𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗯𝗼𝘆 𝘄𝗵𝗼 𝗹𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗱 | 𝗵𝗲𝗿𝗺𝗶𝗼𝗻𝗲 𝗴𝗿𝗮𝗻𝗴𝗲𝗿

Expose the Truth & Troubled Youth

CHAPTER TWELVE:

Third Person P.O.V.:

The holidays came and went in a blur, and the cheerfulness that spread throughout Grimmauld Place was now quickly evaporating. As the date of their departure back to Hogwarts drew nearer, Charlie became more and more prone to what Mrs. Weasley called 'fits of the sullens', in which he would become taciturn and miserable, often withdrawing to Buckbeak's room for hours at a time.

The truth was, for the first time in his entire life, Charlie was not looking forward to returning to Hogwarts. Going back to school would mean placing himself once again under the tyranny of Dolores Umbridge, who had no doubt managed to enforce another dozen decrees in their absence; there was no Quidditch to look forward to now that he had been banned, there was every likelihood that their burden of homework would increase as the exams drew even nearer; and his grandfather remained as remote as ever.

Then, on the very last day of the holidays, something happened that made Charlie positively dread his return to school.

"Hello, dears," called Mrs. Weasley poking her head into the boys' room, where Charlie and Ron were playing wizard's chess watched by Hermione, Ginny, Harry, and Crookshanks. "Harry, could you come down to the kitchen? Professor Snape would like a word with you."

Charlie did not immediately register what she had said; one of his castles was engaged in a violent tussle with a pawn of Ron's and he was egging it on enthusiastically.

"C'mon! Get him! Squash him! He's only a pawn, you idiot — sorry, Mrs. Weasley, what did you say?"

"Professor Snape, dear. In the kitchen. He'd like a word with Harry."

Charlie's mouth fell open in shock. He looked around at Harry at the same time that Ron, Hermione and Ginny all gaped towards him in fear. Crookshanks, whom Hermione had been restraining with difficulty for the past quarter of an hour, leapt gleefully on to the chess board and set the pieces running for cover, squealing at the top of their voices.

Harry furrowed his brows at Mrs. Weasley, "Snape?"

"Yes, Professor Snape, dear," nodded Mrs. Weasley reprovingly. "Come now, quickly, he says he can't stay long."

"What's he want with you?" asked Ron, looking unnerved as Mrs. Weasley withdrew from the room. "You haven't done anything, have you?"

"No," Harry said at once, shaking his head, "nothing that I'm aware of."

Charlie laughed loudly, "Well, when it comes to the greasy-haired git downstairs, the simplest of things could be worthy of consequence."

"Exactly," sniggered Harry, although his laugh was a bit nervous. He turned to his friends, "Come with me, will you? Maybe if we face him together, he'll be a bit less cross."

"That's highly unlikely," said Ginny, looking at the boy with glasses as though he had gone mad.

"Visiting over the holiday?" questioned Hermione, clearly aghast as she raked her mind for some sort of explanation. "Bit strange, isn't it? Even for Snape."

"On the contrary, ruining the holiday cheer sounds exactly like something Snape would do," joked Charlie; he rose to his feet and helped Hermione up as well. "Come on then, let's go see what he wants."

Ron sighed, walking to the door, "This better be good."

A minute or two later, the core four and Ginny pushed open the kitchen door to find Sirius and Snape both seated at the long kitchen table, glaring in opposite directions. The silence between them was heavy with mutual dislike.