cramped handwriting. She read it once, then again, wide-eyed.
Then she held it out for Harry to take.
He came around the desk slowly and plucked it out of her hand, then retreated to the distance of several feet before he opened it and read it. She watched as his eyes scanned the page, knowing what he was reading there:
Mr. Malfoy -
Consider me impressed that you have chosen to spend your summer holidays researching obscure potions and their counterspells. That said, I suggest you find some other potion to do your research project on. I recognize the potion in question from your description, although am baffled as to where you may have encountered a reference to it. It is a very old recipe and quite illegal; I have found reference to it in my own materials as being called the Imperious Potion, or alternatively the Omnia Vincit Charm — from the Latin for the expression that love conquers all.
As for reversals or counterspells there are none outside of the death or either the subject or the object of the induced affection. Ergo my advice that you find some other potion for your project. Contact me if you would like help with a list.
Cordially, Professor Severus Snape
Harry finished reading in silence, raised his head, and blinked.
'That's it, then,' he said in a colorless sort of voice.
In an uncharacteristically violent gesture, he crumpled the paper in his fist and threw it into the empty fireplace. Then he turned around. She could see the tension in his shoulders as he walked across the room and stopped at the bookcase — less as if he wanted to be there than as if he simply had lost interest in continuing his progress across the room.
He was standing underneath the stained-glass window, which threw a rich pattern of blue and green squares across his face and his white shirt. He looked up and looked at her and she could see the unhappiness in his face — Harry, who had always been such a naturally happy person.
It's my fault, she thought grimly.
Hermione got to her feet, although she didn't move towards Harry.
'That's not it,' she said, her own voice sounding thin to her ears.
'Harry, just because Snape says there isn't any way of taking it off, doesn't mean it's true. He's only saying what he knows, and he doesn't know everything. I'm sure there's a way. There has to be.'
'Not every problem has a solution, Hermione,' he said, his quiet tone undercutting the anger in his voice. 'I know that might be hard for you to believe.'
'I don't see why I should believe it. I don't see any point in just giving up.'
But Harry didn't seem to be listening. He was staring at a vague point above her head. 'I miss you,' he said, apropos of nothing. 'I already miss you and it's only been a few hours. I keep thinking, how much am I going to miss you tomorrow, and the day after that and the day after that? Because I don't think it's going to get any better. I think there are some things that just don't get any better and that this is one of them.'
'Harry-' she began, starting towards him.
He held out a hand to ward her off. 'Don't make it worse than it is.'
'At least let me explain,' she said, so quickly that the words nearly tumbled over themselves. 'Let me explain and apologize and that's the last thing I'll ask you for, I swear.'
'I don't want an apology. I want to know.'
'Whatever you want to know, I'll tell you,' she said, and meant it.
'Why did you bother pretending?' he nearly shouted. 'When I saw you — outside the tower — that first time why did you pretend you were happy to see me? Why bother? What was the point? I can understand you not telling me the truth about the potion. But why the performance? I kissed you and that wasn't just me kissing you.
You kissed me back. I couldn't even tell — ' He broke off, and looked away again. 'I couldn't even tell any difference.'
Hermione gazed at him in astonishment. Of course, she thought, he doesn't know -
'You think the potion means I don't love you any more?' she said.
He didn't answer, just continued to look away from her.
'Harry, that's the last thing it means. My feelings about you haven't changed at all, and if I didn't love you so much I wouldn't have lied to you — I know that sounds stupid but it's true. I couldn't stand the thought of hurting you-'
She broke off, knowing how she sounded — the right words seemed to be escaping her, as so many things had escaped her lately. She knew it was the effect of the potion- that it hadn't just given her feelings she didn't want, but was draining away from her the very qualities that would allow her to fight those feelings — will, clarity, strength of purpose. It was gradual, but it was happening; she could feel it.
'I'm not lying,' she whispered, but Harry's expression didn't change, and she thought, despairingly: He'll never believe anything I tell him, not now, not after this, and why should he?
'Harry, come here,' she said.
At last, he looked up, and when she saw the expression on his face, she nearly wished he hadn't.
'Come here,' she said, again. 'Please.'
Moving reluctantly, he crossed the room and stood in front of her, looking defiant. His chin was set, his green eyes unreadable. She reached out and took hold of his right wrist and drew his hand towards her, placing it on her chest just over her heart. 'I need you to believe me,' she said. 'Do what you have to.'
For a moment, he looked uncomprehending. Then understanding flashed across his face and his eyes
