Chapter Six
Suspicions and Solitude
Harry, Ron, and Hermione, the inseparable trio, sat in the great hall during lunch; Harry was talking to them in a hushed voice about things he had kept forgetting to bring up. "I didn't tell you guys yet, but, during summer vacation, this little-creature-found it's way in to my bedroom. It called itself a um, a house elf. It kept saying I shouldn't go to Hogwarts and hitting itself."
"Hitting itself?"
"Not come back to Hogwarts!?" Ron exclaimed, a little too loudly, half of the Gryffindor table turned their heads in his direction; he blushed, and quieted his voice. "That's ridiculous, Harry."
"I don't know . . ." Hermione bit her lip, "You DO have a powerful enemy, Harry."
Harry waved her concern away, but Ron suddenly said something, "You know that bookstore, where the Malfoys were?"
"Flourish and Blotts, yeah . . .?"
"Ginny was acting strange. We met Malfoy's dad outside you know, before he went in to get his son. He made my dad real angry," Ron said bitterly, "Looking down his nose at us and everything. And then he picked up Ginny's books and was all like, 'Second hand books, huh?'" Ron did a bad job of imitating Lucius Malfoy.
"Yeah," Harry nodded, "I was there but, so what?"
"Malfoys are all JERKS!"
"Well . . . yeah, but so what else is new?" Harry asked.
"I mean," Ron sighed, "Maybe he's in league with You-Know-Who."
"Voldemort?"
"Don't SAY that!"
Harry just shrugged.
*
Snape sat in his office, fuming as he went over test papers (which meant he gave out even more F's then normal) where did Rinoa get the right to humiliate him in front of his students like that? She was completely irreverent and back talking, just like she had been when they were students, but now it was even MORE annoying since he had to work with her and not tell her off.
He shook his head, she was exactly as he had remembered her, not just in appearance, which had been the initial shock when she bounded into his office on the first day, but her attitude was as immature and childish as ever too. He scowled, she made him furious, and more because he owed her a favour then even because she got under his skin. Or maybe that was part of the reason why she made him so upset. But he hated thinking back to the days when they were in school and pushed those thoughts from his mind. The Professor stood up angrily and shook his long black hair, beginning to pace his office in great displeasure.
She wasn't even cut out to be a teacher! She was all buddy-buddy with her students, it wasn't dignified! And the other day when he'd come into her classroom Hermione Granger was leading the lesson and Rinoa was in a student's desk taking notes! It was a farce! She showered her students with praises and even put annoying smiley face stickers on their tests and assignments! He wondered why in the name of Merlin Dumbledore had hired her when HE was more than qualified for the Defence Against the Dark Arts position! Was it that Dumbledore didn't trust him with a job where he would be so exposed to Dark powers? Did he still think he . . . no, Severus shook his head, a chill shook him, he hated the past, he hated remembering.
*
Hermione lay in her bed late that night, she was tired but she couldn't sleep, she'd seemed to be having that problem quite a lot, lately. She sighed, and rolled over, watching the pale moonlight dance on the stone wall of the castle. She felt a wave of depression slide over her.
It was true that she had book smarts LOTS of book smarts, the top marks in the school proved that! And teachers like Professor McGonagall, Professor Sprout, Professor Flitwick and now Professor Heartilly never stopped telling her how great she was, how remarkable, what an exemplary student, what a brilliant girl . . . but something inside was bothering her. Her parents, as great as they were, as loving and nurturing, were muggles. Muggles, non magic using people who were as out of place in the wizarding world as Draco Malfoy would be in a charity group. It had been embarrassing having them in Diagon Alley, picking out supplies with her, looking pale and frightened of the magical folks.
She'd also learned a new word; "Mudblood" a person with "dirty blood," in other words not a "pure" witch of wizard. Someone with muggle parents, someone like her. She had spent the first ten years of her life as muggle and no matter how much she studied it would never change that. Did that mean she could never be a "true" witch, that no matter how much she tried she'd never really belong in the wizarding world?
Hermione had decided when she first learned she was a witch that she would learn everything she could faster than anyone else, that she would show everyone what a witch she could be! But Harry and Ron were her only friends, and she heard the way other kids talked about her, calling her a prissy know-it-all and a teacher's pet. She felt tears stinging her eyes, and here she was, set on being a wizard but having stupid muggle thoughts like, "I wonder if my mom bought that new car she wanted, I wonder if Dad fixed the TV himself or finally took it to the shop?"
"Maybe I should just go home." She whimpered, burying her face in her pillow, "But I love it here, I want to belong here, I never belonged at my old school either, I'm always the outcast! I'm not a muggle and I'm not a witch-and-and that makes me nothing at all!!" The tears fell, she always cried at night, never when Ron or Harry could see they were her only friends, she couldn't lose them, she cried and cried and cried.
*
Draco Malfoy sat by the fire in the Slytherin Common Room, true it was long past lights-out, but even the Slytherin Prefect didn't have the courage to argue with a Malfoy. He smirked at the thought, but kept his eyes on the fire. He enjoyed making members of his House squirm uncomfortably, knowing they feared the wrath of his father. That would one day be him. He would finally be the one to have the power.
He sighed, it was getting late but he never lay down until he was sure he was tired enough to fall asleep the second his head hit the pillows. There was something about lying there in the dark he hated, (he didn't 'fear' it because Malfoys never 'feared' anything!) it felt like he was dead and alone in a dark grave but still possessed consciousness. Does conscience exist after death? He shuddered inwardly at the thought, forcing his mind back to the dancing flames.
No, the worst thing about the darkness was anything; anyone could be lurking there, ready to attack. Like . . . no, he wasn't going to think about that. He wouldn't think about his own home, his own bedroom which was always dark and resentful to him. His "family" if you could call it that. His mother, who spent the long hours of the day sitting in her chair reading book after book, or sometimes just staring at a page for hours and not turning it, or else gazing off into space. She hardly talked anymore, she never sang to him anymore. She'd grown quieter as he grew older, and she was no longer able to protect him from his father. She always looked sad.
And his father, his father, now Draco did shudder, his father made the entire house cringe when he walked in the door, the servants, the guests, his mother . . . he "took care of them" if that meant providing them with a castle to live in, the best clothes in the world, and any other material things they needed, as long as they were careful not to offend the family name, as long as they lived up to his expectations.
What was he doing now, thinking? Hadn't he just told himself not to!? He should go to bed now, but he was tired and lay there by the fireplace all night, to tired to move, and eventually falling into some sort of sleep.
*
Rinoa lay sprawled across several chairs in the teacher's lounge, she'd been marking papers all night and she was exhausted and bored and she hadn't finished half of them. Hell, she wasn't a teacher. She'd never wanted to be a teacher, and she knew she wasn't cut out for the job. Quistis, now she was a teacher, she had always aspired to be one, and with the top marks in Hogwarts she had a job immediately after graduating, she didn't even half to go to Witch University. But she'd only worked for one year, and then she'd gotten married and despite all her talk about going back to work after the baby was born she never had. Maybe because she'd married a complete jerk. Rinoa didn't know, she couldn't understand, and she hadn't seen Quistis for about ten years. Her baby had been two then. He was twelve or so now. When would she see Quistis again? The others missed her two.
Rinoa rolled over, this was depressing, and she decided to send an owl to her husband.
Dear Squall,
How is everything at Balamb School for Witchcraft and Wizardry? Are you still planning on coming up here for the Quidditch tournament? Selphie and Irvine's daughters are here, I have them in my first year class. They're nice girls and remind me of when we were young. Hogwarts is just like we remember it, still loads of fun even though teaching's hard. Severus is just like always as far as I know, but I never really knew him. I'm sure the two of you will get along fine if you come to visit, though.
Dumbledore's still a great guy. McGonagall's as strict but nice as ever. Remember when we were kids she was a new teacher? Times change, huh? Oh, and Peeves is still a pain.
"I am NOT!" A rather annoyed voice said over her shoulder, Rinoa tilted her head back to see the unpopular Poltergeist hovering in the air behind her.
"Oh yeah, remember the time Selphie, and me got drunk, and were trying to sneak back into the school at one in the morning and you yelled for Flich at the top of your lungs?! I still haven't forgiven you for that! We were almost expelled, except that Lily and Quistis were still up and found us before Filch did, with James' invisibility cloak!"
"It was for your own good." Peeves said, looking completely insincere.
"Oh, buzz off!" She giggled, waving a hand at him. And went back to writing her letter.
Anyway, Squall, I have Quistis' son in one of my classes, he seems to be doing okay, he looks like his mother but unfortunately he seems to have his dad's personality. Quistis married such a jerk; I know it's not my business, but really! I just hope he treats his son okay, you remember him from our visit when he was only two years old, don't you? Draco Malfoy.
Lots of Love,
Rinoa.
Harry, Ron, and Hermione, the inseparable trio, sat in the great hall during lunch; Harry was talking to them in a hushed voice about things he had kept forgetting to bring up. "I didn't tell you guys yet, but, during summer vacation, this little-creature-found it's way in to my bedroom. It called itself a um, a house elf. It kept saying I shouldn't go to Hogwarts and hitting itself."
"Hitting itself?"
"Not come back to Hogwarts!?" Ron exclaimed, a little too loudly, half of the Gryffindor table turned their heads in his direction; he blushed, and quieted his voice. "That's ridiculous, Harry."
"I don't know . . ." Hermione bit her lip, "You DO have a powerful enemy, Harry."
Harry waved her concern away, but Ron suddenly said something, "You know that bookstore, where the Malfoys were?"
"Flourish and Blotts, yeah . . .?"
"Ginny was acting strange. We met Malfoy's dad outside you know, before he went in to get his son. He made my dad real angry," Ron said bitterly, "Looking down his nose at us and everything. And then he picked up Ginny's books and was all like, 'Second hand books, huh?'" Ron did a bad job of imitating Lucius Malfoy.
"Yeah," Harry nodded, "I was there but, so what?"
"Malfoys are all JERKS!"
"Well . . . yeah, but so what else is new?" Harry asked.
"I mean," Ron sighed, "Maybe he's in league with You-Know-Who."
"Voldemort?"
"Don't SAY that!"
Harry just shrugged.
*
Snape sat in his office, fuming as he went over test papers (which meant he gave out even more F's then normal) where did Rinoa get the right to humiliate him in front of his students like that? She was completely irreverent and back talking, just like she had been when they were students, but now it was even MORE annoying since he had to work with her and not tell her off.
He shook his head, she was exactly as he had remembered her, not just in appearance, which had been the initial shock when she bounded into his office on the first day, but her attitude was as immature and childish as ever too. He scowled, she made him furious, and more because he owed her a favour then even because she got under his skin. Or maybe that was part of the reason why she made him so upset. But he hated thinking back to the days when they were in school and pushed those thoughts from his mind. The Professor stood up angrily and shook his long black hair, beginning to pace his office in great displeasure.
She wasn't even cut out to be a teacher! She was all buddy-buddy with her students, it wasn't dignified! And the other day when he'd come into her classroom Hermione Granger was leading the lesson and Rinoa was in a student's desk taking notes! It was a farce! She showered her students with praises and even put annoying smiley face stickers on their tests and assignments! He wondered why in the name of Merlin Dumbledore had hired her when HE was more than qualified for the Defence Against the Dark Arts position! Was it that Dumbledore didn't trust him with a job where he would be so exposed to Dark powers? Did he still think he . . . no, Severus shook his head, a chill shook him, he hated the past, he hated remembering.
*
Hermione lay in her bed late that night, she was tired but she couldn't sleep, she'd seemed to be having that problem quite a lot, lately. She sighed, and rolled over, watching the pale moonlight dance on the stone wall of the castle. She felt a wave of depression slide over her.
It was true that she had book smarts LOTS of book smarts, the top marks in the school proved that! And teachers like Professor McGonagall, Professor Sprout, Professor Flitwick and now Professor Heartilly never stopped telling her how great she was, how remarkable, what an exemplary student, what a brilliant girl . . . but something inside was bothering her. Her parents, as great as they were, as loving and nurturing, were muggles. Muggles, non magic using people who were as out of place in the wizarding world as Draco Malfoy would be in a charity group. It had been embarrassing having them in Diagon Alley, picking out supplies with her, looking pale and frightened of the magical folks.
She'd also learned a new word; "Mudblood" a person with "dirty blood," in other words not a "pure" witch of wizard. Someone with muggle parents, someone like her. She had spent the first ten years of her life as muggle and no matter how much she studied it would never change that. Did that mean she could never be a "true" witch, that no matter how much she tried she'd never really belong in the wizarding world?
Hermione had decided when she first learned she was a witch that she would learn everything she could faster than anyone else, that she would show everyone what a witch she could be! But Harry and Ron were her only friends, and she heard the way other kids talked about her, calling her a prissy know-it-all and a teacher's pet. She felt tears stinging her eyes, and here she was, set on being a wizard but having stupid muggle thoughts like, "I wonder if my mom bought that new car she wanted, I wonder if Dad fixed the TV himself or finally took it to the shop?"
"Maybe I should just go home." She whimpered, burying her face in her pillow, "But I love it here, I want to belong here, I never belonged at my old school either, I'm always the outcast! I'm not a muggle and I'm not a witch-and-and that makes me nothing at all!!" The tears fell, she always cried at night, never when Ron or Harry could see they were her only friends, she couldn't lose them, she cried and cried and cried.
*
Draco Malfoy sat by the fire in the Slytherin Common Room, true it was long past lights-out, but even the Slytherin Prefect didn't have the courage to argue with a Malfoy. He smirked at the thought, but kept his eyes on the fire. He enjoyed making members of his House squirm uncomfortably, knowing they feared the wrath of his father. That would one day be him. He would finally be the one to have the power.
He sighed, it was getting late but he never lay down until he was sure he was tired enough to fall asleep the second his head hit the pillows. There was something about lying there in the dark he hated, (he didn't 'fear' it because Malfoys never 'feared' anything!) it felt like he was dead and alone in a dark grave but still possessed consciousness. Does conscience exist after death? He shuddered inwardly at the thought, forcing his mind back to the dancing flames.
No, the worst thing about the darkness was anything; anyone could be lurking there, ready to attack. Like . . . no, he wasn't going to think about that. He wouldn't think about his own home, his own bedroom which was always dark and resentful to him. His "family" if you could call it that. His mother, who spent the long hours of the day sitting in her chair reading book after book, or sometimes just staring at a page for hours and not turning it, or else gazing off into space. She hardly talked anymore, she never sang to him anymore. She'd grown quieter as he grew older, and she was no longer able to protect him from his father. She always looked sad.
And his father, his father, now Draco did shudder, his father made the entire house cringe when he walked in the door, the servants, the guests, his mother . . . he "took care of them" if that meant providing them with a castle to live in, the best clothes in the world, and any other material things they needed, as long as they were careful not to offend the family name, as long as they lived up to his expectations.
What was he doing now, thinking? Hadn't he just told himself not to!? He should go to bed now, but he was tired and lay there by the fireplace all night, to tired to move, and eventually falling into some sort of sleep.
*
Rinoa lay sprawled across several chairs in the teacher's lounge, she'd been marking papers all night and she was exhausted and bored and she hadn't finished half of them. Hell, she wasn't a teacher. She'd never wanted to be a teacher, and she knew she wasn't cut out for the job. Quistis, now she was a teacher, she had always aspired to be one, and with the top marks in Hogwarts she had a job immediately after graduating, she didn't even half to go to Witch University. But she'd only worked for one year, and then she'd gotten married and despite all her talk about going back to work after the baby was born she never had. Maybe because she'd married a complete jerk. Rinoa didn't know, she couldn't understand, and she hadn't seen Quistis for about ten years. Her baby had been two then. He was twelve or so now. When would she see Quistis again? The others missed her two.
Rinoa rolled over, this was depressing, and she decided to send an owl to her husband.
Dear Squall,
How is everything at Balamb School for Witchcraft and Wizardry? Are you still planning on coming up here for the Quidditch tournament? Selphie and Irvine's daughters are here, I have them in my first year class. They're nice girls and remind me of when we were young. Hogwarts is just like we remember it, still loads of fun even though teaching's hard. Severus is just like always as far as I know, but I never really knew him. I'm sure the two of you will get along fine if you come to visit, though.
Dumbledore's still a great guy. McGonagall's as strict but nice as ever. Remember when we were kids she was a new teacher? Times change, huh? Oh, and Peeves is still a pain.
"I am NOT!" A rather annoyed voice said over her shoulder, Rinoa tilted her head back to see the unpopular Poltergeist hovering in the air behind her.
"Oh yeah, remember the time Selphie, and me got drunk, and were trying to sneak back into the school at one in the morning and you yelled for Flich at the top of your lungs?! I still haven't forgiven you for that! We were almost expelled, except that Lily and Quistis were still up and found us before Filch did, with James' invisibility cloak!"
"It was for your own good." Peeves said, looking completely insincere.
"Oh, buzz off!" She giggled, waving a hand at him. And went back to writing her letter.
Anyway, Squall, I have Quistis' son in one of my classes, he seems to be doing okay, he looks like his mother but unfortunately he seems to have his dad's personality. Quistis married such a jerk; I know it's not my business, but really! I just hope he treats his son okay, you remember him from our visit when he was only two years old, don't you? Draco Malfoy.
Lots of Love,
Rinoa.