Rilla was worried about Guin. On the ride back to Hogwarts, as the train jolted and jumped and rattled their teeth around, the girl was silent, her cheek pressed against the window, the Scottish countryside streaking past; not seeing it. When she finally sat up, one side of her face was bright red and creased from pressure, but there were no tears in her eyes, or any hint of grief or even emotion. The Gryffindor watched her friend shrewdly, shaking her head lightly. One of these days, Guin was going to have to cry. It was quite unhealthy, she reflected, to keep emotions bottled up like that.
Guin knew nothing of this pondering, and indeed, did not have much by way of coherent musings during the entire ride. The flashing scenery proved only something to concentrate upon, as thoughts of her parents tumbled through her head. How had her father died? She hadn't known he was a Death Eater – what if he hadn't really turned away from evil? With two parents serving Voldemort, was she too destined to follow in their steps?
It was with these morose thoughts that she and Rilla headed back up to Hogwarts, surrounded by the other students. They buzzed self importantly around her, and for a moment, Guin hated all of them, for no reason except that they were cheerful and happy and didn't have destiny hanging low around their heads and smothering them. They laughed and talked and were generally unconcerned, and several of them recoiled from her suddenly icy green glare.
"Guin!" squealed Sally-Ann, "How was your vacation?"
She meant well, she meant well, Guin chanted to herself, fighting the urge to poke the girl's eyes out. She was beaming in an infuriating way, blond pigtails swaying on either side of the angelic face. Rilla pulled Sally aside, fingers gripping the other girl's arm tightly. "Don't bother her now," she said tightly, "Guin's not in the best mood right now." Indeed, watching the Slytherin, there was something crystalline about her, a new tightness to her shoulders and the way she stood.
Sally-Ann examined her for a moment, mouth pressing into a disapproving line. Pansy Parkinson joined them, hard face contorted into a cruel grin. "What's wrong with the Marlowe-baby, Mudblood? Something she ate over the holidays disagree with her?"
Guin whirled and faced Pansy, eyes wide with rage. "I've had about enough of you, Parkinson!" she said, and punched the girl hard in the nose. After this, several things happened in quick succession. One, Pansy started to bleed crimson all over her new robes. This in turn caused her to set up a wail that drew attention from all sides. Second, Millicent Bulstrode came to her friend's defense and promptly connected her fist with Guin's stomach, which caused her to sit down hard on the ground and blink. Thirdly, a second meat-fisted hit from Millicent connected with her eye, and fourthly, Severus Snape arrived on the scene and pulled the girls apart.
"And just what do you think you are doing?" he demanded, as usual icily cool.
"Brofesser, she s'ar'ed ib," Pansy wailed, voice unpleasantly clogged as she held a hand underneath her nose.
"I don't care who started it! This is disgraceful, and something I'd expect of the Gryffindors and not Slytherins! I would take points away, but school has not started yet." Black eyes glared at them, and he pointed a thin finger at Guin, whose eye was beginning to swell. "You, Marlowe. Come with me." Guin shot a miserable look at Rilla, and trudged away after the professor. They walked in silence to the castle, where Snape led her down into the dungeons.
They were particularly chilly that day, and Guin shivered and tugged her school-robes tighter around herself. Snape gestured for her to sit down in the one chair that stood forlornly in front of his desk, which she did, swinging her feet nervously. "Might I ask you, Miss Marlowe, what exactly possessed you this afternoon? Madam Pomfrey informed me that Miss Parkinson is quite hysterical." Guin could have sworn that the tiniest hint of a smile played around Snape's mouth, but she was sure that it was imagined.
"I don't know, Professor," she said truthfully. He continued to watch her silently, and she continued. "You knew my parents?"
A bit confused, Snape's brow furrowed momentarily as he tried to figure out the direction in which the conversation turned. "I did."
"Do you know how my da died?"
An expressionless visage faced her, the momentary good humor faded. Was it her imagination again, or was there a hesitation before the answer? "No." Snape twiddled his thumbs idly. "Miss Marlowe, if there is anything you'd like to tell me, you are welcome to. I am not taking points off now, but I warn you that in the future I will not be so lenient."
"Yessir."
"Miss Parkinson," Snape added, "is unpleasant. It runs in the family, I am told. Don't let her get to you, Miss Marlowe."
"Yessir."
"Dismissed."
With that, she fled into the hallway, where Rilla lurked nervously. "What happened?" she asked, glancing around apprehensively. Passing Slytherins glared at the girl with the Gryffindor emblem pinned to her shoulder, and she looked defiantly back at them, blunt chin raised proudly. "Did he take away any points?" she demanded, poking at Guin's shoulder.
"No need to sound so excited," Guin said.
"That's not what I meant—"
"So, id's d' liddle psychodic," Pansy said, nose still clogged with blood. She appeared behind them, along with Millicent Bulstrode, an avenging devil with a glare on her pug-face. When Guin and Rilla didn't deign to answer, she took a step forward, malevolence oozing from her. "Well, whad's d' matter, Marlowe? Scared, are you?"
"Come on, Guin," Rilla said, "We don't have to listen to her. Be careful, Parkinson," she added, "You're dripping on the floor." Sniggering at the splotches of crimson that now decorated the immaculate floor, they pushed past her and outside.
Guin suddenly felt a craving for cool air on her face; the castle of Hogwarts felt unnaturally claustrophobic. "Come on!" she said to Rilla, "Let's go." Without quite knowing why, she followed a pre-laid path, feet treading confidently forward. Guin hardly heard as Rilla offered an inquiry about their destination, she merely moved towards some goal that lingered out of reach – and, as they sidled over the lawns of Hogwarts and out the gates, it became clear that they were going to end up in the Forbidden Forest.
"Guin!" Rilla hissed. The trees were so close. Invitingly green and cool, they hung in a shimmering, enchanted mist. A large oak and a smaller rowan intertwined overhead to form a verdant arbor, dripping dew onto the ground beneath. Grass gradually gave way to a dark emerald moss that velveted the ground and inched its way determinedly up the scarred trunks. Insubstantial gossamer spider's webs threaded through the spaces left by branches, shining with their own ethereal luminescence. Guin did not answer, but walked underneath the arch and into the darkness.
Instantly there was a change in atmosphere. From fairly sunny, the air had suddenly grown dim; from relative silence, there were muted forest-noises, birds cheeping, what sounded uncannily like the hooting of an owl; muffled grumbles from some beast as it crushed through the scrub. Rilla fell silent, unnerved by the fey shadowy quality of the scene. Guin, intrigued, whispered to her. "Wonderful, isn't it?"
"Yes, very, now let's go please!"
A soft chuckle emitted from Guin's mouth. "What sort of Gryffindor are you? Scared?"
"No!" Rilla said, affronted. "But we're not supposed to be here – if we're caught—"
"We won't be," Guin hissed, "We can't leave now that we've gotten here. You can go. I'm going to explore."
"Insane," Rilla moaned, glancing nervously around her, "You're completely insane."
"It runs in the family," Guin said dryly.
They walked, ducking underneath overhanging branches and vines, some secret sense making their footsteps quiet and their voices muted. Guin was fascinated; she'd never been in the forest before. Her sense of claustrophobia was immediately cured, and her curiosity piqued. As they stalked, she thought that she'd caught a glimpse of a pure white figure, fleet and flashing in the darkness. It shone with an empyreal light, causing both girls to rubberneck and attempt to see better what it had been. "A unicorn?" Rilla whispered, and Guin had to agree.
"Listen! I hear water," Rilla said, taking the lead. They hurried through the brush, nimbly hopping over the tangled roots and small plants, until they reached a clearing. Starting a few feet where the trees ended was a medium-sized lake, the crystal water glimmering diamond-like in the hazy afternoon light. Guin could see that in the center of it was an island, darkly thatched with trees and bush, a miniature piece of jungle trapped in the middle of that fire-like liquid.
Stepping forward to peer into the water, Rilla stubbed her toe on something and bit back a yelp of surprise. They looked down, and found that what she had tripped over was a fist-sized rock, roughly shaped but with its own unique symmetry. It was crystalline and translucent; the light filtered through and focused a prism on a patch of moss beneath. "Wow," they whispered in unison.
"Do you think it'd be okay if I kept it?" Rilla wondered.
"I'd think so. It's beautiful." The milky crystal was slipped into the pocket of Rilla's robes, where it promptly weighed them down and caused her to walk slightly lop-sided. An unspoken signal heeded, they hurried back to the school, retracing their steps.
-----
Later that night, Guin's stomach growled and vacated the Common Room, which was fairly silent that night anyway. She glided along the corridors towards the kitchens. Angeline had discovered their location in her second year and passed the "secret" along to her daughter, who duly intended to make full use of the knowledge. Heading for the corridor that led the way up to where the house-elves cooked, Guin was distracted by voices.
She emerged in front of the library, though the normally heavy trafficked-hallway was empty, and was confronted with the pale face of Malfoy and the fearful one of the Gryffindor, Neville Longbottom. Malfoy was speaking, his voice the usual lazy drawl. "What's wrong, Longbottom, not brave enough to be a Gryffindor? Don't like hexes? I need some practice, anyway.. Locomotor Mortis!" Instantly, Neville's legs snapped together and he toppled over.
Malfoy was about to raise his wand again, his mouth opened to speak a spell. Guin fumbled inside her sleeve for her own wand, aiming it at Malfoy. "Leave him alone, you little shit," she said, causing him to glance sideways and glare.
"Don't meddle, Marlowe, or you'll meet the same fate as your daddy."
Guin bit her lip, though as they talked, Neville had hobbled away and disappeared around the corner. "You're a coward, Malfoy, just like /your/ da." Without waiting for him to make a reply, Guin said sharply, "Aegresco!" From the end of the ebony wand shot a sickly yellow light that hit Malfoy's stomach and knocked him backwards. It was a nasty little spell that Angeline had taught her, and caused the victim to become violently ill for several moments.
She peeked over her shoulder as she trotted on her way to the kitchens, and sure enough, Malfoy was puking up his dinner and lunch onto the floor, sides heaving as he choked. Snickering to herself, Guin replaced her wand and carefully made sure no one was watching before she found the correct corridor, tickled the pear, and set about finding a light midnight snack.
Guin knew nothing of this pondering, and indeed, did not have much by way of coherent musings during the entire ride. The flashing scenery proved only something to concentrate upon, as thoughts of her parents tumbled through her head. How had her father died? She hadn't known he was a Death Eater – what if he hadn't really turned away from evil? With two parents serving Voldemort, was she too destined to follow in their steps?
It was with these morose thoughts that she and Rilla headed back up to Hogwarts, surrounded by the other students. They buzzed self importantly around her, and for a moment, Guin hated all of them, for no reason except that they were cheerful and happy and didn't have destiny hanging low around their heads and smothering them. They laughed and talked and were generally unconcerned, and several of them recoiled from her suddenly icy green glare.
"Guin!" squealed Sally-Ann, "How was your vacation?"
She meant well, she meant well, Guin chanted to herself, fighting the urge to poke the girl's eyes out. She was beaming in an infuriating way, blond pigtails swaying on either side of the angelic face. Rilla pulled Sally aside, fingers gripping the other girl's arm tightly. "Don't bother her now," she said tightly, "Guin's not in the best mood right now." Indeed, watching the Slytherin, there was something crystalline about her, a new tightness to her shoulders and the way she stood.
Sally-Ann examined her for a moment, mouth pressing into a disapproving line. Pansy Parkinson joined them, hard face contorted into a cruel grin. "What's wrong with the Marlowe-baby, Mudblood? Something she ate over the holidays disagree with her?"
Guin whirled and faced Pansy, eyes wide with rage. "I've had about enough of you, Parkinson!" she said, and punched the girl hard in the nose. After this, several things happened in quick succession. One, Pansy started to bleed crimson all over her new robes. This in turn caused her to set up a wail that drew attention from all sides. Second, Millicent Bulstrode came to her friend's defense and promptly connected her fist with Guin's stomach, which caused her to sit down hard on the ground and blink. Thirdly, a second meat-fisted hit from Millicent connected with her eye, and fourthly, Severus Snape arrived on the scene and pulled the girls apart.
"And just what do you think you are doing?" he demanded, as usual icily cool.
"Brofesser, she s'ar'ed ib," Pansy wailed, voice unpleasantly clogged as she held a hand underneath her nose.
"I don't care who started it! This is disgraceful, and something I'd expect of the Gryffindors and not Slytherins! I would take points away, but school has not started yet." Black eyes glared at them, and he pointed a thin finger at Guin, whose eye was beginning to swell. "You, Marlowe. Come with me." Guin shot a miserable look at Rilla, and trudged away after the professor. They walked in silence to the castle, where Snape led her down into the dungeons.
They were particularly chilly that day, and Guin shivered and tugged her school-robes tighter around herself. Snape gestured for her to sit down in the one chair that stood forlornly in front of his desk, which she did, swinging her feet nervously. "Might I ask you, Miss Marlowe, what exactly possessed you this afternoon? Madam Pomfrey informed me that Miss Parkinson is quite hysterical." Guin could have sworn that the tiniest hint of a smile played around Snape's mouth, but she was sure that it was imagined.
"I don't know, Professor," she said truthfully. He continued to watch her silently, and she continued. "You knew my parents?"
A bit confused, Snape's brow furrowed momentarily as he tried to figure out the direction in which the conversation turned. "I did."
"Do you know how my da died?"
An expressionless visage faced her, the momentary good humor faded. Was it her imagination again, or was there a hesitation before the answer? "No." Snape twiddled his thumbs idly. "Miss Marlowe, if there is anything you'd like to tell me, you are welcome to. I am not taking points off now, but I warn you that in the future I will not be so lenient."
"Yessir."
"Miss Parkinson," Snape added, "is unpleasant. It runs in the family, I am told. Don't let her get to you, Miss Marlowe."
"Yessir."
"Dismissed."
With that, she fled into the hallway, where Rilla lurked nervously. "What happened?" she asked, glancing around apprehensively. Passing Slytherins glared at the girl with the Gryffindor emblem pinned to her shoulder, and she looked defiantly back at them, blunt chin raised proudly. "Did he take away any points?" she demanded, poking at Guin's shoulder.
"No need to sound so excited," Guin said.
"That's not what I meant—"
"So, id's d' liddle psychodic," Pansy said, nose still clogged with blood. She appeared behind them, along with Millicent Bulstrode, an avenging devil with a glare on her pug-face. When Guin and Rilla didn't deign to answer, she took a step forward, malevolence oozing from her. "Well, whad's d' matter, Marlowe? Scared, are you?"
"Come on, Guin," Rilla said, "We don't have to listen to her. Be careful, Parkinson," she added, "You're dripping on the floor." Sniggering at the splotches of crimson that now decorated the immaculate floor, they pushed past her and outside.
Guin suddenly felt a craving for cool air on her face; the castle of Hogwarts felt unnaturally claustrophobic. "Come on!" she said to Rilla, "Let's go." Without quite knowing why, she followed a pre-laid path, feet treading confidently forward. Guin hardly heard as Rilla offered an inquiry about their destination, she merely moved towards some goal that lingered out of reach – and, as they sidled over the lawns of Hogwarts and out the gates, it became clear that they were going to end up in the Forbidden Forest.
"Guin!" Rilla hissed. The trees were so close. Invitingly green and cool, they hung in a shimmering, enchanted mist. A large oak and a smaller rowan intertwined overhead to form a verdant arbor, dripping dew onto the ground beneath. Grass gradually gave way to a dark emerald moss that velveted the ground and inched its way determinedly up the scarred trunks. Insubstantial gossamer spider's webs threaded through the spaces left by branches, shining with their own ethereal luminescence. Guin did not answer, but walked underneath the arch and into the darkness.
Instantly there was a change in atmosphere. From fairly sunny, the air had suddenly grown dim; from relative silence, there were muted forest-noises, birds cheeping, what sounded uncannily like the hooting of an owl; muffled grumbles from some beast as it crushed through the scrub. Rilla fell silent, unnerved by the fey shadowy quality of the scene. Guin, intrigued, whispered to her. "Wonderful, isn't it?"
"Yes, very, now let's go please!"
A soft chuckle emitted from Guin's mouth. "What sort of Gryffindor are you? Scared?"
"No!" Rilla said, affronted. "But we're not supposed to be here – if we're caught—"
"We won't be," Guin hissed, "We can't leave now that we've gotten here. You can go. I'm going to explore."
"Insane," Rilla moaned, glancing nervously around her, "You're completely insane."
"It runs in the family," Guin said dryly.
They walked, ducking underneath overhanging branches and vines, some secret sense making their footsteps quiet and their voices muted. Guin was fascinated; she'd never been in the forest before. Her sense of claustrophobia was immediately cured, and her curiosity piqued. As they stalked, she thought that she'd caught a glimpse of a pure white figure, fleet and flashing in the darkness. It shone with an empyreal light, causing both girls to rubberneck and attempt to see better what it had been. "A unicorn?" Rilla whispered, and Guin had to agree.
"Listen! I hear water," Rilla said, taking the lead. They hurried through the brush, nimbly hopping over the tangled roots and small plants, until they reached a clearing. Starting a few feet where the trees ended was a medium-sized lake, the crystal water glimmering diamond-like in the hazy afternoon light. Guin could see that in the center of it was an island, darkly thatched with trees and bush, a miniature piece of jungle trapped in the middle of that fire-like liquid.
Stepping forward to peer into the water, Rilla stubbed her toe on something and bit back a yelp of surprise. They looked down, and found that what she had tripped over was a fist-sized rock, roughly shaped but with its own unique symmetry. It was crystalline and translucent; the light filtered through and focused a prism on a patch of moss beneath. "Wow," they whispered in unison.
"Do you think it'd be okay if I kept it?" Rilla wondered.
"I'd think so. It's beautiful." The milky crystal was slipped into the pocket of Rilla's robes, where it promptly weighed them down and caused her to walk slightly lop-sided. An unspoken signal heeded, they hurried back to the school, retracing their steps.
-----
Later that night, Guin's stomach growled and vacated the Common Room, which was fairly silent that night anyway. She glided along the corridors towards the kitchens. Angeline had discovered their location in her second year and passed the "secret" along to her daughter, who duly intended to make full use of the knowledge. Heading for the corridor that led the way up to where the house-elves cooked, Guin was distracted by voices.
She emerged in front of the library, though the normally heavy trafficked-hallway was empty, and was confronted with the pale face of Malfoy and the fearful one of the Gryffindor, Neville Longbottom. Malfoy was speaking, his voice the usual lazy drawl. "What's wrong, Longbottom, not brave enough to be a Gryffindor? Don't like hexes? I need some practice, anyway.. Locomotor Mortis!" Instantly, Neville's legs snapped together and he toppled over.
Malfoy was about to raise his wand again, his mouth opened to speak a spell. Guin fumbled inside her sleeve for her own wand, aiming it at Malfoy. "Leave him alone, you little shit," she said, causing him to glance sideways and glare.
"Don't meddle, Marlowe, or you'll meet the same fate as your daddy."
Guin bit her lip, though as they talked, Neville had hobbled away and disappeared around the corner. "You're a coward, Malfoy, just like /your/ da." Without waiting for him to make a reply, Guin said sharply, "Aegresco!" From the end of the ebony wand shot a sickly yellow light that hit Malfoy's stomach and knocked him backwards. It was a nasty little spell that Angeline had taught her, and caused the victim to become violently ill for several moments.
She peeked over her shoulder as she trotted on her way to the kitchens, and sure enough, Malfoy was puking up his dinner and lunch onto the floor, sides heaving as he choked. Snickering to herself, Guin replaced her wand and carefully made sure no one was watching before she found the correct corridor, tickled the pear, and set about finding a light midnight snack.