Chapter 9: Snake Pranks
September 1991
Hogwarts
Mary
Mary had never believed that she would meet a boy she hated more than Dudley, but that was before she met Draco Malfoy. Not only was he just as spoiled and whiny as Dudley, she was convinced that it was he who had started the rash of bullying and pranks that began in her second week at Hogwarts. He wasn't the only one who participated, of course. Almost all of the first and second-years did, and even some of the older students. But she was certain it was him, behind it all.
It had started small, their spat. On Sunday afternoon, while she and Hermione and Lilian were working on their first week's homework in the Library, Draco had come up to them (flanked by Crabbe and Goyle, as always) and said something insulting about Hermione. He could see why Mary and Lilian kept her around – even …muggle scum… (he'd had to think for a moment to find an equally insulting word that wasn't mudblood) could be useful if it would do their homework for them.
Hermione, of course, had insulted him right back, in a hissing whisper that didn't get her kicked out of the library. Then Draco tried to hex her and she ducked under the table, and Madam Pince had thrown the boys out before things could go any further. Mary and Lilian had decided (well, Lilian had decided and convinced Mary), later, that it was nearly as much an insult to them as to Hermione, implying that they needed a kept Ravenclaw to do their work for them. So they needed to get revenge… somehow.
An opportunity presented itself in the form of their upcoming first-ever flying lesson. The Gryffindors and Slytherins had flying lessons together, every other Friday afternoon. All the first-years had been buzzing about the upcoming lesson since it was added to their schedules Monday morning. Draco, in particular, had been bragging about all the time he'd spent on a broom, and telling long, boastful stories that always seemed to end with him narrowly escaping Muggles in helicopters.
Mary was somewhat surprised that Draco even knew what a helicopter was, and pointed this out to Lilian, who promptly started a rumor in Slytherin that Draco secretly liked muggle action films. He denied it, of course, and started a counter-rumor that Lilian was a muggle-lover. Lilian raised a graceful eyebrow and told Pansy Parkinson (who confronted her about it in the Common Room Wednesday evening) that she didn't hate muggles, and in the words of one of her favorites, perhaps dear Draco didst protest too much, which only made him angrier.
Thus, going into the flying lesson, Mary and Lilian were somewhat ahead of Draco in their quiet little battle of insults and rumors. The flying lesson itself represented what Hermione later called a major point of escalation.
Most of the purebloods, especially those who lived out in the country, had flown before, and had flying stories similar to Draco's, though they were much more believable. Ron Weasley, for example, said he almost hit a muggle in a giant kite once, which Hermione said had to be a hang-glider. Surprisingly (or perhaps not, given the number of accidents Mary had witnessed in the Great Hall and Potions), Neville Longbottom had never been on a broom at all. Tracy Davis and Millicent Bulstrode lived in London proper, so they couldn't really fly very far without actually being seen by Muggles, and had never gotten much practice, but at least they had tried it before. Lilian said that she had been flying since she was about four. The Moons lived near Exmoor, and her father had taught all of the kids to fly in more isolated areas of the park, where no Muggles were likely to see them. Hermione had obviously never flown, nor had Dean Thomas or Justin Finch-Fletchley.
Mary was excited: She had flown for the first time over the summer and was very much looking forward to doing it again. She spent two whole days being jealous of Hermione, who had her first lesson on Wednesday morning. Hermione (who had been very nervous beforehand and spent all of Monday and Tuesday looking up flying tips in the library) had said that it was a bit scary, and she hadn't dared to too high, but that it had been alright. Mary had scoffed at Hermione for being such a scaredy cat, and went into a bit of a rhapsody over her one and only solo flight, which she considered her best memory to date.
At breakfast on Thursday, Neville's grandmother sent him a Remembrall. Draco, whom Mary and Lilian had been keeping a close eye on after the incident between Lilian and Pansy in the Common Room the evening before, tried to steal it, or break it or something, but Professor McGonagall intervened before he could do anything. The girls were too far away to hear exactly what was said, but Draco dropped the glass sphere onto the Gryffindor table with a thunk, and sloped away, Crabbe and Goyle following (slightly menacingly) in his wake.
Finally, the appointed time arrived, and the Slytherins made their way out to the Quidditch pitch for their first flying lesson. Nineteen brooms were laid out and waiting by the time they arrived, but the Gryffindors were nowhere in sight. They waited quietly, whispering about Quidditch and flying stories, and looking around the pitch and under the stands at the lawns and the Forest, which was swaying darkly in the breeze.
The Gryffindors arrived, and Madam Hooch appeared a moment later. Her hair was shorter than the last time Mary had seen her, and spiky. With her yellowish eyes, it made her look like some kind of bird of prey.
"Well, what are you all waiting for?" she barked. "Everyone stand by a broomstick. Come on, hurry up."
There were two rows of brooms, one of nine and the other ten. There were eleven Slytherins, so there was a bit of a scuffle and power play as they sorted themselves out along the longer row, no one wanting to have to go stand by the Gryffindors or admit defeat by moving a broom to the Slytherin row. Mary secured a spot between Lilian and Blaise, opposite the Gryffindor Patil twin. Tracy ended up having to stand next to Ron Weasley, at the end of the Gryffindor row.
"Stick out your right hand over your broom," called Madam Hooch at the front, "and say 'Up!'"
"Up!" everyone shouted.
Mary's broom jumped into her hand at once, but it was one of the few that did. Lilian's hadn't moved at all, and Blaise's had gotten about halfway to his hand, and then kind of wandered off course and floated at his knee. Mary heard Lilian grumble something about ancient piece-of-crap school brooms, before she snapped her fingers at it and snapped "Broom! Up!" again, like she was commanding Fang. This time it obeyed.
Once everyone had their brooms in hand, Madam Hooch showed them how to mount without sliding off the end, and walked up and down the rows correcting their grips. Mary and Lilian shared a smile when they heard Malfoy whining about how "my father says…" Madam Hooch simply informed him (loudly enough for everyone else to hear) that he had been doing it wrong for years, then.
"Now, when I blow my whistle, you kick off from the ground, hard," said Madam Hooch. "Keep your brooms steady, rise a few feet, and then come straight back down by leaning forward slightly. On my whistle. Three… Two…"
But Neville, nervous and jumpy and probably frightened of being left behind, pushed off hard before the whistle… And then he couldn't stop.
"Come back, boy!" the instructor shouted, but Neville was rising straight up like a cork shot out of a bottle… twelve feet… twenty feet. Mary saw his scared white face look down at the ground falling away, saw him gasp, slip sideways off the broom and…
WHAM. A thud and a nasty crack, and Neville lay facedown on the grass in a heap. His broomstick was still rising higher and higher, and started to drift lazily toward the Forbidden Forest and out of sight.
Madam Hooch was bending over Neville, her face as white as his.
"Broken wrist," Mary heard her mutter. "Come on, boy, it's all right. Up you get."
She turned to the rest of the class.
"None of you is to move while I take this boy to the hospital wing! You leave those brooms where they are, or you'll be out of Hogwarts before you can say 'Quidditch.' Come on, dear."
Neville, his face tear-streaked, clutching his wrist, hobbled off with Madam Hooch, who had her arm around him.
No sooner were they out of earshot than Malfoy burst into laughter.
"Did you see his face, the great lump?"
The rest of Malfoy's little clique joined in. Even Lilian was laughing. Mary gave her a reproachful look. It was cruel to make fun of Neville like that. And broken wrists hurt.
"What?" asked Lilian "Why are you looking at me like that?"
Mary moved closer to her. No one else was standing by their brooms anymore. "It just seems… mean, is all," she said.
("Shut up, Malfoy," snapped the Patil twin who had been across from Mary.)
"Oh, Mary… It's just… well, you might not have noticed, I guess, but wizards are a lot more durable than muggles," she explained quietly. "I mean, look at Quidditch. Bludgers would kill a muggle, probably. But magic protects you, unless you're too scared. I mean, you don't really get hurt a lot of the time, if you don't believe you can get hurt."
("Ooh, sticking up for Longbottom?" said Pansy. "Never thought you'd like fat little crybabies, Parvati.")
"So? He broke his wrist. It's not funny."
"No," the taller girl said with another giggle. "The funny part is that Longbottom should know that, and he got hurt anyway. It's kind of pathetic, you have to admit."
Mary crossed her arms and said nothing. It was pathetic, when Lilian put it that way, but she didn't think pathetic things were particularly funny, either. She turned her attention to the fight developing between Draco, Pansy, and the Gryffindors. Draco had just grabbed something shiny from the ground.
"Look! It's that stupid thing Longbottom's gran sent him."
"Give that back, Malfoy!" Ron shouted, his face nearly as red as his hair.
Malfoy smiled nastily. "I think I'll leave it somewhere for Longbottom to find… how about… up a tree?"
"Give it here!" Dean yelled, standing up next to Ron, but Malfoy had leapt onto his broom and taken off. He hadn't been lying. He did know how to fly. Hovering twenty feet off the ground, he called, "Come and get it, Weasel!"
Mary had been biting her lip indecisively, but she thought that this had gone far enough. "No, don't," she said to Ron, who was about to kick off from the ground. "I'll talk to him." She grabbed her own broom, ignoring Lilian's whispered "What are you doing?" and kicked off herself.
It was just as wonderful as it had been the first time. Air rushed past her, through her hair, whipping her robes out behind her. She felt a rush of joy as she pulled her broom up level with Draco's. He looked stunned.
"Give it over," she said, quietly enough that the people on the ground couldn't hear. "You're just going to get Slytherin in trouble."
"What do you know, Potter?" Malfoy shouted at her. He shot away across the Quidditch pitch. She followed him.
"I know you're going to get caught. It doesn't take that long to get back from the hospital wing. And the Gryffindors are definitely going to tell on you."
"So what if they do?" Draco called out, tauntingly.
Mary thought for a moment, then shrugged. She couldn't think of anything else to do, but at least she could say she had tried to stop him. Maybe all of Slytherin wouldn't get punished, just Malfoy. That would be fine. "Guess it's your problem, then," she finally responded in a resigned tone, and headed back to the other students.
"Did you get it?" Ron demanded as soon as she was back on the ground.
Malfoy was still hovering, closer now, so that he could hear what was going on. "No," she said, "I tried, but he wouldn't give it back."
Pansy laughed at her, and Millicent and Tracy followed suit. Lilian was still looking at her like she had done something incredibly stupid, while Daphne talked to Blaise and Theo. The three of them apparently ignored the situation, but Mary was sure they were really paying attention. Vinnie and Greg were debating quietly whether they should do anything or if Draco would want to do whatever this was alone.
Ron growled and mounted his own broom. Draco backed away suddenly as Ron rose into the air, then grinned brightly and started leading the red-headed Gryffindor on a merry chase around the nearer set of goal-hoops. Mary supposed he was pleased to be the center of attention. She quietly explained what had happened to Lilian, and that she had done it because she didn't want Slytherin to get in trouble.
Draco and Ron were still up by the goal-hoops playing follow-the-leader when Madam Hooch reappeared on the scene, blowing her whistle shrilly and shouting about points and what the bloody hell had they thought they were doing.
The Slytherins remained silent, volunteering nothing (because nothing they could say would help), while the Gryffindors went to explain what had happened in a babble of voices, and eventually, what became clear was this: Malfoy had taken Neville's Remembrall and flown off with it. Potter tried to get it back and failed. Weasley was just trying to do the right thing for his friend.
Conveniently enough, no one mentioned that Mary had also been on a broom, though she didn't know if that was because the Gryffindors thought it was obvious that she must have been, or they didn't think she deserved to be in trouble for trying to get her stupid housemate to give back the damned trinket. Perhaps it was a bit of each, she thought, looking around at them.
When Malfoy finally got back to the ground and found all of the Slytherins blaming him alone for losing them twenty house points, and none of them scorning Mary for trying to protect ickle Longbottom's property, he was fuming. Mary was sure her smug look didn't help, but she had told him so.
That was why she was certain that Malfoy was behind the "pranks" that started that very evening.
The first was a jinx which hit her in the back as she left the Great Hall after dinner, and made her unable to speak for the rest of the evening, as Lilian didn't know the counter-jinx, and Morgana and her friends weren't around to help.
On Saturday, someone swapped her soap with a trick bar of soap that turned into tadpoles when she got it wet.
On Sunday, she went through half the day before Hermione pointed out that someone had made the Slytherin crest on her robes read "Shithead" instead of Slytherin, and then at dinner someone had hit her with a Tripping Jinx, which threw her into Marcus Flint, the Quidditch captain. He shoved her away, and she fell to the ground, hard, in front of the entire school. Flint got a couple of glares for treading on the edge of House Rule No. 1, but since she was a clumsy first-year and not really a fully accepted member of the House, and he was an upperclassman Quidditch star, no one actually said anything.
On Monday when she walked into the Hall for breakfast, her robes were charmed or hexed or something to start shedding glitter everywhere, and she had to go change, which made her late for her first class.
On Tuesday, she received a Howler, an awful red envelope enchanted to scream at her. Several people had obviously shouted into it at the same time, since it wasn't any recognizable voice, but just an embarrassing, attention-drawing cacophony of angry, taunting sounds. At lunch, Derrick Bole had distracted her while someone slipped a potion into her drink that had her hallucinating all through afternoon lessons. That was when she realized that the upperclassmen were involved.
On Wednesday, she was caught by another Tripping Jinx, this one right at the top of the second-floor main staircase, between classes. If an older Hufflepuff boy hadn't caught her, she would have done a header right down them. That was when she realized that this was dangerous, and that she had to do something about it. Later, away from the noise of the corridors between classes, she realized that someone had put a charm on her boots so that they meowed whenever she took a step, which was just so absurd that she started laughing and couldn't stop. Lilian thought she had lost her mind, because the counter to the Giggling Jinx wasn't working, and that only made Mary laugh harder. Professor Flitwick came across them in the hall, and sent Mary to the hospital wing. It turned out that she had been hit with a Hysteria Hex, an insidious Dark arts spell that waited until the victim started laughing, and then prevented them from stopping, before inspiring tears and then irrational fear. She realized that night that she probably should have done something about it when it was just Draco – now everyone was seeing her as a victim. Whatever she did in revenge had to be impressive and public, or they wouldn't stop now.
On Thursday, it seemed she couldn't go more than a few steps between classes without being hit by a Pinching Jinx or something that made it feel like her wand hand was being stung by bees. Someone slipped a truth serum into her drink at dinner, which compelled her to answer a series of ever-more-embarrassing questions about herself in the Common Room until she ran off into the tunnels. Lilian found her eventually, and cast a Tongue-Tying Jinx on her, so that she could stop talking. Lilian reported that Hermione had told her that she had seen second and third-year Slytherins in the library looking up jinxes and giggling about getting the better of her because she clearly shouldn't be a Slytherin at all. And then it came to her. She found a piece of scrap parchment and wrote as boldly as she could: That is it. This is war. I have a plan. We need a snake. Tomorrow night, forbidden forest. Lilian looked concerned, and had asked why she needed a snake, but Mary wouldn't write it down, and in the end she had just nodded.
On Friday, Lilian had asked her if she had been serious about going into the Forbidden Forest to look for a snake. Her head was pounding and fuzzy from the truth serum, but she said yes, she most definitely was serious. That this was going to stop, and it was going to stop now. Lilian had given her the grin she always had when they were talking about doing something mischievous. She had been wanting to go explore the forest since Hagrid had mentioned it the week before.
"Good," she had said, "I think we should leave around eleven thirty. The tunnels will be dark, and the Common Room is usually empty by then."
Mary had nodded grimly and continued through her day. No one tried anything in Potions, with Snape watching, but afterward, she discovered that someone had slipped a fragile bottle of something slimy into her bag. It cracked when she set it down too hard that evening in the library, and turned her hands into a painful, warty mess when she tried to save her half-completed homework assignments. Hermione had looked terribly worried. They hadn't had much time to spend together all week, with Mary dodging her housemates and trying to avoid their pranks. She walked with her to the Hospital Wing to have her hands fixed, but had reluctantly left when Madam Pomfrey announced that Mary would have to sit with her hands in some sort of potion for the next three hours.
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It was nearly ten by the time Mary was able to return to the Slytherin Common Room. Madam Pomfrey had Vanished all of the Bubotuber Pus, which was what the awful stuff was called, from her bag and books (which must have had some kind of repelling charm on them, because they weren't harmed), but there had been nothing she could do to repair Mary's all-but-finished History essay, or her half-completed Transfiguration assignment. She spent the next hour and a half re-writing the papers, and made a note to learn whatever charm protected her books.
At eleven-thirty, there was a soft knock on her door. She made Lilian wait while she changed into her darkest underclothes, including one of the long-sleeved "shirtwaists" and put her boots back on. She tied her hair back and threw her cloak around her shoulders, though she thought she probably would take it off before they entered the Forest, even if it was cold out. Exploring a dangerous Forest at night with what amounted to a blanket tied around her neck seemed like a terrible idea.
Lilian went back for her cloak as well, and they put up their hoods, slipping anonymously through the tunnels and the Slytherin Common Room, which was not deserted, but at least no one seemed to recognize them, or care that they were sneaking out.
"Alright," said Lilian as they climbed the first staircase out of the dungeons, "What are we doing? Not that I have a problem with going exploring outside in the middle of the night, but why do you need a snake?"
"Do you know why the Slytherin House mascot is a snake?"
"Because snakes are calculating and cold-blooded, just like Slytherins?" suggested Lilian.
"No. Well, maybe. But Hermione said it's because Salazar Slytherin was a parselmouth. He could talk to snakes."
"Really? Wicked. But so what?"
"So it's a really rare talent, right? Like not many people outside of the Slytherin family ever had it."
"Mkay… Liz, what's your point, here?"
"Shhhhh!" They were coming up on a cross-corridor. Mary poked her head around it, then waved Lilian forward. "No names. We're being sneaky, remember?"
Lilian shrugged. "Fine, what's your plan, though?"
Mary swallowed hard. "All of these pranks are because the rest of them think I don't belong here, right? Well, I'm going to prove that I do. And scare the crap out of Malfoy along the way." The professor had said it would be a bad idea to tell anyone, but she couldn't think of anything else she could do to prove that she belonged in Slytherin more. And it was only fair that it not come as a shock when they did find a snake. "I'm a parselmouth, Lils."
"WHAT?!"
"SHHHHH!" Mary hushed her friend almost as loud as her initial outburst. They were in the Entrance Hall. She pulled the taller witch into an alcove.
"Sorry." Lilian didn't look sorry at all. "I mean, what? Are you freaking kidding me? The Girl Who Lived is an evil, Dark witch?"
"No! I'm not!" Mary wasn't sure that she wouldn't be a Dark witch someday, but she thought it was a bit premature to say that she was one when she'd only started learning magic two weeks ago. And she was sure she wasn't evil. "And don't call me that," she added belatedly.
"It's okay if you are, you know," Lilian said with her usual cheeky grin, waving away the last comment. "You can admit it. It's not like you're a Dark Gryffindor or," she giggled, "a Dark Hufflepuff."
Mary couldn't help it: she giggled at that too. Hufflepuffs were just too damn nice to be Dark. "I'm not though. I just think that I should make some sort of move that shows everyone that I'm not the perfect little Light girl they're making me out to be."
Lilian nodded. "Neutral's a good place to be. My family – what was that?"
"What was what?"
"Shut up. I thought I heard something."
And then Mary heard it too – the scratch of too-long claws on flagstone and the slightly snuffling sound of Mrs. Norris. The cat poked her head around the edge of their alcove, yellow eyes glowing in the faint light of their wands.
"Shit! Nox! Come on," Lilian said, grabbing Mary by the hand. "We have to go. Filch will be here any second!" No sooner had she said that than they heard his wheezing, coming from the direction of the Great Hall, between them and the entrance to the dungeons. The only other way out was up the marble staircase. They ran for it.
They tore up one staircase and then another, ripped aside a tapestry and threw themselves down a secret passage. At one point they were in the trophy hall, gently lit and glittering, but they didn't linger, as they heard that damned cat yowling behind them.
They dipped out the door opposite the one they had come in through, and found themselves near the secret passage the Weasleys had used to escape Filch the week before. They ducked into it, and immediately found themselves falling down a chute into a room which seemed to have no purpose at all except to catch people. It was full of pillows and little plastic balls. They waded to a ladder on the other side of it, and climbed and climbed, coming through a trap-door somewhere near the Transfiguration classroom, which was on the fifth floor.
They couldn't stop, though, because Filch had followed the Weasleys, and doubtless knew where they would have to end up. They circled around and found a down-staircase in the opposite wing of the castle. It started moving while they were on it, and they ended up in a completely unfamiliar part of the fourth floor. Probably the fourth floor, Mary amended to herself, considering the way that floors seemed to work in this damned castle. They found another secret passage with a rickety spiral stair (and a vanishing step halfway down, which Lilian had to pull Mary out of), and came out of it, with the worst luck in the world, right next to Peeves.
He gave a squeal of delight. "Wandering around at midnight, Ickle Firsties? Tut, tut, tut. Naughty, naughty, you'll get caughty," he added over their panting and pleas for silence.
"You don't need to do this, Peeves, please," Mary tried one last time, but he gave her an evil grin and held three fingers in the air.
Two.
One.
"STUDENTS OUT OF BED!" he bellowed. "STUDENTS OUT OF BED DOWN THE CHARMS CORRIDOR!" and he floated through a wall cackling as they ran all the way to the opposite end of the hall, where they slammed into a door.
It was locked.
"Fuck!" Mary cursed, and turned to look for another door.
"Hang on," said Lilian, pushing Mary out of the way. She tapped the lock and whispered, "Alohomora!"
The lock clicked and the door swung open. The girls slipped through it, shut it quickly, and pressed their ears against it, listening.
"Which way did they go, Peeves?" Filch was saying. Peeves must have poked his head back through the wall. "Quick, tell me!"
"Say please."
"Don't mess with me Peeves, where did they go?"
"Shan't say nothing if you don't say please," the poltergeist said in his most annoying, sing-song voice.
"All right. Please," said Filch. It sounded like it hurt.
"NOTHING! Told you so, I told you so… shan't say nothing if you don't say please…" And they heard Peeves' cackling moving away, and the sound of Filch cursing in rage.
"He thinks this room's locked," whispered Lilian. "If we're quiet, he'll go away. What's wrong, why are you shaking me?"
Mary just pointed. They weren't in a room, they were in a corridor. The forbidden corridor. And now they knew why it was forbidden – there was a monstrous dog in the corridor with them, filling the entire space between ceiling and floor. It had three heads. Three pairs of rolling, mad eyes; three noses, twitching and quivering in their direction; three drooling mouths, saliva hanging in slippery ropes from yellowish fangs.
It was standing quite still, all six eyes staring at them, and Mary just knew that the only reason they weren't dead already was that their sudden appearance had taken it by surprise. It started growling, and she fumbled for the doorknob. Between Filch and death, she'd take Filch.
"Don't… move…" Lilian said quietly. Mary froze. Did she know what this thing was? "Just try to hum along, or be quiet. And still."
Mary stared at her in utter disbelief. And then Lilian started to sing:
"O, She look'd out of the window,
As white as summer's light,
He look'd in at her and grinned,
'Is heart as black as night.
Hulloa, hulloa, hulloa, she called,
Hulloa, my night-black Lord!
You've done me no harm, but I love you not,
And ne'er you shall I wed.
I'd rather die a maid, she said,
Than go with you, my Lord!"
The dog's eyes began to blink heavily, its heads weaving from side to side. Lilian kept singing:
"Then she became a duck,
Her feathers fair and white
And he became a water dog
And fetched her back despite.
Oh no, oh no, oh no, she cried,
Oh no, my Lord of Dark!
You've done me no harm, but I love you not,
And ne'er you shall I wed.
I'd rather die a maid, she said,
Than go with you, my Lord!"
Mary was humming along. It was a jaunty tune. If she hadn't been so scared, she might have tried to dance. The dog, apparently, didn't think so, though, as it had laid down, and was clearly getting sleepy.
"Then she became a golden hare,
A-running on the plain
And he a greyhound dog became
And fetched her back again.
Oh no, oh no, oh no, she laughed,
Oh no, my cold-heart Lord!
You've done me no harm, but I love you not,
And ne'er you shall I wed.
I'd rather die a maid, she said,
Than go with you, my Lord!"
The dog had finally closed its eyes (all six of them), and even its ears had stopped twitching in time with the song. "Come on," Lilian whispered. She turned the doorknob carefully and re-locked it behind them.
"What the hell was that?" Mary hissed as they made their way back to the dungeons.
"It's a cerberus. They're used as guard dogs, mostly," Lilian whispered back with a grin. "I mean, they're not very good guard dogs, since anyone who can carry a tune can get past one, but they look really impressive."
Mary considered this as they sneaked through the Entrance Hall, and decided she had nothing else to say on the topic of guard dogs. "I thought we were going to die. What was that song?"
"It's called the Lady and the Dog. He's a Dark Lord, she's a White witch. He woos her and convinces her to love him. There's another verse where she turns into a dove and he a bird dog, and she says he's 'proved his love through trials three'… And then there's another verse where he deflowers her, and she says that since she can't die a maid, she might as well go with him, but my mum didn't teach me that verse," she said virtuously. Mary snorted and Lilian smirked.
Then Mary sighed. "We'll have to try again another night," she said. "Since we didn't get… what we were looking for."
"I'll ask Aerin to come. She probably knows a sneaky way out of the Castle."
"Good idea. Maybe…next Friday, I guess. Or Saturday. I don't think I can do this two nights in a row," she yawned.
"Me either." Lilian whispered the password and they slipped silently through the now-empty Common Room and back through the tunnels.
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The next day at lunch, Lilian travelled back and forth between the Slytherin and Ravenclaw tables, speaking quietly with her sister, then with Mary, and then her sister again. Her older brother raised a warning eyebrow in her direction, but she brushed off his interest with a wave and her usual cheeky smile. Nothing horrible had happened yet, but then, Mary had only been out of her well-warded dorm room for about half an hour.
"Mary," she whispered, though the table was nowhere near full, and no one was nearby. "Aerin asks if there's a specific reason you wanted to go at night."
"Because," Mary replied, "I don't want anyone to know what we're up to. I have to take them by surprise for this to work."
Lilian ran off again. While she was gone, two things happened. Miles Bletchley, an older Slytherin, started skulking nearer to Mary, and a small school owl delivered a note to her. She opened the note, keeping watch on Bletchley out of the corner of her eye.
Your required monthly new-student meeting with your Head of House is scheduled for 2:30 pm today. Do not be late.
Prof. Snape
Mary had entirely forgotten that this meeting was to take place. She made a mental note of it (again) as Lilian returned, her face somewhat pink.
"Aerin says, and I quote, 'For Slytherins you seem to lack a certain degree of common sense. It's less suspicious to wander around the grounds this afternoon than it is to sneak out, and it's harder for anyone to follow you outside.'"
Mary flushed at this herself, but said, "This afternoon's no good," and showed Lilian the note.
"I got one too, but my meeting's earlier. Quarter past one. What about tomorrow?"
"Tomorrow should work, I guess. I was going to spend the afternoon in the Library with Hermione."
"I'll ask her if she wants to come too!" And Lilian vanished before Mary could say 'wait'.
Miles Bletchley, now only ten feet away, and strategically located behind a knot of Gryffindors, sent an ice-blue spell flying at Mary, but she had been watching for it, and dodged, leaving the spell to continue along its path and hit a fourth-year a few places down the table. He looked around angrily, and started shouting at the Gryffindors. Mary decided it was a good time to leave.
Lilian caught up as Mary was sidling out of the Great Hall. Aerin had agreed to meet them after lunch the next day, and Hermione had said they oughtn't go exploring the Forbidden Forest at all, but if they had to, she certainly wasn't going to go with them. Mary gave a sigh of relief when she realized that Lilian hadn't mentioned why they wanted to go into the Forest, and accompanied her friend to Professor Snape's office. Someone caught her with another Pinching Jinx as she retreated to her bedroom, and a Hair Vanishing Hex on her way to Snape's office for her own meeting. She glared around the Common Room when that happened, but all it gained her were a few barbed comments from the other first- (and second-) year girls.
She spun around on her heel, which made her robes do impressively swishy things, and strode out of the room, completely hairless. It wasn't as though she had time to get the hex reversed, at this point.
She arrived at Snape's office a bare minute early. The door was not latched, so she knocked and entered when bid. The potions master raised a questioning eyebrow at her lack of hair. She tried to do the same, but her eyebrows had vanished. She glared mutinously instead.
"Miss Potter. Have a seat."
Mary sat. "Professor Snape," she greeted her Head of House with a polite nod, apparently ignoring the fact that her shoulder-length curls had suddenly ceased to exist.
The professor looked like he was trying hard not to smile, which only made Mary angrier. She looked down. It was the only way, sometimes, to keep her temper. "Miss Potter, the purpose of these meetings is that any new student may ask questions or discuss any… problems… they may encounter over the course of their first term."
Mary nodded again, and volunteered nothing. Professor Snape sighed. Even his sighs sounded snide and sarcastic. Mary wondered how he managed that. "How are your classes progressing thusfar, Miss Potter?"
"Quite well, thank you, professor."
"Would you care to elaborate, Miss Potter?"
"Not particularly, professor." At that Professor Snape actually did smile (well, smirk), but she kept her eyes down.
"I have had nothing but good reports from my fellow staff members." Was it Mary's imagination, or did Snape sound somewhat disappointed about that?
He waited another long moment, then said, "I understand you have had some trouble fitting in within Slytherin House."
Mary couldn't help it – a small noise, somewhere between a snort and a laugh escaped. "You could say that, sir. But I have it under control."
"Miss Potter," Snape sounded a bit irritated now, "I will not stand for bullying within my house. Miss Moon informs me that you were nearly sent head-first down the Main Stair on Wednesday, and that you have not gone a single day this week without the occurrence of at least one embarrassing or harmful incident."
"Lilian needs to learn to keep her mouth shut, sir."
"Be that as it may, I do recall specifically informing you that should hazing within the house become an issue of bullying, you were to come to me that I could deal with the situation appropriately."
"No!" Mary said sharply, forgetting herself. "Sir," she added belatedly under the force of his dark glare.
"Explain yourself, Miss Potter."
"It's not… This is nothing, sir. They haven't done anything permanently harmful. You said that if we felt we were being bullied, or someone was breaking the Truce, we should come to you but, well…
"Yes, Miss Potter?"
"If they're doing this because I'm the Girl Who Lived," she thought she caught a hint of a genuine smile, quickly concealed, at the disgust with which she said the title, "That's breaking the Truce, and the penalty for them breaking the truce is that I can get them back, right?"
Snape hesitated for a moment. "That is correct, after a manner of speaking. More accurately, if one breaks the Truce in public, they are punished by everyone for breaking it."
"Yes, sir. I understand. But I am allowed to get back at them, as long as no one outside of Slytherin knows, right, sir?"
Snape stared at her for a long moment, his black eyes catching and holding her bright green ones. Then he nodded.
"Then I'll take care of it myself, sir."
"You simply prefer not to ask for help, Miss Potter?"
"No, sir," she said with a quick smile, "It's just… well… they'll never respect me if I go running to you for protection, will they? It will only get worse, and sneakier. Besides, I'm used to looking out for myself."
Snape looked like she had just hit him in the face with something heavy. She couldn't possibly know that her words echoed his own speech to Professor Slughorn in his first new student meeting. After a long moment, apparently lost in thought, he nodded again. "Indeed." He made a few marks on a piece of parchment, then asked, "Do you have any questions or concerns you would like to discuss?"
Mary bit her lip for a moment, then decided that it was worth it. "I do have one question, sir."
"Ask, Miss Potter," Snape said, somewhat impatiently.
"Why is there a Cerberus on the third floor? And why can you get through its door with a first-year charm?"
Snape pressed his thumb and a finger to the bridge of his nose, dramatically. This was, apparently, not the concern he was expecting. "The Headmaster has his reasons, Miss Potter. I suggest you recall that you were warned to stay away from that corridor and do as you were instructed. Is there anything else?"
"No, sir," said Mary, somewhat disappointed that her question had not been answered properly.
"Until next month, then, Miss Potter."
"Professor Snape." Mary nodded farewell, and stood to leave.
"Miss Potter," he called as she laid her hand on the doorknob. "Consider carefully before you make your move, lest you escalate your conflict past the point of violence you are willing and able to maintain."
Mary turned around and met the cold eyes of her Head of House. "Professor Snape," she said, seriously, "It's not going to be like that. I'm going to end it. They don't believe I belong in this House. I will show them otherwise. That's all." She smiled brightly and let herself out of the office.
Daphne Greengrass, when she arrived five minutes later for her own meeting, thought that Professor Snape looked rather troubled.
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The second attempt to acquire a snake (temporarily, and not at all as a pet) had gone more smoothly than the first. Mary had begged Morgana to remove the Hex on her hair, and it had started to re-grow itself over night (her eyebrows were intact, but her hair itself was only about two inches long, and ferociously curly about it). Aerin, Mary, and Lilian left the Castle through the open front door and took a walk around the Lake and out to the Quidditch pitch before they managed to lose the three second-year Slytherins who followed them out, though they had rather quickly managed to gain enough distance that it was safe to talk.
After a short lecture on the most effective ways to avoid the notice of one's peers and enemies (Aerin's first love might be learning, but she did grow up in a very Slytherin family, and her second love was teaching), Aerin finally asked why, exactly they were going to the Forest. Her reaction on hearing that Mary was a parselmouth had been almost exactly the same as Lilian's. Mary explained her plan in greater detail, and the older girl grinned. She knew the perfect snake for the job. She led the first-years to a place just inside the boundaries of the Forest, about halfway between the Senior Woods and Hagrid's Cabin, where she had come across a mated pair of Cleo's Asps the year before.
Cleo's Asps, Aerin explained, were a magical species bred in the early first century for the last Pharaoh of Egypt. They were by now widespread throughout Europe and the Mediterranean, and had come over to England with one of the Roman invasions. They were very venomous, but not very aggressive, and, like all magical creatures, more intelligent than their non-magical counterparts. They were recognized by their dark bodies and lighter markings like a double row of offset triangles or rectangles running down the length of their bodies. The most important thing about them was that their major magical property was a complete immunity to external magic. Wards couldn't keep them out, and spells cast on them had no effect. Even the Killing Curse was ineffective, because as sentient but not sapient creatures, they had no soul for the Curse to strike at. They could, of course, be killed by muggle means, but Aerin thought they were one of the few dangerous creatures that Mary stood a chance of bringing into the Castle at all.
Mary thought they sounded amazing. She couldn't wait to meet them. The three girls wandered slowly through the outskirts of the Forest, Mary calling greetings in Parseltongue (she found that she had to keep her mind firmly on snakes to speak it) while Lilian and Aerin discussed the Cerberus on the third floor, and why it might be there. They did not come to a conclusion, though Aerin resolved to check on it as soon as possible. After all, guard dog or not, a Cerberus was simply too large to be confined to a single corridor indefinitely. After almost an hour of walking around the forest, Mary heard an answering hiss.
Who speaks?
I. My name is Mary. Where are you?
Here, speaker. The snake, which had been lying unnoticed in a patch of leaves, moved. She was light-brown with golden triangles down her back. What are you?
I'm a witch. Greetings. What is your name?
The snake made a sound which Mary thought was a laugh. Humans call me Belladona, but my name is She Who Strikes Quickly.
I am honored to meet you, She Who Strikes Quickly. Mary sat down next to the snake, careful not to block her sunlight. How do you know humans?
I was born to be a familiar, but I did not like my wizard, so I left him. Who are these others with you? The snake flicked her tongue at the Moon sisters. One of them is familiar.
That's Aerin. She showed me this place. The other is Lilian. They are sisters.
She Who Strikes Quickly made the same laughing sound again. And you, speaker?
Oh! I'm just Mary. Mary Elizabeth Potter. Mostly they call me Liz.
Why have you come to the forest, speaker-child?
I came to ask if anyone might be able and willing to do a thing for me.
What is the thing?
Some of the children in the Castle have been hurting me. I want help to scare them, so that they will stop.
I will ask my mate to join us. Wait.
The asp slithered away into the trees. Mary looked up to see that Aerin and Lily were staring at her in fascination.
"What's going on?" Lilian asked.
"Her name is She Who Strikes Quickly. I told her I want help to scare the other Slytherins so that they will stop hurting me. She went to ask her mate to join us."
"This is so cool! I wish I could speak to animals." The envy was clear in Aerin's voice.
Mary shrugged. She had no idea what to say to that. Thankfully the snake and her mate returned before she had to think of anything. His name was a sound which was similar to the parsel word for still water, but did not have an actual meaning. He was slightly smaller and darker than his mate, with almost-black markings instead of gold.
Mary explained her plan and waited while the asps discussed it. After a short exchange, too quick for Mary to follow, they decided that it sounded interesting enough to come and help. She Who Strikes Quickly coiled herself around Mary's neck while her mate hid himself in Mary's left sleeve. The three girls walked back toward the castle, detouring widely around Hagrid's house and circling around part of the lake. They made it back with plenty of time to spare before dinner.
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Mary finished eating quickly and returned to Slytherin, only to hide herself away in the tunnels near the first-year boys' junction. The snakes were in position and had their instructions – all they had to do was wait for Malfoy to visit his bedroom, and they would have him. Mary took a seat in the tunnel and waited patiently. She must have drifted off for at least a few minutes, because she was awoken by a very high-pitched scream, which cut off quickly, and was followed by the unmistakable sounds of Vinnie and Greg trying to enter Malfoy's room and being deflected by the wards.
She Who Strikes Quickly darted out of the shadows and Mary picked her up, allowing the snake to take a position wrapped around her head like a crown. That had been the snake's idea. She wanted to have a good spot from which to watch.
Mary strolled out of the side-tunnel with deliberate slowness, meandering into the commotion. Draco had left his door open – he must have just ducked into his room for a moment. Perfect.
She cleared her throat and tried to look cool and collected, but also as imposing as possible. "Good evening, Draco. Vinnie, Greg."
Draco was frozen and didn't dare respond, the male asp curled around his neck and poised to strike.
So fearsome, my mate! said She Who Strikes Quickly from her perch. Mary giggled. Vinnie and Greg were staring at her in shock, and hadn't returned her greeting.
Perfect! Mary said to the male asp. The three boys' eyes grew large with fear.
It was nothing, the asp responded.
"Greg, Vinnie, please go ahead to the Common Room. Draco and I are going to have a little chat," Mary said. The boys looked at their friend and back to Mary a couple of times, but left without saying anything. Mary waited until they were probably out of earshot before she added, "You can talk. He's not going to bite you. Yet."
Draco took her up on the offer. Kind of. "You…Y-y-you're a… you… snake?"
"Indeed." She raised an eyebrow at him in her best unimpressed Professor Snape impression.
You were right, the male asp said, he does smell of prey.
I thought he would. It's funny, because his name is dragon in the human tongue.
Both snakes made the sound which expressed amusement, but wasn't really laughter.
There was a pungent smell as Draco wet himself. "Wh-wha-what did you s-say?"
"The snakes agree with my friend Hermione – you remember, from the train? Your name doesn't fit you at all." Draco looked like he almost wanted to be insulted, but couldn't quite manage it under the circumstances. Mary giggled again. "Now listen closely. This is how it's going to go. We're going to walk into the Common Room, and you're going to confirm a few things for me."
"Anything! I'll say anything you want! Just let me go!"
"One: You're going to tell everyone that the 'pranks' against me stop right now. I know you're not the only one, but you started it. Two: You're going to admit you broke the Truce, repeatedly attacking me just because I'm Mary Potter, and you're going to swear not to do it again. Three: You're going to confirm that regardless of whatever else I may be, I am a Slytherin, and I do belong here."
"I-I-I yes. I c-can do that."
"Good. Start walking." Mary glared at the boy as he stumbled past her, leading the way to the common room.
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On the whole, Mary thought the Snake Prank went even better than she had anticipated. The bullying stopped immediately and the other Slytherins began to make it clear that she was one of them (though rumors of her parseltongue abilities began to spread through the castle almost as quickly). The snakes stayed in her room for several days, but no one tried to retaliate. Mary decided she could deal with the entire castle thinking she was a dark witch if it meant they would leave her alone.
Professor Snape called Mary in to his office to inform her that he would be filing a new rule forbidding students to bring venomous snakes into the castle (it wasn't against the rules before because it hadn't needed to be). He also told her that her plan was entirely lacking in subtlety and that she could have done better, but gave her five points for effectiveness and promised not to spread the word that she was no longer allowed to bring in snakes so long as she agreed to abide by it.
Unfortunately, Mary had not fully anticipated that building a reputation for herself as a parselmouth would gain her enemies among all the houses except Slytherin. Even her reputation and fame as The Girl Who Lived did not save her from vicious rumors and a few equally vicious hexes from the upper-year Gryffindors. Hufflepuff House voted to shun her entirely, which made her History, Transfiguration, and DADA classes somewhat awkward. On top of that, Hermione was very upset with her for ignoring Professor McGonagall's advice to keep her ability to speak to snakes quiet (and she didn't even know how Mary had revealed that particular talent). But the Slytherins retaliated against Gryffindor for her, and the Hufflepuffs wouldn't actually try to hex her, so Mary considered the plan a success, overall.
As the month of September wore on, Mary found herself falling into a routine of classes, meals, letters, homework, research, and, of course, exploring the castle and grounds. Hermione joined Mary, Lilian and sometimes Aerin as they poked their noses everywhere but the Forbidden Forest and the Third Floor Corridor. Between their required work, explorations, and reading new and interesting books that Hermione found, the days fairly flew by, and Mary was almost surprised to realize that she had been at Hogwarts for almost a month already.
And then Lilian had to go and ruin everything. Mary could not remember, after, what she had originally been making fun of Malfoy for, but she had made a face, imitating him, and Lilian had said, in front of Hermione, that he had looked just like when she had set that snake on him. And then Hermione asked, in the same tone her mother used when she was about to take a ministry official to task, "What snake?" And the whole story came out. Before Mary could really comprehend what was happening, Hermione had stormed off and was refusing to talk to her. Once she understood, she blamed Lilian, and refused to talk to her, though that only lasted for a day and a half – Mary had always been much better at enduring the silent treatment than enforcing it.
So it was that Mary entered her first October at Hogwarts in terrible spirits, despite her coup over the ringleaders of Slytherin.
Severus
Severus Snape, Potions Master, ex-Death Eater, former spy, Head of Slytherin House and bane of lazy, clumsy students, had not enjoyed his first week back to school even as much as he generally did. Normally, he quite appreciated the chance to remind all of the dunderheaded brats he was forced to teach that they were not, in fact, the Powers' gift to the world, just because they happened to be able to do a bit of magic. Over the summer of 1991, however, he had received the rudest sort of shock: Mary Potter, Lily Evans' daughter, would be coming to Hogwarts. He had known, of course, in the back of his mind, that the Girl Who Lived couldn't possibly go anywhere else. But he most definitely had not expected Minerva McGonagall to inform him out of the blue that the girl would be coming to stay at the school early due to an… untenable living situation.
The girl had stayed somewhere up on the fourth floor for a week, and Severus had studiously avoided her the entire time.
The major problem was that he was not certain how he wanted to deal with the girl. She was, of course, Lily's child. He would protect her, if needed, because the Headmaster had asked him and in penance for his greatest mistake.
But she was also the child of that conceited jackass Gryffindor bully, James Potter. Her head was probably filled with lies about her own prowess, and illusions about the nature of her fame. He had expected that she would come to Hogwarts an arrogant little monster, like the Malfoy boy or her wretched father. He had expected that she would expect special treatment for her mother's sacrifice – for he firmly believed it was Lily's sacrifice that had saved her daughter's life and the rest of the wizarding world. He had seen the wreckage of the house, and knew his dark rituals perhaps even better than the Headmaster. Mary Potter was special only insofar as her mother had been the cleverest witch he had ever known. He had expected to hate her.
And then Minerva had had to bring her to Hogwarts early, a step she normally took only with the most severe cases of abuse and neglect of muggleborn children. Though he would never admit it, Severus had a soft spot for the children who were abused before they came to Hogwarts. Even as a Death Eater, before he had turned coat, he had never tortured children. It was one of the reasons he had agreed to be the head of Slytherin House: Slytherin was, at its core, a place for survivors, and more abuse victims found their way into Slytherin than any other House. The Old Families did not raise their children gently, and never had. It was his penance to spy and then work at Hogwarts, but he had chosen to become Head of Slytherin because he believed it was important for the children of "former" Death Eaters to have a safe and stable home for at least part of the year.
Reading between the lines (and with judicious use of legilimency to fill in the larger blanks), it seemed that the headmaster had placed the girl with Lily's awful sister Petunia, who had always been jealous of Lily and hateful toward anything to do with magic. On receiving Mary's Letter (which wasn't even the right letter, apparently), Petunia had sent one of her own, demanding that the girl be removed from her care at once, never to be welcomed in her home again. (The Headmaster had been most displeased about that, though he would not say why. Severus had begun studying what wards he might have put in place which demanded that Petunia of all people welcome the girl into her home, and was soon quite displeased himself.)
The only thing he could do, he had finally decided, was to reserve judgement until he actually met the child. He had resolved to do so after she returned from the Diagon Alley trip. And then she had up and disappeared off into the muggle world again for the last month of the holidays. It was most infuriating.
Severus' first glimpse of the child had been the same as everyone else's: A thin-faced, green-eyed girl with a dark pony-tail, quiet and unassuming. She walked into the Great Hall, clearly nervous, but stepped forward to be sorted with a subtle air of self-possession. She had sat under the Hat for nearly three minutes, frowning and biting her lip, presumably arguing with it before it placed her in a house… his House, of all the houses.
He almost smiled at that, despite his ambivalence toward the girl. A poke in the eye, this would have been, surely, for the late James Potter: that his daughter would choose to be one of the "slimy snakes" he had loathed so deeply on principle. And Albus, though he had not frowned at the feast, had discussed at length in private the expectations he held for the little girl who he would hold up as a symbol for the light. A Slytherin Girl Who Lived was never in his plans, much less a Girl Who Lived who argued to be put into Slytherin. He had wanted the girl in Gryffindor or Hufflepuff. A Ravenclaw savior he could have worked with… but Slytherin's reputation had been dragged through the mud by the Dark Lord and his followers.
Even now, the children of Severus' house held thinly-veiled pureblood ideals, taught at their parents' knees that their blood rendered them superior, and that the fall of the Dark Lord was a temporary setback in their goals of wresting power from the Light. There were more than a few students who would consider breaking the fragile Truce to take a shot at the Girl Who Had Ruined Their Family's Reputation.
Since the sorting, he had watched the girl as carefully as he had avoided her during the summer. He contemplated his observations after the first Friday Staff Meeting of the year.
So far… so far the Slytherins had not attacked her directly, instead choosing to isolate her and ignore her. She was easy to ignore, going out of the way not to draw attention to herself, and seemingly content for things to remain that way. She had distanced herself somewhat from her famous reputation, introducing herself as Elizabeth, and managed always to be present without ever drawing attention. Her friendship with the Moon girl helped her there, as the other girl was much more outgoing and adventurous, drawing eyes away from her quiet companion. Mary's eyes (Lily's eyes) were always averted, her voice quiet and respectful in addressing adults, though he had heard the occasional sarcastic comment to her friends. She listened well, and thought about the tasks she was asked to perform. She had acquitted herself well in potions, following the instructions meticulously and producing an acceptable Boil Cure despite never having brewed before, which merited an E. His prefects informed him that she had been making efforts already to integrate into wizarding society – she had been spotted reading etiquette books in the library with the Granger girl.
He was almost pleased with the girl until he realized that, in many ways, Mary Elizabeth reminded him less of the vivacious eleven-year-old Lily Evans or the insufferably arrogant young James Potter, but rather of himself as a child. More ignorant, of course, than he had been – his mother had been a Prince, and had taught him accordingly despite his father's wrath – but there were certain similarities, nonetheless. It was a very disturbing thought.
He shook his head slightly, and returned to marking the first essays of the term. He had more important things to do than dwell on his most famous first-year student. If he hurried, he could have the essays done before the staff meeting. After, of course, he had to complete his part of Dumbledore's Great Diversion, and there were reports to review before the Slytherin House meeting, and he had a sneaking suspicion that something was off with Quirrell. Someone ought to be keeping a closer eye on him…
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Severus considered the stubborn girl sitting across the desk, eyes down, refusing to ask for help, refusing help when it was freely offered. When he asked her why she would refuse, she echoed his own childish thoughts on the nature of her peers' esteem.
And when he warned her not to escalate the quiet war within his house, she said that she would not escalate the violence, but end it. Severus would have found that much more reassuring if her phrasing hadn't reminded him so unmistakably of a certain Dark Lord when she said it. If her earlier words had echoed his own, her final statement could have come from Lord Voldemort's lips, and very nearly had.
"I'm going to end it, Severus," he had said, the night the young Death Eater had delivered the fatal half a prophecy. "They believe I can be stopped. I will show them otherwise. That is all."
It was, quite frankly, disturbing.
And the smile she gave him just before she left his office made her look like a miniature (hairless) version of Bellatrix, which really didn't help.
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"Miss Potter," Severus said, his most troublesome first-year sitting across his desk again, "Do you have anything to say for yourself regarding the report Miss Fawley made regarding your treatment of Mr. Malfoy yesterday evening?"
"No, sir." She refused to look up.
Severus sighed. This was going to be a tedious meeting. "Very well, Miss Potter, we will do this the more difficult way. Are you in fact a parselmouth?"
"Yes, sir."
"And did you bring a Cleo's Asp into the Slytherin dorms in order to ambush Mr. Malfoy?"
"No, sir."
"No?" He raised an eyebrow at the girl.
"I brought two, sir," she explained, apparently reluctantly.
Severus pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to ward off the tension headache he could already feel rising up behind his eyes. A very tedious meeting, indeed.
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Severus always felt extremely out of place in the Headmaster's office. It was a light, airy room full of silvery, tinkling instruments. He was a dungeon bat, through and through. On a good night (if Aurora had not been particularly irritating that day), he might consent to being an astronomy tower bat instead, but either way, darkness was his element. He was certain the Headmaster left him waiting with Fawkes, the ridiculously named phoenix, because he knew the creature's warbling was uncomfortable for the one truly dark wizard in the castle.
Dumbledore reappeared from the depths of a space-bending storage trunk, a tiny vial in hand.
"Here we are, Severus!" The old man poured the silvery strand of memory from the vial to his pensieve. "Now you will see, I think, why I find the rumors currently circulating about Miss Potter to be so disturbing."
Severus made a noncommittal noise and touched the surface of the pensieve only to be dragged into the memory.
It was somewhat blurry, and fuzzy around the edges, an effect, Severus was almost certain, due to the use of legilimency to obtain it. Dumbledore had used legilimency on a student, then extracted his own second-hand memory of the experience.
A pale, dark-haired boy with bright blue eyes sat in the Slytherin House Library. He was reading a book, though Severus could not make out the title through the blur.
"Who is this?" he asked the Headmaster.
"The boy is called Tom Riddle, though of course you would come to know him by a different name," Dumbledore said quietly. "The year is 1937."
There was a shriek from the dormitories. Severus was almost certain it was a boy. Tom Riddle stalked across the (strangely deserted) Common Room to the first-year boys' junction. Severus, Dumbledore, and a handful of other students followed him. It did not escape Severus' notice that the boy Riddle did not seem to have any doubts as to the origin of the shriek. He doubtless was responsible.
A blonde boy was lying on the floor of the bathroom, twitching slightly. A snake abandoned the blonde boy and coiled itself around Riddle's throat.
Snape inhaled sharply, the sound almost drowning out the whispered exchange between boy and serpent: A job well done, my darling. – A pleasure, speaker. Shall I return to the forest? Or have you some other task for me? – You may go.
The snake vanished through a crack in the wall.
Tom Riddle smiled threateningly at two other students as he swept out of the loo. They shivered under his gaze, and a chorus of whispers erupted in his wake. The memory went foggy, and Severus was able to pull himself away from the memory.
"You legilimized the Dark Lord?" It could be no one else – there had been no other parselmouths at Hogwarts for over a hundred years.
"He was not yet Lord Voldemort, Severus. Only Tom Riddle, my most troublesome first-year student. He had the rest of the staff wrapped around his little finger, of course. I regret to say I was correct to mistrust him, even so early on. I would that I had been wrong… alas…"
Severus stared at his Headmaster, aghast at the depth of history between the two masters he was bound to serve and the fact that Dumbledore had used legilimency against a student – any student – when he was only a troublesome first-year.
"You see, though, Severus, why I am concerned?"
Severus considered the issue a moment. "I believe you need not worry yourself over the girl. She chose to threaten, not to strike. The choice to use a serpent follows naturally from the parsel talent and the lack of alternatives for a muggle-raised child in Slytherin."
Dumbledore looked as though he wished to say something, but Severus ignored this. He still couldn't believe that Dumbledore would use legilimency on a child in his care. It was a gross violation of privacy rights, even if the child in question was to become the Dark Lord. "I was actually quite impressed. A Cleo's Asp is probably the only deadly creature she could have brought through the wards, and a snake the only effective weapon she could wield against Mr. Malfoy, given that he has several more years of hexes and political experience under his hat, and the older students had joined him in his attacks. It was clumsy, I will grant, but effective."
"Severus…"
"If that is all, Headmaster?"
The Headmaster nodded reluctantly, and Severus left his office, shuddering in distaste as he closed the door at the top of the spiral stair.
It was not until he reached the dungeons that he realized the full import of Dumbledore's revelation: the Dark Lord, greatest pureblood supremacist since Grindelwald, as a child, had been called Tom Riddle…
Severus knew exactly what to do with this information.