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

Chapter 5: The Runes Will Tell

Wednesday couldn't come quickly enough for Fanny. As the days passed, she began to anticipate her meeting with Snape with fierce intensity. The surprising and awkward encounter with Sirius in the maze left her feeling as if her whole social circle had been obliterated and she wanted nothing more than to spend some time with someone outside the group.

On Monday evening, the last of the long weekend, she finally emerged from her common room where she had been hiding since the kiss. After a breakfast and lunch of sweets pilfered from the stash she kept in her trunk, a hot cooked dinner was too good to resist. Besides, she had to face the Gryffindors eventually, and she figured the sooner the better.

It turned out to be quite soon indeed. The moment she sat down at the Ravenclaw table, Sirius timidly approached her. "Excuse me, Fanny, can I have a word?" he asked.

"Sure."

It was clear that he was very uncomfortable. He stood next to her for a few moments, clearing his throat and looking over his shoulder to the Gryffindor table. Fanny could see Lily watching him with a stern look, arms folded across her chest. She nodded curtly to him, and he finally continued. Apparently he was being forced to do this.

"Look, Fanny," he said awkwardly, "about yesterday."

The unease they obviously both felt irritated Fanny, and she'd already had enough of it. "Look, Sirius, lets just forget it, OK?" she said in the most sincere voice she could muster. "I hate walking on eggshells. You haven't offended me or angered me or anything. Can we just move past it?"

Sirius relaxed and looked a bit relieved. "I'd like that," he said. "After the way you left yesterday, I was afraid you were really upset. Well.I guess I'll see you in class then."

"Yeah, see you then."

"You really are the best Fanny!" he said with a smile and he clapped her on the shoulder before walking away very quickly.

Fanny let out a long breath. She was happy to be over with the inevitable first conversation with Sirius, and actually felt it went quite well. The lighthearted attitude she had displayed was feigned and she could tell he didn't feel quite as casual as he let on either. The awkwardness was still there, but at least they would both make an effort to get over it as quickly as possible. How long this might take, though, was anyone's guess.

But the awkwardness was not what bothered Fanny the most. The kiss had another, much worse side affect. When Sirius returned to his table, the boys put their heads together to hear what he had to say. They whispered to each other (Fanny was amazed at what gossips boys were), occasionally stealing a glance at Fanny. They didn't seem to be saying anything malicious, and looked at her with confusion or curiosity rather than anger. But it was obvious now that her role as an individual in the group had ended; to James, Remus and Peter, she had become the girl that rejected Sirius. And it wasn't likely that this would be forgotten any time soon.

'At least Lily won't think of me any differently,' Fanny thought. Although this was true, there was still a tension between them when Lily crossed over to the Ravenclaw table during dessert.

"Hi Fanny," she said, sitting down. "How are you? I heard what happened yesterday." Her freckled face was grave and she didn't question, gossip, giggle or analyze the way she would have if it had been some other boy. "I want you to know that, no matter what, I'm still you're friend and always will be."

"What do you mean 'no matter what'?"

"Only that I know things are a bit awkward between you and Sirius right now, and if they stay that way, I'll still be there for you." Fanny believed in her friend's loyalty implicitly, but she understood that Lily was now in a difficult position: if things should remain uncomfortable between her and Sirius, as it would judging by the amount of whispering the boys exchanged, Lily would be in the middle, unable to take sides. There would be no more relaxed picnics together, at least for the time being.

But Lily's expression betrayed more than simple anxiety. Disappointment was written all over her face. Fanny knew that there was nothing she wanted more than to cement the group by sparking a relationship between her and Sirius. She didn't like letting Lily down, but of course she wouldn't date someone just to please her friend.

"Don't worry, Lil. Worse things could happen. Life will be back to normal in no time."

"Are you sure?"

"Of course. It'll all blow over, you'll see."

Somewhat reassured, but still a bit sad and tense, Lily smiled briefly, hugged her friend, and left for her own table. It was true, things would improve in time. But at present, Fanny felt isolated from her friends, and quite alone. More than ever, she wanted her own private friend, someone she could turn to when things were bad, someone who wouldn't care what other people thought of her. Severus could be this friend, she thought. Not only would he have supported her decision to reject Sirius' advances, he would have practically lionized her for it. The secrecy he demanded of their meetings-in the library when the rest of the school was away, at midnight in a secluded corner of the castle-had bothered her at first; he was clearly wary of being associated with her. But now she began to like the idea. He could be the private friend she desired, existing outside the realm of social pressures and expectations, supporting her virtues and criticizing her mistakes objectively rather than simply going along with popular opinion.

Fanny really wanted to see him and Wednesday night couldn't come soon enough. The closer it came, the slower time seemed to pass until she thought it would never arrive. Classes on Tuesday and Wednesday were horrible. In Charms, Lily occupied her usual seat next to Fanny, but didn't say much apart from a friendly but quick greeting at the start of class and a hasty goodbye at the end, while the other Gryffindors sat stony and silent throughout the entire lesson. In Potions, Severus ignored her completely. It was a bit surreal being in such a small room with him while he pretended to be oblivious to her existence. The girl Violet, who sat next to him as always, didn't pretend to ignore her at all. Every time Fanny glanced in the general direction of the two Slytherins, Violet's evil icy stare was waiting for her as if in challenge: 'You think you can compete with me?' it seemed to say. Fanny didn't know if Violet was aware of her planned clandestine meetings with Severus, or if she just didn't like her in general. Either way, it was becoming quickly apparent that she had acquired a new adversary, and it struck her as very odd that this was the second time the prettiest girl in school developed a dislike for her.

Even at dinner on Wednesday night, as Fanny shoveled back her food in her mounting impatience, she could feel Violet's malevolent blue eyes upon her. Ignoring it impassively, she finished dinner quickly and stood to leave as soon as the half-devoured remains disappeared from the table. Her path to the door, unfortunately, carried her directly past Severus and Violet, and she heard the girl's chirping voice rise over the general noise.

"It's appalling how some people lack table manners, don't you think Severus? One would believe we were pigs at the trough the way some people devour their food."

There was no question who she was referring to. Fanny halted and turned on the spot, wanting more than anything to rub her new friendship with Severus in Violet's face, saying 'See you tonight then, Sevvie,' with her most charming smile. But she understood that it would be trouble for him if Violet knew, and instead quelled her impulsive desire, turned again, and left.

As she walked back to her common room she began to think for the first time about the logistics of this evening's meeting. Snape hadn't told her why they would meet. Was it to be another study session? If so, she should bring some books along. This point at least was resolved easily enough. She would simply bring her potions text and some parchment and quills, and if she didn't need them after all, it wasn't much effort wasted. The more difficult part of the problem was sneaking out after hours. The seven fingered Satyr was loud and a bit of a gossip. The safest thing, Fanny realized, would be to pass him as few times as possible after curfew. She also knew that passing him on her way into her common room was much less risky then passing him on her way out. If he raised an alarm on her way in, she would be safely in bed before any teacher arrived. With this thought in mind, Fanny packed up her potions text, along with some transfiguration homework, as soon as she reached her room. She brushed her hair and changed her robes and left for the meeting room.

It was only eight o'clock when she arrived in the old disused Runes classroom, but the space was almost totally dark. What little light there was came from the moon only three days past the full, filtering through four narrow windows on the west wall that were several feet high, but only a few inches wide. Fanny lit her wand, and after looking around a bit, transfigured a few broken quills and two pieces of chalk that she found on the old teachers desk into slow burning candles. These bits of rubbish were the only stray small objects left in the room, and Fanny hoped that her candles would last; she had nothing left to transfigure save her own personal items, and they wouldn't start conjuring for two more weeks.

In the light of the candles that hovered charmed overhead, the room glowed orange and flickering. The three windowless walls and the ceiling were veiled in darkness, making the area seem much larger than actually was. Many of the desks and chairs were broken or lay on their sides. There was no dust, though, or any other signs of disuse, and the disorderly furniture made the room seem as if it were abandoned in a great hurry. Above the windows, a wide banner hung, sectioned into thirty two boxes side by side, each filled with a strange curving figure. It was an ancient alphabet; Fanny recognized it from her elementary Runes classes. As she looked at the banner, the curving letters glowed red, but faded as she turned away. The candlelight, the darkness, and the mysteriousness of the room created an atmosphere that was both romantic and sinister. Fanny wondered if it was quite suitable for her meeting with Snape, but lacking any other source of light, decided there was nothing she could do about it. Settling down at one of the more stable looking desks, she pulled out her homework and waited.

At a quarter to twelve Snape finally arrived. Fanny didn't hear the door open or close, and was quite startled once more when he appeared suddenly out of the darkness. Her nerves were already on end, and the fright made her tense enough to consider berating him. But the somber look on his face almost seemed to dare her to try and cross him and she kept quiet. His expression was so serious and stern that she wondered why someone who seemed eternally irritated with her would ever desire her company. But as he sat down, pulling a potions book out of his pocket and placing it on the table, his face relaxed into a smug smirk.

"Well, Fanny, did you arrange these candles? That's very resourceful of you." He was patronizing her. "But don't you think they're just a bit inappropriate for tonight's meeting? Unless, of course, you plan to conjure some violins and roses as well in a bid to win my affections!" Fanny blushed furiously, completely at a loss for words. Casually, as if he said nothing strange at all, he pulled out his wand and transfigured the candles into several large bright oil lamps; the romantic atmosphere vanished instantly. "Shall we begin?" he asked calmly, his face impassive. "Perhaps I should start by explaining the nature and purpose of these meetings. As you know, I am unquestionably the most gifted potions student this school has seen in thirty years." He didn't bother substantiating this claim, and Fanny didn't question. "As a matter of fact," he said pointedly, "I am the most gifted potions student since your mother." He paused, watching Fanny closely.

"What has that got to do with me?" she asked brusquely.

"It seems such a terrible waste to allow the only daughter of Gene Bowley to flounder in the field she herself excelled at."

Fanny was torn between outrage and confusion. What right did he have to criticize her, and why was he so interested in her mother anyway? For the moment, the outrage won. "I'm not floundering in potions!"

"But you could do better. And so, to this end, we shall meet every Wednesday, as I have previously indicated, to study the delicate and intricate art of potion brewing. I expect you to arrive on time and prepared. Each week I shall assign you various problems that you will complete by our following session."

The confusion took over. "And what's in it for you?"

"I have my reasons."

"Would you care to enlighten me?"

"No, I wouldn't," he snapped. "I said I have my reasons, and that should be good enough for you."

"And if I don't complete my 'assignments'?"

The haughty smirk reappeared. "Well, then, you'll be punished accordingly," he said in a silky voice.

Fanny laughed nervously. It was strange and unsettling the way he switched gears so quickly. One minute he seemed supremely irritated by her, the next he was almost perversely flirtatious. Although the first attitude might have, under different circumstances, urged Fanny to walk out without looking back, the second attitude made her stay. Unbearably conceited and rude as this boy was, Fanny found herself, against her better judgment, utterly thrilled and flattered by his suggestive comments. She couldn't help but encourage them.

"Oh," she said, putting on a shyly seductive tone, "and what would my punishment be?"

For a brief moment, Snape looked quite taken back, but his surprise was quickly replaced by a satisfied smirk. "Why, Miss Bowley, I believe I'll leave that up to your imagination. If you have any imagination, that is."

"As a matter of fact, I have an exceedingly vivid imagination."

"Do you? I shall have to put it to test one day. But for now, you will open your potions text to page three hundred twelve." Apparently he'd had enough of their frivolous conversation. "We shall begin with poisons."

The words came out of his mouth like a slap across the face and Fanny felt suddenly sick. She could still hear the voice of Mr. Patches, the investigator into her mother's death, in her head: 'Accidentally poisoned by one of her own concoctions.' A helpless feeling consumed her, and she fought it, pushing the memory out of her head and opening her book as Snape had asked. She didn't want to be a slave to the past anymore.

"Please read the first paragraph," he said.

"Of the forty-three known varieties of poisonous plants, none are more fatal to humans than the castor bean. The plant, made poisonous by the toxic agent lectin, is so dangerous that one ingested bean is capable of killing an adult human. The castor bean plant, native to Ethiopia and other tropical regions of east Africa, is characterized by red-purple stems, glossy umbrella shaped leaves, and tri-lobed red fruit."

"How did your mother die?" Snape asked. Fanny stopped reading immediately and looked up at him in horror. Although she was shocked by his blunt question, she was totally astounded by the expression of genuine sympathy that he wore. It almost made her fall to pieces.

Lowering her head so that he wouldn't see her eyes grow watery and red, she answered in a thin voice that she kept steady only through great effort, "accidentally poisoned.by her own work." Snape was silent, and a few moments later Fanny pulled herself together enough to look at him again.

He watched her with compassion, as if she were a naïve little girl who needed to be educated on the grim realities of life. "Yes, I read that in the papers," he said, very softly. "But Fanny, you don't actually believe it do you? A gifted woman like your mother would never make such a mistake."

"How do you know?" Fanny asked. Her voice was wavering again with impending tears. "People make mistakes all the time! You didn't know her. She wasn't perfect. She'd always burn my toast in the morning, so why couldn't she screw up in her lab too? How could you possibly know?"

"Because I would never make such a mistake," he said.

Fanny knew in her heart that he was right-she had always known-but the implications of his statement were too much to bear. Like a petulant child, she steadfastly refused to accept the truth, choosing instead to argue and insult. "Maybe you will make a mistake like that one day," she told him. "Then as you lay dying horribly you'll realize that people aren't perfect and that you're just a stupid boy who doesn't understand what he's talking about!" Tears were now falling freely down her cheeks, and ashamed of her weakness, angry and upset, Fanny grabbed her things and rushed for the door.

"Fanny, wait," he said and she froze with her hand on the doorknob. He crossed the room and stood right in front of her. He seemed so tall to her, and she wished he would hug her, so that she could disappear in his surrounding embrace.

"Read and summarize chapter twenty for next Wednesday." And with that, he was gone.