Chapter 6

Minerva McGonagall was concerned. Lately the inhabitants of Hogwarts were acting strangely. Ronald Weasley was eating most meals by himself now. And though his appetite was as healthy as ever, he'd started to look forlorn. Often she'd see him turn to say something to one of his friends then morosely return to eating his food when he realised they weren't next to him. Said friends were also acting out of the ordinary. In class, Potter was doing remarkably well. Of course she was pleased, but he'd not seemed quite like himself. He would participate more in class now, but would surreptitiously look towards his female best friend, as if to gauge her reaction. As for the third member of their trio, her work was impeccable as usual, but she seemed quieter and more withdrawn. She'd shoot Potter glances in class that looked as if she were...pining. Strangely enough, she wasn't the only one shooting him those looks. A certain Slytherin seemed to share the feeling. Though Hermione's were tempered with something akin to heartbreak, while his glances contained more confusion.

Her thoughts turned to Severus, who was currently hiccoughing next to her. She'd never known the man to indulge himself in drink but it seemed lately he'd been increasingly (and quite worryingly) under the influence. If that wasn't bad enough, sometimes she'd see Potter leaving his office, looking subdued. He'd had less to say about Potter recently as well, and usually, Severus would have had fifty complaints by midday. She was well and truly flabbergasted. Something was clearly going on, but what?

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"Something wrong professor?" he said, and she startled so badly her glasses went askew. He was quick to apologise.

"No, it's not your fault Longbottom, I should have been more alert," came the reply, as she straightened her glasses, "Was there something you needed?"

Neville had noticed that Professor McGonagall looked worried lately. He was even more concerned now that the normally astute professor did not even realise he was next to her, and it seemed she had not registered his question.

He had in fact only wanted to ask her if she'd seen Hermione, who'd been partnered with him for an assignment in transfiguration, but upon noticing the professor's demeanour he chose to forego that enquiry.

"No, it's nothing. Forgive me professor, but, you don't seem yourself this evening. Are you sure everything is okay?" he asked.

She sighed, resigned, "Well I am fine at any rate Longbottom. However I don't suppose you could enlighten me as to what's going on with your peers? I can't have been the only one to notice the alarming change in behaviour surely?"

Clearly she couldn't figure out what was going on on her own so what was the harm in asking Neville? He was far more intelligent than people gave him credit for. If only the boy were encouraged rather than insulted, he may have thrived. But Augusta Longbottom was living in the past and wishing a son where a grandson was. Sometimes she feared the damage done to the boy's self-esteem and by extension, magical capabilities, was irreparable.

"Oh! Well you haven't been the only one to notice, but it's actually funny how easily it could be solved if they just plucked up some Gryffindor courage and admitted that they like each other," he said, happy to be of help rather than a hindrance for once. "Harry and Hermione I mean", he clarified, upon seeing the questioning look on her face. He spotted Hermione sneaking into the hall. "If that's all professor, I'll be on my way then!" he said, and dashed off to catch up with her.

Potter and Granger? Well...that certainly explained a lot.

"Oh dear," she said to herself, "I think I see where this is going." McGonagall had always had a soft spot in her heart for the two of them, but she had to admit that Potter wasn't the most observant bloke in the world. She was also well aware that the young witch had some deeply hidden insecurities. Add in teenaged hormones, a limited capacity to express their feelings, and the avoidance dance they'd been doing and you had one perfect recipe for disaster. (Oh and let's not forget about the evil megalomaniac bent on destroying Potter who was indubitably floating around somewhere doing whatever dark lords did in their spare time)

She hoped they found their inner Gryffindor soon. (Preferably sometime before Lord Moldyshorts tried something...)

A loud hiccough from Severus brought her back to the present, reminding her that while she solved one problem, she still wasn't anywhere close to figuring out the other.

She hoped he sorted out his issues soon though because he smelled like he did the tango with a skunk. Sitting next to him was enough to put her off her food...for the next month.

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Severus did not in fact resolve his problem as quickly as she'd hoped. She caught him one afternoon belligerently accosting Potter and Ginny Weasley.

"Severus what in Merlin's name is going on here!" she exclaimed, aghast. Then the smell hit her. Of course he was under the influence again. Though she wasn't quite sure it was alcohol he was imbibing. It seemed he was not to be left unsupervised with a room full of potions ingredients while he was in this state. "You are in a lot of trouble mister," she said, as if talking to a child; he was acting like one after all. "Come along now, to the headmaster we go."

She turned to the shaken students, "Are you okay Potter, Weasley?"

They nodded absentmindedly, both too confused to really process what she was asking.

"Well I'll just be taking Professor Snape here to see the headmaster...and possibly Madame Pomfrey. Go back to the common room now, it's almost curfew," she said, and departed.

She would have been upset to know she missed the most crucial part of the proceedings.

*Earlier*

"You! You stole her from me you...you idiotic pancake!" Snape sputtered, stumbling towards them and grabbing Harry with one hand while waggling the fingers of the other accusingly in his face. It would have been more intimidating had he not somehow been wearing one of Dobby's tea cosies on said hand.

"What!? You like Hermione too?" Harry cried, horrified, squirming away from Snape. Harry was in no mood to appreciate the humour of the situation because he was too busy taking in the accusation itself.

Hermione, who had been taking a bathroom break while doing her project with Neville, was vacillating between indignation that Snape would comport himself in that manner, especially towards a student, and amusement at his choice of insult. However, when she heard Harry's exclamation, she felt her heart skip a beat. Surely, she could not have heard what she thought she just heard. She didn't even realise she was backing away until she hit a wall. It shook her out of her stupor and she ran off, without anyone ever noticing she had been there in the first place.

While she was having her internal crisis, Snape was still accusing Harry of stealing his girl.

"Hermowho?" he blinked, then snarled, "Don't try that with me Potter! You won't confund me today! You know full well I mean Lily!"

He turned loving eyes on Ginny and he suddenly lost his aggressiveness.

"Oh my sweet Lily-flower," he groaned, taking her hands and sinking down to the floor, "What do you see in this plague sore? Is it the porcupine hair?"

Then suddenly, he grabbed Harry again. "My hair can look like that too!" he cried, shaking him but also looking deeply into Lily's (...Harry's) eyes. This all made perfect sense to him in his state of mind.

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Harry was frozen in place. He had simply gone looking for Hermione, intending to tell her his feelings once and for all. Ginny had accompanied him for motivational support. (Aka she was going to hide behind a bookshelf and stick his legs in place if he decided to chicken out and make for the hills.) He had in no way anticipated the way his evening would go however. This certainly was not in the realm of anything he could have ever imagined.

Hermione had definitely been avoiding him and that really hurt to think about. He could only conclude that somehow she knew of his feelings and thought he was a total creep. Then he thought that Hermione would never be that cruel so surely she must be avoiding him because she didn't know how to let him down without hurting his feelings. After realising that he was in no way equipped to handle this newfound dilemma alone, he had gone to Neville to ask his advice once more. It was, after all, a comment from Neville that had him in this lovelorn situation to begin with. Neville had insisted they include Ginny in the discussion as Ginny would have more insight into Hermione than he would.

Ginny had basically told him he needed to Gryffindor-up and admit it to her because she was quite sure Hermione felt the same. When asked how she knew she just laughed and said woman's intuition. Whatever that was.

So here they were, being attacked by Snape on the way to the Library, where Neville had gone to finish his project with Hermione and hopefully stall her there long enough for Harry to get there and announce his feelings.

Except of course Hermione never made it back to the library. And Snape seemed to think that Harry and Ginny were in fact Harry's parents, James and Lily.

Harry shuddered in disgust. He had had a small crush on Ginny in the past, but he was so glad he was over it. Especially now that Snape had planted that image in his mind. Harry had enough problems; he truly didn't need an oedipal complex on his best mate's sister to complicate matters.

He was never so grateful in his life to see Professor McGonagall. Thank Merlin she interrupted Snape when she did. He really didn't want to know what would have happened next.

Both Harry and Ginny stared at their retreating backs with a sense of relief.

Ginny turned to him, "What. Just. Happened."

Harry just made a pained sound.