Chapter 3

“Mr. Potter, Mr. Weasley, you will see me after class,” Snape snarled.

The two boys looked at each other. Ron had fear in his eyes while Harry was confused. Why would Snape want to see them? It had been years since they took anything from his private stores—what could the Potions master want?

As the other students fled the dank classroom, Harry and Ron approached Professor Snape’s desk.

“Sir?”

“Ah, yes. I trust you are aware of Miss Granger’s condition?”

“Well, sir,” Harry started, “we don’t know too many details, but Professor McGonagall said that she’s resting in the hospital wing. What happened, sir?”

“Funny, you say that as though I need to inform you of your own deeds.”

Ron looked pale, and his hands began to tremble slightly.

“My own deeds? What do you mean? Are you insinuating that I hurt her somehow?” Harry’s voice rose in anger and disbelief. “She’s one of my best friends! I would never hurt Hermione!”

“Well then, Mr. Potter,” replied Snape, “you won’t mind allowing me to use Legilimency?”

“Of course not, Professor,” Harry said as he looked Severus straight in the eyes, “go right ahead.”

As Snape probed Harry’s memories, he remembered that he had trained the boy in Occlumency. Potter could easily be hiding that morning’s events from him. He groaned slightly in frustration. However, there was no lapse of time or missing bits to be found. Harry hid nothing: waking up, relaxing in the common room, getting his books ready for the day, but something was missing: Ronald Weasley. Where was Weasley? Weren’t he and Potter inseparable? It was then that Snape knew who Miss Granger’s attacker was.

Looking up sharply from Harry’s eyes, Severus all but yelled, “Mr. Weasley, you will come to the headmaster’s office with me immediately! Mr. Potter, you may go.” Snape gave a cold, hard stare to Ron. The boy will pay dearly for hurting her, he angrily thought. How could he do this to such a beautiful, intelligent, innocent girl? Sweet Circe, if I had a witch like Hermione in my life, I would never hurt her in any manner! He had to get these thoughts out of his head! No! No, she is a student; there is nothing special about her. I have no feelings for the girl! Deep down, however, his soul knew it wasn’t true.

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Grasping Ron by the arm, Snape dragged him roughly to Albus Dumbledore’s office. Ron tried to hide his fear and guilt as they approached the stone gargoyle outside the headmaster’s office, but his emotions were too powerful. Before Albus could even offer a lemon drop, Ron rushed though a garbled confession of the whole story. Snape smiled softly to himself, as he knew justice would be served.

It wasn’t until Albus said his name that Severus realized Ron had left. Snape had been too busy thinking of all possible poisons that would inflict as much pain as possible on the boy. His head snapped up.

“Yes, sir?”

“I would like you to keep an eye on Miss Granger. I noticed you let your mind wander during my discussion with Mr. Weasley. I don’t blame you—one student hurting another is not a pleasant topic. Just so we know you understand, the head girl’s rooms have now been re-warded. Only staff and Miss Granger are allowed in. While Mr. Weasley is going to remain schooling here, he is to have no contact with Miss Granger outside of class. He also will be seeing her shortly to explain what he did to her this morning. I will ask you to please keep an eye on her and to go to the hospital wing now. She may need someone to help her cope with this shock.”

“Headmaster,” Severus interjected, “I am not a babysitter— I am a Potions master! It is not in my contract to hold Miss Granger’s hand when things do not go her way!”

Albus’ voice took on a sharp tone. “Severus Snape. While your contract does not say to hold her hand, it does say that you will protect the students from all harm. That includes psychological trauma. Now then…” He motioned at the door.

Severus sighed. “Sir, I hope you know what you’re doing.” He turned and left for the infirmary. How dare he! What is that old man up to? Did Dumbledore know the inner battle he was fighting? The emotions he was so desperately trying to repress?

Back in his office, Albus Dumbledore shook his head. “Oh, Fawkes,” he commented to the beautiful red-gold bird beside him, “as tragic as these events are, it may be just what those two need to realize their kismet.” With that, he popped a lemon drop into his mouth.

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Special thanks to my beta, RobisonRocket! Gods, she's brilliant! Don't know how I'd do it without her.