Armilla

Chapter 62

It was a good thing that Snape and I were alright again considering that school finished for the Easter holidays on the following Thursday. It would have been dreadful to spend the holidays with a peeved Snape.

We had two weeks off for the holidays, and Snape had managed to get a few days off duty so that we could go to the Merrigan Estate over the Easter weekend. I thought he was lucky to have managed it, considering that Umbridge was now Headmistress. As it turned out, Snape tactfully asked for the Easter weekend off right after turning in a bunch of first year Hufflepuffs for plotting to trip Umbridge.

I was especially thankful that I didn't have to see my father over the holidays. I was still dreading staying with him for an extended period during the summer, not to mention the thought of him bringing Rougier back. Even though Snape had threatened her, I wasn't entirely convinced that Rougier would stay away.

I was really looking forward to going back to the Merrigan Estate, considering that I hadn't seen the place since Boxing Day. Even if Snape wasn't, I was really looking forward to seeing Docky again. At least he wouldn't annoy Snape this time by wearing jingle bells on his big ears, like he had done at Christmas time.

I had dinner with my friends in the Great Hall on Good Friday, and then headed down to the dungeons. Snape had planned for us to leave after dinner.

As I entered the sitting room, Snape looked up from where he was sitting on the sofa, a white piece of parchment in his hand. "Guess what I have here, Armilla."

I closed the door, staring at the parchment.

"Another letter from Father to complain that my letters are boring?"

He rolled his eyes. "No."

"A letter of apology from Harry?"

He sneered. "When I said guess, I meant realistically."

"Yeah, I know. I was."

He narrowed his eyes. "Then you give that boy too much credit."

I shrugged, as I sat down next to him. I wasn't about to open the subject of why I believed Snape should still be teaching Harry Occlumency. I knew it wouldn't end well for me.

I continued guessing. "A letter from the Ministry giving you a warrant to Obliviate Father?"

The corners of Snape's mouth twitched. "I assure you, Armilla, that if I was to join you in this world of fantasy, I would be requesting for more than a warrant to cast a memory charm."

I smiled. "I thought you would think I had violent tendencies if I suggested something more sadistic."

"Who me?" he said dryly, raising an eyebrow. His face became more serious as he glanced down at the parchment in his hand. "I have here a letter from one of the Aurors in charge of Morag's poisoning case."

"They solved it?" I asked at once. "They know who it was?"

He inclined his head. "They do."

"Well?" I pressed him.

He looked up from the letter to meet my gaze. "Aren't we still playing the guessing game then? You lost the last round."

I glared at him. "I didn't give up. You just told me."

He smirked. "I gave you three guesses. I knew it was a lost cause."

I sighed. "Fine. Do I get any hints at least?" Snape loved holding things like this over me. It just proved he did like the play games sometimes - as long as he had the upper hand.

He nodded. "This person was in attendance at Father's dinner party back in December."

I stared at him. Father had invited lots of people to that dinner party. I couldn't imagine which of them would want to kill Snape or me off, considering most of them had come because they wanted me to marry into their families.

Perhaps Marcus Flint? He had certainly embarrassed himself that night when he had tried to grab me several times. But on the other hand, I doubted if he even remembered what had happened - he had been so drunk at the time.

Father and my brother had been most displeased about the event, and understandably too, but no one had been angrier than I. I hadn't done anything to get back at Marcus Flint. I had pushed it to the back of my mind. I had had enough to deal with on the following days - Rougier, memorising useless information and then Father's rage when I had insulted Rougier.

But maybe Flint hadn't gotten away with his behaviour after all. Maybe Father had secretly made him pay. I didn't see how this could link to Morag. But then, I could be wrong in thinking the poisoning had something to do with Marcus Flint. I decided to venture a guess though.

"Could it have something to do with what happened with Marcus Flint?"

Snape didn't answer at first. He was looking calculatingly at me, his finger tracing the edge of his mouth.

"You're not saying that it was Marcus Flint?" he said finally.

I shook my head. "No. I'm just suggesting that the poisoning could be linked back to that event. I think Marcus is too obvious a choice."

"He wasn't the brightest Slytherin I taught," he admitted, still watching me closely.

I shook my head slightly. "No, but he was so drunk that night. I don't think he would remember what happened anyway. Unless..." I stopped, deep in thought. Someone might have reminded him of what he had done. What if Father had paid him a visit? Father had been out all the following day. He had supposedly been visiting friends that day. What if one of those visits had been to the Flint's house?

"Unless what?" my brother pressed, clearly interested in having me work this out for myself.

"Unless Marcus Flint was reminded of what he had done...maybe Father paid him a visit."

"Go on." Snape leaned back and folded his arms, the now folded parchment lying on his lap. I didn't know if I was even on the right path. Maybe Snape was merely enjoying my wild tale.

"Father might have attacked him," I said slowly. "He was pretty angry that night-"

Snape let out a hollow laugh. "His anger would have been nothing to mine, I assure you."

"- and he might have let it out on Flint the next day." I shook my head again. "I just don't think Flint was responsible for the poisoning though."

Snape raised an eyebrow. "Why not?"

I was silent. The truth was, I didn't know why I thought that. I just didn't think he had done it. In the end I just shrugged. "Instinct, I suppose."

He nodded. "Well your instinct would be correct. It was not Marcus Flint."

I looked curiously as him. "Then why did you let me delve so far on the wrong path?"

He looked smugly at me. "Did I say that you were on the wrong path?"

"I...no," I mumbled. "So if it wasn't Flint, then..." I looked up at my brother suddenly. "His father?"

Snape sneered. "You're assuming the culprit is a he?"

The image of a stout little witch with pursed lips suddenly entered my mind. "Mrs Flint..." I said quietly, more to myself than to Snape.

"...is the guilty one," he finished for me.

Mrs Flint? Mrs Flint! I had never even considered the possibility of it being the boy's mother. I had scarcely spoken to the woman on the night, and had quite forgotten that she even existed.

I sighed. "Can't you just tell me now?" I had had enough of guessing.

Snape gave a tiny smile. "Oh, very well. It's a bit of a dramatic tale really, and quite a complicated one at that."

"Well, no wonder I couldn't guess it," I mumbled.

He ignored me. "You were correct in your guess that Father visited the Flint house the very next day. Conveniently for him, only Marcus was home. Father hexed him to such an extent that had his Mother not arrived in time, he would certainly have had to be hospitalised." He paused, looking thoughtful. "Actually, I am quite at a loss as to why Father performed such hexes. I would have thought that he would have arranged Marcus to be hexed, but not at his hand. He would have disguised it."

"It's too out of character for him," I agreed.

Snape nodded. "But the workings of Father's mind is quite another subject to explore. For now, I shall continue with the other tale." He paused again, obviously thinking about what part to reveal next.

"Eloise Flint healed her son's injuries reasonably well, but I have it on authority here that Flint's scars are still there. Eloise managed to have Marcus reveal who had inflicted the injuries, and she was furious with Father. It seems that Eloise was eager to have Marcus eventually join the Dark Lord's inner circle. In her mind, the behaviour of her son towards you would have turned everyone against her family. She became convinced that we were all working to discredit her family, and that all the Death Eaters were telling tales of her son to prevent him from being given the opportunity to take the Mark."

"Were you?" I asked quietly.

"No," he said at once. "But going into the reasons for that would divert me from the tale at hand."

I nodded. I would have to remember to ask him later.

"It has since been proved that Eloise was not of sound mind," he went on. "She truly believed that every Death Eater in the Dark Lord's service had heard of her son's behaviour and she made it her mission to be rid of the lot of them so that her son would be able to join the inner circle."

I stared at him incredulously. "Well, that's pointless. He probably would have been one of the only ones in the inner circle if most of the others were dead."

Snape raised an eyebrow. "I did say she was not of sound mind. Obviously that fact never occurred to her. It was her plan to have that poison spread throughout Hogwarts, and in particular, to Slytherin House. If the Slytherins became seriously ill, their parents would be called, and then they would become ill too, seeing as the poison was contagious." He looked furious for a moment. "She could have killed off the entire student and staff population with that poison."

"Not all the Death Eaters have children though," I said thoughtfully. "How was she going to kill them off?"

"I'm not sure I want to spend time thinking about it," he responded, still looking irritated at the thought of a such a poison being in the hands of a person like Mrs Flint.

"How long hasn't she been of sound mind?" I asked. The woman had seemed alright at the dinner party.

"Awhile," he answered. "It isn't always obvious at first. It started when Dalias Flint, her husband, found out that she had been having an affair."

I stared at him, too shocked to say anything.

He looked slightly amused. "Didn't I say that it was a dramatic tale?"

I smiled.

"Dalias found out that she was having an affair, though she managed to conceal with whom. He began cursing her to such an extent that she began to lose her mind. To walk out on Dalias would have meant disgrace for the Flint family."

"But Mother left Father," I pointed out.

"And I assure you the gossip on that lasted for years before Father began rebuilding his status again," he said grimly.

"Oh."

"Eloise appeared fine when she appeared with her husband in public," he went on, his dark eyes glittering, "but really, her condition was becoming worse. Dalias had become increasingly violent when she would not reveal with whom she had been having the affair. She became paranoid that others knew and were talking about it. I believe the last straw came when Father hexed Marcus. Her paranoia became more than she could handle."

"So how did she find someone capable of making that poison?"

"She was having an affair with Leopold Gillies," he said shortly, giving me a significant look as if that name should mean something to me.

It was certainly a familiar name. I knew I hadn't met him, but I had seen his name somewhere...on something I owned...

"Leopold Gillies," I said slowly, somehow hoping that saying the name aloud would help me. By a stroke of luck it did. "He's the author of that Potions book you bought for me back in January!"

An affair with a renowned Potions Master...and Snape had said that he could count on one hand the number of people capable of making that poison.

Snape nodded curtly. "At least I know you paid some attention to that book."

"I did read it," I said.

"I believe you," he said indifferently. "But my esteem of Gillies has gone down considerably. I had been considering using his book as the text for next year. Even if he is a brilliant Potions Master, his link to Morag's poisoning has turned me right off."

"So Mrs Flint got him to make the poison," I said softly, thinking about Morag.

"Actually, she put him under the Imperius Curse." He looked indifferent. "As a result, he has not been charged."

Something was still plaguing me. "But why did she target us? Was it just because of Father hexing Marcus?"

Snape looked thoughtful. "I have no doubt that Father's hexing Marcus contributed to her motives, but I also think that Eloise and Dalias were very keen for you to marry Marcus. It would have brought them very strong connections. After Marcus's behaviour there was no chance of such a thing happening, and I suppose Eloise especially was bitter about it. If her son couldn't have you, then she wanted no one to have you. In her view, to kill you would have been revenge on the rest of them."

"But the others might have died too," I pointed out, suppressing a shudder. "The act for revenge would have been pointless."

He nodded in agreement. "Well, the woman's mind has been playing tricks on her. I don't suppose we are meant to comprehend her actions."

"How did she manage to have it put into the Morgan's food then?" This was all so hard to believe.

"She paid a visit to Snape Manor a few days after your departure, on the pretence of apologising for her son's behaviour. Father was out visiting as usual, but Eloise managed to obtain vital information from that damn house elf." Snape glared at the air in front of him.

I looked at him warily. "Jiffy? What kind of information?"

He sighed. "It turns out that at the dinner party, Rougier and Narcissa Malfoy were talking about students having pets at Hogwarts. Eloise Flint was also there, listening. Having seen your owl, Rougier mentioned that you had an owl that you kept in your bedroom. Eloise remembered that."

I let out a groan. "You told me Jiffy was a snooper."

He nodded. "Eloise probably made up some tale of seeking advice on the best owl food, and asked Jiffy what kind you used." He scowled. "Jiffy had snooped through your things and was able to tell Eloise that you used Morgan's food."

This was just unbelievable. Snape had certainly been right when he had said it was a complicated and dramatic tale.

"So how did she get Morgan's to put the poison on your order?"

I noticed that Snape kept flexing his fingers and then curling them into fists. I was sure he didn't feel as calm as he looked.

"The Imperius Curse again," he said simply. "She may not have been of sound mind, but her magical strength was all there."

My head was buzzing. It was just so much to take in. A mad woman, hexed by her husband for having an affair, had used the Imperius Curse on the man she had secretly been seeing to concoct a poison, and had then used the Imperius Curse on a Morgan's employee to tamper with Snape's next order.

We were both silent for several moments, each of us trying to get our head around what had happened. It seemed so complicated. It was amazing how small and seemingly insignificant events could trigger such outrageous ones.

"If Marcus had never come at me in that hallway," I whispered, "...had I not walked to the bathroom with Tonks...this would have never happened."

Snape looked sharply at me. "Don't you dare start blaming yourself for this, Armilla. Don't be ridiculous."

"I'm not," I said distractedly. "It just seems so... unreal, I suppose. It's just so vicious."

I had rarely seen the expression on Snape's face, but he looked troubled. "Armilla-" he began, sweeping his lank black hair from his face. He sighed. "You mix with Death Eaters and their families now," he said softly. "I would do anything to have it any other way, but current circumstances do not permit it."

I stared up at him. "Do you mean things like this happen often then?"

He considered this for a moment, still looking troubled. "Not all the time. But Death Eaters have been known to become jealous of each other, and secret duels and various other dangerous happenings have occurred over the years in which the Dark Lord was rising in power. Families become involved. Poisoning Morag was just another example."

It was very unsettling. I had comprehended awhile ago that life would be dramatically different as a Snape.

"You were right," I said suddenly. "You guessed that it might have had something to do with someone wanting to take a place in the Dark Lord's circle, only it was Marcus Flint's mother acting on his behalf."

He nodded. "I have seen things like it happen before."

"So where is Mrs Flint now? Was she arrested?"

His face grew very serious. "This is where absolute discretion is required. Eloise Flint's case had to be handled very quietly. Had this event been made public, then obviously there would have been a great uproar about a poison like that finding its way into the school. Eloise Flint would have been arrested, as would her husband for causing her to go mad. There is every chance that Father could have been arrested for attacking Marcus, and as much as we would both like him to disappear, having Father in jail would not help us in the long run."

"The Dark Lord?" I asked quietly.

He nodded, his face grave. "To the Dark Lord, this event would seem petty at the very least. To have his faithful followers cause such trouble over an affair and who has the right to marry you would not have reflected well on our family."

I nodded, waiting for him to continue.

"It is one of the few things Father and I see eye to eye on," he continued. "We want you to remain out of the Dark Lord's focus as much as possible. I have no doubt that this event would have cast a light on you, and the Dark Lord would have been angry that time was wasted on petty poisoning cases and jealousy. In cases like this before, he just-"

"Disposed of the person in the midst of the trouble?" I offered, "as long as that person was of no use to him?"

He nodded very slightly, his black eyes fixed on mine.

I stared down at my hands. Snape had mentioned just minutes ago that the other Death Eaters hadn't told the Dark Lord about Flint going for me in the corridor. He hadn't told me the reasons why. But I was starting to guess.

Coleman had come to test my abilities when I was at Father's house. He had wanted to ascertain my potential as a Death Eater, and I had followed Father's orders to prove myself unworthy. Snape had never told me the outcome of that event. But if I had been deemed unworthy, then the Dark Lord would think nothing of killing me for distracting his other followers. If Snape, Father and any Death Eaters wanting me to marry their sons had shared the tale of Flint's drunken behaviour, an unnecessary and dangerous light would have been cast upon me. It seemed I was in a bad position either way.

"You won't tell me, will you?" I said quietly, looking over at my brother.

I knew he understood what I meant. He met my gaze, and for once, his dark eyes didn't seem like endless tunnels to me. On the contrary, they seemed full of the warmth I knew he possessed.

"It hasn't been entirely clear," he said quietly. "All I can tell you is that the Dark Lord is focusing on something else at the moment. Something he wants more than anything else. He was satisfied with Coleman's report that your skills were only average, but that could always change. Father and I would prefer to keep you out of his mind as much as possible."

As nervous as I felt discussing the Dark Lord's knowledge of me, I pressed the subject. Who knew when Snape would offer such information again? "Was he interested to find out about our relationship?"

Snape looked thoughtful. "He was interested, certainly, but he was not as enthusiastic as the Death Eaters were, and for that I am grateful. Other than an initial display of interest in the situation, he is now no more interested in you than in the other children of Death Eaters, which is not very much, I assure you. Unless you possess a wish to join his ranks, he is not interested. He will not waste his time on half-hearted recruits."

I nodded, feeling slightly better.

He sighed again, looking tired. "I do not like speaking of the Dark Lord to you, Armilla. I do not wish to cause you such anxiety."

"No," I said at once. "I'm glad you did tell me. I actually feel better about it now. Before I was just imagining what must have gone on after I saw Coleman."

He shook his head. "I couldn't tell you much then. And I can't promise you that the situation will not change, Armilla. Once the Dark Lord sets his sights on something he stops at nothing to achieve victory."

I nodded. Clearly, I had joined Snape in a life of living on the edge.

"So, getting back to the outcome of Morag's poisoning," he continued, "Eloise Flint was admitted to the closed ward of St Mungo's for the time being. She, Dalias Flint, Marcus Flint and Leopold Gillies all have no recollection of the affair, Father's attack, and in Eloise and Gillies' case, the poison. Information was obtained from all of them through Veritaserum, and it was clear early on that no one else knew of the affair or the poison, making it convenient to Obliviate them."

"But won't Dalias Flint be wondering what happened to make his wife mad? I mean, hexing his wife would have been erased from his mind."

"That's all been considered," he answered, staring down at the folded parchment on his lap. "I imagine the Aurors concocted an imaginative tale of some magic gone wrong that ended with Eloise in a state of unsound mind."

"So no more is to be said then?"

He nodded. "It would seem so. It was more convenient to Obliviate Eloise Flint's mind and hospitalise her rather than send her to Azkaban."

I understood. As much as I despised the woman now, I could see that what was done was for the best.

"Well, then," said Snape suddenly, pocketing the parchment, "I do not wish to dwell on the subject any further. It'll just bring on a headache." He stood up and gestured for me to do the same. "Let's spend no more time here. Are you ready to go?"

"Yes," I said, as I stood up. "I've just got to get Morag." I hadn't sent Morag out on any flights since she had been poisoned. I knew it wasn't fair to Morag, but I hadn't been able to bring myself to send her when I had ordered Easter eggs from Honeydukes. I had gone up to the owlery with my friends and used a school owl.

He nodded. "Be ready to go in five minutes. It's getting late and Docky will start bouncing off the walls in anxiety if we leave it much later."

Hearing Docky's name immediately made me think of our family's other house elf. "I hope Jiffy meets a sticky end soon," I said bitterly, as I made my way towards my bedroom. "I'd like to leave a trap for him in my stuff in case he chooses to go snooping again."

"I wouldn't advise it," Snape responded from behind me, making his way towards his own room to get ready. "If you kill the family house elf, Father might start treating you like his house elf instead."

The thought of that irked me. I would have laughed, but we both knew there was a bit of truth to that dry remark.

o o o o o o o o o

It wasn't the most pleasant of journeys; after Apparating to the small clearing in the forest near the Estate, we walked in the heavy rain until we had reached the winding narrow road where the carriage was waiting with the Thestral. The fog was so thick that the Thestral was forced to move slowly in the darkness. Even though Snape had used magic to dry our clothes and warm the inside of the carriage, by the time we reached the house, both of us were shivering, tired and in slightly irritable moods. Morag, however, had uncharacteristically slept through everything.

"Master Severus! Miss Armilla!" a voice screeched, as Snape and I entered the main hall in the Merrigan Estate.

Snape closed his eyes tightly, as if wishing to be granted the gift of patience. It seemed even the sound of his house elf's voice was an annoyance to him.

"Hello Docky," I said, as the elf skidded to a halt on the polished floor in front of me. He looked a most peculiar sight. Instead of the jingle bells he had been wearing on his ears at Christmas time, he was wearing fluffy pink and white rabbit ears on his head. I didn't think Snape had spotted them when he had closed his eyes upon hearing Docky's voice.

"Miss Armilla!" Docky exclaimed. "Docky wishes you a very happy Easter! Docky is thrilled to be seeing Miss Armilla, yes he is! Docky has made you supper, yes he has!"

His eyes, still closed, Snape reached his free hand up to rub his left temple. Morag, in her cage, which was being held by Snape's other hand, opened one eye and was staring at Docky wearily.

"Docky," I said quietly. "Maybe you should take that thing off before Severus opens his eyes."

At that, Snape's eyes shot open and he peered down at Docky. His expression quickly became one of distaste as he surveyed the offending Easter Bunny ears.

"Docky," he said in a voice of forced calm and patience.

Docky beamed up at him. "Yes, Master Severus?"

"I provide you with excellent conditions and food here, do I not?"

Docky bowed so low that his long nose scraped the floor. "Yes, Master Severus. I'm better off than any other house elf in the world!"

Snape sneered. "Then kindly repay me by removing those ridiculous ears. Would you prefer to be a rabbit? That could be easily arranged."

Docky gave a high squeak and the ears vanished from his head.

Snape nodded curtly. "Thankyou. You said you prepared supper?"

Docky beamed again. "Yes, Master Severus! Docky made hot-cross buns!"

That sounded good. I loved everything about Docky. Even his poor bunny ears.

Snape nodded again. "Is everything still in the kitchen?"

"Yes, Master Severus."

"Very well. You are dismissed for the night."

Docky bowed again. "Goodnight, Master Severus. Goodnight, Miss Armilla."

"Goodnight, Docky," I replied, smiling down at him.

He beamed and scampered away towards the stairs that led down to the kitchen. Docky's small bedroom was attached to the kitchen.

Snape let out a deep sigh. "I swear he's getting worse," he muttered.

I smiled up at him. "Did he have the bunny ears last year too?"

He grimaced. "I didn't spend Easter here last year, but on the last Easter I was here, he had a fluffy tail."

I tried not to smile, but didn't succeed. Seeing Docky with a fluffy tail would have been very funny.

Snape's lip curled. "It wasn't funny in the least. He looked ridiculous. Come, we'll leave Morag upstairs and then we'll go down to the kitchen."

We went up the grand staircase, and with each step I felt happier and happier. I was home. I was even happier when we entered my bedroom. It was exactly as I had left it. It was large, like my room at Snape Manor, but this room meant so much more to me, especially because it had been my mother's room.

Snape deposited Morag's cage on the table in the centre of the room. As I watched him pull my shrunken bag out of his pocket and use magic to bring it back to its proper size, a strange thought hit me.

"I used magic the last time I was here," I said. "Why didn't the ministry detect underage magic?"

"They would have if you had been staying here alone," he answered. "You can use magic at a teacher's residence as long as the teacher is within a certain distance. The Ministry recognises that a teacher can continue education with children outside Hogwarts because teachers are qualified to deal with any mishaps."

Oh. Well that was handy.

As I took off my cloak, my eyes settled on the piano in the corner of the room. It didn't feel painful to look at it. I had conquered my fears of Shar by sitting down to play for Snape on Christmas Day. I didn't feel overly happy at seeing it either. I supposed that was just because I hadn't played in so long. Sometimes when you spent too long away from something you weren't as inclined to take it up again.

Snape followed my gaze.

"Are you going to play it while we're here?" he asked quietly.

I shrugged. "I don't know."

"I think it would be wise if you did," he said, giving me a meaningful look. He was determined for me to play confidently again and overcome any remaining visions of Shar in the process.

I followed him out of the room. "I think we should visit the cemetery again too," he added, as he turned right and headed towards his bedroom so he could take off his own cloak.

I never liked going to the cemetery. "Do we have to?" I asked, as he opened the door.

He turned around in the doorway and stared down at me.

"It's not that I haven't accepted Merle's death," I said hastily, hoping to stop him from thinking along those lines again. "I just don't like it there."

He nodded. "Suit yourself then, but I will expect you to go again next holidays."

"Alright," I said hesitantly, as he walked into the room.

Having never set foot in either of Snape's bedrooms at Hogwarts or at the Merrigan Estate, I didn't follow him into the room. This was his domain. I lingered awkwardly in the doorway as he took off his cloak and deposited a few other things he had brought with him.

The colour scheme of his bedroom rather surprised me. I had expected his bedroom to have the same Slytherin feel of our sitting room at Hogwarts. But there was no green at all in this room. Instead, the bedspread was midnight blue with silver edges, and the walls were the same light blue as the walls in my room. The ornate fire place was very much like mine, and like me, he had a sofa and two armchairs, but whereas mine were white, his were the dark blue of his bed. He didn't have a table and chairs like in my room, but then, he had a study downstairs.

I got over my surprise very quickly. I reasoned that this was probably the room Snape had used as a child when he had come with Mother, therefore Mother had probably decorated it, not knowing that her son would be a Slytherin. If that was the case, then it was endearing that Snape had not changed the colours in his bedroom.

He said nothing about me lingering in the doorway, but he didn't stay in the room long anyway. I followed him back downstairs and then down the stairs that led to the kitchen.

The kitchen was a huge room in the basement, with a long marble bench with stools placed here and there. There was also a wooden table with a couple of chairs around it, which I supposed Docky used more than anyone else. Placed upon it were two steaming mugs and a plate of hot-cross buns.

We sat down and helped ourselves, quickly devouring what Docky had left us. We didn't talk much as we ate, and I thought that was because both of us were preoccupied with the Auror's report on Morag's poisoning. It would take awhile to let that sink in.

We were just finishing the last of our meal when a high pitched "Whoopsies!" came from Docky's room.

I nearly jumped a mile, but for Snape's part, it was as if he had heard nothing at all.

"Whoopsies?" I repeated, looking questioningly at my brother.

He rolled his eyes and put down his cup. "Learn to ignore it," he said simply. "The elf talks in his sleep."

o o o o o o o o o

On Saturday evening before dinner, Snape and I were to be found in the long narrow sitting room in which we had practised duelling the year before.

We had been duelling non-stop for half an hour, and I had only fallen down once. Now that I had gotten the hang of maintaining my shield whilst casting a hex, I was focusing on putting more strength into my hexes. The strongest hex I had delivered so far had caused my shield to break down and I had fallen backwards onto the cushions I had conjured.

"You've certainly made an improvement," Snape commented, after he'd finally lowered his wand.

"I'm just worried that I'll lose my nerve if I ever do get into a situation where I'll have to use the shield," I said, also lowering my wand. "At the moment I can concentrate easily knowing that I'm not really in danger."

"You won't lose your nerve," he said, very matter-of-factly.

"How do you know?" His confidence in me kind of put me off.

He raised an eyebrow. "You doubt me?"

"I feel put off that you have such confidence in me," I answered. "You might be disappointed."

"I do not feel a need to explain myself," he said evenly. "If a situation ever arises where you will need to use the shield, you will not lose your nerve."

I shook my head. He had way too much confidence in me. I mean, I had fallen over from a failed shield not five minutes ago! Unless... he was employing cunning means by which to have me succeed. Very Slytherin.

"Reverse psychology," I said, looking innocently at him. "I'll succeed because I know I can't fail?"

He narrowed his eyes at me. "Slytherin."

I smiled. "Well, it is very Slytherin."

He smirked. "No, I was calling you a Slytherin."

I looked crossly at him. "Oh."

He smiled back at me as I followed him out of the room and down the hall. "You're part Slytherin whether you like it or not."

As we entered the entrance hall, I head scurrying footsteps and a loud sneeze coming from the direction of the kitchen stairs. We turned to see Docky bounding towards us, a crumpled handkerchief in one hand and a carrot in the other.

"Master Achoo!" Docky blew his nose hard into his handkerchief. Snape's lip curled at the sight.

"Master Severus!" Docky began again, his voice more nasal than usual. "Docky has a dilemma. Master Severus likes broccoli and Miss Armilla likes cauliflower. Which is Docky to cook tonight?"

Ah, telling Docky what I liked that morning was paying off. I would have to give him a list of my favourite desserts. But not now; it sounded like he had a cold.

Snape looked far from pleased. "If you are trying to decide between broccoli and cauliflower, Docky, why is it that you are holding a carrot?"

Docky looked down at the carrot in his little hand. "Docky is about to dispose of this carrot, Master Severus."

Snape raised an eyebrow. "Why?"

"Docky sneezed on it, sir."

Snape closed his eyes in annoyance.

"At least he's demonstrating good hygiene," I pointed out. Docky beamed at me.

Snape opened his eyes and threw me a withering glare, which softened the tiniest bit when I smiled at him.

"Docky," he said, turning back to the elf in front of us. "Have you started preparing dinner yet?"

Docky sneezed twice before answering. "Docky has gotten out the chicken, Master Severus, but he has not cooked it yet."

Snape nodded curtly. "Well then, that will be all for tonight."

Docky frowned. "Miss Hazel wouldn't have approved of you eating raw chicken, sir."

"I know that!" Snape snapped, taking out his wand. "But I would prefer to not have my dinner infested with the germs from your cold." He waved his wand, muttering several incantations under his breath. I heard several locks click back from his private potions lab and a moment later a small bottle was zooming through the air towards us. Snape caught it deftly and started to walk towards the kitchen. "Come."

Docky and I looked at each other before following Snape down the stairs and into the kitchen. We watched as Snape poured some of the contents of the bottle into a small glass and then diluted it with some milk. He held the glass out to Docky. "Drink this. It will help the cold."

Docky took the glass and downed the potion, gulping loudly.

"Why does he get to have milk in it?" I asked. Potions were rarely nice to drink, but milk would have made a big difference.

"Elves require different strengths in potions to witches and wizards," Snape replied, sealing the bottle. "Some things they require to be weaker and some things need to be stronger. If I had given him this potion straight then his ears would have been smoking for a week." He turned to Docky and held his hand out for the glass, which was promptly returned.

"Thankyou, Master Severus, sir."

Snape nodded curtly. "Go to bed, Docky."

"Docky must cook dinner, sir."

Snape shook his head. "I believe I already made it clear that you are not preparing dinner tonight. We will take care of it."

I looked curiously at him. "Can you cook?"

He looked affronted. "Of course I can cook! I am a Potions Master. Cooking is a much simpler skill, but I believe I can manage it."

"Master Severus is a good cook, Miss Armilla," Docky squeaked. "He used to cook with Miss Hazel. Once he made a trifle so high that it fell on my head and-"

"Docky!" Snape interrupted, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I believe I just told you to go to bed."

"Yes, Master Severus!" the elf responded cheerfully. He turned and bounced away towards his bedroom. It was hard to tell that he was suffering from a cold.

"Are you going to make me a trifle?" I asked hopefully. I loved trifle.

"No," he said smoothly, accioing a few potatoes towards him. He glanced over at the closed door of the room Docky had just gone into. "The truth is," he murmured, "I only made that trifle in the first place so that it would topple over onto Docky's head."

"That's awful!" I exclaimed, horrified. "How old were you?"

He shrugged. "I don't know. Nine or ten, I suppose. One of the rare occasions I came with Mother here."

I shook my head. "What did Docky do to warrant that?"

"He told me that I looked like my father," he answered, looking grim. "It might be the truth, but I didn't appreciate it one bit at the time."

I didn't laugh. I understood. Snape did look a little bit like Father, but it was no help to tell him so.

"What are you making?" I asked, sitting down on a stool on the other side of the bench.

"What are we making, you mean?' he said, looking up from the potatoes, which were now being peeled in mid air with a magic-enhanced peeler.

'You're probably far better at cooking than me," I pointed out. I had gotten over my surprise that Snape could cook. But if his cooking skills were anything like his Potions skills, then I would be no match for him.

He raised an eyebrow. "Praise indeed." He gestured to the raw chicken fillets that Docky had gotten out. "You can marinate and cook the chicken."

Nodding, I got up to get the things I needed.

"Didn't Merle teach you how to cook?" Snape asked, directing another peeler to peel a zucchini.

I nodded. "She taught me how to do a few things-" I was silent for a moment, thinking about Merle's kitchen. The last time I had been in it, Shar had come at me with a knife. I shook my head, pushing Shar's face from my mind. No. I had moved past that now.

"Armilla?" I looked up to see Snape looking curiously at me. "What are you thinking about?"

I decided to be honest. He wouldn't appreciate me saying "nothing important", like I was tempted to. "The last time I was in Merle's kitchen," I admitted. "Shar was there."

Snape face held a hint of concern. "Armilla, you're not-"

"I haven't been thinking about him," I said hastily. "I haven't thought about him in a long time...Honestly," I added, when he continued to stare at me.

He nodded, his eyes never leaving mine. "Very well, but you know I want you to tell me if he starts plaguing your mind again."

I nodded. "I know."

I watched as he made a few eggs crack themselves into a bowl, and then directed a beater to mix them. "That was an eventful day," he went on.

I grunted as I reached for the chicken. "One I'd rather forget."

"I have no doubt," he replied. "I was certainly surprised to see you suddenly appear like that in the Headmaster's office."

I looked up at him thoughtfully. "Lucky you were there, really."

"Needless to say, you weren't in a good way," he said quietly. "It would have been much more serious if you had been alone."

I smiled. "I bet you thought it was just your luck that you had to be the one to deal with it."

He gave a small smile. "I won't deny it. Nor will I admit how many times I cursed."

I laughed. "I don't remember anything anyway."

He scoffed. "You were blissfully unconscious."

I shook my head. "I wouldn't say blissfully."

He smirked. "I would. Now, you were saying that Merle did teach you to cook a few things?"

I nodded. "I taught myself mostly in the end. She was too sick to cook." I smiled as I looked up at him. "Actually, I'm not sure if my cooking would have made her feel much better."

"I'm sure she appreciated it just the same," Snape said softly, casting me a knowing glance as he directed a knife to begin cutting the potatoes.

I took out my own wand and used magic to prepare the chicken. "I suppose so."

Half an hour later we sat down at the kitchen table to eat. Generally we ate in the breakfast room upstairs, but we didn't bother this time, seeing as we were already in the kitchen.

"There's nothing wrong with your cooking," Snape commented, after sampling my chicken. "It's good. I'm sure you'll agree after you've finished the cauliflower."

I nodded. As usual, I had gone straight for the cauliflower. Lisa and Terry had never understood my fetish for cauliflower, but at least Snape had cooked it for me.

"Do you think I'll have to do the same thing everyday again at Father's house?" I asked, stabbing a bit of chicken. "Memorise books again, I mean."

Snape looked thoughtful. "I suppose there will be more books for you to read, so more to memorise." His face darkened. "Actually, I think Father might also use the time to have you become better acquainted with the potential young men who were at the dinner party."

I groaned. "That's a lot of Draco Malfoy."

"Indeed it is," he replied, sneering down at his plate. "Lucius has been dropping endless hints to both Father and I to have Draco spend more time with you." He looked up from his plate to meet my gaze. "Needless to say that he's been getting further with Father than with me."

I frowned. "But won't that put you on bad terms with him?"

He shook his head. "Not at all, I assure you. We may disagree on some things, but in all other circumstances I play my part well."

We were both silent for a moment. I thought it must be a strange thing to maintain a false friendship with Lucius Malfoy. I bet Lucius thought that he and Snape were great pals.

"I don't believe you'll be seeing Rougier though," Snape said, moving the subject away from Lucius Malfoy.

"Father might have employed someone even worse," I pointed out.

He smirked. "And you think I'm a cynic. What if it was someone like Mary Donahey?"

I smiled. I had loved Mary Donahey in the end. Tonks had played her role as the professional dance instructor well. "That would be good," I admitted. "But I wouldn't want Tonks to do it. It would be too dangerous."

Snape said nothing, choosing instead to drink his wine.

"If I'm there for a lot longer," I continued, "chances are that Father will get another governess."

He nodded. "I agree...we'll have to do something about that." He sneered. "There is no way I will tolerate another Zita Rougier having that kind of power over you."

I certainly had no problem with that. I still felt an urge to tear something to shreds every time I thought of that woman.

"I'm not sure I'll last a month or so with him," I said quietly. "I barely made the week last time."

Snape shook his head. "You'll be fine. You did well the last time. You just need to make sure you don't let yourself be provoked." He gave me a stern look. "That means no comments about painted old hags, Armilla, no matter how sorely you are tempted."

I didn't answer. An image of Rougier powdered face suddenly flashed in my mind. Painted old hag...

"You'll certainly need to maintain some strength with Father," Snape went on, still looking stern. "I believe he is getting worse. His actions are becoming more unpredictable." He shook his head. "He is becoming increasingly frustrated with himself and he may not hesitate to take it out on you."

"What's making him worse?" I asked, feeling quite worried now.

"Remember that conversation we had with Mother about Father's decreasing amount of magical energy?"

I nodded. Snape had explained that even though Father was younger than Dumbledore and the Dark Lord, his style of delivering magic was not as polished as theirs, as he had not taken the trouble over the years to understand his own magic and refine it. He had invented his own range of hexes, and his force was strong and had the desired effects, but because he had been careless about his control of magic in his earlier days, he was more likely to tire easily or be slower when casting magic now.

"It has become apparent to the Dark Lord that Father's abilities aren't what they were years ago," Snape continued. "As a result, Father is being given less and less responsibility."

I understood that perfectly well. That would be infuriating Father. "I hope I don't feel the brunt of that."

Snape nodded. "That's why you'll have to be extremely careful. You are not to step out of line at any moment."

I nodded. I hadn't been looking forward to going to Father's house the last time, but if it was possible, I was dreading the next visit even more.