Harry tumbled down the stairs to breakfast, all his usual grace shed in his exhausted state. And he still had a full day of class to go. Charms was going to be doing something interesting, he just knew it. As was usual when Harry was completely exhausted because of circumstances outside his control, he'd simply ask Hermione. The twisting in his belly, however, wanted to tell him something else. That this wasn't outside of his control, and that he should feel guilty.
Harry had tried that last night, had pounded his fists until that lily Luna gave him had turned completely transparent. Today, though, he was actually looking forward to seeing Draco Malfoy. Maybe figure out what he'd wanted to say. Maybe just put his face through the bastard's nose. Try not to kill him, though, because that would just get messy. Not that anyone could really be upset for Harry The Chosen One for killing Draco The Death Eater. But as two schoolchildren, Harry could and would be blamed. Possibly expelled.
Harry's head was starting to itch, on the side towards the high table. He looked up, to see Snape's ugly mug turning towards Pomona Sprout. In of itself, that was odd, because Snape's lack of morning cheer meant he generally just did the whole Silence While Eating. Harry wasn't going to think about that, though, was he? No, Harry thought, turning back to his own breakfast.
Not twenty seconds later, he could feel that itch again. Up his eyes flicked, to find Snape sugaring his tea.
Snape was glaring fiery doom at him, and trying to avoid Harry seeing it.
Snape obviously thought something was wrong, and Harry was at the heart of it.
Mentally, Harry took an inventory:
Near Madness? Not this year, Harry was pretty sure, though Tommy might think differently.
Near-death escapades? Not even once.
Insatiable Curiosity? Bingo.
But, Harry had really expected Snape to ignore him, not start playing 'eyetag.'
Something was wrong with this picture.
Well, yesterday... Yesterday he'd simply have asked.
Maybe that was it. Maybe Snape had something Potter-related on his mind, and he wanted answers. But he, being the prideful and stubborn bastard that he was, was unwilling to actually talk with Harry. Harry knew all about pride and stubbornness, he had several scars to prove it.
Maybe it was something important.
Harry struggled with the idea that Snape would let a fit of fury doom innocent lives.
This was Severus Snape.
Of course he would.
I can't trust you.
Well, then dose me with veritaserum, or aren't you a Potions Master? Harry would, if he could have caught Snape's gaze, tried to throw that thought bodily across the Great Hall.
Alas, it was not to be.
[a/n: What's snape on about? Is Harry right? Has anyone else noticed? Now might be a bad time to ask Harry for a date.