Chapter Ten:
His voice echoed around the cavernous room, his anger and incomprehension filling every dark crevice. Eleanora flinched as he turned around to face her, his eyes blazing with a strange mixture of hatred and what looked like fear. His mouth was clenched in a grim line, his lips pale and bloodless, and his hands were tightened into fists at his sides, as if itching to wrap themselves around his wand and curse her for her contravention.
She licked her lips nervously, her own eyes cautiously surveying the livid man before her. A familiar voice insider her head wearily berated her for her foolishness. She'd only been her a day and yet was most likely to get sent back to Fudge in disgrace before lunch time. "Way to go, Nora," she mentally congratulated herself, her bitterness manifesting itself in an exaggerated rolling of her chocolate brown eyes.
"You find this amusing, Miss D'Souza?" shot the professor's voice, its frozen tones exhibiting no attempt to disguise the antipathy with which he now regarded her. One eyebrow hitched half way up his pallid forehead, as he stared at her vituperatively. She took a deep breath of the stale dungeon air before warily articulating her response.
"No, I don't find it amusing in the slightest, Professor. What I do find amusing, however, is the fact that I have been here only a day and already have managed to convince you that I am evil made flesh." She smiled penitently. "That's got to be some sort of record, even for me."
He opened his mouth, no doubt to make a cuttingly acerbic reply, but was interrupted by the slamming of the door against the cold stone wall, revealing the grave figure of the Headmaster to be stood there, his wizened face creased with concern. Snape whipped around to address the headmaster.
"Albus, were you aware that this girl could perform dangerously advanced wandless magic?" His voice was laced with danger, and reverberated with an underlying anger, though jutted in the presence of Dumbledore.
The old wizard sighed wearily, and passed a hand over his eyes. Eleanora regarded him with an apologetic look; guilty at having flaunted her godfathers carefully elucidated rules.
"Godather, I didn't mean to use it. The cauldrons were going to fall on him, I just acted instinctively!" Met by Snape's hateful frown, she continued,
"Of course, if I'd known you would have acted like this, I would have let them crack you over the head." She glared at him, her nostrils flaring in fury in the chilled air, her eyes radiating ferocity at the austere man whom she had, she thought, so erroneously saved.
Their glaring match across the scarred wooden work bench was abruptly ended by Dumbledore's quiet request,
"Severus, please explain what is the causes of your obvious discontent."
"Headmaster," he began, flipping back a veil of ink black hair from his eyes. "Miss D'Souza inadvertently, no doubt, displayed a suspiciously advanced aptitude for wandless magic in an attempt to prevent a fall of cauldrons." He indicated with a slim hand to the cauldrons that littered the stone floor, and turned his gaze back on Eleanora, though continued to address Dumbledore.
"Were you aware of this, Albus?" he asked pointedly.
"Yes, Severus, I was aware of Eleanora's powers," the older wizard replied simply. "I had intended on granting the girl some normality until the time came for it to be revealed, but it seems that time has come sooner than I had anticipated."
Snape's already severe face hardened even more at the words of the headmaster.
"You mean to tell me that you knew of this yet did not think to inform me? This girl has displayed powers, the like of which are practically never seen, let alone in one so young, and you neglect to tell me?" The stony faced professor was practically roaring with rage, his hands raised above his head in the furious abandonment of his harangue. Eleanora stared with barely disguised fascination at the incensed professor, his usually cold, impassive facade blown away by the tumultuous and passionate force of his wrath. His obviously fiery temper was remarkably like her own, she mused, quick to rise and startling in its intensity, though she doubted whether his would be as swift to fade away to barely remembered annoyance.
Dumbledore's voice was calm and steady, his placatory tones doing little though to appease the potions master who now viably bristled with silent fury.
"Severus, please be reasonable. I did not keep this information from you in spite, merely in order to preserve Eleanora's security here for the meantime at least. At present, you are the only staff member other than myself to know this and I would appreciate it if it could be kept that way for as long as possible."
Eleanora, who had been silent throughout the angry tirades and calm entreaties, now spoke up, her melodic voice small and hesitant compared to the sonorous tones of the two men.
"Professor Snape, I apologise if I alarmed you. That was not my intention. Godfather, I'm sorry to have let you down. It won't happen again." She dropped her gaze, awaiting what would no doubt be a heated retort.
Dumbledore however smiled gently at her, lifting her chin in his cupped hand to meet her eyes. He looked earnestly at her, his own blue eyes a reflection of her own dark ones, grave yet gentle.
"My dear girl, you have not let me down. You have merely shown what I have known you to have all along; a brave spirit, not to mention a certain disregard for the rules." He winked at her, and turned to face the silent potions master at his side.
"Severus, you will know the whole story," he began, turning to his goddaughter. "With your permission, of course?"
"Of course," Eleanora replied quietly, not daring to look at the professor for fear of the scorn his gaze might hold. She took a step back and perched upon one of the desks, needlessly absorbing herself in the arrangement of her robes neatly over her crossed legs.
"Eleanora is, as you know Severus, the daughter of Aloysius D'Souza. She has come to Hogwarts partly for her own protection, as she has in the past and undoubtedly will be in the future the victim of several thankfully unsuccessful assassination and kidnap plots." The old wizard cleared his throat and looked contemplatively at the young woman, now staring impassively at the floor.
"However, Eleanora is also at Hogwarts for a much greater and as yet, confidential purpose. You have already seen the extent of her powers with regards to wandless magic and she has exhibited an extraordinary talent for Transfiguration and Defence Against the Dark Arts, which the Ministry and her father feel will be best nurtured here at Hogwarts. It is expected that after graduation Eleanora will be initiated into the Order of the Phoenix and begin her training as an Unspeakable."
Dumbledore paused, gauging the potion masters reaction, aware that Eleanora was doing the same, albeit from under a curtain of tousled hair which hid her curious face from the searching eyes of the professor she so warily studied.
Severus' brows knitted together in a deep frown, a map of faint lines appearing upon his forehead, etching his meditation on his abstemious face. His eyes flicked over the girl innocuously sat upon the desk, now biting her bottom lip in uncertainty, still not meeting his eye.
Of course, he thought to himself, he should have realised it before now. He should have been on his guard from the instant he saw her, revealed from the swirling miasma of ridiculous lilac smoke in Dumbledore's office the previous day. Her words, "I meant to apparate just outside your door – I was a couple of yards off obviously!" had resounded around his head as he had left the cluttered office, inexplicably sickened somewhat by the sight of their happy reunion. The very fact that she had been able to apparate into the school at all should have triggered the tolling of warning bells in his head, he thought irritably, angry at himself for allowing this girl to bewilder him with her little display. However, much as would like to dismiss her as a precocious show-off he knew that she had revealed something astounding and wholly significant. Struggling somewhat to collect his thoughts, he addressed the girl.
"You were able to apparate into the school yesterday despite the numerous anti-apparition charms in place. How so?" His tone was cool and gave no clue as to the clamouring suspicions hidden by the blank obsidian eyes now directed at her. She raised her head, her eyes half obscured by long sooty lashes meeting his, equally void.
"I can break through most wards fairly easily," she replied levelly, "though those were more difficult than most."
Severus snorted to himself. She was talking about the strongest possible warding spells as if they were pathetic blocking charms conjured by first year students. Just how deep did these extraordinary powers of hers run?
"Just how advanced is your performance of wandless magic, Miss D' Souza?" he questioned further, walking slowly towards her, his hands tightly clenched behind his back. This was the stance that reduced first years to quivering heaps, the looming spectre of the fearsome potions master stalking predatorily towards them, the stuff of nightmares. However, she kept his gaze and replied evenly,
"I can perform all spells learnt up to seventh year at Beauxbatons wandless, plus some that are off syllabus, though it is not very often that I get the chance to use them." She spoke of her astounding abilities with a subtle trace of quiet conceit, her lips curling into a small smirk.
Her smug confidence in the face of his coercion was disconcerting for the fearsome professor and he wondered how to best continue with his interrogation. The look of calm overconfidence on her face painfully reminded him of the look which he had seen so often reflected upon his own face during his teenage years, the twist of arrogance which had played over his lips a near reflection of her own expression, as her eyes followed him closely as he paced the length of the class room. He felt the cold hand of trepidation clench at his innards and he found himself sincerely hoping that this young girl would not be led by her self-importance to choose the same cruel and treacherous path that he had.
He was ever mindful of the figure of Dumbledore at her side, silent yet he knew that any unnecessarily harsh questions would be silently reprimanded with a look of admonition. In the temporary lull of questioning, she spoke, cutting him off.
"I understand that you are a member of the Order?"
His eyes narrowed, and a flicker of surprise crossed his face.
"And how exactly did you know that, Miss D'Souza?"
She smiled tightly, noting the tone of suspicion and distrust in his voice.
"It's hard to grow up with an Auror for a father and not absorb at least some of what he says.
"Aloysius should know better than to openly discuss the Order with anyone who should ask," Snape replied, his eyes glinting dangerously as he thought of Aloysius, seeing, to his irritation, more of him than ever in the face of the girl sat before him.
She shifted her position and crossed her arms over her sage green robes, shining ethereally in the candle lit gloom of the dungeons.
"I'm hardly "anyone who asks," Professor. If I am expected to join the Order I can hardly be kept in the dark about it."
Snape smirked acrimoniously, his mouth curling to one side.
"Yet you are happy to keep others in the dark, as you put it, with regards to your abilities?" he asked sardonically, relishing the look of frustration he got in return.
Dumbledore spoke up, sensing the tense antipathy brewing between the professor and the girl.
"Now Severus, It was my decision to keep Eleanora's powers confidential. If you wish to blame anyone, kindly choose me, though I hardly think you can censure me to for merely trying to preserve the security and secrecy of what may come to be our best chance at defeating Voldemort? His words were heavily weighted and Severus seemingly understood, as he sighed wearily and turned back to Eleanora.
"I apologise for my reaction, Miss D'Souza," he said stiffly, his mendaciousness tangible as his words hung awkwardly in the thick air.
She surveyed him closely, enjoying his uncomfortable expression. He was evidently a man not accustomed to apologies, his pride an impenetrable wall that he had erected around himself, preventing anybody or anything reaching in or out, save a defensive barrage of sarcasm and cruel remarks.
"I accept your apology. I hope that in future we can exist on a more civil plane of conversation?"
His eyes narrowed, though he managed to smile tightly at her, with a slight nod of his head, a strand of soft black hair falling over one eye. He made no move to remove it, and Eleanora was, despite her antipathy for the man, filled with a compulsion to reach out and gently brush it way as she had at dinner the previous evening. Instead, she merely returned his tense smile.
"Something tells me it is almost lunchtime," said Dumbledore, in an obvious attempt to break the tension that had settled over them. "Shall we?" he asked, offering his arm to his goddaughter who took it willingly, in her eagerness to escape the oppressive gloom of the dark dungeon.
"Severus? Would you care to join us?" the headmaster asked, only to be met with a shake of the head and a short "No, thank you, Albus," in reply.
As Eleanora and Dumbledore left the dungeon, Severus stood at the crack of the door, scrutinising the young woman, arm in arm with the headmaster as they ascended the staircase. Something about her still played upon his mind, and not with the hostility with which he had previously regarded her. He shook his head jadedly, and brought a pale hand to massage a throbbing temple. He needed a drink. With heavy footsteps he walked to his quarters, resigned to spending the afternoon in the company of a bottle of Ogden's, studiously ignoring the riotous tangle of thoughts that fought for attention in his aching head.
Thanks go to my buddy Bri (Lucky-11) for her review: Thanks dude!
Also to Claribel for her invaluable advice – don't worry: Eleanora is certainly not perfect – she has a lot of flaws that you'll see more of quite soon – hey, that's in incentive to stick with the story, surely?