Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters in this story (more's the pity--they could help pay my student loans) except for Eve Berger. Nor did I come up with the plot of PoA, and the scenes and dialogue included in that fab book, which I humbly reproduce at certain points herein. All that belongs to J.K. Rowling, Warner Bros., Bloomsbury, Raincoast, Scholastic...the list goes on!
A/N: Well, I'm finally back! I know it's been a while, but I moved about two months ago and was without internet access for a month. I also had to finish up a summer course at university, and coupled with a full-time job, I didn't have much time to write. But here's a new chapter, to be followed by others soon. And for those on the Snapefic Liberation Front mailing list, this is a bit of a preview--at least if Yahoomort doesn't screw up somehow. You guys get to see this chapter before anyone else, as FFN is down at the moment. You feel special, I know.
By the way, would anyone like to volunteer to be a beta reader? I have a wonderful beta (hugs Joan) at the moment, but I'm neurotic enough to want more input before publishing chapters. :-)
Enjoy!
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Chapter 12: Sirius Black Again
The rest of the school returned and winter term started, life returning to the usual rhythms of classes, assignments and Quidditch. With Slytherin's defeat of Ravenclaw at the match the weekend after everyone returned, much of the talk in the Gryffindor common room had returned to their chance of winning the Quidditch cup, with a lot of speculation about who would be where in the rankings, and if this team defeated that team and lost against another team, then Gryffindor may have a chance at the cup.
Eve sometimes wondered if she was the only person not discussing Quidditch, though she knew that wasn't actually true. There were other students, of course, that were either not interested or that just didn't join in. Hermione Granger was one. She seemed to have given up conversation of any kind after an apparent disagreement with Harry and Ron over Christmas. Though that partly could have been because of the girl's workload; practically every time Eve passed her, Hermione was surrounded by stacks of books and parchment. Eve could sympathize; with the vacation over homework was piling up, teachers giving out more and more assignments, so that she had little time even for the small amount of socializing she did with her fellow Gryffindors.
She hadn't completely discarded interpersonal contact, however. Three weeks after term began she was sitting in her room, working on a Charms essay when there was a tentative knock on her door.
She opened it and saw one of the fourth-year girls standing there, looking a little nervous and clutching a book, parchment, quill and ink.
Er, hallo. You're Eve Berger, right? Eve nodded, wondering what the girl wanted. I'm Glynnis Elsinore, and I, er, wondered if I could ask you for some help?
Uh, okay. I'm just not sure how much I can help with schoolwork--I'm only a first year...
Well, it's with Muggle Studies, actually, there are some things I just can't understand, and, well, you're probably the best person to ask.
Okay. Um, come on in. Take a seat, Eve said, showing Glynnis in and both of them taking a seat on her bed. Glynnis outlined her problem--understanding the Muggle obsession with cars--and Eve did her best to try and explain it, trying to tutor the younger girl a bit instead of just giving her all the answers. They ended up working for a few hours, and parting with Eve's offer to help her with future work.
Within the space of two weeks she had been approached by a few other students asking for help in the same course, three Gryffindors and one each from Slytherin and Hufflepuff. Professor Truman, the Muggle Studies teacher, teased her one day about doing his job for him and suggested her leading a tutorial class for Muggle Studies students, but Eve declined. She had enough to do as it was and it worked out better if students in need of help came to her individually. There were no large hordes beating a path to the Gryffindor common room for her assistance, but a few students came up to her in the library after that, asking for help in understanding their coursework. She became good acquaintances with some of them, but even if there were no major friendships forged, it was good enough for her just to feel that she was needed.
When she mentioned this to Dumbledore at their next meeting he smiled at her kindly, though she thought there was some regret in his tone and expression.
It is a very nice thing to be needed, yes. But take care that you never start to see that as your worth in this world. All uses have their end, and those who define themselves by their usefulness, eventually have difficulty coping with their lack of purpose when their chosen work is finished.
Eve didn't comment on this advice with more than a nod. She got the feeling that it was only partly directed at her, the look of disappointment in his eyes making her wonder if he thought there was someone he should have given that advice to somewhere in his past.
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Despite the gloomy weather and increasing workload, Eve's mood actually improved over the first couple months of term. She was making better progress in her classes, performing a little above average as she had been used to in Muggle school. Both she and her teachers were pleased with her performance and she was starting to feel the usual small glow she got from knowing that her teachers were pleased with her work. It was very gratifying to hear them praise her progress, even though she was still far from perfect.
She had even come to view her Potions tutorials with a little less dread than she had been. Despite the animosity between her and Snape she was improving, and was also learning to read Snape a little better. While he never said anything encouraging or nice, she had learned to read his backhanded compliments as compliments, and knew that when she received one that she had done well. A congratulations, Miss Berger, you've finally surpassed Longbottom, or even better, a terse delivered in his usual acidic tone, was becoming as gratifying as other teachers' praise, as she knew that was the most she could expect him to say. He would never admit out loud that she had done well, and so she didn't expect it.
Where there were highs, however, there were also lows, sometimes in such a short period as a day. When Gryffindor won the Quidditch match against Ravenclaw in the first semester, Eve was there cheering on her house team as loudly as anyone, screaming herself hoarse when they won, firmly putting Gryffindor back into contention for the house cup.
That night hardly anyone got any work done, though she saw Hermione trying do some of hers. Eve decided to forget about her schoolwork for just one evening and celebrate with the rest of her house, enjoying the celebrations and the food that the Weasley twins had brought. Everyone was either exclaiming loudly about the events of the match or laughing at Malfoy and his cronies' failed attempts to frighten Potter by posing as Dementors. No one seemed to know just what it was that Potter had fired at them from his wand, but then almost no one cared, too busy giggling over the results it had achieved.
It was late before Eve finally went up to bed, the party still going on downstairs as she crawled under her warm duvet, Erik curled up next to her like a furry, purring, heating pad. Thankfully it was a Saturday night and she could make up for the lost sleep by sleeping late the next morning, or so she thought.
The next thing she remembered hearing was a distant scream, and in the fogginess of half-sleep she thought that the party had woken her up moments after falling asleep. But as she woke further, she realized that except for the cries, all was quiet--the party had ended. And those cries had not sounded jubilant.
There were loud voices in the common room now and feet were padding down the staircase to the common room. Throwing on her dressing gown, Eve stuck her head out the door.
What's going on? she asked a passing sixth-year.
The other girl shrugged, yawning. Dunno. Going to see what they're on about.
Eve followed the horde, finding Ron Weasley arguing with Percy as well as Harry Potter. She hardly had a chance to listen to their conversation before the portrait hole swung open and Professor McGonagall stepped in, evidently thinking that the party was still going on.
Ron stopped that thought, however. Professor, I woke up and Sirius Black was standing over me, holding a knife! he yelled, silencing everyone in the room.
Eve hardly heard what McGonagall and Ron said next, as she looked around at everyone else. They seemed to be thinking the same thing she was. Sirius Black couldn't have gotten in one of the dorms, he just couldn't...
McGonagall stepped outside to ask Sir Cadogan whether he had let Sirius Black into Gryffindor Tower, and everyone in the room gasped when he answered that he had, that Black had had all the passwords for that week written on a sheet of paper.
When McGonagall returned, her nostrils were flaring, every muscle in her face tense as she looked around the room with a piercing gaze.
Which person, which abysmally foolish person wrote down this week's passwords and left them lying around? she said, her voice low and clipped.
A small squeak echoed in the silent room, and the group of students parted to show Neville Longbottom, trembling with fear and growing paler by the minute, looking wide-eyed up at McGonagall. Slowly, he raised one shaking hand into the air.
McGonagall stared at him for a moment, before barking, Longbottom! My office! Now! I will have to inform the Headmaster of this.
Neville squeaked again, looking as though he was hoping a rock would appear that he could crawl under. With slow, shuffling steps, he walked past McGonagall and out of the common room, looking for all the world like a prisoner headed to the gallows.
Prefects, make sure no one leaves this room. We will have to search the school and if any of the teachers finds any one of you outside this room, you will be cleaning the Owlery with a toothbrush for three months!
With that, the portrait swung shut, a wave of conversation rising the instant the hole was closed behind her.
Snape woke to the sound of someone banging on his door. Groggy, he fumbled for his wand, croaked and pointed it at the grandfather clock over by the fireplace, cursing loudly when he saw the time. It was three a.m.--either the middle of the night or early morning, whichever way you looked at it. Either way, it was far too early for him to even consider being conscious, much less for someone to be pounding on his door like they were trying to knock it down.
He rolled out of bed, shoving his feet into slippers before he marched over to the door and yanked it open.
What in God's name do you think you're-- he started, as he opened the door, but Minerva McGonagall interrupted him as she came into view.
Sirius Black was in Harry Potter's dormitory room! Dumbledore has ordered a search--we're all to meet in the Great Hall.
The students?
They're to stay in their dormitories.
Then give me a moment to get ready. He turned from the door and grabbed a day robe from the wardrobe, pulling it on over his nightshirt. He met Minerva at the door, locking it and stopping at the door to the Slytherin dormitories, ordering the painting of a rather fierce-looking British army general to not allow any students out of the tower. That done, he joined her once more and they hurried up to the Hall.
By the time they arrived the rest of the teachers were assembled, all dressed in whatever they could grab at a moment's notice.
Dumbledore gave them orders to search the same areas they had at Halloween in the same pairs and they set off, all of the teachers looking grim. Snape didn't say anything to Lupin but watched him carefully during the meeting and search, making sure to double-check every room that Lupin reported as being empty. Lupin had to be helping Black in, there was simply no other way that he could be getting in otherwise.
He had taken a quick glance into one of the classrooms that Lupin had just checked, when he heard Lupin's voice from immediately beside him.
You don't trust me, do you Severus."
Snape whirled around to face him, reflexively putting on his well-honed poker face. I was simply looking to see if there was anything you'd missed, he said, mildly, but he could tell that Lupin didn't believe him.
When Lupin replied, it was in that calm, collected voice that drove Snape right up the wall. Why couldn't the man just lose his temper for once? Well I don't know why I'm bothering to defend myself against you--God knows you'll believe whatever you want, I know you that well--but I find it hard to believe that you could even think that I'd give the time of day to Sirius Black after he betrayed Lily and James Potter. Though perhaps you can't understand that kind of loyalty?
Lupin turned and strode quickly away, before Snape could make a comeback to Lupin's jibe. For an instant, Snape had to wonder if the other man knew about his chequered past, but pushed it aside. No, the only people who knew about that were Dumbledore and McGonagall. Some of the other teachers knew he had been a spy, but didn't know that he had been a Death Eater and turned, not that he hadn't been a spy all along. His trial hadn't been public, there could be no records on it. There was no way for Lupin to find out, unless...
No. No matter how much Dumbledore may trust him, the Headmaster wouldn't have told Lupin about me. He wouldn't.
Snape shook off the thought. No, Lupin was just rubbing in the fact that Snape had never been a very popular person in school, even amongst the Slytherins, and those friends he had had were either dead, in Azkaban or were at least known to have been Death Eaters. Lupin was just preying on his chosen solitude, that was all. As much as he had been disappointed in Dumbledore a few times these past few months, Snape knew that his secret was safe with the headmaster.
They finished the search in silence, meeting with the others at the Great Hall sometime around four-thirty in the morning. No one had seen any sign of Sirius Black, no hint as to how he had got in or back out. Dumbledore dismissed everyone to go back to bed, saying that it was unlikely Black was still in the castle or would return that night at least and that he would discuss security with them after they had all had some sleep.
Snape went, but didn't go to sleep at first; couldn't do so, though he lay down and pulled the covers around him. His mind swirled with thoughts of Lupin and Black and his own school days. When he finally did go to sleep, it was a slumber disquieted by dreams of Black's sneering teenaged face and of werewolves hiding in shadows.