Chapter Two
Students and Teachers
Standing next to the bureau in the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom situated on the ground floor of the castle, Jane could feel at least twenty curious glances fixed on herself. 'Well, calm down and start talking', she thought. And to her surprise, that's exactly what she did in less than a minute.
"Hello, students," she said calmly and smiled slightly. "I am Associate Professor Jane Undead and this year I will be teaching you the subject of Defence Against the Dark Arts."
She waved her wand in the direction of the small pile of broken chalk left on the desk, and a piece headed for the board. After writing 'Assoc. Prof. J. Undead', the chalk hung motionless in the air, which made a serious impression on the audience. The teacher quickly calmed the excitement by tapping the desk with her wand and continued:
"You are starting the sixth year of your studies and every year you had the honour to study under a different teacher. I looked at your O.W.L. grades and I'd say they are satisfactory if you weren't from Ravenclaw."
In fact, Jane was very disappointed with their grades, unsuitable even for the Hufflepuff house, but chose not to say it out loud. Maybe it wasn't only their fault.
"Although diverse, I suppose you have gained a lot of useful knowledge during these five years. And since I was informed by my colleagues that you are all fans of magical duels, I suggest that two of you come in front of the class and demonstrate what you have learned. Those of you who wish to participate, please raise your hands, and I will point you out."
Jane looked carefully at the suddenly quiet room but didn't notice a single raised hand. As she wondered what to do in the face of this desperate lack of initiative, she noticed a girl with her blond hair tied in a ponytail, sitting at the bottom of the room, hesitantly pointing her hand at the ceiling.
"Very well, Miss.."
"Lily Smith," the girl said quickly.
"Obviously you're going to have to duel with me unless one of your classmates wants to join." Undead glanced briefly at the students as she tapped her index finger with her wand. "No? All right, then. I promise not to bite."
The class laughed, and a group of girls sitting at the far end of the room began a lively discussion.
"Ladies, please!", the teacher said warningly. "There are recesses for this purpose, as far as I remember."
"Snape number two," one of the girls hissed softly, but Jane heard her very well. What had Professor Snape done to earn such a reputation? He didn't look bad at all. After everyone fell silent, Jane turned to look at little Lily Smith, who was nervously spinning her wand, and a beam of coloured sparks leapt from it to the board. She gave her a short smile and announced the rules aloud.
"You can use all the spells you can think of. Just be careful, we don't want to set anything on fire. For my part, I will limit myself mainly to the material from last year and the year before that thought in Defence Against the Dark Arts and Charms. Are you ready?"
The girl nodded. Jane bowed slightly over the tip of her wand, and Lily did the same. Jane counted aloud to three. The duel had begun.
For a few seconds, the two of them looked at each other estimatingly. Then the teacher decided to attack with a simple spell and, pointing her wand at the girl, said loudly and clearly, "Expeliarmus!"
"Protego!", Lily answered instantly, and the beam of light flying at her disappeared in a heartbeat. "Inkita Inflamare!"
Jane decided that her warning had apparently not only not served its purpose, but had even given the girl an idea about what to attack her with. At least Lily was inventive.
"Aguamenti!", Jane shouted, stopping the orb of fire before it scorched the curtains and her having to line up the whole class to put them out. Unfortunately for Lily, however, the water jet was so strong that it almost reached her.
"Impervius!", cried the girl, just before it showered her. "Mufliato!"
It was getting more and more interesting.
"Protego," Jane said calmly, deflecting the grey beam. "Incacerus!"
After the ropes were repelled as well, Jane decided to attack with something even simpler. She knew that many people went to pot by the very elementary spells, so she decided to send Lily:
"Rictosempra!"
"Intersia!"
A small shield quickly appeared in front of the girl, stopping the spell, but Jane was ready with the next, "Lumos Solem!"
"Nox!" Lily said quickly.
Jane smiled – she was liking the girl more and more with every passing second.
"Alcoholicus!", Jane shouted. She wasn't going to be the only one who's drunk. Well, she wasn't anymore, but last night's events had given her that idea. Several children laughed, and Lily hurried to say the counterspell. Some of the students were so excited that they got up from their seats and lined up past the bureau to observe.
"Confundus!", was Lily's next spell.
Jane quickly beat it off and fired another. "Mobilicorpus!"
The girl obviously didn't remember it and rose a few feet above the floor, but she was still clutching her wand. "Patrificus Totalus!"
It took Jane a lot of effort to resist it, but she quickly sent another one. "Berekt!", she shouted.
Stunned by the blue beam of light, the surprised Lily dropped her wand, which fell to the ground and began throwing numerous copies in various directions.
"Well, I give up," she said sadly, watching the at least ten magic wands on the ground, exactly the same as hers.
"Don't worry, Miss Smith," Jane reassured her as she gently lowered her down. "Most people have a hard time dealing with this spell."
Lily Smith was really charming, Associate Professor Undead thought, watching her clean her clothes with her now only magic wand. She had shown enviable skill in duelling, especially considering she was barely sixteen years old. If the other students were like her, for Jane teaching would come to just showing them the spells once and then lazing behind her desk while the students learned them. It was a pity things didn't happen like that in real life. They would probably have forgotten almost everything.
Amidst loud applause, Jane awarded Ravenclaw fifteen points before sending Lily away. Then she folded her arms and turned sternly to the others.
"As you have already risen, please line up in pairs against each other. I want you to show me the part with the "Incacerus" and "Rictosempra" spells.
She pushed the desks against the wall with a swipe of her wand, and a few seconds later most of the students were already rolling on the ground: half of them bursting into laughter and the others tightly wrapped in thin ropes. The teacher sadly shook her head.
"What have you done?!", she whimpered as she passed between them, breaking the spells. "You were supposed to neutralize them, not wrap yourself in them." She glared at a student with luxuriant blond hair lying on the ground, tightly held by a tropical liana, which was slightly waving its tentacles. "Finite Incantatem!"
"Come on, line up again," Jane said after everyone had been released from the spells. "You'll show me slowly, one by one, so I can correct you in time."
The rest of the lesson was spent rectifying the students' movements, showing the correct pronunciation and directing, while practically everyone learned to apply the spells. At least they understood quickly, Jane thought comfortingly. Obviously, there was no one to teach them right. Most of them seemed incredibly relieved when the end-of-class bell rang and the teacher had to let them go. She walked wearily to the small office next to the classroom to review a few things she would need for her next lesson with Hufflepuff's fourth grade. Even though she begot a sudden headache, every time she imagined how badly they would do.
A few hours and two lessons later, Jane was almost dragging herself to the Great Hall. She had lingered so much with some of the perhaps most untalented students of all time that she had to miss lunch again. As a result, she was so hungry now that she could probably handle two or three portions without a problem. But even though she was at the end of her strength, for the first time in so many years, she felt content with herself. It had been so long since she had last done something useful and constructive, instead of just hiding. How long it had taken her, she thought, to stop running even from her shadow and instead come to Hogwarts.
When she entered the Great Hall, there was a joyful noise everywhere. The aroma of various dishes wafted over the tables, and there was something warm in the air that made her relax and feel much more refreshed than she was a few minutes ago.
After walking the distance to the High Table, wading through the Slytherins and the Hufflepuffs, Jane sat down in her seat with undisguised satisfaction and greeted her neighbours as she poured herself a few meals. It was not difficult for her to handle her portion of meat pie, a large amount of baked potatoes, and salad, which she watered with a lot of pumpkin juice. Her neighbours at the table had finished their meals, so Jane decided to talk to them. Soon everyone was done with their dinner and the Great Hall was filled with joy and laughter. The students, too, had begun to talk and jest, shouting at each other over the long tables. The atmosphere was cheerful and full of merriment, except for a small detail. There was a terrible commotion at one end of the hall. It didn't take long for Jane to realize that it was coming from the Ravenclaw table. With endless astonishment, she looked over and stared intently, her eyes fixed on a few strange sights. In the middle of the table, there was a mountain of cake that the students had made. A jug of pumpkin juice hovered over it with a slight sway. Nearby, five Ravenclaws were throwing each other a Rememberall, and a very confused cat was meowing from under the table.
Associate Professor Undead looked away. She couldn't believe her eyes. She soon felt someone's gaze cling to her and turned just in time to see the triumphant expression on Professor Snape's face.
"I've warned you," he said in a feigned edifying tone and pursed his thin lips in a slight smile.
She mumbled something in response and turned to Professor Flitwick, who was watching the students with a bored look.
"It's every evening, Jane," he explained indifferently. "I'm going to the prefects to tell them they have to scold the students. It would be more useful if we could take away points from them, but Professor Dumbledore does not allow it. That's because the tricksters do not admit who exactly did the magic."
Jane remembered her morning conversation with Professor Flitwick, and an idea suddenly occurred to her.
"Professor, I think I've come up with something for the magic club."
"Very well." He smiled broadly. "Let me just go there because they've already gone too far."
After calming down the Ravenclaw table, which did not go without threats of taking points away, and finally, Jane even had to take the cat because no one knew exactly who it belonged to, the two teachers spent the evening discussing their ideas for the future magic club. The students and the other teachers slowly dispersed, until at last, only a few people remained in the whole hall. At one point, a short Hufflepuff freshman hesitantly approached the High Table and asked in a thin voice if his cat could be returned to him, which made Professor Flitwick and Associate Professor Undead laugh before handing the animal over to its owner. Soon Professor Snape left, too, giving her a very peculiar look, which she scarcely saw with her peripheral vision, and waved him goodbye.
So first he refused her, and the next evening he looked at her in a strange way because she didn't pay attention to him, she thought. Well, let him watch, she decided eventually and focused on talking to Professor Flitwick. Soon she found herself so absorbed in the plans for the club that she began taking notes on the back of the parchment with the programme.
Although she was at the end of her strength, she was very pleased when she finally left the Great Hall. When she applied for the position, she had no idea how many opportunities would open up for her.
To Jane's surprise, her new job went smoothly. The students liked her, her colleagues greeted her more and more often, and some of her skills turned out to be quite useful. She had never imagined that spells pulled out from dusty books and amended on the go could be useful for the Defence Against the Dark Arts classes. And she knew so much of them. Due to the differences in the preparation and skills of the different students and especially due to the limited abilities of the Hufflepuffs, some spells had to drop out, but most of them immediately joined the programme for the magic club. She had so many ideas, and Professor Flitwick was even more enthusiastic than she was, so the programme for the club was ready just two weeks after the beginning of the school year.
Three-quarters of the school had come to the first meeting, dying to see what they would be taught there. After the demonstration of a series of new spells between Professor Flitwick and Associate Professor Undead, using only their left hands, the students were so excited that they all signed up for the club. Soon it had to be divided into two: for the younger and the older students, and later they would probably have to establish a new duelling club.
In addition to her formal duties, the teacher soon discovered that she had acquired a large number of informal ones. The Gray Lady had persuaded Jane to help her write her memoirs, and one of the professors, named Hagrid, often invited her to accompany him to Hogsmeade and London, from where he obtained his textbooks. And once they found out how well she was dealing with Muggle stuff, half the faculty began begging her to fix something for them.
Soon the teacher found herself without a single free minute and was already thinking about the possibility of looking for a Time-Turner in the black market. Still, she hoped that the number of broken teacher's items would eventually come to an end, and the curiosity toward her would soon diminish, so she gritted her teeth and did whatever was required of her without complaining. However, this also had its advantages. Sometimes she was so busy all day long that she forgot to think about Frank and the boys, which was good. Once, during dessert in the Great Hall, however, she remembered her promise to bake biscuits for Professor Snape and she was overwhelmed by guilt. The feeling that she could be useful had made her slip away, and now she had to correct her mistake as quickly as possible. But she had to find the time for that. After much consideration, she decided to approach the problem professionally, informing the headmaster of her intention and asking him to excuse her in front of the others for a day. That day had to be a holiday and, if possible, she should be able to slip off from the Gray Lady as quickly as she could. Maybe next Sunday would be best. So on Friday morning, Jane waited for Professor Snape to leave the Great Hall for the first class and only then approached the principal.
"Professor Dumbledore," she said, "I'd like to ask you for a favour."
"Yes, Jane. You can call me Albus when we're unofficial." The headmaster smiled ingratiatingly. He stared into her eyes, as if trying to read something in her mind, but then he seemed to give up. "I know that you're used to calling me 'professor' since you were a student, but I insist."
"All right, uh... Albus." Jane noticed Professor McGonagall's smile, but then focused on her prepared speech. "I wanted to ask permission to use the kitchen this Sunday. The food here is wonderful, but I miss the biscuits my aunt used to bake. I would like to make myself some."
"I see." The headmaster stroked his beard thoughtfully. "But I don't remember having a case like that recently. It's quite unusual."
"You can subtract the consumables from my salary, I think that would be just. In addition, the house-elves will watch over me so I won't make a mess."
For a while, the headmaster seemed lost in thought. Then he looked at Professor McGonagall sitting next to him and asked, "What do you say, Minerva? Should we let our kind associated professor in the kitchen?"
"I think we owe it to her, professor," said his colleague cheerfully. "Especially after we ailed her like that with the repair of the radio in the headmaster's office."
Jane put a hand to her mouth to hide her laughter. Several of the teachers looked at her reproachfully, but in this case, she simply could not contain her reactions, formed during her school years. It was certainly a comical sight to see the three professors, including her, surrounding the old-fashioned apparatus inspecting it from all sides and checking which circuits were healthy and which needed replacement. Even the Muggle Studies teacher had come to watch and give advice. Jane appreciated that. After all, she was an empiric, not an engineer.
"So it's decided." Professor Dumbledore smiled knowingly. He didn't seem to pay any attention to her laughter, though. "But no payroll subtractions."
"But, professor..." she tried to argue.
"No 'buts'. Instead, I hope you'll allow me and Minerva to come by some time on Sunday and have a few biscuits."
"Of course, professor... Albus. As much as you want. I'll make sure there's enough."
Once the matter was resolved, Jane worked hard all Saturday to catch up for the Sunday. She went to bed early in the evening, regretting that she had to postpone the repair of Professor Snape's small cassette player for another day during the week. If she hadn't been so tired, she would probably have taken care of it right away. She hated going to bed early, especially at the weekend, but she was so exhausted that she refused to argue with herself.
In the morning she woke up without the alarm clock. She put on one of her many well-worn robes, had a quick breakfast, then headed for the kitchen. It probably wasn't that hard to find it after drawing a map according to Professor Dumbledore's instructions, but she still managed to confuse the floor and turned twice in the wrong direction. When she finally arrived there, she was stopped at the entrance by two stern-looking house-elves who refused to let her inside. It was no longer allowed for anyone to enter the kitchen, teacher council's orders, they said, because a student had already managed to throw his sock into the dinner cauldron unnoticed. In her desperation, Jane invoked the principal's permission, emphasizing that she was a teacher, after all. But they didn't seem to believe her: there was a commotion, the elves began to argue with her interrupting each other, and eventually one of them went to ask Professor Dumbledore himself. When it returned, she was finally allowed in the kitchen.
As soon as she got inside, she inspected the pantry and, after finding what she needed, chose a counter near the bottom of the kitchen, wrapped her hair in a scarf that had previously belonged to her aunt Charlotte, and began kneading the dough. She had planned to bake the biscuits in two batches so that there would be enough for her and Professor Snape, as well as for the Professors Dumbledore and McGonagall. The headmaster himself came in shortly after she had started baking to see how things were going and if she had found everything she needed. Jane assured him that things were all right and informed him that in about half an hour there would be enough biscuits ready so that he could come and try them. The professor just smiled, sniffed the air, and announced that he could wait two hours for biscuits that smelled that well.
Jane rolled up her sleeves again and set about preparing the second batch. She'd already had a good recollection of the sequences required, which gave her plenty of time to think about other things. For example, Legilimence. When she was a student, she tried to hide this skill at all cost, but in the later stages of her life, it became irreplaceable. But now things were very different. Professor Dumbledore must have known about this from before, and now Professor Snape had learned. It wasn't that fatal as long as she ensured to close her mind every time she was in his company. When somebody peered into her mind, it made her so uncomfortable, as if she were standing naked in the middle of a busy square. Even worse, because nudity had never bothered her much, even when she was a young maiden. But for her, covering her mind was commonplace, so it didn't cost her much effort.
The flow of her thoughts was interrupted by a discreet knock on the front door. She removed a lock of tousled hair from her face and looked up just in time to see Professor McGonagall entering the kitchen.
"Hello, professor!" She greeted, waving a hand that sprinkled flour.
"Good morning, associate professor!", the other woman replied cheerfully, pretending not to notice the flour. "Professor Dumbledore sent me to inquire about the progress of the biscuits."
"If you just wait a minute." Jane wiped her hands and went to peek into the oven. "I think they're ready now."
Then she waved her wand in the direction of the oven, from where a large tray flew over her head. For a split second the tray crossed half the room and landed softly on the already prepared wooden board.
"Good manoeuvre," the professor admired.
"Ah, just a twopence my aunt taught me. Maybe you know her, her name is Charlotte Undead."
"I remember her very well. She was in my year. We called her 'Charlotte the Stick', but don't divulge me. She was very slender at the time."
"She's not very ample now either," Jane said with a laugh. "But I promise not to tell her. Well, I think it's safe to try the biscuits now."
She filled a medium-sized porcelain plate to the brim with freshly baked biscuits and handed it to the other witch.
"Be careful, they're still steaming," Jane warned.
Professor McGonagall pulled out her wand and chilled one biscuit. Then she took a bite. "It's very tasty," she said approvingly. "Apparently your aunt Charlotte has managed to pass on her culinary talent to you."
"Thank you," Undead said, handing her the plate. "Please take this to Professor Dumbledore. I hope he likes it."
"Don't we know each other from before, too?" Professor McGonagall stopped at the door. "I remember you played in some kind of a band."
"Yes, and you came to some of our concerts. But I don't think you taught me Transfiguration."
"No," Professor McGonagall shook her head. "I would remember."
It had been less than five minutes since Jane had returned to making the second batch when a hinge creaked. She glanced at the door but didn't see anything. She looked around and only then she noticed the side door, next to which stood a plump witch.
"Good afternoon, Professor Sprout," said Associate Professor Undead. "What brings you here?"
"Ah, good afternoon, Associate Professor Undead. Sometimes I take a bit of organic waste and mix it with the fertilizer for my plants. My Mandrakes love old bread and spoiled pumpkin juice."
"Well, I decided to make some biscuits. Have some." Jane handed her a plate full of already chilled biscuits.
"Thank you. Oh, they are very nice. You shouldn't have."
"You're welcome," Undead said, smiling.
After just half an hour, the side door opened again. This time it was Professor Hagrid who was coming over to get something for the Hippogriffs. Jane filled a paper bag for him and hurried to put the second batch into the oven.
During the rest of the morning, the entire teaching staff called by, some even came twice. Whether they were attracted by the aroma or someone had told them, Jane didn't know, but she had to bake a few more trays to make enough biscuits for everyone. Eventually, she even got two female assistants to help her knead the dough and wash the dishes. The last trays were ready without her even lifting a finger. She just sat in a low chair and gave instructions.
After the others left, Jane continued to sit thoughtfully in her chair, absently chewing on a biscuit. She had to go change for lunch, but a few more minutes of sitting wouldn't change anything, so she wasn't in a hurry. When there was a knock on the front door, she decided it was Professor Dumbledore again, so she shouted boldly, "Come in!" However, in the doorway appeared Professor Snape, dressed in a clean nice black robe. Jane swallowed the biscuit quickly and began shaking out her clothes, which was of little use.
"Hi, Severus," she said, taking a step back, nearly tripping in her chair. That was quite strange.
"Hello, Jane." His voice sounded a little proud, but it was pleasant.
"I wanted it to be a surprise, but apparently someone told you."
"Told me what?"
"Well, about the biscuits. I decided to bake you some to thank you for the day you brought me around."
"I don't think that's necessary," he said so softly she could barely hear him.
"It doesn't matter, have some." Jane handed him some biscuits on a plate as she put the others into a large envelope made of wrapping paper. "If you don't like them, you can give them to your owl or something like that."
He looked as if he was about to say something else, but he seemed to reconsider it, because he just whispered, "That's very kind of you."
At that moment, the headmaster did come in, and Jane hurried to look at him. She would probably blush, too, if she could. And the headmaster looked at her in a particular way, as if his cat was about to give birth to ten kittens at once. Who knows what was he thinking, seeing her talking to Professor Snape, dropping biscuits on the floor and with such a mess in her head.
She relaxed only when the two men left the room. She would rather hide somewhere a thousand times before letting Professor Snape see her in her dirty work clothes.
However, Snape turned out to be a hard nut. He showed virtually no emotions, while Jane expressed hers sometimes too obviously. He was kind, polite, but nothing more. Undead was so confused that she avoided talking to him for three whole days. Did she really like him? Or had she just been without a man long enough that she could no longer judge soberly? When she spoke to him, she usually managed to impose herself some discipline, so she thought no one would notice. But during the day she happened to think about him at the most unusual times – when she was in class or even before falling asleep. She still remembered her vow after Frank and the boys abandoned her. "No more men and no more dependence on anyone else," she had told herself, and so far she was able to follow it. But for how long?
"Jane," Severus interrupted her once at dinner. "Would you mind if you came to look at my cassette player tomorrow? Whatever tape I put inside, it immediately starts chewing it and I can't fix it with any magic."
"Of course I'll come." The promise quickly slipped from her mouth. "But I have a problem. There are a few spells I'm preparing for the club and I'm not sure whether they'll work. I wanted to try them on someone, but I don't know whom to ask. Professor Flitwick would help, but right now he's got some work to do…"
"And how many are these spells?"
"Not many."
"Do you think half an hour would be enough?"
"Definitely. You're not volunteering, are you?"
"Since it's just for a few spells. And if you promise not to draw your sword."
'So he has remembered', Jane thought feverishly. And before even realizing it, she was already saying out loud, "We can go now after dinner. A classroom would do."
The classroom they chose was located on the third floor, and it was probably a Herbology classroom because it smelled of medicinal plants. As they entered, Snape pushed Jane's hand slightly, perhaps not on purpose, but she shivered. She hadn't felt that way in a long time, even kissing some boys was less tangible than that touch. As they stood at the opposite ends of the room, she calmed down and closed her eyes to recall the spells. She rolled up her sleeves and bowed over the wand that appeared in her hand. She signalled and attacked. As they had agreed, Professor Snape did not intervene in any way. That's why it wasn't surprising for either of them when his hair protruded in all directions as if electrified, nor when his robe turned pink. The third spell created a shield around him, which, as it turned out, could only be broken by a strong spell. However, the activity was so fascinating that soon the two of them were casting spells against each other just like in a duel. This made Jane feel almost normal, duelling had been a passion of hers since her school years, and now she was confidently targeting her opponent with carefully chosen spells.
"You're good," Snape told her encouragingly, throwing a curse at her.
"You're not bad yourself," Undead repelled it with enviable speed. After they exchanged a few more spells, she was feeling so well that she wanted to jump around.
"Jane, is everything okay?" Professor Snape had put his wand in his pocket and was approaching her.
"Yes, why do you ask? Everything is great."
"I think you're bleeding from your nose. Stay like that."
Jane ran her index finger over her lip and stared questioningly at the sticky red liquid.
"I think you've hit me with a curse," she said slowly.
"I have not used such a curse. At most, it was something Leg-Locking. And I thought you had avoided it."
Jane just shook her head.
"Sit here." Snape hurried to offer her one of the chairs. "Here, lean against the window. Why didn't I take a decoction with me?! Wait for me here, I'll bring it to you right away."
Jane looked out the window just to do something. The blood running from her nose, until recently just a strip, had already become a stream, but she did not wipe it because she knew it would be of no use. Instead, she watched the spiders, which had entangled countless threads between the window's glasses, all of them dead. Suddenly she felt very exhausted and sad, and, powerless to fight her emotions, she folded her head on her lap and cried. That's how Professor Snape found her when he returned from the dungeon with a glass of decoction in his hand.
"Don't cry, I can't stand it," he said, visibly annoyed. "Besides, you are getting your clothes filthy."
Jane looked up, her face all dirty and red, and looked at him through her bloodied glasses. "The spiders," she pointed toward the window. "They're all dead."
She tried to shake her head, but that only spread more blood on her clothes. She couldn't calm down completely, so she buried her face in her robe again and continued to cry softly. She soon felt his hand on her shoulder. Snape did just that, not uttering a word. When she calmed down, she raised her head again and looked him in the eyes, searching for a trace of any feelings or thoughts. But they expressed nothing. His eyes were impersonal as usual, but Jane knew he was trying to soothe her.
"Now drink your potion and it will pass," he said calmly, trying not to look at the window, probably so as not to provoke another outburst on her part. "It's just the blood loss."
Associate Professor Undead sobbed once more, took a breath, and drank the bitter liquid at once. She vaguely remembered previous occasions when she had been hit by curses. She could barely make a decoction back then, but sometimes she lacked the ingredients or felt too exhausted and had to recover slowly and painfully for several days. Now would be all over in minutes. She closed her eyes for a moment. That was good because she could no longer see the poor harvesters standing like stuffed on their cobwebs. She could only hear the professor cleaning her blood from the floor. When she felt something on her face, she opened her eyes and blinked.
"I've cleaned your face," Snape answered her unasked question. "But you'll have to wash your clothes. If I try to clean them, they will only dry out and the stains will become more difficult to remove."
"Thank you again, Severus," Jane said, looking sadly at what was left of her only new robe.
"You can save it," Snape told her, smiling slightly. "I did it because I knew I'd have to take your classes tomorrow if you didn't get better. Now, I hope, you are in excellent health and this danger does not threaten me anymore."
Jane laughed and a small trickle of blood ran from her nose, but it quickly dried.
"You're right," she said with a laugh. "One must think practically."
She really liked Professor Snape, she realized at that moment, and maybe he liked her, too. It was strange and at the same time amazing how they got along with half of a spoken word, even though she didn't let him in her head. It was as if they just thought alike. Regaining a clarity of mind, Jane recalled what had happened a moment ago and felt ashamed. How could she whine about some spiders who, although unlucky in their lives, were just dead arthropods and nothing more?!
"Let's go home now," she said cheerfully, trying to put the situation behind them. Maybe someone had to take her and tie her up somewhere so she wouldn't do any more nonsense. "I start early tomorrow."