Armilla

Chapter 65

Within hours of the Weasley twins' departure, chaos had ensued. It seemed that a large number of the students had viewed the departure of Fred and George as a signal to change the atmosphere in the school. In an effort to live up to the twins' high standard of prank-pulling, many students had taken it upon themselves to become masters or mistresses of mayhem.

If there had been little respect for Umbridge the evening before, it had vanished completely after the student enrolment had suddenly dropped by two.

All through the night, more fireworks had been set off, little explosions had gone off in various hallways, and it seemed that Umbridge and Filch had been the only ones called upon to deal with trouble. Indeed, even the strictest, most rule-abiding teachers of Hogwarts, including my brother, the Formidable Head of Slytherin, hadn't considered offering help to Umbridge. It was quite clear that the Headmistress was alone in this, unless you counted the whip-brandishing caretaker Filch.

"That's unfortunate," was all Snape had said on Tuesday morning, when a whizzing Catherine Wheel had passed us in a dungeon corridor. He hadn't bothered to give it another glance.

Filch certainly had his whip out, but I had yet to see him use it. All day long, people were causing destruction in the corridors, and Filch didn't know which way to turn.

Umbridge also had her hands full. It seemed that Fred and George's Skiving Snackboxes had suddenly come in handy, for many students were able to skip Defence on account of their sudden illnesses. By the end of classes on Tuesday, there was a rumour going around that Umbridge had been putting entire classes in detention.

I had spent the last two periods in the Ravenclaw common room, seeing as I had free periods then. As I made my way down to the dungeons to meet Snape, I realised that I should have allowed more time.

The corridors seemed a lot more crowded than usual. People were milling about with Bubble-Head charms cast upon themselves, laughing as other students became the victims of Stink Pellets or Dungbombs. Three times I had to stop an take a different route, because the corridor I was in was too crowded or because I had spotted the top of Filch's head amongst students, as well as the screech of Umbridge's angry voice. There were some corridors that I skipped altogether because the smell coming from them was too much to tolerate.

I spotted members of the Inquisitorial Squad dashing here and there, doing their best to catch the students responsible for the pranks. The problem was, there were too many miscreants now. Fred and George had left open an honourable position (in the eyes of many) to fill, and it seemed there were a high number of applicants, all keen to prove themselves.

I had nearly made it to the marble staircase when someone stepped in front of me, stopping me from descending them.

"Hello Draco," I said resignedly, nodding at the pointed-faced boy in front of me. Malfoy's usually slicked-back blond hair was slightly dishevelled. "Caught anyone yet?"

Malfoy smirked. "Oh I caught the person I was looking for," he simpered, rocking back and forth on his feet.

You haven't caught me, you evil little poodle. You never will catch me, you conniving little- My pleasant thoughts were interrupted as Malfoy continued, his expression nothing short of smug.

"How are you, Armilla?"

"Fine, thankyou, and you?"

"Oh, very well, thanks," he replied, the smugness never leaving his face. "In fact, I would say that I'm better now than I have been for quite some time."

My heart must have skipped a beat. Why would he have said something like that?

"Yeah?" I said airily. "Even with exams coming up?"

He waved a hand aside. "Oh, I'm pretty confident about the exams. I'm in a good mood because I'm feeling...well...rather optimistic about things."

I raised an eyebrow as I occluded madly. "Oh?"

"Yes," he said, nodding. "You know, you get good news from home, and then you feel as if nothing could deter you from appreciating what life has to offer you."

I stared at him, trying to work out if the boy had been hexed or something. He sounded strange. At my look, he simply laughed.

"Why, I'm sure even you, Armilla, who refused me once before, would consider going out with me."

I sighed. Relentless fool. "I've already said that I'm not going out with you, Draco."

His satisfied expression didn't budge. "And that's your decision, is it?"

Before I could open my mouth to retort, he swaggered off, leaving me to ponder the meaning behind his words.

I must have stood at the top of the stairs for over a minute, just thinking about what he had said. In the end, I shook myself out of my reverie, and descended the stairs.

"You're late," said Snape, striding out of his lab as I entered the sitting room. He folded his arms and fixed me with a stern expression. "You were supposed to be down here fifteen minutes ago."

"I know." My mind was still preoccupied with Draco Malfoy, and that was never a good thing.

"And your excuse would be...?" He raised an eyebrow.

"A combination of people wreaking havoc in the corridors, avoiding the Inquisitorial Squad, avoiding Umbridge, avoiding Filch, and having to talk to Malfoy."

"Malfoy?" he said sharply, striding over to me. "What did he want?"

I related the whole conversation to my brother, grateful for the opportunity to seek his opinion.

"So what does he mean by it?" I asked, as I followed Snape over to the table. "Do you think he's bluffing?"

Snape shook his head as we sat down. He took out his wand and conjured up some tea.

"Draco Malfoy isn't known for bluffing," he said quietly, pouring me tea. "Nor is he able to keep everything to himself. If something exciting happens, he likes to boast about the role he played, or if something is going to happen, he loves to drop hints about what is to come." He shook his head scornfully as he passed my tea to me. "He's like a five-year-old at times."

"So something is happening then?" I asked, feeling worried. "Why would he say, that's your decision, is it?"

Snape looked thoughtful. "He obviously thinks something has changed in regards to dating you." He shook his head again. "I would advise you not to think on it, Armilla. I shall investigate the situation myself."

I nodded, still feeling worried. "If you know nothing of it, Father must know."

Again, Snape shook his head. "I don't know. I spoke to Father quite recently, and he seemed adamant that you concentrate on nothing but your studies. He said very specifically that boys are out of the question for the time being."

I gave a hollow laugh. "Well, that's out of character for him. Usually all he wants to know about besides studying is my male acquaintance."

Snape said nothing for a few moments, instead opting to drink his tea.

"As I said," he said finally, placing his cup back on its saucer. "I'll look into it, and I will let you know. In the meantime," he paused to give me a stern look, "you are not to spend time thinking about it, Armilla. It would be time wasted."

I nodded. "I'll try, but it's a little hard not to."

Again, he said nothing. His silence made me wonder if he was actually quite concerned about Malfoy's comment. In the end, he simply changed the subject.

"Miss Parkinson sprouted antlers shortly after lunch today," he said in a tone of one merely commenting on the weather.

"That's unfortunate," I said evenly, repeating the same comment Snape had used that morning for the Catherine Wheel.

He gave me a dour look. I knew he was thinking of a few months earlier, when Pansy's curse had backfired, causing her to grow a flipper.

I held up my hands. "I had nothing to do with this one. I told you last time that I had nothing to do with the flipper. I don't do flippers and I don't do antlers."

Snape tried to renew his stern expression, but failed as I saw the hint of a smile come through.

"You don't really think it was me, do you?" I asked, though I already knew the answer. It seemed a running gag between us now that anything to do with Pansy being hexed was somehow linked to me.

"No," he said. "There are so many students running around the school hexing each other that it is almost impossible to point the finger."

"Actually, most students are trying to hex the Inquisitorial Squad," I pointed out. "Or anyone in league with Umbridge."

"I would not normally condone such behaviour," he said, smirking slightly, "but really, I am inclined to sit back and let Umbridge suffer."

"What about your Slytherins in the Inquisitorial Squad?" I asked. Surely, he had a responsibility for his students from his House being hexed.

He raised an eyebrow. "I would have thought that members of such a group were trained to deal with situations like the present one. If my own students were being hexed, of course I would step in. But the Inquisitorial Squad students answer to Umbridge whilst on duty. If they are being hexed in the halls whilst on duty, then they must report to Umbridge, not me."

I smiled. "That sounds logical."

He inclined his head. "My mother was a Ravenclaw," he pointed out.

"How is Pansy?" I asked politely.

'How-' Snape looked suspiciously at me. "Are you really asking after the health of a Slytherin, and Pansy Parkinson at that?"

I nodded.

"Armilla, are you feeling alright?" He was regrading me with a sceptical expression.

"Yes, thankyou," I answered. "Pansy Parkinson feeling okay means a great deal to me. I'm counting on her distracting Malfoy enough so that he'll forget about me."

He snorted. "That's a very Slytherin comment, Armilla."

I shrugged. "It's the truth though."

This time he didn't hold back his smile. "You would have made a good Slytherin."

o o o o o o o o o o

I took Snape's advice over the following weeks and did my utmost to keep Malfoy's comment from my mind. I didn't see a lot of him, mainly because the majority of my spare time was spent in the dungeons with Snape. I only really saw him in some of my classes, or else in the Great Hall. Each time we made eye contact, he would give me a self-satisfied smile, and I looked away in order to stop myself pulling a face at the twit. I tried not to worry myself about Malfoy's sudden boost in confidence. When he had asked me out, he had not seemed as cocky as he did now.

Snape had spoken to Father about Malfoy's comment. He reported back to me that Father hadn't seemed interested in discussing the topic, and had put it off as a school boy boasting about nothing. When Snape had pushed the subject, he had become angry and had told my brother to "forget about the Malfoys and concentrate on your sister's studying." Snape had also spoken to Lucius Malfoy about it, but Lucius had also laughed it off, saying his son was not about to give up.

I was generally too busy to pay Malfoy too much thought anyway. The OWLs were fast approaching and all my teachers were spending class time reviewing work. Some students had gotten themselves into such a state over studying that they had to report to Madam Pomfrey. Students were comparing timetables and how much time they had allocated to studying, and as a result the majority would still stress over not doing enough.

Terry told me that Lisa was going to bed at eleven, and was getting up at five every morning to study before class time. He only knew that because he was doing the same thing. Many students were staying up well past midnight. Before long, a significant number of fifth years were walking around the castle with dark circles under their eyes, muttering facts about goblin riots and ingredients for potions under their breaths.

I believed it was a part of Snape's plan that I live with him in the dungeons until after the exams were over that he could control when I studied, what time I went to bed, and what time I got up in the morning. He became even stricter over how much I ate, and how regularly I ate. He was determined that I would not become one of the students having breakdowns in the hallways over forgetting which year Fernando the Great conquered the Goblins of Tubeck.

I had to stop studying at eight-thirty every night. Then we would duel for half an hour so I could keep my shield charm strong. I had no trouble now keeping it up and performing strong hexes at the same time. Though I didn't like being told to put my books away at eight-thirty every night, I did love duelling with my brother. It was never easy, and I believed that Snape put much more effort into duelling me now than he did originally, all those months ago. Though duelling required my mind to be on constant alert, I actually found the half hour of duelling every night quite relaxing, but only because it was with my brother.

I hadn't heard from Father at all in a long time. Snape put this down to Father believing that time I spent reading his letters and then replying to them was time I could have spent studying.

Snape and I visited Mother regularly. It was an often occurrence now that while we would talk, Mother would suddenly become emotional and her image within the ring would fade and then come back again. Each time, the image faded for a little longer, and Mother would have no recollection of anything happening at all. This was another thing to worry about, and another thing that Snape told me not to worry about.

On the night before my first exam, Snape and I went to see Mother. Snape had made me stop studying for my Charms exams the following day, and we went into the Secret Wing together, and walked towards Dumbledore's office.

"Severus?" I said, as we walked through the dim corridors.

"Armilla," he said, looking expectantly at me.

"I want to put effort into my practical Defence against the Dark Arts exam on Thursday, but...I'm not sure if I should."

He looked sharply at me. "That's the exam I expect you'll find the easiest, Armilla. Why on earth would you suggest not putting any effort into it?"

"Because of Coleman," I answered. "When he came to test me at Father's house, Father told to fake everything so he would think that I had no natural ability."

Snape shook his head. "That's different. If you were to do well in your practical exam, it can easily be passed off that you had practised a lot, and didn't feel the stress of an attack, like you supposedly did with Coleman. The practical exam isn't really like a duel, and the things you'll be asked to perform are things you might consider second nature now."

"So I can do my best then?"

He sneered slightly. "No sister of mine would ever be half-hearted in anything related to Defence against the Dark Arts."

We entered Dumbledore's office and sat down in front of the ring. I leaned forward and touched the surface to activate it. Nothing happened. I tried again. This time, Mother's face came into view, but everything was a little hazy.

"There's got to be something wrong with this thing," I said, as Mother's face disappeared as quickly as it had come. "It's got to be running out of magic or something."

Snape said nothing. Instead, he leaned forward and touched the surface himself. The same hazy picture appeared briefly. It took two more attempts on Snape's part before Mother's face came clearly into view - and stayed there.

"It's getting harder to activate this ring, Mother," said Snape quietly, after she had greeted us. "There must be something faulty with the magic."

Mother looked doubtful. "I don't think so, Severus. The ring is full of ancient magic. It couldn't suddenly turn faulty now."

I looked around the room. "Do you think perhaps that the magic within this room has changed since Dumbledore left it? A change could have occurred in the warding spells or something that's interfering with the ring."

Snape looked thoughtful. "That's always a possibility with magical objects that contain weaker magic, but as Mother says, if this ring is full of powerful ancient magic then nothing should interfere with it."

Mother looked troubled. "We didn't...there wasn't a lot of time...I don't-" she broke of, biting her lip.

Snape sneered. "Thankyou. Very eloquent."

I ignored him. "You planned it all with Emiliana McGonagall, didn't you?"

Mother nodded. "She was my Secret Keeper when I moved into that muggle area when I was pregnant with you, Armilla. The ring had been in the Merrigan vault at Gringotts for years. I sent Emiliana to retrieve it when we became worried that I might be killed. I didn't..." she broke off again, and tears came into her eyes.

Snape's face darkened. "Research it?" he said, very articulately.

Mother glared at him. "Of course I researched it, Severus! I'm not stupid! I found out all I needed to know about the ring...I knew the risks..."

"Yes," he snapped, his lip curling, "that if we had never found you, you would have remained in the ring indefinitely, Mother." He shook his head. "What a risk to take."

"As I have told you more than once, Severus," said Mother in a clipped tone, "I do not regret it."

"But are you trying to say that maybe the ring has some properties that you don't know about?" I asked, trying to avoid conflict between the two. "It was so rushed that you didn't find out everything about it?"

After a long pause, Mother finally nodded. "It had been in the family for a long time, so I knew plenty about it...but I had never paid it a great deal of attention until I entertained the thought of using it. It could have some properties that I am not aware of."

Snape let out a sigh, closing his eyes.

"I was so determined to make sure my daughter would be alright!" Mother exclaimed, her eyes wide as she looked intently at her son. "Had you been the same situation, I am sure you would have done the same, Severus."

He opened his eyes, but said nothing. He stared at his interlaced fingers in his lap, apparently lost in thought.

Mother's face faded for a couple of seconds. As usual, when she was clear again, she had no idea that her face had just momentarily vanished.

"So...this weird thing the ring is doing," I said quietly, "it could be some property of the ring that hasn't made itself known up until now?"

Mother nodded. "I suppose so."

I shook my head. "Your spirit's been stuck in there for such a long time though; it's a bit strange for a new property to come to light now."

"Yes, exactly," said Snape suddenly, looking up.

"What are you thinking, Severus?" asked Mother, frowning slightly.

He shook his head. "I have so many thoughts about this that it is impossible to put them together into a coherent sentence."

Mother looked worried. "But I feel nothing when it happens...it's so very strange...what if I fade completely? I won't be able to warn you because I won't be aware that it is happening." She bit her lip again.

Snape and I were both silent. That was certainly a possibility. I didn't want to walk in one day to find that the ring couldn't be activated at all.

"I am reluctant to carry out magical tests on the ring in case it interferes with the already temperamental magic within the ring," said Snape a moment later, after Mother let out a small whimper.

Mother nodded. "Yes...yes, you are right, Severus. It would be foolish. I took the risk all those years ago, and now I must bear whatever happens."

Snape looked uncomfortable. "Mother, if I could do something...you know that I would."

Mother gave a small smile as she gazed lovingly up at her son. "Yes. Yes, I know, Severus."

We all looked in separate directions. It was really a difficult situation, and as all three of us absolutely loathed not being in control of any given situation, the problem with the ring was very stressful.

"Well," said Mother finally. "You are all ready for your exams, Armilla?"

Grateful for the change of subject, I was quick to answer. "I think so."

"I have stopped her study for tonight," my brother added. "She's been at it all day."

Mother nodded approvingly. "Good. I am glad you're here to make sure she takes breaks, Severus. And how are your fifth year Slytherins faring? Have many of them ended up in the hospital wing over stress?"

He sneered. "Just a couple. Not as many as the Hufflepuffs, I assure you."

I smiled. "Well, it's not just the fifth year Slytherins who ended up in the hospital wing over stress."

Mother smiled too. "Oh?"

"No. There were many stressed Slytherins about after the last Quidditch match, and they didn't even play. It was Ravenclaw and Gryffindor."

Snape turned to glare at me.

Mother laughed. "Didn't win the Quidditch cup, Severus?"

He merely grunted in reply.

Happily distracted from her troubles surrounding the ring, Mother's eyes shined as she gazed up at Snape. "And who won the game, dear?"

He sneered. "Not Ravenclaw." He turned to me. "When was the last time Ravenclaw won the Quidditch cup, Armilla?"

I shrugged. "I don't know."

"Ah, who cares?" said Mother airily. "Ravenclaws would rather be known for academic superiority rather than sporty competitiveness."

Snape snorted.

"So the Gryffindors secured the Quidditch Cup?"

"Yes," I replied. "The Gryffindors rather like Malfoy's Weasley is our King song now."

I had told Mother some time ago (when Snape hadn't been with me) about the song the Slytherins had taunted Ron Weasley with. She hadn't been at all impressed by it.

She shook her head. "I still think the song is ridiculous, whether the Gryffindors like it or not now," she said. She frowned at Snape. "And quite frankly, I am appalled that you allowed the Slytherins to do it, Severus. As their Head of House, you should know better."

Snape looked indifferent to Mother's admonishment. "House rivalry," he said dismissively. "The Gryffindors possess an astonishing degree of egotism; the song would have bounced off them."

Mother glared at him. "Well, I am sure that poor Weasley boy took it to heart. Good on him for winning in the end."

Snape made no further comment. Instead he spared Mother an apathetic glance before looking away.

"And you have an exam on every day this week, Armilla?" Mother asked.

I nodded. "At least one each day."

She shook her head. "You poor thing; an exam on your birthday. What subject do you have?"

"Herbology." It was just my luck that my birthday was during the first exam week. I was turning sixteen on Wednesday, June 10th. I would barely be able to acknowledge my birthday as it passed because of all the studying I would be doing.

Mother looked at Snape. "I know Armilla has to study, Severus, but make sure her birthday doesn't pass without some sort of acknowledgement."

He raised an eyebrow. "Would you like me to stick a candle in a cupcake for dessert?"

She glared at him. "Severus!"

"Oh alright," he said dryly, looking bored. "Two candles."

o o o o o o o o o o

The next morning came rather too soon for my liking. There were two exams on that day - theory and practical Charms. As Charms was one of my best subjects, I wasn't too worried. I was not looking forward to Astronomy or History of Magic. The butterflies I felt were probably more to do with nerves and anticipation, not to mention my father's face in the back of my mind.

"Wish me luck," I muttered to Morag, as I got ready to go up to the Great Hall with Snape for breakfast.

Morag looked like she had been tie-dyed that morning. She was a mixture of different shades of blue, with bits of silver here and there. I supposed she was trying to show her support of Ravenclaw. She hooted in reply, and fluttered her wings.

"Morning," said Snape, as I joined him in the sitting room. "How do you feel?"

I shrugged. "I don't know."

He smiled. "Then I'd say you're feeling just like most of the fifth years this morning. Come."

We left our quarters and made our way up to the Great Hall. When we were near the entrance, Snape stopped and turned to me.

"I daresay you won't need it, but good luck."

"Thanks." I was feeling more nervous now. "I might need it."

Snape looked at me closely. "Don't let the atmosphere created by the examiners or the other students overwhelm you," he said quietly. "I give you my permission to occlude."

I nodded. "I think I will."

"I will see you at dinner then," he said. "Come down to the dungeons for dinner."

"Alright."

He nodded, then turned and swept off to bully a bunch of third year Gryffindors who were being noisy just inside the entrance to the Great Hall.

"Hi," I said, sitting down next to Lisa at the Ravenclaw table about thirty seconds later.

"Hey, Mill," Terry murmured, as he turned a page in his Charms textbook.

Lisa didn't answer at all. She was too busy muttering incantations to herself, her eyes shut tightly. The other fifth years were also doing similar things, or else were staring ahead with pained expressions, as if trying to recall information that their lives depended upon.

I poured myself some coffee and tried to eat what Snape would deem 'a sufficient amount of breakfast'. I didn't come close to succeeding.

After breakfast, we hung around in the Entrance Hall with the seventh years as the rest of the students moved off to their classes.

At half past nine, we forwarded into the Great Hall. The house tables had been taken away, and there were many rows of desks, all facing the staff table.

As I sat down, I began to occlude. I pushed away all my nerves, and most importantly, all thoughts of my father. I had to do well in this exam. I had to do well in all of my exams, and I couldn't have any thoughts of my father around to distract me.

It seemed like ages to me before Professor McGonagall finally told us to begin, and turned over a huge hour-glass.

I turned my page over.

a) Give the incantation and b) describe the wand movement required to make objects fly.

I let out the breath that I had been holding. I smiled to myself as I began to write. Though the first questions were generally the easier ones, I suddenly had the impression that this was going to be okay.

o o o o o o o o o o

"Well, that wasn't too bad," Terry commented, when we met up in the Entrance Hall after the exam. "One down, way too many to go."

"I think I mixed up a couple of the wand movements," said Lisa, looking a bit flushed "Or maybe I didn't...I don't know..."

"Forget about it," Terry said. "It doesn't matter because you can't change anything now."

"We've got a practical to get ready for this afternoon anyway," I added.

"I'm more nervous about that," Terry muttered. "I'm afraid of forgetting everything because I've been put on the spot."

"You won't," said Lisa affectionately, taking his hand.

After lunch, we were called back into the Great Hall at various intervals, in alphabetical order.

Lisa and I stood together, not saying much. Terry had been one of the first called in, and as he hadn't returned, we had no way of knowing what to expect.

"Here we go," Lisa whispered, after Professor Flitwick called, "Smith, Zachariah - Snape, Armilla - Thomas, Dean - Turpin, Lisa."

We left Ron Weasley and Blaise Zabini, the only two students left, in the chamber we had been waiting in, and made our way into the Great Hall.

I was directed to Professor Marchbanks, a tiny little witch, who was very old, and more than a little deaf in my opinion.

"Ah, Miss Snape," she said loudly, apparently unaware of the unnecessary volume of her voice. "Aurelius Snape's daughter. Good, good."

I kept occluding. It wasn't a great deal of help to be reminded whose daughter I was when I was just about to begin a practical exam.

"Now, Miss Snape," she went on. "Please make this saucer grow to the size of a dinner plate."

I performed the growth charm needed without hesitation.

"Good. Alright, now turn it purple."

Another flick of the wand.

Professor Marchbanks nodded, making notes. "Now levitate it about six feet and maintain it stationary in the air."

I complied, hoping everything was going to remain this simple. Really, after months and months of intense lessons with Snape, this sort of thing was far from hard. Maintaining a dinner plate in the air was a far cry from maintaining a mental duelling shield using Occlumency.

When I was finally allowed to leave, I breathed a huge sigh of relief. Day One of exams was over.

"Well?" said Snape, looking up from The Daily Prophet as I entered the sitting room that evening.

"They were both fine." I sank down onto the sofa next to him, rubbing my eyes. Both exams had been a lot better than I had expected. I wasn't about to get overconfident though. I knew the tide would turn for Astronomy and History of Magic.

He smiled. "You looked relieved."

I nodded. "I am."

"Most of the Slytherins thought they were alright. Were your friends satisfied with them?"

I nodded. "They're happy enough, though Lisa's a bit paranoid about mistakes she might have made."

"Who tested you for the practical exam?"

"Professor Marchbanks," I replied.

He sneered. "Ah. Then no doubt everyone else in the room heard what she asked you to do."

I smiled as I nodded. "She's more than a little deaf. I wonder if other people got distracted by her."

Snape looked indifferent. "It's their problem if they did. They should be able to perform charms even if there are distractions." He shook his head disdainfully. "Malfoy has already admitted to me that he might not get the Outstanding he's hoping for because he lost concentration."

"Really?" I said, interested. "What made him lose concentration?"

"The wondrous Boy-Who-Lived," he answered, his lip curling. "When Potter came in for his exam, Tofty made some remark about him being the Famous Potter, and it was enough to put Malfoy off what he was supposed to be doing."

"What made Malfoy admit that to you?"

Snape smirked. "I asked him if he believed that he'd secured his Outstanding, which he had been boasting to Lucius that he would get." He shook his head again. "I somehow doubt that a smashed wine glass will maintain an Outstanding. His written work would have to be without flaw."

"Would Father feel better if I received higher marks than Malfoy?" I asked suddenly. If I couldn't get an Outstanding in everything, then perhaps outdoing Malfoy would be the next best thing. But then, would Father approve of me outshining my potential husband?

"You already receive higher marks than Malfoy," he said, frowning slightly, "and I'd say that Lucius is aware of that fact too, not just Father."

I shook my head. "So Father wants me to achieve high marks in everything, but doesn't want me to ever use them for anything...and we'll always pretend that Malfoy's marks were higher?"

"Fathoming Father's mind is a skill in itself, Armilla," he said bitterly, leaning forward to put his newspaper down on the coffee table. "Father keeps everyone at arm's length, so it is virtually impossible to spend enough time with him so that one might be able to say they know him well. Even as his wife, Mother never had access into his thoughts...unless it was through Occlumency I suppose..."

"Does it matter?" I asked quietly. "They never loved each other."

Snape's face was hard to read. "Well," he said, after a moment, "love is a strange thing. Even within the most strained relationship sometimes there could be a small degree of love." He was silent for a moment, contemplating this.

"I don't think Mother ever loved Father," I said softly. While it was true that I didn't know Mother as well as Snape did, and I had never lived as part of the Snape family with both of my parents, from all my talks with Mother I had come to believe that there had never been any love.

"No," he said quietly. "There was something... intimidation was involved...but you're right, I don't ever think there was any real love on her part. He was just the father of her child...well, children now."

I frowned. "And his part?"

"Oh, he loved her, I'm sure," he said without hesitation. "He was just bound up in his understanding that the wife was to be an obedient servant to the husband. It caused him to be abusive and his temper was another thing."

"How do you know he loved her though?" I had wondered before if Father had ever really loved Mother.

"Just little things," he said, his face still hard to read. "Mother's middle name is Ianthe, which means violet flower, and Mother's favourite flowers were violets. Father would leave violets around the house for her."

"He doesn't seem to type to do that sort of thing," I said. That seemed a little romantic to me.

"Well, as I said, no one quite knows how Father's mind works. He kept Mother at arm's length, but he always made sure she had her favourite flowers around her."

"So, it was just the material things then?" I asked.

He shook his head. "Not always. I could also tell from the way he looked at her when he knew she wasn't about to look back at him, like when her back was turned. He didn't feel the need then to remind her that he was in control."

"So Mother never really knew that he loved her underneath?"

He sighed. "I never asked. She might have known. It didn't help that she didn't love him back. But you know he was never the ideal husband."

It seemed like it had been such a complicated relationship. It seemed that Snape had understood as a child what love was, from both Mother and Father. Though, in Father's case, he probably hadn't meant for his son to notice when he was looking lovingly as his wife when her back was turned. From what I could tell, Father hadn't openly shown love to my brother, at least not in the way that Mother had.

"So that's why you're not to marry Draco Malfoy," Snape said suddenly. "Putting aside the whole respectable pureblood alliance thing, I wouldn't want to see you trapped in a marriage like Mother's."

"Do you think Malfoy would be abusive?" I asked.

"In his future, Malfoy only sees himself standing in front," he said quietly, watching me closely. "He doesn't see anyone standing next to him, only behind him. That said, I don't know if he would ever become abusive in the way Father is, but I assure you that your interests would not come first."

"Are his parents like that?" I was suddenly interested in the workings of these pureblood families.

He shook his head. "Well, Lucius and Narcissa are a little different. They do loathe anything muggle and prize blood and money above anything else and-" he paused, sneering, "they're both exceptionally vain, but at the end of the day, they do worship the ground that the other walks on."

I nodded. It was pointless being stereotypical about the Slytherins.

"That said," he went on, "if, God forbid, you were to marry Draco Malfoy, the relationship would be nothing like that of his parents because Narcissa did want to marry Lucius."

"And that makes all the difference," I said quietly.

He inclined his head. "It does."

o o o o o o o o o o

My exams on Tuesday followed pretty much the same format as the day before, except that it was for Transfiguration. I didn't find it as easy as Charms, but I managed to answer all the questions in the written paper, and I made no mistakes that I was aware of in the practical exam.

I was still staying down in the dungeons, which I believed reduced the stress of the exams. I knew all the fifth years Ravenclaws up in the common room were staying up all night to study and some were stressing that they hadn't studied as much as others. I was glad that I wasn't up there to feel the tension between them all.

On Wednesday morning I woke up early, as I always did on my birthday. Once I had sat up and could see clearly, I noticed one of Matilda's owls sitting next to Morag, hooting softly to her. Morag appeared to be listening intently. The owl had a package tied to its leg, apparently in no hurry to deliver it to me.

"When you're finished," I said dryly, watching them hooting at each other.

A few moments later, the conversation apparently over, the owl left Morag and flew over to me. It held out its leg and I relieved it of its heavy burden.

I opened the parchment that had been attached to the top of the package.

Dear Armilla,

Hipy Papy Bthuthdth Thuthda Bthuthdy!

I hope your sixteenth birthday is a special one. You will find the enclosed present especially useful for those days when life becomes too stressed or complicated.

The second package was left with me with strict instructions to give it to you on your next birthday. I have no idea what is in it.

With much love,

Matilda

I laughed when I read birthday greeting. I knew straight away what she had gotten me. I tore off the paper and wasn't surprised to see a limited edition copy of A.A. Milne's Winnie-The-Pooh, a classic muggle book. Another wrapped gift with a piece of parchment on top was underneath.

Matilda had plenty of muggle connections, and had excelled in Muggle Studies during her own time at Hogwarts. She had done a lot of Muggle Relations work over the years. When I had been very little, Matilda had often read Pooh stories to me, and I had adored them. I had been especially fond of the donkey named Eeyore, which had come as no surprise to both Matilda and Merle.

I turned to the second, smaller package. I opened the parchment and when I saw the very familiar handwriting, I felt a sharp jolt in my chest.

3rd October, 1995

Dearest Armilla,

I didn't want your sixteenth birthday to pass without you receiving what I always intended to give you on this special day. I am passing something on to you, something very special, which I received on my sixteenth birthday (yes, I know, that was a long time ago - I got in and said it first before you did!) from my mother, which she received from her mother and so on.

I am writing this letter because I believe that I may be gone before your birthday. I am just too unwell, Armilla, and I know my time is running out. Though you never said as much, I have sensed that you know this too.

There is so need to get all soppy and sentimental, but you know that I love you and will love you for all eternity. Just know that I am proud of the person you have grown to be, and I know I would have been proud of the woman you will become. Just remember to let yourself laugh at something everyday, and if you can't find something, never be afraid to have a laugh at yourself - Lord knows I laugh at myself everyday - just this morning I was searching for my glasses everywhere for ten minutes before I realised that I was wearing them. You weren't here to laugh at me.

I know it wasn't me who inspired your sense of humour, but I do hope you will always retain your sarcastic side. I know I have told you in the past that at times it can border on rudeness, but your dry and often cynical remarks often return to me when I'm lying in bed at night, and then I will admit to laughing myself to sleep. Honestly, I don't know where you get it from.

I pray with all my heart that when you read this, your life will be a happy one. I don't know what family you will be placed with, but I hope they grow to love you as much as I have, and be inspired by you to the extent that I have been.

If you ever do find out your true identity, and, as I have told you repeatedly, it is only normal that you would want to know, I hope that you stay true to the person you have grown to be. Whether you are Armilla Kemp or someone else, it is the person who bears the name that everyone sees.

It pains me that I will not live long enough to see you graduate from Hogwarts, but know that I am so proud to have raised a Ravenclaw (and I don't care what anyone else says, it IS the best House). Whatever career you decide to pursue, work hard at it, and give everyone in your path the impression that you are irreplaceable.

If you marry, be sure that it is for a love so strong that it is indescribable. If you have children, be sure that they grow into people you can be proud of - love them above everything else.

Finally, I am sorry that I have to leave you so early in your life. You might feel robbed of the happy things we never got to explore together - know that I feel this way too. But rest assured that I will always be watching - yes, you can't get rid of me that easily! I hope you have someone to go to every time you feel happy, sad, or just when you need someone to talk to. But know that I will still be with you, and draw comfort from the fact that in the short time I spent with you, I gave you enough love to last a lifetime.

Be strong, be happy, and even though I won't be here, know that I will always be proud of my Armilla. Though heaven can only be a delightful place, I know I will be homesick for you. You have a life full of opportunities ahead of you - do everything in your power to make it a beautiful one.

All my love,

Merle

That had not been expected. I had never for a moment entertained the thought that Merle would have done this. She had written the letter less than two weeks before she had died.

My chest still tight, I opened the second package, feeling a slight tingle run through me when the thought that Merle had also wrapped the gift entered my mind.

It was a wooden jewellery box, etched with beautiful floral engravings. On the top, there was a sapphire in each corner, and in the middle there was a perfect engraving of a Raven.

I opened the box and immediately heard the soft tinkle of a melody, as a small statue of Rowena Ravenclaw conducted the music with her wand. It was simply beautiful - and I was happy beyond belief that Merle had put this aside for my birthday.

I held the open box in one hand and I sat staring at the letter in my other hand, but not really seeing it. I did not cry, but I felt a strange sort of feeling. It was not happy, but it was not sad either. As the music continued to play, and the tiny founder of Ravenclaw continued to conduct the music, I just sat and listened, reliving so many times past, including the events that had occurred immediately after Merle's death: Shar's attack, finding Mother, finding Snape was my brother, living with Father.

This little box had been passed through many generations, and had seen many lives, deaths, triumphs and sadness. Yet it still continued to play its melody. The tune would finish and then start again with as much vigour as it had done before. It kind of reminded me of the cycle of life, and I realised what I was feeling. It was peace. Not with the world, or with Father and the custody arrangement, but with Merle's death.

I missed her more than anything, but though I didn't feel a rush of happiness or sadness, I felt a sense of peace as I sat looking at the letter and the box which she had saved especially for me.

After staring at it for a few more moments, I folded the letter and placed it inside the box.

'Where's that music coming from?' a deep voice called from the hallway. The peace I felt moved to happiness, simply from the sound of that voice.

I closed the box, and a moment later Snape strode into the room, clearly intent on finding the source of the very feminine music. At the abrupt stop of the music, he looked momentarily put off.

"I know I wasn't imagining it," he said. "There was music in here."

Morag started a melodic hooting from her place on the other side of the room.

"That's far from music," he drawled, sparing my owl a disdainful look before turning back to me.

He sat down on my bed and leaned over to kiss me.

"Happy Birthday."

"Thankyou," I said, loosening my hold on the jewellery box.

"Well then," he said, looking at the things on my bed. "Where did the music come from?"

"This," I said, looking down at the box. "It's from Merle."

Snape opened his mouth, and then closed it again looking concerned, as if contemplating how to remind me that presents couldn't be received from the dead.

"I didn't explain that well," I said hastily. "I received a present from Matilda, and she enclosed a letter and present from Merle. Merle wrote me a letter not long before she died, but Matilda had been keeping it for her until today."

His face relaxed a little as I explained, but I knew the concern was still there.

"That must have been a surprise for you," he said quietly, watching me closely. "Are you alright?"

I nodded. "I'm alright. Probably better now..." The truth was, the letter seemed to have done the trick. I had fully accepted her death. Instead of renewing the pain I had felt upon her death, the letter had helped me to finally let go.

"Better?" he repeated. "What do you mean?"

"Just...hearing from her," I murmured, "I mean, I know she wrote the letter ages ago, but..." I broke off, wondering how to word what I felt.

"It's helped to settle everything inside you?" he offered.

I nodded.

He looked at the box in my hands. "May I look at the box?"

I handed it to him, and he examined the outside closely.

"Lucky she had a Ravenclaw to pass it on to," he said. He opened the box and immediately the music began to play. I knew the music was far from Snape's taste, but he said nothing about it. He also said nothing of the closed parchment in the box, which he would have guessed to be Merle's letter.

"I've seen a Slytherin version of this," he said, watching Rowena Ravenclaw conduct.

I laughed. "You mean a mini Salazar Slytherin is conducting music in a jewellery box somewhere?"

He narrowed his eyes as he looked up. "No, he wasn't conducting. The music was slower and there was a snake moving around him."

I shook my head. "Well, I prefer this one then."

"Of course you do," he said dryly, looking back down at the box. A moment later, he closed it again, saying nothing of the letter inside. He handed it back to me. "I'm glad she waited to give this to you," he said. "I daresay it means more to receive it today rather than through her will."

I nodded. "It does."

"What the..." he muttered, reaching for my new book.

He mouthed the title as he held it in front of him.

"Is this a muggle book?" he said, after scrutinizing the picture of a small boy and a bear which was stuck in a hole in the ground.

"Yes," I said simply. "It's from Matilda. I've read it before."

"It's a children's book," he said, sneering at the blurb on the back.

"It's full of things that adults appreciate." I wasn't about to suggest that we read it together. That would be taking things a little too far. I believed that he might confiscate it after just one page.

He turned the book over and looked at the cover again. "Is the title...Winnie-The-Pooh...something amusing adults appreciate?" he asked. "If it is, I don't get it, besides the inappropriate terminology, which has been misspelled." He looked thoroughly disgusted by the book.

I tried to hide my amusement. "Winnie-The-Pooh is a bear," I explained. "He was originally called Edward Bear, and the Pooh part came from the name given to a swan by a child. But the swan didn't need the name anymore and so- Oh, never mind." I stopped as Snape's incredulous looked became more pronounced. Well then, I wouldn't bother explaining what Heffalumps were...

"Well then..." he said, handing the book back to me. "Just don't take it to Father's."

"I won't," I said, still trying not to smile.

At that moment, another owl soared into the room, a package hanging off one of its legs. I recognised it at once to be one of Father's owls.

"Oh, how wonderful," Snape sneered, "the old codger remembered."

I reached for my wand and performed the necessary charms to test for hidden hexes. After clearing it of any foul activity, I untied the package and ripped off the parchment attached to it. I read it aloud to my brother.

Dear Armilla,

Many Happy Returns. OWLs aside, I hope today is special for you - I regret not being able to spend it with you.

You are now just one year off being of age, but being sixteen is still a special age, and I hope to be able to spend much time with you in the coming year.

I have enclosed a gift, which I fervently hope you will cherish.

Good luck on your exams.

Your loving father

"Short enough," I commented. "But no where near as threatening as usual."

"He clearly didn't have much to say," Snape responded, looking at the letter. "But at least he did his duty and acknowledged the day."

I unwrapped the gift, and a small silver pocket-watch fell out. The weird thing was, it had no numbers on it. There were just blank spaces where the numbers should have been.

Snape seemed to know what it was though, for as soon as his eyes fell upon it, his face hardened. He looked furious.

"I don't get it," I said, staring at the watch on the blanket in front of me. "It obviously doesn't tell the time."

"No, not in the way a normal watch does," he said, his face full of the utmost contempt. "This watch belonged to Mother, and it was given to her by Father many years ago."

"How does it work?" I asked, intrigued, albeit a little put off by Snape's reaction.

"Well let's put it this way," he said, picking up the watch. "When Father would get up in the morning, he would charm the watch to make certain things appear where the numbers should be. For example, things like Oversee Jiffy preparing breakfast, Organise meals, Tidy books in library..."

"A list of chores," I said quietly.

He nodded. "The hand would point to what Father wanted done at the time."

"And Mother's day was planned out according to this?"

He nodded. "Generally, yes. She didn't always stick to it, and she suffered for it on the times when he found out."

My heart dropped.

"Obviously, Father knew I would explain what it was to you," Snape said, looking livid.

I looked up at him, and asked a question that I believed I already knew the answer to.

"Will he be expecting me to abide by this when I stay with him?"

Slowly, Snape nodded. "I would say so," he said quietly. "You memorised all the theory side of being a housewife the last time you were there. I would say that he wants you to practise now."

"But-" I stopped, feeling outraged. I shook my head. There was nothing to say. I had to go and that was it.

Snape reached forward and pulled me into a hug.

"I know," he said quietly. "I know."

o o o o o o o o o o

I occluded hard all morning as I sat for my theory Herbology exam. I really needed to after finding out what Father's present had meant.

I ended up having a great lunch though because my friends had organised a little lunch for the three of us in the common room, away from prying eyes. It was only a brief lunch because we had to do last minute study for the practical exam in the afternoon (Terry especially had to be sure how to re-pot a Mandrake). All the same, it was lovely.

Terry and Lisa had bought me a gift together, which was a proper silver watch, nothing like the one Father had given me.

I was absolutely exhausted that evening. Re-potting a Mandrake was only one of many things that I had been asked to do. I had Defence Against the Dark Arts the following day, so I still had some studying to do before bed.

"I don't think you need to do a great deal of studying for tomorrow," Snape said, sitting down on the sofa after we had finished dinner. "And I'm not just saying it because it's your birthday. I know from our revision sessions that you've practically memorised Umbridge's textbook, and we both know you'll be fine in the practical."

"I hope so," I murmured, joining him on the sofa. I hadn't even finished the first week of exams, and yet I felt so worn out. It was probably the tension.

Snape reached into his robes and pulled out a small box wrapped in silver paper. "Happy Birthday," he said softly, handing it to me.

I smiled. "Is this my cupcake?"

He rolled his eyes as he took out his wand. He performed an intricate little wand movement and a moment later there was a pink cupcake in front of us on the coffee table, complete with two burning candles.

I laughed. I would have to tell Mother.

"Well, go on, make a wish then," Snape said, staring fixedly at the cupcake with a strange expression. Personally, I thought he was having a hard time believing that he, Severus Snape, had just conjured up a pink cupcake for his little sister.

I made my wish, knowing fully well that Snape would know what my wish was. Of course, it was something along the lines of a life without Father and the threat of the Dark Lord. Wasn't that a simple wish?

I blew out the candles. "Mother will be thrilled," I said.

He shook his head. "No she won't. She'll complain that I didn't provide you with something more impressive...a pavlova or something."

I turned back to the box in my hand and removed the wrapping paper. It was a small bottle-green velvet covered box. I knew that box. I had held it not long ago in Merle's vault at Gringotts. I took the lid off the box and was stunned at what I saw.

Inside, sitting on white satin padding, were two tiny princess cut diamond earrings. There had only been one earring in the box when Snape and I had been looking at them back in April. I had told Snape the story of the quarrel between Merle and her brother over the earrings, which were worth a fortune, and how Merle's brother had kept the other. It had divided the family.

I couldn't believe it though. There were now two identical earrings in the box.

"How... how did you...," I stuttered, staring from Snape back to the earrings in disbelief.

"Enunciate," he said smoothly, looking slightly amused.

"How did you find the other one?" I said finally, after staring at the earrings for a few moments.

He raised an eyebrow. "I didn't find the other one. I didn't even look for it."

"But-" I looked up at my brother. "They're identical though. Are they different ones?"

"Oh, I assure you that one of them is the earring you inherited from Merle," he said. "I believe it is the one on the left."

"How can you tell?"

"I placed Merle's one on the left," he said. "Pick it up and look on the back of it."

A little puzzled, I complied. I turned the earring over and looked at it closely. Because it wasn't a large earring, what I saw could have been easily missed. In the tiniest writing, that would not have been noticed unless directed right to it, I saw three letters engraved.

MGK

I smiled down at it. Merle Gladys Kemp.

"I had never noticed that before," I said softly.

"You wouldn't have," said Snape, watching me closely. "I had it put there."

"Then..." If he hadn't obtained the original partner for the earrings, then...

I picked up the other earring and turned it over, searching for a small marking of some sort. Sure enough, I found three letters.

SJS

Though I had no idea what the J stood for, I knew it meant my brother. I was so touched.

One of the earrings had been divided from its partner, but now a new earring, a perfect match, had come to join it instead.

"You had the other one made," I said softly. It was such a thoughtful thing to do.

"I did," he replied. "I thought it would mean something to you if you had something that went together that came from both Merle and I. I thought of it when you showed me the single earring back in April." He paused. "Don't think I'm sentimental though," he added as an afterthought. I supposed that quality got in the way of his tough-guy image.

I moved closer to him so that I could kiss him. "Thankyou. It means a lot," I said honestly. "I love them."

"Good," he said.

"I do have a question though," I said, still looking at the earrings.

"Go on then."

"What does the J in your name stand for?"

"That's not important."

"Yes, it is."

"Are you arguing with me?"

"No...but you know my middle name."

"That hardly counts, Armilla. You only received a middle name eight months ago."

"Even so...is it a bad name?"

"You're too persistent for your own good."

"Is it?"

He sighed. "It certainly isn't my favourite name."

"Long or short?"

"You can count the letters on one hand."

"James?"

"Well done," he said dryly. "And how many hints was that?"

I ignored him. "Whose idea was it to give you that name?"

"Mother's," he said bitterly. "Father picked my first name, which was the name of his maternal grandfather, so Mother was allowed to pick a second name."

"Why James?"

"James Merrigan was our great-great-grandfather, and also James Potter's great-great-grandfather. He was admired on both sides of the family for his innovative creations in Potion-making."

"Oh...well that's not such a bad thing then."

He didn't answer; he chose instead to make some sort of "Hmph" sound.

I stifled a yawn.

"Well, we had better go and see Mother before you take a brief look over your notes before bed," Snape said. "She'll want to see you."

"Alright," I said, getting up.

He got up too, and I followed him over to the bookcase that concealed the entry to the Secret Wing.

"Bring your cupcake with you," he instructed, as he took out his wand to perform the charms that would make the bookcase vanish.

I walked back to the coffee table and picked up the little pink cake. "Why?"

He turned back and shot me a mocking look. "Do you really think Mother is going to believe you when you tell her that I conjured a cupcake for you?"