. "Don't you and George normally go down together?"

"Time change, Angelina," he said cryptically.

She raised her eyebrows, then glanced at me, but didn't say anything.

We took our regular spots at the Gryffindor table next to the other seventh years. I reached for the coffee and poured myself a steamy, hot cup. "Mmhmm," I groaned as the first sip of the perfectly bitter liquid.

"Someone is enjoying themselves," George quipped at me.

"We all need our vices," I replied, taking another sip, willing it to chase away the tendrils of exhaustion from the weekend.

"Looks like you aren't alone in needing coffee," George said to me, gesturing up to the Great table the professors.

I followed his gesture to where Professor Snape sat, if possible, looking even more surly today than I had previously seen him. His hair hung lank around his face, as if he hadn't showered, and his eyes hung stark against his pale skin, rimmed by dark circles. He looked unwell, sick even, what could be wrong with him? I bit my fingernail, studying my professor's change in appearance since last week.

As if he could hear my thoughts, although he had told me himself he couldn't, he raised his eyes up from his steaming coffee to glance around the hall across the tables, his gaze finally landed, lightning quick on mine, then Fred, who was animatingly talking to Angelina about their Quidditch practice over the weekend. Then he was looking around the hall again. I blinked and looked down at my coffee, seeing my own distorted reflection in the liquid. Stop worrying about it, I sternly told my reflection. He probably got into a fight with his girlfriend, I thought viciously, recalling how he had slipped away that night I was in the Hospital Wing.

Breakfast was cleared away and I walked with my fellow Gryffindors up to Transfiguration, where we moved from theoretical application to learning the exceptions and practical applications to Gamp's Law. The first half of the lesson was lecture, then we were to practice exceptions to the rule, one of which involved conjuring water, an easy spell, but also conjuring wine.

"As you all know, most food cannot be conjured, but consumable things such as sauces, wine, and potable water can be." McGonagall lectured. "For today we will be practicing the food exceptions to Gamp's law."

"What about the wine, professor?" Fred asked cheekily.

"You will have to experiment with that after leaving Hogwarts, Mr. Weasley," she rebutted seriously.

In Charms, Flitwick began by flicking his wand and collecting our assignments. "Yes, you got all the coffee off of my homework," I whispered to Fred, watching the scrolls zoom through the air.

Alicia quipped, "What were you two doing, spilling coffee onto assignments?"

Fred bantered, "Wouldn't you like to know?"

I looked away from my friends as Flitwick began lecturing today about a charm he swore was vital for passing our NEWT exams, charming vinegar into wine.

Fred and George pumped fists in the air. "McGonagall wouldn't let us conjure wine," he explained to Flitwick's curious look.

"Yes, well, unlike some of the other professors, I have faith in your ability to surreptitiously use whatever charms you learn in this classroom, now act like it!" Flitwick admonished. We moved to the front of the classroom to each fill a pot with vinegar.

"This spell is a nonverbal, so it will take finesse with the wand movements and intention to correctly charm your vinegar."

Flitwick made his way over to our table, adjusting Lee's arm motions to something more subtle. "You're not making firewhiskey, but wine, be gentle," he admonished.

I concentrated on my vinegar and the wand motion. This was a spell I had never done before; it wasn't part of Ivermony's curriculum. There was a particularly finicky wand swish and I practiced the motion several times with some difficulty before pointing it at my vinegar. The vinegar shimmered as if a breeze had blown over it, turning from white liquid to a dark red.

"Excellent work, Ms. Morgans. Ten points to Gryffindor" Flitwick encouraged. He conjured a spoon and sampled my wine. "A little bitter perhaps, but successful for a first try."

I smiled. "So, Professor, on our previous assignment I was reading some nuances of nonverbal applications..." Flitwick and I had a nice chat about technicalities of nonverbal spells.

I found myself back at lunch before I knew it, the morning had come and gone like a lightning bolt. I helped myself to a serving of caesar salad, stifling a yawn and looking for more coffee, but finding none.

Alicia was talking to Angelina next to me, her face was flushed. "That Umbridge woman really is something, did you hear what she did to the fifth-year class?"

"No," Angelina said slowly. "Should I have?"

"Everyone should have. They're to learn no defensive spells, not a surprise seeing as how she's treated us this year, but that's not the problem. The problem occurred when Harry decided to speak out, he said that You-Know-Who was back in front of the whole classroom-"

"No!" Angelina exclaimed.

My fork clattered to my plate as I turned to my two housemates. "Excuse me?"

"Oh, that's right," Alicia said, taking my shocked expression for interest, and eagerly kept recounting the story. "He stood up to her in front of the whole class, well I heard this from Ron, anyways, and he wouldn't back down. So, she gave him detention! The whole week,"

Angelina groaned. "What about Quidditch practice?"

The smile slid off of Alicia's face. "I didn't think about that…"

"Maybe we could try having him speak to Umbridge?"
"Yeah, that could work. I'm sure if you mention how important it is to our team, to be unified, she'll understand. Appeal to her ministry side."

Angelina was nodding along. "Yeah… that'll work."

"Anyways, I've got to get running to Potions. Don't want to be late today," Alicia said, pushing back her plate and standing up.

Fred stood up too. "I've fancied a walk."

"You really don't have to walk with us every day." Alicia scoffed. "Cody will still be here after our lessons!"

"Just exactly what I'd like," said Fred cryptically. "Shall we?"

"Thanks," I muttered to Fred. We walked as a group down into the Dungeons to where the handful of seventh years were waiting outside of the classroom again, its heavy door locked. I approached with apprehension, looking for Montague. A pit of worry gnawed my stomach, my lunch turning over, sick with apprehension. He wasn't there. Yet.

Fred's jaw had been set. "Right. I'll just wait with you two until the door opens."

Alicia laughed and looked at me with a glance of something akin to jealousy, tucking a thick lock of hair behind her ear. "Right. Well, as I was saying, the cauldron bottoms this year were simply abysmal, I could practically see the patches in mine… it's an accident waiting to happen."

"Alicia, I'll have you know I know simply the best authority on cauldron bottoms in all of Britain."

"You do?"

"Yes. Unfortunately for you, he's the biggest git in all of Britain as well."

I snorted out a laugh and Alicia stifled her giggles in her hand. "Who is this?"

"My brother Percy. Would you like me to owl him for you? Put in a good word?"

"Oh, I don't know," Alicia said indecisively. "Let me think about it. After all, a wizard who knows his cauldron bottoms is hard to pass up."

The door to the Potions classroom slammed open. Roger Davies cautiously stuck his head in, and finding no danger, entered the classroom. The other classmates followed behind. "Guess I'll see you two after lessons, then," Fred said, waving as he walked down the hall.

Alicia and I walked into the Potions classroom. "Gosh, he sure must fancy you. He doesn't just walk any girl to her classes. In fact, I've never seen Fred away from George that long."

I smiled a small, fake smile at Alicia. "It's something like that," I muttered, taking my place next to Roger Davies. Professor Snape was sitting in the front of the classroom, bent over papers at a desk in front of the chalkboard. Up close, I mused, he looked more exhausted. His skin had a sallow appearance, and his eyes looked distant, almost empty. His expression was curiously blank as well, as if he was physically present but mentally absent. He was viciously scratching something on the parchment with a quill dipped in red ink. He dipped his quill back into the inkwell with a fine tremor in his long fingers.

Definitely not well, I mused, my previous worry from breakfast coming back. I wonder what happened to Professor Snape where he would look so… different than the last time I had seen him. He looked like he hadn't slept a wink over the weekend, which put him leagues more exhausted over me. He even looked sick, like he had gotten the flu or been hexed with a particularly nasty jinx.

The class had silently assembled into their seats while I had been observing the Potions professor. We waited silently for class to start, nobody talking, not even the Slytherins Pucey and Warrington. Montague hadn't shown up yet. I was greatly relieved by his absence.

Professor Snape waved his wand and the Potions door shut. I jumped at the sound of the heavy door slamming into place. He stood up from his seat, pointing at the blackboard. "Instructions are on the blackboard. There will be no talking. Begin brewing."

I squinted at the board, reading the fine, cursive font, "Skele-Gro: A Potion for Repairing Broken Bones. Page 113. Ingredients: 1 Chinese chomping cabbage, 3 pufferfish, 5 scarab beetles…" And so, the list went.

I groaned. "Of course."

"Of course what?" Alicia asked.

"Oh- nothing." I moved to the supply cabinet, grabbing ingredients and bringing them back to my desk. Next to me, Robert Davies was chopping his beetles with the dull edge of a knife. I adjusted the base of my cauldron and set a base in with a warming stasis charm and began chopping as well. The beetles were hard shelled and proved to be difficult to cut, they kept skidding across my workstation. Cursing silently under my breath, I grabbed a beetle and hit it firmly with my knife, finally cracking the thing with a sickening crunch. I threw the last of them in my potion and set to stirring it for the next few minutes. Eleven clockwise, thirteen counterclockwise. I looked up at the board to study the next instructions, but my eyes slipped towards my Potions professor. He still sat at the desk, much the same that he had when we first filed into the classroom. Why hadn't he gotten up to move around, like he normally did? Could he walk? No, that was nonsense, he had to have been able to walk, I had seen him in the Great Hall this morning… I frowned, inspecting him for any other outwards signs of damage. He hadn't looked up from his grading. Even that in itself was strange. I had never known Professor Snape to be anything less than vigilant.

I finished the last stir of my potion, then grabbed some southwestern Artemisia tridentata leaves, grinding them to a dust in a mortar as I stifled a yawn. The coffee from this morning had worn off. I added them to my potion, tapping my wand against the rim three times, the potion turned a silvery white color, giving off a pearly white mist.

An hour ticked by with no noise but the potions being made. Nobody dared to speak. Next to me, Roger Davies was crushing his own Artemisia tridentata leaves, a look of intense concentration on his face that furled his brows. He threw in his powered leaves and tapped the potion twice. His potion turned a silvery green color, giving off a thick gray-green smog. He looked up to the instruction board, reading it over, mouth moving silently as he tried to figure out where he went wrong. I could see him counting his remaining beetles and pufferfish, then recounting.

I turned to him. "You tap your wand against the cauldron three times. You've only tapped it twice… I think you could still tap it again and rescue your potion."

Roger Davies tapped his cauldron and the gray-green smog slowly faded to a pearly white mist. "Thanks, ah…" his expression of gratitude faded away like the gray-green smog of his potion, instead replaced with fear. He hurriedly turned away from me and back to his potion.

"Talking? I should hope not, for both the sake of Gryffindor and Ravenclaw's house cups." A voice drawled behind me. It was Professor Snape. He looked haughtily down at me past his prominent nose, a sneer on his features. I met his eyes with my own and he narrowed his eyes at me. I could see the etches of black under his eyes, and his lips were drawn to a tight line, the fists of his hands clenched into a fist, maybe to stop the tremor. The rest of the classroom had stopped brewing to look. Alicia had taken a few very small quick steps back. I met her eyes and she shook her head, looking fearful.

"Yes, just clarifying a direction." I elaborated.

"There will be no discussion today. A competent potioneer at a NEWT level must be able to rely on themselves to perform the task at hand adequately by themselves or suffer the consequences of a brew gone wrong."

"But…"

"Disobeying instructions is not tolerated for my first years, let alone my seventh-year students. As you would know if your curriculum had been standardized. Yours has evidently been… lacking."

I flushed with shame and anger and felt my eyes water. He would not make me cry. If I could take Dark wizards hunting me, I could take one Potion master's insults, dammit!

"Ah, give it a rest, Professor." Alicia chimed in. She looked at me with her chin out, bravely saying. "Cody's new, cut her some slack. And she's tired today anyways, she didn't mean to slip up."

"A little tired, are we?" he sneered. "And what reason could that be?"

I flushed and looked away from him. He should damn well know what kind of weekend I'd had, after all, he'd visited me in the Hospital Wing! And then… everything else that had happened too. I hadn't rested properly for several days and it was just the coffee keeping me going at this point.

"Maybe rather than focusing on your… personal pursuits, you would be wiser to focus on your academic pursuits. Detention tonight with me at 7 pm. Davies, you will report to Filch at 7 pm."

Roger Davies flinched and took a half step away from me, as if dissociating himself with me would lessen the punishment.

I gasped. "But-"

"I will not tolerate any arguments. There will be no more talking today." Professor Snape had turned away from me with a flourish of his robes, striding slowly back to the desk.

I angrily stewed and chopped my way through the rest of the lesson. The room remained dead silent until the end of the hour.

"I'm sorry, Cody, that was so unfair," Alicia told me after Potions had ended.

"It's okay," I threw some extra supplies into my book bag. "Good thing we haven't got any pressing assignments due tomorrow."

Fred was waiting for us in the hallway.

"Jeez, Fred!" Alicia chastised him. "Don't you have pranks to be pulling with George?"

"How do you know this isn't one?" he answered airily as we walked back along the halls.

Alicia looked around her, as if expecting dung bombs to fall from the ceiling. Knowing Fred, they very well might have been, at one point. I laughed. "No, Fred is just doing me a favor… showing me around the castle, after getting lost here one too many times."

Alicia relaxed some. "Oh, okay. I thought it was a little early for you two to be dating."

Fred laughed and ran his hand through his hair. "Any juicy relationship drama and you'll be the first to know, as always."

Alicia snickered back. "You better."

I laughed and resisted the urge to blush. First Angelina, now Alicia. Nothing passed by my astute roommates, even if they were drawing the wrong conclusions.

I spent some time in the Common Room tackling a transfiguration assignment with Angelina. Fred had left with George; he hadn't told me where he had snuck off to.

"And of course, the wine the twins so want to conjure…" Angelina muttered to herself as her quill scratched the parchment.

I stifled a yawn and stood up. "Well, guess I better go to detention."

Angelina looked at me. "Detention?"

"Oh, yeah. I got detention with Professor Snape today."

Angelina shuttered. "Good luck. I'm so happy I dropped potions class. He was a right strict professor, too intense if you ask me, I was always afraid I'd say the wrong thing around him."

"It sure seems that way," I muttered, mumbling goodbye and heading out into the corridor.

I stood outside the heavy door to the Potion room, the door was cracked slightly. I rocked back on my heels, clenching a fist, just do it! And knocked.

"Enter," A silky smooth voice commanded.

I pushed open the door. Professor Snape was at the same desk he was earlier in the day, this time with several large tomes open around him.

"Good evening, sir,"

He didn't look up from his reading.

"Your detention tonight will be to scrub out the first-year cauldrons without magic," he gestured to a large pile of haphazardly stored cauldrons.

"Without magic?" I balked.

"If you break the rules, you will suffer the consequences. You may begin," he turned back to his reading, for all intents seemed to be utterly ignoring me.

I huffed out a sigh and moved over to the pile of cauldrons. I groaned, counting them. There were over fifty cauldrons! This would take me all night.

I donned a pair of dragonhide gloves that had been left out and began scrubbing the first cauldron. Thick, odorous black sludge was caked on the bottom. I scrubbed at it viciously until it was clean, then moved onto the next one. Minutes ticked by, then an hour, then an hour and a half as I slowly scrubbed my way through the cauldrons. Stupid detention, I could have these all done in under a minute if I could just use magic… my time could be better spent elsewhere, besides, I would rather be doing homework than chores for my Potions professor. I glared at my surly professor. He was reading a heavy brown-cover book. And he looked… absolutely exhausted, I realized. He looked even worse than from Potions today. His eye shadows had grown even more pronounced, and as he turned the page in his book, I saw his hand tremor.

"You're staring." his curt voice broke the silence, eyes not leaving his book.

"You look unwell, sir," I blurted out.

"My health is of no concern of yours."

"I know… it's just… couldn't you go to Madam Pomfrey? She can patch you up."

Professor Snape's voice had taken on an icy tone as he turned a page in his text. "Go back to scrubbing cauldrons."

I made a face at him and looked down at my cauldrons. I hadn't even done twenty yet. Sighing heavily, I grasped the nearest dirty cauldron and kept scrubbing.

"You were incredibly foolish." Professor Snape's voice interrupted the silence.

"I know, I know, be quiet when you say to…" I replied.

"That isn't what I'm referring to."

"What is?" I asked.

He remained silent. A minute ticked by. I grew inpatient. "I can't read minds, unlike you!"

"It's not mind reading," he pinched the bridge of his nose. "Informing that fool Weasley boy,"

"What?" I asked, bewildered. Then it sunk in. "Oh, you sneak! Are you spying on my private conversations?"

Professor Snape put a bookmark in his book and calmly closed it. I threw the rag I was using into the cauldron and stood up, feeling the heat in my neck rise. "That's an invasion of my privacy,"

"Americans and your idealistic terms of privacy. No, I was not trying to spy on you. The Weasleys are particularly easy reads, and try as I might, his mind all but shouted the news at me during breakfast."

"I don't believe it."

"Fortunately, the truth doesn't hinge on the whim of your beliefs," Severus retorted. "The information he has may be very dangerous for you."

I frowned at him. "Why?"
Professor Snape tilted his head, still not looking at me. "Why do you think?"

"Because… Dumbledore wants me all alone?"

Professor Snape snorted. "That is assuming he cares about your friendships,"

"So, you're saying he doesn't care about me." I put my hands on my hips. Maybe I could wring some information out of Professor Snape after that shady conversation I had overheard in the hallway.

"I am saying you simply should seek out the most rational reason by evaluating the evidence. The circumstances that have the most logical conclusions are often the correct ones."

I frowned at him. "If it's not Dumbledore, why should it matter? I hate lying to my friends. I feel so dishonest."

"Think it through." Professor Snape opened his book again.

I stood there, hands on my hips, frowning and at a loss. I grabbed my rag and angrily scrubbed another cauldron, wordlessly fuming. Why couldn't he just tell me? The evidence I had did point to Dumbledore wanting me all to himself… as a weapon. But Professor Snape said that wasn't right. He couldn't know that I had information, anyways. Why should it matter if I told anyone? I didn't want my life to be a lie forever. Nobody would have ever known anyways if Professor Snape didn't have to go snooping... Fred was good on his word. Wait, he hadn't said that he was snooping, what was it? That Fred had "all but shouted it," at breakfast. An icy pit grew in my stomach.

"Professor, how common is Legilimency?"

"Uncommon."

"How many here at Hogwarts?"

"Professor Dumbledore is quite adept. And so am I,"

I groaned. "Professor Dumbledore will know everything I tell Fred,"

"If he so chooses," he replied evenly.

"But… he's not the one I have to worry about, is he? At least not right away… Professor, how many dark wizards use Legilimency?"

Professor Snape nodded and closed his book again. "The Dark Lord is particularly adept, as are a number of his followers."

I groaned. "So basically, if they were to happen across Fred, they would know exactly what you do,"

He nodded. "You see the gravity of the situation."

"Is it like that for everyone you use mind reading on?"

"Once again, it is not mind reading," he corrected me, long fingers tapping the page of his book. "And no, everyone has different innate abilities of shielding, different nuances of their minds. I find the Weasley family in particular to be very easy to read, especially the younger ones who have no formal training in basic mind skills."

"Oh great," I threw up my hands in exasperation. "The one person who was an easy read was the person I told. Just my luck! Why didn't anyone just tell me?" I fumed, throwing the rag down again, anger at the lies and embarrassment on my own part.

"I cannot speak for the Headmaster, but I was ensured that you were fully informed on the gravity of the situation."

"Well, that sucks."

"Indeed."

I scrubbed angrily at an offensive-looking cauldron for a few moments. I was so stupid… but it was so hard to be alone all the time. I was so sick of it. Since coming to Hogwarts, it had been nothing but lies that I was telling other people, nothing but lies Dumbledore had been telling me. And I had so much to deal with on top of being a new student, my Occlumency skills and the Dark Lord and my parents who were still vanished without a trace, no idea where they went. And fat luck I would be finding them here… lying to people.

"It is so hard to lie to everyone," I vocalized my thoughts.

Professor Snape cocked an eyebrow and met my eyes. "You get used to it."

"How would you know?" I asked angrily.

An expression too quick for me to see passed over his face before I could read it. "You're right. Did you tell the Weasley boy Occlumency skills, or your lessons with me?"

"No," I rubbed my face, tired.

Professor Snape let out an exhale. "This may be salvageable yet. Ms. Morgans, it is imperative that you never tell him."

"Another secret to keep," I couldn't keep the bitterness out of my voice.

"Those secrets you keep save countless lives. A small sacrifice."

"Okay," I replied, voice small. Message received. Quit being selfish. A pang of guilt washed over me. At the expense of my own emotional needs I put others in danger. I would have to be alone. "Did I ruin things by telling him?"

"Time will tell," he replied mysteriously. "Tell him no more about your whereabouts or yourself, his tailing you has gotten tiresome after not, but a day and I am not the only professor to notice. The school is rife with rumors in a time when you should be trying to blend in. For now, we will allow it to continue. I am not in the business of putting memory charms on people, unlike the Headmaster."

"So, Dumbledore doesn't know yet?" I gasped.

"The Headmaster has been busy with other matters, otherwise I'm certain he would have been as preoccupied as I."

"You're going to tell him," I stated, distrust tinging my voice.

"If I must."

"And what will that be?"

"If it directly begins to impact anyone's safety that is under my care."

"I just don't believe Fred is that big of a risk," I argued with him, knowing I wanted reassurance that I wouldn't get.

"It is not his intentions but lack of protections that identify him as a risk. There was more than one reason why he wasn't inducted into the Order."

I threw up my hands. "Of course, you knew about that. It seems like the Order could train it's new recruits in defense if he was that big of a security risk."

"And who would train them?" Professor Snape countered.

"Why not you? Or Dumbledore?"

He laughed, one quick bark. "We both are tied up in other affairs."

"Like where you went this weekend?" I countered.

The mask of his face was back, his dark eyes met mine with his expression inscrutable. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"You… you left after you saw me in the hospital wing. I saw you leave. Out the front gates." An idea dawned on me, I rushed on, excited. "Is that why you're injured today? Something from the Order this weekend? Did you get into a fight?"

Professor Snape scowled at me, not deeming me with a reply.

"It was, I knew it!"

"You are entirely too observant for your own good."

I gasped and took a step towards him. "But, sir, you're injured… we should do something"

"I am fine," he thundered. "I believe the detention has served its purpose," Professor Snape said, standing up from his desk, turning away from me. And despite his proclamations of good health, staggered after one step and caught his balance on the desk with his free hand.

I rushed over to him and without thinking put my arm under his shoulder. I tried not to notice his arm that was firm and muscular under my support, the thickness of his robes was a heavy wool blend. He was breathing heavily, eyes shut, mouth a tight line of pain.

"Professor, you're unwell… we should bring you down to the Hospital Wing."

He shook his head. "No… it's fine… Poppy can't help… just needs time…"

"No, really, sir," I argued.

He shook his head and grabbed the desk, stepping away from me, swaying slightly.

"You're shaking," I noted, looking at his arms with a tremor on the desk.

"Leave me be," he commanded through pinched lips.

I swallowed my nerves. "If I left you, I don't think you would make it back to your office, let alone wherever you go at night."

He didn't say anything, just stood there, trembling, jaw set in a stubborn expression. His face looked even more sallow.

"Let me help you. I can help you back to… wherever you need to go, at least." I reached out my arm again to grab his shoulder, but he wrenched violently away from me. His fingers caught mine as he jerked away, their tips searing against my grip in an electric touch. I gasped and instinctively wrapped by fingers around his hand, an automatic response… a craving so deep it was all I wanted in this moment.

I gasped loudly, not daring to move, just feeling his wrist on my hand. I could feel his pulse erratically under my skin. The moments ticked by as we stood connected by this one fragile tie that seemed too important to break, neither of us daring to move.

I raised my eyes, which suddenly felt very heavy, up to meet his. I knew he would be looking at me the second our eyes locked. He was breathing heavily, his previous expression of pain had melted away, replaced by one of shock. His dark eyes widened, his strong jaw gone slack and his lips parted slightly. I knew my eyes were equally wide and shocked, staring back at him, my hand was searing, burning a line of fire that lit my nerves right to my core and connected to the Potions professor.

I gasped as he twisted his hand in mine until his long-fingered hands had ensnared my wrist. Now I was sure it was he that could feel my pulse beating erratically under his hold. I didn't want him to let go. More than anything, his grip was the focus of my world. I inhaled deeply, leaning forward, my senses flooded with his musky, intoxicating aroma. We were mere inches apart, uncomfortably, undeniably close in a way that had a blush creeping up my face and left me wanting more. His eyes broke off my gaze and dropped, scanning my body, his gaze setting my nerve endings on fire. I felt my breast harden under his intense gaze-could he see it through my robes? - then after what felt like an eternity he finally- finally- met my eyes again. I felt my knees go weak and I let out an inadvertent gasp that ended in a strangled moan.

Abruptly, he took a step and wrenched his hand away, clattering his office chair to the floor in his haste. "Leave," he commanded, voice hoarse.

"But…" I protested. I didn't know what I wanted, but I knew leaving was the wrong option.

"Leave!" he roared.

I didn't argue. I fled through the dungeons and ran, not stopping until I was through the portrait, back in the common room, past a bewildered Fred and Angelina. One of them asking me, "Cody where have you been?" I didn't stop to see who was talking, I couldn't think, I mumbled something incoherent, not breaking my stride, and went up to the girl's dormitory, to my four-poster bed, pulling the curtains tight around me.

Read and review!