Chapter three: When William meets William
The first Potions private course was set at the beginning of December – Snape could not set in earlier as he had other duties keeping him busy all weekends such as detentions. William did not mind though as he also had plenty of things to do with his homework and sessions of work to train for the final exams.
On that Saturday, the teenager was glad to be busy inside as the snow had fallen down quite heavily for a whole week. Well, he had to reconsider his luck as the Dungeons were like frosting as he felt his teeth choking between them because of the bitter cold reigning in the corridors of the castle undergrounds. Oh my, how the Slytherins could stand it? That was surely why we meet them all covered as if they were going to a North Pole expedition at that time of the year.
'Come in before you turn up into a snowman.' the Potions Master said mezzo voce as he waited for his student at the threshold of a spare classroom, watching him carefully.
The invitation was well received when the boy entered and immediately felt the temperature difference between outside and inside. He then had a look on the room and noted a desk occupied by a bunch of materials, and after a closer look he saw they were the necessary for any apprentice. He therefore peeped at his professor who smiled like a predator ready to strike at any moment now.
'Today, I will pay attention to until what length you know about the procedures. Even if you look quite organized when you attend my classes, I'd like to refrain your knowledge because things in real life are a bit more complex and ordered than in school.' the Potions Master commented while the both of them came to the desk in question. William went to stand on the other side than the young man and had a more precise look at the material. Some of them were unknown from the general audience from Hogwarts, surely they had not to use all of them until NEWTs, the Eaglet thought. He did not know all the names and all the uses that one could make from what laid on the desk. Still that would be mostly fascinating as his gaze came from a sort of puzzlement to a clear fascinating shade – this change noted by the professor who watched his reactions closely.
William fetched his bag's insides to take a pen and a notebook he then put aside the materials and he gazed at the Head of Slytherin for a few seconds to indicate him he was ready to learn more and to reach his own knowledge limits so far. First, the professor asked what he knew from the different objects under study and the boy was surprised to point out a large part of the materials, Snape too was surprised but he did not show it, and had a second thought about his pupil who maybe was a bit more curious than the other dunderheads here and certainly had read a lot of things in the library back then. Secondly went the deducing period about the possible use of the objects he did not know about before correcting him, a bit roughly, and giving him the names the boy hurried to write down on his notebook. William deduced well half the time and when he was wrong, Snape told him he was stupid – as usual so the boy did not mind because rare were the days when the Potions Master did not tell him he was stupid, idiot or light-headed.
The last step before practice was to indicate when he could use those new materials, still it was a bit difficult to imagine these situations when he had only the theory and not the concrete context but the Raven assured the student he would discover those soon in the following private courses.
'Now this had been made, please tell me what do you think you would use as ingredients and materials to brew...' the professor made a flick on his wand and the name of the potion was written on the board. William frowned when he read it: what was called Draught number twenty-two was a bit mysterious but it was only because some potions still were experimental and the professionals did not yet choose a proper name, still debating on it nowadays. The boy tried to remember what it was referred to because he knew there was a tiny book in the library dealing with those Draughts but the last time he checked at it was ages ago and the last things he had to learn somehow disturbed his remembering process. He sighed at the difficulty he was facing otherwise his professor said nothing for a change, silently waiting any answer. Then, when he boy gave in about remembering further details, he only said out loud what he knew – that meant quite nothing.
'I surely expected from you to remember more.' Snape commented dryly while he watched the board to read what was written when William said each ingredient and material. 'Did you have such troubles lately or did you hit a wall last night to damage your brain?'
All of a sudden, the boy froze, clearly that was not what the Head of Slytherin would have imagined as a reaction from now and he decided to put aside his bitter comments and pressed him to explain his behavior. 'What's wrong, Melbourne?' But the Eaglet said nothing, still quite frozen and a bit struck after a quick glance at him again. 'Was there anything happening to you again?' the Potions Master asked, his arms crossed on his chest, looking particularly threatening. 'You have to tell whatever your classmates did against you anytime it occurs, you certainly know that! Don't think you'd waste our time on reporting things like that. You perfectly are aware that all your professors have a close look on you since all those problems had started to impact on your behavior in class!'
Surely the boy had not heard about this before by the way he looked at Snape quite shocked, a horror struck painted on his face to be that much surveyed by his professors.
'I…' he started loudly, stuck in his emotion. 'That… they had…' he trailed off, in the total incapacity of recovering himself, his anxiety starting to overwhelm him.
'Sit down and calm down' the Head of Slytherin commended. 'And breathe, for Merlin's sake or you're going to have a panic attack.' The teenager obeyed, still he closely missed the stool and tried his best to calm down and breathe. Tears were at the edge of his eyes, ready to fall down on his cheeks but he made all he could do not to cry because he would be ashamed to cry that easily and in front of the Dungeons Bat. As the young man still looked concerned and willing to know what occurred, William managed to think properly and finally shyly said 'There were five of them and I was on my way to come back to my Common Room and they tailed me and… I tried not to reply because I remember that if I did so, I would have a detention, so they started to insult me on me being a proper coward then a… Mudblood…' here, he hardly gulped, his tears dangerously shining. 'And they told me that it was because I was a Mudblood and a coward that I was a shame for the wizard community and that I didn't deserve to attend Hogwarts and to possess a wand…' The Eaglet said in a hurry then breathed sharply, pausing, while Snape nodded to encourage him to continue. 'And the words were useless for me to understand my lesson so they hexed me and I wanted to avoid them… and I surely hit the wall a bit too strong because next second I realized I was on the floor and they weren't here anymore.' he finished so low that the professor had to come closer to hear his final words. 'And I had a detention because when I managed to reach my Common Room, the curfew was set and professor McGonagall met me so...' he shrugged.
'Didn't you try to explain her the situation?' Snape asked then, quite astonished he did not try to defend himself towards the Lion.
'I could barely speak' William squeaked miserably.
Silence came after this revelation. Snape did not mind, certain that it would be useful for the boy to recover from his emotion because it would be pointless for him to brew a potion in such a state of mind.
'I will have a word with her later, and with professor Flitwick.' he finally said. 'Could you tell who were the students involved in it?'
The student only negatively nodded and looked down on the materials before him. He had been so shaken that he did not look carefully. He did not even remembered the colors of their House belongings.
Again silence.
'Maybe I only need…' William put aside everything which was useless. 'This?' he then looked back at Snape who silently nodded in agreement. 'But I can't say more about the ingredients, I'm sorry.' the boy concluded, particularly ashamed of failing that much.
The young man waved a few moves with his wand and the list of ingredients completed itself on the board. 'Write them down first. And we will brew it together, so that you will know how a pair can work as you could do in your earlier years. I will only ask you to listen carefully to my instructions and not make any mistake. Understood?'
William nodded, even though he felt a bit upset that he would not work on his own but in regard of his state, that was wiser to proceed this way and he would have a unique experience to work with a Master, surely the best from Great Britain so… he could put aside his upset, right?
Flitwick was exhausted. The Head of Ravenclaw was in his study and had not yet finished his day even though it was ten o'clock in the evening. The week had been particularly rough, between all the sessions of work he surveyed to prepare the fifth and seventh years for their final exams, the courses themselves and the dealing with an escalation of discipline misbehavior towards Melbourne. The night before, he had the surprise to meet Snape at his door, quite upset and worried at the same time, and as far as he witnessed those expressions from a normally blank face, the Charms professor knew at once that there must have been a great problem occurring. He then had the validation of his fear when the Potions Master told him what he succeeded to pull out from the Eaglet during his private lesson and Flitwick only could manage to fall down on his armchair, in a disbelief way. He finally did not sleep that well, scarcely a couple of hours, still quite agitated ones, and had spent his whole Sunday half worried half exhausted – and yet, he would spend a few hours awake tonight. Even if the Dark Lord had fallen a few months earlier, society, and students here, were still acting like they were stuck in his reign of terror. Nevertheless, this was not the only motive pupils had to harass Melbourne. With time, some had noted he had the perfect profile of the scapegoat and had since then decided to bully him, only because he was so easily to frighten and reach.
Before coming back to his study, Flitwick had decided to see him privately to talk and he just received tears, sobs and sniffles for a whole hour, as the Eaglet was so desperate and defenseless. It seemed the Heads of House's general warning to their charges had been useless and that made the adult so angry and powerless. He did not know what he could do to calm down everyone and to help Melbourne so far. The boy had that capacity to escape his professors too, so that complicated things further. And now, as tired as he was, a knot of worry did not release his stomach. He therefore strongly hoped Snape's private lessons would help somehow, as they had nothing else by now – apart from the idea to invite the teenager to leave Hogwarts and follow school from home with the assistance of preceptors, but he had no home, not a real one, like others. His parents had been assassinated by Death Eaters back in December 1978 and his family being Muggle, from whom the Unspeakables had erased some memories, had refused to take their sibling with them. The poor boy had since lived in an orphanage and did not fit in it at all. He had admitted last year he felt out of place, barely spoke to anyone, had not made any friends, avoided the adults and missed home, his parents, his cat and his routine so much he always spent his days outside to forget where he was for a couple of hours.
The Head of Ravenclaw was hitting a huge and painful wall by now, Melbourne's situation being a real nightmare for his professors, and him particularly. He sighed and finally gave in for tonight. He had to try to sleep or he would face a whole week with his condition and his exhaustion would not help to think properly at all. He closed his file before putting it in the furniture behind him and lit off all the candles and the fireplace and left to join his apartments. The knot was still there…
'Ten points from Ravenclaw and a detention this Saturday' the Potions Master snapped while William sighed and rolled his eyes, ready to argue but held his tongue, his wand still in mid-air. 'I know copying lines from the rules paragraph in question won't help you to understand your misbehavior. Casting spells outside the classes is forbidden, Melbourne.' he reminded the teenager a bit strongly to scare him to his wits, so that he put back his wand in his robe's pocket and looked down to his shoes shyly, his desire to argue disappeared at once.
Snape looked down too and noted the shoelaces were unmade. He then commented it with a smirk. Was the boy so light-headed he was ready to hurt himself from the most idiotic manner? After, the adult conveyed his dark eyes towards the other students with whom Melbourne was fighting. How great this time was! Gryffindors. He threateningly smiled at them who said nothing from now on, his reputation already made in the castle.
'Ten points each and detention too but tonight. You will understand what it is for me as a torture to clean your cauldrons when you're so stupid brats to miss simple potions!' he added dryly, particularly upset.
This time he had witnessed a bit of the fight and he had seen Melbourne merely tried, tried, to protect himself or to respond back while he was assaulted by four of … brats – to remain polite.
The bunch of them started to protest and lie, pretending it was all the Eaglet's fault and so on and so forth.
'Enough!' Snape came closer to them so that they could clearly shake from fear. 'If you want to protest, fetch your Head and I will proceed to another series of detentions! Understood? Now, disappear or I transform you into snake skin and use you in my brewing!'
The culprits quickly ran the opposite, surely to complain to McGonagall, but the Head of Slytherin did not apprehend her possible reaction, certain she would immediately agree with him as far as she would know who was involved in all this mess.
'And you, didn't you try not to do anything?' growled the professor, meeting again the Eaglet's face which had turned still. 'You are so exasperating! If you were that clever you would have understood that you would be punished as well as your bullies as far as the rules are broken!'
'I… wanted to avoid the wall, sir.' the boy finally spoke – to his shoes.
Said sir sighed, holding his nose with his fingers, thinking he would have a headache soon, his patience very low by now.
'Go away. Now.' he demanded, out of his nerves. Melbourne obeyed at least, he thought while the light-headed dunderhead left the corridor, in that manner he would have wished to be invisible.
The previous mischief had been made on Tuesday, and the following day an incident reminded Snape too much vivid memories at once during lunch time. The brats were noisy as usual and the professors looked after them closely in any case any of them would misbehave while having chats between them and eating. Being a professor was a sport any way, no matter people would say on the privileges from their statute. Let them survive around a bunch of brats and they'd see.
While Melbourne sat down as his usual place which had been kept by Elizabeth, it had seemed she started to talk to him again since the Potion incident, and he had started to fill his plate with what was proposed on the table when an unknown red light crossed the way to explode said plate, the food contained in it splashing everywhere it could, mostly on said Melbourne. A few Ravenclaws stood up in a row, benches making a sounding reverberating noise in the room, their wands ready to strike back. Whatever they were angry at their fifth year classmate, they still had that unsaid rule which consisted in defending one another despite the circumstances. After the plate, the glass full of water exploded too and a seventh year quickly aimed at the unknown author of the attack with a Leg-Locker Curse. A great thumb could be heard from that and the culprit finally revealed himself. The mischief Slytherin sixth year did not give up that soon as he only spat that Melbourne was only a coward and that he deserved to die like his parents, while Dumbledore, Snape and Flitwick came down from their table to manage the situation before it could turn worse.
'Enough.' the Headmaster demanded threateningly, which was very rare coming from the kind and lenient man. 'You, up and all of you there, please stop hexing him!'he addressed first to the Slytherin boy then to the Ravenclaw ones.
All quite obeyed as soon as their Headmaster had spoken, nevertheless a quick move came towards the professors and the Slytherin student suddenly had been knocked off. A few seconds was necessary for everybody to understand what had just been happened. Melbourne was on his feet, shaking from wrath and holding his right fist painfully. He must have stroke hard to knock off an elder and stronger and heavier boy though.
'Melbourne.' the Charms professor exclaimed disbelievingly. 'That's not such a thing to do, mostly in front of your professors!'
The teenager bit his lower lip, tears at the edge of his eyes, breathing heavily as if he had run several miles.
'No one… dares talking about my parents like… he did.' he succeeded in saying, teeth clenched in order to try to control himself now his whole body was visibly shaking. 'They didn't deserve… to die at all!'
'Now, now, calm down' his Head pressed him, holding him by the shoulder, while Snape was facing a broken and bleeding nose charge who continued to insult Melbourne for a bunch of generations under his breath.
'What am I constantly telling you?' the Potions Master snapped to his student who stopped at once, suddenly afraid of the young man. 'I daresay you're very stupid to act like a perfect Troll because if you continue this way, your parents would be ashamed of you… Unless they are imprisoned soon, as it is expected from them, as far as their behaviors are concerned, so that they won't care about you at all.'
'Severus, that's not such a thing to tell to one of his students, whatever their background is.' Dumbledore commented half-voiced.
'I deal with those people like I wish, Headmaster.' his employee replied back in a sharp tone. 'They only understand threats, so I control them this way. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a lesson to put in his head far enough he would not behave anymore.' he finished, pulling the sixth year who complained like a child during the whole time they had to take to come out from the dinner room.
'What kind of lesson?' Flitwick dared to ask, a bit frightened of any silly idea, as far as he knew Snape had a lot of imagination due to his former relations.
'Nothing illegal, don't worry.' the Headmaster reassured him. 'He wouldn't dare so. He knows perfectly how conventional society works.' he added as the Head of Ravenclaw peeped at him a bit non confidently.
Now, both men dealt with calming down the whole students who were commenting in a fussy what they had witnessed and Melbourne who barely moved at all, not wishing to come back to eat his lunch and act as if nothing had occurred.
Noting that, the Charms professor thought better to take him to come out and be away from everybody's attention. Both fetched their refugee in the adult's study. The sudden calmness made William's ears ringing from pain. He therefore let it aside as his breathing slowly became a bit more normal now that he was somehow in security in a place that did not demand too much stimulation. Indeed, the fireplace did but the teenager finally managed to be used to it as he sometimes crept in an armchair close to the one in his Common Room. He came back to present when he heard his Head inviting him to sit down. Better if he obeyed immediately, considering back what he had done in the dinner room.
Next Saturday, William spent his whole day in the Dungeons, in the usual spare classroom Snape and him used for his private lessons.
First, he had his lesson which lasted until two in the afternoon, the young man had wished to learn him not to behave like he did last Wednesday in his proper way so that the teenager was properly exhausted when he had his detention to attend. Otherwise, he was not alone anymore this time, as a first year came in at around three, quite impressed and afraid. The boy was quite tiny, his hair was a strong red and straight, his complexion pale enough as some red-haired people were, and his name…
'Mr Weasley, have a seat here.' the Potions Master commended the said Weasley with a gesture of his hand. The boy, a Gryffindor now that the Eaglet paid attention to the colors present on his robes, followed the order and sat at the second row of desks on his elder's left side.
Then both students exchanged a look and the Lion seemed to recognize William all of a sudden.
'Oh, you're the guy who punched a Slytherin, right?' he said as if he were talking about weather. His tone destabilized William a bit who glared at him, quite astonished. What had he to say, then, to that kind of words? He tried to remember what his parents had taught him about conversations and politeness but nothing came to him at all.
'I'd have preferred he hadn't.' Snape snapped sharply as he came to them in complete silence, so that Weasley almost jumped off from his stool. 'So, Mr Weasley you're going to remake your potions you missed this week and Mr Melbourne… you're brewing the potion we studied this morning.'
William dared to gaze at his professor. That would take the whole afternoon! He surely had been so readable that the Head of Slytherin smirked with delight. 'Now.' he finally said as none of them already moved to prepare their ingredients and material.
When both of them had pretty well advanced in their brewing, the Gryffindor handed the Ravenclaw a hand the last shook politely.
'I'm Bill by the way' the younger introduced himself. 'William in fact, but everybody calls me Bill for short.'
'Hi, my name is William too.' William replied with a smile. 'Do you know you have the same name as four great kings of Great Britain?' he then asked while Bill frowned – oh, he must have been raised in a wizard family, suddenly the Eaglet thought. 'Sorry, drop it. It's only Muggle background.' he finally muttered partly ashamed and his cheeks turned red.
'Oh, you know, my father loves everything about Muggles, so I think you'd better exchange a few words with him rather than me.' Bill answered back, not at all ashamed from his father curious interest, a smile on his face. That positive sign encouraged the elder to face him afterwards.
'If you could stop chatting, that'd be better if you don't want to miss your potions.' Snape soon reminded them where they were, and both tucked their heads between their shoulders and said in a same voice 'yes, sir.'
The Lion soon finished his potion from which he took the equivalent of what could contain a phial before he handed it to the professor at his desk. Next, he greeted William, said goodbye to the Potions Master and left. After the younger departure, the young man got up and came back to Melbourne's place to ask him where he was in his brewing.
'Adding bat eyes, sir.' he said in a murmur, all concentrated in his task, throwing said bat eyes in the cauldron and quickly plunged his big wooden spoon to brew twelve time in clockwise turn, before waiting five seconds and turning the opposite for seven times and let the potions rest ten minutes as it was indicated. Snape then cast a Tempus to control the time and was satisfied by the respect of it Melbourne had. 'Better eat something as this potion requires a lot from your magical core and better obey as you look particularly pale.' he muttered before demanding a House-Elf to come in. The Elf Apparated with a sounding 'pop!' and knelt profoundly when he gazed at the Potions Master and croaked a 'Sir. What does Sir need?' The young man held his tongue, still ill at ease with the way those creatures acted with wizards and witches. 'Are cucumber sandwiches right? So, a plate of cucumber sandwiches and tea.' 'This will be done as Sir demanded.' the House Elf inclined again before Disapparating in another 'pop!' and Apparating again with ordered plate and tea tray two minutes later and left without a word. The young man never had been bred to be served. He had to obey his drunk father who stroke him with whatever he held in his hand from time to time. His mother had been too shy, too gentle, too afraid to ever try anything to change the situation – and she died when younger Snape was fifteen. Moreover, he had barely noticed the Elves when he was a student here. He had to meet Lucius Malfoy at their Manor when he wanted to work for the Dark Lord that he had been astonished about the creatures' conditions – Well, Dobby surely was bad treated like a proper slave, even worse all considerations made as he was kicked by his master if he ever made something that made Malfoy angry.
Even though William was not hungry he picked a few sandwiches under Snape's scrutiny, reminding himself he had no lunch earlier and did not want to miss his potion due to his lack of consideration about his condition. Then, after the ten minutes had passed, he continued his work.
He ended the potion at around seven, exhausted to death. He only had imagined that a Master life would be that tiring but now he could relate, because theory was as requiring as practice in this discipline. While he was cleaning his stuff, the Potions Master took this by now calm period to say what had just popped out in his mind, knowing whom student was here: 'I strongly suggest you taking a rest tomorrow and if you feel very low, go to the Hospital Wing at once. I'm serious, Melbourne.' as said Melbourne started to roll his eyes. 'There had been accidents and even deaths because Masters or apprentices had neglected the need to rest.' Snape insisted dryly. The boy finally nodded in silence. He better had to follow his piece of advice after all.
The young man had been right from the beginning as William immediately fell asleep as soon as his head reached his pillow.
Screams. Screams everywhere. He saw nothing as if his eyes were blind or himself drown in a peculiar heavy fog which distorted images and odors, but not the screams. They were high pitched, expressed all distress and fear and pain. And he could do nothing but hear those, his fear soon transformed into powerlessness and anger from it, while the screams reverberated all around him. He gulped with difficulty and tried to move on, his ill at ease steps close to make him fall as if he did not know how to walk but the fog did not help at all. Then, he realized the presence of his wand in his pocket. He took it in his right hand in a strong hold and cast a Lumos. That was useless, totally useless. He could barely see two steps before him, still it was better than nothing. He continued to walk in the possible direction from where the screams went, peeing on his right then on his left, anxiety hold in a knot in his stomach. These screams were so realistic and vivid that he soon felt his cheeks wet because of tears that started to roll on them. They reminded him of that terrible night he had wished he never remember until death, but he could not.
All of a sudden, a dark shadow passed by on his left side and he startled, his heart beating fast, almost erratically, against his chest. He had just sensed it when another shadow went so close to him that the air current created made him fall down on the ground. Taken by surprise, he hit it a bit violently and was sure by now with the strange metallic taste in his mouth that he was bleeding. He wiped his face with the sleeve of his shirt. His lips and teeth hurt a lot but it was quite nothing.
Kill, hissed a voice. Kill. Kill them all. He jumped on his feet, cold sweat moisturizing his forehead and temples. He was sure of knowing that voice and his fear became worse. His body so tense from the beginning started to shake. He could not move anymore, a cry blocked in his throat. The screams were deafening by now and he could not stand it at all. He wished he could call out his mom, but she was the one screaming, he was certain of it.
Now that he knew where he was and what he was reminiscent of, he succeeded in pulling himself out from this nightmare, otherwise he could not escape from that horrible image, now clear, from his parents dead at his feet.
Wet cheeks against the pillow while he woke up were the proof he had had another nightmare. William took his time before he opened his eyes and rolled on his back, his precipitated breathing still aching him as if he was living that night terror. He remembered his parents' assassination very accurately but what happened next far less. Nobody knew that after the three Death Eaters had come in at their house had decided to play hide-and-seek with him for a very long time, before they had been stopped by suspicious and threatening noises from outside. The fact that the Dark Mark was shining above the roof of that cottage had attracted attention from the neighborhood, as some wizard families lived there. Someone surely had called the Aurors to come as fast as they could so that saved younger William from death – inevitably. The boy could not remember anyone's features, anyone's words, how they dealt with policemen as they had been called too, by the Muggle neighbors. The case had lasted four days and William buried his parents on December the thirty-first. Some members from his family had come but none of them had exchanged a few words with him. They had just ignored him and silently cried over his parents' grave. Of course they did not recall he was a wizard but somehow, they had kept in mind that their family situation, their family had burst into pieces because of him. They did not like him, they denied him, some even hated him.
Totally shaken, William had preferred to keep for himself the child game. No one had witnessed it and he was as horrified as ashamed of that, consequently the official version that spread until his professors' ears was the one stated by the Bureau of Aurors: his parents had been killed in front of his eyes, nothing more.
The teenager looked absently at the top of the ceiling, trying to calm down his breathing and his mind, still shaken by his nightmare. What time was it? He could not wait a more decent hour to get up, so he did so, covered himself up with a plaid and walked the stairs down to reach the Common Room, then coming out the Ravenclaw Tower and fetch the Hospital Wing at once, remembering Snape's warning as he felt as tired as dizzy.
Madam Pomfrey did not reproach him to wake her up at four in the morning. She took time to receive him properly, demanded him to reach a bed and to lay down while she cast some diagnosis spells and finally muttered under her breath that he had better to come down here as his fever and low beatings could have knocked him unconscious on the ground. The matron finally gave the boy a Pepper-Up later in the morning and wrote a note to professor Snape since the Eaglet told her that it was certainly due to his busy Saturday but that he had preferred to follow his piece of advice.
For once, the Potions Master admitted the student had been cautious and not too stubborn to act like an idiot with his health so he sighed and visited him at around noon to witness he was quite okay.
