Ever since he was a boy, Harry watched people. He loved to see how they reacted to something. It fascinated him. The way they interacted with someone they didn't like or someone they knew quite well. He made sure to conceal his watching of course. People didn't like it when strange little boys stared at them after all. After a while, nothing the people he knew did seemed to surprise him anymore. It was always the same routine day in, day out. So he stopped watching.
But once he got his letter from Hogwarts, everything changed. The new environment had him watching even closer than before. At first it was exciting, but again, it all fell into a routine, even with all the situations he had to keep him occupied for the year.
But every year he returned, something was different then when he left, so he started watching the staff and the students again.
His all-time favourite people to watch were his teachers. Every one of them was different.
Professor Flitwick it seemed was always happier at Christmas time when he got to have the choir sing in front of the school.
Professor Sprout was more relaxed when spring rolled around.
Madam Pomfrey liked the warmer months and always drank out of the same tea cup in winter,
The Headmaster, well he couldn't quite figure out the Headmaster as he never did as Harry expected, and that was what drew him to him.
Snape, Snape hated him so he tried not to watch him.
But Professor McGonagall, she was interesting. All year round she was strict, but fair. She never lost her focus. She always treated her students with respect and was always in control. Only once had he seen her raise her voice in the seven years that Harry had been attending Hogwarts. On a few occasions he would see glimpses of emotion flash in her eyes, but of course he never told.
But for the first time, he noticed his normally focused professor, staring off into space while in class. He watched her every lesson that week, but she never lost her focus. It was a week later when he saw it again. Her glazed eyes staring at the wall with her head in her hand. He watched her during the next lesson, but she never lost her focus. It became clear to Harry that there was a sort of pattern to her starring. Every three lessons, she would sit down at her desk and stare blankly at the wall until the bell rang.
Not long after noticing the pattern, she started doing it every lesson. For once his curiosity got the better of him and he followed her line of sight. He had assumed that she was staring at the wall, but he had been wrong. She had been staring at Hermione the whole time.
Of course he could be wrong, he thought, she might just be sitting at a different angle. But before he could accept that for an answer, Hermione touched his arm lightly asking for a piece of parchment as she had used her last sheet. He saw anger flash in his professor's eyes, followed by jealousy and finally a sadness that not only showed in her eyes, but on her delicate features. Handing Hermione the parchment, he continued to watch McGonagall as his friend went back to work. Her hand relaxed around the quill she still held once Hermione took her hand off of his arm.
When she got up to do her rounds of the room, Harry became conscious of how close she stood next to Hermione and how she increasingly touched her briefly in a congratulatory way. Each time she touched her, Harry noticed how they seemed to linger.