Chapter 17
The rest of January came and went, and then February, and finally March, my birthday month. By then the gossip had began to wane, and I felt like I could breathe again. No one except for a few Professors, Franco, Madam Pomfrey, and Dumbledore knew about my venture out to the Forbidden Forest. I had escaped severe reprimand because, it was decided, I was "going through a difficult time", and deserved to be excused from the matter. My eighteenth birthday was a small celebration with Franco and a few friends in the common room. I preferred things to be small. I found that it attracted less attention, which was perfect. I wanted to blend into the background.
Things were better between Franco and me, though they weren't exactly how they had been before. We had an unwritten promise not to discuss what had been said between us that night in January. Franco wouldn't mention Snape, and I wouldn't mention Franco's feelings for me. The agreement worked, and we remained friends, but sometimes I noticed a glint of sadness in his eyes that even the broadest grin could not hide, and it broke my heart.
I wanted to like him the way he liked me. I wanted to return the favor. But I could not. My affection belonged to someone else, someone who should not have had it, someone who, perhaps, did not deserve it as much as Franco did. My affection belonged to someone who did not seem to notice me anymore.
I suppose Snape found it easier that way, and I agreed. I did not want another scene like the one in January. It only ended in trouble and tears. I decided it was best to let him forget me, for the most part. He called on me from time to time, scolded me from time to time, and gave me grades according to my performance, neither too high nor too low. Yet, there was a struggle in his attitude toward me that wasn't there before. It was as if he was trying too hard to make things seem normal.
Does he really care about me? Like that? And if he does, what could become of it?
Nothing. Nothing was the answer, and I resigned myself to that fact. Just as Franco gave up and realized he could only be my friend, I gave up and realized that Snape could only be my teacher. It was true, after all, what he had said those months ago. He is my teacher. Nothing more. I guess you could say that I was just too tired to love him anymore... not that you can ever stop loving anyone.
This isn't how it works! The little voice pleaded. You're going about it all wrong! You love him, you know it...
Once the voice of reason, now the voice of irrational thoughts, I silenced my conscience with Herbology homework and History reports.
The morning of March 18th, a day after my birthday, a haughty-looking owl swept over the Ravenclaw table and dropped a small package on my lap. I tore it open, not bothering to check who it was from. Inside was a beautiful gold ring with a single, tiny, white pearl.
"Oh..." I gasped and gaped at the ring. It was simple but I knew it was special somehow.
"Who's it from?" Franco mumbled through his hashbrowns.
"Um, I don't know, there's no note..."
"Your Aunt Agnes, maybe?"
"Highly doubtful... unless it was a gift from someone and she didn't want it because it was too plain. She tends to pawn off unwanted presents on me."
I slipped the ring on my ring finger and held out my hand. It almost seemed to glow.
"Now I'll have to remember not to stick my hand in Professor Sprout's 'special' potting soil," I remarked and got up from the table. Franco followed behind me as he always did, but this time instead of feeling just his pair of eyes on the back of my head, I could swear I felt another.
Stop it. I shook off the funny feeling and headed toward the greenhouses.
The rest of January came and went, and then February, and finally March, my birthday month. By then the gossip had began to wane, and I felt like I could breathe again. No one except for a few Professors, Franco, Madam Pomfrey, and Dumbledore knew about my venture out to the Forbidden Forest. I had escaped severe reprimand because, it was decided, I was "going through a difficult time", and deserved to be excused from the matter. My eighteenth birthday was a small celebration with Franco and a few friends in the common room. I preferred things to be small. I found that it attracted less attention, which was perfect. I wanted to blend into the background.
Things were better between Franco and me, though they weren't exactly how they had been before. We had an unwritten promise not to discuss what had been said between us that night in January. Franco wouldn't mention Snape, and I wouldn't mention Franco's feelings for me. The agreement worked, and we remained friends, but sometimes I noticed a glint of sadness in his eyes that even the broadest grin could not hide, and it broke my heart.
I wanted to like him the way he liked me. I wanted to return the favor. But I could not. My affection belonged to someone else, someone who should not have had it, someone who, perhaps, did not deserve it as much as Franco did. My affection belonged to someone who did not seem to notice me anymore.
I suppose Snape found it easier that way, and I agreed. I did not want another scene like the one in January. It only ended in trouble and tears. I decided it was best to let him forget me, for the most part. He called on me from time to time, scolded me from time to time, and gave me grades according to my performance, neither too high nor too low. Yet, there was a struggle in his attitude toward me that wasn't there before. It was as if he was trying too hard to make things seem normal.
Does he really care about me? Like that? And if he does, what could become of it?
Nothing. Nothing was the answer, and I resigned myself to that fact. Just as Franco gave up and realized he could only be my friend, I gave up and realized that Snape could only be my teacher. It was true, after all, what he had said those months ago. He is my teacher. Nothing more. I guess you could say that I was just too tired to love him anymore... not that you can ever stop loving anyone.
This isn't how it works! The little voice pleaded. You're going about it all wrong! You love him, you know it...
Once the voice of reason, now the voice of irrational thoughts, I silenced my conscience with Herbology homework and History reports.
The morning of March 18th, a day after my birthday, a haughty-looking owl swept over the Ravenclaw table and dropped a small package on my lap. I tore it open, not bothering to check who it was from. Inside was a beautiful gold ring with a single, tiny, white pearl.
"Oh..." I gasped and gaped at the ring. It was simple but I knew it was special somehow.
"Who's it from?" Franco mumbled through his hashbrowns.
"Um, I don't know, there's no note..."
"Your Aunt Agnes, maybe?"
"Highly doubtful... unless it was a gift from someone and she didn't want it because it was too plain. She tends to pawn off unwanted presents on me."
I slipped the ring on my ring finger and held out my hand. It almost seemed to glow.
"Now I'll have to remember not to stick my hand in Professor Sprout's 'special' potting soil," I remarked and got up from the table. Franco followed behind me as he always did, but this time instead of feeling just his pair of eyes on the back of my head, I could swear I felt another.
Stop it. I shook off the funny feeling and headed toward the greenhouses.