Let Me Hear You

[ Sunday Blues ]

Never in my life has a person confused me as much as Severus Snape. The most formidable professor in Hogwarts tipped my whole world upside down in a matter of days. I have never had to struggle with knowing exactly how to respond to a person. Around him, I feel like an ordinary witch, and it's infuriating. I often wish I weren't born a Legilimens; it is a blessing and a curse.

Last night I tossed and turned, both too cold and too hot, exhausted and wide awake. With an abysmal two hours' sleep, I dragged myself to breakfast. After not eating dinner and roaming the halls sharing my most kept secrets, I am famished, not to mention my thumping headache. The Great Hall is often fairly quiet on a Sunday; everyone is either sleeping in or enjoying their day outside. Today was no different; at least half of the students weren't present.

With a heavy sigh, I sat down next to Tas. "I'm surprised to see you here." I mumbled. "Well, good morning to you too." She wasn't happy to be here either. I loaded my plate with eggs, bacon, and some buttered toast. As hungry as I am, looking at the food in front of me is making me nauseous. This headache is quickly turning into a migraine, and I can feel the colour draining from my face.

I leant my elbows on the table and cradled my head in my hands, covering my eyes. "Are you alright, Hazel? You look terrible." Tas gently laid her hand on my shoulder, and I groaned. "I feel worse." Talking made bile bubble up in my throat. I took a small sip of pumpkin juice and rested my head back in my hands. "You should go to Madam Pomfrey." I couldn't respond; I didn't think I was going to be able to stand. What's worse, Tas' worry was only intensifying my migraine.

Just as I was trying to push her feelings out, another set washed over me. Damn. He was concerned too, and I couldn't help but groan. "Miss Goldstein, are you unwell?" He already knew the answer, and I would hazard a guess he had a headache too. I couldn't turn around, knowing that if I lifted my head and let the light in, I would vomit. He was feeling it too, and it was becoming harder to stay conscious. I couldn't speak, but I knew I needed help; I internally pleaded that he would understand. "I will escort Miss Goldstein to the hospital wing." I heard his deep voice behind me, but he sounded muffled and distant.

I equally wanted Snape to back away and stay close. A strange paradox: needing someone who is causing you pain to stay with you. I felt a large hand firmly but softly grab my upper arm. He lifted me with extraordinary ease over the bench and steadied me. I still couldn't open my eyes, but feeling his hand on me brought a level of comfort I couldn't explain. "Can you walk?" He whispered lowly. I nodded once, swaying. I could feel he was concerned about me, but also because there were eyes on us. I doubt he has ever helped an ill student, let alone physically supported them.

I kept my eyes shut tightly as he steered me out of the Great Hall. I was shaking; I lied, I couldn't walk. He briefly let go of my arm, and my legs gave way. Before I crashed to the floor, I reached out with one hand to grab his arm and the other the front of his robes. I was panting, and I could tell he was too. He tensed under my touch, but surprisingly didn't remove me. "You shouldn't have helped me." I croaked out. "I'm making you sick." I could feel his migraine was as bad as mine. "And I'm making you worse." He mumbled. He felt a mix of concern, guilt, and physical pain; it was excruciating.

I was still clutching on to him. I didn't want to let go, but I wondered why he hadn't made me. He placed his hand over mine, which was still scrunched in his robes, and gently pried my fingers off. "I knew you couldn't walk." He huffed, annoyed but amused. I opened my eyes for the first time since I sat down in the Great Hall. I looked at his hand on mine and gulped – our first skin-to-skin contact; Merlin, his hands are soft.

I felt a dull zap, and heat radiated from his fingers and through mine. It was warmer than regular body heat, but not uncomfortable. I could feel my heartbeat pulsing where our skin connected, and I wondered if he felt the same. I felt flame-covered butterflies erupt in my stomach.