CHAPTER 19 - Professor Dumbledore Returns
"Dumbledore's back!"
His return was welcomed with delighted chatter as he took to the high table at breakfast the following morning. It was so good to see him again, sat front and centre between Professor McGonagall and Professor Snape.
Whilst the subject of Professor Lupin and Luna was still on everyone's minds, Geneva's also revolved around the horcrux. She surveyed Dumbledore and Snape closely knowing it was no co-incidence they were sat together. Usually Snape was further down the table.
She and Orah sat tucking into their breakfast in casual musings that morning. Geneva's father came up in conversation – another harsh reality she was reminded of. She had planned to go home during Easter break. She had thought about her mother plenty and how she was coping.
When people begin to leave the Great Hall in dribs and drabs, Geneva felt someone barge into her shoulder. It was Hermione Granger. She was walking briskly toward the oak doors with a knowing look of concealed information about her face.
Geneva and Orah rose from their seats and followed her into the library where they found a quiet place to talk. Hermione grabbed a book from the shelves, falsely perusing the pages and encouraged the girls to do the same, speaking inconspicuously.
"I have a lot to tell you," she whispered, surveying the premises. "Dumbledore has been on trial. Snape was there. Harry saw it all."
"How?" Orah inquired.
"Invisibility cloak. Listen, Dumbledore is currently under watchful measures. The Ministry now insists that anyone who comes forward for the DADA position has to go through the Ministry first. Essentially the Ministry will hire our next teacher."
"And Lupin…Luna?" Geneva asked, pretending to search a book she was skimming through, side eyeing Hermione.
"Dumbledore is trying to prove You-Know-Who is back, but the Ministry thinks he's some kind of crack pot old fool."
"And Snape?"
"Harry said he isn't sure. Dumbledore seems to trust him. Perhaps Lucius stole the Wolvesbane from Lupin's quarters and he's behind it all, but Snape has to be involved somewhat."
"Sounds like it was Lucius," Geneva added, determined to clear Snape's name.
The horcrux. It was the only way to prove He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was back, and yet Geneva couldn't say a word. How could she, when there was so much baggage in tow.
"What's happened with Lupin?" Orah asked.
"They've silenced him," Hermione declared. "It's an outrage!" her lips pursed indignantly. "They haven't printed anything in the Daily Prophet because they refuse to believe You-Know-Who is back. It's absolutely atrocious. It's against Wizarding rights. He's to suffer a year in Azkaban."
"That's awful!" Geneva sighed.
"Azkaban? I've heard it's horrible," Orah added, a haunting look about a face. "It's guarded by dementors. Everywhere. People go mad in that place and never come out the same."
Hermione shut her eyes, shaking her head in sorrow.
"It's all we know for now. I just wanted to tell you. I know Dumbledore wants to meet with Harry later. Harry's been…feeling, well…a little strange lately. I can't go into details now." She popped the book back on the shelf she was hiding behind and fixed her bag on her shoulder. "We need to go. We've got class."
"Geneva, a moment please…" Professor McGonagall gestured her over to the side after Transfiguration, as other students filtered out to lunch.
"Yes Professor?"
Professor McGonagall stood in her green crushed velvet robes, linking her fingers - a look of formality about her face.
"I am to let you know that Professor Dumbledore wishes to speak with you today. After dinner, if you would kindly make your way to my office, I will escort you."
"Yes, Professor."
Geneva's stomach twisted. She felt instantly sick.
As requested, once eaten, and a made up excuse was given to Orah, Geneva walked quietly through the corridors to Professor McGonagall's office, her mind racing – It must be about the horcrux, she thought. Dumbledore must know how to destroy it. Maybe he knows about...Oh God. Professor Snape. She thought of waking up in his bed. Panic came over her. We haven't spoken about this. What happens if Dumbledore asks me questions I can't answer. What do I say?
Geneva had reached Professor McGonagall's office before she had any more time to think, and knocked four times, feeling increasingly nervous. Professor McGonagall opened the door almost right away, and walked straight out as if she had been waiting behind it the entire time.
"Follow me," she requested. The only words spoken on the way to Dumbledore's office, except to gain access with the password "Sherbet Lemon." Taking the centre, infront of the towering golden Griffin at the foot of the stairs, they ascended as the spiral staircase took them straight up into his round, rather magnificent looking office. It was home to many a curious object - some displayed in glass cabinets that surrounded the perimeter - objects of astronomy purposes, beautiful artefacts and funny little things which glowed in blue and purple. Other interesting looking items were placed around the room and upon his desk omitting occasional puffs of smoke, either in rotation or levitating. On the walls were many paintings of varying sizes, rising tall to the ceiling depicting great wizards of days gone by.
Professor McGonagall stepped into the office first, her shoes clipping formally as she walked in, hands clasped infront, Geneva in tow. Geneva's heart beat so nervously, she could feel it in her throat, as her eyes fell upon the faces around the room - Professor Dumbledore at his desk, Professor Snape to her right, and Professor Trelawney to her left with Professor McGonagall.
Despite the formal looking congregation, Dumbledore, who was sat behind his desk with his jewelled fingers intertwined, inclined his head, looking through his half mooned spectacles and welcomed her with a smile.
"Hello Geneva."
"Hello Professor," her voice wobbled, standing before him, her fingers now linked as formally as McGonagall's.
"I suspect you are wondering why Professor McGonagall brought you here," he paused. "I believe we have a horcrux in question." Dumbledore raised an eyebrow over his spectacles.
Geneva's heart palpitated.
"Yes sir."
"Professor Snape has informed me on terrible tyranny you suffered at the hands of this object whilst I was at the Ministry."
"Yes sir."
Oh God she repeated.
Geneva…focus.
Snape's voice. Except it wasn't coming from the right hand side of her where he was stood. It was inside her head. She almost looked at him.
"And I understand Professor Snape has explained to you the nature of this object?"
"Yes, sir."
"...Why this object has found its way to you in particular…"
"Yes, sir." It was all she could manage to say.
"What I would like to do, Miss Azur, is perform an extraction. One can never be too safe. You have a multi-faceted mind and I would like to make sure the horcrux has left no dark traces on you."
Geneva could only swallow this time, nodding her head as her eyes glazed over in a tidal wave of nerves.
Dumbledore rose his hand toward the teachers, "Professor McGonagall, Professor Trelawney, Professor Snape…we are all aware of your history and your powerful abilities."
A concept Geneva still struggled to accept. Powerful was not a word she'd ever used to describe her abilities, as advanced as they were.
"We will of course need to perform the extraction this evening. We must act swiftly."
Geneva stood terrified at this sudden announcement, wondering what it entailed. Professor McGonagall witnessed her take in a sharp breath, and went to her side, with a hand of comfort rested on her back.
"You'll be quite safe, Geneva."
Geneva nodded compliantly, though walked in an uneasy trance as Professor McGonagall took her over to a chair and sat her down gently. Dumbledore rose regally from his desk and came to stand before her in his robes of navy and gold, pushing his spectacles upon his crooked nose.
Though Geneva trusted Dumbledore wholeheartedly, her chest rose and fell, in fear of the unknown.
"Will this hurt?" she asked, her voice shaking, watching Professor Trelawney take a step forward nervously clutching a blue frosted glass jar. Her jittery demeanour only contributed to Geneva's apprehension.
"You may feel some discomfort," Dumbledore answered, "but the chances are, once performed, you will not remember a thing. You may feel in a state of exhaustion once it's over."
Geneva closed her eyes for a second, hoping it would clear the wave of nausea.
"Ok." It was all she could say, wanting desperately for it to be complete.
She managed to look up and caught Professor Snape - who even though was stood dutifully - narrowed his eyes in a look of reassurance, yet so subliminally no one caught it but her.
I can do this. It'll be fine, she repeated. For a second she wondered if this meant they'd be able to read her thoughts. If her feelings toward Professor Snape got out... No. No, that can't happen else he wouldn't be here.
Dumbledore took his wand, concealed within his robes and stood before her, peering over his spectacles instructing her on what he was about to do.
"I want you to sit back, as calm as you can. I will place my wand to your temple and extract after three," he nodded.
Geneva's breath shook. She could only manage to nod in return as Dumbledore rose his wand to her temple. He had the bluest, most trusting eyes Geneva had ever seen.
"On with it then. One...Two...Three."
Geneva's gasp drew screamingly hard into her chest before it was released. It was as though she had exhaled for an age, as though her chest had been tightened under a vice and every bit of oxygen had been ripped from her body leaving her in a cold sweat. She awoke crying, the arms of Professor McGonagall over her shoulders to keep her still, who was distressed herself at the toll it had taken on Geneva's body.
Professor Trelawney frantically clasped the lid closed on the glass jar she'd been holding, now containing dark fragments as Dumbledore suspected. Professor Snape immediately whirled his wand over the top, uttering an incantation to charm it securely shut.
"Well done, Geneva," Professor McGonagall soothed. Geneva was shaking, in floods of tears. She made a conscious effort to breath hard and steady to allow herself to speak.
"It...it feels...feels like I've just woken...up f- from a nightmare," she exasperated.
Though she couldn't remember a thing, the room that had spun in an insufferable blitz of horror, now contained the faces of those she trusted. Her eyes adjusted to her familiar surroundings of her Professors.
Dumbledore nodded toward Geneva.
"Well done. Now, I think it's time you were off to bed. That's enough for one night. I suspect you're feeling the exhaustion. Geneva, your bravery was exceptional. Professor Snape, would you please escort her back to the girl's dormitory."
"Certainly," Snape insisted.
"Oh and do take a sherbet lemon on the way out," Dumbledore offered.
Being escorted back to her dormitory with Professor Snape gave Geneva a sense of security and ease after the ordeal she'd suffered. However now, she was feeling far different in herself. A smile played about her mouth, concealed by the sucking of her sherbet lemon as she made her way with her Potions Professor to the ground floor.
Biting into the tangy boiled sweet, she drew out the delicious sherbet inside. A bubbling feeling rose in her stomach causing her to unexpectedly let out a small chuckle. It bubbled again, then she chuckled some more. Snape turned his head, an eyebrow raised, only to hear it continue and rolled his eyes back in front of him. It was a quarter of an hour after curfew and the corridors were silent but this.
"I don't know what's happening," Geneva snorted, throwing her hand to her face in a mask of embarrassment.
"Evidently, Dumbledore believes in childish euphoria to diminish negative thoughts."
"It's the sherbet?" she laughed.
Snape flicked his eyes toward the ceiling, unamused. "Ob-vi-ou-sly."
"I feel so funny inside. What's in these things?"
"A most ludacris concoction of laughing dust."
"It's great!" she giggled.
He acknowledged her with occasional flicks of the eye, but refused to entertain her childish state, though little did she know that he found her smile annoyingly infectious.
"This is nice isn't it Severus?" Geneva waltzed her shoulders in his direction. "Going for a walk..."
Snape spoke inconspicuously without moving his eyes, "May I remind you that we are in the corridors, Miss Azur..."
"That's not what you called me before...Professor. Sev!" She twinkled. "Can I call you Sev?"
"Absolutely not."
"Ok, I'm sorry," she chortled, swallowing half of the sweet. She turned to him in a soft whisper as they reached the floor of the dungeons and the Slytherin quarters, playing with the ends of her tumbling curls. "Professor, do you have to walk me back to my dorm? Can't we go somewhere else..." she got a little closer to his side and whispered with a smile, "Perhaps somewhere you can rip my clothes off and make me scream?"
"I beg your pardon?"
Oh fuck, did I just say that out loud?!
"Under the influence of a hard boiled sweet, the chances are...slim."
The hilarity of his word choice had Geneva sniggering through her nose, and she was gone again. She crunched the sherbet lemon, pointing out her efforts. Snape rose his brows slowly, his lips unable to stop themselves, and dammit they curled into a smirk. She caught it and melted into a smile of her own, throwing herself onto his robes.
"Kiss me."
His lips came crashing down onto hers right there in the middle of the empty corridor.
"Professor Snape," came a voice. "Professor Snape..." It was Jonathan Hill, on prefect duty.
Geneva's heart thudded. Her connection with her Potions Professor was broken...except she realised then that they were not joined in the first place, but were simply walking as they were before. The kiss had been a moment of legillimency. A moment entirely in their heads.
Snape stopped whilst Jonathan addressed him about an issue in the Slytherin Common Room. Geneva wasn't listening, and instead concentrated on looking anywhere but at Jonathan. He looked.
"You ok, gorgeous?" He smiled flirtatiously at Geneva, his green eyes dancing across her body. "Where you headed?"
"That's none of your concern…is it...Hill," answered Snape matter-of-factly. "On you go."
"Just doing my duty sir," he answered, adjusting his gleaming prefect badge.
"I think you'll find Miss Azur is quite on track of her destination, Mr Hill. Good night."
Snape rose a sardonic brow at Jonathan before Jonathan sauntered off confidently down the corridor, holding his hands up with a swaggering attitude.
Geneva turned and smiled suggestively at Snape, reading the gesture in his words.
"So, where are we off to?" she smiled, still giddy from the sherbet lemon.
"You," as directed by Professor Dumbledore, are off to your dormitory," he finalized. "Along with this preposterous giggling."