{Disclaimer: J.K. Rowlings owns the Harry Potter World. I only own the characters that are figments of my twisted imagination.}
{Author's Note: The point of view in this chapter is from the prisoner. Her chapters are first person perspective, all the others are third person. I hope that makes things less confusing.}
Chapter 3
Mysterious Ways
*** The naming of cats is a difficult matter/ It isn't just one of your holiday games/ You may think at first, I'm as mad as a hatter/ When I tell you a cat must have three different names…… But above and beyond there's still one name left over/ And that is the name that you never will guess/ the name that no human research can discover/ And the cat himself knows and will never confess. "The Naming of Cats" Andrew Lloyd Weber ***
I didn't know what to say. It had never occurred to me that I had never murdered the people that haunted my dreams. I had never thought that I had been set up and imprisoned for no reason save who knows what. "Do you really think so, sir?" I asked quietly.
"It may be so. Now I would like to speak with Professor Snape in private. Would you mind leaving us for a while?"
"No not at all. Is the library open?"
"It should be. Do remember where it is?"
"I can find it, sir. Thank you." I left out of the door that we had come in through. The library… I thought for a moment, trying to remember the layout of the school. It seemed to be one of the things that I could remember. The library, from where I was standing would be a few corridors to the left and down a few staircases.
Luckily I was correct, for once and ended up in front of the giant carved doors that led to the stacks of books. I entered cautiously, making sure that no one was there. It was empty. I started down the closest row of shelves, running my fingers over the bindings. Some of the titles brought back memories, like Hogwarts, a History or 1001 Magical Herbs and Fungi or so many others with similar titles. On a whim, I pulled out a random book and started to read, not looking at the title. It was something about potions. I flipped through a few pages. I remembered some of the mixtures that were being made.
A young girl dressed in black robes stood behind a table, vial in one hand, measuring cup in the other. Her lower lip was being chewed on as she poured them deftly into a simmering cauldron. It steamed and bubbled ferociously before turning a shade of clear blue.
"Well done. Full marks." A man, face nameless to her memory, congratulated the girl with a pat on the shoulders. She turned and grinned up at him.
"Thanks, Professor."
"You are most welcome. I would not have expected anything less than perfection from you."
The scene changed to a dimly lit room. It might have been a laboratory of some sort belonging to a mad scientist. The same girl, a few years older now, stood hunched over a table, writing swiftly across a piece of parchment. She finished what she was putting to paper and stood up. Nearby was a boiling cauldron. From a shelf, she pulled a vial of red liquid and added it slowly to the frothing mixture. It changed to a shade of medium green, like the color of midsummer's trees. "I've done it! It finally worked!"
It faded back to library where I stood alone. I shook my head, clearing away the few seconds of what I had seen. What had it been? I looked down at the book I held in my hands and carefully placed it back where I had taken it from. I wandered down the row and into the next, glancing over titles, seeing if any sparked interest in my dormant memories. None did or at least none that I could tell. I picked another book, this time a thicker one. Famous Witches and Wizards in the Twentieth Century. I flipped through it. Some of the pictures of the wizards that were there were recognized, others were as unfamiliar as they ever would be. Nothing interesting that I could see. I put it back and pulled out the nearest one. I flipped through it and began to read.
I had read about a quarter of the way through the novel when I felt something on my shoulder. Without thinking, I dropped the book. The hand on my shoulder was grabbed tightly. I bent down on my knee, grabbing who ever it was by the robes and flipping him over my shoulder on to the ground. My voice turned low and threatening as my eyes widened. "I told you everything, damn it! What else do you want from me? There is nothing else."
I didn't know where that came from. The voice and comments escaped me before I knew what I was saying. I then realized who I had thrown to the ground and was currently pinning there. "Oh, shit. I'm so sorry! I didn't mean that. Really, I didn't!" I helped him up roughly, shaking.
"Damn pit bull," Snape muttered as he stood up, dusting off his robe. He rotated his shoulder a bit, getting the kinks out of it. "What the hell was that for?"
I looked at him with wide eyes, terrified. "I don't know. It just happened. You surprised me."
He shook his head. "Pit bull."
"What?"
"I said pit bull, as in the little Muggle guard dogs that bite first and ask questions later and tend to attack without being provoked."
"Oh. I think that's an apt description." I bent to pick up the book that I had been reading.
"Did you find anything interesting?"
I nodded. "I found a book about the history of the Dark Arts." I held out the book towards him.
"And you understand this?"
"Yes, it's not that hard to. Why? You didn't expect me to?"
"Read the title for me."
I looked at the cover. "Los Artes Oscuros: La Hístoria. Oh."
"Exactly. And you understand the language this is in?"
"Yes. I think it's Spanish, actually. It makes perfect sense to me." I flipped the book open to the introduction. "Los Artes Oscuros tienen unas de las hístorias más interesantes en el mundo mágico." I nodded. "It makes perfect sense. The Dark Arts have one of the most interesting histories in the magic world."
Snape gave me of the looks that he was famous for. "You understand how to read and speak Spanish, yet you don't remember your own name."
I shrugged and put the book back. "Well?"
"Dumbledore wanted to speak with you before we leave."
"Lead on." I followed Snape back through the winding hallways and corridors, through the gargoyle, and back to Dumbledore's office.
"Ah, yes. Did you find anything interesting in our library?"
"Actually, I did, sir. I found a book on the history of the Dark Arts that was completely in Spanish."
"You comprehended what it said?"
"Yes, sir, I did."
"Well done," Dumbledore nodded in satisfaction. "So it seems that you remember mostly everything save your personal life."
"I believe so, sir. I can remember Spanish, and how to play the piano, yet I don't remember my name or who I was, so yes, exactly so."
"We have decided to let you stay here once the school year begins."
"Thank you, sir."
"But there are a few other things we need to discuss."
"Like what, sir?"
"For a beginning, you need a name, and if you are to stay here, you will need a job. Unfortunately for you, all the major teaching positions are filled, unless you want to be an assistant professor."
"In what subject, sir? I'm not sure what I remember."
Dumbledore looked past her at Snape, who imperceptibly nodded. "I believe that Professor Snape would be willing take you on, if you remember what you are doing in potions."
"I can try, sir. Test me on them to see what I know. I know that I would like to see what I know, sir." I looked at him, eyes wide and bright.
"Very well, then. That is decided. Severus, would you like to test her now or later?"
"There is time today to get most of the major testing done."
"Go ahead with it, then. Report back to me when you are finished."
"Yes, sir," I told him with a slight grin. I hoped I remembered something about mixing together the odds and ends of potions.
"Come along, Pit bull," Snape whispered to me and he turned out the door. I had not choice, but to follow.
Dumbledore smiled slightly to himself. He had a feeling that neither of them knew what they were reaching into. Snape obviously liked the woman, not as like-like, but more as respect. It was odd enough to him that Snape had taken her in. It had been more ironic that the Sorting Hat had decided that she had been a Gryffindor, the house that Snape held a grudge against. And yet he had heard Snape call her "Pit bull" as they had walked out of the room. Dumbledore wondered where the name had come from, but it was the start of a name for the one who had lost her own.
The dungeons were dark, dreary, and cold, reminding me of Azkaban but without the deep bone chilling dread that attached itself to the prison. Snape picked a door at seemingly at random from the barred entrances that decorated the corridor.
"This is one of my private laboratories. We will work in here for today to see if you know what you are doing." He entered in a swirl of black. Why did he always have to be so dramatic?
I gulped and went into the room. Snape was standing by a neatly ordered shelf, searching for a book. He pulled a rather dusty one of the shelf. "The Intermediate Mastery Guide to Potion Making. Some of these are rather complex, but instead of making you go through the basics, I want to see what you can do."
I was going to dive head first into something I had no clue about. Great, I thought to myself. I'll probably drown in the process. I took the book and flipped through it. "Which one am I going to have to make?" I asked rather hesitantly. Snape grabbed the book back and turned it to a page.
"This one. It is a rather interesting potion that is used for healing, if you are up to it."
He was going to challenge me, was he? We would see about that. "I'm up to it." He handed me back the book. The list of ingredients was long and I did not recognize a few of them. I decided to wing it.
"All the ingredients are on that table, along with everything you might need. I will be timing you. The timer starts now."
I was not going to rush. Speed was no reason to screw this thing up. I approached the table; book in hand like a safeguard. All the ingredients were there, thankfully. I found what I needed, even the ones that I had no idea of what they were. They were deposited on the table with my cauldron. I looked at the first ingredient. It was a powered herb of some sort. I measured it out, carefully pouring it into the cauldron heating over the flames. I added the next ingredients, following the directions exactly. I minced the ginger root, crushed the Balmony leaves with the mortar and pestle, and chopped things that I did not know of and would not have known save that they had been labeled. I added them at the right times and waited. The potion was a shade of deep plum. It wasn't supposed to be a shade of deep plum. That wasn't good. I stared at it, deciding where I had gone wrong. It slowly faded to a cobalt color. That was the color it needed to be. I sighed. I could feel my hands shaking in nervousness. I would go through with this. I would get it done with and do it correctly. There were only two ingredients left to prepare and add: a hair from a unicorn's tail and a piece of a unicorn's horn (powdered), both known for healing properties. I dropped the hair into the mixture, hoping for the best. It sizzled and fizzed as the hair dissolved, sending swirls of a metallic white into the blue. I waited until the swirling stopped to add the powdered horn. The sapphire shade lightened slightly, which was good. I had to let it simmer for two minutes for it to be completed.
The two minutes felt like two years as I watched the clock with an almost paranoid frenzy. It seemed to slow down, telling me that I would never be done. I would never be done.
The girl wore a white lab coat, like a Muggle scientist, which she was often teased about. She took it with good humor, liking the coat she wore. It made her feel special and held memories of when she had attended a Muggle school for a year, just for the fun of. She dipped a vial in a vat of green potion, holding it up to a candle light. Emerald flickers danced on the brick walls around her. "I did it," she spoke softly so that only she could here it. "I did it and they shall never know." She looked around the room to see if anyone was watching. The vial was placed a rack with a few others of the same making. Pulling a wand from her pocket she spoke the words of a spell and pointed her wand at a piece of paper written in a loose scrawling script. The words disappeared. "There. It is complete. They will never know my secret. Only I know and I will never tell."
The clock struck the two minute mark. I turned off the flame and removed my cauldron. Snape had been leaning against the wall watching me like a hawk, waiting for me to do something wrong. "Done." It was the first word I had spoke in the entire two hours that I had been working. I handed the cauldron over to Snape. He looked at like it was a four day old road-kill opossum. To say that he did not look happy was an understatement. He poured a small measure of it into a vial.
"You better hope this works, Pit bull." He pulled a knife from a side cabinet. "Give me your arm. I am going to make a small cut on it. You will then drink the potion. If it heals, you pass. If it doesn't, well, you know what will happen."
I glared. I extended my left arm out in front of me, forearm upward and bare. He dragged the sharp blade across it, leaving a trail of blood. I took the potion silently and waited. Would it work? Would I be an utter failure? Worse yet had I been an utter failure before?
I watched as the gash on my arm closed, leaving only traces of blood on the surface. Snape, for only a moment, looked dumbfounded.
"Very well, Pit bull. Come along. We will have to report this to Professor Dumbledore." He glowered at me. What had I ever done to him?
There was some else in Dumbledore's office we finally got back up there. "It went well as expected. He should be back any time, definitely before the semester starts up again." Who ever had been reporting back to Dumbledore was cut off by Snape's knock at the door.
"Come in, Severus. We were just finishing up."
Snape stormed into the office with me trailing behind. He stiffened when he saw the other person in the room. The man had the same reaction. His eyes widened as they noticed me there as well. He looked as if he would run. His face was vaguely familiar.
"Don't worry, Sirius. She wouldn't tell anyone."
I spoke up. "I know you. You were in the cell across from mine. You escaped by transforming into a dog. I watched the whole thing."
Sirius looked shocked. "You came from Azkaban?"
I nodded. "Yes, I did. The Death Eaters broke in and let all the prisoners loose into the Dark Lord's clutches. I escaped with the help of Severus."
Sirius gave me a half smile. "Welcome back to the real world."
"Thank you."
Snape turned to Dumbledore as Sirius and I talked. He pulled another vial of the potion I had brewed from his robes. "She brewed this."
Dumbledore took it and held it up to the light. "Healing potion, one of the more advanced ones if I am correct. Perfect color." He opened up the vial and wafted the scent of it. "Smells correctly. You tested it, I assume?"
"Yes. It works well."
"I would say that you have yourself a competent assistant."
I listened to what was said with one ear and to Sirius with the other. I looked at Dumbledore briefly. He beckoned me to come over. "You have passed Professor Snape's testing on potions competency. I believe that qualifies for you for the position we discussed earlier. Do you accept?"
"Yes, I do, sir."
Dumbledore pulled a roll of parchment from his desk. "This is a contract binding you for teaching here at Hogwarts for one year. Please read it and sign at the bottom."
I read over the criteria. I gaped at the sum I was to be paid. "Is this how much teaching staff here always gets paid?"
"Your salary is slightly less, but yes. Good teachers are difficult to find."
I poised the pen that he had given me over the line to sign the contract and paused. "Sir, what do I sign it as?"
Dumbledore peered at me over his half moon spectacles. "Yes, you do need a name. Any ideas of what you would like to be called?"
I thought for a moment, chewing on my lower lip. "Esperenza."
"Hmmm?"
"Esperenza, it's Spanish. It comes from the verb esperar, which means to wait or to hope."
"Interesting, but you don't look like you are of Spanish origins."
"Then call me Peri for short."
"Fine, that would work. You only need a last name now."
"I don't know, sir. I don't remember much about last names. Do you have any ideas?"
Dumbledore looked at her closely. "You remind me of a wild animal, ready to spring. I suppose it has to do with having been a prisoner for so long. You also have shown intelligence with how you have performed and how you escaped. Therefore, we shall call you Lynx, for your small size, yet the ability to think on your feet like a wild cat."
"Pitbull would be more appropriate," Snape snapped.
"Severus, Pitbull would not make a good last name, only a nick name."
Snape continued his glaring at Sirius.
"Then Lynx it is." I signed the contract 'Esperenza Lynx.' "Here you go, sir. Thank you muchly."
"You are most welcome, Peri, if I may call you that."
"Certainly, sir. That's my name now."
"Yes, it is. Many an hour seems to have passed since you came to me the first time. I believe it would easier if all of you stayed here the night and left in the morning. Severus, I have instructed the house elves to refurnish the other room connected to the potions dungeons. That is to be Peri's room."
"Yes, sir." He turned in the usual flourish and left the room.
"Good night, Professor, Sirius. Thank you." I retraced my steps to the potions dungeon. Snape was standing by another doorway. He opened it for me.
"This is your room. Good night." He left me standing alone.
The room was well lit by candles. The bed was done in burgundy and purple. The floors were covered with a dark blue carpet. A fire had been lit in the stone fireplace. On the walls two portraits hung: one of a dragon and the other of a lynx. Obviously the house elves had been listening and heard my new last name. I pulled off my sandals, robe, and khakis that I still had on underneath. I slipped under the warm covers after blowing out the candles.
So much had happened in a day. I had escaped. I had been rescued and a new life was beginning. I had a job as a potions assistant and a place to live. On top of it all I had a name. Esperenza. To hope or to wait. Both suited me. I could only hope that I would remember who I was and I would wait until I did. Snape insisted on calling me 'Pitbull,' after a vicious little dog, which was better than something. I went to sleep for the first time with a smile on my face.
{Author's Note: It's done! As usual, this would have been done sooner. Also as usual, I had other things do, such as writing a science fiction story with a totalitarian government that used technology to promote propaganda for my European History class. The story to say the least was only 30 pages double spaced, but after having my dad proof read it, it had to be almost completely rewritten. So having written that much of the project, this tale stopped for a while. Balmony, the herb I mentioned in the potion that I created, is used as an internal remedy to purge and cleanse. It seemed appropriate. Anyway, thanks to the following person for reviewing my fic:
Bluemoon: Thank you for not skipping over my story. I really appreciate that at least someone that I don't know has taken the time to read it.
That's everything until the next chapter. Thanks and read my other fics while you are at it. I want opinions on those ones too! May The Force Be With You, Nataly Ravenlock}
