Ad Mortem Festinamus

It was a hard one to call who was most dumbfounded that evening. Neither the involved nor the bystanders could have given plausible reason, least Narcissa. It was a chilling cold evening in January, the Slytherin Common Room was as crowded and rambunctious as ever, everything was as usual. In any case though, Narcissa Black came in with a large pile of books - which was such a common sight that no one took notice except Lucius Malfoy, who always registered any of her moves.

She gazed around, found whom she was looking for and headed for the skinny First Year who was sitting on his own in a corner, brooding over his Transfiguration homework. She let the books slide onto the table before him, put on her best smile and announced, "There you go, Severus Snape."

He gave a start, peeked at the books, at her, and jumped up to make a little bow. "Miss Black!"

"I've written to my parents and they've sent me some things I've asked them for. Here's the Wildsmith, which I would like to get back when you've finished. You can keep the rest if you like."

The boy's gaze returned to the eight fat tomes on the table before him, he opened his mouth and shut it again, but no sound would come. Helplessly, he looked back at her - to the books - to her - and with a little shrug, she murmured, "Well, don't you want to have a look at them, at least?"

"Sure!" He took one book after the other, his face eloquent with amazement and enthusiasm. They were valuable and rare, Narcissa had only chosen specimen that weren't available in the Hogwarts Library. She felt almost sorry now that she had wanted to do the boy a favour, that she had believed she could help him. She had thought that he could simply sell any of these books and gain enough money to get himself some decent robes, and that he would be interested in the contents themselves, but seeing his face now, she regretted her unusual helpfulness. This wasn't like her, was it?

After a while, he whispered, "Thank you! Thank you so much, Miss Black! I'll give them back to you as soon as I can! Actually, I'm as good as through with -"

"Didn't you listen? You can have them. They're yours." She shrugged again. "Unless you don't want to have them, of course."

It turned out that he did want them. He was just shy and humble and inhibited. Narcissa felt strangely endeared to this weird child, who seemed to unite some of life's greatest disadvantages, and who could only claim for himself to be rather bright and advanced in his reading. Perhaps he reminded her of herself, back then in her own first year in school. How she had hated it. How the prospect of seven whole years here had sickened her. Certainly, she still hated it, she still could hardly wait to see the day of her graduation, but she had accommodated well enough. The place was horrid, the classes were boring, and the other students unbearable - well, one had to deal with the unpleasant aspects of life. Maybe it was just this. Maybe she just believed little Severus Snape to be a kindred spirit despite all the obviously different circumstances.

They sat down together, Severus Snape flicked through the books as if they were some treasure - careful, cautious, reverently. She revised her notion that it had been a bad idea. These books could be in no better hands. In a low voice, she asked him after his classes, straining to be as friendly as she could, which was a new experience for her. Normally, she tried to be as distanced as possible, with no wish to befriend anyone.

He was clever. After a while, he had lost enough of his inhibitions to talk more freely, eagerly speaking about his classes, the books he had read; both of them enjoyed their conversation since they had no one else to talk to about such things. They didn't notice one bit how every eye in the room began to stare at them, by and by.

"Now I know why she doesn't want to go out with me," Elias Yaxley gnarled ungraciously. "She's just a sodding child molester!"

"Oh, for heaven's sake, get off it!"

"Don't talk so big, Lucius. If I remember correctly, she's turned you down as well!"

"I told you they'd make one lovely couple." Imogen looked thoroughly satisfied with herself, snuggling up to her boyfriend. "How foolish can a girl be, turning you down?"

He rolled his eyes. "Well, it's been some years."

"Funny, back then you must have been in her target group, age-wise. Perhaps you were just too sophisticated for her taste."

"Yaxley," Lucius snarled, putting as much menace in his voice as he could. "Perhaps you remember the curse marks I gave you then? Trust me, I've become even quicker, and I've learnt some nastier curses since then, too!"

"Calm down, pal! Why are you getting worked up about this? We're just having some fun."

"She's an arrogant bitch, she deserves it," Imogen said in a tone as if the matter was settled.

"Perhaps she is arrogant, but she's also smarter than you lot put together. And the same's true for the kid."

"Since when do you meddle with First Years?"

Lucius adapted an indifferent expression and said lightly, "Oh, I've talked to him. He's all right."

Yaxley lifted a brow. "You are aware that he's a mudblood, right?"

Nope, Lucius had not been aware of this, but he wouldn't let it show that Yaxley had taken him by surprise. Anyhow, that little piece of information explained a lot. "Yeah. So what."

"So what?! You taken a Bludger to the head, buddy?"

"He's not about to marry your sister, Yaxley. Why don't you calm down?"

"He's a disgrace for our entire House! What's this abomination doing in Slytherin?"

That was a good question, if he indeed was a mudblood, but Lucius was too much out of humour to side with Yaxley right now. "The Sorting Hat must have known what it was doing. Who are you to judge?"

"I beg your pardon?" His room mate looked at Lucius as if this one was showing the first symptoms of Dragon Pox. "Seriously, Lucius, you might want to see Madam Pomfrey. You're not feeling well."

"I feel just fine, I assure you. It's just that you are so getting on my nerves! You are here by default, man, because you are too stupid for Ravenclaw, wouldn't fit in Hufflepuff either because you'd sell your own grandparents if the prize was good enough, and you've got nothing to do in Gryffindor because you haven't got a backbone." He glared over, subtly touching his wand through the fabric of his robes. Yaxley got the message, shut his mouth, and Lucius added less hostile, "Just leave the kid alone."

Imogen was visibly proud with her sweetheart and padded his shoulder. "Right. Let's all be a little more social, eh? My mother always says that more charity is what our community needs."

"Giving your old clothes to the Witches of Mercy isn't exactly charity," Chloe butted in. "Not enough fabric to warm the poor."

The two girls exchanged a couple of venomous scowls; Imogen prevailed in the end by simply taking Lucius' hand and putting it on her thigh. For Merlin's sake, he had had enough. He reclaimed his own limbs, pushed her up and said coolly, "Fancy a walk, dear?"

"Sure!" She gave a shrill giggle. "Nothing as exciting as taking - a walk - with you, after hours!"

He returned to the dungeons as a free man - Imogen returned as a weeping bundle. He had endured her insipidity long enough, and for the first time in some years, he was determined to remain single for now. Sex wasn't everything, was it?

That night in their dorm, Damocles remarked confidentially, "You don't stand a chance. You know that?"

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"I can well understand why you would dump Vaisey. A dozen of sound reasons to get rid of her. Yet I can't help the feeling that you've done it for the one wrong reason."

"And that would be?" Lucius glared at him, ready to curse him on the spot.

"Relax, Lucius. I mean well."

"Oh, do you?"

"Yes, I do. I'm not blind, you know? Don't make a fool of yourself, you can have every chick you want. Don't waste your pride and time on this one."