Chapter 2 - Back to Class Again
That evening, Jez and Tamara sat on a plush blue rug before a roaring fire, in the Ravenclaw Common Room, chatting to each other over a quiet game of gobstones.
"You know, that's really starting to bug me." Jez exclaimed, suddenly.
"It's bugging you that I'm losing?" Tamara asked, confused. Jez grinned, and good-naturedly threw a gobstone at her friend.
"No, it's bugging me that Thalia hasn't stopped staring at you all evening".
"Who?" Tamara asked, the name unfamiliar.
"Thalia Rhiordan." Jez told her, gesturing to the armchair behind Tamara. Tamara glanced over her shoulder and came face to face with the gothic girl who had sat across from her at dinner. At once, Tamara understood.
Thalia was the embodiment of the typical gothic stereotype; long black hair, black lips, heavy black eye make-up: - the works. For as long as Tamara could remember, Thalia had never shown interest in having any association with anyone, so it was strange that she should be paying them such uncharacteristic attention.
"Don't stress about it, Tamara. It's probably nothing." Jez assured her. It was a mark of how close they were that Jez could read Tamara so well, and Tamara knew that she would be infinitely grateful that she had such a good friend. "I think I might get some beauty sleep. You might wanna think about it, too. You don't want bags under your eyes when you have to see Snape." Jez went on.
"You're not going to let me live this one down, are you?" Tamara asked.
"Never." Jez replied, her smile never faltering.
****
Jez could not have been more hyped when she awoke the next morning. Springing out of bed, she bounded over to Tamara's bed, where her best friend lay in a restless slumber. Jez grabbed hold of the duvet and gave it a tug.
"Wake up, sleepy head!" She yelled. "It's the first day of term!"
Tamara groaned, softly, and turned over. Jez grabbed hold of the duvet again, but this time she pulled it onto the floor. Tamara gave an involuntary shiver, and slowly sat up. One glance at the clock told her the absurd hour of the morning.
"Jez, it's practically the crack of dawn! Go back to bed."
"6.30 am is not the crack of dawn. Besides, getting ready takes time."
Tamara groaned again, but forced herself to follow Jez's lead, bracing herself, and leaving the comfort of the nice, cosy bed. Instead of replacing the duvet on the bed nicely and neatly, like most people would, she simply scooped it off the floor and dumped it onto the bed in a heap. She definitely didn't want to face Snape looking like she'd been dragged through a hedge backwards, as she undoubtedly would if she had stayed in bed for much longer.
When she was finally made-up and ready, Tamara shoved a handful of textbooks into her bag, and slid her feet into her boots, just as Jez shunted her out of the door. Evidently, breakfast was calling their names, and Jez didn't want to miss a single minute.
****
Tamara concentrated on her coffee, trying to forget the fact that Thalia was peering in her direction. As her eyes locked with Thalia's, the girl addressed her. This took Tamara aback. She had not expected it.
"May I read your newspaper?" Thalia asked, reaching out her hand. Tamara passed her the discarded copy of 'The Daily Prophet'. Before Tamara could say a word, though, Thalia had delved into the newspaper's pages, leaving Tamara feeling more than a little confused. Shrugging it off, she reached for the toast.
"Shall we go and get our timetables, then?" Jez suggested, after both girls were sufficiently full.
Tamara nodded, and reached for her bag, only to be stopped by a cool hand on her shoulder. When she saw who it was, she almost felt her heart deflate in her chest. The blond-haired, blue-eyed Juliet Malone. The very Slytherin who had made her life a living hell for five years.
"Don't stand up too quickly. I wouldn't want you to collapse from the effort." Juliet purred, much to the delight of the girls at her side. In an instant, Jez was on her feet, wand pointed at Juliet, ready to defend her best friend's honour.
"Leave it, Jez. It's not worth it." Tamara pleaded.
"I can think of something that's not worth it. I'm surprised they let you back in." Juliet went on, loving Jez's infuriation, and Tamara's embarrassment even more so. Tamara didn't waste another moment. She grabbed Jez's arm and dragged her out of the Hall. She couldn't afford to make a scene on the first day, and given the opportunity Jez would not have hesitated to use her wand.
The minute Tamara stepped outside of the Great Hall, it was to walk headlong into Professor Flitwick, the Head of Ravenclaw House.
"Sorry, Professor." Tamara apologised, breathlessly.
"Is everything alright?" He asked, looking up at her.
"Of course, Professor. Juliet Malone is being herself, but nothing out of the ordinary." Tamara told him, somewhat cryptically. Flitwick nodded in partial understanding.
"Don't forget your timetables." He told them, handing the parchment to Jez and Tamara, and standing aside to let them pass.
Resolved to be strong from now on, Tamara headed to her first class of the day - Transfiguration.
****
After all the morning hype had subsided, the remainder of the day was considerably uneventful. Transfiguration was merely theory, and the learning methods of History of Magic remained unchanged. After a short break, they'd attended 'the study of ancient runes', and the class scheduled to follow that was the subject of much conversation; their first Defence Against the Dark Arts lesson of the year.
It was on their way to the aforementioned class, however, that they noticed a particular occupant of the library. Thalia. Ignoring Tamara's objections, Jez led her inside. Much to Jez's interest, Thalia was found searching through a stack of books in a great hurry. It was Tamara, however, who insisted it meant nothing. Insistently, she dragged Jez from the library in favour of their Defence Against the Dark Arts class, for which they were both now rather late.
Minutes later, the pair sped through the corridors. Flinging open the classroom door, they skidded into the room. Before a single word could be spoken, Tamara's breath caught in her throat. Nothing could have prepared her for seeing the person who stood beside the blackboard.
"Sorry we're late, Professor Dumbledore." Jez piped up, as Tamara hung her head both in embarrassment and humility.
"What we will be learning in this class is of the utmost importance. We cannot afford to be lax, nor can we afford any loss of time. I must ask you not to arrive late in the future. Am I understood?"
"Yes, sir." They chimed together.
"You may take your seats." He told them. The girls wasted no time in obeying. Dumbledore waited until they had done so, before proceeding with the lesson.
Tamara wasted no time in fixing her attention on him. It appeared, however, that she was not the only class member interested in learning from the only wizard Voldemort had ever feared.
He taught them the basic tenets of defensive fighting; speed, accuracy, agility, and self-control. Tamara found his methods fascinating. And although she noticed that some of her class mates found his instruction more than a little extraneous, she was pleased to see that at least the legendary Harry Potter appeared to share her sentiments.
"What did you think of the lesson?" She ventured to ask Harry, casually, as the class shuffled out of the room come lunch time. He gave her a brief look that told of his surprise and slight annoyance at her assumption that his opinion on the subject mattered only due to his preceding reputation. It was not her intention to give that impression, of course, and a look of embarrassment and regret subsequently clouded her features. Immediately understanding this, the intensity of Harry's expression softened.
"Charms and hexes are all very well, but I'm just glad that we're finally being taught the importance of vital battle skills. I imagine that he'll teach us about strategies and quick-thinking, too." He spoke coolly, as though he wasn't bothered in the slightest. Tamara had the impression that he had seen so much in his time that he no longer had the energy to bother about being afraid. He seemed to accept his part in the war with a sort of quiet dignity. She nodded in agreement, offering a fleeting smile before he turned and headed out of the room. Feeling slightly puzzled, she allowed Jez to extricate her from the room.
After lunch was a short Herbology lesson, which gave Tamara the opportunity to contemplate the upcoming Potions lesson and the inevitability of meeting Juliet Malone once more. Initially, the subject of Juliet had been cast to the back of her mind, as Defence Against the Dark Arts had taken up most of her attention. Now, there was no denying what was coming. Despite the effects that nervous adrenaline had on her body, she resolved to retain the same dignity in potions that Harry had shown her during their conversation earlier that day.
Heading to the dungeons, at last, felt almost as though Tamara were heading to her death. She was so on edge, in fact, that when Jez placed a comforting hand on her shoulder she almost jumped a mile in the air.
"What's up?" Jez whispered. Ordinarily she might have teased her friend, but seeing the clammy pale texture of Tamara's skin and the obvious tension of her countenance, she understood the importance of seriousness.
"I'm fine." She insisted, even though it was clear that she wasn't. Jez raised a questioning eyebrow. "I promise." Tamara reiterated. When Jez didn't respond, Tamara grabbed her friend's arm and proceeded to explain herself in a low whisper. "Look, it's going to be the most amount of time I've spent with Snape since what happened in the exam. And on top of that there's Juliet. I'm a little nervous, but I'll be fine. Okay?"
"Okay." Jez echoed, not quite convinced but honouring Tamara's word nonetheless.
The pair continued on their journey to the dungeons in silence. The corridor right outside their appointed classroom held a few occupants, the first to capture her attention being Draco Malfoy and Juliet Malone. At the back of the queue stood Harry and his two friends, Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley. Tamara joined the queue behind them, in the hopes that she could keep a low profile.
After what seemed like an age, Snape finally appeared in the doorway. Without uttering a single word, he ushered the class inside. When Tamara reached the door, she quickly shuffled past him while determinedly keeping her gaze fixed on her feet. She took a seat toward the back of the room, but the significant lack of students who had made it through to N.E.W.T. level meant that there was no-one to really block her from the view of either Snape or Juliet. Focusing her attention on Snape's lesson, she cast her fears to the back of her mind.
Once he had finished his start of year speech and introduced the potion that they would be brewing that lesson, she diligently set to work. Things seemed to go well. She even allowed herself the indulgence of a few stolen glances at him, from time to time. It wasn't until the lesson was almost over, however, that things started to go wrong.
She didn't even see it coming. She took hold of a bowl of lacewing flies at precisely the same moment as Ron, who happened to be worked to her left. Each anticipating that the other would keep hold of the bowl, they both let go at exactly the same moment. What seemed to be an unfortunate coincidence instantly spiralled into disaster. The lacewing flies flew up into the air, and when they finally fell back down once more they landed everywhere; on the benches, on the floor, in Ron's hair, and worse - in Tamara's potion. Of course, the potion called for no more than one lacewing fly to be added. Due to the unfortunate incident, no less than four of the flies landed in Tamara's potion, which began to hiss and fizz furiously. Unable to do anything but watch in shock and horror, the potion exploded unceremoniously.
Juliet, Draco, and another couple of Slytherin's who had made it into the class immediately began to fill the room with raucous laughter. Meanwhile, Snape was to be seen standing over what was left of Tamara's cauldron. Having cleared up the mess left by the potion and the lacewing flies with a mere wave of his wand, he turned his attention to Tamara. Nothing he could have said would have punished her more than the cold disappointment in his eyes. As it was, his silence was more than she could bear. She almost would have preferred it if he had begun shouting at her. She would not be afforded that luxury, however.
"No marks for today, Miss Edgecombe." Were his only words to her. Without waiting for a response he turned to Ron, deducting 50 points from Gryffindor before one could even utter the word 'unfair'.
It was hard to believe. The lesson had gone so well. She had even enjoyed it, somewhat. How could things have gone so wrong? Moreover, was she doomed to failure? Embarrassment and grief at the unfortunate end to the lesson felt as though it were burning her from the inside out.
Jez saw an entirely different picture. She watched as Tamara robotically cleared away the remainder of her potion ingredients, an impenetrable glassy emptiness covering her eyes. Jez knew her friend well enough to know that underneath the stone cold exterior, she was probably an emotional ticking time bomb ready to explode at the slightest nudge. All of a sudden, a startling thought occurred to her. Snape seemed to display the same cold exterior most of the time. If she was right in her understanding of Tamara's emotional state, then wasn't it possible that Snape could be understood in a similar manner? It was odd to think of him in this way. Nonetheless she made a mental note to tell Tamara her theory as soon as her friend had calmed down. When Snape dismissed the class, mere moments later, Jez threw a quick glance at him as she followed Tamara out of the room. As always his expression was unreadable, and it perplexed Jez more than she cared to admit.
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