17.
After that, things ought to have got easier. Despite her illness, Vivian was still managing to get excellent grades, much to her friends' disgust; Marcus was avoiding them, and whenever they met he would eye them maliciously and say nothing. Lorna was evasive when they asked her what had happened between them, but she seemed much happier, and her old sparkle was beginning to return. Vivian decided it was time to relax a little, and try to recover her strength.
But she was reckoning without events beyond her control. At Hogwarts, the atmosphere was growing more and more tense as the weather grew warmer, Slytherin's heir had not been caught, and people began to look at each other with suspicion. Vivian was almost glad when the Easter holidays arrived, and it was time to go home. This time she was going home on the Hogwarts express, as she and Lucy needed to meet in London to consult a doctor whom Dumbledore had recommended. "Until the test results arrive from St Mungo's arrive we can do little," he had written to Lucy, "but Professor Dean is an extremely distinguished physician, and I hope that he may be able to do something for her."
Vivian was in fact growing extremely irritated with St Mungo's. "It's been weeks!" she would exclaim angrily to her friends, who could do little apart from make sympathetic noises. It became an accepted fact that Vivian would spend most of the afternoons in bed, and Lorna made a habit of bringing Vivian her notes to copy. She hated the feeling of powerlessness, of having to rely constantly on others. She wasn't sure she could put up with it for much longer.
Professor Dean was nothing if not succinct:
"There is little I can do for the girl without the results, which you say have not yet come." He said to Lucy, stroking his beard, which was long and black. "I will do what I can." He continued.
After examining Vivian's eyes, measuring her fingernails and asking her about her dreams, he sat silently for a few moments, gazing out of his window into the bustle of Diagon ally below.
"Um, is there anything you can do?" Vivian asked timidly after a moment. Professor Dean started and looked piercingly at her.
"You are still taking the Bene Liquidas potion?" he asked. Vivian nodded. "Well keep taking it. But in addition, I suggest you try this." He produced a packed wrapped in brown paper from his desk. He handed it to Vivian, and she caught a faint fragrant scent.
"What is it?" Lucy asked curiously.
"Tea." The professor replied shortly. "Take it once every two days. It will help."
"How?" Vivian asked. They two adults turned and glanced at her, as if they had not expected her to speak.
"It will not make you strong again, but it will help against sickness and dizziness." Professor Dean replied. "It will also produce deep and dreamless sleep, which benefits body and mind alike. This is all I can do in the present circumstances to relieve the symptoms. Come back when you have the results, and we will talk further."
Lucy and Vivian both rose to leave, the Professor took Lucy's hand and shook it. They he looked at Vivian.
"Until we meet again." He said softly. Vivian thanked him awkwardly, and turned to go.
"Be careful." He said softly, as the door closed behind them.
Jenny Ravell of St Mungo's eyed the pile of papers on her desk with weariness. As the most junior member of the staff, it always fell to her to take care of all the mail, a task which could often take the best part of a morning. Now she faced the pile of letters that needed to be sent with dejection.
Then something purple caught her eye at the bottom of the pile. A thick purple envelope addressed to Hogwarts. Jenny sighed. Purple was used in the hospital to indicate an urgent letter or despatch, but due to some oversight the letter seemed to have been filed with a pile of unimportant post, and had been delayed.
Jenny swore, and, seizing the letter, marched off to find a fast owl.
Some distance away, Vivian was preparing to return to school.
She was not in a particularly happy mood. She and Lucy had just had a blazing row. Lucy was determined that Vivian remain at home; it was, she insisted, complete madness to go back to Hogwarts in Vivian's condition, especially considering that Slytherin's heir was still at large. Vivian agreed with all this, but what she found hard to explain to Lucy was that Hogwarts had in some way become her home, her friends were extremely important to her, perhaps because she had never had any before. And there was something else, something vague but persistent, a feeling that she had to return to Hogwarts, that something was drawing her back there, whether she would or no.
When she finally arrived back at Hogwarts, and had parted somewhat coldly with Lucy, she wondered whether or not she had done the right thing. An atmosphere of fear had gripped the school, Harriet and Diana refused to go anywhere alone, and Lorna advised Vivian to remain in bed as much as possible, as in her weakened state she would be particularly vulnerable to the Heir of Slytherin.
Snape, who seemed to be thinking along the same lines, had said curtly that since it was hardly safe for her to be wandering the corridors in the evening, he would bring Vivian the Bene Liquidas potion in the Ravenclaw common room. He hardly seemed to hear her when she thanked him; he seemed particularly silent and absorbed at the moment, as were many of the teachers, and his bursts of nastiness occurred more frequently.
It was his nature, when worried, to take it out on others, and more than once he had to suppress a furious outburst against Professor McGonagall or some other colleague. He felt extremely harassed and concerned. Dumbledore, who, he reluctantly acknowledged, was the one person he could turn to in trouble, seemed rather preoccupied, although this could hardly be wondered at.
In May, the final blow fell. The rumours that Dumbledore had been sacked were proved correct. Nobody could really believe that he was gone. Most of the Hogwarts students were debating whether or not to leave, and everyone seemed particularly twitchy.
Harriet had left a few days after Dumbledore did, on the instructions of her father, a forcible man, who had ordered her to return home despite her protests. She had parted tearfully with her friends, but Vivian thought she could discern a trace of relief in her expression. After all, she thought, it was understandable: Harriet's mother was a muggle, so she might be counted as one of the Heir of Slytherin's victims, and since she had no choice about staying or going, her leaving couldn't be counted as disloyalty.
Snape, shepherding a class of reluctant third years to Divination a week after Dumbledore's departure was accosted by Professor McGonagall in her capacity of temporary headmistress:
"I'm rushed off my feet Severus," she said immediately, and indeed she looked it, her face was pale and there were shadows under her eyes, "I was wondering if you could take care of Dumbledore's mail? There's so much to deal with at the moment.
"Of course." Snape had replied, more gently than was his wont. But when he got back to his office he sighed, knowing that he was in for a lot of extra work.
The purple envelope lay innocently under a pile of letters on his desk, and waited.
After that, things ought to have got easier. Despite her illness, Vivian was still managing to get excellent grades, much to her friends' disgust; Marcus was avoiding them, and whenever they met he would eye them maliciously and say nothing. Lorna was evasive when they asked her what had happened between them, but she seemed much happier, and her old sparkle was beginning to return. Vivian decided it was time to relax a little, and try to recover her strength.
But she was reckoning without events beyond her control. At Hogwarts, the atmosphere was growing more and more tense as the weather grew warmer, Slytherin's heir had not been caught, and people began to look at each other with suspicion. Vivian was almost glad when the Easter holidays arrived, and it was time to go home. This time she was going home on the Hogwarts express, as she and Lucy needed to meet in London to consult a doctor whom Dumbledore had recommended. "Until the test results arrive from St Mungo's arrive we can do little," he had written to Lucy, "but Professor Dean is an extremely distinguished physician, and I hope that he may be able to do something for her."
Vivian was in fact growing extremely irritated with St Mungo's. "It's been weeks!" she would exclaim angrily to her friends, who could do little apart from make sympathetic noises. It became an accepted fact that Vivian would spend most of the afternoons in bed, and Lorna made a habit of bringing Vivian her notes to copy. She hated the feeling of powerlessness, of having to rely constantly on others. She wasn't sure she could put up with it for much longer.
Professor Dean was nothing if not succinct:
"There is little I can do for the girl without the results, which you say have not yet come." He said to Lucy, stroking his beard, which was long and black. "I will do what I can." He continued.
After examining Vivian's eyes, measuring her fingernails and asking her about her dreams, he sat silently for a few moments, gazing out of his window into the bustle of Diagon ally below.
"Um, is there anything you can do?" Vivian asked timidly after a moment. Professor Dean started and looked piercingly at her.
"You are still taking the Bene Liquidas potion?" he asked. Vivian nodded. "Well keep taking it. But in addition, I suggest you try this." He produced a packed wrapped in brown paper from his desk. He handed it to Vivian, and she caught a faint fragrant scent.
"What is it?" Lucy asked curiously.
"Tea." The professor replied shortly. "Take it once every two days. It will help."
"How?" Vivian asked. They two adults turned and glanced at her, as if they had not expected her to speak.
"It will not make you strong again, but it will help against sickness and dizziness." Professor Dean replied. "It will also produce deep and dreamless sleep, which benefits body and mind alike. This is all I can do in the present circumstances to relieve the symptoms. Come back when you have the results, and we will talk further."
Lucy and Vivian both rose to leave, the Professor took Lucy's hand and shook it. They he looked at Vivian.
"Until we meet again." He said softly. Vivian thanked him awkwardly, and turned to go.
"Be careful." He said softly, as the door closed behind them.
Jenny Ravell of St Mungo's eyed the pile of papers on her desk with weariness. As the most junior member of the staff, it always fell to her to take care of all the mail, a task which could often take the best part of a morning. Now she faced the pile of letters that needed to be sent with dejection.
Then something purple caught her eye at the bottom of the pile. A thick purple envelope addressed to Hogwarts. Jenny sighed. Purple was used in the hospital to indicate an urgent letter or despatch, but due to some oversight the letter seemed to have been filed with a pile of unimportant post, and had been delayed.
Jenny swore, and, seizing the letter, marched off to find a fast owl.
Some distance away, Vivian was preparing to return to school.
She was not in a particularly happy mood. She and Lucy had just had a blazing row. Lucy was determined that Vivian remain at home; it was, she insisted, complete madness to go back to Hogwarts in Vivian's condition, especially considering that Slytherin's heir was still at large. Vivian agreed with all this, but what she found hard to explain to Lucy was that Hogwarts had in some way become her home, her friends were extremely important to her, perhaps because she had never had any before. And there was something else, something vague but persistent, a feeling that she had to return to Hogwarts, that something was drawing her back there, whether she would or no.
When she finally arrived back at Hogwarts, and had parted somewhat coldly with Lucy, she wondered whether or not she had done the right thing. An atmosphere of fear had gripped the school, Harriet and Diana refused to go anywhere alone, and Lorna advised Vivian to remain in bed as much as possible, as in her weakened state she would be particularly vulnerable to the Heir of Slytherin.
Snape, who seemed to be thinking along the same lines, had said curtly that since it was hardly safe for her to be wandering the corridors in the evening, he would bring Vivian the Bene Liquidas potion in the Ravenclaw common room. He hardly seemed to hear her when she thanked him; he seemed particularly silent and absorbed at the moment, as were many of the teachers, and his bursts of nastiness occurred more frequently.
It was his nature, when worried, to take it out on others, and more than once he had to suppress a furious outburst against Professor McGonagall or some other colleague. He felt extremely harassed and concerned. Dumbledore, who, he reluctantly acknowledged, was the one person he could turn to in trouble, seemed rather preoccupied, although this could hardly be wondered at.
In May, the final blow fell. The rumours that Dumbledore had been sacked were proved correct. Nobody could really believe that he was gone. Most of the Hogwarts students were debating whether or not to leave, and everyone seemed particularly twitchy.
Harriet had left a few days after Dumbledore did, on the instructions of her father, a forcible man, who had ordered her to return home despite her protests. She had parted tearfully with her friends, but Vivian thought she could discern a trace of relief in her expression. After all, she thought, it was understandable: Harriet's mother was a muggle, so she might be counted as one of the Heir of Slytherin's victims, and since she had no choice about staying or going, her leaving couldn't be counted as disloyalty.
Snape, shepherding a class of reluctant third years to Divination a week after Dumbledore's departure was accosted by Professor McGonagall in her capacity of temporary headmistress:
"I'm rushed off my feet Severus," she said immediately, and indeed she looked it, her face was pale and there were shadows under her eyes, "I was wondering if you could take care of Dumbledore's mail? There's so much to deal with at the moment.
"Of course." Snape had replied, more gently than was his wont. But when he got back to his office he sighed, knowing that he was in for a lot of extra work.
The purple envelope lay innocently under a pile of letters on his desk, and waited.