Disclaimer: I'm not J. K. Rowling. Geillis is my only creation among the main characters in this story.
Chapter 13: Dies Irae
By June, the rumours still had not died down. Everyone, it seemed, was fascinated with the idea of the soft-spoken Songspells teacher falling in love with the cantankerous Potions master. Whether they were amused by it, as Dumbledore was, or were repulsed by it, as was the case for almost everybody else, it was a conversation topic that never seemed to die down. There were some—students and teachers who hated both of them—who looked upon the idea of the match as an example of poetic justice; let the two of them be miserable together. They were both so rotten that they deserved to make each other's lives into the worst of living Hells.
Naturally, all of this made Severus decide not to speak of what he had been about to say in Geillis' sitting room that Christmas night, or the reason why he had tried to kiss her at Valentine's Day. How could he tell her now, when she seemed to be as irritated by the rumours as he was?
Life became more hectic for all at Hogwarts as teachers and students alike prepared for the exams. Harry Potter, Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger discovered who was after the Philosopher's Stone, and Harry—it was said—had nearly lost his life defending the Stone from Voldemort. Professor Quirrell, who had been harbouring the spirit of the evil mage, had been left to die. Almost before anybody could turn around twice, the year was over and Hogwarts was emptied of all its people save those members of the staff who lived there all year.
And then, the midden more or less hit the windmill.
Dumbledore had been searching for Quirrell's replacement for several weeks when at last he had an application—besides Snape's annual one, that was—for the Dark Arts position. Unfortunately, the application was from Gilderoy Lockhart, a well-known author. He sighed. He'd met the man a few months ago and disliked him immediately. He didn't want to give Lockhart the job—even Dumbledore, who could usually find something nice to say about everybody, considered him to be a pompous ass of a braggart—but nobody else but Severus had applied. As much as he would love to give Severus the job, it would be a terrible thing to do, with the past that man had…it would be a mistake, especially with Voldemort still able to cause trouble. The temptation to return to his former ways might be too much to resist, even with Geillis about.
Gritting his teeth, Albus Dumbledore wrote a letter to Gilderoy Lockhart, telling him that he had been accepted as the new Defence Against The Dark Arts teacher.
***
Lockhart arrived at Hogwarts with a fanfare that was at once tastelessly ostentatious and ridiculously inappropriate. He had written and arranged for it himself, which explained a lot about him. Not one member of the male faculty of Hogwarts was impressed, and of the female, Geillis was nearly the only member who saw him for the self-centred, conceited idiot that he was. Sibyll Trelawney was the worst offender among the female faculty members, staring at him as if he were a God and ceaselessly fawning over him. Geillis couldn't stand him. The man looked like he spent more than an hour every day deciding what he was going to wear.
Naturally, she was the one who he paid the most attention to. "Ah, what have we here?" he said, wearing his most photogenic smile. "A pretty thing."
"I would thank you, 'Professor' Lockhart, not to address me as a thing," she said, coldly. "My name is Professor Geillis Gaerwing, and I hold a degree in musical magic."
"How fascinating! You know, I always wanted to go to university, but I was too smart for them, so I started to write my bestselling books instead. You must have heard of them. My adventures have been really quite splendid, lots of danger, but never enough to be a real threat, naturally. I do believe that I am the greatest wizard who has ever lived. Why, I—"
Geillis' raised hand cut him off in mid-boast. "Spare me the life story," she said. "Tell it to someone who's interested, like your mirror. Personally, I have better things to do than listen to a self-absorbed boor tell me how wonderful he is. Good day, Professor Lockhart." With an insolence learned from nearly a year's close observation of Severus Snape, she whirled about and stalked off into the building.
"Well, I never!" huffed Professor Trelawney. "Imagine, telling off the great Gilderoy Lockhart! It is not to be borne!"
Lockhart gave another pompous grin. "Not to worry, Professor; I'm sure she was only playing hard to get. I'll win her over some day. But in the meantime, why don't we go somewhere and talk about me?"
"Oh, er, I—I would be delighted," she breathed, blushing deeply.
"I wouldn't be so certain about the state of Geillis' mind regarding you, Professor Lockhart," a sarcastic voice drawled from one side. Snape was nonchalantly leaning against one of the pillars of the castle, his arms crossed. "She can be very blunt when expressing her opinion, and I do not believe that she intended to deceive you in the least. You are not likely to find her opinion of you changed at any time in the near future. Sibyll, I would advise you to prepare yourself for a very large amount of time wasted in listening to this idiot prattling on about himself. It is likely to become quite boring. From what I have heard of him, whatever he has to say will be of very little interest—and will contain very little truth."
"And how would you know about the state of Professor Gaerwing's mind?" sneered Lockhart. "So magnificent a creature with such a beautiful name deserves nothing less than the pleasure of my company. Furthermore, I believe that she knows that she deserves it. Of course she won't be able to resist me."
"She deserves a fair deal better than that," Severus snapped, "beginning with the absence of that ridiculously large ego of yours. And I know the likely set of her mind because we are very close friends. Very close friends," he said, pointedly.
"There has been a rumour for months that Professor Gaerwing and Professor Snape are romantically involved," Trelawney whispered to her companion.
"HA!" snorted Lockhart. "As if she would give him a second look! I don't believe it. You, Professor Snape, have not got a chance. Not with your greasy hair and sallow skin—or that ugly nose of yours. She might as well kiss a troll."
"I did not speak of kissing," Severus shot back. "I merely said that Geillis and I are friends. In any case, there are more important things than looks. Brains, for example. In that area, I do believe that I have the advantage of you, since the space between my ears is filled with more than an echoing, empty chamber of air." With that, he swept away into the castle, black robes billowing out behind him like those of Death himself.
"Unfriendly chap," murmured Lockhart. "Shall we go?" He offered his arm to the smitten Professor Trelawney.
"Certainly," she purred. "Tell me all about your adventures in Africa."
***
Professor Sinistra watched the confrontation between Geillis and Lockhart. Ah, perfect! She knew to whom she should give the handkerchief now.
***
When Severus arrived to go to the dinner table in the Great Hall with Geillis, he noticed Lockhart searching around for something. He had a large bouquet of flowers in one hand. Unable to resist the temptation, Severus took out his wand, pointed it at Lockhart, and murmured, "Confuso". Lockhart immediately shook his head and tried to clear it. He eventually wandered down the hall, away from Geillis' rooms. After Geillis had exited and she and Severus had linked arms as usual, he released the spell. As they walked, they soon came across the hapless Lockhart, now heading back in the direction of the harp-door. Severus gave him a pointed look as they swept past, and Lockhart's jaw fell nearly to the floor.
"What was that about, Severus?" she asked, puzzled.
"Never mind, my dear," he told her, the pet name spilling out before he could stop it. "It pertains to a conversation that I had with him after your marvellous performance today."
"I'm glad you liked it. But you actually had to talk to that slimeball?" Geillis shuddered. "You have my pity."
"That is unnecessary, Geillis, though I appreciate the thought. In fact, I believe that he came out considerably worse than I after our encounter."
Geillis grinned, imagining the scene. "I believe it," she said, drawing slightly closer to her friend.
***
Dinner, for Geillis, proved to be at once most amusing and most irritating. She sat with Severus, as always, but Lockhart quickly claimed the seat on her other side. He and Severus did their best to ignore each other, and Geillis made a valiant attempt to ignore her most conceited neighbour as she and Severus murmured little asides to each other.
Unfortunately, Lockhart couldn't take a hint. He simply wouldn't let himself be ignored, and insisted on making pompous little comments to Geillis about how great he was. This, in time, irritated her so much that, should anybody be paying attention to the scene, they would hear something like this:
"I say, Professor Gaerwing, have I ever told you about the time that I slew a rabid dragon with no more than a dull hatpin?"
"Severus, did you hear something?"
"No, I believe I did not. It must have been the wind."
"Or possibly it was only that pompous windbag sitting beside me."
"I am not a pompous windbag! I am Gilderoy Lockhart, five-times winner of Witch Weekly's 'Most Charming Smile' Award!"
"Yes, Geillis, I think it was probably the wind. In fact, I'd say that there is a great mass of hot air hovering to the right of us."
"Not so great, dearest. But 'annoying'—now, there's the right word."
"I meant 'great' as in 'large' or 'immense', love."
"Oh, that's all right, then."
Finally, Lockhart gave up. He would try again in the morning.
***
You absolute imbecile! Severus berated himself. You all but admitted to it, for all that you swore not to! Fortunately, she seemed not to notice. As he stormed back to his dungeon home after leaving Geillis at her door, his face slowly grew calmer. She may not have read anything into it. She may have lived in Canada for ten years, but she grew up here. She knows that "love" is often just an affectionate nickname for a friend.
His mouth tightened into a sneer as he remembered the look on Lockhart's face as he, Severus, had swept by him in the hall, arm in arm with Geillis. It likely did no harm to call her that, he mused. Maybe Lockhart might even get the message—eventually—that she isn't interested in him, if I continue to make such slips unnoticed in the future. And I know she isn't interested in him. She called him a slimeball.
Just for a moment, when nobody was around to see, Severus Snape smiled.
And she called me "dearest".
***
You idiot! Geillis thought after her door slid shut. You practically told him how you feel about him! You called him "dearest"! What a moron! No wonder he was so distant when he walked you home tonight!
But then, she smiled. It's only an affectionate nickname. And anyway, at best it might've shown that overinflated windbag Gilderoy Lockhart that I'm not interested in him. I have never met a more conceited person—man or woman—in my life. He could even give Codanna a run for her money.
Her smile grew yet brighter when she remembered that Severus had called her "love". It was just a friendly pet name, but she smiled anyway, and for the first time in two years and more, her sleep was untroubled by the demon of Codanna.
***
Professor Sinistra watched Severus, Geillis, and Lockhart at supper that night. She narrowed her eyes.
Darn that Jane Austen. So much for the Caroline Bingley approach. She hoped that her other idea, blatantly stolen from Shakespeare's "Othello", would have better results.
She smiled grimly to herself. She would just have to see.
After the meal, she excused herself from the table and crept through the halls of Hogwarts, Geillis' handkerchief in her hand. There was also a note, which she'd charmed to look like Geillis' elegant, flowing script. She opened Lockhart's door—the fool didn't bother with passwords—and set the handkerchief on a prominent spot on Lockhart's mirrored desk. She scooted outside and wandered casually to her own rooms in the Astronomy Tower.
***
Gilderoy Lockhart opened his door and stepped in. As Professor Sinistra had noted, there was no password; what needed he of them? Passwords were for the paranoid, and for lesser beings who needed protection. He, however, was the greatest wizard who had ever lived. If anything came after him, he could defend himself, even if everything he'd ever written was a lie.
He sat down at his desk, admiring himself from every conceivable angle. He was about to admire the strong, clean cut of his chin when he noticed a black silk handkerchief with black lace edging lying where his oh-so-handsome face should have been. A note lay on top of it:
From An Admirer
With Love
Well! How wonderful! There was only one woman who might have sent this, only one woman who had not overtly shown her instinctive admiration of him.
Only one woman, for that matter, who might own a black silk handkerchief.
Who's gloating now, Professor Snape?
***
By lunchtime the next day, everybody left at Hogwarts knew that Gilderoy Lockhart had Geillis Gaerwing's favourite handkerchief. Severus Snape was in a rage and Geillis was largely ignored every time she tried to explain that she had not given Lockhart the handkerchief. Even Albus Dumbledore looked at her with sad eyes, reproaching her for choosing such a man over Severus. The men gave her withering stares, and after the argument that she and Severus had had, he wouldn't even look at her. Somehow the "understanding" of the women was much worse than the censure of the men, though. Behind the kind words was the smug assurance that Geillis was lying and that she was in fact as smitten as the rest of them.
***
It had been begun when Severus had stormed up to her that morning and growled, "I suppose you've heard what they're saying about you and Lockhart."
"Actually, no, I haven't. What are they saying?"
It had been an honest question, but he hadn't taken it as one. "Don't try to weasel out of this, Geillis. They're all saying that he has one of your handkerchiefs. They say you gave it to him last night, as a token of your love. They say it's the black one with the black lace on it."
She stared at him. "That's preposterous, Severus. It's been missing for months."
"Months? And you never told me?"
"Why should I have? I was certain that it would turn up somewhere eventually. I thought that one of my cats had yanked it off my desk and hidden it somewhere—they do it with my pens all the time."
"So, that handkerchief is nothing more to you than a cat toy, is it?" he said, bitingly. "Is that why you gave it to Lockhart, with a note that said 'From an admirer, with love'?"
"I did no such thing, and if he say so, may his pernicious soul rot half a grain a day! It's a lie, Severus, a wicked lie! Why don't you believe me?"
He looked at her with his face full of coldness. "I don't believe you because I have seen your handkerchief in his hand—and the bastard actually showed me the note. It was in your handwriting. I don't believe you because I know you've been living under an assumed name and most people around here don't know it, save those few colleagues of ours who were teaching here when you were a student. I don't believe you because—" he had to stop himself from saying it.
"Because what?"
Because you made me believe that you could care for me. "Never mind," he snarled.
"How could you do this? That man is the scum of the earth, and you know it!"
"Oh, fine, so Mr Death Eater says that Mr Pompous Ass is scum! Which sounds worse to you?"
"Oh, defending him now, are you? And you know all about the Death Eater thing! I never thought you'd hold my past against me."
"How can I not when you're being so nasty? For all I know, you've been trying to get me to become one for all these months! How do I know that our friendship hasn't been one big lie? You're certainly treating it as if it were. I hate you, Severus Snape! I hate you for what you've done to me!" She knew that the last of this was extremely childish, but she could think of nothing better to say. In that instant, whatever she had felt for him before, she knew that she hated him now.
His face was stony and his eyes were cold. "What I have done to you? I have done nothing! I saved your life, for Merlin's sake! You trusted me!"
She scowled at him. "It appears that I trusted you in folly, Severus, if you refuse to trust me. I refuse to keep company with a man who has no faith in me."
He scowled right back. "In which case, madam, I shall leave you be. Be assured that my feelings for you are no less antagonistic than yours for me. Good day."
She glared at him as he left. Then, with the greatest of dignity, she proceeded back into her rooms.
She held her wand aloft and said, "Silencio!", and, in the unbreakable silence of her room, Geillis Gaerwing began to cry.
***
Some time later, Geillis sat on her sofa, hiding from the rest of the world. As she tried to focus on her book—a new volume by Christopher Stanford about the effects of harmony on songspells—an owl flew through her window. It dropped a note on the table in front of her, and then flew away.
Geillis, it read,
I am sorry that I did not believe you when you told me that you did not give Lockhart the handkerchief. Please come and meet me in the garden in about ten minutes. I need to talk to you.
Severus
She hesitated. It wasn't like Severus to apologize so soon after an argument—and they'd certainly had those before, though there hadn't generally been such strong emotions behind them in the past. And he had certainly never asked her to meet him in the gardens before.
Oh, hell. It was a chance that they'd be able to make up with each other. She picked up her hat, put it on, and headed outside, feeling somewhat like a lamb being led out to the slaughter.
***
Gilderoy Lockhart sat admiring himself in his mirrored sitting room when an owl flew in the window, dropped a note, and swooped out again.
Dear Mr Lockhart,
I know that people have been saying all day that Geillis Gaerwing is your secret admirer. But wouldn't you like to see me for yourself? Meet me in the garden in ten minutes.
With the greatest love,
Your Admirer
***
Severus Snape sat brooding in his office. How could she? How dare she bring up his past like that! How dare she give that handkerchief to Lockhart! How dare she lie to him! She should have told him the truth from the very beginning!
His mind flinched from the question that he had been about to ask her during their argument, but he asked it to himself anyway.
How dare she let me think that she could possibly care?
The owl that flew down from the window was lucky that he didn't strangle it. Almost certainly sensing this, it carefully kept its distance as it dropped the note and flew away as quickly as it possibly could.
He couldn't help himself. What if it were from her? He hated himself for hoping, but then, that wasn't the worst thing that he'd ever hated himself for doing. He picked up the note, and read it.
Severus,
I'm so sorry! Can you ever forgive me?
I need to talk to you. Meet me in the garden in twelve minutes, and I guarantee that everything will be explained, even to your exacting standards.
Love,
Geillis
His mood picked up slightly. Perhaps he had been too harsh with her; in the course of their friendship, she had often reprimanded him for his treatment of their students and colleagues. "You've got to calm down, Severus," she said. "All that yelling doesn't really accomplish anything good at all." She understood, of course, that his irritability had nothing to do with her, but then, he had never turned on her so fiercely before. He didn't blame her for saying that she hated him. But if she could forgive him so soon—
He shook his head to clear it of the confused thoughts. She had asked him to meet her so that they could speak; he could only assume that she had chosen the gardens as a sort of neutral ground.
But enough of this! Severus stood and swirled his black summer-weight silk cape about his shoulders. He smoothed his greasy hair, put on his best sneer, and made his way out to the gardens.
It was a beautiful day, and he even contemplated smiling. However, she had often told him that a smile looked totally out of place on his face—it was an ongoing joke between the two of them that "a smiling Snape is a frightening concept". Right now, the last thing that he wanted to do was frighten her.
His feet betrayed him. There was a lightness to his step that had never been there before, even in his student days at Hogwarts. They smiled as his face could not.
And then, he rounded a corner and saw Gilderoy Lockhart kissing Geillis passionately.
Severus' quick indrawn breath startled Lockhart so that he actually came up for air. The greasy-haired professor could only stare as Lockhart gave him a so there! look. "'Everything will be explained'," murmured Snape. "It certainly has been." He wheeled about and stalked off, never seeing Geillis' hand come up and slap Lockhart so hard that he fell flat onto his back, never heard her call, "Severus, wait! It's not what it looked like!" All that Severus Snape saw, heard, felt, and knew was his own pain.
***
Knowing that Snape would never listen to her now, Geillis turned back to Lockhart and gave him her famous "drop dead, moron" stare. "I hope you're pleased with what you've done," she said, icily. "Congratulations, Mr Lockhart. I now view you with the scorn that I would give a rat. I shall loathe you for as long as I live."
"But you gave me this…" he said, holding the handkerchief.
"Give me that!" She took the cloth from his hand. "This was a gift to me from Severus—a short time after he saved my life. I never gave it to you; it's been missing for months."
"But you—"
"I did nothing to encourage you! How dare you write a letter pretending to be him? A single cell in his little finger is worth more than a million of you! You knew that I would come if I thought that he was waiting for me! And then, you arranged for him to be here in time to see that horrible travesty of a kiss which you forced on me, didn't you!" Enraged, she took out her wand. Her face was set in an expression of rage, and her silver eyes were filled with fire.
Lockhart shook in his ostentatious shoes. Would she try the killing curse? To do so would earn her a death sentence of her own, but she looked angry enough that it wouldn't matter to her. "Now, Geillis," he said nervously. "I'm sure there's no cause for this—"
"Don't—call—me—that!" she shouted. She pointed the wand at him. "Immobilis!" she cried, and the braggart Lockhart was paralyzed. Then, Geillis put away her wand and curled her right hand into a fist.
"This is for Severus," she said, and hauled off and clobbered him. The impact broke his nose.
***
A/N: To anyone who might be keeping tabs on this story, I'm sorry I'm a bit late with this update. Life's a little busy right now, which is good, but unfortunately it doesn't leave much time for writing (or in this case, editing), and I've got about four projects (original stories as well as fan fiction) on the go at the moment—not to mention the ideas that occur to me for other projects while I'm working on one of the others...
Anyway, the chapter title is the name of part of the Requiem Mass, or the Latin Mass of the Dead. It's been set to music many times, but my personal favourite Requiem was composed by Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart (and completed by his pupil Franz Xavier Süssmayr, but that's another story). The phrase "Dies irae" means "day of wrath", and that's exactly what I wanted to portray in the last part of this chapter. I strongly suggest actually listening to the piece if you really want to understand what was going through my mind when I was writing this.
I mentioned in the summary that this story takes place in the background of "Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone". Unfortunately, to keep the canon from interfering too much in the story (and to keep the story from containing too many canonical errors, the complete impossibility of the basic premise aside), I had to avoid mentioning it unless I had no other choice.
The phrase "the midden more or less hit the windmill" is adapted from Terry Pratchett's book "The Fifth Elephant". Lady Margolotta is talking to her servant, one of the Discworld's inevitable Igors, and she uses something like that phrase in place of the usual "the s*it's going to hit the fan".
Somehow I figured that Snape and Lockhart would have taken an instant dislike to each other. The incident during the duelling club in Chamber of Secrets was my first clue. Furthermore, I somehow thought that Trelawney might be the sort to be taken in by Lockhart; she strikes me as being a bit naïve and more than a little silly, for all that she's made a couple of real prophecies.
When Snape tells Geillis "I meant 'great' as in 'large' or 'immense'," in regards to Lockhart being "a great mass of hot air", it's a reference to an episode of The Simpsons in which a babysitter accuses Homer of sexual harassment. She and her friends set up a protest outside the Simpson house, and one of their chants is "Two! Four! Six! Eight! Homer's crime is very great!" Then they pause for a moment as if in thought, and add "Great meaning 'large' or 'immense'! We're using it in the pejorative sense!"
The references to "Othello" may be obvious to anyone who's read it, but the stolen handkerchief is one of the things which Iago uses to convince Othello that his wife, Desdemona, has been unfaithful. (The handkerchief was supposed to be magical, and as long as it was in Desdemona's possession the marriage was safe; if she lost it, the marriage was doomed.) In the end, Othello kills Desdemona and then, realizing what he's done, kills himself as well. Geillis' angry comment of "If he say so, may his pernicious soul rot half a grain a day!" is a reference to Emilia's curse (Act V, Scene ii, lines 158-159 or so) when she finds that Iago has misled Othello into believing that Desdemona has had an affair. I've always liked it, and I jumped at the chance to use it here.
I'm not great at writing arguments. Sorry. However, I see Snape as being extremely hurt when he thinks his trust has been betrayed, and what could be more natural to him when he's hurt than to hurt other people? In any case, I don't see Snape as being the sort to trust people easily (gee, I wonder why...), and if he has doubts about them—like I figure he would about Geillis, having known her for less than a year—they would probably surface easily.
About the name "Christopher Stanford"—I am by no means a religious person. I have my beliefs, but at the moment I consider myself to be nondenominational. However, I have a huge fondness for the music used in church services, especially the older pieces. Although there is no significance to the name "Christopher" (I picked it randomly), I chose "Stanford" because Sir Charles Stanford composed some of my favourite pieces of sacred and secular choral music, including "The Blue Bird" and a particularly powerful Magnificat and Nunc Dimittis in the key of C.
Finally, regarding Geillis punching Lockhart in the nose—I'm not normally a violent person, but I wanted to do that myself a few times when I was reading Chamber of Secrets. Therefore, that little scene was a nice bit of catharsis for me, so to speak, along with being something that (depending on whether or not I make a few changes in the storyline as I edit) may help to further the scraps of plot that I'm trying to work with here. =)