Chapter Four
…nor lift my hand
Serenely in the sunshine as before,
It was early on Wednesday morning, an hour that the majority of people would have found positively blasphemous if forced to contemplate being up during it. As Hermione went about her daily ablutions, she luxuriated in the early-morning quiet.
None of the other girls had even begun to stir in their beds yet, and the lack of voices and the feeling of having the whole of this small world to herself was a positive extravagance. It was good to have this time alone, to prepare herself for the day and the trials that it would surely bring. Whatever they were, she could face them, with her friends and her resources. She nodded firmly at herself in the mirror, and followed it up with a smile.
While brushing her teeth, she automatically began to evaluate what the day had in store. Naturally it would be breakfast first, and then Double Charms, she thought, starting to draw up the timetable in her head. That was followed by... She paused, frowning as she found herself momentarily unable to remember what came next. Really, this was most unlike her, she thought, rinsing off the toothbrush and setting it in its holder.
Ah yes, of course, she thought after a moment or two as she gathered the things needed for her shower.
It was followed by Arithmancy, and after that would come lunch and a free hour in which she had promised to help Harry find some books that he needed from the library. She frowned again, soaping herself briskly. Really, considering the amount of time he'd spent there last year, he really ought to have been familiar enough with the place to find what he needed by himself. He certainly hadn't asked her for much help then! She decided that she'd worry about that in a while, once she'd got through assessing the day. She made a note to come back to it later.
Then it was Muggle Studies, and finally Double Potions. It would be the first class of the new term in all of today's subjects, and there was something interesting coming up in each and every one of them. It was so good to be back at school again, and positively wonderful to have the promise of new challenges. She was looking forward to Charms particularly – Professor Flitwick had told her at the end of last term that they would be starting to work on advanced shielding charms – but everything held promise.
As usual, she reached the common room before the rest of her housemates. However, she could hear the sounds of movement from some of the other rooms as she walked down, her school bag held loosely in one hand. She settled quickly into one of the armchairs in front of the fire to look over the relevant chapter in her Charms book again. Of course, she'd read the section several times before, but there was never any harm in refreshing the memory, and the exams would be on them before they knew it. She did not intend to face them unprepared if she could avoid it with simply the application of a little effort. The book seemed almost brand new, the leather soft and slightly warm under her hands, the pages smooth and unmarked. She had always been careful with her books.
About half an hour after she'd begun, Ron appeared. Despite only her being halfway through the chapter, he managed to persuade her almost immediately to lay her book aside in favour of more physically pleasurable pursuits, although she reminded him sternly that it was only until the others appeared. There were some things that should be kept private, in her opinion, and one thing was for certain – she never wanted someone to walk in on her and Ron here the way she had on Seamus and Angelina last year. She found herself blushing faintly at the memory even now.
The others began to straggle in after a few minutes, stumbling down the stairs in a daze or bouncing cheerfully into the room according to their inclination and caffeine requirement. As she heard the first footsteps thump on the stone, she moved back to her original chair and returned to her reading, even managing to persuade Ron to do some too. At least, he got his own battered book out, but from the way he kept glancing over at her, she suspected that he wasn't taking much of it in. Well, neither was she right now, so she supposed that she could forgive him for it this time.
Soon Harry arrived, and she turned her attention to him, examining him intently. To the cursory glance, he appeared as he always had – his greeting was cheerful, his smile seemed wholehearted. It was almost as if the gloom that had settled over him last term had never been, and she nearly let herself believe the assurances of his well-being he'd given two days ago.
Yet there was something wrong in the way he carried himself, in his eyes, particularly in the way he occasionally broke off in the middle of a conversation to stare blankly into empty air with a pensive expression. Despite his denial of any difficulty, all her instincts were screaming at her that there was something amiss. Something was bothering him, and it needed to be fixed, somehow. Obviously, he wasn't going to tell her about it, no matter how apparent it was that he had a problem, despite his attempts to hide it.
She'd just have to watch him and try to find out, she decided. He needed all his wits about him this year and the next, and if he wasn't going to fix whatever was wrong, she would have to do it somehow on his behalf. After all, what else were friends for?
At breakfast, she kept a careful eye on him, noticing that he ate very little, only doing more than pick at his food when she made it obvious that she was watching him. She soon became aware of the way he was carefully not looking at the High Table. When, in an attempt to find out more about this strange avoidance, she pointed out the Headmaster's gaudy new hat, he looked up for the shortest time required to convince her that he was really interested, barely enough time to register that the old wizard was wearing a hat at all.
So, she decided, it had something to do with a professor. Logic dictated that Harry's reason for not looking at the professors most probably was related to whatever was worrying him. Not even Harry could manage more than a certain number of issues at any one time. Since there were only a limited number of teachers, and Harry hadn't spent much time with many, this bit of information narrowed her list down considerably.
Snape was watching Harry almost as intently as she was, she realised toward the end of the meal as she scanned the table, speculating on who the culprit might be. She wondered what that was all about, but set it aside as a less important consideration.
Although, she realised suddenly, Snape was one of the people Harry had spent a lot of time with. At least he'd done so before the end of the last term, what with all the tutoring and the detentions. She'd have to watch them both in Potions. It was not at all beyond the realms of possibility that Snape had done something unspecified, but nonetheless horrible, to Harry in one of their tutoring sessions. Of course, the theory had the small problem that the hostility between them had appeared to decrease with those lessons, but she was sure there could be ways to explain that away.
Harry was quite subdued in Charms, although he managed all of the tasks without much effort. That was just as well, since his efforts were half-hearted at best. However, she had to be happy when she noticed the way most of the spells seemed to come almost naturally to him. He was now usually among the first few people to grasp a new charm, and his were generally the strongest. Perhaps the tutoring really had helped him, if it turned out not to have been the cause of his problem. Glancing past him at Ron, she saw him struggling with the task, and sighed. She suspected there was little hope that he would ever become a good student. Still, he always managed to master them eventually, she consoled herself, and once he did, he was at least as good as most of the others in the class. And, she added, he had many other wonderful qualities that made up for it. His grasp of the finer points of kissing, for one.
Realising that her attention had wandered, she dragged it back to Harry, who was a more immediate problem.
He seemed far happier and more at ease in Arithmancy, despite the fact that she had to explain several of the problems step by step before he grasped them. He was finding it quite hard going without an OWL background in the subject but seemed determined to try his best, as he had in the preceding two terms. She was doing her best to help him, and again Snape's tutoring seemed to have been of some use.
At lunch, he still avoided looking at the High Table. Glancing up, she noticed an odd absence, and pointed out to him that Snape wasn't there. Unmistakable worry crossed his face, which rather surprised her – why on earth should it concern him that Snape hadn't turned up for a meal? - but he looked up and rather gave the impression of actively trying to shake off his worry. That odd focused-elsewhere expression crossed his face, and after a minute or so, he appeared actually quite glad of Snape's absence.
After that, he seemed much more relaxed. It was almost definitely something to do with the Potions professor, then. Since everything seemed to point at him, she decided that she would just have to be very observant in the class that afternoon. If anything was certain, it was that the problem, whatever it was, wouldn't be easily uncovered, let alone solved, but at least she had managed to make some sort of start on it.
***
Harry felt every muscle in his body begin to tense in anticipation as he entered the dungeons. It only got worse when he walked into the Potions classroom and realised that Snape would be there very soon. That he'd have to spend two hours in the same room with him.
Feeling Hermione's eyes on him, he tried not to allow any of the trepidation he felt at the prospect of the lesson to show in his face. She'd seemed to accept his explanation for his recent quietness, but it hadn't escaped his notice that she'd been sticking awfully close to him today, and watching him even more carefully. He'd just have to be especially cautious. There was nothing else he could do, really.
After all, he couldn't order her to stop caring about him. On the other hand, it wasn't like he had any idea of how to even begin explaining the whole thing to her and he would have to explain all of it if she managed to find out even a little bit. She could be very persistent when she wanted to, not to mention observant, and she wouldn't rest until she'd found out all his secrets. Sometimes he thought she took her self-imposed quest for knowledge ever so slightly to extremes. And even if somehow he did manage to get the story across, then he would have to tell Ron too, and that would be even more problematic, and after that they'd both want to try and help…
He cut off that train of thought before he could work himself into a complete state and took his seat, with Ron as the unwitting buffer between himself and Hermione. As he set out books, quills, parchment and equipment, he tried to steel himself for Severus' entrance. The professor swept in just as he was beginning to get into a reasonably interesting discussion with his friend about the Quidditch League prospects, and the Cannons' chances in particular. Harry resisted the temptation to look up at the man, who stood in front of the class with his usual commanding air and never once looked in Harry's direction. The lesson began.
Harry was particularly cautious, as he had been before the end of the previous term, to ensure that he made no mistakes whatsoever in the lesson. To ensure that Severus – no, he reminded himself for the hundredth time, not Severus, but Snape – would have no reason to approach him, and most especially no reason to be expected to give him detention. It was even less appealing than a detention with Filch, or even a heart to heart with the Headmaster.
From how thoroughly he was ignored, it was abundantly clear that the man didn't want to speak to him, and was trying just as hard to avoid giving him a detention. He told himself not to be hurt, and reminded himself sharply that he didn't want to have to spend any time with him either.
It didn't matter at all that he was – had been, for a while, he corrected – in love with him.
***
Severus watched Harry surreptitiously throughout the lesson, just as he had in the classes before the end of term and during meals, and any other occasion he could find or create to do so. He was merely keeping an eye on the boy, he assured himself, as it was his responsibility to do. After all, his… rejection? Well, the word would do as well as any, he supposed. His rejection had doubtless been hard on him, if the feelings still coming off the bond despite their best attempts to close and ignore it were any indication.
He knew Harry more than well enough by now to realise that he was not the sort to seek help for his problems, or even to share them. Since he was the only other person to understand the whole situation, and was perhaps slightly to blame, he really owed it to the boy to ensure that he was all right. Not that he had any real idea of what he could do if he turned out not to be after all, but that was a mere technicality.
He regretted vaguely that the boy gave him no excuse to berate him, and with the Slytherins and Gryffindors no longer sharing these classes, no one else would engineer the opportunity. In a detention, he could have examined the boy more closely without giving the appearance of wanting to be near him, but this class afforded him no such pretext.
He did not want to be near him, he reminded himself sharply, and clearly Harry felt the same way. After all, it had been his action that first attempted to close their bond, and Severus was not about to try to change that. It would only be asking for trouble.
The cool darkness of the classroom, the mixed smell of potion ingredients, so thick he could almost taste it, even the soft murmurs of his pupils as they muttered advice at each other were familiar and comforting. He soothed himself with the well-known sensations, and told himself sharply to stop thinking about Harry.
It didn't matter at all that he was missing – had missed, for a while, he repeated to himself – the boy's friendship and companionship.
***
Hermione watched them both, and wondered. Something very weird was going on between Harry and Snape. They were ignoring each other so attentively, and Harry was trying so very hard with his potion, that it was virtually impossible not to realise that something peculiar was going on. There was quite simply no doubt about it.
She was determined to find out what it was, and make sure that it was dealt with somehow. If sheer curiosity wasn't enough, she at least owed it to Harry to make sure that he was able to concentrate.