The Truth

Chapter 4 : What happened ?

"You don't always get, right awaqy, answers on all your questions."

Once again I stretched before I left my yesterday's place of lying down and went into the warmly lit living rooms of my host. The smell of herbs and especially coffee, flew towards me. As much as I would like to enjoy this smell, I desperately wanted to find out what had happened yesterday and more importantly, where HE was. On the way I wallowed in thoughts about our last conversation. He wanted to talk to me again about his Lord. A conversation, which I bypassed since our closer acquaintance. The lord and I were, according to my director, on different sides. He killed my parents and almost my friends. A circumstance which I could not or would not overlook. Even if I was not quite clear how he could do the latter, because I have never seen him personally in all these years. The only 'personal' contact I could attribute to him were probably the visions that plagued me since his return, especially at Hogwarts, strongly and almost regularly. These were, also according to Dumbledore, a consequence of the connection over the scar which was caused by the failed Avada Cedavra. To sum up, you could say that we talked about everything except what he seemed to want to tell me from the beginning. In the meantime I had arrived at the door that separated the kitchen from the rest. Slowly I raised my hand and knocked. My heart sped up a little when I thought that maybe he was in there. But as quickly as it had started to speed up, it stopped when my professor opened the door for me and I took my first look into the otherwise deserted kitchen. Disappointment spread through me. Why was he gone again? Why, when he must have known that I was injured? "Mr. Potter, you are well again, I see," Snape greeted me. More politely than usual. More politely than he would, could, in public. "Yes Professor. Thank you for your help yesterday," I returned. "You're always welcome, Potter," was the reply. The way he pronounced my last name made me stupefied, as it does every time. There was so much dislike in his voice. But I knew that this was not directed against me as a person. We had talked about this after my friend had seen us almost arguing. He said that he had something against James Potter. But already at that time I did not go further into it. I left it at that, because I was not sorry to put the now existing peace at risk. A few seconds of silence followed. After these, my professor took a step to the side and invited me into his kitchen. Silently I entered the same . The disappointment that it remained filled only with me and him gnawed at me. I did not understand why he could not stay. It made no sense. Nothing would have happened to him here in his friend's quarters. „-otter, Mr. Potter...", Snape pulled me out of my thoughts. "Y-yes, excuse me?", I finally responded. "I asked you if you'd rather have coffee or tea..." he repeated. "I'd rather have tea, thank you sir," I replied. Normally, I would go for the coffee. But since I had slept well and through tonight, the first time since the Christmas vacations, I didn't need it today to get me through the day, or make it a little more bearable. He nodded in agreement, as a, his, way of taking note. With a wave of his wand, two cups of tea were on the small square table in the room. My gaze was lowered to the floor. My head was still spasmodically working on the answer for his going. It just didn't make sense. "Is something bothering you?", I heard my host ask cautiously. Surprised that he asked at all, my eyes shot up. I looked at him. He seemed genuinely interested in my distress. "Well, there are two things I'd like to ask you," I said slowly. Not very loudly either, I was a little unsettled. He nodded and when I didn't respond immediately he said. "Go ahead..." "S-so first, where is he? H-he must have been here. I-I mean, I've got his clothes on and everything.... And I don't understand why he couldn't stay," I huffed. He seemed to be thinking about a reasonable answer. Then it looked like he had an answer. I felt excitement shoot through my veins instantly. "Mhh... So your partner couldn't stay because something more important came up. If you want to know more, you should talk to him yourself." THAT, was his answer?! THAT ?! The following thought that popped into my head was, in retrospect, probably extremely selfish. But it was a question that everyone would ask themselves when they are hurt and their friend has better things to do than to stay with them. What was more important than the own injured boyfriend...?! But with the thought came also self-doubt... Did I take myself too important. Was I actually just unimportant...? ? Were all the other people right...? "What else did you want to know?", my teacher aprubt changed the topic, and tore me so again from a thought carousel which seemed to turn since I was up always around the same topic.
Shortly I was confused, I had forgotten my other question for a few seconds. But suddenly the question came back to me. "I-I wanted to ask you what happened yesterday. I just remember that I was hurt and you came." "Ah... Well, you must have had an accident up in the clouds. I don't know the details, only that you lost control of your broom and fell." As he spoke, images suddenly began to fill my mind. And this time I saw with whom I had almost collided. Who was smiling when I fell instead of catching me or even trying to catch me. I felt the color leave my face. Why would he do that. Why would my BEST FRIEND be happy when I hurt myself...?