Potions

~~~~~

I've been relocated. It seems that one washing-up session is enough for the elves to know I'm not really suited for kitchen duty. So now I'm to work with a different group of elves in the school's laundry. This also means that there is very little for us to do until the students return.

Idleness isn't much fun; house elves enjoy relating self-punishment stories to each other, although I cannot imagine why. So after making some excuse to them I stand up, make sure my shadow is with me, and I leave.

Where shall we go, my shadow? Not to Dumbledore, perhaps to Hagrid's? He may need help in his garden. But why should I go anywhere in particular at all?

I walk slowly, just enjoying the castle. The suits of armour occasionally creak into movement, raising an arm and waving. The paintings smile pleasantly and then go back to talking to each other. This place is wonderful. And I'm free to roam through it.

I cannot begin to tell you how purely amazing that is. Everything here is friendly and welcoming, even if I will remain a secret. Like the elves I must never be noticed, never be seen. But for a few days I have the luxury of walking in the open without caring.

I bear scars still. But you can't see them.

A sound. Or was it just me? Did you hear something, shadow?

I turn. Only a teacher. Professor . . . Snape.

"Miss Malfoy."

Remember that I am a Malfoy. The sound of his voice will not make me shiver.

"Yes Professor?"

He is not hostile but neither is he welcoming. He's in the grey area this man, and I believe that is true in more ways than one.

With a sweeping gesture he asks me to follow him. Deeper we go, into the bowels of the castle, until I realise from the lack of windows that we are underground. Torches in racks hanging from the stone walls make our shadows flicker. I'm glad you're still with me.

The room he leads me to is a classroom. Rows of benches and long tables face a raised platform and the teacher's desk.

What am I doing in here?

"Take a seat Miss Malfoy."

I obey. Have the elves altered my mentality so quickly?

"You say you are a squib."

"Yes sir, I am."

"How do you know?"

"I can do nothing that needs magic."

"Here," he steps forward with something small and bright between his fingers. A pin. "Hold out your hand."

I don't move.

"Malfoy, as you know I'm the Potions master. Madam Pomfrey cannot do this for it is more than a simple blood test. Please hold out your hand," his voice is soft, but dangerous. Like cold black iron, that is twisted into beautiful scrolls and curves, but when one runs a finger along the edge it cuts. I raise a hand, he takes it.

At the contact of skin I cannot hold back a shiver. Magic. It's literally radiating from him.

Snape frowns and presses the metal into my thumb. A single drop of blood wells up. He pulls me to his desk where the blood drips into a shallow dish of clear liquid. He releases me, and I take a step back. There is silence as we both wait for the solution to react. I bite down hard on hope that I was wrong.

There is nothing. Nothing at all.

"It appears you are correct Miss Malfoy."

I nod. For Malfoys never cry.

~~~~~

Now she's really talking to herself. Who cares, I'm sure she can be allowed some trauma after what her father did to her.

And I didn't mean to include so much of Snape, but he was the only teacher who turned up.

Sorry this was so short.