Vector's Challenge

Scene 12 - Arithmancy class with the Slytherins

Later on that same day, Emmy looked out at her fifth-year Slytherin-Gryffindor Arithmancy class. She had already met privately with Bulstrode before class to explain to the girl that she could keep up her previous strategy, but Bulstrode had reassured her that everything would be all right. "I'll just tell them that I found some better sources to get information from, Professor Vector," Bulstrode had said. Emmy was still worried, but it seemed as though Voldemort's lackeys did not pay attention to mere trends. That was a Muggle behavior far beneath them. And at any rate, when Riddle was a young man, Bletchley Park was a deep secret. No one ever paid attention to mathematicians back then.

"All right, class. Today we're going to begin talking about Muggle attempts to mathematically predict behavior. Now, what is a common error Muggle scientists consistently make in modeling behavior, Mr. Malfoy?"

Draco replied, "They consistently forget to add free will into the analysis."

"Correct, Mr. Malfoy," Professor Vector replied. "And why is this an error?"

Draco rattled off the answer, "Because human behavior can be described by three variables; genetics, environment, and free will."

"Correct, five points." she replied with a nod. She thought, Malfoy, if you would only think about what I'm trying to teach you, instead of just parroting answers out! "And how do the Muggle scientists model human behavior?"

Draco smirked. "They only consider two variables, the interaction of genetics and environment."

Professor Vector nodded. "Correct, Mr. Malfoy. Ten points to Slytherin. Now, class, can free will be considered as a function of genetics and environment?"

Draco got a puzzled look on his face. "Yes," he replied.

Bulstrode put up her hand. When Vector acknowledged her, she said, "No, not if it is to be properly considered as free will."

Professor Vector nodded. "Correct, Miss Bulstrode. Ten points to Slytherin."

She then proceeded to start assigning problems. The trick was that a mere two-variable analysis would give them answers that were complete rubbish, or no answers at all, but a three-variable analysis would give them meaningful results. She gave a thin smile at the thought of Draco Malfoy making mistakes due to his own prejudices. However, by the time she was finished with class, she had the beginnings of a pounding headache.

Professor Vector looked at her watch. She had a hour or two until she had to leave for the University. True, it was lunchtime, but she had no appetite. Lack of sleep plus high levels of stress equaled a really rotten headache. And if she went to her rooms, she'd probably be pestered by students. She decided that she would go to the chapel instead, and meditate.

The Catholic chapel in Hogwarts could not be found very easily. It could only be discovered by those who were Catholic or who sought the place with good intent. This was as the result of a Confundus-type charm placed on the chapel after religious controversy between the pagans and atheists who did not want a chapel at Hogwarts at all, and the Catholics who insisted that the chapel and its occupants be present and free from harm. Binns never taught about the religious wars between Pagan and Christian wizards, or Catholic and Protestant ones, or Believer versus Atheist, et cetera, because the history showed how utterly shameful the prejudices of previous generations were. The Americans took a similar tack with teaching the history of their immigration laws, at least according to her brother-in-law the INS agent.

The Hufflepuff Friar had been the victim of an attack from a pagan in the thirteenth century, and refused to leave his post as Catholic chaplain until he was replaced. Some of the nuns who were ghosts were victims of a joint Protestant and atheist attack wishing to rid the school of their "superstitious" presence. The nuns had also refused to leave until they had either an apology or successors.

Emmy knew that she could pray in her classroom or in her quarters just as easily as she could pray in the chapel, but sometimes she needed that hushed quiet, the sight of all the paintings, stained glass and statues, and the smell of flat incense to put her back into contact with the Holy. Or at least a calmer state of mind. And no one else would be there. It would be quiet.

Snape noticed that Vector wasn't in the Great Hall for lunch. Bloody fantastic. Now I've managed to scare That Woman off. He repeated to himself, I am not disappointed, Not at all, It merely shows what she truly thinks of me.

"I wonder where Professor Vector is," McGonagall said.

"Perhaps she's in the chapel, Minerva," Dumbledore replied.

"We have a chapel here?" Snape asked. The other teachers turned to look at him. "Of course, I knew about our pagan temple, but I had no idea that we had a chapel."

"We have two chapels in addition to the temple, Severus," Dumbledore replied. "A Catholic and a Protestant one."

"I see. How is it that I never knew of them?" Snape asked.

"They can only be found by those who truly believe or who seek with good intent. Much like the pagan temple."

"Yes, there are some very interesting Concealment Charms on all three holy places," Flitwick said.

"I see," Snape said. Perhaps I will go exploring after lunch, he thought, as Flitwick babbled on. He had a free period, after all. And it would be a good idea to know every single room in the castle. He set himself to quickly finishing his meal.

"Designo me Emmy Vector," he said when he was finally alone in the corridors. Yes, wand, point me to her.

He heard her first, rather than seeing her. She was chanting very rapidly, "Ave Maria, gratia plena, Dominus tecum. Benedicta tu in mulieribus, et benedictus fructus ventris tui, Iesus. Sancta Maria, Mater Dei, ora pro nobis peccatoribus nunc, et in hora mortis nostrae. Amen." Over and over again, he heard the chant. Then she changed the words. "Gloria Patri, et Filio, et Spiritui Sancto. Sicut erat in principio, et nunc, et in saecula saeculorum. Amen. Domine Iesu, dimitte nobis debita nostra, salva nos ab igne inferiori, perduc id caelum omnes animas, praesertim eas, quae misericordiae tuae maxime indigent. Amen."* Â

What exactly was That Woman doing? What spell was it? He could not identify it. Her voice was coming from behind a door that he had never seen before in this particular corridor. He opened it. Emmy Vector had her back to him and was kneeling on the floor in front of the altar. Snape heard her again. "Salve Regina, mater misericordiae, vita dulcedo et spes nostra salve. Ad te clamamus,exsules filii Hevae. Ad te suspiramus, gementes et flentes in hac lacrimarum valle. Eia ergo, advocata nostra, illos tuos misericordes oculos ad nos converte. Et Iesum, benedictum fructum ventris tui, nobis, post hoc exsilium, ostende. O clemens, O pia, O dulcis Virgo Maria. Amen. Ora pro nobis, sancta Dei Genitrix. Ut digni efficiamur promissionibus Christi. In nomine Patri et Filii et Spiritui Sancti. Amen."** Something rattled in her hands. Â

"Emmy, what are you doing?" Snape asked. She gasped and dropped whatever it was that was rattling, then attempted to get up and turn around at the same time. She fell over instead. He ran into the chapel. "What are you doing here, Snape? How did you find me?" She rubbed at her knees. Spending the better part of an hour kneeling on a cold stone floor was not good for them.

Snape held up his wand. "Good old Designo me. And I was," he paused, "concerned when you missed lunch today." He extended a hand toward her. She took it and he pulled her to a standing position. He let his hand linger on hers for a moment, and then dropped it.

Emmy put her hands to her forehead. "I had a horrible headache, and I find that I can't eat when I get them. What helps is getting peace and quiet."

"Quiet? I could hear you all the way down the corridor."

"Ah, but that was my own noise, after all," she replied.

"And what were you saying? I caught a few of the words."

"Ah. Medieval Catholic meditation practice."

"Meditation? At that volume?"

Emmy gave an exasperated sigh, and muttered very softly, "Pagans." She continued, louder, "I was saying the rosary, Severus."

"Ah. That explains it. I have seen it said, but never heard the words."

Emmy's head snapped up. "You've seen the rosary said? When?"

"I lived in Italy for some time," Snape replied.

"And I presume you weren't going into the churches much."

"More than you would think. But I still never heard anything like you were doing just now."

"My Latin accent isn't that good, and I know it, Severus."

"No, not that. You sounded," he struggled for the word, "desperate, somehow."

Emmy grimaced. "I came here after I'd finished with my fifth-year Slytherin-Gryffindor class. Worrying about Millie Bulstrode and dealing with Draco Malfoy is enough to give anyone a headache."

"Humph. Dealing with Granger is enough to give anyone a headache."

Emmy snorted. "Really, Severus."

"Oh, come on, woman. Don't you find her annoying?"

"You forget, my brother is Michael Vector. I have a different definition for annoying than most people do."

"Yes, he always was a perfect Gryffindork, in spite of his House, wasn't he?"

"Was? Is is more like it."

Snape chuckled. "I'll have to take your word for it. I haven't seen him in some years now."

"Oh, I see him from time to time, over the holidays generally. But he did say that he was going to stop in and see me here before Christmas this year."

Snape drew in his breath. "Do you know exactly when?" he asked, trying to keep his tone light and casual. If Michael Vector sees me and realizes that I'm interested in his sister, he won't let me out of his slip again. He'll find some way to put me into Azkaban this time.

Emmy frowned. "I can't exactly remember. I hope that it's not Halloween."

"So do I," Snape agreed. They both fell silent.

Emmy looked down first. She bent over and picked up her rosary. She straightened up. "Thank you very much for being concerned about me, Severus."

"You're welcome," he replied. "Do you want a potion for your headache?"

Emmy shook her head. "Thank you, Severus, but no. I'm feeling better now, and I find that most headache potions make my head as foggy as the headache itself does. But it's kind of you to offer."

"I see. Perhaps I can find something that works better for you. Would you be willing to try it?"

"Yes," Emmy replied, looking back up at him. "After all, I can't always take the time to go run to the chapel and say fifteen decades of the rosary while waiting for my head to feel better."

"Yes, I am amazed to find Catholics here at Hogwarts. I thought that you burned witches and wizards," he drawled.

Emmy retorted, "We gave that up when the Protestants started executing witches, wizards and Catholics." She snorted at the look on Snape's face. "I'm just joking, Severus. There were always those who managed to reconcile their faith with their abilities, even before the Reformation."

"Mental gymnastics," Snape muttered.

"No worse than any other religion," Emmy replied. "And it keeps the brain active. Doubt can be just a means of showing that one has faith, after all."

Snape looked at her. "Whatever do you mean by that?"

"If you're utterly sure that you have the right answers, and you never, ever entertain the thought that you might be wrong, that's blindness."

"But then how does one ever know the right answer?"

Emmy smiled. "That's the faith. To be uncertain but decide to believe anyway, and wager your soul on it." She looked at her watch, and coughed to clear her throat. Her hand came up to her neck and rubbed it. "Severus, I have to run now. I'll stop by later in the week to see about that headache potion." She turned and walked toward the door.

"Do you have a sore throat?" he asked her.

She stopped at the door, turned, and nodded. "Yes, and more talking to do this afternoon."

He came and met her at the open door, and then started to search for something. "Ah, here. Try this." He took a little vial with a medicine dropper in it out of his robes. "Two drops and you should be set to announce an entire Quidditch match. Here, stick out your tongue." Emmy gave him a surprised look. "I know the proper dosage, woman, and it's not exactly as if you can see to administer it."

"True. Very well." Emmy stuck out her tongue and closed her eyes.

Snape stepped close to her. She felt Snape's hand cup her cheek and jaw, and cold splashes on her tongue. "One, two, done." Emmy pulled her tongue back into her open mouth. Snape slowly removed his hand from her face. She opened her eyes, and took a deep breath. "You need to swallow," he rasped. She nodded, and followed his instructions. She backed out of the chapel into the corridor. He followed her. She kept on staring at him staring at her.

"I apologize for the incident yesterday in the dungeons," he finally said. "I realize that you probably find me distasteful. I assure you that it will not happen again."

"Distasteful?" Emmy said. "Distasteful?" He nodded.

She slowly smiled. "Severus, I'll show you just how distasteful I find you," she said, and put her arms around his neck. She attempted to drag his head down. He bent his head towards her, and fastened onto her mouth. So much for good intentions. She asked for it. She actually asked for it! She pulled herself up towards him, kissing him harder and harder. He pulled her closer to him, as tightly as he could. She slid her tongue around his lips and felt him moan. Their tongues were touching, they were both shaking, and all of a sudden, a bucket of ice-cold water hit them, and they heard Peeves cackling. "Naughty Professors playing tonsil hockey!"

Snape let go of Vector, and she screamed out, "God damn you to the ninth circle of hell, Peeves! I'm friggin' well going to set the exorcists on you, you worthless nine-fingered shite hawk!"

Peeves retorted, "Oooh, do the greasy git's tonsils taste good then? Go get a room!"

Snape shouted, "Peeves! Enough." He stepped between Emmy and Peeves, and rolled up his left sleeve. "Peeves, who taught the Bloody Baron everything he knows?" he said in a soft, silky voice.

Emmy asked, "Snape, you're not going to do anything that would..." she hesitated, trying to work it out. "...upset Dumbledore, would you?

Snape shook his head briefly, but did not turn around. He snarled softly. "Not a single word to anyone, you pestiferous spirit, or I'll deal with you first, and then turn what's left of you over to Professor Vector's exorcists. Do you understand me?"

Peeves saw the Dark Mark on Snape's arm. The poltergeist's teeth chattered. " I won't tell anybody!" he said, in a frightened voice, and vanished. Snape quickly rolled his sleeve back down and turned around.

Emmy started to applaud him. "Bravo, Severus, bravo!"

Snape smirked. "Well, I guess I can't complain that you never let me have any fun," he said.

Emmy took a look at him. He was happy, and his wet robes were absolutely clinging to his body. She took in one brief moment to enjoy the sight. Then she thought about what he must be seeing.

"Oh, we're both soaking wet, thanks to that blasted poltergeist," Emmy said. She aimed her wand at his wet clothes. "Dehydratio," she said. She repeated it for herself. She looked at her watch. "I'm running late. Time to go." She went down the corridor in one direction. Snape stood and watched her go until she was out of sight, and then went in the other direction, back to his dungeons.