Chapter 40 :

Minerva McGonagall wasn't a fool, she had noticed that Snape was weird lately. Staring blankly at the walls for hours with bloodshot eyes, messing up his steps on flat ground, looking so harried at breakfast that he made the Head Boy cry... She was worried for him and that's why she invited him for tea, taking out a bottle of vintage Scotch out of her secret stash.

As her guest would arrive in a few minutes, she took her time to prepare everything. She poured her treasured drink -in a cuppa for her and in a mug for Severus-, added a drop of coffee to her cup, made sure that the room temperature was neither too hot nor too cold and that no one had the gall to sneak ice cubes in her Office -the Weasley Twins had once threatened to make ice appear in her glass everytime she drank. Today better not be the day or she would eat them alive!-. Just as she finished, she heard a telltale curt knocking at the door.

"Come in, Severus. You are just in time." She said as she put down the bottle on her desk.

Snape entered, impassive. He nodded a silent greeting to her, like usual. His glare was sharp and his sneer heavy, that too like usual. His robes were perfectly ironed and dark, billowing behind him like usual too. Minerva nearly sighed in relief and yet she couldn't. Something wasn't right. She could feel it in the air.

"I noticed that you were unwell lately." She started hesitantly. "So I took out my special Scotch. Shall we drink ?"

Barely had she said the magic word that Snape's eyes zoomed in on his mug, focused like a starving man on a piece of stale bread. He took a step toward it, unnaturally careful and attentive. Then he took another step, Minerva watching him rather bewildered. Then he tried for another- and freezed abruptly, his eyes wide and distraught.

The Transfiguration Professeur was going to ask what was going on when she noticed something : her vintage Scotch was evaporating from the mug. She gasped in surprise, taking out her wand to throw a heavy duty detection spell, expecting everything from the Weasley Twins to the Bogeyman... But there was nothing but them two in the room.

"Severus..." She tried to ask, turning to him.

Snape was trembling from head to toe, barely able to stay standing. His face was a grotesque example of unwillingness. He still took a last step, like a man hanging to a thin thread of hope despite marching to the gallows. The liquid amber vanished from its bottle. Minerva held her breath in horror, but when her beloved family Scotch -the pride of her clan!- disappeared from even her own cuppa, she snapped. Never before had she been this insulted ! Not willing to take it down, she immediately pointed her wand toward her guest, aiming where it would hurt the most, and prepared the pettiest curse of her repertoire.

But she had to stop her spell before firing it, for in front of her was a sight that shook her to her very core : Severus Snape was crying. His bland face, fortress of no emotion, was covered in silent tears that traitorously escaped his eyes. He looked like a lost child, like someone plunged in a despair so great that he didn't know what to do anymore.

Minerva sighed, trying to hide how truly unnerved she was. She put away her wand and slowly approached him, afraid that a hasty movement would trigger something even more terrible. She put a hand on his shoulder in what she knew to be a poor attempt of comfort, and asked :

"What happened ? Do you want to talk about it... ?"

Snape mechanically answered, enunciating each word with tangible pain in his dull voice :

"Ever since The Great Blasphemy in the First Task, every alcohol I cross paths with disappear. The more I want to drink it, the quicker the disappearance. I am now forced to face my guilt and trauma sober." He confessed, suddenly traversed by a violent shudder as he realized the extent of what was done to him.

Then, before Minerva could say anything, he left. He walked stiffly away from the now empty cups of alcohol, leaving behind any hope of healing. In his mindscape, in the tight reinforced vault that was supposed to protect it, his Heart lay broken.
He would never bother Harry Potter ever again. The Devil was too strong.

Hermione was sulking. For Harry to make friends and not tell her about it... Didn't she matter anymore ? Was she just good for teaching him new spells when he needed it ? Dammit !

Well, she didn't really think that to be honest. She knew that Harry loved her more than the world. But it still stung that he would keep something so important from her. She was happy for him of course. More friends was always a good thing ! It's just... He probably told Ron... and not her... It made her feel left out.

Was it because she was a girl ? Ginny always said that you don't share the same things with a sister as with a brother. Something about sibling complicity, rivalry and other stuff that Hermione couldn't understand because she was an only child. Damn. Having a baby brother sure was hard. She both wanted to watch every step of his growth and didn't want him to grow up at all. Could she still coddle him like when he was that tiny socially awkward first year ? Harry wasn't in his rebellious period, was he ?

"Well, well, if it isn't Know-it-all Granger..." Said a snide voice, interrupting her pondering.

Hermione sighed. Ever since the announce of the Yule Ball, girls with an unhealthy amount of insecurities tried to belittle her to make themselves feel better. It was frankly pathetic. And terribly time consuming. She had better things to do, okay ?

"Do you have an appointment ?" She asked the wannabe bully with a deadpan.

"W-what... ?"

"Look, I am a person with a very busy schedule and a lot of responsibilities. I don't have any free brain cells to waste by lowering my IQ to your level to answer everything you say. If you want to bully me : make an appointment. Nothing more. Nothing less."

"Wha- You BITCH- !"

"Dear, you are losing me something very precious : my time." She grinded between her teeth. "If you insist on your petty attempts at bullying without a proper appointment... It. Will. Cost. You. Understood ?"

Hermione would later be proud that her unblinking stare made a bully from an older year flee with her tail between her legs, not knowing that above her head, her Hair was moving like a ball of eldritch tentacles slowly breaking free from the constraints of her bun.

On the other side of the Library, Viktor Krum was admiring the young Gryffindor from afar, entranced by her vividly animated Hair. It looked to him, like the dance of a ballerina : full of charm and meanings, telling thousands of tales with each of every movements, Its very mass holding mysteries and the very secrets of the World. It was fascinating. Here was a girl -not a fangirl!- that was perfect and witty and pretty. He had to ask her out for the Yule Ball ! He took a deep breath and stood up. Today was The Day.

AN : There you go, Theo's true revenge against Snape : making him sober LMAO. Also, a little more of Hermione.