Live When There Is Time

There it was, a folded note bearing the frightful seal. And it had been such a nice morning that far, after the initial shock. Maia shut her eyes. Maybe the parchment would disappear if she concentrated hard enough.

No, there it was, creamy and pristine, daring her to open itself. She took it and broke the seal. The letter was in Greek. Well, Slytherin wasn't stupid. Of course he would have realized her ability to speak it when he saw the note she had scrawled for Helga Hufflepuff.

Dear Cousin

I have let the school know you have been seriously ill for the past fortnight and thus unable to leave my chambers where you were in special care of the family doctor. The staff and students of Hogwarts have presented their concern for your well-being often and emphatically.

Slytherin, the bastard, had pumped her for information two weeks! No wonder she had smelled. She had been out of this world for two weeks! Two weeks! Maia would have liked to shred the letter but there was more.

As you fortunately have recovered your health there have been made some arrangements for your entertainment. My colleagues were most persistent on the matter. Tonight, you will attend a feast in the Slytherin students' quarters.

Suitable clothes and an assistant House-Elf will be sent later. Should you for some reason require a contact to me, you will find an owl in the adjacent room, which has been furnished to be a sitting-room. On a table there have been left a few new books. Study them. Included is a scroll on which I have written advice concerning proper conduct as you appear to know very little of appropriate behaviour.

S.S

The initials vaguely reminded Maia of her Head of House's occasional notes on the notice board. He was aware that Gryffindors continuously referred to him as "bastard" or "git." She didn't agree with them but now she felt that calling Slytherin a bastard would have been putting it too lightly. Had Matt been here, he would have known the correct words. Brother had a vicious tongue when he so wanted. And he wanted more often than not.

Maia indulged herself and tried to rip the note to pieces. Unfortunately it was genuine parchment, really made of hide, and refused to tear. Enraged, she finally threw it on the floor and shrieked" Incendio!" Amazingly enough, she managed the spell correctly.

That urge satisfied she was ready to face the day as it came. She would not be weak and dishonour her family. Not some bloody Porfyras but her true family, Father, Mother and Matt.

Of course none of this mattered in the least and was absurd and naïf, whispered a nasty voice in her ear. She simply needed something to hold on to. The Brorssons didn't have it easy. Though old and wealthy family they were not influential. A tendency to produce sickly and still-born children added to the fact that their magic wasn't particularly strong. Father had often cruelly complained of her lack of beauty. Marrying her off would be nearly impossible. He himself had had to marry a child of a Muggle-Born as no old family would have willingly let their daughters marry Nathan Brorsson.

Ah, well. Perhaps she should go and see that sitting-room. There hadn't been one... two weeks ago. Only stone walls with two tapestries on them portraying so stuffed up people they refused to talk to her. Now she saw a new door next to the bed. Well, this was Hogwarts after all, the rooms were known to be rather flippant in their locations. Maia wondered what exactly had she told Slytherin while under the influence of the potion. Her status had obviously risen a bit, as much as she could judge. Where did Slytherin get these concoctions anyway? Professor Snape would have killed for the recepies, she was certain. Maybe they had been hushed up in the Ministry.

She pushed the new door open and was confronted with furious screeching from the middle of the room. A blur of soft grey feathers banged around in an ornamental cage on a long wooden table. A hysterical owl, must be too high-bred, then. Just something Slytherin would probably appreciate. And Maia disliked all animals, be they cuddly or crawly. She didn't really understand what made some otherwise completely sensible people adore mindless creatures. They made messes and demanded care and whatnot. Owls were admittedly useful but belonged into owlery, not in people's rooms.

She approached the cage cautiously, drawing her wand. Eugh, there were feathers everywhere, too. She knew her voice didn't have the soothing quality necessary for calming the owl, so she didn't know what to do. She couldn't endanger an expensive owl by trying to spell it. She wouldn't wish that fate upon an innocent. Finally, she conjured a piece of cloth and wrapped it around her right hand. Grasping the handle on top she carried the cage as far from herself as possible, cursing the berserk creature under her breath. She positioned the cage in the farthest corner of the room and installed a silencing spell in the are. The charm leaked, unsurprisingly, but worked well enough, thank Merlin. Now the owl could shriek as much as it liked without disturbing her.

That matter handled she returned to the table and took in the room. She was procrastinating, but she had yet to see an interesting book in this time and had really no enthusiasm for code of conduct. The room resembled Slytherin's own in many ways. There were a few divans, brown carpet, window-seat and long benches by the walls. The pillows on every sitting surface were a familiar moss-green, a shade lighter, though, than in her school uniform. There was no fire-place, merely a coal-pan, which did little to warm the room. She was grateful of the heavy wool of her clothes and even the head-dress. She wasn't sure how advanced mediwizardry was here. Catching a cold could turn out to be serious.

Sigh. Better start ploughing through the books. Besides Slytherin's scroll of instructions there were only two other books. One was in Latin about the "modern" Wizarding Society, delving into the function of Wizarding Council and the interaction between it and Witenagemot, Muggles and Wizards. There were a few quite gruesome pictures of situations where Muggles had caught a wandless witch. Slytherin was really making his point obvious while educating her. The other was same kind of tome, this time about Constantinople.

Fetching some leftovers from the bedroom she transfigured them to five bottles of butterbeer and began to read. Tea she couldn't for some reason manage, she would figure that out later. At the moment she didn't care that butterbeer was fattening, sod diets. She would probably lose weight out of sheer stress anyway. And who knew what Slytherin had fed her during the past two weeks. The thought of some food she had been offered earlier made her shudder. Mustering as much mental discipline as possible she began to plough through the etiquette, most of which forbid her of doing anything.

I. A Lady will never encage in a conversation without her Guardian's permission.

II. A Lady will never...

Amazingly enough, she was surviving. The thought had difficulties to register properly. Maia had spent the queerest, most horrendous night in her entire life some time ago. The title in question had been in constant circulation for a while now. The day she had been bestowed with a sitting-room and more studying materials, she had managed to memorize most of Slytherin's absurd commandments and had continued to plough through the opus on Constantinople. She had been halfway through when a House-Elf had popped in and begun without further ado prepare her for the night. The treatment had consisted of charming her hair into forming itself to a complex swirl of curls and pins. While her tresses danced around her head she herself had been perfumed and dressed up like a doll. Heavy make up had been applied and she hadn't even caught a climpse of herself in a mirror before Slytherin had arrived and without a word taken her with him to the Occasion.

Her enemy in private, her protector in public. Slytherin had sheltered her from the worst hullabaloo. Only select few boys had been allowed to come and bow to her and rest of the night she had just sat by Slytherin on the best seats, a throne almost, while all kinds of entertainment had taken place in the middle of the room. Magical Minstrels, plays and jesters, which lost some of its appeal because all of it was in Latin. Slytherin had few times spoken to her in Greek, mostly correcting her manner but occasionally even commenting on the shows. It could have been worse.

The highlight of the night had been a "surprise." All of a sudden everyone had gone completely silent. Half of the torches had flown to her end of the room, so that Maia and Slytherin were on some kind of a stage, almost. From a door, then, had appeared a youngish boy carrying something on a big cushion. As he approached she had seen it was the Sorting Hat. Maia nearly panicked. There were, after all, no females in Slytherin and in a way she had been sorted already. She had glanced at Slytherin, who looked calm and collected, even gave a slight knowing smile and seeing her distress, had whispered to her "They insisted. Surely you have nothing to worry about."

That hadn't been particularly reassuring.

The Hat, when a blissful looking boy gave it to Slytherin, had been barely recognizable, new and shockingly red. Slytherin had lowered it carefully on her hair-do.

The familiar voice, though not old and raspy anymore, had been perplexed. It had chosen to speak in Greek.

"This is most confusing. Somehow, you have been sorted already. But not by me, but you have memories of me... Fine, fine, it is unheard of, but I had better trust... my... judgement. Be then, a SLYTHERIN!

The boys in the room had worn various expressions of disbelief and astonishment. Then, as one man, they had turned their gazes to the person next to her, Slytherin, obviously seeking an explanation. He had just proceeded to smirk and pat Maia's hand lightly. It had meant something to everyone else in the room, for they had calmed and the celebrations continued. She still received odd glances through the night and Slytherin had looked almost good-humoured.

After it all she had had a head-ache from the distilled, sour wine she had had to sip to be polite and the little crumbs of food she had eaten romped around in her stomach, waging war by the sound of it. Damn the Slytherin boys for somehow finding out typical Greek treats and then serving them. She had been unable to resort to transfiguration.

Yes, amazingly enough, she had survived the night. She had also survived the next day with its continuous stream of visitors, among whom disappointed looking Helga Hufflepuff and Rowena Ravenclaw. After all, she had not sorted, against all expectations, into their houses. She had survived the rest of the week, everyday with a new fancy dress and unexhausting supply of new books on eclectic subjects. She had, to her own astonishment, survived Slytherin's personal quizzes on all these readings. Undignified, and mostly stammering in the latter case, sadly enough.

She had survived the following weeks, with little happenings in her life, more than just dressing up, reading, going to meals with Slytherin. Weeks turned into months without her paying much attention to it. She had no way of keeping track of time, be it hours or days. Her period was of some help as a measurement, but it was always highly uncomfortable nowadays. The cold merely kept getting more bitter and days shorter and darker, supposedly they were heading towards mid-winter. Her period was of some help as a measurement of passing time, but it was always highly uncomfortable nowadays. The potions and 'ladies' ways'" for dealing with the monthly token of nobility were horribly archaic to say the least. Not to mention the awkwardness two months or so ago, when she had actually had to turn to Slytherin for help. He had merely brushed her off in an irate manner and later the maid had left her cloth to deal with it. Highly uncomfortable.

The life in Hogwarts in Founding era was not particularly pleasant in any other way, either. Maia couldn't help wallowing in self-pity and depression. Even though life went on, it was dreary and uneventful. The continuous reading of heavy tomes in dread of Slytherin resembled uncomfortably revision for OWLs. There just was no end to this revision. And no light reading to cheer her up and to escape to.

At the moment she was strolling on the grounds. She had absolutely needed the fresh air and exercise. She had sent her high-strung owl with a note to Slytherin and left without waiting a reply. Maia was almost sure she could bear his wrath, honestly, what was the worst he could do. He hadn't hurt her thus far. Besides, her skin had lately acquired a pallor and most of her muscles, weak to begin with, had become non-existent. While walking she was once again mulling over the situation. It was in vain, but she had stopped even trying not to do it, though it was boring even herself.

She tried to take comfort in the thought that at least she would not be witnessing the war ending, or worse it not ending. Father was a Death Eather, naturally, and the Dark Lord losing again would be the end of him. Last time he had slithered off being sentenced to Azkaban by the convenient Imperius-excuse. Maia wasn't... hadn't been sure where she stood in the matter. There was certainly no love lost between her and Mudbloods, even though Grandfather had been one. He had been a taboo in the family and Mother had a permanent inferiority complex because of him. On the other hand, she didn't like the fanaticism involved in the Dark Lord's circle. It wasn't practical. They should keep their calm and leave the enthusing to the do-gooders.

The clear air had already cheered her up a little. It was good to not need to fret about a Magical World War. Never mind she wasn't completely sure if her present situation was really that much better. Slytherin had to have some intentions for her use. All the people in the castle had given her odd looks lately, especially Lord Gryffindor, who attempted seek her company as often as possible, to the apparent dismay of Slytherin. Gryffindor seemed to either be ignorant of this, or not care. Maia was also required to wear more jewellery lately. She had come to the conclusion it had "arrived after a delay from Constantinople." Slytherin if anyone, was diligent in the details. That much was obvious after he had a few times discussed in Latin with her to test her ability.

The almost snowless ground and frozen grass scrunched under her feet. She was glad there was no snow. Firstly, she couldn't have proceeded in deep snow with her dress. Secondly, it would have reminded her of all the snow-fights, she and Matt and Decima had had. She sorely missed having friends, being careless and free. She had foolishly thought her life had been restricted, having to be "a good girl" and attending social occasions. She had never been a conniver like so many Slytherin girls, she wasn't clever that way. Her intellect was disappointingly bookish. Seductress she would never be, but could hold on her own. No one had bothered her twice, coming to notice she had a surprising supply of curses courtesy of Matt.

She was also best friend of Decima Bulstrode, whom nobody wanted to cross, she having her elder sister's strength and added to that unexpected cleverness of her own. Decima and Maia were the merry nonconformists in a flock of trophy-wives or emancipated career-women to be. Not that they were nonconformists by nature, they would have loved to fit in but it was not to be. They were reasonably popular, but not overly so. She missed Decima sorely, her age-old jokes and easy-going attitude. Decima would probably have known how to handle even time-travel and Salazar Slytherin. Maia had always been the more clueless one.

She had reached a field full of rocks and boulders, among which grew few stunted threes. They were bare and dead looking, either hibernating or really unable to live on the stony ground. The air was cold and stung in her nose. Maia felt refreshed and a bit less depressed. She had always somehow liked nature, though never actively went to walks or anything.

She climbed the boulders, enjoying the roughness and reality of them. She was getting hot, increasingly so, even though the sun had gone behind a cloud. The exercise was a little bit strenuous, but surely she wasn't this weak. She turned and sat on a big rock to take a little break. Only to see an absolutely gigantic dragon approaching, its hot breath warming her like a summer wind even from afar..