Last Night I Dreamt I Went in Slytherin Again

So come out fighting with your rattle in hand. Thrust and parry.

Light a match to catch the devil's eye. Bring a cross of fire to the fight.

And let no sleep bring false relief from the tension of the fray.

Come make the dead with the scream of life. Do battle with Ghosts at play.

No Lullaby - Jethro Tull.

Last Night I dreamt I went in Slytherin again - third chapter

I soon came to refer to Miss de Winter's extra tutorials as extra torture. Mum and Dad were delighted when I wrote them about having been selected for the special class. I had been reluctant to take it at first, but since everybody said it was such a wonderful opportunity, I decided to give it a shot. Percy said that it was never too early to start thinking about O.W.L and N.E.W.T exams. It was easy for him to say, he wasn't the one who would have to spend evenings in the dungeon with Miss de Winter. Her classes followed the pattern of the first lesson with Snape, except it was only Miss de Winter, a handful selected students from the first and second years, Luna and I. We would do complicated potions that required immense concentration while she walked around firing questions, often at the most difficult parts of the brewing. Sometimes she would cover theoretical concepts in depth that Snape had gone through in class. Snape was usually not present at the extra lessons; he was perhaps preparing the ordinary torture for daytime classes. He sometimes looked in on us though and they would stand at each side of a student and fire questions from both directions. Some of the first years were often on the verge of tears, but they were also really clever students. Miss de Winter had only selected the very best for her class. Although I was good at potions, I had to concentrate and work hard. This was more advanced than second year level, we were doing things even third, and fourth years would have found difficult. Maybe Miss de Winter would have wanted to have a go at the older students, if she had only been licensed to do so, or perhaps it was just that she wanted her class to excel. Probably hoping Snape would be impressed. I shuddered at the thought that I was doing all this extra work just so I could be in N.E.W.T. class with Snape. The reward for enduring torture was more torture it seemed. I had to remind myself I was doing it for my own sake and not for Snape. Having been able to correct Hermione on several occasions was certainly worth a bit of torture in itself.

I also had to admit Snape's girlfriend intrigued me. I had taken the risk of her wrath one evening, because I was dying to find out for certain that she really was the Rebecca I had heard Snape talk about in the shop in London. I simply called her name.

"Rebecca," I said.

She turned her head quickly. "I am Miss de Winter to you," she said angrily.

"Sorry, Miss de Winter," I said. "I was studying your instructions and forgot myself. I'm really sorry." Aren't I a clever girl?

"Well, I'm delighted you are so concentrated on my Potions, but do try to remember your manners Miss Weasley," she said dryly.

"Yes, Madam."

"Now, what did you want to ask?" Rebecca de Winter said. Oops, this I hadn't prepared.

"Eh, five turns counter clockwise was it?" I invented a question quickly.

"Yes, it says so clearly in the recipe. Have you suddenly lost the ability to read?"

"Sorry," I said. Mental note to myself - When pretending to ask a question always prepare a question to ask, stupid!

By now, it was more obvious what this woman saw in Snape. She was clearly his greatest fan and her life ambition seemed to be to become just like him, only meaner and more sarcastic. You had to admire the ambitiousness of striving for such an utterly unattainable goal.

I didn't have nightmares anymore. That was a good thing. Maybe I had finally managed to put Tom Riddle behind me. However, that still worried me a little, because it had begun to dawn on me that the dreams had not been about Tom Riddle at all. I had come to the conclusion that the witch I had met in Egypt, Isis, who was old enough to be in the British Museum, had found a memory in my mind of something. I had been mulling it over and the picture of the cobra and the crab on the stone door behind the Slythering common room must somehow be the key to the whole thing. The trouble though was, what was I going to do? Who was this Isis witch? Could she really be trusted? Why would I help her and what would she do if I didn't? I had considered telling Ron, but whenever I thought about it, I could hear him laughing at me and telling me off for bothering him with my silly dreams. Possibly, he would just snap at me and ask how I could bother him with my dreaming when Sirius Black was still on the loose and was out to kill Harry. Of course, I was worried about Harry, but that didn't mean there weren't other things to worry about as well. I guess I could take up Dumbledore on his invitation, but he had enough to do protecting an entire school from Sirius Black.

In the end, I decided to tell Luna. It was the weekend of Halloween and all the third years and older students were off to Hogsmeade for the day. Harry had not been allowed to go so I had half-heartedly considered telling him at first, but then I couldn't find him in the common room. Perhaps it wasn't right to bother him with all that, and he still made me nervous sometimes. I found Luna in the library reading her beloved Quibbler upside down.

"I have something to confess to you, " I said, to grab her attention. Then I told her the whole story. I talked for quite some time while Luna sat listening. She didn't ask many questions, but she seemed very interested in Miss de Winter and her relationship with Snape. She said that her Dad used to talk about the Egyptian wizards and how powerful they were. Many wizards in Europe didn't believe they were still around; after all they had to be several thousand years old if they were. Her Dad believed they still existed though; they just didn't bother with the European wizards very much. Her dad would believe such a thing, wouldn't he; he was the editor of the Quibbler.

"We are like children to them," said Luna and looked out over the books in the Library. I saw what she meant. We seemed to have been around for a while when you considered the age of some of the volumes.

"What should I do?" I asked Luna. She didn't seem particularly upset about what I had just told her. I wished sometimes I could be as cool about things as she was.

"I think you are safe in the castle," she said thoughtfully. "That is why you aren't having those dreams anymore. They can't reach you here."

"So you think the witch communicates with me in my dreams. What will she do if I don't help her?"

"Probably zap you with her wand," said Luna.

"Luna! That is not funny!" I said. "She doesn't use a wand by the way."

"I, too, have something to confess," said Luna. I stayed silent, ready to listen.

"There is a big black dog in the castle and I have been giving it food."

I tell her all that and she is on about some dog. I was amazed. Sometimes a conversation with Luna was an enigma in itself. Well, at least she hadn't laughed.

"It looked really starved and it had such sweet and sad eyes." Luna continued. "I have been smuggling food away from the table, but it is hard to take a lot without people noticing."

"Whose dog is it?" I asked.

"I don't know. I think it is a stray. I was hoping that if I gave it food I could adopt it and take it home for the holidays. I have always wanted a dog."

"I have an idea." I grinned. "I know how to get into the kitchen to nick food."

"Really?" said Luna.

"Yes, I overheard Fred and George talking about it. That's one of the good things about being the quiet type. People think that because you don't talk you don't hear things, but actually, the opposite is true."

"I usually don't hear anything when I'm not talking," said Luna.

"That is because you are always dreaming. Come on. It should be fun and that dog shouldn't go hungry on Halloween, even if he is a scabby old stray."

"You should talk about dreaming, snake charmer," Luna said and poked me teasingly with her elbow. Feeding Luna's dog was something to do to take my mind of all the thoughts about Egyptian wizards and seemed like an innocent enough project to fill the day with, while the other students were gone. Stealing food was of course not exactly allowed, but there had to be a little adventure for us too, as we didn't get to visit Hogsmeade. While we were down in the kitchen, we might as well get some food for ourselves. Being a Weasley food was usually never long gone from my thoughts.

To get to the kitchen, you had to tickle a pear on a painting of a bowl of fruit. From Fred and George's descriptions, we had no problem finding it. The painting was hidden in an underground corridor, much like the ones leading down to the dungeons, except this one was broad and nicely lit with torches and the walls were covered in paintings with various food themes. When we tickled the pear it chuckled, squirmed, and then suddenly turned into a door handle. Luna and I couldn't help but laugh ourselves when we saw this. It was partly the excitement that Fred and George's descriptions worked. Had I actually asked them they would probably have thrown me for a loop, having me tickling fruit all over the castle for days, that was just the thing they would have thought terribly funny. Behind the door was the enormous kitchen. It was easily as large as the Great Hall. Luna and I looked around wondering how we would manage to steal food without being caught. I couldn't spot any good places to sneak around and hide. However, it turned out we didn't actually have to steal anything, the house elves gave us as much as we wanted. They were delighted to give food to any witch and never asked if we had permission or what two second-year witches were doing there. We hid as much food as we could carry under our robes. We got delicious smoked hams, sausages, some bread, various pieces of cheese, and finally some fruit. I wasn't sure what dogs usually ate, but this was probably better food than most dogs had, especially strays.

"Come on Ginny. Don't eat all of it."

"Hey, I'm hungry! You don't want to spoil your dog anyway, if you are going to adopt it."

"We have to go out to look for him."

"Where? "

"He usually lurks near the Dark Forrest." We walked out on the grounds trying to look like we were up to nothing in particular, which presented a bit of trouble with all the food hidden under our robes. We walked up to the Dark Forest and stood outside.

"Ian!" Luna called.

"You call him Ian?" I said. "Who calls a dog Ian?"

"Actually I call him Ian Anderson. It is Sandy's dad's name."

"You are truly insane," I said, and laughed.

The dog really had very sad and sweet eyes. It came running out of the forest when Luna called. First, I took a step back, because it was so enormous. It was completely black and a little scruffy but very handsome. A bath wouldn't hurt it though. The dog ate eagerly of all the food we had brought.

"You're such a beautiful little dog, aren't you?" Luna said as she got down on her knees and petted it, ruffling its ears and clapping its large back. The dog seemed very happy to see us, its tail whipped furiously as it was dancing around Luna who was playing with it. She graciously let me pet the dog after a while, as if she had already adopted it. That dog could do worse than being adopted by Luna, I thought. It would probably have wanted nothing more than to curl up at her feet before the Ravenclaw common room fire.

"Hey, there's Hermione's cat," I said. "My god, it's ugly. I'm definitely a dog person."

"Me too," said Luna, grinning. She sat crouched, hugging the dog and stroking its back. "Who is that over by Hagrid's hut? It looks like Miss de Winter. Is she sneaking off to make out with the Potions Master?"

I giggled a little, "Euh, that is so sick Luna! Now I wont be able to eat anything at the feast." It didn't make sense though. If she wanted to meet Snape, she could just walk over to his quarters. "They should be able to have all the privacy they want inside the castle," I said.

"I wonder what they do when they are on their own," Luna said thoughtfully.

"What do you think? They are lovers. Do you think they read aloud to each other from potions books?"

"I should think it has more to do with positions than potions." Luna giggled with her hand over her mouth.

"Luna, you naughty girl. I'm shocked!" I mocked. Luna suddenly collapsed on the ground in laughter. "What?" I asked.

"Severus Snape, positions master," she squealed and I got an image in my head of Snape, standing in his underwear drawing a diagram on a blackboard and magically producing instructions in his usual manner while Miss de Winter sat on a bed watching in apt attention. I had to steady myself against a tree giggling hysterically.

"As such, I don't expect many of you to appreciate the exact art and subtle science of positions," I said, while flickering with my eyes in an imitation of Snape.

"Perhaps he is wearing his green dress while they're at it," Luna said. "He probably takes the hat off first though. It is impolite not to take the hat off when in company of ladies."

"Then she should take her hat off as well," I said.

Luna and I laughed like maniacs.

"Dear Miss de Winter, if you call me feminine again I will hit you with my handbag." Luna imitated Snape.

"Oh, Luna, please! You are killing me!"

"Luna, hush!" I put my hand over her mouth to shut her up. "Come on, Hide behind the trees!" I had spotted something that immediately stopped my laughter and made my heart beat madly instead. Miss de Winter was standing near Hagrid's hut talking to a man with very red hair and a flaming red cloak. They looked very deep in conversation. I hoped they hadn't heard our laughter. Some students out on the grounds didn't seem to worry them though. I wasn't sure, but I had a terrifying suspicion I knew who the man was. When he looked in our direction, I saw that his eyes were glowing red and I was sure. I hoped he couldn't see us.

"Is she seeing another man?" Luna whispered.

"That is the man I met in Egypt," I whispered back. "The man who made the cobra attack that little boy. He was really evil. He sure didn't mind that innocent boy getting hurt. What is he doing here?"

"What does Miss de Winter have going with the snake wizards?" Luna said.

After a minute more of intense conversation, the red-eyed man and Miss de Winter nodded at each other and departed in different directions. She walked towards the castle and the red-haired man disappeared into the forest.

"Aren't the Dementors out there?" I asked.

"Those Egyptian snake wizards can probably make the Dementors dance a can-can if they want to," said Luna.

"Are you serious?"

"Hey, were is Ian?" Luna said.

"Well, he won't be much use as a guard dog that one." I smiled.

I was deep in thought as we walked back to the castle. Seeing that man here was very unsettling. This meant that Miss de Winter was somehow involved in this, but who was that red-haired man? Instinctively I felt I didn't like him. If he was a friend of Isis, I was even less sure that I should trust her. Not to mention that I still had a very vague idea of what she wanted me to do.

That night all hell broke loose. Sirius Black had somehow managed to sneak into the castle, trying to gain entry to the Gryffindor common room. When the Fat Lady wouldn't open the door he had slashed the painting and totally destroyed her. Everyone was very upset and all the teachers searched the castle thoroughly to find Black. Dumbledore fixed colourful sleeping bags by magic and made all the students sleep in the great hall. It would actually have been quite nice sleeping like that, it was almost like a summer night outside at the Burrow, but we were all too scared and upset to enjoy it. Poor Harry! I wanted to say something to comfort him, but what could I say? Suddenly it felt as if I had been thinking too much about my own problems. As if I had almost forgotten about Black. In the commotion as everyone were trying to arrange the sleeping bags and figure out the most comfortable way to go about sleeping in the great hall, I worked up the courage to put my hand on his shoulder and squeeze it a little. As a show of affection, it was perhaps extremely lame, and my heart beat so fast I was unable to say anything, but I think he got the message. He smiled. I lay awake thinking about Sirius Black and Harry, then the red-haired man and Miss de Winter, then Harry again. It all rotated around in my head until I felt very confused. The fact that the red-eyed man was here could only mean trouble. Isis had helped me and she hadn't done anything bad exactly, except scaring the living daylights out of me, or nightlights. That red-eyed fellow I didn't like at all. Was he also helping Isis? Wasn't it very suspicious that the red-eyed man turned up at the castle sneaking around with Miss de Winter and the very same night Sirius Black makes a violent attack on Gryffindor Tower? You had to wonder who had helped Black enter the castle. Wasn't Miss de Winter in Slytherin house? What had her relation been to You-Know-Who? According to Ron, Sirius Black's plan was to murder Harry. This would supposedly impress the Dark Lord and demonstrate Black's undying loyalty as a Death Eater. Black was clearly a raving madman. Why would Mr Red-Eyes and Miss de Winter cooperate with him and what was in the plan for them? You-Know-Who would of course be very pleased if Harry died, but I thought the Dark Lord was dead. Did this mean he was coming back? I felt a sinking feeling in my stomach when I thought about the Dark Lord. I hadn't been born during the dark days, but the look in Mum and Dad's eyes whenever they talked about it was enough to scare you. I knew they had friends that were no longer alive and the way they sometimes whispered about these things and always fell silent when they realised I was listening made me feel like cold terror had crept into the room and poisoned the summer. However, there was something about the friendly smile of that witch, Isis, in Egypt. I needed to find out whether she was in league with the Death Eaters. It might have been that she helped me in that desperate situation, maybe I was misjudging her, but somehow I couldn't imagine her associating with You-Know-Who.

I had to somehow find out more about this. Maybe I should try to get another look at that book in the restricted section. But that meant I had to either get a note from a teacher or sneak in there once more. Somehow, I sensed it was a lot harder when you were doing it on purpose. I probably would look completely guilty and give myself away. Finally, when it was nearly morning I fell asleep.

Curiously, Miss de Winter never appeared at the staff table in the Great Hall. Perhaps only fully qualified professors were allowed to sit at the high table, or maybe she wanted to keep a low profile. Keeping a low profile seemed like suspicious behaviour in my mind. I wondered what the other professors thought of Miss de Winter. Did they know about her and Snape? Perhaps Snape was uncomfortable having her at the table given their relationship.

Personally, I saw a great deal of Miss de Winter in her special potions class. Several nights every week, the little group of selected students would assemble in the dungeons. We stood gathered in a circle around our tutor who spoke in a low soft voice, the flickering torchlight dancing in her dark large eyes. The seclusion of the dungeons and the late hour eliminated the faint clatter and noise of students in the corridors and other activities that were always present during daytime classes. In the complete silence, the bare stone walls made her voice echo with a deserted hollow quality. Her gaze would bore into one student and then move to another. Suddenly she would throw out a question in mid-sentence without prior warning. During these sessions breathing felt like a loud noise and I didn't quite dare to move or scratch my nose for fear that I would draw attention to my existence and become the target of the next question. Whenever a torch sputtered and crackled everyone jumped. Most unnerving of all were the times when a faucet somewhere in the dark rear parts of the dungeon would be dripping piercing the silence. Miss de Winter never acknowledged the sound or made any attempt to go and tighten it. She seemed to cherish anything that would pound on our nerves.

When we had practical lessons, we sometimes prepared ingredients for brewing beforehand. This was tedious work, but Miss de Winter had no qualms about keeping us up late in the evening doing these chores when we could have spent the time doing homework.

"You need to learn the delicate process of preparing your ingredients yourself. Any serious and dedicated potions student mustn't be forced to rely on the dodgy preparations made in some of the shops in Diagon Alley. If you are serious about potions you will eventually prepare everything yourself," she said one night when the class had actually dared to slip a barely audible groan at her next assignment, preparing and drying Silybum Marianum - more commonly known as thistle.

"This isn't even potions, this is Herbology," a Slytherin girl named Joan Ignavus hissed to me a few minutes later when we had started cutting the coloured part of the flowers from the green part for separate storage and drying. The flowers were small and delicate enough to make the use of protecting gloves impossible, but without the gloves, your fingers became full of nasty little thorns very quickly.

"There might be some truth to that," Miss de Winter dangerously soft voice came from the other end of the room. She stood with her arms crossed; half her face lay in shadow. "The two subjects are related and you should expect some crossing over at times. I rely on some of the knowledge from Herbology to stick in your minds as well, since Professor Snape and I cannot teach you all the background on the plants we use in potions," she said emerging into the light.

"Bugger!" Joan exclaimed and put her finger in her mouth. A particularly nasty thorn had apparently pricked her under the nail. "The only things sticking in this class now are those stupid thorns." Her face was red with restrained anger.

"They are my pedagogical aids," Miss de Winter said with a dry smile, her eyes glittering. "No pain, no gain. The glory and magic of potions doesn't come to those who are not prepared to suffer a little. If that thought cannot penetrate that thick skull of yours, perhaps it can through your fingers. I should think the thorns would be one of the few things from my class to remain in your memory as my words leave very few marks, apparently." She walked by Joan's desk and glanced down at her pile of thistles pausing briefly. Her nose twitched as if there was an offensive smell and then she turned and examined my work quite unexpectedly. Did she think I was idling behind her back?

"That looks very nice Miss Weasley. I see you do not have any objections to applying a little knowledge from Herbology." I looked up at her and she was looking almost friendly. Why was she always so cheerful with me? It was true I usually managed to follow her instructions and achieve the desired outcome, but not without a considerable amount of help from Luna. Another astonishing fact dawning on me as I stood there was that I didn't actually hate her classes, at least not all the time. I was tense terrified and angry, sometimes within the same minute. However, feeling the cold heavy marble table under my steady hands as I worked, following instructions carefully and methodically with all the right tools laid out, and the ingredients neatly prepared, could inspire a feeling that I was in control. That fascinating results would follow when you knew the theory and the craft. Engulfed by the acrid fumes of the potions working in a corner of the dungeon, totally absorbed in my work my mind racing with detached excitement and steely logic, it felt no person's opinion of me, my looks, whom I knew, my family, or fortunes could take my achievements away. Potions didn't care if you never said cool things or whether you blushed crimson and stuttered whenever someone talked to you. Either it worked or it didn't. The trick with the lessons was to escape Miss de Winter's interrogations and theoretical sessions into this realm of logic and beauty. Then it was quite ok.

We did sometimes fail miserably though. Once we had managed to make a whole cauldron cascade its slimy brown contents on the dungeon wall. Miss de Winter had actually started laughing that time in a high-pitched croaking laughter. Luna and I were so shocked we laughed too. Miss de Winter then immediately stopped and stood staring in silence at us boring her yes into Luna and me in turn. Without a word, we had started cleaning the wall like maniacs. I had been sure Luna and I were up for detention after that incident, but strangely Miss de Winter had continued the lesson with no further comments. I hoped I wasn't becoming her pet student. I wondered what the Gryffindors would say about Ginny Weasley favourite student of Miss de Winter and Severus Snape.

"I don't mind Herbology," I mumbled, turning back to my thistles.

"Then you might like to take a look at my little project Miss Weasley, that I am preparing right over here." She pointed me over to a door at the back of the room. When I hesitated her friendly eyes suddenly turned cold and hard again and I hurried to follow her. She showed me into a small room with an array of cauldrons, test tubes and various potions, parchments in piles among herbs in small and large pots, half open cupboards with the usual jars filled with slimy things. What project, I wondered, pickled snakes and onions rotting cosily together in a large brown jar? To my amazement, it was strawberries. They were planted in a tray with soil standing precariously on a pile of parchments amongst all the clutter on a table. The red berries peeked out between green leaves. I couldn't help but smile.

"Gorgeous aren't they?" Miss de Winter said. "I have been enchanting them a little to grow larger and all around the year. The soil is of course prepared with various potions to bring this about. Very interesting work." I looked at the beautiful strawberries fascinated. "You would be interested in how I managed to use Echinacea to stimulate the plants resistance against cold and strengthen its re-growth. There is also an interesting combination of potions and charms to make the taste fuller and sweeter. It is of course a bit beyond anything we do at Hogwarts, but I have felt a little need to dig my teeth into something really difficult in my spare time."

"What are they used for?" I asked.

"I put them in my yoghurt at breakfast. Quite delicious," Miss de Winter said.

"You have to admire the important ends the advanced university students choose to apply their talent and efforts to these days," came Snape's sarcastic voice from behind me. He had come into the room completely silently, startling both Miss de Winter and me. "You might quite have saved the world Miss de Winter, especially considering the breakfast habits in France. Black coffee and a strawberry will do wonders for French health. Not to mention mood." His greasy hair fell forward covering his face as he bent jerkily to examine the plant for a second. He then straightened up and thrust a thick book into the hand of Miss de Winter. "Here, the Encyclopaedia you were looking for in my office." Miss de Winter looked confused at first, then her face lit up as if she had remembered.

"Yes, Professor, thank you. It will be very helpful, thank you!" she said.

What was going on? Snape was criticising Miss de Winter in front of a student. Did they have a fight? I felt awkward being caught in a lover's quarrel, if that was what it was. Snape gave the strawberries an irritated look and then he swept out of the little room.

"I hear your father is rather prominent at the Ministry of Magic, Miss Weasley," Miss de Winter said.

"I don't know," I said. "He works at the department for Muggle and Wizard relations."

"How fascinating! He wouldn't by any chance know Otto Knut, would he?"

"Who is Otto Knut?" I asked.

"Oh, you don't know? He is the author of Hogwarts: A History. There is possibly no man alive who knows more about Hogwarts than he."

"Ah, yes Dad might have mentioned him some time," I said shrewdly, catching on. "Who reads that book anyway?"

"As a matter of fact I have been reading it quite extensively the last couple of weeks," Miss de Winter said, smiling. "Have a strawberry, Miss Weasley." Her friendliness made me queasy. I felt as if it was the unnatural calm before a storm; that could only be followed by the most terrible hurricane. I took one of the giant strawberries from the plant, careful to avoid hurting it. Snapping Miss de Winter's strawberry plant in two and thus killing the source of her breakfast yoghurt enhancement seemed like a sure way to end her friendliness for good. "I suppose it is the nostalgia, not having been to Hogwarts for so long you know." She put her hand on my shoulder leading me gently out of the small room. Snape was standing just outside the door. Had he been listening?

"Maybe I should read it sometime," I said uncertainly, when no one spoke. "There are many things about the castle I don't know yet I suppose." Snape and Miss de Winter only looked at each other. The two dark haired black-cloaked figures looked like statues in the eerily flickering dungeon torchlight. Perhaps it was the sparse light that cast Snape's face in sharp relief, but I thought it looked more lined than usual, and he had deep bags under his eyes. The tense silence made me very uncomfortable. I wondered if I should quietly sneak away to my thistles. Was the peculiar demonstration of the strawberry project over yet?

"I wonder if Sirius Black has read Hogwarts: A history," I said trying to break the silence. "You got to wonder how he managed to get into the castle."

"Indeed, one has to wonder how he managed that," said Snape, not taking his eyes off Miss de Winter. "Perhaps he had help."

"He was in Slytherin with you, wasn't he?" I babbled on nervously. Snape's face suddenly looked even darker. Now I've done it, I thought. Then Miss de Winter laughed and smiled at me.

"Sirius Black was in Gryffindor," she said.

"But," I said. "I assumed..."

"You assumed that since he is a criminal and a Death Eater he must have been in Slytherin," Snape said darkly.

"No, Professor. I didn't mean it like that," I said.

"I knew him quite well," Snape continued, "but I was never his friend. I know someone who was though, I just haven't figured out who else might have been yet."

"Oh, you and he were always playing pranks on each other weren't you?" Miss de Winter laughed.

"Yes, they were deadly funny," Snape said, in a voice that made me think somehow the jokes hadn't been all the fun and games Miss de Winter tried to make them sound like.

"Such a dashing young fellow that Sirius Black," Snape growled. "So many times, he must have had use for that room of requirement, and not all of his companions were from Gryffindor. Maybe some were even in Slytherin." I wondered what the room of requirement was. Perhaps I really ought to read Hogwarts: A History.

"Now, Severus," Miss de Winter said, cocking her head at him, "Why don't you tell Miss Weasley about that incident with the Whomping Willow instead. It was quite a funny story." She said my name, very pointedly, as if to remind Snape I was still standing there.

"That might be something we could tell our trusted Slytherin students," Snape said, looking at me.

"Oh Professor," Miss de Winter said, laughing a little again, "Who can we trust if not the students who share our passion for potions. They are becoming quite special to us, aren't they, and the Weasleys are a fine pure blood family anyway. I should think a little trust wouldn't spoil them too much, especially not the most talented ones. I have sensed a lot of ambition and drive in our young student here. I think she reminds me a little of myself. The fact that she is not in Slytherin is probably just a fluke, I sense she might as well have been." Snape looked at me and drew his breath, as if he was about to tell me something, then he hesitated.

"No, I gave the headmaster my word," he said. "I shall only divulge the moral of that story, Miss Weasley. Be as careful with the people who want to be your friend, as with those you count as your enemy, especially if the friendship is very sudden and unexpected." He locked at me intently. "Then again, some may have powerful allies to protect them." His eyes stopped at my necklace as he said this. "I would advice a certain amount of caution also when a friendly stranger asks for help, even when the messenger comes in royal colours, and as for whoever is helping Sirius Black, they can look into the moon for him, or her."

He snapped around and walked quickly through the dungeon towards the door. His black robes cascaded after him and his angry steps echoed. The curious students looked up from their thistles but the look on Snape's face made them hastily turn back to their work. A loud bang announced he had left. I winced. "One of these days I'm going to sneak down here and hide that bloody door if that's what it takes to stop him doing that," I thought to myself angrily.

"I haven't poisoned that strawberry, you know," Miss de Winter said.

I absentmindedly put the strawberry in my mouth. It was quite possibly the most delicious thing I had ever eaten.

"What was that all about?" Luna whispered when I returned to the thistles.

"I'm not sure," I said. "I think Miss de Winter wanted some information from me. Possibly, Snape suspects she is in league with Sirius Black. Or he might be jealous of him."

"Jealous of Sirius Black?" Luna looked surprised. "I thought he was supposed to be this really slimy and dangerous bloke."

"Apparently, he was very popular at Hogwarts."

"And I bet Snape wasn't," Luna said.

Exhausted and with my fingers aching, I said good night to Luna and walked back towards the Gryffindor common room. Thinking of the homework I still had to do for tomorrow, my steps felt heavy as they echoed in the empty corridor. The stupid new painting of the knight, Sir Cadogan, was putting on a show about bravery and chivalry that was very tiresome. I wished he would just do his job properly. "Fotheringay!" I said impatiently, and he let me in with much bowing and twirling of his hand. "Enter fair maiden of Gryffindor tower."

"Honestly, that knight needs his head chopped off," I muttered, when he was out of earshot.

"You really think so?" said Harry grinning at me. He was sitting at a table with an open book, studying something that looked like it might be Divination.

"Hello Harry!" I stood in the middle of the room for a moment hesitating then I walked over and sat down across from him. It felt like the most natural thing in the world and he didn't seem to mind. Why should he, I had as much right to be in the Gryffindor common room as he. The leaded windows creaked a little from the winds outside and the warming fire crackled cosily. Now that I had sat down I really should say something too.

"You are up late, Harry," I said. "Lots of homework?"

"Yeah, and Quidditch practise takes up all my time. Wood is running us through the mill. We are playing Slytherin on Saturday."

"You'll slaughter them!" I said.

"You seem to be in very violent mood today." Harry grinned again.

Oh, I could almost fall into those bright smiling eyes! "It must be from spending too much time with Snape," I said. "What is that you are studying?" I asked.

"Divination. Maybe if I study it, I can predict the outcome of the game," he joked.

"Why don't they just let Trelawney try to see who is helping Sirius Black into the castle?" I said. "It should be a snap for her."

"I don't think she's actually that talented," Harry said. "Hermione thinks she's an old fraud. I don't know really, but all that Divination seems a little airy. Dumbledore wouldn't let her teach if she wasn't for real though, would he?"

"No, I don't suppose he would," I said. "Have you heard anything about Black? How do you think he got into the castle?"

"I really don't know. I can't see anyone helping him. All those theories about Apparating and such are thoroughly squashed by Hermione. It is supposed to be impossible to enter the castle by stealth." Harry looked thoughtfully into the fire preoccupied. He must be feeling terrible. I wondered if Snape suspected Miss de Winter or if they had just had a row. That happened often enough with Mum and Dad, what would it not be like with people as ill tempered as Snape and Miss de Winter. Poor Harry. What would it be like walking around thinking about a bloody murderer trying to off you?

"What is that you've done to your hair, Ginny? It looks rather nice on you," Harry said suddenly. I had been looking at the window and not realised his eyes had left the fire. My heart made a summersault in my chest and then started to pound madly.

"Thank you Harry!" I said. I felt I was smiling brightly. I couldn't help myself. He smiled back at me. "I didn't think anyone in the world had noticed."

"Well, of course they have. I noticed actually in the Leaky Cauldron, but as you never talk to me, I couldn't tell you, could I?" Was it I who didn't talk to him? I suppose I didn't. I felt my face grow red along with the silence between us, as I was lost for an answer. How could I explain I was so tongue tied and terrified all the time? It seemed so stupid that I couldn't talk about it. I stared at my hands and the silence started to grow alarmingly long. I was pondering a way to explain things to Harry but then I wondered if I really understood well enough to explain it to myself. I wished I were back in my dream instead; things had seemed easy and simple then. Should I tell him I was a Parselmouth? Would he hug me or scream in disgust? The silence and tension grew ever longer and more intense.

"By the abundance of the heart the voice is silenced," I said finally looking up into his green eyes. To my horror, the words I had spoken were in Parselmouth. It was barely a whisper and it came out like a soft hiss. Oh well, the snake was out of the basket; he could kill me if he wanted to. I searched his eyes to see what the reaction would be.

"She who speaks lovingly is eloquent enough," Harry whispered back, in the same soft Parselmouth voice, looking at me intently. The tension between us seemed to disappear with a pop, to be replaced with a warm feeling of understanding. The warmth of those eyes and the strange language said it didn't matter much what anyone thought or said, because we were two of a kind. I wanted to tell Harry everything that had happened. I knew he would understand.

"Are you two sitting in the Gryffindor tower speaking snake language?" came Ron's voice suddenly. "You should at least head over to Slytherin before you do that." Harry and I looked up at him startled and confused. Damn! Just as I had been about to blurt it all out to Harry, my courage washed away with the appearance of Ron. The moment was gone and with it my nerve.

"I wasn't speaking snake language was I?" Harry said alarmed.

"Of course you weren't," I said. "He is pulling your leg Harry." He really didn't realise he was doing it. I wondered if I sometimes spoke a different language without realising I did. I had usually known I was doing it, I just didn't know how I could. But if I didn't realise at times then I wouldn't remember that would I?

"Yeah, I was just commenting on Ginny's new hair style, that's all," Harry said quickly.

"I thought you looked like you were about to do a little more than that mate," Ron said, grinning slyly. "If you two want some privacy I can get lost you know."

"Don't be stupid Ron," Harry said. "We were just talking."

"I think I must go fetch my books. I still haven't started on my homework and it is really getting late," I said and stood up abruptly, my face red again. I walked up the stairs to the girl's dormitory.

"Is something going on with you and my sister?" I heard Ron whisper, as I climbed the stairs.

"No, of course not," Harry said, "We were just talking. You know how she just shuts up around me all the time. It makes me feel strange and funny, like I'm very frightening or something. She is very nice really, I wish we could be friends."

"How good friends?" Ron asked.

"Oh, shut up you!"

They were throwing pillows at each other and laughing, mock fighting. No one was getting much homework done tonight I thought. I decided to go to bed instead and take my academic failures of tomorrow in stride.