Twenty minutes later, Severus found himself grading Hufflepuff essays whilst waiting for the first class of the day: fifth year Slytherin and Gryffindor, due to start in an hour. For once he found himself looking forward to the lesson. The constant tension, sly tricks and behind-the-back hexes. And of course the ease with which he caught the Gryffindors' attempts at retribution was almost laughable. It would certainly be far more entertaining than marking essays by 2nd year Badgers on the uses of dragon parts in healing potions.

The fact that Hermione Granger was due to arrive early had nothing to do with his frustrations. Honestly.

Severus stared in bewilderment at the parchment he'd just finished reading, and shook his head. "Miss Jackson. What is the point of rambling on over minutiae while missing all of the major points? One would hope you do not follow this procedure in all your endeavours, or I should expect to see you keel over at dinner from hunger." His quill scratched over the parchment in thick red ink as he spoke, and then added a big D- below. Severus always found it far more satisfying verbalising his concluding remarks on a student's paper, it seemed to add just the right tone to his comments.

The downside was that occasionally someone overheard. The reactions ranged from tutting from his colleagues, gasps of offense from students and once tears from the owner of the paper. This was one of those occasions, but this time it resulted in a remark almost as cutting as his own. "Now, was that really necessary, Professor? Your performance in class truly is traumatising enough without you adding misery to our already dismal grades."

Severus looked up at his recently found friend and smirked, "It's a hobby." His smirk faded when he saw her face. Although she was smiling, it was merely a façade. They had learned to read each other's moods amazingly quickly since his suicide attempt, and several times he'd caught her looking very concerned over something. But on each occasion she'd brushed him off, and he'd let it pass. Now, it seemed, she had reached the point where she needed to discuss it. Whatever 'it' was. "What's wrong?"

Hermione's face fell, and she sate heavily on a stool that was beside his desk. "It's Harry."

'Well that explains everything and nothing at the same time.' Severus thought, 'I wonder what Potter's done this time?' The Boy Who Lived was one of the few subjects they'd avoided, by silent mutual agreement. That argument would have ended their friendship before it began.

Severus sighed, "What's Potter done now?"

"That's just it. I don't know. It's just that, well, he's just... not Harry."

Severus raised an eyebrow. "If he's not Potter, then who is he?"

Hermione got off the stool and began to pace angrily. There was nothing she hated more than a problem she couldn't solve. "Oh, he's Harry Potter all right. I even tested him for polyjuice, but that came back pure 100% Potter. He's just not... Harry." She stopped in the middle of the room, looking dejected.

Severus rolled his eyes, "Well that certainly cleared things up." He took hold of her shoulders and directed her back to the stool. "Perhaps you should start at the beginning and let me draw my own conclusions."

"But where's the beginning?" Hermione was at a loss, "There's so much. Mostly little things, but..."

Severus sat in his own chair and steepled his fingers. "Try chronologically."

Hermione thought for a moment, then began. "It started over the summer. He wouldn't reply to anyone's mail. I mean, I know he received them, or else the Post Office owes me 3 sickles. He just never wrote back."

Severus sat forward in his chair, "Not even to Black?"

"Well, sort of. I wrote to Mr. Black to find out exactly that. He replied that Harry had written, but only in direct reply. He sent me some copies. They were all short. Terse even. Just 'I'm doing fine, summer's going well. See you.' " Hermione shook her head, "I think he was just writing enough to keep his Godfather from paying a visit. He never even asked about Buckbeak like he always does."

Severus thumped the arm of his chair, "Ha! So that's how Black got away!"

Hermione rolled her eyes, "Well that and judicious use of my Time Turner, but can we please get back to the matter at hand?"

Severus suddenly felt as if he were a little boy who'd just been caught sneaking biscuits from the pantry. "Er, right. What else."

"We were supposed to meet him at Diagon Alley like we usually do, but Harry never showed. I thought I saw him at Gringott's, but by the time I got there, he was gone, and the Goblins refused to answer my query." The staff of Gringott's were notorious for keeping the dealings of their clients confidential. "Then there was the train. I wasn't there, as you know, but according to Ron, he locked himself into a compartment. Alone. And he didn't get off with the others, no one saw him in the carriages. We think he used one of the secret passages."

Severus raised an eyebrow. "One of?"

"There's a few of them." Hermione waved it off, hoping he wouldn't pick up that she was being deliberately vague. "But that's not really the issue right now, is it." She made it a statement rather than a question to forestall any further discussion about Hogwart's hidden corridors.

"Actually, it could be." Severus had noticed, but chose to let the subject lie. For now. "Potter may have had a reason for choosing that route other than his newfound need for solitude. We can search the passages later, see if he concealed anything in one of them. Is that all?"

Hermione shook her head, "No, there's much more. His general attitude for one. Harry barely speaks to anyone anymore, except in monosyllables. Remember the day I apologised to you? He told me to hurry up from the door. That was the last civil thing he said to me." She paused and wiped away the tear that had begun to roll down her cheek. For some reason this made Severus grit his teeth in anger.

Hermione flicked the moisture away and continued. "But it's not just me. When he isn't ignoring absolutely everyone else, he's rubbing Ron's financial situation in his face. Ron refuses to even be in the same room with him unless it's a class. Even the way he treats Malfoy is different. It's like they've made a pact. Rumour had them duelling in the halls at the start of term and now they avoid each other like the plague." Her frown became puzzled, and her tone worried. "And he keeps disappearing, where to I couldn't say."

Severus thought there had to more than this, so he said as much. "So far it just sounds like every other adolescent boy I've seen. Why have you come to me about it? Why not your Head of House? Or even the Headmaster?"

Hermione seemed to suddenly find the floor very interesting, the way that people do when ashamed of themselves. Or their friends. "Because yesterday. . ."

"Yesterday, what?"

She took a deep breath, "Yesterday Professor Dumbledore called both of us to his office. I think I was just there because the Headmaster knows that Harry values my opinion. Or did anyway. We were there because of Harry's grades, I'm sure you've noticed they've been dropping?"

Severus nodded, "Like a stone."

"He's just not putting any effort into his work anymore, for any of his classes. Apparently, he doesn't even show up for Divination anymore and last week he just walked out of a History exam. Anyway, Harry listened calmly to everything the Headmaster had to say, and then. . . then he. . ."

Severus gripped the arms of his chair tightly. 'If that boy has harmed Albus in any way, he will regret it for the rest of his very short life.'

"Harry said 'You're concerns are noted, sir, but I would thank you to cease your ineffective meddling in my private affairs.' and then he just left." Hermione looked as if she still couldn't believe what she'd witnessed.

Neither could Snape. He was shocked to say the least. No student had ever told off Dumbledore. Ever! Gradually he became aware that Hermione had continued talking, ". . . Harry didn't even raise his voice, like it was a prepared speech or something. He's never angry, never laughs or cries. The only time he ever seems to feel anything is when he's chasing the snitch." She looked at him with great tears welling in those dark eyes, then with a sob she flung herself bodily into his startled arms, "Oh, Severus what am I to do?"