The Silver Cauldron

The rain beat dismally down upon the castle. The dungeon felt oppressive and dreary. Snape had been in a bad mood all day. Criticising, all the time. The way I was dressed, the way I sliced up Elderberry roots, because I was slow. He was trying to provoke me into an argument, and I had to bite my tongue several times not to give it to him. The very last lesson was Neville's class. Snape looked as if he was going to curse anyone who made a mistake. Neville was looking panicky again, although I knew he'd be all right - we'd gone over this potion often enough.

When they had finished Snape began to mark the work. "Excellent Malfoy...it needs to be a bit thicker Miss Parkinson...Very poor Potter...What is that?" He stood over Neville's cauldron looking disgusted. I moved over to them.

"It looks fine to me." Snape looked at me as if I was a house elf who had just answered back.

"It's useless" he said, enunciating each syllable as though I was stupid.

"There's nothing wrong with it" I said stubbornly.

"Very well then Miss Almanay, if you know so much about it you test it."

Somewhat taken aback I stared at the potion in its glass flask. I had every faith in Neville but...

"You're scared" Snape hissed. "You don't know what you're talking about do you? You're just an argumentative little..." I grabbed the flask and drank it's contents. The class gasped and I felt a horrible burning sensation erupt in my throat. I felt as if every ounce of strength was being sucked from my body. My legs could no longer support my weight; I stumbled, fell...Strong arms caught me and I found myself gazing into Snape's face. There was a look of silent ascendancy in his eyes. He carried me over to his chair and roughly laid me in it.

"Congratulations Longbottom" he said sarcastically. "You've finally managed to get something right. Miss Almanay will be too weak to do anything for at least half an hour because of you." Neville's potion had certainly worked. I tried to sit myself up in the chair, but my arms shook and I found I could barely move myself. It was one of the strangest situations I'd ever been in.

The bell rang, ending the lesson. Neville lingered behind, looking astonished and frightened at the same time. "I'm so sorry Miss" he mumbled. I smiled at him. "There's no need to be. You should be proud of yourself. This is one of the most effective potions I have ever tested." Snape turned to Neville.

"Go. I will deal with her."

"But Sir..."

"GET OUT!" Neville ran for it. Eyes flashing, Snape turned to me. He looked furious.

"When did you teach Longbottom to make weakening potions?"

"I didn't."

"Of course you did. He would never have learnt that by himself."

"It must have been your explanation then."

"Don't lie to me!" he hissed and looked almost as if he was going to hit me. I flinched, but he changed his mind and simply stood there staring at me. I pulled myself into a more comfortable position. The potion was beginning to wear off.

"I find you very interesting Miss Almanay" he said.

"What do you mean?" I asked, trying to hold his gaze.

"I mean there's more to you than meets the eye." I shifted uneasily in my seat. He turned and started looking through a pile of essays I'd marked. I forced myself to my feet, gingerly limped over to the benches and tried to clear away the remains of the potions.

"Miss Almanay, did you even bother to read these before you marked them?"

"Yes, of course I did." I'd been up for most of the night marking.

"Really?" His tone was unbearably mocking. "I can hardly tell."

"Professor, what exactly is wrong with them?" I asked indignantly.

"Wrong? What's right with them you mean." He brandished Chiron White's paper in front of me. "You gave her full marks for the introduction."

"It was very good."

"It was the worst rubbish I've ever read" he snarled. "Except perhaps..." his eyes glinted maliciously "...your own notes on the research into Leviticus drafts."

The glass phial fell from my shaking hand and splintered into a million tiny fragments. How could he? My eyes stung. Noticing this he advanced on me, smirking. Enjoying my pain.

"I sometimes have to wonder, Philoma, how you ever got the job here at all." That hurt. He'd never used my first name before.

"Why are you doing this? Why do you despise me so much?" It was meant to sound defiant, but my voice trembled.

"Because you need to be taught. I would hate to allow you to exist under the impression that what you are doing is good work." He was too close to me now, thin lips curling as I furiously fought to keep the tears welling up under my lashed from falling. "I don't despise you. Quite the opposite. You just need to remember your place once in a while."

"My place?"

"Under me." He put his hands roughly on my shoulders. The feeling of being trapped flooded back.

"Don't ever think you're anything special my darling, because you're not. You haven't even got pure blood..."

This last insult was too much. Tears began to flow unstemmed down my cheeks. I tried to turn away so he wouldn't see this but he pinned me where I was, a look of sadistic satisfaction on his face.

"Let me go!" I struggled in his grasp. My head swam; the sheer physical effort of fighting the potion was excruciatingly painful.

"I haven't finished with you yet my dear. Calm down." His fingers gripped me tighter, bruising my skin.

"Please. Let me go." He pushed me forcefully onto my knees. Cradling my head in his hands, he stroked my hair possessively. "I never leave a conversation unfinished" he purred over my smothered sobs.

"GET OFF OF ME!" I screamed. It echoed around the empty dungeon, pathetic, isolated. He knelt down beside me and his thin fingers slid lazily along my throat. I closed my eyes as his lips touched my skin, scorching, branding my flesh. It was as if I was watching this from outside my body, powerless. I was drowning.

At last, he set me free. He stood and watched me while I dragged myself to my feet. Was that sorrow in his expression? How could such a cold man feel remorse? Burning with shame I rearranged my soiled robes. I tried to speak but no words would come out. As I reached the door, he said softly; "I'm so sorry my darling. That was the way it had to be. You gave me no choice." I let the latch fall shut behind me and left him standing there alone.