All disclaimers are in place. Refer to the Prologue section for details.
PART SIX: ASSAULTShe had to break something. Destroy… anything.
She was pushing away the best friend she'd ever had, the only friend, for that matter. And the frustration that she may lose him over this made her itch to smash every chandelier, knock over every suit of armor, shred every painting in the castle until she faced expulsion from the school.
She felt like a time bomb.
And it was most definitely ticking, more and more loudly through her body as moments passed, feeling like whiplash seconds and dreaded ages simultaneously.
But she had to keep her cool. Her own Head of House had threatened her with consequences if she should take her temper out on school property again. She clenched her fists until her knuckles were white, and the only reason she wasn't drawing blood from her palms was because her nails had been bitten to the quick by the end of Transfiguration that afternoon.
Tick, tock…Damn him! Untainted hostility.
Her room yielded to a thorough beating instead. This was no time to commend herself on just how long she'd been able to go without releasing her anger upon the world. When her tantrum had ceased and her Reparo charm was exhausted, she fell face-down on the bed and screamed into a pillow.
Around the bedroom, every object rattled precariously on its perch, many threatening to take a nosedive to the floor. But her screams subsided when she realized just what she was doing.
She wiped away tears that had shamefully scurried down past her chin.
I can't do this to myself, I just can't…But she knew she had to. One way or another.
It was as simple as this: to choose either to hide this curse by way of strict adherence to solitude, or to let the secret out and have everyone running for cover. Either way, she wasn't winning any points for popularity.
She stared loathingly at the disguised book that had been tossed onto a pile of robes on the floor. I'm probably going to regret this.
She picked it up, flopped it open on the bed and stared at the first page.
"This had better be worth it," she said out loud.
The pages of the transfigured journal, though bound in aged leather now, were still scribbled in Snape's painstakingly slanted script.
Halo closed her eyes and pondered, finding no practical conclusion. Eyes still closed and brow furrowed, she spoke to… absolutely nobody. "Why would a man who cares nothing for anyone, let alone me, take the time to write all this for my supposed benefit?"
Her face froze in with further contemplation, but when no self-enlightenment came, she shook herself free of the sticky thought and read the page.
A bit of background, and might I remind you, this first page is dedicated for the sole purpose of having you differentiate between popular fiction and truth.
A Siren, once developed, has the power to… influence a man's mind. Other females are oblivious to it. In history… and might I remind you that this is the popular history, WHICH MEANS THAT IT IS not to be believed, a Siren frequently turned a male to her favor, much to the dismay of her new interest's female partner, that is assuming he had one. I must interject that there are very few men who can resist a Siren's polished voice; this at least is true. She would then pull a "black widow" on him and drain his life energy.
This ends all fictional aspects of the information you require.
"Well that's a relief." The words emphasized in all capital letters provided some clarity, and definitely some comfort. "So I'm not a killer. But then what am I?" She realized she was still talking to herself, shook her head and continued down the page.
"Now, for the part which you should believe, and it's true because I'm telling you it is. Sirens are not soul-sucking Dementors. They are not promiscuous and they do no steal other women's partners. And moreover, they do not kill their prey when they are finished. Sirens simply have an effect on men which can only be described as an invocation of his undesired reality… her resonance forces certain thoughts to surface. One's voice can force a man against his will to come to terms with a thought or action which he has passed off as "unavoidable," that he has convinced himself of his innocence, and then she forces him to realize his morality. This emotionally brutal self-realization can often drive a man mad. And this, in all its simplicity and brilliance, is why men fear Sirens. And in the patriarchic history of truth, women are influenced by men to fear them as well, which is why in the present time, almost every person in the wizarding world who is aware of the existence of Sirens fears them."
And fear is what will keep you from revealing yourself, if you're as intelligent as you have proven to be in the past.
A flat compliment?
He must have skipped a vital dose of his cruelty potion when he wrote that.
The page flashed suddenly, and new words sprouted from the seams, curling past the corners and flowing onto the next, empty page.
He must plan to write this as he goes along… She snorted. I suppose it is rather comforting that he knows about as much about this as I do. Perhaps the man isn't as high and mighty as he seems to think.
A horizontal note scribbled more vicariously along the edge of the second page caught her eye. 10:00 in my classroom. Don't be late.
Halo sighed in irritation. "Either he's aware of every time I open the damned thing or he just expects that I'm following his instructions to read the damned thing. Now why on earth would I want to do that?" The last statement dripped with sarcasm.
She slammed the book shut. Glancing toward the sundial on her windowsill, she saw that she had missed dinner, and that she was due in the Potions classroom in an hour.
A double thump at the door made her swing her head around so hard she almost lost her balance. "Coming," she called and stashed the book underneath her mattress. She cranked the handle on her door and pulled it open.
Standing rather purposefully in the doorway was Oliver Wood, looking both timid and determined, and carrying a tray laden with food from dinner in the Great Hall.
Before she could shoo him away he had stepped just inside her room, holding out the tray for her to take. "Here. I didn't come to make you tell me anything. I just don't want you to starve in your efforts to avoid me."
Halo took the tray, and offered him a thankful half-smile, for it was all she could afford. "I'm not trying to avoid you… I just have a lot to think about."
"I understand. I'm headed to meet the team for a late Quidditch practice, but other than that, I'll be around when you need me." He retreated through the open door. 'When,' he thought, Not 'if.'
"Thank you. You are truly a good friend."
He nodded and pulled the door closed, leaving Halo standing with the tray in her arms. The scents crawling out from underneath the cover over the plate reminded Halo just how hungry she was. She took the tray to her desk and wolfed down everything but the plate and utensils.
Luna flapped through the open window and chittered indignantly when the blue owl saw that no scraps had been left for her.
"Sorry girl, I forgot." Halo fished an owl treat from her desk drawer and offered it to the ruffled pet, but Luna turned up her beak.
"Have it your way." Halo dropped the treat into Luna's food tray and noticed with triumph that the annoyed owl waited a moment before scurrying over to the dish and retrieving the treat.
Halo sighed loudly and flopped onto her bed again. She clasped both hands around her stomach and groaned, "Ugh… I ate too fast." She began to feel slightly nauseated, but at the same time stupidly sleepy from the overabundance of nourishment in her system. She allowed herself to lie there for a good forty minutes, digesting, and absentmindedly counting the square stones on the ceiling. There were four hundred ninety-seven, she knew this already from the previous years sitting alone in her room, but it was a serene pastime nonetheless.
Luna sprang from her perch, obviously finished with her nap, and floated out the window and into the night sky, probably off to the Dark Forest in search of a fresh catch for supper. The noise the owl made upon takeoff had startled Halo to proper wakefulness, and she sat up, rubbing her face. Groaning at her inevitable destination, she rose to her feet and forced herself out the door.
Snape was behind his desk, quite engrossed in his red-inked quill and student papers when she arrived.
Halo took a seat behind the front student desk and waited, considerably patiently, for him to conclude whatever it was she could guess he was doing. He made no move to convey to her that he knew she was there until he finished the last scroll.
"Lesson number one: what I say, goes." Snape hadn't yet made eye contact, but he was pushing the bundle of papers aside and closing the recording book on his desk. A fine puff of dust emitted from the volume as its heavy front cover closed with a thud.
"Lesson number two," Snape swept down from his elevation to seat himself across from her, emanating a dangerously intense aura. He folded his arms over the desk and leaned on his elbows, looking her straight in the eye. "If you put it upon yourself to violate the first rule in any way, you'll wish you'd never met me."
Halo raised an eyebrow in a sort of acknowledgement. Is that a promise? she thought, challenging him.
Snape seemed to have heard that silent release, for he looked ready to fry some unsuspecting First Year in boiling oil. Or his head might explode, either event suited him. Unfortunately for him and very fortunate for her, he had not actually heard the antagonistic and purely mental remark and could do nothing to make her ashamed of it. He forced himself to return to his usual bitter but non-hostile state.
"Now, let me explain what you will be doing to build your skills over the coming months. As I mentioned in your earlier reading…"
He droned on, covering in repetitive detail what she had read from his journal, and behaving as though he didn't trust her to read it thoroughly enough.
Halo couldn't stop herself from interrupting him.
"Everyone would be afraid of me. I know, I know. You wrote it in that book of yours."
Snape glared at her, his black eyes were venomous. "If I might be permitted to finish, Miss Mandelor," he spoke through gritted teeth, "or have you decided that listening to me is above you? Let me assure you, I'd rather those Muggles you live with had to deal with your less-than-willing mind." Apparently, the man had the potential to become even more livid.
Halo snorted. "The feeling is mutual." Oh, she would regret that one. The words came out before she could stop herself. But as usual, she wouldn't dare show it.
Snape's glare turned murderous. He drew his wand and pointed it at her… didn't he? Electrifying white sparks flew within inches of her left shoulder to the door, and a ward spread itself into every corner of the room. Halo visibly shook. She knew he had it in him to take her down, but she just hadn't pushed him this far before. Merlin knew he was capable of unspeakable things.
"How dare you speak to me in that tone!" he growled with the ferocity of a rabid wolf. "After all I have done for you! And you once again deny me the respect of which you should be showing an abundance!" He twirled from his seat and swept to the dark stained glass window again behind his desk. He kept his back to her.
What, no intimidation? No further blistering remark about how much of a disappointment she was? Wow, she thought. I must really have hit the right nerve. Her shaking subsided. Apparently she'd had a better effect on him than she'd first thought.
He was aware that she had left her seat and come to stand a few feet away, but she had made no sound. When he didn't speak for several minutes, Halo took the initiative. "I… don't suppose my apology would rectify the situation."
"It is not your apology I am looking for." His voice was so low, it was almost a whisper. He turned halfway around, but would not look at her, instead he let his eyes focus somewhere past her face. "You owe me the same unconditional respect you show for any other professor of this school. As I understand it, you would not behave this badly for Mr. and Mrs. DeMornay."
The reference to the couple who cared for Halo during the summer holidays sent a tingle up her spine, making her stiffen. She hoped he wouldn't begin comparing himself to them. To steer him off that track, he required a brutally honest account, a comparison from her own perspective.
"That's because they do not criticize, harass or belittle me. They accept me for who I am, and all the problems that come with who I am. They don't try to change me. They don't force anything on me. They don't drill things into my head more than once, because they know I'll ask questions if I don't understand. But most importantly, at least the way I see it, they respect me. You don't. And no respect is unconditional."
The child has a point… the child… "You cannot expect me to respect a child," he challenged her.
"Then how am I ever to respect you? Or even like you, which apparently I'm supposed to, out of obligation!"
"I never once implied that I expect you to like me. And even if there was a mutual pleasantness between us, you know full well I cannot treat you preferentially."
"That's in public! What about now, when no one is around? You yourself locked the door!" Halo's voice reached a shrill note that brought Snape's eyes to rest upon her face. She mirrored the same spirit, that same defiant spirit he had found within himself at her age. Only his young spirit had driven him to the Dark Lord.
The head of Slytherin House realized just how much control was slipping from his fingers. "You will learn your place!" He swooped down on her and took her by the upper arms. "I will not have you placing yourself in danger by questioning those above you." He shook her firmly on the word 'not.'
Halo pulled back, terrified. Her stomach churned violently at the panicked horror of his grasp and her face waved fear like a banner. Snape held on tight.
Gods, I seem to have finally reached her, he realized when he saw the intense terror in her eyes. "It's time you learned to value the opportunities presented to you before your lack of gratitude brings you to great harm."
Halo ceased struggling away from his grip, but her anger had mounted. She was cunning, that one. Snape gave her a fair look of warning and released his grip, unaware of her impending attack.
She backed away slowly, the anger and hatred bubbling to the surface, replacing the look of horror with barely controlled fury. He set me free, and I'm going to let him know it.
Snape was aware of her sudden change in demeanor, and while he felt defeated by his latest effort to get control of the girl, he wasn't surprised at the failed attempt.
"I am not a hostage to be controlled!"
"You are still a child, one who knows nothing of the dangers of the wizarding world! If you cannot learn to heed my instructions…"
Halo cut him off. "That's just it! Whether or not I am safe has nothing to do with your control over me!"
"That has everything to do with it! There are Dementors guarding every exit to this school. Your lack of control over yourself will lead any one of them to take your life without a second thought!" Snape roared.
"You just don't get it, do you? I can control myself just fine! It's you who drives me to do what I do. You and your unwillingness to see that I don't want to be you!"
Her words hit Snape like a poisoned arrow. His last resolve conjured the only words he could think of. "You will do as I say, or I will have you expelled!"
Halo matched his furious glare. "Why are you so afraid of me? Stop acting like my jailor. Let me live!" Pure challenging fury.
Snape's eyes narrowed in bitterness. His voice was subdued and deadly. "Your style of 'living' has made me ashamed to be your father."
That did it. With one deep breath, Halo opened her mouth and Snape went flying backward into the stained glass window, which shattered on impact. The shrill sound was short, incredibly loud and precisely focused.
It took Halo a few seconds of silence to realize that nothing else in the room had been broken.