Forbidden Lore

Forbidden Lore

Chapter Four

The day after my conversation with Snape, I returned to the Gryffindor Tower and was attacked with questions the minute I walked in the door.

"What's going on?" Ron demanded, "There are all these rumors going around about you and Snape!"

"Are there?" I didn't bother to contain my amusement.

"Yes! So, what's the real story?"

"I had a conversation with him yesterday afternoon, he's not that bad, what is there to say?"

"'He's not that bad'" Harry repeated, "This is Snape we're talking about, he lives to make Gryffindors miserable!"

"Not really, he's actually kind of nice, understanding, almost. His life's been pretty hard and he accepts that everyone has limits."

They stared at me as though I'd sprouted a second head, a quote about diversity popped into my head, but I kept quiet. They were disturbed enough for one night and my quotes never seemed to go over well.

I smiled gently, "It's all right, you don't have to understand it; I don't even understand it, really. Professor Snape isn't really all that bad, I think you just have to get to know him a little bit before you see it. But, I'm fine, I swear upon all things that I hold holy that I am."

"What happened, anyway?" Hermione asked.

I shrugged, "I don't know exactly, but I was able to sleep for six and a half hours last night without a nightmare, I feel so much better now."

"You admit that you don't know about something a lot." Hermione remarked.

"I told Ron this once, admitting that you don't know anything is the only way you'll ever learn. I like to learn, so I say 'I don't know' a great deal."

Laughter broke out at various places around the room, Ron, Seamus, Neville, and Ginny.

Hmmm, I thought, tensions are oddly distributed tonight.

I considered mentioning that fact, but, again, I thought better of it and said nothing.

"So, there's really nothing major going on?" Dean asked.

"No, there's nothing. What a place this is, I have a conversation and hideous rumors begin flying in less than twenty-four hours. Ah, well, that's life."

With a cheerful smile and a little wave, I turned and sauntered up the stairs to the girl's dormitory. They looked after me, some of them with bemused expressions.

In the dormitory, I went to one of the windows and stood in silence, gazing out at the peaceful evening. I was in a strangely contemplative mood that night and wanted to be alone with my thoughts. I didn't want to be with my friends who, though very sweet, could smother a person with affection and concern if given proper chance.

You would have jumped at the chance to spend an evening in the common room being treated as though you belonged yesterday. I thought with wry amusement. Well, I countered my own thought. Things have changed since yesterday.

Things had changed indeed. I was far more reflective than I'd been before my conversation with Snape, and I was keenly aware of the fact that what I was hearing was not some hallucination, it was quite real. Also, I had a strange feeling, like a premonition, I knew that something was going to happen soon; something that would change the was things were. This frightened me to no end, but I was too proud to admit it to anyone, I'd broken once and told everyone my problems, that performance would not be repeated.

Okay, I admit it; I wasn't a very good person when I was sixteen. I was arrogant and short-tempered, secretive and untrusting, sarcastic and cynical. I was also hardened from years of being shuffled from home to home. In other words, I wasn't really someone you'd want to know. Why my friends liked me will forever remain a mystery; perhaps it was the fact that they were Gryffindors and Gryffindor ethics make them give second chances. Whatever it was, I was and am eternally grateful, to all of them.

I sighed and rested my forehead on the cold glass; closing my eyes against the tears I could feel prickling at the backs of my eyes. I didn't want to cry, I hated crying, it was a show of weakness and I couldn't stand weakness, especially in myself. Somewhere, deep in my past, someone had told me that crying was an art, you had to learn to do it, but once you did, there was nothing quite like it. I hadn't understood then, and I couldn't believe it now. And life had turned so sour since I'd heard those words.

"'Like all dreamers, I mistook disenchantment for truth.'" I whispered, so quietly that I could scarcely hear it. I don't know why I said it, I just did. Quotations, no matter how random, tended to comfort me.

"Raven?" it was Hermione.

I spoke without turning, "Yes, Hermione?" My voice was soft and unusually gentle, even I could hear that.

"Are you sure you're all right?"

I smiled bitterly to myself before responding, "I'm quite sure; I just have a lot on my mind."

"Oh, anything you want to talk about?"

"No, please, I just need to think about some of the things Snape said to me."

Still, I blatantly refused to look at her. I could feel her eyes on my back, the frustration in them. Finally, I turned around and smiled slightly, in a reassuring sort of way.

"Hermione, honestly, I'm fine. Please believe me." I was imploring her without actually going as far as to say so. She took the hint and walked out, concern written in her warm brown eyes.

For a moment, I considered calling her back, considered telling her everything, but decided against it. It was hard, hiding things from Hermione; she was very smart and so...nice. She just wasn't the right person to confide in. Snape was a good person to confide in, he understood what it meant to be in between, as I was, to not be good or bad, dark or light. Hermione didn't have that understanding, she was nice and a great friend, but she simply didn't have Snape's understanding of what it was like to be different. And, that was precisely what I needed most.

Suddenly, I straightened my back and shook my head fiercely; I was being pathetic and needed to stop before I drove myself mad. Not to mention the fact that I was steadily driving my friends away with my secretive manner and evasive answers to their questions. This was doing no good, distancing myself from everyone who had come to care about me.

And whom I've come to care about. I thought.

Screaming from the common room disturbed my ordered thoughts. With a start, I rushed down the stairs to see what was going on, with no thought about my personal safety, I might add (maybe I was more of a Gryffindor than I'd thought).

When I got into the common room, everyone was standing perfectly still, staring at Harry and Hermione. Most of them had looks of shocked displeasure written on their faces. Hermione was looking at Harry, shock and outrage written across her face. She opened her mouth and shrieked.

"What!? That's not right, please tell me you didn't just say that!"

Harry was looking at his hands; when he spoke, his voice was soft. "I did say it, Hermione, and it's true."

"What's going on?" I asked cautiously.

"Harry just told us to stop insulting Malfoy, Malfoy. When Ron asked him why he was defending that slimy bastard, he said 'because he's my friend'!"

"Oh, is that all? I thought you were being attacked, given the amount of screaming I heard." I said mildly, not ruffled in the least, though I was a bit annoyed with them for making me worry.

"What..." Hermione began.

I cut her off, rubbing my eyes wearily, "Hermione, please, don't, just don't."

Oh lord, I thought, that sounds so pathetic.

"Don't you care that Harry's friends with Malfoy?"

"Not really, no. Honestly, Hermione, I don't give a damn who Harry wants to be friends with as long as I'm still somewhere on the list. It's none of our goddamn business, for Christ's sake!"

"Isn't it, though?" Ginny asked quietly, "He is our friend."

"I don't think it is, and maybe that's callous, and maybe that's cold, but that's how I feel. It's not my life, it's his, and he can live that life however he desires. In my experience, it is a person's god-given right to live their life the way they please; I refuse to judge. I would do the same for any of you because you are all my friends and I care about you enough not to meddle in your personal affairs. There's no reason in hell for us to intercede. I understand that you all care about him, that this is your way of showing that, but it's really none of your concern, or mine."

Harry looked at me gratefully, but I couldn't meet his gaze. They all believed that I'd said those things for Harry's benefit. But I hadn't, I'd said them for mine. It had been selfish, I knew that, but I'd seen the opportunity to attempt to make them understand, and I'd taken advantage of it. Mentally, I cursed myself for doing it and, for the second time that night, wondered why anyone would bother being kind to me. I knew it was time to make amends.

I sighed, "Listen, my friends, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have snapped. It's just... I'm a bit tense today. Little things, like this, are enough to send me right over the edge."

"You know what, Raven?" Hermione said, "That's not good enough. All you've done since you got here is demean and antagonize us. And then, you apologize and expect everything to be okay. Well, it's not; it's never okay. And if you think that that's what friendship is, then maybe you should rethink your definition."

I stood stock still, stunned. Never, not in a thousand years, would I have expected such an outburst from the usually mild-mannered Hermione. Who knew that the Gryffindor scholar was capable of such things? There was another reason I stood so still, though, I was hurt. Hermione's accusing words had hurt me badly. This was partially because I knew that she was right.

"I'm sorry," I whispered, my eyes downcast, had I looked up, they'd have seen the tears forming in them, the tears of humiliated exhaustion. "Excuse me,"

I took a deep breath, blinked tears from my eyes, and walked from the common room with my back straight, my head held high. I would not let them see me cry again, once was enough for me, thanks.

It seemed that the halls of that school were my refuge; I wandered them every time I became upset. Without realizing where I was going, I wandered down to Professor Snape's office, he'd told me the day before that I was welcome to go talk to him if I felt like sharing anything. Well, I felt like sharing right then.

When I reached the dungeons, it took me a minute to get my bearings. Once I figured out where I was going, I took off at a dead run as to avoid meeting any Slytherins who may have been lurking.

Desperation was setting in, nightmares, voices no one else could hear, and there was a strong possibility that I'd just lost my friends. I really felt like spilling my inner thoughts to someone, as my friends were mad at me, Snape was the only one available.

I was running so fast that I ran past Snape's door and had to turn back. When I finally managed to get to the door, I abandoned all pretenses of dignity and pounded on the heavy wood with the palm of my hand.

"Coming, coming," he said irritably.

He opened the door, a scowl written across his sallow face. When he saw that I was the one at the door, the scowl faded slightly, though he didn't smile.

"Raven," he said, a faint note of concern creeping into his voice, "what are you doing here?"

"I'm ready to talk now," I said simply.

"I see," a pause, "you may come in."

Snape held the door open and I walked in. The office was simple; a desk, a bookcase, some shelves holding potions ingredients, and three chairs. There were candles floating in various places around the small room.

"Sit down,"

"Thanks," I sank into one of the chairs facing the desk.

He sat in the chair behind the desk; it was a heavy, dark creation, rather beautiful actually.

Mahogany. I thought, absently identifying the wood.

"So, what's on your mind?"

"I think I just lost my friends, and the worst part is that I think they have a point. This desk is quite beautiful, by the way."

He watched me without speaking, a silent invitation for me to continue. I returned his gaze for a moment, than I looked down at the desk, collecting my scattered thoughts.

"Well, I was up in the dormitory, thinking and looking out the window, when I heard Hermione shriek. Of course, I didn't know it was Hermione when I heard it, I figured out who it was afterwards. So, anyway, when I heard the scream, I ran down to the common room because I assumed that something big had to be happening, only to discover it had been Hermione screaming something or another at Harry. I asked, rather timidly, given the tension in the room, what was going on and was told that Harry had just told them that he and Draco Malfoy are friends.

"Now, this didn't seem like all that bad a thing, I mean, honestly, who cares? I said something along those lines, I believe, and Hermione got kind of angry with me. Well, I snapped at them for acting like it was a huge flipping deal, which it's not, and, I admit it, I put a bit of, shall we say, less than pleasant language in it? Immediately after telling them off, I decided that I'd been unfair, and apologized. Hermione, to my intense surprise, shouted at me. Saying that my apology wasn't good enough, and that all I've done since I've arrived is act demeaning and antagonizing."

I broke off, taking a deep, calming breath. It was then that I realized that my face was wet with tears. I flicked them away with a quick movement of my wrist.

"Is that all?" he asked gently.

"Yes, I suppose so. After that I summoned up my last remaining shreds of dignity and promptly fled the room. But, for the record, I didn't cry, there were tears in my eyes, but I didn't cry. I walked out of that room with my head held high. Now I don't know if they'll ever forgive me."

A faint smile flicked across his thin lips, "I see. Well, my advice is to lay low for a bit, let the whole thing blow over. They're tried and true Gryffindors; they have this 'live and let live' philosophy." His voice took on a faint sneer as he said this. "Of course they'll forgive you."

"You really think so?"

"Quite," he said dryly.

I couldn't help it, I smiled slightly, albeit a bit bitterly, at his bone-dry tone. That man had a bizarre talent for making me smile when I felt like screaming and cursing. I wonder if it was intentional?

"Thank you, sir," I said gratefully.

I really meant those words, I think he knew that because he nodded slightly and said: "Any time, Raven, any time."

We sat in silence for a few minutes, thinking our own thoughts, when he spoke up again.

"Raven, if you ever need a place to go, a refuge, if you will, from the world, you may come here. You can sit and think, or rant, or scream, or shout at the walls, for all I care; I just thought I'd give you the option."

For the second time that night, I said, "Thank you," and meant it completely. A moment later, I murmured, "'after such knowledge, what forgiveness?'"

"Pardon me?"

"Nothing, sir, just a quotation by T.S. Elliot about forgiveness. I do that a lot. Don't mind me."

"I see," he said nothing more.

After a few more minutes of quiet contemplation, I wished him good night and went back to Gryffindor Tower. As I came into the common room, a hush descended, plunging the circular room into dead silence.

I walked straight through the stillness, boldly, my head held high and proud. I could see Hermione's glare out of the corner of my eye. But, I pretended not to notice. All I wanted was to get up to the relative safety of my bed and, for some unknown reason, have a good long cry. I'd recently (as in the previous two hours) made the decision that it was all right to cry if the situation truly was deserving of it. In my opinion, my situation was bad enough to be considered deserving.

Unfortunately, before I could completely lock myself into my curtained sanctuary, Parvati came rushing into the room followed, to my annoyance, by Lavender. Those two were the most annoying, ditzy girls in Gryffindor, and dealing with one was bad enough, two was damn near impossible to stomach.

"Raven!" Parvati called out in a singsong voice, "Raven, get out here and apologize to Hermione!"

"Why?" I asked insolently.

"Because she's mad, and you're mad, and it's affecting the whole tower!" Lavender said shrilly. "There's so much negative energy flying around tonight that you can practically see it!"

"And that's a good reason for me to apologize, why? Oh, let me rephrase that; that's a good reason for me to apologize again, why?"

"Again?" Parvati asked quizzically.

"My, what selective memories we have, I apologized once already, quite sincerely, as a point of fact. Now, you want me to humiliate myself by begging for forgiveness?"

"You should, it would make everything better." Parvati said firmly.

"Ah, sorry, but that's just not my style."

They looked rather affronted; I thought they deserved it for sticking their noses into my business. Okay, so it was sort of their business, too, that's how it is when you live in a dormitory full of people, but still, it was only indirectly their problem. I tried to give them a better reason for my refusal to apologize.

"'Speak when you are angry and you will make the best speech you will ever regret.'" I said softly. I don't think they understood the message I was trying to give them.

They stormed out (presumably to fetch Hermione and force us to make up) and I lay down diagonally across the bed, my head hanging over the side, watching the play of shadows and candle light across the curving ceiling.

"'All that we see or seem is but a dream within a dream.'" I whispered for no reason whatsoever. That quotation had simply popped into my head. It took me a moment to place it.

Of course, I thought after thinking about it for a few seconds, Edgar Allen Poe, 'A Dream Within A Dream'.

Then, for a moment, another shadow, clear as glass, passed across the ceiling directly above my head. I shivered, causing my hair, which was lying in a pool on the patterned rug next to my bed, to ripple. On some sub-conscious level, that shadow scared me badly. I really hoped it was just my imagination playing tricks on me.

All of a sudden, a sickly sweet smell filled the air around my bed and my world went black. My last thought before I lost consciousness was: 'I guess this is where that funny feeling came from'.

Oddly enough, in those final moments of awareness, I felt no fear, no anger, only resignation and regret. Regret over all the things I'd left unsaid, resignation over the fact that I was sick of fighting with my life. It was a losing battle anyway.

When I woke up, several hours later, I was far from my bed at Hogwarts. I was also completely alone.