Sry for the long wait everyone (I'm shocked I actually have fans, haha.)
And I'm stunned that so many of you see Snape and Sirius as being in
character. I'll try harder to disappoint ;)
*****Chapter 4: Curses, Conspiracies, and All That Good Stuff*****
Okay, so dinner finished rather quickly after the incident with Snape, and this time I was only mildly surprised when the leftovers disappeared from the table without a trace. Well, mildly surprised in comparison to when they had first arrived - I still felt my mouth open in shock when what seemed to be ten tons of turkey snapped into nonexistence before my eyes. The amount of food that had gone uneaten was probably enough to feed all of India for the next fifteen years.
Then Dumbledore stood up for a second time the hall once again fell silent immediately, only I still wasn't that thrilled at the thought of listening to a speech. At the moment I felt so warm and fuzzy that I just wanted to snooze right into oblivion.
Annoyingly enough, the man had a way of speaking that forced me to stay awake, so I sat there in a grumpy half-conscious state as he went over the usual school rules, dress code, out-of-bounds areas. . . oh, and the fact that there was some sort of "Dark Forest" where "painful death" met anyone who entered. Sounded suspiciously like J.R.R. Tolkien to me.
The end of his speech was really the only part that concerned me in any way, and that was a quick, "By the way, many of you have noticed the three new assets to our staff table - Professor Lupin I hope you all remember, he will be teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts this year. Sirius Black has been recruited to help Hagrid with his Care of Magical Creatures, seeing as there will be some rather formidable beasts in this year's program. I am very aware of his history, and know that Mr. Black has my full confidence." There was a murmur of discontent that went through the houses, and I couldn't help but wonder just what History Dumbledore was referring to. I sneaked a peek at Sirius and found his face closed and his eyes dead.
Very unnerving, to say the least - but he was still beautiful.
"Oh, and this charming young lady is Ms. Evelyn Jones, I expect you all to treat her with hospitality, seeing as she will be staying with us for a while. Now, off with you all, to bed!"
There was the general stir of bodies standing up, and I looked down the table, trying to catch Dumbledore's eye. Staying for a while? Wait, that wasn't part of the deal, was it? I thought this "sticky business" was supposed to be taken care of shortly!
Finally he glanced in my direction, his eyes twinkling and a merry smile on his face. He gave me a little wave, then turned around and strode off at a rather energetic pace for such an old guy. I slumped in my chair, supposing that my death-and-destruction look had lost its effect. Damn.
"Evelyn, dear, do come along now." I looked up and back to find McGonagall perched above me like some giant red bat, her fingers hooked on the top of the chair.
"Uh, right," I muttered, and made to stand up from the table. I was halfway to my feet - wow was I full - when a blast of pain through my arm rocked my world. I was so shocked that my lugs seized, a small whimper came from the back of my throat, and I toppled over sideways, grasping for anything that would keep me from hitting the floor or the table.
I grabbed something alright.
Too bad it was Snape.
My hand came in contact with his shoulder and I grabbed a fistful of robes, fighting valiantly for balance even as my arm felt like it was being split in two. The clothing was loose and ripped in my hand, and the next thing I knew I had my elbow on his inner thigh, one leg in the air, and my head against his rock solid abdomen. Oh yes, this boy definitely had some sort of a body beneath all the black.
I suppose I would've been mortified if I'd been able to think through the pain, but as it was all I could do was close my eyes, grit my teeth, and pray. Oh, and grab a hefty amount of his pant leg and squeeze. Above me there were voices shouting, movement everywhere, hands touching my back and even one on my ass. I assumed that was Sirius, God bless him.
The pain stopped almost as abruptly as it had started - one moment I was ready to throw up, the next I could suddenly breathe, and I felt as though nothing had happened at all. I froze in place, people still bustling around me and calling out to each other. I heard someone repeating over and over again "Get Madame Pomphrey!"
I didn't know who this Pomphrey lady was, or what her exact use in the situation would be, but at the moment I wasn't in the mood to find out. I was woozy, nauseous, disoriented, sweaty, and in the most awkward position I had ever-
Oh my God.
Abruptly I was standing up straight, caught between the two chairs and trying in vain to get away from the man before me. Snape was looking at me with those black, solid eyes - his expression a grim line that was utterly unreadable. My face was just about the same shade as a cherry, and I turned to look at the worried and somewhat fearful faces - there seemed to be a lot more of them than I remembered. Sirius was at the fore of the crowd, his hand on my arm, a look on his face of mingled concern and. . . no, just concern, I think I was imagining anything else I saw there.
"Out of the way, clear the way!" A bossy and commanding voice split up the crowd, or maybe it was the fact that the woman was shoving everyone out of the way. She burst out in front of me, her no-nonsense face flushed from her exertions, and her nurse's outfit screamingly familiar.
"Alright, Ms. Jones," she said, "where does it hurt?"
I stared at her, then gave her a nasty smile. "Actually, it doesn't anymore, thanks, but I'll be sure to tell you the next time I keel over in agony." I sighed, my mood not improving in any way. "Why don't you just get me to Dumbledore so we can get this business taken care of, I am getting rather sick of it!"
I had been expecting to hurt her feelings, or at least offend her, but she just gave me a sympathetic look instead. "I understand, dear - you're in a new place and all of this must seem rather strange of you. Minerva? I believe you should escort her to the Headmaster immediately."
"You're quite right, Poppy," McGonagall appeared, thank God, and continued to disperse the crowd. "Now now, professors, as you can see Ms. Jones is going to be quite all right. All of you should head off to your rooms; start of term is tomorrow, after all!"
There was the general grumbling of agreements and "Good Nights," and the teachers moved off. On sudden impulse I turned to the chair where Snape was with half the mind to apologize, or at least make some sort of redeeming gesture. Apparently he had decided to head off already, though, because the seat was deserted and his presence wasn't in the hall.
A hand grabbed mine, and I looked over to find Sirius still giving me that searching look. "You're sure you're okay?" He asked quietly.
I nodded stiffly and gave him a tight smile - I just did not understand the man. One moment he was detached and unsociable, the next he was soothing my ruffled feathers. What in hell was I missing here?
Thinking of ruffled feathers, my hand traveled to my hair and pushed it back. He mirrored the gesture with his free hand, and those black locks fell back into perfect place. "Listen," he grumbled. "If you need anything. . . just ask."
I need to kiss you again - but of course, I wasn't going to say that. I nodded once more, solemnly this time, then McGonagall hurrumphed and claimed my attention. "This way, Evelyn," she said, and began to walk off. I slipped my hand from Sirius's, feeling peculiarly mushy and dramatic, then started after her. Apparently she enjoyed walking fast, and so the entire march out of the hall and down several corridors I was barely able to keep up without running. Christ, was everyone around here always in a rush? I had moved out of the big city because I couldn't keep pace.
After traveling down what seemed to be a rather pointless maze of hallways, we arrived before a large and ridiculous appearing gargoyle. I stared at the statue for a moment, wondering why they would set such an ugly thing in the middle of a wall - it was a perfect waste of space as far as I was concerned.
Then I watched in amazement as McGonagall stepped up to the gargoyle and said quite clearly, "Gumdrop."
I had suspected the people around me were mad, but saying such a ridiculous thing to such a ridiculous statue was simply. . . well, you get the idea. I wasn't at all impressed. Actually I was looking for a way to subtly slip off - preferably to take Sirius up on that "help" offer and get the hell out of here - when the gargoyle gave out an alarming rumble. For a split second I thought the monstrosity was going to fall over on poor McGonagall and squish her into the carpet. Was it a completely appalling thought? No, to be frank. I'd be lying if I said I truly cared about what happened to anyone in this crazy place.
But oh no, my mistake, the gargoyle didn't just fall over. No, that would be far too normal. It stood up, jumped to one side, and made a slight bow before showing us a rather plain and unassuming door behind it. I just stared. Blinked.
Okay.
Minerva walked up to the door and opened it, then turned back and looked at me. "You'd be much more becoming with your mouth closed, Evelyn," she snipped. "Now hop to it, the Headmaster is waiting."
She made it sound so normal, a gargoyle hopping around and doors appearing out of walls. With a cocky shrug I walked over and through the door, then up a winding set of stairs. The bounce in my step was due more to my throbbing heart than actual confidence. By the time I left this place, I would have most likely lost about five years of my life due to shock and trauma. All of these surprises weren't doing my heart a favor - or my sanity, for that matter.
At the top of the stairs we ran into another plain door, probably the most normal thing I had ever seen, and without hesitation I opened it as I would any other door. Stepped through. Okay, this wasn't so bad, at least now I knew a little bit of what was going on around me. For some reason feeling slightly calmer, I stepped into the room beyond.
It was oval, on the small side, and the walls were crammed with portraits upon portraits of people who all seemed to be caught in a sleeping position. The way the light danced off of them from the low fire, it almost looked as though a few were breathing. I let out a breath - they're just paintings, Eevee, for God's sake calm down!
Before me was a rather unassuming desk made out of a rich wood and sat on a thick carpet that cushioned my weary feet. Upon the desk and surrounding shelves, however, were all sorts of shiny, fascinating trinkets that I hesitated to look at too closely. There were so many whirligigs and thingamabobs that I didn't know which direction to look first, or if I even wanted to look in a direction.
The door shut behind me, and I turned to find that McGonagall hadn't entered, but just shut me into the room. For a moment I grew uneasy - where was Dumbledore? Maybe this was some sort of intricate kidnapping plot and someone was going to ransom me off in order to get my money. Ransom me of to who, exactly? Frankly, I don't think anyone would care if I suddenly dropped off the face of the earth; which, to tell the truth, wasn't the most heartening thought. After a moment I gave myself a mental slap. Of course I wasn't about to be kidnapped, what kind of an idiot was I? And why the hell was my mind still trying to rationalize things?
I shook my head at my own confusion and turned back to the desk.
"Holy-!"
Dumbledore sat there, a politely bemused smile on his face, his hands clasped before him. Those baby blues twinkled at me for a moment before he motioned to a rather overstuffed armchair in front of me. "Do have a seat, Eevee," he said kindly. "You look tired - I'll try not to keep you long."
I eyed him, unsure whether I could trust and old man who just appeared out of nowhere, then I slowly walked around and settled myself into the chair. Took a deep breath to steady my nerves.
My this was comfortable. I hadn't expected the seat to be quite this soft, the arm rests to fit my arms so nicely. My body was exhausted from the day, not to mention my mind, and at the moment I thought a nice snooze would be just the ticket.
"Now, Eevee, to discuss why exactly you're here."
My eyes snapped open, and I knew they would be a deep blue in the light of the fire. This was what I had come to hear - I needed to know just what Dumbledore wanted with me. Thank God I didn't have to socially beat around the bush.
He had paused in silence, studying me, and I tried to be patient. Truly, I did. But at the moment I wanted to reach across the table, grab the old geezer by the neck of his spiffy robes, and demand some sort of explanation.
But something about his expression stopped me, and I swallowed my pressuring questions with a slightly sickening gulp. Then I turned to study his shelves for lack of anything better to do, glancing over the doo- hickies and trinkets. . . and the dilapidated old bird that sat hunched over in a miserable heap.
In shock I stared at the poor creature, looking at its dropping feathers that were falling to the floor in all manner of patterns. The skin beneath was gray and ill, the eyes dull and cloudy, even the beak seemed to have a sad droop to it. Immediately my heart went out to the creature. I was an animal fanatic, sad to say - I loved everything from mice to elephants, discluding spiders, bats, and snakes. This bird just seemed to need a friend, someone to care for it properly. I resisted the urge to shoot Dumbledore a murderous look.
As though sensing my thoughts (I wouldn't have been surprised if I was muttering them under my breath), the bird looked up and blinked at me tiredly, then wobbled on its perch. With a sickly "urp," of greeting, it hopped awkwardly from its perch and half fluttered, half fell towards me. On instinct I reached out my hands, catching the beast at the last moment and pulling it into my lap. Unconsciously stroking the wrinkly head as it made little coo's of contentment.
It was only then that I remembered Dumbledore's words and looked up at him, my eyes narrowed and demands in my throat. Once again they were stopped in surprise, for the old man was staring at me with those twinkling peepers, his face all soft and a warm smile on his face.
"Well, my dear, looks like Fawkes has taken a liking to you!"
I blinked at him. "Fawkes?"
"Why yes, the bird in your lap. . . he's a Phoenix, you know."
I looked down at the creature again - it just looked like some sort of tropical bird to me. . . albeit extremely old and tired and maybe malnourished. Funny, but I had always imagined a Phoenix as having beautiful red and gold plumage, being a lot larger, and somehow more. . . well, just more. Time to change the subject.
"So why am I here, Dumbledore?" I shot at him, looking up and meeting his eyes again. "Why did you send me that letter, and why the hell does my arm keep hurting?"
His face had darkened and saddened at my words. For the first time I felt fear touch me - not insecurity at not knowing where I was, not confusion or annoyance. No: real, gut tickling, heart pumping, nauseating fear. Something was really, really wrong.
"Dumbledore?" I pressed, but my voice died halfway through.
"Why you're here, Eevee. . . is quite a sticky business."
"So you've said."
He sighed this time, and his old, withered hands rubbed over his face. "Let's start at the beginning, then. Eevee, in this world, there are good wizards and bad wizards."
I snorted softly, but waited for him to continue.
"Now, about fifteen years ago, an incredibly evil wizard came into power. His name - which is not spoken now, mind you - was Lord Voldemort. . . and he had, ah, certain supporters."
I nodded. It was like terrorism in the US, but based on a bunch of wizards and magical stuff. Gotcha. I frowned though in thought, a piece missing from the picture. "Wait, why was he so evil?" I murmured.
Dumbledore had seemed to be waiting for this question. "Voldemort thought that only full blooded wizards should learn magic, not half bloods, not those who marry Muggles. . . and he thought Muggles themselves should be exterminated."
Uh-oh. I was starting to see the whole picture now - this guy wasn't just a terrorist to the wizard world, he was a threat to us decent, normal people too. I have to admit I had grown interested in the tale.
"So. . . what happened?" I couldn't help but ask.
"Voldemort disappeared mysteriously roughly fifteen years ago after an encounter with Sirius's godson, Harry. Somehow Harry, a one year old baby at the time, managed to defeat the most powerful wizard the world has seen."
I let out a snort of laughter, unable to help myself. And to think I had actually been building for a climax! The most powerful wizard in the world defeated by a mere infant? Ha, some wizard. I probably could've taken him.
I was about to crack a joke about it when I caught Dumbledore's stern expression, and the laughter died in my throat. Apparently someone wasn't amused.
"Voldemort killed thousands with a wave of his wand, Evelyn," the old man's voice was quiet and all too serious. "Harry's parents were killed, hundreds of friends of mine were taken out or joined with him, becoming his loyal Death Eaters. There's not a day that goes by that I thank whatever force gave us Harry, and let us defeat him."
I felt like a guilty child. Embarrassed at my desensitized reaction, I scuffed my toes against the carpet and continued to pet the "Phoenix" in my arms. The room was silent again, and for a moment I thought Dumbledore might actually be mad at me, then I glanced up at him and found him standing up and playing with one of the oddments on his shelves. I almost fell out of my chair in shock, and gave a jolt that made poor Fawkes squawk indignantly.
I winced as my arm tingled. "So. . . what does all of this have to do with me, exactly?"
Dumbledore turned to look at me, still holding an strangely shaped metal object. "You parents, Eevee. . ." he said slowly, as though he had been rehearsing this for a long time. "Are wizarding folk. Or were, actually."
Boom.
It hit me like a bolt of thunder. A cliched phrase, perhaps, but holy God in Heaven, my PARENTS were WHAT???
"Wizards," Dumbledore supplied helpfully, and I hadn't realized I had spoken aloud. Or stood up, for that matter.
"I think I misheard you," I said slowly, my mind spitting out the information like bad champagne. Then I let out a nervous laugh. "I could have sworn you just said my parents were wizards, which - haha! - would be impossible because that would make ME a wizard - or a witch, I guess - and obviously I'm NOT-"
Dumbledore was watching me with a sickeningly sympathetic expression, and that - accompanied by Fawkes' complaints - made me shut up. I looked at him with suddenly wary eyes, my heart hammering, my head dangerously light. "I'm not a witch, am I?" My voice was hoarse.
"No," he sighed, and I almost fainted right then and there out of relief. "You're not a witch, Eevee, and that's why your parents shunted you away. They were an old wizarding family, indescribably wealthy, and you - their only daughter - was nonmagical. So they got rid of you."
I sat down, hard. Fawkes let out another alarmed caw, then settled down again almost immediately. I could feel my mouth opening, but strangely enough my voice wouldn't work. Finally I cleared my throat and tried to speak.
"But. . . but. . ." was all that came out.
"Your parents were supporters of Voldemort, Evelyn," Dumbledore's voice was soft and somehow soothing, an anchor in this crazy vortex that had become my life. "Their fortune was left to you - but promised to him if you were to die, and Evelyn. . . he is in great need of money."
I gaped. So some magical mad man was after my wealth? I thought this kind of stuff only happened in America!
"Wait," I said, the full situation making itself known. "He's trying to kill me?"
Dumbledore looked at me hard, and nodded. I stared at him in shock, my mind turning around in dizzying circles and scrabbling for a sense of reality. Finally I came up with a plausible argument as to why none of this was true. "Then why didn't he come for me earlier? Why didn't he just try to kill me while I was alone and defenseless in the great US, huh? Why did he wait until I was here, in jolly old England, before you all decided to abduct me-?"
"You were safe in the states, Eevee," Dumbledore said calmly. "At least for the time being, there you were unreachable, we had knowledge of your whereabouts, had tabs on you, so to speak-"
"You SPIED on me???" I asked in horror, picturing someone taking photos of me as I took a shower, or walked around in my house naked, or did other such exposing things.
"No, my dear, we looked out for your well being," he assured me.
He could rationalize it all he wanted to, it was still spying. I folded my arms across my chest and sat back, unsure of why I was so upset by this. Hell, apparently they had been saving my life - as though I believed a word of what he was saying!
But, sadly enough, I did.
I don't know why, but some part of me was sure it was true and all made sense in some strange, fantasy story way.
God help me.
"So then I came here," stating what any idiot could've deduced. "Here where he lives, and right into his clutches. Wait-" I was having an epiphany. "-The explosion in the train station, that was. . . ?"
Dumbledore nodded.
"So it wasn't terrorists?"
"His people are the terrorists, Eevee, slowly killing off important wizards and making it look like Muggle bombing."
I sat there in silence, struggling with this, feeling as though I was trying to swallow a watermelon. Why was it so hard to just accept what he was telling me and go from there? Oh yeah, common sense.
Screw common sense, I just saw a gargoyle jump around fifteen minutes ago, and before that I fell through a wall that wasn't a wall! Common sense and all its relatives, such as sanity, reasoning, and the laws of nature, did not belong in this world. Hell, I didn't even belong in this world!
"So I'm not a wizard," I muttered, "but my parents were, and now there's some evil guy trying to kill me 'cause I'm rich. I suppose life is just peachy, isn't it?"
Dumbledore's face stretched into what might have been a smile, and he straightened his spectacles studiously. "You're not a witch, Eevee, but we have reason to believe that-"
"SQUAWK!!!" FOOM!!!
"Oh my fucking God!!!"
The bird, which had been snoring peacefully in my lap, suddenly let out a horrible shriek and burst into flames.
I don't know what I said after that exactly, some nagging suspicion kept me thinking that it wasn't very polite, and the next thing I knew I was running around the room like an idiot with my shirt and pants on fire.
"Oh dear," I heard Dumbledore murmur. Then he whipped out his wand and did a neat little wave before declaring something in Latin.
I continue my acrobatics, even though now the fire was gone. "Oh my God, oh my God!" I screamed. "I hate this place, I hate you people, and I hate that stupid bird! What the hell is the problem? Haven't you ever heard of canaries or parrots or something - what the hell are you doing with a goddamned Phoenix in your office! And why in hell did it just explode on me?!"
I continued to rant my frustrations - why the devil did this have to happen to me? I hated everything around me; I wanted my old life back, where there were rules and guidelines and, well, common sense! I was pretty close to just collapsing on the floor in a heap of tears when the sound of the door opening stopped me in mid leap. I caught my balance on the edge of the chair, winced when I heard my cuss words still ringing around the walls, and turned with Dumbledore to see who had interrupted this little party.
Oh Lord.
It was Snape.
"You sent for me, Headmaster?" He said in silky tones, his face blank with the slight shadow of a smirk around his lips.
I went stock still and tried not to stare at him. Suddenly quite flustered that I had been acting in such a way, I turned back to Dumbledore's desk and looked pointedly downward at the chair I had formerly occupied. Stared. Quite a younger, smaller version of Fawkes was looking back up at me with wide, curious eyes - there was a tiny pile of ashes upon his head which reminded me strangely of a dunce cap.
"Why yes, Severus, do come in," Dumbledore beckoned to him, and the door shut with a neat little click. I resisted the urge to look, but felt the skin prickle up on my right side as he stood next to me. The office was so small that there was barely enough room for me standing up behind my chair, so to say the least, we were in a wonderfully close proximity.
Er, did I say wonderfully close? I mean aesthetically close. The man smelled great, I'm sorry, but it's the truth - something of a mix between old spice and pine trees. Oh, and a few fumes from what I assumed to be the potions lab, but it was still an amazing scent to my overly sensitized nose. Wow. I could get used to this.
"I'd ask you to sit, Severus, but Fawkes had a bit of an accident on the chair," Dumbledore said conversationally, the twinkle of laughter in his eye.
"So I heard," Snape said snidely. "But with much regret, I must decline any further chit chat and ask you what it is you need. I am in the middle of researching quite a challenging potion that I might just give my fifth years within a week."
"Oh yes, so sorry Severus. Hm. I believe we have a bit of an issue with Ms. Jones's arm."
"My what?" I said in surprise, then looked down at the limb that had pained me so much just a short time before. It seemed so innocent now - surely it hadn't hurt as bad as I remembered.
"Indeed," Severus - I mean, Snape murmured. "And what do you wish me to do about it?"
"She has been hit by a rather unusual curse cast by one of the Death Eaters - I'd love to assist, but I really have no clue as to what caused her to have such a reaction in the first place."
I stared at the old man, my hand unconsciously going to my arm and feathering over it. "Y-y-you don't?" I asked uncertainly.
"No, my dear," he said sadly. "Which is why I brought up Severus. He may be able to help cure you."
"Ah, Headmaster. . . if I may suggest. . ." Snape murmured once again in his silky tones. "Wouldn't Madame Pomphrey be better suited to this task? She is, after all, the school nurse."
"This, I'm sorry to say, Severus," Dumbledore stated clearly, "is quite out of Poppy's league. She specializes in broken bones, childish hexes, illness, poisons of the flesh. . . this, I believe, goes deeper than that."
I was shocked, an emotion I was becoming quite accustomed to. "What do you mean, 'deeper than that'?" I said angrily, suddenly scared. "You mean you can't cure it? You don't even know what it is?"
Dumbledore gave me another piteous look, and shook his head. I swallowed hard, the incident with Fawkes and all else now forgotten. "I'm sorry, my dear, but I have never seen a reaction to the curse as you have shown, and Severus does have. . . er, extensive knowledge of the Dark Lord's tricks and healing potions that may be effective. I will, of course, be doing all I can to find some way to cure your injury, but I don't know if I'm the most capable at the moment."
We all stood in silence for a moment, my mind racing, my breathing fast and short. What if it was some sort of cancer? What if it was deadly, like a disease or something, and I wouldn't survive? What if, what if, what if! God, I was going to go insane if I didn't get some answers!
This thought in mind, and an awful lot of built up temper, I whirled on Snape and thrust my arm at him. "Well?" I said bossily, admittedly acting the bitch. "Let's hop to it, what do you think? Have you ever seen anything like this before?"
Snape gazed at me blankly for a moment, God only knew what kind of thoughts were moving past those dark eyes, then he wordlessly looked down at my arm. With startlingly elegant and graceful hands, he grabbed the sleeve of my plaid jacket and began rolling it up carefully. I got the feeling that he handled potion jars with the same amount of delicacy.
Then my lower arm was exposed, and my mouth dropped open. Before it had been a few black lines, admittedly alarming, but crisscrossing close to my wrist. Now they appeared to have spread upwards by a good couple of inches and widened out, splotching the pale skin in sickening patterns. I stared at the limb, horror struck, unable to believe that this was my own arm I was staring at. Holy cow, hadn't this been the same limb that had been so clean this morning?
Shit, it had only been a day? It felt like a goddamned year!
"Hm," was Snape's response. "Interesting, Headmaster, but I have never seen the like of it before. I'm afraid I can't be of any help in this situation."
My eyes rose to look at his politely blank features, and I knew my fear showed naked across my face. Fear at the thought that this curse, this black stuff that seemed to be spreading up my skin, might kill me. God, I might die.
But I was rich, I couldn't die yet! I hadn't even begun to live!
Snape's dark eyes met mine, solid, flat, emotionless. Something flickered in those depths, or at least I thought it did, but it died too quickly before I could be sure. Once again that shudder went through me at just how close he was standing, and I realized he had that graceful, long fingered hand on my wrist, the other supporting my elbow.
I pulled my arm away, my heart suddenly pounding, fighting to keep the flush from my cheeks. God, the last thing I needed was some kind of attraction going on between me and the pariah of Hogwarts!
Dumbledore was staring at me with a peculiar look on his face, and I stared back at him, each of us studying the other. Finally he turned thoughtfully to Snape and clasped his hands again. "Severus, I want you to work with Ms. Jones in the evenings after dinner for half an hour every night until you find a cure, or at least some information, about this peculiar curse."
Snape winced slightly, and that dark, silky voice spoke again. "But Headmaster, the school year is starting tomorrow, I shall be most busy. . ."
"Nonsense, Severus, too busy for a good deed? Why, that doesn't sound like you at all!"
Truth to tell, I thought Snape would run screaming in the other direction if he happened to spot anything even remotely related to a "good deed."
"Headmaster, if it was any other time, I'd be honored-"
"Honored, huh?" I cut through the crap. "I suppose you're just too self centered to care about my life, or probably the life of everyone else, huh? No, I could see through you from the first, Professor," okay, now I was just improvising, but it sounded damn impressive. "I knew you were a loner, it's so obvious! Headmaster-" I turned to Dumbledore, "-I demand that you assign me someone else, this man is not competent!"
Dumbledore's eyes twinkled for a moment, then his face became deadly serious. "Professor Snape is the best we have, Eevee. I'm sure you'll find-"
"That's a load of bull!" I snapped. "He doesn't want to help me because he knows he can't, and doesn't want to waste time giving it a try!"
I glanced at Snape, and judging by his murderous expression, my tactics were working. It was survival instinct, pure and simple. Dumbledore thought the man could help me, and strangely enough I trusted the old geezer. So therefore I must trust his judgments, though I was having some serious doubts. I turned to face Snape full on and gave him back one of his sneers. "Too busy pushing away to help someone in need, eh Professor?"
There was a deep, deadly silence in the room. I taunted that last line in front of his nose, dangling it like a carrot, and finally, FINALLY, I got a reaction out of him.
"Ms. Jones," he said icily. "I don't know who you are or where you came from, but no one addresses me in such a fashion."
I cocked an eyebrow. "My, cocky aren't we?" I murmured.
Was that a pink tinge in his cheeks? If it was, it was sure to be caused by pure rage. Dammit, had I pushed too far? Maybe I should step back over the line before I ended up tripping myself. We kept the staring contest going for what seemed like hours, though it was probably only half a minute. Then he glared extra hard, turned to Dumbledore, and said while stiffly ignoring me, "Tomorrow evening I shall be busy, Headmaster, but in the evenings afterwards I should be free. If you will have someone show Ms. Jones the way to my dungeons, I'll be happy to assist her. Seeing as I am extremely busy, I shall bid you good night."
"Good night, Severus," Dumbledore acknowledged with an idle wave. Snape nodded in return, turned smartly, and marched out the door. It snapped shut with a tension that was almost palpable.
I turned to look at Dumbledore, and only then let out the monstrous yawn I had been holding back. The Headmaster smiled. "Well done, my girl, excellently played."
I smiled a little in embarrassment. "I have no idea what you're talking about, Dumbledore," I murmured. "Snape is obviously the most stuck up, insensitive son of a bitch I have ever met."
Dumbledore simply chuckled. "We'll see. The clock says its late, my dear girl, and there is school tomorrow. I'll have Minerva show you to your room and get you situated, then tomorrow morning if you'll report to the Great Hall, I'll give you a list of activities you may do to keep yourself occupied during your stay."
I beamed at the old man. "Thank you," I managed through a yawn.
"Minerva should be waiting outside, dear," he said gently.
I nodded, then turned to leave. "Good night, Fawkes," I muttered as an afterthought, and got a chirp in reply. For a moment I glanced up at the portraits again only to pause. Several seemed to be sitting up now, wide awake with expression of interest on their faces. A few even seemed to be whispering to each other!
Huh, I must be getting really tired - I could've sworn they had all been sleeping when I'd come in. Thinking that my mind was finally losing it, I stepped out of the office.
*****Chapter 4: Curses, Conspiracies, and All That Good Stuff*****
Okay, so dinner finished rather quickly after the incident with Snape, and this time I was only mildly surprised when the leftovers disappeared from the table without a trace. Well, mildly surprised in comparison to when they had first arrived - I still felt my mouth open in shock when what seemed to be ten tons of turkey snapped into nonexistence before my eyes. The amount of food that had gone uneaten was probably enough to feed all of India for the next fifteen years.
Then Dumbledore stood up for a second time the hall once again fell silent immediately, only I still wasn't that thrilled at the thought of listening to a speech. At the moment I felt so warm and fuzzy that I just wanted to snooze right into oblivion.
Annoyingly enough, the man had a way of speaking that forced me to stay awake, so I sat there in a grumpy half-conscious state as he went over the usual school rules, dress code, out-of-bounds areas. . . oh, and the fact that there was some sort of "Dark Forest" where "painful death" met anyone who entered. Sounded suspiciously like J.R.R. Tolkien to me.
The end of his speech was really the only part that concerned me in any way, and that was a quick, "By the way, many of you have noticed the three new assets to our staff table - Professor Lupin I hope you all remember, he will be teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts this year. Sirius Black has been recruited to help Hagrid with his Care of Magical Creatures, seeing as there will be some rather formidable beasts in this year's program. I am very aware of his history, and know that Mr. Black has my full confidence." There was a murmur of discontent that went through the houses, and I couldn't help but wonder just what History Dumbledore was referring to. I sneaked a peek at Sirius and found his face closed and his eyes dead.
Very unnerving, to say the least - but he was still beautiful.
"Oh, and this charming young lady is Ms. Evelyn Jones, I expect you all to treat her with hospitality, seeing as she will be staying with us for a while. Now, off with you all, to bed!"
There was the general stir of bodies standing up, and I looked down the table, trying to catch Dumbledore's eye. Staying for a while? Wait, that wasn't part of the deal, was it? I thought this "sticky business" was supposed to be taken care of shortly!
Finally he glanced in my direction, his eyes twinkling and a merry smile on his face. He gave me a little wave, then turned around and strode off at a rather energetic pace for such an old guy. I slumped in my chair, supposing that my death-and-destruction look had lost its effect. Damn.
"Evelyn, dear, do come along now." I looked up and back to find McGonagall perched above me like some giant red bat, her fingers hooked on the top of the chair.
"Uh, right," I muttered, and made to stand up from the table. I was halfway to my feet - wow was I full - when a blast of pain through my arm rocked my world. I was so shocked that my lugs seized, a small whimper came from the back of my throat, and I toppled over sideways, grasping for anything that would keep me from hitting the floor or the table.
I grabbed something alright.
Too bad it was Snape.
My hand came in contact with his shoulder and I grabbed a fistful of robes, fighting valiantly for balance even as my arm felt like it was being split in two. The clothing was loose and ripped in my hand, and the next thing I knew I had my elbow on his inner thigh, one leg in the air, and my head against his rock solid abdomen. Oh yes, this boy definitely had some sort of a body beneath all the black.
I suppose I would've been mortified if I'd been able to think through the pain, but as it was all I could do was close my eyes, grit my teeth, and pray. Oh, and grab a hefty amount of his pant leg and squeeze. Above me there were voices shouting, movement everywhere, hands touching my back and even one on my ass. I assumed that was Sirius, God bless him.
The pain stopped almost as abruptly as it had started - one moment I was ready to throw up, the next I could suddenly breathe, and I felt as though nothing had happened at all. I froze in place, people still bustling around me and calling out to each other. I heard someone repeating over and over again "Get Madame Pomphrey!"
I didn't know who this Pomphrey lady was, or what her exact use in the situation would be, but at the moment I wasn't in the mood to find out. I was woozy, nauseous, disoriented, sweaty, and in the most awkward position I had ever-
Oh my God.
Abruptly I was standing up straight, caught between the two chairs and trying in vain to get away from the man before me. Snape was looking at me with those black, solid eyes - his expression a grim line that was utterly unreadable. My face was just about the same shade as a cherry, and I turned to look at the worried and somewhat fearful faces - there seemed to be a lot more of them than I remembered. Sirius was at the fore of the crowd, his hand on my arm, a look on his face of mingled concern and. . . no, just concern, I think I was imagining anything else I saw there.
"Out of the way, clear the way!" A bossy and commanding voice split up the crowd, or maybe it was the fact that the woman was shoving everyone out of the way. She burst out in front of me, her no-nonsense face flushed from her exertions, and her nurse's outfit screamingly familiar.
"Alright, Ms. Jones," she said, "where does it hurt?"
I stared at her, then gave her a nasty smile. "Actually, it doesn't anymore, thanks, but I'll be sure to tell you the next time I keel over in agony." I sighed, my mood not improving in any way. "Why don't you just get me to Dumbledore so we can get this business taken care of, I am getting rather sick of it!"
I had been expecting to hurt her feelings, or at least offend her, but she just gave me a sympathetic look instead. "I understand, dear - you're in a new place and all of this must seem rather strange of you. Minerva? I believe you should escort her to the Headmaster immediately."
"You're quite right, Poppy," McGonagall appeared, thank God, and continued to disperse the crowd. "Now now, professors, as you can see Ms. Jones is going to be quite all right. All of you should head off to your rooms; start of term is tomorrow, after all!"
There was the general grumbling of agreements and "Good Nights," and the teachers moved off. On sudden impulse I turned to the chair where Snape was with half the mind to apologize, or at least make some sort of redeeming gesture. Apparently he had decided to head off already, though, because the seat was deserted and his presence wasn't in the hall.
A hand grabbed mine, and I looked over to find Sirius still giving me that searching look. "You're sure you're okay?" He asked quietly.
I nodded stiffly and gave him a tight smile - I just did not understand the man. One moment he was detached and unsociable, the next he was soothing my ruffled feathers. What in hell was I missing here?
Thinking of ruffled feathers, my hand traveled to my hair and pushed it back. He mirrored the gesture with his free hand, and those black locks fell back into perfect place. "Listen," he grumbled. "If you need anything. . . just ask."
I need to kiss you again - but of course, I wasn't going to say that. I nodded once more, solemnly this time, then McGonagall hurrumphed and claimed my attention. "This way, Evelyn," she said, and began to walk off. I slipped my hand from Sirius's, feeling peculiarly mushy and dramatic, then started after her. Apparently she enjoyed walking fast, and so the entire march out of the hall and down several corridors I was barely able to keep up without running. Christ, was everyone around here always in a rush? I had moved out of the big city because I couldn't keep pace.
After traveling down what seemed to be a rather pointless maze of hallways, we arrived before a large and ridiculous appearing gargoyle. I stared at the statue for a moment, wondering why they would set such an ugly thing in the middle of a wall - it was a perfect waste of space as far as I was concerned.
Then I watched in amazement as McGonagall stepped up to the gargoyle and said quite clearly, "Gumdrop."
I had suspected the people around me were mad, but saying such a ridiculous thing to such a ridiculous statue was simply. . . well, you get the idea. I wasn't at all impressed. Actually I was looking for a way to subtly slip off - preferably to take Sirius up on that "help" offer and get the hell out of here - when the gargoyle gave out an alarming rumble. For a split second I thought the monstrosity was going to fall over on poor McGonagall and squish her into the carpet. Was it a completely appalling thought? No, to be frank. I'd be lying if I said I truly cared about what happened to anyone in this crazy place.
But oh no, my mistake, the gargoyle didn't just fall over. No, that would be far too normal. It stood up, jumped to one side, and made a slight bow before showing us a rather plain and unassuming door behind it. I just stared. Blinked.
Okay.
Minerva walked up to the door and opened it, then turned back and looked at me. "You'd be much more becoming with your mouth closed, Evelyn," she snipped. "Now hop to it, the Headmaster is waiting."
She made it sound so normal, a gargoyle hopping around and doors appearing out of walls. With a cocky shrug I walked over and through the door, then up a winding set of stairs. The bounce in my step was due more to my throbbing heart than actual confidence. By the time I left this place, I would have most likely lost about five years of my life due to shock and trauma. All of these surprises weren't doing my heart a favor - or my sanity, for that matter.
At the top of the stairs we ran into another plain door, probably the most normal thing I had ever seen, and without hesitation I opened it as I would any other door. Stepped through. Okay, this wasn't so bad, at least now I knew a little bit of what was going on around me. For some reason feeling slightly calmer, I stepped into the room beyond.
It was oval, on the small side, and the walls were crammed with portraits upon portraits of people who all seemed to be caught in a sleeping position. The way the light danced off of them from the low fire, it almost looked as though a few were breathing. I let out a breath - they're just paintings, Eevee, for God's sake calm down!
Before me was a rather unassuming desk made out of a rich wood and sat on a thick carpet that cushioned my weary feet. Upon the desk and surrounding shelves, however, were all sorts of shiny, fascinating trinkets that I hesitated to look at too closely. There were so many whirligigs and thingamabobs that I didn't know which direction to look first, or if I even wanted to look in a direction.
The door shut behind me, and I turned to find that McGonagall hadn't entered, but just shut me into the room. For a moment I grew uneasy - where was Dumbledore? Maybe this was some sort of intricate kidnapping plot and someone was going to ransom me off in order to get my money. Ransom me of to who, exactly? Frankly, I don't think anyone would care if I suddenly dropped off the face of the earth; which, to tell the truth, wasn't the most heartening thought. After a moment I gave myself a mental slap. Of course I wasn't about to be kidnapped, what kind of an idiot was I? And why the hell was my mind still trying to rationalize things?
I shook my head at my own confusion and turned back to the desk.
"Holy-!"
Dumbledore sat there, a politely bemused smile on his face, his hands clasped before him. Those baby blues twinkled at me for a moment before he motioned to a rather overstuffed armchair in front of me. "Do have a seat, Eevee," he said kindly. "You look tired - I'll try not to keep you long."
I eyed him, unsure whether I could trust and old man who just appeared out of nowhere, then I slowly walked around and settled myself into the chair. Took a deep breath to steady my nerves.
My this was comfortable. I hadn't expected the seat to be quite this soft, the arm rests to fit my arms so nicely. My body was exhausted from the day, not to mention my mind, and at the moment I thought a nice snooze would be just the ticket.
"Now, Eevee, to discuss why exactly you're here."
My eyes snapped open, and I knew they would be a deep blue in the light of the fire. This was what I had come to hear - I needed to know just what Dumbledore wanted with me. Thank God I didn't have to socially beat around the bush.
He had paused in silence, studying me, and I tried to be patient. Truly, I did. But at the moment I wanted to reach across the table, grab the old geezer by the neck of his spiffy robes, and demand some sort of explanation.
But something about his expression stopped me, and I swallowed my pressuring questions with a slightly sickening gulp. Then I turned to study his shelves for lack of anything better to do, glancing over the doo- hickies and trinkets. . . and the dilapidated old bird that sat hunched over in a miserable heap.
In shock I stared at the poor creature, looking at its dropping feathers that were falling to the floor in all manner of patterns. The skin beneath was gray and ill, the eyes dull and cloudy, even the beak seemed to have a sad droop to it. Immediately my heart went out to the creature. I was an animal fanatic, sad to say - I loved everything from mice to elephants, discluding spiders, bats, and snakes. This bird just seemed to need a friend, someone to care for it properly. I resisted the urge to shoot Dumbledore a murderous look.
As though sensing my thoughts (I wouldn't have been surprised if I was muttering them under my breath), the bird looked up and blinked at me tiredly, then wobbled on its perch. With a sickly "urp," of greeting, it hopped awkwardly from its perch and half fluttered, half fell towards me. On instinct I reached out my hands, catching the beast at the last moment and pulling it into my lap. Unconsciously stroking the wrinkly head as it made little coo's of contentment.
It was only then that I remembered Dumbledore's words and looked up at him, my eyes narrowed and demands in my throat. Once again they were stopped in surprise, for the old man was staring at me with those twinkling peepers, his face all soft and a warm smile on his face.
"Well, my dear, looks like Fawkes has taken a liking to you!"
I blinked at him. "Fawkes?"
"Why yes, the bird in your lap. . . he's a Phoenix, you know."
I looked down at the creature again - it just looked like some sort of tropical bird to me. . . albeit extremely old and tired and maybe malnourished. Funny, but I had always imagined a Phoenix as having beautiful red and gold plumage, being a lot larger, and somehow more. . . well, just more. Time to change the subject.
"So why am I here, Dumbledore?" I shot at him, looking up and meeting his eyes again. "Why did you send me that letter, and why the hell does my arm keep hurting?"
His face had darkened and saddened at my words. For the first time I felt fear touch me - not insecurity at not knowing where I was, not confusion or annoyance. No: real, gut tickling, heart pumping, nauseating fear. Something was really, really wrong.
"Dumbledore?" I pressed, but my voice died halfway through.
"Why you're here, Eevee. . . is quite a sticky business."
"So you've said."
He sighed this time, and his old, withered hands rubbed over his face. "Let's start at the beginning, then. Eevee, in this world, there are good wizards and bad wizards."
I snorted softly, but waited for him to continue.
"Now, about fifteen years ago, an incredibly evil wizard came into power. His name - which is not spoken now, mind you - was Lord Voldemort. . . and he had, ah, certain supporters."
I nodded. It was like terrorism in the US, but based on a bunch of wizards and magical stuff. Gotcha. I frowned though in thought, a piece missing from the picture. "Wait, why was he so evil?" I murmured.
Dumbledore had seemed to be waiting for this question. "Voldemort thought that only full blooded wizards should learn magic, not half bloods, not those who marry Muggles. . . and he thought Muggles themselves should be exterminated."
Uh-oh. I was starting to see the whole picture now - this guy wasn't just a terrorist to the wizard world, he was a threat to us decent, normal people too. I have to admit I had grown interested in the tale.
"So. . . what happened?" I couldn't help but ask.
"Voldemort disappeared mysteriously roughly fifteen years ago after an encounter with Sirius's godson, Harry. Somehow Harry, a one year old baby at the time, managed to defeat the most powerful wizard the world has seen."
I let out a snort of laughter, unable to help myself. And to think I had actually been building for a climax! The most powerful wizard in the world defeated by a mere infant? Ha, some wizard. I probably could've taken him.
I was about to crack a joke about it when I caught Dumbledore's stern expression, and the laughter died in my throat. Apparently someone wasn't amused.
"Voldemort killed thousands with a wave of his wand, Evelyn," the old man's voice was quiet and all too serious. "Harry's parents were killed, hundreds of friends of mine were taken out or joined with him, becoming his loyal Death Eaters. There's not a day that goes by that I thank whatever force gave us Harry, and let us defeat him."
I felt like a guilty child. Embarrassed at my desensitized reaction, I scuffed my toes against the carpet and continued to pet the "Phoenix" in my arms. The room was silent again, and for a moment I thought Dumbledore might actually be mad at me, then I glanced up at him and found him standing up and playing with one of the oddments on his shelves. I almost fell out of my chair in shock, and gave a jolt that made poor Fawkes squawk indignantly.
I winced as my arm tingled. "So. . . what does all of this have to do with me, exactly?"
Dumbledore turned to look at me, still holding an strangely shaped metal object. "You parents, Eevee. . ." he said slowly, as though he had been rehearsing this for a long time. "Are wizarding folk. Or were, actually."
Boom.
It hit me like a bolt of thunder. A cliched phrase, perhaps, but holy God in Heaven, my PARENTS were WHAT???
"Wizards," Dumbledore supplied helpfully, and I hadn't realized I had spoken aloud. Or stood up, for that matter.
"I think I misheard you," I said slowly, my mind spitting out the information like bad champagne. Then I let out a nervous laugh. "I could have sworn you just said my parents were wizards, which - haha! - would be impossible because that would make ME a wizard - or a witch, I guess - and obviously I'm NOT-"
Dumbledore was watching me with a sickeningly sympathetic expression, and that - accompanied by Fawkes' complaints - made me shut up. I looked at him with suddenly wary eyes, my heart hammering, my head dangerously light. "I'm not a witch, am I?" My voice was hoarse.
"No," he sighed, and I almost fainted right then and there out of relief. "You're not a witch, Eevee, and that's why your parents shunted you away. They were an old wizarding family, indescribably wealthy, and you - their only daughter - was nonmagical. So they got rid of you."
I sat down, hard. Fawkes let out another alarmed caw, then settled down again almost immediately. I could feel my mouth opening, but strangely enough my voice wouldn't work. Finally I cleared my throat and tried to speak.
"But. . . but. . ." was all that came out.
"Your parents were supporters of Voldemort, Evelyn," Dumbledore's voice was soft and somehow soothing, an anchor in this crazy vortex that had become my life. "Their fortune was left to you - but promised to him if you were to die, and Evelyn. . . he is in great need of money."
I gaped. So some magical mad man was after my wealth? I thought this kind of stuff only happened in America!
"Wait," I said, the full situation making itself known. "He's trying to kill me?"
Dumbledore looked at me hard, and nodded. I stared at him in shock, my mind turning around in dizzying circles and scrabbling for a sense of reality. Finally I came up with a plausible argument as to why none of this was true. "Then why didn't he come for me earlier? Why didn't he just try to kill me while I was alone and defenseless in the great US, huh? Why did he wait until I was here, in jolly old England, before you all decided to abduct me-?"
"You were safe in the states, Eevee," Dumbledore said calmly. "At least for the time being, there you were unreachable, we had knowledge of your whereabouts, had tabs on you, so to speak-"
"You SPIED on me???" I asked in horror, picturing someone taking photos of me as I took a shower, or walked around in my house naked, or did other such exposing things.
"No, my dear, we looked out for your well being," he assured me.
He could rationalize it all he wanted to, it was still spying. I folded my arms across my chest and sat back, unsure of why I was so upset by this. Hell, apparently they had been saving my life - as though I believed a word of what he was saying!
But, sadly enough, I did.
I don't know why, but some part of me was sure it was true and all made sense in some strange, fantasy story way.
God help me.
"So then I came here," stating what any idiot could've deduced. "Here where he lives, and right into his clutches. Wait-" I was having an epiphany. "-The explosion in the train station, that was. . . ?"
Dumbledore nodded.
"So it wasn't terrorists?"
"His people are the terrorists, Eevee, slowly killing off important wizards and making it look like Muggle bombing."
I sat there in silence, struggling with this, feeling as though I was trying to swallow a watermelon. Why was it so hard to just accept what he was telling me and go from there? Oh yeah, common sense.
Screw common sense, I just saw a gargoyle jump around fifteen minutes ago, and before that I fell through a wall that wasn't a wall! Common sense and all its relatives, such as sanity, reasoning, and the laws of nature, did not belong in this world. Hell, I didn't even belong in this world!
"So I'm not a wizard," I muttered, "but my parents were, and now there's some evil guy trying to kill me 'cause I'm rich. I suppose life is just peachy, isn't it?"
Dumbledore's face stretched into what might have been a smile, and he straightened his spectacles studiously. "You're not a witch, Eevee, but we have reason to believe that-"
"SQUAWK!!!" FOOM!!!
"Oh my fucking God!!!"
The bird, which had been snoring peacefully in my lap, suddenly let out a horrible shriek and burst into flames.
I don't know what I said after that exactly, some nagging suspicion kept me thinking that it wasn't very polite, and the next thing I knew I was running around the room like an idiot with my shirt and pants on fire.
"Oh dear," I heard Dumbledore murmur. Then he whipped out his wand and did a neat little wave before declaring something in Latin.
I continue my acrobatics, even though now the fire was gone. "Oh my God, oh my God!" I screamed. "I hate this place, I hate you people, and I hate that stupid bird! What the hell is the problem? Haven't you ever heard of canaries or parrots or something - what the hell are you doing with a goddamned Phoenix in your office! And why in hell did it just explode on me?!"
I continued to rant my frustrations - why the devil did this have to happen to me? I hated everything around me; I wanted my old life back, where there were rules and guidelines and, well, common sense! I was pretty close to just collapsing on the floor in a heap of tears when the sound of the door opening stopped me in mid leap. I caught my balance on the edge of the chair, winced when I heard my cuss words still ringing around the walls, and turned with Dumbledore to see who had interrupted this little party.
Oh Lord.
It was Snape.
"You sent for me, Headmaster?" He said in silky tones, his face blank with the slight shadow of a smirk around his lips.
I went stock still and tried not to stare at him. Suddenly quite flustered that I had been acting in such a way, I turned back to Dumbledore's desk and looked pointedly downward at the chair I had formerly occupied. Stared. Quite a younger, smaller version of Fawkes was looking back up at me with wide, curious eyes - there was a tiny pile of ashes upon his head which reminded me strangely of a dunce cap.
"Why yes, Severus, do come in," Dumbledore beckoned to him, and the door shut with a neat little click. I resisted the urge to look, but felt the skin prickle up on my right side as he stood next to me. The office was so small that there was barely enough room for me standing up behind my chair, so to say the least, we were in a wonderfully close proximity.
Er, did I say wonderfully close? I mean aesthetically close. The man smelled great, I'm sorry, but it's the truth - something of a mix between old spice and pine trees. Oh, and a few fumes from what I assumed to be the potions lab, but it was still an amazing scent to my overly sensitized nose. Wow. I could get used to this.
"I'd ask you to sit, Severus, but Fawkes had a bit of an accident on the chair," Dumbledore said conversationally, the twinkle of laughter in his eye.
"So I heard," Snape said snidely. "But with much regret, I must decline any further chit chat and ask you what it is you need. I am in the middle of researching quite a challenging potion that I might just give my fifth years within a week."
"Oh yes, so sorry Severus. Hm. I believe we have a bit of an issue with Ms. Jones's arm."
"My what?" I said in surprise, then looked down at the limb that had pained me so much just a short time before. It seemed so innocent now - surely it hadn't hurt as bad as I remembered.
"Indeed," Severus - I mean, Snape murmured. "And what do you wish me to do about it?"
"She has been hit by a rather unusual curse cast by one of the Death Eaters - I'd love to assist, but I really have no clue as to what caused her to have such a reaction in the first place."
I stared at the old man, my hand unconsciously going to my arm and feathering over it. "Y-y-you don't?" I asked uncertainly.
"No, my dear," he said sadly. "Which is why I brought up Severus. He may be able to help cure you."
"Ah, Headmaster. . . if I may suggest. . ." Snape murmured once again in his silky tones. "Wouldn't Madame Pomphrey be better suited to this task? She is, after all, the school nurse."
"This, I'm sorry to say, Severus," Dumbledore stated clearly, "is quite out of Poppy's league. She specializes in broken bones, childish hexes, illness, poisons of the flesh. . . this, I believe, goes deeper than that."
I was shocked, an emotion I was becoming quite accustomed to. "What do you mean, 'deeper than that'?" I said angrily, suddenly scared. "You mean you can't cure it? You don't even know what it is?"
Dumbledore gave me another piteous look, and shook his head. I swallowed hard, the incident with Fawkes and all else now forgotten. "I'm sorry, my dear, but I have never seen a reaction to the curse as you have shown, and Severus does have. . . er, extensive knowledge of the Dark Lord's tricks and healing potions that may be effective. I will, of course, be doing all I can to find some way to cure your injury, but I don't know if I'm the most capable at the moment."
We all stood in silence for a moment, my mind racing, my breathing fast and short. What if it was some sort of cancer? What if it was deadly, like a disease or something, and I wouldn't survive? What if, what if, what if! God, I was going to go insane if I didn't get some answers!
This thought in mind, and an awful lot of built up temper, I whirled on Snape and thrust my arm at him. "Well?" I said bossily, admittedly acting the bitch. "Let's hop to it, what do you think? Have you ever seen anything like this before?"
Snape gazed at me blankly for a moment, God only knew what kind of thoughts were moving past those dark eyes, then he wordlessly looked down at my arm. With startlingly elegant and graceful hands, he grabbed the sleeve of my plaid jacket and began rolling it up carefully. I got the feeling that he handled potion jars with the same amount of delicacy.
Then my lower arm was exposed, and my mouth dropped open. Before it had been a few black lines, admittedly alarming, but crisscrossing close to my wrist. Now they appeared to have spread upwards by a good couple of inches and widened out, splotching the pale skin in sickening patterns. I stared at the limb, horror struck, unable to believe that this was my own arm I was staring at. Holy cow, hadn't this been the same limb that had been so clean this morning?
Shit, it had only been a day? It felt like a goddamned year!
"Hm," was Snape's response. "Interesting, Headmaster, but I have never seen the like of it before. I'm afraid I can't be of any help in this situation."
My eyes rose to look at his politely blank features, and I knew my fear showed naked across my face. Fear at the thought that this curse, this black stuff that seemed to be spreading up my skin, might kill me. God, I might die.
But I was rich, I couldn't die yet! I hadn't even begun to live!
Snape's dark eyes met mine, solid, flat, emotionless. Something flickered in those depths, or at least I thought it did, but it died too quickly before I could be sure. Once again that shudder went through me at just how close he was standing, and I realized he had that graceful, long fingered hand on my wrist, the other supporting my elbow.
I pulled my arm away, my heart suddenly pounding, fighting to keep the flush from my cheeks. God, the last thing I needed was some kind of attraction going on between me and the pariah of Hogwarts!
Dumbledore was staring at me with a peculiar look on his face, and I stared back at him, each of us studying the other. Finally he turned thoughtfully to Snape and clasped his hands again. "Severus, I want you to work with Ms. Jones in the evenings after dinner for half an hour every night until you find a cure, or at least some information, about this peculiar curse."
Snape winced slightly, and that dark, silky voice spoke again. "But Headmaster, the school year is starting tomorrow, I shall be most busy. . ."
"Nonsense, Severus, too busy for a good deed? Why, that doesn't sound like you at all!"
Truth to tell, I thought Snape would run screaming in the other direction if he happened to spot anything even remotely related to a "good deed."
"Headmaster, if it was any other time, I'd be honored-"
"Honored, huh?" I cut through the crap. "I suppose you're just too self centered to care about my life, or probably the life of everyone else, huh? No, I could see through you from the first, Professor," okay, now I was just improvising, but it sounded damn impressive. "I knew you were a loner, it's so obvious! Headmaster-" I turned to Dumbledore, "-I demand that you assign me someone else, this man is not competent!"
Dumbledore's eyes twinkled for a moment, then his face became deadly serious. "Professor Snape is the best we have, Eevee. I'm sure you'll find-"
"That's a load of bull!" I snapped. "He doesn't want to help me because he knows he can't, and doesn't want to waste time giving it a try!"
I glanced at Snape, and judging by his murderous expression, my tactics were working. It was survival instinct, pure and simple. Dumbledore thought the man could help me, and strangely enough I trusted the old geezer. So therefore I must trust his judgments, though I was having some serious doubts. I turned to face Snape full on and gave him back one of his sneers. "Too busy pushing away to help someone in need, eh Professor?"
There was a deep, deadly silence in the room. I taunted that last line in front of his nose, dangling it like a carrot, and finally, FINALLY, I got a reaction out of him.
"Ms. Jones," he said icily. "I don't know who you are or where you came from, but no one addresses me in such a fashion."
I cocked an eyebrow. "My, cocky aren't we?" I murmured.
Was that a pink tinge in his cheeks? If it was, it was sure to be caused by pure rage. Dammit, had I pushed too far? Maybe I should step back over the line before I ended up tripping myself. We kept the staring contest going for what seemed like hours, though it was probably only half a minute. Then he glared extra hard, turned to Dumbledore, and said while stiffly ignoring me, "Tomorrow evening I shall be busy, Headmaster, but in the evenings afterwards I should be free. If you will have someone show Ms. Jones the way to my dungeons, I'll be happy to assist her. Seeing as I am extremely busy, I shall bid you good night."
"Good night, Severus," Dumbledore acknowledged with an idle wave. Snape nodded in return, turned smartly, and marched out the door. It snapped shut with a tension that was almost palpable.
I turned to look at Dumbledore, and only then let out the monstrous yawn I had been holding back. The Headmaster smiled. "Well done, my girl, excellently played."
I smiled a little in embarrassment. "I have no idea what you're talking about, Dumbledore," I murmured. "Snape is obviously the most stuck up, insensitive son of a bitch I have ever met."
Dumbledore simply chuckled. "We'll see. The clock says its late, my dear girl, and there is school tomorrow. I'll have Minerva show you to your room and get you situated, then tomorrow morning if you'll report to the Great Hall, I'll give you a list of activities you may do to keep yourself occupied during your stay."
I beamed at the old man. "Thank you," I managed through a yawn.
"Minerva should be waiting outside, dear," he said gently.
I nodded, then turned to leave. "Good night, Fawkes," I muttered as an afterthought, and got a chirp in reply. For a moment I glanced up at the portraits again only to pause. Several seemed to be sitting up now, wide awake with expression of interest on their faces. A few even seemed to be whispering to each other!
Huh, I must be getting really tired - I could've sworn they had all been sleeping when I'd come in. Thinking that my mind was finally losing it, I stepped out of the office.