In Somnis Veritas

16

Severus Snape did not see his former shadow for the rest of the Christmas holidays, other than the odd glimpse of the boy from across the Great Hall or in one of the corridors.

The year ended quickly and before he knew it, the new term had begun and he was, once again, preparing to teach class after class of dunderheaded children.

His year got off to a good start with a dose of double potions for first years, and within that initial two hour period, Hermione Granger had put her hand in the air a record 24 times, whilst Neville had spilled his potion a good many more.

And Potter? Potter was sat at the back of the classroom with a face on him.

The potions master was not sure exactly what he had done to upset the boy, but the brat gave him one word answers throughout, throwing the odd glare in his direction.

By the end of the lesson, Severus Snape had had enough, and he ordered the boy to stay behind as the other children filed out of the lab.

Stopping and putting his bag back down on the desk when he was called, Harry busied himself with picking at a stray piece of threat hanging from its handle, avoiding eye contact with his teacher.

"Mr Potter, have I done something to offend you?" Snape asked, evenly.

Harry shrugged his shoulders.

"That is not an acceptable response to my question," the potions master told him. "You have been sulky and petulant throughout the class. Is there a problem?"

"No sir, I'm just tired," the boy mumbled in response.

"Then, perhaps an earlier bed time?" Snape suggested.

"Alright," Harry agreed, picking up his bag again and putting it over his shoulder. "Can I go now?"

Snape inclined his head.

"And Mr Potter? If there... is something troubling you... you are more than welcome to join me in my quarters this evening to discuss it," he said, as the boy reached the door.

"I can't. I've got Quidditch practice tonight," Harry told him flatly.

And then he left the room, without so much as a second glance in Snape's direction.

OOOOOOO

Harry's next class was Defence Against the Dark Arts, but when Professor Quirrell failed to show, Hermione suggested they go to the library.

So whilst all of their classmates embarked on an extra hour's break, she frog-marched the two boys off, telling them she had something to show them.

"Wonder what she's got in store for us?" Ron asked, when the girl had left the two of them alone at one of the desks.

Harry just shrugged, playing absent-mindedly with his pencil.

"You alright mate?" the red head asked, noticing his friend's sombre mood.

"Yeah, just tired," Harry told him, as Hermione returned with a huge book in her arms.

"I had you looking in the wrong section," she told Harry, throwing it down onto the desk with some force. "How could I be so stupid? I checked this out weeks ago for a bit of light reading."

"This is light?" Ron asked, sceptically.

Fixing him with a glare, Hermione turned the pages of the book.

"Of course. Here it is," she said, pointing at one of the paragraphs. "Nicholas Flamel is the only known maker of the Philosopher's Stone."

"That what?" Harry and Ron asked in unison.

"Honestly, don't you two read?" Hermione asked. "The Philosopher's Stone is a legendary substance with astonishing powers. It'll transform any metal into pure gold, and produces the elixir of life which will make the drinker immortal."

"Immortal?" Ron frowned.

"It means you'll never die," she clarified.

"I know what it means!" he huffed, incensed.

Harry shushed him, keen to hear what Hermione had to say.

"The only stone currently in existence belongs to Mr Nicholas Flamel, the noted alchemist, who last year celebrated his 665th birthday," she continued. "That's what Fluffy's guarding on the third floor. That's what's under the trapdoor! The Philosopher's Stone."

"I'll bet Snape's trying to steal it," Ron said, hotly.

Hermione cast a glance at Harry. "I don't know, Ron. Harry said he didn't think it was Professor Snape..."

Harry shrugged, giving her a wry smile. "I dunno, maybe Ron was right all along."

"What d'you mean?" Hermione frowned. "I thought you and Professor Snape were getting along well? Did something happen?"

Shrugging his shoulders, Harry stood up and packed his books away. "I think it was all just an act, really."

"An act?"

"Doesn't matter. I don't really want to talk about it," he said.

"Where are you going? We need to think about who might be trying to steal the stone and why," Hermione told him.

"I'm not really in the mood, Hermione. I'm sorry. I'm just gonna go back to the common room for a bit. I'll see you both at lunch," Harry told them.

"D'you think he's alright?" Ron asked, as the two of them watched him walk away. "He's acting a bit weird. He has been since..."

"Since Potions," Hermione confirmed.

"Well, you can hardly blame him for that. Two hours with Snape is bloody awful," he commented.

Hermione shook her head, frowning. "That's the thing, Harry owled me just after Christmas and told me what a great time he'd had with the professor over the winter break. He seemed really... happy."

"Must be barking," Ron muttered.

"Something must have happened," she concluded. "You should try talking to him."

"Me?!" he cried. "Why me? You're a girl – girls are good at that sort of thing, so if you really want to know, maybe you should do it yourself. Or better still, maybe you should mind your own business, I'm sure Harry will tell us if he wants us to know."

"Honestly, Ronald. Don't you care about him at all?" Hermione asked, unimpressed.

"Of course I do! But badgering him about it won't do any good. He'll tell us in his own time," Ron reasoned. "And besides, if he's shot of that greasy git, that can only be a good thing. I never understood why he gave Snape the time of day."

"You just don't get it, do you?" she sighed. "Harry isn't like us, Ron. He doesn't have any parents. And I don't think his relatives are... the best..."

"Yeah, I know," Ron admitted.

"Harry spending time with Professor Snape was... well, it was probably nice for him to have an adult he could depend on," Hermione told him.

Ron pulled a face. "But really, Hermione? Snape? It's not like he's gonna be Harry's new dad or something..."

She rolled her eyes. "You're so pig-headed sometimes, Ronald. Just because you don't like Professor Snape. Couldn't you see that Harry did?"

"Yeah, and you heard what he just said. Somethings happened and now Harry's seen what he's really like," Ron pointed out. "Honestly Hermione, I think you should just leave it be."

Exhaling, Hermione stood up, picking up the large book.

"Where are you going?" he frowned.

"To talk to Professor Snape. Maybe I'll get some sense out of him," she said, turning on her heel.

OOOOOOO