The Fire You Touch

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Chapter 38: And Wringing Of Hands

Aeryn stroked her hand listlessly across the coverlet of her bed. The texture of the scarlet wool was rough beneath her fingers, yet she continued to stroke it, feeling it rasp against her skin, dulling the sensitivity of her fingertips with the repetitive motion. She was lying facedown on her bed, and she knew that, if and when she decided to get up, the latticework of the coverlet would be tatted across her cheek, looking as if she had just been branded with a waffle iron.

“Do you want to do something?” Harry asked softly.

Aeryn tapped her fingernails across the coverlet, hearing the barely-audible thuds as the material gave slightly. “No.”

“Want anything to eat?” Hermione asked after a hesitant pause.

Aeryn barked an emotionless laugh. “And go down to the Great Hall to face everyone?” She closed her eyes. “No.”

“We could bring you something….”

“I’m not hungry,” she said, a little more sharply than she had intended.

There was a soft zip of fabric as Aeryn dragged her fingernails over the coverlet.

“Come on, guys,” Ron said quietly, getting to his feet. “Maybe we should just leave her alone.”

As the other two moved to follow Ron’s suggestion, Aeryn’s head jerked up. “No, please….” At any other time she would have winced at the broken desperation in her voice, but now she barely heard it. The three paused and looked back at her, their faces uncertain.

“Can you just…stay with me?” Aeryn tried to give a smile, to reassure them, to let them know that she really was okay, but failed miserably halfway through the attempt. “You can…you can just ignore me, if that makes it easier. Pretend I’m not here. I just….” Her voice trembled slightly and she bit her lip.

“I just don’t want to be alone,” she whispered helplessly.

Hermione instantly reappeared at her side, shooting a half-accusing glare at Ron. “Of course,” the girl murmured, placing her hand over Aeryn’s. “We’ll stay with you.”

After a moment and a quick glance at one another, the two boys slowly sat back down on AerynÂ’s bed. Aeryn sighed slightly and put her head back down on the coverlet, her eyes staring listlessly out into space as an uncomfortable silence fell, broken only by the occasional squirming or shifting of someoneÂ’s weight.

The gentle creak of the door exploded through the dormitory, and all eyes turned to see Professor McGonagall step into the room. The two boys immediately jumped to their feet, their faces masks of guilt.

“Professor McGonagall,” Hermione exclaimed, also rising to her feet.

“Good evening, Mr. Potter, Mr. Weasley, Miss Granger.” The deputy headmistress’s gaze rested questioningly on the boys, but she did not comment on their presence in the girls’ dormitory. Her face was more haggard than usual, and the luster of the eyes behind the square-rimmed glasses was slightly dull. Those eyes flickered once to the prone Aeryn, and then back to the other three Gryffindors. “Would you mind leaving me alone for a moment with Miss Blake?”

AerynÂ’s fingers curled against the coverlet.

The other three glanced quickly at each other, but no one dared refuse a direct request from Professor McGonagall. After a hesitant second they filtered from the room, closing the dormitory door behind them.

There was a rustle of silk against stone as the deputy headmistress walked over slowly and sat down on the bed next to Aeryn. Aeryn swooped her hand restlessly across the coverlet, trying very hard not to feel the stillness of the room pressing into her like a lead weight.

“I didn’t feel very well all of a sudden, and I had to lie down.” Her voice was weak, and she forced herself to give a little smile. She picked at a loose thread. “I’ll be okay in a little bit.”

McGonagall gently placed her hand on AerynÂ’s back.

Aeryn drew a shuddering breath. She could feel her lower lip starting to tremble, and a heavy lump was forming in the base of her throat. She swallowed, the gesture painful.

“I should have gone to Dumbledore right away when this whole thing started.” She dug her fingertips slightly into the resilient fabric beneath her. Her breath half-caught in her throat. “Then none of this would have happened.”

McGonagall did not speak.

“I’m sorry,” Aeryn whispered suddenly, her voice choking. She squeezed her eyes tightly shut against the sudden surge of tears that threatened to overtake her. “I should have told you….”

“Don’t say that.”

The deputy headmistress’ voice cut sharply through Aeryn’s words, in a tone of voice that Aeryn had never heard from her before. “You have done nothing wrong, Miss Blake, do you hear me? You did nothing wrong.”

A little sob escaped AerynÂ’s tightly pressed lips, and she nodded briefly.

McGonagall heaved a heavy sigh and very gently began to run her fingers through AerynÂ’s hair in a soothing caress.

“You are not the one who should be apologizing,” she murmured.

Aeryn sniffed. The clenched muscles of her back trembled as she fought with herself, willing herself not to break down, willing the lump in her throat to dissolve, willing for everything to be all right. The curtains of the open window fluttered as a sudden breeze stirred them, and the scent of fresh grass wafted into the room.

After a moment, Aeryn resumed her absent fidgeting with the coverlet.

McGonagall cleared her throat uncomfortably. “I hate to be the one to tell you this….”

AerynÂ’s fingers stilled.

The deputy headmistress must have felt the movement, for she paused before continuing. “But over the past few days, Headmaster Dumbledore has been, er…receiving many letters. From the parents of students.” Her voice faltered. “About you.”

For a second, the words hovered in the air like dust in a breeze. Then the meaning of what she had just said sunk into Aeryn. A numb sickness spread through her body like molasses.

Of course. The last calculation of the equation had finally begun.

“So, which is it?” she spat, despair bitter on her tongue. “That I’m a nymphomaniac little whore who seduced the Potions master, or that I’m a threat to their children’s lives?”

Professor McGonagall’s hands pulled away from the girl. “I’m sorry,” she whispered after a moment.

Sorry.

Aeryn closed her eyes and heaved a forlorn sigh. In the very back of her mind, she heard ProfessorÂ’s SnapeÂ’s voice, with words that seemed a lifetime ago, but now their prophetic quality was heavy in her ears: Do you honestly think that Dumbledore will allow you to remain at Hogwarts once he discovers the truth about youÂ…IÂ’m sure many concerned parents will have plenty to say about their children attending school with youÂ…really, once the word is outÂ….

“Miss Blake.” The deputy headmistress’s words grated through Aeryn’s disjointed thoughts. “I know that—”

“Has it been decided yet what they’re going to do with Professor Snape?” Aeryn interrupted, her voice suddenly clear.

Professor McGonagall paused. “No. It’s still being discussed.” Her voice was oddly light. “But we…we should know soon.”

Aeryn scratched her fingers across the coverlet of the bed, feeling the tough fibers of the wool painfully twist her nails. “I want to go with you,” she said quietly. “I want to hear the verdict.”

The curtains rustled again as a fresh breeze stirred them, and Aeryn closed her eyes, the wind cool against her skin.

Professor McGonagall put her hand again on Aeryn’s back. “All right,” she murmured.

* * *

The summer sun was low on the horizon, casting long shadows across the grass and turning the water of the lake into sparkles of red gold. The evening meal was finished, yet the students were still strolling around the grounds or in their respective common rooms, lounging in the comfort of end-of-the-year freedom.

In the second-year girlsÂ’ dormitory, Aeryn sat at the window, looking out onto the lake. A gentle breeze, cooled by the evening, ruffled her hair and she closed her eyes, drawing the scented air deeply into her lungs. For a moment, she smiled, allowing herself to revel in the serene calm of the landscape. But in the next instant the smile faded and she opened her eyes.

She was alone, but not for long. Soon, all too soon, the second year girls would return, some to begin packing, others to gossip and chat with one another, and when they saw her here, their curious stares and their whispered words would tear her heart apart.

Aeryn sighed and dropped her head into her arms. How was she expected to heal if that was what she would have to face day in and day out? The whispers, the stares, the accusing glancesÂ….

She sighed again and shook her head. I tried so hard and got so farÂ…but in the end, it doesnÂ’t even matter.

Not everyone hated her—that much she knew to be true. She seemed to have the support of Gryffindor House, hesitant though it was. Once a Gryffindor, always a Gryffindor, she supposed wryly. But the others….

Over the past few days Headmaster Dumbledore has been receiving letters. About you.

In Slytherin she had made a deadly enemy. For having sullied their beloved Head, the clan of the serpent seemed to have collectively sworn to make life as miserable for her as they could. To the Hufflepuffs she was a source of fear, someone to be stared at wide-eyed and shied away from as she passed in the hallways or was glanced at in the Great Hall. To Ravenclaw she was some bizarre enigma, to be studied shrewdly and scientifically, but only from a distance. Never touched.

After all, they all know what happened when I touched LockhartÂ….

A breath of wind stirred her hair, and Aeryn closed her eyes.

She wondered idly how many more bulbs of bubotuber pus she would receive before this was all over.

And then, to face Snape—

But with the thought of the Potions master came such a suffocating flood of emotions and memories that Aeryn choked, burying her head in the crook of her arm. She bit her lip hard, willing the pain to drive away the fear, the shame—

She had thought—Mom always prided me on being so strong, so unfazeable—it was all over, everything was in the past—if I’ve survived so much, why is it the movies in my mind, mere memories, can unmake me so—and she had submerged them so well, thought that she was beyond them, that she had the power to keep herself cool and logical—

And until this afternoon in the interrogation room, she had succeeded magnificently. Or at least she thought she had.

As the quivers slowly faded away from her body, she gradually became aware of the iron taste of blood in her mouth. Surprised, she put a finger to her lips and pulled it away tinged with red.

To have to face him againÂ…in the hallways, in the classroomÂ…to have his eyes on her, even if the meaning behind the look had changedÂ….

She shuddered.

Aeryn heaved a final sigh and sat up, giving her head a little toss to relieve the building pressure behind her eyes.

IÂ’m so sorry, Dad, she thought bitterly. I failed.

In the distance, behind the closed door of the dormitory, she could hear the sudden footfalls of the girls as they approached, their giggles ringing off the stone walls, their words muffled but the happiness tingeing their voices unmistakable.

Aeryn stood. Outside, the shadows had lengthened to stripe the landscape, and the sparkles dancing on the lake were muted and murky. With numb hands, Aeryn slowly pulled the curtains closed across the window.

Her fingers knotted in the thin fabric and she bowed her head.

I canÂ’t go on like this anymore.

* * *

Aeryn silently followed Professor McGonagall through the hallways until they finally reached the double doors wrapped in bronze. The deputy headmistress knocked, waited for the response, and then she and Aeryn stepped through the creaking door, the skirts of their robes whispering against the stone floor.

The assembled looked up as they entered, and Aeryn acknowledged them with a slight nod of her head. Their faces were haggard with fatigue, and any semblance of normality that they had attempted to plaster across their features had melted away long ago.

Professor Sprout motioned wordlessly to an empty chair that had been placed next to her, and Aeryn walked over and sat down, hoping that the emotions writhing within her were not as obvious as they felt.

As soon as she was seated, another door in the back of the room, one that she had not seen before, swung open, and into the room walked Professor Severus Snape, followed closely by one of the Ministry wizards.

AerynÂ’s stomach bottomed out. As he drew closer, a paralyzing feeling spread through her body and for a second she was afraid she was going to be sick.

He seated himself in the chair facing the long table and his eyes scanned the faces of the assembly. But as his gaze suddenly found her, Aeryn looked quickly away from him, bile rising in her throat as she trained her eyes on the floor.

The silence hung heavy in the room.

There was the squeak of wood against stone as Cornelius Fudge pushed back his chair and slowly stood up. He cleared his throat loudly, and all eyes rose to him.

“Before we begin,” he said. He turned and looked down the table towards Aeryn, and the stern rigidity locking his features softened slightly. “Miss Blake, I would like to thank you for having been so open with us.” He inclined his head in a half-bow. “We realize how hard this must have been for you, and for that we thank you.”

Aeryn nodded jerkily, not trusting her voice to speak.

“That being said.” The Minister of Magic’s gaze slowly swiveled to rest on the Potions master. “We come to you, Professor Snape.”

Aeryn wrapped her arms around her chest as the two menÂ’s eyes locked. SnapeÂ’s face held its usual impassivity, but Aeryn could see the slight clenching and unclenching of his jaw as he regarded his brother-in-law. Cornelius FudgeÂ’s features looked as if they had been carved from ice, and for a long moment, neither of the men moved. Then, the corner of FudgeÂ’s lip twitched.

“You despicable bastard,” he snarled softly.

There was a sudden movement from one of the Ministry wizards. “Mr. Fudge—” he began hesitantly.

Fudge slammed his hands against the tabletop and the sound splintered through the room, cutting the other man off in mid-sentence.

“What you have done to this girl is beyond loathsome,” Fudge spat, each word filled with a livid rage that seared Aeryn’s ears. He leaned forward across the table, glaring murderously at the Potions master. “If it were up to me, I would have you castrated like the animal you are and—”

“Cornelius.”

DumbledoreÂ’s quiet voice bit through the MinisterÂ’s rant as cleanly as a knife blade. In the tense silence that fell, Aeryn realized suddenly that she was cringing up against the very back of her chair, as if she could somehow crawl away from the outburst of wrath that had just exploded before her. Professor Sprout was breathing shallowly beside her, the sound hoarse and strained. Snape had not moved. He looked as if he had just been Petrified, not even the folds of his robe stirring.

With what appeared to be a great effort, Fudge straightened. His gaze blistered the Potions master for a second longer, and then, with a heavy exhalation, he sank into his chair.

There was a rustle of cloth, and Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts, slowly rose to his feet. AerynÂ’s eyes followed him of their own accord. He looked down at the table, gave a little shake of his head, and then lifted his eyes to regard Snape.

AerynÂ’s fingers tightened around her arms.

“Severus.” The headmaster’s voice was low, devoid of its usual buoyancy, and Aeryn’s heart gave a little twist in her chest. With a little wave of his hand, Dumbledore plucked a scroll of parchment from thin air. “I’m certain I don’t have to you remind you of this. But.” He unrolled the parchment and regarded it calmly. “In Article 5.4 of the Contract for Teaching Positions at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, it clearly states that any relationship beyond a normal teacher-student interaction is strictly forbidden under the penalty of immediate termination of employment.”

He deftly re-rolled the parchment and banished it back to oblivion with another hand wave, and Aeryn barely caught the infinitesimal droop of his shoulders as he righted his gaze on Snape.

“And, unfortunately,” he murmured, “there are other…extremely grave aspects of this relationship that must be taken into consideration.”

Snape gave a brief nod, his black eyes unreadable.

Aeryn suddenly became aware that her left foot had fallen asleep.

Dumbledore clasped his hands behind his back. “We do realize that this stemmed from the influence of a very powerful drug administered by the late Gilderoy Lockhart.” He turned slightly and looked towards Cornelius Fudge as if to verify the last statement, but the Minister of Magic did not acknowledge him. After a moment, the headmaster continued. “But, although part of the blame certainly falls upon his shoulders, it does not eliminate the reality of what took place.”

There was a small twitch of Snape’s lips. “Yes, sir.”

Aeryn tilted her head slightly. Even though the sun had set, the dusty room was filled with a soft light that seemed to originate somewhere near the ceiling. She wondered idly whether one of the professors or one of the Ministry wizards had cast it.

She wondered why it was suddenly so hard to breathe.

The headmaster’s words were clear and slow, easily understandable in the stillness of the room. “This has been a very difficult judgment for us to make. And as a result of the extreme circumstances of the situation, the original sentence…doesn’t quite fit.”

Aeryn shifted uncomfortably in her seat.

Snape still had not moved.

Dumbledore gazed at the Potions master, and Aeryn saw the pain lingering behind the headmaster’s carefully emotionless features. He gave a slow, sad shake of his head. “You are not totally to blame, Severus,” he murmured. “But in this, you are far from the innocent victim.”

Snape closed his eyes momentarily. “Yes, sir,” he whispered.

Aeryn realized that she was clenching her teeth together so tightly that her head was beginning to ache.

Headmaster Dumbledore heaved a long sigh, a noise that sounded as if it came from the very soles of his shoes. He reached up and stroked a hand down his long white beard, and when he began to speak again, his voice was clearer, but slightly colder, as if he were delivering a memorized speech.

“Owing to the uncontrollable effects the Berserker’s Mead had on your system, you will not be expelled from your teaching position here at Hogwarts.”

For a second, Aeryn thought she had misheard him. Then she quietly collapsed back against her chair. The tension that she hadnÂ’t realized was clenching her body suddenly drained from her, leaving her trembling like a marionette jerked upon its strings. Finally, she remembered to look at the Potions master. Snape was staring at Dumbledore with a mixed expression of stunned disbelief and hesitant relief.

She felt very cold.

“However.”

AerynÂ’s eyes fluttered back up to Headmaster Dumbledore, and what she saw on his face caused her blood to stop in her veins. The usual twinkle had long since fled from his blue eyes, and his face was haggard.

“Due to the violence the Berserker’s Mead caused you to inflict on Miss Blake….” He drew a deep breath. “Following the end of this school year, you are hereby sentenced to incarceration in the wizard prison of Azkaban.”

Aeryn felt Professor Sprout flinch beside her, and the soft hiss of indrawn breath from Professor Flitwick further down the table. But she merely stared at the headmaster uncomprehendingly.

Incarceration.

AzkabanÂ….

“You will spend an indeterminate term there, to be later settled, after which you will be brought again before this council.” His words were calm, too calm, as if he were merely reading a grocery list, and he continued as the shockwaves resonated through the air. “If the assembled agree that you have paid a sufficient penalty, you will be allowed to resume teaching.”

Aeryn slowly turned her gaze back to the Potions master, but nothing she could have expected would have prepared her for what she saw in his face. Snape’s sallow skin had drained of any color he possessed, leaving him paper-white. His features were slack and emotionless, but his eyes—his eyes—

“However,” Cornelius Fudge exclaimed as he rose to his feet, “if at any time in the future there is an indication—however slight—of you so much as looking at a student in an inappropriate fashion….” The Minister of Magic’s lips tightened into a thin line. “I swear I will personally watch as the Kiss is administered to you.”

The swirling emotions around her, on all sides of herÂ…Aeryn closed her eyes momentarily, wishing that the queer pain lancing through her chest would stop. Beside her, she could hear Professor Sprout struggling for control, and on her other side, Professor McGonagall was rapping her fingertips loudly on the tabletop.

Please stop the world, I want to get offÂ….

“Do you have anything you’d like to say, Severus?” Dumbledore asked quietly.

The Potions masterÂ’s widened eyes gazed unblinkingly at the Hogwarts headmaster. For a second, he seemed beyond speech, struggling to even think of words.

“Azkaban?” he choked finally, and in those broken tones, Aeryn heard the undercurrent of fear in his voice for the first time.

Dumbledore nodded somberly, and Snape made a strangled noise in the back of his throat.

Aeryn was numb. Dumbledore had continued speaking, but she was no longer listening. It was amazing, she thought, that such a life-shattering sentence could be proclaimed so calmly, and without any commotion. She would have thought that it would have been followed by a cacophonous roar, shouts of denial, or at the very least, some form of discussion.

But it hadnÂ’t. Everything was so very quiet.

“…are there any other comments from the assembled?”

AerynÂ’s mind jerked back to the present as Dumbledore looked around at the assembled questioners. Her throat was suddenly dry, and her heart thudded sickeningly in her chest.

I tried so hard, and got so farÂ….

She swallowed hard.

“In that case—”

“Headmaster Dumbledore,” Aeryn interrupted quietly in a voice that no longer resembled her own.

All eyes turned to her, and for a second she faltered. But there was no turning back now. She nervously cleared her throat and willed her gaze to be steady. “If you will…I have something to say.”

The headmaster nodded and motioned to her with one hand. “Of course, Miss Blake.”

With slow, jerky movements, Aeryn rose to her feet. She could feel the assembled gazes burning into her, and she clenched her jaw, turning her words over and over in her head. She opened her mouth, then closed it, and then heaved a great sigh, closing her eyes and searching for the strength to begin.

So now youÂ’re a witchÂ…you can actually do magicÂ….

She opened her eyes and lifted her head. She fixed her gaze somewhere on the far wall, and unconsciously hooked a finger in the chain of her necklace, twisting it back and forth across her neck. She drew a ragged breath. “I have come to the…realization….”

You have been accepted to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and WizardryÂ….

No. That was not a good beginning. She swallowed hard, feeling the dryness in her mouth as thick as cotton, and started again. “Over the past school year, I….”

Her voice broke, and she put a hand to her forehead.

Silence curtained around her.

No one moved.

A conflicting surge of a million emotions and thoughts swarmed through her blood—the pain she had endured—the look of joy on her friends’ faces—the excitement the first time she had lifted her wand and caused a feather to go flying through the air—the cold, leering eyes of Professor Lockhart—the shock of juice as it spilled down the front of her robe—

Aeryn dropped her hand from her face and squared her shoulders.

But in the end, it doesnÂ’t even matterÂ….

“Headmaster Dumbledore.” She lifted her chin. “Owing to…circumstances beyond my control….”

Her eyes unwillingly shifted and fell upon the face of Professor Snape. For an instant, their gazes locked.

Then she smiled bleakly.

“I wish to inform you that I am withdrawing from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry,” she murmured.

Stunned shockwaves rippled through the ether.

“Thank you…” Her voice quavered, teetering on the edge of brokenness. “Thank you…for everything you’ve done…but….”

Her words dried in her throat, and she bit her lip suddenly. There was silence for an instant longer, and then, as the assembled turned to each other and began murmuring amongst themselves, Aeryn turned on her heel and hurried from the room, clasping a hand to her mouth to hold back the sobs that threatened to overtake her.

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