Holes

   “Incredible.”

 

   A marvellous Saturday morning sun glistened through the high windows, reflecting in hundreds of plates and goblets and moving cutlery and making the hair of friendly talking people shimmer brightly. The smell of all sorts of breakfast food and drinks was in the air, which was a haze of silvery gold. In all, a calm and absolutely beautiful scenery. But that was not what was so incredible to Ronald Weasley that he kept aspirating the word.

 

   “Incredible.”

   “Fine, I got it!”, Hermione snapped. “Well, I’m just human, am I not?”

   “But that’s – just incredible! Can you say it again?”, he said dreamily, just when a tall dark figure glided towards them, a notebook and a quill in hand. “Please!”

   “Give it a rest, Ronald.”, Ginny sighed to her toast and took a bite.

   “No. Please, Hermione. Please – repeat that.”

   “Alright!”, Hermione barked at him, heads turning in their direction. “That foul, obnoxious, loathsome mongrel! I don’t believe that he makes us write a twelve rolls essay on the Unforgivable Curses, over a single weekend! How should I possibly be able to finish that along with all the other homework! Are you happy now?”, she hissed.

   “Incredib-”

   “Oh shut –”

   “Is that so, Miss Granger?”, a low, deep voice very close to her left ear said.

 

   Hermione froze with gaping eyes. Everyone in their surrounding looked at the small group of Gryffindors that sat together, and their teacher, almost none of them having seen him approaching. He had placed the book and quill on the table and grabbed the wood’s edge so he could easier bend down to her. As though a sudden cloud had appeared to block the sun, the air around them seemed to have lost all its shine and people all around held their breath, either with fear or interest of what might follow, or perhaps because they believed that the only comprehensible reason for a change to the air could be due to an actual poisonous cloud that had materialised out of nowhere.

 

   “You feel incapable of finishing your homework?”, Hermione swallowed. “You? Of all students? The – quickest regarding such? Well, maybe I should give you a little incentive. You may – ”, he picked the feather and held it up in front of her face, “Use this quill for your essay. In addition,”, smirking nastily, he stuck it behind her left ear, “You will write a ten pages essay about how to treat a teacher, including appropriate use of language – or accept fifty points taken from Gryffindor for your nice little description. It is on you. Hand in the essay with the other, or watch fifty of those shiny red crystals out there fly back upwards. To make the task a little more challenging, you will write both essays with exactly that quill; believe me as I say that I will know; and I want it back by the same lesson. If anyone else, especially Miss Stalker Patil, should touch it, you have written those papers in vain.”, Parvati, who heard that, swallowed too. “Have you understood me, Miss Granger?”

   “Yes, Sir.”, she gargled.

   “Fine.”, he sneered, seized his book and walked on.

   “Now that’s heavy,”, Ron mumbled. “I can’t recall you’ve ever fallen this deep.”

 

   Though in the very moment, he visibly regretted to have said that. The look Hermione gave him made even Harry shrink some inches. She threw her legs over the bench, jumped up and stomped after Severus.

 

   “Professor?”, she stopped him with a furious tone.

   “Yes, Miss Granger?”, he slowly turned.

   “May I borrow your notebook for a moment?”

   “The reason?”

   “Educational purpose.”, he frowned, but nevertheless held it towards her, a little stiff though.

 

   As fierce as her look, she snatched the thin black book, stomped back to Ron where she climbed onto the bench and knelt on the table. Holding it in both hands; with a smack that finally made everyone else in the hall stare at her; she slammed the book so hard on his head that he, letting out a loud scream, fell against Harry, who ducked away in shock, but caught him in a reflex. Panting like a dragon that had just been poked into the tail, she gritted her teeth, climbed off the table, heaved her bag over her shoulder and strutted back towards Severus, whose lips stood ajar and eyes wide open. Blinking, he gazed down on the book that was held up to him.

 

   “Thank you, Sir.”, she grinned artificially and marched around him, out of the hall, the quill still behind her ear.

   “Bloody hell!”, Ron moaned, robbing his head and trying to sit straight again. “She’s mental!”

   “Sorry, but you actually deserved that, Ron.”, Harry huffed and lightly pushed him up.

   “And barbaric!”

 

   With a faint chuckle, Severus noticed the dent Ron’s head had left in the binding. Not loosing his frown, he finally walked out of the hall as well.

 

 

~~#~~

 

 

   By the beginning of the next D.A.D.A. lesson, Ron and Hermione hadn’t spoken a word yet. In fact, Ron had tried, though failed to get anything out of his mouth but pitiful squeaking. She had not only ignored those attempts, but effectively given everyone the impression that she was totally unaware of his existence. Whenever his name fell, she said things like `Who?´ or `I have no idea what you are talking about´. It had been almost impossible to discuss anything with her that was connected to Ron in only the thinnest string of a way. But most of the time she had spent on that lone table in the corner of the common room, writing, hissing at everyone who had wanted to talk to her – even Ginny.

   So the lesson came, and once again, Harry was the one to play the dividing wall of security between the two. The usual horribly stale smell in the classroom that hadn’t been aired since the last lesson of the previous day and the black curtains half hanging into the windows, intensified the cloud of gloom lingering over the bench the trio sat on.

   Wordless, he rushed into the room, slamming the door shut, and gave all windows the opening wave of his hand, everyone was already prepared on. The students next to the windows sat far enough at the inside edges of their benches to not being swept away by the usual gust of wind hitting them. His cloak billowed as he took the last steps around the desk and came to halt behind it, his fingers crossed.

 

   “Hand in your essays.”, was his indifferent morning greeting, waiting for all students to carry their parchments to his table.

 

   A broad, self-satisfied smile on her face, Hermione put down the biggest pile, a green shimmering black feather on top. He picked it up, examined it like he was searching for fingerprints that weren’t his or hers and put it into the empty teapot, giving her a look that clearly told her to step aside for those waiting in line behind her.

 

   “Now then,”, he continued when they all were back at their seats, “In today’s lesson you will finally learn to produce a Patronus; or so you should; as a little relief to your last. All of you should know the basic theory by now and be, hopefully, able to recall it. It is on you to implement it, as good as you can. I expect hardly anyone to conjure a full corporeal Patronus, but this is not to stop you from trying as hard as possible. Given, that casting this spell is harmless to everything but Dementors or Lethifolds; or for distracting the stupid; you should be capable of working without my assistance. I in the meanwhile, will correct your papers. Get up so I can give you some space.”, they did as ordered and their benches and bags slid to the walls. “And for Heaven’s sake, try not to gouge out your classmates’ eyes.”

 

   With that, he sat down, got out his reading specs and picked the first essay. Not used to see him like this, the entire class stared at him. Nobody but a handful of them knew that he needed glasses at all. He had hidden that fact very thoroughly so far. The students in the near tried to read the name on top of the randomly taken essay in which he had just crossed out a line. That caught his attention. Peering over his glasses, his eyes hit theirs with a cold rush.

 

   “If you are expecting me to bring some Dementors in here so you can practice properly, you are waiting for the sun to explode. Except one teensy little poser among you, neither of you is even nearly close to fight off a single, tired one, and believe me, there is no such thing as a tired Dementor. So what are you waiting for?”

 

   Torn from their trance, the students began to form rows, though with the difficulties they usually had. Some were pushing others, others were pushing back some.

 

   “Now tell me,”, he murmured above the quiet turmoil, not raising his eyes this time, “Which class is this, you are in? Act like the young adults you are supposed to be according to your birth certificates, or I degrade each and every single one of you down to first-years.”

 

   Finally they managed to have enough space for their practice. Neville looked anxious. He had already had problems in the DA meetings. Harry’s encouraging wink was not much of a help for him. The first ones spoke the incantation, but their wands showed no reaction. None but a single one. A bluish white stag stormed through the room, making all of his classmates turn after it. Harry stopped it in front of the teacher’s desk. It caused a heavy sigh, that all of them heard even in regard of the fascinated moans, though hardly anyone saw through the bright light.

 

   “Very touching, Potter, but I have enough light for reading. If you are done with relishing in showcasing exactly the proof of what I just told everyone you are, you may turn off that streetlamp, sit down on the most uncomfortable bench you can find and write another essay, telling me your opinion on what influences a Patronus’ shape and what can make it change, as well as listing special forms of Patroni, describing them in a similar manner. Try to be creative. I want you to put all your heart into those five pages I will find on my desk by the end of today’s lessons. No-nos are any kinds of insults, as you might understand, and whines about your parents. I want your personal sight on the topic, but no love letter to the dead, understood?”, a grunt of Harry and the Patronus was gone. “And no house-high letters either.”

   “I told you.”, he hissed to Hermione under his breath.

   “There was no need for you to throw it at him,”, she noted as quiet. “Now do what he says, before he takes off some points, rather than asking for your personal opinion. Besides, you should really think about that particular fact.”

   “I am not deaf, you must know, Miss Granger. Nevertheless, five points to Gryffindor for putting it in a perfectly round nutshell.”

   “Damn!”, Harry murmured.

   “You see, it’s easy.”, she pouted and went back to concentration, not without a tiny smile at Severus, who returned it as hidden as could be.

 

   The moment Harry angrily pulled his bag from under a bench and sat down on it, the class continued practising. Many minutes and seven checked essays later, some of them already managed to create – a little dusty light. Those who had been in the DA, apart from Neville who finally conjured a glowing stream, had all sat down similar to Harry, writing the same kind of text. Hermione’s otter was the last in the row, much to her frustration. Her eagerness to discover a change in his expression had had negative effects on her concentration.

   Now, she thought when getting out parchment, ink and quill. Patronuses. Special forms. A rather easy task, knowing of his Twin-Patronus. But something drew her attention.

   He had cleared his throat and straightened a pile of a thickness that was very familiar to her. Hermione’s lips curled. Not able to stop it, heat rose in her face and she knew that she was visibly flushed within seconds. Fortunately, nobody looked at her as she studied his face. He was apparently reading over the regular essay. So she decided to start the personal one on Patronuses.

   Every now and then, she threw a glance up to his desk. The instant tension and chill running through her body when he put the essay to the corrected ones was; that much she could tell in her absentmindedness; the total opposite of all orgasms he had ever made her have. She knew that if her hair hadn’t been naturally bushy today, it would have stood off in every direction now.

   Swallowing, she gazed at his still bored look – which changed so rapidly that it shocked her. Although it were only his eyes, the fact that they stood wide open in the span of a split second, made her shrink, hating herself for what she had written. To her horror, Harry; sitting two benches ahead; must have noticed it as well. When he raised his head and recognisably looked at him, Hermione’s heart sank to, what she believed, beyond her shoes and she already imagined herself picking it up somewhere in the Dungeons below the tower.

   Severus blinked once. A pause, and he blinked three times, very fast. Until then, his left arm had rested on the desktop. Though now, he lifted it, placed his elbow on the wood and buried his mouth in the palm, more than obviously trying to hide any unintentional movement of his lips. To her relief, his eyes were back to normal, even if he didn’t stop his frequent additional blinking behind his glasses.

   Nevertheless his eyes spoke volumes. She could see him taking the one and other deep breath when he stiffened his shoulders or relaxed. He also swallowed heavily somewhere through page four. It was then that he shortly counted the remaining papers, for which reason ever – and cleared his throat again as he read on. Not enough, Harry’s head turned to her with a questioning look. She pretended not to see it and did as though she had just needed a thinking pause before she continued writing. She would silently erase the ink later, when Harry had given up. Only, that this would not happen until hours after.

 

   The door swung open noisily and everything in connection with Patronuses or essays was swept from the room faster than a frog could catch a fly. Shocked moans and gasps went through the class, petrified eyes on the man who stumbled in. The moment they recognised him, they were even more anxious.

   Blood was trickling from his mouth and from cuts all over his upper body. Severus was on his feet and hurried towards him, catching him just in time to prevent him from collapsing. Cautiously reaching under his shoulder, he dragged Remus through the more and more parting mass of students, up to the chair he had left and turned it to face the window before he sat Remus down on it.

 

   “Stay where you are!”, he barked at Harry who had attempted to run towards them.

 

   Remus was shaking and his breath was flat, tears of pain trickling through the bloodstains. Even more careful, Severus moved the wand he had drawn from his sleeve, down Remus’ damaged jacket and shirt, tearing it in the middle as well as over the arms. Revealing blood everywhere, he freed him from the fabric. Naturally, there was no time for questions.

   Those on the benches had gotten up to see past their classmates as their teacher started unbuttoning his robe and took it off. Two simple moves and his lavallière was in his hand. That too, he tore in the middle and bound each of Remus’ wrists to the respective side-rest. He then rolled up the sleeves of his white shirt, brushed his hands through his thick black hair and bound it with the rubber band he always wore around his right wrist.

   Some students gasped again. It were those who hadn’t known a certain fact and were now trying to get another glimpse on what was on his left forearm. But he didn’t give them a chance. A mere flick of his wand and a piece from the seam of a curtain was torn off as well, rushing towards his hand. He pressed it into a moaning, protesting Remus’ mouth. Another whip, and the door as well as the windows finally fell shut. He knelt down to Remus’ right and rummaged for something in the pouch he had pulled from under his shirt. Those students who managed to move, stepped a little closer so they could see what it was: A roll of fabric, holding various kinds of tools that didn’t look more pleasant than their former teacher’s bleeding wounds.

   Muffled by the cloth in his mouth into which he bit, a terrible scream escaped him and he pinched his eyes, his head rushing into his neck as he struggled against the bonds, fingers digging in wood. Severus had penetrated one of the cuts with thin silver tweezers.

 

   “Try to hold still.”, he said calm, examining the wound through the glasses he still wore.

   “Wag.”, was all Remus could press through the fabric before he screamed again, making students back away.

   “Got it.”, were the relieving words followed by a quieter cry and Severus pulled out something thin and sharp that was hardly recognisable due to the blood it was covered in.

   “Did you jump through a window, or what?”, Severus eyed the shard in the tweezers before he dropped it on the floor and went for the next cut.

   “Na. De windou tru me.”

   “Ready?”, Remus only nodded and swallowed before he screamed another time – and four more before the injured could get out something other than muffled cries and groans.

   “Can’d ya fummon ’em oud?”, Severus stared up at him.

   “Are you sure, you want that? Some of them seem to sit very deep and it might – ”

   “Oh fuck ya.”, Remus mumbled and Severus gave him am frustrated snort.

   “This won’t be beautiful.”

   “Ha, ha.”

   “I was talking to my students.”, he got up, took his wand from the desk and waved it at the door, which opened again. “Anyone who knows that they won’t be able to watch this, should leave now. I will not take responsibility for those who faint.”, no one moved. “Fine,”, he grunted, “Don’t say then I didn’t leave you a choice.”, and the door was slammed shut. “Draco, Hermione, come over here and help me. You need to hold him.”

 

   Everyone was too taken aback to actually realise the oddness of the call. Not only because she was closer to the desk, Hermione reached it first. She had no idea how she had reacted so fast. What he told them then, was only whispering.

 

   “Hermione, his shoulders are unscathed. Get behind the chair and hold them tight. Draco, you take his ankles. Make sure that you hold him as good as you can, when I count to three. Can you do that?”

 

   Both nodded when they had taken in said positions; Draco though looked a little disgusted. A number of girls was already holding their hands on their mouths, somewhat prepared for the worst. Some had turned away, covering their ears.

 

   “Ready?”, he stepped a little to the left and waited for three nods. “One – ”, Malfoy slightly rolled in between the legs he held, sitting on the floor. “Two – ”, Hermione pressed her eyes and mouth shut like him, clutching into Remus’ shoulders. “Three!”

 

   Almost all of the students winced at the; though hushed; terrific scream of agony with which Remus was nearly driven over the edge. Dozens of small and tiny blood smeared shards of glass soared through the air, according to the move of Severus’ wand and fell to the floor shortly before the desk level window, along with squirting stains of clear red blood that hit everything in the direction. Panting heavily, Remus collapsed into the chair.

 

   “You can let go.”, Severus addressed his two students calmly when he started moving his wand over the now even more bleeding wounds. “Did anything hit you, Draco?”, the boy carefully brushed over his slightly bloodstained hair, but couldn’t find anything alarming. “Hermione?”, she just shook her head, her face distorted with worry.

 

   While the wounds healed bit by bit, he took the wet piece of former black curtain from Remus’ mouth. Relieved, that one moved his jaw to relax it a little, calming down with every hint of pain wearing off. The last thing Severus healed was the left arm Remus had used as a pathetic defence to shield his throat.

 

   “And now, you tell me in every detail who did that and why.”, the last cut was gone, leaving only the former scars that would never vanish, and Severus started to remove all the blood he could spot anywhere.

   “Peeves.”, Remus aspirated, still breathing heavily.

   “Peeves?”, Severus murmured, giving him a short look before he continued on Malfoy’s hair and the floor.

   “Yes. I just patrolled the second floor in the East Wing when he came around the corner. You know that he never liked me. Or rather, that he hates me.”

   “You have given him all reason, if I may say that.”, the curtain was whole again and some drops that had hit the desk were gone as well.

   “I know. Well, I won’t say, I don’t deserve some punishment for all I did to him. But actually blasting a window at me, is far beyond licit. Albus won’t be amused.”

   “Though he will not be able to throw him out.”

   “I know. He’s bound to the castle, unfortunately.”, the straps opened and became a completely intact lavallière again, landing gently in Severus’ hand; he then finally freed himself from the blood that had hit him.

   “What?”, Harry hissed quietly to himself, but loud enough to catch his teacher’s, Ron’s and Hermione’s attention.

 

   Utterly confused green eyes stared past Hermione, straight into a pair of dark ones. For a moment, he met with a blank face. The hair had been exactly like that. The only difference, the short full beard, the earring as well as hat and jacket of the uniform the once Monday-postman had worn, were missing. Now that he thought about it, it had been Christmas before his eleventh birthday – the day that would make him old enough to go to Hogwarts. Though a second later, the hair was down and the rubber band on the wrist as if that moment, just hadn’t happened.

   Hermione turned back to Severus, only to see him binding the lavallière around his collar, eyes on Remus, who had repaired his torn clothes with a flick of the wand he had managed to tuck into a back pocket of his trousers before he had entered the classroom. On his feet again and thereby building an unnoticed barrier in the way of Harry’s view, he adjusted his repaired clothes as well.

 

   “So, Patronuses?”, Remus chuckled, doing the best he could to make his ragged clothes look good – only Severus saw the flick of jealousy at the clean black robe he buttoned up. “How many managed to create a corporeal one?”

   “An extraordinary number of nine, or should I say, eight. Two are close, but struggling a little too much.”

   “Fantastic.”, Remus beamed. “But Harry’s Patronus is extraordinary, if he manages to overcome momentary fears. You know that as much as I do.”, the grunt when Severus threw on his long cloak couldn’t have been more obvious. “Even if I can understand that the knowledge might not really please you.”, a snicker escaped Hermione and he turned to her.

   “Nothing.”, she smiled broadly, pressing her lips together. “It’s nothing.”, she added mumbling, but the smile became a little panicking when she was presented with an extremely dark, warning look Remus didn’t see. “Sorry.”, Severus took a deep breath and rolled his eyes when he directed his look to the floor, startling at the sight, before he slouched his shoulders.

   “Honestly.”, he moaned at Malfoy, who still sat between him and Remus. “This floor isn’t that comfortable.”

   “Sorry, Sir.”, he mumbled hastily and got up, wiping dust off his clothes.

   “Er – Severus – do you have something I can put those shards in?”, Remus pointed on them, still on the floor as well. “Just in case, he thinks I am dead enough he can try to repair the window.”

   “Yes.”

 

   Severus walked around Malfoy and opened one of the desk’s drawers. Meanwhile, Remus had spotted a word on a certain piece of parchment that gained his attention so effectively, he couldn’t resist taking a closer look. Hermione swallowed in extreme panic, turning bright red. Even Malfoy noticed it, frowning at her and, to increase her despair, leaned a little to the right for a look on the text himself. Away from Hermione’s eyes, Remus had already narrowed his brows in disbelief. The left however, sped up when a flat hand blocked his view. He kept the look when he raised his head, facing a leisurely leaning Severus who held a corked bottle under his nose, his expression as bored as his pose indicated the prohibition of Remus’ gaze.

 

   “For someone who has just escaped death, your are outrageously prying. Can you fill it yourself or do you want me to do it?”, he murmured; Remus opened his mouth to say something, his eyes flicking between the covered parchment and Severus’ face. “Yes?”

 

   Remus only blinked some fast times, quickly took the glass which he opened and summoned the shards into. The essay, luckily bracketed together, was turned over. Unfortunately, there was text on the last page as well, but Severus simply shoved the piece in question between the corrected essays, giving Hermione another brief, killing glance.

 

   “For someone who has been teaching for about sixteen years, you are extremely unwise.”, Remus countered whispering.

   “For your information,”, Severus replied quietly through his teeth, his face now very close to the other’s as he had abandoned the pile, “I didn’t expect anything like this to land on my desk.”

   “Of course not.”

   “That is the truth.”

   “Spare your breath. Unbelievable, to what you are degrading her.”

   “The reasons behind this essay are very complex, though a lone punishment. I was hoping for something professional, regarding a simple topic, not an insane lecture like that. It has never come to my mind that she would actually write such a piece at all. I have not ordered it.”

   “Sure.”, Remus chuckled dull.

   “I could present him with a different version of your story. Let us see, whom he would believe more.”

   “Does he really trust you that much? Well, maybe then this would stymie you: if you lie to him about Peeves, I will tell him about your spare time activities, plus, referring to that essay.”

   “Just you try. He knows about those spare time activities you mean.”

   “No.”

   “He does.”, Severus hissed, a frightening glistening in his eyes. And it might interest you, that he hasn’t got the slightest problem with it. Anything you tell him, will only result in your jealousy being bared.”

   “Jealousy. Tz.”, Remus shook his head and walked around him and the desk. “You should hear yourself.”

   “You as well.”, Severus gnarled after him. “As I already told you, the train is full. No matter what you try, you will not get a seat on it.”

   “As if that matters to me.”, he strode towards the door.

   “Oh, it does, Remus. It does. You are lying to yourself, if you try to deny it now.”

   “Well,”, he stopped and turned around, “If you possess just a hint of the dignity I have, you would not discuss this topic anymore. There are students present and you said yourself, that you don’t want me to talk about it in public. Why, yes,”, he raised a finger, “I forgot, you don’t have any dignity!”

   “Listen to how pathetically desperate your childishness is trying to break free. He is dead. There is no need for you to let the remains of his attitude infest your brain.”

   “You dare to speak about him like – ”

   “He didn’t dare to speak about me any different either, when he was still wandering around in this world. May I remind you, that it was you who told me to ignore him?”

   “That – is – ”

   “What is it?”, Severus crossed his arms. “It is nothing but true. I am not at all sure about you, but I have grown up. So, unless you want to be the hot topic of the Great Hall, I advise you to come to my office after lunch. Though don’t expect me to take your preposterous accusations seriously.”, he lazily frowned at the last word.

   “Don’t you – ”, Remus spat.

   “Wasn’t there something you wanted to say?”

   “What!”

   “Forgive me. I forgot that you are an ungrateful little puppy.”

 

   His expression became so cold, Remus couldn’t find any words. Huffing, he spun on his heels and stomped for the door, which refused to open.

 

   “Let me out.”, he gritted his teeth.

   “Climb down from your throne and be the man you want me to see in you.”, Severus said calm, looking over his specs.

   “I said, let me out!”

   “Shall I repeat myself as well?”, Remus took a deep breath and curled his lips.

   “Thank you.”, he murmured; only then the door opened for him.

 

   Dropping no more words, he stormed out, right when the bell rang for the last period before lunch. With a sigh, Severus stuck his wand back into his sleeve, knelt down and picked up the tools that still laid on the floor. Having stored the tweezers and bound the thick black cloth together, he made a single pile of the essays on his desk. After that, he placed the bundle on top and heaved it all onto his arm. Not until then he took off his reading glasses, slipped them into his pocket and looked around, a little tired.

 

   “There is no need to pretend you would still be able to practise the Patronus Charm. Therefore, try to make the best of your free period. I advise you to spend it with writing your essays. Yes, I would like such an essay from each of you on my desk by the beginning of our next lesson, no matter how grand or pathetic your Patronus looks like. Pack your things. You may leave the benches the way they are. And Miss Cheeky, I want you in my office at eight in the afternoon to discuss your extra homework.”, Hermione swallowed and stared after him like everyone else when he left the classroom.

   “Honestly, Hermione, what did you write into that essay?”, Ron moaned when he was gone.

   “Now don’t act as if you cared for me.”, she snapped, spun around and packed her things before anyone could wake from their paralysis.

   “And how the heck did you manage to be the first one to receive points from him?”

   “Constant vigilance!”, sung Hermione and left as well.

   “Blimey! Harry? Er – Harry? Are you – okay?”

   “What?”, his friend startled from his thoughts.

   “You look empty – like someone drilled a hole into your head – ”

   “Drills – ”, Harry aspirated, blank.

   “D- what?”

   “Nothing.”, he mumbled hastily and went for his stuff too.

   “Wicked.”

 

 

~~#~~

 

 

   “That steak is really delicious, Harry.”, spiked on a fork, a piece of the meat was held in front of his nose in rotating moves.

   “I said, I’m not hungry, Ron.”, he growled and pushed his friend’s hand aside.

   “Then not.”, Ron ate it himself. “What’sh it nouw?”, he swallowed, “The P again? Or the H things?”

   “Oh listen to yourself, Ron.”, Ginny murmured. “The way you talk, it’s a miracle that you haven’t got stalkers yet as well.”

   “Stalkers? Oy wait – Parvati?”, the girl turned to him.

   “Are you actually stalking Snape?”

   “I’m not!”, she protested immediately, but couldn’t hide the embarrassment. “Who told you that?”

   “Well, Snape himself, if you remember. So?”

   “I’m not stalking any-”, Ginny’s murderous look hit her, “One.”, she finished her sentence with a gargle and cleared her throat to cover the fact.

   “Alright.”, Ron sighed and continued talking to Harry. “Whataya think, Hermione wrote into that essay?”

   “No idea.”, Harry grumbled, staring into distance, shortly meeting Malfoy’s eyes without really wanting it and both pretended it hadn’t happened.

   “But it’s curious, isn’t it? I mean, where is she?”

   “Probably the library. Looking up special forms of Patronuses.”, he considered. “I should go there too. I’m totally clueless on that matter.”, he stood up, grabbed two slices of bread, placed a dry steak in between, wrapped it all in a napkin and left.

   “Hmm. Yeah.”

   “So what exactly happened in that lesson?”, Ginny leaned over to her brother.

 

 

~~#~~