you raise me up || harry potter

chapter 50

»»————-　song:　————-««

sleep

★ by my chemical romance ★

❝ some say, now suffer all the children
and walk away a savior

or a madman and polluted
from gutter institutions. ❞

♢ ♢ ♢

Harry was still very much sore that Snape had taken the Marauder's map from him, but what could he do about it? He was lucky he hadn't gotten a detention or anything, although that was mostly thanks to Lupin. 

Speaking of the Defense professor, Hermione looked worried as she sliced up her potions ingredients next to Harry (Snape had ordered inter-house pairs for class today) and murmured to Harry: "You know, I've been meaning to talk to you... about Lupin."

"Lupin? What about him?" Harry frowned as he looked up at the board for the next step. It was significantly easier to follow potion instructions with clear eyesight, not to mention the occasional sessions that could count as tutoring that Snape insisted on giving him under the guise of "detentions." Potions was still far from Harry's favorite subject, but it wasn't completely incomprehensible anymore. And a lot of it wasn't mind-numbingly boring at all—who knew Felix Felicis had been banned from Quidditch events in 1753 because it gave players an unfair advantage?

"I've been doing some research, and I think I've figured it out," Hermione said in a low whisper. Harry nodded for her to go on, although he was only half listening; this potion was time sensitive. "I realized it after that essay we did—"

Hermione was interrupted by a menacing clearing of the throat. She looked up nervously into the eyes of Snape, who glared down at her. "Did anyone say anything about this being a solo effort?" Snape asked. "From the looks of it, Potter is surprisingly carrying the brunt of the work... are you sure you want me to give you credit for today's assignment?"

"Yes, sir," Hermione squeaked in alarm, horrified at the thought of receiving a zero for a grade. She immediately bent back over her work. 

"So, what were you saying about Lupin?" Harry whispered when Snape swept away. 

Hermione bit her lip. "Oh, nothing," she said. 

Harry knew it was a lie. Three years in Slytherin had allowed Harry to hone his lie detecting skills (not to mention his own ability to lie), and Hermione wasn't exactly the subtlest of people. Still, he dropped it, because he figured she'd tell him in her own time.

Besides, he had his own issues to worry about. Ignoring his former-best friend was harder than he thought, since they shared most of their classes with each other, and lived in the same room. Draco had long since stopped trying to get Harry to talk to him again, and spent his days in a limbo between haughty indifference and moping melancholy. The rest of the third-year Slytherins seemed to have picked up on the strange atmosphere between the two, and most suspected a falling-out; but since Draco never actually publicly announced it, everyone tactfully avoided addressing it. 

Harry felt guilty, sure. Plenty guilty (Heartbroken, dare he say). But he suspected that in the years to come, if he had to pick between feeling guilty over abandoning a friend and feeling guilty about being on the wrong side of history, choosing the latter would be the wisest choice.

And on top of that, Hermione and Ron were fighting over Scabbers and Crookshanks. It was exhausting, trying to mediate the two, and more than once Harry ended up resorting to some Slytherin trickery; he'd invite Hermione to the library, and Ron separately, and force them to at least face each other for an hour. At first it seemed to worsen the situation, but after Harry plotted several variations of this, they gave up and gave in, and the tension seemed to be easing somewhat.