New Potion and the Enraged Noseless One (VI)

Severus Snape's black eyes flashed in the darkness. Then he turned and left. His black robes trailed across the floor without a sound, like a fish gliding through the deep sea, one that needed no breath and would never stop.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione were squeezed by some of the departing students into a corner near the entrance to Gryffindor Tower. Harry's back pressed against the wall, the chill of the stone seeping through his robes and into his skin, but he felt nothing.

His hand covered his forehead. The lightning-shaped scar was burning, so hot that his fingertips could feel the searing heat, as if he were pressing a finger against a burning candlewick. His face was pale, yet his eyes shone with startling brightness. He had just made an incredible connection.

"This is a trap," he said so quietly that only Ron and Hermione could hear him, though every word was clear. "Malfoy and the others... they used that mysterious heir. They deliberately provoked him into attacking, just to prove the potion worked. The mysterious heir became their best salesman."

Hermione was just as pale. Her gaze shifted from the students frantically scrambling to buy the potion to Harry's face, then to the hand pressed against his scar, and finally to the lightning-shaped mark burning on his forehead.

Her lips moved as if she wanted to say something, but nothing came out. She merely reached out, gently pulled Harry's hand away from his forehead, and held it in hers. His hand was as cold as a stone left on a windowsill all winter night.

"It isn't just that, Harry," Hermione said softly, so softly that it sounded like a secret meant only for herself. "The scarce potion has torn everyone apart. Look at them." She pointed at the