Easier Time

Chapter 8: Questions

Their comfortable walk had changed when they reached the castle.

Harry's moves were clumsy and unrefined in comparison to Severus', who walked with elegance even when rushing through the castle as if he was being hunted. Feeling slightly breathless, Harry struggled to keep up with the hurried tempo. When he accidentally stumbled over his own feet, although the floor was flat underneath his shoes, he couldn't prevent falling behind. Thankfully he dodged a faceplant at the last minute but his palms were less lucky as they scratched against the dirt, taking the painful fall.

In a rugged breath he called out, "Hey, wait up!"

Snape didn't pause.

He didn't even cast a look over his shoulder.

Gritting his teeth, Harry got up on his feet again and stalked after the other boy, barely able to catch up to him. When Snape reached the corner of the hallway, Harry was forced to jog. Eventually he was close enough to grab Snape's arm, as he snapped, "Didn't you hear me?"

Snape snatched his arm away from the grip, causing Harry's breath to freeze in his lungs.

"I did."

"Then, why didn't you wait for me?"

He almost bit his tongue when the words came out whiny and sounding far more upset than he liked to show.

Snape snorted, "Because it wasn't needed. You're clearly right next to me again, after all."

"I couldn't keep up with you and fell. Look how I scraped my skin." He held out his hands as evidence, palms red and dusty, while pouting to add some effect to his statement of being hurt.

Snape glanced but wasn't affected, looking expressionless and uncaring. "You'll survive."

Harry gave him a narrow-eyed glare, finally remembering what type of person he was dealing with. This was Severus Snape. The teacher that had been awful during all of his years at Hogwarts. Someone he hated from the moment they had met, and Harry wasn't a hateful person. No, it was all Professor Snape's fault. He might be hot now, but it was still the same person, the same soul.

Snape had begun walking again and Harry grudgingly followed, even after this realisation.

"You're not heading to the infirmary..."

"Of course not."

"I thought you were hurt." His voice was breathless, as he mumbled, "Or at least pretending to be."

He knew that Hooch would speak to Madame Pomfrey later, what if she asked if they had come by and the woman said no?

"And here I thought you were cool enough to not make a big deal of a little fall." Snape drawled sarcastically, "Is your hands still hurting from the fall you took? Do you want me to escort you to the nurse?" He said it in a mockingly caring tone, one that had zero authenticity.

"No, I'll survive." Harry bitterly repeated the words the other had said a minute ago.

He could have been wrong, but it almost looked like a smile was tugging on Snape's lips. They continued to walk in the fast pace. Harry still couldn't understand what the hurry was.

Then, out of nowhere Snape whirled around, stopping right in front of him with eyebrows furrowed in confusion. He tore around so quickly that they almost smacked into each other. Snape inspected him with calculating eyes and placed his hands on his hips, a recognisable sign of wanting answers that all of his students had learned over the years was a sign of danger. Harry swallowed, wondering if that gesture still indicated that.