An early update, APoE, Chapter 9
Beware, I have not given this a final once-over yet.
Ever Swiftly Moving
It was six o’clock in the morning, and Severus could not fall back asleep. He’d spent the last fifteen minutes staring up at the ceiling of his four-post bed, attempting to clear his mind so that it would be easier for him to drift back into slumber. Unfortunately, it wasn’t working. Grunting with discontent, he rolled onto his side, threw back the covers, and poked his head out from between the velvety curtains.
It looked as though everyone else was still asleep; the curtains around the other beds were still drawn, and the candelabra on the walls were out. Taking solace in the fact that he might be able to enjoy some quiet time in the Common Room, Severus decided to get up. He crawled out of bed quietly and went directly to his trunk, grabbing his robes and thrusting his free arm through the sleeve. He was halfway dressed when he heard something shuffling behind him.
There was a figure emerging from Rosier’s bed curtains, but it wasn’t Rosier. Severus blinked at it in groggy astonishment.
Florence, wearing nothing but Rosier’s Quidditch jersey, had obviously spent the night in the boys’ dormitory. She was unaware of Severus’s presence, gasping audibly as her bare feet hit the floor. Her hair was a mass of wild, unmanageable curls, and Severus almost felt embarrassed about staring at the rather indecent amount of leg she was showing. She rubbed her knuckles in her eyes and tottered on the icy floor.
He decided to edge out of sight when Florence opened her eyes and blinked at her surroundings blearily. Too distracted by the situation to pay attention to where he was going, he crashed into his trunk and sent it scraping across the floor. Hissing air between his teeth, he cursed silently and winced, barely daring to steal a glance at Florence.
She was gaping at him with her hands clapped firmly over her mouth.
He supposed she was silencing what would have been a very loud scream. “I assure you that you’re no less frightening at this hour,” he said hoarsely, and cinched his robes more tightly about him.
Florence’s hands slid down from her mouth until her fingers were steepled under her chin. “Snape,” she exclaimed breathily. “Sweet Circe, I wasn’t expecting to see anyone.” The fact that she was wearing next to nothing appeared to have suddenly dawned on her, because she shrank back towards Rosier’s bed, tugging at the bottom of the jersey in a feeble attempt to cover her legs. “I…er…” she blundered, “that is, we…”
Severus shook his head. “I don’t want to know.” He stared at a spot on the floor between them, not daring to watch her struggle to keep herself decent.
“I should go,” she whispered, poking her head back through Rosier’s curtains and snatching her belongings hastily. She pulled them tightly to her chest, but the way she’d positioned everything was clumsy, and a shoe tumbled onto the ground. Severus stared down at it, and there was an awkward pause.
“Would you mind?” Florence whispered, just as Severus murmured, “I’ll get it.” It was plain to see that Florence did not want to bend over and grab her shoe; Severus would get a full view of her knickers. Though Severus wouldn’t have minded seeing a girl’s knickers, it was Florence. He picked up her shoe and balanced it on top of everything else. Florence gave him a grateful, if not slightly embarrassed, smile before securing it in place with her chin. “Thank you,” she mouthed silently, turning to leave.
Severus grunted, returning to his trunk to pick up his Advanced Potions Book. When he turned around, she was gone.
He didn’t see her for the rest of the morning, either. In fact, it had been a good idea to work in the common room so early; he’d managed to go two full hours without a single interruption. In that time span, he was able to conjugate the Latin for two new spells. At least, he hoped he’d done it correctly. He was planning on testing them out later.
“Severus?” a voice piped up from behind him.
Severs shut his book and glanced over his shoulder. Regulus, already dressed smartly in his school robes, flashed him a quick smile. “’Lo,” Regulus greeted brightly. “Have you been up long?”
“Not long,” Severus replied, forcing images of Florence out of his mind. He was not looking forward to encountering her in Potions later.
“Have you gone for breakfast yet?” asked Regulus, raising his brows hopefully.
Severus paused. “No,” he answered. His stomach was rumbling hungrily. “Let me gather my things, and I’ll meet you in the Great Hall.” He eased himself off of the couch and started towards the dormitories.
“Great,” Regulus called after him, “I’ll save you a seat.”
Severus wasn’t surprised when he walked in on Rosier humming contentedly. Severus paused in the doorway, leaning a bony shoulder against the frame and watching Rosier in mild amusement. Evan had an unmistakeable smirk on his face as he rummaged through his trunk.
“Good night?” Severus asked.
Rosier spun around brusquely, but once he realized it was Snape talking, his face broke into a large grin. “Excellent night,” he affirmed.
“I’m sure,” replied Severus, walking into the room and moving to grab his shoulder bag.
Rosier shrugged on his robes and adjusted the collar. “I slept well, is all.”
Severus pressed his lips together. “Please,” he said flatly, “spare me the details.”
“Of course,” Rosier replied with a chuckle. “Did you see Flo this morning, then?” He seemed completely unruffled by the thought, and waggled his eyebrows. “At least I can be sure that you won’t be picturing her with her arse in the air every time I mention her name.”
Severus choked, falling into a spasm of coughing. If he ever pictured that, he’d Obliviate himself.
“Lestrange would, you know,” Rosier continued. “He’s always perving over the girls here.”
“Narcissa, you mean?” Severus croaked out, catching his breath.
Rosier grabbed his books and tucked them under an arm. “Well, yes,” he mused thoughtfully. “But that’s almost expected.”
“Isn’t she your cousin?”
Rosier snorted loudly. “As if that’s ever stopped anyone.”
Severus was privately disgusted by this, and nearly-nearly-felt thankful that he was a Half-blood. “It would stop me.”
“Really?” Rosier appeared entirely unconvinced. “So if you could have a go with Narcissa you’d refuse?”
“I wasn’t talking about that,” Severus answered sharply.
“So you would have a go with her?” Rosier teased.
“That’s not what I said!” Severus exclaimed irritably.
Rosier shrugged. “You could use a good shag,” he announced. Severus glared at him. “What?” he continued. “Don’t bother denying it. It’d loosen you up a bit, I’d wager. In fact, I think I probably have wagered on it.”
Severus rubbed at his forehead with his free hand. Rosier was in one of his moods, and it would only get worse as time progressed. “I’m going to breakfast.”
“I’ll be down in a bit,” answered Rosier. “I promised Flo I’d meet her.” He snorted and combed his fingers through his hair. “You know. Obligatory conversation.”
“You’re so thoughtful,” Severus replied sardonically. “She’s a lucky girl.”
Rosier waved his wand at his bed curtains, and they shut with a snap. “If she didn’t know that before, she does now.”
Severus made a disgusted noise in the back of his throat and excused himself hastily before he lost his appetite completely.
* * *
“Did you get tied up?” Regulus asked, passing over a plate of steaming sausages.
“You don’t even want to know,” Snape answered, forking a plump sausage and adding it to his plate.
Regulus lifted his eyebrows and took a bite of toast, smiling to himself. The Slytherin table was slowly filling up. A group of sleepy, yawning girls sat a little further down the table. To Severus’s surprise, Barty Crouch joined them, plopping down on the bench and sneaking Severus a sage smile.
Severus lifted an eyebrow.
Regulus subtly indicated Barty with his fork. “He’s trying to get friendly with the dark-haired one. I forget her name. Davis, maybe,” he said. “He teaches them all swear words in different languages, so they think he’s quite a novelty.”
“Does he?”
“Yeah,” Regulus said, taking a sip of juice. He swallowed and then added, “You know how his father knows hundreds of languages? Well, Barty doesn’t have a bad ear for them himself, though he usually only bothers with the dirty words.”
Shaking his head, Severus turned back to his plate. “How are your classes going?”
“All right,” Regulus said, pulling a face. “We’ve got loads of work already. I’ve got a humongous translation assignment in Ancient Runes.”
“It only gets worse,” Severus mused cynically.
“Wonderful,” Regulus sighed. “And how are your classes going? Slughorn was raving about you the other day.”
“Oh?”
Nodding, Regulus wiped his mouth with a cloth napkin. “T’wasn’t surprising, of course.”
Severus felt strangely humbled, and, on impulse, decided to share the news of Slughorn’s newest assignment with Regulus. “I’m brewing Veritaserum for him.”
Regulus’s blue eyes widened. “You don’t say?” he said in wonder. “Bloody hell, that’s top-notch stuff, right there.”
“It is,” Severus agreed. “Unfortunately, he hasn’t mentioned whether or not we will be able to test our final product.” He’d wanted to approach the subject with the Professor, but knew that his timing would mean everything. He didn’t want Professor Slughorn to suspect that he was up to anything.
“Don’t tell him,” suggested Regulus. “What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him. I doubt he’ll care too much, anyway.” He grinned slyly. “As long as you don’t get in trouble.”
Severus smiled tightly. “Yes,” he agreed, “I suppose you’re right.” He took another bite of sausage and stole a glance at Regulus, who was making faces at Barty. The boy was a little immature and naïve, but the more Severus talked to him, the more he redeemed himself for being a direct relative of Sirius Black.
* * *
It turned out that Severus wasn’t even to attend class in the Potions room anymore. When he arrived, Slughorn directed him into an adjacent room.
“I thought it would be best for you two to work undisturbed,” Slughorn said. “You never know when someone is going to blow something up and make a large mess.” He large forehead wrinkled as he fiddled with the end of his moustache. “You also will be able to access it at night. Ms. Evans is already there; I’ve given her the necessary instructions. She’ll relay the information, of course.”
‘I hope so,’ Severus thought jadedly. He was a more than a little put out that he’d missed the instructions, but gave Slughorn with a brief nod. “Thank you, sir,” he said, turning away from Slughorn’s desk.
“Best of luck!” Slughorn replied cheerfully. “I’ll be over in a little while to check up on things.”
Severus nodded, giving the classroom a fleeting look as he made the way to the door. He caught Lestrange’s eye and bobbed his head in acknowledgement.
“Snape!” Lestrange waved him over. “Where are you going?”
“Special assignment,” Severus replied quietly. He noticed Florence, who’d ducked down behind Lestrange. She bowed her head and began to scribble across a piece of parchment lying on the table. Severus had the feeling she was trying to go unnoticed. That was fine with him.
“Oh yeah?” Lestrange frowned. “What do you get to do?”
“Work with Evans on an excruciatingly boring potion,” he said cautiously.
“Evans?” Lestrange repeated, looking incredulous. “Because you both did so well with the Draught of Living Death?”
“That seems likely.”
Lestrange hooked his index finger into the collar of his robes and pulled the material away from his neck, looking dismayed. “Bollocks.” His dark eyes glistened in the dim light of the room. “S’pose Professor Slughorn thinks you’re really special then, eh?” Lestrange asked. “Sticking you in a room with his favourite Mudblood.” The corner of his eye twitched. “Bet you can write home to your mum and dad about that one.”
“I’m spending every class period alone with a Mudblood for an entire lunar cycle,” Severus replied testily. “I hardly think that’s anything to be jealous of.”
“I’m not jealous!” snapped Lestrange.
“Right,” Severus muttered. “I’d hope not.”
“Well.” Lestrange’s face softened. He was obviously trying not to seem jealous. “If she acts like a bitch, you can curse her and no one will know.”
Severus nodded curtly. “I’ll keep that in mind.” He glanced over his shoulder at Slughorn, who was surveying him curiously. “I’ve got to go.”
“Have fun,” Lestrange replied, and a nasty little smile had returned to his face.
Severus grunted and left the Potions room. The door to the classroom across the hall was shut, so he grabbed the doorknob and tentatively pushed it open.
Lily was sitting down in a chair, poring over a leather-bound book. She was dressed in her robes and a protective apron, and her long hair was pulled up into a makeshift bun, although a few rogue strands framed her face. She looked up at the sound of the door creaking open. “Hi.”
“Hi.” He glanced around uncomfortably. There was a large cauldron with bubbling contents on one end of the long oak tale in the centre of the room. Aside from that, the furnishings included a tall shelf full of dusty, bottled ingredients, four rickety chairs, and a large basin sink. He placed his bag in a nearby chair and approached the table to inspect the brewing Veritaserum. It was pea-green in colour, and looked to be the consistency of heavy cream.
“It’s sort of strange being separated from the rest of the class, isn’t it?” Evans asked, joining him. She frowned as she scrutinized the brew.
“It is,” he agreed, watching the surface of the potion bubble. “But there will be fewer distractions.”
She nodded. “Professor Slughorn completed the first three steps,” she told him, gesturing to the book in her hands. “When the potion starts to give off a yellow vapour, we need to add thirteen quartered henbane seeds.”
“And until then?” he asked.
“I think we should go over the lunar calendar and make some sort of schedule,” she replied. “We can arrange times to meet here.” She quirked her mouth to the side in uncertainty. “Unless you just want to take turns.”
“No,” he said quickly. No matter how good of a Potions student Evans was, Severus had no intention of letting anything happen to the potion that he couldn’t personally oversee, or better yet, do on his own.
“I thought you might say that,” she said with a smile. She moved over to an empty spot on the table and opened the book, placing it on the table. She’d marked the page with her quill and a scrap piece of parchment. “We have to transfer the Potion into a silver cauldron at midnight when the waxing crescent moon is at twenty-five percent. Which,” she picked up the quill and tapped it against her chin thoughtfully, “happens to be next Saturday.” She blinked up at him. “Are you free?”
He furrowed his brows. “Yes. Did you think I’d have something else planned?”
She snorted softly, carefully writing out the time and date of their next get-together. “Oh, I don’t know,” she murmured absently. “Perhaps you had some pressing business. Midnight duels, something like that.”
“Are you trying to be insulting?”
Lily’s mouth twitched. “No.” She folded the piece of paper and held it out for him. He accepted it, somewhat grudgingly. “But don’t act like you’ve never had a midnight duel.”
Severus lifted an eyebrow and gave her a look. He had, in fact, been involved in two midnight duels during his time at Hogwarts. One was against James Potter, during his second year at Hogwarts. Their mutual dislike for each other was widely known, and one day during an exchange of curses, James had challenged Severus to meet him in a large storage room at midnight. The entire affair was more of a spectacle than anything, and neither of them had come out of it any better than the other. James refused to let Sirius help, abiding by the ancient duelling regulations. The second duel happened during his third year, against a seventh year Slytherin named Alecto, who was Julius Carrow’s cousin. It was common practice for the older Slytherins to duel the younger students in order to estimate their worth. Unlike Potter, Alecto did not bother with recognizing duelling regulations. His troll of a sister, Amycus, joined him, and Severus ended up spending two nights in the hospital wing. Amycus and Alecto, however, spent three nights in the infirmary, both suffering from strange maladies that Madam Pince had difficulty diagnosing.
If anything, that particular duel ended up sparking much more interest in Severus’s capabilities, and the other Slytherins finally began to invite him to their various activities.
Lily was looking at him expectantly, and he shook his thoughts away. “I haven’t been a participant in a proper duel for some time now.”
“Since second year?” Lily guessed. “Against Potter?”
Severus frowned. “How did you know about that?”
“I was there.”
He didn’t remember that, and must have looked dumbfounded, because Lily laughed at him. “I was,” she said, tucking her hair behind her ears. “I think nearly every Gryffindor and Slytherin second year was there. It’s a wonder Filch didn’t catch us all and hang us up by our thumbs.”
“Really.” He had no idea what to say, and stared blankly at the back of her head as she turned away.
“Yes, really,” Lily said somewhat roughly. She’d walked over to the bookshelves and was on the tips of her toes, stretching for a jar of what Severus assumed to be henbane seeds.
“You are a witch, you know,” he said rather pointedly. “Summon it down.”
She looked over her shoulder and narrowed her eyes. “Possessing magical abilities is not an excuse for laziness.”
“Did Professor McGonagall tell you that?” Snape wondered.
Lily stretched up a little further and wrapped her fingers around the jar, pulling it down to her chest. “Yes,” she breathed, “and I think she’s got a point.”
“Of course you do,” he muttered. “Here.” Reaching out his hand, he gestured to the jar. “I’ll begin cutting the seeds.”
Lily placed the jar in his hands and moved to the cauldron. She checked the colouring and then turned to watch him as he diced the seeds into perfect quarters.
“I didn’t mean to offend you,” she said after a moment. “About the duelling.”
He glanced up at her for a moment. “I’m not offended,” he said, dismissing her apology and turning back to quartering the fourth seed.
“I tried duelling once, after that,” he heard her say. Surprised by her revelation, he stopped mid-slice and turned to her in curiosity.
“You did?” Perhaps he’d heard her wrong.
“Mmhm,” she replied. “With Patrice.” She crinkled her nose at the memory.
“Aren’t you friends?” Severus asked.
Her cheek dimpled as she grinned. “Yes, we’ve been friends since first year.”
“But you duelled?” he inquired dubiously.
“It wasn’t malicious,” she replied. “After we saw your duel with Potter, we decided to try it ourselves.”
“With what?” he couldn’t help but scoff. “Cheering charms, was it?”
“Ha ha,” she said flatly. “I’ll have you know that we actually used jinxes. Patrice knows a nasty tongue-twisting curse.” Severus wasn’t exactly impressed with tongue-twisting curses, and Lily must have sensed that, because she flushed brightly.
“Fascinating,” he said, smirking to himself.
“You don’t have to be so condescending, you know,” she replied pointedly. “I’m not trying to impress you; I’m simply telling a story.”
He blinked at her in bemusement before turning back to his seeds. Although he found Lily’s admission amusing in a pathetic sort of way, he didn’t intentionally want to make her feel foolish. He decided to appease her, if only minimally. “It’s good to practice, I suppose.”
“S’all right,” she said, “You haven’t hurt my feelings. I prepared myself for this.”
He jerked his head up sharply, trying to see if she was simply teasing. Unfortunately, she wasn’t looking at him so he couldn’t be sure. Instead, she was peering down over the edge of the cauldron. “Look!” she said, “It’s started to emit the vapour.” Her eyes seemed to shine an even brighter green when she was excited, he noticed.
His wonderment at whether or not she’d just affronted him quickly vanished. “I’ve finished the seeds.” He placed his knife on the table.
“Shall we add them, then?”
Severus nodded, grabbing the cutting board and bringing it over to the cauldron. “Get the tweezers,” he ordered.
If Lily was irritated by his orders, she didn’t show it, and obediently grabbed a pair of needle-tipped tweezers. He held out the cutting board, and she plucked the quartered seeds off of it one by one, adding the specified amount.
To their amazement, the vapour that was pouring out of the cauldron suddenly moved in a counter-clockwise circle and turned from yellow to white. The room slowly filled with an antiseptic type smell. The potion turned from a pea-green colour to an ivory, shimmering liquid.
“The directions said it would do that,” said Lily approvingly, glancing down at a small timepiece on her wrist. “We have to wait thirty minutes and then stir it counter-clockwise seven times.”
“It isn’t exactly hard, is it?” Severus replied. Honestly, the entire process had been rather boring. If he had the proper materials, he could do it on his own.
“Perhaps it seems that way now,” Lily said, “but transferring it is going to be terribly difficult.”
Severus considered this, but didn’t say anything one way or the other. He wouldn’t judge the complexity of the potion until after he’d mastered it. He watched the potion critically for several minutes before turning back to retrieve his Advanced Potions book out of his shoulder bag. If he had to sit there for thirty minutes, he figured he’d make use of the time. Settling into one of the sturdier looking chairs, he opened his book to examine his Latin conjugations.
Lily also sat down, busying herself with writing something on a roll of parchment. Every so often she would pause to reread what she had written. It didn’t look like it was any sort of schoolwork, so Severus assumed she was writing a letter.
Twenty minutes went by in silence, and after scratching down the word “Muffliato” in an available blank area on the page, Severus felt a pair of eyes on him. His gaze flickered over to where Lily was sitting.
She’d been watching him, and looked away upon meeting his gaze, wincing in embarrassment. “Sorry,” she apologized quietly. “You looked so intense. I was wondering what you were writing.”
He shook his head dismissively. “I’m just working on a few spells.”
She arched her brows inquiringly. “Without wand movement?”
He exhaled out of his nose. “You misunderstood what I said. I’m developing spells.”
Lily scooted forward in her chair, placing her elbows on her knees and her chin in her hands. “You develop spells?”
Severus pressed his lips together, uncertain as to how much information he should share. “I experiment.”
“You do this a lot?” It wasn’t so much a question as a statement.
“Yes.”
“Do they work?” she asked inquisitively.
For whatever reason, he decided to give her an example. He’d never outwardly taken credit for a spell before. “Perhaps you remember the popularity of swinging someone upside down in the air?” he said, lowering his voice cautiously.
Lily’s jaw dropped. “You invented a nonverbal spell?” Her facial expression changed from a look of awe to a look of near-reverence. “That’s complicated work, and really impressive.”
Severus looked down at his book, unsure of what to say. Surely Lily would mention the irony in his own spell being used against him. In fact, he was already preparing a suitable retort when she asked, “What are you working on now?”
He found it hard to believe that she didn’t bring up the quirk of fate involving his own spell. Then again, she did know first hand how sensitive he was about the incident. His defensive stance softened a little. “A spell for Professor Kennicot’s assignment. If my deductions are correct, it should let you pass along information without being heard by others in the surrounding area.”
“Wow.” Lily looked impressed. “And you do this a lot?” she asked. “Make spells, I mean.”
“It’s a hobby,” he deadpanned.
“And to think, most students assume you spend your free time perfecting Unforgivable curses,” she teased.
Severus grew uncomfortably silent. Luckily, Lily didn’t have time to notice the awkward lull in conversation, as Professor Slughorn entered the room, sniffing loudly. His moustache jiggled under his nose.
“Wonderful,” he said, rubbing his hands together as he approached the simmering cauldron. “I smell success, oh yes, indeed.”
Lily got up, placing her belongings on her chair. The hem of her robes nearly dusted the floor as she trailed behind Professor Slughorn, and she glanced over her shoulder and shook her head, grinning at Severus.
Severus gave her a small smile, understanding exactly what she meant.
* * *
The Common Room was bustling with excitement. A small horde of third years was crowded around the message board, chattering excitedly and pointing at a scrap of parchment.
It meant one thing, Severus noted dryly; a Hogsmeade weekend was quickly approaching.
Not feeling particularly up to elbowing his way through the throng of students, he adjusted his bag’s strap and decided to drop his belongings off in his trunk before Herbology. He hadn’t gotten far when a petite figure came out of the corridor leading to the girl’s dormitory and nearly collided with him.
“Oh, dear. I’m sorry.” Narcissa put up her palms and smiled. “I didn’t see you there.”
“It's fine,” Severus replied. “The younger students are in a frenzy.”
Narcissa pursed her lips, giving the younger students a sidelong glance. “Yes,” she agreed with a sigh. “They’ve put up the Hogsmeade weekend notice. It’s next Saturday.”
“I figured that was it.” He folded his arms across his chest uneasily, suddenly all to aware of Narcissa’s pretty smile, the way her hair shined like in the eerie glow of the lake water, and the way he couldn’t bring himself to look directly into her eyes. Good God, he was turning into Lestrange. It was ridiculous.
“Are you going?” she asked. “Bellatrix sent an owl that she and Rodolphus would be at the Three Broomsticks.”
“Will they?”
She nodded. “Yes, they’re supposed to be there around one o’clock, in one of the private rooms in the back. I can’t even begin to explain how relieved I am that she didn’t want to meet in the Hog’s Head--you know Bella. That place is filthy.”
Severus agreed, though he did find the pub interesting. The Hog’s Head had a reputation for drawing an unusual, Machiavellian-type crowd. “Are there others going to be there?” he asked slowly, thinking of Bellatrix and Rodolphus’s engagement party.
“I don’t think so,” replied Narcissa. “But that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t stop by and say hello.” She absently fingered a lock of hair, tilting her head up and giving him an appealing look. “Of course, if you’re running around with Rabastan, you’ll probably bump into them, anyhow.”
“It’s a possibility.” He swallowed, suddenly feeling heat rushing up from his collar.
Her lips curled up into a coy smile. “Oh, good,” she said, “I was worried you might start slipping away from our social circle.”
Severus lifted an eyebrow, wondering how to respond. Fortunately, he didn’t have to, because she tittered softly. “Don’t look like that. It’s quite apparent that you don’t like to be a part of a crowd.” Her words reminded him of Lucius’s comment at the engagement party; he might have been a bit offended had she not taken that moment to lay her hand on his forearm, continuing, “But that’s the lovely thing about being part of our group, Severus. Everyone understands the need for independence, but we all have services to offer when a situation arises.”
Her blue eyes shimmered under her long, dark lashes. Severus looked into them for a moment, trying to discern the meaning behind her words, but his attempt was cut short when her gaze flickered to something beyond him. She broke out into a broad smile. “Oh!” she called out, “Hope!” She glanced back up at Severus and squeezed his arm. “Excuse me,” she said hastily, “but I’ve been waiting to speak with Hope all day.” She lifted her hand and manoeuvred around him gracefully, stepping aside and adding, “I hope we’ll see you at the Three Broomsticks!” before rushing away and linking arms with Hope.
“I’ll see you around,” he replied gruffly. To be perfectly honest, he wasn’t sure if she even heard him. She and Hope were chattering excitedly about something. It didn’t matter, anyway, he decided. There was something about Narcissa that put him on edge.
“Have a nice chat?” someone asked from beside him.
Severus spun around and found himself face to face with Rabastan. “It wasn’t much of a chat,” he greeted blandly. “She was telling me about Hogsmeade.”
“Ah,” Rabastan said. “Yeah, it’s about time. I could use a trip to Zonko’s.” Severus would never have guessed it for all of Rabastan’s gruffness and belligerence, but Rabastan had the largest sweet tooth of anyone he’d ever met. It was a wonder he still had all of his teeth.
“I wouldn’t mind stopping at the Apothecary there,” Severus replied. “I’m running low on a few things.”
“Oh?” Rabastan replied. “And how did your potion go with Evans, then?”
“The potion is fine,” Severus replied. “The rest of it was rather dull. I worked on Professor Kennicot’s assignment.” Rabastan nodded, and Severus didn’t think he was on the warpath any longer, so he asked, “How did you fair in Potions?”
Rabastan placed the palm of his hand on the crown of his head and massaged it slowly. “Ugh,” he grunted. “No one managed to make the confusing concoction, and Professor Slughorn decided to wind us up about how someone must have slipped us some in our juice this morning.”
Severus frowned. Often, Professor Slughorn’s attempts at humour ended up being riddled with unintentional disdain, so he sympathized with Lestrange, barely. “At least no one managed it.”
“Potter came close,” replied Rabastan. “Professor Slughorn awarded him ten house points for his attempt.” He curled his lip in contempt. “I think it’s because Evans wasn’t there and he couldn’t moon over her for the entire class period.”
Severus snorted. “I doubt you’re far off the mark.”
Rabastan nodded, then shook his head quickly. “Oh,” he said, “I forgot to tell you, an owl arrived for you today, mangy thing. Julius accepted the letter and left it on your trunk.”
That was unexpected news, and Severus hastily excused himself from Rabastan and made his way to the sixth-year dormitory. No one else was present, so he whisked over to his trunk, threw off his bag, and snatched up the letter. He waved his wand at his bed curtains and they rushed open with a snap, leaving him plenty of room to sit down on the side of his bed. The mattress groaned quietly beneath him.
The letter was, oddly enough, from his mother. Another quick spell had the envelope unsealed, and he pulled out a piece of white, plain stationary, recognizing his mother’s neat handwriting.
Severus, he read.
I haven’t heard from you since you left for Hogwarts, and I assume this means you’re doing well. Your father is fine, and I’m sure you will hardly be surprised to hear that little has changed since you left.
The truth is, I would not hasten to write you were it not for the fact that I am travelling to London next week. I have some business to take care of--business that is long overdue--and I decided I would make a quick trip to Diagon Alley as long as I am there. It has been ages since I’ve visited, as I’m sure you realize. I thought I would write to see if you needed anything. Do reply as soon as possible if this is the case. Even if this isn’t the case, I wouldn’t mind hearing how you’re doing in school.
Your father sends his regards. I hope you’re taking care of yourself, Severus. Keep our last conversation in mind.
All My Love.
Severus reread the letter several times, trying to figure out exactly what it meant. Of course, he understood that his mother was expecting a small list of supplies that she could purchase for him, but there was something else in what went unsaid that nagged him. It was something in the nature of the business she was attending to. Her choice of words was very vague, and the way his mother mentioned it-so blasé in passing-was suspicious.
Still, he assumed that his mother would tell him if it was an urgent matter, especially if it involved him. They were not the best communicators, surely, but they did have a mutual respect that surpassed normal family niceties and allowed them to establish trust in one another. The only exception to that was when his mother mentioned his father sending regards. Severus highly doubted that Tobias would do such a thing. However, he understood why his mother would write so.
He thought idly about Diagon Alley and items from its various shops that he might find useful. In the end, he decided to ask for a new pair of dragon-hide gloves and a set of quills, because Hogsmeade charged an arm and a leg for them, knowing that students were hard-pressed to find a closer store. He scrawled his request out in a short letter, letting his mother know that he didn’t need anything else because he had a Hogsmeade trip in the near future. He wasn’t sure what to say about his classes, and in the end simply told her that he was doing well and that Professor Slughorn had selected him to do a special project. He also mentioned seeing her at Christmas, which came out as a surprise, since he hadn’t decided to return to Spinner’s End until that moment. Oddly enough, he felt like he had to return in order to see her.
Scribbling his name across the bottom of the parchment, he folded it up and searched his trunk for a stray envelope. Once he found one, he sealed his letter inside and rustled through his trunk for his Herbology book. Tucking both items inside his shoulder bag, he started off for class, meaning to make a quick detour to the Owlry before heading out to the greenhouses.
Hopefully, the professor would busy them with mindless work and he’d have time to think.
Ever Swiftly Moving
It was six o’clock in the morning, and Severus could not fall back asleep. He’d spent the last fifteen minutes staring up at the ceiling of his four-post bed, attempting to clear his mind so that it would be easier for him to drift back into slumber. Unfortunately, it wasn’t working. Grunting with discontent, he rolled onto his side, threw back the covers, and poked his head out from between the velvety curtains.
It looked as though everyone else was still asleep; the curtains around the other beds were still drawn, and the candelabra on the walls were out. Taking solace in the fact that he might be able to enjoy some quiet time in the Common Room, Severus decided to get up. He crawled out of bed quietly and went directly to his trunk, grabbing his robes and thrusting his free arm through the sleeve. He was halfway dressed when he heard something shuffling behind him.
There was a figure emerging from Rosier’s bed curtains, but it wasn’t Rosier. Severus blinked at it in groggy astonishment.
Florence, wearing nothing but Rosier’s Quidditch jersey, had obviously spent the night in the boys’ dormitory. She was unaware of Severus’s presence, gasping audibly as her bare feet hit the floor. Her hair was a mass of wild, unmanageable curls, and Severus almost felt embarrassed about staring at the rather indecent amount of leg she was showing. She rubbed her knuckles in her eyes and tottered on the icy floor.
He decided to edge out of sight when Florence opened her eyes and blinked at her surroundings blearily. Too distracted by the situation to pay attention to where he was going, he crashed into his trunk and sent it scraping across the floor. Hissing air between his teeth, he cursed silently and winced, barely daring to steal a glance at Florence.
She was gaping at him with her hands clapped firmly over her mouth.
He supposed she was silencing what would have been a very loud scream. “I assure you that you’re no less frightening at this hour,” he said hoarsely, and cinched his robes more tightly about him.
Florence’s hands slid down from her mouth until her fingers were steepled under her chin. “Snape,” she exclaimed breathily. “Sweet Circe, I wasn’t expecting to see anyone.” The fact that she was wearing next to nothing appeared to have suddenly dawned on her, because she shrank back towards Rosier’s bed, tugging at the bottom of the jersey in a feeble attempt to cover her legs. “I…er…” she blundered, “that is, we…”
Severus shook his head. “I don’t want to know.” He stared at a spot on the floor between them, not daring to watch her struggle to keep herself decent.
“I should go,” she whispered, poking her head back through Rosier’s curtains and snatching her belongings hastily. She pulled them tightly to her chest, but the way she’d positioned everything was clumsy, and a shoe tumbled onto the ground. Severus stared down at it, and there was an awkward pause.
“Would you mind?” Florence whispered, just as Severus murmured, “I’ll get it.” It was plain to see that Florence did not want to bend over and grab her shoe; Severus would get a full view of her knickers. Though Severus wouldn’t have minded seeing a girl’s knickers, it was Florence. He picked up her shoe and balanced it on top of everything else. Florence gave him a grateful, if not slightly embarrassed, smile before securing it in place with her chin. “Thank you,” she mouthed silently, turning to leave.
Severus grunted, returning to his trunk to pick up his Advanced Potions Book. When he turned around, she was gone.
He didn’t see her for the rest of the morning, either. In fact, it had been a good idea to work in the common room so early; he’d managed to go two full hours without a single interruption. In that time span, he was able to conjugate the Latin for two new spells. At least, he hoped he’d done it correctly. He was planning on testing them out later.
“Severus?” a voice piped up from behind him.
Severs shut his book and glanced over his shoulder. Regulus, already dressed smartly in his school robes, flashed him a quick smile. “’Lo,” Regulus greeted brightly. “Have you been up long?”
“Not long,” Severus replied, forcing images of Florence out of his mind. He was not looking forward to encountering her in Potions later.
“Have you gone for breakfast yet?” asked Regulus, raising his brows hopefully.
Severus paused. “No,” he answered. His stomach was rumbling hungrily. “Let me gather my things, and I’ll meet you in the Great Hall.” He eased himself off of the couch and started towards the dormitories.
“Great,” Regulus called after him, “I’ll save you a seat.”
Severus wasn’t surprised when he walked in on Rosier humming contentedly. Severus paused in the doorway, leaning a bony shoulder against the frame and watching Rosier in mild amusement. Evan had an unmistakeable smirk on his face as he rummaged through his trunk.
“Good night?” Severus asked.
Rosier spun around brusquely, but once he realized it was Snape talking, his face broke into a large grin. “Excellent night,” he affirmed.
“I’m sure,” replied Severus, walking into the room and moving to grab his shoulder bag.
Rosier shrugged on his robes and adjusted the collar. “I slept well, is all.”
Severus pressed his lips together. “Please,” he said flatly, “spare me the details.”
“Of course,” Rosier replied with a chuckle. “Did you see Flo this morning, then?” He seemed completely unruffled by the thought, and waggled his eyebrows. “At least I can be sure that you won’t be picturing her with her arse in the air every time I mention her name.”
Severus choked, falling into a spasm of coughing. If he ever pictured that, he’d Obliviate himself.
“Lestrange would, you know,” Rosier continued. “He’s always perving over the girls here.”
“Narcissa, you mean?” Severus croaked out, catching his breath.
Rosier grabbed his books and tucked them under an arm. “Well, yes,” he mused thoughtfully. “But that’s almost expected.”
“Isn’t she your cousin?”
Rosier snorted loudly. “As if that’s ever stopped anyone.”
Severus was privately disgusted by this, and nearly-nearly-felt thankful that he was a Half-blood. “It would stop me.”
“Really?” Rosier appeared entirely unconvinced. “So if you could have a go with Narcissa you’d refuse?”
“I wasn’t talking about that,” Severus answered sharply.
“So you would have a go with her?” Rosier teased.
“That’s not what I said!” Severus exclaimed irritably.
Rosier shrugged. “You could use a good shag,” he announced. Severus glared at him. “What?” he continued. “Don’t bother denying it. It’d loosen you up a bit, I’d wager. In fact, I think I probably have wagered on it.”
Severus rubbed at his forehead with his free hand. Rosier was in one of his moods, and it would only get worse as time progressed. “I’m going to breakfast.”
“I’ll be down in a bit,” answered Rosier. “I promised Flo I’d meet her.” He snorted and combed his fingers through his hair. “You know. Obligatory conversation.”
“You’re so thoughtful,” Severus replied sardonically. “She’s a lucky girl.”
Rosier waved his wand at his bed curtains, and they shut with a snap. “If she didn’t know that before, she does now.”
Severus made a disgusted noise in the back of his throat and excused himself hastily before he lost his appetite completely.
* * *
“Did you get tied up?” Regulus asked, passing over a plate of steaming sausages.
“You don’t even want to know,” Snape answered, forking a plump sausage and adding it to his plate.
Regulus lifted his eyebrows and took a bite of toast, smiling to himself. The Slytherin table was slowly filling up. A group of sleepy, yawning girls sat a little further down the table. To Severus’s surprise, Barty Crouch joined them, plopping down on the bench and sneaking Severus a sage smile.
Severus lifted an eyebrow.
Regulus subtly indicated Barty with his fork. “He’s trying to get friendly with the dark-haired one. I forget her name. Davis, maybe,” he said. “He teaches them all swear words in different languages, so they think he’s quite a novelty.”
“Does he?”
“Yeah,” Regulus said, taking a sip of juice. He swallowed and then added, “You know how his father knows hundreds of languages? Well, Barty doesn’t have a bad ear for them himself, though he usually only bothers with the dirty words.”
Shaking his head, Severus turned back to his plate. “How are your classes going?”
“All right,” Regulus said, pulling a face. “We’ve got loads of work already. I’ve got a humongous translation assignment in Ancient Runes.”
“It only gets worse,” Severus mused cynically.
“Wonderful,” Regulus sighed. “And how are your classes going? Slughorn was raving about you the other day.”
“Oh?”
Nodding, Regulus wiped his mouth with a cloth napkin. “T’wasn’t surprising, of course.”
Severus felt strangely humbled, and, on impulse, decided to share the news of Slughorn’s newest assignment with Regulus. “I’m brewing Veritaserum for him.”
Regulus’s blue eyes widened. “You don’t say?” he said in wonder. “Bloody hell, that’s top-notch stuff, right there.”
“It is,” Severus agreed. “Unfortunately, he hasn’t mentioned whether or not we will be able to test our final product.” He’d wanted to approach the subject with the Professor, but knew that his timing would mean everything. He didn’t want Professor Slughorn to suspect that he was up to anything.
“Don’t tell him,” suggested Regulus. “What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him. I doubt he’ll care too much, anyway.” He grinned slyly. “As long as you don’t get in trouble.”
Severus smiled tightly. “Yes,” he agreed, “I suppose you’re right.” He took another bite of sausage and stole a glance at Regulus, who was making faces at Barty. The boy was a little immature and naïve, but the more Severus talked to him, the more he redeemed himself for being a direct relative of Sirius Black.
* * *
It turned out that Severus wasn’t even to attend class in the Potions room anymore. When he arrived, Slughorn directed him into an adjacent room.
“I thought it would be best for you two to work undisturbed,” Slughorn said. “You never know when someone is going to blow something up and make a large mess.” He large forehead wrinkled as he fiddled with the end of his moustache. “You also will be able to access it at night. Ms. Evans is already there; I’ve given her the necessary instructions. She’ll relay the information, of course.”
‘I hope so,’ Severus thought jadedly. He was a more than a little put out that he’d missed the instructions, but gave Slughorn with a brief nod. “Thank you, sir,” he said, turning away from Slughorn’s desk.
“Best of luck!” Slughorn replied cheerfully. “I’ll be over in a little while to check up on things.”
Severus nodded, giving the classroom a fleeting look as he made the way to the door. He caught Lestrange’s eye and bobbed his head in acknowledgement.
“Snape!” Lestrange waved him over. “Where are you going?”
“Special assignment,” Severus replied quietly. He noticed Florence, who’d ducked down behind Lestrange. She bowed her head and began to scribble across a piece of parchment lying on the table. Severus had the feeling she was trying to go unnoticed. That was fine with him.
“Oh yeah?” Lestrange frowned. “What do you get to do?”
“Work with Evans on an excruciatingly boring potion,” he said cautiously.
“Evans?” Lestrange repeated, looking incredulous. “Because you both did so well with the Draught of Living Death?”
“That seems likely.”
Lestrange hooked his index finger into the collar of his robes and pulled the material away from his neck, looking dismayed. “Bollocks.” His dark eyes glistened in the dim light of the room. “S’pose Professor Slughorn thinks you’re really special then, eh?” Lestrange asked. “Sticking you in a room with his favourite Mudblood.” The corner of his eye twitched. “Bet you can write home to your mum and dad about that one.”
“I’m spending every class period alone with a Mudblood for an entire lunar cycle,” Severus replied testily. “I hardly think that’s anything to be jealous of.”
“I’m not jealous!” snapped Lestrange.
“Right,” Severus muttered. “I’d hope not.”
“Well.” Lestrange’s face softened. He was obviously trying not to seem jealous. “If she acts like a bitch, you can curse her and no one will know.”
Severus nodded curtly. “I’ll keep that in mind.” He glanced over his shoulder at Slughorn, who was surveying him curiously. “I’ve got to go.”
“Have fun,” Lestrange replied, and a nasty little smile had returned to his face.
Severus grunted and left the Potions room. The door to the classroom across the hall was shut, so he grabbed the doorknob and tentatively pushed it open.
Lily was sitting down in a chair, poring over a leather-bound book. She was dressed in her robes and a protective apron, and her long hair was pulled up into a makeshift bun, although a few rogue strands framed her face. She looked up at the sound of the door creaking open. “Hi.”
“Hi.” He glanced around uncomfortably. There was a large cauldron with bubbling contents on one end of the long oak tale in the centre of the room. Aside from that, the furnishings included a tall shelf full of dusty, bottled ingredients, four rickety chairs, and a large basin sink. He placed his bag in a nearby chair and approached the table to inspect the brewing Veritaserum. It was pea-green in colour, and looked to be the consistency of heavy cream.
“It’s sort of strange being separated from the rest of the class, isn’t it?” Evans asked, joining him. She frowned as she scrutinized the brew.
“It is,” he agreed, watching the surface of the potion bubble. “But there will be fewer distractions.”
She nodded. “Professor Slughorn completed the first three steps,” she told him, gesturing to the book in her hands. “When the potion starts to give off a yellow vapour, we need to add thirteen quartered henbane seeds.”
“And until then?” he asked.
“I think we should go over the lunar calendar and make some sort of schedule,” she replied. “We can arrange times to meet here.” She quirked her mouth to the side in uncertainty. “Unless you just want to take turns.”
“No,” he said quickly. No matter how good of a Potions student Evans was, Severus had no intention of letting anything happen to the potion that he couldn’t personally oversee, or better yet, do on his own.
“I thought you might say that,” she said with a smile. She moved over to an empty spot on the table and opened the book, placing it on the table. She’d marked the page with her quill and a scrap piece of parchment. “We have to transfer the Potion into a silver cauldron at midnight when the waxing crescent moon is at twenty-five percent. Which,” she picked up the quill and tapped it against her chin thoughtfully, “happens to be next Saturday.” She blinked up at him. “Are you free?”
He furrowed his brows. “Yes. Did you think I’d have something else planned?”
She snorted softly, carefully writing out the time and date of their next get-together. “Oh, I don’t know,” she murmured absently. “Perhaps you had some pressing business. Midnight duels, something like that.”
“Are you trying to be insulting?”
Lily’s mouth twitched. “No.” She folded the piece of paper and held it out for him. He accepted it, somewhat grudgingly. “But don’t act like you’ve never had a midnight duel.”
Severus lifted an eyebrow and gave her a look. He had, in fact, been involved in two midnight duels during his time at Hogwarts. One was against James Potter, during his second year at Hogwarts. Their mutual dislike for each other was widely known, and one day during an exchange of curses, James had challenged Severus to meet him in a large storage room at midnight. The entire affair was more of a spectacle than anything, and neither of them had come out of it any better than the other. James refused to let Sirius help, abiding by the ancient duelling regulations. The second duel happened during his third year, against a seventh year Slytherin named Alecto, who was Julius Carrow’s cousin. It was common practice for the older Slytherins to duel the younger students in order to estimate their worth. Unlike Potter, Alecto did not bother with recognizing duelling regulations. His troll of a sister, Amycus, joined him, and Severus ended up spending two nights in the hospital wing. Amycus and Alecto, however, spent three nights in the infirmary, both suffering from strange maladies that Madam Pince had difficulty diagnosing.
If anything, that particular duel ended up sparking much more interest in Severus’s capabilities, and the other Slytherins finally began to invite him to their various activities.
Lily was looking at him expectantly, and he shook his thoughts away. “I haven’t been a participant in a proper duel for some time now.”
“Since second year?” Lily guessed. “Against Potter?”
Severus frowned. “How did you know about that?”
“I was there.”
He didn’t remember that, and must have looked dumbfounded, because Lily laughed at him. “I was,” she said, tucking her hair behind her ears. “I think nearly every Gryffindor and Slytherin second year was there. It’s a wonder Filch didn’t catch us all and hang us up by our thumbs.”
“Really.” He had no idea what to say, and stared blankly at the back of her head as she turned away.
“Yes, really,” Lily said somewhat roughly. She’d walked over to the bookshelves and was on the tips of her toes, stretching for a jar of what Severus assumed to be henbane seeds.
“You are a witch, you know,” he said rather pointedly. “Summon it down.”
She looked over her shoulder and narrowed her eyes. “Possessing magical abilities is not an excuse for laziness.”
“Did Professor McGonagall tell you that?” Snape wondered.
Lily stretched up a little further and wrapped her fingers around the jar, pulling it down to her chest. “Yes,” she breathed, “and I think she’s got a point.”
“Of course you do,” he muttered. “Here.” Reaching out his hand, he gestured to the jar. “I’ll begin cutting the seeds.”
Lily placed the jar in his hands and moved to the cauldron. She checked the colouring and then turned to watch him as he diced the seeds into perfect quarters.
“I didn’t mean to offend you,” she said after a moment. “About the duelling.”
He glanced up at her for a moment. “I’m not offended,” he said, dismissing her apology and turning back to quartering the fourth seed.
“I tried duelling once, after that,” he heard her say. Surprised by her revelation, he stopped mid-slice and turned to her in curiosity.
“You did?” Perhaps he’d heard her wrong.
“Mmhm,” she replied. “With Patrice.” She crinkled her nose at the memory.
“Aren’t you friends?” Severus asked.
Her cheek dimpled as she grinned. “Yes, we’ve been friends since first year.”
“But you duelled?” he inquired dubiously.
“It wasn’t malicious,” she replied. “After we saw your duel with Potter, we decided to try it ourselves.”
“With what?” he couldn’t help but scoff. “Cheering charms, was it?”
“Ha ha,” she said flatly. “I’ll have you know that we actually used jinxes. Patrice knows a nasty tongue-twisting curse.” Severus wasn’t exactly impressed with tongue-twisting curses, and Lily must have sensed that, because she flushed brightly.
“Fascinating,” he said, smirking to himself.
“You don’t have to be so condescending, you know,” she replied pointedly. “I’m not trying to impress you; I’m simply telling a story.”
He blinked at her in bemusement before turning back to his seeds. Although he found Lily’s admission amusing in a pathetic sort of way, he didn’t intentionally want to make her feel foolish. He decided to appease her, if only minimally. “It’s good to practice, I suppose.”
“S’all right,” she said, “You haven’t hurt my feelings. I prepared myself for this.”
He jerked his head up sharply, trying to see if she was simply teasing. Unfortunately, she wasn’t looking at him so he couldn’t be sure. Instead, she was peering down over the edge of the cauldron. “Look!” she said, “It’s started to emit the vapour.” Her eyes seemed to shine an even brighter green when she was excited, he noticed.
His wonderment at whether or not she’d just affronted him quickly vanished. “I’ve finished the seeds.” He placed his knife on the table.
“Shall we add them, then?”
Severus nodded, grabbing the cutting board and bringing it over to the cauldron. “Get the tweezers,” he ordered.
If Lily was irritated by his orders, she didn’t show it, and obediently grabbed a pair of needle-tipped tweezers. He held out the cutting board, and she plucked the quartered seeds off of it one by one, adding the specified amount.
To their amazement, the vapour that was pouring out of the cauldron suddenly moved in a counter-clockwise circle and turned from yellow to white. The room slowly filled with an antiseptic type smell. The potion turned from a pea-green colour to an ivory, shimmering liquid.
“The directions said it would do that,” said Lily approvingly, glancing down at a small timepiece on her wrist. “We have to wait thirty minutes and then stir it counter-clockwise seven times.”
“It isn’t exactly hard, is it?” Severus replied. Honestly, the entire process had been rather boring. If he had the proper materials, he could do it on his own.
“Perhaps it seems that way now,” Lily said, “but transferring it is going to be terribly difficult.”
Severus considered this, but didn’t say anything one way or the other. He wouldn’t judge the complexity of the potion until after he’d mastered it. He watched the potion critically for several minutes before turning back to retrieve his Advanced Potions book out of his shoulder bag. If he had to sit there for thirty minutes, he figured he’d make use of the time. Settling into one of the sturdier looking chairs, he opened his book to examine his Latin conjugations.
Lily also sat down, busying herself with writing something on a roll of parchment. Every so often she would pause to reread what she had written. It didn’t look like it was any sort of schoolwork, so Severus assumed she was writing a letter.
Twenty minutes went by in silence, and after scratching down the word “Muffliato” in an available blank area on the page, Severus felt a pair of eyes on him. His gaze flickered over to where Lily was sitting.
She’d been watching him, and looked away upon meeting his gaze, wincing in embarrassment. “Sorry,” she apologized quietly. “You looked so intense. I was wondering what you were writing.”
He shook his head dismissively. “I’m just working on a few spells.”
She arched her brows inquiringly. “Without wand movement?”
He exhaled out of his nose. “You misunderstood what I said. I’m developing spells.”
Lily scooted forward in her chair, placing her elbows on her knees and her chin in her hands. “You develop spells?”
Severus pressed his lips together, uncertain as to how much information he should share. “I experiment.”
“You do this a lot?” It wasn’t so much a question as a statement.
“Yes.”
“Do they work?” she asked inquisitively.
For whatever reason, he decided to give her an example. He’d never outwardly taken credit for a spell before. “Perhaps you remember the popularity of swinging someone upside down in the air?” he said, lowering his voice cautiously.
Lily’s jaw dropped. “You invented a nonverbal spell?” Her facial expression changed from a look of awe to a look of near-reverence. “That’s complicated work, and really impressive.”
Severus looked down at his book, unsure of what to say. Surely Lily would mention the irony in his own spell being used against him. In fact, he was already preparing a suitable retort when she asked, “What are you working on now?”
He found it hard to believe that she didn’t bring up the quirk of fate involving his own spell. Then again, she did know first hand how sensitive he was about the incident. His defensive stance softened a little. “A spell for Professor Kennicot’s assignment. If my deductions are correct, it should let you pass along information without being heard by others in the surrounding area.”
“Wow.” Lily looked impressed. “And you do this a lot?” she asked. “Make spells, I mean.”
“It’s a hobby,” he deadpanned.
“And to think, most students assume you spend your free time perfecting Unforgivable curses,” she teased.
Severus grew uncomfortably silent. Luckily, Lily didn’t have time to notice the awkward lull in conversation, as Professor Slughorn entered the room, sniffing loudly. His moustache jiggled under his nose.
“Wonderful,” he said, rubbing his hands together as he approached the simmering cauldron. “I smell success, oh yes, indeed.”
Lily got up, placing her belongings on her chair. The hem of her robes nearly dusted the floor as she trailed behind Professor Slughorn, and she glanced over her shoulder and shook her head, grinning at Severus.
Severus gave her a small smile, understanding exactly what she meant.
* * *
The Common Room was bustling with excitement. A small horde of third years was crowded around the message board, chattering excitedly and pointing at a scrap of parchment.
It meant one thing, Severus noted dryly; a Hogsmeade weekend was quickly approaching.
Not feeling particularly up to elbowing his way through the throng of students, he adjusted his bag’s strap and decided to drop his belongings off in his trunk before Herbology. He hadn’t gotten far when a petite figure came out of the corridor leading to the girl’s dormitory and nearly collided with him.
“Oh, dear. I’m sorry.” Narcissa put up her palms and smiled. “I didn’t see you there.”
“It's fine,” Severus replied. “The younger students are in a frenzy.”
Narcissa pursed her lips, giving the younger students a sidelong glance. “Yes,” she agreed with a sigh. “They’ve put up the Hogsmeade weekend notice. It’s next Saturday.”
“I figured that was it.” He folded his arms across his chest uneasily, suddenly all to aware of Narcissa’s pretty smile, the way her hair shined like in the eerie glow of the lake water, and the way he couldn’t bring himself to look directly into her eyes. Good God, he was turning into Lestrange. It was ridiculous.
“Are you going?” she asked. “Bellatrix sent an owl that she and Rodolphus would be at the Three Broomsticks.”
“Will they?”
She nodded. “Yes, they’re supposed to be there around one o’clock, in one of the private rooms in the back. I can’t even begin to explain how relieved I am that she didn’t want to meet in the Hog’s Head--you know Bella. That place is filthy.”
Severus agreed, though he did find the pub interesting. The Hog’s Head had a reputation for drawing an unusual, Machiavellian-type crowd. “Are there others going to be there?” he asked slowly, thinking of Bellatrix and Rodolphus’s engagement party.
“I don’t think so,” replied Narcissa. “But that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t stop by and say hello.” She absently fingered a lock of hair, tilting her head up and giving him an appealing look. “Of course, if you’re running around with Rabastan, you’ll probably bump into them, anyhow.”
“It’s a possibility.” He swallowed, suddenly feeling heat rushing up from his collar.
Her lips curled up into a coy smile. “Oh, good,” she said, “I was worried you might start slipping away from our social circle.”
Severus lifted an eyebrow, wondering how to respond. Fortunately, he didn’t have to, because she tittered softly. “Don’t look like that. It’s quite apparent that you don’t like to be a part of a crowd.” Her words reminded him of Lucius’s comment at the engagement party; he might have been a bit offended had she not taken that moment to lay her hand on his forearm, continuing, “But that’s the lovely thing about being part of our group, Severus. Everyone understands the need for independence, but we all have services to offer when a situation arises.”
Her blue eyes shimmered under her long, dark lashes. Severus looked into them for a moment, trying to discern the meaning behind her words, but his attempt was cut short when her gaze flickered to something beyond him. She broke out into a broad smile. “Oh!” she called out, “Hope!” She glanced back up at Severus and squeezed his arm. “Excuse me,” she said hastily, “but I’ve been waiting to speak with Hope all day.” She lifted her hand and manoeuvred around him gracefully, stepping aside and adding, “I hope we’ll see you at the Three Broomsticks!” before rushing away and linking arms with Hope.
“I’ll see you around,” he replied gruffly. To be perfectly honest, he wasn’t sure if she even heard him. She and Hope were chattering excitedly about something. It didn’t matter, anyway, he decided. There was something about Narcissa that put him on edge.
“Have a nice chat?” someone asked from beside him.
Severus spun around and found himself face to face with Rabastan. “It wasn’t much of a chat,” he greeted blandly. “She was telling me about Hogsmeade.”
“Ah,” Rabastan said. “Yeah, it’s about time. I could use a trip to Zonko’s.” Severus would never have guessed it for all of Rabastan’s gruffness and belligerence, but Rabastan had the largest sweet tooth of anyone he’d ever met. It was a wonder he still had all of his teeth.
“I wouldn’t mind stopping at the Apothecary there,” Severus replied. “I’m running low on a few things.”
“Oh?” Rabastan replied. “And how did your potion go with Evans, then?”
“The potion is fine,” Severus replied. “The rest of it was rather dull. I worked on Professor Kennicot’s assignment.” Rabastan nodded, and Severus didn’t think he was on the warpath any longer, so he asked, “How did you fair in Potions?”
Rabastan placed the palm of his hand on the crown of his head and massaged it slowly. “Ugh,” he grunted. “No one managed to make the confusing concoction, and Professor Slughorn decided to wind us up about how someone must have slipped us some in our juice this morning.”
Severus frowned. Often, Professor Slughorn’s attempts at humour ended up being riddled with unintentional disdain, so he sympathized with Lestrange, barely. “At least no one managed it.”
“Potter came close,” replied Rabastan. “Professor Slughorn awarded him ten house points for his attempt.” He curled his lip in contempt. “I think it’s because Evans wasn’t there and he couldn’t moon over her for the entire class period.”
Severus snorted. “I doubt you’re far off the mark.”
Rabastan nodded, then shook his head quickly. “Oh,” he said, “I forgot to tell you, an owl arrived for you today, mangy thing. Julius accepted the letter and left it on your trunk.”
That was unexpected news, and Severus hastily excused himself from Rabastan and made his way to the sixth-year dormitory. No one else was present, so he whisked over to his trunk, threw off his bag, and snatched up the letter. He waved his wand at his bed curtains and they rushed open with a snap, leaving him plenty of room to sit down on the side of his bed. The mattress groaned quietly beneath him.
The letter was, oddly enough, from his mother. Another quick spell had the envelope unsealed, and he pulled out a piece of white, plain stationary, recognizing his mother’s neat handwriting.
Severus, he read.
I haven’t heard from you since you left for Hogwarts, and I assume this means you’re doing well. Your father is fine, and I’m sure you will hardly be surprised to hear that little has changed since you left.
The truth is, I would not hasten to write you were it not for the fact that I am travelling to London next week. I have some business to take care of--business that is long overdue--and I decided I would make a quick trip to Diagon Alley as long as I am there. It has been ages since I’ve visited, as I’m sure you realize. I thought I would write to see if you needed anything. Do reply as soon as possible if this is the case. Even if this isn’t the case, I wouldn’t mind hearing how you’re doing in school.
Your father sends his regards. I hope you’re taking care of yourself, Severus. Keep our last conversation in mind.
All My Love.
Severus reread the letter several times, trying to figure out exactly what it meant. Of course, he understood that his mother was expecting a small list of supplies that she could purchase for him, but there was something else in what went unsaid that nagged him. It was something in the nature of the business she was attending to. Her choice of words was very vague, and the way his mother mentioned it-so blasé in passing-was suspicious.
Still, he assumed that his mother would tell him if it was an urgent matter, especially if it involved him. They were not the best communicators, surely, but they did have a mutual respect that surpassed normal family niceties and allowed them to establish trust in one another. The only exception to that was when his mother mentioned his father sending regards. Severus highly doubted that Tobias would do such a thing. However, he understood why his mother would write so.
He thought idly about Diagon Alley and items from its various shops that he might find useful. In the end, he decided to ask for a new pair of dragon-hide gloves and a set of quills, because Hogsmeade charged an arm and a leg for them, knowing that students were hard-pressed to find a closer store. He scrawled his request out in a short letter, letting his mother know that he didn’t need anything else because he had a Hogsmeade trip in the near future. He wasn’t sure what to say about his classes, and in the end simply told her that he was doing well and that Professor Slughorn had selected him to do a special project. He also mentioned seeing her at Christmas, which came out as a surprise, since he hadn’t decided to return to Spinner’s End until that moment. Oddly enough, he felt like he had to return in order to see her.
Scribbling his name across the bottom of the parchment, he folded it up and searched his trunk for a stray envelope. Once he found one, he sealed his letter inside and rustled through his trunk for his Herbology book. Tucking both items inside his shoulder bag, he started off for class, meaning to make a quick detour to the Owlry before heading out to the greenhouses.
Hopefully, the professor would busy them with mindless work and he’d have time to think.