The Necromancer Amulet

Author's Notes: Thanks so much to my two excellent beta readers Beulah Page (from perfectimagination.co.uk) and kitkatkitty7!!!

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Chapter Twenty-Four - The Leaving Feast

Secessa's students were highly strung all throughout the exam-period. The theoretical exams went quite well; she only had to deal with a few broken quills and a hysterical fourth year, which, according to Professor Sinistra, all teachers were exposed to now and then. The practical exams, on the other hand, turned out to be semi-lethal.

She had warned the youngsters that she would give them proper practicals, but for some reason it hadn't quite sunk in. The third-years were absolutely terrified, and three of them literally shivered with fear when she brought them all to a swamp in the Forbidden Forest loaded with nasty little creatures that they needed to fight one-to-one. Many of the fourth-years were so nervous that they failed to produce even the simplest counter-jinx when put to the test. And to her despair, she had to examine several of the first-years with several of her shields up due to their lack of magical control during stress. What the students had once known seemed to have vanished out the window before they even entered the exam room, and she began to wonder whether her teaching technique was suited for English children at all. However, her fifth-years all did well in their OWLs according their examiners, so she put her concerns down to cultural differences.

All her sixth-years passed their practical in the end. She let them all defend themselves against her in a duel, and they did surprisingly well (although Ronald Weasley caused mayhem in the classroom by deflecting spells onto just about everything breakable). Hence, she was quite relieved at the end of the week when everything was over, and she could start packing her things for Russia with a light heart.

She had only had time to pack a few choice books, however, when a smiling house-elf appeared with a small letter for her. Perplexed at the sight of the Headmaster's seal on it, she opened it and started reading, at which the elf vanished with a polite crack.

Dear Secessa,

You are kindly invited to attend at tonight's Leaving Feast for the seventh-years. The Feast, which provides an opportunity for the teachers and the finished students to mingle on a less formal basis, will take place on the grounds by the lake, and will start at 7 p.m. Formalwear is generally worn, but not required. I look forward to seeing you there.

Sincerely,

Albus Dumbledore

After having re-read the letter twice, she pondered for a while whether it seemed that she had any choice in the matter, and then realised it was unlikely; it would be seen as a slight if she didn't go. Pursing her lips, she started to rummage through her wardrobe for her dress-robes.

An hour later, Secessa stepped out of her quarters, feeling very uncomfortable in sleek, greyish-green dress-robes, which she had finally managed to make presentable using a Crease Removal Charm in combination with and Anti-Clinging charm, since she had bought them in haste and stored them in a pile. She hated dressing up; she had been forced to do it all the time as a child, and the excitement of wearing a nice fabric had vanished long ago. Now, she just dreaded the hours of polite, casual conversation. At least her dress did not itch.

She was walking down the stairs, pondering how to get away from the dinner as quickly as possible, when something caught her around the ankles and she abruptly fell. Reflexively, she grasped the rail with one hand, but she could not stop the fall and landed hard on her knees two steps down with her right foot twisted to the side. Exhaling sharply with the pain that flared up, she kept herself absolutely still, collecting herself and trying to assess the damage while holding the rail tightly.

Bloody Slytherins! she thought crossly as she examined her foot. Most likely, this was some sort of revenge for siding with the Gryffindors during the Duelling Classes, and she had to admit the cleverness of the set-up although it could have been a bit more imaginative. The bulk of the pain soon died away, but her ankle was still throbbing dangerously.

"Are you alright, there?" asked a small voice, and Secessa looked up to see Professor Winkle stand at the bottom of the stairs, dressed in robes of pale blue.

"I'm fine ... I fell ... tripped on the stairs." Secessa reddened at the thought of how dishevelled she must look.

The Muggle Studies teacher walked slowly up the stairs, clutching the rail tightly. "It must be an end-of year prank," she said shyly. "The school is filled with jinxes now; the students are finished, you know, so they can't get detention."

Secessa managed to lift herself up, and looked down at her dress; it had a long tear down at the front. "Oh, no," she said exasperatedly. They were her only dress-robes, and her Repairing Charms had never been good enough for fine work.

Winkle, who was now standing by her, had a look at the tear. "I can help you with that," she said quietly, "if you want me to, that is."

"That would be wonderful!"

The small woman brought out her wand, and gently tapped the robes. A tiny flash of yellow light travelled along the tear, and the garment was whole again. "I thought they might be from Madam Malkin's," she murmured. "They're usually self-mending."

"Thank you so much!" Secessa said earnestly. "I had no idea that could be done."

"Well, that sort of thing happens to me quite a lot," Winkle said, and blushed.

There was an awkward silence, and then she added hurriedly, "Anyway, I was on my way to my rooms - I left something." And with that, she gave Secessa a small, almost frightened, nod, and carefully walked down the stairs again, not looking back.

Secessa stared at her as she slipped around a corner, wondering briefly if Alicia Winkle was afraid of her, or just shy. Then, deciding that she would probably never find out, she turned her attention to her still hurting right foot. Withdrawing her wand, she tried to cast a Pain-Relieving Charm, but failed miserably. Evidently, she had already used up her Charms capabilities for the night. Well then, she thought irritably, I will have to do without. Carefully, she worked herself down the stairs and started limping towards the Main Entrance.

The gates were open, and a soft, hazy twilight was beginning to shroud the grounds. A path made out of fairy lights started at the bottom of the steps from the Main Gate, and she followed its circling progress towards the lake, the soft grass brushing against her feet. A scent of flowers lingered in the warm summer air, and as she came round to the south side of the castle, she saw that a large pavilion stood by the water surrounded by rose-bushes. Fairy lights were twinkling all around it, and most of the teachers and students were already chattering gaily, their speech echoing out over the lake's surface from where they sat along four large tables adorned in House colours.

Suddenly, one of the fairy lights flew out over the water, and a huge tentacle immediately protruded the blank surface, catching the fairy, large ripples travelling in its wake. This was followed by scattered applause from the pavilion. Secessa stood and watched the crowd from a distance for a while, and then continued downwards. The lake was again placid, and its surface reflected the clouds of red and gold that lined the horizon.

No one noticed her as she arrived at the busy party-tent, and she quietly took a place at the Slytherin table, relieved to rest her foot, which felt like it was swelling. Professor Sinistra had seated herself a few chairs down, and greeted her briefly before returning to a conversation with a Slytherin girl. Secessa was not surprised that none of the younger people spoke to her; although the Slytherins never had harboured any real animosity towards her, they didn't particularly like her either.

Further down the table, Snape sat watching his plate broodingly, and Secessa wondered if he, too, couldn't wait to get away from the torture of spending time in the company of mildly inebriated adolescents. Suddenly he looked up, his dark gaze locking with hers, and she quickly looked away, embarrassed for being caught staring at him.

She was one of the last to arrive, and soon, Dumbledore magicked food onto their plates and cheerfully told them to start. Professor McGonagall, only recently out of St. Mungo's, sat pale-faced further down the Gryffindor table, but she smiled stout-heartedly at the Gryffindors seated next to her, as if challenging anyone who had any worries about her health. Secessa watched her thoughtfully for a while, and then turned her attention to her plate.

The food gave of an enticing aroma, and Secessa attacked the meat with relish, listening to the conversations around her. The rather loud students seated at her end of the Slytherin table had played on the Quidditch team (even though they seemed built for hand-to-hand combat rather than swift flight), and hence, that was what the dinner discussion inevitably ended up revolving around. She noticed dryly that, if the conversation ever swayed away from the topics of sports, it concerned the amazing future prospects they all had. Montague, who was seated to her left, was planning on joining a Quidditch team, and spoke loudly about taking over the management of the family estate in a couple of years' time. He gave her a couple of rather leering looks as well, and she was not sure whether to be amused or shocked.

The dinner was murderously slow, and they finally finished their puddings just as it was approaching the unbearable. On the chair opposite Secessa, Bletchey was grinning unpleasantly towards her as he, prompted by two large glasses of wine, boasted to the whole table about a career at the Ministry for Magic. And as the meal finally approached its end, the cheeky bugger started sending glances at the outline of her breasts. Feeling appropriately scandalised, she shot him an icy look, which had no effect whatsoever; he was obviously more than a bit drunk. Well, no rules for you means no rules for me, she thought acidly and slowly removed her wand from her robes pocket as she tried to look fascinated by his explanation of the 'complex issues one might face within politics'. As Dumbledore rose to declare the dinner ended, she flicked away a Colitis Hex at the former Quidditch Keeper underneath the table, and watched him amusedly for a couple of minutes as he seemed to grow increasingly uncomfortable.

Then, when everybody rose, he suddenly made a run for it, sprinting unevenly across the lawn towards the castle as if chased by Hell-hounds.

"Whatever happened to him?" asked Montague in a mildly interested voice as he rather elaborately helped her with her chair.

"No idea," she replied lightly, and pocketed her wand. "Look, it was really pleasant to speak to you, but now I really must -"

But she did not finish her sentence, as the sound of musicians playing suddenly drew her attention away. Turning towards the source of the sound, she saw a musical quintet sitting at a dancing platform lit up by fairy lights, not far from the pavilion. Several couples were already on the way there; Dumbledore was cheerfully leading an embarrassed-looking Gryffindor girl up onto the platform, and Professor Winkle followed soon accompanied by a blushing Hufflepuff boy.

"Would you like to dance?" asked Montague smoothly, and she looked around in panic. Further down the table, Snape's seat was empty; if she knew him correctly, he'd be far away by now. The lucky bastard, she thought with feeling, and then she realised that Hagrid had risen from the Gryffindor table and was moving towards her with a beaming smile. Choosing between him and her student was like choosing between plague and cholera. However, she was not about to admit that she had fallen due to a Slytherin Trip-Jinx, neither would she risk a half-giant stepping on her feet.

"Fine," she told Montague between clenched teeth. "One dance. Lead the way." He looked savagely pleased, and she cast Hagrid a fabricated apologetic glance as the student took her arm and led her away.

Well up on the platform, Montague smugly put an intrusive hand on her waist, and she did not need to take more than a few steps to realise that his dancing technique, although superb, was forceful rather than agile. In fact, she had to focus very hard to keep her now very swollen and aching right foot away from his, as he seemed to prefer swirling about with his feet dangerously close to hers, drawling about Quidditch in the most dull way imaginable. To add to her misery, the tune that was played was very long, and Montague seemed determined to both pull her closer (which she resisted firmly) and go through a series of turns that made her dizzy. The irony that she had not danced with such a skilled dancer in ages was not lost on her.

She was beginning to lose hope that the music would finish at all, when her suffering ended abruptly.

"I need a word with Professor Laburova," said a cool voice suddenly from behind her. "You don't mind, do you, Montague?"

Her dance partner stopped in the middle of a turning, his hands abandoning her, and she partially lost her balance. A claw-like hand grasped her arm immediately, steadying her, at the same time as Montague looked very nervous, and said, "No, Sir."

Snape's hold on her was quite hard, and she stumbled as he almost dragged her down the steps of the platform.

"Getting sloshed in the company of young men, are we?" he asked softly. "I dare say that's a little bit inappropriate."

"For your information, I'm not 'sloshed'," she said through gritted teeth. "Your precious Slytherins set up a Trip Jinx for me outside my quarters and my right foot feels like a piece of mincemeat now, but otherwise I'm fine, thanks for asking! I knew I shouldn't have gone to this bloody dinner!"

"If you were indisposed, why did you agree to dance with him?" he asked with marked disinterest, and immediately continued, "The Auror on duty found something that you need to see."

"Oh!" And to think she had thought he had acted the gentleman, rescuing her from an uncomfortable situation! She blushed, and tried to focus on walking, realising that he had not let go of her arm. Strange, she pondered as she hobbled along beside him; he hardly ever touches me! Her arm was tingling where he was holding it, and she also had a strange sensation in her abdomen. What is happening to me, she wondered in alarm, and why am I all of a sudden so affected by his touch? After all, he isn't exactly what you would call a catch; in fact, any sane woman would stay the hell...

"Professor Laburova?"

They had reached the edge of the forest, where a young Auror stood, holding something in his hands.

"Oh no," she whispered as she recognised what it was.

Snape let go of her and the Auror put the small, limp fruit bat into her hands. "I'm sorry," he said quietly, gave her an apologetic look, and walked away.

She looked down at the bat, and then back at Snape, who seemed tense.

"Did it carry a message?" he asked.

"No, I just let it out for some exercise." As she was rapidly becoming teary-eyed, she looked away and bit her lip.

"I suppose you realise what this means?"

She nodded. "Someone here knows more than they ought," she said brokenly. With a tap of her wand, she sent the dead bat down into the ground, a small mound popping up over it, spurting some damp soil on her robes. "Damn!" she said in combined frustration over her dirty robes, her bat and her aching foot. Looking at the mound, she sighed. "At least it wasn't Odin."

"Your bird?"

"Yes." Slowly wiping her hands on her already mud-stained robes, she glanced up at Snape, who looked ponderously into the forest with sharp eyes. "Then I'd be really angry," she muttered.

There was a pause, but Snape seemed too lost in thought to grasp the opportunity to leave.

"How bad is your foot? I could investigate into this," he offered suddenly, and she was surprised by his sudden politeness.

"Better, since I'm not putting pressure on it, so don't bother. There will be no more dancing for me tonight, though. Do you think it would be awfully rude of me to leave the Feast?"

"Not at all," he said decisively with the manner of one whom had long experience in the matter.

"I'll do that then," she said, and slowly started to limp towards the Main Gate. After a few yards, Snape caught up with her.

"This is absurd," he murmured, and grabbed her arm again, supporting her. "You should go to the Hospital Wing."

"Because of a foot-ache? Don't be ridiculous."

"Very well, I'll help you to your room."

"Thank you," she said, and gave him a little smile. For a second, he just stared at her, and then he looked away.

"Don't mention it," he muttered, almost inaudibly.

"So," she inquired half-way to the gate, as the silence between them was beginning to feel awkward, "are you staying here for the summer?"

"In periods," he mumbled.

"Working?"

"Mostly."

Great conversation, she thought dryly as she silence fell on them once more.

"I heard you're leaving tomorrow," said Snape after a while. It was obvious that he found the sentence laborious.

"Yes; to my family home, on the Kola Peninsula." Why are we speaking like this? Ludicrous! Irritated, she lost track of where she put her feet, and stumbled on a tuft of grass.

Snape snapped, "Oh, for crying out loud!" and immediately reached out for her other arm, counteracting her fall with a sharp jerk that brought her up close. Suddenly, she was in very close proximity to him, staring straight into his face, partly covered by curtains of black hair. His cloak gave off a rich, well-worn kind of scent that was strangely lulling, and she inhaled sharply with the burst of a sudden tingle in her abdomen. Looking agitated, he quickly let go.

"I ... feel much better," she stammered, confused and embarrassed over the way she was reacting. "I'll manage fine from here. Thank you."

He nodded briefly, his expression quickly turning unfathomable; then he strode off towards the forest, his long, black cloak billowing out behind him.

Blushing, she watched him for a moment, and then she limped the remaining distance to the Main Gate.

This really is enormously silly of me, she thought as she opened one of the oak doors and entered the castle. I'm acting like a girl with a crush. It's lucky I'm going away; these problems are best sorted by pondering them over at a distance.

Hopefully, he hadn't noticed too much of her foolishness.

Feeling very irritated with herself, she continued to limp the cumbersome way back to her rooms.

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Author notes: Thanks for reading and please review (I'm curius to know what you think of the romance part)!!!