Armilla

Chapter 58

"And so Dumbledore brought in a centaur to replace Trelawney? I bet that Umbridge woman now has her wand in a knot." Mother's eyes were wide with eagerness to hear more of the tale of the scandal in the Entrance Hall a few days before.

It was a cool Sunday night in March, and Snape and I had gone up to Dumbledore's office as usual to visit Mother. We had wasted no time in telling Mother all about Trelawney's abrupt dismissal.

My friends and I had been apart of the crowd that had gathered in the Entrance Hall when rumour had quickly spread that some sort of commotion was going on there. Umbridge had decided to unceremoniously fire Trelawney in front of a large audience. Though most students and teachers had little respect for Trelawney's vague discipline and questionable teaching ability, I was certain that those who supported Umbridge's decision to dump a fellow member of staff in such a way were in the minority.

"Yes," said Snape, inclining his head. "Dumbledore brought in a centaur named Firenze, who has no doubt been banished from the forest by his kind now for agreeing to work for a wizard."

Mother frowned. "And what of that poor woman? Did she have to leave then?"

"No," he answered. "Dumbledore made it perfectly clear that it was his right to send people away from the castle, and he wished Trelawney to remain."

"For what reason?" Mother peered up at Snape, a bewildered expression on her face. "Surely if the woman has been sacked she can be of no more use to the school?"

Snape looked indifferent. "I suppose the Headmaster has his reasons."

"I wonder what they are," she went on, now looking thoughtful. "There must be something special about Trelawney to make Dumbledore want to keep her in the castle." She let out a hollow laugh. "Why else would one want to keep a Divination teacher?"

"I suggest you ask Dumbledore," Snape said shortly, looking impatient.

Mother narrowed her eyes at her son. "Touchy subject, Severus?"

Now it was Snape's turn to narrow his eyes. "No, a rather tedious one, Mother. The affairs of Sybil Trelawney do not hold my interest and they are certainly not worthy of my concern."

Mother sighed. "Severus, when you have a spare moment, I'd like you to read a book on engaging in polite conversation. You don't need to put an end to every subject in such an abrupt, disinterested manner."

Snape's lip curled. "I already know how to do that." He smirked. "My conversation is cultured and sophisticated, as long as the subject in question interests me."

I could tell that Mother was trying not to smile. "Well, then what about a book on how to respect your mother?"

He snorted.

She gave a long-suffering sigh. "Perhaps you should practise not being so short with people then."

Snape looked affronted. "Why do I suddenly feel like I've stumbled into the past?" He leaned back, folding his arms. "Mother," he said, very matter-of-factly, "if I wasn't short with people, I'd be encouraging them to keep talking with me. As that is the last thing I want, given that conversation with the average person lacks any hint of intellect, I believe my current approach to conversation to be suitable."

Mother opened her mouth to reply, but Snape kept talking.

"And here is a subject that will interest you, Mother. I told Armilla all about your family tree not long ago."

I looked over at my brother, feeling a little surprised. Since Snape had told me about being related to the Potters, we hadn't talked about it much. And neither of us had mentioned the subject to Mother.

Mother also looked surprised. "Did you really, Severus?" She suddenly smirked. "Well, about time too!" She turned to face me. "I would have told you all about my extended family sooner, Armilla, but I decided that Severus should share the family history with you." She turned back to her son, a small smile playing about her lips. "Though it took him a lot longer than I had anticipated."

I tried not to smile. I wasn't going to mention to Mother that if I hadn't brought up the topic of James Potter and not knowing much about my brother, I would probably still be completely ignorant about my Great Aunt Lucia's family. It was a strange thought that my namesake was Harry Potter's great grandmother.

"Nevertheless, she knows about our misfortune of being related to the Potters now," Snape said, a pronounced sneer on his face.

"I named you after my Aunt Lucia, Armilla," Mother said, ignoring her son. "She was a beautiful woman. I think you look a bit like her. You have the same dark hair. I got my lighter hair colour from my father."

Snape scoffed. "It is more likely that Armilla got her dark hair from Father, not her great aunt."

"I don't like to think that Armilla inherited any traits from Aurelius," she retorted, looking resentful.

Snape rolled his eyes. "Well considering that she does not have your hair colour or your blue eyes, and the fact that Father has dark hair and dark eyes, one would naturally assume that Armilla inherited her colouring from him."

Mother glared up at him. "I know it sounds stupid, Severus, you don't have to point that out to me."

He nodded curtly. "As long as you realise it then."

For a moment I thought that Mother was growling at him, but then she was talking to me again.

"Though Aunt Lucia was dead when I was pregnant with you, the courage it took to leave your father was most certainly drawn from my memories of her. Before her death, she had been trying to convince me to leave Snape Manor for good."

"I daresay Father would have done everything in his power to hunt you down," Snape said bitterly. "You wouldn't have been entirely safe until he was dead."

"And he is showing no signs of aging then?" Mother asked.

"I think he'll live for a long time yet," he responded, not bothering to stop himself from sounding unimpressed about the issue. "He's only sixty-five. He might cause Armilla and I further inconvenience by living for another fifty years or so."

"I hope not," I muttered, before I could stop myself. I had given up thoughts of being dark after my conversation with Snape, but wishing bad things about my father still seemed to come naturally.

Snape didn't look at all surprised at my words. He just glanced at me briefly with a knowing look and then returned his gaze to Mother.

"He is not as subtle as he once was, though," he continued, sneering, "and his curses are still strong, but his reflexes prove themselves questionable at times."

Mother looked pensive for a moment as she stared up at Snape. "I doubt the Dark Lord lets him take part in the more active Death Eater tasks now. His age may hinder him."

"Isn't the Dark Lord older than Father?" I asked, looking from my mother to Snape.

Snape nodded. "Yes, as is Dumbledore. Father possesses great skill and magical ability, but his style in casting spells is nothing like theirs."

Mother also nodded. "I would say that Aurelius' style is not as polished as it could be. He has been innovative in his magic over the years, but he never managed to refine it in the same way as Dumbledore."

"Or the Dark Lord," Snape added. "They both deliver their magic with very pedantic styles. Father isn't a perfectionist like they are."

We were all silent for a moment, considering these words.

"If Father is not as refined in his delivery of spells," I said slowly, "does that mean he would use more magical energy because the magic is not as focused?"

Snape looked approvingly at me. "It does. Very good."

"So he would not possess the same amount of magical energy now that he did years ago?"

He inclined his head. "He can still deliver spells with the same force, as we know, but he is likely to become exhausted at a faster rate than the Dark Lord or Dumbledore. His age would not bother him so much if he had bothered to train his magic more intensively like them."

"He preferred to experiment with magic when he was younger, Armilla," Mother put in, "at the expense of getting to know his own magic properly. Just like a fingerprint, everyone possesses a unique form of magic. Witches and Wizards are taught how to control their magic, but it is up to the individual to spend time practising their magic, getting to know the feeling of it within the body."

"Dumbledore and the Dark Lord were very aware of this at a young age," Snape went on. "They learned how to use their magic in such a way that it caused them little exertion. What the average wizard might consider a draining spell is probably a simple swish and flick for them."

I nodded in understanding. It all made a lot of sense. I could see why some witches and wizards were greater than others. They were more in tune with their magic.

"That is why I teach you such complex spells that rely on the mind's ability to multi-task. Such spells naturally encourage you to feel your magic more than simple first year spells."

"Speaking of complex magic," said Mother, "how is Harry going with his Occlumency lessons, Severus?"

Snape's expressed darkened. "Not well. I don't believe he puts any real effort into practising. I don't know why I bother teaching him when time after time I break into his mind with little effort."

Mother looked worried. "The poor boy must conquer it as soon as possible."

Snape raised an eyebrow. "Has Dumbledore been talking with you?" Without waiting for an answer, he continued. "Don't feel too sorry for him, Mother. He has enough supporters at present to keep his head inflated."

"Has he made no progress at all then?"

Snape's eyes flashed. "He may think he did the other night, but I am more inclined to put it down to a fluke."

"What happened, Severus?" she asked.

"He broke into my memories," he answered, through gritted teeth.

We both stared at him. I had broken into his memories before, back when he had been teaching me Occlumency, but it would be an entirely different experience to have someone you detest see your memories. But then, I supposed that Harry didn't like Snape seeing his memories either. I would have thought that would be enough for Harry to practise day and night.

"Did he see much that bothers you?" I said quietly.

Snape didn't answer straightaway and I knew the answer must be yes. At length, he nodded.

"He saw enough to give him something to think about I suppose," he muttered, not looking at either of us.

"What did he see, Severus?" Mother asked softly, looking concerned.

"He saw you and father...a typical scene really, you being yelled at by father," he said, still not looking at us, "and then just some random things that aren't significant."

Mother grimaced. "I suppose that did give him something to think about." She paused, still frowning up at him. "You've seen lots of Harry's memories though, haven't you?"

He looked indifferent. "Of course I have. He repeatedly fails to stop me from breaking into his mind."

"Well, you must have seen things that he would have preferred that you didn't see," she pointed out.

"Of course I have," he said shortly. He didn't seem to want to offer any more information.

Mother looked at him very seriously. "Has he mentioned anything about seeing your memories?"

He looked sharply at her. "No."

"Have you tried to use his memories against him?"

"No...," he admitted, looking like his thoughts were elsewhere, "and I would rather not stop Occlumency lessons to discuss his disturbing memories."

Mother sighed. "It would be nice to end family quarrels and reconcile with young Mr. Potter," she said, "though I know at the moment, such a notion is unthinkable."

"Yes, because the Dark Lord would just love that," Snape scoffed, rolling his eyes. "Perhaps I should just invite them both over to tea as mutual friends. I'll let Docky make his favourite Neenish Tarts and we'll sit around the table telling our favourite stories and let bygones be bygones."

I shuddered. "I'll pass."

He looked over at me, his black eyes glittering. "Are you quite sure?"

I smiled at him. "I have a fixed engagement with my manicurist. You've been neglecting my nails again."

He nodded, a small smirk on his face. "My apologies. Of course that must come first, but you will miss a prime opportunity to witness my attempts at polite conversation."

Mother glowered up at him. "Are you mocking me, Severus?"

He raised an eyebrow. "No, Mother, and if this paranoia does not stop, I may not invite you to my tea party with Potter and the Dark Lord."

o o o o o o o o o o o

"I wonder what it must be like having a centaur for a teacher," said Terry, as we made our way from the library to the Great Hall for dinner on Monday night. "Apparently his classroom décor is quite spectacular."

"I don't care how interesting the classroom is," Lisa said. "I still wouldn't want to take Divination. It's a ridiculous and completely pointless subject. Don't you think so, Mill?"

I shrugged. "I've never had much interest in it, and I certainly don't think it merits the same amount of attention as most of the other subjects offered."

"But I'm not sure if it should be ruled out completely as futile study," Terry went on. "I mean, haven't there been great Seers recorded in books of the greatest witches and wizards?"

"True," Lisa admitted. "But I still don't have much time for it."

"Nor do I," I said. "It may be useful for those who have the Inner Eye or Sight or whatever, but I'd rather study subjects that I have a chance of conquering."

"Me too," Terry agreed.

"Stop here, I want to go to the bathroom," Lisa said, as we came around a corner where there were girls' toilets.

"I'll go too," I announced.

Terry huffed. "Oh why waste a trip, Mill? Suppose I'll just wait here then, looking like a goon outside the girls toilets?"

"Yep," we replied in unison, smiling at him. He rolled his eyes and folded his arms in response.

We ended up being longer than we thought, as there were a bunch of girls in there all wanting to stop off at the bathroom before dinner. When we emerged ten minutes later, Terry had his back to us and was talking with someone. I couldn't identify who it was straightaway as the person was standing half in shadow.

As we went closer though, I saw (to my utmost joy) that it was my favourite buddy, Draco Malfoy.

"Hey, Armilla, Turpin," he greeted as Lisa and I joined them.

Terry also turned around and I saw that he had a wonderfully calm, passive expression on his face. I suddenly felt so grateful to him. It was a big ask of Terry to have to waste time talking to Malfoy without being rude for my benefit.

"Hi, Draco," I said, as Lisa merely nodded at him. "How are you?"

"Oh, I'm fine," he drawled, rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet. "And you?"

"Can't complain," I answered, though I would really like to, you slimy little toad.

"I was just having a chat with Boot here," he said airily, nodding in Terry's direction.

Terry gave a small nod, but said nothing.

"That's unusual," I said dryly. "It's not usually a habit of yours to talk to Terry."

He smirked. "True, I don't, but he's a friend of yours and it would be most discourteous on my part to ignore your friends every time I see them."

Terry scowled in the opposite direction, while Lisa glared at Malfoy.

"Perhaps you were wondering where I was and chose to ask Terry?"

Malfoy grinned. "Yeah, well, something along those lines. But we did chat too while we were waiting for you, didn't we Boot?"

Terry turned to me. "Yes, a most riveting conversation was held, Armilla."

Malfoy raised an eyebrow. "Fine, you choose the topic of discussion next time, Boot. I'll give you a mark out of ten on how much I enjoy your topic."

Lisa and I just stared between the two.

"What were you two talking about?" I said finally.

"The upholstery of the seating in the Ravenclaw common room," said Malfoy promptly.

"er...Why?" Lisa asked.

"I wanted to know if they've given you cheap rubbish up there in the Tower or if you have anything like the silks and leathers we have down in the Slytherin common room."

"Don't worry about us," I said. "Our upholstery is just fine. Quite acceptable by Ravenclaw standards."

"And that's a high standard," Terry added, looking indignant.

"Don't fret, Boot, I believe you." Malfoy looked most amused.

"Well, perhaps next time we can discuss the fabric of the hangings around our beds," Terry suggested.

Malfoy nodded. "I look forward to it." He turned to me. "Actually, I came looking for you, Armilla, because I have something to talk to you about...privately of course."

I nodded. "Fine."

"We see you at dinner then," said Lisa, as she pulled Terry's arm to make him walk.

"Yes we will, farewell Turpin, farewell Boot!" Malfoy waved regally.

I shook my head at him. "You shouldn't try to stir them up, Draco."

He grinned. "Why not? I really enjoy it."

"I don't."

"Well, in that case, I'll try to stop then."

"Yes, that would be nice," you simple-minded twerp.

"There's an empty classroom up here, why don't we use that?"

I shook my head. "It won't look good for either of us to be found alone in a classroom, Draco." I knew Snape especially wouldn't like that. "Besides, we might get accused of being in an unauthorised club."

He looked completely blasé about it. "I suppose," he drawled. "But Umbridge wouldn't give me any trouble. I'm one of her best and most favoured students."

"Oh really?" Have you been kissing the feet of her robes then?

"Yes, you of all people would know the advantages of having connections, Armilla."

I shrugged. "Let's go to the library, anyway. I don't care if you're in her favour, I want to play it safe."

"Fine, fine. Let's go then."

We turned and walked back in the direction of the library. Madam Pince gave me a funny look as I entered, seeing as I had left there not long ago in the company of Lisa and Terry.

"I know a corner where we can talk," Malfoy murmured, as we walked past a group of seventh years, who were clearly intent on skipping dinner in favour of extra study.

"I think I can guess where we're going then," I replied.

Sure enough, a few moments later we were in the History of Magic corner. When it came to History of Magic, students generally relied on their classroom text for their essays instead of visiting the library for extra references. Most of the time, only the more diligent students visited these mind-numbingly boring books. I believed Hermione, Lisa and Percy Weasley (when he had been at Hogwarts) knew their way around these shelves better than Madam Pince.

Luckily for me, Snape had collected any useful history books from the Merrigan Estate and had brought them back to Hogwarts for me to use. Some of them were his old school books, and they contained moving pictures of goblins. When I had first examined the pictures, I had discovered that some of them didn't quite correspond with the text.

One picture in particular depicted a small goblin knocking the head off another goblin when the text below was simply describing the regimented diet of army goblins in the thirteenth century. Upon asking my brother about it, he had given a small cough and had muttered something about being bored in class and experimenting with charmed pictures. He had also given me a warning look, saying that I was not to get any ideas and just because he had done it, I was not to test my creative skills by playing around with the pictures in History of Magic. Hmph! Double standards then.

"Well then?" I said, once we had come to a stop. I was impatient to go and join my friends for dinner.

Malfoy fixed me with a very serious expression. "I have a proposition for you."

Oh no, here we go again. Didn't the boy understand what I had said the last time? I wondered if I should just take him directly to Snape and let them discuss the matter together. Actually, it wouldn't be much of a discussion. Snape would do most of the talking with a very abrupt manner and then send Malfoy on his way.

Upon seeing my sceptical expression, Malfoy seemed to realise that he had chosen the wrong words to begin the conversation.

"Oh no," he said hastily. "I don't mean that...um...what I think you're thinking, that is. I just mean-" He sighed and started again. "There's a new group you might be interested in joining. It would have benefits for you and I think your brother would approve of you being a member."

I stared at him. "What are you talking about? I don't need to join any group. Besides, don't all groups have to have Umbridge's approval?"

Malfoy held his head up a bit higher, his expression a little too smug for my liking. "Oh this group already has Umbridge's approval. It's her group, you see."

"Umbridge has a group?" I said, feeling incredulous. "A group of what?" Hyenas? Donkeys? Sheep willing to follow her Fluffy Pink Cardigan Support Program?

"Students," he said simply. "A select group of students."

"Ooooh," I said dryly. "Now I simply have to join."

Malfoy held up a hand, looking a little amused. "Just let me explain and then you can be as sarcastic as you like."

I folded my arms. "Very well. You have two minutes. Carry on."

He rolled his eyes. "The group is called the Inquisitorial Squad."

"Very original name," I muttered.

"You're cutting into my two minutes."

"My apologies."

"You owe me another five seconds."

"Get on with it."

"The Squad is a group of students who support the Ministry of Magic, all chosen by Umbridge. The group isn't going to be put into action for another couple of weeks, but Umbridge is gathering supporters who will help her enforce all her decrees and show outward undying support for the ministry. We're all going to our first meeting in a few days, and she's going to explain our rights and stuff then."

I nodded in understanding. "So, it certainly puts you in a good light," I murmured.

He also nodded. "Yeah, and I think you should join too. It would look good for us, you know, backing up the Ministry. Heaps of Slytherins are joining."

Personally, I couldn't think of anything worse than joining such a group. I didn't want to spend more time with that toad-woman, not to mention the Slytherins. And anyway, I had always gotten the impression that Umbridge didn't like me much.

"I thought you said Umbridge was selecting the students."

He smiled. "I can get you in if you like. I have that sort of influence."

I raised an eyebrow. "Impressive," I said idly.

He smirked. "Alright, so you're not as easy to impress as Pansy. I suppose it would be hard to impress a Snape."

I shrugged. "I've got enough study to be going on with. I don't really want to add more to my To Do list."

"Oh, I doubt you'll have to do a great deal," he went on. "Just remind the lesser students of their place and keep people in line."

"I thought the role was to enforce the decrees and support the ministry."

He shrugged. "It's all the same to me."

I shook my head. "Well, I don't think so. Thanks for asking and everything, but I've already got more than enough to do."

That was fair enough in my opinion. I didn't just have homework to do; I also had extra revision time with Snape, as well as extra defence and healing lessons. On top of that, I liked to fit in time for my friends and of course, my visits with Mother. I always had something to do, and it was only going to get more hectic with the OWLs coming up. I didn't need to join a group and take away more time.

Malfoy actually looked disappointed. "Oh well," he said quietly. "I was actually looking forward to having a bit of power to share with you."

I smiled, though really I wanted to hit the idiot. "Just don't use your power against me or my friends."

He laughed, folding his arms. "Well, not you, of course. But it's going to be pretty hard not to use it against Boot and Turpin. I might catch them snogging somewhere."

I shook my head. "I doubt you will, but if that ever happened you should politely pretend you didn't see and go on your way."

"But what have I to gain from that?"

"Probably less resentment," I said evenly.

He stared at me. "You know, you're quite blunt at times."

"Is that a problem?" I knew my father wouldn't approve of me being so direct, but I could tell how to get around Malfoy to my advantage.

He smiled. "No, I quite like it."

I nodded curtly. "Good." Moron.

"Don't you think you should talk all this over with Professor Snape?"

I shook my head. "No. It's my decision. I don't think being involved will serve to my advantage." I gave him a significant look. "As long as my friends and I are not the victims of your ploys."

He smirked, and I could tell that he was pleased.

"No," he said. "You won't be. I promise."

"Excellent." I smiled at him.

I was starting to feel my Slytherin side coming through more than ever.

o o o o o o o o o o o

On Tuesday night after Snape and I had finished revising my work, I disclosed the contents of my meeting with Malfoy the night before.

Snape's expression grew darker and darker as I went on, to the point that he looked quite ill-tempered by the time I had finished.

"The nerve of that woman to start a group like that!" he spat. "I don't want you involved in that group. I'm glad you said no."

"Would Father expect me join something like that?" I asked.

He sneered, as he got up from the table. "Well, it is not Father's decision. However, I know Father's wish is for you to stay out of harm's way and do as much study as possible."

"Stay out of harm's way?" I repeated bitterly, following him over to the sofa. "Spending time with him is in harm's way."

Snape's expression softened slightly. "He means stay out of the way of anyone else who might cause you hardship," he said quietly, as we sat down. "This Inquisitorial Squad is obviously a political thing, and Father and I would both prefer you to not be involved in things like that. Father may have some power at the Ministry, but he has told me himself that he does not wish for you to take a stance at school."

"Stay in the background and get on with study?"

He nodded.

So I had to remain impartial. My mind was suddenly flooded with thoughts about the DA. I had had a proposition to join two groups. A team supporting Dumbledore vs. a team supporting the Ministry.

Before I had long to consider this, a darker, more painful thought crossed my mind.

Snape gave me a curious look. "What are you thinking about?"

"When are the OWL results sent?" I asked quietly, as my stomach performed a strange flip-flop.

He raised an eyebrow. "Sometime in July I understand."

"Oh." I wished I could have my results before the holidays. To prepare myself. I knew I had to spend a significantly longer period of time with Father over the holidays. If I was at Father's house when my results arrived I would be a nervous wreck. He would probably demand to read the results before I did. And if I didn't get all Outstandings...Father would certainly show his displeasure.

"Will I be staying with Father in July?" I asked, dreading the answer.

Something flickered in Snape's eyes as comprehension dawned on his face.

"We haven't yet discussed exactly when you'll go back there," he answered quietly, his black eyes fixed on mine. "Perhaps I should suggest that you go there in August."

I shuddered. I knew that Father would demand that I stay for more than a month. "What if I don't get an Outstanding in everything?" I asked softly.

Snape was silent, looking deep in thought.

"I suppose that was a stupid question," I said, suddenly feeling dejected. "I already know what will happen."

Snape looked over at me. "You'll be even more prepared this time than when you went there after Christmas. You know how to do more complex healing charms now." He leaned back, suddenly looking tired, "though it will make things more difficult if Father hexes you in the back again. It's an awkward place to heal."

I nodded, thinking back to the night I had received that horrible hex. I had never been in so much pain.

"You never know though," Snape went on, watching me closely. "You might receive Outstandings in everything."

I met his gaze, feeling nervous. I was surprised that I suddenly felt nervous in front of him. He had always given me the impression that his expectations of me were high.

"And if I don't...will you be disappointed?"

Snape looked thoughtful. "I've known you since you were eleven, so I know what you're capable of. I'd like to see your abilities acknowledged by receiving high marks, but if you don't, I wouldn't think less of you because I already know what you can do." He smirked. "More fool the ministry in that case."

I smiled, feeling a little better. Though Father caused me pain physically, it would hurt more emotionally if Snape was disappointed in me. His opinions on things mattered to me.

"And how did Mr. Malfoy take your refusal to join the group?"

I shrugged. "He seemed okay with it."

Snape raised an eyebrow. "Got round him did you?"

I nodded. "He's not going to bother me about it. And he promised not to involve me in any of his decree-enforcing campaigns."

He narrowed his eyes. "Sounds like you've been practising being Slytherin, Armilla."

I smiled. "It has its uses."

"Indeed."

He looked pointedly at my blue cushions, which were still sitting in a pile at one side of the room. My shield had been getting stronger and stronger over the past few days, to the point that I was only falling down about three times for every ten hexes now.

"It's my aim to have those cushions gone a week from now,' said Snape. 'You won't fall down at all."

"That's optimistic."

"I thought I'd give optimism a go."

We suddenly heard a series of hoots coming from my bedroom. Morag had been in a good mood earlier because Snape had allowed me to give her some of the expensive food again.

Snape sneered. "She better not have decorated that room with droppings and feathers again."

I shook my head. "She couldn't have. She's in a good mood."

We heard the hooting again, and I wasn't entirely convinced that Morag was hooting because she was happy.

"Are you recording your will in there?" Snape called. "If so, it is a good idea, for you may not live much longer if I continue to hear that noise."

"That's not optimism," I pointed out.

He looked indifferent. "It wasn't working out for me."

"She doesn't sound very happy." I got up and made my way to my bedroom, curious to find out what was causing Morag to make more noise than Snape would put up with.

"Morag, what are you-"

I stopped short when I saw my owl.

Morag was slumped in the back of her cage, hooting softly to herself. She looked terribly ill. It must have taken an enormous amount of energy to manage to hoot loudly to get my attention.

She suddenly stopped hooting. I went over to her and stroked her feathers.

She blinked once, but otherwise there was no other response. I looked closely at her eyes. They seemed to be unfocused, though she knew I was there. I knew she wouldn't have let a stranger she couldn't see properly stroke her.

"Severus!" I called, feeling alarmed.

I heard hurried footsteps and a moment later Snape was behind me.

"She's sick," I said, moving out of the way.

Snape bent down and peered into the cage at Morag.

"She's more than sick," he muttered, reaching into the cage and lifting Morag out of it.

I watched, feeling panicked, as Snape held Morag out in front of him, staring into her eyes. Morag didn't move much, either because she was too sick or she was nervous about being in Snape's arms. I thought it had to be the former.

I followed Snape out of my bedroom and into his lab across the hallway. I took out my wand to light the candles in the room as Snape placed Morag on the workbench in the middle of the room. She hooted once more and closed her eyes.

A lump formed in my throat. She couldn't die. She wasn't about to die, was she?

Snape took out his wand and waved it over her, muttering incantations.

I watched, thinking it wise to stay silent, lest I interrupt his work.

Snape muttered incantations for several minutes, and when there was no improvement in Morag's condition, I starting hoping that Snape was merely trying to diagnose her.

Finally he stopped. He turned to face me, looking exceptionally grave.

"She's been poisoned, Armilla."