Unfurling of a Rose

Chapter 3

"I'm glad you were prompt, Miss Griffin," Professor Snape said, swooping into his office. "Five points for Slytherin."

Expecting the meek and submissive countenance observed the previous evening, his new student's reaction was something of a surprise to the Potions Master. Corielle, in dramatic contrast to the previous night, had not even noticed his entrance, something that had never happened to him throughout his entire teaching career. She was deeply engrossed in writing on a length of parchment that had already been nearly filled, her wand forgotten on her desk, and all he could see of her was that ridiculous silver headscarf. Approaching her from behind as his had the previous evening, Snape read her practiced handwriting as well as he could over her shoulder. Her spidery scroll was Victorian and nearly illegible in its elegance.

'The use of garlic against a vampire is the most controversial and misunderstood protection against the undead. The truth is, however, that it is effective for a reason so simple that few realize it. The use of garlic is an ancient form of protection against diseases and prevention against abnormalities. It is said that if one ate garlic everyday, he of she would live to a hundred years old and still be in vigorous health. It is the healing and natural properties of the garlic clove that wards against the unnaturalness that is the very nature of the vampire. In fact, this unnaturalness is the explanation for many other weaknesses of a vampire...'

"Brilliant induction, Miss Griffin," he said, genuinely impressed, but taking care to slip his signature subtle sarcasm into his voice so as not to betray his thoughts.

Corielle set down her quill, completely missing the sarcasm. "I did read the books from the list, Professor."

"Did you read the recommended as well as required?"

"There was recommended reading?"

"On the back of the required list."

"That was recommended?! I though it was required."

Snape chuckled in the back of his throat. "You remind me of a recently graduated student." The rare smile disappeared as he remembered that student. "Hopefully, you'll be more promising than Miss Granger. She was an overbearing know-it-all.

"Put that essay away now. I've talked to your teachers. I have been told to teach you rudimentary Charms and Transfiguration as well as Potions. Professor Lupin is planning strict training in the Dark Arts, and Professors Shelton and Jenkins will work with you on more advanced Charms and Transfiguration. As for your other classes, they are electives, save History of Magic, and Dumbledore feels we should give you the benefit of the doubt."

Snape began pacing like a caged lion.

"From now until we finish our lessons, you will report here every morning and I'll tutor you in what you have missed in your nonexistent education, but you," he stopped pacing and looked at Corielle, who was looking at her hands, "will have to work extra hard, day and night, to attain Ordinary Wizarding Levels that are high enough to satisfy me. You will take the O.W.L.s at the end of the year with the fifth-years, and you will do better than the prefects." As he said this, he leaned forward until he was face to face with Corielle, who still refused to look at him. "Do you comprehend the sacrifices you must make?"

Corielle answered quietly, "Yes, sir."

Snape took a brisk step back and straightened. "We will begin with the simple Levitation spell. It..."

"Wingardium Leviosa," chanted Corielle. Her parchment lifted into the air. "Banished." The parchment sailed into her bookbag. She looked calmly at her Head of House. "Standard Book of Spells Grades 1 and 3. Mum had permission to teach me for the last two months."

Snape's eyebrows raised slightly. "Why didn't you tell me directly?"

"Well, I did not know how to. Interrupting would have been impolite, and I'm never comfortable correcting an instructor. I was taught not to do so."

"Then we shall have to unlearn you. When there is little time, we cannot waste it with etiquette."

Corielle did not like to disagree, but she could not help herself, "That might take more time than you think." She rubbed her hands absentmindedly. She may not have noticed, but Snape did. Her milky white hands were flawless except for several red marks and scars on her knuckles. Realizing that Corielle knew he was inspecting her hands, he swiftly changed the subject.

"What kind of wand? An Ollivander, I presume. It works too well to be another."

Corielle latched onto the new subject gratefully. "Yes, Mum took me to Diagon Alley almost immediately after acceptance." She proudly held the wand vertical in front of her face, splitting her features in half. "Thirteen and a half inches, yew, heartstring..."

Snape interrupted and stored the elements in his memory. Dumbledore had inquired. "Thirteen and a half, yew, dragon heartstring. An interesting combination."

She shook her head. "It isn't a dragon heartstring, it's human. It's a recent make, he's been doing it for only five years. I'm the first person to purchase one. I think the core is in its experimental stage at the moment. It has to be of a powerful magic, and there aren't very many witches and wizards who have enough magic in themselves for a wand. Of course, they have to be dead before the extraction of the heartstrings, but a person's magic doesn't die with them immediately, which is how it is possible for human heartstrings to be removed and preserved inside a wand. Mr. Ollivander told me that Professor Dumbledore has consented to give his heartstrings for a core after death."

Snape observed that while she was explaining the origins of her wand, Corielle was much more at ease. He also saw that she sat very straight in her chair with her hands daintily in her lap like a schoolgirl reciting. Her very preciseness annoyed him to no end, though for some reason, it wasn't due to his earlier frustrations regarding how very un-Slytherin-like she was. He cleared his throat testily, and was satisfied to see her flush and fall silent, even as he seethed that she didn't have the spine to resent his tyranny. Something about this girl just rubbed him in the wrong way very reminiscent to Potter or Longbottom or Granger.

"Well, as interesting as this is, it is well past time for us to commence your tutorial." Snape looked at his watch. "Seven forty-five. We'll have time for one test. If you have indeed learned everything over the course of a few months, then there is no need for me to teach you over again, and I can test you to ascertain that you have thoroughly covered as many grades of Charms, Transfiguration, and Potions in which you consider yourself to be capable," he narrowed his eyes, the sarcasm in his tone becoming more apparent. "Practical as well theoretical."

If Snape had been expecting Corielle to baulk at the idea of a series of intensive tests to be given by him, once again, he was proven wrong. Corielle did not miss a beat. She was scholarly to a fault, and she wouldn't mind testing. She knew she was capable - looking back on how hard she had worked with her mother, there was no way she could think otherwise - and she wanted to make Snape acknowledge her application. For Io's sake, she was a Slyth. A tiny part of her even looked forward to proving herself to him- a challenge of sorts. Only a very tiny part, though. He could still put the fear of Hell in her, without exerting a minuscule amount of effort.

As long as he isn't breathing down my neck, I'll be fine. Distance was definitely the solution. More distance than there was between them just then; he was standing about one foot away and was looming over her like an overgrown vulture. She did not want to admit it to herself, but her knees were shaking so violently they were almost knocking. With gritted teeth, she forced herself to ignore the tremors which swept through her and concentrated on Snape's continuing monologue.

"It is apparent you are already familiar with Levitation, but I want you to write a brief essay on the mechanics of the charm and why it is one of the most important spells for a witch to learn, to be handed in tomorrow. Now, show me the Disarming Spell..."

Snape drilled Corielle until she was nearly crying with distress. He was not kind, and she knew it was not in his nature to be so, but his icy attitude still left her holding back tears. She showed wisdom in doing so because had Snape seen one tear drip down her cheeks (and he tried, oh how he tried to break her composure completely) from her flooding eyes, he would have kicked her out of his office, and possibly out of Hogwarts if he could manage it, in disgust at her failure to be even a passable Slytherin.

Corielle reminded him too much of a combination between Granger and Longbottom, and it infuriated him that she had to be in his House.

What is she doing in here? Snape thought for the umpteenth time as he looked over her in disdain. Does she have no spine, no gall? Snape saw with displeasure that this young lady potentially might never develop into the Slytherin she should be. She was clever and had a mind for facts, but there were no other Slytherin traits that he could discern. She was a closed mind, and her many layers of clothing seemed to emphasize her desire not to be read. Both annoyed him - more than even Potter's presence in his classroom had managed to annoy him for seven long, bitter years. Impatient with his own frustrations, he called the tutorial to an end.

"That's enough, Miss Griffin. You've proven yourself adequate in practical Charms grades one and two. Tomorrow, we'll test you on theoretical Charms. Also due by the end of the week is a box of potions you would have mastered over the first five-year period. Here is the list." He thrust a sheet of parchment into her hand. "All this will be done during own time. Now, grab some breakfast upstairs and come back for Potions class. I'll allow you to eat in my class if needed, as I've kept you."

Corielle was visibly surprised, and, inevitably, Snape noticed.

"As much as you are led to believe, I am not a complete ogre, and you are my pupil and my responsibility."

Corielle stood, slightly more comfortable, and inclined her head. "Thank you, Professor." She grabbed her things, in total silence, and stuffed them quickly in her bag. Then, s briskly as she could, she walked out of the office, never once looking at the impervious face of her Head of House.

Snape stared after her. After seeing her abilities and her quick grasp of practical magic, he could not help but be slightly impressed. And despite his annoyance at her lack of Slytherin qualities, a rogue thought drifted lazily through his head.

Maybe this won't be such a bad year after all.

~888~

At breakfast, Corielle slipped onto an empty bench. Most of the students had already finished eating, and had gone to collect their books for class. Those who remained were busy finishing their toast, porridge, or eggs, and paid little attention to her. There was no sign of either Vic or Marcie. Checking her watch, she noticed with relief that she would have time to eat quickly and get back to the Potions dungeon without actually taking any food with her. A vision of Professor Snape's disapproving eyes plagued her thoughts, despite his assurances that food would be permitted. Grabbing a piece of toast with one hand, and flipping open her History of Magic text with the other, she began chewing. Engrossed in breakfast and Medieval Mages, she didn't notice when Draco approached and sat next to her.

"An enjoyable read?" he asked lightly.

Swallowing, but without closing her book, she replied, "Did he ask you to try and engage me in conversation?"

"Of course. Professor Snape and I have an... understanding now."

Draco reached over Corielle's History of Magic text and helped himself to a small pile of buttered cinnamon raisin toast from her plate. He paid no attention to the nasty glare she sent his way. Corielle, in turn, paid no attention to his indifference. Dusting her hands of cinnamon toast crumbs, she coldly dismissed him.

"It's not going to work, you know."

Draco shrugged. "It's working now, isn't it? Of course, there are other ways of getting your attention," he said softly, slowly moving his left hand to her back. Taking care not to touch her, his hands moved toward he tugged on the silver scarf wrapped securely around her head. His movements were sleek and stealthy, not causing even a whisper of movement that could have alerted Corielle to what he was doing. From her viewpoint, he was suddenly devoting incredible attention to the cinnamon toast in his left hand. Then, just as his right hand hovered directly over the edge of her headscarf, something extraordinary occurred.

Corielle swiveled to face him, deftly ducking her head as she did so in order to avoid his hand, which clenched on thin air instead of her scarf. Her eyes flashed fire as her hand grabbed Draco's, and the older boy winced at the force she managed to exert with her grip.

"Don't even think about it, Malfoy!" she snarled at him through gritted teeth. "I don't care what you say to me, but don't you dare try to violate my privacy. If I ever, ever catch you trying to yank at my scarf again..."

"You'll do what?" Draco sneered, though Corielle thought she detected a hint of worry behind his derogatory tone.

For a fleeting moment, the old Corielle worried, trembled, as she wondered how on earth she could threaten Draco Malfoy. He was too much like the nemesis of her past - self-confident, arrogant, complacently inconsiderate towards those who were weaker than he was. Then, from somewhere deep inside her, a new strength reared its head. She had a power of her own - and there was no way anyone would stop her from using it!

Looking at Draco with an icy calm, Corielle stated clearly, "I'll set Marcie and Vic on you. Oh, not to prank you," she assured him as his lips curved upwards in an amused smirk. "No, I'll get them to plant something in your room. Something that's already caused problems for you in the past. What do you think, Draco?" she asked confidingly, moving closer to him so that no one else could hear her words. "If Professor Snape or Dumbledore found more soma strategically placed in your room, it would be very difficult to convince them that you weren't responsible for it being there, wouldn't it?"

As she watched, Corielle noted with cruel satisfaction that Draco's face seemed to be turning a little paler than usual.

"Think about it," she advised calmly, shutting her History of Magic text and picking her bag up. Rising in one fluid movement, she patted him gently on the shoulder. "Think about it." And then she walked off to class.

Draco shook his head as if to clear it, blinked, then stared after Corielle with wide eyes. Where did that come from? Then with frustrated curiosity: What is underneath that damn scarf? What is she hiding? And above all, why is she so touchy about it?