II

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"So, you woke up early, and..."

"...Harry might have had a reason, Ron!"

"Stop interrupting, Hermione! So, you woke up, went walking down the stairs and Snape came?"

Harry sighed heavily, his head falling prey to rolling downwards. "Yeah. He said that sometime after breakfast I had to go see Dumbledore. Er... Pass me a piece of toast, would you?"Reluctantly, he looked back up, the red-haired boy passing him a piece of toast. Ron was busily munching on his own piece, syrup and what not lazily dribbling down his chin before he bothered to wipe it away. Hermione, on the other hand, rolled her eyes. She hadn't eaten much, Harry had noticed, but he didn't bother to say anything. With suggestive eyes, Ron raised a eyebrow at the other, and Harry could have gagged if he had the same question in his head that Ron was too busy to ask. Disgusting. "Ew, no. He didn't try anything—Ron, why do you even think that way?"

"Well, I heard that he got Hannah Abbott in the hall a few weeks ago--"

"Enough!"Hermione caught on a few moments later, just as Harry let himself exclaim this. "Argh. I highly doubt that he even knows the difference between girls and boys, and--" As he was talking, rather, ranting, Ron turned pale, thus dropping his toast. "--Has never gotten close enough to one to be able to see the differen--"

"Excuse me, Mr. Potter?" his mouth fell open.

"He's right behind me, isn't he?" Ron and Hermione nodded, both in sync with the other. Harry turned around, finding himself laughing nervously as he looked up into the obsidian eyes of none other than Severus Snape. He immediately swallowed his words, and, holding the not eaten piece of toast, offered it. "Toast, professor?" Snape scoffed, knocking his arm away. "Er... Alright then." of course, one would politely offer breakfast to their muse of insult—it's just the honest, stunned way of doing things. Nearly spitting out his orange juice, Ron's eyes were stuck on the looks on their faces. Hermione was close to laughing, but of course being friends with the poor other, didn't. She occupied herself with her eggs.

"Twenty points from Gryffindor," Severus said, narrowing his eyes at Harry, "And I do think I know the general anatomy and the differentiating structures of both." And yes, he did attack the seeming 'hallway' through the tables with his signature walk and billowed robes. As he walked away, Harry could, in general, feel his head run cold, and his brain fall face first into his cereal, as he almost did. Hermione took a clamped hold on Harry's robe, and pulled him back up. He did look tired, she noted, as he forced himself up.

"Harry, are you sick?" she asked, quizzically raising an eyebrow. He shook his head, yawning widely. "No sleep?"

"You could say that," Harry said, tiredly above anything. "I haven't got a lot of sleep lately. These dreams..."

"The dark lord?" Her voice was hushed as she asked this. Ron looked up from his oatmeal, wiping off his face. Harry's eye twitched for a moment, but he calmly replied within moments.

"No," he said, actually taking time to think about it. "No, guys, I don't think he's involved in it. If he is, he must have a secret fancy for bright colors and rainbows... Lights, too..." Ron could have snickered, but the time didn't call for it. Hermione's elbow met his side. "...There was somebody in it, though. I don't know who it was, but they were wearing black sleeves. I think they had a white dress shirt beneath it, and... Why are you guys looking at me like that? Do I have something on my face?" The two shook their heads, again simultaneously. The looks on their faces told otherwise, however, and Harry frowned deeply. "What?"

"Harry, d'you think it was Snape?"

He took the time to spit out his orange juice back into its glass as Ron said that. "Excuse me?" Harry asked, just dumbfounded as he thought about this. "No, it wasn't. The dream was too beautiful... And painful for him to be in it. If it was, I'd probably have been sick. Er, Hermione, what class do we have first today? I've forgotten my schedule, thanks to Ron over there." Tossing a bit of her hair back, Hermione rolled her eyes, pointing her hand lightly at McGonagall's seat.

"Transfiguration. Will we be seeing you there, Harry?"

"Probably, but only for a few minutes. I have to go talk to Dumbledore." Harry was now gathering his things together, in which the other two leaned forward again, as if to whisper something.

"Tell him about the dream, Harry," Ron urged. Harry nodded, halfheartedly smiling as he stood. Oh, geez. Merlin only knew what the old man wanted this early in the morning—Harry shook it off, blinking hardly as he adjusted his glasses, once and for all leaving the Great Hall. What the other two noticed, however, upon his departure was that Snape wasn't at the table where he was originally sitting. Ron sighed inwardly, picking at his toast for a moment before looking back to Hermione. "How much you wanna bet that he's going after Harry?"

"Honestly, Ron!"

"Well, I mean, it's just common knowledge—even you should know that he can't find love willingly, and--"

"You are such an idiot sometimes. Maybe it involves Dumbledore! You don't know that." Ron scoffed, rolling his eyes. Hermione just sighed as they both got their things together for Transfiguration. There was no getting through to that boy unless Harry did the talking. Hmph.

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DAMN.

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Six? Honestly! I've never gotten that many!

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