Disclaimer: I do not own any of the people or places that belong to the wonderful world of Harry Potter, as they belong to J.K. Rowling. The OCs are entirely my own.
Chapter 5: Cruel Children's Games
The winter winds had come early that year; skies clouded over and piled several inches of snow onto the Hogwarts grounds. Normally the students would find this time of year wondrous, but with the harsh winds that blew in across the lake, the majority of the castle's residents nestled themselves in for a long season.
As Christmas grew near, Severus found himself looking forward to his Slytherins, as well as the rest of the student body's, departure. The classes had become almost unbearable to be in, as they began to rapidly lose focus on their work as the holiday approached. He was grateful to have the knowledge that almost all Slytherins returned home, so his duties would be minimum to null, and he could hole himself up in his own quarters and drink the next few weeks away.
Since the first of November, Eva had retreated back into her own; never attempting to converse with the potions master again. She would do her work and answer when called on, but that was all. Severus wondered what her home life pertained to. He knew that she was an only child, thrown into the hands of her uncle after the untimely death of her parents. Albus had told him that her uncle was a single, middle-aged Muggle, who, despite having had a fallout with his brother years before, had readily taken his niece into his home.
Was it for the benefits?
'Probably,' Severus sneered to himself, figuring the man was collecting a hefty Muggle welfare check because of the girl.
There hadn't been anymore problems in his classroom, surrounding the word 'Mudblood,' since the detention incident, and no other professors had reported any problems either. But Severus wasn't so convinced about what went on in the common room; the prefects always claimed that everything was fine. But he didn't always believe them.
A majority of the Slytherins were still children of Death Eaters, or had brothers who followed the Dark Lord. The last thing they cared about was the safety of a Muggleborn.
Nearing the final week before the holidays, Severus noticed a slight change in Ms. Harrison's appearance. Although her face and hair remained the same, he noticed that her uniform was shorter; and later had confirmed with McGonagall, that she had noticed as well.
"I believe Ms. Harrison has had a late growth spurt," Pomona Sprout commented at the staff table one evening. "I suppose she will be off to Diagon Alley to be fitted for new robes during the holidays."
"Somehow I highly doubt that Ponoma," Minerva McGonagall replied with a rather sour look upon her face. "Those are the same robes that she's had since second year!"
"Are you quite certain Minerva?" Filius Flitwick piped up; his miniature fork hovering near his mouth.
"If you remember Filius, the girl came back in her second year with robes two times her own size," Minerva exclaimed, as Severus listened to them quietly.
"The poor girl was drowning in them when she came to my first class that year," Minerva continued, pursing her lips tightly together. "Second hand at it too! Poor thing."
"If she's that bad off, think of the Weasleys that will start coming through soon," Filius sighed. "Seven! The eldest is due to start this coming fall!"
By that point Severus tuned out their conversation. By the sound of it, the girl's uncle was either neglectful or poor himself. Either way, the girl seemed to be suffering the same fate he had had in school.
Second hand robes...
Second hand books...
She was rather thin at the beginning of the year, but had luckily gained a little meat on her bones due to the Hogwarts cooking. For some reason Severus felt that he needed more information. He needed to know more about the girl's home life.
"Who delivered her letter?" Severus asked, interrupting the other professors from their conversation.
"What, Severus?" Minerva murmured, as the others starred at Severus with wide eyes. He rarely ever talked at the dinner table; except for the occasional 'yes', 'no' answers that he gave to the others' questions.
"Who. Delivered. Ms. Harrison's. Letter?" Severus snarled, gripping his fork and knife tightly in his hands.
"Well, I did," Minerva scoffed, narrowing her eyes at the young professor. "Why do you wish to know Severus?"
"Tell me," Severus continued, ignoring Minerva's untrusting glare. "What was her home life like?"
"Well, normal, I suppose," Minerva bristled, as she folded her hands on the table. "Parents were a bit overwhelmed by the whole thought of magic in general, but that is normal for most Muggleborn families."
"Parents?"
"Yes, her parents," Minerva stated sternly. "They were still alive when I delivered her letter. It wasn't till after the hols of that year when they died."
"Then who met with her uncle?" Severus sneered at the Scottish witch.
"Albus did," Minerva said, still eyeing Severus warily. "And Horace I believe, since he was her Head of House at the time...Why do you ask?"
"And what of he?" Severus continued, ignoring Minerva's question. "Did he accept her magic? And has anyone ever seen her with others outside of class?"
"And again, why do you ask?" Minerva said through pursed lips.
"Because I wish to know the welfare of my students!" Severus hissed, as he threw down his napkin onto the tabletop and hastily pushed his chair back, before rising swiftly.
"Is that too much to ask!?" he bellowed, before storming out of the Great Hall; leaving the professors at the dinner table in shock.
The sea of students that were still at dinner, went silent; eyeing the professors' table warily, but before long, the chatter resumed in hushed whispered about what had possibly made the Potions Master so angry.
"Colonel Brandon, the friend of Sir John, seemed no more adapted by resemblance of manner to be his friend, than Lady Middleton was to be his wife, or Mrs. Jennings to be Lady Middleton's mother. He was silent and grave. His appearance however was not unpleasing, in spite of his being in the opinion of Marianne and Margaret an absolute old bachelor, for he was on the wrong side of five and thirty; but though his face was not handsome, his countenance was sensible, and his address was particularly gentlemanlike."
"Well, well, well! If it isn't the Mudblood with her nose buried in another book."
Eva cringed behind her leather-bound tome. She knew that obnoxious voice anywhere; she heard it when she rose in the morning, and before she fell asleep at night. Every night.
"Hey Mudblood!" Eva peered up slowly, taking in the sight of a pudgy faced blonde, with watery blue eyes and a squished nose.
Medea Lamia...
Fifth year Slytherin...
Pureblood...
And Eva's dormmate to boot.
Her name fit her well. Medea, being derived from the Greek as a planner. She was always planning something. Whether it be her wedding to seventh year, Albert Runcorn; or in which way she was going to terrorize Eva today. Her last name, Lamia, also did her justice. Another Greek name of an evil spirit who abducts and devours children. She certainly did her share of that to the younger years.
"What are you staring at, you piece of filth?" Medea sneered, as her group of bullies joined her; surrounding Eva from all sides. Violet Fillinger was no doubt the largest of the girls; she wasn't fast, but if she caught you it usually meant a trip to the hospital wing. Haize Schuller and Phillida Marseille were pretty much the cronies; holding the victims down for Violet to pummel or laughing at Medea's unsavory remarks. Eva knew the four girls all too well now, but it didn't make it any easier.
"Nothing important," Eva whispered, but frozen in spite of herself. If there was one thing Medea had, it was impeccable hearing. 'Oh no.'
"You'll pay for that Mudblood," Medea growled, as she ripped the book from Eva's hands. But before Eva could as so much move a muscle, Haize and Phillida were upon her; ripping her woolen cloak from her person and pinning her arms to the rough surface of the willow tree that she had sat against. Eva flailed her legs trying to break free, but Violet had pulled her wand and muttered a leg-locking curse to stop her.
"Well, what do we have here?" Medea asked in a now sickening sweet voice, as she held Eva's book out in front of her. She held it with her thumb and index finger, looking at it with full disgust. "Is this a filthy Muggle book?"
"Eww," the other four girls chorused around her. Grimacing as though they had to gut flobberworms for Professor Snape.
"Well the, perhaps we should dispose of it," Medea smiled wildly, as she flipped the book open half way and began grasping a few pages in her pudgy fingers.
"No!" Eva yelped; her green eyes widening in horror as the first few pages began to rip and tear under Medea's digits. "Please don't!"
"Oh look! She's going to cry!" Haize exclaimed with glee, as she pressed her poorly manicured fingernails into Eva's arms. The four girls cackles began to draw a small crowd around the willow, as Medea slowly ripped a few more pages from its' spine. Eva could feel the tears escaping now, running down her pale cheeks and dropping on to her heavy woolen trousers.
"Please, it was my mother's!"
"Oh, it was your mummy's?" Medea cooed mockingly. "Well in that case, it is much filthier than we thought!" And with that, the blonde dropped the book to the snow covered ground and spat upon it. But it was the sight of Medea pulling her wand from beneath her robes that made Eva began to trash against her captures again. She could now feel Haize's nails begin to draw blood, and Phillida's hands twisting her forearm, causing it to bruise. Violet began to pound her fist against her other open palm, readying herself for Medea's command.
With a malicious gleam in her watery blue eyes, Medea muttered a curse that made Eva's heart stop.
"Incendio."
A jet of fire burst forth from Medea's wand and set the leather tome ablaze. The crowd laughed and jeered, causing Medea to smile victoriously...
But only for a moment...
"And pray tell what is happening here." The sea of students scattered at the sound of the voice, that belonged to, no other than, Professor Snape. "Schuller, Marseille, unhand Miss Harrison.
"Lamia!" He snapped. "What is the meaning of this?"
"It's really nothing Professor," Medea said sweetly. "We were just having a bit of fun, right Harrison?"
But Eva didn't respond. Instead her eyes remained focused on the small pile of ashes that was now her book. Tears continued to track down her cheeks. Severus took in the sight of her...
The tears...
The small trickle of blood on her right arm...
The 'Snake Bite Burns' upon her left...
"Fifty points from all four of you," Severus growled, turning on the four fifth years. "And detention for the entire month of January with Mr. Filch, when you return from break.
"Now," his voice lowered and his black eyes narrowed. "I suggest you return to your common room...immediately."
The four bullies scrambled; retreating as fast as they could up the hill towards the school; slipping on the fresh fallen snow. At the sight of their fleeing forms, Severus let out a deep sigh.
"Miss Harrison," Severus began, as he turned around to address the girl. But she was already gone. All that remained was her torn, abandoned winter cloak, and a pile of ash. He frowned at the sight; unfortunately he could not fix the book, he knew it couldn't be anything else. But as his hands lifted the cloak, he paused.
It was thin...
Much too thin for Scottish winters. And there were holes and small tears in the sleeves and around the neck. There were a few buttons missing as well. He closed his eyes and sighed again.
"She's no better off than I was," he muttered to himself. As Severus turned to leave, a small rustling sound caught his attention. His black eyes narrowed in on the snowy white ground, only to find a small leaf of parchment stuck in a mound. Bending at the waist, his long gloved fingers deafly plucked the page form its' confinement.
It was most definitely a page from Miss Harrison's book; Severus assured himself, as he straightened up and scanned the paper.
'No. - He thinks Marianne's affection too deeply rooted for any change in it under a great length of time, and even supposing her heart again free, is too diffident of himself to believe, that with such a difference of age and disposition he could ever attach her. There, however, he is quite mistaken. His age is only so much beyond hers as to be an advantage, as to make his character and principles fixed; - and his disposition. I am well convinced, is exactly the very one to make your sister happy. And his person, his manners too, are all in his favour. My partiality does not blind me; he certainly is not so handsome as Willoughby - but at the same time, there is something much more pleasing in his countenance. - There was always a something, - if you remember, - in Willoughby's eyes at time, which I did not like.
Elinor could NOT remember it; - but her mother, without waiting for her assent, continued.
'And his manners, the Colonel's manners are not only more pleasing to me than Willoughby's ever were, but they are of a kind I well know to be more solidly attaching to Marianne. Their gentleness, their genuine attention to other people, and their manly unstudied simplicity is much more accordant with her real disposition, than the liveliness - often artificial, and often ill-timed of the other. I am very sure myself, that had Willoughby turned out as really amiable, as he has proved himself the contrary, Marianne would yet never have been so happy with HIM, as she will be with Colonel Brandon.'
"Muggle literature," Severus rolled his eyes, as he stuffed the page into one of his cloak pockets and began the journey back towards the castle.
"Headmaster, might I have a word with you?" Severus asked, as he stood before Albus Dumbledore's desk in the Head's office.
"Of course Severus," Albus replied, as he popped a licorice snap into his mouth. "What is on your mind?"
"I caught a group of girls bullying Miss Harrison this morning."
"Ahh," Albus exclaimed softly. "That justifies the excessive amount of emeralds lost in the Slytherin's hourglass just shortly before lunch."
"Indeed," Severus sighed, as he wrung the thread-bare cloak in his hands. "From what I have seen, Miss Harrison needs a safe place to go while she is out of class."
"The library perhaps?"
"No," Severus shook his head. "I've talked with Madam Pince, and she has caught Miss Harrison, on several occasions, being persecuted in there as well."
"I'm sorry Severus," Albus said quietly. "But I cannot create such a place out of thin air for just one student. all of the students are my priority."
"She is a smart and talented witch Albus!" Severus snarled, as he slammed his fist against the desk. "Of course you cannot make amends for one child...you'd rather throw one to the wolves than piss off a pureblood parent, who probably sits on the Board of Governors!
"The girl has far more talent than most of her year," Severus continued. "She is the only one to receive 'Outstanding' marks in Potions and..."
"I think you just solved the problem yourself Severus," Albus replied, effectively cutting Severus off. The Potions Master glared at him with a look of profound confusion.
"What?"
"Perhaps Miss Harrison might assist you in your lab," Albus smiled; his blue eyes twinkling madly.
"My experiments are not for the faint hearted..."
"I did not mean to imply your experiments," Albus broke in again. "I meant for the Infirmary. It would help free you up to work on your experiments then."
"Albus, I do not have time to monitor a student..."
"You said it yourself Severus. That Miss Harrison is outstanding in your class," Albus continued. "A smart and talented witch. Yes?"
"Yes, but..."
"Then I see no reason as to why it should not work out," Albus exclaimed, as he leaned back in his seat. "At least in your lab, she will be safe and under a watchful eye. And I believe Miss Harrison will be most delighted by the offer."
"Of course Headmaster," Severus sighed in defeat. "Good day." Still clutching the cloak, he made his way towards the door, only to be stopped short of turning the knob.
"Oh and Severus," Albus spoke once more, causing the man in black to turn his head slightly to listen. "Since Miss Harrison is a Muggleborn...I think in her best interest, if you were to keep certain things hidden away from her. I have kept your trial quiet within these walls well. And I think she might not fully appreciate your past regards. Don't you agree?"
"Indeed, Headmaster," Severus said softly, before swiftly exiting the room and descending towards the dark, cold dungeons.
a/n: Hello! I'm still alive! I promise! Sorry that it has been forever, but real life does get in the way at times :p Hopefully now with tennis season being over, I can get back into writing for the winter.
The two little snippets of literature come from the wonderful works of Jane Austen's 'Sense and Sensibility,' and yes, that page that Severus rescued will make its' way back into the story later on.
A big thank you to victoria cullen34, Guest, AccioSS, Kitsunetsunami, HarukaJKGG, Maiden of the Heavens, and Nightwishforever for their wonderful reviews!
Happy Reading and see you soon :)