Disclaimer: If you recognize it, it belongs to J.K. Rowling

Chapter 2: Out of the Haze, Into Routine

During her first three weeks at Hogwarts, Fanny existed in a kind of shock- induced stupor. Terrible though her recent experiences were, she might have emerged sooner from the deep haze had it not been for the weather. The rain was ceaseless, and the short winter days passed by blankly for the students. The dungeon labs were more than usually dank, and the students sat four to a table to avoid the sporadically placed cauldrons that caught, with a dull plunk and splash, the drops that fell from the leaking ceiling. The upper level classrooms were hardly better; the noise of the rain on the windows, which was at first almost pleasant, soon became, through repetition, an endless cacophony that thoroughly pervaded the minds of the students; even hours later, as they lay in their quiet dormitories, they could still hear the drumming inside their heads. After a week and a half of it, the teachers cast silencing spells on the classrooms, but the sudden total quiet was almost equally disturbing. Every living thing in the school was visibly depressed by the weather, and motivation for teaching fell along side motivation for learning. Homework lightened considerably, and the students spent most of their free time sleeping.

It was perhaps lucky for Fanny that the workload dropped. She had missed a great deal of material from September to November, and studied night and day to bring herself up to speed. Every evening she walked through the echoing halls to the library, where she worked like an automaton, in total solitude except for the occasional visit from Lily Evans. It was rigorous and exhausting, but Fanny was glad for it; the work kept her from remembering.

Lily first appeared in the library on Fanny's second day to find her old playmate sitting at a teetering table piled so high with books that one leg stuck awkwardly out as if about to collapse at any moment. Fanny greeted her over the top of the New Magic World Encyclopedia, Volume F, and continued reading. A few moments passed in awkward silence before Lily lifted the book right out of her friend's hands.

"Fanny," she said, "I've come to show you around the castle."

"I'm pretty busy, Lily, got lots to do." She picked up another book.

"Don't be coy; if we're to be friends, you can't fool me. I'm sure you're busy, and I'm sure you'd rather be alone, but you need a bit of company."

"Some other time? Only I've got so much to do."

"No, you need a break. We're going now." There was no room for argument. Fanny put down her work and sighed. "C'mon," Lily added with excited wide eyes, "there are things I can show you that will take your breath away." It wasn't an exaggeration. An hour later the marvels of the castle, the unprecedented grandeur of the grounds, and the idle jovial talk of her friend lightened Fanny's heart.

As the weeks passed she found her old self emerging from the haze, coaxed along by the comfort of school routine, and the support and loyalty of her friend. It was not easy to leave the fog, as Fanny realized suddenly one day. In early December, the rain stopped, and a bright winter sun shone on the soggy grounds; the lake was placid and difficult to look at for the glare, and the trees of the Forest stood out sharply like paper cutouts in a diorama. In Runes class, Professor Sandahar, quite recovered from the lethargy of the past month, gave a pop quiz. The students marked each others tests, according to a legend Sandahar posted on the blackboard, and handed them back the same class. Fanny received ninety-four percent. It was as a sign, as far as she was concerned, that she had finally caught up. Every day since she arrived at Hogwarts, Fanny was so fixated on her studies that she took in very little of her surroundings and situation. But the moment she received her marked paper, the preoccupation vanished, and her mind was free to wander. She looked at her classmates almost as if she were seeing them for the first time, and like waking from a dream, remembered why she was here and not at home, in America, where she belonged, where she wanted to be. So terrible was the world she awoke to, that without even realizing it, she instinctively quelled the horrible feelings that threatened to devastate her. The reality of her mother's gruesome death was neatly bundled up and dropped, like a stone, into her deep subconscious. It would always be with her, but put away, out of sight, so that her waking mind could cope and move on.

Lily and Fanny continued to meet through December. Sometimes they would walk through the halls, looking at the paintings or talking to the enchanted statues. On clear days, they would spend an hour outside on the stone steps of the castle eating lunch or playing Frisbee in the snow by the Forbidden Forest. They would sometimes hear snide remarks from students, usually Slytherins, about the muggle toy that Lily had brought with her to school, but the comments were, for the most part harmless. The situation became ugly on only one occasion.

A Slytherin couple that Fanny recognized from Potions class stumbled upon a game one afternoon. "Good Lord!" said a small, fair witch named Violet, "Look at the muggle trash those girls have." She looked at Lily and sneered. "Did you find it in the rubbish heap you call a home, mudblood?" Lily turned bright red and gripped the Frisbee like grim death. The young man didn't say anything, but shifted about, glaring mutely at the three witches. Fanny remembered him from her first morning; it was Snape, the boy that Sirius and James had taunted. He didn't look too comfortable at the moment, and Fanny had the sudden though that, beneath his nasty facade, the boy was unhappy with his companion's hostility. It wasn't clear what his actual thoughts were, though, and Fanny had the urge to draw the truth out of him.

"Do you have something you'd like to add?" she asked him.

But Violet was protective, and before he could answer, she shoved him aside and advanced so that she stood almost toe to toe with Fanny. "He's got nothing to say to muggle-loving filth like you," she said. "Rumor has it you're pure blood, but I say you're nothing more than a traitor to your class!"

Fanny looked coolly at the Slytherin girl and raised her eyebrows. She had been bullied too many times in the past to be phased by a snotty girl. "Traitor? Trash? If my class includes people like you I'd turn my back on it any day. Your company makes filth seems sublime! Come on Lily, I've wasted enough time today." Fanny brushed past the girl, smiled pleasantly at Snape, who now looked very surprised, and walked away.

A few days later, Fanny entered the great hall to the unpleasant realization that Christmas was upon her. Twelve foot high trees decorated in prismatic colours and ringing with the song of live birds stood against each wall. So multitudinous were they in number that the paintings behind them were completely obscured from sight and only the cats, rats and toads of the students could fit between the trunks. This created quite a problem for many of the first years, whose pets, not yet fully loyal, ran away to the impenetrable sanctuary of the trees, and were not seen again until twelfth night.

The trees were a source of delight for most of the students; they heralded leisure, presents, family. To Fanny, however, they signified a reality she did not care to face and the stone of remembrance that forever sat in the pit of her stomach began to turn and gnaw away at her. Lily had written home and attained permission to bring Fanny with her for holidays. The Tuesday before break began, she approached her friend merrily waving a letter in her hands. "I got an owl from my mum this morning. She was asking about you again." She broke off and looked shiftily around the room.

"C'mon, Lil', out with it," Fanny said.

"Well, I asked her about Christmas. Most kids leave school for the holidays, and we weren't sure what you'd be up to.Anyway, she wanted to know if you'd like to come stay with us. I'm sure it wouldn't make up for.um.you know.but you shouldn't be alone, and it would be nice, Fanny! All that time together. Dippet couldn't refuse."

It was impossible. Fanny had agreed, in the letters she sent before her transatlantic flight, to spend the holidays with her grandmother. She hardly knew her; having traveled directly to Hogwarts from America, it would be the first time they would meet in person in a decade. Fanny was apprehensive, but hopeful about meeting her only living relative, and felt that in any case, Christmas was a time for families. Flattered by her friend's concern and happy to know that she had a place in the world should her grandmother turn out horrible, Fanny retired to her room filled with a rare feeling of optimism.

That night, the bad dreams began. So lifelike was the image of her mother's prone lifeless body and so real was the feeling of dread and incalculable loss that, when Fanny awoke, it took her a few moments to remember where she was. She laid awake, imagining crazy, irrational things lurking in the shadows of the dormitory room, and waiting, charged with adrenaline, for the light of dawn. Incoherent and exhausted, Fanny trudged into the great hall at seven a.m., picked up a giant steaming mug, and began a loving lifelong relationship with coffee.

The nightmares and insomnia continued nightly well into the Christmas holidays, and sporadically after that for years, although she told nobody about them. By Boxing Day, Fanny looked quite terrible and although her grandmother must have noticed the dark circles under her eyes, and the limp, distracted look she wore, the matronly old woman said nothing.

Despite the rough nights, though, the days of Christmas break were pleasant, and passed by in a lethargic blur. Fanny's grandmother, Elanor, was half-muggle, and the pair sat at the dining room table for hours at a time, eating and playing checkers or rummy. The two women found they were quite similar in temperament and interests. The older lady had specialized in the wand magics before she retired three years earlier, and Fanny was delighted by the vast information that she reeled off in the waning evenings. The two women were alike in appearance as well. Although they had not met in many years, they recognized each other right away: the same face had been passed down through three generations-from Elanor to Gene to Fanny. By the end of a fortnight, the two women were fast, and as the holidays drew to a close, Fanny realized that she regretted her ultimate departure. She wished she could stay on at her grandmother's for a few more months, and she began to look forward to summer when she could return.

January second was a busy day, full of travel and reunion. Arriving back at school in the early afternoon, Fanny was almost bowled over by Lily the moment she entered the great hall. The young women sat up late that night, swapping Christmas stories and lazily eating the remains of holiday sweets. As the spring term progressed, however, Fanny began to see less and less of her friend. Between boyfriend, homework, and extra-curricular activities, try as she might, Lily had little time left over for her. Every so often, Fanny would spend an evening or weekend with her friend, but James and Sirius usually accompanied. They were clever and funny and always made Fanny feel comfortable. After her first morning, she never saw them bully Snape again, and eventually her initial misgivings diminished. Still, charming as they were, Fanny found the boys a bit superficial and didn't extract much pleasure from their company. Students from her own house, noticing her quick acceptance into the most popular clique in the class, tried to befriend her as well. It was all quite foreign to the poor American girl, and she found, much to her surprise, that popularity wasn't what she wanted after all in her days back home, but simply freedom from maltreatment. Solitude or small quiet groups were quite enough for Fanny, and she began to spend her free time with her old habits of reading and daydreaming.

Fanny shared only Charms class with Lily, and the girls made the most of it, socializing whenever possible. Lily was by far the most gifted student in the class, and Fanny trailed closely behind her. The teacher, Professor Wiggish, was young and easy-going, and allowed her students to talk freely provided they produce results, and keep the noise level down. The girls always finished the class work within twenty minutes, leaving the rest of the period to catch up on gossip. Lily would usually spend the time talking about James: cute things he said, mean things he did, funny stories he told. Sometimes she would elbow Fanny and, with a coy smile, point out how cute Sirius looked that day, but Fanny would always totally ignore this line of conversation and change the subject.

School, for the most part, was relaxed for Fanny. Only one class presented any problem for her: Potions. It was never her strong point, and she always had to study twice as much as any normal student to achieve average grades. Her mother, a Potions expert, would have been disappointed if her daughter did poorly, and this was the only reason Fanny tried at all. She had never cared for the subject. Now, however, Potions became an obsession. Part of her thought that, if she excelled, she could keep her mothers spirit alive. Another part needed to understand how and why she had died. Average grades were no longer good enough and she studied harder for Potions alone than for all other classes combined, looking for help whenever and wherever necessary

By March, Fanny was the second best student in the class. She had initially aimed for top spot in her fervor, but quickly realized it was unattainable. Severus Snape was in her class, and he was the most promising young Potions student the school had seen for thirty years. He was utterly unbeatable. Despite their similar interests, though, Fanny had not spoken with Snape since the day of the great Frisbee fiasco, and he had never yet said one word to her. From time to time, she caught him looking at her with a scowl on his face, and she wondered if he disliked her. It was hard to tell; he always scowled.

Immediately before Easter holidays, Yestmin, the Potions Instructor assigned a particularly difficult problem. He offered help to anyone who might need it, but came down with a very severe case of warlock grey fever before he could make good on his promise, and spent the week before holidays quarantined in the hospital wing. Professor Wiggish was called in to supervise during Yestmin's absence, but, being rubbish at potions, was unable to offer any help at all. The students doubted from past experiences that he would give them an extension upon his return, and worked feverishly trying to figure out the solution. Only Snape and his Slytherin friends seemed relaxed and confident. Fanny made a great effort to solve the problem on her own, but after a week she, like most of her peers, had made no progress. Finally, during the last class before Good Friday, she resigned her pride and approached Snape.

"Excuse me," she said politely, "I was wondering if you've solved Yestmin's problem yet?" Snape lowered his book, frowned, and looked silently at her for several moments. Fanny began to wonder if he would answer her at all, and fidgeted uncomfortably with the quill she held.

"You're Gene Bowley's daughter aren't you?" he asked. Whatever she might have expected, it wasn't this.

"Oh, um, yes, I am," she said, reddening as every person in the class turned to look at them, apparently shocked that he would casually breach such an awkward subject.

"I've read her papers," he said, "she was quite remarkable. Very forward thinking."

"Er.Thanks." The conversation was somewhat disturbing, and Fanny felt that she might like to have a good cry soon; but at the same time, it was a relief to hear someone finally speak openly about her mother, especially someone who understood, at least a little, how wonderful she had been.

"My name is Severus Snape," he said and held out his hand, calmly ignoring the stares of his fellow classmates.

"Fanny Bowley. It's nice to meet you." And much to the horror of the Slytherins and Ravenclaws alike, Severus and Fanny shook hands.