Chapter Twenty-Four – Double-Edged Sword

She yawned, "What do you do over the summer holiday, Snape?"

He stretched his arms over his head, making them seem even whiter and even bonier. "I go and I come. I will spend some time in London. I'll continue to work with the Ministry. I might pass some time in France."

"Visiting Andrew?" She baited.

"Hunting down a few rare ingredients." He shot her a rude look. "And visiting Andrew. I know what you were thinking."

She nodded in acknowledgement. "What's to do in London?"

He looked at her askance a moment, "I usually assist in a Ministry Laboratory. This entails my working and researching, barking for everyone to leave me alone and to not bother me, then after a few weeks I come up with something....or not."

"Fascinating."

"What'll you be doing? Butterbeers? Giving it any more thought?"

"You sound like my parents' letters. Yes I have given things more thought, but I can't tell you what I've decided yet, as I don't even know what I've decided yet."

"Suit yourself." He chuckled. "But you have only a couple more weeks. Feel any different?"

"How would I feel different?"

"Knowing the school term's almost over. You schooling is really very much over, you will function adequately from now on. Saying goodbye to these hallowed halls and all that." He scoffed.

"Hogwart's feels so dear to me, I know, it sounds stupid. I didn't have heaps of friends--not like at The Institute. I am very definitely not going to get passing marks in Herbology--I'm slowly accustoming myself to the fact. Oh well, life I suppose does go on. But I wish time could stay the same. Foolish grasping for the moon, but one always clings to the good and tries to relive them as often as possible." She rambled.

"Whatever you think." He admitted somberly, though he didn't really pause long enough to take in what she was saying. "Now, if you have a window...." He got to his feet and banished her guitar right from out of her hands. "Really, music is good and relaxing and all--can't honestly say I've heard you improve--but at least I'm used to it now. But it's a poor use of time wouldn't you think." He stood next to her and she grudgingly got to her feet.

"Only you would think it's a waste of time."

"It's not a complete waste--just that time is better employed elsewhere."

"How, by curing the world of it's ill's through potion-making? That's unfair. Without art and music we'd be lost--no sense of who we are, what makes us alive, why we mere mortals are worth the bother..." She punched him squarely in the arm for emphasis, then started to walk away.

"I did have a point."

"Funny way of getting it across."

"Maybe if you shut up for long enough...." He snarled. "I was going to ask you if you'd assist me in my classroom--on a potion I'm experimenting with. It shouldn't take more than an hour--you won't miss the meal." He sneered.

She cocked an eyebrow up in disbelief. He was asking her to help him? Was this a joke? If it wasn't, well, she'd be flattered and amazed--what an opportunity. It wasn't lost on her. On every other occasion he'd preferred to go at it alone, mumbling about dangerous materials and blah blah. She narrowed her eyes and followed him from the room, not daring to ask a question in the case that it was a joke and he wanted to laugh at her or humiliate her.

They'd been at each other's throat the past few days especially. It was the stresses building as the term neared completion and the added thoughts for Georgie about the Mediwizardry training. It was turning into almost a boon--though a rather twisted one--that Severus was teaching her to fight and to defend herself. Not only was she getting better at the grappling, kicking, biting dirty sort of fighting, but she puffed up inside just on the secret knowledge that she could poison his supper, or hurl a jinx on him now before he had time to react. It was a step in the direction of finding some equal playing ground between them.

And now here she stood actually discussing with him how to counter a common poison: start with an antidote or a sort of a vaccine? Antidotes were easier, Severus informed, but as he'd already tried the eggs and the body organs of the rare magical bird to counteract the poisonous blood and had come up with nothing, he'd have to start looking somewhere completely different.

"Not to sound stupid, but how will you get hold of that? It's only grown in where? Seychelles, or someplace? And there's a strict exportation ban. You'll not get a chance to test it. What it you try that Cowslip Snake thing--they're related--same order, or family, or something."

He fought back the impulse to correct her--'Cowslip Snake' thing indeed! "We could try that as well, but the Ministry can get me anything I need."

"Anything?" She teased.

"Anything." He repeated patiently. "Why is there something not at Hogwarts you want? I could put in a good word for it. What is it you need?" He teased back as he rifled through his shelves.

Her face lit up. Alright, she knew he wasn't thinking about exotic food or fancy robes, or anything as crazy as having her own private submarine--just a thought! But her face fell with a hint of sadness. "No, the Ministry can't help me--Ministry's rotten anyhow." She smiled weakly. "I'm groovy. What have they gotten for you?"

"To start with, I have a flat I can use whenever I have need of it. It's protected by all kinds of spells and silencing charms. I get any ingredient I ask for, and I'm left to myself. That's all I ask."

"Well, If that's all you want..." She shrugged, catching sight of the medium sized jar she still held in her hand. She set it down on the worktable and twisted the lid off to extract the slippery tube-like tissues inside, tossing it into the bubbling liquid.

"What's that supposed to mean?'

"Nothing meant by it. Just, haven't you even wanted anything outlandish and crazy? I figure the ministry nearly owes you by this time, so shouldn't you ask for something mad? Like ask for The Eiffel Tower or something? Just to see what they'd say to your request."

"I don't want it." He spat. "If I felt the need to test how far they would go, I assure you I would have tested. However I am quite assured of the lengths to which I can go and to how much assistance I can get. At least from certain cooperating officials and departments." Fudge was a waste of time, she'd gathered from his many scathing remarks.

"Meaning, good."

"Yes, meaning good." He parroted her. "What is it you've said on occasion, 'playing you cards right?' I'll never understand how you and Siobhan can play that imbecilic card game night after night! Not at all like Chess with it's strategies, it's parallels...."

"Whoa, missy. Are we talking of Chess or are we going to get me a submarine?"

He blinked at her in silence. "I think I've fallen asleep and this is some nightmare."

"You dream about your potions? Making them I mean?"

"No, I enjoy making potions too much to have such a pleasant subject in my dreams. No, usually I dream about them going horribly wrong, falling into the wrong hands--end of the world so to say on account of me."

"Wow, no wonder you wake up perky."

He turned his back on her and walked over to a cabinet and unlocked it with his wand. Everything was meticulous in there as well, ordered and labeled. He returned with a vial of yellow powder in hand. "What I wonder at is how you wake up at all."

"Hullo? What ya mean?"

"You have said before that you never recall your dreams. So you must in a sense, or at least to your consciousness, fall asleep, then a few scant minutes later you wake up. I wonder at how you feel rested, how you feel satisfied with having that whole period of time not registering in your memory, and then just getting up and going on with your day. I'm not a very trusting person, of course you know this, but were I not you and perhaps myself in consciousness--who can and must account for every minute of waking and sleeping--a missing eight hour period would have me worried."

"You're going to make me all paranoid now, I'll never sleep well again. Thank you ever so much!" She growled.

"Just calling it as I see it." He measured out a specified amount by eye and dropped it in.

She followed his movements. "It's not working. If it were going to work it would be doing so by now."

"Stop, Give it ten more minutes before we toss it. Always so quick to jump to conclusions."

"I'm usually right."

"But not always, good thing too." He nearly scolded. "Patience is a virtue."

"You're a fine one to talk of virtue." She sniffed, feeling a bit stung over his reprimand.

Severus whirled around, bringing his robes billowing around him suddenly. His eyes wide with amusement, he smirked "Oh really! How have I shown myself to be un-'virtuous'?" He leaned up nonchalantly against his own desk and set his hands in his lap. It was something new everyday with her. Why couldn't she just leave well enough alone?

Georgie rolled her eyes, "Well, apart from that whole 'Thou shalt not turn to the Evil bad master and do his bidding and make it so hundreds of your friends and fellow men are tortured and killed, allowing for general chaos to rule and all of Britain to be plunged into a period of fear and darkness' thing. The 'for evil to prosper means good men do nothing...' I don't recall it exactly, but that's the gist of it."

"I did all that?" He whistled in mock amazement. "I don't give myself near enough credit." He laughed lightly bringing Georgie into it. "You're a very horrid girl to bring that up all the time. I find that one of the double-edged swords of being around you."

"Eh, how so?" She wasn't following him.

"You have accepted me and my deeds." She nodded and urged him to continue. "Now you talk lightly of those bad old days as if I were just a foolish teen doing what normal teens do. You're used to it."

"Well, you're used to it. Why the surprise?"

He ran his hand up to his hair, "Not surprise. Rather, there's the danger I'll make too light of it and start to forgive myself." And that you'll do that same...

"Oh and then that'll be the end of the world," She defied and snapped at him. "You're an idiot, Snape. I'd remind you in some deeply depressing way every single damn day if I thought it'd make any difference. But it won't, so I can't be bothered." She shook her head, "Idiot."

"I am not an idiot, just look at the position I'm in. I can't afford to forget."

"Yes, but do you need to dwell so on it?" She winced.

"Why, does it make you uncomfortable?" He bantered.

"It's not about me!" She nearly shrieked, her fists balled up under her rage.

"Then what is it about?" He was still smirking in her disapproving face and the role reversal sorely ate at her nerves.

She shrugged, "You're right."

"Then what is it about?" He repeated to her, his smile faltering.

"I don't know what we're talking about anymore." She had a clue, but everything was so muddled in her head at that moment. She wanted to push Severus back into his place and make him listen to reason. To remember and to honor the past and to learn from the mistakes--but to re-live them everyday, and to torture one's self over it--of course it wasn't healthy. It certainly wasn't how she would have handled things had it been her.

But what sort of argument could she make to her friend to get him to heed her suggestions for treating himself better. No, he would have to find his own self-worth on his own; no amount of complimenting or challenging could drag it out of him. Not yet at least.

"But you're slightly right, it does make me uncomfortable. The you I know now wouldn't do those things, so it's foreign to hear about it."

He frowned at what she'd intended to be a compliment. He hoped that she wasn't nitwit enough to start seeing him through some warped glass, or placing him on a pedestal. "Interesting. But the truth still remains that I did do it. I am grateful for that and even more grateful that only you and possibly Dumbledore actually know me well enough to make that claim."

"Yup, especially since so much depends on it appearing the opposite." She added lamely, to which he nodded, then shrugged indecisively.

"I don't think it's reacted the way we'd hoped." Georgie pointed a square finger over towards the cauldron.

"I didn't think it would." He replied stiffly.

"Disappointed?" She prodded.

"Why?" He looked up at her darkly.

"You don't act disappointed."

"I all but knew for a fact that it would fail."

"No swearing, no storming about....you're not human."

"I knew--" But Georgie cut him off.

"Just say 'Damn'. Just one bad little curse or swear. Come on, just say it!"

He extinguished the fire. "What are you rambling about?"

"Say 'Damn'. Just once."

"No," He looked at her as if she were mad. "Why ever would I do that?"

"Because I've never heard you say anything like it."

"I've said damn. When something merits it. Only imbeciles feel the need to supplement their speech with expletives. Others choose to pepper their speech in a way that gives rise to no need for anything other than their words. Those carry the same force and feeling and do twice the damage." He looked down to the cauldron and drew a bit up to examine it closer. "That's enough for now."

"So just say it then." She put her hands on her hips and affected a challenging stance. "You're just being difficult."

He set everything down, "You're still harping on about that? Why? Just to say it? That's pointless. There are better ways at expressing oneself." He pronounced, the condescending edge to his voice leapt up that he usually only produced while teaching.

"Just say it. Please?! It'd make me very happy. And lighthearted and whimsical and everything good and light. Oh, come on. Just say Damn and I'll leave you alone, just say it, so I can say I've heard it."

"Who would you tell?"

"No one, it's for my own personal enjoyment, Sugar Lips."

"That's a very cruel thing to say."

"You said it about me. Why you keep me around--for your entertainment."

His lips thinned and his eyes darkened, Georgie's vigor weakened for a moment--was he upset now? "Like I said: a cruel thing to say, from a cruel person." He stood up and crossed the floor between them. He stood by her shoulder and they both looked at the cauldron resting in the front of the room now, no activity coming from it. He patted down the top of her head. "Don't start to sound like me. It won't suit you." She began to open her mouth to say something, but decided instead to clamp it shut. At times, perhaps it owed to moodiness, but she felt as if she were a dog being petted and congratulated whenever she did something. But she didn't dare say anything for fear that he might stop, and she enjoyed the human interaction, what little she got of it.

He took hold of both of her shoulders and turned her around pushing her to the door. "You'd better get up there for the meal. I'll be up in a bit, I've got something I need to attend to."

She opened her mouth to protest, she would help him clean up a bit...But he held up his hand.

"Will you get out of my damn classroom, Georgie!" He bellowed and snarled at her as she ran chuckling from the room.

Albus Dumbledore made his leisurely time down to Severus' private quarters. Severus had informed him of a meeting that evening and the Headmaster was anxious to hear back from the younger man. Usually the Potions professor made his own way up to Dumbledore's office if the hour wasn't completely out of the question. But Dumbledore figured it really was just after two or so and it wouldn't put him out any to travel down the many flights of stairs. He enjoyed ever stone in that building and it was a comfort to wander about in it when the building creaked and whistled and strained to tell all of it's many secrets.

The old man let himself in by way of the common room and then over to the 'lounge' as Georgie dubbed it these days. He deftly pushed open the door so as not to alert anyone should they be up. And immediately he felt another watching presence. His eyes behind his half-moon spectacles adjusted to the half-light still emanating form the heart. Severus was sitting bolt upright in the far and opposite corner of the room, his chair backed up to the wall. Dumbledore entered in and shut the door after him under the watchful and frowning gaze of the man in the corner.

"Good evening Severus. I hoped to find you still awake at this late hour and I wasn't disappointed. May I sit with you for a few minutes?" He waited for Severus to nod to the request before the older man drew up a wooden chair a few scant feet from the stiff man in the corner. Severus peered down his nose at his old friend and his eyes gleamed in a sinister fashion that Dumbledore found not unnerving, but more annoying.

"I apologize that I must intrude tonight, but you see I have an appointment with a committee from the Ministry early in the morning, so I'm afraid, this must transpire tonight." He frowned. "I see that George Flaing has retired for the evening and has prepared you..." He arched his eyebrows in the direction of a glass on the table nearest to the fire. "Ah, yes, Asphodel. Funny how you find it easy enough to whip that up for others, yet you hardly ever heed your own advice. Nor would it seem that you are heeding hers tonight."

"If all you came here to do...." Snape's face darkened.

Dumbledore leaned back in his high-backed chair and stared the other man down. "Feel free to begin when you see moved to do so, Severus."

Snape blatantly clenched his jaw and twisted his hands together tensely. "I will tell you all that I didn't dare tell the girl. Do you recall Martin Palmer? Had a fine head for Charms, matriculated perhaps, oh, ten years back? Well, he's dead. And his wife with him. No reason why they should be so singled out. There's honestly no method to the madness. Sometimes they bring out people for sport, and sometimes people are just in the wrong place at the wrong time. Pity he and his wife happened upon us at that time. Pity it wasn't some hapless Muggle either." He tilted his head off to the side, and his lank hair fell further across his face, disguising his figures. "It's funny how these things work out. We had said all that needed to be said, Pettigrew spoke for his Master, and we were all just about to Apparate away--some had already done so as a matter of fact--when someone hissed that they heard voices coming. We all hid in a thick copse and snared them in. Perfect predators if it weren't so senseless."

Dumbledore had this instinct that perhaps Snape had been drinking, but he wasn't entirely sure and wasn't about to hazard a guess and ask. It was quite possible as well, that exhaustion was finally catching up with the man. He was human, though it was easy to forget.

"Then there they lay, and at such odd angles, Circe help them, every bone in their body must have been smashed. Amazing difference a killing curse makes when aided by maiming curses and when coming from many places at once. The force from all the blasts, the animosity behind them all, it twists and warps the body—bends it all rather unnaturally. A bit grotesque after the deed. And it really wasn't the shock of seeing them look like that, I've long since ceased to be amazed or moved--I'm sorry, but that's the long and short of it." He glared at the old man's disapproving looks. "But it was the fact that I'd seen the scene before. Exactly laid out like it was tonight. That's the curious part."

Dumbledore gave him a look across the darkness begging him to articulate.

"I've had recurring dreams before." His eyes came into clearer focus, "I don't even know why I am telling you this, and it certainly has nothing to do with anything that the Ministry needs to know." He warned.

"You could tell me because I am concerned for your welfare, old friend." Dumbledore stated simply.

Snape snorted, cast his eyes up to the ceiling then continued. "My recurring dream involves my stumbling across a circle of trees in the near pitch blackness and then stumbling across a body. A body twisted and maimed, with a thin trickle of blood running down the side of the body's stone mouth. I knew what I'd be seeing as I inched closer. I wasn't surprised because it was as I'd seen it. It was a perfect replica of my dream."

Albus leaned forward enthralled, "I believe you, though I'm not sure as to the purpose for this. I know of no way to transplant dreams--influence them yes, but not to induce specific pictures to come into play. Curious though. It could be, though you hate to admit it, that you do have a gift for divination and prophecy. Admit to it or not, it is a possibility. But you're not one to go for prophecy--you've made yourself absolutely clear on that point many times before.

"That's true." He growled between his teeth. "Oh, and the greatest difference is that in my dreams the body's always Georgie Flaing's. Precisely the same position and environment."

"Now we're that's curious. How did you react--in your dream I mean?"

"In my dream I screamed at another figure, My sister's dead, she's dead, you killed her." He met the old man's gaze. "No, I don't know what it means, of course the girl's not my sister, and I don't know whom exactly I was blaming for her death. I don't know who killed her. The other figure was made of shadows, but solid shadows. It was never anything that particularly bothered me as this was in comparison a very mild nightmare compared to ones in the past. At least I didn't wake up bleeding from self- inflicted wounds, so on the whole, I was somewhat grateful and I never took it very seriously." He lip curled maliciously.

"Well, I take much more stock in people's dreams than you do, and I've found that there are reasons for everything, and this is a clearer indicator than many I've seen that there's something to your dream. You may choose to ignore this, but I cannot." He folded his hands into his lap in a characteristically Dumbledore action signaling that his mind was set.

"Did you react in anyway to Georgie when you returned?"

Severus sniffed and glowered. "I ordered her away and told her to leave me be and to go to her room." She retaliated with strong language and threw a book against the wall. Most immature of her, but it's hardly to be expected that I'd find her other than she is."

Dumbledore was suddenly painfully aware that her sleeping chamber was a few paces away and it was possible that she might be overhearing this conversation.

"Well, I'm afraid I don't know how to advise you on this beyond having dreamless sleep. If you're positive that Voldemort's not behind this, you may allow these dreams to continue, if you so wish. For all we know it might be a natural dream, even if it is prophetic. And I doubt you'd be open to any further advice from me at this point." Albus rose to his feet and towered above the still sitting man. "I believe that the rest of the details you can etch out and get to me by noon tomorrow. But I believe that the best thing for you right now is to drink what Miss Flaing's made up for you and try and get some sleep. Consider that an order, Professor." His eyes twinkled behind his stoic exterior. "Get some sleep Severus. Try at the very least."

Snape looked up and considered the man for a moment, then looked away. Dumbledore seized this opportunity to escape the icy feeling of the room. He wound his way directly up to his own rooms.

The Headmaster reflected on the Severus he left down in the dungeons. Snape never was one to handle some of the softer-magics: He scoffed at Divination and Illusions. But it was a curious effect it left on him, when such a situation was thrust upon him. It was almost a relief to see that he was puzzled over the occurrence, that he did indeed let his guard down in the sanctum of his rooms to wonder and worry. Very human and a great relief.

This might turn out to be nothing, or to be something. And if Albus Dumbledore was a betting man--which as a matter of fact he was--he'd put his money on this all turning into something.

Georgie spent all day Saturday inside the dungeons and the Common Room on account of the rain. She and Siobhan practiced with the throwing knives with a neat little target Sirius had somehow procured for them. The idly chatted as the launched the weapons with force into the opposite wall out in the quiet hallway. It was a bit like playing darts in a pub, Siobhan had joked.

"Wait, you mean Niamh's gone home for the weekend? That's not allowed is it?" Georgie paused only momentarily in her game.

"No, it's not allowed. Say for instance, I tried to go visit somewhere-- completely out of bounds."

"So?" Georgie prompted

"So...." She squinted as she aimed. "So, I flipping don't know why. She won't say. I generally jump to conclusions when she won't say. Those conclusions are generally having to do with a certain Defense Against the Dark Arts professor and nine times out of ten I'm right." She huffed as she snapped her arm down.

"Well, it's not as if she's with him though...." Georgie really hadn't the foggiest about rules, but figured that that would be very much taboo.

"No, he's here I believe. I'll find out when she comes back. Niamh's pathetically sensitive. She won't tell me of her ventures in the case that it fails--you know, to save face and all." She walked to the wall and yanked out the knife from the far-left side of the target. "She's a silly little fool."

Georgie didn't know what to say as Niamh was her friend as well and all, but sisters did argue--at least she'd been told so by Severus. Neither of them had had sisters so they could only guess at the two girls' behavior at times.

Siobhan leaned against the wall behind the standing figure of Georgie. Siobhan sighed as she slowly sank to the ground and stretched her legs out before her, blocking off the entire corridor from other use. "Where's Snape?"

Georgie squinted just as Siobhan had done, then spoke out of the corner of her mouth. "He said something-or-other about going into town--needed something, blah blah, don't burn down the castle whilst I'm away...."

Siobhan snorted. "You going to miss him when you're gone next year?"

"Oh course I'll miss him. I won't have anyone to torture just at hand if I'm off leaning a trade or tending to some stupid shop."

"You could stick around...."

Georgie's eyes flashed dangerously. "What? As Hagrid's helper or as Filch's? Unless you've heard something I haven't, there aren't any positions open here at Hogwarts." She grated her teeth and smoothed her robes in annoyance as she retrieved her knives from the floor where they'd fallen.

"Definitely not as Hagrid's helper..." Siobhan whistled lightly. "You could help Pince or something? Library science or something. Or else be a sort of an understudy to a teacher already here."

"No, if these Professors had need of extra help they'd have gotten it in someone else long before now." She snarled, then softened her tone. "Not that it's not appreciated."

"So what'll you do?"

"Dunno. It's odd to have to choose every single year where you'll be. Sometimes I wonder if I will never have a true home and stay still long enough to keep my friends." She cast a glance back at her friend. "No worries though, I'll not ignore you. More like you'll not be able to lose me."

"You're lucky. I'd give anything to be graduating this year. I can't wait to see the world, to get a brill job--maybe with the Ministry--be my own person."

"Ah, but when you're at that point you'll wish you were back in your carefree school days. No stress, no big decisions, no rent to pay...."

"You make it sound all bad." Siobhan accused.

"It's not all bad--just different, that's all," Georgie plopped down next to her. "Listen, Cailin Rua, I'll visit you next winter if I can't see you during the rest of the term." She softened the conversation by using Siobhan and Niamh's mutual nickname.

Georgie squinted off into space and when the other girl didn't speak right away, she prodded, "What are ya thinking about?"

Siobhan smirked, "I was thinking whether Snape's going to be a huge ol' arse again when ya leave. You had a sobering effect on him--I know, I've been here for years. He used to be right nasty--hell, still is. Nasty and cranky and mean and rude and cruel. Not so cruel now that I know him more, but still. I think he'll change back to his old disgusting self when ya go, and that will be the end of it. I suppose that means if I want a chance to do something really naughty like tack up McGonagall's knickers to the door of the Great Hall I ought to do it soon." She paused long enough to examine her nails and pick at them a bit.

"True pity though. He'll be prolly despondent now--as if he had a good time, now's gone, so now he'll be sour grapes incarnate and be a wretched monster borne of hell or something. Sort of like, he knows what he's missing so he'll be a million times worse now. He'll take out his aggression and frustration on poor little Slytherins and......"

Siobhan sought Georgie's face and broke off mid-sentence in confusion. Georgie had a look of intense shock and embarrassment on her face as she stared hard at something just over Siobhan's own shoulder.

"Shit," she whispered. "He's behind me now, isn't he?"

Georgie nodded slowly and swallowed hard. It took great effort not to laugh. Only out of duty to both of her friends did she not break down and laugh at the sight of them both.

Siobhan turned slowly around and looked nearly full up to smile sickly at her Potions Professor. "Hullo Professor."

"Do you know," he purred. "I, in all honesty, have great difficulty trying to figure out one 'poor little Slytherin' as you say. Who would that be exactly? Enlighten me."

"Just a figure of speech."

"Oh of course," He simpered and smiled sickly at her. Siobhan flushed deeply and Georgie bit her lip in an effort not to laugh at her poor friend. No, this won't do......

Georgie raised her hand in the air, as if she were trying to answer a question posed in class. "Ooo, ooo I've got a question."

Severus turned his cold gaze on her now quirking one eyebrow up in amusement. "What now?"

She put her hand down. "What I don't comprehend is why if you bothered to get a hair cut, why not pay the extra Sickles and treat yourself to a wash as well? And you can barely tell you got anything done at all. It's still shoulder-length and limp and horrifically out of date--dear, do you try and look so passe?" She indicated to his hair, which Georgie had noticed to be several inches shorter than it had been that morning. "I mean, and why at all? All dressed up and no place to go and all that--nor reason for any of it. Why not get it all loped off at once you know--look a bit like Potter or something. The messy look is in. It's sort of a rock musician style I've heard it called."

"Enough!" He screamed. "You imbecile." He reached down to lift Georgie up to her feet by her elbow taking care to watch a small bag tied off in his hand and Georgie's knives in her own. "You are a bad influence on Miss Malone here obviously." Was he serious? He seemed slightly perturbed, as he indicated the bewildered Siobhan to her feet. Georgie eyed the bag curiously and tried to catch his eye.

"I really don't know if it's wise to have the two of you spending so much unsupervised time together."

"Unsupervised?" Georgie checked herself from sounding demanding.

"Yes," He hissed. "You'll start getting unhealthy ideas about being lazy and dawdle about in public places speaking maliciously and forgetting your meager place in life, in this school and most importantly in my opinion." He led both girls back into Slytherin territory.

"Off you go to your own dormitory." He pushed Siobhan away curtly then grabbed Georgie's elbow once again and they ducked inside the lounge.

"You're right: we shouldn't have been sitting out there gossiping for the whole world to see. Alright? You scared the hell out of her I'd wager though. But really Fuck you. Unsupervised?" She waged her finger at him in an effort to try and be funny, but it didn't come out that way. She let lines of worry work their way onto her brow. "You're not too upset are you?"

"No, I'm not upset." She let out her breath audibly, making him almost smile. "But really, you can't tell her that." She stared at him--he seemed to be reading her mind. She was just about to go out and calm Siobhan down and tell her he wasn't really upset--how funny.

"It's alright if you joke at my expense, you'll leave here in a short time. Besides we are something different to each other. But I will have her in my classes for the next two years. If I lose her respect or she starts to not take me and my threats seriously, then I've lost her." And beyond that, if they cannot deal with me, then the real world will eat them alive.

"Is that because she's a student or a Slytherin especially?"

His eyes flickered at her, "It's because she's a student. It's especially important because she's a Slytherin."

"God bless us, each and every one..." Georgie affected a high-pitched singsong voice.

He ran his hand through his hair and frowned. She could see his thoughts racing--he'd been used to his hair being longer and was taken aback for just a moment, but quickly recovered.

"Extraordinary thing happened last night." He caught her eyes a brief moment before seating himself. "At close to dawn, I hear a peculiar noise come from the foot of my bed. Naturally I'm not of the trusting disposition that would dismiss the noise as 'old-floors' or even 'just a ghost' or something to that tune. No, can you guess what monster I discovered as I leapt up to blast it to oblivion with my wand."

"At least you were quick with your wand, shows you're cautious." She muttered dryly.

"Didn't answer my question." His tone took on the teaching edge.

"Haven't the foggiest."

"Lovely." He smiled sarcastically. "It was Marco Polo."

"Oh!" Georgie's eyes flew open.

"Again. He was eating pages from a book I'd set aside."

"But he likes you! I can't figure out how he gets out. I securely shut the door and he ends up out in the lounge or your rooms. I don't know how." She explained. "He likes you though. Don't know why..."

"Nor do I. But that is beside the point. I unfortunately don't know what to do about him. I thought to suggest a leash of sorts...." He looked at her face horror-stricken, "But I guessed you'd be as warm to the idea. Perhaps a bell around his neck?"

"Marco Polo is not a cat." Georgie angrily defied him.

"Oh, but yes he is. He lies about the entire day before the fire. He goes where he chooses to go and Merlin forbid if you try and relocate him. He eats and sleeps and that is all. No tricks, no entertainment, no real use or value. You should get rid of him."

"You're nasty. Marco Polo isn't going anywhere. He's a wonderful dear to me."

This was like having an intelligent argument with the brick wall. "No, he's not being wonderful to you." He snarled. "It's a ridiculous reptile. He's not concerned one whit about how your day went, your feelings are unimportant. All he cares for is his warm place by the fire and bit of greens for dinner. That's all. He's a parasite, not a pet. You imagine things."

"I do not. Marco Polo recognizes me, and if I feel low he drags his little self over to sit by me and gets petted. He's a dear comfort and he listens to my ramblings. He's wonderful and a sweet little friend."

"I can't believe you think that." He was on his feet and pacing back behind the couches, arms flailing dangerously. "I thought you had more reason than that--to be duped by an inferior beast. A reptile that no more cares for you than it does the bookcase. The only distinction between you and it for him must be the bookcase is thankfully more silent."

"He's not a reptile, you twit! He's an amphibian. And you certainly couldn't understand the whole concept of having a pet. It's like therapy: you care for something smaller and frailer than yourself. It gives you a sense of worth and importance by doing well. And so the bloody hell what if I imagine he listens to me and understands! Sometimes all I would like would be someone to just listen to me and not talk back. To not make me feel stupid or naive, someone to just sit there and smile dumbly up at me as if to say, 'see, we dumb creatures have to stick together' and 'it's not so bad' and things. I need to hear nothing to hear myself say everything's fine." She was shaking now and clearly close to being out of control. "What the hell's the matter with you?"

She turned and stalked heavily out of the room shutting the door as lightly behind her as possible under the circumstances, growling "Fuck you" under her breath.

"What happened back there?" He slowed into the slow calculated steps she was taking. He had followed her out of the castle minutes later and found her nearly tiptoeing along a hedge by the boathouse. It was still drizzling down and there was a mist rising up from the lake, drifting above it like low-flying clouds.

She sighed and avoided eye contact. "Sometimes I think I'm going mad. Really mad, for real. Like, lock-me-up sort of nutters."

"You're not going mad." He said patiently.

"You don't know that."

He shrugged. "Fine, you're going mad. What do you want me to do about it? I can pack you of to St. Mungo's or I can pack you off to St. Mungo's? Why do you want to be there? Personally I'd rather be in Azkaban than down there..."

"I don't want to be anyplace. I just can't stop thinking things."

"Care to elaborate."

She let the rain fall on her face undisturbed for a minute. "You know how if you foul up really big, something embarrassing, you get that replay in your mind all the time? You can't help but think about what a fool you were, how silly you must've looked. It haunts your days, and makes it so you can't sleep without a feeling of overwhelming shame."

She paused and looked at him properly, perhaps for the first time that day. "Your haircut suits you." Then looking away, "Perhaps you haven't had that experience."

"Rubbish, of course I have. Don't think so inhumanly of me."

She attempted a smile. "It's like that.... except...." She bit her lip.

He narrowed his eyes at her. "Except you didn't trip over the metaphoric banana peel and get laughed at by your entire class. It's something else."

"Yes, something...."

Infuriating woman, he sought out a low stone bench near a pathway and led her towards it. They sat down, "What haunts you during the day then?"

"I feel ashamed."

"Of what?" He was certainly startled.

"All the time."

"Of what? What did you do then?" Why must she be so cryptic?

"Me?" She shrank back from him as if he were on fire. "I didn't do a thing. That's part of it."

"I believe I'm starting to see where you're going now...." He bent his angular head and scratched at the back of his neck. "You're meaning about the..." He couldn't bring himself to say it outright. Of all the subjects in the world, what had happened was as unapproachable a topic as a forbiddance could get.

She nodded to him and looked in the opposite direction, far over her shoulder towards the dark forest. The mist over in that direction stood like a curtain obscuring all but the first few signs of underbrush and tree trunks. She wondered what the creatures of the woods did on slippery days like these.

"Well, we never really.... Well, we haven't ever really talked about that incident." He swallowed shortly. "I thought it best to not bring up painful things." If she wasn't so preoccupied she would have laughed heartily at Severus' discomposure.

"That's good of you." She spoke to him while staring in the complete opposite direction. "It's just that I think I'm going out of my mind. I can't get things out of my head and, no one will acknowledge that it even happened--and I know everyone's just trying to keep me from breaking down and crying like a child. I just don't know what will help me. I think about things all of the time. In classes, during meals--especially before I try and sleep. It's insane. Maybe there isn't a way to stop this way of thinking. I think it'd be quite all right if there wasn't."

He leaned forward over himself. "I've always found that if there were a cure-all for memories such as those, then it would be far too easy. Things that are too easy worry me. I don't trust them. At least one thing is very sure in this life: that things will be hard." He breathed deeply next to her on the bench, watching his own breath curl away like smoke through the rain. "I know people always say that it'll make you tougher or a more rounded-individual, but I haven't seen anything of that in every case. Some people break under pressures, sometimes there is no easy way out and sometimes things aren't fair and they hurt."

"Why bother than?"

"Age old question."

"So?"

"I don't know."

She nodded. "Me neither. I figure I know in my heart it's not the end of things, it's just awful hard at times. I feel so low and tired and sick of things all the times. And not being able to control thought and images, it's like living in a nightmare where I'm not asleep. Queer and sad."

"Since there's not much we can do, what are your plans?" He took her a bit more seriously this time. "You could get, er, professional help if you felt so inclined."

She burst out in boisterous laughter, which surprised him. "I know I am mad, and you know I'm mad, but I'd have a time of trying to really convince someone else, I'm afraid."

He nodded and she faced him, setting her hands on her knees determinedly. "Nothing to do about it. It's life, it just throws things like this. You just cope and mend the best you can. I've had practice." She tacked on dryly. "I daresay we've all had far too much practice with it."

He could only imagine. "Well, I'm here. If you need abuse, arguments, banter or sarcasm---you do know where to find me."

"Oh yes, sorry about all this. I venture that that won't be the last you'll see of my deranged behavior. 'Inner demons trying to get out' and all." It was a running joke between them now.

"Nothing to it." He mussed her hair up with a look of seriousness on his face. "Siobhan's right: I have changed."

"Glad you hear it. I thought for a while you were blind."

"Touché."

"So what'll you do?"

"With what?"

"Being an angel or an ogre."

"Oh that. The inevitable."

"Which is?" She laughed at his style of vagueness.

"Ogre of course. I relish the looks on First Years' faces after having wet themselves when I sneak up on them. I offer no apologies for my behavior and I won't change." He smirked devilishly.

"Didn't want an apology. Why be other than yourself?"

"Enlighten me as to why we are sitting outside in the rain."

"I was trying to get myself committed. Why you are--I haven't a clue. Perhaps deep down you'd really like to test out those padded walls."

He got to his feet. "As long as I am not subject to the bedside manner of one Mediwitch in training by the name of George."

"I'm not that bad though!" She haughtily stood before him, trying to look taller than she was. "At least I don't think I am." She pretended to be considering whether she was or not and she looked down and bit her lip anxiously.

"You're wretched and no real good at it, might as well give it up." He sneered sardonically at her and his black eyes twinkled behind his expressionless façade.

"Yeah, I was thinking that," she snarled back at him with feeling.

"I however was thinking that I'd better keep an eye on you." His lips were a thin line of seriousness and he was watching her singularly.

"Thanks but no thanks." She bit her tongue just as she was about to protest that she could fend for herself. Severus guessed as much and a wicked, 'I- told-you-so' smirk spread across his features. "Anyhow, I'd like to see you try. I'm not an easy person to follow." In more ways than one, he checked himself from smarting off at her.

She burped. "I'd feel so much better once I'm inside with a bit of soda in me." He said nothing until they were both in the kitchens.

She came around behind him to sit back down in her own well-worn and apparently bashed-in chair. She hesitated at Severus' back and lifted a strand of limp black hair. "That's what I don't understand."

He looked at her with clear eyes. "My hair is fine--leave it be."

"Your hair's fine. I meant why did you have to go into town to get a haircut when you could just do it here--or I could. The spell's easy enough for babies to cast, just take a mirror and aim... it's so silly. I suppose it has more to do with what you brought back with you in that bag."

"How perceptive of you. I suppose it does."

"What is it?"

"A surprise."

"You're evil."

"Everyday. Ah, but you've known that."

She belched loudly and Severus cringed inwardly. "So about Marco Polo. What'll you do with him once you've left Hogwarts?"

"Well, I've decided I'm going to get a flat in London. Well, first I'm visiting family, then I'm getting my own flat. Then I'm going to get a job there. Marco Polo will have to get used to staying put I'm afraid or I'm packing him off to Aunt Sylvie's. She thinks it'd be great fun to take him on, but I'm not ready to give him to her just yet. He is my pet and he means something to me. I'd like to keep him close."

"Keep your friends close..." He started.

"How morose of you. Typical, lovely and sly Severus. You must visit me over the summer, or else you will feel the wrath of one very brassed off George swooping down upon you."

He laughed out loud. "Oh yes, couldn't have that now, could we? Well, as I'm under threat of certain doom, I suppose I'll have to fit you in." She growled into the aluminium can.

"On closer examination, I've decided St. Mungo's isn't the place for me. No I was thinking some sort of a Rehab facility."

He frowned into his blisteringly-hot tea. "Why the devil would you want to go into Rehabilitation? You haven't anything to come clean off of."

"Caffeine's addictive isn't it? Perhaps I could just show up and say I was addicted to stimulants and be all mysterious about it. Some of those places are really posh, you know. Swimming pools and things."

"Oh yes, and that's reason enough to admit yourself to one of those places then? Have a fabulous time there."

"Just thinking," she excused.

"Somehow I highly doubt that."

"I agree with the biscuit. The biscuit is wise." She turned over some lumpy, ginger-smelling monstrosity. One of the House Elves was experimenting again.

"Is that your new way of changing the subject?"

"You mean the biscuit doesn't speak to you?" She tossed one at him and he snatched it from the air. Her eyes remained glued on his hands. "You've got claws, ma dear."

He was getting slowly more and more annoyed. "Well, Remus has fangs. I figured I didn't want to miss out on any of the excitement." He stiffly pulled himself up out of his chair. "It is now imperative that I go to my classroom and work on something. Come by if you feel so inclined, or don't if you do not." She smiled at him and nodded, well aware of the crumbs at the corner of her mouth.

Severus wandered by himself down the ever-darkening corridors and stairways. He was in what only he alone could recognize as a good mood. He was making progress, yes, genuine progress. His potion to counteract the Blinding Hex was making some headway. Yes, he was in a good mood. But even he knew when to quit for the day. He would have to await further shipments from the Ministry or go back into town himself the next day.

So he had broke off research for the day at an opportune moment, tidied up and joined the rest of the staff for a casual dinner. Georgie hadn't been there, but he wasn't about to call out any bloodhounds or tear apart the castle every time she missed a meal as Minerva had just tried to. No, he would have the good sense of mind to wait until she had missed two meals before he would resort to drastic measures.

She wasn't in the Common Room or the lounge so Severus lit a tiny green- tinged fire in the fireplace and strode to his bedchambers in the darkness. His suite was quite minimalist in appearance, thus never the draw to be cluttered and disorganized here. It just wouldn't have fit. He sat at his desk and yanked at his robes as he made himself somewhat comfortable. He summoned a quill from a table across the room, followed by a bottle of ink and took out several sheets of parchment from the desk drawer.

He scratched away for several minutes, concentrating on the task at hand and subconsciously he made a fire spring up in his poorly neglected fireplace when he felt the cold creep up around him. He paused and laid his quill aside for a stretch, allowing his mind and eyes to wander about the room. He stared hard at something catching his eye, something that didn't belong there. He rose and glided to one of his bookshelves. Here a bright purple paperback was wedged between a giant leather tome and a register of past ingredients ordered. He most certainly did not own any paperback books, especially a shockingly purple one. He slid it out into his hand, turning it over. The Re-Ordering of Time Made Simple. This wasn't his, and could safely wager a guess as to whom it did belong.

His eyes instinctively went to his left arm, draped in the inaccessible black fabric. He knew it to be there, ugly, marring his flesh, looking up at him with dead eyes....permanent. No, the past was closed for himself, and he wondered what she could have in mind with such a book--such a rather potentially dangerous book, judging by the ideas and theories presented in it. He doubted Georgie would be foolhardy enough to attempt to mix Muggle concrete sciences with her shoddy Magical Theories.

He returned with the thing to his desk, where he set it aside with a mind to either burn it or return it the next day.

Time flew by so quickly, Georgie felt like she was left grappling for the end of a cord being whisked out of her hands. Her birthday came and went and she begged Severus to not make a big thing out of it and he for once honored her wishes, as he secretly couldn't be bothered to make up a cake or anything else equally foolish. They stayed in and played cards with Remus and she suspected that they both allowed her to win. Ordinarily she'd have protested, but she was in too fine of spirits to cause a rift.

She was extraordinarily abusive of Severus but he just bit his tongue and tried for her sake to be civil. Severus hated card games of any kind to begin with, and knowing this, she almost brought herself to return the favor of courtesy. It was the sort of evening Georgie loved best, quiet and with good company and conversation. When they had tired of playing cards and ascertained that the night was still young, Georgie produced her musical instrument and Remus sat beside her and sang. Georgie simpered happily to herself, knowing Severus would infinitely appreciate his voice over her own.

Black is the colour of my true loves hair Her lips are like some rose fair She has the sweetest smile and the gentlest hands Oh I love the ground whereon she stands.

I love my love and well she knows I love the ground whereon she goes I wish the day it soon might come When she and I might be as one.

I'll go to the Clyde and mourn and weep Where satisfied I ne'er shall be Write her a letter, just a few short lines And suffer death 10,000 times.

Severus returned into the room with a bottle of wine in his hand. "Where ever did you learn that one?" He looked slightly amazed.

Georgie looked at Remus then back to herself, "Who're you asking?" Pointing to herself then back to Remus.

He seated himself before answering, "Both of you."

Georgie shrugged, "Siobhan taught me one afternoon when we had a window together. She's taught me heaps more like it. Lotsa older stuffs."

Remus flushed, "Yes, I learned the song from the twins. As well."

Georgie checked herself from asking which twin. Instead she smirked and stuck out her tongue at Snape. "Do you know it?"

"Yes, it's an old song."

"Old like you?" Georgie shot back.

"Even older than me, I'm afraid." He bantered. "I used to know someone who tried to teach me that song. I couldn't be bothered to slow down long enough to learn it."

Remus nodded in understanding. Georgie felt confused; always some inside joke.... "Who?"

Severus' face unconcernedly fell and he took no effort to hide it. "No matter, they're no longer about."

"Cryptic, but I'll take the cue." She laughed. She played a song and allowed Remus to sing beside the fire and Severus to just stare at them both over his goblet-rim. She vaguely remembered something someone had said at Severus' house--something about an old flame or something. Was it Andrew who had said it? She couldn't remember--her brain was too jumbled.

When the song finished, she hastily got to her feet and set aside the guitar. "I have to get outside, I think I'm goin' balmy. I'm too cooped up and suffocated. Going for a walk." She headed for the door. "Don't say anything interesting while I'm out." She didn't wait for a response or even a protest, but grabbed at her cloak and ran for the nearest exit.

Right upon stepping out into the night air, she wished she'd grabbed up a heavier cloak or a hat or a scarf or something, sure it was Spring, but it was also an unseasonably cool and wet Spring, and she wasn't fond of catching colds or sniffles.

"Impulsive me...brrr." She stepped off the walkway and onto the grass. She wouldn't go as far as the lake because she just knew that as soon as she got there she'd be frozen through and would be miserable all during the trek back up the castle. The grass was slick and she took smaller steps and lifted her eyes to the magnificent skies. Careful not to fall or dirty her robes too much she clambered over to the edge of the Forbidden Forest and walked half in, half out of underbrush.

She sat down on a very low small, flat stone hidden off in the shadows. She wasn't by Hagrid's place, the castle with it's prying eyes, or anything else. Here she was sure to be left alone. The sky was a brilliant dark blue and the stars shone like pinpricks in fabric. She remembered imagining a giant overturned bowl here once before...and perhaps it all really was a giant breakfast bowl....She giggled and scratched at her nose. Where's the cereal then? Are we the cereal?

She dug with her toe into the loose earth and watched her breath blow away on the cool air.....A twig snapped off to her right several yards off making her clutch her wand in her pocket and crouch in silence, her senses on alert.

Severus came into view, and she relaxed. "You're supposed to be a silent stalker, Severus."

"I did that for your sake. Rather for your nerves' sake." He stood a few feet away and looked down at her. "Aren't you cold?"

"Yes, but I've read you burn your flabby bits faster in the cold than in the warm, so I reckon if I take up residence in Greenland I'll be thin by Autumn." He didn't respond for a moment, then looked towards the feeble light still shining from the castle windows. "Remus had to leave to finish grading papers. Said he'd see you tomorrow."

"That's too bad." She said unemotionally.

"Could you stand up for a moment?" He shot a sidelong glance at her.

"Why?" She asked fidgeting to her feet. "I like wallowing in the mud."

"I would feel better doing this in a dignified and normal way."

"Doing what?" She asked excitedly. He had obviously piqued her interest.

"Could you shut your mouth for just a minute please?" He growled. "I got you a present."

"You didn't have to. I didn't get you a present on your birthday and I said- -"

"Shut-up." He took something from own of his numerous pockets. He laid a tiny wooden box into her hand and closed her fingers around it.

"What is it?" She asked, peering down her nose at it.

"Why don't you stop being daft and open it to find out."

She shot him a very annoyed look. She fumbled with the clasp of the lid. "You really didn't have to get me anything you know, company is enough for me, you know." She swore as the lid sprung open and caught at her finger.

"Oh my god, Severus...." she hissed in an awed whisper. "I really can't accept this." She lifted a golden chain from out of the box and lifted it up so she could examine what looked to be a huge rock set on it. "What is it?"

"A necklace."

"My God, is that thing real?!" She screeched as the muted light from the far-off castle reflected at last on the stone and sent a tinge of green sparking on their robes huddled around it.

"It's real, and I'm insulted you would even ask." He lifted the necklace with it's emerald up and out of her hands. He found the clasp with his dexterous fingers and turned Georgie away and around from him and flipped it over her head then quickly fastened it closed.

When she came to her senses she whirled on him, "Severus I really can't accept this. This is the nicest thing anyone's ever gotten me, but good Lord, you can't really afford to give this and it's just too much, and I'm such a fool, I'll probably drop it down the drains and really, it's appreciated but I can't, I just can't." She frowned and scratched at her arm.

He slapped her hands away meanly. "It's been in the family for years-- centuries In fact--and yes I could afford it, and I trust that you'll not lose it down the drain, and yes you are taking it. My finances, I'll have you know, are in quite excellent shape, not that it's any of your business. It has a charm on it and I'd prefer you to have it and to wear it."

"What charm?" She bit her lip anxiously; no she wasn't warming to it. It really was too much and it wasn't really in her style, but a charm...

"Can't tell you."

"Oh just fab." She rolled her eyes. "You joking?"

"No." His eyes gleamed down at her. "But it's very powerful."

"I hate you, and even worse--I hate myself."

"Why?"

"Because I like it," She burst out laughing embarrassedly. "I feel like a million pounds."

"It's not worth that." He replied dryly.

"I couldn't handle it if it were." She looked him in the eye and smiled shyly. "Thank you very much. I'm touched and well, honored too I guess. Thank you."

He shrugged. And looked away, but she wouldn't let him. She pounced on him, giving him a fierce hug, shaking and twisting him roughly about where he stood, nearly trying to uproot the man from the spot in which he stood. He allowed her to do this for a minute before wrenching her arms off of him, chuckling a little under his breath. "You're an odd one."

"Me?" She snorted, "You give expensive, simply massive ancient charmed jewels for birthday presents to a mere friend. You're mad."

She tried to steal a glance at her watch in the darkness, but she couldn't make out anything at all. "Was I out here for very long?"

"No, not very long."

"Can I ask you a question?"

"I don't know why you bother to ask that. It's a preliminary you'd throw out the window in a heartbeat if it suited you. Obstinate, headstrong nosy girl." She flinched at that description.

"Anyway, can you tell me who you and Remus were referring to--you're old acquaintance I mean? Who was it?"

He frowned deeply and drew a deep breath, "I can't tell you right now; my apologize, but I do have my reasons."

"I'm okay with that if you don't want to tell me. Do know that I think I know who it was all the same."

"Quite possible. I will tell you someday, just not today." She nodded. "Shouldn't we be heading back? We do have classes in the morning."

He took a step in the direction of the castle to indicate that he thought it was a good idea. She tucked the necklace under her robes--that would take some getting used to. Jewelry like that wasn't her normal thing.

She paced herself and caught up with Snape, "I'm not a mere girl." She huffed, and she leapt onto his back taking him down to the ground in surprise.

Severus rolled and sent her flying several feet backward onto the wet grass, landing on her back and laughing it off. "Incriminating that you didn't negate the 'nosy, headstrong or obstinate' descriptions." She was on her knees above him before the sentence was out of his mouth.

"You're getting old, Severus!" She teased as she flipped him on his back, he log-rolling just out her reach.

"Not quite that old, girl!" He raised his wand at her and she flew out of the way, dodging the spray of sparks narrowly.

Out of breath she shrieked, "Oh, so it's come to this has it!" She slipped her wand out, "If I murder you, you'll have no one to blame but yourself." She sent a stun in his direction, but he blocked it. "Damn," she muttered. She leapt closer to him, as he waited in his open stance. At such close quarters, it was difficult to use one's wand and it was preferential to fight physically. It was in this area only that Georgie had a chance at besting him.

"Why should I blame myself?" he snatched at her arm, as she came within his range, whirling her around his back and pinning her lightly to the ground. "Beside, you still have to murder me first."

She swept his legs out from under him, but he regained his balance quickly. But she took that short opportunity to twist all the way around on the cold ground towards his open-handed side and strain his arm that held her in his fast grip. "I could have murdered you since day one!"

He writhed as his arm twisted unnaturally, yanking her back sharply towards his person. "For no good reason, no doubt. Still, I have precautions set up around me. You however take no such measures."

She leaned back onto her back and lifted her feet into the air to deliver a double kick into his back causing him to crumple down to his knees.

"Just because I'm not a paranoid, delusional neurotic, doesn't mean I don't know how to look after myself." Still grasping his arm, as he grasped her arm in turn, she raised herself so she was facing his back, then dove onto the broad black robed surface, forcing him to double over upon himself.

"Everything you know, I've taught you." He crouched down and vaulted back over her entire body, sort of flipping over and down into a position standing directly behind her.

"Impressive," she allowed. "If so then you've created a monster, haven't you Doctor Frankenstein." She stepped back into his chest and wrenched his arm down below her knees making Severus buckle, down over her shoulder. "Plus I'm insulted that you think I don't know a few things by my own rights." She elbowed him a bit harder than she'd intended in the stomach, and followed that with a blow to his chest just below his neck. He doubled over, with a low "Oof."

He grabbed his stomach and sank to his knees, his whole body tense. Georgie let go of his arm and spun around to watch him crumble down. "Oh my gosh, Sev....." She started, then stopped. She hadn't meant to, really she hadn't. She bowed over him and took hold of both of his shoulders with her hands, kneeling gently to lower herself to his eye-level. "Sev, listen, I'm sorry, I didn't--"

Her hands suddenly weren't on his shoulders, but instead he had taken them both up in one of his and thrown her to the ground in front of himself. He knelt and drew himself up in that position, grinning maniacally at her. One of his hands pinned her hands--both of them--above her head. He planted his free hand beside her head and leaned over her. "I hate being called Sev. Black always calls me Sev." He could not stand Sirius Black, tolerate him yes--but he really did loathe him nearly all of the rest of the time.

She snorted, but was still enraged, and wouldn't let him go that easily. She wriggled beneath his strength, but even her legs were ineffectual as they were stuck beneath one of his legs. "I really don't like you." She hissed.

"That was a perfect example of the difference between you and I."

"What? That you're a cheating, rotten, sneaky bastard, or did I miss something else?" She was breathing hard now.

"No, that you put your guard down. You never put your guard down, until the enemy is incapacitated or out of the picture."

"But you're not the enemy!" She bellowed as she wriggling even more, as the cold and damp of the earth prickled her neck.

"But I could have been," He leaned over her and his eyes glittered. "No compassion on the battlefield. You are neither judge nor jury. You're one objective is to bring down the enemy, then get out."

"Oh, hush up, you big prat. "I'm sick to death of you're trying to teach me lessons! You're my friend, and this isn't the battlefield. Of course I'm going to check to make sure that my friend is alright, you idiot." She freed one of her legs and brought a knee up to her chin. "You can't change the rules on me halfway through the game." She planted her shoe squarely on his chest and hefted him off of her and to his feet. She struggled up, using her hand to steady herself, "Less than graceful." He commented on her rising, thus she answered by mustering up her remaining strength to send a vicious kick to his right knee, "Tosser." He snarled and looked up at her, his eyes flashing with sheer anger. But he didn't frighten her anymore.

Georgie haughtily brushed off bits of grass and damp where she could, then gave up. Shaking out her arms, and cocking her head to the castle, she posed to him, "So are to be my enemy or my friend: for once and for all, make the decision." He raised his wand and a jet shot out encompassing her. She couldn't react though--her whole body was like lifted up like a rag-doll and she felt as if her very muscles were ripping off of her bones. She closed her eyes in vain and screamed out in pain at the Stretching and the Binding spells used at the same time on her.

"Friend." He spoke tight-lipped. "I've had enough of enemies." The spell ceased as quickly as it had began and Georgie fell the few feet down to the ground. She heaved deep breaths, then straightened herself out, smoothing her clothing beneath her palms. She would look the part of grace under fire to him, no matter what. But she just couldn't no matter how she struggled right then--she burst out in raucous laughter and snorted and twittered and choked. "Sorry, it's just too much--we're just too damn weird!" He straightened up to his full height next to her.

She bit at her nails lightly as she struggled to bring herself under control, and he slapped at her hands to get them away from her mouth. "I'm cold," She grumbled defiantly and lead the way back. As they came closer to the castle, she piped up, "Uh, Severus you've got a bit of grass in your hair."

He ran his hand through it, and shook his head. "Gone?" He sounded disinterested.

"Uh, not. It's just a bit...right there." She bit her lip as he batted around it. "No, still there."

"This is ludicrous." He roared at her. "Just yank it out, will you. Stop sidestepping around."

"You want me to get it?" She asked, slightly squeamishly, and the tone wasn't lost on him.

He sneered at her, obviously hurt. "No, I'll take care of it inside."

Georgie was quick though, "Never mind, I'll get it." She reached up above her head and swiped at the flecks of grass and worked the blades out. "There, now you look presentable."

He choked, "Presentable? To what?"

"Just a figure of speech, you look fab no matter what. Mah-velous." She stopped herself from getting carried away there. She didn't want to burn in hell over any lies she told to Severus Snape now did she? And he still was sallow-skinned, and greasy-haired and colorless in all senses, she had just trained herself to look beyond that when possible.

"You're a little fool."

"I'm not a little fool, I'm just shorter than you. Hell, half the world is smaller than you. Don't give yourself airs because you're taller than everyone else." She held the door for him to pass through and into the building. "Because that's all it is, I'm afraid. We're all horrible nobodies."

"I don't make friends with nobodies, and I'll be dashed if someone considered me a nobody."

"Analyze, analyze, analyze..." She scolded "You say it's my birthday!" She suddenly belted out in the Common Room. "It's my birthday too!" Snape grabbed her wrist and yanked her into the lounge.

"Would you shut-up!" He looked at her wild-eyed after shutting the door securely behind him. "It's too late for that."

"It's better when you're singing it with someone else, wanna have a go? You can sing the 'you say it's your birthday' bit, then I'll say the--"

"I'm not joining you in some chant. I don't care whose birthday it is, I'm certainly not singing."

"Question." She stated.

Snape, walked around the back of the couch then seated himself comfortably in his usual spot before replying. "Go on." He looked haggard all of the sudden.

She thought better of it, "No, never mind, I'll ask another time." He followed her with his eyes, disbelievingly.

"Then would you consider answering one of mine?" He posed.

"Gee, what is with tonight and this politeness and asking-before-asking rubbish?" She laughed.

"You know who attacked you: who else was it?" Her face was stricken, and he almost regretted asking her in such an abrupt manner, but it was worse not knowing. He knew he directly couldn't do anything to a student, and even if she tried to accuse someone while they were still underage, they would receive lenient sentences....

"I would tell you, truly I would--It's just, I have my own timing. And you'd eat yourself up over it and it'd be awful, watching you freak out over it, and you couldn't do anything now anyhow." She shivered suddenly at a recollection which she didn't share with him. "Dumbledore knows," Severus started at this--this was new information to him--"But he suggests I wait until the end of the year at least before bringing him before a jury."

"Why?"

"I don't know all of Dumbledore's reasons. But I don't want to have to deal with it anymore during this school term at least. Albus figures he might have a change of heart or something, might not be as bad as we all think...deserves second chances and all."

"That's ridiculous."

She fumed. "It was my decision to make ultimately. I don't mind being swayed by Dumbledore's council." She leaned back and closed her eyes, massaging her temples. "There's nothing I'd rather do than forgive and forget that it ever happened."

"I cannot do that as easily."

"Now you understand why I cannot tell you just yet." He glared at her. "I knew if I told you, you'd act on it. If you promise that you'd do nothing of the sort, then I'll tell you and I'll apologize for jumping to such a wrong conclusion." Severus remained silent and bore holes through her with his eyes. "See, there. Besides you have enough to worry about."

"What if he tries it again?"

"He can't, Dumbledore is keeping a close eye on this individual for the rest of the year." Severus knew it to be truthful enough. He himself was keeping an extra close eye on her as well. If only for the rest of the year--must mean he's graduating. He knew who that would have to be then. She had all but told him who it was, but he couldn't do anything substantial could he, without betraying her trust? But perhaps it would be worth it--for the better good of the school. Severus slowly ground his teeth and let out a long, slow hiss.

"Anyway," She was obviously attempting to change the subject. "It's only a few more weeks. Quidditch coming up, testing, things to do, people to see and all that." She pointed out lightly.

"Yes, I suppose you're right." He replied grudgingly at last. He really felt she was being foolish to allow an enemy his freedom--and at so close a distance. But perhaps it would work out for the best. Though in his experience it usually didn't.

Georgie was kneeling before the table in the lounge squinting in the dying light of the day, trying to scratch out something on a long scrip of parchment. He breezed in, nodding at her as she paused to look up and smile at him before returning to her task at hand. "You'll ruin your eyes if you keep trying to read by this sorry light." He waved his hand and the candles and fireplace roared to life.

"Ha, there you go--assuming everything. Giant ass. I'm not reading--I'm writing!"

He snorted. "And that's better?" And he seated himself, setting his books in his lap.

"Hey, Severus?" She didn't look up to him, but twirled her quill absently between her fingers. He could already spot an ink blotch on her finger. "What's your house called? I remember reading it somewhere or maybe you told me. Anyhow, I've forgotten."

He allowed himself a smile. "It won't help you to figure out the island. It's not on your map."

"I don't want to know for that reason." She looked up at him and met his eyes. "I want to know the name of your house. You've already said it, so if you could, would you just say it again?" She pleaded.

"It has many names--old houses have that common trait--comes from various owners wishing to exercise their power or some such nonsense."

"So which name did you call it when I heard it?"

"Probably Darogan." He watched her for signs of recognition.

"Um, could be." She shrugged and scratched something down.

"What exactly are you doing?"

"Writing the name down, you dolt."

"Of course, but why?" He hissed.

"So I won't forget it."

He leaned back against the staunch cushions. "Why ever would you forget? And why would you care if you did so?"

"Well, I'm thinking, this is the end of my year. Next year I may be in Timbuktu and after that who knows, ya know?" He smiled at her wording. "Anyway, I don't want to forget people and places and things fifty years from now, hence I'm writing it down."

"That knowledge stands a better chance in your mind than on a piece of paper that you'll inevitably lose, burn, soak, tear, bury......"

"Point taken." She laughed dryly. "What's a Daragon?" Georgie pronounced the name purposefully slowly.

"Dar-O-gan," he corrected delicately. "Well, it's obviously my house." He wasn't about to surrender information so easily.

"Thank you so very much." She said sarcastically.

"You could try a journal or a diary to remember these things as they happen."

"I could." She murmured without popping her head up. "It's a bit late now, isn't it?" She raised her gaze to his level. "What? You do that sort of thing?"

"On occasion."

"Hm, didn't peg you for the type."

"And what type would that be?" His temper visibly fraying. He had had just about enough of her constant insinuating and analyzing of his person.

"I dunno. Sensitive type?" She grinned at him teasingly.

"Georgie, you see what pleases you rather than reality."

"Not always," She allowed and dipped her quill down once more.

"Yes, always." He frowned. His mind raced away from the present and he imagined possible dangers and situations that could stem from such a practice. But to her he replied only: "Always you do."

"Peggin' me right back...." She laughed. "It's always hardest to fit onto the 'triangle-shaped pegs' I've found at least....."