Gold Tinted Spectacles (Hecatemus Book #1)

Chapter 5 - Revelations (pt1)

Harry had not felt well since the moment he had crawled out of bed that morning, and it had only been getting worse since. The vague headache that had started behind his eyes at breakfast was now a sharp stabbing pain every few seconds and a sick feeling in his stomach that wanted to return the meagre amount of food he had been able to consume that morning, back from whence it had come.

Even the wonderful memories of the previous evening with Draco could not distract him from his physical discomfort. Harry was reminded of the incident a week and a half ago, and if he had been sitting in anyone's class but Snape's he would have asked to be excused. As it was, he just prayed for the lesson to end.

Harry had already made up his mind that he was not going to make it to his next class, and all he had to do was hang on.

Today's work was a theory lesson not a practical, which was a blessing at least, but Harry had given up taking notes about half way through. Ron was scribbling away so frantically next to him that his friend had not noticed his predicament.

Harry was staring fixedly at the partially filled page of parchment, praying for deliverance when his vision suddenly went negative. It was as if the whole world was leaping up to swallow him; everything was too loud and bright silvers, golds and bronzes. Harry felt awash with emotions that seemed to have come from nowhere. The pain in his head increased to the point where he heard himself whimper.

The next thing he knew there was a dark shape looming over him and it was like an icy barrier standing less than a foot away. It was a strange relief in the turmoil that Harry's world had so suddenly become, but as part of him appreciated Snape's cool presence, the rest of him knew he was in trouble.

"Is there something you wish to share with the rest of the class, Potter?" his most adversarial professor's tone was almost conversational, but there was the familiar underlying sneer.

Harry would have replied if he'd been able to, but he could barely process the fact that someone was talking to him, let alone formulate a response. Snape's words were distorted and far too loud. It was like someone shouting in his ear, but with sounds that had been bounced through a long cave system.

"Mr Potter," Snape said slowly when Harry did not reply, "look at me when I am speaking to you."

His untidy handwriting on the page was moving in his vision and every time he glanced away from the almost blank sheet Harry felt overloaded. It took an extraordinary effort for him to drag his eyes away from the desk and look up. Snape's customary sneer was in place and it jumped out at Harry with metallic tinges. It was like watching a TV where the signal was being passed through a scrambler.

Harry had hoped that he didn't look as bad as he felt, but Snape's expression changed the moment the professor saw his face. It shocked him to actually see concern on the potions master's features.

"Are you unwell, Potter?" Snape asked in a much more, almost gentle tone.

The pain in his head caused Harry to wince and although the professor's words were spoken at a moderate level they tore through his senses like a knife. It was too much and Harry could feel his mind trying to shut it out and failing. He tried to tell Snape what was happening, but the only thing that came out of his mouth was a quiet whimper.

Harry felt his connection to the world slipping out of his control and he began to slide sideways. Snape reached out to steady him and as the professor's hand touched his arm Harry couldn't help himself he screamed.

It was like knives being stabbed into his body as the simple touch sent pain shooting through every nerve. Harry felt as if his whole body was rejecting the contact and he couldn't take it anymore. The scream slowly dying in his throat, Harry let the world fade away into blissful darkness.