A Scattered Fire of Stars

A Scattered Fire of Stars

Chapter Three: Stella and Severus' Secret Slytherin Strategy Session

"I am half sick of shadows," said

The Lady of Shalott. - Alfred, Lord Tennyson

The Remembrall on Maristella's desk flashed bright red. She glanced at it and a silver "S" appeared on its surface. Giordano Sinistra had bought his daughter the latest in luxury models, which displayed a small symbol to remind its user what he or she was supposed to remember. It must have cost Father in the hundreds of Galleons, Maristella thought. Thinking of Galleons brought her thoughts around to the Malfoys; would Lucius Malfoy be sending his son Draco off to Hogwarts with the same model Remembrall this year? Probably. Lucius put so much pressure on Draco to bring honor to the exalted Malfoy family name. Even though Draco was Slytherin Seeker and, this year, Prefect, his marks were average at best, except in Potions. That did not please Lucius Malfoy. From what Maristella knew, Lucius never outright abused his son, but he was cold and distant. Maristella wondered what kind of boy Draco would have grown up to be like if he had had a father like Giordano Sinistra. Though Queenie Greengrass, the other new Slytherin Prefect, seemed to be turning out just fine with no father at all and a mother who was worse than useless. She was quiet and well-behaved, got good marks - almost as good as Hermione Granger's. Maristella had tried to watch over the girl as well she could; Severus wouldn't - he devoted what individual attention he could spare to the Malfoy lad, whether because of Lucius' exalted rank and influence or because he felt protective of, or a kinship with, Draco, Maristella couldn't venture to guess.

The "S" turned out to be a reminder that Maristella was supposed to meet with Severus Snape in order to discuss their mutual House. She could think of many things she'd rather do other than have dinner and conversation with Severus - such as squeezing Bubotubers or attending a lecture on Divination. But school would be starting in a few days, and the business of Slytherin House really was important. Now that the Dark Lord was back, and the Ministry so far in denial about it, Hogwarts could not afford to have one House known as the repository for junior league Death Eaters or the school pariahs. Slytherin House had acquired a bad reputation; Albus Dumbledore himself favored the Gryffindors. Now for four years running Gryffindor had won the House Cup and almost all the Quidditch matches and in general had grabbed all the glory from Slytherin. The hangings in the Great Hall on the last day of school had been scarlet and gold for three years running, despite the hijinks of the Weasley twins and the blatant rule-breaking of Harry Potter, Hermione Granger, and Ron Weasley. Albus Dumbledore, a former Gryffindor, thought the trio was "heroic." Maristella thought that for a wise and ancient wizard, Albus could have tunnel vision at times. Favoring the Gryffindors, and treating the Slytherins as second-class Hogwarts citizens, would do exactly what Albus didn't want to do - drive many of them into the ranks of the Death Eaters out of sheer resentment.

As she gathered the supper she was taking to Snape's dungeon lair - a simple meal of rosemary foccacia, thin-sliced prosciutto, a fresh green salad, a bottle of Chianti, and cannelloni for dessert - Maristella reflected that most of Gryffindor's glory owed to dumb luck, the sheer dumb luck of having Harry Potter, Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley all in that House. Those three were exceptional. Hermione was a natural at Astronomy as she was at almost everything else, and Ron could have had top marks if he'd only applied himself, but he preferred to coast. Maristella could not understand the concept of "coasting" at one's lessons; neither could Ron's elder brother Percy whom Maristella had taught years ago. Percy was diligent and ambitious - too bad he hadn't been in Slytherin.

Maristella reached into the Etruscan urn above her fireplace and drew out a fistful of Floo powder. Balancing her food carefully in her hands, she stepped into the fireplace and cried, "Snape's rooms!"

A moment later, slightly dizzy from whirling in the Floo, Maristella stepped from Snape's fireplace; luckily, she had chosen food that wouldn't spill en route. She wrinkled her nose as the smell of Snape's rooms hit her - many years'accumulation of potions, sweat, dirty hair and an undertone of what seemed to be blood; the combined smell could peel the paint off of walls. The fine Chianti she had brought back from Tuscany would go to waste in this atmosphere. It would have a bouquet of hair-grease with undertones of assafoetida and toad guts. How could Severus stand living like this?

"Maristella, there you are." Severus half-smiled. "You didn't have to bring food."

"I'm Italian, Severus. I have to bring food. It's a requirement. It's better for you than those bland and starchy English abominations you call 'meals' anyway."

Severus' smirk widened. "Maristella, are you implying" -

"That you could do with good food and fresh air? Yes, Severus. I'm not just implying, I am saying. Your diet and living conditions are not healthy." Maristella tapped the bottle of wine with her wand and it uncorked. Pouring two glasses, she continued, "But we're not here to talk about your health habits, we're here to talk about our House. Oh Charon, NO!"

Snape's inky black tomcat, Charon, had jumped on the table, nicked the biggest slice of prosciutto, and retreated to skulk under a chair, munching on the ham and growling as if he had just caught a large gnome. Severus probably lets the damn cat eat off his plate when no one's looking, Maristella thought.

"Let the cat have a snack, he's hungry. Let's sit down." Snape pulled a chair out for Maristella; surprised at the gesture, she sat down and sipped her wine. Severus had never been one for chivalry.

"So, about Slytherin House," said Snape through a mouthful of prosciutto and focaccia. "Draco Malfoy is the male Fifth Year Prefect. I'm sure Lucius Malfoy is jumping for joy at having his son chosen. Just between us, Maristella, Draco Malfoy is worthless. He's a terrible Seeker. He struggles to get his mediocre marks. And he has no friends except Crabbe and Goyle, whose ambitions appear to be exclusively directed toward eating and excreting."

So why the hell do you favor Draco so blatantly if you dislike the boy, then? Maristella felt like snapping. Out of fear, or desire to be in the Malfoys' good books? Because Narcissa Malfoy would send the Howler of all Howlers if her precious darling baby boy wasn't treated like a future Minister of Magic? "And what about Queenie Greengrass, our other new Prefect? She's a good student - Minerva tells me she's 'a natural' at Transfiguration, though knowing Minerva, she would never praise the girl to her face - and she's got a good head on her shoulders. Don't you want to reach her, Severus? Then there's Pansy Parkinson. If I could disavow her of her foolish notion of marrying well and preferably marrying a Malfoy, she has potential. Pansy's not stupid - just misguided."

"That's the ambition of some girls, marrying into a wealthy family. Like a few others I could name," Severus looked right at Maristella.

"And some of those girls learn their lessons later," Maristella parried, her face flaming. Really, that had been uncalled-for. If Severus wanted a contest of barbs, she could give him one. "Severus, you didn't answer my question about Queenie. Why do you ignore her and favor Draco when she's just as capable - and far more personable - than he? And come to think of it, if you think Draco is such a mediocrity, why is he your pet student? Why not Blaise Zabini? He's smarter, and better-liked. No one really likes Draco except his hangers-on."

"Pansy Parkinson seems to like Draco well enough. As you pointed out."

"I didn't say Pansy liked Draco. Just that she wanted to marry him. There is a difference. Galleons make unloveable men very attractive. Just ask Narcissa Malfoy. Would she have loved Lucius if he had been poor?"

Severus changed the subject. "I don't know if I would call Queenie 'personable,' Maristella. She's a sullen and not very sociable young woman, who keeps mostly to herself" -

"Pot, meet cauldron. Cauldron, this is pot. Severus, you're the last person who should be chastising anyone for being 'sullen and unsociable.'" Maristella narrowed her eyes at Severus. "Don't make Queenie pay for something she has no control over. She isn't Geraldine Woodville."

Severus glared; his hands shook as he poured himself another glass of wine. So her shot had hit the mark. "Geraldine Lestrange, you mean," Severus spat.

"Whomever. I remember her as Woodville. Queenie's mother's sister. She was in your group of friends, was she not?" Snape and his friends, including Geraldine Woodville Lestrange, had been three years ahead of Maristella. Geraldine had been the scariest of that scary lot, a girl who had every first-year class terrified. Maristella could see the physical resemblance between Queenie and her aunt - it was striking - but not in character, at least not that Maristella could see. But the physical resemblance had done for Severus. Fiorenza's gossip had been right; Severus Snape had apparently had a monster case of unrequited love for the beautiful, intelligent, if sociopathic Geraldine.

"Mmmph." Snape filled his mouth with prosciutto and rosemary focaccia, Maristella knew as much to avoid answering the question as because he thought her food was delicious. At least he chewed with his mouth closed.

"Anyway. We're not here to talk about - who you did or did not fancy back in the day. We're here for Slytherin. Whatever personal feelings Queenie inspires in you, put them aside. The girl gets such good marks..."

"Hmmm..." Severus' face took on a look of concentration, "if Transfiguration is her best subject, perhaps she could be persuaded to work her hardest and beat Hermione Granger in Minerva's class. What I wouldn't give to see Slytherin best Gryffindor in just one subject. Especially one that the Gryffindor Head of House teaches."

"Queenie's our best hope at doing that, then. There's no possibility of Draco getting better marks than Hermione, no matter what the subject. Queenie could. So could Pansy Parkinson - she's very good at Charms. So." Maristella dabbed at her mouth with her napkin. "We agree. Queenie, and Pansy, are to be encouraged in every way possible. As for Draco - if you feel you must keep the boy as your personal pet, at least pay some attention to Blaise Zabini and some of the other students. It's bad enough that Albus is so obviously biased. But if your own students feel as if you ignore or neglect them or only care about Draco - Severus, think. What will that do to their morale? Do you want the Slytherins flocking to the Dark Lord because they feel that's the only way they'll get any respect, any attention?"

"Don't tell me how to run my own House, Maristella." Severus helped himself to more wine and prosciutto.

"Severus." Maristella sighed. "I'm a Slytherin, too. I care about the students in my House, even if I'm not the Head. Like it or not, we are going to work together on this."

Severus glared at Maristella and snuck another slice of prosciutto under the table to his waiting cat.

"Is this a common affliction of Italian women? The irresistible impulse to run others' lives for them?"

Maristella fought not to rise to the bait. She raised her glass of Chianti in a toast. "To silver and green banners in the Great Hall this year!" Slowly, with a scowl, Severus raised his own glass, and they drank. Maristella passed Severus the cannelloni and they polished off their dessert.

"Why Severus! You cleaned your plate!" A proper, nourishing meal would do him a world of good, Maristella thought with a smile. Enough decent food and his coloring and teeth would benefit no end. He might even look human. He'd never have the appeal of, say, Remus Lupin, whom every girl from fourth year on up without exception had fancied when he taught Defense Against the Dark Arts at Hogwarts, but perhaps his appearance could be cleaned up enough so that he'd no longer curdle milk and stop clocks.

"It was a delicious meal, but unfortunately, I can't have you linger. I have a lot of work to do to prepare for this term, especially a term with Neville Longbottom in it. I remember his mother - she was in Ravenclaw, and one of the best Potions students in her year. If Moira only knew what her son turned out to be like, perhaps she would have tried her hand at a Contraceptive Potion."

"That was uncalled-for, Severus." Poor Moira. Poor Frank. The Longbottoms languished insensible in St. Mungo's, unable to recognize their only child - victims of the Cruciatus Curse, which Barty Crouch, Maristella's fiancé, had used upon them. She felt angry on Neville's behalf - he was not the brightest of students, but he tried so hard, and Severus bullied him unmercifully - and on her own behalf as well; Severus' remark was a barb designed to wound, because of Barty Crouch. Maristella couln't help feeling guilty because of the Longbottoms, even though she had no idea of Barty's Death Eater activities - he had been so secretive, kept that part of his life so compartmentalized.

"I think it's obvious that I'm wearing out my welcome here, Severus, so let me get these dishes and I'll Floo." Maristella gathered up the dinner dishes and empty serving bowls from the table. "I'm glad Charon enjoyed the prosciutto as much as you did - though from the looks of him he needs no fattening up." Hands full of dishes, Maristella headed for the fireplace. "Severus, could you be a gentleman and throw in some Floo powder for me? My hands are full. And remember, next week, same time, my rooms in the Astronomy Tower - I'll make chicken under a brick for us!"

"Why do you rate a fully equipped kitchen?" grumbled Severus as he threw a handful of Floo powder into the flames.

"Albus was sweetening his offer and, bless his heart, knew just what would lure me in." Maristella stepped into the flames, and as she Flooed away, couldn't resist getting in a dig of her own. "Keep eating good food, Severus, and soon you'll be as irresistible as Remus Lupin!"