Wishes
By: Airelle Vilka
A/N Rant: Oh, my teeth, my poor wisdom teeth… hmm, now that I've gotten all of them out, I don't have any more wisdom… :) Arrgh, I hate maxillofacial oral surgery. God, to everyone who's been through this… you all deserve Purple Hearts. Now you people are heroes. winces Owie… I need a hug. hugs computer screen Ah, that's the cold I need to reduce swelling. Eek--ah, my cheeks! I look like a chipmunk on drugs! laughs madly, then runs away yelling about teeth and J.K. Rowling, who is in no way connected to the authoress's tooth problem (Gosh, what a great way to start off summer vacation, lying on a couch with a laptop burning my legs b/c it's been on for hours, amidst paper towels, drinks, CDs, pencils, notes, ice packs, napkins, and painkillers… It is my dream vacation, actually, except for the ice packs and painkillers part. :))
Another Author's Note: The Second Harry Potter trailer is here! You guys have to see it! () Oh, dear, Snape looks amazing… and his voice is so… collapses into a fit of convulsive drooling
Chapter 14 Dress Robes Required
Albus Dumbledore put a finger to his lips when Airelle's mouth opened to give some simulation of an excuse. "Shh," he whispered, blue eyes twinkling. "You wouldn't want to wake Madame Pomfrey, would you?"
Airelle gaped at the Headmaster, as if still not certain he was actually standing in front of her. So, to save time, she just shook her head in a 'no' gesture.
Snape, however, had a talent for recovering quickly in awkward situations. "Headmaster, I did not expect to find you here so early. I was helping Professor Vilka return to the Hospital Wing," he said smoothly. Somewhere in the back of her mind, Airelle had to admit that her friend did not actually lie. After all, he was helping her return to the dormitory. He had, incidentally, also taken her out of there, but that was not mentioned.
"I have no doubt of it," said Dumbledore, the smile not fading under his white beard. "Now, Airelle, I came here so early merely to see how you were getting on. Minerva told me you were still unconscious yesterday."
"Well, I was…" stammered Airelle, shifting around in the doorway with Snape a foot behind her, "but then, as you see, I awakened, and sort of wandered around the castle until Professor Snape here kindly directed me back." Of course, that whole bit was true as well. It all depended on how one looked at it.
"I see," said Dumbledore, gaze shifting from Airelle (who looked thankful) to Snape, who stood outside in the hallway, black eyes glittering. "So, I trust that both you and Airelle are attending the Yule Ball tonight?"
Snape looked startled by the question, but replied, "Of course."
Airelle nodded. "I believe I feel well enough now."
"Excellent," said the elder wizard, glancing at each of them in turn. "But Airelle, you did not tell me whom you were going to monitor."
"Ah…" she muttered, and decided not to look backwards at Snape. "Umm… outdoors."
"Very good, I shall write that down," said Dumbledore with a smile. "Now, before Madame Pomfrey bustles in and chastises you for being out of bed--" – his blue eyes bore effortlessly into Airelle's black ones – "you had better lie down. And you, Severus…"
"Yes, Headmaster?" asked Snape. His face, Airelle couldn't help noticing, had turned slightly livid.
"It is a big day today… the last before the Christmas holidays. So, I suggest you go and sleep a little," laughed Dumbledore. "You need it."
"As you wish," the Potions Master replied, and, casting one brief look at Airelle, swept out of her line of vision, followed shortly by Dumbledore, who closed the door with another enigmatic smile in her direction. Sighing in exasperation, the Illusions professor crawled into the cold bed she'd left behind that night, wondering three things—if this was all a dream, how she was going to get dress robes for the ball, and whether she should give homework over the holidays. As she fell asleep, Airelle only figured out the answer to the third one—she was too tired to give homework.
She was greeted with an enthusiastic warmth at breakfast that day, despite the fact that she looked half-dead from interrupted sleep and kept muttering to herself about coloured walls and Johann Sebastian Bach. Hagrid offered her some alcoholic drink that, though Airelle was initially hesitant to take it in the morning, perked her up as no Caffi-Pills could. Snape finally came in with the first of the students, and judging by the look on his face, Airelle doubted that he'd had any more sleep whatsoever.
She slid onto the very edge of her chair and poked absently at her rice pudding. All the teachers around her, it seemed, were very excited about the early start of the Christmas Break, and were chatting eagerly. It was her turn to speak when Remus Lupin addressed her.
"Why so glum, Airelle?" he asked, downing a glass of juice in one gulp. He was looking healthier, Airelle noticed; the full moon had passed, and there would not be another one for weeks.
"Glum?" she laughed, though it came out as more of a morose cough. "I most certainly am not. Just thinking about the Yule Ball and… and the past…" Her voice had dropped at that point.
Lupin smiled. "Ah, yes, I remember; those were the days. Quite a spectacle, those feasts were, in our student years."
Airelle smiled wanly back. "Indeed. And now, we are stuck with having to keep an eye on the students."
"Don't worry, they'll be fine," said the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor warmly. "Oh, by the way, is Severus coming tonight?"
Airelle looked up quickly from her plate. "How should I know?"
Lupin looked affronted. "Well," he said, "you are close friends, are you not?"
"Err… of course, but that does not mean--" She paused. "Yes, I believe he shall be attending. How can he not? … All the faculty must be present."
"Not necessarily," said Lupin, but even he did not look like he believed it. "But in any case, how are your classes going?"
"Very well," she replied, smiling. "Moving at a good pace. Have to get a good deal in today… the last class until January. What about you?"
"Fantastic."
"Great," she answered, not knowing what else to say. Her mind was in a very different place, wandering somewhere near the enchanted ceiling. Soon, tonight, it would be inky black and littered with stars…
Twelve hours had passed like minutes. Before Airelle knew it, seven-thirty in the morning turned to seven-thirty at night. The Yule Ball was in a half hour, and she was still not ready. Seven thirty-five found her in front of the mirror in her room, brushing her hair via a Reglia spell and putting on her dress at the same time.
"Dress robes are required for everyone; no exceptions," the notice on the wall had said. So, why was Airelle donning a dress, and a Muggle dress, of all things? She had bought it in a shop during the summer, and was glad to see that it still fit. It was plain black, sleeveless, fitting, and reached to her heels, but the neat thing about it was that it came slightly off her shoulders and practically had no back. Several straps of transparent, blue (why not? - she was a Ravenclaw, after all) material reached around the top hem of the dress, dropping sharply in folds to the small of her back, and served as the only decoration. She wore no make-up and no jewelry, save for small hanging earrings and her signature headband with the oval blue stone. A swish, and her hair was pulled into a high bun, several wisps of flyaway hair tickling her spine. She grinned and allowed herself a half-turn in front of the looking-glass, admiring the way the dress moved with her. The last time she had dressed up was during her Auror days, for a Ministry evening. It had been amazing, to see some of her colleagues swap their usual grimy work standards for multi-colored dress robes. Her friend and fellow Auror, Omar Fauks, true to his rich African heritage, had donned amazingly printed robes of magnificent reds and yellows that still stood out in her mind like vivid flashes of light…
She sighed and brushed a loose strand of hair back from her shoulders. Spotless. But, Airelle did not expect the prim look to last for even five minutes. The reason was, of course, that she was not planning to enter the Great Hall looking like this. As much as she wanted to wear the dress, the parchment said, "Dress robes." So, Airelle Vilka rubbed her hands together and said, "Accio Robes!"
Her usual teacher's robe, spiked up with shimmering blue hems, soared to Airelle's hand and she threw it on semi-haphazardly. This was what everyone was going to see. But underneath the dress robe—that dress was reserved for a certain professor…
Airelle grinned like a little girl. Snape was going to have a fit of hysterics when he'd see her wearing anything showing skin. It was too bad Muggle devices like cameras did not work in the vicinity of Hogwarts. Otherwise, she'd have tons of fun rewinding her friend's reaction over and over…
She smiled again, partly at herself for being this immature and partly with anticipation of the dance. What was that Almathea had said? Act like you did in your youth? Well, this sounded like something she'd definitely undertake if she were a teenager again. Only this time, even if she were caught, Airelle could not get detention. Neat. Ah, being a teacher had its advantages.
Fastening the robe, she checked herself once again in the mirror. Nothing showing… only the folds of the long robe, which were bulging slightly because of the dress under it. Airelle straightened her collar and narrowed her black eyes at her reflection.
"Aren't we a regular Miss Wizarding World," she announced to herself with a sarcastic laugh. But she could not help being pleased. I wonder what Snape will look like--
"Snape?" she said aloud as a little bell, bewitched with an Alarm Spell, rang wildly on her bedside table. "Oh, no, I'm late, again!" Promising to shout at herself mentally later, Airelle stuffed her wand inside her robes and headed out towards the Great Hall, not paying attention to the occasional students who passed by and stood gazing after her.
"Psst! Is that Professor Vilka?"
"She looks so…different."
"Maybe it's the hair."
"Nope… she just looks… crafty."
"She looks pretty."
"Isn't she in her mid-thirties?"
"Boy, that's a long shot even for you, Casanova."
"Shaddup, will you?"
"She can't hear us."
"How do you know?"
"I think she's scheming."
"I still think it's the hair."
Those were only some of the whispered comments that followed Airelle as she walked down the hallways of the castle. It was truly amazing. Could the students actually notice things adults didn't, or did they just see it because she shared some sort of kinship with them? Perhaps. In a way, Airelle often felt like she never grew up. Although, that was not always for the best. She was like a child, but a child who'd seen the monsters under the bed face-to-face…
She pushed a side door open and entered the Great Hall, tangling herself rather effectively in a low-hanging tapestry, encrusted with holly, along the way. The ball had not begun as of yet; students were still coming through the doors, chatting and settling themselves at one of a hundred or so tables that had replaced the House Tables along the walls. Everything looked magnificent, with candles floating in the air (a few were even twirling, their twinkling lights doing a musical number), and mistletoe decorating everything that stood still. Among the sea of faces and robes, she recognized Harry Potter and his best friend Ron Weasley, Hermione Granger, Lavender Brown (who was, incidentally, wearing lavender robes), and many others. Airelle strained her eyesight to look for Neville, Alica, or Tracy, but they were not there. Shrugging, she made her way towards the top table, where she was greeted with a hearty guffaw from Rubeus Hagrid.
"Airelle! How are yeh?" he boomed, saluting her with a jug of eggnog the size of a bucket. "Good thing the holidays start early. I reckon yeh couldn' stand one more day of them students, could yeh?"
Airelle stared at him in shock, and Hagrid laughed. "Jus' joking," he grinned. "Come, have a seat, we were just about to start eatin'…"
Snape was already there, and greeted Airelle with a small nod as she sat down next to Lupin's chair, which was empty. He couldn't be sick again with his 'problem,' could he?
"Say, Professor Flitwick?" asked Airelle, and the tiny wizard turned around, nearly falling off the pillows that were piled up onto his chair in order to make him reach the top of the table.
"Yes, Airelle?" he squeaked.
"Where's Remus?"
"Ah," said Flitwick, "he's with his new aide… Delilah, I think her name is." Flitwick pointed to another corner of the room, where Airelle could pick out the tall figure of the professor talking animatedly with a young woman in purple robes and long, flowing black hair.
Since when did Loopy need a teacher's aide? thought Airelle, but then decided to leave the matter alone. As long as he was not running around howling, Airelle felt safe. Besides, there were more important things to worry about…
Snape sat at the other end of the table, looking sour and unpleasant as usual, and only barely responding to Hagrid's questions (which were now accompanied by hiccups). His obsidian black hair was slicked back in a way that reminded Airelle of the Yule Ball in their seventh year. She had put tons and tons of magical gel into it with her own hands, and promptly wiped them on Snape's favourite school robes afterwards. He would have killed her if it weren't for the fact that she'd gotten him the Eola Jedkins date he wanted. Sad, eh?
Airelle grinned and tore her gaze away from her friend. Some of the students were already leaving the dance floor and going outdoors. Snogging time, thought Airelle, and snorted with laughter into her wineglass.
"Is there a problem, Airelle?" called Dumbledore's voice from her right, and she looked up as another waltz began to play in the air. She coughed and answered, "No, not at all." I have to get out of here, before some poor soul asks me to dance, or something…
"Good," said the wizard, smiling. "Because someone is here to see you."
Airelle's eyebrows arched. Would Snape actually talk to her once in this whole awkward night?
"I…" she began, looking up hopefully. And then, her face promptly contorted into an expression of terror not even Voldemort could instigate.
"Oh… no…" she breathed. "Not you…"
Gilderoy Lockhart was strolling buoyantly across the dance floor to the tune of the waltz, with a floating parchment following him, waving madly at the professor as though his hand would fall off. Most of the students had already spotted him and wisely moved away as far as possible. Lockhart, however, seemed to not have noticed, and continued prancing merrily along, pastel blue wizard's hat lopsided slightly on his wavy blonde hair. Airelle looked around for some help, but found none; Minerva McGonagall looked like she wanted to run, a bright-eyed Trelawney was saying to Hagrid, "I knew it!", and Dumbledore—well, Dumbledore always looked pleasant. Snape, Airelle was glad to see, was looking murderous.
"Ah, we meet again," said Lockhart cheerfully, strutting over to the Teachers' Table like a giant blue peacock and waving his quill sneakily at Airelle. "What a coincidence. I am covering this year's Yule Ball for a special assignment of the Daily Prophet, and look whom I run into! The very woman I need!"
I'd like to kill whoever let this arrogant prick in here, thought Airelle hotly. Outside, her face smiled at the reporter blandly. "Hello, Mister Lockhart."
"Yes, this is quite a sight, isn't it," muttered Lockhart, not returning the greeting and waving enthusiastically at Dumbledore and the other professors, who looked revolted. "A splendid idea, this Yule Ball; we should have had it when I was here. I bet I could have spruced it up a little!" He winked, and Airelle wanted to bury her head in the ground like a scared ostrich.
"By the way, Headmaster Dumbledore," smiled Lockhart, "thank you ever so much for inviting me to this wonderful event and giving me a chance to speak with Ms. Vilka here."
Airelle gaped at the elder wizard. He invited Lockhart? Oh, no…
"Make yourself comfortable, Gilderoy," said Dumbledore genially, pulling up a chair with a wave of his wand. "I am certain Airelle will be delighted to speak with you."
Meanwhile, Airelle's mouth was opening and closing wordlessly in shock. I think he flipped his lid, she said to herself, staring at the Headmaster. Her eyes flew to Snape's chair, but he had disappeared. Great, and left me alone with this babbling idiot. I'm going to choke the life out of him…
"So, Ms. Vilka," said Lockhart, sitting right next to her and looking her right in the face, "or may I call you Airelle?" Another wink. I swear, if that man winks one more time…
"It's Professor Vilka," she stated coldly, seeing there was no way out and resigning herself to a complete waste of time.
"Very good then, Airelle," chipped the reporter jovially, and Airelle shook her head. What did the Daily Prophet pay him for, distortion of words? "Now," he said, "we left off on your life as a Professor. It was a shame, really, that your unmannered colleague stole your chance at fame."
Just smile and nod, thought Airelle. Punching reporters is not going to get you anywhere.
"So, what subject do you teach?"
"Illusions."
"Ah," said Lockhart knowingly, and tapped his nose. "You know, off the record," (his voice dropped) "I do not wish to brag about all my accomplishments, but I am quite an Illusions expert… so, if you like, I'd be glad to give you some pointers." Another wink.
"Ahem… I'll keep that in mind," Airelle reassured him with a gentle smile that very much contradicted her clenched fists. Illusions expert, my bum.
"Of course you will," beamed Lockhart. "Now, back to our conversation. What was it like adjusting to a professor's career after twenty years of being an Auror? Did you find it hard having to use your wits more than your wand?"
Airelle stared at him, but her scathing reply was thankfully interrupted.
"Funny you should ask, Lockhart," said Snape's icy voice from behind the table, "since you rarely use either of the two."
"I beg your pardon?" asked the reporter, turning his head as though Snape had slapped him in the face and challenged him to a wizard's duel.
Snape's gaze was unrelenting. "I merely wish to borrow Professor Vilka for a dance," he said, tone not changing even when Airelle's eyes widened. "She looks terribly morose sitting there without good company."
"Now, see here, Snape!" said Lockhart indignantly, rising off his chair. Thankfully, his voice was drowned out from the rest of the Great Hall by the music. "You have no right to interfere with my story. Can't you see that Airelle is enthralled by our conversation?"
"Are you now on a first-name basis?" he sneered, then reached a hand out to his stunned friend.
Lockhart wouldn't give up. "I happen to think--"
"My, I did not know you could do that," snapped the Potions Master, and drew Airelle away from her chair and towards the dance floor. Lockhart began to follow, but then was engaged into a chat with a misty-eyed Professor Trelawney, who offered him a glass of wine.
"Relax," said Snape softly as Airelle finally got her senses back and tried to look over her shoulder at what Lockhart was doing. "We cannot go outside just yet without him following, and thank Merlin he's not vain enough to dance with himself. So, our safety ring is the dance floor."
"Wha—did you even consider the consequences of this?" she hissed as the soft Andante melody of Bach's Brandenburg Concerto No. 2 began to float through the air. The students were now pointing and whispering; Airelle pointedly ignored them.
"Why do you think I left?" he hissed back as they got to a corner of the floor farthest away from Lockhart. "Unless you wanted me to come up with a bright idea in the two seconds that he got you rooted to your seat with his gibberish. This was the only thing I could think of."
Airelle stopped frowning. "This is way more than what I expected," she grinned up at him in the torchlight. "You hardly get up at balls, I hear, much less actually dance. People will be talking."
"I thought that was more up your alley – worrying about what others will think," he murmured.
"Not usually," she said indignantly as they took another step together. "But you don't have a very romantic reputation here."
A smile crossed his face. "Excellent. That should confuse everyone thoroughly. And besides… as soon as the song is over, we shall excuse ourselves. It is late, and the teachers who signed the list should be outdoors."
"Sounds good," Airelle laughed. "But, listen… while the song's playing, I should warn you…"
"What?" asked Snape. She looked up at him again, and his eyes glittered much like they had in their seventh-year Yule Ball… in the snowstorm. Airelle sighed. He looked so young sometimes; she almost could believe they were still students. Then again, maybe it was just the light. Just the light.
She grinned again. "I cannot dance for my life."
He stared at her.
"What?" asked Airelle. "It's not exactly an Auror's main pastime."
"You seem to be doing fine," he said slowly, and it was then Airelle realized…
They were dancing. Basically in one place, in that dark corner… but they were still dancing.
"Hah!" she said triumphantly, looking at her feet. "I am dancing!" And of course, immediately, she broke the rhythm and stepped on Snape's shoe. He winced.
"You're heavy."
She glared up at him. "Well, not THAT hea—"
"I was joking," he said tactfully.
"Oh. Right."
"In order to avoid stepping on me every time you place a foot on the floor," he said (there was that teacher voice again) "you must look me in the eyes."
She stared up at him in surprise. "Eh?"
"That's much better," he said. "Anticipate my moves."
"Hmm…" she murmured, smiling thoughtfully, "they teach us the same thing as Aurors. Anticipate your opponent's moves."
"This time, though," said Snape, coughing, "I'm not your opponent, but your partner. I don't even know why I'm bothering with this-- but," he continued after a pause, "you, as the female, must follow my lead."
Airelle knew that already, but put on a face anyway. "Excuse me? Since when did the male always get to do the leading?"
"Airelle…" He was annoyed, and she knew it. "Stop complaining. We are not in a contest of sexes--"
"Quiet!" She smacked him because some students nearby had jolted out of their seats at this. "Don't say anything even remotely similar to that word in here! We are dealing with jittery teenagers, after all," she added brightly.
Snape looked truly horrified for the first time in a while, and muttered, "Just be quiet and let us do this in a civilized way."
"All right, Professor," she sniggered childishly. By this time, another song by Bach began to play: the Adagio part of the Violin Concerto in E Major. Was it Airelle, or was Bach very popular at Hogwarts?
"I thought we were leaving after the first song," she said, and Snape looked her in the face. He seemed to be out of ideas.
"I did not speak to you about all this dancing for nothing," he muttered. "So, one song to see what you've learned before Lockhart comes over here and asks you for a dance."
Airelle cringed. "Very well…" She smiled. How many ladies has Snape danced with, I wonder? Why she was asking herself the question was completely beyond her mental prowess.
"Now," he said, "in order for one of us to lead, we must be closer." He pulled her to himself matter-of-factly. Airelle did not dare look at what people around them were doing. She could only hear merry chatter, and kept her eyes focused on Snape's as he inched a long, black-sleeved arm around her waist. His fingers pressed softly against the robe, and the dress, which had become rather bulky.
"What on earth are you wearing under there?" he asked incredulously.
Airelle grinned. "Was that meant to be a suggestive question?"
Snape looked insulted. "No, just mild curiosity."
"I was the one joking this time," she laughed.
"Just dance, will you?" He took her right hand in his left and his gaze settled in hers.
"I can't," she choked with mirth, looking up at him. "It is just too funny for words. The dreaded Potions professor, slow dancing, with me. Oh, oh," (and she emitted a mock gasp at this) "it is too much for my weak heart."
"Be quiet," snapped Snape, but his eyes gave away the humor. The song kept playing, and they spun silently. Airelle was now facing the doorway, and watched students walk in and out over Snape's shoulder. One of them was Draco Malfoy, who gave her an odd stare before departing with Pansy Parkinson hanging on his arm. Another, shortly afterwards, was none other than Harry Potter, who was probably going up to the Gryffindor common room. He gawked at her and Snape for a couple of moments, then decided to leave quickly. Airelle winced. Well, if Potter was stupid enough to hate her because of Snape, it was not her problem.
See? said a voice in her head victoriously. You're already becoming what you wanted. Uncaring.
Oh, shut up, she said to herself viciously. It's not uncaring. It is indifferent.
Is that any better? asked the voice, but Airelle blocked it. All she was thinking of now was the graceful sweeping movements their robes made on the floor. If Snape was enjoying the music as much as she was, he did not show it. He might as well have walked away at once without explaining himself, and think it was normal. How do I put up with him? Airelle asked herself, and grinned.
Her friend's eyes caught hers again; she nearly gasped. They were reflecting the bewitched ceiling and the stars that glittered in it. How could she see the magic swirling in them, be amazed by it, and yet know that not everything she was looking at was real? For once, Airelle wanted to see what Snape felt in those eyes, as if they were glass windows. Why did he have to be so much like her, covering his emotions? But she could not blame him any more than herself. Both of them, especially Snape, had seen terrible things in their lives, things that others probably did not want to know about. In the end, she guessed it was no surprise that both of them were so reserved. No one who had not experienced what they did could say that he or she knew what it felt like. When together, their shared past (and even their different paths) was what allowed Airelle and Snape to act the way they did.
She smiled at him; the song had finished. "As good as you are as a dancer, Snape--" she began in a business-like manner, "we must get ourselves out of here before Lockhart decides to 'find' me again."
"Very well," he said calmly, and they made their way towards the door. This was rather easy, since most students chose to avoid Snape at all costs and cleared a path for him relatively quickly. Before leaving, Airelle glanced up to the Teachers' Table. Lockhart was regaling a troop of sour-looking professors with some story, his floating parchment bouncing up and down, and Dumbledore had pulled McGonagall away for a dance. As she watched them, Airelle wondered, in passing, what on earth had possessed Dumbledore to invite Lockhart in the first place. Then, she turned with a shrug and followed Snape out into the entrance hall.
It was a clear and crisp December night, and Christmas rung in the air, with its fervor and anticipation. The night shone with a beauty that surpassed anything in the Great Hall. Airelle and Snape walked side by side around the castle grounds, wands at their hips. A blanket of snow had fallen, and given the bushes fuzzy white coats. The rose garden in front of Hogwarts looked amazing; even the stone statues on the winding, twisting paths seemed to come alive in the deceptive moonlight. The music had faded from their ears now, and there was silence, save for the sharp thunks created by their feet on the path. Here and there, Airelle could see carved benches. And then, new sounds approached her eardrums—the lapping of water (there was a fountain close by), several pairs of footsteps far ahead, and…rustling of leaves?
There was only so much she could do to keep from laughing as Snape swept forward and to the right in the direction of a large bush. There was no problem, except for the fact that the bush was moving. Time to do our job, thought Airelle as her friend lifted his wand and blasted the bush halfway into pieces, sending frozen rose petals flying everywhere. When a great deal of smoke had cleared, Snape snarled, "Remington! I am surprised at you…"
Aha, thought Airelle with a smirk. Looks like we caught a Slytherin.
The fourth-year boy looked terrified, though not nearly as much as the girl who emerged in his wake and stared at Airelle like she was begging for dear life. She was a Ravenclaw.
"Shame on you," added Airelle, though she was actually sorry for having interrupted. "Five points from both Ravenclaw and Slytherin."
The two ran like fowls on fire, leaving Snape shaking his head and muttering, "Insolence, that's what it is…"
"Cheer up," said Airelle kindly, catching up to him on the path as they headed towards the fountain. "After all, it is a ball."
Snape's reply consisted of a sour look, and another bang as he detonated one more bush and sent two more squealing teenagers tearing away from them onto another meandering path. They were both Hufflepuffs. Airelle smirked after them. To be caught snogging by Snape, she thought with a sigh. Now that really deserves pity.
The two shifted direction sharply, and walked through a semi-maze consisting of tall evergreen hedges, white on the top with snow and dark emerald on the sides. With yet another huge smile, Airelle remembered how they'd 'caught' a certain couple not far from this very spot…
"I swear, Snape, you get us into the most awkward situations imaginable," muttered Airelle darkly, brushing leaves out of her hair and glaring down at her friend, who was looking around cautiously.
"Just jump already, before someone wonders what you're doing on top of a fence," he snapped. "There is no other way to get around if we plan to get to the Forbidden Forest."
"Why couldn't we have taken the longer route by the lake?" she asked.
"And have the whole school see us strolling along in the middle of the night? Ingenious idea," he snapped.
"Fine, fine," growled Airelle and jumped, landing on the walkway with a small thud. "Ouch!"
"Come on, we don't have time," urged Snape, peeking around the corner.
"I'm fine, thank you for caring," Airelle said, glaring in his direction and wiping dirt off her knees. "All this for a potion ingredient. Merlin's beard, if someone found out--"
"Shh!" hissed Snape suddenly, sweeping over to her and clutching her mouth with a hand. "Did you hear that?"
Airelle's eyes went wide and she shook her head in a 'no.'
"Somebody's close by," whispered Snape, his face inches away from hers. Airelle could see a bead of sweat reflecting the moon on his forehead. "Hide!"
They shot off in opposite directions. Airelle crouched just to the side of the path, behind the huge base of a stone sculpture. Glancing up, she saw two things—one, that it was a statue of Hermes, and two, that the artist had not bothered to put any leaf on its privates. Cringing, Airelle discreetly covered her eyes and chose to stare at the gleaming path instead. Snape had disappeared, but knowing him, he could stand in shadow two feet away and you would not notice. So, there were plenty of hiding places where he could be concealed. Airelle left him to fate and continued to watch the pathway.
She did not have to wait long. A figure erupted into her vision in a blur of black Hogwarts robes and flaming red hair. She stopped almost right next to the statue, panting and laughing.
"I beat you, James!" she coughed, and sat on the ground in an elated fashion, with her head up proudly. Two seconds later, a boy came running, wand in his hand and a big smile on his face.
"Lily!" he breathed. "You cheated!"
"I did nothing of the sort," said Lily Evans indignantly, crossing her arms. "I beat you fair and square."
"All right then," drawled James Potter, "you win." His face was shining. "Now hand it over."
The girl looked up. "What?"
"The winner has to give a kiss of grace to the loser."
"WHAT?"
James grinned sheepishly as Airelle shook her head in dismay behind the statue and stared at the air in a 'can-you-believe-this' fashion. "It's the rules of the race," he said.
"James Potter," shrieked Lily, "you just made that rule up!"
A flash of robes, a crouch, and he had her in a hug. "Quiet," he said. "Professor McGonagall or someone else could be out here and nail us."
Airelle could see Lily's profile, staring up at her boyfriend with a smirk. "So?" she asked.
"So," muttered James, "we don't want to be…ah, interrupted."
"Why not? I'll share detention with you," she grinned back, and kissed him in a sweeping upward motion. Airelle sighed softly, seeing she had no choice but to watch them, and drummed her fingers silently on Hermes's foot. This she did not expect on a little excursion to the Forbidden Forest.
And just when she was wondering when this little snog session would end and they could get on with their business, another figure came onto the scene.
"Forgive me," said a calm voice, "if I am interrupting."
James and Lily jumped off each other as if they'd been burned. Airelle stifled a gasp as Dumbledore came onto the scene, his long white beard shining off his nightgown and his fluffy slippers silent on the stone.
"Headmaster--" James stammered, covering Lily protectively as if Dumbledore would hex her, "we were—we were just--"
"Lost and going back inside?" contributed Dumbledore, and James nodded numbly.
"Excellent," said the elder wizard, smiling serenely. "I trust this behaviour will not be repeated in the middle of the night near the outskirts of the castle where you may easily be attacked?"
"Yes…yes, sir," said Lily, standing up.
"Very well, then, you may go," said Dumbledore. The two did not need any more urging, and slid along the wall past him, rushing towards the main doors as soon as they cleared his vision. Dumbledore himself stood there for a while, and then turned back as well.
Airelle heaved a sigh and said, "Whew. Safe."
Dumbledore's head poked back around the corner, looking at the empty path where Lily and James had been. His blue eyes held a merry twinkle as he added, "Miss Vilka, the invitation to return to your dormitories extends to you and Mr. Snape as well. Kindly extricate yourselves from the bushes and from behind that poor statue and go get some sleep before tomorrow's classes."
And he walked off, slippers now shuffling. It was a full minute before Airelle and her friend emerged from their hiding places.
"Well," said Snape, as Airelle's mouth was still hanging agape in shock, "that covers our trip to the forest tonight."
They had reached the fountain now, and it suddenly occurred to Airelle that she had not thanked Snape for saving her from Lockhart for the second time. She glanced at him, but he was apparently occupied with blasting another bush to smithereens.
"Ten points from Gryffindor, Finnigan!" he yelled after a retreating figure. "And you too, Miss Brown!" Airelle shook her head. Well, at least there was no one around to bother them now. And people wondered why Snape had difficulty associating with others. He'd rather sneer at you than hug you. For some reason, Airelle was fine with that.
The water gurgled gently behind them as they sat on the edge. Jets of water hissed up into the air, and landed with soft splashes. Airelle looked sideways at Snape, who was silent.
"Thanks for being my saviour again tonight," she said.
Snape did not lift his head. "You're welcome. Although now I think you could have handled Lockhart on your own."
"Never," she laughed. "Your remarks to him were priceless."
More minutes passed in silence. Airelle was about to mutter something else about Lockhart and Dumbledore when--
"D'you hear that?" asked Snape. His head had perked up, and his angular chin was set. Airelle let her eyes dart towards the several paths that came towards the fountain. And sure enough, there were voices. Two, actually. But even if Airelle had not recognized them, their conversation surely would have aroused anyone's attention.
"Are you sure you do not have it?" asked a female voice; it sounded extremely anxious.
"I told you, Tracy, no," said another girl's voice, which Airelle recognized as Alica's. "We just spent the last two hours searching for it in our dormitory, and it's not there!"
"How could it disappear?" The voices were getting closer now, and Airelle wisely motioned for Snape away from the fountain. They stepped off the path into the shadows.
"I don't know. I must've left it in the library or something! I brought it there to decipher some old symbols I found in it, and I don't remember if I returned to the common room with it."
"Alica! What if anyone finds out it's gone? What if it was important?"
"Relax, Tracy," said the other Ravenclaw as they emerged from a path and went towards the fountain quickly. "It's just an old notebook. It's just probably misplaced; why would anyone want to steal it? And besides, weren't you the one who was so nonchalant about taking it in the first place?"
Tracy smoothed her black hair over her dark blue dress robes, and sat on the edge of the fountain, at the very same place where Airelle had just been. "All right, I was, but now I'm not so certain. It could have been Dark Arts stuff. Maybe even some curse."
"Oh, come off it," said Alica, perching next to her friend. "You checked it with the detector, and nothing came up. It is probably some prank by the Slytherins, taking it. You can't even read half the stuff in it, for Merlin's sake!"
Tracy, however, was not calmed by that remark, and swirled her finger in the water absently. "We need to find it, Alica," she muttered softly. "We just got to."
Airelle's grip on Snape's sleeve tightened. Someone had taken T.M. Riddle's notebook. Voldemort's notebook. But why--and who--
An ear-splitting shriek shattered the air, and Tracy and Alica jumped up from their places. Airelle and Snape turned around in the shadows and stared towards a path where the sound had come from. It led to the Forbidden Forest.
The scream came again as a ruckus rose over the garden and the main doors. Airelle could hear people shouting "Lumos!"
"We have to go get Dumbledore!" yelled Alica to her friend over her shoulder as she ran towards a path leading to the castle.
Tracy pointed towards the forest and mouthed, "But what about--"
"Are you nuts? You want to go in there by yourself?" hissed the girl. "C'mon, we gotta tell them!"
And they shot off in the direction of the Great Hall.
There was one more scream, a pitifully squeaky one. It sounded oddly like--
"Oh, my God," whispered Airelle. "It's Neville."
Clutching her wand, she raced after Snape in the direction of the Forbidden Forest, leaving the fountain gurgling and lonely in the dark.
To Be Continued…
A/N: Next chapter coming as soon as my teeth recover completely and those & stitches are removed. I'm sick of typing with one hand and holding an ice pack to my cheek with the other. :)
