#chapter2. Catch the sneaker

Ever since Lily's death, Severus thought his life was already over. The only aim supporting his being alive was protecting Lily's son, Harry Potter, from Lord Voldemort.

Protection means a lot, ranging from Potter's normal life to his final war with Dark Lord. Based on his own experience, Dumbledore and himself decided to make him play the actor of double agent.

Talking about the danger of acting in front of the most powerful madman was kind of childish. No one would do that. Neither him, nor Dumbledore. Cause both of them knew that he would never escape from that duty no matter how hazardous it was.

Last night's summon was not a lucky one. One member of theirs, who kept missing before, was killed, just in front of him.

He saw her watery eyes.

He knew she's terrified and despaired and begging him to save her.

Yet he couldn't. He had no choice.

He could just numbly watch her dying, until shadows covered up her eyes and eaten by Nagini.

With More and more Occlumency imaginaries set, ice becoming thicker and thicker in his mind, all he could feel was extremely cold, making him hard to breathe.

The first moment he came back to Hogwarts, he brought this bad message to Dumbledore. The headmaster sagged his shoulders in grief and pointed out his state in no time before letting him back to rest.

As if he could really take a rest. He sneered.

Nightmares would never leave him alone.

Refusing to reflect on his bad dream last night, he got up quickly, put on his dragon boots and black school robe after taking a shower. He frowned as water touching his back, but paid no heed to it while his head was aching enough.

"Bobby." He called his house-elf's name in the air.

As a sound of Pop, the creature with bat ears and freaking huge eyes appeared in his room.

"Yes! What can Bobby do for you, sir?"

"Bring me some tea if you can."

His mind needed to be refreshed. Tea would be a rather clever choice than any other Potions which may lower his constant vigilance.

"Of course, sir." The elf grinned and asked, "Can Bobby also bring Potions Master some breakfast?"

Severus hesitated before nodding and replied, "That would be lovely."

He saw elf's sparkling eyes in its happy and satisfied face. To be honest, it did make him feel kind of uncomfortable. However, he did nothing but just moved away his sight blankly. He knew what that expression came from.

He had not been a breakfast person a few years ago.

Things always changed.

The house-elf disappeared and reappeared with a tray in a few seconds before bidding its leaving.

He never called it any more. He had loads of work left for him to handle with.

Considering those little trolls' nonsense and meaningless essays with countless spelling or grammar mistakes stacking on his desk for him to grade, his headache even got much worse.

Merlin bless him to live to the day of final war.

———————————

Someone is in his office.

As soon as Severus stepped into his dungeon without having dinner, he sensed the air of tension, along with one feeling of being gazed, not strong, subtle like a needle, which could be easily ignored by anyone but him. He stopped instantly out of physical reflex and slipped his wand into his hand quietly. Muscles bunched under his robe, ready to attack in any time.

Believe in your intuition.

—— That's what life taught him.

None of spies would be alive without sharp subtlety and intuition, especially those working in places like him, who had to deal with a powerful madman and a formidable grinning smooth tiger simultaneously.

Who can this sneaker be?This question occurred to his mind.

Definitely not someone from Dark Lord, cause he felt no malice or evil through the whole process. There was a time that he thought this might be Dumbledore, which was dissipated in half of one second. Even as wicked as Dumbledore would not hide in his office like a thief.

Oh, yes. Thief. Not unfamiliar at all.

The answer could be no more than clear.

Potter, in his invisibility cloak, again. Just like his father. Can never learn not to steal things which does not belong to them.

Fury flamed in his heart. He was boiling with indignation and extremely eager to catch the arrogant boy and send him a severe detention before throwing him out of his space.

Yet he didn't.

Not now. He told himself. Do not let emotions control your behaviors. He can do everything to condemn this dunderhead after getting his real intention, which is of vital importance.

With a few times of deep breaths, rages ebbing down, he succeeded in controlling himself. Door was closed and locked by a nonverbal spell behind him in case of Potter's taking flight. He walked in normally, pretending knowing nothing, scrutinizing his office under the casual veil as well.

Frankly speaking, he was a little astonished by Potter's caution showed this time when he found no sign of things' moving, until discovering the wrong side of one jar placed on his shelves. One corner of his lips curled up.

Got you.

"Colloportus!" As soon as he turned back, he hissed the charm with a quick and delicate swing of his wand at the direction where the gaze from.

Just as the light of charm reaching something in front of his desk, a loud sound of collapse revealed one leg from the cloak. Perfect strike with no error.

"Well, well, well." He drawled in an ironic way of pleasure, "It seems like I get a guest here. What a superior honor to me —"

His sound got choked as he saw the student lying on the ground after he pulled back the cloak.

It's not Potter.

It's Granger, Harry Potter's friend, one member of golden trio, the smartest witch of their age.

She was lying there, hopelessly and helplessly and watching him with her terrified and watery eyes.

What a pair of familiar eyes they are when they should not be, calling floods of memories to his mind.

Cold. Freezing cold.

His heart pounded heavily while his empty stomach sank deeply as if being loaded with a marble. Various kinds of emotions under the thick ice boiled over, ending up melting the imagery protection in his mind and triggering the turmoil of his breath.

God, how can she be here?

He spared no effort to box each of his complicated emotions deep into his heart to juggle everything as it was, but failed in vain. Even gritting his teeth did no help to control. Knuckles got white.

With the last glance of ingredients scattering on the ground around her slim body, irritation mixed up with disappointment decidedly drowned out any other mood and could no longer be restrained.

"What the hell are you doing?!" He snapped out.

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