Lydia's Story

As Lydia disappeared through the trapdoor at the end of her free period, she couldn't help but feel a little bit disappointed. While she had learned some interesting things about the past Seers in her family, Trelawney had spent most of the time elaborating on how hard she had worked to find her information. They had ran out of time just as Trelawney had started on a story about Videnteen Meliflua, a Seer from the Dark Ages.

"I'll tell you more on your next visit," Trelawney had assured her.

Looking at her timetable, Lydia saw that she was free all the next afternoon. With a jolt, she also realized that she was almost late for Defence Against the Dark Arts. Running to get her books, she hurried to class as quickly as she could. She reached the doorway just as the bell announced the start of class.

"Miss Meliflua, you are late," Snape said with a smirk from the front of the class. "You will serve a detention with me tomorrow at lunch."

"I'm not late!" Lydia exclaimed indignantly, slightly out of breath from her run. "I'm here, aren't I? You can't give me a detention!"

Professor Snape's expression hardened, his eyes sharp. "It's not your place to tell me what I can and cannot do, Miss Meliflua. Fifty points from Gryffindor. Do you have any free periods tomorrow?"

Lydia nodded slowly, her blue eyes wide. He wouldn't...would he?

"Well then, you'll be spending those with me, too," Snape said, looking very pleased with himself. "Now sit down."

Moving to her seat at the edge of the class, Lydia determinedly kept her mouth shut. Inside, however, she was seething. Her mind played out many scenes of Snape's death, each more gruesome than the last. Smiling to herself, Lydia turned to the chapter on Shield Charms and began to read.

*~*~*~*~*

Harry watched Lydia over the pages of his book, smiling a bit to himself. She had a temper as bad as his.

"Harry, you're supposed to be reading!" Hermione hissed at him from behind the pages of her book. She gave him a stern look, and he started reading with a sigh.

Once the class had finished reading the assigned paragraphs, they once again divided into pairs for practising. This time, Harry left Ron and Hermione to work together, making his way to where Lydia stood alone.

"Want to work together?" he asked, coming up unnoticed from behind her. She jumped slightly, startled by his voice. Turning, she gave him a smile.

"Sure, I thought you'd never ask!" she replied, pulling her wand out of her pocket. They moved away from the desks, stopping in the first clear area they could find.

As they began practising, Harry quickly realized that Lydia was better than he had thought. He had wondered if her first performance against Snape was a fluke, but now he saw that it was skill.

"Wow, you're pretty good at this!" he said, his wand flying out of his hand from the disarming spell Lydia had reflected at him. "What did you get in your OWL?"

"They don't have a Defence Against the Dark Arts class at Durmstrang," Lydia answered, picking up Harry's wand and Repelling it towards him. "I was in a Duelling Club, though, and I did really well there. Do they have anything like that at Hogwarts?"

"Er - Well, kinda," Harry answered, readying himself for Lydia's spell. "There's going to a club starting up soon for students that want to learn extra defensive magic. Monday, actually. Do you want to join?"

"Sounds interesting," Lydia admitted. "I hope I can join. After all, not many people like me. Gusanpelo!" she added, giving her wand a sharp flick.

Harry reflected the spell easily, and this time Lydia allowed it to hit her. There were a few screams from surrounding students as Lydia's long black hair became a writhing mass of worms. Muttering a counter curse, Lydia returned her hair to normal and waited calmly for Harry's spell.

"Oh, that - er - shouldn't be a problem," Harry said, still staring at Lydia's hair. "By the way, how did you learn all those spells? Locomotor Mortis!"

"Dark Arts class," Lydia answered sourly, reflecting the spell silently in her distraction. "I hated that class so much. I learned the practical part well, but I never paid any attention to the theory or history behind it. I didn't want to know how many people the Dark Lord killed in this year or that year."

As the Leg-Locker Curse hit Harry, Harry felt himself fall over, barely noticing in his distraction. Did she just say - ?

"Did - Did you just call him the Dark Lord?" he sputtered, performing a counter curse on himself.

"Yeah, that's what all the teachers taught us," Lydia said calmly, helping Harry to his feet. "I called him Voldemort once, and my teacher almost Crucioed me on the spot. They were very strict about that."

At the sound of Voldemort's name, there were scattered reactions from the surrounding students. Once again, a few students screamed, while others just gasped or dropped their wands. Snape swept towards them, his eyes glinting dangerously.

"Miss Meliflua, you will not utter the Dark Lord's name in this class!" he spat, looking at her with an odd mix of emotions. "Another twenty points from Gryffindor."

Lydia scowled at him, but had no time to answer as the bell rang announcing the end of class. Harry felt for her, he knew what it was like to be on Snape's hate list.

"Come on, let's get going to the common room," he said quietly to her, trying to get her focus off of Snape. As Lydia turned to follow him, however, Snape clasped a hand over her shoulder.

"No, you go ahead, Potter," Snape said coolly, his black eyes on Lydia. "Miss Meliflua needs to stay behind to finish arranging her detentions."

Harry stood still for a moment, not wanting to leave Lydia behind to face Snape's wrath alone.

"Go, Potter!" Snape repeated, his voice louder. "Your little friends are waiting."

Looking towards the door, Harry indeed saw Ron and Hermione standing there, waiting for him. Hermione's eyes were watching Lydia, looking deeply distrustful. Sighing, Harry turned to leave.

"Talk to you later," he said softly, giving Lydia one last smile.

*~*~*~*~*

Steering Lydia over to his desk, Snape was very silent. Lydia didn't dare look up at him, and so had no way of reading his emotions. The atmosphere was tense as she waited for him to break the silence.

Reaching the desk, Snape gestured silently to a chair across from his and released Lydia's shoulder. Sitting down, Lydia watched him circle to the other side of the desk. He took his own seat, closing the door with a wave of his wand before facing Lydia.

"Miss Meliflua, what possessed you to say the Dark Lord's name in the middle of a crowded classroom?" he asked at last, his voice very quiet.

"Harry asked me why I called him the Dark Lord," she started defensively. "I just explained that if I called him...well, by his name...I would have been punished at Durmstrang."

Snape watched her unblinkingly. Lydia held his gaze, intent on showing that she had nothing to hide.

"I see," he said slowly, leaning back slightly in his seat. "So you routinely call him the Dark Lord?"

"Yes, that was only the second time I called him by his name."

The room once again lapsed into silence as Snape watched Lydia, his expression calculating. After some time he leaned forward across his desk, so that his face was just a foot away from Lydia's.

"Miss Meliflua, your skill with the Dark Arts is very impressive for someone of your age," he said quietly, his voice lacking it's usual sarcasm. "Have you been involved in...extra activities? Extra practise? Something that would even be guarded from...others in your league?"

Lydia stared at him, wondering if she was understanding him right. Unable to speak, she just shook her head slowly.

"Have you considered taking part in any such activities?" he continued to press in the same firm, quiet voice. "An outlet for your skills, perhaps? Don't worry. If you have been, there's no need to hide it from me. I'm the one you should be talking to."

Lydia felt the hairs on the back of her neck tingle as a chill ran down her spine. She had to be misunderstanding him...right?

"No, sir," she said quietly, her voice sounding very small. "I...it's...no thank you, sir."

Snape sat up straight in his seat, his eyes still watching her until he was content that she was telling the truth.

"Very good," he said shortly, pulling open a drawer and digging through it. "That is, of course, what I was hoping you would say." In spite of his calm words, Lydia couldn't help but notice that he seemed to have lost his smooth, easy flow. His movements were more rigid, jerky...agitated. Or was it just her imagination? "Now, about your detentions. Let me see your timetable, Miss Meliflua." Pulling a class schedule out of the drawer, he held out a hand, waiting impatiently as Lydia rummaged through her pockets. Finally pulling out the timetable, she dropped it in his outstretched hand.

"Now then, let me see..." he said, unfolding the timetable. He seemed to have recovered his composure, and his voice was cold once more. "You have free periods all afternoon. I have no classes then, so you will serve detentions then and at lunch. Be at my office within five minutes of the lunch bell. If you are late, you will receive more detentions. Is that clear?"

"Yes, sir," Lydia answered, barely absorbing anything that he had said. She was still reeling from everything he had said and implied earlier.

"Well then you may leave," he said, putting his own class schedule back into the desk.

Grabbing her books, Lydia hurried out of the room, her mind working in a frenzy.

*~*~*~*~*

Harry was standing in the Gryffindor common room with Ron when Lydia hurried in, her face flushed. Ron turned away, waiting silently for Hermione to come down from the girls' dormitory. Harry, trying to ignore Ron's stubborn behaviour, went straight to Lydia's side.

"Are you okay?" he asked, looking at her with concern. "He didn't do anything too horrible, did he?"

Lydia took a few deep breaths before answering, but her voice was still strained. "He...I don't know...he was...strange."

"How?" Harry asked, trying to sound reassuring. "I mean, he's always a git. That's nothing strange for him."

"No, it...it was..." Lydia's voice trailed off as her eyes fell on Ron, who was obviously listening closely even though his back was still turned. "Can I talk to you alone?" she finished softly.

"Er - Sure," Harry said, turning to look at Ron himself. "I'll meet you at dinner, okay?" he called to him. Ron answered with a stiff nod, but said nothing. Sighing, Harry led the way out of the portrait hole.

"Where did you want to go?" he asked Lydia once they were out.

"Outside, I guess," Lydia answered distractedly. "Can we hurry? Please?"

Nodding, Harry once again took the lead, this time going down to the Entrance Hall and out the large front doors. At Lydia's request, they went down to the lake and sat down on its shores.

"Okay, we're here. Now tell me, what's wrong?" Harry asked, looking closely at Lydia's distressed face.

Taking a few more deep breaths, Lydia lapsed into her story, telling Harry what Snape had said and how he acted. As Harry listened, his expression grew darker and darker. He had always distrusted Snape, and Lydia's words seemed to take his hatred to a level he never thought possible.

"A Death Eater," he said at last, his brow furrowed. Lydia gave a small nod.

"That's what I was thinking, too," she said quietly. "Oh, Harry...what do we do?"

Sighing, Harry leaned back on his elbows, his legs stretched out in front of him. "Telling Dumbledore's the only thing we can do," he said, not sounding entirely enthusiastic. "Maybe he'll listen, but our chances aren't great. I've tried to tell him before that I don't trust Snape, but he insists that Snape's on the good side."

"Snape will just say he was lying to trick me into talking," Lydia said miserably.

"Yeah, like I said: our chances aren't great. This isn't good news."

Glancing up at the school, Harry saw a lone figure hurrying across the grounds towards them. As he grew closer, Harry recognized the head of gleaming blond hair.

"Speaking of bad news," he said sourly, nodding towards Draco's growing figure.