Unfurling of a Rose

Chapter 4

Corielle shivered as she headed down the corridor to Potions class. Why did I do that to Draco? she thought grimly. That was cruel, like something he would do. She could not believe she had threatened him with expulsion.

Even as she stepped into the Potions classroom, Corielle was preoccupied with what she had done. Marcie and Vic waved her over, but when she did not respond, the Couple stood and went to her, then steered her forcefully to her seat. The rest of the class watched with amusement.

Professor Snape, however, was feigning disinterest while guessing why she was so distracted. He also wondered whether Draco had gotten any answers.

Unfortunately, Snape had to wait for his answers; just as the bell rang, Draco sauntered in, hiding his confusion and hurt well. The pale boy shared a glance with his Head, but looked away. Silently, and despite the danger, he sat at the table next to Corielle. Corielle stared at him in disbelief, then turned her head sharply away from him as Snape began his first lecture.

"Congratulations. You have reached advanced Potions. You have realized that potion-making is an art. You have been chosen to be here because of your abilities in the field. Some of you." Snape's gaze rested on Corielle. She was rubbing the ends of her nails agitatedly. "One of you is only here because the Headmaster wanted you here, and the Headmaster is the only person in this school with the power to override my opinions." Satisfied, yet aggravated, that she raised her right hand to bite a nail, he backed off and addressed the entire class once again. Marcie gave her an exaggerated pity look that made Corielle smile, and she tugged her hand away from her mouth again.

Marcie was not sure why she stuck up for this mouse. Something about her was helpless, sure, but that was usually grounds for more teasing and pranks. Marcie felt like Corielle did not belong, but again, that was not an adequate reason. Still... oh well, what did it matter why? She could still help. Grinning mischievously, Marcie leaned over to whisper something in Vic's ear.

"...Let me remind you that the Sleeping Solution works with only a minuscule drop, so be careful not to drink even the slightest sip unless you have an inexplicable desire to be snoring into detention with me. Now, pair up. Miss Griffin," he snapped with a particularly evil sneer, "I said 'pair up,' which generally means only two people can work together. Miss Fireflow and Mr. Shaman already seem to have chosen themselves above you, so let's see." He purposely took his time looking around the room, letting Corielle squirm, the lit his eyes on Draco. "Yes, that would be appropriate. Mr. Malfoy, you will pair with Miss Griffin." Then, in a softer voice, he whispered to Draco, "Redeem yourself, boy." Then, in a swirl of robes, he retreated to his desk to observe the events.

Corielle felt like pounding the desk, but she restrained herself enough to rise huffily, then sit down next to Draco, avoiding his gaze as if the boy was a basilisk. For the days in the Malfoy Manor, Draco had learned enough decency to retrieve the ingredients himself and allow Corielle to seethe for a few minutes. After the crystal containers were lined up in order of use, Draco attempted a sort of apology.

"I never thought you'd react to it so violently," he said, unstoppering a bottle and pouring a tablespoon of warm milk into his cauldron.

"Now you know."

Draco glanced at her unreadable face, then said, "Why don't you just tell me why you wear that headscarf?"

"No."

"Come on."

"No."

"Please."

Corielle hesitated, the 'no' on the tip of her tongue. Somehow, knowing about the legendary Malfoy pride, she knew it was hard for him to say 'please.' Then again, he should not have been asking in the first place. And he had tried to violate her privacy by force.

"No."

Draco slammed down one of the bottles of scorpion pincers, causing a few to scatter on the desk, and stood up indignantly.

"Why?"

Corielle stood, too. She was tall enough that she stared straight into his eyes.

"None of your business. Why don't you concentrate on your own problems? For instance, why are your shoes are on fire?"

Draco's eyes widened and he looked down in panic. Then he grimaced.

"I fell for it."

Corielle smirked. "The oldest trick in a mage's book. Look, why don't you just leave it, and let's continue with the potion without bringing it up again. I don't want to be here any more than you do."

"What makes you think I don't want to be here?"

Corielle muttered a single, effective word. "Soma."

Draco winced. "I hate it when someone has a weapon against me. All right, fine. But don't think I'm going to let up on you forever, Griffin."

Turning slightly towards the front of the classroom, Draco unobtrusively gave a small shrug, but it was enough for Snape to see and interpret. Blasted girl.

Snape was lost in his grumbling thoughts as the class reached its end, and he failed to notice the uncustomary stillness in the room. That is, until the silence had reached even the most talkative of girls. Snape sat up suspiciously, glowering at the class. As usual, he caught the expressions on the Catastrophous Couple's faces, and he mentally kicked himself for lapsing into distraction. Curse that girl. This is all her fault. He braced himself for a prank.

Something ran up his leg. Snape gave an uncharacteristic yell, and swiped at his leg. A large, sleek, black rat fell out from under his robes, and he grabbed the vermin's tail. Breathing heavily, he took out his wand, and murmured, "Engorgio." The rat bloated to the size of a Labrador. A few of the girls in the room shrieked, and almost everyone jumped the walls.

With a grim smile, he said, "Imperio."

"That's illegal," cried Corielle, frozen to her seat.

"Only against a fellow human, girl." He pointed at Corielle, and the rat responded accordingly, shuffling and snuffling to the desk where Corielle and Draco were watching in horror. Suddenly, Corielle's face went completely blank, and Draco was afraid she was about to faint. But Corielle slipped her wand out of her pocket and did the best thing anyone in that classroom could have done.

"Reducio," she said softly. The rat squealed as it shrank, and the Imperious Curse suddenly became too big for it. It thrashed and turned until Snape lifted his wand, and the curse fell away. The poor creature rushed to the edges of the walls and out of sight.

Snape wanted to punish Corielle in the old-fashioned way, with racks and thumbscrews, but, knowing that he had absolutely no grounds for torture, he whirled around to face Marcie and Vic.

"You two, ten points from Slytherin each. And as for the rest of you, leave, just leave." Snape felt his self-control stretching taut. Any moment now, it would break, and someone would get hurt.

Sensing their teacher's overt displeasure, the students scurried out of the classroom. Marcie and Vic were giggling at the reaction of their newest prank, but Corielle and Draco were not laughing.

Draco explained, "He almost never takes points off his own House, but those two have always been the exception."

"I'm not surprised," Corielle whispered. "They're probably the only people in the school who would risk themselves to embarrass Snape. I reckon he doesn't like to be embarrassed."

Draco shook his head. "He's Slytherin through-and-through, and none of us like to be embarrassed. By the way, good show in there."

Corielle smiled at the compliment. "I think I was on autopilot."

"On what?" Draco looked confused.

"Never mind, it's a Muggle term for not really paying attention to what you're doing, just doing it. I went to Muggle schools when I couldn't come here."

"I see," said Draco, pulling a face. "Anyway, I need to go. See you."

Corielle watched him go, and one phrase stood out in her mind guiltily: "...and none of us like to be embarrassed."

~888~

"Your sixth year of Defense Against the Dark Arts is perhaps the most rigorous and difficult course you will ever take at Hogwarts. Instead of just learning things in theory, you will experience some of the worst curses first hand, and you are expected to develop important wizarding skills required for the rest of your life including application, blocking, and receiving. This year, in contrast to previous years in this subject, you will not be given a great deal of homework. However, that does not mean this year will be devoid of work just because there is no way to study for the tests through previous assignments. They are all practical and you need the strength of mind, courage, and perseverance to master them."

Remus Lupin had, if possible, grown even thinner in the last four years and the circles under his eyes had become deeper. His face was gaunt and weary, and he viewed his Ravenclaw and Slytherin sixth years through recently acquired glasses. He had just begun taking a potion as a stimulant during the day to keep him awake. Years of being a werewolf were beginning to take their toll.

Corielle was sitting quietly in the buffer zone between the two Houses. The enmity between Slytherin and Ravenclaw was not as pronounced as with the other Houses, but one still had to be brave to sit near a House that was fundamentally an enemy. Slytherin had fangs, but Ravenclaw had talons. And, unlike the gentle Hufflepuffs, they weren't reluctant to use them. Fortunately for Corielle, she was yet to experience the enmity generally shown to Slytherins, though she was already able to observe the contempt her own House had for the Ravenclaws; Marcie and Vic were sitting on the other side of her, sneering at various Ravenclaw students and talking incessantly. It didn't take Professor Lupin long to notice their inattention to his speech,
and he acted immediately.

"Marcie and Victor, be warned, I have a permit to practice these curses without question, perhaps even as punishment as I see fit. Unless you wish to be constantly on the receiving end as the resident class guinea pigs, you will behave. Five points from Slytherin. Today's lesson is finished. And that was merely a warning- though I advise you not to goad me into carrying through with the threat." The class relaxed into conversations as they began to pack up their things. Corielle was in the middle of lifting her bag when she heard her name called out. " Miss Griffin, if I could have a word?." Lupin asked from the front of the classroom.

Tightlipped, Corielle stood demurely and followed Professor Lupin into his office. She ignored Marcie's comment, which was called out after her, "You're getting popular, girl," though she did look back at her friend before Lupin closed the door.

Collapsing into a chair, Lupin dropped all pretense of being well enough to teach fifty-odd students and aged about forty years. He sighed and pressed his fingers to the bridge of his nose. Corielle just stood there about six feet away from him with her hands behind her back, waiting patiently for him to speak.

"How did it make you feel when you thought you were a Squib?"

The abruptness of the impertinent question made her hesitate before answering. When she did, it was with a coldness, and 'eye for an eye' attitude which startled even her with its brutality.

"Something akin to how you felt when you found out you were a werewolf."

Lupin's head snapped up to survey Corielle's placid countenance. He saw no signs of hostility, and his sensitive nose- used to reading emotions like others read books- revealed nothing.

"So it was not pleasant?"

Corielle shook her head. She was chagrined, and she was intensely ashamed that she had snapped at Professor Lupin like that. I know I'm on an edge because I'm in a completely new place, but that's no reason why I should be hateful to everybody. I'm acting like a Slytherin, she thought, feeling a little stupid.

Lupin sighed. "Maybe that's why the Headmaster wanted me to work one-on-one with you, and then some, though Filch might've been better for this kind of thing. However, if you need someone to talk to, I will hold an open-door policy in my private office exclusively for you. 'Wolfsbane' is my current password, and when I change it, you will be the first to know. You will find it adjacent to my classroom. Just speak to that ridiculous Pontemercy in the portrait, and he'll let you in."

Corielle, though touched by Lupin's concern, was confused. "Isn't that the Head of House's duty?"

"Well, technically, yes, but Professor Dumbledore believed that I would be someone with whom you could relate. I assumed it was because of the original degrading belief that you had no magic."

"It's full moon waxing tomorrow night, baby. I can't be there for you." He nuzzled her neck and tested it's flesh with his teeth. "I'm going to miss you."

"Miss Griffin?" Lupin was peering up at her. She started from the painful memory and spoke with more anger than was wont. "Either that or Albus Dumbledore is living up to the rumors that he is omnipotent and omniscient with everything involving Hogwarts." Her bitterness was cutting in its severity.

"You'll never go to Hogwarts, Elle, and I want to show you what you're missing, what magic is really about..."

Corielle shook her head. Remembering was going to do her no good - and nor was rejecting what was clearly an offer of professorial advice. Though she didn't meet Lupin's eyes, when she spoke her tone was one of quiet gratitude, laced with only the lightest touch of sarcasm. "That will be fine, Professor, thank you. I'll consider your generous offer." The dismissal was obvious. Turning, Corielle began to walk out of the office. Surprised at how well she had understood his own reluctance to deal with her, Lupin cocked his head at her retreating back and spoke again.

"Miss Griffin, I'm serious. Maybe I wasn't at the beginning; it was a duty, but there was something in your eyes just now..." Lupin trailed off at the awkward look on her face. "I'm sorry, go on back. Socialize for the next hour and a half until lunch. I'm sure it has already been an intensive day." Corielle was prepared to go, but the sincerity in his words made her stay.

Walking back to where he sat at his desk, she retrieved a large tube neatly labeled 'DADA.' "Here, Professor, my Defense Against the Dark Arts vacation essays for the last five years."

Lupin was startled as he reached for the tube. "You didn't have to get them done over the vacation, just over the course of the year."

Corielle shrugged. "What would the point of that be? I have other things that I'll need to do this year."

"The idea was that I would teach you enough for testing and essays."

The poor girl's normally pale face flushed a brilliant red that reminded Lupin strangely of Ginny Weasley.

"Don't fret about it, child," assured Lupin quickly, alarmed at the swiftness and violence of her reaction. "I'll grade these, and if there is merit to them, you won't have to worry about the essays or anything theoretical for the last five years."

"I hope you don't mind I went over the length requirements on most of the essays, and I had a little too much fun with the vampire essay, I think."

Lupin unrolled the thickest collection of parchments and scanned over a few paragraphs. He looked at Corielle, then back down at the essay.

In a hoarse, excited voice, he rasped, "I don't think you'll have to worry about testing out of my class, Miss Griffin." We may even have another Hermione on our hands. Where did she find these legends? At the end of the parchments was a list of references. "Partial to Muggle gothic horror, are we?"

Corielle smiled, and from that solemn, shaken little face came a light that seemed almost too bright in contrast with her usual somber expression. "Guilty." And she began to thaw from her stiff, formal demeanor in the gentle rays of his subtle humor, his lack of a biting edge to his words, and the affinity with him that Dumbledore had so aptly seen. In other words, the affinity which arose from the characteristics he possessed - everything that Professor Snape was not.

Lupin glanced over his glasses at her dark gray eyes, a gesture strangely reminiscent of Dumbledore. "From what little I've observed," Lupin said, rolling the parchments back up, "I can discern very little of how you feel about my subject, despite the eloquence and reasoning within the essay. So tell me, if given a choice, would you take this class?"

Corielle was not sure what to say. Any prospect seemed impolite. Then we shall have to unlearn you, Snape had said.

"To tell you the truth, Professor, no. I'm interested in the theories, but I... I don't want to do the practicals."

"Why?"

Corielle opened her mouth to answer, but nothing came out.

"Does it have anything to do with a dark creature teaching the class?" Lupin asked cautiously. Corielle shook her head forcefully, and Lupin sighed in relief. His nose detected a dash of panic in her scent.

Between kisses, Corielle tried to break away. "Uncle Willem, your teeth are growing feral."

"A few more hours yet, Elle," he reassured, stroking her hair and letting his lengthening nails rip through the material of her blouse and into skin.

"Then why?"

There were several minutes of pure, torturous silence before Corielle finally coerced two words from her mouth: "Personal experience."

Lupin stared at her intensely. "You're a part of the Griffin family, aren't you? Catharine and Nathaneal Griffin?" Corielle nodded, looking frightened. "They're nice, respectable people. I remember them from school. It's not them, is it?"

Corielle shook her head again.

"You live with your grandmother and you mother's younger brother as well, don't you?"

Lupin studied his feet in thought and missed Corielle's desperate look.

"You would tell someone, wouldn't you, if something happened to you?" He looked up, and started from his chair at the sight that met his eyes. "My goodness, child, are you all right?"

Corielle had fallen to her knees and covered her face. Lupin slipped out of his chair to crouch down next to her. She shrank away from him.

"Miss Griffin, what's wrong?"

Years of holding back tears prevailed and Corielle pulled her hands away form her face. To Lupin's gaze, there wasn't a trace of the usual symptoms of the desire to weep. Practice certainly made perfect. "I c-can't t-t-tell you." The look of concern on her Professor's face was enough to make her cry anyway, but she turned her head away.

"Miss Griffin, if you don't tell anyone, who can help you? If you don't feel comfortable speaking with me, confide in your Head, or the Headmaster."

Corielle looked at Lupin in disbelief at his suggestion that she spill her secrets to Snape and made a gesture of rejection. "No, it's all been taken care of. I don't have to... worry about It anymore."

Lupin took hold of Corielle's shoulder. "Worry about what?"

Corielle's face closed off, and Lupin knew he would not get any information from her now. The look was the same he had given Dumbledore for many, many years.

"When should the tutorials for the last five years' worth of practical curriculum take place? In the evening?" Corielle inquired, her visage stiff and her determination not to continue their discussion written in every line. Any visible clue as to what had just happened was a mere memory.

Lupin sighed, accepting the inevitable. He straightened up and helped Corielle to her feet. She let go of his hands quickly.

"I'd say during your lunch hour. I'm sure that your afternoon teachers would allow you to eat in their class. Your advanced Charms and Transfiguration professors will probably take up your evenings. I will go over your essays tonight to determine whether you'll place out of years one through five for theoretical defense. I'll see you tomorrow afternoon." He led her to the office door. Even through the stone, the cacophony of the class on the other side could be heard.

"Professor, what is your first name?"

"Why?"

"Curiosity."

"Remus."

Corielle mused, "The wolf-child. One of the twins in Italy whose grandfather was a god, and they were nursed by a she-wolf. And Lupin could be translated into Lupus, wolf in Latin, or literally Lupin, a flower, which I believe is poisonous and surprisingly used in the Wolfsbane Potion. Very interesting." She smiled sweetly before opening the door and stepping out of the office. She did not see the look of shock on Professor Lupin's face.

~888~

That night, precisely at curfew, Corielle stumbled into her dormitory. She had been tested practically in the more advanced levels of Transfiguration and Charms right after dinner, and to Professors Jenkin's and Shelton's surprise and delight, she had been able to do all but the most difficult of spells flawlessly. She had given them their essays, and they had both reacted more or less as Professor Lupin had. It was only as she fell onto her bed without even bothering to take off her clothes that she realized she had not given Professor Snape his vacation essays.

But she was too tired to knock on his office door to give them to him. The loss of energy from performing so many spells and the many memories that had plagued her throughout the day had totally exhausted her, and she drifted into an uneasy sleep.

~888~

A small figure walked next to the lake, a shocking silhouette against the bright rays of the moon. The lake was a near mirror, with little stirring made by the giant squid. In its reflection, the figure could see a man walking over the water. A Bubble-Foot Charm, how strange, she thought drowsily.

"Good evening, Professor," the man said, arriving at the shore where the figure stood.

"Good evening." They walked next to each other in silence for a few minutes. The tension between the two was palpable.

"Well," said the Professor finally, "I got you in."

"Yes," said the man. "And now, we want something else."

The Professor stopped in her tracks. Her face could not be seen, even in the moonlight, but the anguish in her voice was clear. "No, I told you, I'm not going to get involved."

The man grabbed the Professor's arm tightly. "I think you got yourself involved when you opened a mouse hole in the Apparition ward. You will obey. Now, I inquire about a certain young woman. In Slytherin, I believe..."