Just beneath the surface

Chapter 4

Friday passed as dreadfully slow as most Fridays did, and it was too swiftly followed by a weekend that did not ease Ella of her workload. The young Ravenclaw was tired, and much to her dismay, she was finding the comfort of her bed to be rather appealing compared to her previously thinking it was lazy to be stuck beneath blankets until lunchtime.
But lunchtime came and passed on both Saturday and Sunday, and Ella did not bother to attend the Great Hall—she wasn't hungry anyway, and it wasn't like she needed the extra calories when all she had done was lay in bed until early afternoon, she thought.
Dinner was different, however, and Ella understood that if she was going to skip both breakfast and lunch, that she simply had to attend dinner. Especially if she was going to use long hours late at night to catch up on the homework she had avoided all morning.

***

Professor Snape's thoughts were surprisingly clear of a certain chestnut haired student as the weekend passed, and he thought that perhaps he had been too quick to label Ella as unwell. He had caught glimpses of the girl at dinner, and she looked present and well engaged in conversation amongst her peers.
Maybe Ella's slip in health had been a one off, and perhaps it was being in the company of her dreadful family that had turned her to such a violent act, Snape thought as he wandered the dark forest collecting potions ingredients for the coming week.
Yes, perhaps he had simply overreacted at the possibility of Miss White not being quite herself, he had experienced the delightful company of her parents during trips with the Headmaster to the ministry, and Professor Snape could not fathom how such a kind, lovely girl had been a product of two people whom simply thought they were above whoever else happened to be in the room with them.

***

Professor Snape felt nothing short of grateful that it was Ravenclaw's he taught for last period on a Monday afternoon. God help him if it had been Gryffindor, he thought as the fifth years brewed their potions in quiet concentration.
Ella was in the class, and Snape observed that the girl seemed alert and knew exactly what she was doing—as if he had expected anything else from her. Snape wondered about Ella and if she was alright, but she had seemed fine on Friday evening when he had asked her to bottle the potions without him as he had a meeting with the Headmaster and a team from St. Mungo's about the prices of the potions required for their treatments.
Professor Snape had not been shocked—or anything other than expectant— that he had returned to his classroom to see seventy two individually labelled vials set on his desk and a steaming cup of tea kept warm by a heat charm. The girl truly was too gentle souled for what he expected she was going through.

So his eyes didn't linger on the student during the class, and perhaps he ought to check that Ella was alright during their evening session tonight, but for now he was satisfied with the girl.

Until he wasn't.

Upon signalling the class to leave for the day, Snape returned to his position at his desk and pulled a stack of essays out ready to mark before dinner.
It was a couple of minutes later that a commotion toward the back of the classroom caught his attention.

"El? You alright?" A mousy haired boy asked, and it caught Snape's attention to find that Ella had been halted between the desks by said boy, and a blonde haired girl who looked equally concerned for Miss White.

"Is there a problem?" Snape asked, and immediately wished he had spoken softer as all three students visibly jumped.

"No sir, nothing at all." Ella chirped back, not turning to face her Professor and beginning to walk towards the door, her peers slightly in front of her.

It took Professor Snape all of four long strides until he was behind them. Just in time to grip Ella's elbows and hold her up as her knees buckled and her friends called out in alarm.