The Silver Cauldron

Chapter 12 - Double Exposure

I was in love. I hated it. It was tearing me apart. I wanted to hate him; his bad temper, insensitivity and total coldness towards my feelings should have warned me away. He could be so cruel he made me cry, but then he would treat me with such an intense passion I would bend towards him again. I knew this was dangerous; I was like a puppet, obedient to him; on the verge of abandoning my own ambitions and the very reason I'd come to Hogwarts. 'Next time it will be different' I would think. Because there always is a next time, isn't there?

One afternoon I was attempting to brew a particularly complicated potion when I felt his arms snake around me. I jumped; he could move as silently as a cat when he wanted to. It was very unnerving.

"Not now" I said, struggling out of his grasp. "I have work to do."

"I wasn't going to give you a choice in the matter my dear." His cold lips played across the back of my neck.

"No, really, I need to concentrate."

"But you don't want to concentrate do you Miss Almanay? Turn around and look at me."

"But..."

"Look at me". I felt my body weaken, my resolve softened and I allowed myself to be drawn into his heavy embrace. He smirked, pleased that his will had conquered mine, before sliding his hands beneath my robes and kissing me. I melted against him; everything else wiped from mind. Including...

The sharp thud of metal hitting stone broke us apart. How could I have been so stupid as to forget? Thursday lunchtimes. Neville looked as if he was going to faint. Snape looked shocked and angry. I felt immensely guilty. Snape was the first to break the awkward silence.

"What on earth do you think you're doing in here Longbottom? Explain yourself immediately."

"I...I..." Neville glanced hopelessly in my direction.

"I asked him to come" I interjected. Snape glared at me.

"You Miss Almanay?"

"I wanted to go through the potion we did yesterday with him." Snape's hands clenched violently together.

"Longbottom. Get out".

"Professor...Neville wait".

"You will be quiet Miss Almanay. Longbottom, go. NOW!" Neville grabbed his cauldron and almost fell over his own feet in his hurry to escape.

"Please don't tell anyone Neville," I said hopelessly, knowing that Neville was one of the most talkative boys in the school. The door slammed shut. Snape turned to me.

"So. I find out that my assistant has been mocking me behind my back."

"I wasn't mocking you..."

"She doesn't consider my teaching to be worth anything at all, so she decides to take over."

"I only meant..."

" Do you think I am a complete fool Miss Almanay?"

"No Sir."

"You clearly think that I am incompetent though don't you? DON'T YOU?" He slammed me hard against the wall. I tried hard not to scream.

"Sir, will you please let go of me." He ignored me and gripped my chin, forcing me to look at him.

"How dare you infringe my position?" he whispered dangerously. "You are not fully qualified yet Miss Almanay, and let you remember it. Of all the people I trust - and I can assure you that there are very few - I am disgusted to find it was you who let me down." I said nothing and looked at the floor. He stood looking at me for a few seconds and them stalked out of the room.

I felt unexplainably guilty. Not because I had helped Neville - I knew I was in the right there, I had to be. It was because he said he'd trusted me...and I was probably the least trustworthy of all the people he knew. I should have asked him about Neville instead of keeping the extra tuition a secret.

I massaged my shoulder blades where he'd pushed me. I wished he wouldn't be so violent. Even when he kissed me I ended up with small bruises all over my arms and neck from his fingers. That was it. Maybe it was a good thing this had happened. It gave me an excuse to escape, to be free of him.

I miserably returned to the potion I had been making. The fire beneath the cauldron had extinguished itself, and the now useless liquid was calm. It had turned a very strange colour - a kind of black - purple. It was so dark its surface acted like a mirror and I could see my face reflected in it.

It happened in a split second. Rippled began to spread through the substance, although I could have sworn I hadn't jogged the cauldron. The shadow face dissolved. When the liquid had become smooth again I looked back into it. And screamed.

The face that looked back at me was not my face. It was paler, thinner, terrifying. In a panic I overturned the cauldron; dark liquid gushed everywhere. Shaking all over I stood it the right way up again. It behaved perfectly normally. I felt rather stupid. All my papers were covered in purple stains. I touched the back of my head tentatively. I must have banged it when he hit me; yes that would be it. Or maybe I was just going insane. How ironic, I thought, that a moment's foolish fantasy could create several hours of clearing up.