Author's note: Butterfly! One of my most faithful reviewers! By now I'm convinced that you'll never let me down. Thank you for accompanying me on this journey.
Thank you, jenna. It's great that you found the time to review. We writers are always incredibly happy when we notice that we're actually being READ.
And thanks to In Silent Lucidity. Long time no see. Good you found your way back to my story. Even my muse was happy to see a familiar name on the reviews page. ;-)
And last but not least: Blaise! Your reviews always make me grin like a complete idiot/maniac/lunatic in addition to making me feel special as hell. *cuddles to death* Of course you may borrow anything you like from me—well, anything except my muses. ;-)
Oh, and as this story has Blaise Zabini as a boy, I'd like to point out that according to the German as well as the French versions of the books, Blaise Zabini is a girl. Those are languages that actually show what you're dealing with. My mistake. I'd read too much fanfiction before I got to the Zabini parts in this story. *hides* So, my deepest apologies to everybody, especially my sister-in-heart Blaise.
Should I go back and change that?

Chapter 17: Live My Life Extended

You could be my unintended
Choice to live my life extended
You could be the one I'll always love

—Muse: Unintended

Sariss was on her way to breakfast the day following the Boggart lesson. It was a bit early for her taste, but she thought she might as well walk about the grounds until breakfast would be served. She simply couldn't fall asleep again when she had been woken by her own screams once more. Fortunately, she had a very amusing thought that could drive the memory of the dream back quickly. The Snape-Boggart. She still chuckled when she thought about Severus Snape (Fiercely desirable Potions master! Shut up!) in that awful mint green dress, the stuffed vulture-like creature on his head.

But there were also other things that had to do with him that made her disposition bearable. Those were their 'stolen moments'. Stolen, since they didn't have as much time on their hands to spend with each other as they would have liked. The fact that it was supposed to stay hidden and secret wasn't very constructive either. It robbed them of a gentle word here, a kiss or touch there…

"Up so early?" Sariss heard a very familiar voice when she walked across the Entrance Hall towards the still closed doors of the Great Hall. It was indeed a bit early for breakfast. Sariss could see that dawn was approaching when she chanced a look out the window.

"Couldn't sleep any more," she replied, walking towards him. "What are you doing up so early?"

"Couldn't sleep any more either. I thought I might as well develop the habit of prowling around the castle instead. The Dreamless Sleep Potion loses its effect all too quickly when you take it that often."

"You tell me."

"You look tired," he said, brushing a stray strand of hair behind her ear. He really seemed to love doing that.

"I am. I haven't slept very much before I woke up for good."

"Nightmares, isn't it?" Sariss nodded. "Looks like the potion doesn't work on you anymore either."

Sariss shrugged. "For a few hours it does… How about you? You've looked tired for quite some time."

"I can cope. I always have."

"That sounds like something I could have said."

"Perhaps you have."

"Probably." She smirked.

"It's a bit strange to have a conversation in the middle of the Entrance Hall in the wee hours of the morning, don't you think?"

"It's not really the wee hours, Severus."

"Be that as it may, breakfast won't be even available for at least another hour or so…"

"Are you implying that we could move our conversation to a place that's more comfortable?"

"You catch on quickly. And as it happens to be, my rooms have been heated the last few days, so you'll be quite comfortable there. I hadn't even realized they were that cold before. But I guess I've grown accustomed to it."

"Well, what are we waiting for then? I'm very curious about your chambers. You've been guarding your hideout very thoroughly. Is your taste that bad?"

"I hope you find it not too horrifying," he drawled.

"I'm convinced that you have impeccable taste."

"Thank you very much."

"There's nothing to thank me for. I was only complimenting myself with that remark," she smiled mischievously before she rushed past him and down the staircase to the dungeons.

Half way down he caught up with her. "Do you even have an idea where my rooms are?"

"Not really. I just got the impression that they must be down here somewhere."

"That's quite correct. But—you see—the entrance is very well hidden."

"I know. I've been a Slytherin, after all, and even we could never figure out where exactly it was that you lived, only that it must be somewhere near your office."

A smile spread across his face. "Students really do ponder where my rooms might be? Why is that?"

"We would have loved to play a little joke on you. It would have been very funny if we could have done it in your rooms. But unfortunately we had to use your office for it if you—."

"What kind of joke was that again?" he asked. Then the realization dawned on him. "It wasn't the one with all those—?" He shook his head. "It took me hours to get rid of them. Months later I still kept finding some I had missed."

Sariss could tell from his expression that he remembered exactly the joke she was referring to. "Yes," she grinned up at him.

"I should give you detention… Regard yourself as serving detention now," he smirked.

"Come on, it was funny. We had been collecting them for months on end. And thus, we made sure you had Every Flavour Beans aplenty. They must have lasted you for weeks."

"They might have if you hadn't sorted the edible ones out."

"That wasn't my idea."

"Sure it wasn't."

"I'm not that evil."

"You're a wench—at times."

"And you're a—."

"Hold it. We're there."

They were standing in front of a wall, an empty wall, really not very far from his office. No portrait, no tapestry, nothing of that kind; only a grey cold stonewall. Nothing special. Sariss had walked past this wall hundreds of times when she had been a student here. The Slytherin common room wasn't that far from there. Only a few more minutes down the corridor and then left and then right again it was to the entrance—an equally blank wall.

"The wall over here? What's the password?"

"There is none. Give me your hand," he said. Sariss did so, jumping slightly when their hands met.

This tingling sensation is very annoying at moments like this.

But there are moments when it's very pleasant, aren't there?

Shut it.

"Now watch and remember it well," he continued and placed the palm of her hand flat against the wall, guiding it over the smooth surface—but there was a stone that felt somehow different, so smooth that the others seemed rather crude in comparison with it.

"What's that?" Sariss asked although she could imagine his answer.

"You feel the difference?"

She nodded, her palm still resting on the stone. "It's smoother than the surrounding stones. What am I supposed to do to make it open up?"

"That," he replied, taking hold of her wrist and guiding her hand so that it slowly brushed over the stone's surface from left to right.

A faint rustling noise could be heard and a whole segment of the wall moved to the side, revealing another corridor at whose end Sariss could see a door.

Severus gestured for her to walk on. A rustling sound indicated that the wall closed after them. Sariss turned around to look at it and sure as that, there was not the slightest trace that there had ever been an opening.

"I just have to point out now that I am much more easily to find than you…"

"I don't find you easily. I find you lovely—pardon the pun."

Sariss smiled. "It was a good one. I've heard worse."

"Like?" he asked, knocking once at the door. "Only once."

"Not important… What happens when you knock more often?"

"It'll attack and eat you," he said in a dead serious voice.

Sariss involuntarily took a step back. She must have looked very horrified, since he quickly added, "Just kidding. The joke wasn't very good anyway."

"I wouldn't put anything beyond the furniture, doors and walls in this castle, especially when they're associated with the Slytherin part of it. I clearly remember—," she broke off as the door swung open, finally revealing Severus Snape's private chambers.

"That's—wow!" Sariss whispered in awe, still standing in the doorway, frozen to the spot.

"Come inside," he prompted.

"Oh, yes, right, thank you."

"Mi casa es su casa."

"It's nice."

"Yours can't be that bad, can they?" he mused. "Perhaps it wasn't such a bright idea to be after the DADA job all the time…"

Sariss chuckled. "No, it's not that. You just surprised me. It's…"

And Severus Snape's rooms were really of impeccable taste—well, at least they matched Sariss's taste quite well, although there were no windows in there. Instead of torches, there were some clouds of glowing mist hovering near the ceiling, throwing a gentle light on the whole room. It was as bright and soft as the light of day. The room was a bit like him. You had to look very closely to see the personality that had shaped its appearance.

There were shelves with books and jars and some peculiar stuff on them lining the walls. The floor was covered with a dark green carpet that muffled one's steps so much that they were almost inaudible. A desk was standing there, too. Much tidier than Sariss's desk it was. Too tidy. Almost empty.

He must be working in his office quite a lot instead…

There was a table and a pair of armchairs standing near the fireplace and some sort of sofa, a very comfortable looking sofa, also Slytherin green.

The door to the adjacent room was open. The bedroom. Sariss could see the usual four-poster. Green hangings, just like hers.

He certainly does like that colour. A true Slytherin.

And you wore a dress in the same colour when you shared your first real kiss.

Now that you mention it… If I had known—.

Your choice couldn't have been better.

"I take your sudden silence as an approval," Severus's voice penetrated the silence after a while.

Sariss turned around to where he was casually leaning against the wall next to the door. "I sure do approve. It's a bit like I imagined, but at the same time it's not."

"What do you mean?"

"I had thought it would be darker, more dungeon-like, resembling in style the Slytherin common room… which it kind of does, don't get me wrong, but it's… I don't know… It looks cosy, like a home, although a home that hasn't been lived in for very long. Why is that so?" she added as an afterthought.

"It never felt like home before," he answered; his expression unreadable—and Sariss knew what it meant when that was so.

"I'm sorry. I provided the perfect starting line for a conversation along the lines of 'Home is where the heart is—and I don't have the slightest idea where to look for mine'." She leant against the wall next to him.

"You didn't. I did. I just keep thinking—."

"Don't think."

"I cannot not think."

"Then think about something else instead."

"Any suggestions?"

"If nothing else… then this perhaps…"

Sariss drew him towards her, stood on tiptoes and kissed him, very, very slowly, only teasing him. She could feel the little hairs on the nape of his neck stand on end, her cold fingertips leaving goose bumps behind where they touched his skin. "Still thinking?" she mumbled against his lips.

"Not really. I've been waiting for this moment for days on end. I hardly caught a glimpse of you since the Quidditch match. And I can hardly even look at you during mealtimes when I know I won't be even touching you in front of everybody for fear something might overcome me. Something like this," he replied before he drowned her in a kiss, pressing her against the wall with the length of his body, his hands sneaking around her waist, thus enveloping her in everything that was him, his warmth, his scent, his emotions—desire, affection, care… He clearly cared very much about her; it might even be love. Those emotions were very hard to tell apart, it was actually roundabout impossible. And it wasn't important, either, since to Sariss love couldn't exist without care. And even if Severus only cared about her, it was much more already than anyone else—except her mother and Dumbledore perhaps—had ever felt for her. At least not to that extent. She felt as though she were standing in a fire, the flames searingly hot, yet not burning her up.

Oh, don't give me the 'He cares for me' thingy. You sound like a bad psychologist, dear.

I don't care what I sound like, actually. Not now. I can't think very clearly…

He wants you.

You might be right… If he carried me into the bedroom now, I wouldn't even have the strength to object…

Wait, wait, wait. Where's the voice I usually bicker with?

Right here.

Doesn't sound like it.

Doesn't feel like her usual self either… Oh, by Merlin and Morgana…

He had begun to trail hot kisses along her jaw line and towards her ear, his tongue drawing small moist circles, his teeth grazing over her skin, in a way that seemed to melt every bone in her body—when he drew back rather suddenly and took a step back. With a moan, Sariss slumped against the wall, her knees having the stability of jelly, catching her breath.

Perhaps he thought he was pushing her too far? She had to admit that if he had kept this up for much longer, she wouldn't have minded if he had started undressing her.

Not at all…

"I sure do like this room," she whispered breathlessly, absent-mindedly, her thoughts still clouded. Her lips were tingling; she could still taste him, his scent seemingly lingering all over her.

"I dare say this room likes you, too," he said, not even remotely as breathless as she was. "Your sheer presence has an effect on it… It's similar to the effect you have on me."

"It likes me?" Sariss teased, smiling slightly.

"I only said it's similar to the effect you have on me. And all the better since I'd hardly get work done in here if you had the same effect on it as you have on my state of mind," he mumbled against her lips again. "Would be much too cloudy in here…"

"Remarkable how you manage to flatter me so very discreetly." Sariss fought to keep her eyes open. Her eyelids had developed a tendency to droop and fall shut when he was so close.

"Would you rather I were flattering you more openly? I think I can manage that, too…" he drawled lazily, his breath hot on her lips.

If he keeps this up, I guarantee for nothing…

Now's not the time and you know it. You hardly know him.

I've known him since I was eleven years old. And he told me enough about himself.

You can't tell for sure that there's not more than that.

At the moment, I can't seem to care about that. And isn't there a saying that says 'Take what you can get before it's taken by someone else'?

You don't want to take something here. You want to be—.

Hold your tongue!

I don't even have one. I'm just the analytic part of your mind.

The annoying part you are.

I'm not talking to you anymore.

Alright. Then mope as long as you want. We both know you can't keep out of it for very long…

Sariss grinned against his lips. A certain thought had just occurred to her.

"Speaking of flattering…" she breathed. "Mint-green is definitely not your colour."

He drew back and looked at her, puzzled. "What?" He furrowed his brows in confusion.

He is so cute when he's confused, isn't he?

Let's confuse him a bit more then…

You're talking to me again! I knew you couldn't keep quiet for very long.

Confuse him. Confuse him—.

I heard you the first time… Could have been my idea.

In a way it was…

If you think so. Let's see…

"And you're not the type for a fox-fur scarf either," she added in a dead serious voice. How she had managed to do that she didn't know. The laughter was fighting to get out.

"You've lost me completely now." He shook his head.

"Let me explain it that way. I had a very entertaining lesson yesterday afternoon. You're lucky you weren't at dinner. Or perhaps, I was lucky that you weren't. I would have dropped to the floor, howling with laughter if I had seen you so shortly after the lesson with the seventh year Slytherins and Gryffindors…"

"And?" He raised his eyebrows.

"I was revising Boggarts with them."

"And?"

"Did you know that you're still Neville Longbottom's greatest fear?"

Severus buried his face in his hand and mumbled, an incredulous tinge to his voice, "He didn't." Then he looked at her, rather pleadingly. "Tell me he didn't. Please."

"Oh, yes, he definitely did." She grinned broadly. "Although I can't see a reason why he might be afraid of you. You don't look very scary from where I am right now." Sariss snorted with laughter at the memory and the expression on Severus's face.

"Sariss…" By now, he was glowering down at her. If he was serious or not, she didn't know and she didn't care. She couldn't stop laughing all of a sudden.

"You know," she gasped, "the Boggart-Snape even had that line appear between its eyes which has just appeared between yours, too… I'd just like to know what Longbottom's grandmother had to say to this when the news about that reached her ears…"

"Oh, please, it's not that funny." Severus rolled his eyes.

"It is funny, too funny. And I'm sorry, really. I'm sorry. I can't stop laughing. I didn't mean to laugh at you. It's just that I couldn't bite it back any longer when I looked at you. I just keep imagining you in that dress. It was lace-trimmed…"

He sneered slightly.

She snorted again and leant against him for support. He was so much more comfortable than the wall…

"I'm sorry…" she repeated in-between gasps for air. When she had finally calmed down, she raised her head and looked him in the face. He showed not the slightest bit of emotion in his features. "I'm sorry," she chanced a small smile at him, then she pouted and gave him an upward glance. "Forgive me?"

"I'm so pleased my distress amuses you," he drawled, smirking—almost smiling—and little wrinkles appeared around his eyes as he did so. "I'm afraid it takes more than just saying that you're sorry."

"A sign of good will, so to speak?" she caught on.

"That's one way to put it…" he trailed off as he pulled her near once more.

"You should be thankful that I got it out of my system now," she teased, her arms around his waist. "If I hadn't I might have sniggered for no apparent reason all day long—what do I say? All week at least."

"I would have found a way to silence you." His voice alone was enough to send shivers down her spine—velvety, low and husky as it was right now.

"Really?"

"Yes," he said.

"And just what did you have in mind?"

"This, perhaps…" he trailed off and began to demonstrate very thoroughly and repeatedly how he would have silenced her until Sariss very breathlessly and equally hesitantly pointed out that they would have to go now if they wanted some breakfast at all before lessons started…

~*~*~

After the second to last double-lesson on Friday, Sariss decided to take the stack of parchment to her chambers rather than drop them off in her office. It was nicer to work in her warm and cosy study than the equally warm yet not so cosy office.

Turning round the corner of the corridor, she bumped into someone. The parchments went flying to the floor—as did Sariss, who didn't even look up at the person who had caused the little catastrophe. She quickly Summoned the parchments and ordered them to arrange into a neat stack. "Can't you look where—?" she began.

"Nice to see that you, too, drop things when I get near you."

She tossed her hair back and looked up at him, letting a smile cross her features. "Don't just stand there, Severus. Make yourself useful and be a gentleman and help me up," she said mock-sternly.

He bowed. "If the lady will accept my hand?"

"The lady certainly will." Sariss was really smiling by now. How easily he managed to do that, make her smile. She took his hand, trying to ignore the static electricity that rustled between them, and let herself be pulled up. "What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be down in the dungeons?"

"I've got to see Dumbledore," he said.

"Important business?" she asked.

He shook his head. "Not for you. What about you? Shouldn't you be teaching now?"

"Yes, but I gave the students a bit of work. Meanwhile, I just wanted to drop off this stuff," she pointed towards the stack of parchment that was patiently sitting on the floor next to her feet, "in my study. I'll get another one of those next lesson and I don't want them to get mixed up, which is very likely with you sneaking around here," she added with a wink.

"Aren't you afraid that they'll be cheating?"

"Anti-cheating spell."

"You think of everything, don't you?"

"I try."

Sariss moved to pick up the stack again, but Severus didn't let go of her hand. Instead, he pulled her near.

"Severus, not here. We could be seen…"

"Unlikely. Lessons have already started. The students are all busy and off the corridors."

"What if some of them are late—?"

Actually, Sariss never got this far with her sentence since Severus had once more silenced her with a kiss, a very tender kiss. Sariss made a mental note to perhaps apply names to the ways he was kissing her, perhaps the names of candies or ice cream or fruit… This could be the strawberry with whipped cream version, slow and sweet as it was.

"A very wise decision to cease to fasten your hair," he mumbled in-between kisses, his fingers gathering up her tresses.

"No use," Sariss breathed oh so very eloquently, before he prevented any further conversation.

"This is witchcraft," Severus whispered when he pulled back.

"I am a witch," Sariss replied, enjoying the fact that she had such an effect on him—and the fact that he admitted it freely.

"And what a witch you are," he smiled and stroked her cheek. She leant into the palm of his hand.

They all but leapt apart when fast footsteps approached, and Severus displayed a presence of mind that was really impressive. "Can't you watch where you're going?" he snapped in a way that made Sariss take a step back. He groaned in exasperation, as a black-clad whirlwind rushed in their direction and off around the corner. The student was apparently late for his or her next lesson. "Let me see. Are you hurt?"

Sariss shook her head automatically.

"Do you think…" Sariss began when the student she hadn't even seen properly was out of sight and overhearing range.

"I don't know. Was I convincing?"

"If I didn't know what happened before," Sariss stated dryly, "I'd have thought we were back at where we were last year."

"Do you think he or she saw us… before?"

"I have no idea." She moved to pick up the stack of parchment. Severus had thankfully let go of her hand. "If the student saw us, the whole school will know by tonight if he or she doesn't keep their mouth shut."

"Have you ever considered using a Memory Charm?" Severus asked sarcastically.

"I don't like Memory Charms very much, although they are necessary when you deal with Muggles. In this case, I'm not sure. And we don't even know who it was."

"We'd just have to find out who was late for their lessons."

"Yeah, right. It would only make a few dozens or so to narrow it down to. And what would you ask them, 'Excuse me, but have you seen two Hogwarts teachers trying to cover up that they were snogging in the third floor corridor?'"

"A bit more subtly perhaps. Anyway, we can always say that I bumped into you when I ran around the corner. No reason why they shouldn't believe this, as we tend to put on one hell of a show."

"I'm not so sure if it's a show. We tend to argue constantly."

"I'd call it bickering, not arguing. Argument sounds so unpleasant," Severus said.

"But we certainly are convincing whether you call it argument or bickering contest. As far as I can tell we're not even suspected of having started on fancying each other."

"Fancying, huh? If snogging in the hallways is fancying…" he trailed off. "I should go now. Dumbledore, remember?"

"Alright then. You go and see Dumbledore. And I'll see to that I reach my rooms without another encounter like this one."

"You wouldn't dare cheating on me already, would you?"

"Never underestimate me," she drawled, then smiled. "Of course not. What do you think I am? A wanton woman?"

"The way you kiss me sometimes…" he trailed off and was already on his way again.

Sariss silently sent a prayer to everyone who might be listening. Please, whoever you are, if you saw something, do be discreet about this. Do not spread what you perhaps think you saw. Do not start a true rumour…

And apparently someone had been listening since later on there were no signs of anyone knowing about the fact that the Potions master and the DADA mistress had something that could by now very well be called the beginnings of an ardent love affair.

~*~*~

Ron yawned. "We shouldn't have celebrated so late last night. I think I'll fall asleep as soon as I sit down on my chair in Flitwick's class."

Harry too yawned. Ron's yawns were always so infectious.

In fact the entire seventh years were looking rather tired—at least the inhabitants of Gryffindor's boys' dormitory.

"I feel like I could sleep a week," Harry muttered, slumped down in his seat, and massaged the bridge of his nose. His glasses felt incredibly heavy today. "I shouldn't have had that last butterbeer."

"You tell me," said Dean. "I shouldn't have had the last three or so."

"I take it Ron's birthday party went on in the boys' dorm the whole night?" Hermione asked with a very naughty grin.

"Almost."

Harry only nodded and propped up his head on his elbow.

Professor Flitwick had just started the lesson and begun to explain something about Portkeys. "Today we'll learn how to charm one for every location. Who can tell me why Portkeys are so important in the wizarding community?"

Hermione's finger shot up.

Flitwick smiled. "Yes, Miss Granger?"

She cleared her throat. "Portkeys are necessary for wizards who don't have an Apparation license yet. They are also very useful to transport a great number of people to secure areas. An additional advantage of them is that you can Portkey into unplottable areas whereas Apparation doesn't work there. Although the Portkey must have been used to travel out of that area first, it is nonetheless the only way apart from Floo powder to enter an unplottable location by use of magic."

"Splendid explanation. Ten points for Gryffindor, Miss Granger. Couldn't have said it better myself. Now, everyone choose an object—there's the box—and we'll begin creating a Portkey. The out-Portkeying destination will be Hogsmeade…"

"How ever do you do that?"

"What, Ron?"

"Know all those things before you're taught them."

"Research. By the way, I've done some other research too."

"Other research?" Harry asked.

"I'll fill you two in after the lesson. Now let's practise charming our Portkeys."

"Oh…" Ron made a sound that could only be interpreted as frustration.

"They might let us use them for going into Hogsmeade. You could sneak off to Zonko's for a moment or two…" Hermione raised her eyebrows at him.

That motivated Ron in a previously unseen way.

When the lesson was almost over, Professor Flitwick said, "And now wrap them up carefully. We'll finish them next lesson. Careful there, Mr Longbottom. The Portkey does not yet know where to take you. You could end up anywhere if you touch it… I'd like you to revise what we did today, and thoroughly if you please."

"So…" Ron began. "What about that research of yours, 'Mione?"

"Remember when we spoke about Professor Ravon?"

"Yeah, sure. What about her?"

"My research was about that Patronus thing and her in general—background information, so to speak."

"Well, come on, out with it. What have you found out?"

"Professor Ravon was registered as an Animagus in 1985—that must be one of the reasons why her name sounded so familiar, I've read it before—which made me wonder how old she actually is. She didn't strike me old enough to have been out of school already in 1985," Hermione said. "And so I went and took a look at the Hogwarts parchment, the parchment which writes down the name of every magical child that is born."

"And? How old is she? Four hundred?"

"I'm not kidding, Ron. I found her first name on a parchment dated 1970, but her surname was illegible—."

"Illegible?"

"Blotched. A large blotch of ink all over it. I only knew it was her, because her given name is so unusual. I'd never have found her if her name were Katie or Lisa or something like that."

"Wait a second. If she was born in 1970…" Harry began. "That makes her fifteen in 1985. She became an Animagus when she hadn't even finished school?"

"It appears that she has received her Apparation license even earlier…" Hermione's expression became thoughtful. "I should have asked Professor McGonagall if I could take an extra course on that, too…" she muttered.

"Why would her name be hidden?" Ron asked.

"That's what I asked myself, too, at first. I tried to charm the blotch off. Didn't work. No matter what I tried. It must be under a similar spell that the books in the library have cast on them to make them last. But why do that to that parchment, in particular when it's supposed to be a record of the students destined to come here?"

"Was there nothing you could decipher?" asked Harry.

"No, not really. A bit of the first letter was visible, but it could be everything from B, D, P and R, of course."

"Maybe it was an accident…" Ron mused.

"They would have repaired it if it were."

"Yeah, right. Hadn't thought of that…" Ron sounded a bit embarrassed. "But who did it? Do you think Professor Ravon—?"

"Dumbledore would have set it right, I'm sure," Harry cut in before Hermione could. "He must have done it if it wasn't an accident, which it doesn't look like to me either."

"But why would he do that?" Hermione asked, her brows furrowed.

"Why would he refrain from letting someone read her name if it weren't important? I wonder if Professor Ravon knows—."

"The way it seems to me," Harry said, "all the Professors know her by that name… Maybe she has no idea that her name has not been fully recorded on the parchment… I mean, who goes to see if his or her name is on the parchment? I certainly didn't."

"But there must be something about her we haven't taken into consideration. Malfoy seems to know something about her…" Ron said thoughtfully.

"We don't know that. Perhaps he's just claiming to know something," Hermione replied.

"But why did she freak out if Malfoy was only talking rubbish?"

"She might have a secret after all." Harry shrugged. "Who doesn't nowadays?"

"Well, if that secret is that she worked as an Auror and killed a distant cousin or something like that of Malfoy's…" Hermione said.

"Maybe that's been the one time she used Avada Kedavra…" Ron sounded uneasy at the thought alone.

"Oh, come off it, Ron. It's happened before that, that the Aurors were given permission to kill rather than take a Death Eater for prisoner—especially when they act as ruthless as they have over the last two or so years…"

"But that's not a secret. I bet there are a lot of people who know about that incident. Where did you learn it? A clipping from the Daily Prophet?"

"As a matter of fact, yes."

"So that's not it… What about the Patronus thingy?" Ron asked.

"Well, of course I read up on that one, too. And the books all said something about Patroni reacting in general very strongly to a high concentration of magic in a being, but mostly evil magic, Dark magic and Dark creatures—."

"Professor Ravon—a Dark Creature? Oh, come off it! It didn't hurt her."

"Maybe Prongs just liked her? Or he wanted to take a closer look at her if she's good enough a teacher for his sonny-boy?" Ron joked, but then added, "Does a Patronus do something like that under normal circumstances? Just look at someone or something that they ought to charge at?"

"That's what puzzles me. They usually charge immediately at Dark creatures—not just Dementors and Lethifolds… However, they can't hurt the other creatures; they only drive Dementors and Lethifolds away…"

"So she's not one of those. What else is there? A vampire?"

"She's eating and drinking. You can see it at mealtimes quite well. And despite the fact that she's… er…—oh let's state it like it is already!—white as a wall, she walks around in bright daylight. So, no vampire there. And no werewolf either, for that matter. I have experience in that."

"Couldn't there be a spell that would allow her to walk in daylight if she were a vampire?"

"If you'd like to invent one, Ron, there'd be a lot of vampires kissing your feet out of sheer gratitude—."

"—and then they'd rip your throat out and feed on you," Harry finished in a fairly casual voice, sounding as though he were commenting on the weather.

Ron blanched a bit. "Lovely image there, really."

"And then I racked my brain for anything else to come up with," Hermione continued. "And this is where it gets really interesting."

"Really?" Ron drawled. Apparently, he had already had his share of Hermione's vast knowledge for the day.

Hermione ignored him. "I kept rummaging around old Daily Prophet clippings and—rather accidentally I must admit—came across a quite old issue. September 1980."

"1980? Voldemort—sorry, Ron—he was at his height of power back then…"

"Right. And guess what, he came for Professor Ravon and her mother. He killed the latter and cast some sort of spell onto her—."

"What kind of spell?"

"No idea. They had absolutely no idea. But the effect of it seems to have been that she kept doing exactly what's happened in class: Blowing up things—accidentally, of course. With much more disastrous results than when we lose it. But then again that might only have been the shock… I don't know… And a potion was involved, too, if I recall correctly. Again: No idea what it was or what it really did—save for making her grow colder physically and sensitive to other peoples emotions."

"You mean, she's a mind-reader?" This time it was Harry who blanched. If Professor Ravon had read his thoughts about Ginny…

"No, just emotions. When you're angry or upset or happy. Just how you feel randomly," Hermione explained hastily; she sounded as though she wanted to get to the point quickly, which she did. "The point is that You-Know-Who wanted to take her with him when the Aurors came and saved her. Why? Nobody knows. Nobody knows why he didn't kill her in the first place, why he didn't take her away first and then do what he did. Perhaps she was too powerful, even as a child?" Hermione mused. "And nobody knows what exactly happened to her… Well, I suppose, Dumbledore might know a bit of it. He took care of her when the Aurors couldn't control her and brought her here to attend school. That's about everything I could find in this short time. There's just too much parchment and books in the library when you don't know exactly what you're looking for. I was lucky to have found this small piece of information."

"Great," said Ron sarcastically. "But thanks anyway."

"Sometimes answers do lie in the library."

"Maybe," Harry said. "But instead of getting some answers we only got more questions."

Next chapter:

A visit to Hogsmeade. The ultimate flashback and a few highly unpleasant revelations. We'll finally come to the angsty part of this. I recommend handkerchiefs en masse if you haven't already acquired some earlier.