Chapter 7 – The Masks We Wear

Glowing spiders and iridescent pumpkins floated around the dining hall as the children entered with visions of caramel apples and chocolate cake.  Banners of orange and black swept across the room, shining like moonlight.  The air was thick with the scent of cinnamon and sugar, and the chatter of a thousand voices.  Sophie walked around enjoying the decorations and watching the students interact amid the tempting sweets and lively laughter that filled the room. 

Hermione, Ron, Harry, and Ginny were sitting at their table laughing and talking enthusiastically with their hands.  It appeared to Sophie that they were re-living some past event, evidently talking about fighting something large and apparently quite ugly.  Hermione seemed to be a lot more cheerful than she was the last time that Sophie saw her.  She watched as Hermione placed her hand on Ron's during the course of the conversation.  He looked down at her hand on his and then looked up and continued the discussion.  Sophie smiled to herself and wondered if he realized what Hermione was trying to tell him.'

Across the table, Ginny kept glancing over at Harry, who seemed oblivious to her presence.  Sophie felt a pang of concern for the diminutive red-head. 'He sees you as a sister Ginny, tread carefully.'  Sophie reprimanded herself for her habitual mothering of the students.  Distancing herself from those who came to speak to her was a problem, as the need to comfort and console was always present and though that might make her a good person, it could make her a lousy psychologist if she did not control it. That thought led to a search for Draco Malfoy. Sophie scanned the room and found him seated at the end of his table, surrounded by his cronies with that Pansy girl giggling in his ear, and showing no trace of the boy who cried in her arms.

She continued to look across the room and paused to watch Neville clean up a spill.  A lump rose in her throat as she watched him, his face flustered as he muttered his apologies.  She wanted to run over and take care of it for him, but he would be mortified, and she did promise to stifle her attentions.

A few girls from the Hufflepuff table were waving to her. 'Let's see - Susan with the overindulgent father and the imposing mother, Moira who was terrified of standing up for herself and Eve who had nightmares.'  Sophie returned the gesture conveying the same enthusiasm with which it was delivered.  She spoke to so many in that house.  They were having a hard time dealing with the loss of Cedric Diggory and it was manifesting itself in all sorts of psychosis. 

In fact, it was her opinion, that the incident affected people more deeply than they really wanted to admit.  Moreover, Sophie was surprised how many people blamed Harry, directly or indirectly, for all that happened.  They knew he did not purposely do anything to cause the chain of events that ended the last year, but many felt he was the sole reason Voldemort was back.  They felt Harry was endangering them all.

A chill ran though Sophie as she thought of it.  Memories flooded in and sought to drown her.  She looked around at these innocent faces laughing and eating sugary confections, faces that have no recollection of what life was like before Harry Potter.  They do not know the constant fear that permeated the very air they breathed.  They did not understand what was like, not to be able to trust your friends. They did not know the anguish and devastation Voldemort and his minions caused for years.  They did not realize how fortunate they were that he was as quiet as he was now.  Sophie closed her eyes as she thought of Severus's words "They must be planning for all out war."

Her train of thought was broken when she saw him enter the room in that way of his that sent a wave of cynicism through the room before he even spoke a single word. Their relationship had improved over the last few weeks if only slightly.  He was still sarcastic and enjoyed cutting her down but it appeared to be more for amusement than out of resentment.  With his robes blowing about, he walked over to her.

"I am surprised to see you here," he began, "I thought your kind went out on this night and begged for candy and then draped tissue paper around the houses of those that did not accommodate."

"The world is full of surprises," Sophie retorted, "For example I thought your kind avoided daylight for fear of turning into dust but you return day after day."  With a nod he left and walked over to professor Vector muttering something about having to pay a debt when a familiar group of Gryffindors walked over to her.  "Saw you talking to Snape," Ron jeered.  "What was he complaining about this time?"

"Professor Snape and I were having a conversation, Ron. We were not fighting.  It is possible to have a discussion with him without losing your temper."

"Is he treating you better then?" Harry asked.

Sophie paused before answering, choosing her words carefully. "He had some pre-conceived notions about me and I am trying to prove him wrong."

"Why do you bother?"

Sophie gave him a scrutinizing look.  "Professor Snape is a brilliant man and one of the world's authorities on Potions.  There are only a few dozen true Potions masters in the world and you should consider yourselves lucky to be under his supervision.  He has a reputation as a perfectionist and he lives up, to that whether you appreciate his personality or not.  You would do yourself a favor to pay attention in his class and learn what he has to teach you.  I think it safe to say it could turn out to be very important in the near future." 

Harry found her words evocative and was about to question her on it when Neville joined in on the conversation.  "It easy for you to say he doesn't torment you daily, Auntie Sophie."  Everyone glared at Neville who instantly closed his eyes and swallowed.  Sophie bit her lip and tried not to smile.

There was a collective, "Auntie Sophie!" and Neville looked horrified.

Sophie explained to the stunned crowd, "Well, technically I am not a real aunt. I have been friends with Neville's Mum since we were very little girls. I have known Neville since before he was born."  Neville nodded in agreement as Sophie continued. "We thought it might make people uncomfortable to know I had such a close relationship with a classmate, so we decided to just act like faculty and student.  At least in front of the rest of you, in private I am still Auntie Sophie.  Now that our cover has been blown I am hopeful that you will keep our little secret."  They all nodded and Ron elbowed Neville in the arm and gave him a smile.

"I think it's wonderful that you have kept such a close relationship with Neville after his parents died.  I was worried he only had his Grandmother and she can send the most frightful howlers," said Hermione.

Sophie paused and furrowed her brow slightly as she turned to face Neville. His eyes were pleading with hers.  Realization hit hard, 'Oh My God, they have no idea.'

"Yes," She recovered quickly, "Well Neville has always meant so much to me that I could not leave him to her.  She is a dear, but she doesn't know how to have fun, does she Neville?"

He was smiling again but looked terribly embarrassed. "Right," he muttered.

"Speaking of fun, you should all go and have some. It's Halloween and I bet you could think of a hundred things you'd rather be doing other than standing here talking to me."

They all laughed and waved goodbye as they left the hall.  Neville stayed behind looking terribly, terribly nervous.

Sophie spoke softly, "You never told them."

Neville tried to read the expression on her face.  He was looking for disappointment but instead he just saw sorrow. Disappointment would have been easier to handle. "No."

"Why?"

"They already feel sorry for me, being clumsy and stupid.  It's hard enough being a poor excuse for a wizard; I couldn't bear any more pity.  Besides, I really don't like talking about it."

She cupped his chin in her hand and tilted his head to face hers.  "First of all, you are neither clumsy nor stupid…and furthermore your friends care about you, it has nothing to do with pity."  She paused to brush some of his hair behind his ears.  "You're a good person and you could be a great wizard with the right guidance.  I know your grandmother doesn't want you to go into sessions with me, but I think you need to talk to someone about this.  Keeping these things secret will not make them go away.  It will not make things better.  If you don't feel comfortable talking to me, will you at least go to Professor McGonagall or Headmaster Dumbledore?  They care about you as well."

"I don't know."

"Neville you need to start facing this if you are ever to get passed it.  Did you ever think that you have problems in classes because you are afraid to face up to the circumstances in your life? That your fears have become your hardship?"

"No.  Do you really think it has something to do with it?"

"I think you owe it yourself to find out."

"I'll think about it."  He looked down.

Sophie knew Neville well enough to know when to stop pushing.  He was more like his mother than he will ever know.

"Okay, go and join your friends."

He gave her a small smile and she returned it.  She wanted to hug him but remembering the last reaction she got to that particular action, she reconsidered.

As she watched him walk away she felt her heart drop to her stomach, breathing suddenly became a chore.  She turned to walk out and noticed Professor Snape staring at her. 'How much did he hear,' she wondered.  'A lot by the look on his face.'  They stared at each other for a few moments before she finally broke down.  It was Sophie now who could not bear to talk about it.  She rushed out of the Great Hall and into the night.