Stopping outside the library, Severus Snape scowled. Since when had he come to think of the boy as his?
He had never asked for such responsibility of course, yet somehow, life with Harry had become the new normal. But now the boy was barely speaking to him, and he hadn't seen him since the incident in the lavatories on the last day of term. And his quarters were so quiet.
He sneered to himself. After everything he had done for the boy, the ungrateful whelp had started to behave like a Potter at long last. If the boy didn't want to associate with him anymore, then what should he care? He would make the most of having his quarters – and his life – back.
Yet that hadn't stopped him from scouring the castle for the last two hours in search of the child. But Harry hadn't been in any of his usual places, and the Fat Lady, who was feeling particularly obnoxious today, had refused to permit the professor entry to the Gryffindor common room or confirm whether he was inside.
So he was trying the only place he could think of.
Entering the library, Snape did a swift lap, but found it empty.
Except for…
Stopping behind a row of books, he squinted, seeing movement in the far corner of the room.
It wasn't Harry – but perhaps, the next best thing. For there, tucked away at a small desk, surrounded by books and scribbling furiously, was Hermione Granger.
Moving silently, Snape went to stand behind the girl.
"Good evening."
Hermione jumped, slamming whatever she was scribbling in shut and spinning around in her chair to look at him.
"P-Professor Snape."
"In the current climate, Miss Granger, it seems unwise for you to be secreting yourself at the back of the library alone," he said smoothly.
She pushed back her hair, recovering from her initial shock. "Madame Pince is around somewhere."
"In any case, you ought to be careful."
"I will, sir," the girl nodded, and then turned back to her desk, pulling out a piece of parchment which appeared to be a Charms essay and picking up her quill.
Snape cleared his throat. "As it is, you may be able to help me."
"Help you how?" Hermione asked, starting to write.
"Perhaps you could start by looking at me whilst I am talking to you," Snape commented – the girl was usually eager to do whatever she could to impress her professors, and it wasn't like her to be so rude. Clearly, she was spending far too much time with the Weasley boy.
The girl stopped writing momentarily, but didn't turn back around.