Hogwarts Trilogy Part One: Secrets and Sorceresses

Chapter 3

 

Heading for Hogwarts-again

 

In which we’re trying to get to Platform 9 ¾ in time,

sit through the Sorting Feast,

meet a very late Alcyone, a tetchy Snape

and get a few hints of the Past.

* * * * *

"Mum! They’ll be here any minute now, can you please make it snappy!"

 

Lisa hurried between the kitchen and the hall where all her things stood; ready to leave if her parents could realise that they actually had to go. She had been packing for a couple of days now, and was extremely relieved that it was going to be another year before she had to repeat it. All her robes were cleaned and ironed, her books had been bought and laid neatly in her capacious black suitcase, waiting for her to read them. Apart from the school books, she had brought several of her personal favourites and gifts from her parents who had made it a tradition to give her three novels of her own choice every start of term. This year, Lisa’s trio consisted of "Modern Magic Mysteries", "A Guide to Medieval Sorcery" and the highly recommended (by her friends) collection of fantastic Muggle stories, called "Without Wands- a study of British Muggle life". With her friend Mandy being Muggleborn, Lisa felt obliged to learn as much as possible about the world she had grown up in. Besides, she thought, Muggles were outstanding in creating fabulous culture- she loved their television, radio stations and literature, and wouldn’t mind living a completely Muggle oriented life, as long as she had her wand to solve the problems. Judith came running down the stairs, interrupting her daydreaming with a satisfied cry of joy as they both heard a car outside.

 

"Oh, they’re here! Alex, get out here now! Lisa, are you sure you got everything?"

 

"Yes, mum."

 

"Every book? Your toothbrush? Your cauldron?"

 

"Yes, I’ve been organising this for days, don’t worry."

 

"Your wand?"

 

Lisa sighed.

 

"Of course I have my wand, mum. I’m a witch!"

 

Her mum smiled but didn’t seem to listen very much. She took the suitcase and moved towards the door when Alexander Turpin finally came out of the kitchen with another little bag he handed over to his daughter.

 

"Provisions for the trip. If not delicious so at least next to."

 

"Thanks, dad. Will you come with us to the station?"

 

He nodded.

 

"Of course I will, sweetie. Are we going right away?"

 

Neither Lisa nor her mum had a chance to answer before the doorbell rang and a group of people entered, making a lot of noise in the process. Lisa grinned when she saw Mandy and her older brother Oscar joke around with their parents as they all stood in the hall and smiled. Mr and Mrs Brocklehurst were unconventional Muggle parents, dressed in colourful, wide clothes that didn’t do them any favours. Mandy’s mum -Gemma- was her own mother’s best friend since the radical 70’s when they had met during a Solidarity March around London and became friends over a debate about the Third World. She was a large woman with long, red hair and roaring laughter that showed her rabbit-like teeth. Lisa loved Mrs Brocklehurst and the fact that she never nagged about things as her own mum tended to do sometimes. (Of course, Mandy didn’t agree on that question.) Alan, Mandy’s father, was very tall and very robust and matched his wife rather elegantly. He had brownish hair with grey streaks, and gentle brown eyes that always seemed to smile even when his mouth didn’t. Oscar had the exact same look, except that he was thinner and not as tall. He studied at RADA and had never showed any magical ability, only a great talent for theatre. Lisa hated to admit it, but she had had a crush on him since kindergarten. As far as Mandy’s appearance concerned, she was her mother’s daughter and promised to become a rather big girl even if her body was more athletically built after years of football and Quidditch and her hair was more brown than red. She too had that fantastic laughter that could make anyone happy.

 

"Hi!" she shouted and gave Lisa the hug of the century. "Are you ready to go?"

 

"Not so fast," smiled Gemma and surrounded the much smaller Judith with hugs and kisses on the cheeks. "Amanda has been excited about school for several weeks now, which makes me wonder what they do there…"

 

Judith laughed.

 

"Oh my, I don’t think you would want me to tell you…I tend to know a lot about Love charms and potions since my days at Hogwarts…"

 

Alexander had turned slightly red where he was standing and Lisa felt that she really didn’t want her mum to go on about this topic much longer. Mandy grinned beside her.

 

"Come on, we can go to the car…"

 

A few minutes later, every one was standing outside looking sceptically at the old brown Volvo, that looked pained with the thought of transporting seven people and four suitcases even a metre. Mr and Mrs Brocklehurst shrugged helplessly, but Judith drew out her wand.

 

"Engorgio!" she exclaimed and the car grew until it looked like a mini-bus. In fact, she did turn it to a mini-bus to avoid Muggles staring at it in disbelief. Gemma clapped her hands.

 

"Stunning! I always suspected it would become lucrative with magical friends…See Alan, now we don’t have to buy a new car either!"

 

As they parked the car, fifteen minutes later, Judith got excited when the small Boot family came walking towards them. Lisa blushed. Terry and his parents were always a source of embarrassing moments with her family since her mum was effusively exhilarated knowing that her daughter had a boyfriend.

 

"Lisa, Lisa- look!" she said and made Mandy laugh while Lisa tried to get out of the car as soon as possible. She waved at Terry who brightened up at the mere sight of her. When they had braved various neuroses and finally hugged each other, Lisa thought she could hear a satisfied squeak from her mum, but hoped that it was something she misinterpreted. She looked at Terry and smiled.

 

"Missed you."

 

"Ditto," he grinned and looked around them before he bent down and gave her a small kiss on the mouth. Terry Boot was a skinny, tall boy with clever blue eyes that always expressed his feelings. He talked and moved with the same nimble friendliness that was so characteristic of him and that made him appreciated by most people. Terry was someone who could mix with Draco Malfoy as well as Neville Longbottom without upsetting any of them. And he was Judith Turpin’s personal little dear at the moment. When he and his parents - William and George Boot, two well-groomed Irish gentlemen- started to carry their things to the platform, Lisa found herself standing with her mum.

 

"Oh, I’m so fond of little Terry, dear," she said, enthusiastically. "And so proud of you! I often tell my friends that your boyfriend comes from a modern family-"

 

"Mum,"

 

"What?"

 

Lisa shook her head. No one could, like her mum, make every little detail in life to a question of politics.

 

"I’m dating Terry because I like him, not because he’s politically correct!"

 

Judith had a distant tone in her voice when she answered that, after following the three men with interested and curious eyes, as though they were exotic animals who would do some spectacular show any minute.

 

"Of course you do, dear…of course…"

 

 

^#^^^^^^^^^#^

 

 

Millicent walked with her parents on either side of her, slowly approaching the crowded station where they arrived more than forty minutes before the train was going to take off. The morning had been improving ever since she woke up and now, with all her things finally sorted, she wanted to sit down on the Hogwarts Express and go back to sleep. The contradiction of sharing a compartment with Pansy and getting rest was making her smile. Her mum, a short, pretty woman who always seemed to look at her only daughter with unexpressed sadness in her perfect face, patted her on the shoulder and tried to straighten out Millicent’s hopelessly mucky Muggle shirt with a sigh. It was large as a smaller tent and didn’t fit anywhere. She almost cried as she caught a glimpse of herself in a window or –god forbid- a mirror along the way. The fact that her own mum was a former stylist, and someone who men still turned around to look at in the streets, made everything worse. Mrs Diana Bulstrode looked brilliant, still going strong in her mid 50’s and beside her clumsy daughter, she made quite a few people stare.

 

"I don’t understand why all your clothes are looking like this, darling," she said and tried to ruffle the light brown hair before Millicent drew back.

 

"Don’t!"

 

Her mother didn’t care and was still embroiled in her personal crusade about the clothes these days. It was her way of dealing with the problem of Millicent being anything but cute or even sympathetic looking.

 

"The quality of today’s Muggle clothes is outrageous, mark my words! Scrappy copies of the really expensive ones --all of them…no class…no sense of style or decent materials. Look at her shirt, John- a typical case of bad production, don’t you agree?"

 

Mr Bulstrode, a tall, huge man who didn’t use his vocabulary more than necessarily, shrugged.

 

"I don’t know…"

 

"You don’t know? How can you not know? Look at the bloody shirt and tell me it isn’t a cheap and bad copy of a real t-shirt? See for yourself, it doesn’t fit!"

 

She made a gesture, sweeping over Millicent’s body with a discontented grin, mumbling something that most of all sounded like curses.

 

"…worthless…write them a letter…it’s robbery to pay for it…"

 

"Or mum," Millicent suddenly said, shattered, "you could just sod off and leave me alone!"

 

She knew that her mum was going to come up with another peppy little speech in a few seconds, when they suddenly saw the Malfoys walking towards them, with the little brat Draco in the front. It made her dad groan and her mum stop thinking about Millicent for a while. As soon as the other family had noticed the Bulstrodes, Lucius Malfoy strode up to them, sneering.

 

"Well, well, what a surprise to see that you still have the guts to show your face in public, John," he said in a cool tone. "How’s work?"

 

Draco and his mum giggled silently at this, and Millicent saw her dad’s friendly face become more and more filled with anger. John Bulstrode used to be a messenger at the Ministry, until he had been fired a few months earlier, something that still amused Lucius Malfoy to bits.

 

"I was wondering how low a wizard can sink the other day, John," the cold voice continued, "and it cannot be denied that my thoughts slipped onto you…Just when we all thought that you had reached rock bottom, you manage to sink even more! I guess that’s the only thing you’ll ever be remembered for…"

 

"Belt up, Malfoy!" Mrs Bulstrode hissed, with her eyes flashing dangerously. "A man in your position shouldn’t be this jumped up…who knows, someone might whisper something in a ear or two, accidentally of course. I bet you wouldn’t be too nasty when sent to Azkaban…"

 

Millicent looked in despair at her mum who didn’t understand that saying things like this would make her semester a nightmare. Nobody wanted Draco to dislike them, and since he already made fun of her, this could only make everything so much worse she couldn’t even think about it without feeling sick. Seeing the scorn in Draco’s face was enough for the moment.

 

"Mum…stop…" she whispered and took a few steps away. "Please…"

 

Behind the crowds she saw the large Abbot family come walking, or rather running. Two small, blond boys jumped impatiently around in front of Hannah, the Hufflepuff from Millicent’s year, who looked calm as usual. She was talking to her fellow Hufflepuff friend, Susan Bones and trying to carry another little baby in her arms at the same time. Some steps after, parents and older siblings followed and Millicent wondered what it was like to have brothers and sisters. She was still thinking about that when she felt a pair of arms around her, from behind, and heard Blaise’s voice.

 

"Separating from your parents?" she asked and waited for the other girl to turn around. "Wish mine could have stayed at home!"

 

Millicent spotted Ana and Eliott Zambini twenty metres away, arguing with arms in the air and screaming so loudly it was impossible not to hear. She guessed that no one would be shocked to hear that the divorce was already on its way, but Blaise preferred to keep quiet about it for the present. Millicent never asked.

 

"Lucius Malfoy is currently insulting my family," she sighed. "He still finds it very funny that my dad is redundant. What are the odds of me getting friendly treatment from Draco this year?"

 

Blaise snorted.

 

"Who cares about that prat. Well, apart from Pansy, but she’s probably the only one!"

 

"I certainly hope so."

 

"Look," Blaise said, pointing her finger in the same direction as her eyes stared. "The Gryffindor Musketeers and the whole big happy family…isn’t it too much sometimes?"

 

She put two fingers in her mouth and pretended to heave up. Millicent laughed too, and felt her lips form a sneer as she watched the Gryffindors tumble their way to the platform.

 

 

^#^^^^^^^^#^

 

 

It wasn’t a particularly happy family today, Ginny realised, as her mum shouted at her brothers for the fifty-fourth time since they left the Burrow. Even Bill looked tired when his twin brothers made things explode every tenth minute. Hermione had stopped laughing at the practical jokes at a much earlier point and walked in between Ron and Ginny, trying to have a decent conversation.

 

"I wonder what we will be doing this year," she said enthusiastically to Ron, who seemed bored with the mere thought of school. "Take Transfiguration for example, I wonder if Professor McGonagall will let us begin to transfigure ourselves or perhaps bigger things than bugs. I can’t wait till we learn stronger Potions either- imagine how fun it’d be to do Death Resistant Potions, Ron! But then again, it will probably be horrible since Snape would try them on us…"

 

"And he wouldn’t care a tad if anyone really got killed…" mumbled Ron and got a sour look from Hermione.

 

"Have you ever seen Professor Snape try to kill anyone, Ron?"

 

"I surely wouldn’t put it past him to try!" Charlie smiled, suddenly taking part in the discussion. "Old Snape is a riddle and I wouldn’t want to be the one puzzling him out!"

 

Bill laughed.

 

"He wasn’t that bad to us though was he? Don’t know about you, Charlie, but I recall I got quite a few points for doing my homework and not mucking up the potions too much. Of course he was new back then, he came to Hogwarts the same year as me. I reckon he would be a pretty good teacher if he didn’t actually have to teach…"

 

"I wish that slimy git could be replaced, anyway," Ron said, with a dark scowl. "I’m sure he’ll do what he can to flatten my O.W.L in Potions if someone gives him the chance. Right, Harry?"

 

Harry looked at them, confused and interrupted in his Quidditch discussion with the twins.

 

"Eh, sure…"

 

Ginny smiled.

 

"Seize the moment and ask him something else, Ron. Ask him if he still fancies Cho…"

 

Ron grinned and Ginny joined him as she saw the face of Harry Potter go all red. Bill cheered.

 

"Gin, looks like you’ve learned from your brothers after all!"

 

The train suddenly appeared out of nowhere in front of them and people started to hurry with bags and goodbye kisses. Molly and Arthur had a tough job organising all the goodbyes but after a couple of minutes they were as good as finished. Harry and Ron were the first to enter, closely followed by the twins and Hermione. Ginny remained on the platform where Bill had her in a tight grip.

 

"Take care of yourself now, lil’ sister…" he said, lowly and bent down to hug her. She gave in and folded her arms around his neck. The smell of him was familiar, she had been sleeping, playing and crying in his arms since she was born and being near him still released feelings of comfort. She looked serious as she met his eyes.

 

"I’ll be safe, but you’re worse off, Bill. Please promise me to be careful in Egypt if you must go back there again!"

 

"I will. It’s the last time, though. I’ll be safe."

 

"And no girls I don’t know about…"

 

"Now that’s something coming from my little sister!" he laughed but stroked her hair as he said it. Ginny almost wanted to cry for no particular reason except that she was afraid of what might happen in the world as He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named had got his powers back. It was safe at Hogwarts, but also miles away from reality and other people, people like Bill. With a last look at him she made her trunk fly and jumped up on the little stair that lead her into a compartment where Hermione and Ron were already sitting, and where Harry was about to search trough his things for something. She decided it was time to put the negative thoughts away and focus on the excitement she felt. No matter how much the world changed- going back to Hogwarts remained joyful.

 

 

^#^^^^^^^^#^

 

 

Susan looked at the sleeping Hannah and rolled her eyes. She was bored to tears, trying to find something thrilling to occupy herself with, but couldn’t think of anything. The batteries in her walkman had died and it annoyed her that she wouldn’t be able to listen to any more music for a whole school year. She cursed the stupid, conservative old castle and took one of the cds to examine it further. It was a punk collection she had found in a brilliant second hand store last week while shopping for books with uncle Daniel, and even got him to buy it for her despite his hatred of anything that ‘rattled like a bunch of tins’. She had also bought ‘Meat is murder’ by The Smiths and a package of Ramones’ singles and would have given anything to be able to listen to them.

Hannah snored under the coat that she had swept over her pretty face, and Susan smiled. Good music was wasted on her friend. It didn’t matter how many times she heard a song- she just forgot it and kept on talking about her old heroes from Take That with misty eyes. As far as Hannah Abbott was concerned- Mark Owen could be the inventor of punk and Robbie Williams its leading man.

As Susan got to her feet and stretched out her body, she noticed that a large crowd of Ravenclaws was having some sort of meeting, and they all seemed to be enjoying it a lot since she could hear loud shouts and screams.

 

"You get no points for that one, Roger," exclaimed Sarah Fawcett, a short and stocky girl, currently dating the Quidditch captain Roger Davies, with a smile. "I had to help you, and since that’s against the rules…"

 

The tall, muscular boy grinned back at her, pouting his lips.

 

"One might think that my own girlfriend would make an exception for me, but see how cruel she is," he sighed and gave the rest of the Ravenclaws a tragic look, followed by roars of laughter from the whole group. Susan saw the couple kiss each other before Sarah scribbled something down on a piece of paper. Trivial Pursuit, the Hufflepuff thought with fascination, how Ravenclawish!

She had a good mind to join them when her thoughts were suddenly interrupted by a loud scream from the compartment next to them and two bellowing first years came running into the crowd of students with wands out. Susan had to go out to watch it, and she saw how the Ravenclaws stood up, almost staring at the scene. The boy, a snub-nosed little figure with chaotic brown hair, shouted in pain as the girl hit him in the head with her free hand.

 

"Take it back!" she yelled. "Take it back you ruddy wuss!"

 

"I won’t! No way will I take it back! Your mum is a Death Eater!" the boy answered and found a way to tear her robes apart with his wand until she was standing in the compartment in her underwear. Susan gasped but Lisa Turpin was the only one who actually did something. In less than five seconds she had separated the kids, got the robes back on the girl again and made both of them stand in front of her, still angry.

 

"Are you completely mad?" she muttered. "What’s your name?"

 

"Jim Pratt," the boy said very gruffly.

 

"Samantha Gush," answered the girl, just as sourly. "He called my mum a Death Eater!"

 

"That’s just because she is one, git!"

 

"Says who?"

 

Lisa looked at them, probably realising that it didn’t matter what she did as long as they were both hell-bent on fighting with the other. She sighed.

 

"It’s not very nice to call someone a Death Eater, Jim,"

 

"Ha-ha," Samantha exclaimed with a scornful look at the boy who had folded his arms over his chest. Lisa turned to her.

 

"And you shouldn’t hurt him just because he said that, Samantha," she added. "Now get back to your compartment and don’t ever do this at Hogwarts unless you want to have Detention for a week and reduce all your House points in one go."

 

The kids left, behaving as long as they could be seen, but Susan noticed how Samantha poked her wand in Jim’s back when they stepped out of the Ravenclaw compartment. Lisa sat down again, looking shocked.

 

"I knew it," she said. "This is how it’s going to be at Hogwarts now, isn’t it?"

 

 

^#^^^^^^^^#^

 

 

The Great Hall was decorated in the same way as previous years and the feeling of recognition was enough to make Lisa feel a lot better than she had done on the train, after the incident with the kids. She took her seat among her House mates who all were enjoying the Sorting Feast and whispered comments and theories about everything possible. A few seats were empty around the room, and Lisa heard people around her speculate about that but when she was about to comment on this, Mandy occupied her with other questions.

 

"Look at the staff table," she whispered as the Sorting Hat was calling for Victoria Dean. "It’s an empty seat next to Professor Snape- see?"

 

Lisa shuddered as the cold black eyes of the Potions teacher met hers but for the first time in four years she noticed something other than sheer hate in them. Could it be tiredness?

 

"Do you reckon we’ll have a new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher at all this year?" she whispered back after tearing her eyes from the object of her dislike of many years and heard the Sorting Hat shout: GRYFFINDOR! "Maybe someone will teach two subjects…"

 

"Probably Snape in that case since he wants the DADA job."

 

"I’ll leave tomorrow if he’s expanding his quality time in my life!" Lisa exclaimed with a strike of horror in her voice. Both Terry and Mandy laughed at this, which made her annoyed.

 

"What? I hate the man!"

 

"They say he’s very skilled," Mandy grinned. "Much more than he’s got the chance to show here…"

 

Lisa winced.

 

"I’m sure he’s a really clever wizard, but he’s also a misanthropic git of a sadist!"

 

"Plus, he called you uneducable," Terry added and hurried to place a kiss on her cheek even though McGonagall looked very displeased with him. "Which of course places him at the very bottom position on the list of Intelligent Wizards, right?"

 

"Exactly!"

 

"Peter Eastwalk!"

 

A tall boy walked up to the hat and had it on for couple of seconds before it shouted:

 

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

 

Susan, Hannah and Justin stood up among the others to applaud the new boy who- with red ears- ran to his new House and took an empty chair. Justin leaned down to tell Susan something as Hannah smiled at Peter.

 

"Welcome!"

 

"Eh…t-t-thanks…"

 

"He’s a tad too young for you, isn’t he?" Susan sighed. "I certainly hope he won’t be the new object of your affection."

 

"I don’t date kids, Susy," muttered Hannah, while the new boy looked around to find someone else to talk to.

 

"You don’t? Well, what would you call Dennis Creevey then?"

 

Justin giggled silently and Susan watched Hannah’s face turn red.

 

"It was one time, guys! We went to Hogsmeade and I wouldn’t call that a date."

 

Her two friends exchanged amused looks.

 

"Okay, fine. It was a date. But we didn’t DO anything…"

 

"I believe you…" grinned Susan and had Justin laughing so much on her other side, that Cho gave them a sad face over at the end of the Ravenclaw table. The three of them stopped immediately as she shook her pretty head even though the words that came out of her mouth wasn’t exactly what one would call friendly.

 

"Some people obviously have so much else on their minds that keeping quiet is impossible," she sneered. "And don’t mind Cedric…"

 

After the last student- Pollux Williamsen, a happy Slytherin- was sorted and had found herself a seat, Dumbledore stood up for what they all recognised as the traditional speech. Only this year, despite the pranks and laughs, the thoughts of Voldemort and memory of Cedric Diggory put a damper on the excited atmosphere and the joyful feast.

 

"I bid you all welcome to Hogwarts," Dumbledore said, looking at the four tables that had fallen silent and were watching him with great interest. "It is my greatest hope that all of you had a good summer. As you all can see, several students are missing from your numbers. I must acknowledge that some parents would rather take their children from this school rather than admit reality. But I will go on telling the truth. Voldemort and his servants are once again rising to power according to every sign we have been watching the last months."

 

Millicent felt that she had been placed in the wrong House. She saw Draco, Vincent and Greg scornfully whisper to each other and she noticed Pansy admiringly looking at the pale boy who gave her a cold sneer every once in a while. It was hard to know who to trust these days, and Draco Malfoy surely wasn’t an ally.

 

"Cedric Diggory," said Dumbledore and focused his blue eyes on the Hufflepuff table and over to Cho, who suddenly seemed so- Millicent couldn’t find a better word- grown-up, lowered her head, "will never be forgotten. He was a brave and good-hearted wizard and his death is a tragedy, because it shows us how close the dark forces are and how fragile goodness is."

 

"Not to mention how fragile poor old Cedric was," Draco grinned to Vincent who chuckled behind his large hands.

 

Millicent felt sick and it didn’t get better when the Headmaster raised his goblet.

 

"Let’s all stand up for Cedric," he commanded. "To honour his memory."

 

The hall was filled with scratching sounds of moving chairs when everyone got up with serious faces. Among the Hufflepuffs, Tristan and Samael, Cedric’s best friends, stood side by side, both of them with silent tears running down their cheeks. A summer didn’t change anything, Millicent thought. She was still sitting, awaiting her House mates reaction to Dumbledore’s instructions. Most of them got to their feet, naturally, but not all. Draco and his companions, a large group of seventh years and a third year boy remained, with folded arms, at their places. Blaise, on Millicent’s right, shook her head before she irritably grabbed her goblet and – with rancorous looks at Malfoy- arose from the chair. Dumbledore had his back turned to the Slytherin table just like last time, at the end of their last school-year, and didn’t notice anything. But Professor Snape did. His skinny, harsh face was trembling with menacing fury when he almost bent over his table to punish them without doing anything other than staring.

 

"Rise!" he mimed and something in his demeanour scared her. Millicent got up, beside Blaise and Malcolm Baddock. Blaise glared at Pansy who seemed torn between her feelings for Draco and the fact that she really wanted to honour Cedric’s memory.

 

"Get up, Pans," hissed Blaise, threateningly.

 

The girl got a shrug from Draco, someone who didn’t seem to give a fig about his faithful admirer. Pansy sighed.

 

"Get up," Blaise repeated, followed by Snape’s silent orders. Pansy was becoming desperate but the look of horror in her eyes didn’t seem to make Blaise any softer.

 

"Rise your bloody fat arse from that chair, Pansy Parkinson, or I’ll tell the whole school that you put socks in your bra!"

 

With a feeble whimper, the girl scrambled to her feet, but tried to avoid the flashing eyes of the lot who were seated around the table. Millicent looked in Professor Snape’s direction and for a short, but extraordinarily strong moment, she felt empathy for him. His face, the black eyes and his very body looked so tired, so worn out, that her stomach ached. I’m sorry, Professor, she thought guiltily, it’s just not that easy being a good Slytherin these days!

 

 

^#^^^^^^^^^#^

 

 

 

The Slytherins were moving to the dungeons with a lot of mixed emotions. Pansy had been forgiven and walked by Draco’s side, smiling at every word he said, and gave the others strange looks. Blaise had a dogged expression as she held a loud conversation with two sixth years who had been the first to stand up in the Great Halls.

 

"It’s unbelievable," she muttered. "Totally unbelievable. I so hate this stupid house!"

 

"There’s nothing wrong with Slytherin," one of the older students said. "It’s Malfoy and the other Death Eater wannabes who are stupid. Did you see Professor Snape’s look at the dinner? He was about to go ballistic and it looked as though something just barely stopped him from attacking us…"

 

Blaise winced.

 

"Never thought I would say this, but I feel sorry for him. Must be embarrassing in front of the other teachers…bet they all gossip about how hopeless we are."

 

"We’ll show them, Blaise."

 

None of them had the time to participate any further in the discussion before they were interrupted by a cold, shrill voice that was piercing the corridors.

 

"Running away are we?"

 

It was Professor Snape. Everyone had seen him upset and even angry before, but no one could say that they ever had suspected him to possess the vast amount of sheer rage that he showed as he came swooping towards them. His thin lips were pressed together and his eyes flashed.

 

"Did you enjoy the dinner, Mr Malfoy?" he spat out, apparently trying to nail Draco with his irritation. "And how about you, Mr Goyle? Crabbe? Or my graduating students here…"

He turned around to look them all in the eyes. "How very lucky for you lot that Headmaster Dumbledore didn’t notice your inability to rise when told. Regrettably I daresay, everyone else spotted it."

 

"So what?" said Draco with a tone he would have died rather than using to his favourite teacher a few months ago. Millicent watched some of the anger fade into something else in their professor’s face.

 

"So what?" he repeated, icily yet calm. "Well, I’ll tell you one thing, Malfoy. Next time someone tells you to do something- let it be me or the Headmaster or any other creature on this planet, living or dead- you make sure you get your brain to work properly and follow that order, or I will personally make sure you are expelled from this school. Understood?"

 

Draco just stared in disbelief. Snape looked dangerous.

 

"Understood, Mr. Malfoy?"

 

"Yes, sir."

 

The doubt that was reflected in Snape’s black eyes was strong, but he nodded grimly to Draco before he made an effort to leave them.

 

"Don’t take this for a game," he said before turning around. "No matter which side you support, the Dark Lord is immensely real, and the sooner you understand that, the better."

 

 

^#^^^^^^^^#^

 

 

 

Running into the Great Hall out of breath and completely sweaty, Alcyone realised that she had missed the feast and everyone she was going to meet and it didn’t add much happiness to her already extra-ordinarily rancorous mood. It had been one of those days when you regret waking up, and it constantly got worse after the insufficient breakfast, consisting of old bread and tasteless tea. Cooking was on top of the Things Your House-elf Should Do List, but so far in life, Alcyone hadn’t lived to see it actually happen in her case. The overload of things that were going to come with her had been larger than expected and she was about to relinquish the entire project at least five times an hour before reaching the grounds of Hogwarts. Her bags felt even heavier now, under the burden of Homunculus who had stopped using his tiny legs at an early point in the day- approximately right after he woke up and heard the word ‘work’- and now refused to move without assistance. He sat upon her book box and watched his owner develop big marks on her robes, caused by sweat, and wrinkled his little nose at the mere sight.

 

"You is smelling very badly, Miss," he said and looked reproachful. "Not a good impression when you is meeting everybody."

 

Alcyone threw a hateful glare at him.

 

"Thanks to you, everybody has already left. Now, maybe you could give me a little hand before I have a nervous breakdown, you saphead! Take my wand and carry the bags up the stairs to the teachers’ corridor while I go find Albus."

 

 

"Ahh…"

 

"You don’t smoke, Homunculus!" Alcyone exclaimed, feeling more and more certain that this move would have been a great opportunity to get rid of the hopeless creature that now gave her a tragic look.

 

"I is taking the horrible move very hard, Miss…" he said between the puffs. "It has lacerated my heart…"

 

"You don’t have a heart in the first place…" she muttered. "And give me one of those!"

 

Alcyone sank down on one of the more voluminous suitcases, anxiously smoking one of Homunculus’ reluctantly sacrificed cigarettes while the doubts about doing this came back. She had no reason apart from paying back old debts to Albus, debts that remained gigantic in any case. She knew she wasn’t the only one working in this building for the same reason, but questioned the similarities of what she owed and what the others did.

 

"I loathe Albus Dumbledore for forcing me to do this, Hom," she whined. "Idiot…"

 

"Charming as always," a man’s voice was heard behind her, closely followed by loud screams from Homunculus who still had traumatic nightmares about an old man appearing in the fireplace on the Haunted Hill. "I presumed you would show up later than you said, and took a little walk in this direction to see if you had arrived yet."

 

Of course, Alcyone thought, of course it had to be Dumbledore. It would only fit her day so far. She tended towards giving this undertaking a thumbs down, and return to her cosy old house, as she turned around and gave a grim smile.

 

"Did you fly here or do you just like sneaking up on people?"

 

The old man chuckled.

 

"I think it’s a combination of both, but don’t tell anyone…So, Alcyone, welcome to Hogwarts."

 

She got to her feet to shake his outstretched hand as a gesture of tired agreement. Maybe it could work out. Maybe the world wasn’t as bad as she always had found it to be. Maybe she would find this job stimulating and the students gifted. Then a mental picture of giggling, gossiping, understimulated brats coming from anti-intellectual environments hit her, hard. It wouldn’t be funny, how could it be?

 

"Who am I kidding, they’re bloody teenagers…" she sighed to herself before looking at Dumbledore. "Thanks. Do I have a room?"

 

"Certainly. Do you wish to see it right away?"

 

"Unless you tell me that the corridors are comfy as hell to sleep in, I do, yes."

 

He masked a smile very well, she thought, but not as well as he could have done. She knew his every trick and facial expression by now, recognised his ways to undermine and show the emotions he possessed. One could almost say he was like a father to her. A father who, in her mind, told her not to use such a bad language. "A woman of your cultivation, Alcyone, doesn’t need to use swearwords to underline a sentence!" she heard him preach.

 

While they slowly moved through the long, winding rooms of Hogwarts, dimly lit by long torches and chandeliers, Albus updated her on the delicate question of Lord Voldemort’s return.

 

"He’s hiding," the wizard said seriously and met her eyes. "Presumably biding his time and waiting for us to handle…"

 

Alcyone gave him a very sceptical look.

 

"Would he really do that? It doesn’t seem very likely, I don’t remember the Dark Lord as a predictable kind of sweetie…"

 

"He and his followers are interpreting the Blind Seeress’ Prophecies," Albus replied, in a voice that indicated an aversion to any more of her sarcasm. "You are, of course, familiar with them?"

 

"Yes, but as far as I’ve read I can’t see anything in those predictions that are news to us in any aspect, Albus. Trust me, I spent half my youth analysing every word of them, and the only thing it gave me was a doubtful knowledge of ancient English and Hilde Libido’s collected thoughts of Sexual Metaphors in Old Prophecies."

 

"I beg your pardon?"

 

She grinned, filled with memories from her schooldays.

 

"Icelandic witch, very famous for her critical analysis of Modern Magic Literature as well as Ancient. She wrote a praised essay about the phallic-symbolism of wands too…I shall remember to bring it to you some time, it’s well worth a read."

 

Albus didn’t look entirely convinced and Alcyone made a mental note concerning his flushing cheeks as she spoke to him about these things. She had no idea that good old Dumbledore could blush because of a few words. He hawked.

 

"Well, the old prophecies are suddenly important in our work, no matter what we might think of them. Voldemort might as well plan his actions from the advice he can get from its cryptic words-"

 

"Hold it," Alcyone said, tired of the superstitious mood he seemed to be in tonight. "You expect Voldie to fall on his knees because of some silly hallucinations written in the beginning of time? Seriously?"

 

The old man didn’t smile when he nodded.

 

"Seriously, Alcyone. The Blind Seeress was right last time, and the time before that…in fact, I don’t remember her ever failing in her visions."

 

"No offence, but a good explanation would be the immensely vague way she ‘saw’ those," Alcyone sighed. "You’re not talking about the trite Serpent Legend now, are you?"

 

The lack of answer was enough, and made her roll her eyes in a mix of amazement and sheer humour.

 

"His son shall bring thy Darkest Fears to earth, in a time of less than light…Flowers will rot and sea will dry…blah, blah, blah. Listen to it, Albus, it’s a useless legend from- and it breaks my heart to say this- a worthless witch with too much free time! I wish she had developed her writing instead and made some poetry out of those romantic ideas of despair and nature."

 

A deep sigh came over the man’s lips as he watched her scornful face.

 

"Well, I cannot force you to believe in it."

 

"Don’t try then."

 

For a long while they walked silently up and down the endless corridors, both bothered by the other persons’ appearance and ideas. There weren’t many people who would have started a year at Hogwarts by arguing with the Headmaster, but this woman was one of the kind who did, and it cut both ways. Their story went way back: she had been two years old when she first met Albus Dumbledore, on a trip with her constantly travelling parents to Hogwarts. With her mum- a gruff witch who spent her old age cursing birds rather than feeding them- being what best could be described as a leader for the International Dark Forces Defence League, and her dad working as her devoted assistant, staying in one place wasn’t to think of. Alcyone remembered the old castle differently from last time; it looked more unwieldy now, and harder to grasp. Maybe it was her feelings towards it, or maybe it was something else. However, she had no time to get absorbed by thoughts before a hysterical, non-stop smoking Homunculus cried out in front of them at the sight of Peeves, circulating under the roof.

 

"Ooooh," he yelled, obviously bemused of the fact that someone actually feared him. "Ooooh, a little soppy elf! Boo! Mwoahaha!"

 

"Please, leave him alone, Peeves," Albus said calmly. "This is Professor Alcane’s house-elf Homunculus. Homunculus, this is our poltergeist Peeves."

 

"Boo!"

 

The small figure did a feeble squeak before running towards Alcyone’s calming robes where he got a hand on his little head.

 

"Shoo now! Don’t you think you’re foolish enough as it is?"

 

"But Miss…"

 

"Not a chance, dear."

 

She lifted him out from his shelter again with a wrinkle between her eyebrows that almost always meant trouble. Homunculus trembled but was completely ignored by his Mistress who glared at Dumbledore.

 

"Are you going to let us walk around in this bloody labyrinth all night or do I actually have a room somewhere along the way? I was hoping I would be able to meet the other staff before midnight…"

 

Albus didn’t comment on her rude language, but showed her with his right hand another corridor, on her left, where most of the doors stood open and rambunctious murmurs could be heard. Alcyone understood that it was the part of Hogwarts where the staff lived.

 

"You do have a room in here," the Headmaster told her, just as calmly as he had spoken to Peeves. It felt like an indicator of her childishness. "In fact, I had it cleaned this morning to make more room for your books…"

 

Alcyone experienced a second of bad conscience as she stopped to organise her luggage again. There was no need for him to treat her this friendly, and still he did. He had showed her for the last fifteen years how much he valued her, and how he wanted her knowledge as a resource for others. Not many people would have done the same she realised and forced a smile.

 

"How thoughtful. I’m just going to get my things in…can I meet you at your room later?"

 

"Certainly. Take your time, the night is still young."

 

Dumbledore grinned before he strode past her, slowly walking through the corridors in another direction, to do things Alcyone only guessed had to do with work, work and ever more work. It wasn’t easy being a Good wizard at the moment. But, on the other hand, it probably wasn’t easy being a Dark one either…

 

 

^#^^^^^^^^^^^#^

 

 

Susan sat on her bed, sorting the new schoolbooks and smashing her wand against each of them, irritably.

 

"Don’t mind Cedric…" she hissed. "Don’t mind Cedric…Who does she think she is?"

 

She didn’t get any answer first and turned her head to tell her friend something about the arrogance of not listening to other people, when she realised that Hannah had climbed into the wardrobe. A little while and at least five loud crashes and curses later, she appeared in the room again, looking sweaty.

 

"Artemis has built a fortress of my robes in there," she sighed with a grin. "I suspect that she’s still hacked off since mum took away all her eggs…"

 

Susan put the pile of books on the floor and got up to examine herself in the little mirror beside the wardrobe.

 

"I thought she did that, like, a year a ago?"

 

"Sure, but Giant Tortoises have a perfect memory, Susan. Gee, how on earth did you end up in Hufflepuff!"

 

"Because I bribed the Sorting Hat, of course."

 

"Wouldn’t put it past you at all!" Hannah smiled and got a murderous look.

 

"Ha-ha. You’re killing me."

 

Hannah had moved to her own bed and sat down with a tired face.

 

"So, you were talking about Cho, I presume. Earlier."

 

Susan inspected her brown eyes with a criticism only a teenage girl can feel when facing herself. They always looked so angry, her eyes, she thought and noticed a wrinkle in her forehead, right between the eyebrows, as a little reminder of her constant mood. Hannah was, of course, her complete opposite with a round and pretty little face that looked as if no sorrows ever could enter her own private sphere of joy. She was full of jokes and hugs and positive thoughts. After a short while, it got indescribably annoying! Susan grimaced at the face in the mirror and turned around.

 

"Yes. I don’t like her. She so Ravenclawish all the bloody time!"

 

"Ravenclawish?"

 

"Yeah," Susan exclaimed and felt happy they were the only girls in the dormitory for the time being. "You know how they are. ‘Hi, I’m smart. I spend my free time doing algebra and puzzles about the meaning of existence. My parents are professors. I speak seven languages fluently. I write poetry. I loathe everyone who isn’t as clever as I am. I’m so bloody dull that even my most erotic dreams include books!"

 

A reluctant giggle came over Hannah’s lips as she sat on the bed. She shook her head and watched Susan with amusement.

 

"I don’t mind Ravenclaws. Mandy Brocklehurst is nice. A little intense maybe, but nice."

 

Susan shrugged.

 

"If we’re supposed to find nice Ravenclaws, I’d vote for Lisa Turpin. She’s cool. You should have seen her today on the train, even Professor McGonagall would have been impressed!"

 

"Cho is also nice, Susan." Hannah said, admonishing. "Even if she acted badly in the Great Hall she’s all right. Must be horrible for her though, I don’t think you should judge her."

 

"Oh, for heaven’s sake! Can you be a little less compromising sometimes?"

 

"I’m only trying to see it from both sides," Hannah said and sounded exactly like the mother Susan didn’t remember.

 

"Exactly! All I want is for you to agree here and help me defame St. Cho."

 

Hannah shook her head.

 

"I know that. But I don’t want to."

 

It wasn’t the first time Susan had found her friend hopelessly stubborn in her ideas of never being nasty to people, and as far as she could see, it wasn’t going to be the last time either. She put out her tongue at the mirror.

 

"Fine. Go back to your stupid turtle then."

 

"Tortoise," Hannah corrected and brought out a suppressed cry from the girl in the mirror.

 

"Who gives a flying fuck about animals anyway…"

 

 

^#^^^^^^^^#^

 

 

 

The mark ached on Snape’s arm. Giving it an irate look, he saw the serpent and the skull darken on the pale skin and shuddered. Time for them to meet up, the men and women who terrorised the country. His mark was only too real, causing a tingling pain of the kind that didn’t leave you any rest. It had always made him cold to watch the activity of the ugly black skull; even during the days when he willingly Apparated to Voldemort’s side, the mark left him uncomfortable. The unsparing proof was what scared him most. He could never explain it with less than the truth, and the truth appeared to be completely out of the question. Undeniably, his arm proved what seventeen years of loyalty to Albus Dumbledore couldn’t erase from history. The court cleared him back then, failing in their wish to send him to Azkaban even though he had seen their covetous eyes staring at him. Still, he suspected that people like Alastor Moody would praise the skies if it came to their knowledge that Severus Snape had committed another crime. It was as though a tacit agreement had been made, all those years ago; an agreement that said that the very second Snape took a step that Albus didn’t approve of, he’d be convicted in no time and sent to the Dementors, without as much as a hint of a trial.

He walked across the room, anxiously awaiting the wracking pain to wear off, when the door showed that someone was coming. In all secrecy- and a moment of sheer paranoia- Severus had charmed the entrance to his room to appear transparent to his eyes. This let no visit come as a surprise to him and gave him important time to handle each visitor in a- for him- satisfying way. It was a woman this time. He sharpened his eyes to figure out who, but couldn’t recognise anything in the tall, stern figure outside.

 

"Come in!"

 

He didn’t understand why she looked so confused until he realised she hadn’t even knocked before the invitation. Mad at himself, he growled.

 

"I suppose you’re the new professor?"

 

Whatever answer he had expected, this woman didn’t deliver it. She inspected him seriously, with a stroke of familiarity all over her face, before she clenched her teeth.

 

"And I suppose you’re the same Severus Snape as I had the doubtful pleasure of meeting in Hogsmeade Halls many years ago?"

 

Severus reacted out of shock when he felt his stomach take a sudden turn. He stopped walking, stopped feeling the Dark Mark, and just stared at her for a few seconds before he saw the thin lips of his guest form a sneer. What is this, he thought, have I been sent to meet my evil clone?

 

"Alcyone Arcane," the woman said. "Assisting Auror 1975 to 79."

 

He braced himself, determined to remain cool and play her game.

 

"Severus Snape. Death Eater 1976 to 79."

 

"At least you’re not ashamed of it," Alcyone snapped, icily, and looked around the room without a visible goal until her eyes fell on the enormous bookcases that took up one of the walls.

 

He had never seen such grey eyes as hers before and couldn’t grasp the glint in them. In fact, he couldn’t grasp anything about her because she wasn’t made for that. The woman in front of him was very tall- his own height if not more- and had distinct and resolute features. She possessed something harsh, something implacable, that seemed to say ‘Do it my way or not at all’, but Severus wasn’t sure whether it had to do with his memories of her or not.

 

"Too late to change anything," he answered and felt the words taste like fire on his tongue.

 

"Are you sure you even want to?"

 

The question took him aback entirely. Alcyone watched him intensely and pictures of a frosty dawn, seventeen years ago, returned to his head as easily as though they had never been hiding. Lurking somewhere inside his consciousness, those faces were his most loyal company and expected followers on whatever path his life might end up taking. He remembered the smell of human blood as the whole room spun under his skin, inside his very bones, and forced him to turn his back to the woman.

 

"Scrabbling around for insults?" the impassive voice snapped. "Well, I’m afraid I might have grabbed your entire storage of them by now…"

 

"Lucky for me I have a lifetime’s consumption hidden."

 

Severus saw a smirk on her lips and felt how weeks of constant work, months without any decent period of sleep and this woman’s ruthless reminders of things he’d rather try to forget, built up a rage in him. Alcyone didn’t take any notice, however.

 

"Albus sent me here to pick up a list of students, Severus," she said, once again looking out over the room as though searching for something. "And I’m not enjoying your company enough to stay longer than required for a fellow teacher, so if you could give me a copy…"

 

"One minute."

 

"It’s not half bad; this room of yours," she said a second later. "Have a feeling it’s bigger than mine is. So tell me what it is you do to get one of these? Is it enough to be born as a member of the male species, or do you have to charm the old Headmaster too?"

 

Now the bubble was about to burst, he thought and held the fit down only by being stubborn.

 

"I’m afraid I don’t understand a word of your idiocy," he snarled and walked up to the desk to trying to find the papers as soon as he possibly could. If this woman didn’t leave him in five minutes, he doubted his own ability of staying out of violent moods. She laughed.

 

"I mean, even though Albus Dumbledore is a forgiving fool, you must have done something special to earn his trust, Severus!"

 

"My being cleared by the council might have escaped your level of understanding, Professor Arcane, but it was obviously enough for Headmaster Dumbledore."

 

"It shouldn’t be. Not after what you did," her horribly cold voice said.

 

He swallowed. There were things he couldn’t deny and he’d rather think about them alone, not with this person watching his every move. Luckily the papers lay on his desk and with a sour look he handed them to her.

 

"The lists. I was told to prepare them for you so I marked the classes you’ll have tomorrow."

 

She looked as though he had said something completely unbelievable and browsed through the endless columns of names with a expression that reminded Severus of how Minerva used to look when she was torn between disgust and curiosity.

 

"Potter, Harry," she grinned, all of a sudden. "So he’s a Gryffindor."

 

Severus winced.

 

"I’m sure you’ll notice that young Potter is a very…er, problematic boy…"

 

"How so?"

 

"Determined to break rules, cheeky, careless of dangers-"

 

"It sounds like every teenager I know," Alcyone interrupted, evidently uninterested in continuing the conversation about Harry Potter. "And besides, Severus Snape, would you have called yourself a typical example of a mature and intelligent boy?"

 

He snorted, and saw her sneer return as she went over the rest of the Gryffindors.

 

"Ron Weasley. Molly and Arthur’s son, I presume?"

 

"One of them, yes."

 

"Skilled?"

 

"Average," Snape answered. "Nothing like his eldest brothers, but rather decent in most of the subjects. At least he’s not worse than Mr Longbottom…"

 

A worried shadow flew in over Alcyone’s stern face and showed another side of her that Severus wasn’t sure he liked at all. She seemed to hesitate before asking him the next question.

 

"Neville Longbottom…is he…is he also a problematic boy?"

 

"If you count stupidity among the criteria for being one, he’s top of the list. Why?"

 

"Nothing," she snapped. "Just curious."

 

It was so far away from the truth that she might as well have a blinking t-shirt with the word "liar" on it, he thought, and felt a little better. Seemed as if he wasn’t the only one with unspoken things in this building. All the better for him.

 

"Looks like you’re going to handle my Slytherins first thing tomorrow," he said and felt a strike of empathy. Teaching defence against something that half of the class would like to learn couldn’t be easy. "And thanks to an official mistake in the planning, they’re sharing lessons with the Ravenclaws this year."

 

"A mistake? I didn’t think Minerva McGonagall allowed any mistakes!"

 

"Call it a minor change then. Or more truthfully- part of a machiavellian masterplan," he realised Alcyone wasn’t with him. "Times like the one soon to come call for a more united school than what we represent now. We need the Houses to weld together if we’re going to have any chance whatsoever to stand up against Voldemort."

 

"I have to admit that it sounds wise," she answered, still reading her lists. "But why wasn’t the original plan good enough?"

 

Severus remembered countless fights during Potions class with a tired sigh. During his years as a teacher, he hadn’t seen more than a handful of students from Slytherin who actually found a good friend in a Gryffindor. If Alcyone Arcane had been a student or a teacher at the school before, she would have understood what he was talking about.

 

"Because a Slytherin and a Gryffindor are bound to hate each other. It’s passed on by prejudiced parents, inherited grudges and a school so unenlightened that you’re startled," he sighed and made his visitor look up from her papers.

 

"Nothing else?"

 

He shrugged.

 

"No. I wouldn’t say that."

 

"I have a feeling that you’re defending your own House now, Severus. Couldn’t the reason to their mutual dislike be that the Slytherins are drawn to the darkest side of the magical world?"

 

Snape frowned.

 

"Holy simplicity! I was told that the new teacher had a learned mind, but someone was clearly wrong…"

 

She folded the lists and put them in her robes as she looked him in the eyes.

 

"And I was told that the Potions Master badly wanted my job and therefore could treat me with anything but politeness."

 

"Who said that?"

 

The woman smiled in a secretive and not at all friendly way.

 

"Is it true then? That I’ve stolen the job of your dreams?"

 

Severus shrugged.

 

"Would it matter what I said? Wouldn’t you just continue to believe that the former Death Eater Severus Snape is going to turn the world upside down and murder everyone in his way to the position as the Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher?"

 

"Probably."

 

"There we go," he snarled. "Please, give me another lecture in Prejudice before I go to bed tonight, Arcane."

 

She sneered.

 

"No matter how much I’d like to remain here chatting with you, Snape, I’d better go now."

 

She had one hand on the doorknob when she turned around to look at him again, and he managed to create a cold smirk.

 

"Oh, too bad. Keep in touch. Bye bye. And good luck."

 

"I’m still not sure whether I want to wish you the same…"

 

"What a pity."

 

The door closed with a heavy smash, and he was alone again.

* * * * *

Next chapter: The first lessons, a Severus/Sirius encounter explaining one of the many old grudges they manage to maintain, and a further look into the Soul of Hogwarts…