Empathy

- A Harry Potter Fanfic -

*Written by Gale*

Disclaimer - Only the oc is mine. Everyone else belongs to Rowling. In the words of the great Stephanie Lostimolo: "No Touchy, No Stealy. As I side note, I realize this is one of the shortest pieces I've ever put out on the internet. I guarantee it will get longer.

Chapter #2:

There had certainly been times when Severus Snape handled a sticky situation better. As it was, while his order for his hysteric student's to compose herself in the hall left him saving his reputation as a heartless tightass, something about the whole thing made him feel sick to his stomach. All the same, he was able to finish conducting class, and his pupils were more anxious than usual to pile themselves out of the door once he dismissed them. Their near simultaneous exits, as with the rest of the hour, had not managed to purge from his mind the episode he'd just experienced at the hands of some neurotic child. A child he'd been unable to name until he checked the roster.

Jane Wheldon.

Well, it was really no wonder that he could not place her face with the name. She certainly didn't look like a Jane. Then again, he, himself, did not know of many Janes, so he lacked a basis for comparison as far as that excuse went. But now wasn't the time to waste on extraneous thoughts. Rather than attempt to deduce the situation based on what he'd seen, he figured he should go to the source, or what he perceived to be the source, and speak to Jane herself.

If she hadn't taken off with the rest of the class, anyway -- not like it would be difficult to track her down; they were all returning to the common room. But as this entire endeavor required leaving the classroom, he felt himself slipping into his usual foreboding guise, since certain jobs were simply finished faster if everyone stayed out of his way. It'd become so natural over time, to make one's every move strike a sense of caution into any whom he might encounter. Reflection upon that, alone, drew a smirk to his face, which just as quickly vanished as he approached the door and stepped out. He was not above allowing his robes to flourish dramatically as he crossed the threshold, an action that, if done by any other individual, might have seemed hammy --

Of course, he might have come off as slightly more sinister, had upon a small start his heel not skidded on the floor, jerking the rest of himself to a halt. His purpose for emergence stood rather patiently with her back to the wall, staring at her feet in a manner expectant of punishment.

"Have you been standing here the whole time?"

She nodded and shifted uncomfortably on a frame that might have been considered sturdy, had her posture not given away some aspect of self-conscious vulnerability, of course. At first glance, it did not appear she wanted to be there, nor did she seem to wish to return to the common room with the other students. If she had, she would have gone.

Well, she wasn't muttering anymore, a sure plus. In spite of all his preparation for overall intimidation, Severus found himself drawling at her all the more patiently than should have been humanely possible. "Do you want to explain to me what happened, Miss Whedon?"

"Wheldon."

"Well?"

She bit her lip as she watched herself trace an odd pattern on the stone floor with one foot.

"Miss Wheldon, being in your fifth year attending both this school and my class, you have surely come to learn that I do not like repeating myself." Well, there went the whole patience bit.

"I -- I don't know, sir. I'm sorry," she uttered.

"You don't know." If Snape had a sickle for every time a student told him that he or she didn't know after wreaking some sort of havoc on his watch, he would have had enough money to fill an entire bank. "Miss Weston, if--"

"Wheldon."

"Whatever!" he snapped, satisfied by the cringe he set her to. "If you are lying to me, and if that little scene you made in my classroom was your idea of a joke, you'll be spending your best evenings of this school year in detention. Is that clear?"

More than once, she opened her mouth to interrupt him, but a forceful edge on his voice through and through kept any objections from coming to be. She finally looked at him again, and part of him expected her to start crying again. Thankfully, just another nod.

"Now, to the hopsital wing with you."

"The hospital wing?"

"Don't ask questions, child, just go. Tell Madame Pomfrey I sent you, and I'll be along shortly."

TO BE CONTINUED…