She woke up late the next morning, nearly jumping out of bed and rushing to change in order to make it in time for breakfast before class. Not that she even knew which class she had first! – their schedules were to be given out during breakfast…if she had not already missed it. To her further annoyance, the bedroom she shared in the Gryffindor tower with the five other girls in her class was completely empty. Why had Eowyn not woken her!
Sigrid ran down the stairs two steps at a time, nearly knocking over a second-year student that had been peacefully making his way up the portrait whole. "Why such a hurry?" The Fat Lady had laughed at her, but she thoroughly ignored her, already making her way down the labyrinth of staircases, trying not to listen to the comments she received from the many wizards and witches hanging on the walls, who kept finding it humorous that she was so obviously late.
The Great Hall was already full with students when she arrived, but to her slight relief breakfast did not seem even close to being over. Letting out a relieved sigh, she let her fingers slide through her visibly tangled curls, pulling them up into a messy bun as she made her way to where Eowyn sat already at the long Gryffindor table.
"Why did you not wake me?" She complained, her deep brown eyes staring accusingly into her friends mild gray ones, helping herself to a slightly burnt toast – it seems that all the un-burned ones had already been eaten. Chatter flowed in the expanse of the Great Hall, cheering up the morning with the expectations of a new academic year.
"I did not think you would wake up late." Was the only answer she got, Eowyn handing her a piece of parchment. "Here, I got your schedule. Our first period is Divination – how awful is that?"
Her eyes lowered to the fine scriptures on the parchment only to find the first two time slots under the Monday column filled with the delicate letters that read DIVIATION, and it was with the Ravenclaw students.
"Do we have the same classes this year too?" She asked matter of factly, giving up on trying to bite the toast that only kept crumbling into her mouth in dry dust.
"Yeah. I already checked. And we also have most of them with the twins."
Her warm eyes searched almost absently down the long Gryffindor table, noticing both Elladna and Elrohir hunched over the same edition of the Daly Prophet, seeming to be reading it intently. A slight frown creased on her delicate eyebrows as she became aware that the twins were not the only students perched over the wizarding newspaper. On the contrary, it seemed that every student in the Great Hall was reading over it, some of them gathered in groups as one student read out loud, whispers and murmurs traveling from ear to ear until they bounded up the deaf stone walls and disappeared through the sunny enchanted ceiling above.
"Un-believable" Elladan said as he pushed the Daily Prophet back against the table, sitting back on his chair with an expression she found hard to read.
"What is it?" She asked, already too curious for her own good.
"Eowyn you've got to see this." Elrhoir stood up, carelessly sliding the newspaper across the table and nearly knocking over at least three cups of pumpkin juice in the process, saved only by their quick owners who were always fast to react whenever any of the twins was concerned.
Sigrid's pale hand reached for the paper first, quickly placing it on the table in between Eowyn and her, so that they both could read what it said.
"Has someone escaped from Azkaban?" She heard Eowyn's soft voice next to her, the sound dripping with curiosity that only made her own grow. Sigrid did not answer, slender hands already flipping through the printed pages, trying to find any article that would merit the attention of nearly all of the school on the first morning of the term.
And sure enough she found it. There, right before her very eyes in page number twelve read the tittle
"EGLISH TEAM IN THE RUN FOR THE QUIDDITCH WORLD CUP".
Her eyes almost immediately started diving through the article, not giving the tittle a second thought.
"Yesterday evening England's Quidditch team's Coach, Philius Piers, happily announced that with their new seeker in hand, England's under seventeen Quidditch Team was once again in the run for the Junior World cup. "With Willinburg now being over eighteen years of age, we did not know if we would be able to find a suitable replacement. However we think we might have found a more than suitable fill for the empty spot. In fact, I am confident that Englad now has a very good chance of winning the cup this year." – shared Piers to the press last night. New English seeker, Thranduil Lasgalen, is a student crossing his sixth year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wrizardry, and plays the same part at the Slytherin House's Quidditch team. "His match records were very impressive, and we are always eager to welcome young students into the big league teams as most of the times they show the mot potential"- said Piers fondly of new seeker Lasgalen. – "Of course, he could have played for the Irish National team, being of Irish heritage from his Mother's side, but we feel confident that the Irish will not try to steal-
"What?" Eowyn's gasp made her stop reading mid-sentence as a pair of quick hands snatched the paper from her. Not that she needed to keep reading anything else, she already knew what the fuss that ran quietly over the Great Hall was about.
"He's playing professionally now? With the under-seventeen national team?" Eowynn's gray eyes turned expectantly form one twin to the other and Sigird fought the urge to roll her eyes at her friend's clear tone of dislike. With all honesty – even if Eowyn was her closest friend since childhood- Thranduil was a far better seeker than her. Not that Eowyn was not good, no, but still there had not been a single Gryffindor – Slytherin match in which she had managed to catch the snitch before Lasgalen. Not that she cared about who was playing for which team anyway.
"Is that even allowed?" Eowyn continued, her pride taking always the most of her.
"Why wouldn't be?" Aragorn chimed in, suddenly making her aware of his presence only some spots to her left. "He's not the first student to play national. Besides it has nothing to do with the in-school Quidditch Cup."
Sigrid did not pay any more attention to the conversation, her eyes wondering to the Slytherin table in the far back, but not finding the figure she had been looking for. She did find the younger Lasgalen brother though, Legolas – if she remembered correctly from the Sorting Ceremony the night before. He was sitting peacefully at the long table, not seeming to be even aware of the muttering going on around him as he chatted with the red-haired girl she usually saw next to Thranduil.
She ignored the conversation for the duration of breakfast, not really wanting to admit to anyone that even though she really enjoyed the sport, talking about Quidditch the whole morning was not her king of thing. And by the looks of it, today Quidditch would be the topic spoken of the entire day. She had never been good at playing it – in truth she was very bad. She could not even fly properly, preferring to have both of her feet firmly on the ground.
Divination class was exactly as she had anticipated it would be. The dimly lit room in the tower smelled intensely of strange herbs she had rather not known what they were, the usual trinkets and strange artifact dangling form the walls in a creepy manner that always made chills travel down her spine. Professor Trelawney – with her too large round glasses that made her eyes pop out more that necessary- had made them chart the alignment of the planets over the past sixty years, and try to predict what had their alignment forecasted. As usual she only had to come up with creative ways of announcing catastrophes and deaths to do a good job in class, trying hard to suppress her laughter as Elladan and Elrohir kept affirming that the precise positioning of Jupiter meant that the Giant Squid would grow legs and start teaching at Hogwarts – a thing that certainly didn't seem funny at all to Trelawney.
The muttering and gossiping about the Daily Prophet's article did not stop during their Care for Magical Creatures class, and neither for their double Transfiguration period after lunch- where McGonagall had once again managed to fill their schedules with unnecessary homework that would meant she would have to study late hours on her very first weekend.
It was now near the end of the day, and Sigrid found herself walking almost reluctantly next to the twins to the torturing double hors of Potions. She was not bad at Potions – in fact she was relatively good- but that did not mean she enjoyed the claustrophobic feel of the humid dungeon walls that echoed hollowly to their footsteps as they descended ample wet staircases and into the dreaded Potion's classroom. And only to make matters worse, her double Potion's hours was with the Slytherin students, which only meant that Snape would only pick on the Gryffindors.
Sigrid walked to the table farthest to the back, throwing her thick book on the surface – which lifted a cloud of gray dust – and proceeded to take out her cauldron and possible ingredients she would need for the class, Eowyn taking the seat next to her. As usual, the classroom was dimly lit by a frail greenish light, making the space seem sickening in a very revolting way, flasks with all sort of slimy things and strange plants filling the tilted shelves on the walls. Two lit torches were the only source of light for the underground room, their fire not doing anything to warm the humid cold that clung to her like a lovers embrace through the long shadows. As customary, the Slytherin fourth-year students filled the firsts rows of the classroom, the Gryffindors eager to hide in the darker back from Snape's piercing black eyes.
The wooden door closed with a sudden bang, making her jump slightly as her heart leapt abruptly. Silence fell in the room louder than a thunder, the black cloak of Professor Snape dragging behind him like a bat's wings as he strode to the front, greasy black hair framing his cold, severe face and hook-like nose. There was no space for further chatter, all of the student's looking intently at the front, as if they already dreaded the course that was about to start.
"Open your books in page 27." Snape's icy deep voice dragged languidly as he spoke, the chilled sound making her shudder slightly as his black hard eyes waltzed over the darkened room, seeming to see everything, not a detail escaping him.
Sigrid did not hesitate, fighting hard to suppress an annoyed sigh as she opened her brand-new copy of Potion Making Level Four in the indicated page, reading the procedures to making a Girding Potion.
"And you would think that he would waste any time in giving an introduction to the class before throwing us already into making potions again." Eowyn whispered lowly next to her.
"Is there something you would like to share with the class, miss Rohan?" Snape's voice trailed to them, and she watched Eowyn suddenly pale beside her, shaking her head no. "Then why do you not come sit at the front? Perhaps your class participation will then be audible to everyone in the room." One grayish long hand motioned solely to an empty place next a Slytherin student, Eowyn paling even more as she was forced to stand form her spot and sit all the way to the front, leaving Sigrid without a partner to complete the potion with.
"And ten points from Gryffindor due to miss Rohan's blabber."
Anger boiled inside of Sigrid's chest, her eyes flying to look at the twins who seemed about to stand up and protest if they did not know any better, and all she could do was focus her attention on the page so her book as to not do anything rash.
"Now, who can tell me-
Snape was interrupted by the sound of the heavy wooden doors suddenly being opened, a low muttering growing in the room as her eyes travelled to find no other than Thranduil Lasgalen walking firmly in Snapes' direction, ice blue eyes not stopping to look at the many gazes that followed his tall figure and muttered around him. She watched him handing Snape some sort of parchment, which Snape's cold black eyes scanned silently for a second before he spoke again.
"Silence." He commanded, and once again silence fell over the room in a single second, even if the many curious gazes remained glued at Thranduil's back. And she watched too, noticing how he did not seem to be paying any sort of attention to the penetrating stares that followed him, his long silvery hair flowing down his back in a perfect waterfall, standing some inches taller than Snape himself.
Without a single word, Snape's long bony hand motioned to the corner where she sat, his movements always slow and vaporous, as if he had all the time in the world to do as he pleased. Her stomach turned as she realized that the only place left in the room was the one next to her – where Eowyn had been previously sitting. She did not know what she felt, but certainly not comfortable as Thranduil's lean and tall figure silently took the seat next to her, his piercing blue eyes not even turning to look at her in acknowledgement, his face as composed and unreadable as ever and she turned her gaze back to the front feeling tenser than she had at the beginning of the lesson. What was he doing in their class? He was in his sixth year and this class was for the fourth-years. Had he failed and had to re-take it? Twice?
She felt even more revolted and angered as she watched Snape's eyes following Thranduil with a slight vicious smile, letting her immediately know that there would be favoritism in this class. There always was, usually biasing the Slytherins – as Snape was Head of their house- but with now Thranduil being the talk of the school there would be no doubt that he would be Snape's favored student in the class.
"As I was previously saying." Snape continued, all eyes once again focusing on his bat-like figure at the front "Who can tell me what the function of a Girding Potion is?"
She watched all eyes turn to look down at the books, clearly no one wanting to make eye-contact and be called on by Snape.
"Nobody?"
She raised her hand, not really knowing what mad her do it.
"Yes, miss-"
"Bowman" She said, feeling another pang of anger at Snape's clear disinterest in even learning her name. She had been in his class for three years now!
"Yes, miss Bowman?"
"The Girding Potion may be consumed to increase one's endurance for a considerable number of weeks." She spoke, her voice sounding frailer than she would have liked, clearly showing the lack of confidence she was feeling under Snape's penetrating eyes.
"Almost copied from the textbook. Now tell me miss, Bowman, will your lack or creativity or ability to think of ways of phrasing words by yourself interfere with your performance during this class?" Anger boiled inside of her, raging in her veins worse than before, making her regret thinking that getting a correct answer would be possible in Snape's class. She did not answer the question that had been thrown unjustly at her, knowing that it was better to hold her tongue than trying to say anything else for the duration of the class.
"Perhaps it is indeed a good thing that Mr. Lasgalen is sitting next to you. Maybe you will actually learn something this year."
Her eyes flew to glare at the pages of her book, not daring to look anywhere else as she dug her nails into her fists in rage. Snape continued speaking, but she was no longer paying attention, simply focusing on trying not to yell anger as she took her quill and started to angrily scratch over her piece of parchment, making it seem she was taking notes. She dared lift her eyes only tentatively in Thranduil's direction, his pale unreadable face still gazing straight at the front, not single reaction to what Snape had said visible on those angular features.
He simply sat there, next to her, without eve acknowledging that there was anyone next to him, so arrogant, the emerald lining of his Slytherin robes contrasting sharply against the icy blue color of his impenetrable irises. He had not even opened his book, but she doubted that he would need to put any kind of effort in this class in order to get a perfect score. It made her stomach turn even more, and she once again set herself to scratching her parchment with her quill, thoroughly ignoring what Snape continued to say.
"-Am I correct, Ms. Bowman?"
Her head shot up, eyes glancing at the clock to find out that she had zoned out for about half and hour of what Snape had been saying, the Professor's expectant black eyes staring maliciously at her, lips smiling at the answer he knew she could not give him. Sigrid stayed silent, not daring to break the eye-contact but not daring to open her mouth. She had not heard what Snape had been saying and had no idea what it was that had been asked to her.
"Were you not paying attention?" The Potion's Professor's cold voice dripped with victory as he kept questioning her, greasy hair falling over his too pale face. "Can you not tell me the effect that dragonfly thoraxes have on poison remedy potions?"
She shook her head, wishing she could answer the question but not knowing the answer. To her further annoyance, Snape's smile only grew slightly.
"Pity." He said, cold dripping form his voice and clinging to the massive stone walls. "Perhaps Mr. Lasgalen would have the trouble of enlightening you. Care to tell Ms. Bowman what are the effects of dragonfly thoraxes on poison remedies, Mr. Lasgalen?
Snape's victorious eyes turned to look at the Slytherin seeker sitting next to her, and she lowered her gaze in shame and anger as she waited for Snape's clearly favored student to answer the question she could not.
"I don't know, sir." She lifted her eyes, looking at Snape's slightly surprised face. Next to her, Thranduil remained as stoic and unreadable as ever, ice blue eyes staring at Snape blankly as his deep voice echoed quietly in the room.
"You do not know?" Snape repeated slowly, as if not wanting to believe the answer he had been given, mouth twisting in cold disappointment.
"No, sir." Thranduil repeated, his face still unreadable, eyes impenetrable.
"The dragonfly thoraxes are…" Snape's voice trailed off around the silent room, merely continuing through his class as if Thranduil had delivered a perfect answer, and it once again made her veins boil to find out that Slythering had not lost any points because of that. Had it been Gryffindor she was sure Snape would have subtracted at least fifty points for that blunt answer. And yet, as her eyes wondered over the table she shared with the tall Slytherin Seeker and fell over the parchment where he had been silently taking notes in his perfectly tilted calligraphy, her eyes could neatly read down at the bottom of the page all the things that Snape had previously said about dragonfly thoraxes. He had known the answer. He had notes on it on his parchement. Then why had he not said he knew?
At that moment, however, the enchanted clock on the wall announced the end of classes, students eagerly standing up before Snape could say anything and quickly packing their books back in their bags. Beside her, Thranduil quickly stood up, once again not even bothering to look at her – or at anyone for that matter- fastly gathering his things and striding outside the room before anyone else.
"I hate Snape." Elladan complained as they tiredly made their way up the stairs form the dungeons.
"He made me sit at the front!" Eowyn joined in the rain of complaints that had been falling out of the twins mouth's ever since they left the classroom. "And he kept picking on you, Sig!"
"Yeah, he did." She said, no longer finding herself angered, her hunger taking control of her at the moment, eager to arrive to the Great Hall.
"Oh but his face when his star student Lasgalen could not answer his question was the best I've seen in a while." Eowyn continued, and she did not miss the disgust in her friend's voice as she pronounced the Slytherin Seeker's name.
"Yeah, that was the best." She agreed half-heartedly, already zoning out on some sort of gossip that Elladan and Elrohir were rambling about. She did not know why, but she had not wanted to say to Eowyn that Thranduil had indeed known the answer Snape's question. He had not done so in class. But then why?
Here's the second chapter! I hope you enjoy it! Let me know what you think!
Love,
Elena