The following weeks felt like I had become an entirely different person. I was less temperamental, almost looked forward to the exams and most of all I had stopped killing every insect within my reach. Even Severus noticed something in my behaviour and if he was worried he did a great job pretending that he was not. In the middle of March on a Friday evening we had our first unofficial end-of-school-celebration in the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom. As usual, only specially invited sixth years, parents and teachers were allowed in, since the event had been carefully planned and put into action by students of our year - not teachers. This was our way of saying goodbye to Hogwarts.
"I would especially like to welcome our guest of honour, Professor Dumbledore," Stanley Jordan, a good-looking, black boy with dreadlocks, spoke into an imaginary microphone. "Also I'd like to register my astonishment... erm," he coughed, "endless delight, of course... about the huge number of teachers who're with us this year." Everyone laughed. I knew, however, that he was being more or less serious. At events like this most teachers were usually too afraid to turn up, since they were likely to be either mimicked or asked to do participate in all sorts of more or less refined games. Not this year, though. Jordan and his friends had carefully built up the show without ridiculing anyone too much, in order to persuade a fairly large number of teachers into coming.
Jordan, of course, was a genius. He could make people laugh effortlessly. His commentary was interesting, fluent, and most of all entertaining. The atmosphere inside the classroom was exceptionally good and Jordan did not seem to get tired of pacing up and down the improvised stage, telling jokes or mimicking famous wizards and witches one after another.
"For the first time in years, I have been told," he said with a broad grin, "there're enough teachers present so that we can give out a few awards, such as..." Juliana Brown did a drum roll, "...this year's Favourite-Teacher-Award," Jordan continued, "which goes to Professor Flitwick." Everyone clapped. Flitwick entered the stage looking embarrassed and flattered at the same time and Jordan presented him a book. Severus raised an eyebrow.
"An imaginative present, I must say," he muttered. "Imaginative and unexpected..."
"Well, you won't ever have to worry about the Favourite-Teacher-Award anyway." I told him, causing him to give me a appreciative grin.
"True."
"Next," Jordan exclaimed, "there are some awards we think members of our year should receive." The audience fell silent. Some people grinned. They knew what was about to come. Jordan and his friends would definitely not honour those, who were going to get an official award for their achievements at the end-of-year banquet anyway.
"The most frequent truant in our year," Jordan said, "is Josh Keaton. During seven years at Hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry he missed 159 lessons without EVER having an excuse for it." Everyone clapped and cheered. Josh Keaton bowed and strutted towards the stage. I saw Dumbledore and Professor Lewis exchange a few words. Flitwick, sitting at a chair next to Severus bend down and said, "I remember being actually afraid of the kind of excuse he would come up with in the end." Severus nodded. His face, however, retained its usual coldness.
"Suzan Grint of Slytherin," Jordan drowned out the applause, "Terrence Dawson of Ravenclaw, Cathy Fisher of Hufflepuff. Could you come up here?"
They came.
"Well, well, well...", Jordan said, "You three and I have much in common." Some people giggled. Others looked puzzled or anticipating. "We are to blame," Jordan explained, "for the highest number of the points our houses - lost. Sorry, guys."
The audience burst into applause and laughter and Suzan, Terrence and Cathy grinned apologetically. Dumbledore chuckled into his white beard and even Severus let slip a small, sardonic grin at Jordan's self-irony and put his arm around my shoulders.
"We'll pin up a full statistic of won and lost points at the notice-boards in the common rooms," Jordan explained. "They're awfully long and complicated. But really funny. There is, however, one teacher we'd like to give an extra award as far as the House Cup is concerned."
He waited until the audience had fallen completely silent again.
"One of the teachers," he explained, "has NEVER taken a single point from any of the four houses. Only ever awarded them. The Fairest-Teacher-Award goes to... Professor Lewis!" This time most students clapped and cheered and Professor Lewis took his prize with a thankful smile. When he was about to leave the stage, however, Jordan grabbed his arm. "Wait a second, Professor, I am afraid you'll have to take yet another award if that is okay with you."
I grinned. So did Professor Lewis.
"As it happens," Jordan said, "most students' favourite subject was Defence Against the Dark Arts. I am very sorry, but you'll have to take credit for that, too, even if you have only been with us for a year. You have magicked yourself straight into people's hearts, Professor."
Some students nodded in agreement. Some people clapped again and Professor Lewis suddenly seemed very touched.
"Thank you," he said. "I have enjoyed our lessons and won't ever forget you. I know exactly how you feel - I am sorry to go, too."
The room fell silent.
"You... are leaving?" Jordan enquired. Lewis nodded. "Sadly yes. I have been offered a job in Transylvania which I cannot reject."
Jordan considered this for a while.
"You're in for another award then," he said slowly, "for the fifth Defence teacher in a row who did not last more than a year." Some students giggled. Dumbledore nodded appreciatively. Severus grinned. I felt his hand resting almost casually on my shoulder and I could not think of anything but my feelings at my parents' grave. What great comfort was his presence at this moment...
"Our next award," Jordan continued when everyone had calmed down again, "goes to Florence Dyker." People clapped and I stared at him in disbelief.
"Don't look like you hadn't expected that," Jordan said. "Just come and collect it!"
"What is it for?" I demanded to know. "You would not be awarding lack of common sense, would you?"
Some people laughed.
"No, but thanks for the idea," Jordan said cheerfully. "I am sure our sixth years will appreciate..." A cheerful giggle filled the room and I made up my mind eventually, climbing the stage to receive my award, whatever it was going to be.
"Florence," Jordan explained, "receives an award for the most time spent the least popular way there is at Hogwarts. Over the years, she has spent precisely 197 hours in detention."
I heard laughter and applause.
"Thanks," I said with an embarrassed grin and turned to leave the stage again.
"But there is something else we would like to give you, Florence," Jordan said quickly, with a mischievous smile. "We'd like to award you a medal." I raised an eyebrow and looked at him rather suspiciously.
"What for?"
"Read for yourself!" he said mysteriously and handed me a huge, golden self-made paper-medal. "Award for the extraordinary achievement," I read, "of 249 shattered cauldrons in seven years."
A snort of laughter, clearly belonging to Severus, broke the silence and caused a wave of giggling, especially among the younger students. They were very obviously not used to this kind of outburst from their austere Potions master.
"Calm down!" Jordan said grinningly. "We have a lot of medals left, though I must say this was the only one we unanimously decided to give out."
I smiled and curtsied.
"Thanks." I said again. "And apologies to everyone who involuntarily tested my potions for me in all those years." And I sat down again, noticing a warm feeling rise inside myself when Severus curiously examined my medal, automatically pulling me into a weird sort of half-embrace again as he did.
Later, when most of the teachers and, of course, the students had long retired to their dormitories, Severus and I were strolling along the corridors, passing empty classrooms, rattling armours and cheerfully waving portraits. We also met Peeves, the poltergeist, who gave us a nasty smile and started yelling all sorts of insults. We, however, chose to ignore him and continued our way towards the dungeon stairs, were we finally came to a halt.
"Well," said Severus. "You must be rather tired... or would you care for a small glass of butterbeer?"
"I am sure Miss Dyker is very tired and needs to proceed to Gryffindor tower without delay!" a very sharp voice came out of the darkness. We jumped. Right behind us, Professor McGonagall appeared as if out of thin air. She had a well-known, extremely disapproving look on her face, which told me that I was in severe trouble.
"It is not June yet," she barked. "There are another three months to go! Are you aware of that?" I gave her a puzzled look. Severus, however, understood immediately. He presented an uneasy grin, but tried to look very grown-up when saying, "I merely offered Miss Dyker a drink, Professor McGonagall. Surely..."
"Well, Professor Snape," McGonagall interrupted. "You might want to consider the Ministry's opinion about the nightly exchange of 'liquids' in the Hogwarts dungeons next time. After you, Miss Dyker."
Severus hesitated. "You are probably right," he remarked coldly after a second, ignoring the surprised look at McGonagall's face - and mine. "Some rest will do me so much good. I don't suppose I should fall asleep when my house wins the Quidditch cup tomorrow morning." And with an ironic bow he glided down the staircase towards his private chambers at the end of the dungeon corridor. I threw a curious look at Professor McGonagall. Her expression was easy enough to read. Severus had hit the bull's eye.
"Heaven knows, I do think he has got a point," she said almost regretfully, but suddenly remembered where she was again and gave me a very stern look. "Do you by any chance remember our conversation earlier this year?" she asked.
I nodded. "Yes, but..."
"And you do realize that this is serious business?"
"Yes, Professor, but..."
"There are rules one cannot bend, I'm afraid," she said. "No exceptions are to be made, not even for unusual couples like yourselves."
"But we are not..." McGonagall raised her hand.
"You will return to your bedroom before midnight," she said, giving me a scrutinising look. "I want it understood that, should I receive knowledge that you have not spent the rest of the night in your own bed, I will take legal actions against Professor Snape." I gave her a very confused look. Then, slowly, I realised what this meant.
"Thank you," I stammered but Professor McGonagall had already climbed the stairs and disappeared from my sight again. I, on the other hand, turned and headed down the same corridor in which Severus had vanished.
Severus's private quarters were guarded by the portrait of a European nobleman, dressed in glittering black robes, whose name, I recalled, was Lord Krolock. The man on the painting seemed fast asleep, until I stood right in front of him, wondering how on earth I was going to get in. Very unexpectedly, however, the dark man opened his eyes and smiled.
"Miss Dyker," he said in an astonishingly sociably way, "what a rare pleasure to see you at this time of night..."
I had hardly any time to be surprised about his most unusual hospitality, since he practically shoved me into the dark, rectangle room, where the only light came from a small bowl in which a silvery liquid distantly shimmered.
"Probably one of his scientific experiments." I thought and groped my way along towards another door. I had suddenly the strong impression of reliving some moment of my past, and it took me a while to realize that this was just an ordinary déja-vu. Then, slowly and reluctantly, I opened the door and stepped into the complete darkness of Severus's bedroom. Not even his outline was visible, but I heard his typical, even breathing from the other end of the room and approached him silently. In front of his four-poster bed I came to a halt, stood there for the split of a second and, after that, simply kneeled down. Our faces were now only a few inches apart - I could feel a warm puff of air in my face and took a deep breath myself. Then I moved forwards. Touched him with my lips. Careful, inquiringly... First his cheeks, then his hooked nose... and finally his lips. He let it happen. Our noses touched and slowly, gradually he raised his head, hesitated for another second and finally returned my kiss very gently - almost naturally.
Severus does not think much of broad conversation. He is no Prince Charming and would certainly not come to his princess's rescue when she is locked a sky-scraping tower. Strictly speaking, he is much more the person who stops under her window, requesting whether it isn't rather draughty up there. Severus is a cynic who has covered his strengths well under a great deal of highly unpleasant layers. But I knew what he was like. Better, perhaps, than everyone else. And I was like him: a desperate warrior, longing for a glimpse of light. We belonged together - tonight at least, and in many of the following ones.
No one noticed. I was always back in Gryffindor before midnight. My thoughts, though, remained in the dungeons after this evening, where Severus and I had finally overcome the barrier - the last remaining barrier - between us.
As time went by, most of my fellow students became aware that the N.E.W.T.s were, in fact, not too far away now. I felt a serious lack of confidence concerning my final exams, but could not bring myself to actually work for them either. One of my classmates had already been promised a leading position within the Ministry of Magic and most of the others had learned to disapparate over the past year. Personally, I felt that I had neither the strength nor the time for this, and I kept telling myself that I had been too involved in my studies, which at least was not a total lie.
And then the day arrived. I decided to do my best and be happy about it, which saved me half the trouble. Professor Sprout, one of the younger teachers teaching Herbology, was actually so impressed by my cheerful expression during the exam that she gave me a passing grade before I even had the chance to list all the herbs one can use to cure dandruff. Herbology, however, was not the examination I had dreaded for ages, the subject that gave me regular nightmares, although I had tried my best to succeed in it. The only subject I was (admittedly) almost certain to flunk was Potions...
To get an idea of what kind of problem I had here, one has to understand requirements of this subject. On the one hand, during those seven years at school one has to learn about eighteen thousand potion ingredients by heart. It is furthermore required that one can arrange them in categories and thus predict their effect in several different kinds of potions. This only works, however, if one has a detailed idea of the nature of those eighteen thousand ingredients. So an abnormally well-trained brain is required above everything. Of course, for the eventual preparation a considerable amount of magical skill is needed as well, just like in any other subject. Many potions can actually only be concocted if you have your wand at ready. Even if Severus does not like to admit it - a bit of wandwaving will provide almost any correctly brewed potion with the desired effect.
Finally, most importantly one should say, there is the preparation of the ingredients. The necessity of complete accuracy and the ability to blindly react the exactly right moment cause many people to think that brewing potions is really more art than science. I, for instance, have been declined both qualities in nature. In fact, I know exactly why Severus of all has always been outstanding in Potions. I know why Slytherins traditionally achieve the best results in this subject and I am fully aware of what I have always been doing wrong.
All this knowledge was not exceedingly helpful, however, when I entered the dungeon vaults, in which all the students were waiting to be called in separately, half an hour before my exam, sweating and shaking all over. Jenny seemed to be the only one who understood completely what I was going through. She had a similar torment to live through, though it was not Potions but Transfiguration she feared. I was in fact quite surprised about the amount of attention she offered, actually taking me into her arms, looking straight into my eyes and saying, "You can do it. He can't fail you. He won't!"
I nodded, but my hands were still shaking. Of course Severus would help me as much as he could, but there were some things I would definitely need to do on my own. Unfortunately, preparing the ingredients, at least partly, was certain to be one of them. Naturally, Jenny knew about that as well, so I did not reply and merely pressed her comforting arm as appreciatively as I could. A few minutes later she had to leave for another exam, though, and I was on my own for the rest of the time.
I did not have to wait very long now. Most of the students before me returned within thirty minutes although we were given forty-five.
"I wish I could leave that soon," I mumbled when entering the room. "Maybe I should just set the room on fire..."
Inside, the first thing I noticed were the examiners. There were three of them instead of just one, though the third one was here to observe Severus, who had told me that our finals were some sort of examination for him as well, having finished his two years of probation.
"Come in, Miss Dyker," Severus said and I tried very hard to read his expression. Did he think I could do it? He had to have read the exam paper beforehand.
"This is Mr. Sawyer and Mr. Troy of the Ministry of Magic," he said and pointed at the examiners to his right and left side. An uncertain smile appeared at his face and at this moment I realised, completely out of the blue, that this, my exam depended solely on a considerable amount of luck on my side.
"And this is Mr. Weasley," he continued, "Don't mind him - he is here to watch me, not you."
The three examiners laughed politely and Severus pointed at the cauldron in the middle of the room, where a sealed envelope contained the description of the potion I would have to brew. I swallowed hard and followed his outstretched arm. With trembling hands I opened the envelope and read aloud: "There are many possibilities to cure amnesia, one, however, is more effective than all the others. Tell the examiners which one and brew the appropriate potion." My stomach contracted with fear when I realised which potion the envelope wanted me to prepare.
"The - the 'Remember-Me-Elixir' of 1763," I stuttered. "It is the most effective potion against amnesia of all times and consists mainly of roots. The Uphilia-root, which can be found near slopes and brings instant death if taken in large quantities."
The examiner smiled appreciatively, not knowing that what gave me real difficulties was yet to come. Severus, who knew all about my inability of putting this piece of theoretical information into action, and who had presumably more experience with 'Remember-Me-Elixirs' than his colleagues was as tense as before. I approached the cauldron in a considerably calm manner and began to select ingredients from the store behind me. To my enormous relief the roots had already been pressed. This, however, did not safe me the trouble of deciding how much of it needed to be added to the potion. Just a drop more than necessary was likely to kill the victim (sorry - patient!) instead of curing them.
With shaking hands I prepared the other ingredients and could not help wondering how all the others had completed their task in less then twenty minutes. Naturally, I needed more. After a seemingly endless while one of the examiners looked at his watch and said, "We've passed the time-limit, Miss Dyker..." I nodded.
"Just adding the Uphilia," I said calmly, but I was not at all as confident as I appeared to be. Many things had worked out extraordinarily well during the last thirty minutes, but I had still no idea how much Uphilia essence was needed, and I did not have the faintest idea how I was going to find out. Could Severus give me a hint? Probably not. So, after a short moment of silence, I used the way that had brought me through seven years of Potions lessons. I guessed. One, two, three... The potion assumed a greenish colour.
"Green for Slytherin," I reflected, "red for Gryffindor." And in a fit of newly gained confidence I added two more drops to the boiling liquid which started to whiz ominously. I raised my head. Severus was backing away an inch, obviously straining not to cover his face with his hands. The examiners, on the other hand, looked slightly nervous. A swish inside the cauldron drew my attention back to the potion and I saw that the liquid had transformed into white, glittering foam. I held my breath.
"Get yourself out," a very clear voice inside my head suddenly told me and I felt my head jerk up in surprise, watching Severus, whose black eyes seemed were boring into mine as if his life depended on it. "It's all you can do now!"
So I turned, gave the three examiners what I hoped to be an apologetic look, and fled. As soon as I had shut the door behind my back a huge bang inside the room gave evidence that the experiment had indeed gone up the walls. I sighed, shook my head and left the dungeons with a very bad feeling in my stomach.
The following days were worse than everything I had had to endure so far. Revising for the exams had been nerve-racking enough, but waiting for the results was even worse. Severus knew what I was going through and tried to calm me down.
"Potions wasn't too bad," he told me when we were sitting in his room for a cup of tea on the last evening of the examination week. "The examiners were rather pleased... at the beginning. I would go as far as to say they wouldn't even have noticed what complete rubbish your potion was, if you had only stopped at two drops Uphilia. That's why I chose this potion in the first place - it's widely unknown amongst the elder generations. But naturally, there was no way I could have foreseen that you would add the whole lot."
He grinned. I, on the other hand, sighed miserably.
"Which means there is going to be an additional examination, I guess. I had this feeling that I would have do one. I should probably be thankful that they give us a second chance at all, shouldn't I? But still... the thought of going through all this again..."
"Who said you'll have to do the extra one?" Severus said calmly. "You haven't ruined everything, you know. Trust me, this insignificant explosion (and destruction of half the dungeon, if I might add) will most certainly not have any influence on the high passing grade I intend to give you." I gave him an blank stare.
"You... you can still do that?" He smiled almost mischievously.
"I should certainly think so."
"B-b-but the examiners," I stuttered. "They'll have a say in it, won't they?"
"You'll find that I can be very... persuasive," said Severus with something sounding like a vague, subliminal menace in his voice. "Mind you, the examiners are trusting fools anyway. I have a rather good reputation within the ranks of Potion brewers. Did I mention that I was just recently licensed to concoct veritasera, by the way?"
I chuckled and took another sip of tea. "No you haven't."
He leaned back and gave me a relaxed smile.
"If you can really do that," I muttered, "I will indeed never have to do another exam in my life. Auf Wiedersehen anxiety, au revoir work, sayonara exams - and welcome, Florence, to the world of grown-ups. What a pleasant -"
"- surprise. Even you did it," he added curtly. "Florence Dyker considers herself an adult now. Oh, how misleading final examinations can be..."
"Hey," I protested, poking his arm. "I am as much an adult as you are."
"The only difference is that you'll still have to call me 'Professor' until the end of June," Severus replied. "I insist on formalities."
We laughed and Severus summoned another teapot. Silently, but completely content we drank, both lost in thoughts of our own.
"I don't think I have ever been this happy," I said after a while. "No more exams... just sitting here, drinking tea with you... and most of all, I haven't had these horrible dreams about my parents for a while."
"So you've come to terms with their death?"
I nodded.
"I am... glad to hear it," he admitted. "I was afraid you would... draw the wrong conclusions."
"You though I was going to let him down," I said and smiled weakly. "The Dark Lord, I mean. You feared for my loyalty to our side."
"Well, I never really..."
"I have been thinking about it," I said very seriously.
Severus gave me a puzzled stare. "But you... belong to us. You can't just change your mind. The Dark Mark..."
"There's always a choice, Severus," I interrupted. "That's what life is all about: choices!" I stopped and considered for a while.
"And I choose you. I love you, Severus."
A swift smile lit his face. I looked into his black eyes unblinkingly. After a short, undecided silence he raised his pale hand and touched my face almost wistfully.
"I do not know how I come to deserve you, Florence," he whispered, his voice trembling of suppressed emotions. "In an earlier life I must have rendered outstanding services... to deserve an angel as a reward." He kissed my cheek. My heart gave an insane jolt.
"Yes," I whispered. "Perhaps."
Time passed all too quickly again. When I finally remembered McGonagall's words and raised rather reluctantly Severus got up as well.
"I'll take you upstairs," he said. "The castle is playing host to the most peculiar creatures at the moment..."
"If you are talking about James Potter..." I sad and he grinned.
"A fitting description, don't you think? Well, of course, it is. Your immediate guess proves it."
"You won't be able to totally avoid him at the party tomorrow," I teased. "Wouldn't you just love to invite him on a stich of Billywig?"
"Over his dead body," Severus growled. Then, suddenly, a thought seemed to strike him and his expression grew, if possible, even more hateful. "Is the other one... Sirius Black - is he coming as well?"
"Not that I know of," I quickly assured. "Shall we? I wouldn't put it past Professor McGonagall to report you to the school governors after all, if she finds that I don't stick to our agreement."
"And that is not even the worst she can do," Severus said, pulling a pained grimmace. "I suppose I could handle the governors, but you have no idea what kinds of remarks she drops in the staff room - and what they do to my reputation."
I did not dare ask what kind of remarks McGonagall did tend to 'drop', but the mere thought seemed to scare the wits out of Severus. In any case, he urged me forward all the way up to Gryffindor tower with increased speed. We came to a halt in front of the portrait of the Fat Lady.
"Sugar Lump."
With a broad yawning the lady nodded and when her portrait swung open I turned again.
"Well... see you at the party, then."
Severus remained silent. For a second I got the impression that he had not been listening, because his eyes were fixed at a point somewhere behind me. But the next moment he was composed again.
"What? Oh - yes, of course... see you tomorrow."
He bent slightly and kissed my cheek, then my neck. I seemed to disappear completely underneath his shoulder-length, black hair and closed my eyes to become entirely aware of his soft, devoted movements. He put his arm around me and let me vanish in endless waves of black cloth, holding me as though he was doing it for the first time in his life. We remained in this position for a few minutes. Then I tried to move backwards. He did not loosen his grip.
"Professor McGonagall," I whispered into his ear. "She'll skin us, layer by layer - and she's going to start with you." He smiled his mysterious smile and I crawled back into his soft, black robe.
"I don't care," he said. "There're more important things in life than essential organs. And if you are expelled, I'll marry you - though, come to think of it, that's what I'm going to do anyway."
I gave him a blank stare. He stared back, his black eyes glittering of both, playfulness and anticipation, but he did not move. There was really no way I could react to this without making a fool of myself.
"Fine," I said eventually. "I agree. When are we going to tell Professor McGonagall?" He chuckled and we kissed again. With a very warm feeling I turned to the Fat Lady, who was already giving impatient snorts... and froze. In the middle of the Gryffindor common room I saw a most familiar person who watched us, a mixture of surprise and disgust on his face. It was James. I made a startled step backwards. Had he been watching us the whole time? In my total confusion, I looked up at Severus, wanting to know how he had taken the sudden appearance of his archenemy. Severus, however, stared at James, his black eyes filled with such pure triumph that I shuddered involuntarily. My eyes narrowed in disbelief and I freed myself from his grip to make a couple of steps backwards against the Fat Lady who protested promptly. Staring at both men in bewilderment I struggled for a moment before wordlessly crossing the common room and heading upstairs to my dormitory. They were not going to win me over this time. I was not going side with either of them.
The next morning was noisy and nerve-racking. Quite understandably, since most of my fellow students were more than glad that the exams were finally over. People said that the location of the night's party had secretly been moved to Hogsmeade. I liked the sound of this, since it meant I was less likely to come across Severus while celebrating, or James, for that matter. I therefore decided to stay close to Jenny and Chris for the moment, who followed some of the teachers around to ask them about their exam results.
When Professor Sprout came across us for the fifth time and was held up once again, although she had made it plain before that none of us had failed Herbology, she lost her patience.
"Really Miss Crow," she said angrily. "What has gotten into you? You are not usually so dim-witted."
"I know, Professor," Jenny said stubbornly. "It is just that we are so awfully curious..."
Jenny liked to use 'we' instead of 'I', especially when fearing that what she was saying might irritate someone. She hated accepting responsibility, which annoyed me greatly for some reason. But I kept quiet. As usual.
The preparations for the party started in the afternoon. More or less secretly, a small group of people left the castle and went to Hogsmeade, to order butterbeer at Madame Rosmerta's and to get several boxes of living Billywigs, whose sting made you hover for a couple of hours if you were lucky. A common drug among wizards and witches of our age. Legal, of course, as the ministry made tons of money putting taxes on it, but certainly not harmless. I had never liked the sound of Billywig and no intentions to leave the school grounds anyway, so I stayed and tried to preserve my state of relative happiness, failed horribly, though, despite the fact that I happened to bump into neither James nor Severus all day.
At tea-time, a sudden pain shot through me like a bolt of lightening, doubtless caused by the Dark Mark at my left forearm. I vanished in the bathroom and shut the door behind me. The Mark glowed.
"He wants us," I thought. "I'll have to go." But something inside me revolted against this idea. "Why now?" I considered for a while if I was surprised and decided that I was.
"This is my N.E.W.T.s celebration," I growled at myself into the bathroom mirror. "Why missing one party to go to another?" I frowned and left the bathroom, still undecided about what to do.
On my way outside I met Jenny who asked me to help her designing some decoration for the evening. I agreed at once, happy to escape the situation of having to decide my further actions. Making up lots of different spells and drawing Chinese laterns onto a spare bit of parchment kept me busy for some time, but suddenly, unexpectedly, the blurred image of my parents returned to my mind and I had to pause briefly, straightening up in my chair. Jenny glanced at me with a hint of worry.
"All right with you?" she asked. "You look paler even than your lover."
Of course she had heard. Everyone had heard about the Head of Slytherin kissing a Gryffindor student in front of the Gryffindor portrait hole. Events like this rarely went by unnoticed, and since everyone had suspected already, they were hardly surprised to learn the 'truth' now, even if it came from unreliable sources like Jenny or Chris.
"My 'lover' is eccentric," I retorted, remembering the words Dumbledore had once used. "I, on the other hand, have got the flue. There is a certain difference in that, you see."
Jenny shrugged. "You would know."
"Yes, I happen to know exactly," I snapped sounding angrier than I was and left. I fetched my broom, mounted it and steered towards what had once been Severus's and my favourite place on the rooftop of Hogwarts's highest tower. Here I sat down, trying to forget what everyone else was thinking and finally dozed off into a dreamless sleep.
"Florence! Thank Merlin I found you," a voice behind me said and I realised immediately how foolish it had been to come here of all places.
"Severus," I replied as sarcastically as possible. "What would you be doing here?"
"This is serious, Florence," Severus said breathlessly. "I've been looking for you for nearly an hour. Haven't you received the call?"
"Yes, I have," I said coldly, "but I am not going. Have fun."
Severus did not reply. Indeed, he remained silent for an exceptionally long time. I would have loved to see his face at this specific moment, nothing, however, could have made me turn now.
"But you have to," he finally whispered. "All of us have to."
"Not me," I replied without losing my contemptuous tone. "I have just passed a bunch of really complicated exams. I am a grown-up now, Severus. I do not 'have' to do anything."
"But this is an entirely different matter," Severus gasped. "Florence! It's not a game!"
I shrugged. "You don't mean to say this is the first time one of the Dark Lord's supporters has more important business than coming to his stupid meetings?"
"Florence, please..." His voice assumed a pleading tone. "He'll be severely displeased!"
For the split of a second I felt the urge to get up and follow him, but the previous evening came back to my mind, so that I stubbornly remained seating and said, "Go on your own, Severus. If I miss anything of profound interest, you can tell me about it when you return."
"No!" he yelled and grabbed my shoulders so that I was forced to turn and look at him. "YOU HAVE TO GO!"
I was surprised. Severus hardly ever raised his voice. Only if he was exceedingly angry - or exhausted.
"You will come with me," he snarled, his black eyes glittering dangerously, "Or I -"
"Or you WHAT?" I shouted, getting to my feet, my fists clutched tightly around the handle of my wand. He did the same.
For a few seconds we were facing each other without moving.
"You have no idea what you are playing at," said Severus coldly, withdrawing his hand from his pocket. "Matching your power against the greatest wizard of all times is a game you are bound to lose."
"I am not going!"
"Yes, you are!"
"No!"
"FINE!" he shouted. "YOU'LL BE THE ONE FACING THE CONSEQUENCES!"
Like toddlers on a playground we parted without reconciliation. He headed off North and I sat down again. What kind of idiot did he think I was? Had he really expected me to just do as I was told like a stupid first-year? I remained brooding about this for a while, then, realising that this place would not let me stop thinking about Severus, decided that it would probably be best to join the last remaining group of students on their way into Hogsmeade.