The Embittering of Severus Snape

Lucius stumbled as he arrived, still disoriented from the sudden tug of the portkey. He didn't speak, but instead tossed the thin book onto Severus' lumpy bed, garnering a grunt from its occupant. Without waiting around to explain, he lurched unsteadily into the adjacent bathroom and retched violently into the toilet. He had no idea how much time passed before he felt Severus pulling back his long blond hair.

Later, in a whispered conversation, he related the night's events. "It never occurred to me that the Dark Lord would expect us to perform that particular brand of torture," he said delicately, his eyes fixed on his hands, which was all he could see in the darkness. He wasn't so much worried about Severus' innocent young ears as he was about upsetting his still churning stomach. Watching the older men force themselves on the mudblood's mother had sickened him far more than he'd anticipated. "Thank Merlin he doesn't dare let us participate so long as we're under Dumbledore's watch. Crabbe and Minchew didn't seem to mind -" he stopped, then continued, his discomfort making him uncharacteristically honest. "Of course, I didn't SEEM to mind either, couldn't afford to, really. Maybe they were just as upset, for all I know." Even as he said it, he knew it wasn't true. The unholy, anticipatory gleam in his dorm mates eyes was part of what had made him so ill.

Severus sat cross-legged on his bed facing the older boy, a solemn expression on his face. His mind was already processing how exactly he was going to explain all this to Mur when it was his turn to face it. "You'll have to tell Narci," he whispered finally.

Lucius cringed. That was NOT a conversation to look forward to, but Severus was correct. If he didn't tell her, he could count on Bellatrix to owl her about it the first time he had to participate in such a thing. He and Bella had gotten some things straight earlier in the summer, thankfully without an actual duel. There would be no more hostility between her and Narcissa. Lucius and his father were very much in favor with the Dark Lord just now, and he hadn't hesitated to use that clout to blackmail the brutal beauty into backing down. The down side to their renewed civility was that Narcissa was once again opening her letters, and Bella would surely be present each and every time Lucius was summoned to the Dark Lord's side. He couldn't let her be the bearer of that particular news. No. He would have to speak to Narci about it as soon as school began, before he was required to do anything.

* * * * * * *

"What are you saying, Lucius?" Narcissa looked up at him from her desk. Her dorm room had cleared as soon as he flew through the door, except for Korina Knott, who'd caught the stunning spell that he dodged. Lucius had simply levitated her into the hallway and let her slide, unconscious, down to the common room. It was a shame that Tantry had been so diligent about fixing the statues. No one had been foolish enough to inform the Head of House who had been responsible for their destruction in the first place.

"I'm saying that it's likely that the Dark Lord will expect something similar from me." He heard the words as he spoke them and thanked Merlin yet again for the years he'd spent perfecting his mask of indifference. Otherwise, he was sure she would see just how upset he was about it all, and he couldn't afford that.

"Not until we finish school, surely," she replied primly. Then she lowered her voice to a confidential whisper. "He can't afford for Dumbledore to get wind of it."

"We finish school three weeks before the wedding, Narci," he replied dryly, trying to get his point across without upsetting her. He'd thought it through every way but sideways. There was no escaping this fate. He'd even briefly spoken with his father about it, only to be told that it was, indeed, one of the benefits of being a Death Eater. At the time, he'd smirked wickedly, matching his expression to that of his father, and silently reaffirming his vow to kill the man just as soon as Severus was out of school to help him. He rubbed his thumb and forefinger together unconsciously, remembering the blood pact they'd made only a few weeks previous. He'd help kill Mr. Snape if Severus would help kill Mr. Malfoy. It shouldn't be hard. Severus' father liked to drink and Mr. Malfoy could be counted on to sleep through anything. They had gotten sloppy in their old age.

He snapped out of his thoughts as Narci pushed her chair back and stood. "It doesn't have to be this way, Lucius. We could elope - run away to Australia or Thailand. Someplace exotic and distant where he won't find us." As she spoke, he felt something break inside him. His calm façade fell away. Her tone was so gentle she was nearly pleading, but all it evoked in him was anger. A vision of her beautiful face surrounded by death eater masks flashed through his mind, and he felt his face twist into a snarl. Run indeed. There was nowhere to go that the Dark Lord couldn't follow.

"Malfoys do not run," he spat angrily.

Like lightening her tone changed as well, though she didn't raise her voice. Her mother had always told her that women of good breeding need not do so. "Perhaps it isn't worth much to be a Malfoy these days, since the grandeur of the name is being tarnished at the whim a raving mudblood," she replied coldly.

In three long strides, Lucius crossed the room and backhanded her hard, snapping her head forcefully to the right. "Don't ever say that again. Don't even think it, do you understand me?" The smooth, dangerous voice of his father startled him even as he said the words, but his expression betrayed nothing. Merlin! Had he really just hit her?!

Narci stood before him, her head still turned away and her eyes closed tightly. "Oh, I understand you, Lucius," she whispered. Then her eyes snapped open and met his, her face still serene. "You would do well to think on just how WELL I understand you." Born and raised in the Black household, Narcissa was no fool. Lucius had told her things that would bring the Dark Lord to his door in an instant, as well as things that would land him and most of his family in Azkaban. Perhaps he had believed her father's pitiful assertion that she was weak. Her mother had taught her long ago that the best way to stay out of trouble was to encourage such drivel, and she, like her sister Andromeda, had done so without question, allowing Bella to be the best at everything. That did not, however, mean that she was prepared to be treated like a common muggle whore.

"Are you threatening me?" Lucius asked quietly. His rage had subsided, and the blossoming of blood on her cheek was bringing an uncomfortable feeling to his chest. His words lacked the sting that he'd intended.

She ignored his question and turned away. He had no right to expect her loyalty after such treatment. She threw open the window, purposely refraining from touching her face, but subconsciously desiring the cool autumn air. She let it blow through her hair, loose and wet after her evening bath. It was the first weekend of her sixth year, and frankly this was NOT how she'd foreseen spending it. She heard his footsteps behind her. A moment later his hand was resting gently on her shoulder. Was it her imagination, or was it shaking just a bit?

"Let me heal it." Narcissa smiled faintly, recognizing the soft-spoken request as the apology he intended it to be. She turned her now purpling cheek toward him, but when his wand came up, she pushed it away.

"No. This fits nicely with your carefully cultivated image, does it not? Go out the window. I will have Pomfrey heal it." She turned and watched as his face closed and his eyes turned cold again, his hand falling from her shoulder. In her mind's eye, she could see her face doing the same thing. He nodded once and summoned her broom, which jumped into his hand almost instantly.

Lucius shot out the window a bit exuberantly, but quickly rediscovered his poise. His mind was racing. She knew. Narcissa was completely aware of his "carefully cultivated" façade. What did that mean? He closed his eyes briefly as he landed, but no conclusion came to him. Except that she was willing to play along. He swung the broom up over his shoulder as he walked. She was willing to play along. They could make this work.

She stood in the window as he glided to the ground and made his way casually toward the front of the castle. "Damn you, Lucius," she muttered, thinking of the trip through the common room that she was about to make. Once he was out of sight, she opened the door and walked sedately down the staircase. Korina had been woken and was glaring at her from the fire. She met the girl's eyes and raised an eyebrow, daring her to comment on the bruise. In that instant, she felt every pair of eyes turn away from her. She raised her chin and headed for the portrait hole, satisfied that her demeanor had had the intended effect.

"Narci?"

She turned sharply in time to see Snape coming toward her. His face was expressionless and his voice neutral. "Can I walk with you? I need your help with this transfiguration assignment." Sure enough, the boy was carrying his book. She suppressed a smile and nodded, keeping her haughty expression firmly in place until the portrait swung closed behind him.

"I can't believe he hit you," the boy whispered, as soon as he was sure they were alone. He might have said more if it hadn't been for the momentary glare he received for his concern. They were nearly to the hospital wing before she replied.

"Neither can I, but I don't believe it will happen again." Her voice had an edge to it that reminded Severus of his best friend when she was angry, and he let the matter drop. He opened the door for her, but didn't follow her inside. Instead, he went looking for Lucius.

* * * * * * *

The next morning found Narcissa surrounded by her dorm mates at the breakfast table, covertly watching her betrothed as he ignored both his food and his housemates. He didn't look at her at all, preferring to sit haughtily in silence. Owl post arrived, and an elegant green envelope fell onto his plate. He scowled as he wiped the eggs from the paper and pushed his plate aside, snapping his fingers angrily at the bird to let it know that such a clumsy delivery earned it no treat. It flew away with a squawk.

"Lucius,

Come to the seventh floor corridor Friday evening at 7pm.

Look for me behind the unfamiliar door. I'll take care of everything."

Scowling, he reread the note. The handwriting was familiar, but it wasn't signed. It was on green parchment, so it must be from a Slytherin, especially considering that no one in the other houses was likely to request his presence anywhere except hell. He lifted his eyes to scan the table and caught Narcissa looking at him. The corners of her mouth were turned up just a bit, into an unnerving smirk.

He spent the next four days wondering what she was up to. He'd shown no one the note, and was still pondering their last conversation as he climbed the steps to meet her on Friday night.

* * * * * * *

When the door opened, Narcissa looked up from her book. She was lying on her stomach on the bed. Her school robes and tie were draped over a chair on the other side of the room. Her crisp white shirt was unbuttoned just a tad too far, and she knew her skirt showed a goodly portion of her upper legs. She watched silently as Lucius gazed around the richly appointed room, letting the door fall shut behind him. When his eyes fell on her, she held his gaze unsmilingly, waiting for a look of understanding. No such look crossed his face.

Finally she stood, her wand held inconspicuously in her hand to keep up the illusion of clothing. She saw his eyes glance at it anyway, and a pained expression crept over his features, but he stood stoically in front of the door, knowing he deserved whatever she was going to do to him. He was extraordinarily surprised when she put her other hand on his shoulder and brought her lips to his. It was a moment before he could bring himself to close his eyes, and when he did, Narcissa set her wand down on the nearest dresser. Her illusory school uniform abruptly changed into an elegant black nightdress made of delicate lace.

If he felt the material change under his hands as he held her, it didn't register. He was so relieved to find that she wasn't about to hex him that he let his guard down entirely and kissed her thoroughly. It wasn't until he reluctantly pulled away that he noticed the change, his eyes widening in shock.

"Narci, what - "

She placed her fingers softly over his lips and took his hand, pulling him further into the room. Her hand, which had been on his shoulder, fell to his tie and she loosened it. She'd just about finished when both his hands grasped hers, forcing her to stop. He wanted an answer, and his eyes were boring into hers. "I can't spare you what will happen, but I can at least make sure it isn't the only experience you know," she whispered, her breathy voice full of promise.

Finally comprehension dawned. This WAS her response to the conversation they'd had last week. But it was nothing like what he'd expected, and certainly far better than he deserved. She should be hexing him, not offering - THIS! Then another thought occurred to him. "But what if you - "

"Lucius," she whispered, cutting him off, "I've taken care of everything." She had accepted the same assertion from him on several occasions, never questioning. A slow smile crept across his face, which startled her somewhat as she'd never yet seen him smile. She had only a moment to marvel over it, however, before he swept her up into his arms and carried her the rest of the way to the bed, his expression once again serious.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * *

"I am NOT going home for Christmas this year! I don't care WHAT she threatens to do to me over the summer."

Muriel stopped, amused, outside the train compartment.

"Don't worry, Sirius, you can come to my place for Christmas, Mum and Dad already said so." James looked sympathetically at his friend. Apparently his mother's parting words had been about Christmas.

"Don't you think they'll have calmed down by then?" Peter asked timidly. In the corridor, Muriel rolled her eyes. For a pureblood, Peter was criminally ignorant.

And from the snort of disbelief that Sirius let out, it would seem he agreed. "I've never SEEN them calm down, not since I got sorted into Gryffindor, anyway."

Muriel risked a glance into their compartment to find that Remus, who hadn't yet spoken, was looking right at her. She smirked. "Not coming to the Christmas party this year, Black?" she asked scathingly. Really, she could hardly blame him. She was looking forward to skipping it too, but she wouldn't tell him that.

Sirius looked up sharply. The words: 'Yeah, so you'll have to take care of yourself this time,' almost fell off his lips but he bit them back. Instead, he responded with, "Sorry to disappoint you, Deesia. I know there aren't any boys there worth looking at if I don't show up." He flashed her his infamous grin, but her annoyed expression didn't falter.

"There aren't any worth looking at when you DO show up, either." As she said it, she realized how far from the truth it was. His hair had grown out over the summer, and he had it pulled back in a loose pony tail. His face wasn't quite so thin, and even though he was sitting down, she could tell he'd grown at least another three inches. He wasn't the short, scrawny thing he'd been last year. Nevertheless, she flashed the boys a wicked grin and trounced back toward her cabin.

The minute her eyes turned away, Sirius dropped his grin and stared angrily at the door. "Ungrateful wretch," he muttered. James and Peter had already broken out a chessboard and weren't paying attention, but Remus gave him an odd sort of look, which he pointedly ignored.

A moment later they heard her voice again. "Lily?"

James looked up instantly, his chess game forgotten.

"Oh, hi. Muriel, right?" Lily knew Mur on sight, having spent the previous three years dodging the hexes she sent at the Marauders, but they'd never been introduced. She held out her hand and the girl shook it.

"You can call me Mur, most everyone does now. I wanted to ask you about your trousers, they're really nice." Muriel was looking at the blue jeans Lily was wearing, which were trimmed with intricate and colorful embroidery. Muriel hadn't seen anything so cleverly done that cost less than 20 galleons, and even then, you had to go someplace better than Diagon Alley if you wanted to find them.

Lily raised an eyebrow. Muriel Deesia, a known mudblood hater had just shaken her hand and complimented her wardrobe. Was something going on here?

Mur saw the look, and heard the thoughts behind it. "I'm in Ravenclaw with a whole slew of muggle-borns," she said politely. "I've gotten used to it." She smiled apologetically, and after a moment Lily smiled back.

"They're blue jeans. I got them from a muggle store in London before we went to Diagon Alley."

Muriel looked back down at the embroidery. "Maybe I'll owl Papa and see if he'll get me a pair," she said thoughtfully. "Well, I'd better get back before Sev comes looking for me. Nice to meet you," she said quickly. She didn't want Severus to come out and insult the girl, as he was likely to do.

Lily nodded. "You too. Oh," she added, making Muriel turn back around. "Watch where you're slinging those hexes this year. Last year I almost caught three of them that were meant for Potter." Then she smiled again. "Not that I BLAME you for trying to curse the egotistical git!" Both girls laughed, then, and parted ways, each thinking that perhaps they'd made a new friend.

When Muriel got back to the compartment where Severus was waiting for her, she caught an annoyed look on his face. "What?" she asked immediately.

"Why were you talking to that mudblood, Evans? As if it isn't bad enough that you hang out with Marisa and the Ravenclaw girls, now you're making friends in Gryffindor, too?" He looked legitimately upset. She almost asked him why he'd been listening, but thought better of it.

"Sev, if you continue to sound like my mother, you will find that I stop listening to you as well," she said, a trifle coldly. Muriel did NOT like to be questioned. "Besides, I've been friends with Remus since first year, so it isn't like Lily is the first decent Gryffindor I've met."

Severus just looked at his friend, dumbfounded. Ever since she'd seen the dark mark on her mother's arm this summer, Mur had become more and more distant from the ideals she'd been brought up to believe in. He reminded himself silently that he had recoiled when he'd learned about his father's mark as well. He would just have to be tolerant. She would get past this.

He was rewarded for this conclusion with a smile, which he returned. If she had to hear his thoughts, he was glad they were those ones, instead of the ones he was suppressing about the fact that she'd referred to a Marauder as a friend.

* * * * * * *

Muriel sat between Kyle and Marisa as the 1st years were sorted. She tried to nod at the right times, while Kyle whispered to them about the Quidditch team. She didn't pay much attention until she heard the words "open position."

"Sorry, Kyle. Which positions did you say were open?" She turned to him as Marisa raised an eyebrow.

"Just one chaser position this year," he answered. "Last year's seventh years weren't very interested in the game, I guess." He went on to talk about whoever that seventh year chaser had been. But Mur had the information she wanted and tuned him out again. She would get a chance to be on the team this year!

Muriel and Marisa dragged themselves up the stairs to their room, worn out from the long train ride, and all the catching up they'd had to do at the feast. Neither of them felt like talking anymore. Muriel, in particular, was anxious to escape her dorm-mates polite inquiries about her summer.

She couldn't very well admit that her mother had been involved in half the attacks on muggle-borns that had occurred, and the attacks were a major topic of conversation. She wondered briefly how Severus had dealt with it all this time, before realizing that he didn't have any mudblood friends to feel guilty around. Everyone he associated with was both pureblooded AND a supporter of Riddle.

Muriel knew that Severus didn't want to be a Death Eater any more than she did. She just wasn't sure if he had the strength to resist. Mr. Snape had said, on more than one occasion, that he expected Sev to follow in his footsteps. Everyone seemed to think that he meant being on the board of trustees at Gringotts, or working for the Ministry on Experimental Charms. But Muriel had caught the worried look in her friend's eyes. They both knew that Mr. Snape had tagged Severus to be a Death Eater, and it was only a matter of time before the pressure started. Thinking of these things, Muriel fell fitfully to sleep, her mind already on what would happen next summer, when they had to go home again.

* * * * * * *

Muriel lowered her glass of juice slowly as her family owl, Gypsy, glided toward her, and tried to decide whether or not to run. She'd sent an owl to her father two weeks ago about the blue jeans she liked, and had yet to receive any response. She knew that meant he'd never gotten the owl. Her mother must have read the letter instead. Mother often took that long formulating her best insults.

In the end, Muriel sat and waited for the red envelope that the bird dropped onto the table in front of her. With a shaking hand, she picked it up as Kyle looked down the table. "Mur's got a howler!" he exclaimed. Naturally everyone turned to look.

She turned the letter over and broke the seal with her eyes screwed shut. Most howlers screeched or thundered through the Great Hall, but Mrs. Deesia's amplified words pounded the eardrums like great gusts of cold fury.

"It is unbeLIEVable to me that you would write your father to ask for MUGGLE clothing. Do you think NOTHING of the family name that you wish to prance around dressed like a mudblood? Obviously your mind has been poisoned by the FILTH that you have chosen for friends. Unless you wish me to send you to Durmstrang where my uncle can look after you, you will stop cavorting with dirt like this Evans girl at ONCE."

The letter burst into angry blue flames, and Muriel tried desperately to blink away her tears before anyone saw. But Lucius Malfoy had been watching her closely the whole time, and as the last echo of Mrs. Deesia faded, his voice could be heard ringing in the silent hall.

"Serves you right for talking to a mudblood like Evans!" he exclaimed, with a haughty smirk towards the Gryffindors. An instant later, James Potter was on his feet, wand in hand.

"Sod off, Malfoy!" The Ravenclaws sitting at the table between the Head Boy and Gryffindor's Finest cringed and scattered as Malfoy stood as well.

Muriel cast a panicky look at Severus, who shrugged. What did he care if Malfoy hexed Potter into next Tuesday? But Muriel cared. As if the howler alone wasn't bad enough! With a swipe of her arm she cleared the table in front of her and jumped up on it. Her dorm mates squealed as the food landed in their laps, but that was the only sound in the hall. She ran half the length of the table to reach them.

"Enough!" she said forcefully. Neither boy turned to look at her, and she saw James raise his wand. She stunned him quickly and turned to Malfoy, who looked shocked.

"Stand down, Lucius, or you're next." A shudder ran through the room. Her voice was as cold and hard as her mother's had been. Even the professors, all of whom were on their feet, waited silently.

There was a collective intake of breath as Lucius Malfoy lowered his wand. It wasn't that he didn't think he was more than a match for the upstart 4th year, only that his eye had caught the glint from his Head Boy badge, and he knew his father would be most displeased if he managed to lose it so soon in the year. He forced himself to smile. He could look very charming when he wanted to.

"Sorry, Deesia," he said mildly. "Forgot myself for a moment. I wouldn't really have hexed him." In spite of his smile and tone, his eyes were cold.

Muriel ignored him. As far as she was concerned nothing that came out of his mouth had any value at all. She was still remarkably angry about what he'd done to her bird, Rena, last year.

"Listen everyone," she said into the quiet hall. "My mother and I are two different people. I - er - I'm going to ignore what she said, and I hope all of you will too." She stole a glance at the Slytherin table. Almost every mouth was hanging open. Severus was looking fixedly at the table with a hand over his eyes. This was the end of her shaky truce with the Slytherins, she knew. Malfoy had an unmatched look of fury on his face as he gave her one last glance and turned to sit down smartly, his back to her. She jumped down from the table and ran from the hall, and out onto the grounds as fast as she could go.

She found a clump of bushes near the beautiful beech tree by the lake and hid herself in their shadow, where she couldn't be seen from the castle. It was here that Severus found her, nearly an hour later, her arms wrapped tightly around her knees. She wasn't crying anymore, only waiting. She had known he would find her eventually.

"Here," he said quietly, holding out an apple as he sat down beside her, and put an arm around her shoulders.

"Thanks," she whispered. She hadn't managed to eat much before the mail arrived. She finished the apple gratefully. "What class are you missing?"

"Dark Arts with the Hufflepuffs. Tantry will probably give me detention next time he sees me, but it's not like I'll miss anything I don't already know." Severus smiled weakly. Muriel only nodded. Severus could probably have taught that class. "Dumbledore gave you the day off classes. I heard him telling your Head of House."

At this, Muriel looked up, a wry expression on her face. "Clever of him to announce it before I actually skipped them to make it look like he's in control," she said coldly. She was so glad Severus had come. He was the only person here who knew how to get her back on track again. Or maybe it wasn't what he said that did it. Maybe it was just that he had taken the time to find her that helped.

He stood up and offered a hand. If she was off on Dumbledore again, then she was fine. She took it and stood, but didn't let him go as they walked back to the castle.

Muriel wasn't looking forward to facing the rest of her house. She charmed her bed curtains to glow on the inside, a nifty trick her Aunt Rosa had shown her on her last visit, and pulled them tightly closed. There was a good bit that she needed to read for the first History of Magic essay anyway.

Half an hour before dinner, Marisa came in looking for her. She had skipped lunch entirely and had every intention of skipping dinner as well. Marisa was not impressed by this decision.

"Oh, come on Mur, have some courage! None of the Slytherins would dare make a scene after what happened this morning!"

"Forget it, Marisa, courage is for Gryffindors. Tomorrow I'll do whatever you want, but today I'm not leaving this room for love or money. Have the house elves bring something up, if you're that worried." Muriel's voice, muffled as it was by the bed curtains, sounded determined, and Marisa harrumphed.

"Alright, I'll send them up. How do I get into the kitchens?"

"I've never been to the kitchens. Ask Severus."

At this remark, Marisa threw Mur's curtains aside forcefully. "Are you insane? You think I'm going to walk over to that table today? Malfoy is in an awful snit!"

"Well, if you don't have enough COURAGE for that, why not ask Black?" Muriel said slyly, closing her book with a snap. She grinned as her friend's face turned red. "I hear he's nicked food from the kitchens loads of times. I'm sure he'd take you down there."

"Not if he knew it was for you, he wouldn't!" Marisa exclaimed, trying to cover her own embarrassment. The last thing in the world she wanted to do was approach Sirius Black. Of course, this WOULD be a good excuse to talk to him.

Muriel wasn't so sure that Black would be averse to helping her out. He'd done it before. But she wasn't supposed to know who had helped her, so she just grinned. "Go on, ask him, I'm starving here!" She knew Marisa had been crushing on Black for ages, and was looking forward to hearing all about it when her friend got back.

But when Muriel's curtains were thrown back half an hour later she was greeted, instead, by Lily Evans. "Hey, Mur," Lily said quietly.

Muriel suppressed a groan. Lily was the last person she wanted to see today. She looked back down at her book as Marisa joined them, carrying a huge tray of all kinds of things that were not part of a proper meal. Mur couldn't help but smile as she set the tray down in the middle of her bed, and crawled up to sit cross-legged in front of her. Lily followed suit.

Muriel knew what she had to say, so she swallowed her pride and said it. "Hi Lily. I'm really sorry about that howler."

"It's alright, Mur, you more than made up for it when you embarrassed Malfoy. There's a party in our common room tonight in your honor." She laughed, and Muriel smiled.

Lily was encouraged, so she let a sly grin cross her face. "I'd invite you, but I think the boys would declare mutiny and throw me overboard."

"Potter wouldn't let them," Muriel said at once. Marisa stifled a chuckle as Lily scowled.

"Yes, well, I don't need any help from him." Mur and Marisa exchanged a knowing glance, but kept their silence as Lily continued. "Anyway, the reason I came up was to let you know that my mum would be glad to pick you up a pair of jeans, if you'll just tell me what size you wear."

Muriel smiled. That was really nice of her, but she'd already come up with a better plan. "That's alright, Lily. I've decided that I'll just do my own shopping from now on." She looked at her friends conspiratorially, and they leaned toward her. "Next Hogsmeade weekend, I'll just go to London and get the jeans myself." She whispered, grinning.

"The Knight Bus?" Marisa asked, grimacing. She had ridden it once with her mother. They'd both gotten sick and sworn never to set foot near it again.

"Certainly not!" Mur exclaimed distastefully. 'As if a Deesia would ever be caught dead on that thing!' she thought. "I'll just apparate from the alley behind the Hogs Head. No one will ever know I'm gone."

"Aren't you afraid you'll splinch yourself?" Lily asked after an uncomfortable silence. She'd been reading up on apparation, and was not at all looking forward to taking her test at the end of next year.

Muriel laughed. "I've been doing it for years. Don't tell, all right? If anyone asks, I'll say your mother got them for me." Lily looked rather uncomfortable at this. Why not just let her mother get them, then? But then she noticed the look of defiance in Muriel's eyes. It was very close to the look that her friend Sirius got when he was about to cause mayhem for no reason. And she knew better than to argue with that look.

"I won't tell," Lily said quietly.