The Tale of Two Enemies

Chapter One

Hermione sat at her usual seat in the far corner of Hogwarts library. It was the only place that offered her peace and quiet, but above all, privacy. Privacy to engage in her favourite hobby. She knew she should be ashamed, writing fantasy stories about her best friend and his most despised professor, only she couldn't help it. She would be utterly mortified should Harry find these ramblings, but then, why should he? He wasn't liable to be going through her stuff.

It was a compulsion that had infested her heart, taken over her love of activities her peers would deem normal or expected.

Exams and studying be damned.

The witch withdrew a notebook from her bag before sliding it in between the pages a library book. She proceeded to withdraw a quill before aiming it directly at the blank page before her.

~

Harry felt his body falling towards the bottom of the great lake. No amount of gilliweed would save him now as he felt the ends of reeds tighten around his ankles. It seemed every muscle in his body tightened as his vision became jaded with a wash of red.

He was drowning.

Who would save him now?

Who even knew he was there?

He always assumed his death would be at the hands of Voldemort, not some reeds in the Great Lake.

Snape stood at the potions classroom window, his eyes surveying the vast expanse of forbidden forest and great lake. He had been watching the young wizard all day, he was up to something and he knew it. Only what? Preparing for the next Tri-Wizard Cup challenge seemed like the most logical answer. Potter had disappeared beneath the lakes surface, yet had failed to surface. He must be trying gilliweed, then again there are all sorts of creatures in that lake, not all of them friendly.

Snape retrieved his wand, pointing its tip at the lake before muttering an inaudible spell. This way he will be alerted should Potter find himself in danger. He had a potion's list as long as his arm to complete, yet he felt compelled to stand at the window.

The professor suddenly felt it, his heart pounded, a thump so heavy it felt as though someone was taking a mallet to his rib cage.

Potter was seriously in trouble.

Harry closed his eyes to the world, why did the green murky water have to be the last thing he witnessed of this world? He clawed at his throat as his lungs became inundated with the bitter water.

This was it.

This was how he would die.

Harry felt a force act out against his body, drawing him upward yet he still couldn't command his body to move.

He was now above the surface of the lake as his lungs instinctively began to expel the fluid that tried to kill him. He was in someone's arms, only who's? He dared to pry his eyes open, only to have his vision obscured by more relentless droplets of water. The person carrying him was warm, their wet, bare chest radiated a welcomed heat as Harry allowed himself to rest against it.

"You'll be alright Potter." The man spat, only his voice was familiar, dangerously so.

Harry reached into the recesses of his mind, searching desperately for the face that matched the words he had just bore witness to.

No.

Surely not?

Harry's eyes widened, despite the water dousing his vision.