Chapter Four
Pythia slipped into the restroom on the way back from Transfiguration, telling Narcissa to go ahead. She waited about ten minutes before going to the common room. She dropped down onto the couch and pressed the heels of her hands into her eyes, wincing when a dull pain reminded her of her black eye.
"You ought to put something on that," Severus's voice suggested dispassionately from a chair on the other side of the fireplace.
Pythia opened her eyes and glared at him. The same book that he'd been reading all day was in his lap yet again. "What are you doing here?"
"I'm forgoing dinner tonight," he replied indifferently, flipping the page.
Pythia frowned and positioned herself so that she could look at him while the couch arm supported her head. "Well, that's odd. You usually love brooding glacially around all of us."
Severus glared at her as the rest of his face contorted into a particularly vicious scowl. Apparently, this business about being sent to Belgium was bothering him more than Pythia had thought. But if she brought it up, then Severus would be angry with Lucius – which was never a good thing – and he'd completely shut down.
"So, how does one go about turning a person into a centipede?" she asked, opting for a change of topics. "We haven't exactly covered that in Transfiguration."
"I haven't decided," Severus murmured offhandedly. "And I think the better question would be: how does one trip a centipede?" He lifted his eyes from the page to meet Pythia's gaze.
Pythia opened her mouth to reply, but found that she had no answer. How did one trip a centipede? It would have to be awfully difficult, since a centipede had all those other legs to support it. She tried to think up any possible method, but nothing came to mind. "So we won't trip her," she finally said, shrugging. "We can just break her legs." An idea came to her. "Then we can pull them off."
Severus made a noncommittal sound. Pythia sighed. She was getting nowhere. She watched him read for several moments before deciding to do something much more constructive. She slid off the sofa and strode up to the girls' dormitories, stretching out on the bed with a specially-charmed piece of parchment, a quill, and a book upon which to bear down. Rolling the quill between her fingers, Pythia pondered how to start the letter, eventually deciding to dive in. After five drafts, she finally settled with the wording.
Father,
I seldom ask for favors, and I'm prepared to accept whatever your terms are. As payment for help with a problem of mine – please, don't make me elaborate, I know that you would be disappointed – I agreed with Severus Snape to present to you his request for a meeting. I have no knowledge of his intentions, though I highly doubt that they are to bear insult. Please reply before the week is done.
PythiaAs she signed her name and began writing the cover letter, Pythia pondered a role among her fellow Slytherins as a person with valuable connections. In a couple years time, her father could even be considered the highest connection there was for wizards like herself, and that could certainly find her in a powerful position once she graduated. But alas, it would never be, for she'd sworn oath upon oath upon oath before first arriving at Hogwarts that she would never reveal her paternal lineage.
"Thia."
Pythia looked up at Nero in the doorway as Bellatrix and Narcissa both slinked into the four year girls' dormitory. Boys were blocked by magic from entering the girls' dorms, but girls could come into the boys'. Narcissa walked over and perched on the foot of her bed, pushing the drapes to one side so that she could see the room, while her sister crawled onto Pythia's bed, lounging uninvited against the headboard.
"Lucius wants to talk to you," Bella informed Pythia. She looked up at Nero. "We told you we'd tell her."
Nero rolled his eyes. "Well, Lucius told me to tell her, even after you offered."
"And you always do what Lucius tells you to do?" Narcissa interjected amusedly.
Pythia folded the letter and slipped it into her robes, rising from the bed. "Narcissa, we all do what Lucius tells us to do. Not doing that would be bad for your health."
Narcissa sighed exasperatedly, resigning herself to the fact that the lot of them would never see reason. Didn't they realize that Lucius had this much power over them only because they let him?
Pythia crossed to Nero, offering him her hand. "Take me to our leader."
Nero led her up the stairs to the sixth year boys' dormitory, which Lucius shared with Rudolphus, Evan, and two dimwitted, thickset boys by the names of Crabbe and Goyle. The room was oddly empty except for Lucius, who was lounging on his bed with a book open beside him. A book that he was clearly not reading. When Pythia stepped into the room, he sat up and indicated to Nero that he should leave.
"Wait," Pythia said as Nero turned to go. She took the letter to her father out of her robes and gave it to him. "Use Lucius's owl to send this. She'll know where to go."
Nero winked at Pythia and left her to face Lucius alone.
"What did Severus have to say this afternoon?" he demanded.
"What, no 'we missed you at dinner, Thia?' Honestly, Lucius, I'm hurt."
"Pythia . . . " His tone was warning enough.
Pythia strode across the room and settled herself at the foot of his bed. "He offered to help me with my plans with Evans in return for a meeting with my father. I told him I'd try as best I could, but I wasn't promising anything."
"I suppose you're angry with me for telling him." Lucius didn't sound in the least bit as concerned as Pythia thought he should have. But there was nothing she could do about it, so she merely nodded. "Well, don't be. If anyone is trustworthy enough with a secret of this magnitude, it is Severus." He flashed her one of his most winning smiles, and, reluctantly, she melted to his charm.
"Well," she replied, trying to keep some air of indignation about her as she crawled across the bed to him, "you've proven that it certainly isn't you."