Ch9: Until Next Time
You never came out the way you came in.
- Francis Spufford, The Child That Books Build
"Next add the Hellebore," Snape whispered from behind Renesmee. She dropped in that ingredient and whispered, "What next?"
She was barely breathing as she concentrated on the cauldron in front of her. "Stir counter clockwise five times, then three times clockwise. It should turn Viridian and begin to expel sweet-smelling vapors. That is when you add the minced marigold roots and the powdered snake fang."
Renesmee carried out the instructions exactly as they had been given. Snape paced around her, ever watchful. He conversed frequently at odd intervals. She knew he was testing her, trying to break her concentration. Little did he know how vampiric her mind was; with her expanded mental capacity and capabilities, she could hold three conversations and analyze something else as she did this. She let out a shaky breath as she waited for him to continue.
"After you have done these things, stir it as you did before, five to three, then let it simmer for five minutes."
When the hybrid finished, she stood back to admire her work before sitting down at a desk. Snape continued to pace up and down in an agitated manner. "Sit down, sir, please. There's no need to be so anxious."
He continued pacing as he spoke without looking up. "It's not you I'm worried about at the moment, Cullen, it's Potter."
Renesmee remained silent, hoping to glean more off of her mentor. He had unwittingly expressed his concern. He said he wasn't worried about her this moment, not that he wasn't ever worried or that he never worried. However, to her great disappointment, he said no more. He merely checked her potion, approving it at first glance.
Taking out his wand, he asked, "Do you want to practice dueling, Cullen? I know you know all of the basics." Renesmee nodded, pulling out her own wand. Snape and she cleared away the desks and moved away from the simmering cauldron. They faced each other and bowed. "Stupefy!" they cast at the same time. "Expelliarmus!" Renesmee cried. Snape blocked her easily. "Is that all you've got, Cullen?"
"Serpensortia!" Renesmee cast, surprising Snape as the snake appeared. "That's much better, Cullen. Did you know we teach sixth-years that spell here," he drawled idly. He waved his wand and turned the snake into a cloud of black smoke. She in turn changed the smoke into a snake of fire that he dissipated before it could strike.
"Rictusempra!" Snape said silkily. As she doubled over he said almost tediously, "Incarcerous."
Renesmee was still shaking as Snape came to stand over her. He rolled her onto her back with his foot. Staring down at her, he sneered, "Tut-tut Cullen, reading the spells clearly isn't enough."
"Which is why I practice, too," she retorted. The ropes binding her turned into wriggling snakes as she used nonverbal, wandless magic to free herself. She thought Avifors! forcefully and turned the serpents into small birds that went after Snape, who changed them into flying daggers. Renesmee summoned a shield and felt the daggers sink in. Of course Snape would never harm her or get too carried away.
They always sparred like this, as she was a willing and worthy opponent now. There was a flash of white light as she sent the stinging hex at him, which he deflected. He used the Disarming Charm to knock her shield away and the Knockback Jinx to send her flying. Her wand flew from her hand as her back slammed against the wall. She used a wandless Summoning Charm and an impatient wrist movement to regain her wand. Snape, who had been advancing, stopped and crossed his arms, his eyebrows raised. "Won't you give up yet, Cullen?" he asked in his silkiest voice. "Never," she said. He rolled his eyes. "Be that as it may, the hour is growing late. It would be inappropriate for you to linger any longer. Make haste back to your bed. Good night, Miss Cullen."
He bottled some of her potion and they cleaned up before he locked his classroom and they went separate ways. Renesmee took her time walking back, hand trailing along the wall. She would miss Snape when she went home, along with her other friends. Harry had been wrong, she thought with grim satisfaction, for it had been Quirrell, not Snape, who had been the avaricious would-be thief. She had told Snape about seeing Quirrell on Halloween, and where, carefully avoiding mentioning Fluffy the demon dog or his rescue from him. Harry, Ron, and Hermione had gone in to face the perpetrator. They were all all-right, though Quirrell was dead, his pitiless master indifferent over his sacrifice.
Harry was in the Hospital wing, unconscious. She had visited him with the others. The whole school knew of his escapades. Sadly, he had missed the Quidditch match that day. Without him, Gryffindor was flattened by Ravenclaw, and Slytherin had seemingly won the House Cup, earning her teasing from Snape. She responded by pointing out that Potter made the team, him being their key player, which made him scowl and change the subject. Jacob had not been seen around for a while, though she knew he was somewhere nearby sulking.
She would be staying with her family for the first half of the summer, then with Maggie and Kiku the half before school so she could leave for school with them.
At the feast, Dumbledore awarded points to the Trio and Neville, who had apparently tried to stop them from going, allowing Gryffindor to receive the Cup instead. Renesmee's brown eyes found the black ones she was looking for. She smiled triumphantly at Snape, who glared back at her, tight-lipped and angry at the sudden turn of events in their favor. She laughed: it was so like him to be a sore-loser. The train ride seemed to fly by. She exchanged farewells and Mr. Fujioka took her home, where she fell into her family's arms one member at a time. Next year couldn't arrive soon enough for Renesmee Carlie Cullen. All was well, at least for the moment. There was always tomorrow, for tomorrow was a new day full of possibilities.