Chapter Thirty-Four: But I'm Not A Gnome!
She waited tirelessly in the early afternoon light. Watching the door anxiously, she listened to the hushed voices that spoke outside in a heated fervor. Getting out of her bed, she approached the window in slow steps, looking out at the first years' riding lesson. Her breath fogged the cold window, misting it with a smoked frost. She touched her forehead to the glass, the winter colors slowly blending before her eyes. She felt the weather beneath her skin, hoping for the approaching snow. Unexpectedly, the voices that had called to her in her coma came back, pining for her in their low guttural wails. She closed her eyes, attempting to chase away the drone of the lost.
"Natalia," a voice called to her, "Natalia, are you all right?"
A hand gripped her shoulder firmly, drawing her back to the present. She opened her eyes, the blend of wintry colors flooding back into her eyes. She sighed silently, lifting her face from the glass. Turning, she saw Snape behind her watching with a worried look on his face. She smiled wearily, trying to assume a contented composure. He frowned, seeing her altered outlook. "What's wrong?" he asked quietly, looking at her with great concern. She shook her head, still smiling. "Nothing."
"Natalia." The two turned to the witch standing behind them, her face drawn in a condescending frown. "I will have to discuss the terms of Draco being your escort with his father before you can go to the Gala with him," she said, her voice cold and articulated. "Meanwhile," she continued, "You are not to participate in this chess tournament Severus has told me about. I do not want to be liable for the same accidents happening again like the last time you dueled. Until you acquire better control of your skills, I will not permit you to duel."
Natalia's face fell, unable to hide the disappointment that she felt. She nodded sullenly, not expecting her mother to be any less strict. Aurelia leant forward and placed a curt kiss on her daughter's cheek, saying, "I must leave you now. My work calls for me more than I care for. Be well, darling."
She turned to Snape and gave him a quick nod. "Good day, Severus."
As she turned to leave, Natalia timidly called out, "M-mother? Will I see you during the Christmas holidays?"
The witch turned around, considering the question for a moment. "No, I am afraid not, dear," she replied, "I will be in Trincomalee during that time."
"Oh…" Natalia whispered, "I see. Then I shall see you at the Gala?"
Her mother nodded, replying, "Yes, perhaps, if I meet you there. Goodbye, Natalia."
The girl bit her lip, uttering quietly, "Goodbye." She stood watching the door as if hoping that her mother would come back to embrace her. But she did not.
Snape watched the girl, concern written on his face. He placed a hand on the small of her back. "Are you all right?" he asked her gently. After a long moment, she released her lip, the anticipation and hope fading. She nodded. Yes, she was all right. She was always all right. The Potions Master's hard heart sank at the sight of Natalia's hope dissipating. The blind devotion and adoration that the girl held for her mother was heartbreaking. He could not bear to let her know that her mother would most likely never return her affections – even if she were her daughter. Snape cleared his throat, asking softly, "Natalia, would you like me to persuade Madame Pomfrey into letting you dine in the Great Hall tonight?"
The girl tore her eyes away from the door and looked at him, forcing her lips into a smile. She blinked away the hint of grief that was rising in her eyes. "Yes," she replied, "That would be very kind of you."
He looked at her closely, watching her struggle to regain composure. The man sighed, wanting to console her. "Well, at least now you have more than enough dates for the Gala."
Natalia let out a soft laugh, remembering Draco suddenly. A stifled sob caught in her throat as she laughed, causing her to recall what the boy had done to himself. Snape frowned, not understanding the sudden change in her disposition. "What is it?" he asked, concern tingeing his voice.
Natalia took in a ragged breath, looking up at the professor. "Do you – do you know what Draco did?" she asked in a murmur.
The Potions Master closed his eyes and turned his face away. "Yes," he replied quietly, "I know about the potion."
"No," she said, "I mean…I mean what he did – did to…himself."
Snape frowned, unsure of what she meant. "What do you mean 'did to himself'?"
The girl sat in the chair, bringing her hands to her face, fighting the tears that so threatened her. "He…" She took in an uneven breath, choking quietly halfway. "Oh god…I can't…he tried to…" Blinking away tears that ran stubbornly down her face, she said almost inaudibly, "…kill himself."
Snape's face fell, dropping all the expressions it had once held. "He…what?" he asked in a hoarse whisper.
"Yes," she replied, "Yesterday. He told me this morning."
The Potions Master stepped back, running a hand distractedly through his hair. "Good gods…" he uttered, not believing the rashness of the boy. He rubbed his eyes wearily, letting out a heavy sigh as he sat down at the edge of the bed. Silence settled in the room like a thick fog, suffocating and nauseous. The professor looked up at the girl across from him. "Did he tell you why?" he asked thickly.
Natalia took a heavy breath, nodding slowly before replying, "He did not know what to do. He could not give me the potion, and yet he could not stand to face his father."
Snape's eyes flashed with intense abhorrence as he hissed out, "Lucius, the bastard."
The girl furrowed her brow, asking tentatively, "What about his father?"
The professor's angry eyes turned away, his voice coming in a low growl. "Lucius has always expected Draco to be a Death Eater. Ever since Draco came to Hogwarts, his father has used him as a pawn. The boy never dares to disobey him because he knows well that the punishments will be most detrimental."
It took a moment, but Natalia's face fell in shock when she realized what he meant. "You – you mean…he would –"
"Yes," Snape replied grimly, "Abuse is not rare in the Malfoy lineage."
"And Draco has been…" She trailed off, comprehending for the first time the real weight of Draco's burdens. She looked at her professor remorsefully, unable to speak.
"He has finally stood up to him though," the Potions Master breathed quietly, "Once. When he was asked to give you the potion."
Natalia nodded, knowing what he was talking about. "Do you think…do you think he will…be all right?"
Nodding, the man said gravely, "Draco is stronger than most of us, Natalia. I believe that this will only strengthen him even more." He peered closely at the girl to see if her mood was any less agitated. She did seem to be mildly appeased now, though she was still a bit upset, but nothing that couldn't be taken care of by some rest. He placed a kind hand on her shoulder as he said, "I shall go see Madame Pomfrey now about the matter with supper. Try to get some rest."
Nodding feebly, she slowly got into the bed, pulling the sheets up to her chin. Snape smiled quietly at her and brushed a strand of stray hair away from her face, silently leaving the infirmary.
Madame Pomfrey was very meticulously reorganizing her medicine cabinet from an alphabetical order to color code when she felt someone behind her, watching as she separated yellow remedies from blue ones. She turned around, startled as she saw a pair of black eyes bearing down bemusedly on her work. "Oh! Severus, goodness!" she exclaimed, placing a hand on her heart, "You quite gave me a fright there!"
The Potions Master cocked an eyebrow, muttering, "My apologies, Poppy." He eyed the blue potions critically and inquired, "May I ask why you are placing the Wart Shrinking Ointment next to the Cough Curing Syrup?"
The old witch laughed lightly, seemingly surprised that the professor did not understand her clearly rational logic. "Well, Severus, isn't it obvious? The syrup looks much better next to the ointment than it would the Skele-Gro."
The Potions Master frowned, staring at her as if she had broken out in green spots. "Right." He cleared his throat, steering the conversation back to what he had come for. "Poppy, I have come to request that you allow Natalia to have supper in the Great Hall."
The nurse looked at him, her spectacles nearly falling off, she was so appalled. "In the Great Hall? No, no, of course not. She has been assigned three more days of bed rest and she is not to leave the infirmary."
"You mean bed arrest," Snape hissed under his breath, "You and I know perfectly well that she has completely recovered, and it would do her much good to be able to get out of the place. She's been in there for three weeks!"
Madame Pomfrey glared at him, saying, "Since when have you been so concerned about a student's well being? And besides, her health can drop suddenly, one can never be too sure."
The man groaned, pressing on, "For Merlin's sake, Poppy! She was healed by a god! We are not speaking of second-rate Muggle medicine here!"
Wheeling around from her medicine, she retorted in a shrill voice, "I will not have you patronizing my practice, Severus. Don't you forget that I was the one who mended your broken tailbone after you fell off during that Quidditch game back in your fifth year."
He rolled his eyes, muttering bitterly, "Ah, yes, I remember. And you kept me from playing for a month so that I became the ridicule of the House when they lost the Cup to damned Gryffindor that year – due to the lack of a capable keeper."
The woman huffed contemptuously, mumbling, "You never were one to be thankful."
The Potions Master sighed in exasperation, saying, "Poppy, be reasonable."
"Oh, no, Severus," she said, wagging her finger, "Don't you take that tone with me. I am doing what is right, and nothing you can say will change my mind."
Snape glared at her, giving her a look that would have shriveled her up had she not been such a stubborn old crone. "Poppy, may I remind you that you owe me a favor?"
"Oh?" she challenged, raising her thin eyebrows to make a severe arch of her forehead, "And what, may that be?"
He glowered at her, growling out in a low voice, "I do not think that I will have to remind you of such things."
The old witch smirked and quirked an eyebrow up. "No, I don't remember, sorry. Humor me."
"No, I will do no such thing," he replied angrily, the daggers coming from his eyes.
Shrugging she replied nonchalantly, "All right. I shall send one of the house-elves up with her meal again."
Snape narrowed his eyes, the corner of his mouth twitching slightly. "In my third year," he breathed out dangerously.
Pomfrey gave him a look of mock realization, saying, "Well now, if I remember correctly, it had something to do with an Aging Potion?"
He bore down at her with his fierce glare, growling, "Yes. As I see that there is no need to elaborate on the matter, will you allow her to take supper in the Great Hall?"
The old woman laughed heartily, tears springing out of her eyes. "Oh, ho! I shall never forget the day when your hair went white – and the wrinkles! Oh, the wrinkles!"
"Poppy," Snape said dangerously, his eyes narrowing to angry little points.
"Oh, all right, all right. But you do realize that we'll be even after this?"
The Potions Master rolled his eyes, grumbling out, "Yes, well, I'm glad that I have entertained you for the day. Now if you will excuse me, I intend to tell Miss Slytherin about supper before my afternoon potions class with the dratted Hufflepuffs."
"Severus," Poppy called out after him as he was leaving, "Why did you ever stop playing Quidditch in your sixth year?"
The man turned sharply, scowling in an indignant way. "I had realized the pettiness of the sport and moved on to…better things."
"Oh, really?" the nurse pried, "And I had heard that it was a problem with James and Sirius…"
"What?" he raged, his eyebrows shooting up in irritation, "What about Potter and his damnable minions?"
"Oh…nothing. I had just heard from somewhere that James and Sirius had somehow taken part in your…removal of the team."
The professor closed in on Pomfrey, pointing a furious finger at her. "I was never removed. I don't know where you hear all this rubbish from." With that, he turned angrily on his heel and stalked out of her office, heading in a rage to the infirmary. In truth, he had been kicked off the team, and it had been the fault of James Potter and Sirius Black. However, the reasons behind Snape's removal lay deep in the crevices of his memory, unknown to anyone except for him, James Potter, Sirius Black, and Albus Dumbledore.
Snape entered the hospital wing in an angry huff, stopping quietly as he realized Natalia was asleep. His face softened a bit as he stood by her bedside, searching the nightstand for a spare parchment. He found a small piece of ripped parchment and one of his old quills next to a pile of books, all on elven history and magic. Smiling curiously, he opened the books, a soft light glowing from the first page. He closed it again and picked up the nub of a quill, dipping it in the last few flakes of crusted ink in the inkpot. Scratching a couple of quick sentences, he left the note by her bedside. At that moment, she turned groggily, opening her eyes at the sounds that were coming from next to her. "Oh, hello, professor," she said drowsily.
He jerked back at the sound of another's voice and turned his head, realizing that it was Natalia. "I apologize for waking you," he said quietly, "I was just writing a note to tell you that Madame Pomfrey is letting you take supper in the Great Hall tonight."
The girl beamed sleepily, her face lighting up at the prospect of being able to see her friends again. Her face fell again as she realized she was still in her hospital gown. "Um…professor? I don't look very decent for supper, do I?" she asked timidly.
Snape frowned, realizing that he should get her robes for her. He scowled inwardly as he realized that this meant he would have to get Potter in order to get through the password and into her chambers. Looking back up at the girl, he muttered, "I shall see to getting you some new robes. Meanwhile, rest until it is time for supper. I shall send someone to get you." He turned to leave, only to turn back around, remembering something as he reached the doorway. "Oh, and Natalia, would you do me a favor and tell Mr. Weasley that he and Potter's detentions have been changed to five days? It will spare me the pain of seeing their bursts of mirth."
Natalia grinned broadly as she nodded in agreement, watching the Potions Master leave the infirmary. She picked up the note that he had left her, reading it quickly. "Natalia," it read, "Madame Pomfrey has agreed after much protest to allow you to have supper in the Great Hall. I have also noticed that you are reading books on elven history. It is undeniably a fascinating and remarkable subject, one that I believe you should study further. I have an extensive library on the topic which I will gladly give you access to if you remind me. Professor Snape." She set the note down contentedly, making a mental note to ask the professor for the books that weekend.
Even the old hairs on Mrs. Norris' scraggly ears felt the excitement building up as the students prepared for the Championship Game on Friday. Children bustled about to and fro, cramming the doorway to the Great Hall as they rushed to see the houses that had made it into the finals. Many students groaned as they saw that their houses had not been chosen, most of them sulking off to breakfast. Pansy Parkinson stamped angrily down the hall, rushing to the Slytherin table to pout throughout the meal. Harry and Ron bumbled drowsily to the Hall, complaining that it was too early in the morning, but then perking up as they remembered that the names of the finalists had just been posted. "C'mon, Harry," Ron said, pulling his friend through the crowd as they tried to weasel their way to the front. The redhead had to jump about to look past the two tall Ravenclaw seventh-years that were hi-fiving themselves. Through fingers, locks of hair, and a nose, he saw the word, "ryffi – or". Frowning for a second, he finally realized what this meant, turned to Harry excitedly and shouted, "We got it, Harry, we got it!"
The black-haired boy grinned vaguely, blinking as he asked, "Really? Are you sure? Who're we playing against?"
Hopping on one foot again, Ron craned his head up, trying to see past the Ravenclaws. "You two are so silly," said a voice behind them, "From the manner of Roger and Terry, it's obvious that we're going to be playing against the Ravenclaws."
They turned around and saw Ginny standing near them with Hermione coming close behind. Harry's grin widened as he turned back to see a clear view of the post and saw that sure enough, they were going to play the Ravenclaws. "Yes!" Ron cried out, "Slytherins are trampled, once again!"
From a few feet away, Draco scowled deeply as he heard this. Crabbe moved quickly toward the Gryffindors, intending to give them a good beating. Draco held him back, hissing, "Don't be stupid, we'll show them how much they like trampling us when we're biting their heels." The Slytherins snickered menacingly, heading into the Hall for breakfast.
Children were talking all at once in an energized buzz at the Gryffindor table. Ron was directing a pep talk for the afternoon's game. "Ok, so we are going to have the same setup as before: Hermione and Lee, you two are the bishops. Ginny and Dean, you guys are the rooks. Fred and George, you're the knights again, and Harry, you're the queen."
All the other students snickered at hearing this, causing Harry to turn pink. "Hey, I wouldn't snigger at that if I were you," Ron said to his defense, "The queen's the most powerful piece."
Dying to change the topic, Harry asked, "What maneuver are we going to use?"
Thinking hard for a moment, Ron scratched his head. After considering different plays fervently, his face finally lit up as he gestured for Harry to come close, whispering the words, "Scholar's Mate" in his ear. Harry grinned at the genius of his friend, passing the information secretively to the other players.
Crabbe stood watch in front of the Ravenclaw dormitory as Draco and Goyle snuck inside, carrying out a treacherous plan that they had conceived during breakfast. Quietly, they snuck away again, sniggering maliciously to themselves as they headed down for their first class.
The Ravenclaws chess players met in the Common Room of their dormitory shortly after the second class of the morning in order to discuss the afternoon's game. Mandy Brocklehurst was just entering the room when she spied two dozens of delicious chocolate doughnuts sitting on the table, still hot from the oven. She turned around and told the others, informing them that a present had been left in the room. Cho Chang picked up the pretty floral card that came with the doughnuts, looking like a girl had made it. "Best of luck in your game today!" it read, a happy face smiling up at her after the exclamation point. She smiled and assuming that one of the younger Ravenclaws had left it for them, passed the plate around to the other players. Talking animatedly about the afternoon's game, they all ate the warm rich doughnuts happily, anticipating the activities to come.
The students were all in the Great Hall, enjoying the fried chicken drums that were laid out on the table when Harry turned to Hermione, asking, "Isn't odd that most of the older Ravenclaws aren't at lunch?"
The girl turned around, peering curiously at the other table. "That's right, they're not there. I suppose they've just shut themselves up in their dormitory planning for the game." She shrugged and got another helping of broccoli. "I wonder if Natalia's coming to watch the game."
Chewing a big chunk of chicken, Ron said, "I sure hope so. It's too bad that she couldn't play."
Both Harry and Hermione lifted skeptical eyebrows at him. "What? I do wish she could have played!"
"Right." they both said in unison.
At that moment, the door opened and in came a young Ravenclaw running hurriedly toward the Headmaster. "Professor Dumbledore!" she panted, "They've been shrunken!"
Dumbledore frowned in curiosity, asking, "Oh? And who might have the shrinking been done to?"
Catching a quick breath, she continued, "The chess players, they've been shrunken!"
Harry and Ron gawked curiously out the opened door, and sure enough, there were sixteen squeaking Ravenclaws the size of soda bottles talking sullenly amongst themselves. Ron choked in his pumpkin juice, liquid spewing out of his nose as he guffawed loudly, nearly killing himself laughing. "Oh…oh…Merlin's beard! That's too bad!"
Harry grinned next to him for it was a terribly funny sight, but eyed Cho Chang worriedly, hoping that they would be turned back to normal soon. Hermione looked at the two of them disapprovingly, shaking her head in disgust. "I sure hope the two of you wouldn't react that way if that ever happened to me."
Dumbledore saw the diminutive Ravenclaws also, and his eyes twinkled in amusement. He gestured kindly for them to come in, and so they did, in a neat single filed line. Smiling at the worried children, he said to them, "Now, don't worry a moment. I'm sure Madame Pomfrey will be able to fix this in no time."
Nodding in agreement, the old nurse left for the infirmary, only to come back minutes later reporting that she had no more Swelling Solutions left. "Very strange," she muttered to herself, "I can't recall any other student being shrunken and having a need for it lately."
Dumbledore frowned slightly and turned to Snape, asking him if he had any Swelling Solutions in his storage. The Potions Master rolled his eyes in irritation and got up to leave for the dungeons. From the Slytherin table, Crabbe and Goyle were struggling hard to suppress their laughter, their faces red from the effort. "Stop laughing!" Draco hissed as he jabbed his elbows into their sides, "You'll give us away!" Taking deep breaths, the boys managed to stop laughing, both very aware of the six bottles of Swelling Solution hidden under their robes.
Snape came back with a deep scowl on his face, pointing his finger accusingly at the Gryffindors. "My entire stock of Swelling Solutions are gone, and I reckon these," he turned a glaring eye at Harry and Ron, "Scoundrels thought it would be amusing to take out their competition." He narrowed his eyes and hissed out viciously, "But don't be so smug, Potter. If you don't play the Ravenclaws, you'll be playing the Slytherins instead."
Dumbledore stood up, gesturing to Snape. "Now, Severus, I doubt it would be fair of us to jump to any conclusions."
The Potions Professor rolled his eyes and muttered, "Ah, yes, the lawn gnomes came and drank it all because they were bitter and wanted to grow."
The Headmaster gave him a warning look and asked, "There is no replacement for the Swelling Solution?"
"No," Snape drawled out slowly, "And it will probably take me the entire afternoon to make another batch."
"I see," Dumbledore said slowly, stroking his beard and eyeing Crabbe and Goyle suspiciously. Roger Davies, who was looking anxiously at the Headmaster and Snape during their bickering, now spoke up, his voice coming in a small peep. "Are we still going to play, Professor Dumbledore?"
The old wizard looked down at the little Quidditch captain, smiling once again. "Well now, let's see here Roger. We cannot postpone the game to tomorrow because there is the Hogsmeade trip, and we cannot possibly do it on Sunday because I will be away for the day. Hm…" He squinted his eyes in thought, peering at a space in nothingness. "I know," he said suddenly, "We can have a game with the Slytherins playing today, as I can see that all the students are itching to watch some chess, and next weekend, the Ravenclaws may play the winner of today's game."
The minute little children looked at each other and nodded, consenting that it was a fair choice. Everyone in the Hall cheered, thrilled that there was going to be not only one game, but two, and one where Gryffindor was against Slytherin.
