Chapter 3
Sneaky Slytherins and Clumsy Cakesniffers
Harry woke up in his four poster and looked at the clock beside his bed.
"Merlin's beard! I'm going to be late for the Quidditch practice meeting!" He yelped. He pulled on his Quidditch jumper and shook Ron and the other boys, trying out for the team.
"Oi!" The dark haired boy said loudly. "Wake up, you lot. We'll be late for the meeting!"
They were up and ready faster than you could say bludger.
They hurried to the pitch and realized that there was already a team there.
And so be it, it was the Slytherin team.
"Bloody hell." Ron muttered.
"I second that." Katie Bell said, approaching the team. "They've already got their team ready. They've also got new equipment again this year. Courtesy of Malfoy's father."
Harry, being the team's captain, walked over to the other team's captain and demanded an explanation.
"Excuse me, what's the big idea? We reserved the pitch this morning." Harry said.
The Slytherin captain, a tall boy with jet black hair that went halfway down his neck, bright green eyes and rectangular glasses turned towards the Gryffindor seeker.
"I beg to differ, Potter. Just because you're a celebrity, doesn't mean you can do as you please. The pitch is ours." He said calmly, his words coated with a slight Gaelic accent.
"No, we reserved it. It's written on the Quidditch board." The Gryffindor insisted.
The corner of the other boy's lips quirked upwards, almost reaching a smile.
"Malfoy, get the note." He said, reaching behind him.
The blonde snorted. "Don't tell me what to do, Bornean." He said shoving a roll of parchment in his gloved hand.
"It's Mr. Bornean-Rasp to you, arrogant fool." He said monotonously, as he unrolled the parchment.
He handed the note to Harry. In a crisp, clear, spiky and familiar penmanship, the following was written.
'I, Professor Severus Snape, allow the Slytherin Quidditch team to reserve the pitch for Tuesday, September 2nd.'
The older Slytherin smirked and Harry sighed.
"Looks like we've lost the pitch for today, guys." He said.
He handed the paper back. "Say, I haven't really seen you around before. What's your name?" Harry asked.
The taller wizard removed his glove and stuck out his hand to shake Harry's.
"The name's Garrett. Garrett Bornean-Rasp, Slytherin Headboy."
Harry shook his hand hesitantly. Garrett reminded him of someone else, but he couldn't put his finger on it.
"Well, I'm Harry. Obviously. See you at the next game."
With that, the Gryffindor team went back to the school to change.
"So, how was Quidditch?" Hermione asked later, during their first Potion's class.
Ron chuckled grimly. "The Slytherins claimed the pitch again. It wasn't all bad though, the captain called Malfoy an arrogant fool."
Hermione made a face. "That sounds awfully familiar. We know someone else who says that all the time." She said.
She was about to gesture to the teacher when she remembered that they had a new teacher.
"It's strange." She said. "Having a new teacher in Potions."
"I was just thinking the same thing." Harry said.
Eliza walked into the room and closed the door behind her. It wasn't Snape's dramatic entrance, but it wasn't far from it.
She stood at the front of the classroom and studied the students.
She wore a black, long-sleeved dress that reached the floor and covered her feet. Attached to her shoulders was an equally dark cloak that dragged behind her like the train of a wedding dress.
Half of her curls were pinned back and out of her face. The rest cascaded down to her waist.
Her lashes, long and thick. Her eyes, pale and mesmerizing.
Her face bore no makeup. She didn't need it.
"This class is so quiet." She said. "You must have been terrified of your previous professor. He has taught you well."
She shifted her weight to her hip and flipped her hair over her shoulder.
With a snap of her fingers, the course's instructions were written on the chalkboard.
The students were amazed. No other teachers used wandless magic, at least not in class.
"As you know, my name is Professor Barron. You will call me by no other name." She said coldly. Her voice sent shivers down the pupil's spines and made the hair on the backs of their necks stand on end.
"I will not tolerate any foolish questions, inappropriate comments, mistakes or messes. If you do any of those things, you will serve detention. Am I clear?" She said ominously.
The young wizards before her nodded.
"What are you waiting for? Get to work!" She barked.
The class went by without a fault. So did the rest of the day.
After supper, Hermione headed to the library to return the stack of books she had borrowed over the summer.
Pushing the door open using her hip, she entered and suddenly collided with something and her books went falling everywhere.
She looked up to see the source of the collision and saw a boy she hardly noticed around school.
"I'm so sorry." She mumbled and bent down to pick up her books.
The boy bent down too and started to help. "That's alright." He said and created a pile of his own and placed them on the librarian's desk.
Madam Pince glared at them. Her precious books had fallen all over the place.
Hermione turned back to the boy. "Say, you're Slytherin's Headboy, right?" She asked.
"That's what this pin says." He said, gesturing to the shiny new pin on his jumper. "The name's Garrett."
"Oh dear, you're bleeding." She said, wincing.
He touched a spot beneath his eye and looked at his fingers. It was indeed covered in blood.
"That's because my glasses dug into my skin when you ran into me. Where are my glasses?" He asked, looking around.
"Over here." The curly haired witch said, walking over to them. They had flown across the room and landed near the wall.
She gave them to him and he put them on.
"Thank you, I think I'll get going and clean this up." He started to head towards the door.
"I'm really sorry." Hermione said nervously.
"Just watch where you're walking next time. 5 points from Gryffindor." He muttered.
Hermione's mouth dropped open. Did he seriously just do that?
She left the library, angrily. How dare he?
Garrett headed down to the dungeons to get to the Slytherin common room.
On his way, he passed by the new instructor.
"Good evening, Professor Barron." He said politely.
"Merlin, what on earth happened to your face?" She asked, concerned.
"I had an encounter with a pile of books and a Gryffindor Prefect. That's what happened to my face." He answered.
"Would you like me to clean that up for you?" She offered.
"I was going to do it myself, but yes please, if possible." He said.
She lead him to her classroom, on their way they ran into Snape heading to his chambers. Even if he changed offices, he preferred to have his personal chambers in the dungeons so that he could keep an eye on his House.
"Miss Barron." He said, acknowledging her presence. "Mr. Bornean-Rasp. Heavens, what happened?" He asked in turn.
Garrett sighed. Again, this question.
"Miss Granger happened." Eliza said. "She ran into him with her books."
Garrett nodded.
Severus pinched the bridge of his nose. "Of course she did. That girl will never change."
Barron's lips quirked upwards the slightest bit.
"Come along, Mr. Bornean-Rasp. I'll fix that right up." She said.
Severus followed, just in case she needed any help.
Garrett sat down on one of the chairs in her office and she placed a cloth in a bowl of warm water.
She dabbed the cloth on the boy's face and removed the blood, until it was clean.
"My, my. It's very close to your eye." She said, inspecting it closely.
She stood up and headed through a black door where her stores were held.
Severus groaned internally. He had had to move his things from there into an empty cupboard near his office.
She returned with a small, square bottle and container filled with a black powder..
She poured some of the liquid from the bottle into the bowl and put the cloth back in it. She emptied the contents of the container into the palm of her hand and sprinkled a bit into a separate bowl and returned to her stores.
"What is that?" Garrett asked, eyeing the powder anxiously.
A small smile appeared on Severus' face. "It's ground clove." He said. "Very clever."
Eliza returned to her spot and dabbed another cloth in the mixture of clove and water and dabbed it on the boy's face.
"It'll work as a numbing agent, so you won't feel the Dittany." She explained to him.
She waited a moment before dabbing the Dittany on his face.
Within moments, the wound healed up nicely and he was free to go.
"All done. See you tomorrow, Mr. Bornean-Rasp."
Garrett touched the spot under his eye. "Thank you. Have a nice evening., Professors."
Professor Barron sent the boy on his way and turned to her coworker.
"Didn't think I could do it, did you?" She asked, haughtily.
The dark wizard shrugged. "Perhaps."
"Don't lie, I was able to read your thoughts since you walked into the hallway where I was talking to the boy. I must say, I'm a little offended that you doubted my ability." She said, mock offended.
"I barely know you, I couldn't help but think the worst." He admitted.
"How many times must I tell you?" She asked, suddenly sad. "We've met before. Many years ago, we met. We used to know each other."
He shook his head. "You must be mistaken. I'd remember someone like you."
A tear rolled down her face and she turned away from him and began to put away her things.
"Oh, Severus. What has become of you?" She whispered under her breath.
She returned to where he was standing and offered him a small, sad smile.
"I am positive that you have mistaken me for someone else." He insisted.
She nodded this time and another tear rolled down her face. "Then how do I know that your patronus is a doe, that your mother's maiden name was Prince, that your father was an alcoholic, that your favourite colour is emerald green, as a child, your best friend was Lily Evans, your favourite food is meatloaf, that you love to go to Honeydukes because it reminds of the woman you were in love with, you drink way too much Firewhiskey to the point where I am certain that your liver will fail, your vault number is 287 and your middle name is Tobias, just like your father. You regret becoming a Deatheater, in reality, you work for Dumbledore. You dread the fact that you are the one who told Lord Voldemort the prophecy and that your birthday is January 9th." She finished and took a deep breath. "I know so much more than all that."
"How do you know all of that?" He asked, unnerved by the fact that it was all true.
"Because you told me!" She shouted. "You took my hands in yours and you said to me; Eliza, you now know everything about me. I have no secrets. But you have plenty."
"I never said that." Snape argued.
"So, then why does it hurt so much? You used to know me, Severus. What happened?" She said, tears gushing down her beautiful face.
He wanted to believe her. He wanted to believe her so badly, but what she was saying made no sense. He would remember all those things.
He was so confused. Had someone tampered with his mind?
Eliza wiped her face and turned away from him. She sat at her desk and opened one of the drawers. She pulled out old, yellowed letters and placed them on the tabletop.
"You sent me these." She said, now suddenly eerily calm.
Severus looked at the envelopes and his eyes widened at the site of his handwriting.
Someone had definitely messed around with his memory. There was no doubt about it.
"Try to remember, please. It wasn't supposed to last this long, he told me it wouldn't."
Severus frowned. He? What did that mean? What wasn't supposed to last this long?
"Please." She whispered, emotionless.
He shook his head and backed up in direction of the door.
"Eliza Barron, who are you?" He asked and left, returning to his chambers.