Chapter 18: A New Twist
Hermoine felt very alone, though both Mrs Coeur and Patrice were with her. She felt unnerved to be with them, especially Patrice.
"I know it's a tough lump to swallow, Hermoine, but you must try," Patrice said. "Summon your wand to you. You can do it. You've used magic without a wand both in passion and in cold reason. You can do this." Hermoine concentrated on her wand. She lifted her hand, and the door flew open. Snape came in, scowling. Hermoine dropped her hands to her sides.
"What is this?" he demanded, shoving a piece of parchment in Coeur's face. "You intend to be back here again next year? And you want my job?"
"I thought you wanted Defense," she said simply.
"You-" he caught himself, catching sight of Hermoine and Patrice. His cold, calculating demeanor returned. "If you want war, madam, you shall have it." Hermoine flinched. His calm voice was worse then his angry rants, because she feared he meant to do harm. Snape stalked out of the room.
Patrice looked oddly at Mrs Coeur, and for a moment they seemed very similar.
"What?" Hermoine asked.
"All the professors know this classroom is out of bounds today," Patrice told her. Hermoine crocked her head to the side.
"I don't get it."
"He wanted to see who we were training." Patrice sighed. "Oh well."
Hermoine raised her arms again, and called her wand to her. It slowly rose, and floated to her shakily. It dropped into her outstretched hand. Hermoine could not help but smile.
"That was great!" Patrice exclaimed.
"That is one of the most useful things you'll ever be able to do," Mrs Coeur told her. "Most of us are still more powerful with our wands then without them." Hermoine nodded, and stored this away with the rest of her newly found knowledge.
Hermoine was exhausted by the time they let up for the afternoon. Harry and Ron talked about their upcoming match with Slytherin as they ate. Hermoine paid little attention to her two friends. Something was still bothering her. She looked up at Patrice, who gave her a friendly grin. Hermoine smiled back, but it was only a little smile.
"You two seem to be getting along much better," Harry said with a smile. Hermoine turned to her.
"And why shouldn't we?" she asked. "She's my roommate, after all."
"Were you jealous of her when she was going out with Ron?" Harry asked, poking her gently in her ribs. Hermoine squealed and pushed him away. She poked him back, but he didn't react.
"Harry's not ticklish there," Ron piped up, a grin slowly spreading on his face. "He's-" Harry clamped his hand over Ron's mouth. Hermoine burst into giggles. It felt good to laugh.
Hermoine looked over at Patrice. Patrice looked very worried. Hermoine caught her eyes. Patrice just shook her head. She didn't want to talk about it, at least not there. Hermoine suddenly felt bad. She had forgotten about Patrice mother. She tried to remember how long it had been. . . Since Christmas. . . . Poor Patrice.
After supper, Hermoine found an empty class for them to talk in.
"What's wrong Patrice?" Hermoine asked. Patrice looked away. Her voice was charged with tears.
"My mother," she whispered. Hermoine hugged her friend, forgetting about their squabbles. Patrice sobbed into Hermoine's robe as she continued. "She- she's been seen attacking people... They think she's- that she's gone bad." Patrice shook with silent weeping. "But my mother would never do that! Never!"
"Patrice, I'm sorry," Hermoine whispered. "And all these extra things you've done. . . . You should go home to you step-dad." Patrice blew her nose on a tissue.
"I can't," she murmured. "He thinks that I'm her target. She sent me something already, but he intercepted it. . . . a letter bomb. . . . My mother doesn't even know what those are!"
"Your step-father intercepted it?" Hermoine asked. Patrice shook her head.
"My father did. He thinks my mother, or who ever's controlling her, is after me." Hermoine held the other girl at arm's length.
"Patrice, why would they be after you?"
"To get to him."
"Your father?" she asked, trying to keep sense of all this.
"No. To Harry."
"Harry? Okay, you've officially lost me."
"It doesn't matter. Just know that if my father is drawn out because of me, then Harry will be next."
Hermoine stared at Patrice, her head filled with questions. She opened her mouth to ask Patrice something, but Patrice held her hand up.
"I can't answer any questions Hermoine. You are my friend, and I am glad to have you on my side, but there are some things that are dangerous for you to know. And until you've taken the vows, I cannot tell you any more. I'm sorry, Hermoine, but this is the way it is." Hermoine nodded. She reached into her pocket, and pulled out a tissue.
"Here, Patrice." She gave the tissue to her. "Are you going to be alright?"
"As much as I can be," Patrice replied softly. She blew her nose, and wiped the tears from her face. "Go on. Harry and Ron will probably be wondering where you are."
"Are you sure?"
Patrice waved her hand.
"Go on, Hermoine. I just need to be alone." Hermoine nodded, and she tip-toed out of the room.
Head bowed, he tried to keep his shaking under control. The voice whispered his name over and over again.
"Why didn't you tell me it was so bad?" asked a voice. Severus Snape looked up.
"It is none of your concern, foreigner," he replied acidly. "Leave me be!"
"It got to you, didn't it? That's why you came in during training."
"I said leave me, woman!" he snapped. She moved closer. He shot to his feet. The voice cried out for her blood.
"I will not leave you, Severus. You must fight. Do not let them take you. Think of all who have fought to keep you here. The voice has no power over one such as yourself!"
He sank to his knees. The voice roared to kill her. He fought it, with everything he had. He felt the young woman's hand on his shoulder.
"I believe in you," she whispered fiercely. He felt her presence. The voice receded slightly. "Stop it. Do not let the whispers of the Dark Arts claim you. You are a good man, Severus. Father." His eyes snapped up to hers. He then remembered meeting the Auror all those years ago, and he knew the woman before him. With all his might, he forced down the voice, cut it off, and thought of the beautiful Auror who had given him her heart. Then, he passed out into merciful darkness.
