“Professor…”

“What is it, Mr. Potter? As you can see, I am very busy—”

“I know what you’re doing.”

The man froze for a fraction of an inch. It was brief, before he continued his red inked scribbling – grading some poor student’s essay.

“Excuse me?”

“And it’s not working.”

Now he had the man’s attention. Snape turned away from his desk, staring directly at Harry, who kept a firm stance as he met the gaze. It was after dinner and they were currently in the man’s office, where Harry was doing homework, while Snape graded his essays. Here, after talking with Luna, Harry had found the courage to confront Snape about his weird behavior.

Snape raised an eyebrow. “And just what is not working, Potter?”

“You’re avoiding me.”

The man’s eyebrow twitched.

“I’m doing no such thing as it is most obvious that we are still stuck together because of that confounded spell – even if I were avoiding you.”

Harry raised an eyebrow of his own. “No? Oh, come on, sir, contrary to your popular belief, I’m not a complete dunderhead.”

Now the man’s mouth twitched. Harry would’ve sworn he’d seen a hint of amusement dance in those dark eyes.

“So, you can stop now,” said Harry, his voice dropping now. The disappointment tried to flood through his veins, but he stuffed it back down. Luna had been right: things would look up. But he needed Snape to stop avoiding him. Maybe once the man got used to him, then he would open up more. “I won’t bother you about it, okay?”

Snape went very still. “About what?” he asked softly.

“About her,” said Harry, meeting the man’s tone. “It must be awkward for you.” The man’s eyes were wide, like he couldn’t believe what Harry was saying. “I know it must be hard for you, too. If it were me, I know it would be. I don’t know what I’d do if something happened to Ron or Hermione.”

Or Luna. It’s barely been two days and I feel like she understands me better than Ron and Hermione put together.

“So, you don’t have to avoid me any more,” continued Harry, his voice barely above whisper. “You don’t have to feel obligated to tell me anything.”

Even though I would give anything to hear more about her.

Harry went back to his homework, a Charms essay that he was having trouble with – he didn’t have Hermione to rely on any more. But he powered through it; he didn’t want to ask Snape for help, either. Not now, anyway. With his eyes only, he stole a glance at Snape. The man was still frozen in his seat. Harry looked back down, hiding a small smile.

Maybe now Snape would relax more.

***

The next day was better, in Harry’s opinion. After calling Snape out on the avoiding issue, the man took another approach: he stared at him.

Honestly, could they not interact like normal people?

Now, he couldn’t shake the weird feeling he got around the man. Snape would stare at him, as if he were some strange puzzle that he couldn’t decipher. It got annoying – and maybe a bit creepy – pretty fast. But at least they weren’t at each other’s throats or not interacting at all. They had yet to have another flare up between them. But, then again, it was only Wednesday morning. Plenty of time for everything to fall apart.

Hmmm, he needed to talk to Luna again, if only to get that optimism back.

Unfortunately, there was no fourth year Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw class today. Instead, he had a class that was originally his own – the fifth year Gryffindor and Slytherin Potions. It would also be the first class he attended with Ron and Hermione since the spell had been activated. Once again, he was in the classroom first before anyone else, with Snape sitting at his desk. Harry couldn’t help but feel apprehensive about it, though, wondering if Snape would revert back to that sneering, nasty git he’d always been.

He wasn’t sure if he could handle an episode like before in this class.

Thus, Harry was on edge as his fellow Gryffindor year mates entered the classroom, along with the Slytherins. Dean Thomas nodded to him, while Seamus Finnigan wouldn’t even look at him. Neville smiled, giving a small wave. Both Hermione and Ron waved at Harry, while Ron took his seat next to him. Malfoy was pale, much paler than usual, and subdued. He, too, wouldn’t look at Harry. The rest of class, however, were whispering.

“Quiet down,” said Snape, his drawling voice rising above the whisperers.

Finally, Harry found some peace in the silence, but now he had to endure the stares again.

One thing Harry did notice was the difference in the class atmosphere. It really was way more intense than the Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw class. And Snape was more on edge as well, as if he were waiting for some kind of explosion to happen. Considering the nonsense that always happened between the Gryffindors and Slytherins, Harry could see why the man was always so tense.

Still, Harry discovered he could complete his potion with ease, having already done it once at the beginning of the week, and he was determined to get it right no matter what. Receiving a subtle nod of approval from Snape would make all the difference in the world.

“Hey, mate, you still surviving?” whispered Ron at his side. Harry nodded, watching Ron butcher his ingredients. He raised an eyebrow. Was it really that hard to slice them nicely? It made the antidote more potent.

“It’s been all right. It’s gotten better.”

Especially since Snape stopped avoiding me like I have the plague.

“Ha, I doubt that,” said Ron, laughing under his breath. As he lifted a hand, ready to toss the shredded herb into his potion, Harry grabbed his wrist. Ron raised an eyebrow and said, “What?”

“You need to add the powdered Mandrake first or it’ll ruin it,” whispered Harry. “The components have to be added just right with this or the antidote will be a complete waste.”

Ron stared at him, his mouth dropping open.

Harry let go of his wrist, as if he had been burned. He glanced away and shrugged, as if this was the most obvious thing in the world.

“Just saying.”

There was a pause.

“Right… Thanks.”

Ron continued to give him strange looks all throughout the rest of the lesson. Harry ignored them. At the end of class, Harry was thankful there was no time for Ron and Hermione to talk with him. He really didn’t need Ron to ask any awkward questions. Thus, he returned the wave they gave him as they left.

While it felt strange to see them go, with Harry not going with them as he normally would, a part of Harry enjoyed not going. The past lessons of only Potions had been so interesting for Harry. While he missed them, he didn’t really miss the bickering between them. He also didn’t miss the pressure he felt with them. If he wanted to read a book, he could. If he wanted to study, he could. He didn’t have to hear Hermione’s praising lectures and Ron’s grumbles.

It was sort of nice – sort of.

That evening, at dinner, it became clear that Snape wouldn’t play the avoiding game any more. Harry had barely fifteen minutes to eat – ten of which were spent exchanging idle conversation with Ron and Hermione – before the man stood from his seat and swooped on the Gryffindor table where Harry sat.

“Since you are obviously not planning on eating any more, I would prefer it if we retired to my quarters,” said Snape, his tone somewhat haughty. “I have essays to grade and as they are Gryffindor work…”

He trailed off, his upper lip curling as he looked over the table, before settling his gaze on Ron, who openly glared at him.

“Hey, Harry’s still eating. He can’t survive on potions alone, you know,” said Ron, the anger bleeding through his tone. Then, with a furious mutter, he added, “Unlike some people.”

“Manners, Mr. Weasley,” said Snape, his tone contrastingly light and dark at the same time. “Or I’ll be forced to take points and we all know your house can’t afford it. But I think a detention might do nicely, say… eight o’clock with Filch tonight. Perhaps you’ll think before you are inclined to opine.”

Well, that didn’t last very long. Although, like Ron, Harry didn’t quite understand what the man meant – he really did need to up his vocabulary as this rate. Either way, Harry could see the beginnings of trouble. He didn’t want a full on fight – one where Snape undoubtedly would win – and he didn’t want Ron to get into more trouble.

So, Harry just nodded and stood up from the table, grabbing another dinner roll and shoving it into his pocket.

“I’m done. We can go.”

Ron glared at Snape with an intense amount of hate. He opened his mouth, but Harry lifted a hand.

“It’s fine, Ron,” whispered Harry. “Just drop it, all right?”

Snape sneered again, before turning away. Ron continued to openly glare at the man. Harry patted him on the arm.

“He’s such a git,” hissed Ron.

Snape halted. No one noticed.

“Ron! He’s a professor!” whispered Hermione furiously.

“He’s still a git!”

“Lay off, Ron,” said Harry softly. “He’ll all right. Not fantastic, but all right.”

Ron’s mouth dropped, while Hermione beamed approvingly at him. Harry waved at them. “See you later,” he said, trying to smile. With that, he walked away, immediately bumping into the broad back of Snape. Harry fell back a step, horrified.

He heard Ron, didn’t he?

He has bat like hearing, just like Luna said…

Crap, he’s gonna kill Ron!

The thirty seconds Harry waited were agonizingly long. But then, Snape whipped his robe slightly. “Come along, Potter,” he snapped. Harry gaped as the man strode forward. It took him a second to realize he better start moving.

It was no secret that teenager were moody creatures. Emotions and moods tended to swing all over the place. Now multiply that a hundredfold when said teenager was a girl. But after experiencing Snape and his strange, ever changing moods, Harry was positive he could handle girls.

Well, maybe.

Thus, Harry could only follow the man, feeling more confused than ever. As he did so, he caught sight of Luna. She smiled brightly at him and waved, her bright red radish earrings swinging madly. Somehow, it lifted Harry’s heart and he waved back at her. Those gentle eyes seemed to glow brighter.

Snape’s strides were long and difficult to keep up with – Harry had to take three steps for every one of his. They barely made out of the Great Hall and down a corridor, when they turned a corner. There was a squeak of surprise.

“Oh, sorry, Professor.”

Harry perked up, instantly recognizing that gentle brogue. He rushed forward, abruptly stopping at Snape’s side.

It was Cho.

Harry’s face flushed.

“Evening, Miss Chang,” said Snape, his tone cordial. He nodded to her. “There’s still time to make it to dinner.”

It was official. Snape must’ve hated only Gryffindors.

“Oh, thank you,” said Cho, sounding a little breathless. She smiled. Then, her eyes glanced at Harry. She made no move to leave. Harry looked up at Snape, just in time to see the man close his eyes briefly, as if in pain. Then, he opened them and held up three fingers.

“Three minutes.”

Then, to Harry absolute shock, the man stepped forward and gave them some space.

Of course, right at that moment Harry’s mind just had to go blank; no time to dwell on such an amazing gesture from Snape.

“Uhm, how are you, Harry?” asked Cho, concern in her voice.

Sweet Merlin, her voice was beautiful.

Harry’s mouth went up and down, but nothing came out. Cho looked confused for a moment.

“Sorry?”

“Fine!” said Harry, gasping it out. “I’m fine. Doing great, actually. Uh, you?”

“Oh, uh, as well as I can be,” said Cho, nodding. She smiled softly; a hidden sadness dwelt there. “Are you sure you’re holding up? You know… considering.”

She looked at him sadly; the edges of her eyes grew a little red. Why was she looking at him like that? Harry had no idea what she was talking about. Oh, wait. She’d been in class when he had shouted about being an orphan. Ah.

“Oh… Yeah, I’m fine. Snape just—” Harry stopped, glancing at the man. Snape didn’t make a move, but his eyebrows did lift upward. Harry dropped his voice. “—it was just a spur of the moment kind of thing, you know? I snapped is all. Sorry you had to see that.”

“Oh… No, it’s all right,” said Cho, looking uncomfortable. “I understand.”

Cho nodded.

Harry nodded, too.

There was that big, awkward silence.

“Uh… but, uh,” stammered Cho, looking just as nervous as Harry felt. “Well, I really meant about what happened last June.”

Harry blinked. Last June? What happened last June? What was so—

His blood went cold.

Cedric.

She was talking about Cedric.

Harry’s heart started to pound in his chest. What did she want to hear? What did she want to say? What was there to say about it anyway? There was nothing to say. He died. It was his fault. The end. What more could be said? He didn’t want to talk about his feelings on the matter. Dudley had mocked him endlessly for the nightmares – that was good enough for Harry. After all, a death like that…

Kill the spare!

…it was too painful to voice aloud.

“Oh,” said Harry. His voice was hollow. “I’m fine.” Then, he added, “I guess.”

Cho nodded; her eyes glistened. “It’s hard, isn’t it?”

Hard?

How in Merlin’s name was he supposed to respond to that question? The answer was obvious. Duh! Of course, it was hard. What made her think otherwise? He had seen Cedric die with his own eyes, had watched that green light snuff out of the life which had once filled the older teen’s chest.

And just like that, like the flickering, fragile candle flame in the icy wind, Cedric Diggory died. Once a healthy, strong young man, one so close to adulthood, was now so easily taken from the world.

So, how to put all that in words that Harry could speak aloud…

Right. As if.

So, Harry opted to nodding his head. Then, to his absolute horror, the girl started to cry. Being at the end of a wand held by Voldemort, that he could handle. Live through – well, that was debatable, but his track record had been good so far – he could do. But being at the end of crying female, Harry had no idea what to do. All he could was stare helplessly. He nearly glanced at Snape to wordlessly beg for the man to come over here and deal with this, but he didn’t.

“Uh, are you all right?” asked Harry, finding no other thing to say. Cho just nodded, wiping her eyes.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean…”

She sniffled loudly.

“It’s just, you know, I had hard summer,” said Cho, tears slipping down her cheeks. Her nose became wet. She rubbed her nose; she sniffled again. Harry didn’t fault her for it, but he honestly had no idea how to deal with this. He suddenly wished he carried handkerchiefs in his pockets. “I miss him,” she whispered.

Harry would’ve traded his nightmare filled, chore filled, Uncle Vernon filled summer for one day of Cho’s ‘hard’ summer. Nightmares were just that much better when one had an angry uncle who hated being woken in the middle night.

“If you ever want to talk, you know, about what happened,” began Cho, her tears finally slowing down. “You can come to me. I’ll listen. I understand, you see.”

‘I understand.’

No, she didn’t. She had no idea. Her sorrow barely scratched the surface of true pain. No one knew. No one had a clue.

And Harry was going to keep it that way.

“I’m… fine, really, Cho,” said Harry, trying sound light. “I don’t need to talk about it.” More like I don’t want to talk about it and especially not with you. I barely could talk to Ron and Hermione about it and even then I didn’t tell them everything.

Apparently, he probably shouldn’t have said that.

Her tears, which had once slowed down, now gushed forth hundred fold. If Harry had been helpless before, he now felt thoroughly alarmed. When was their three minutes up? Why wasn’t Snape getting over here and dragging Harry off? The man was never useful, blast it.

Coward. Get over here and help me!

“Oh,” whispered Cho, her tears falling evermore. “I thought… Well, I thought you, of all people, would want to talk about it. About Cedric.”

No, not really!

“I… uh…”

“Bye, Harry,” said Cho, sniffling loudly, looking more and more dejected and miserable by the second. “I better get to dinner.”

And with that, she fled, leaving Harry feeling very confused.

Harry stood there in the hall, feeling more stunned by the moment. It took him a moment to collect himself. “Sir?” he said, slowly walking to where the man was standing. Snape turned slightly. “Uh… Thanks for letting me talk with her.”

Much good it did, though…

Snape nodded curtly. There was a pause.

“Did I do something wrong?” asked Harry, looking up at Snape with a puzzled frown.

The man raised a sardonic eyebrow. “You’re asking me if you did something wrong?”

Harry nodded, his eyes wide, shocked even himself.

“Where should I start?” said Snape, smirking. Harry sighed and held back an eye roll, shaking his head. They started walked down to the man’s quarters.

“Never mind.”

Useless. Absolutely useless.