A Choice Between Paths

Chapter 1: A Return to Hogwarts

The Hogwarts Express swayed gently as it progressed across the English countryside. The prefects' car was packed full of people chatting loudly about their summer holidays. As they waited for the Head Boy and Girl to call the meeting to order, Marivetta Hunter just stood back and watched it all.

She was tall enough to see over the heads of most of the younger students, her steel gray eyes darting around taking in every inch of the car. Most of the other students walked around her with hardly any notice to her existence, because there wasn't really anything very remarkable about Marivetta. She had long beautiful hair, but she kept it pinned back in a tight bun on the back of her head. Her clothes were always neatly pressed and the only thing untidy about her was the one bit of hair that always insisted upon escaping from her bun, forcing her to tuck it behind her ear to keep it from falling in her eyes.

"All right, Hunter?" Pansy Parkinson called as she entered the compartment. Draco Malfoy entered just behind her.

"Hello, Parkinson." She nodded slightly. "And Draco."

"Have a good summer, Marivetta?" Draco asked, parting from Pansy to join her in the corner. He had a pointed face, and un-naturally blond hair, but even Marivetta had to admit he was handsome.

"Good enough. I didn't see Father much," she answered, lowering her voice. "But I dare say you didn't see yours much either."

"They were very busy this summer," Draco said. "He was glad Dumbledore made me a Prefect. I thought I would be overlooked due to hard feelings the Headmaster has for my father."

"I suppose Headmaster Dumbledore knew that would look very bad on his part," she said. "And I'd have resigned if he'd made one of your mindless cronies a prefect."

Draco let a grin slip. "You're graduating soon, are you going to join?"

Marivetta was spared answering by the Head Boy, Arnold MacIntosh, calling for silence.

The Head Girl, Trudie Drumhiller, began her welcoming spiel and Marivetta felt a lurch of resentment, and jealousy. She had been in the running for Head Girl herself, but in the end Trudie had won the spot.

As if it wasn't bad enough that every guy Marivetta had ever liked had ended up fawning all over Trudie, with her yards of over-styled blond hair and insipid blue eyes, now Marivetta had to watch the spoiled brat run around with a Head Girl badge on.

Randolf Block, the other seventh year Slytherin prefect, exchanged a disgusted look with Marivetta. She knew what he was thinking: We weren't chosen because we are Slytherins. And she didn't doubt the accuracy of that thought.

Marivetta hardly listened to what was being said. It wasn't until the Head Boy forced the list of delegated prefect tasks into her hands that she snapped back into reality.

The other Slytherin prefects were gathering around her and Randolf and the noise level in the compartment rose again.

"Pansy and Draco are supposed to lead the first years to the common room after the feast. Theodore and Alexandra, you're handing out the schedules at breakfast tomorrow."

She was shouting to be heard over the din. Randolf was gazing over her shoulder.

"They've got you and I patrolling the hallways every night this week," he groaned, sending a contemptuous glare towards the Head Boy and Girl. "God forbid they rotate between houses, you only need two prefects on duty at a time."

Marivetta crumpled up the parchment angrily. "New password is 'Dragon's Breath'. Now I'm going to sit in my usual compartment." She turned and left without another word.

Toria Mulciber looked up from her Teen Witch Weekly as Marivetta slipped into the compartment. Randolf followed her in, but Draco and Pansy merely waved as they passed.

"You already missed the snack cart," Toria said. "But I bought our usual assortment."

"Excellent," Marivetta said, snatching up a Cauldron Cake and settling into a seat. "How was your summer?"

"Boring as hell," Toria answered. "Dad was running all over the place, so most of the time it was just me and the House Elf."

"I would have invited you over, but Dad and Mum didn't want anyone else in the house," Marivetta said dismally.

"Have either of you put any thought into what you want to do once this year is over?" Randolf asked, running one of his large hands over his short hair.

"Some," Toria answered. "I was thinking about going abroad, visiting Salem where all the witch trials were. Thought it would be enlightening."

"I want to be a scholar," Randolf said. "Practically live in a library and get paid to learn."

"I'd love to be a teacher. Too bad the only worthy school has a full teaching staff at the moment," Marivetta said, shrugging.

"You could always go teach at Durmstrang," Toria suggested.

Marivetta was tempted to tell her she'd rather die, but didn't want to press the point. Instead she sat back and watched her two best friends for a few moments.

You couldn't find a stranger trio in all of Hogwarts.

Toria was, and there is no other word for it, odd. She had shoulder length, midnight black hair that had several streaks of green flowing through it. She wore far more eyeliner than necessary. And her fingernails were adorned with black nail polish that she had a habit of chipping off when she got bored.

Randolf, on the other hand, was a flirt. Probably the biggest flirt in all of Slytherin, except possibly for Draco. He was fit, with broad shoulders and thick arms. He was the last person you would imagine wanting to become a scholar. The idea of him sitting around a library reading all day would baffle anyone who didn't know him. Marivetta, however, knew how brilliant he really was. She hadn't seen him study for a test once in the 6 years they'd been at Hogwarts so far, yet he always aced every single test.

Marivetta glanced at her reflection in the window. Compared to them, it wasn't a wonder that she seemed so plain. She frowned, tucking the stubborn tuft of hair behind her ear and turning away from the window.

"Where do you reckon Draco went?" Randolf asked.

Marivetta laughed. "You have to ask? I'd be willing to put money down he went to pay dear Potter a visit."

The ride passed in a blur of Chocolate Frogs and Exploding Snap. Draco and his followers, Crabbe and Goyle, didn't turn up until about thirty minutes before they pulled into Hogsmeade.

Toria was busy braiding Marivetta's hair, but she looked up and smiled at him.

"Hello, Draco."

Marivetta rolled her eyes behind Advanced Potions for the Adventurous Soul. He sat across from them propping his feet up next to Marivetta's knee.

Randolf dropped his Daily Prophet, turning his attention to Draco. "Spill already, you look like a cat that just swallowed a canary."

"I just overheard our beloved Head Girl going on about how much she was looking forward to working with Professor Snape this year," he said, twirling his wand absently. He then took on an annoying falsetto voice. "It is going to be a great honor to work with such an accomplished Potions Master."

Marivetta's heart plummeted into her stomach and she dropped her book on her lap.

Randolf called Trudie a very foul name. "How can Professor Snape stand her for a whole year?"

Marivetta stared down at the book and found she no longer cared about the magical properties of thestral tail hair.

Every year Professor Snape selected a seventh year to be his student assistant. They graded papers and ran errands, but they also helped brew potions for purposes beyond the classroom.

Marivetta had wanted the position ever since her second year, when he had told her she was the most promising student in her class.

She slammed the book closed. There were a few moments of silence before it was filled with the usual chatter. Randolf and Toria were trading Chocolate Frog cards. Draco was telling Crabbe and Goyle they needed to try out for the Quidditch team.

Marivetta threw her book against the compartment door so that it rattled the hinges loudly.

"That little bint couldn't even properly brew healing draughts last year," she hissed.

"Don't worry," Draco said, smiling. "If she really is his student assistant, we'll just have to make her as miserable as possible."

There were several thumps as the train stopped and Randolf had to put his hand up to stop their trunks from falling out of the rack.

Marivetta couldn't help but smile as she stepped of the train. In a few minutes she would be back at Hogwarts.

She walked past the woman who was gathering the first years.

Draco laughed. "I knew that oaf Hagrid wouldn't make it back," he said. "Father says they sent him to the giants to sway them against the Dark Lord."

"Not much hope there," she said. "Giants don't fancy wizards much at all."

They walked through the crowd up the platform to the carriages. Marivetta paused to watch the thestrals toss their heads.

"I wish I could see them," Toria whispered.

"No, you don't," Randolf replied. He was watching them, too.

"Looks like Potter's taste in friends has not improved much," Draco announced loudly. They all turned to see Harry Potter and Luna Lovegood getting into one of the carriages.

Marivetta marveled at this. She had never seen Potter speak to Luna Lovegood and found it distinctly odd that he had chosen to introduce himself on the train ride over. She had a glimpse of his green eyes behind their circular glasses before he closed the door to his carriage.

The ride to the castle was filled with more Quidditch talk. And though the conversation held absolutely no interest for Marivetta, Toria was listening raptly to Draco.

The Entrance Hall was packed full of students laughing and greeting old friends. Their group was given a wide birth by a group of second year Hufflepuffs.

They were nearly into the Great Hall when a stern voice cut through the din.

"Miss Hunter!"

They all turned to see that Professor McGonagall had broken through the Hufflepuffs. She gazed through her square-cut glasses that were perched precariously on the end of her nose.

"Professor Snape needs to see you in his office before the feast starts," she said. Marivetta stared at her. "He is waiting." McGonagall stormed off to scold a pair of second year Gryffindors who were having a shoving fight to get into the Great Hall.

Marivetta stared around to Draco, Toria, and Randolf.

"You can't be in trouble already..." Toria said.

"I'll just go," Marivetta said, shoving a few Ravenclaws out of the way on her way to the dungeons.

* * *

Severus Snape sat silently behind his desk. He had a sallow, thin face, with a long hooked nose that gave the impression that he was a large bird of prey. He had shoulder length, blue-black hair that fell around his face in an almost stringy fashion. His office was lit with a single torch that caused the large array of jars and flasks that sat on the shelves lining his walls to twinkle oddly.

He stared down at his hands folded on the desktop.

Dumbledore's words form earlier rang around the empty office as if he had just spoken them.

You have to be careful, you know the people she associates with. And the people her parents associate with.

It wasn't as if he hadn't thought about that. What if he let her get too close and she discovered his secret? What if she passed it on to her friends, or her father? It could be the end of him. He'd have to be meticulously cautious when she was around.

There was a soft knock on his door.

"It's open, Miss Hunter." Now, with the silence broken Dumbledore's voice no longer echoed in Snape's mind.

The door opened and Marivetta popped her head in. "You wanted to see me, Sir?" Her thick braid fell in front of her shoulder, her eyes focused quizzically on him.

"Yes, Marivetta, have a seat," he answered, indicating a chair in front of his desk.

She snapped the door closed and sat gazing around the room. Marivetta had only been in this office on a couple occasions, other times she'd just stood outside the doorway and spoke to him there. Her stomach gave a disgusted jolt as her eyes rested on a jar full of green liquid that had a pus-filled slug floating in it.

"As I'm sure you know," Snape began, gazing at her intently, "every year I choose a seventh year student out of my N.E.W.T. level classes to be my student assistant. The assistant, while helping with mundane things like grading papers, also helps with the brewing of potions that would not normally be covered in a classroom setting."

Marivetta's jaw fell open. "You're not... but I'm... ME?"

"I feel that Advanced Potions will not teach you much more than you already know. Therefore you would profit greatly with exposure to some of the complex potions I find myself brewing here at Hogwarts."

"But I'm not even Head Girl!" She couldn't suppress these words from spilling out of her mouth, but she felt immensely stupid for saying them.

Snape gave her a thin grin. "If you must know, our Head Girl's Potions grades are not really up to snuff. Not as if that has stopped her from owling me every week this summer to ask if I'd chosen my assistant yet. After that I'd just rather let Peeves be my assistant over her."

Marivetta could not suppress her triumphant smile after that comment. "It will be an honor to work with you, Sir."

He stood. "Now that we've settled that, we should head to the feast."

She followed him through the dark dungeon corridors. She couldn't believe it. She'd dreamt of having Professor Snape mentor her in the art of Potion brewing but she never thought she'd get the chance. She watched silently as his robes flowed smoothly behind him as they climbed the stone stairs back into the entrance hall. She held her chin high as they walked past the Ravenclaw table. She could see Trudie Drumhiller looking from Professor Snape to Marivetta suspiciously.

Draco had saved her a seat next to him, and when she sat he promptly began to inform her of the Sorting Hat's song of warning.

"Load of rubbish about standing together," Randolf said.

"If the hat thinks we're going to be friends with the bloody Gryffindors it has truly lost its marbles," Draco said, glaring over at the Gryffindor table.

Marivetta was trying to look interested in this news, but clearly she was failing, because Randolf was staring at her.

"What are you smiling about?" he asked, looking surprised.

"Professor Snape just offered me the position of his Student Assistant," she answered, still smiling.

Draco looked as if Christmas had come early. "That will please Trudie," he said. "I think I'll go tell her. Come on, you two."

He strutted off towards the Ravenclaw table, Crabbe and Goyle in tow.

Severus was eating quietly at the head table. His long, black hair fell loosely around his shoulders.

"Did Miss Hunter accept your offer?" Albus asked, taking a bite of his pork chop.

"Yes, in fact she seemed fairly pleased," Severus answered.

"Are you talking about Harold Hunter's daughter?" a shrill voice interrupted their conversation.

It was Dolores Umbridge, her squashed face alive with interest.

"Her father is highly respected by many ministry members," she said. "He's an excellent donor who supports many worthy causes."

Severus was staring at her incredulously.

"We are well aware of Harold's achievements, his daughter has just been made Severus' student assistant," Albus said calmly.

"Excellent, I highly approve," Umbridge said.

"No one asked for your-" Severus began.

"That is wonderful to hear," Albus interrupted him. The plate in front of him magically emptied of its contents as he rose to his feet.

Marivetta wasn't paying much attention to the post-feast wrap up. She was pleasantly stuffed and ready for bed when Umbridge began her long-winded speech.

Fortunately, she wasn't the only one not paying attention. Draco was staring up at the head table with a glazed look. And Toria was tapping her fingers absently on the table.

"Is this hag ever going to shut up and let us go to bed?" Randolf asked, yawning.

Marivetta began contemplating walking out, but as soon as the thought crossed her mind Dumbledore was speaking again.

She exchanged weary looks with Draco as they were dismissed.

"What the hell was that all about?" Randolf asked.

"Just another amusing Defense Against the Dark Arts professor," Toria answered.

But as Marivetta climbed wearily into her four-post bed, she couldn't help but think that having Umbridge as a teacher was going to be far from amusing.