Chapter Two: With a Bang

I awoke the next morning with a heaving gasp. I had dreamed about Dad's death. Again.

I watched him die night after night, and I'd cry out to his dead body every time, knowing it would never move again, and knowing there was nothing I could do to change what had happened. My mother's face would appear. She was never angry, and she would never yell. She just looked so utterly and entirely disappointed as she spoke somberly:

"If only you had been good enough."

My heart felt twisted and rotten. I curled my legs into my body and forced myself to breath. The task suddenly seemed impossible, but I wouldn't let myself cry out. No one could make this better. No one could come and kiss this pain away. So I breathed deeply, composed myself, and opened the curtains to start my day.

The fourth year Ravenclaws were excited to have a new face amongst their little crowd during classes. Each professor throughout the day welcomed me at the start of class during role call, and I'd try out a smile.

Double Potions with Hufflepuff was just before dinner where we learned about antidotes from a pale, unfriendly looking professor with long black hair named Professor Snape.

Mother had told me that her favorite professor from her time at Hogwarts was a Potions master named Horace Slughorn, but it appeared he had retired some time ago because this professor had been around for about thirteen years according to Justin Finch-Fletchley, the Hufflepuff I met at yesterday's feast.

This professor didn't call role, probably because after three years with these students he didn't see the need for it. He lectured tirelessly on the subject, sounding as though he had a deep-seeded fascination for the topic, but doubted that any of the students would appreciate what he was saying. I found it fascinating nonetheless, the way one small change could undo the work of almost any poison like a reset button. If only there were a reset button when it came to life, I thought dolefully.

I hurried to complete the last of my notes as the bell was ringing for dinner. Justin, who was sitting next to me, heaved a sigh of relief and began packing his things. He was clearly eager to leave the class. But I stayed to jot it all down, not even glancing at my bag as I finished my notes.

I rolled up my parchment when I was done and slipped it into my bag. With most of the students gone, I could finally see the professor properly. I wondered vaguely why he had chosen to become a teacher, let alone keep the post for over a dozen years. He didn't seem to enjoy it much.

The professor looked up suddenly, as though he had known I was analyzing him. A small frown settled itself over his slightly widened eyes. Was the fact that I was a new student so disarming, I wondered as the Potions master continued to stare at me. Granted, Professor Flitwick had nearly toppled off the pile of books he was teaching atop of in excitement this morning, but this was quite different.

"Miss Samantha Evans," he said as the last of the students exited the classroom.

"Professor Snape," I replied evenly, not wanting to sound as cautious as I felt.

The professor nodded and looked back down at the parchment in front of him. I hooked my bag over my shoulder to leave. I glanced back at the doorway to find him staring at me again.

"Out," he barked. My eyebrows flew up at this, and I hurried out the door feeling more than a little confused.

I strode swiftly away from the dungeons. The look in the Potions master's eyes had been off-putting, to say the least. I had never gotten a more confusing first impression from anyone before today. I tried to shake the strange feeling away as I neared the entrance hall.

A strange sound coming from around the corner succeeded in pulling me from my thoughts. I figured I ought to be hearing the students queuing up for dinner, but instead there was a startling silence broken only by a dull smacking sound I couldn't place. It happened again. And again. And then the sounds were followed by laughter.

"Never—do—that—again," came a distant growl. The words coincided with the smacking sounds, and that didn't suggest anything friendly despite the collective amusement of whomever was witnessing the event. My left hand clenched violently and compulsively, my fingernails digging into the flesh of my palm. Nothing about the situation sounded good.

I broke into a run, rounding the corner to find the ex-Auror Moody aiming his wand at a small white ferret. The ferret was being bounced up and down, smacking the floor harder with each repetition and squeaking with fear and pain in a way that sounded almost human.

I had seen this sort of thing before, not with a ferret, but with a person. And not just any person; a very important person in my life who had just died…

A pure, unfiltered rage shot through my body, and I could almost hear the air around me sizzle. I instinctively bolted forward, my father's wand in hand for the first time since last night. I threw a disarming spell at the professor so hard that he staggered backward as I dropped to a protective crouch between him and his victim.

The students in the entrance hall gasped in unison, then fell into an undisturbed silence.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" the professor spat at me when he had regained his balance. A nearby student hesitantly handed him his wand.

"I might ask you the same question, sir," I hissed, my expression calm but my eyes filled with a clear, controlled fury. We stared venomously at each other, eyes locked and wands at the ready until a very startled Professor McGonagall appeared.

I heard a small moan of pain from just behind me: the ferret had resumed its original shape of a Slytherin boy with very blonde hair. Convinced that Moody had been thoroughly distracted by McGonagall, who was now lecturing him on proper forms of punishment, I turned to face the boy. His eyes were watering with pain and humiliation as I reached out to help him up.

He ignored my hand, choosing instead to mutter something in Moody's direction in which only the words "my father" were distinguishable.

"Oh yeah?" said Moody quietly, limping forward menacingly. I spun on my heel to face him, gripping Dad's wand even tighter and pointing it directly at his heart. My hand was steady with determination, causing the professor to stop dead in his tracks.

"Miss Evans," McGonagall snapped, looking positively astounded. "Lower your wand!"

I didn't even blink. Moody paused to consider me, his eyes suddenly shining with approval.

"Your Head of House'll be Snape, will it?" he growled, his good eye switching to look at the boy still curled up in pain on the floor while his magical eye fixated unblinkingly on me.

"Yes," the boy said resentfully.

"Both of you will come with me," Moody said, stalking off in the direction I had just come from, leaving us behind.

Only when he had disappeared around the corner did I put Dad's wand away. The students were now whispering excitedly to each other as McGonagall ushered them into the Great Hall for dinner.

I extended a hand to the boy yet again, but he ignored it. I stepped back respectfully as he attempted to right himself. And he very nearly succeeded, but with a wince and a grunt he toppled over again. I shot out an arm to keep him from hitting the ground and further injuring himself. I pulled him to his feet and he leaned on me resignedly after glancing around to ensure no one was there to witness his weakness.

Slowly, and carefully, we began to walk after Moody.

The boy was still wincing in pain as we made our way into the dungeons. I wondered if he might have fractured a rib or two. I glanced sideways at him, noticing the way he was holding himself. Yeah, definitely a rib.

"Are you all right?" I asked.

"I'll be fine," he shot back, clearly resentful that he was being aided by a girl, but gasping slightly at the pain his retort had caused.

"I don't doubt that," I said, ignoring his tone. "But I'm asking how you feel right now."

The boy refused to answer.

Just as we reached the door to Snape's office, the boy looked around yet again to see that no one was around. I saw a change in his stormy grey eyes as the hardness left them.

"Draco Malfoy," he said quietly, extending his hand.

The smallest of smiles touched my lips. It wasn't a thank you, but it was enough for me to catch a glimpse of the man behind the mask.

I shook his hand with my left, seeing as my right arm was busy propping him up.

"Sam Evans."

And together we strode into the professor's office.

"She assaulted a professor?"

Snape's silky voice reached our ears first as we entered. I helped Draco into one of the chairs in front of Snape's desk and settled myself into the one next to it.

"Welcome back, Miss Evans," said Snape with soft sarcasm.

I just barely kept myself from rolling my eyes, but the professor seemed to read my intentions regardless and responding by narrowing his eyes.

Snape stood swiftly, rounding his desk and falling to one knee beside a still-wincing Draco Malfoy. He placed practice hands on various parts of Draco's body, checking for injuries.

"How was he injured?" Snape asked quietly, not looking up from his work.

"Professor Moody transfigured him into a ferret and proceeded to assault him by bouncing him violently on the entrance hall floor," I answered without hesitation or pause for breath, refusing to give Moody the opportunity to invent some excuse. He may be an ex-Auror, but that was no way to treat another human being. And a student, no less! It took all of my restraint to keep from turning and glaring at the man.

Snape's eyes snapped up to look at Moody.

"Is this true?" he asked, sounding slightly smug. I found the urge to smirk at Moody irrepressible.

"Yes, but only because he tried to attack Harry Potter." Moody retorted angrily.

The smirk left my face as Snape and I both turned to Draco.

"Is this true?" Snape repeated, not sounding nearly as smug as before.

"He insulted Mother," Draco said quietly, cringing away from Snape's hands as they reached a certain area of his chest.

"Fractured rib," Snape muttered.

"Knew it," I blurted. Snape whipped his head around to narrow his dark eyes at me. "Sorry, I just…sorry." I looked away immediately.

At that moment, Professor Flitwick and Madame Pomfrey, the school nurse, strode into the office. Snape straightened, gesturing to Draco and allowing Pomfrey to take over the inspection.

"You called for me, Severus?" Flitwick said, eyes falling on me.

"Yes. Apparently there has been an incident in the entrance hall involving these two students and Alastor here that we are trying to straighten out. As Miss Evans' Head of House, she is your responsibility."

"And what exactly happened?"

"From what I've gathered," Snape began, seating himself behind his desk, "Mr. Malfoy attempted to hex Harry Potter after Potter insulted his mother. Alastor proceeded to transfigure Mr. Malfoy into a ferret as punishment, bouncing him violently on the floor, causing several injuries to Mr. Malfoy's person. The rest of the story, including Miss Evans' involvement, remains to be seen."

"She was brilliant," Draco breathed suddenly, his grey eyes lighting up.

"Apologies," Madame Pomfrey said immediately. "I've given him a Calming Draught so that he could relax, but it seems to have relaxed his inhibitors more than normal. He should straighten out in a moment."

"But she was!" he repeated, his speech sounding somewhat slurred as he slumped awkwardly in the chair. "She just came out of nowhere, like a knight in shining armor! Only she's a girl, so…" Draco tried to pull himself out of the chair as he babbled, but Madame Pomfrey pulled him back down and gave him a sedative, knocking the Slytherin out cold.

"Or maybe not," she muttered.

Snape looked at Draco with a pained grimace on his face.

"Professor, if I may," I began, looking to Snape for permission. He paused, considering, before nodding and looking away.

"I saw what was happening, a professor assaulting a transfigured student, I mean. And so I instinctively went to help. Professor Moody's actions were bordering on torture, and in that moment, it didn't matter that he was a professor. I used a disarming spell to put a stop to his actions and placed myself between him and the student. I refused to stand down until I knew it was safe."

The look in Snape's eyes seemed to be battling between surprise and expectation despite the stillness of his facial expression. I frowned slightly at this, wondering why he was so hard to read.

"Of course I know it's wrong to assault a professor, but I wasn't going to stand for such treatment of a student. Any student," I finished with determination.

Silence filled the office.

"Sorry, but," Madame Pomfrey interjected, "remind me, Miss Evans. How long have you been at Hogwarts?"

"Just under twenty-four hours," I replied coolly.

Madame Pomfrey nodded slowly to my response.

"Yes, well, I ought to take Mr. Malfoy to the Hospital Wing for the night. He'll be perfectly all right and ready for class in the morning, he just needs some time to recuperate while I mend this fracture. Good night." And she left, levitating Draco's unconscious form after her.

"Is there anything you'd like to add, Alastor?" asked Snape.

Moody glanced at me, considering.

"That took balls, Evans," he said after a long pause.

I jolted a bit in my seat, clearly startled.

"S-Sir?"

"You'd have made a fantastic Gryffindor," Moody continued. "I'd bet the Sorting Hat considered it. What you did took some serious bravery. To stand up to a professor and ex-Auror for someone you don't even know? That's just bloody marvelous."

I sat there speechless, my thoughts going a mile a minute. But what came out of my mouth wasn't any of those thoughts.

"It almost put me in Slytherin, actually."

There was a pause. Then Flitwick and Moody began to laugh, relaxing the tension in the room significantly. Snape merely raised an eyebrow, his eyes now determinately blank.

"What made you do it, may I ask?" Moody asked, eyeing me eagerly.

I hesitated.

"Do I need a reason?" I ventured, hoping for a way out of the question.

"People usually do," said Moody simply.

"Fine. I've seen someone being injured that way before, and I was helpless to save them, and I vowed that I'd never see that happen again. To anyone," I said in a rush.

"Was the person all right afterwards?" Flitwick asked, concerned.

"No," I said coldly.

Everyone went quiet after that. Moody was staring intently at me, clearly reading between the lines of my words.

"Well, uh, if that's everything, then perhaps we ought to head to dinner before it's finished," Flitwick said, chuckling nervously. "Unless someone feels punishment is in order."

"Not at all," Moody said, hobbling briskly toward the door. "Minerva already lectured me about proper forms of punishment. That was punishment enough for me."

I pulled myself to my feet, speechless to inquire as to why I wasn't being punished for attacking a teacher. I followed them wordlessly out of the dungeons.

We entered the Great Hall; most of the students had eaten and left already. Those who remained looked up at us expectantly, clearly having witnessed or heard of the incident. Some looked disappointed that I wasn't limping or anything and went back to their meals. But those who kept watching would have seen Moody clap an enormous hand on my shoulder before joining the other professors at the head table. Flitwick and Snape followed.

I approached the Ravenclaw table, spotted Luna, and sat down next to her. She didn't even bring up the subject, and I tucked in, thankful to have a friend who didn't feel the need to talk everything to pieces.

I chanced a glance at the head table. Moody was clearly reenacting the scene for Professor Dumbledore, who was looking at me rather amusedly. I ducked my head, fighting a blush, and focused on my dessert.

That's when I was struck with an idea.

"Sorry, Luna," I said, wrapping up a couple desserts in a napkin. "I have to go."

"Ok," Luna said absently, waving a vague hand in my direction as I sped from the Great Hall.

I hurried through the corridors, overtaking students who had just left the Great Hall in pursuit of their respective Houses. After only two wrong turns, I burst through the doors to the hospital wing.

Slightly winded, I glanced around the room until I spotted a certain boy with very blonde hair.

"Ah, Miss Evans, he's doing very well. Just needs to stay still for a bit is all," Madame Pomfrey said as she caught sight of me. I nodded my thanks and moved to Draco's bedside.

"I just thought you might like some dessert," I said quietly, sitting on the edge of the bed. Draco's eyes slid into focus as he registered my presence.

"Oh it's you," he said bluntly. I chuckled a bit.

"Yeah, it's me. Éclair?" I offered.

Draco glanced around the Hospital Wing. It was empty, save for Madame Pomfrey, which was good considering it was the first day of school.

"Why are you here?" he asked, taking the dessert and biting into it.

"Just wanted to see if you're all right," I said simply, placing the rest of the desserts on the bedside table.

"M'fine," he mumbled around his éclair. After swallowing, he added, "That calming draft was a bitch, though."

I laughed. "Yeah, you were a little tipsy there for a bit."

"Was I?"

"I believe you called me your knight in shining armor."

Draco paled, if that was possible.

"No I didn't."

I chuckled kindly. "If you say so."

Draco suddenly reached up and brushed my hair from my face, a small frown creasing his features.

I froze uncertainly. "Uh…Draco?"

"Your eyes…"

"You're the second person who's mentioned my eyes since I got to Hogwarts last night," I said, relaxing. "What about them?"

"They're—" but he stopped short and retracted his hand as Madame Pomfrey came over and switched off the bedside light. She also handed him a small goblet and told him to drink it.

"He'll be drifting off soon. That was a sleeping draft," she told me.

"Ok, I'll leave. Good night, Draco."

"Harry Potter," he mumbled almost inarticulately before dozing off. I frowned amusedly before exiting the hospital wing.

###

I awoke the next morning with a shout that caused my dorm-mate Padma Patil to fall over while in the midst of putting her socks on. She informed me of as much when she came and wrenched open the curtains around my bed.

"What's wrong?" she shrieked in my ear. I repressed a groan of disapproval at the loudness of her voice.

"Nothing. Bad dream," I muttered, which seemed to mollify her.

The dream was always the same. I watched him die night after night in the exact same way, the emerald light of the killing curse blinding me in my sleep. And there I was, helpless as always, with nothing to do but scream. And then there she was, my stoic-as-ever mother, telling me that I wasn't good enough. And every morning was the same, filled with heart wrenching pain and pure terror, fighting to repress the shout on the tip of my tongue.

But this morning I had failed, startling the other fourth year girls. I made a mental note to start putting silencing charms around my bed before I fell asleep.

I strode down to the Great Hall for breakfast still shaking off the effects of the dream. And when I settled down at the table next to Luna, I pulled out my Potions textbook with the intent of reading about the Dreamless Sleep Draught.

I had barely opened my book when I was swarmed by a hoard of students, all of them shouting questions at me. I looked up from my textbook, stunned.

"You attacked a teacher?"

"Do you know he used to be an Auror?"

"Why on earth would you save Draco Malfoy?"

"How much trouble are you in?"

"What spells did you use?"

"I heard you dueled him out of the castle!"

"Well I heard he begged for mercy by the time you were through."

"Well I heard she threw off the Cruciatus curse he put on her first!"

"WHOA!" I bellowed, standing up from my seat at the Ravenclaw table and throwing my hands out to ward the crowd off. They all looked at me eagerly as though I was about to reveal some great secret. And just as I opened my mouth to tell them all to bugger off and take their ridiculous rumors with them, a booming voice shook the Great Hall.

"SAMANTHA EVANS."

Everyone fell still and silent, including the mass of people surrounding me. The student body collectively craned its neck to see the new arrival in the Hall: two Aurors were standing in the entranceway, wands drawn, eyes scanning the room.

"Yes?" I said quietly, my voice carrying effortlessly in the silence of the room. The two Aurors spotted me still encircled by the mob of questioners. They stalked toward me without hesitation. The whole of Hogwarts watched as the men approached.

"Samantha Evans, you are under arrest," one of the men stated into the quietude—there was a collective intake of breath—"for the murder of your father, Mr. Theodore Evans."