Disclaimer - I do not own Harry Potter, all characters belong to JK Rowling :)
Chapter warnings: none :)
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"Potter, stay behind."
Shit. What had he done now? He hadn't spoken out of turn, hadn't made any mistakes in his work, hadn't caused a disturbance- he hadn't done anything. He hadn't done anything all lesson. He'd been so caught up in his own thoughts, he hadn't paid attention to anything Snape had said. The roll of parchment on his desk was completely blank. Although, knowing Snape, he was probably about to be reprimanded for breathing too loudly, or disrupting the lesson by sneezing. After all, why would Snape care if he payed attention or not? It wasn't his problem if Harry failed his end of year exams - in fact, he was sure it would delight Snape to see Harry embarrassed himself with his incompetency yet again.
Once the last students had filed out of the classroom, Harry reluctantly walked up the aisle of benches and stopped in front of Snape's desk. "Yes, sir?" He asked tentatively. Snape did not look up from his marking as he spoke.
"Potter, could you please explain to me why you spent the entire lesson staring fixatedly at what I can only imagine to be an immensely fascinating spot on the desk?"
So he had noticed. And he did care. Why did he care?
"I'm sorry, sir. I was just tired."
"Tired? You barely moved the whole lesson. I thought someone may have petrified you." Snape finally looked up from his desk, eyeing the boy carefully. He thought he could detect a faint shimmer…
"Potter, would you care to tell me why you have a glamour up?"
Harry froze. He hadn't realised glamours could be detected - none of the other teachers had commented on it. Had any of them noticed?
"I asked you a question."
"I don't know, sir."
"You don't know? Well, it's hardly surprising that you're struggling to concentrate. Holding up glamours for extended periods of time is extremely draining." Without giving Harry any warning, Snape withdrew his wand from his robes and pointed it at him. Harry felt it instantly. It was like an egg had been cracked over his head, and Harry swore he could feel a cold, slimy substance trickling down his body, stripping away the glamour in its wake and leaving him exposed and vulnerable.
Snape observed the wide-eyed boy with grim surprise. He wasn't sure what he had been expecting; a bad pimple, somehow messier-than-usual hair… anything but this. Where his cheeks had once been full and rosy, they were now hollow and pale. His complexion rivalled that of a ghost, and his once vibrant green eyes were dull and fearful. There was faint bruising along his jaw, almost completely healed but still noticeable against his pale skin. His hair was lifeless and matted, and he had dark circles under his eyes. He looked as though he hadn't slept in days.
The glamours were back up a moment later, but Snape had seen enough. "Potter, when was the last time you slept?" His voice was calm and quiet, despite the look Harry was giving him. The phrase, 'if looks could kill' came to mind.
"Why do you care, sir?" Harry retorted. Well, at least his attitude was back. The lack of snarkiness had been beginning to worry Snape.
"I care, Potter, because you are my student, and I have a duty of care over you."
"Since when has that ever stopped you?" Harry spat viciously.
"Detention, Mister Potter."
And with that, Harry turned on his heels and stormed out of the classroom.
"I DID NOT DISMISS YOU!" Snape's voiced echoed through the dungeons, but Harry just kept walking. Snape would have plenty of time to yell at him when he came back for his detention.
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Harry was still fuming by the time he got back to the Gryffindor dormitories. Ron and Hermione were, as expected, waiting for him in the common room, both very eager to hear what Snape had wanted to talk to him about.
"He was just pissed off because I wasn't paying attention," Harry sighed as he flung himself into one of the massive armchairs by the fireplace.
"Greasy git," Ron muttered, collapsing into the seat next to him.
"He's got a point, Harry - you really do need to be paying attention in class," Hermione said, plucking a book off a shelf and seating herself on the opposite armchair. Harry and Ron exchanged incredulous looks, to which Hermione rolled her eyes. "Though I have to admit, making you stay behind just for that does seem a little extreme." She smiled at Harry and turned back to her book.
"That's putting it lightly," Ron laughed, earning a smirk from Hermione.
"I'm gonna head upstairs, I'm knackered," Harry yawned, standing up and stretching for effect.
"Yeah sure, see you mate," Ron said distractedly. He had spotted Fred and George on the other side of the common room, whispering to each other and writing in a little notebook, and was eyeing them suspiciously.
Harry made his way up the narrow staircase, gripping the handrail tightly. The lack of food was starting to take its toll, and all he wanted was to just collapse onto his bed and sleep for a week. Despite it being a monumental effort, he forced himself to change into his pyjamas and brush his teeth first, not wanting to deal with a creased uniform in the morning as a result of falling asleep fully clothed. Despite how exhausted he felt, Harry tossed and turned in bed for well over an hour. Even after Ron had come up to bed and started snoring quietly, Harry still lay wide awake.
Suddenly, something jumped up onto Harry's bed. He almost shrieked with fright, grabbing his wand from the nightstand and casting a hasty "Lumos!". A scraggly ginger cat looked back up him from the foot of the bed, thoroughly unimpressed and squinting slightly in the bright light. "Sorry, Crookshanks," Harry muttered, placing his wand back on the nightstand and rubbing his eyes. He felt rather sheepish for being so jumpy, glad that no one was awake to see him being scared senseless by a cat - Dean and Seamus would never let him live it down.
Crookshanks had a habit of wandering off, and seemed particularly drawn to Harry's dorm. Ron protested at this intrusion frequently, often leading to arguments with Hermione. He, justifiably, wasn't keen on the idea of a cat prowling around the dorm with Scabbers around. That being said, the majority of the time that Crookshanks did pay a visit, it was because Ron had left the door ajar.
Crookshanks clambered over Harry's legs and up the bed, settling down next to him on the mattress. He rested his head against Harry's ribs, his body nestled against Harry's. Harry was slightly bemused by this; Crookshanks had never been a particularly affectionate cat, even with Hermione, very rarely choosing to sit on anyones lap. Harry wasn't complaining though. It was nice to have the company. Laying back against the pillows, Harry rested a hand on Crookshanks' side, feeling the steady rise and fall of his chest. His warm body was a comforting weight by Harry's side, and as he lay there, listening to Crookshanks purring softly and running his fingers through his soft fur, Harry finally felt himself drifting off to sleep.
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