Smiles That Shine Through Tears

Chapter 4

New places, new people

My bag was packed and Cleo mewing plaintively from inside her carrier when Severus arrived the next morning. An old lady glanced malevolently at us as we crossed the street outside the house.

"Severus, people are staring." It was true, a passing boy glowered as if we had no right to be there. I looked up at Severus Snape, realizing that they thought we were a couple. He wasn't that bad looking surely, just old enough to be my Dad.

"Never mind them, hold my hands."

I placed the cat carrier between my knees and obediently placed my hands in each of his larger ones. Crookshanks' string was tethered to my wrist.

"Hold firm."

Again there was a noise like a whip cracking - the same noise that had alerted me the first time Severus came to speak to Hermione, back in January. The temperature dropped several degrees while everything was black, and when I opened my eyes I was standing in a cobbled street in a village that was surrounded by mountains in every direction except one. The nearby lake was dwarfed by the castle and forest on its far side.

"We will walk to the school from here," said Severus, dropping my hands and picking up Cleo's carrier.

"That's Hermione's old school?" I asked as we turned towards the castle.

"Yes, that's Hogwarts."

I looked curiously around as we skirted the edge of the lake. The few people we'd seen were dressed in flowing robes and cloaks, similar to Snape's but in all colours of the rainbow. Some of them wore hats, tall pointed hats like you would see in a child's story book or at a fancy dress party.

In the grounds students walked in the sun, the younger ones playing tag. We passed a group throwing a Frisbee - but as I got closer I saw that the Frisbee had teeth and appeared to be equipped with a homing device. Severus snapped his fingers and the Frisbee flew into his hands.

"Ten points from Hufflepuff, Stottson. I'll be adding this to your collection in Filch's office."

"The houses were named after the four founders of the school," he explained as we walked towards the main entrance. 'Salazar Slytherin, Rowena Ravenclaw, Godric Gryffindor and Helga Hufflepuff. The students are sorted according to their attributes into the most appropriate house when they begin their schooling here."

"How do you sort them? Do they have to take a test?"

"Professor Dumbledore may tell you shortly. I expect he will want to explain a few things to you."

The Frisbee in his hand was grinding its teeth and squirming.

* * * *

The doors opened into a large, high ceilinged hall. Students laughed and chatted on the staircases above, laden with books and bags as they headed for their next class. Severus summoned a lady who floated along with her feet well off the ground.

"Inform my class at dungeon number two that I will be a few minutes late, please Griselda."

She turned and floated away, her skin and dress a translucent white as she followed a group of students through a door to the left of the Hall.

"Is that a ghost?"

"The Lady Griselda Amelia Forsyth. Died two hundred and thirty years ago this week." He raised his voice to speak to an old, hunched man who stood at the foot of the main stairs with a mop. The man accepted the Frisbee with ill-grace, as if he thought it would bite him, and shuffled away, leaving the mop leaning against the stairs.

"I'm taking you to Professor Dumbledore's office. He will arrange somewhere for you to stay until you can return home."

Crookshanks was looking around, trying to pull away and explore the castle. I picked him up as Severus stopped in front of a stone head mounted on the wall in an otherwise empty corridor two floors up. The statue and it's mounting slid aside as we approached, revealing a doorway with a spiral staircase beyond. Severus indicated that I should go first. I was a little startled when he stepped on the staircase behind me and it started moving up, like an escalator but much faster. Just before the top it slowed down so that we were barely moving.

"Severus, Jane, come in," a pleasant voice said. It quavered slightly with the faint whine of old age, just enough to forewarn me before I saw him. Professor Dumbledore was sitting behind his desk, looking over his glasses at us. He was a tall man, with flowing white hair and beard, but so old that barely an inch of his face was unwrinkled, and the skin was tight over the back of his hands with the characteristic brown spots that appear with the years. He looked at least a hundred years old, not at all what I had imagined from hearing the others talk about him.

"I have a written report from Potter and Weasley, the Weasley's are returning to the Burrow today. As I suggested yesterday, I have brought Jane. She claims the school's protection until such time as she can return home."

"Thank you Severus, I suspect your class is waiting." The room was obviously part of a tower because it was completely round. I got a glimpse of other towers through the windows. The desk and shelves were cluttered with little instruments, some of them similar to the trinkets I'd seen lying on top of Hermione's trunk the previous day, one little table disappeared every few seconds in a wreath of smoke as the instruments ticked and whirred. The door clicking behind Severus drew my attention back to Professor Dumbledore.

"Take a seat, please," he said. I did so. "You are probably much confused about the events of the last few days," he continued. "I am deeply sorry that you have been so rudely endangered through association with us."

"Do you know where Hermione is?" I asked. "When will she be back?"

"Hermione is working hard in Armenia and will be there for a few more days, but she is not in any immediate danger. We have already informed her that you are with us. It would, perhaps have been preferable for you to return to your parents, but Professor Snape told me you would not be welcome there."

"My Mum is very busy. It might have been awkward - but I never said anything to Severus about it."

"Then Hermione probably did."

"Hermione's parents have been good to me, would you prefer that I went to them if I can't go home?"

"No Jane, we have wizards watching the Granger's house in case of any problems. Your presence would quickly alert our enemy to them. I am going to put you in a dorm in one of our houses, where the students can show you round. They are eleven year old girls, but I'm sure you will get on very well, I understand you work with children."

I nodded.

"Don't let Professor Snape give you a bad image of Hufflepuff. They are kind people and will welcome you. I fear some of our students may find it more difficult to adjust to you than you do accepting them."

The door behind me slid open as he finished saying this.

"Thank you, Susan," he said, as a tall girl with dark plaits turned and left, the younger girl that had accompanied her looking around in awe. "Emmeline, this is Jane. She is going to be staying with you for a little while.

"Jane," he said, turning back to me. "We do have a few school rules. You may go where you like during the hours of daylight, except for the forbidden forest. After dark we prefer students to keep to their own houses. Each house has a comfortable common room to relax in. You will be sharing a dorm with Emmeline and another three girls, who will answer any other questions you have." The door slid open again as he dismissed us. Emmeline's eyes were wide.

"Isn't that the most wonderful place? I've never seen inside Dumbledore's office before. Was that a sneakoscope on the desk?"

"I wouldn't know," I replied. Emmeline was only a head shorter than I, but very young, with a rather round face and long brown hair. I was almost running to keep up as she led me back down the stairs into the main entrance hall. At the bottom we turned sharply left, and down another short flight of stairs, past classrooms and offices. The paintings on the wall stared as we walked by, which I found quite unnerving.

"Here we are," said Emmeline. The sun streamed through a high window, bathing the lush greenery below with warm yellow rays. "You have to walk round the coconut palm and duck under the cycad. The password is Melissa officinalis."

"Lemon balm?" I said, as the floor slid open, revealing another flight of steps.

"We're underground here," said Emmeline, as the steps opened into a large, low-roofed room. Tables, sofas and armchairs were scattered almost randomly, as if the students moved them wherever was most convenient whenever they wanted. I noticed a cork notice-board at the far end of the room and a low shelf holding playing cards, board games and a few books. Emmeline led me to the left hand set of two adjacent flights of stairs.

"First year girls' dorm is the first door up here. I'd better get back to class now; I'll come and get you at lunch-time. Will you be alright here?"

"Yeah, no problem. Thanks, Emmeline."

She turned and ran back up the stairs to the little corridor oasis. I looked around. The dorm was a pleasant little room, at ground level and looking across to a group of green-houses and the lake beyond. It was obvious which bed was free, it was made up neatly whereas the others were crumpled and the floor near each bed was strewn with discarded clothes and books. I let Crookshanks and Cleo go and took a half-finished macramé belt out of my work basket before heading back down to the empty common room. Cleo chased the ends of the thread as I corded the strands, to my relief. I'd been worried about letting either of them loose in such a huge place.

An hour later the trapdoor at the top of the stairs opened and three teenage boys dashed in, talking non-stop. The raced to their dormitory and out again, minus the heavy bags they'd been carrying. They were the first of many. A few students stopped abruptly and said hello when they saw me. Finally a group of small girls walked down the stairs, Emmeline at their back. She smiled and nodded to me before dragging her bag up to the dorm.

"Come and have some lunch, then I'll show you around a bit. This is..." She named Sophie, a tiny blond girl, Renate, dark-skinned with floppy black hair and a wide grin, Helena, blue-eyed with long dark brown plaits and a determined set to her chin and shoulders.

"How old are you?" demanded Helena.

"About twice as old as you," I replied, laughing at their shocked expressions.

"Really? We thought you must have been in sixth or seventh year. Are you married?"

They asked questions and told me about the portraits and the school all the way back to the main Entrance Hall. I was enjoying myself, feeling as though I was their age again and could do anything, anything at all.

"I didn't know I was a witch until I got the letter to come here," Emmeline was saying. "There's a few of us like that, but we learn just as quick as the others. The Ministry of Magic don't like children using wands before they're eleven."

"Renate's the best in our class," said Helena. "She was brought up in the islands."

"The Hebrides? No - sorry, that was a silly answer. You're Polynesian, aren't you?"

Renate grinned wider. "They put that coconut palm there for me."

"This is the Great Hall," said Emmeline. It was great alright; the huge room was filled with tables and students. I saw Severus already at the long, elevated table, and Professor Dumbledore seated near the centre. The girls walked past the first two tables, seating themselves among some of the other students I'd seen in the common room.

"It's not really the sky," said Emmeline, noticing that I was looking up at the clouds and a watery sun. "Just enchanted to look like it." She passed me a plate of rolls.

"What classes have you had this morning?" I asked, helping myself to butter and jam.

"Broomstick Handling & Maintenance and Charms," said Renate. Sophie didn't seem to speak much. "Potions next, worse luck. Snape hates Hufflepuffs."

"Does he?"

"He's horrible," said Emmeline. "Sophie was in tears last Monday because he vanished her potion when it was only half-finished. Told her she was a waste of space."

"I'm sure he didn't mean that..." I began.

"He always favours his own house," said Helena. "Takes points off us every chance he gets."

I looked across at Severus. He was talking to the professor next to him, nodding seriously. He looked pretty much as he always did.

"His face would probably crack if he smiled," said Renate.

"Have you finished?" asked Emmeline. "I want to show you the library, and some of these stairs you've got to watch out for. We can go and look at the grounds before dinner."

We ran up several flights of stairs to reach the library, clinging to the banisters as one of the staircases suddenly decided to swing round.

"They're a pain, these stairs," said Emmeline. "It took me ages to find my way around when I first got here because they kept moving." She looked at the paintings on the landing. "We're two corridors away now."

"See, the people in the paintings move around but the landscapes themselves and the frames don't," Renate whispered to me. "Peeves caused a horrible fuss a few years ago by swapping paintings around. It turned out about 90% of the students and teachers use the paintings to navigate and about 10% use their feet - or some innate sense of direction."

"Who's Peeves?" I asked.

"The poltergeist. Hopefully you won't meet him; he's almost as horrible as Filch."

The library was stacked from floor to roof with shelves of books. About half a dozen students studied underneath the shelves, and a smiling woman sat behind the desk in the corner, reading and checking out the student's books. Emmeline tried to tell me where to find things, but I kept getting distracted by the titles of the books and the pictures on the spines.

"Here," Emmeline whispered, putting her hand up to a blank space on a high shelf. She withdrew her hand and handed me a solid little package. I held it and turned the pages.

"What, exactly, is the use of a book you can't read?" I asked, trying to see the book that I could feel was quite definitely in my hands.

"Worth it to see your face," she said, giggling. "When I handed you it! That's 'The Invisible book of Invisibility', and I've no idea how I'm going to get it back there without pushing the others off the shelf, there's about ten copies there."

I put my hand up, feeling for the gap between the books and slid the one in my hand back there, probably upside down.

"How would the librarian know if you took it without checking it out?" I asked.

"There's a charm on the book - it would squeal on the way out of the door if she didn't remove it. Though I don't know if they've even put the charm on those ones, beats me how they ever shelved them, or who would take them out."

"Can I come to Potions with you?" I asked.

"Double Potions! Are you crazy? You can go in my place if you like," said Renate.

"He'd set today's potion in the exam out of spite if you did that," said Helena.

"I'd like to see the monster who teaches you," I explained. "Because he looks an awful lot like this guy I know who just loves whipped icecream with strawberry jam and warm toffee."

"I'll loan you some robes," Helena said. "Then you won't stick out so much."

We ran back to the dormitory, laughing and giggling. I firmly decided I wanted to be eleven again. Last time I was eleven was nothing like this, with Mum criticizing my every move and my younger sisters to watch over.

The school uniform Helena handed me was warm and heavy.

"On second thoughts," said Renate as I struggled to make the front buttons do up. "HURIA!" A larger version of Renate looked in at the door.

"Can we borrow your spare robes, Huria."

"Sure." Huria was back in an instant with what seemed like a vast quantity of black material.

"Now that's better," said Emmeline once I had them on. "Snape might have been put off his teaching by all that leg you were showing before."

"As if!" snorted Helena.

"Stick with us," said Emmeline. "He might not even realise you're here."

"Uh - he knows I'm here," I said. "He brought me here." Sophie looked at me with an expression of mixed fear and dislike.

* * * *

Dungeon number two was a large cold room with rows of solid wooden benches. I took a seat between Helena and Renate, looking around at the other students. Most of them I didn't recognise at all, and Renate explained that they were Ravenclaw first years. In front of us on the desk were an empty cauldron and a selection of knives, sieves and a bowl and grinder.

The chattering ceased as Severus swept in, each face turned forward. He's certainly got this class in thrall. He strode to the front bench, leaning over a chart on his desk.

"Today you will make a surfactant potion. Can any-one tell me what a surfactant potion is used for?"

One girl raised her hand timidly.

"Any-one else?" He looked around. "As usual, not one of you looked at your books before class." His eyes met mine, registering some surprise, before he turned back to the girl, still with her hand up.

"Miss Stubbins?"

"Professor, surfactant potion is used on liquid to increase the surface tension and seal the oxygen supply from a body of water. It results in..."

"Enough! Thankyou Miss Stubbins. Surfactant potion increases the weight bearing capacity of liquid - in other words, if you wished you would be able to float an axe head on water. However, I very much doubt that any of you can follow instructions well enough to produce that effect. Stay in your pairs, the recipe is on the board. Watch each step carefully as I perform it, before carrying it out. Jane. Watch, don't touch anything."

I nodded.

His voice was low and penetrating as he performed each step, precisely measuring and adding strange ingredients. The girls tried hard, whispering to each other as they tried to remember the exact amount and timing. In front of us two boys were edging warily away from a cauldron that belched thick black smoke.

"Hendrick, clear that potion," Professor Snape snapped. The boy gulped, and waved his wand. Sparks flew into the air, landing in the cauldron, which promptly boiled over. Severus lifted his own wand and pointed it at their desk with a swift movement. The potion vanished, except for the large quantities sticking like hot tar to the boys' skin. They grimaced in pain, looking at the professor with black, streaked faces.

"Ten points from Hufflepuff for failing to follow directions."

"Professor?" Miss Stubbins had her hand in the air again. "Shouldn't they go to the Hospital Wing; I think that was an indelible burning potion."

"When I want your help, I'll ask for it Miss Stubbins. Stay right there, Hendrick. I'll arrange your detention after class."

Renate and Helena looked furious. "He's a beast," Helena whispered, her head down so that Severus couldn't see her lips moving.

"Two ounces of newts eyes, girls," I whispered. They jumped, realising that they'd forgotten to time how long their mix had been simmering for.

"Thanks, Jane." I moved to push the next ingredient across, but Renate pushed my hand back. "He said don't touch anything. Some of this stuff is dangerous to non-magical people."

"Is she a squib?" Helena whispered.

"Yeah, Emmeline told me. It's alright; I don't think any-one else knows."

Hendrick's partner rolled onto the floor in a faint. I glanced at Severus, horrified that he didn't seem to care. He had his head down, carefully ruffling a sheet of bark into a fan before stirring the potion twelve times clockwise, eighteen anti-clockwise with it. The boy was still breathing."

"Anti-clockwise now," I whispered. "That's enough." A blue haze was shimmering over the cauldron. I looked over at the other two. Sophie's brow was furrowed as she stirred the potion - I wanted to tell her that her fan of bark was being held at completely the wrong angle and not brushing the cauldron sides, but realised that they would have to learn for themselves.

"Scatter over the ground aquilegia seeds and simmer for twelve minutes," Severus instructed, leaving the stand to check his pupils' cauldrons.

"Light and easy girls," I said. "One grain at a time is better than a clump all landing in one place."

"How do you know?" Helena asked.

"It's not so different to making porridge," I shrugged. "No-one throws a handful of oatmeal in like you were just about to if they're making porridge, unless they want to eat lumps." The blue haze had turned a steely grey.

"Well, well, top marks girls," said Severus. "I'm glad to see you've been paying attention." He stepped over the boy on the floor and leaned over the cauldron of the boys immediately in front of them.

"What would you expect to happen if you put this on water, Johnson?" Severus asked, wrinkling his nose in distaste.

"Er, would it sink?"

"It most certainly would." Severus used a little metal spoon to scoop out a drop and dropped it on the floor. The drop melted, leaving a miniscule hole where it had been before. "Measure," he instructed, handing the boy a long thin rod. I watched as Johnson lowered the rod over the hole, then through until he was holding his hand directly on the floor. He drew the rod back up.

"I didn't ask you to make a gravity potion," said Severus, mending the floor. "Why didn't you stir it twelve times clockwise as you were asked? Another zero." He vanished the contents of the cauldron with a flick of his wand.

* * * *

"I'll catch up with you later," I said as the girls packed up. I wanted to talk to Severus - Professor Snape. He was wiping down the axe head that he'd floated on the surface of a full basin of water, but after watching the way he taught, I wasn't as impressed by the trick as I probably should have been.

"Enervate." The two boys sat up, groaning and clutching their skin where the potion had burned them.

"Report to Filch, 9 o clock tomorrow night, both of you. And let that be a lesson to you about paying attention in class. You may go."

The boys quickly packed their ingredients into their bags and left.

"I should have known you would be able to hold your own in Potions," he said, before I could open my mouth. "That's the first time either of those girls have achieved more than 30%.

"Severus, why...?"

"My teaching methods have been criticised for more than twenty years. I taught each of your friends for seven years straight - every one of them can make advanced potions in a safe manner. Potions is an exacting science, Jane. It's not like cooking, where a mistake still results in an edible dish. You have seen for yourself - carelessness is very dangerous, even with the simplest of potions like the one we made today.

"Every year a new batch of students arrives in my classroom believing that they can do anything just by waving a wand. Some of them take three years before they can safely make a simple potion, some of them take seven. If I were to allow for the least lapse in discipline, they would go through life believing that sloppiness was alright. I feel that our hospitals already have enough work - and I already have enough work preparing antidotes for potions gone wrong."

He had finished packing up, and turned to walk out.

"Incidentally," he said, "I had to prevent Miss Stubbins from showing off her superior knowledge because the school board has decided that the little ones don't need to know everything about the potions they make. Floating an axe on water," he snorted, "That sort of thing can be useful - if you're keen on boats. The potion is much more normally used to rapidly decimate every living organism in a body of water and leave it stinking with harmful anaerobic bacteria and algae."

I couldn't think of anything to say to that. He stopped to put some books in a small room as we passed. "My office," he explained. I felt I should probably turn back towards the Hufflepuff common room when we reached the Entrance Hall, but he didn't seem to mind me being there.

"Can I make potions?" I asked. "I mean Emmeline has explained that I probably can't use a wand, but potions are different."

"You can't learn it Jane. There are only a few potions that don't rely on magical ingredients, or the power of the person who makes them. Magic is innate, you either have it or you don't. Having said that..." Severus scowled at a small boy, who slinked past, looking terrified.

"Severus, he's just a child. How can you treat them like that?"

"Nearly every student arrives here with their head full of their own self-worth, arrogant to a fault and totally unteachable. Pussy-footing around them doesn't do any good. Admittedly adults are even worse. Teaching new skills to an adult is almost impossible. They think they already know it all."

"What sort of a person would you like to teach?"

"An ideal student...," he mused, "would be eager, intelligent, sternly brought up. Hermione could have gone far in Potions, and Miss Stubbins is another of the same ilk, but they are both infuriatingly forward, keen to show off what they know at every opportunity. Hermione's inflated ego and disregard for every rule designed to keep students safe nearly killed her several times. If there is one thing I hate, it's rescuing children from messes they got themselves into."

"You've never had a student like that?"

"I wouldn't say never. Perhaps once or twice."

"Do you still not like Hermione?"

"I didn't say I didn't like her. Hermione is invaluable to us in the Order and has helped me several times at the school - she's one of the best potion makers of her generation. I can't say as much of her sidekicks." He looked at his watch. "I need to speak to Penelope at the hospital wing. It's a pity you're not home, I would be tempted to head south in time for a four o clock snack."

"Is that why you come? And to think I thought you only turned up to impart vitally important information."

He smirked. "I've uh - a little confession to make." He clasped his hand round a gold pendant he'd drawn from his pocket. "I have to adjust time a little to make it. Most days classes don't finish till four."

He knocked on the double doors and spoke to a woman in starched uniform and a nurses' cap.

"They'll be alright, Professor Snape, but you should really have sent them up as soon as it happened," she was saying. She looked about thirty.

"Never mind that, I need a list of all the potions you're low on. There's no point in asking me for something you've already run out of."

"Of course, Professor." She disappeared.

"Went out with a Weasley when she was at school," he imparted to me when she was gone. "Foolish girl."

"Which one?" I asked. I'd only met Ron and Ginny and she looked considerably older than either of them.

"Percy. He still works at the Ministry, never the most reliable young man. Idealistic, you know, bad trait."

The matron was back with a short list. I looked at Severus, imagining him as a young man - hard, but not impossible. He just seemed to me as though he would have been very idealistic. And if so then, why not now? I wondered. What happened to change him? For realism is a bitter pill and many swallow it who would rather not.

"Thankyou, Penelope." The scar removing potion takes two months to make, the skelegro, four. The others you should have by the end of the week."

"What is that drink you gave us?" he asked as we walked away. "You know, the effervanescent one with the sweet frozen cream."

"Soda and icecream. You must have kitchens here, may I see them?"

We turned into the corridor leading back to the Hufflepuff common room, but turned the other way. Severus stopped below a picture of a fruit bowl and tickled it until it giggled.

"Dumbledore's idea - but useful to know. A small number of students have figured it out, it apparently passes down the generations by word of mouth."

Inside steam rose from several cooking fires, and the strong yeasty smell of rising bread was sharp in the air.

"Are they brewing something?" Severus asked, wrinkling his nose up.

"It's just the bread." I wandered round, gazing at the pastry boards and trays and knifes - implements I would have in the kitchen of my dreams.

"Can I help you miss?" A little creature with large ears and a squashed tomato nose was looking up at me. I bent down to speak to her - I was sure it was a female.

"Could you bring me...?" I listed a few things that would go well in a rather tasty salad.

"Certainly miss. How would you like it made up?"

"Oh, I shall make it up. May I use this little table here?" I looked at Severus. "They're certainly very obliging."

"They're house-elves. It's in their nature."

"Those are elves? I never imagined - I mean, it's not quite Lord of the Rings." He looked blank, and just then two of the little creatures arrived with their arms full.

"Oh, thank you," I said. "Oh this is just as fresh as can be, look at the way the cheese crumbles!" Severus smiled, watching.

"Of course you can watch," I said to the house elves, who were still clustering round. "And may I have some flour, baking soda and a little oatmeal." They hastened to bring it, and I formed dough and set it over a fire while I prepared the salad. Severus watched as keenly as the house elves as I laid out slices of salami on a platter with crumbled soft cheese, lettuce, sliced red capsicum, grated carrot and a couple of large juicy pears, cubed. By then the bread was ready and I sliced the flat loaf through the centre, breaking it into pieces to spread with butter that melted rapidly into the surface. The elves brought us a couple of glasses and a jug of pumpkin juice as we sat on high stools and ate.

* * * *

"You're here Jane; we thought you'd got lost! Aren't you hungry?"

"No, I've had plenty to eat," I said, sitting beside Emmeline and picking my half-finished belt up from the shelf. It was already quite dark outside, and despite not having done much that day I felt more than ready for bed. Cleo rubbed her cheek against her knee and I smiled at the memory of Severus' expression when I encouraged him to eat toast with butter, wild heather honey and new season strawberries. The elves had laughed too, and one of them daringly offered him a cup of pure lemon juice to help him restore his normal appearance. That was just before we left. The elves had shown me how they cooked, and then placed the dishes on the long tables immediately below the Great Hall to be transported upwards. We walked into the store-rooms, looking at the sacks of flour and sugar and dried fruit - and the big pile of pumpkins from behind the game-keeper's hut. One of the elves solemnly swore that they were picked fresh every morning for the children's pumpkin juice, and looked away when I asked him what they did out of season.

I told them how I made coconut and jam cake, and some of the variations of the basic pan bread I sometimes used, trying not to notice the little elf taking notes in the corner. Between our snack, and sampling dried fruit and little bits and pieces that the elves asked my 'honoured opinion' on, neither of us felt like returning to the Great Hall for dinner.

When we finally emerged a professor I didn't know accosted Severus as we passed the stairs, claiming he'd been searching the castle for hours. Severus asked him to wait a few minutes, and walked with me to the little group of plants, waiting till I descended through the trapdoor before turning back to meet his colleague.

And just how much of this am I going to tell my new friends? I wondered. The little group was sitting with schoolbooks and parchment on each girl's lap, taking notes with feather quills that scratched sharply against the paper. One of them occasionally asked a question about their schoolwork, but for the most part we sat in silence and I knotted and corded until the belt was almost finished.

Upstairs I took off Huria's robes and hung them neatly on the end of the bed, drawing the curtains round and falling asleep almost immediately. The day had almost shattered my ideas of what boarding school must be like, with all its rules and strictures. I could get used to this, I thought, listening to the light hum of continuing chatter from the common room below. Armata-Rae glowed warmly against my skin, as though it were home.

* * * *

"Hermione!" She looked white, shell-shocked. I rushed down the corridor towards her, barely hearing Severus' instruction to call for him later as he turned and left.

"Jane, thank goodness you're here. Are Crookshanks and Cleo alright?" It was Wednesday afternoon.

I looked closely at her. She was trembling, and held a newspaper tightly in her hand. "Are you sure you're alright, Hermione? Crookshanks and Cleo are in the common room. How did it go? What's that paper?"

She held it out. "Considering that you've just lost everything you didn't carry out, you're very cheerful." I stared at the photo on the front page.

"That's not...? It is, isn't it?" I looked closer, at the garden wall, at the gate. Nothing recognizable of the house was left standing, just a charred black mess.

"Your office, Hermione, all that research?"

"Is alright. I've got Severus to thank for that; I never, ever warded it. I didn't think we were in any danger. Oh Jane, I'm sorry I wasn't there." She pulled me into a tight hug. "They're saying it was a gas leak. Do you know, my parent's place was burgled as well, while they were out. They were looking for the records I keep. Thank goodness for Severus and his wards."

"Have you been there? You weren't supposed to go back." She stood back, awkwardly.

"Of course I've been there. No-one told me I shouldn't. Oh - I know they must have tried, but the message obviously didn't get through. The only room standing is my office, and no muggle can see that. Severus charmed it so well he's going to have to come back with me and lift the spells. I can't do it."

I looked at the paper. "I'm going to have to phone my Mum. What if some-one showed that to her?"

"Why don't you send her an owl?"

"Can I do that?"

"Of course. As long as you know the address, since she's a non-magical person."

Hermione led me up so many flights of stairs that I quickly became hopelessly lost, into a large room at the top of one of the towers. The high perches were filled with snoozing owls, the floor below littered with loose feathers and their droppings.

"Here." Hermione raised the lid on a box in the corner and pulled out a parchment, quill and ink. "There's always students who forget to write their letter before they come up here. Just write what you like, fold it up and write your mum's address on the back."

I sat down with the parchment. 'Dear Mum,' The ink splattered and splashed. "Sorry, I'm not very used to this," I said, blotting up the worst spots with another piece of parchment. I wrote, 'I am safe and we are visiting Hermione's old school.' That was fine, but what if she hadn't heard of the fire and I mentioned it? What if she did know, and thought I had been away and didn't know? Was there any need for her to know if she wasn't likely to find out? Finally I finished with, 'I'll call you when I get back.' That was nice and ambiguous. Mum would probably think it was a great joke, using an owl to send her a letter.

Hermione wrote the address, printing neatly, and called down an owl. "Tell him the address," she said, tying the letter onto the leg it obligingly held out. I did so, and kissed her slowly to say thank you when the bird had left through the high window.

"That was an excellent effort at saying nothing at all," she laughed as we descended.

"I tried, really I did," I protested. "It's just she worries so much. What are you doing?" Hermione had stopped to look at a portrait of a fat lady.

"Password dear," it trilled.

"I'm going to get Crookshanks. You said you'd left him here."

"Not here, in the common room downstairs."

"Not...," Hermione had gone white as a sheet. "He hasn't put you in a Slytherin dorm, has he?"

"No, Hufflepuff. Are you alright? Perhaps you should go to the hospital wing?"

"Oh, that's alright." She started breathing again. "You really don't want to get mixed up with Slytherins, you know, they're not very nice." Her voice was breaking slightly.

"Hermione, we're nearly at the hospital wing. Do you want me to bring Crookshanks up here for you? I'm sure Penelope would let him in she's not very strict. And I really have to go; I promised Severus I'd help him with some potions."

"You promised... JANE, EXACTLY HOW MUCH TIME ARE YOU SPENDING WITH SEVERUS SNAPE?"

"There, there dear, it's alright, no need to shout," Penelope soothed, walking up behind Hermione. The look in Hermione's eyes haunted me as I turned downstairs to go and fetch Crookshanks.