Never A Tale Of More Woe

Slytherins had, in the whole history of Hogwarts School, made their home in dungeons in the east wing. Presumably, Salazar Slytherin had considered dungeons to be nicely commensurate with the Slytherin character. On what basis he had made this decision, no one knew, and no one questioned, though many wished Salazar had been more of a "cosy tower" kind of chap, rather than leaning heavily towards the "dripping dungeons" motif. Max Thornton was being loudly and wittily articulate on this particular theme, as he had just ruined a coat sleeve after propping himself up against a wall. He continued at some length, until someone threw a book at him with the earnest behest to stop talking and go away, or at least find something productive (and, more to the point, silent) to do. He was ready to oblige, as he was uneasily aware that his excitement over Anna's acceptance of his proposal had led him to neglect his Transfiguration homework, and the Transfiguration Master, a nastily sarcastic Slytherin, would not treat such a lapse lightly, when someone tapped him on the shoulder. He turned, and barely restrained a sigh of irritation when he saw who it was.

"What is it?" he asked abruptly, as Persephone Andreivich smiled seductively at him.

"Honestly, Max, darling, I've hardly seen anything of you! You're simply being too shy at the moment." Max humphed, and hoped that, having made her point, she would leave. A vain hope. "I was talking to your father the other day, and he mentioned that you would be attending the Merryweathers' ball next month." She looked at him expectantly, and Max nodded unwillingly, already seeing where she was going.

"Yes, I-"

"And we thought it would be too lovely for words if we went together." She smiled brightly at him, and patted him on the arm.

"Actually, I-"

"Now, Max!" Persephone looked up at him, and batted her eyelashes a couple of times. "You know what our parents are hoping-" That was the last straw for Max, who did not particularly wish to be reminded of what his parents were hoping.

"As a matter of fact, Persephone, I will be attending the Merryweathers' ball with Anna Chartwell. We are engaged," he announced loudly, and then regretted it as an immediate silence spread across the Slytherin common room. Persephone's face lost all its colour, except for two bright smudges of pink on her cheekbones, which Max had no problem identifying as rouge. He looked at her defiantly, one eyebrow raised questioningly.

"That…that Ravenclaw," she hissed quietly enough so only he could hear, then, as he was wishing he hadn't told her in quite such a public place, she whisked her skirts away from him, and stalked off. He eyed her departure with misgiving; a misgiving not lessened as Camberwell sauntered over and stood behind one shoulder.

"Hell hath no fury…"

"…Like a woman scorned," finished up Edmonton, coming up on Max's other side. He looked at them both.

"Thanks so much."

*** *** ***

Not only was the Slytherin common room located in the east wing dungeons, but so were the dormitories. Max, who benefited somewhat from being a prefect, had a room to himself, and, as Slytherin rooms went, it wasn't too bad. The walls were a little damp, but not too much so, and one side actually had a window. Admittedly, it was six feet up the wall and looked out onto the gravel path going by the side of the school, but it still produced some natural light. Not lacking for money, Max had introduced all the comforts of home, and it was, all in all, rather pleasant.

He was lying on his bed, trying to make some sense of Professor Snape's Transfiguration homework, when there was a hesitant knock at the door. He propped himself up on one elbow, and said, "come in" warily, half afraid that Persephone had arrived to have a second attempt at bringing him into line. The door creaked open and a head popped round. Max relaxed and smiled at his guest.

"Now what," he drawled, "have I done to earn this honour?" Anna frowned at him, bustled inside, and swung the door closed behind her.

"I've just had a little visit from your girlfriend," she announced. Max's smile vanished, and he swung himself off the bed.

"That…cat! What did she say? Whatever it was, she's lying, I swear. She's just mad because I told her about us in front of the whole common room." He reached for her hand, and paled slightly when she pulled away. "Anna, I swear!" She turned her back on him, and he stood for a moment, for once with no idea what to do. Then he saw her shoulders shake, and he pulled her into his embrace. "Darling, I'm so sorry! Please, tell me what she said, and I-" He broke off at this point, and stepped away suspiciously. "Anna?"

"You should have seen your face," she gasped at him, holding her hand at her waist and trying to restrain her giggles. "Oh, Max!" Then she was off again, and Max glared at her, hands on his hips.

"Think it's funny, do you?" he demanded in offended tones. "See how funny you find this!" He grabbed for her, and started tickling her until she screeched at him.

"Stop! Honestly, Max, stop right now, or-" Whatever her threat, it dissolved into more giggles, and Max grinned at her reaction, tickling relentlessly, until they both fell on the bed. He straddled her, tickling her ribs as she shrieked at him to stop, until suddenly he did, looking down intently at her. She caught her breath unsteadily, and returned his gaze. His hands were at her waist, and he started moving them up, ever so slowly.

"She's not my girlfriend," he said slowly. Anna nodded.

"I know."

"My parents would like it if I married her, I admit, but that's never going to happen, and they'll just have to get used to it."

"Mmhmm." Anna was finding it hard to concentrate, and bit her lip as Max's hand slid ever higher.

"I love-"

"Maximilian!" An enraged voice came from the fireplace, and both Anna and Max leaped up in shock. In the hearth burned the familiar greenish flame, and in its centre was an angry looking head with a neat beard and dark hair. It didn't take a genius to figure out that this was Max's father, and for the first time Anna found herself doubting Max's claim that his parents would "get used to" their son marrying the daughter of a Muggle.

"Father, I-"

"So, Persephone was correct. I am deeply ashamed of you, Maximilian. To treat the daughter of such a family in this cavalier fashion. And I suppose this," his scathing glance flicked over Anna, taking in her untidy hair and dishevelled clothing and dismissing them as quickly, " is the Mudblood in question." Max drew himself up, his own face darkening in anger.

"I would be grateful, Father, if you could refrain from speaking of my future wife in that fashion."

"Wife!" Quintus Thornton made an effort to calm down. "My dear boy, I can understand that you might be attracted to this…girl, but Thorntons do not marry their strumpets!" Anna caught her breath in shock, and her hand reached blindly for Max's, but he was too busy shouting at his father.

"How dare you speak of Miss Chartwell like that! I will marry her! I love her!"

"You will not marry her!"

"I-"

"If you do such a foolish thing, Maximilian, do not expect the family to accept her - or you. You will be a stranger to us, Maximilian, do you understand? We will not know you." And with that, he vanished.

"Max." Anna reached for him, but he pulled away.

"No, don't."

"I'm sorry," she said quietly, then slid off the bed, rearranged her bodice, and slipped out of the door, leaving Max to himself.