Chapter 7- To an End Pt 1
The rising sun was mirrored on the lake's glass surface; the giant squid yawning in the early morning rays. The world around was crisp and fresh, frost calmly settled on the shedding trees and the sprawling lawns and it was all held together by the thinning mist. Sat amongst it all was a raven haired girl, who was completely still apart from the slow rises and falls of her chest as curls of steam were breathed out.
She was trapped in her mind with the screaming voices of her parents as they argued yet again, in faded and fresh echoes of her history. They argued mainly about Light and Dark, her and Cedric; how they were raised, what they were told; it was an ongoing cycle. Amos wanted Amelia to stop her seasonal rituals and Amelia refused. They were illegal but there must still be some love between them for Amos not to inform the Ministry, it was either that, or he did not wish for bad light to be shone upon his family.
They couldn't even keep their arguments at home anymore. She had woken up to the sound of their shouting- about Carter this time- and she opened her eyes to see her mother's own, red and puffy, and her father's expression frustrated yet smug. It was immediate how Avril knew that at long last Amos had used the vir regit uxorem vow; a mandatory vow for all wizarding weddings.
"What are you doing up so early, Miss Diggory?" came the smooth, silky voice of Severus Snape. His tone turned scolding. "And without a cloak?"
"Don't," Avril whispered, her voice cracking.
"Don't what?" Snape asked, sneering at her back.
"Don't call me Miss Diggory."
"And why not? That is the correct title for me to address you by, is it not?" Though his tone was curt and impatient, Avril caught the underlining concern that laced it, so heavily masked.
"Because Professor, I am not feeling overly proud to be a Diggory at this point in time," she answered, her pained eyes tearing themselves away from the horizon to look at the potions master. "That is why."
Snape did not answer for a while; instead choosing to study the pained eyes, broken, hopeless expression and the defeated slump of her shoulders.
"Follow me then, Miss Avril," he muttered softly, "You will catch your death out here."
"Maybe the world would be better off I if I did," Avril murmured under her breath.
Whether the potions master heard her or not, she did not know, but either way, she was glad at the lack of response; those words had not been for anyone's ears, perhaps not even for her own.
The corridors were empty apart for the stray ghost and the odd pet, leaving the castle in an eerie, empty silence. The torches' and candles' light flickered and danced on the walls; the shadows playing suit. The morning sun had not yet quite reached the castle, leaving it much how like when Avril had first left her dormitory.
Professor Snape led her down a familiar route, deep into the dungeons. Avril could make a guess at where he was taking her but all thoughts and theories were discarded as they walked past his office door. Avril frowned but did not say anything as they walked deeper still. They halted before a blocked archway with engravings of snakes around its perimeter.
"Draught of Living Death," Professor Snape muttered, and the bricks parted, much like the entrance to Diagon Alley did.
She felt waves of warmth wash over her as she crossed the boundary, not believing what her eyes were telling her. They were in a cosy, small, sitting room that was furnished sparingly in black and Slytherin green. A warm emerald fire was lit but it cast the same glow as fiery orange one in her common room, with a pair of black leather armchairs angled before it. There were a few bookshelves pressed up against the walls and a door that Avril presumed led to other rooms. Snape had taken her to his private quarters.
"Sit," he said, gesturing to the chair he had not taken. "Do you want anything to drink?" he asked, once she had sat.
Avril shook her head in response, and so Snape gave a nod in return. She watched as he wandlessly summoned off his shelves and threw one towards her. She caught it with frightening reflexes, and when she looked back at the potions master he was already immersed in his own book. A small smile tugged against her lips as she opened her own book; an understanding passed between them.
They settled down in their chairs before the fire and read in mutual silence till the sun reached the shadowed walls of the castle.
.
"Where were you this morning?" Harry asked as they walked to Transfiguration.
"It still is morning, Harry," Avril said, rolling her eyes. "And I was down at the lake, watching the sunrise."
"What about breakfast?" Ron bemoaned, as though the very idea of missing a meal was the equivalent of the world's untimely impending doom.
"The world doesn't revolve around food Ronald," Hermione snapped, the newest addition to their merry band of rule breakers. After their poorly thought out rescue, the trio had befriended the bookworm. "But you really should eat something, I've read…"
Rolling her eyes yet again, Avril tuned her out. Truth was, she had had breakfast, but just down in the kitchens; she hadn't wanted to face the crowds and the noise the Great Hall brought. The house elves had been more than understanding.
Transfiguration passed slowly as the first year class attempted to turn their wooden spoons into silver, desert ones. Avril managed on her first try and so spent the rest of the lesson trying not to think about her parents, and instead focus on the plot that they, or rather Harry, Ron and Hermione, had discovered.
Supposedly Snape had been jinxing Harry's broom in the Quidditch Match (that she was most annoyed to have missed, having still been unconscious in the hospital wing with a punctured lung), added to his snooping on Halloween up to the third floor and the trio were certain that Snape was trying to steal whatever Fluffy (the three headed dog) was guarding. Hagrid had let slip the name 'Nicholas Flamel' and had implied that whatever it was, was owned by him.
Avril, however, was not jumping to conclusions and pointing fingers at the potions professor just because they had caught him doing a few suspicious things and the least-liked professor in the school. No. Something told her there was more to the whole thing. Something they weren't getting.
.
Days passed and every spare moment was spent looking for Nicholas Flamel. And each day, Avril felt herself slowly becoming drained. She had a constant buzzing ache in her head, no matter what potions she took; all will she had was being swept away as the chills set in and then the fever and then…
The list lengthened over the weeks, and it wasn't long before November had melted into December, and the first snow storms had begun. Many students found themselves begging Madam Pomfrey for Pepper Up Potions but the girl who needed them most refused to go.
Hermione, Harry and Ron looked at their friend worriedly. Her naturally pale skin was almost translucent and clammy to the touch. She had lost a significant amount of weight off her skinny frame and her eyes were red and sunken in, with dark shadows forming underneath.
"Try and eat something," Hermione pushed, as Avril's shaking hand clutched and empty fork. "You're going to need the strength if you're going to survive double potions."
"She's right you know," Cedric said, sitting down and pulling the twelve-year-old girl onto his lap. "Or better yet, visit the hospital wing."
"Or I could ignore you both and not eat nor go to the hospital wing," Avril argued weakly, resting her burning head on Cedric's chest.
"Mr Diggory, I suggest you take you sister up to the hospital wing immediately, before I begin to deduct points, from both houses."
Everyone jumped and looked up to see the potions professor looming above them.
"Now, Mr Diggory," he snarled.
It was quite simple what happened next. Cedric carried Avril to the hospital wing, where she stumbled into a coma. Madam Pomfrey called for emergency Healers. Avril was taken to St Mungo's and her family was informed to pay their respects.
She was dying.
I have two things to apologise for; a) how long it took me to update and b) how short the chapter is after all this time, especially considering I've already written it once.
I would also like to dedicate this chapter to the memory of Alan Rickman, who died yesterday. As my favourite actor, especially for his excellent acting as Severus Snape, I believe it is deserved, even if it is just a school girl's terrible writing.
And thirdly (I promise this is the last thing), this isn't the last chapter! It'd be a terrible story/series if the main character died 7 chapters in. There will be more, (apologies if you don't actually like the crap I have written, I do not mean to offend your eyes nor mind but I am not forcing you to read this).
