The Assessment

The house was as crooked and lopsided as only a wizarding house could be. It was located in a narrow cobbled road verging off Diagon Alley, with the infamous Knockturn Alley right around the corner, wedged in between two other buildings of a similar kind, and on one of the wooden balconies that looked as if they might come down any moment, a witch with scraggly grey hair and a nose that rivalled Severus Snape's peered down at Elena with a look of blatant disgust.

"Is this number sixty-six?" Elena called up to her uncertainly as it was hard to believe that this obviously run-down house could be the place where an institution as conscious of appearances as the Crowley Academy obviously was (judging from the brochures, anyway, and from the Crowley lifestyle) carried out its assessments. She had checked the address – sent to her only the day before along with the time at which she was to present herself – numerous times and was actually quite certain that she'd got it right. Carcass Lane was the name of this road, which sounded horrible but had really something to do with a slaughterhouse that had had its quarters here over a century ago (a detail Cassie had supplied her with). Number sixty-six was peculiar because Elena wasn't sure whether the narrow road even held that many houses, but she knew by now that house numbering in the wizarding world didn't always follow rational rules; in fact, most buildings didn't even sport a number.

"Madam?" she tried again as the big-nosed witch on the balcony hadn't replied. "Do you hear me? Is this number sixty-six?"

The woman's mouth worked, formed a spout. The next moment, a spray of spit and mucus came down and Elena was only just able to dodge the projectile. "What the …!?"

"Piss off, bloody Mudblood!" the old banshee screeched and dove out of sight before Elena could whip out her wand. However, a cackling laughter could be heard.

"Choke on your venom, bitch!" Elena ranted. While being called 'Mudblood' was something that happened every now and then, she was no longer prepared to just swallow it. However, it made her feel even more insecure. Did she really look like a Muggle so much? Especially today she had taken extra care with her clothes – no denims, no synthetics – because she had thought long and hard about the kind of image she wanted to convey to the Crowley Academy. And yet all it took was a bitchy witch with cataracts to tell exactly what she was!

Elena sighed dejectedly and then decided that the only way to find out whether she was in the right place was to knock, which she did, forcing herself not to be timid. It took an awfully long time before anyone responded, and she was just about to knock again when the door was drawn open.

She knew at once that the face was familiar. Watery eyes, light-brown hair tied back in a ponytail and a slightly beaky nose. Yet, it took her a few seconds to place it. "Mr Periwinkle …"

Periwinkle the Younger, to be precise.

"Ms Horwath. I'm pleased you remember me."

Something about him had changed. The last time Elena had seen him – 'His name's Waldemar', she recalled now – he'd been nervous, with beads of sweat on his forehead, and obviously daunted by the presence of Periwinkle the Elder. Now, however, he exuded the self-assured benevolence of a host. He stepped back gallantly. "Please come in."

Elena stepped over the threshold into a very narrow and cramped hallway that smelt of age-old dust and cat piss. At first she thought that small gauze curtains hung from the ceiling, but they were really gigantic cobwebs with myriads of flies neatly wrapped up in them. – Yes, she was still a Muggle. Walking into a hallway such as this made her body hair stand on edge. She wasn't tidy, far from it, but this … well, it was much, much worse than even Severus' house had been before the arrival of Gilly, the house-elf.

"Is this … an outpost of the Academy?" she asked incredulously.

Waldemar Periwinkle's cheeks coloured. For a moment, he looked like his old nervous self. "I'm very sorry about this. – You're right, this house is a bad representative of the Academy. We use differing locations to carry out our assessments, and we can't always choose."

Elena took careful note of the 'we'. The young Periwinkle appeared to consider himself an integral part of the Academy, and Elena wondered what his father's – grandfather's? anyway, Ansgard Periwinkle's – take was on that. "Why don't you do them at your academy?" she asked.

Waldemar Periwinkle gave her a twitchy smile ."We like to be private", he said, then led the way through the hallway. "I'm afraid, Ms Horwath, you will have to wait a little while. We had a small … delay and are still getting ready upstairs. – Will you be so kind and take a seat in here?"

He was trying to be smooth and charming, Elena noted, maybe a little too much. With a gesture too flamboyant to fit the location (or the occasion, for that matter), he opened a door at the end way of the hallway, leading into a dusty small sitting room that held no more than a faded pink chintz sofa, a rickety chair for a coffee table and a dead fireplace. There were cracks all over the ceiling and a cold draught came through cracks in the windows that were as dirty as those of the Hog's Head. Elena entered the room hesitantly. A shiver of disgust went down her spine.

"Would you like anything while you're waiting? Tea, perhaps?"

"No", she said, shaking her head ferociously and only just able to keep herself from saying 'In this dump, are you kidding?' Gingerly, she sat down on the edge of the chintz sofa.

"We'll make it quick", Waldemar Periwinkle assured her, suddenly fidgeting. "Thank you for your patience."

A few seconds later, Elena was alone in the cramped sitting room, working hard to breathe evenly. It was difficult because she was nervous, more so than she had expected. She forced herself to remember Severus' words to her, spoken only a week ago. "You have to own it; believe it. You're a witch in sore need of education, nothing more. Focus on the parts of your story that are true!" In theory, this was all very well. However, sitting here in this depressingly dirty place, completely out of her comfort zone, it was difficult to take courage in theory. What was more, she didn't know what was coming, what form the assessment would take and whether she would be able to deal with it. Granted, in the past week she had practiced Occlumency almost every day, mostly with Draco who'd come by faithfully. Certainly she was as well prepared as she could be, but would it help her?

She sighed, wanted to lean back, but the sofa wasn't very inviting. From overhead, voices and footsteps could be heard. Chairs were drawn over the floor with a screeching sound. Elena began to ask herself whether all this was a scheme to unsettle her and put her at a disadvantage. The more she thought about it, the more likely it appeared. She had to occupy her mind, not think about what might be coming or what could happen. She had to think positive thoughts. And so she turned to her last meeting with Severus …

It had taken place in Komarek's Mercedes, a few hours after she'd got the invitation to the assessment. Elena had gone there immediately after receiving a very late owl and had renewed the Obscuring and Repelling charms on the car to ensure a private conversation in its dimly lit interior. Snape had arrived about ten minutes later, smelling of snow and with melting flakes on his shoulders that told Elena that winter had come back to Scotland.

"So it's on", he'd said instead of a 'Hello', slipping into the passenger seat beside her.

"Yeah, it's on", she'd murmured, not knowing what else to say.

He'd scrutinized her. "Second thoughts?", but Elena had waved it away.

"You could still say no", Snape suggested with unusual gentleness.

"No, I couldn't. Not now. It'd be chickening out." She gave him a testy side-glance. "Plus, you've made sure that I might have a bodyguard. – Sorry, bodyguard-slash-boyfriend."

He gave her a dry grin. "Thought that you wouldn't like that much."

"Oh, I'm fine", she claimed, although she looked miffed, "you won't like it!"

He raised an eyebrow. "Oh yeah?"

"Yes, and I'll tell you why: people will think that Draco cuckolded you!"

A strange glimmer in his eyes told her that he hadn't thought of that. "I don't care what people say", he growled eventually.

"Oh yes, you do! I know hardly anyone who is so touchy about being ridiculed!" Even in the dim light of the car her eyes looked ablaze.

Snape did his utmost to set a stony face and shrugged. "I've had worse."

Again, she glanced at him and tried to read what he was thinking or feeling – did 'I've had worse' mean 'I don't care'? – but of course it was futile. "I'm a little worried about the assessment, though", she confessed in a small voice.

"So am I", he replied.

"Assess my magical propensities, what's that supposed to mean?"

"I have no idea", he admitted. "Such procedures do exist, of course. We have one at Hogwarts, the Sorting Hat. However, it doesn't so much assess the layout of magical talent, but rather the temperament of each individual student."

"And it only sorts into four categories, doesn't it, the four Houses. I don't think that this is what the assessment is about."

"Probably not."

"I mean, it sounds reasonable in a way that they would want to know where to start teaching me, where my strengths and weaknesses are …"

"I don't object to that", Snape broke in, "I am worried about something else."

"Yeah?"

"Your prescience."

Elena looked at him curiously, asking him to elaborate.

"I wouldn't want people like that to know about this very specific talent of yours. – Seers are rare, as you know, and hence they are also precious. And frequently abused. Just think of the fate of most seers that you have ever heard of. Cassandra of Troy. Morgan le Fey. Or the Roman Sybils that were forced to sit on stools all day in the midst of mind-numbing fumes supposed to suppress their conscious thought and make their visions more vivid, hardly given any food and no comfort at all. Most Sybils were old women by the time they were forty, exhausted and on the verge of madness …"

"I'm not going to be a Sybil", Elena said reasonably. "Those times are over."

But he scoffed. "As per usual, you're underestimating this. Anyone with a desire for power who can get their hands on a true seer will not rest until they do so, by one scheme or another. A person who is able to predict the future represents an immense advantage to anyone seeking power. I need not explain why, just think about it. – Hence, I fear that if the Academy finds out about your divinatory talent, they will do everything to not only develop and school it, but also to make use of it."

"They can't do that without my permission!"

"They might not ask", Severus held against.

She swallowed and looked glum. What he'd said made perfect sense in a perverted way. "What should I do?"

"Practice Occlumency. Any chance you get. And hope you can shield your prescience so they don't find out about it." He shrugged once more to signal that there wasn't much else that she could do.

"I did practice today", she piped up like a good girl, but that was only because she felt very insecure all of a sudden, "with Draco."

"Good. Give it another go tomorrow. And the day after that. And …"

"I get it."

They were silent then, staring out of the windshield into a dark night where the swings, slides and climbing frames of the nearby playground looked like the meagre skeletons of out-worldly beings. It was Snape who spoke first. "What's happening there, anyway? Have you had any visions lately?"

She shook her head. "Nothing. Absolutely nothing since the Leshnikov thing. It's a little bit as if I've lost that connection."

Snape taxed her thoughtfully. "Probably a good sign", he murmured.

"Why do you think so?"

"Last time, your visions became more forceful the closer danger came, didn't they? The fact that you don't have any now probably means that there is no immediate reason for concern."

That, at least, cheered her up a bit. "I wish I could control it better", she sighed.

"Yes. That's mostly my fault. I should have found you a Divination instructor a long time ago, to teach you how to handle it and give you the possibility of deciding what you'd want to do with it. – Problem is, I only know one – like I said, seers are rare – but she's a bundle of nerves and I'd hate her teaching you …" He broke off and shook his head with determination.

"Tell me how to be a spy then", she demanded, "you know, tricks of the trade and all that."

The expression on his face changed from thoughtful to self-important. And so, in the middle of the night and sitting in a vintage Mercedes, Severus Snape began to instruct her on spy work. He started with a few basic rules, specifically how to give herself a back story and believe it, too. Most of it was really common sense; nonetheless she found it both informative and thrilling (in more ways than one) to listen to his silky voice telling her to be ever observant and get people to give her the information that she wanted.

"You have to remember", he explained, "that what people like best is talking about themselves. Believe me, it's like an addiction: given the opportunity, they won't let go. It's the best way to get them to let down their guard and give you what you want to know. By diverting their attention to themselves, you will also make sure that they don't wonder about you too much. And by feigning interest in their sorry lives, you'll make sure they trust you."

"Mollycoddle them, in other words."

"Yes, but careful! Not everybody's open to that. Some people thrive on attention, others on well-dosed resistance. But since you're so proud of your intuition, you will surely know the difference."

She thought about it. "Who taught you to be a spy, anyway?"

"I taught myself. I guess you could say I'm a natural." He did sound arrogant when he said it like this, but Elena knew that he didn't mean it that way. "Dumbledore helped with a few tricks, though", he added a little hastily.

"Why do you think you're so good at it?"

"Lots of sneaking around when I was a kid", he responded sourly.

The reference to his childhood reminded her of Eileen Prince, which gave her a reason to change the subject. "Your mother still around?"

"Yes", he said gloomily, "as was to be expected."

"Do you mind?"

"Yes, I do. But then, I really live at Hogwarts, so I can stay out of her way. – Plus, she did a really good job with this." He pointed to his neck. Only now did Elena notice the crisp clean bandages that, unlike before, had not a spot of blood or pus on them. "You can say what you want about her, but whenever she concocts something, the effect is … thorough."

Elena understood the allusion and bit her lip. Severus, in turn, gave her a crooked grin. It was a little bit as if they shared a running gag.

They remained seated in the car for a while longer, talking lazily about this and that; questions were asked, advice given, but it was really nothing that desperately needed to be discussed. Actually, the reason why they stayed was not a conscious one. Had they made any effort to discover it, they would have found that it was their bodies that demanded to stay close to each other and that their nether selves weren't as shy as their rational ones. As it was, they simply felt a reluctance to get moving, leave the comfort of the leather seats and venture out into the cold; hence, they put it off.

Eventually, however, Elena looked at the clock on the car's dashboard. It showed almost 2 a.m.

"Gee, that late?" She looked at Severus with a gentle look of pity. "When do you have to get up?"

"Six o'clock."

"Oh! I'm sorry, I didn't realize …"

He held up his hand. "Don't apologize to an insomniac for not letting him sleep. This was more important. But you'll have to continue with Draco now."

She grinned crookedly. "My new boyfriend …"

He scowled at first, but then saw her expression develop into a genuine smile. "I'd thought you'd be mad", he remarked.

She tilted her head. "And I thought you wouldn't care about that."

Feeling caught, he stared out of the windshield again. "First and foremost, I'm thinking about your safety."

"I know. – And just for the record, I was mad. Because you didn't tell me personally."

"What, you think I was afraid of telling you?" He glared at her challengingly.

"God forbid, the great Severus Snape – afraid?" The irony in her words was heavy, but before he could react with outrage she gave him her most radiant smile which – as always – stunted him a little. It also made him think of something else.

"It's a good thing to have Draco as an ally", he assured her. "It's not only that he's capable, he also comes from a well-connected family. That might help us in things to come. It's important to have allies, especially as a spy."

She said nothing, but continued to smile, her eyes seeking his. The atmosphere changed, became laden with meaning; there was an underlying tension that made Severus struggle for words that wouldn't come, and so he latched on to the next best thing. "Speaking of the Malfoys …", he started, then clamped his mouth shut.

"Yes?" Elena sensed something, the need to coax the words out of him, and also she had a feeling that what he was going to say would be significant. Again, she smiled warmly to encourage him, thinking that sometimes getting him to talk was like coaxing a frightened kitten out from under the sofa.

"There's … I've received an owl."

"Really?" She made it sound as if it was the most extraordinary thing.

"From Draco's mother. An invitation to dinner." He didn't go on and Elena felt that it had been hard enough for him to get these words out.

"Well, that's nice, isn't it?" she said lightly. "Aren't those people your friends?"

"They used to be. Lucius … well, I guess he still resents what he perceives as my betrayal of him."

"Let him sulk, then", Elena counselled. "At least his wife and son are on your side, so he might come around eventually."

He didn't say anything, just stared ahead.

"You're going to go, aren't you?" Elena asked, uncertain about what was going on inside his head. "Or are you uncomfortable about it?"

"No. I'm going to go", he said very quietly. His eyes were on the dashboard now. Elena almost didn't catch it when he murmured, "Would you?"

It took her a few seconds to understand what he was proposing. "Would I what? Come with you?"

He continued to stare ahead, then turned his head slightly towards her – without looking into her eyes – and nodded.

"Sure I would! I'd love to!" Her affirmation came so quickly and enthusiastically it made Snape look up in astonishment which, in turn, made her laugh. "Come on, that can't be such a surprise!"

He knew what she was alluding to, that it was an encrypted way of saying 'I'd go anywhere with you', but still that simple affirmation of affection swayed him; he wasn't used to it; he always suspected ridicule; but at the same time, he couldn't believe anymore that she was making a fool of him, not after all that had happened. Yet, he was a little disconcerted when he felt a smile come to his lips. "Well then. Fine."

Elena laughed again, but he saw immediately that it was a happy laugh. She was delighted at the prospect. He had hoped it, but was still surprised that asking a woman to go out on a dinner date with him – for the first time in his life, in fact – had been so easy. Yet, he broke off the meeting quite quickly after that, quoting his Hogwarts duties and that only a few hours of sleep remained (the insomniac detail suddenly seemed forgotten). Also, he promised that he would get in touch about the dinner, admonished her that the dress-code would be formal as they were going to visit a very grand wizarding home. Elena realized quickly that he was only talking to overcome his embarrassment and waved it away.

"Don't worry, I won't cause you any shame", she promised mirthfully as they got out of the car.

"I didn't mean to say …", he started to growl.

"I know! I know …" And with a playful wink and a tiny wave, she'd left him standing there, walking away with a jaunty walk and swaying hips and feeling his eyes burning holes into her back.

The meeting with Severus in the car had put her into a good and confident mood for almost a week. Now, however, sitting in the dirty sitting room and waiting for the assessment to begin, she felt that confidence quickly evaporating. Also, she suspicion that this was the intended effect of letting her wait so long grew – it was more than half an hour by now – and this made her slightly angry. She got up from the dingy sofa and started pacing around. She had hardly got into it when the door to the cramped room flew open and a slightly breathless Waldemar Periwinkle appeared. The beads of sweat were back on his forehead.

"Sorry for the wait, Ms Horwath. Like I said, we had some problems. You can come up now."

She gulped as she followed the young man up a rickety staircase. Part of her wanted to ask what was coming, how she was going to be 'assessed', but she feared that any question in that direction might give away how nervous she was and so she said nothing. They came to a door, and when Periwinkle the Younger opened it, he made way into a spacious room, far less dusty than the rest of the house, although it looked crooked with its slanted walls and askew floorboards. In the middle of the room stood two chairs facing each other. Immediately, the word 'interrogation' popped up ominously in Elena's mind.

She stepped into the room, looked about. There was a half-open door leading to an adjacent room. A loud rustle came from it.

"Stephen?" Waldemar Periwinkle called out as they entered, visibly irritated. "Where are you?"

Another rustle from the adjacent room and a tall thin figure appeared. Elena looked up and set eyes on one of the prettiest young men she had ever seen. His hair was as black as Severus', though shorter and quite unruly, the features fine, skin pale with a slight golden hue. The young man's eyes had the colour of molten chocolate, but they were unsteady, roving around. Elena wasn't sure whether he had noticed her at all.

"I can't find my quill." The words came out in a hectic staccato.

Waldemar cleared his throat. "Ms Horwath, may I introduce my brother? Stephen Periwinkle."

Brothers? Elena looked from one man to the other. They didn't look related at all. "Nice to meet you", she said to the black-haired one.

However, he ignored her. "I can't find my quill!" he repeated, obviously distraught.

"That's not important now, Stephen!" Waldemar's irritation grew. "Ms Horwath is here for the assessment. Let's go to work."

"I cannot work without my quill!" Stephen Periwinkle insisted, turned a cold shoulder to them and disappeared into the adjacent room.

"Damn it, Stephen!" Waldemar made to follow him, then thought twice and turned to Elena with an apologetic smile. "I'm sorry about this. My brother is a little … peculiar. However, I can assure you that no one can do what he does quite like him. You'll see." And with that, he spurted into the next room. "Come out, you dimwit! You can look for your bloody quill later!"

The reply was dry and dogged. "I cannot work without my quill!"

"God damn it, Stephen, why now?! You can't do this!"

"I need my …" The rest was drowned in a frantic rustle of papers.

Elena frowned, looked around. She spotted peacock feathers on one of the window sills. "Sir, is this your quill?" she called out gently.

Stephen Periwinkle appeared in the doorframe, stared. "Don't touch it!" he shouted and hurried towards her.

"Don't worry. I won't."

"How many times have I told you?! You can't talk to people like this!" Waldemar looked livid.

"That's quite alright", Elena said evenly, watching as Stephen Periwinkle picked up his quill with a satisfied murmur and proceeded to stroke it with thin, delicate fingers. "It's a very beautiful quill", she said.

The handsome young man looked up. For the first time, he appeared to really see her. "Elena Johanna Horwath", he said, his pronunciation perfect. "Born 7th of May 1974 in Vienna, Austria."

"That's right", she said and smiled. She was used to her name being mispronounced, 'Elaina' instead of 'Élena', 'Joanna' instead of 'Yo-hanna' and with an English 'th' instead of just 't'; she wondered if Stephen Periwinkle knew any German.

"What are you, a bloody robot?" With a quick and vicious movement, Waldemar Periwinkle hit his brother around the head with a copy of the Daily Prophet. "Or a zombie, more like." He grinned at Elena, waiting for her approval, but she returned his look coldly. Waldemar fidgeted, then put on a bright face. "Let's proceed now, shall we?"

However, Stephen ignored him, looking very earnest. "My mother gave me this quill", he informed Elena.

"Mother's dead!" Waldemar hissed. "Enough with that bloody quill now, one might think you're obsessed! Sit down already. – Ms Horwath, I'm really really sorry for this!"

She decided to do as Stephen did and ignored him. "Are you going to do the assessment?" she asked the young man who was carefully pocketing his quill.

"Yes. It's what I do."

"And he does it really well!" Waldemar butted in. "He's an utter fool otherwise, but he can do that."

Elena's eyes darkened. She didn't at all like the way how Waldemar talked to his brother. Certainly she saw that the young man was peculiar in a way that she didn't quite understand. However, his eyes – as soon as they had stopped roving – were alert and intelligent. No, he wasn't stupid; he was merely different.

"I'm not in a hurry", she said to Stephen, "we can take our time."

"Don't encourage him, Ms Horwath. It was his fault you had to wait so long in the first place."

"I survived", she said.

Stephen looked at his brother pointedly. "She survived", he informed him reasonably. "And I had to find my quill."

Waldemar's head acquired a slightly purple colour.

"Uh-oh", said Stephen, but sounded completely unfazed.

"Maybe we should begin", Elena said gently, "what do you think? We don't want anyone to blow a fuse, do we?"

"No. That'd be unpleasant." Again, Stephen's voice was monotonous, unemotional, and Elena sensed that this was his 'problem'. It made for a wonderfully sarcastic effect, though. He pointed to the chairs in the middle of the room. "You have to sit down. There. The right one. Not the left."

She did as told and watched attentively as Stephen sat down opposite of her. He was breathing deeply now, obviously preparing himself. Then he looked at her very earnestly. "When I tell you, you have to put your hands in mine", he said, "but only when I tell you, not before that."

"She understands English", snarled Waldemar.

Elena turned her head sharply and glared at him with sparkling eyes. He clamped his mouth shut.

"The assessment of Elena Johanna Horwath, born 7th of May 1974 in Vienna, Austria, is about to begin", Stephen Periwinkle said, sounding a little solemn. "When I tell you, you have to put your hands in mine."

She nodded and Stephen breathed deeply again. Elena sensed that this was difficult for him, that he had to brace himself for the physical contact. When he finally said "Now!", it sounded laboured.

His hands lay on his knees, palms facing upwards. Very gently, Elena put her hands in his. They felt warm and only slightly sweaty. As soon as contact was established, Elena felt a peculiar tension moving upwards from her hands into her arms, her shoulders, then her chest. It was like a very slight electric vibration. She tried to focus, put up her Occlumentic shield. She recalled Severus' favourite exercise – he saying 'blue elephant', and she trying to think of anything but that, only now her prescience had become the blue elephant.

Stephen Periwinkle's head fell back, his brown eyes rolled up in their sockets. The vibration in Elena's body increased, it started to feel slightly disagreeable. She tried not to focus too much on the discomfort, but on shielding her thoughts.

A strange humming sound came from Stephen's slightly open mouth. With a start, Elena realized that he had gone into a kind of trance. Waldemar Periwinkle watched closely from the side lines.

"Strong mental powers", Stephen whispered in a voice quite unlike his own, "vivid imagination and powers of projection. Empathy." Again, he inhaled sharply. "Not very practical, though. Working with magical materials won't come off as desired."

It was a very sound summing up of her potential, and Elena had to bite down on a smile, then focussed again.

"Also, there is …" Stephen Periwinkle broke off.

Involuntarily, she swallowed. For some reason, she sensed that this very specific power of his was much stronger than her Occlumency. Was he on to her prescience?

"What is it?" Waldemar hissed impatiently.

It jolted Stephen out of his trance. He gave his brother a cold look. "You mustn't disturb. I told you. It ruins everything."

"Come on, don't be daft!"

"It ruins everything!" Stephen insisted, then suddenly shot up from the chair. "It's over", he stated dryly.

"Stephen! Go back to work!"

"It's over", Stephen repeated doggedly, "I'm done."

"Do as I tell you, you dimwit! Or father will hear of this!"

Stephen twitched, but refused to sit down again.

"I'm afraid your brother has summed me up very well", Elena said quietly. "He's right, I'm no good at Potions and Herbology. I do better in other fields. Also, I've only been doing this for a short time. I guess there's not much to see." She allowed herself an unnoticeable sigh of relief.

"Very good at Transfiguration", Stephen said monotonously. "Charms work, too. – However, she'll probably never concoct a proper potion. – I recommend Arithmancy. Will school abstract thinking, though it won't come easy."

Waldemar Periwinkle swore under his breath, then tried to calm down. "Well. I guess that's quite enough then."

"So you know where to start with me now", Elena babbled happily to distract Waldemar from demanding that his brother try again. "Guess you'll have to plunge me into Potions and Herbology classes. Got around it way too long …"

But to her surprise, Waldemar Periwinkle shook his head. "That's not our philosophy", he explained tersely. "At the academy, we don't believe in working on people's weaknesses, but rather to further and improve on their strengths. What use is it to school you in subjects in which you'll never achieve more than average standard? – In that way, we are very different from other teaching institutions such as Hogwarts. We believe in focussing on the useful."

'To be properly made use of', Elena thought sarcastically. "Interesting approach", she said politely.

"Well", Waldemar Periwinkle said, "I guess we're quite done here."

"Seriously? That was it?"

Waldemar rolled his eyes at his brother who'd ventured over to the window and stared out of it, seemingly unaware of what was going on in the room. "May I escort you down, Ms Horwath?"

"Sure!" She jumped up and followed the more obnoxious of the two young Periwinkles. In the doorframe, she turned around and looked at Stephen who's back was still turned to her. "Good-bye, Mr Periwinkle. And thank you for your time."

He didn't turn, stared out of the window. Only in the last moment, when she was already out in the hallway, did she hear him say, "Good-bye, Elena Horwath."

"I hope he didn't upset you", Waldemar said to her as they walked down the staircase. "He's been that way for a long time; ever since our mother died."

"What happened?" Elena looked worried, but Waldemar waved her question away.

"Long time ago. Doesn't matter now."

"Your brother didn't upset me", Elena said with a slight scowl, "I think he's remarkable."

"You're being very polite", Waldemar replied with a chuckle, "but you may well say it as it is: he's a nutcase."

She wanted to object. In fact, the way Waldemar put his brother down angered her to no end, made her want to defend him. However, she saw that it was probably not very sensible to do so. Getting emotional would not help her in the weeks to come, so she didn't comment. It wasn't necessary, either, because Waldemar prattled on. "They are very good with him at the academy. Father said they might eventually make a wizard out of him. Not that I believe it …"

"He's enrolled at the academy, as well?"

"Yes, but in a special program." He made a dismissive gesture, then smiled at her. "Are you looking forward to starting your studies?"

She stared at him astonished. "Does this mean … I'm admitted?"

"Of course! Didn't you hear him? Strong powers, he said. – Now, you can't trust Stephen with most things, but he is very good in that regard. – The academy would be thrilled to develop a talent such as yours."

"Well … great!" she sputtered. "That's exactly what I need!"

They had arrived at the front door. Instead of opening it for her, however, Waldemar Periwinkle eyed her curiously. "I thought you had a teacher? – Last time I saw you, you were quite insistent as to that."

She had prepared herself for that question. The rueful smile was carefully studied, as was the down-casting of her eyes. "Well. That changed." She said it in a small voice to suggest that she'd rather not talk about the reason.

"I see." Waldemar appeared understanding. "Difficult person, Professor Snape, isn't he?"

"Yeah", she scoffed. The way in which she said it made Periwinkle even more sympathetic.

"You can rest easy now, Ms Horwath. Your magical education will take its course. And you don't need to concern yourself with having to learn stuff you're not really made for. Instead, we will focus on developing your full magical potential in a manner in which it is seldom realized in ordinary education."

She kept an even face, but thought that this sounded like the doings of a sect. "Sounds very good indeed", she chirped.

"Your lessons will start next week. You will be collected from your house Monday morning. Keep yourself ready at around 8 a.m." With those words, he finally opened the door for her.

"Alright then", she said. "Can I just ask …?"

"Yes?"

"Ansgard Periwinkle … is he your father? I wasn't sure the first time I met you …"

"Yes. He doesn't like to put too much on relations in a work environment, but you're right, he's my father. And Stephen's, too. No one knows how that happened. The Periwinkles are known for being sharp. Probably a weakness in my mother's blood …"

Again, Elena bit her lip. It was no use telling him that she strongly suspected Stephen to be the sharpest tool in the Periwinkle box, and that the others just didn't see it because they weren't as sharp as they believed. Yet again, it would have been highly undiplomatic.

"Fine", she said, "so I'll see you next week?"

"We might encounter each other every now and then", Waldemar said with a warm smile – a little too warm for her taste.

Elena wanted to say 'I'm looking forward to it', but found that she couldn't bring herself to say it. In only a short while, she'd come to intensely dislike Waldemar Periwinkle. So she settled for a non-committal "See you then", inclined her head and then walked away at a brisk pace.

Elena was eager to get home and write an owl to Severus about what she had experienced, so when on her way she passed 'Persephone's Den' – the dusty but charming wizarding café that she often went to with Cassie – she didn't even take the time to peek in by the windows. Had she done so, she might have become witness to a little rendezvous taking place there. Or maybe she wouldn't have, because the two participants had taken good care not to be spotted too easily. Hidden away in an alcove, they talked in hushed voices while their heads – one full of black curls, the other sporting gleaming white-blond hair – were confidentially inclined towards each other.

"I just wanted to tell you", one of them said, "so you don't … get the wrong idea or anything."

A soft low chuckle answered, one that sent a pleasant shiver down the spine of the one who heard it. "Why would I get the wrong idea? Actually, I don't have the right to get any ideas."

"Maybe. But it's important to me."

"That's very sweet of you. But you remember what I told you, don't you? When we talked at Daphne's party? That you should take a time out, get a clear head, find yourself …"

"Find myself." A scoff. "Sounds like Muggle talk. – No, seriously, I don't mean anything by it, it's just that they're talking about it all the time, finding themselves, being their true selves, and then there's yoga, and meditation …"

Another delighted laugh. "They are a bit peculiar, aren't they? – Well, you're taking quite the workshop in Muggle behaviour, I hear …"

"How do you …"

"Oh, come on! You had Blaise over, didn't you? In your Chelsea place? You know he's a blabbermouth …"

"I specifically told him …"

"Cool down … Really, I understand! And I think you're doing a good thing, cut the cords, try something new. It's what I told you you should do, didn't I?"

"Yeah, you did, but …"

"I don't need to know everything. It would be totally unfair if I advised you to take some time to straighten yourself out and then told you how to do it or how not to do it."

"Still … I had a rough time. Acted out a bit. But that's over now. I have a purpose. Something to do."

"Like faking to be somebody's boyfriend?" However, the smile that came with the words was friendly, blue eyes sparkled amusedly.

"It's only for this someone's protection. I cannot tell you the whole story, it's sensitive. But I'm doing this for someone who did a lot for me."

"I can guess who you mean." Another warm smile.

"It's … confidential."

"I won't ask."

"I want you to know, though, that I'm very glad to be able to do this."

"Do it, then."

"I cannot not do it now. I promised. But that's why I wanted you to know."

"I would have known, anyway …"

"… you see, that girl, she's not even my type!"

"Stop it! It's alright!"

Silence ensued, eyes met, and eventually hands, too. Unspoken words hung over the intertwined fingers, but there was no need to pronounce them because it was right there in their eyes, the blue pair as well as the grey. Without knowing that in this moment they were both thinking the exact same thing, they marvelled at how easy everything was if you just managed to find the right person; how naturally their two souls were drawn to each other, how easy it was to talk, and how much easier even to converse without words. It was a small miracle, and an unexpected one at that.

And for the next hour or so, Astoria Greengrass and Draco Malfoy sat in silent contemplation of said miracle.

This story will have to take a small break as I will go on a two weeks' vacation, visiting a friend on the other side of the world. This will be a time for reconnecting and not so much for writing, though hopefully new sights will provide new ideas.

However, I am happy to report that the next chapter is almost finished in my head and I will start on it as soon as I get back. Its title will be "Chez Malfoy" …

Thanks for your reviews and support, and please don't forget about Elena and Severus

March 2017:

To those of you who seem worried that this story will not be continued: I have come back from my vacation, and although I needed some time to get back into the swing of this story (and to process all the impressions of my trip), the new chapter is now well under way and will be published soon. It'll be a long one, very probably running into a second entitled "Pillow Talk" … just a little teaser to keep you interested ;-)