~ enahma:
yeah, this IS leading to somewhere. Actually, the last chapter is already half-written. Nobody would guess so if he met me, but I'm this one of these fanatics who always makes herself time schedules and to-do-lists (I'm far too chaotic to get through my life without these little aids ^^). That's why I tend to write down the plot of every story before I begin to tip it at my PC.
However, there are some hints in the story that could get you an idea about its ending, but I try not to be too obvious (it would be rather dull if anybody could already anticipate the end of the story, wouldn't it ^^). But I have to admit that I sometimes leave my course. Take Glory for example. She was just introduced into the story to show Harry that Snape is not just the Greasy-Git-out-of-Hell he knows from his Potions lessons, but a rather understanding, sometimes even humorous Head of House, but somehow I grew so fond of her that I decided to give her more space in the story. Well, you'll see...
~ and like always my thanks to all my other reviewers!
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Chapter 9: Womanhood and the problem of decent conversation
"And you will really be alright, Harry?"
"For the one hundredths time this morning, yes I will." Harry rolled his eyes at his bushy-haired friend as he reached out for another bowl of porridge. "For heaven's sake, Hermione, how old do you think I am? I certainly won't die out of loneliness just because I have to stay alone for Christmas this year!"
In spite of this vehement answer, Hermione didn't seem to be quite convinced. "I just want to know if you are sure", she insisted, biting her bottom lip. "I mean really really sure."
Refusing to repeat himself another time, Harry began to eat his breakfast. He did not know what had gotten into Hermione and Ron lately, but ever since they had told him of their plan to spend the holidays with their families, they both acted like absolute weirdoes around him. If he didn't knew better, he would suspect them to feel guilty about leaving him out of something important, some big secret he wasn't supposed to know about yet.
A sarcastic smirk appeared on his lips. Great, he was already becoming as paranoid as the Slytherins. All he had to do now was to find himself a comfortable little chamber in the dungeons where he could dwell on important matters like the purity of blood and the pleasure of money, and Lucius Malfoy would probably adopt him right on the spot.
"Is something wrong, Harry?"
The boy's head jerked. "Err...no", he returned, forcing an innocent smile on his face. "I was just wondering where Ron is. It's not like him to miss breakfast."
Forgetting her worry about him in an instant, Hermione snorted angrily. "He's packing his suitcase!" she snapped. "Can you believe this? The train will leave in exactly two hours and Ron Weasley hasn't even began to pack his suitcase! I simply don't believe the boy sometimes! He knew for WEEKS that we would leave today, he head plenty of time to arrange his things, but NO, Mister Weasley leaves it all for the last minute. Like always! How is the supposed to pass the O.W.L.s at the end of this year? Personally, I am of the opinion that..."
Harry lowered his head so that his friend would not see his grin. Ron and Hermione had been quarrelling since the first moment they had laid their eyes on each other, but ever since the beginning of this year, their little fights had taken a rather amusing turn towards marriage throes. As far as he knew, there were already several bets on the question how much time they would still need to get over their shyness and to admit their feelings to each other...
"Do you listen to me, Harry?"
Widening his innocent smile, Harry looked up again. "Of course I do. You were just speaking about...the importance our grades have for our future lives?" he guessed.
"Correct", Hermione acknowledged, still sounding slightly irritated. Then she shot him his bossiest glance. "And like I said, I really advice you to use the opportunity to spent as much time in the library as you can when we're not here. You won't find it this empty so soon again."
Rolling his eyes inwardly, Harry tried to look as though he found the idea of non-stop learning over the Christmas Holidays really appealing. But then he actually did not fancy the thought of spending his entire time with the few First Years that would stay together with him in Gryffindor. "By the way, Hermione, do you know anyone except from me that stays as well?" he eventually asked around a mouthful of porridge. "I mean from the other Houses?"
As his bushy haired bit her bottom lip, Harry could almost see the wheels in her ingenious head working on overtime. "Well, certainly some of the Ravenclaws, they always like to have the library for themselves", she finally answered hesitantly. "And this blonde Hufflepuff girl Seamus was dating last year, if I'm not mistaken."
Harry hesitated shortly. "What about the Slytherins?" he finally asked reluctantly.
Hormone's gaze shot up. "What do you care about those?" she asked incredulously, a hint of contempt in her voice that made Harry angry beyond belief although he couldn't explain the feeling himself. "I was just curious", he returned shortly, taking a deep sip of his pumpkin juice.
It was strange, but somehow the last night had changed the hostile feelings he had held against Snape's House from the first day he had ever stepped into this school. If he thought about it now, he had to acknowledge that he knew next to nothing about the Slytherins. Being able to name almost all Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs above third year and to give a basic outline of the personality of each of them, he couldn't even put faces to most Slytherins of his own class apart from Malfoy and his little gang. And judging from the pretty girl with the biting wit he had met last night in Snape's rooms, he actually seemed to miss something.
For one moment he was tempted to tell Hermione about the previous evening. About the fact that his most loathed teacher, for whom he had always been Potter, a name spat with venomous hatred, had actually called him Harry, about Glory Caulfield, birthday parties in the dungeons and about the really frightening fact that the thought of having been meant to be one of the Serpents suddenly didn't held the old horror anymore. Merlin knew, if he had ever been in need for Hormone's calm reasoning mind it was now, but then he could hardly spoil her last breakfast at Hogwarts with shocking her to death.
Noticing that his friend's smart brown eyes still dissected him like a small animal on a lab table, he flashed her his most charming smile and to his surprise it actually worked for the girl relaxed and returned her attention to her breakfast.
Relieved, Harry tried to do likewise, but against his will his eyes wandered to the teacher's table just about ten seconds later to focus on Snape who was like so often sitting next to Professor McGregor and judging from his facial expression willing to kill anybody who approached him. It was the same expression he usually wore, but Harry couldn't help but think about how different he looked when he smiled.
*You take after your father so much and yet sometimes you sound just like Lily*
Strange as it was, he could actually begin to understand what his mother had seen in his Potions Master so many years ago. Of course, the man had always acted like a sardonic bastard towards him, but if he wanted to be honest, he himself had not been very obliging either; he did not even give him his thanks when he had discovered that Snape had saved his life in his first year. Instead he had chosen the easy route, had chosen to hate the Potions Master without asking twice about his motives.
Again he eyed him surreptiously, the thin features of his face, the irritating cold ebony of his eyes, the hard line of his mouth and suddenly he had to admit a feeling of relief at the fact that someone knew about his dreams, that someone understood. Of course he wouldn't have chosen Snape to confide in in the first place if he had had option, but now he thought that things could have turned out worse.
In this moment Professor McGregor noticed his gaze and winked at him, a bright smile on her angelic face, and despite of himself Harry found himself grinning back. He did not know what it was, but there was no way any decent human being could be gloomy when Morrigan McGregor smiled at him. If one wasn't Snape anyway.
Harry frowned as he observed the murderous glare Snape shot at his neighbour when she suddenly addressed him. The two of them seemed to exchange some sharp words with each other before Professor McGregor suddenly stood up and left the room with her usual grace, leaving Snape alone at the teachers´ table. For one moment Harry's and Snape's eyes met, some unspoken strong emotion tackling between them, before the older man returned his attention to his breakfast.
Strange, the boy thought absent-mindedly. Really strange...
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Twisting his fork artfully into his food, Snape listened to the silver metal scratching against the plate in a way most people would call irritating, his sour expression clearly suggesting that he would not think twice about using the fork against anyone stupid enough to speak to him, too. It grew ever harder for him to resist his desire to stare at the space where he knew the insolent Potter boy sat. Not only that he was still trying to process the fact that the Sorting Hat had recommended Lily's son to stay in his own House, he also had to acknowledge that everything he had assumed about the boy was entirely wrong. He had always considered Harry to be the exact copy of his disgusting father, the epitome of everything Gryffindor behold, chivalry, courage, and a lack of common sense the majority of the time, but the last night had proved him wrong. The boy was but the living replica of Lily with all her fears, all her doubts, all her strength and all her strong believes. And like her he had no idea about the enchanting charm of his brilliant emerald green eyes.
It was unnerving. Frightening even.
He nearly jumped when the woman at his side suddenly addressed him with that sort of casual voice he had begun to fear from her. "The boy stares at you."
Snape tried not to froze too visible at these words. "Can you possible try to be more precise, Morrigan? I guess there are several persons in this hall whom this description fits to", he told the golden woman beside him, shooting her a sardonic glare.
A knowing little smirk appeared on Morrigan's adorable full lips. "Severus, Severus, whom do you think you can fool?" she sighed, her beautiful sapphire eyes seeing right through his facade to his bleeding black heart. A heart so much like her own.
His lips thinned. She knew him far too well for his taste. "I don't think I understand what you are talking about", he retorted stiffly.
Like always, she did not even think about withdrawing from his coldness, but watched him with an intensity that made him tear his eyes away, something usually nobody but Albus managed since Lily had left his life. They were always the first to turn, not him.
"You're afraid of me." She finally said, breaking the silence momentarily. It was a bold statement, as if she knew the truth before he himself did. "Why? Aren't we friends?"
He turned away from her, refusing to look at her for he well knew the look he would see on her beautiful face. He could appreciate an effective scheme even if he did not necessarily approve of the consequences, but there was no way he could bring himself to face the unnerving sweet facade of a woman who was everything but innocent, a woman who had been his biblical Serpent and Temptress, damning him once and once again. But then like Mankind in general, he added with bitter sarcasm, he had never really *needed* the Serpent to fall.
"We are friends", he finally answered. It was the truth after all. They had always been friends, even when they had hated each other, even when they had tried to overcome the loneliness they both felt in the few desperate and lust-filled embraces they had shared what seemed a lifetime ago. They had always been friends. This world was a fucked-up place, but he bloody well couldn't imagine it without her. "And I sincerely hope this won't change."
"But you don't trust me?" There was no accusation in the question, only childlike curiosity.
Eying her intently, Snape shook his head very slowly. "No, I don't."
Her bright eyes began to sparkle with their usual cheerfulness, though this time it was truly genuine. "Sev, you're breaking my poor heart" she exclaimed flirtatiously, her eyes wide with innocence as she flashed him another bedazzling smile.
"And I thought that it was already broken before", he shot back, regretting it the instant the words had left his mouth when he saw the expression on her face.
"Morrigan I ...I didn't mean it."
"Oh yes, you did." For one short moment the ever-present guards in her eyes stripped away, letting the emotions run through them, sapphire blue tinged with traces of remorse, fatigue and hatred. Then she regained their composure. "One of these days we'll have to talk, Sev." It had been years ago when he had heard this cold, indifferent matter-of-fact voice from her the last time and the memory, brushing like a breeze within him, awakened his worst fears. "And I mean a real talk, not the ridiculous niceties we have exchanged for the last three months. We know each other too good for this."
"I agree", he returned softly, avoiding her eyes. But when he felt her standing up and leaving the Hall with her usual feline grace, he didn't look after her. Instead his eyes wandered to Potter who was now openly staring at him, looking as heart-wrenching innocent as always. But strangely, the sight did not infuriate him like usually, in the contrary.
His lips thinned. No, he would not tell Morrigan about the secret Potter had confided in him. He would protect the brat like he had protected his mother before him. There were so many things the boy didn't need to know about; how sharp Morrigan's fingernails could be, how pale Lily was when he told her to leave him forever, what serving Voldemort really meant.
Somebody really had to look after the boy.
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2 days later:
He couldn't believe it. He absolutely couldn't believe it but there he was, on the third day of his holidays, perusing the aisles of the library and trying to figure what he wanted to read over the next days. Harry snorted. It was pure irony, really, but it was still preferable to the Common Room with the three First Years that all stared at his forehead as though they expected his scar to turn pink every moment.
Pulling a source on animagi, he turned sharply to go to the tables and before he could stop himself, he collided into a soft body behind him and suddenly found himself laying on the ground in a pile of books and parchment.
A pair of sparkling violet-blue eyes flashed up to him. "Can't you watch where you're going, Potter?" None else but Glory Caulfield snapped angrily at him.
Harry stared at the pretty Slytherin, whom he had observed every day at the meals for the last three days, momentarily, feeling himself blushing. It had been an oddly pleasing discovery for him that the girl was staying over Christmas, too, but however he hadn't exchanged one word with her yet. Shaking his head to clear his thoughts, he stood up. "Are you all right?"
"Perfectly fine, I simply enjoy people colliding into me. What's it to you?"
"I'm okay." Instinctively he extended his hand to help her up. For one moment she stared wide-eyed at him as though a gesture of kindness was the last thing she expected from him, then her lips thinned. Ignoring his offer of assistance, she climbed to her feet unaided and bend over in order to pick up the book she had been carrying with her. "Serve your Gryffindor chivalry for someone who'd appreciate it", she snarled. "I wouldn't have your glorious self to find yourself subject to such terribly base drivel as to talk to a bloody Slytherin that is just out to kill the world."
Harry couldn't help himself, but he felt his cheeks heating at her hostile tone. Arrogant, snobbish, cold-blooded, stupid,...
But against his will, he suddenly remembered Professor McGregor's words from her first DADA lesson: *Slytherins start out the same as everybody else who passes through this school. They are not chosen for malice, but for their ambition and their capability of greatness. Never forget this, it is not the house that makes the wizard or the witch, it's the choice one makes!*
Frowning he stared at the pretty head of wild black curls. Perhaps this was the perfect chance to see if she was right, the perfect chance to understand why his own mother had sought the company for two Slytherins in her own Hogwarts days. And, a nasty little voice in his head added, it would show if all the thoughts he had lately invested in the girl had been worth the trouble.
"What are you reading?" he eventually asked, trying to sound unobtrusively as possible.
Glory squinted and stared hard at him, almost as if she were trying to discern
something in his face. "A book, obviously", she finally replied reluctantly.
As obvious as her desire to be left in peace. Harry knew that it would probably be wiser to take his leave now, before he could make a complete idiot of himself, but he simply didn't want to walk away though, not just yet. Not before he knew whether there was the slightest chance that he might get through to her.
"What sort of book?" he prompted.
"The sort with words in it."
"I was just wondering if you were all right."
Raising her chin, she speared him with a piercing cobalt blue glare. "What the hell are you playing at, Potter?" she asked icily. "Got a bet going with Weasley about how gullible the Slytherin bitches really are?'
He felt like being slapped into the face, shock registering plainly on his face, before a rush of hot anger shot up inside him. How stupid had he been to think that he could actually talk normally to one of the Serpents? "Forget it!" he snapped back. "I must have been out of my mind to think that one could have a reasonably civil conversation with one of your lot!"
Grabbing the book about Animagi he had already considered before, he sharply turned around to leave the library, when the girl's voice unexpectedly hold him back. "One hundred Counter curses and Protection Spells."
Curiosity and an odd sting of hope let his anger vanish and made him turn around. "Huh?"
Rolling her eyes, she pointed at the book in her arms, a reluctant pout reforming her crimson lips as though she was not sure whether her decision to speak to him was wisely. "You asked me what sort of book this is. It's a book about Defence Against the Dark Arts."
Harry did not alter his indifferent demeanour in any way, knowing that this would probably make her leave on the spot, but he could not help but feeling a kind of weird excitement. Now he only had to find something to talk about and...yes, and what? "Are you interested in DADA?" he eventually asked, knowing how stupid he probably sounded.
Glory shrugged, still a bit of hesitation in her expression. "I just read it to pass the time", she explained reserved. "The dungeons are rather dull with everybody gone. It's just me and two third years who are so dim-witted that I actually understand why their parents don't want them to have at home over Christmas."
Laughing, Harry relaxed a bit. "It's the same in Gryffindor; just me and three First Years for whom I am but a wandering forehead."
Breakthrough, at last; Harry could almost see the hostile barriers crashing
down in the warmth of her smile. "So we are both reduced to spent our holidays with non-stop reading", she concluded, her tone much less hostile then before. Biting her lower lips, she glanced towards the book in his arms. "What book is this, by the way?"
As Harry showed her the title of the book, her shook her head. "If you want to read something decent on Animagi you'd better turn to Marisa Carlisle!" she advised him. "This", she wrinkled her nose at the book in Harry's hands. "Isn't worth its paper."
Harry smiled. "Thanks."
Glory smiled back. "You're welcome."
The awkward silence returned. Biting his lip, Harry resisted the urge to fiddle with the edge of his sleeve. This was getting ridiculous. He had finally attempted to reach on of the Slytherins - to reach *this* particular Slytherin! - and now they couldn't even talk to each other? Eventually he couldn't stand it any more.
"Since we're the only persons our age staying in Hogwarts over the holidays, perhaps we could sometimes...I don't know play chess of something. Just to pass the time", he blurted out, a bit more breathlessly than he had intended.
Now she actually grinned. "I'll have to double-check my schedule, but at
present I don't see why not."
For one moment Harry felt like floating in air. "Okay", he said, grinning like an idiot. "Fine."
*We have 'Great ambition' and we are 'cunning', but nevertheless some of us can be trusted*
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More Author's notes:
So, what do you say? Do you like Glory? Even if you don't, I can't help it because she has completely charmed me so that I won't get rid of her too soon.
About Hermione´s and Ron´s odd behaviour... I decided not to elaborate it since I'm sure that whatever you imagine is better than whatever I could make up!
yeah, this IS leading to somewhere. Actually, the last chapter is already half-written. Nobody would guess so if he met me, but I'm this one of these fanatics who always makes herself time schedules and to-do-lists (I'm far too chaotic to get through my life without these little aids ^^). That's why I tend to write down the plot of every story before I begin to tip it at my PC.
However, there are some hints in the story that could get you an idea about its ending, but I try not to be too obvious (it would be rather dull if anybody could already anticipate the end of the story, wouldn't it ^^). But I have to admit that I sometimes leave my course. Take Glory for example. She was just introduced into the story to show Harry that Snape is not just the Greasy-Git-out-of-Hell he knows from his Potions lessons, but a rather understanding, sometimes even humorous Head of House, but somehow I grew so fond of her that I decided to give her more space in the story. Well, you'll see...
~ and like always my thanks to all my other reviewers!
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Chapter 9: Womanhood and the problem of decent conversation
"And you will really be alright, Harry?"
"For the one hundredths time this morning, yes I will." Harry rolled his eyes at his bushy-haired friend as he reached out for another bowl of porridge. "For heaven's sake, Hermione, how old do you think I am? I certainly won't die out of loneliness just because I have to stay alone for Christmas this year!"
In spite of this vehement answer, Hermione didn't seem to be quite convinced. "I just want to know if you are sure", she insisted, biting her bottom lip. "I mean really really sure."
Refusing to repeat himself another time, Harry began to eat his breakfast. He did not know what had gotten into Hermione and Ron lately, but ever since they had told him of their plan to spend the holidays with their families, they both acted like absolute weirdoes around him. If he didn't knew better, he would suspect them to feel guilty about leaving him out of something important, some big secret he wasn't supposed to know about yet.
A sarcastic smirk appeared on his lips. Great, he was already becoming as paranoid as the Slytherins. All he had to do now was to find himself a comfortable little chamber in the dungeons where he could dwell on important matters like the purity of blood and the pleasure of money, and Lucius Malfoy would probably adopt him right on the spot.
"Is something wrong, Harry?"
The boy's head jerked. "Err...no", he returned, forcing an innocent smile on his face. "I was just wondering where Ron is. It's not like him to miss breakfast."
Forgetting her worry about him in an instant, Hermione snorted angrily. "He's packing his suitcase!" she snapped. "Can you believe this? The train will leave in exactly two hours and Ron Weasley hasn't even began to pack his suitcase! I simply don't believe the boy sometimes! He knew for WEEKS that we would leave today, he head plenty of time to arrange his things, but NO, Mister Weasley leaves it all for the last minute. Like always! How is the supposed to pass the O.W.L.s at the end of this year? Personally, I am of the opinion that..."
Harry lowered his head so that his friend would not see his grin. Ron and Hermione had been quarrelling since the first moment they had laid their eyes on each other, but ever since the beginning of this year, their little fights had taken a rather amusing turn towards marriage throes. As far as he knew, there were already several bets on the question how much time they would still need to get over their shyness and to admit their feelings to each other...
"Do you listen to me, Harry?"
Widening his innocent smile, Harry looked up again. "Of course I do. You were just speaking about...the importance our grades have for our future lives?" he guessed.
"Correct", Hermione acknowledged, still sounding slightly irritated. Then she shot him his bossiest glance. "And like I said, I really advice you to use the opportunity to spent as much time in the library as you can when we're not here. You won't find it this empty so soon again."
Rolling his eyes inwardly, Harry tried to look as though he found the idea of non-stop learning over the Christmas Holidays really appealing. But then he actually did not fancy the thought of spending his entire time with the few First Years that would stay together with him in Gryffindor. "By the way, Hermione, do you know anyone except from me that stays as well?" he eventually asked around a mouthful of porridge. "I mean from the other Houses?"
As his bushy haired bit her bottom lip, Harry could almost see the wheels in her ingenious head working on overtime. "Well, certainly some of the Ravenclaws, they always like to have the library for themselves", she finally answered hesitantly. "And this blonde Hufflepuff girl Seamus was dating last year, if I'm not mistaken."
Harry hesitated shortly. "What about the Slytherins?" he finally asked reluctantly.
Hormone's gaze shot up. "What do you care about those?" she asked incredulously, a hint of contempt in her voice that made Harry angry beyond belief although he couldn't explain the feeling himself. "I was just curious", he returned shortly, taking a deep sip of his pumpkin juice.
It was strange, but somehow the last night had changed the hostile feelings he had held against Snape's House from the first day he had ever stepped into this school. If he thought about it now, he had to acknowledge that he knew next to nothing about the Slytherins. Being able to name almost all Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs above third year and to give a basic outline of the personality of each of them, he couldn't even put faces to most Slytherins of his own class apart from Malfoy and his little gang. And judging from the pretty girl with the biting wit he had met last night in Snape's rooms, he actually seemed to miss something.
For one moment he was tempted to tell Hermione about the previous evening. About the fact that his most loathed teacher, for whom he had always been Potter, a name spat with venomous hatred, had actually called him Harry, about Glory Caulfield, birthday parties in the dungeons and about the really frightening fact that the thought of having been meant to be one of the Serpents suddenly didn't held the old horror anymore. Merlin knew, if he had ever been in need for Hormone's calm reasoning mind it was now, but then he could hardly spoil her last breakfast at Hogwarts with shocking her to death.
Noticing that his friend's smart brown eyes still dissected him like a small animal on a lab table, he flashed her his most charming smile and to his surprise it actually worked for the girl relaxed and returned her attention to her breakfast.
Relieved, Harry tried to do likewise, but against his will his eyes wandered to the teacher's table just about ten seconds later to focus on Snape who was like so often sitting next to Professor McGregor and judging from his facial expression willing to kill anybody who approached him. It was the same expression he usually wore, but Harry couldn't help but think about how different he looked when he smiled.
*You take after your father so much and yet sometimes you sound just like Lily*
Strange as it was, he could actually begin to understand what his mother had seen in his Potions Master so many years ago. Of course, the man had always acted like a sardonic bastard towards him, but if he wanted to be honest, he himself had not been very obliging either; he did not even give him his thanks when he had discovered that Snape had saved his life in his first year. Instead he had chosen the easy route, had chosen to hate the Potions Master without asking twice about his motives.
Again he eyed him surreptiously, the thin features of his face, the irritating cold ebony of his eyes, the hard line of his mouth and suddenly he had to admit a feeling of relief at the fact that someone knew about his dreams, that someone understood. Of course he wouldn't have chosen Snape to confide in in the first place if he had had option, but now he thought that things could have turned out worse.
In this moment Professor McGregor noticed his gaze and winked at him, a bright smile on her angelic face, and despite of himself Harry found himself grinning back. He did not know what it was, but there was no way any decent human being could be gloomy when Morrigan McGregor smiled at him. If one wasn't Snape anyway.
Harry frowned as he observed the murderous glare Snape shot at his neighbour when she suddenly addressed him. The two of them seemed to exchange some sharp words with each other before Professor McGregor suddenly stood up and left the room with her usual grace, leaving Snape alone at the teachers´ table. For one moment Harry's and Snape's eyes met, some unspoken strong emotion tackling between them, before the older man returned his attention to his breakfast.
Strange, the boy thought absent-mindedly. Really strange...
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Twisting his fork artfully into his food, Snape listened to the silver metal scratching against the plate in a way most people would call irritating, his sour expression clearly suggesting that he would not think twice about using the fork against anyone stupid enough to speak to him, too. It grew ever harder for him to resist his desire to stare at the space where he knew the insolent Potter boy sat. Not only that he was still trying to process the fact that the Sorting Hat had recommended Lily's son to stay in his own House, he also had to acknowledge that everything he had assumed about the boy was entirely wrong. He had always considered Harry to be the exact copy of his disgusting father, the epitome of everything Gryffindor behold, chivalry, courage, and a lack of common sense the majority of the time, but the last night had proved him wrong. The boy was but the living replica of Lily with all her fears, all her doubts, all her strength and all her strong believes. And like her he had no idea about the enchanting charm of his brilliant emerald green eyes.
It was unnerving. Frightening even.
He nearly jumped when the woman at his side suddenly addressed him with that sort of casual voice he had begun to fear from her. "The boy stares at you."
Snape tried not to froze too visible at these words. "Can you possible try to be more precise, Morrigan? I guess there are several persons in this hall whom this description fits to", he told the golden woman beside him, shooting her a sardonic glare.
A knowing little smirk appeared on Morrigan's adorable full lips. "Severus, Severus, whom do you think you can fool?" she sighed, her beautiful sapphire eyes seeing right through his facade to his bleeding black heart. A heart so much like her own.
His lips thinned. She knew him far too well for his taste. "I don't think I understand what you are talking about", he retorted stiffly.
Like always, she did not even think about withdrawing from his coldness, but watched him with an intensity that made him tear his eyes away, something usually nobody but Albus managed since Lily had left his life. They were always the first to turn, not him.
"You're afraid of me." She finally said, breaking the silence momentarily. It was a bold statement, as if she knew the truth before he himself did. "Why? Aren't we friends?"
He turned away from her, refusing to look at her for he well knew the look he would see on her beautiful face. He could appreciate an effective scheme even if he did not necessarily approve of the consequences, but there was no way he could bring himself to face the unnerving sweet facade of a woman who was everything but innocent, a woman who had been his biblical Serpent and Temptress, damning him once and once again. But then like Mankind in general, he added with bitter sarcasm, he had never really *needed* the Serpent to fall.
"We are friends", he finally answered. It was the truth after all. They had always been friends, even when they had hated each other, even when they had tried to overcome the loneliness they both felt in the few desperate and lust-filled embraces they had shared what seemed a lifetime ago. They had always been friends. This world was a fucked-up place, but he bloody well couldn't imagine it without her. "And I sincerely hope this won't change."
"But you don't trust me?" There was no accusation in the question, only childlike curiosity.
Eying her intently, Snape shook his head very slowly. "No, I don't."
Her bright eyes began to sparkle with their usual cheerfulness, though this time it was truly genuine. "Sev, you're breaking my poor heart" she exclaimed flirtatiously, her eyes wide with innocence as she flashed him another bedazzling smile.
"And I thought that it was already broken before", he shot back, regretting it the instant the words had left his mouth when he saw the expression on her face.
"Morrigan I ...I didn't mean it."
"Oh yes, you did." For one short moment the ever-present guards in her eyes stripped away, letting the emotions run through them, sapphire blue tinged with traces of remorse, fatigue and hatred. Then she regained their composure. "One of these days we'll have to talk, Sev." It had been years ago when he had heard this cold, indifferent matter-of-fact voice from her the last time and the memory, brushing like a breeze within him, awakened his worst fears. "And I mean a real talk, not the ridiculous niceties we have exchanged for the last three months. We know each other too good for this."
"I agree", he returned softly, avoiding her eyes. But when he felt her standing up and leaving the Hall with her usual feline grace, he didn't look after her. Instead his eyes wandered to Potter who was now openly staring at him, looking as heart-wrenching innocent as always. But strangely, the sight did not infuriate him like usually, in the contrary.
His lips thinned. No, he would not tell Morrigan about the secret Potter had confided in him. He would protect the brat like he had protected his mother before him. There were so many things the boy didn't need to know about; how sharp Morrigan's fingernails could be, how pale Lily was when he told her to leave him forever, what serving Voldemort really meant.
Somebody really had to look after the boy.
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2 days later:
He couldn't believe it. He absolutely couldn't believe it but there he was, on the third day of his holidays, perusing the aisles of the library and trying to figure what he wanted to read over the next days. Harry snorted. It was pure irony, really, but it was still preferable to the Common Room with the three First Years that all stared at his forehead as though they expected his scar to turn pink every moment.
Pulling a source on animagi, he turned sharply to go to the tables and before he could stop himself, he collided into a soft body behind him and suddenly found himself laying on the ground in a pile of books and parchment.
A pair of sparkling violet-blue eyes flashed up to him. "Can't you watch where you're going, Potter?" None else but Glory Caulfield snapped angrily at him.
Harry stared at the pretty Slytherin, whom he had observed every day at the meals for the last three days, momentarily, feeling himself blushing. It had been an oddly pleasing discovery for him that the girl was staying over Christmas, too, but however he hadn't exchanged one word with her yet. Shaking his head to clear his thoughts, he stood up. "Are you all right?"
"Perfectly fine, I simply enjoy people colliding into me. What's it to you?"
"I'm okay." Instinctively he extended his hand to help her up. For one moment she stared wide-eyed at him as though a gesture of kindness was the last thing she expected from him, then her lips thinned. Ignoring his offer of assistance, she climbed to her feet unaided and bend over in order to pick up the book she had been carrying with her. "Serve your Gryffindor chivalry for someone who'd appreciate it", she snarled. "I wouldn't have your glorious self to find yourself subject to such terribly base drivel as to talk to a bloody Slytherin that is just out to kill the world."
Harry couldn't help himself, but he felt his cheeks heating at her hostile tone. Arrogant, snobbish, cold-blooded, stupid,...
But against his will, he suddenly remembered Professor McGregor's words from her first DADA lesson: *Slytherins start out the same as everybody else who passes through this school. They are not chosen for malice, but for their ambition and their capability of greatness. Never forget this, it is not the house that makes the wizard or the witch, it's the choice one makes!*
Frowning he stared at the pretty head of wild black curls. Perhaps this was the perfect chance to see if she was right, the perfect chance to understand why his own mother had sought the company for two Slytherins in her own Hogwarts days. And, a nasty little voice in his head added, it would show if all the thoughts he had lately invested in the girl had been worth the trouble.
"What are you reading?" he eventually asked, trying to sound unobtrusively as possible.
Glory squinted and stared hard at him, almost as if she were trying to discern
something in his face. "A book, obviously", she finally replied reluctantly.
As obvious as her desire to be left in peace. Harry knew that it would probably be wiser to take his leave now, before he could make a complete idiot of himself, but he simply didn't want to walk away though, not just yet. Not before he knew whether there was the slightest chance that he might get through to her.
"What sort of book?" he prompted.
"The sort with words in it."
"I was just wondering if you were all right."
Raising her chin, she speared him with a piercing cobalt blue glare. "What the hell are you playing at, Potter?" she asked icily. "Got a bet going with Weasley about how gullible the Slytherin bitches really are?'
He felt like being slapped into the face, shock registering plainly on his face, before a rush of hot anger shot up inside him. How stupid had he been to think that he could actually talk normally to one of the Serpents? "Forget it!" he snapped back. "I must have been out of my mind to think that one could have a reasonably civil conversation with one of your lot!"
Grabbing the book about Animagi he had already considered before, he sharply turned around to leave the library, when the girl's voice unexpectedly hold him back. "One hundred Counter curses and Protection Spells."
Curiosity and an odd sting of hope let his anger vanish and made him turn around. "Huh?"
Rolling her eyes, she pointed at the book in her arms, a reluctant pout reforming her crimson lips as though she was not sure whether her decision to speak to him was wisely. "You asked me what sort of book this is. It's a book about Defence Against the Dark Arts."
Harry did not alter his indifferent demeanour in any way, knowing that this would probably make her leave on the spot, but he could not help but feeling a kind of weird excitement. Now he only had to find something to talk about and...yes, and what? "Are you interested in DADA?" he eventually asked, knowing how stupid he probably sounded.
Glory shrugged, still a bit of hesitation in her expression. "I just read it to pass the time", she explained reserved. "The dungeons are rather dull with everybody gone. It's just me and two third years who are so dim-witted that I actually understand why their parents don't want them to have at home over Christmas."
Laughing, Harry relaxed a bit. "It's the same in Gryffindor; just me and three First Years for whom I am but a wandering forehead."
Breakthrough, at last; Harry could almost see the hostile barriers crashing
down in the warmth of her smile. "So we are both reduced to spent our holidays with non-stop reading", she concluded, her tone much less hostile then before. Biting her lower lips, she glanced towards the book in his arms. "What book is this, by the way?"
As Harry showed her the title of the book, her shook her head. "If you want to read something decent on Animagi you'd better turn to Marisa Carlisle!" she advised him. "This", she wrinkled her nose at the book in Harry's hands. "Isn't worth its paper."
Harry smiled. "Thanks."
Glory smiled back. "You're welcome."
The awkward silence returned. Biting his lip, Harry resisted the urge to fiddle with the edge of his sleeve. This was getting ridiculous. He had finally attempted to reach on of the Slytherins - to reach *this* particular Slytherin! - and now they couldn't even talk to each other? Eventually he couldn't stand it any more.
"Since we're the only persons our age staying in Hogwarts over the holidays, perhaps we could sometimes...I don't know play chess of something. Just to pass the time", he blurted out, a bit more breathlessly than he had intended.
Now she actually grinned. "I'll have to double-check my schedule, but at
present I don't see why not."
For one moment Harry felt like floating in air. "Okay", he said, grinning like an idiot. "Fine."
*We have 'Great ambition' and we are 'cunning', but nevertheless some of us can be trusted*
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More Author's notes:
So, what do you say? Do you like Glory? Even if you don't, I can't help it because she has completely charmed me so that I won't get rid of her too soon.
About Hermione´s and Ron´s odd behaviour... I decided not to elaborate it since I'm sure that whatever you imagine is better than whatever I could make up!