A/N: this is the last update before I go home; although I now promise to do everything in my power to keep updates regular, I'm not sure I'll always be able to make it.
Disclaimer: aren't you as sick of this as I am? I don't own anything from Harry Potter, I am not making any profit out of this and I don't want to write another damn disclaimer in my life!
IvyCrane: Remus isn't here yet, but when he comes….. ::evil grin::
FAMILY MATTERS
PART XVII
Svetlana had managed to digest the fact of her son and husband getting on, and after a few days she was ready to accept that, her jealousy notwithstanding, it was better if Serguei and Severus established a normal father-and-son relationship: she shuddered to imagine what would happen if she had to flee again and those two stubborn males still refused to speak….. After having a bath and taking care of her hair (like she had been doing with utmost care since the morning when Severus had seen her in *such* a state of disarray), Svetlana let her mind wonder to more pressing subjects than her family life: Harry Potter and his deteriorating relationship, not only with the Slytherins, but with life itself, it seemed.
Still thinking, Svetlana awoke of Siena, and helped the little girl wash her face and hands and put on a warm woollen robe, perfect for the increasingly chilly weather and the sortie they were planning. Taking the basket a helpful house-elf had prepared for them, Svetlana led her daughter outside, without hearing or seeing a sign from her husband, who would probably be already in his workshop. The woman and the little girl walked until they reached the shores of the lake, from where they could see the castle, the Forbidden Forest and the Quidditch pitch, and sat down on a blanket the older witch Transfigured out of a leaf. Leaving the child to munch on the many treats reserved for her, Svetlana chose a single piece of fruit and bit into it, letting her attention wonder again.
Harry Potter was being the object of many an attack from Slytherin students lately, and neither Severus nor Draco had shown much intention of punishing the culprits, even if Dumbledore's eyes became stony and cold when the subject was raised in his office. As a consequence of the first attacks the Gryffindors also became more aggressive, and corridor fights, which often degenerated into full-blown battles, were an everyday occurrence, making it easier for the Slytherin authorities to justify their own attacks. While everyone was getting fully involved in the situation, the trigger of it all, The Boy Who Lived, was retreating more and more into himself, choosing to ignore the insults and hexes thrown his way and (as the Hufflepuffs said) letting his friends do the dirty work for him. Of course, anyone with a more insightful mind could see that it wasn't the real reason, but it was the one with more popularity in the school, inciting even the peaceful Ravenclaws to make snide remarks about people whose bravery wore off after a while.
With her cold blue eyes, Svetlana registered all of it, only dropping subtle hints in the Slytherin common room when it was needed, without anyone suspecting that it was her that moved the puppet's strings after all. It was fun to see how well the pieces moved, thought the Russian witch with a smile: a lie that was intended to stop Severus from comforting the young Gryffindor, and maybe to provoke Draco into pulling a prank or two, had developed into a state nearing civil-war for Hogwarts. It was remarkable and Svetlana was satisfied enough to choose a cinnamon-roll and sit back in the blanket, observing uninterestedly how Siena covered all of her recently-washed face and hands with cream and crumbs.
"You know, Siena, sweetheart, that today is six months since your grandfather was killed?" she said, addressing the young child, who stopped eating to listen "They got him almost at these very gates you can see there" Svetlana pointed her cinnamon-roll at the heavy iron gates that were the only entrance to the school "A big group of Death Eaters, and what did the people of the school do?" Siena stood still and silent, aware of the importance of the words, even if she didn't understand it "Exactly, my dear, nothing at all" The witch stopped her speech to take another bite of the biscuit, her eyes still on the gates, colder than they usually were "I know you didn't know your grandfather very well, but he was a very powerful wizard; he just didn't have enough time for his family, he never did….. that doesn't make him a bad person, though" Another thoughtful pause, and this time Svetlana did turn to Siena, to see the intelligent eyes of the girl fixed on her "Most people wouldn't approve of telling such stories to a young child like you, but I think you're in right age to start understanding, aren't you?" Siena nodded carefully, and Svetlana dedicated her a genuine smile. "Now, we will wash your face and hands *again* and go into the Library, where you will be your congenial self….. I need to talk to someone"
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"Well, what do you want us to do?!" exclaimed Ron in a whisper, his voice still sounding too loud in the quiet Library "We can't all be perfect little martyrs, you know?!" Svetlana stood frozen behind a shelf, while Hermione and Harry, receptors of that little tirade, sat in silence on a nearby table.
"Getting involved in every petty fight with those morons, is it really that necessary? A bit of patience, a bit common sense, that's all I'm asking" answered Harry quietly, with a cold desperation behind his words; both his best friends missed it, but the eavesdropper didn't.
"Maybe you want to stand still while they insult your family, offend you girlfriend and hit your friends" answered Ron, the anger in his voice palpable and maybe a bit of disappointment too "but I will not."
"Boys!" called Hermione, not knowing how to break off the fight, but knowing it could damage their friendship beyond repair. "Please, do calm down. I know this situation has got us all stressed out, but really, if we start fighting amongst ourselves, what are going to show to the Slytherins?" //Damn the girl and her common sense!//
"It doesn't matter, Mione, the Slytherins don't matter" answered Harry with finality in his voice "Any day now Voldemort will strike, and I will have to go out there and get killed: do you think that I have time to worry about what the Slytherins might think about us?"
"All bow down to the mighty Harry Potter and his worries, that are above those of us mere mortals!" snarled Ron, too angry to even realise how clever his comment sounded. "You might have to go and save the world, but I wasn't invited to that party, and I still must worry about school and friends, and other petty things like that, that you must obviously have forgotten about" Harry opened his mouth to answer, but thought better of it and closed it again, only fuelling Ron's anger further.
That was the moment Svetlana released her iron-grip on her daughter's robes; Siena, attracted by the noise of people and light, stumbled out of the dark corridor and into the study room where Harry and his friends were. After a convenient pause, Svetlana walked after her, smiling thinly to those assembled and appearing to have just come from the other side of the Library.
"Good morning, Mrs Snape" greeted Hermione respectfully; the witch answered coldly to hers and her friends' greetings, and went to pick Siena from her occupation of poking Hermione's bag with an abandoned quill.
"We were just leaving, weren't we, Mione? Good-bye, Mrs Snape" added Ron pointedly, taking Hermione's hand and forcefully dragging her away, although it must be said that she didn't put up much of a resistance, but instead gave Harry an apologetic look which the green-eyed boy chose to ignore.
"Yes, just leave when I need you the most" muttered Harry, out of his mind with anger; "I have more important things to do than cuddle you!" he spat. Svetlana dedicated him a *very* cold glare, which not only shut him up, but also brought him memories of the inappropriate hug at Mandy's funeral, and made him blush to no end. The Russian witch then nodded to no one in particular and left, feeling very satisfied with the result of her Memorius Charm: a few words muttered under her breath as Harry hugged her, and the boy had the memory imprinted in his mind for a long period of time, long enough to ensure that he thought there was more to the action that what met the eye. And when the charm wore off, the trauma picked up the torch.
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Severus Snape stirred a potion slowly and surely, marking every slight change of colour or smell, and waiting for the exact moment when the next ingredient should be added. He was angry, but he wouldn't let his foul mood interfere with the making of the Wolfsbane Potion for Lupin, who was bound to come the same afternoon looking for it.
But it wasn't the werewolf or his transformation what worried Snape. It was the early reading of The Daily Prophet and the news it brought to his doorstep what made him frown even when no Gryffindors were present. Another attack on a Muggle village, with an high, although yet undetermined, number of victims, and the murder of Mrs Nugyens, the wife of the DADA teacher, who had gone back to The Netherlands to prepare their return and had found death minutes after leaving the Portkey station. A clear warning to the refugees, who were looking more frightened than ever, huddling close to each other and dreading the dark corners of the school, and another blow to the ever-dwindling trust the wizarding community held in their Ministry and Aurors.
Adding a precisely measured spoonful of Mooncalf brain, Snape thought regretfully that he was bound to be summoned to a Death Eater meeting soon, since it had been almost three months since the last one. He was feeling extremely uncomfortable with his role ever since of lately, and he found it harder and harder to commit nameless monstrosities for the sake of not blowing his cover; if it wasn't because the information he gathered was vital (sometimes it was the only thing that kept the Order on its feet), he would have retired behind the walls of Hogwarts to wait until the storm blew itself out.
If it ever blew itself out instead of blowing down the castle, which was seeming more unlikely by the day. Supporters of the Dark Lord sprung forwards from the most unexpected places and the morale of the wizards fighting the every day battle was running low, most of them keeping in their posts out of inertia. //Why did I have to have that sudden bout of dignity in my younger years?// thought Snape with a twisted smile, as he leaned back to let the potion settle //If not for that one attack of conscience, I would still be a successful and triumphant member of the Inner Circle, seeing my glory days within reach. Instead now I'm hiding in the dungeons of a school, preparing myself for another day of risking my life for a pack of ungrateful fools// Innerly, Snape didn't really regret his turning to the Light Side, but he had to keep his sanity somehow.
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"Ron, please calm down, don't you see Harry is having a tough time?" pleaded Hermione out in the corridor; her red-headed boyfriend stood stubbornly in front of her, his arms crossed over his chest.
"We're not exactly at a picnic either, you know? It's not all about Harry, Mione, it can't always be that way….. you're important too, and deserve as much respect and protection as him, whether he's the Boy Who Lived or not!" Svetlana, who was standing behind the Library's door, privately thought that anger made Ron more intelligent.
"But Ron….." //If she starts with common sense, we'll lose it all//
"Miss Granger, can I talk to you for a minute?" interrupted Svetlana, signalling towards a small balcony not far away; the two students, too caught up in their discussion, hadn't heard the noise of incoming Slytherins, but Svetlana had.
Hermione agreed nervously, and followed Mrs Snape outside, leaving his fuming boyfriend alone with his anger, not a wise choice when Weasleys were involved. Svetlana gave a small smile to herself.
"I couldn't help but overhear a small part of the conversation you had with your friends at the Library" started the Russian witch, sitting on the stone bench with her daughter in her lap "and that made me think that maybe you're the person I need to talk to." Hermione stood expectantly, guessing by Svetlana's tone that it was important "I also want this conflict to end, but I just don't know how to go about it:" Svetlana heaved a deep sigh "I have no experience with inter-house rivalry, there were no such things at Beauxbottoms, and….. I have less influence over the Slytherins than I would like to have"
"Maybe Professor Snape, or Malfoy….." ventured Hermione, feeling as if her prayers had been answered: she had wished for a Slytherin interlocutor, and here was an impartial one.
"I have less influence over Professor Snape than I would like to have" //The first true thing, you've said during the whole conversation// "and I'm afraid that Mr Draco Malfoy is a lost cause; don't think I haven't tried already" Svetlana caressed Siena's hair softly, earning a squeal from the girl and a tender smile from Hermione. "But Slytherins say, and I am afraid is partly true, that not only they have been prosecuted and discriminated for most of Hogwarts' recent history, but that if they were to stop the hostilities, Gryffindors would consider the victory theirs; the Slytherin pride couldn't accept that"
"I do understand" accepted Hermione, leaning against the balustrade "But this is making it so hard for everyone….. the NEWTs are coming in a matter of months, but nobody is in a frame of mind to study; my two best friends are battling it out, and specially for Harry this is so difficult! He tries not to let it show, but every insult and every fight gets to him" The Head Girl was releasing all the worries she had kept bottled up for lack of a receptive ear "And I know Ron and me aren't there for him all the time, but he has also pushed us away during this last two years or so, only for our protection, yes, but it hurts Ron so badly too….."
"Speaking of which, I think there's something else that's hurting him" Svetlana stood up smartly and went into the corridor, where Ron was being surrounded by at least ten Slytherins, most of them third-years and younger; they hadn't resorted to physical actions yet, but they were insulting the Gryffindor for all they were worth, and already someone had gone to ask for reinforcements from the older students.
"Weasel, do tell me what it feels like to be the friend of the Boy Who Lived? After all, it's all you ever were" said a mocking girl from behind a larger friend; all the attackers laughed and closed in a step. Ron was very red in the face and holding his wand in a defensive stance, ready to strike if need be.
In that moment, the door to the Library opened and Harry stepped out; he almost stepped back in, but they had already seen him and he closed the door behind him.
"Hey, Scarhead, aren't you going to rescue your friend, *again*? He's obviously incapable of defending himself" tittered a Slytherin
"Of course he's not going to do anything, the Weasel is not worth it" answered another "Haven't you seen that Potter already abandoned him and the Mudblood?"
"Sorry, Weasel, looks like your on your own" Before Harry had time to contradict the Slytherin (which he was going to), Svetlana stepped in to leave the misunderstanding in the air.
"Slytherins, that is enough!" Her voice was cold and soft, and very effective; the Slytherin students stopped their jabs and their approach, and turned to look at her "Those of you who were going into the Library, go in there, those of you who weren't, go in there anyway, it's bound to do you some good"
They all silently complied, leaving a *very* angry Ron in front of Harry; suddenly, the anger was replaced by sadness and disappointment, and the red-head gave a last, hard look at his ex-best friend before walking off; Hermione took after him, her eyes full of tears, and Harry was left in the corridor with a horrible feeling of guilt hanging from his shoulders.
"That was a very stupid thing to do, Mr Potter" said Svetlana coldly "I do believe you might have just lost your best friend, and that is not very wise when you are going to need all your strength in the months to come"
With that final sentence, Svetlana glided off with her daughter in her arms. //Three birds. One stone. Dead. Or at least, mutilated//
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A/N: now, do me a favour and review, OK? I'm not above begging…..