In an attempt to feel anything except the itching over her heart, she puts more sugar on her porridge. And more. Until there is a little mountain of crystals, glittering weakly in the candlelight. Still, she can barely taste them. Snape next to her is watching her, she can tell, but he does not address her. He rarely ever does. Hermione looks down over the students, bowed heads and quiet whispers, and wonders if she is losing her mind.