Part 3

Harry noticed that Professor Severus Snape was very off in Potions. ‘Off’ was the only word that Harry could describe the Professor’s behaviour. He looked paler than usual, his beady brown eyes looked bloodshot and he seemed to have his mind on something else other than potions, and actually conducting his job as teacher.

Harry wasn’t the only one who noticed it either; many of the students sat at their desks, watching him – waiting for their today’s project to be magically manifested on the blackboard at the front of the cold dungeon classroom.

“What’s got his goat?” asked Seamus, leaning across the table towards Harry in his usual manner.

“I don’t know, but he doesn’t look too good – maybe he’s sick?” Harry replied, eyeing the Professor with uncertainty.

Professor Snape looked up to see his class staring at him, awaiting his instructions.

“What are you lot gaping at? Get your books open to page four hundred and twenty three, and read it!” he shot abruptly.

They all did as they were told, and Harry heard Seamus mutter to Dean Thomas, that Snape didn’t seem to have a problem after all.

Harry thought that maybe he would be able to communicate with Severus again via Occlumency and telepathy, but Snape would not look Harry in the eye – in fact, he ignored him completely, as if he didn’t exist. Harry shrugged, and carried on with the assigned task, but glanced up every now and then to see Snape looking over, but then quickly turn away, as if he couldn’t bear to lay eyes upon the young man.

Ron and Hermione seemed to notice too and Hermione gestured to Harry with a shrug of her shoulders, while Ron raised his eyebrows to note his surprise at the Potions Master’s unusual actions.

Harry held up his hand, while everyone stopped reading and looked up at him in astonishment.

Severus noticed, and Harry saw him let out a small irritated sigh.

“What, Potter? sneered Snape

“Well…I was just wondering sir if we were supposed to be reading, on how to….” Harry stared down at page four hundred and twenty three again and continued, “brew a vanquishing potion for hinkypunks.”

Pavati Patil and Lavender Brown started to giggle so loud that everyone in the class, including the Slytherins, followed suit.

Harry didn’t mean to come across as spiteful or vindictive; he did feel however that Snape’s mind was clearly not on the curriculum today.

Snape stood there, looking confused for a few moments, and then picked up his own copy of NE.W.T level potions by Miranda Thistlebee; and flicked to the page and found to his utmost disgust, that Harry was right.

“Potter, before you open your mouth and cause my class to be distracted and source an unworthy disarray, you may want to read the whole chapter first, you may then just realise that this vanquishing potion works on many animals, some which can be a threat to us wizards!” he shot back, and then threw his book down on the table with hard force, while wiping his forehead with a clammy hand.

Harry put his head down, he tried not to smile so Snape would notice, but he felt quite amused at the simple fact that he had just caused Severus Snape to realise that he isn’t right – all of the time!

The class remained sat there for the whole lesson, engrossing themselves to the best of their ability, in the reading of small print, on page four hundred and twenty three.

-

“What was his problem?” muttered Ron, in a woebegone manner. As they left potions and started to head down towards Defense Against the Dark Arts.

“Don’t know.” replied Harry sullenly, expressing a frown to match the one of his friend. “But whatever it is, it doesn’t seem good.”

Hermione was struggling frantically with her bag, when all of a sudden she screamed a loud curse word that seemed to echo throughout the main school corridor. Shocked, everyone turned around to find the bottom of her satchel had come loose with the weight of its entire belongings that she had magically crammed into it. They scattered, all over the hallway. Books, quills and ink bottles, pages and pages of notes, tutorial journals, S.P.E.W. Badges and a framed picture of herself and Ron.

Harry looked down and couldn’t help but express a large beaming smile across his face. Hermione noticed and blushed a furious red. While, Ron got down on his hands and knees and helped her collect her scattered possessions. Harry ran after the rolling ink bottles, while he heard Hermione whisper “reparo” to the cracked glass that covered the picture that Colin Creevy had taken of them together last year; the same picture that she had neatly presented; framed to Ron for Christmas.

“Why do you carry this with you?” Ron asked, eyes twinkling.

“Oh, I, just don’t want it laying around in the girls dormitories, you just don’t know what some people will do.” she replied, putting it under her arm.

Ron smiled, and stood up, his arms full of Hermione’s things. Harry came back with the inkbottles still intact. “I think you need a new bag Hermione.” mocked Harry. Which she did not seem to find remotely funny.

“Don’t worry, I have a spare one – here you go Hermione.” They turned around to find Karis Dumbledore approaching them, holding out a crushed purple velvet bag with small round mirrors sewed into them. “Wow, that’s what I call funky.” mocked Luna, as she walked past her four friends.

“Hey babe.” said Harry, giving her a quick hug and a small kiss on the cheek, in passing.

“Wow, this is beautiful Karis, wherever did you get it?” asked Hermione, her eyes alight with appreciation.

“Oh, I have travelled many places in this world, I am a collector of all things. I watched your bag split and I felt so sorry for you. It happens to me a lot too, especially when I was abroad, generally alone, in the street! Always the way….” said Karis ironically, while shaking her head.

“I will give it back as soon as I buy a new one.” replied Hermione.

“Don’t be silly, you keep it. I have many things, I need a good tidy out anyway.”

Ron looked at Karis, his eyes alight. “Wow, are you going to be getting rid of any of your relics?” he asked.

Suddenly Hermione nudged him, hard in the ribs. Harry gulped and Karis looked at all three of them in pure astonishment.

Ron rolled his eyes – the awareness hit him, and he wanted the ground to swallow him up, especially with the way Harry was throwing him deadly emerald daggers right now, and Ron thought, if looks could kill, he would have been dead in a second. Forget the Avada curse, he thought silently in his mind.

“I want a word with you Harry – NOW!” shot Karis, noticing Harry’s frenzied look towards Ron. She grabbed him by the arm, and they both headed in a fast pace, down the hall towards the Dark Arts Classroom.

Hermione and Ron quickly followed, while throwing her belongings anxiously into her new purple bag that she had instantly fell in love with.

“Ron, why don’t you bloody think before you open that gaping trap of yours? You are such an idiot at times – you have gone and put Harry right in the dilweed now!” bellowed Hermione, shaking her head at her boyfriend in disbelief.

“I already feel terrible Mione, you don’t have to go and make it any worse Love!” he fired back sarcastically,

“Seriously Ronald, I wonder if your brain is ever intact at times – it’s definitely not engaged with your mouth that’s for sure!”

Ron put his head down, he felt the guilt rise from the pit of his stomach about Harry, but most of all, he felt a pang of emotion rise into his throat that formed a welling lump. Hermione had succeeded in the art of hurting Ronald Weasley’s feelings.