Come Together

18. invisible touch - genesis

December 20, 1988

Almost two months had passed without speaking to Snape- at least, anything beyond cryptic head nods in class and the occasional instruction in class- and you were in hell. At first, it was a burning, red-hot, dramatically painful, classic, Satanic hell, but after eight long weeks, it was, at most, Death Valley, California-esque hell. Without sunblock on, and you were walking barefoot, and the sandy ground was replaced with Legos made of cement.

You weren't sure how to tell Diana that her George Michael tape was worn down without her making fun of you, so you just hid it under her mattress and hoped she would forget about it, and you had to cast a water repelling spell on Helena's collection of Pablo Neruda.

You could've been handling it a bit better. But, it wasn't all awful.

During your unspoken agreement with Snape to stay distant, you had more time to spend on schoolwork, with your friends, and to focus on your future, and, during that time, you realized, 'holy shit, you were so much more attached to Snape than you thought.'

You were seriously neglecting your relationships with your friends due to all the free time you had elected to spend with Snape. Of course, your best friends were also your dorm mates, so it wasn't like you only passed each other in the hallways, exchanging a wave and a greeting, but you could be a lot closer, as well. You started playing football again with them between the last class of the day and dinner, which your brain thanked you for, because that serotonin rush from the sheer force of platonic love you held for them was fantastic.

And then, there were your grades.

Snape helped you a lot, a lot, more than you realized. You had begun the term with a solid E in Charms, aka, the bane of your existence, and maintained it as you hung out with Snape (the infuriating fu-). Almost as soon as 'The Ignoring' began, your grade dropped to a P.

Though you had always been a good student, it was obvious that being friends with Snape had actually vastly improved your grades. You had always struggled with Charms, ever since you were eleven and started at Hogwarts, and you desperately wanted to drop the class, but it was required for any sort of degree in the Wizarding medical field.

Which, speaking of Wizarding medical study, acceptance or rejection results for most Wizarding universities would be released in spring, but since you applied over the summer, you would receive yours over the winter holidays. As in, within days, as it was late December.

You were almost sick with anxiety. No, not almost- you had to excuse yourself from conversations about university frequently, or you would feel your throat burn with acid and your stomach would rumble with nerves.

Being raised a muggle, you were always encouraged to begin thinking of a career and your future from a very young age, and that mentality of feeling like you had to always succeed carried into your life as a witch. You took as many OWLs, and then NEWTs, as you could. The pressure to have your shit together constantly made you feel claustrophobic.

That was why when you discovered that maybe, you didn't want potions to be your future, but your teacher instead, you, in your opinion, reasonably flipped out.

At first, you were relieved that you had come to this realization. You knew what you wanted to do, and you were privileged enough to have the means to do it. Including, but not limited to: parents that supported you and had careers that gave them the appropriate insight to help you, a good school that offered several classes that would propel you in the right path through connections and a head start on the content, and no obligations after Hogwarts that would restrict you from doing what you wanted to do.