The Fire You Touch

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Chapter 23: That Same Pit

Aeryn pulled her black robe over her head and looked at herself in the infirmary mirror. It was Friday, and the bruises marring her body had faded to a pale saffron. Madam Pomfrey had decided on the last day of the term that Aeryn was well enough to be integrated back into normal Hogwarts life. Aeryn ran a finger beneath her eyes, as if she could wipe away the dark circles hollowing the sockets. With a shrug, she turned away from the mirror and picked up her wand from the bedside table. As she did, her eyes drifted to the dark forms in the beds beside hers, and a frown creased her face.

Madam Pomfrey waved her wand, and the rumpled sheets on Aeryn's bed were instantly gone. "You'll need to take the potion I gave you twice a day, in the morning and before you go to bed," she explained, re-sheeting the bed with another wave of her wand.

Aeryn walked between the beds and stared down soberly at the two newest additions to the infirmary. The rumors were as thick as honey in the Hogwarts air, and Aeryn had heard every one: Harry Potter was a Parselmouth and quite frequently talked with snakes; Harry Potter hated Muggles, it was obvious, he complained nonstop about the ones he lived with; and--the most unbelievable rumor of all--Harry Potter was the Heir of Slytherin, and had opened the Chamber of Secrets!

Aeryn knew for a fact that the rumors were a load of bunk, but the school had been sent into a panic after Harry Potter, the famous Harry Potter, Dumbledore's pet Harry Potter, had been found in the hallway with a Petrified Justin Finch-Fletchley and Nearly Headless Nick at his feet. Although Harry had been sent to Headmaster Dumbledore's office, and nothing had happened to him--the very thought of Harry Petrifying anyone was beyond ridiculous--the students of Hogwarts had been thrown into a tizzy. Poor Harry was avoided like a troll by everyone, save for the Weasleys, Hermione, and Aeryn.

Aeryn reached out and very gently trailed her fingertips across Justin's face, frozen in a mask of shock.

"Have you been raped, Miss Blake?" Madam Pomfrey asked in a very quiet voice.

Aeryn froze, her fingers suddenly cold. She turned around slowly, a wave of nausea spreading through her. "Wha...what?"

Madam Pomfrey's face was expressionless. "I examined your wounds thoroughly when you were brought in, Miss Blake, and some of the...injuries..." She coughed awkwardly. "There was definite bruising pattern that...made me suspect..."

A heavy buzzing droned in Aeryn's ears. She shook her head frantically, feeling the blood rise in her cheeks. "No," she said in a dull voice. "No, I...haven't been raped."

Madam Pomfrey's lips twisted, and she took a hesitant step forward. "Miss Blake...rape can be defined in many different ways, and is found in many different situations." She placed a hand on Aeryn's arm. "It is not just when a man attacks a woman and--"

"I know what rape is, Madam," Aeryn said harshly, pulling away from the school nurse's touch. Boy, do I ever. She looked into Madam Pomfrey's face, feeling bile rise in her throat. She wanted so badly to say it had been Snape, to tell someone what he had done to her...but he took Veritaserum, the tiny voice in her head protested, and the words died in her throat. She gritted her teeth. "It was...consensual sex." The words chafed in her throat.

A flash of emotion crossed the school nurse's face; a mixture of displeasure, disgust, and--Aeryn bit her lip--doubt. "May I enquire as to--"

"No," Aeryn snapped. She turned quickly away, unable to look at the older woman's face. Blindly, she reached out again for Justin's face. His frozen expression mirrored the emotions in her own heart...she must not speak...must not....

After a long, tense moment, Madam Pomfrey cleared her throat nervously. "Now, if you feel ill again--even the slightest bit weak--you're to come to me immediately," the school nurse said in a voice that fell just short of its normal vibrancy.

Aeryn reached out her other hand and held it a fraction above Nearly Headless Nick's visage. His normally pearl-white translucency was black and charred.

Behind her, Madam Pomfrey sighed. "Poor things," she murmured sympathetically. "As soon as Daisy's Mandrakes mature, we'll be able to get them well--but, still, it's such a shame--and especially at Christmas, their poor families...." The school nurse appeared at her shoulder. She shook her head gently and heaved another sigh. "You're going home for Christmas, aren't you, dear?" she asked.

The air above Nick's skin was chill, and Aeryn was reminded of raking her fingers through a bucket of ice. She looked at his face, then Justin's, then at Colin's in the last bed. Very slowly, she shook her head. "No," she said. "I'm staying here at Hogwarts."

* * *

At last the term ended, and a silence deep as the snow on the grounds descended on the castle. After the double attack on Justin and Nearly Headless Nick, there had been a stampede of students to book seats on the Hogwarts Express, leaving Harry, Hermione, Aeryn, and the Weasleys the run of Gryffindor Tower.

"We're the only ones left," Ron moaned to Harry, Hermione, and Aeryn over a game of Exploding Snap. "Us, Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle. What a jolly holiday this is." But the shy smile he shot at Aeryn belied his grumbled words. The three Gryffindors had nearly been beside themselves with joy when they found out that Aeryn had decided to spend Christmas with them and help with the Polyjuice Potion.

Christmas morning dawned cold and white. Aeryn was awakened rudely when her sheets were suddenly grabbed by a pair of hands and pulled off her sleeping body.

"Hermione," Aeryn groaned, curling up into a little ball against the chill air.

"Joyeux Noel," the bushy-haired girl said briskly, throwing open the curtains. Aeryn winced as the sunlight came streaming into the room. "Come on now, you can't still be tired. I've been up for nearly an hour. Let's go see the boys."

"Sadist," Aeryn grumbled under her breath. But she obligingly stretched, wiped the sleep from her eyes, and pulled out a small pile of brightly wrapped packages from beneath her bed. Thanks to her stint in the infirmary, Aeryn had been unable to go Christmas shopping for her friends, but the helpful Oliver Wood had been more than happy to play errand-boy. A small, exasperated smile twitched Aeryn's lips. Although his puppy-dog love was slightly annoying, Aeryn had to admit that the boy was endearing.

Harry and Ron, the only ones left in their dormitory, flinched as Hermione bounded into their room and pulled back the curtains at the window.

"Hermione--you're not supposed to be in here--" said Ron, shielding his eyes against the light.

"Merry Christmas to you, too," said Hermione, throwing him his present.

Harry rolled his eyes despairingly towards Aeryn. "Make her go away," he pleaded.

"Sorry," Aeryn yawned, flopping down wearily on Harry's four-poster. "I've heard it's dangerous to get in the way of a madwoman."

Hermione stuck her tongue out at Aeryn and shifted Scabbers the rat so that she could sit down on the end of Ron's bed. "I've been up for nearly an hour, adding more lacewings to the potion. It's ready."

Aeryn, Ron, and Harry all sat up, suddenly wide awake.

"Are you sure?" asked Harry.

Hermione nodded. "Positive. If we're going to do it, I say it should be tonight."

Harry and Ron glanced nervously at each other, but before they could say anything, Aeryn thrust a set of packages under their noses. "Stop it," she said sternly. "I refuse to let my first Christmas at Hogwarts start off with you two looking like scared little first years." A sly grin lit her face. "You can save that expression for when I cream you in the snowball fight this afternoon."

For the next half hour, the four friends occupied themselves with opening their Christmas parcels with the occasional oooh or ahhh. Aeryn hadn't received such enjoyable Christmas presents in five years. Hagrid had sent her a charming wooden bracelet that looked as if he had carved it himself, and Aeryn smiled sheepishly as she unwrapped a lovely pair of leather gloves from Oliver Wood. A delicate teacup and saucer made of bone china was from Professor Sprout--along with a small note saying that she hoped Aeryn felt better and an invitation to tea over the holiday. Fred and George's lumpy package exploded in her hands with a burst of confetti, causing Aeryn to shriek, but turned out to be a large box of Chocolate Frogs. As Aeryn unwrapped her last package, she groaned--and a cheerfully waving picture of Gilderoy Lockhart beamed up at her from beneath his loopy signature, scrawled in vibrant blue ink.

"You're not done yet," Ron exclaimed quickly as Aeryn flung the photograph like a Frisbee to the end of the bed. "We've still got something for you."

Harry leapt from his bed and threw open his trunk. Aeryn raised a startled eyebrow as he breathlessly handed her a large, flat package.

"It's from all three of us," Hermione said as Aeryn carefully tore the wrapping off. "It's sort of a belated Get Well and Christmas present, since we didn't get you anything when you were sick..."

Aeryn drew in a sharp breath as the paper fell away and she was left holding a beautifully framed picture. A gentle-faced, mahogany haired woman with a brilliant smile hugged a tanned, handsome man with slate-blue eyes. It was a familiar portrait; it had been taken when Aeryn's parents went on their honeymoon, and it had sat beside Aeryn's bed every night after she moved to England. But something was drastically different. The colors were more vibrant, the image sharper...Aeryn's hands trembled suddenly as the two figures looked up at her and waved.

"How..." Aeryn's vision blurred as the image of her mother blew her a kiss. "How...did you..."

"Well, it did take a while," Ron said, grinning broadly. "Harry's actually the one who thought of it, 'cause he knew you had a picture of your parents with you--"

"--But we only thought of it because Ron said that Bill had done something like this before," Harry explained, pointing at his friend. "So we got the picture out of your dorm--"

"--It would have worked better if you'd had some negatives here, but this turned out okay, too--"

"--It wasn't too hard to make the potion," Hermione said, "and Professor McGonagall was able to get me some enchanted photography paper so I could transfer the image of your original photograph."

"Once we got all the ingredients," said Harry, "Professor Flitwick let Ron and me use his darkroom and we developed the picture." He looked down at the photograph and grinned. "It actually turned out well, didn't it?"

The image of Roger Blake winked up at his daughter and mouthed the words I love you.

Hermione ran a finger across the delicately carved oak frame. "Ron's mum got this for us," she explained. "The wood's enchanted so that the picture won't fade, no matter how long you keep it. And the glass is shatterproof, so you won't have to worry about knocking it on the floor."

Aeryn hugged the picture to her chest, too moved to speak. But, judging from the looks on her friends' faces, that was thanks enough.

* * *

The Great Hall looked magnificent. Not only were there a dozen frost-covered Christmas trees and thick streamers of holly and mistletoe crisscrossing the ceiling, but enchanted snow was falling, warm and dry, from the ceiling.

Fat, roast turkeys graced the tables; mountains of roast and boiled potatoes loomed from between platters of chipolatas, tureens of buttered peas, and silver boats of thick, rich gravy and cranberry sauce. Stacks of wizard crackers were scattered every few feet along the table. Aeryn pulled a cracker and jumped as it didn't just bang, it exploded with a blast like a cannon and engulfed them all in a cloud of blue smoke, while from inside exploded a rear admiral's hat and several live, white mice. By the time the flaming Christmas puddings arrived, Aeryn and Hermione were wearing a jester's cap and a racing helmet, respectively, and Ron and Harry had both donned traditional Beefeater hats.

Percy Weasley, who hadn't noticed that Fred had bewitched his prefect badge so that it now read "Pinhead," kept asking them all what they were sniggering at. Dumbledore lead them in a few of his favorite carols, Hagrid booming louder and louder with each goblet of eggnog he consumed. Harry, Ron, and Hermione sang their hearts out, but Aeryn contented herself by tapping her spoon against her golden plate and humming softly to herself--she would be the first to admit that her singing resembled birdsong, but she wasn't proud of the fact that the bird was a crow.

A small, relieved smile twitched her lips as she saw Professor Snape's empty seat at the staff table. It appeared as if the Potions master was playing Scrooge for the day. Aeryn couldn't think of a better way to spend Christmas.

Aeryn, Harry, and Ron had barely finished their third helpings of Christmas pudding when Hermione ushered them out of the hall to finalize their plans for the evening.

"We still need a bit of the people you're changing into," said the young witch matter-of-factly. "And, obviously, it'll be best if you boys can get something of Crabbe and Goyle's--they're Malfoy's best friends, he'll tell them anything. And we also need to make sure the real Crabbe and Goyle can't burst in on us while we're interrogating him."

Aeryn chewed on her lip as Hermione explained to Ron and Harry how they were to drug Malfoy's goons with chocolate cakes filled with Sleeping Draught. In theory, the plan sounded good, but it could go seriously wrong. And, she wondered, what was she supposed to do? She wanted to use the Polyjuice Potion and help her friends in their undercover scheme--after all, she already had experience with the mixture--but who could she transform into?

"But what about you and Aeryn?" asked Harry suddenly, as if reading Aeryn's thoughts. "Whose hair are you ripping out?"

Hermione pulled a tiny bottle out of her pocket and showed them the single hair inside it. "Remember Millicent Bulstrode wrestling with me at the Dueling Club? She left this on my robes when she was trying to strangle me. And she's gone home for Christmas--so I'll just have to tell the Slytherins I've decided to come back."

Ron looked at Aeryn, raising his eyebrows questioningly.

"Oh, I've--er--already got mine," Aeryn said hastily, plastering a smile on her face. "When I was in the hospital wing before the end of term, um..." She racked her brain for a familiar face that she hadn't seen at the Slytherin table that afternoon. "...Pansy Parkinson came in because she had...sprained her finger...so when Madam Pomfrey went to fix her up, I just..." The story was horrendously lame, even by Aeryn's standards, but she continued on. "...walked by and picked a stray hair off her robe."

There was silence for a moment.

Hermione shrugged. "Great, then we're all set." She grinned happily, and bustled off to check on the Polyjuice Potion. Ron turned to Harry with a doom-laden expression.

"Have you ever heard of a plan where so many things could go wrong?"

Aeryn secretly agreed.

* * *

While the boys carried out stage one of the operation, Aeryn and Hermione waited in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. Every few minutes, Hermione would stir the cauldron, peering anxiously into the mixture. Aeryn tried not to cough too much as a thick black smoke issued from the bubbling, glutinous potion. She set four glass tumblers on the toilet seat and wiped her brow with her sleeve, wondering what was taking Ron and Harry so long.

There was a knock on the stall door. "Girls?"

Hermione unlocked the door and stepped from the stall. "Did you get them?" she asked breathlessly. Harry showed her the hair. "Good," the young witch beamed, holding up a small sack. "And I sneaked these spare robes out of the laundry. You'll need bigger sizes after you've changed. And this is for you--" as she handed Aeryn a standard-issue black robe.

"Now," Hermione said, nervously rereading the splotched page of Moste Potente Potions, "Once we've drunk it, we'll have exactly one hour before we change back into ourselves."

Harry, Ron, and Aeryn watched silently as Hermione ladled large dollops of the potion into each of the tumblers. Then, her hand trembling, she shook Millicent Bulstrode's hair out of its bottle and into the first glass. The potion hissed and turned a sick sort of yellow.

"Urgh--essence of Millicent Bulstrode," said Ron, eyeing it with loathing. "Bet it tastes disgusting."

"Add yours, then," said Hermione.

Harry and Ron dropped their hairs into respective glasses, and the potions inside frothed madly and turned nauseating colors. Aeryn dropped a hair--one of her own--into the last glass, and curled her hand swiftly around the glass before anyone could comment on the clear, ruby-red color.

"Hang on," said Harry. "We'd better not all drink them in here...once we turn into Crabbe and Goyle, we won't fit...and Millicent Bulstrode's no pixie."

"Good thinking," Ron said, unlocking the door. "We'll take separate stalls."

Aeryn slipped into the second-to-last stall. With very steady fingers, she placed the tumbler on the toilet seat.

"Ready?" came Harry's voice.

"Ready," answered Aeryn, Ron, and Hermione.

Aeryn acted quickly. As she heard her friends groan and writhe as they drank the Polyjuice Potion, she dashed the contents of her tumbler into the toilet. Closing her eyes, she concentrated, drawing upon the image of Pansy Parkinson...stringy blond hair, flopping to her shoulders...thin, pinched white face...watery green eyes....

"Are you three okay?" came Goyle's low rasp of a voice, startling her.

"Yeah," grunted Crabbe's voice.

Aeryn cautiously unlocked the stall door and stepped in front of the cracked mirror. Crabbe and Goyle were already standing before her, gaping at their reflections and prodding their features disbelievingly.

"Wow," Ron/Crabbe said, his dull eyes looking Aeryn over. "That's unbelievable."

Aeryn peeked quickly into the mirror. Pansy Parkinson scowled back at her, and Aeryn breathed a silent sigh of relief. Her illusion would work.

"We'd better get going," she murmured softly, doing her best to imitate Pansy's weak, high-pitched voice.

"We've still go to find out where the Slytherin common room is," said Harry/Goyle, loosening his watch. "I only hope we can find someone to follow..."

Aeryn wisely kept Pansy's mouth shut.

Ron banged on Hermione's stall. "C'mon, we need to go--"

A high pitched voice answered him. "I--I don't think I'm going to come out after all. You guys go on without me."

"Hermione, we know Millicent Bulstrode's ugly, no one's going to know it's you--"

"No--really--I don't think I'll come. You three hurry up, you're wasting time--"

"Hermione, are you okay?" said Aeryn through the door.

"Fine--I'm fine--go on--"

Aeryn wasn't convinced, but a glance at Harry's watch showed that five of their precious sixty minutes had passed. "We'll meet you back here, all right?" Harry said, and he, Aeryn, and Ron slithered from the bathroom.

As the boys discussed how Crabbe and Goyle were supposed to walk, Aeryn lead them down the marble staircase. Of course, she knew how to get to the Slytherin common room, but to lead them there herself would probably bring more questions than it was worth...if only they could find a Slytherin to follow...

"Any ideas?" muttered Harry.

There was no one coming. Aeryn decided to risk it. "The Slytherins always come up to breakfast from over there," she said, pointing to the entrance to the dungeons. "It can't be too hard to find on our own."

Harry and Ron, after a quick look at each other, followed her down the stone steps into darkness. The labyrinthine corridors were deserted. Aeryn bit her lip as they walked deeper and deeper under the school. Nearly a quarter hour had passed, and the boys were beginning to look desperate.

She gritted her teeth and veered around a corner. "Let's try this way," she said over her shoulder, her feet slapping against the stone floor. Her shoulders hunched as she turned another corner--they were very close to the common room now. They needed a real Slytherin, and they needed one now, before Aeryn started answering questions she couldn't afford to--

"There you are!"

Crabbe, Goyle, and Aeryn turned. Draco Malfoy was strolling towards them, and for the first time in her life, Aeryn was thrilled to see him.

"Have you two been pigging out in the Great Hall all this time?" he asked Ron and Harry. "I've been looking for you. I want to show you something really funny."

He glanced at Aeryn, and a flicker of surprise crossed his face.

"What are you doing back, Parkinson? Thought you were spending the holidays in Sweden."

Aeryn tossed her head. "I got bored," she said loftily, shrugging her now-thin shoulders.

Malfoy sniggered. "Don't blame you--your family's a real snooze. Well, good, I'll show you, too." He sauntered down the hallway, and the three Gryffindors hurried after him.

He paused by a stretch of bare, damp wall. "What's the new password again?" he said to Harry.

"Er--" said Harry.

Malfoy turned to Ron, who looked suitably bewildered. "This is ridiculous," Malfoy muttered. "Parkinson? D'you have any guess?"

Aeryn strove not to flinch. She knew the password, of course--Snape had given her an entire list of passwords to memorize--but she wouldn't say it, couldn't say it...her friends' tense faces made her glance back down at her watch. She was acutely aware of every precious minute ticking away.

Malfoy slammed his hand against the wall. "If none of you know it, we'll just go up to the Great Hall and--"

"Pure-blood," Aeryn said automatically, not looking at either Ron or Harry as the concealed stone door slid open. Malfoy marched through it, and Harry, Ron, and Aeryn followed him into the Slytherin common room.

"Wait here," said Malfoy, motioning them to a pair of empty chairs set back from the fire. "I'll go and get it--my father's just sent it to me--" He hurried through a door at the side of the room.

Ron leaned forward once Malfoy disappeared from view. "How'd you know the password?" he hissed to Aeryn.

Aeryn nervously shook her head and put a finger to her lips as Malfoy reappeared, holding what looked like a newspaper clipping. He thrust it under Ron's nose. "That'll give you a laugh," he said.

Aeryn saw Ron's eyes widen in shock. He read the clipping very quickly, gave a forced laugh, and handed it to Harry. Harry also read it silently, and handed it to Aeryn.

"Well? Don't you think it's funny?" said Malfoy impatiently to the boys as Aeryn read the clipping. It had been clipped from the Daily Prophet, and Aeryn's jaw clenched as she read the story. Ron's father had been fined fifty Galleons for bewitching a car--the car that Ron and Harry had used to fly to Hogwarts. There was a particularly nasty quote from Malfoy's father, saying that Mr. Weasley had "brought the ministry into disrepute," and that he was "clearly unfit to draw up our laws."

"Arthur Weasley loves Muggles so much he should snap his wand in half and go join them," said Malfoy scornfully.

Ron's face was contorted in fury.

"What's up with you, Crabbe?" snapped Malfoy.

"Stomachache," Ron grunted.

"Well, go up to the hospital wing and give all those Mudbloods a kick from me," Malfoy said, snickering. "You know, I'm surprised the Daily Prophet hasn't reported all these attacks yet--I suppose Dumbledore's trying to hush it all up. He'll be sacked if he doesn't stop soon. Father's always said old Dumbledore's the worst thing that every happened to this place. He loves Muggle-borns. A decent headmaster would never've let slime like that Creevey in."

Malfoy started taking pictures with an imaginary camera and did a cruel but accurate impression of Colin. Aeryn clenched her fists and turned her head away from his leering face before she gave herself away.

A door at the end of the room swung suddenly open, and Aeryn's eyes grew cold as a familiar figure walked in. He walked towards the fire, the light pooling in his angular features. His glittering black eyes swept over the students in the common room as Malfoy continued talking to Ron and Harry, and stopped on Aeryn's enchanted face.

"Miss Parkinson." Professor Snape crooked a finger towards Aeryn. Aeryn could feel hot blood rising in her cheeks. Slowly, she got to her feet and walked towards the Potions master. She forced herself to breathe normally as she lifted Pansy Parkinson's eyes to his face.

"Yes, Professor?" she asked stiffly.

"Miss Parkinson, I need you to do something for me." He was leaning against the fireplace, and Aeryn noticed the beads of sweat rolling down his pale face. His glistening eyes were fever-bright, and as he lifted a hand to pull a clumped strand of hair from his face, she could see him trembling violently. He licked his cracked lips. "Go to Gryffindor Tower and tell Miss Blake that I want to see her. Now."

Aeryn--or, rather, Pansy--froze. "What?"

The Potions master winced, and his fingers curled against his black robe. "Tell her to meet me--immediately--in my office," he gasped, his sallow face draining of all color.

Aeryn stared at him with unabashed loathing.

"Do it now, Miss Parkinson," Snape hissed sharply, his eyes regaining a fraction of their usual iciness.

Aeryn took a step back. Behind her, she heard a loud "Ho!" from Ron, and a clatter that sounded as if the two boys had leapt to their feet. The hour must be up. Aeryn's lips tightened and she whirled on her heel, dashing from the Slytherin common room after her friends.

A smoldering rage rose in her body with every step that she took back up the marble staircase. He dared--after all that he had done--to summon her yet again--

A red miasma began to swim before her eyes as she stalked into Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. Harry was checking his now-normal face in the cracked mirror while Ron pounded on the door of Hermione's stall.

"Hermione, come out, we've got loads to tell you--"

"Go away!" Hermione squeaked.

Moaning Myrtle glided suddenly through the stall door, looking positively gleeful. "Ooooooh, wait 'till you see--it's awful--" the ghost said.

The lock slid back and Hermione emerged, sobbing, her robes pulled up over her head.

"What's up?" said Ron uncertainly. "Have you still got Millicent's nose or something?"

Hermione let her robes fall back, and Ron backed into the sink. Her face was covered in black fur. Her eyes had turned yellow, and there were long, pointed ears poking through her hair. "It was a c-cat hair!" she howled. "M-Millicent Bulstrode m-must have a cat! And the p-potion isn't supposed to be used for animal transformations!"

"You'll be teased something dreadful," said Myrtle happily.

Aeryn regarded her witch friend calmly, as if she were merely watching a scene unfold in a movie. "Take her to Madam Pomfrey," she said in a quiet voice that was not her own, taking a step forward. "She never asks too many questions."

Harry turned to look at her, and his bottle-green eyes widened slightly. "How come you're still transformed?" he asked warily.

Aeryn's eyes flickered to the cracked mirror. She was still wearing the illusion of Pansy Parkinson. With an impassive face, she let the illusion slide from her shoulders like an old coat, ignoring the sudden gasps from her friends. Even Hermione stopped sobbing long enough to gape at her.

Aeryn stretched out an open hand. "Give me your pocketknife, Ron."

Ron's face blanched beneath his mop of red hair. "What for?"

"I've got some unfinished business with Professor Snape." Aeryn's body felt very cold.

Ron clamped his hand protectively over his pocket. "How did you change like that just now?" he asked in a shaky voice.

Aeryn's lips firmed in a line of displeasure. "I don't have time for this, Ron," she muttered, taking a step towards him.

Ron shook his head and backed up. "You're acting really weird, Aeryn," he said bravely, with only a small quaver in his voice. "What's this all about?"

She didn't have time for this. A snarl twitched Aeryn's lips, and with a small jerk of her head, Ron's hand pulled back from his pocket and his folded knife flew from his pocket into Aeryn's outstretched palm. "Get Hermione to the hospital wing," she said in a low voice, starting for the bathroom door.

"No!" Harry cried suddenly, his voice splintering like glass in Aeryn's eardrums.

Aeryn paused, her fingers tightening around the knife.

"Ron's right, Aeryn." Harry's robe rustled as he walked towards her. Very slowly, Aeryn turned to look at him. His green eyes were very bright beneath his unruly hair. She saw him swallow hard, and lift his chin stubbornly. "We want some answers."

A distant hum buzzed faintly in her ears. "You don't know what you're asking, Harry."

Her friend clenched his thin hands into fists. "I want to know what it is, right now," he demanded. "Like now, when you--your transformation--"

"Stop," she hissed, whirling on her heel, away from him.

"How did you know the password to the Slytherin common room, Aeryn?" he said suddenly.

Aeryn's hand stopped inches from the door.

"And none of us had ever been down there before, so how was it that you happened to find the way down there?"

The muscles in Aeryn's back knotted.

Harry's voice became stronger. "You've been acting oddly ever since school began, Aeryn," he exclaimed. "You--you're quiet, you're secretive, you sneak out of Gryffindor Tower at night..." He snorted; a harsh, explosive sound. "Not to mention Potions class--the day you ended up in the infirmary--"

Aeryn's hands clenched.

"You attacked a teacher," Harry continued accusingly. "And you said something to him in class--'whatever problems you have with my friends, you take it out on me, not them, you promised--' What did that mean, Aeryn?"

Aeryn's breathing came quick and heavy in her chest, and she closed her eyes, struggling to hold on to what little control she had. Breathe, just breathe...stay calm...

"What is going on between you and Snape?" Harry asked in a low, hard voice, and the words were like salt water poured on the raw surface of Aeryn's soul.

She spun on her heel, her slate-blue eyes blazing with intense fury. "Do you want to know?" she spat, drawing herself up to her full height. "FINE!" With a savage snarl, she threw her hands up in front of her and a telepathic tidal wave of pent-up memories and emotions hurtled towards the three young Gryffindors.

Mutants...witch hunt...the owl, it looks just like Dad's...a despairing joy filled her when the faces of her parents' killers turned pale as she pulled away their power--she had taken just enough of her father's power to make his wand shoot sparks; she was magical, but only just--

"You have been accepted to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry" --

Illusions and mind-manipulation...it was almost like magic--

"You would have been an...exquisite...addition to Slytherin House." His cold eyes slowly traced the beading at the neck of her robe--

His hands were resting far too comfortably on her shoulders, and the gleam in his coal-black eyes as he stared at her in the mirror sent alarm signals through her body--

"No more subterfuge, Miss Blake. I am tired of my advances being ignored--"

"Quid pro quo, Miss Blake--You will not attack me with any of your mutant powers, or I swear that I will kill you. Do you understand--"

I...ACCEPT...

"Seventy points...for Gryffindor--"

The macabre parody of a kiss he pressed to her lips every night as she left his chambers, a claim of total ownership, a gesture of cruelty and utter contempt that was more painful than a dagger's thrust--

His fists smashing into her face and body with superhuman force..."How dare you attack me, you little bitch--"

"You can't tell them if you're dead," he said evenly, with stoic, lucid eyes--

"Avada Ked--" There was a loud crunch--he crumpled on the ground like a limp rag and did not move--

Aeryn pulled the flood of memories back, drew them back into her mind with a soft hiss. She could feel the thin sheen of sweat beading her brow as she shoved Ron's knife into the pocket of her robe.

The faces of her friends were terrible to look upon. Hermione's now-yellow eyes were open wide in shock, and Ron's mouth gaped open in a horrified "O." Even Myrtle was gurgling morosely, her hollow eyes goggling at Aeryn--and Harry--his face--

Aeryn looked away quickly.

"You're a...mutant..." choked Ron.

Aeryn's hands were trembling, and a fury as hot and painful as smoldering coals pulsed through her veins.

"Get Hermione to the infirmary," she whispered in a terrible voice and, fingering the knife in her pocket, stalked out of the bathroom.