Chapter
Seven
~ In which Snape becomes the villain ~
The days
soon passed quickly by as the weather grew colder. It had been nearly two
months since Draco, Ginny and Severus had gotten lost in the
Severus had
shown Draco the hidden garden by the lake (“What the hell is this place doing
here?”) and they had set to work weeding the barely visible lawn and replacing
the worn out path. Severus was rather surprised to notice that Draco didn’t
complain when they were required to shift the huge stones into place for
cleaning. He guessed that he too was feeling restless, and had become used to
trekking for hours in the forest. Or maybe it was just because Severus could
lift with ease, boulders that Draco could only roll.
Whatever the
reason, Severus had noticed a difference in Draco. Even Ginny when they were
practising duelling against each other found that more force seemed to come
from Draco’s hexes than ever before.
Along with
the Duelling Club, Quidditch practise, fixing up the garden, and the usual
homework and detentions, Severus barely had time to revisit his office every
now and then to continue his potion brewing.
Deciding to
dash down before lunch, Severus packed up his Charms books hurriedly and left
the classroom. To his dismay he collided head on with Professor Garwood.
“Ah, Mr
Snape! I seem to recall you mentioning that you take Muggle Studies. I assume
you’re on your way to the casting now?”
Severus’s
face dropped. He’d completely forgotten about the awful play. Ginny’s class had
been writing it for the past month, drawing heavy inspiration from the Muggle
fairytale, Flashdance.
“Yeah, I
suppose.” His face brightened. “Except I’ve been feeling sort of ill lately. I
might have to visit the hospital wing first…” And then never show up, he
finished mentally.
Garwood
smiled indulgently. “Feeling butterflies already? A confident young man like
you? Nonsense! Come on, Professor Mimble requested my presence. You can direct
me to the room.”
“But—”
“Severus!”
Draco yelled, peeling himself from the mass of Slytherins trooping down the
hall. “Lunch!”
Severus
shrugged at Garwood apologetically. “Lunch,” he agreed. “I’m absolutely
starving.”
“You said
you were ill.”
Severus
clutched his stomach. “I’m ill with hunger.”
Garwood
frowned at him and Draco marched up, grinning suggestively. “Hello, Professor.”
“Mr Malfoy,
do you do Muggle Studies?”
Draco
snorted. “No!” Then he turned towards Snape. “Oh, that’s right! You’ve got
casting for your Muggle play this lunch!” Severus glared at him. “Ginny was
going on about it. Apparently there’s singing.”
Draco went
off into guffaws of laughter and Professor Garwood gave him a disapproving look.
“I suppose you know where it is then,” she said.
“Oh, yes.”
Draco grinned, motioning him to follow. “Come on, Severus, or we’ll be late.”
Severus
groaned and Garwood frowned at him a second time. “Coming…” he muttered. He
cast a sulky look at Garwood who started to walk in front of him. “Professor,
what does Mimble need you for?”
“Moral
support,” said Garwood breezily. “Cheer up, Mr Snape. I’m sure your lunch won’t
eat itself.”
Severus
glowered, wishing that Mimble had chosen any other Professor to help him
control the students. He kicked at the hem of Draco’s robe.
To his
annoyance, Draco just glanced over his shoulder and winked. “You know,” he said
to Garwood. “I bet Severus is going to get the lead role.” Severus kicked his
robe harder and Draco beamed. “He has the voice of an angel.”
Garwood
cleared her throat. “Is it much further?”
“Nearly
there. Are you going to Hogsmeade on Friday night, Professor? I believe we
still owe you Butterbeers.”
Severus
fumed behind them but Garwood didn’t notice. She smiled at Draco. “Of course.”
As the three
of them rounded the corner, they were met with Mimble’s voice yelling over
uproarious cheering. Garwood walked through the doorway of the old classroom
and the fourth and fifth years’ cheering died down. Mimble hurried towards her
from the other side of the room, while Woodley leapt from the collapsible
stage.
“I’m glad
you’re here,” Mimble muttered. “These students don’t seem to value my opinion
at all.”
Garwood
raised her eyebrows. “That’s unfortunate.” She motioned to Draco and Severus.
“Here, I’ve brought more recruits.”
Mimble
looked at Draco. “You’re not in my class.”
“Oh, I’m
just here to observe,” said Draco. “But Muggles are so interesting, aren’t they? I’m absolutely obsessed with
comblutors and the internets.”
Mimble’s
frown dissipated. “I do love comblutors.”
“You do
realise,” said Ginny, sidling up to Mimble and snorting at Draco’s earnest
expression. “He’s taking the piss.”
“Language,
Miss Weasley,” said Mimble. “Although the accusation offends me even more. Five
points from Gryffindor for being cynical.”
Draco caught
Severus’s eye. Unable to help himself, Severus burst out laughing.
Ginny
rounded on him and crossed her arms. “Severus,” she said, her eyes gleaming. “I
don’t suppose you’d like to try out next?”
“Certainly
not,” said Severus, though hesitating at Garwood’s encouraging smile. “I mean…
that is… What’s the part?”
“The dashing
hero!” declared Draco. “There is no lesser part that Severus Snape could—ow!”
Ginny
stepped off Draco’s foot. “Don’t be stupid. Philip’s the lead; everybody
voted.” She turned to Severus. “No offence, it’s just that everyone thought you
were more… well, the villain type.”
“The
villain?” repeated Severus, scowling.
Garwood,
Mimble, Draco and Ginny stared at his face and started nodding at each other.
“I’d always
thought he had a villainous sort of face,” said Mimble.
Snape’s
scowl intensified. “Certainly not,”
he repeated. “I just wanted a background part.” He paused, realising that half
the room had ceased their conversations and were staring at him in
anticipation. He glared around at them. “You hear that? You can’t make me do
something I don’t want to do! I am not
playing the villain. The mere concept offends me. Besides, I’m in Gryffindor… I’m not evil.”
“He’s so
tortured,” whispered one of the Ravenclaw girls.
Severus
rounded on her. “No, I’m not!” he said angrily. “You stupid girl!”
All of a
sudden a great gust of wind swept through the classroom window, billowing out
Severus’s cloak to its full length around him. Mimble gave a slight scream and
the room gasped. The Ravenclaw girl started fanning her face.
“Genius,”
said Woodley, clapping his hands.
“Brilliant,”
said Garwood.
“Absolutely
inspired,” said Draco.
Ginny threw
her arms around a flushed Severus. “I knew
you’d be perfect!”
Feeling
absolutely humiliated, Severus found himself unable to say a word. When did
everybody stop taking him seriously?
***
It was very
late at night when Severus crept back up to his dormitory. He’d checked on his
potions and spoken to Dumbledore, who didn’t seem at all worried that he was no
closer to finding a cure. He’d even hired a temporary Potions Master to replace
him.
Pulling off
his shoes, Severus slid into bed. He wondered if Dumbledore ever expected him
to change back. A tinge of guilt grew in Snape’s stomach. It was so easy to get
distracted by the day-to-day life at Hogwarts. Life had seemed much simpler at
the beginning of term. Back then there were no week-long treks in the Forbidden
Forest or idiotic plays or female Professors that didn’t know that he was
actually a couple of years older than them…
He didn’t
know how or why, but he would eventually change back, and then… then he
would claim his prize.
***
“Ron!”
“Mmmhmm…?”
“Ron! Wake
up!”
“Urrrgh…”
“Quidditch
prac. Come on!”
Ron Weasley
rubbed his eyes and sat up in bed. “Jeez, Harry, I think Oliver was a bad
influence on you…”
“Look!”
replied Harry Potter in satisfaction. “Snape’s still sleeping!”
Ron blinked and
stared across at a peaceful looking Severus in the next bed.
“Well, have
fun—” Ron started to say, when he remembered that he had been chosen for Chaser
during Trials the day before.
His
enthusiasm seemed to wane as he felt a breeze of cold air blow in through the
window. He was going to shoot Harry a wheedling look, but changed his mind when
he saw how serious his best friend looked.
“All right,”
said Ron wearily. “I’ll go get changed and you can wake our dear lamb.”
Harry
grinned at him and stifled a laugh as Snape’s face twisted into a very
un-lamb-like frown.
“Good
morning, Snape,” said Harry.
Harry didn’t
think that anyone could glare at him as soon as they opened their eyes but
Severus proved him wrong.
“You walk
like an elephant, Potter,” Snape sneered. “I think it’s a rotten morning.”
“Right,”
said Harry. “Well, I hope you’re ready for Quidditch practise.”
Snape threw
him an insolent look, leaped out of bed, and threw on a nearby robe over his
drawers. “Ready, when you are, Potter.”
“OK…” Harry
murmured, raising an eyebrow.
“All right,”
said Ron after a pause, coming out of the bathroom untidily dressed with a comb
stuck in his flaming hair. “You can use the—eh? How did you…?”
Ron stared
bleary-eyed at an already dressed Severus. “Don’t you ever change?”
“Don’t be
stupid,” sneered Severus. “I’m going down.”
And with
that, Snape caught up his cloak and strode from the room in a flurry of
billowing black. Ron jumped out of the way just in time to see a ball of black
fur streak past his ankles after its master.
“Well…better
get going then,” said Harry, with a quiet smile at the expression on Ron’s
face.
“Yeah,” Ron
replied, not listening but following anyway. “But I swear, that cat is evil.”
The boys
trooped down the stairs in rising spirits, Ron complaining indignantly about
cats and Harry laughing as he agreed with him.
“I admit
that Crookshanks is all right, once you get to know him, but—”
Ron stopped
suddenly at the base of the stairs causing Harry to run into him. In the common
room Ginny Weasley was cuddling Oreo and chatting happily with Snape.
“Oh, hullo,
Ron,” she said. “Thought I’d watch you practise…if that’s OK?”
Harry saw
her glance at him shyly and he couldn’t resist grinning back. “I’m sure Ron
doesn’t mind,” he said with a smile, hoisting his new broom over his shoulder.
“Ron does
mind,” said Ron, looking from her to Snape. “But I suppose its all right…just
don’t go squealing off to Malfoy about–”
“Ron!”
“All right,
OK, just joking…” her brother said hastily. “But I still don’t see why you talk
to the…”
It was here
that Ron’s voice came down to an inaudible mutter and Ginny gave him a
withering look. Severus was just about to say something biting in response when
his gaze flickered to Ginny and he contented himself with a scowl instead.
“Hullo,
Harry!” came a chorus of voices. “We actually got up on time!”
Severus
looked at Fred and George Weasley in dislike, but they didn’t seem to notice as
they slapped him on the back.
“How’s our
spiffing Keeper, eh?”
“Not giving our
Captain any trouble?”
“Glad to
hear it!”
“And how’s
ickle Ronniekins?”
“All ready
to stuff up?”
“Glad to
hear it!”
“And where
are the other lovely Chasers?”
“Over here,”
came two feminine voices behind them.
“Glad to
hear it!” the twins chorused finally, magically managing to slap everyone on
the back at once.
“Er…OK…let’s
go then,” said Harry awkwardly, looking around at the unusually enthusiastic
team. “We’ve got two hours.”
***
“Good one,
Ron!”
Ron grinned
at his best friend as he caught the Quaffle in a perfect swoop and threw it
over to a passing Katie Bell.
“Yeah,
you’re not that bad,” Katie smiled, as she caught it deftly and aimed at the
goal.
A hand
hardened by physical labour stopped the ball in mid-flight and hefted it across
the field.
“Snape!
You’re meant to be staying in goals!” cried Harry, annoyed.
“It’s
boring,” Severus said offhandedly. “And besides, I am around the goals,
and I am perfectly capable of stopping these pathetic attempts even from here.”
Much to his
annoyance, Katie Bell laughed and threw a wink towards Angelina Johnson, who
was practising a new formation with Fred and George Weasley.
“Oh, you
can come as close as you want, Snapey-boy.” Katie laughed, fluttering
her eyelashes.
Severus
glared at her in shock and backed hastily into goals. “Idiot girl,” he
muttered.
The two
Chasers laughed and winked at their Captain. “It’s easy, Harry. All you have to
do is use your…”
Angelina
Johnson’s voice faded away as she saw the strained look on Harry’s face. Ron
stopped grinning and looked where Harry was staring.
“Malfoy,”
he growled.
Down at the
stands, Ginny Weasley was chatting happily to a bemused Slytherin.
“What’s he
doing here?” muttered Ron, trying to give him an evil look but failing as a
Bludger hit him on the chin.
“Are we
going to practise or what?” yelled the twins.
“Yeah, but—”
Ron started to say, but then raising his eyebrows as Harry shook his head.
“Coming,” he said reluctantly, giving Harry a curious look as he flew off.
Harry set his
face into a wry smile and dove down to the spectator stand.
“No way!”
Ginny exclaimed to Draco.
“It’s true,”
said Draco smugly. “I’ll show you then.”
“All right,
but I bet you’re—” Ginny paused, noticing a shadow fall over her. She looked
up. “Oh, Harry! How’s practise going?”
“Excellent,”
said Harry, hovering above them. “Hello, Malfoy.”
Draco’s
manner changed and his face twisted into a sneer. “Come to throw me off,
Potter?” he sneered. “I’d like to see you try, you prancing, little—”
“Actually,”
said Harry abruptly, turning his eyes towards Ginny. “I came to ask Ginny to
Hogsmeade with me—us—there’s a band at the Three Broomsticks for Hallowe’en
tomorrow night, and they’re supposed to be really good.”
Ginny stared
at him wide-eyed. Harry smiled at her. Out of the corner of his eye he could
see Draco staring at him also, but with the coldest look on his face
imaginable.
“I’d love to
go, thank you,” said Ginny shyly.
“Cool,” said
Harry, his grin widening as he jerked his broom upwards. “See you soon.”
Ginny’s
heart skipped a beat as she watched Harry fly away. “What?” she asked Draco,
who was staring at her insufferably.
“Can I ask
you a question?” he said slowly, flicking his gaze between the airborne Potter
and her light brown eyes. “Just what d’you see in him, anyway?”
Ginny smiled
at him wistfully and looked up at the lightening sky. “He’s what I’ve always
dreamed about…” she said earnestly. “I still dream about him at night, and I
think I always will.”
Draco
thought back to the night in the
“We’re all a
little mad, Draco,” she said absent-mindedly. “You know what I mean.”
“Speak for
yourself,” sniffed Draco haughtily. “Then I guess that Woodley fellow is out of
the picture then.”
“Oh,
Philip,” giggled Ginny. “Oh, I don’t know…half of fourth year have already
asked him out…so, you know…”
“No, I don’t
know,” muttered Draco. “So, what d’you consider me and Severus?”
Ginny looked
at him, taken aback. “Well…I don’t know,” she said eventually. “You’re
just…well…there…I mean,” she said hastily, “–that’s not what I mean. I mean, I…oh…I don’t know! Why do
you ask?”
Draco
shrugged and lowered his frown to his hand. Ginny followed his gaze and
clenched her fingers over her right palm instinctively.
“Well, like
it or not we’re all still joined by your beloved oath.”
Ginny
frowned slightly. “You say that as if it’s a bad thing.”
Draco
shrugged once more and looked over his shoulder in dislike. “Tell Severus I’ll
see him at breakfast,” he muttered, and strode quickly away towards the castle.
Ginny
wondered why he had left so suddenly when she saw a bushy-haired fifth year
coming towards her rapidly.
“Ginny!”
said Hermione, breathlessly. “Did I miss anything? How’s Ron doing? Is Harry
all right?”
Ginny
laughed at Hermione’s anxiousness. “They’re fine,” she said teasingly. “Just
like all the other times they’ve practised, Ron’s getting even better and
Harry’s doing a wonderful job of Captaining. Even our Keeper is practising
hard.”
Hermione
looked at Ginny closely and settled down in a seat next to her with a sigh. “I
don’t know why I’m so panicky,” she apologised. “It’s just that…I don’t know.
I’m just worried about Harry this year, after the…you know.”
Ginny
nodded, her cheerfulness fading away.
“There’s
something that he’s not telling us, I think it has to do with…Cedric… It’s
eating at him, whenever we have breakfast or dinner—any meals…he’s withdrawn.”
Ginny fiddled
with her wand and lowered her eyes to the ground. “Has he talked to Cho Chang
lately?”
Hermione
gave her a shrewd look and shook her head. “No, he hasn’t,” she said. “I think
that’s one of the reasons also… He hasn’t talked to her since last year. I
think he’s filled with guilt whenever she’s near…”
“I know,”
said Ginny quietly. “I was at the Yule Ball too; I saw how he looked at her.”
Hermione
gave a start. “You…you still have a thing for…”
“Yes,” said
Ginny, flushing. “But I feel terrible.”
“Don’t,”
said Hermione firmly. “He definitely needs a spot of sunshine in his life, even
if–”
“–Even if
it’s his best friend’s little sister,” muttered Ginny.
“That’s not
what I was going to say!”
Ginny
grinned suddenly. “I know,” she said with a smile. “Besides…Harry asked me to
Hogsmeade.”
Snape hefted
another Quaffle away and looked down at the spectator stands in disgust. He
perceived a laughing Hermione jumping up and down with an equally happy Ginny.
He snorted and continued training.
“Sorry for
going all Parvati/Lavender on you,” said Hermione, regaining her composure and
trying to stop unusually grinning. “Although it was actually quite fun.”
Ginny
laughed, her heart still racing. “So you’re not…not…annoyed?”
Hermione
looked at her blankly. “Annoyed?” she echoed, but then smiling warmly at her.
“Of course not! Isn’t this what you’ve always wanted?”
Ginny nodded
happily and Hermione laughed. “I’m happy for you,” she continued. “Why would I
be annoyed?”
“Well,” said
Ginny awkwardly, “–it’s just that…you’re so close…”
Hermione’s
smile faded and she looked thoughtfully at the flying Harry Potter, laughing
with his best friend.
“I know,”
said Hermione absent-mindedly. “And I know I…er…should like him…”
Ginny looked
at her strangely. “What do you mean?” she asked.
“Well, isn’t
it obvious?” Hermione asked, still absent-mindedly. “He’s Harry Potter;
famous, brave, talented, with a heart of gold.” Hermione smiled to herself. “He
always manages to say exactly the right thing to me if I’m upset, but he would
definitely hex me if he heard what I was saying.”
Hermione
paused, an expression of perplexity crossing her intelligent face. “But still,”
she continued. “There’s something else that gnaws at the back of my mind…an
indescribable feeling that pulls me towards…”
Hermione
stopped, all of a sudden looking hot and bothered.
“What?”
demanded Ginny, making Hermione jump. “It’s not someone else is it? It’s not…
tell me it’s not my brother!”
“Don’t be
silly,” said Hermione with dignity, as Ginny went off into peals of laughter.
“It is not, I mean, I don’t know,
I mean… he can be the most aggravating and most stubborn person at times!
Sometimes I can’t stand him at all!”
Ginny raised
an eyebrow in a rather Severus-like manner. “All right,” she murmured,
attempting to straighten her face.
Hermione
hesitated and said with a sigh, “Look…don’t you feel as if you should
like one of your friends—I’m not admitting to anything—but just…feel drawn
to…another…I mean, you think you know them until they do something so
unexpected… that you start to question not only them…but yourself…like
something that–oh! I cannot believe we are having this conversation!”
Ginny
stiffened throughout Hermione’s unusual speech and the other girl looked at her
curiously.
“Do you know
what I mean?” asked Hermione in surprise.
A tiny
thought crossed Ginny’s mind, which she quickly shook off. “No idea,” she
replied quickly, jerking her head towards the sky and catching a glimpse of Ron
crashing into the far goal post. “Oh no! I knew he shouldn’t rely on
those old school brooms! Ron!”
The two
friends started to sprint over to where Gryffindor’s new Chaser was lying.
“Oh, I just
hope he isn’t hurt or embarrassed,” Hermione said between breaths. “I hate it when
he’s disappointed, especially if he starts hearing what people are saying…”
“–That he
was only picked as Chaser because he’s Harry’s best friend?” Ginny scowled.
Hermione
stared angrily into the distance. “Honestly, I just can’t believe…”
“Well, I
think he’s brilliant,” said Ginny loyally. “And so does the team, so I don’t
care what people say, they can answer to his sister.”
Hermione
laughed and sent her a knowing look. “The forest has really changed you,
Ginny,” said Hermione. “Everyone’s noticed.”
Ginny smiled
awkwardly at her comment and looked ahead at the figure of Harry Potter,
swooping down to check his best friend.
“Well,” said
Ginny softly, “–perhaps its time to start living the life that I’ve imagined.”
***
“Hey! Hey,
Malfoy! A word?”
Draco looked
away from the blazing fire, as a band of Slytherins led by Blaise Zabini
gathered around his armchair.
“Two, if you
want,” Draco replied.
The way the
Slytherins had positioned themselves around him was one Draco didn’t like. He
wondered if they were going to beat him up. As if reading his mind, Zabini held
up his hands.
“We just
want to talk, Malfoy,” Blaise said.
Draco
shrugged. “All right, what is it?”
The whole
common room suddenly went quiet, everyone giving him unsure looks. Zabini
looked at him hard, and started to talk in his deep voice.
“What’s the
deal with the two Gryffindors?”
Draco closed
his eyes and settled back into his chair. “Who cares?” he said with a slight
sneer. “What d’you want to hear about? Some sort of scandal?”
Zabini scowled
at him. “Our fathers all wrote to us, and told us to keep away from you. It
seems that you’re not to be trusted…”
“All right,”
said Draco languishingly. “Don’t tell me about your pitiful plans to
kill Potter, or Muggles or Dumbledore or whatever. Who really wants to become a
Death Eater anyway? Travel the country, meet interesting people, and kill them.
Oh wondrous joy.”
“You
could’ve had a place of honour among the Death Eaters,” said Blaise. “But after
what happened in the
Draco leapt
to his feet and bared his teeth. “I did not cry,” he spat. “And you
must’ve been deprived of oxygen at birth if you don’t know that it’s impossible
not to yell out.”
“You father
was a great Death Eater,” Blaise answered. “And you’ve shamed him.”
“He shamed me!” roared Draco. “Don’t you dare
defend what he did! That pathetic excuse for a man; it was him that
started snivelling when the Dark Lord recognised me as his son. He would’ve
killed me for his fucking honour! His own son! How could you respect someone
like that?”
Blaise
Zabini gave a mirthless laugh. “And we’re supposed to believe you?” he scoffed.
“You’re Dumbledore’s boy now.”
Draco’s hand
itched for his wand but there were at least twenty Slytherins now, all gathered
around him in a big mob. He contented himself with sitting back down and saying
with dignity, “I will never be anyone’s boy.”
“Oh, yes,
you will!” shrilled a voice from the crowd. “Why, right now, you’re Ginny
Weasley’s boy!”
Draco glared
at the speaker, who turned out to be Pansy Parkinson. “Shut up, Pug-face,” he
said, giving her the finger.
“Here,
enough of that,” ordered Zabini, who suspiciously sounded as if he was
suppressing a snigger.
Draco looked
at the larger boy in doubt and noticed that he too was looking at Pansy with
intensely shielded dislike. Draco smirked to himself. That’s what you get for
hanging off the most important Slytherin all the time, Pansy…
“What’s all
this then?!” bellowed a disembodied voice.
The crowd
hastily scattered as the Bloody Baron charged in, demanding they all go to bed.
Draco also got up when a solid arm grasped his shoulder.
“Tell me
straight, Malfoy,” growled Zabini. “We all used to like you. You pulled off
some cunning stunts on the Gryffindors in your day, and now you’re all chummy
with them! Tell me why.”
Draco shook
him off and crossed his arms. The common room was virtually deserted now, and
the Bloody Baron was coming towards them.
“Five
minutes, Baron,” said Zabini, still giving Draco a hard look. “Now spill.”
Draco eyed
him in annoyance and finally shrugged. “I’m not chummy with anyone, and
you know Severus,” he said. “Well he’s all right, so what’s wrong?”
Zabini also
shrugged. “Our fathers didn’t think Snape had a nephew. They told us not to
trust him either, since his uncle turned out to be a traitor.”
“Right,
whatever,” said Draco, feeling slightly surprised when he heard that their Head
of House was a traitor. “Well, that’s it. I hate all the other Gryffindors, you
know that.”
Zabini
raised an eyebrow. “We see you all the time with Ginny Weasley. Don’t tell me
you’re—”
“No!”
snapped Draco. “We’re not involved, and look, if you had to spend a
whole week in the
“You’re not
in the forest anymore,” said Zabini, still eyeing him suspiciously.
“Yeah, well,
it seems as if everything’s still against me,” Draco replied bitterly.
“Look, we
just don’t want trouble,” reasoned Zabini. “You know that serious
relationships with those sorts of families are not—”
“WE ARE NOT
IN A RELATIONSHIP!” exploded Draco. “Hell! I would rather kiss Longbottom’s toad.”
Zabini gave
him a strange look and started to walk away.
“So, what
happens now?” called out Draco, insolently.
“I guess
you’re all right, Draco,” Zabini hesitated. “We’ll make up something good to
tell our fathers. Just… don’t go all soppy over the Weasley and we’ll keep our
mouths shut.”
Draco
grunted.
“Although, I
don’t really blame you,” Zabini continued, lowering his voice. “Our lot
of girls kind of resemble a bunch of modern art pieces.”
Draco
snickered and Blaise gave him a grudging smile, as they both marched down to
their fifth year dormitory.
***
The early
morning sun beat down on two sets of shoulders, one holding a head of very
light blonde hair, and the other of coal black.
“Looks
good,” remarked Severus, straightening up.
“Yeah,”
agreed Draco, sprawling out on the recently scrubbed stone bench. “I can’t
believe no one knows about this place. It’s great.”
Severus
looked amused. “What’s great? The garden or no one else knowing about it?”
“No one else
knowing about it,” grinned Draco. “You may like to pull up weeds all day with
no magic but –Hey!”
Draco shook
his head crossly, pulling dirt from his hair that Severus had just thrown at
him. “I’m prepared to overlook that, Snape,
since you’re probably just nervous about tonight…”
Severus
rolled his eyes. “I’m not nervous.”
“Why?” said Draco.
“Do you have a plan? Besides seducing this older woman with a tankard of
Butterbeer and your adolescent charm?”
Severus
threw another clod of dirt at him which Draco zapped with his wand. “You did
get your uncle to sign the permission form, right?”
“Yes,” said
Severus as he stretched out on the lawn.
“Good,” said
Draco. “Since it’s your first time there, I’ll give you the full tour. We’ll
definitely have to go to the Shrieking Shack. You know what they’ve got
guarding it? A giant!”
Severus
raised his eyebrows. Only a select few knew why Dumbledore had placed a giant
at the entrance of that cursed shack. He wondered if Professor Garwood would
want to wander around Hogsmeade also.
“I told
Ginny,” Draco scoffed, “–but she didn’t believe me. I’m going to show her…”
Draco’s good
mood seemed to fade. Severus propped himself up on his elbows, looking out at
the lake. “D’you think Professor Garwood is single?” he asked.
“I don’t
know.” Draco scowled, pulling out his wand and zapping a fly. “Can you believe
that Ginny’s going to Hogsmeade with Potter? It’s embarrassing.”
“Potter’s an
idiot,” said Severus. “Ginny’ll figure it out quickly.” He paused. “At least
Garwood’s not married… I mean, she hasn’t a ring.”
“Who cares
if she’s married,” said Draco. He crossed his arms. “Potter’s so beneath…everybody. Ginny has got to be the
thickest person I know.”
The two boys
stared off into space.
“I don’t
even know her first name,” said Severus eventually.
Draco
blinked at him. “Who?”
“You know,
Garwood.”
“Oh, right.”
“Who were
you thinking of?”
Draco
scowled. “What makes you think I was thinking about someone?”
Severus
shrugged.
“I’m heading
back to the castle for a shower,” continued Draco. “You coming?”
Severus
yawned and nodded, following the other boy out of the hole in the hedge.
***
Although the
drone of Professor Binns was just as stupor-inducing as usual, the Gryffindor
fourth years were finding it difficult to sit still. Each was excited about the
Hogsmeade trip that evening, and it was all Ginny could do not to dash down the
hallway, whooping at the top of her lungs.
“And now, if
you could all turn to page six hundred and fifty-eight of The Founders: A
History,” droned Binns. “Chapter seventy-two: The Building of Hogwarts.”
There was a
strained silence as each student attempted to tug their massive textbooks to
the correct pages. Half of the students gave up, and Ginny ended up using her
wand to find her place. Normally she would have just nestled into the pages and
taken a brief nap, but that afternoon she felt too restless. Glancing at the
clock, she forced herself to listen to a reading Binns, in hope that time would
go faster.
“As you all
remember, in our previous lesson we discussed the war between two of the
strongest families in
Ginny
couldn’t remember at all, and suspected she’d fallen asleep earlier than usual.
“Long before
Hogwarts was built, the two families fought violently against each other for
generations. It was only at the end of their bloodiest battle yet, that each
family’s youngest son looked down at their slain relatives and wept. These two
survivors – Godric of the Gryffindors and Salazar of the Slytherins – were
unable to exact revenge. Their wands had been cursed with the same core, for
they were brother wands and refused to fight against each other.”
Ginny gaped
at him. “Professor,” she said, raising her arm. “Isn’t that what happened to
Harry and You-Know-Who?”
Binns stared
at her and half of her classmates perked up at the mention of Voldemort.
“I deal with
history,” said Binns. “Not the
contents of Witch Weekly.” He resumed his droning speech. “The rest of
The class
resumed their fiddling, many faces turning towards the clock. Ginny looked at
her textbook in renewed interest. She read ahead of Binns, looking for the
brother-wands to be mentioned again, and eventually she found what she was
looking for. However, after skimming the enormous page she felt disappointed.
She’d been hoping to find a way that one of the wands could have beaten the
other. Instead, Godric and Salazar had declared a truce and, together with
Helga Hufflepuff and Rowena Ravenclaw, had used their wands together to build
Hogwarts.
Ginny
followed her classmates’ gazes to the clock. Much to her delight, it was almost
time to go. Perhaps she should read during History of Magic more often. She
picked up her wand to poke Philip Woodley, who was sitting next to her, when
she stopped.
Woodley was
wide awake and immersed in the last third of the book. His lips moved silently
and his face held a look of concentration that Ginny hadn’t seen before. And
yet there was something about his frown that seemed familiar, she thought, as
she put down her wand.
Philip
looked up at her and Ginny realised she’d been staring.
“All right?”
he whispered, giving her a queer look.
“Oh,”
whispered Ginny back, feeling awkward. “Just er…” She wracked her brains for
something normal to say. “Are you looking forward to Hogsmeade tonight?”
Woodley’s
eyes flicked back to his textbook. “I can’t go. I’ve got detention.”
“What?”
exclaimed Ginny. “It’s Hallowe’en!”
Luckily it
was time to go and Ginny’s exclamation was lost in the rush for the door.
“I can’t do
anything about it.” Woodley shrugged but gave her a grin. “Hey, I’ll still be
at the feast though.”
Ginny smiled
back, but couldn’t help but think that Woodley’s smile seemed distant. “See you
then,” she said.
***
Pumpkins and
skeletons hung from the ceiling of the Great Hall, and each table was filled
with laughter and chatter. Nobody noticed a quiet Philip Woodley enter rather
late. Nobody except a pair of cold, grey eyes.
“I’m so
hungry I could eat a stoat sandwich,” declared Ron, his mouth full of pumpkin
pie.
“I know, eet
ees fantastic,” said an exchange student opposite him. “‘Ogwarts certainly ees
not stingy when eet comes to meals!”
“Hear that?”
said Ron proudly, elbowing Hermione in the ribs. “She was complimenting the
house-elves! Aren’t you glad you dropped the whole SPEW thing now? I told you
it was pointless.”
“Thank you,
Ron, for bringing that up,” said Hermione, putting down her utensils and
glaring guiltily at the food before her. “I was feeling hungry too, you know.”
“Well, eat
up,” said Ron generously. “There’s plenty more where that came from.”
Ron winked
at the exchange student, who giggled in return. Hermione frowned and was given
a half-sympathetic look from Harry.
“He’s just
trying to wind you up,” he said laughingly, shaking his head at his distracted
best friend.
“I know,”
said Hermione with a sigh, but then pausing as she noticed that he was smiling
at her. “Harry, you’re…well…smiling!”
Harry Potter
grinned in reply. “So are you,” he replied.
Hermione
felt a strange wave of relief wash over her and she started eating her food
absent-mindedly. “So,” she said. “Have you ever been to a Wizarding concert
before? Or a Muggle one for that matter?”
“Oh, no,”
said Harry cheerily, “ –but
Hermione
laughed. “Neither has Ginny,” she replied. “I once went to a Muggle…er…Harry?”
“What’s a mugooluharrie?” said Ron with interest,
just catching the last half of the conversation.
Hermione
ignored him and looked curiously at Harry. He had stiffened ever so slightly when
she had said Ginny’s name.
“Yeah,
what?” he said awkwardly.
Hermione
gave him a hard look and looked up the table at Ginny, who was sitting with a
bunch of fourth years. “Tell me you didn’t just ask her because of…”
“Give me
some credit, Hermione,” said Harry wearily. “Malfoy had nothing to do with it.
Can we just drop it?”
Ron looked
at them both inquiringly and waved his fork in front of their faces. “Cheer up,
it’s Hallowe’en! Hogsmeade tonight!”
Harry smiled
faintly at him but Hermione snapped, “Oh, do shut up, Ron!”
Ron blinked
at her and resumed eating, looking slightly offended and turning back to the
exchange student.
On the other
side of the Great Hall, Draco Malfoy irritably mashed at his pumpkin, reducing
it to a runny pulp.
“What is it,
Draco?” asked Severus, picking up his goblet and toasting an enthusiastic
Slytherin third year. “I finally sit over here for dinner and all you do is
stare into space.”
Draco
grunted, the other boy’s unusually good mood irritating him more. “I’m going
for a walk,” he announced sullenly. “Meet you in the Entrance Hall after the
feast.”
Severus
frowned at him and looked doubtfully at the bunch of Slytherins next to him. To
his surprise, Blaise Zabini nodded genially at him and raised his goblet for a
toast. Snape smiled slightly back and was about to nod to Draco when he noticed
he was gone.
Happy
Hallowe’en to you too,
Mr Malfoy, he thought to himself, feeling slightly offended.
***
“You!
Woodley! Wait there a second!”
Draco cursed
as the slim fourth year quickened his pace and disappeared up a flight of
stairs.
“Woodley!”
he yelled again, feeling distinctly annoyed.
Seeing the
boy arrive late for dinner had reminded him about that case of awful groaning
again. He’d been feeling rather tetchy and restless and thought that
confronting Woodley would be a welcome distraction. Draco continued bounding up
the stairs, rounding a corner and stopping at a big wooden door, startled to
find himself at the Trophy Room again.
Frowning as
he shoved the door open, Draco strode straight into the centre of the room and
stared at a huddled figure on the floor.
“Hullo,”
said Philip Woodley, getting up and holding out a scrubbing brush. “Come to
help?”
Draco’s lip
curled and he snapped, “Why didn’t you answer me before?”
“I had
detention,” said Woodley expressionlessly. “Couldn’t be late.”
“You have
detention on Hallowe’en?” scoffed Draco. “What in hell did you do?”
Woodley
smiled faintly at him and went back to scrubbing the enormous, marble tiles. “Well,
what did you want?” he asked, ignoring the previous question.
Draco
frowned down at him, and crossed his arms. “Remember that day I ran into you
here?” Woodley shrugged. “Well, while I was outside the door I heard a horrible
groaning noise—”
“—That was
me,” said Woodley promptly.
Draco
narrowed his eyes. “What the hell was wrong
with you?”
A sudden
coolness rose in Woodley’s green eyes that seemed to infuriate Draco even more.
“Know that
I’m watching you, Woodley.” Draco scowled. “And don’t think I don’t
notice the way you look at Ginny.”
Woodley
remained silent for a long time, his eyes still filled with the indifferent
coolness before he spoke. “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he said
quietly. “And what do you care?”
Draco’s
scowl deepened, though forcing himself to step backwards as a tall shadow fell
over him.
“Why, Mr
Malfoy! Aren’t you going to Hogsmeade for the evening?”
Albus
Dumbledore stood in the doorway, looking quite hard at Draco and just seeming
to notice Philip Woodley as well. “Mr Woodley, I daresay your friends are
waiting for you also.”
“But I’ve
got—”
“It’s
Hallowe’een,” said Dumbledore, waving his hand. “I’m sure whoever gave you the
detention will understand.”
Woodley
tried to protest once more and Dumbledore gave him a hard look.
Draco
glanced from Woodley to Dumbledore and left the room. As he strode down the
stairs, he cursed himself for bringing up Ginny. Woodley was right; he really didn’t
care about that stupid Weasley.
Draco was
soon down in the Entrance Hall. There was only one cloaked figure left, tapping
his foot impatiently and glaring at Draco when he came up.
“What took
you so long?” grumbled Severus. “I’ve been waiting for ages!”
Draco shook
himself, and concentrated on his best friend. “Did you get mobbed by a bunch of
girls again?” he asked, patting him in mock sympathy.
“Yes. It was
horrible.”
Draco
laughed, his arguments temporarily forgotten. “And you’ll still only settle for
that Professor?”
Severus
smirked, twirling his wand between his fingers. “I’m a hard man to please.”
***
“D’you want
a Butterbeer?”
Ginny
Weasley smiled shyly at Harry’s awkward question. “All right.”
Harry
grinned back and went off to the bar. Ginny sighed happily and looked around
the crowded room to the mass of people dancing wildly in time to the live
music. Her smile widened as she caught Hermione’s eye, who was dancing very wildly
and most un-Hermione-like with a suspiciously tipsy Ron. As soon as they had
entered The Three Broomsticks, Hermione had given her and Harry a significant
look and had dragged a rather reluctant Ron onto the dance floor, hissing at
him when he’d given his best friend an alarmed look. Harry and Ginny had sat
down at a tiny table and talked politely for ten minutes, before Harry had just
offered her a drink.
Ginny’s
smile quirked as she noticed that one of the band members had picked up a pair
of bagpipes, and was now playing them quite loudly. Lucky Draco wasn’t here,
she thought to herself. He would have a fit.
Harry soon
came back, interrupting her thoughts with two mugs of sloshing Butterbeer.
Ginny picked up a mug but her gaze soon drifted wistfully to the happy throng
of dancing people.
Oh,
please, Harry, she
thought longingly to herself, please ask me to—
“Dance?”
asked Harry with a quiet smile. “D’you want to?”
Ginny looked
at him, feeling strangely startled but satisfied at the same time. “I’d love
to,” she said, her voice louder than expected.
Harry
grinned once more and walked hesitantly to the dance floor. Ginny followed him,
just as hesitantly, and Harry was rather relieved to find themselves next to
Hermione and Ron. Ron greeted them uproariously and slapped them on the back
rather hard.
“C’mon,
Harry! It’s my favourite song!” he yelled, grabbing his and Hermione’s hands
and starting to jump around wildly once more.
Harry caught
Hermione’s eye and they both started to laugh. Hermione grabbed one of Ginny’s
hands and soon she was in the circle too, also feeling giddy from laughing and
moving to the quickening tune. The cheering crowd soon parted away and clapped
their hands to the beat, as the four laughing friends spun faster and faster.
But the smallest of the Weasleys threw back her head and laughed the loudest.
She was finally accepted. She wasn’t just Ron’s little sister anymore. She was
now one of Harry Potter’s friends.
***
“Lumos.”
Severus and
Draco raised their eyebrows at the massive toes lit up by the glow.
“Hullo,”
said Snape pleasantly, craning his neck upwards. “Seen anyone suspicious?”
The sleepy-looking
giant bared his broken yellow teeth in reply.
Draco
sniggered slightly and yanked on Severus’s shoulder. “Trust you to try and
start a conversation with a giant,” he said. “Now c’mon, it’s nearly nine
o’clock.”
“What’s that
supposed to mean?” said Severus, shaking him off with dignity.
“Professor
Garwood, remember?”
“I know
that,” said Severus, annoyed. “I meant, what did you mean with that ‘giant’
comment?”
“Oh, you
know,” said Draco vaguely. “I’ve seen you talking to a centaur, Hagrid’s weird
animals, and not to mention that bloody weird cat of yours! Where is it,
anyway?”
“I had to
leave her in the dormitory. She’s all jumpy tonight and hisses at anyone
who goes near her.”
“Tonight?”
muttered Draco under his breath. “Sounds like normal behaviour to me…” He
turned towards the direction of The Three Broomsticks. “It’s freezing out here,
let’s go.”
It had
rained quite hard that afternoon, and the dirt paths sloshed with puddles.
Draco walked a few paces when he realised that Severus wasn’t following him. He
turned around to be met with a wet splat of mud on the front of his robes.
“That,” said
Severus, cleaning his hands with a smirk, “is for the Muggle Studies casting
session.”
To his
surprise, Draco smirked right back at him and whipped out his wand. “As soon as
it started raining I knew you were going to pull something like this!”
Draco flicked his wand. “So I came prepared! Canum conicio!”
Severus gave
a yell as he was pummelled in the back by a gigantic self-created ball of mud.
Glaring at Draco, he also whipped out his wand and repeated Draco’s spell. To
the Slytherin’s dismay, an equally large mud-ball started to rise up at
himself.
“It took me
ages to learn that!” yelled Draco crossly, before getting knocked to the ground
slightly winded and horribly dirty.
Each of them
started yelling the spell over and over again, until they could no longer watch
the other boy get hit but barely had any time to avoid them themselves.
“Oh, dear,”
said a stern voice, making them stop suddenly and barrelled over by the
remaining balls of mud. “Not fighting again, are we?”
The boys
groaned silently and Severus gave Draco a warning look. “Don’t say it.”
“This is all
your fault,” Draco muttered, digging him in the ribs with his wand.
Professor
Garwood eyed the two of them covered head-to-toe in mud and scuffling to get
up. Unable to help herself, she burst out laughing and held out a red woollen
mitten. “Since it’s Hallowe’en and you’re not on Hogwarts grounds, I think I
may excuse you this once,” she said, as she pulled up Draco and then offered
Severus her hand.
Severus
looked uncertainly at her and took it gingerly. The Professor started to pull
him up when Severus stumbled forwards into a puddle and found himself on his
stomach, lying directly on top of a ruffled-looking Garwood.
“Gah!” he
yelled, hastily trying to clamber off her without squashing her any further
into the mud. He finally managed to roll away when he hit the shiny black boots
of a certain Slytherin.
“Need any
help?” asked Draco, suspiciously sounding as if he was holding back a laugh.
Snape
pummelled one of the boots for good measure and awkwardly got up, hating the
way he seemed so clumsy all of a sudden.
He took a
deep breath and turned to face her. To his surprise Draco, who was smiling in a
most charming way, was already helping her up. Severus glanced at her face,
wondering if she was angry. As if in response to his expression, she burst into
laughter once more.
“Oh, dear!”
said Garwood. “You look as if you’re expecting a whole week of detentions!”
Severus made
an odd, strangled noise in the back of his throat. Draco caught his eye and
looked meaningfully from the strangely-deep puddle to his glowing wand. Just
trying to help, he mouthed.
Severus clenched
his fists, wanting desperately to throttle him. Garwood looked at him in
concern. “Are you all right, Mr Snape?” She pulled out her wand and waved them
both clean. “You look quite pale, are you cold?”
“What? Oh!
No! Er…”
Snape
paused, feeling a slight flush rise from his neck.
“Oh, good.”
Garwood smiled. “Your colour seems to be coming back. Now, how about those
Butterbeers?”
Seeing the
way Severus was gritting his teeth at him, Draco dashed ahead hurriedly,
calling out he’d save them seats. Severus mentally groaned but forced himself
to slink next to Garwood, who was travelling at a much more leisurely pace.
***
Harry
returned from the bar with three more mugs of Butterbeer and one tall glass of
water.
“No, Ron,”
said Hermione disapprovingly, as Ron Weasley reached for a mug. “You’ve already
had nineteen, you need some water.”
Ron grinned
at her and lolled his head on her shoulder. “Why d’you hate me?” he complained,
as Harry started chuckling.
The music
was still going wildly but the four friends had decided to take a break and
catch their breath a while. Some of Ginny’s fourth year friends started to call
her, and Harry waved her away with a smile.
“I’ll join
you later,” he said, trying to find something Hermione could transfigure into a
cushion for Ron. “Have some fun!”
Ginny beamed
back at him. Life with Harry was already so fun, she thought.
She was just
about to join her friends when her eyes turned strangely to the door, a gust of
cold air sweeping in as it opened. Draco Malfoy entered, his eyes bright and
his face flushed as if he’d been running. Making his way to the bar, Ginny
noticed that his usually swept-back hair was slightly tousled, and the left
part of his fringe flopped over his forehead.
Ginny looked
around at Harry but he was still preoccupied by a dozing Ron, who was now being
eyed mischievously by Fred and George. Her friends had all seemed to have
paired off anyway, as a slow song was being played.
A very
romantic song… she
thought wistfully.
Ginny rubbed
her palm slightly as she made her way to the long counter. “Hey, Draco,” she
said, taking a stool next to him.
“Oh, hullo,”
he said unenthusiastically. “D’you want a drink or something?”
“No,” said
Ginny with a sigh, watching the slowly swaying couples. “I’m fine, thanks.”
Draco
followed her gaze and looked at her oddly. “Why aren’t you out there?” he
asked, tossing a few sickles at the bartender. “You know, enjoying yourself.”
Ginny met
his gaze and looked suddenly startled. “Er…I was enjoying… I mean, but now…I
don’t know…I don’t know!” She frowned. “What happened to me?”
“Weird,”
said Draco. He yawned. “Well, got to go. See you.”
Ginny
frowned at his abrupt speech and grabbed at his shoulder. “Wait.”
Draco
frowned at her hand and Ginny hastily pulled it away, giving him an annoyed
look.
“Aren’t you
going to dance?” she continued, motioning towards the hearty band onstage. “I
mean, they’re never going to come here again, you might as well—”
“Maybe…”
said Draco suddenly, moving his face so close to hers that she stopped in mid-sentence
and shivered at his warm breath next to her ear, “–some other time,” he
finished off coolly, and strode away.
Ginny sat
stock still for a while, only moving when Colin Creevey pulled her onto the
dance floor and started to sway alongside her to the music. She looked over
Colin’s shoulders and her gaze rested on Harry, who was smiling at her and
waving. A couple soon obstructed her view and she saw that it was Hermione,
dancing with an exchange sixth year. She looked away instantly, trying to forget
the older girl’s words the day before…
“…I mean, you think you know them until
they do something so unexpected…that you start to question not
only them…but yourself…”
***
A/N: ‘Canum conicio’ – latin words for mud throw.