Chapter 4
Getting Even
The next day Samantha woke up bright and early. She yawned, stretched, and smiled. She looked around to see Perseus was gone, probably flying around the grounds or at the Owlery.
She got dressed and sighed happily. It was finally Friday, her weekly nirvana. All she had today was Transfiguration, Divination, Potions and Astronomy at night. Then she was free, free for the weekend. She smiled at the thought.
She got dressed, made her bed, grabbed her bag, and went down to breakfast. She began to dine on pancakes when Jillian and Monica arrived. They talked animatedly, overjoyed that the weekend was finally upon them. It wasn't until nearly the end of breakfast that Samantha got a prickling feeling on the back of her neck as if someone was watching her.
She whipped around. Her eyes locked onto Professor Snape, who was sitting calmly, drinking coffee, and certainly not looking at her. He wasn't looking at me, she thought. Or had he been? Had he simply turned his head quickly?
She shook these thoughts from her head and turned back to her friends.
- - -
At last she was released from the Divination classroom. She resented Trelawney for keeping it so warm in that room. Now she was sweating, which annoyed her greatly, and her hair was limp. Normally she wouldn't worry about it, but something made her want to look as good as she could look.
As she went down to the dungeons, she sighed and happily greeted the cool, heavy dungeon air. She tapped her bun with her wand and her golden-brown hair fell to her shoulders. She entered dungeon five.
She was the first one there, as always. She remained standing.
"Please sit down, Samantha." Snape said. Slightly shocked at being called her first name, she sank into her usual seat. She doodled on a spare piece of parchment. She got the prickling feeling again, this time on her face. She looked up abruptly. He was not staring. But again, she wondered if he had simply turned away. She tried to push the thoughts away.
All the students filed in gradually. When Snape looked up, the room quieted under his gaze. They turned their attentive faces towards him. He rose from his seat and stood in front of the class.
"Today we will be making a basic Pepperup Potion, for it is a step down from what we have been learning. Why, you ask? Your essays and practical exams are shameful! They are lamentable! Can you tell me what is so hard about making a potion?" he asked viciously. Some people shrugged, some people looked away guiltily. "Well, some of you have improved, but the majority of you have not." He gave Samantha a rare but meaningful look that no one but her seemed to notice. She blushed. "So that means going back to things we should have mastered by now. You will all have extra homework. No complaints, no excuses! You brought this upon yourselves! Now begin the potion before I give you all 'D's!" he hissed snappishly. There was the expected bustle.
Samantha made the potion wordlessly, trying to be as quiet as possible. The only sounds in the classroom were the bubble of the cauldron and the occasional soft sigh or whisper. She merely thought to herself what Snape would say if she failed again, and by the time the potion was done, she was confident she had earned an 'E' at least. She brought it up for grading.
He took it gingerly, popped the cork off, and poured a few sips down his throat. It astonished Samantha that he trusted her potion work so much. But then again, after the previous night...
He smiled at her. It was the first time she had ever seen him smile, and it surprised her even more. "Very good, Miss Fox. It seems to me that you have finally gotten the gist of potion work. I give it a 'E'." He told her quietly, so not to disturb the ones still working.
She grinned with glee. She had gotten exactly what she had expected. No more, but still, no less either. "Thank you, Professor." She whispered and returned to her seat, still smiling.
After the bell rang, Samantha packed her things slowly, taking in all that had just happened and tucking it away inside her heart for a rainy day. She was about to walk out when he stopped her.
"Miss Fox? Samantha? Can you stay a bit?" he asked.
"Yes sir." She answered. She dropped her bag on her desk and went over to him.
"Yes. Um, I just wanted to say...er...well..." She watched with a little smile. He looked to her for help. However, she would not offer anything; it amused her to watch him struggle. "Well, I wanted to say...thankyou." He said extremely quickly.
"For..."
"For...er...savingmylife." Again, he made his statement one word. She smiled. She knew this was extremely difficult for him.
"You're welcome." She said simply.
"So am I still a selfish bastard?" he asked, offering an impish smile.
Not entirely, she thought, but all she said was, "No."
"Good." He said. She had never seen him so – what's the word? she thought – nervous before. It amused her to think she was making him this way when it used to be that it was the other way around.
Suddenly she was flooded with a rush of emotion. Or it could have been hormones, she wasn't sure. But, in any case, her brain screamed: OH MY GOD AM I FALLING IN LOVE WITH HIM? THE SCHOOL POTIONS MASTER? I'M GOING INSANE, GODDAMMIT!
"Er...I have to go." She said, and made to leave.
Giving in to what has got me
Feeling claustrophobic, scarred
Severed me from all emotion
Life is just too fucking hard
Snap! Your face was all it took
Cuz this need ain't doing' me no good
Fall on my face, but can't you see?
This fucking life is killing me!
Tearing me / inside
Too far gone, i'm catatonic
Leaving you to criticize
Empty shell and running naked
All alone... lobotomized
-Slipknot-
She quickly swept out of the dungeons before he could get another word out.
I watched her go, her hips swaying back on forth, the echo of her steps softer than a baby's kiss. How I wanted to take her in my arms and never let go. I knew she felt the same way. But we couldn't risk it, not for a million galleons we couldn't risk it.
I hated it. I would give anything just to touch her velvety lips, the ones that had spoken to me well into the night, the ones that had pursed and smiled all in my presence.
"Aaaah!" I cried and rolled up his sleeve so quickly that I thought he might have ripped it. The Dark Mark was there, black as night and freshly outlined in my own scarlet blood.
I knew that if it weren't for Occlumency I would be dead by now. Occlumency and Dumbledore. If Dumbledore ever died and I was left in the hands of Voldemort, I could basically kiss my ass goodbye. I hated spying, but I was with the Order, and it was something I had to do.
- - -
In the Great Hall the next morning Samantha again arrived early. I sipped the dark brew lightly, watching her come in and sit down with her friends. It was amusing to think we used to hate each other. But even though I knew I used to despise her, that fiery rebelliousness was always slightly attractive.
Surprisingly, she looked over at me. She smiled at me brightly, and I smiled impishly back over the rim of my goblet. I could almost feel the warmth and sincerity in her smile. It seemed like my stomach was like a pancake, and she was the spatula, making it flip over and over and over. It was an unfamiliar feeling, but a nice one.
The Mark burned again, and I winced. I tried to ignore it. But I realized that wasn't going to happen as my eyes followed a tiny river of blood flowing out from under the cuff of my shirt and onto the back of my hand. I smeared it on my robes.
"Severus?" Dumbledore asked. McGonagall and Sprout looked over.
"It's nothing." I growled. "I won't go. Not yet."
They went back to their breakfast.
- - -
"Class dismissed." I said in a sharp voice. The worried sixth years gathered their things and hurriedly made their way to the door. I paid no attention. The only object was my interest was Samantha, who was packing her things slowly. I supposed the lethargy of her manor was on purpose.
"Samantha." I addressed her. Her head snapped up.
"Yes, Professor?"
"Er..." I blushed. I was being stupid. I had addressed her name, yet I did not have a thing to say to her. Then an idea hit me. I took out my wand. She panicked, grabbing hers. But she was not quick enough. "Legilimens!"
Suddenly I invaded her mind just as she had invaded mine. I did not waste my time peering at her early childhood. I dove into the layer that bore the memories of her school career.
She looked about twelve. Her face was rounder, not quite as heart-shaped as it was presently. She was sitting with Monica Flynn and Jillian McNamara, two Slytherins in her year. They were her best friends. I had seen them in the Great Hall, in the corridors, on the grounds, laughing and talking.
"That Lockhart looks like he'd be a decent shag, eh?" Monica asked, looking into the flames in the fireplace of the Slytherin common room.
"You're disgusting, Monica." Samantha said.
"I'm only telling the truth." Monica said frankly, turning to face Samantha.
"What shoe size does he wear?" Jillian asked, looking up from her homework.
"How the hell do I know?" Monica asked.
"What does that have to do with this conversation, anyways?" Samantha asked her quizzically.
"Well," Jillian started to explain, putting down her book. "I heard from Herina that a guy's shoe size is how big his dick is. Bigger dick, better shag. That's all I'm saying."
"What a crock of shit!" Monica laughed. "Herina is really full of it. Besides, it's not like I want to shag him anyways."
"Yeah." Said Samantha, laughing.
"Maybe she's not. How would you know?" Jillian asked.
"Well, I just...I just know, okay? Bugger off."
"So maybe you should prove it." Jillian snapped. Monica looked at her.
"You really think so?"
"Yes. In fact, let's make a bet."
Monica rolled her shoulders, as if bracing herself. "Okay. What's it on?"
"You," Jillian said. "But let me explain. I bet that you can't snog him by tomorrow night, and obviously, that's what you're going to try to do. If you win, I do your homework for a week. If you lose, you do my homework for a week."
Monica considered. Samantha, Jillian and she were the three smartest Slytherins. Having no homework would sure be a nice change.
"Jillian, you've got yourself a bet."
They shook hands.
In the next memory, Samantha and Jillian were pacing the common room nervously.
"God, how long does it take? She should be back by now!" Samantha cried nervously, wringing her hands.
"Shhhh. Don't panic. The last thing we need is more people to know about this." Jillian said soothingly. Samantha exhaled, this time more calmly.
After about five minutes of pacing, Monica arrived, hair tousled and face red.
"Oh my God!" Samantha said. Monica grinned.
"Well, looks like I win, Jillian. But don't worry. All's not lost for you. I got two hundred points to Slytherin, after all." She smiled.
"You didn't!" Jillian said in an oh-my-gosh-you-little-whore-I'm-almost- impressed kind of voice.
"I did." She smiled smugly.
"God, you little slut!" Jillian shrieked, cackling. Monica laughed and shoved her playfully.
Then the memory ended and I exited her mind. I was disappointed, in myself and in my students. I couldn't do anything about Flynn snogging Lockhart: that was two years ago. But, to my self-disgust, that wasn't the thing that was bothering me the most.
I didn't have time to go through each and every thing Samantha remembered. I had just thing that one, and I supposed that set the standard for the rest. I didn't know exactly what I had been looking for, but I thought that maybe I was searching for some horrific, dark, secretive event so I would finally know what had happened to her (if anything ever had) and we could wallow in self-pity together. But all I had seen was that crap about Flynn and Lockhart. It made me ache, and I hated myself for it.
She had been sitting on her stool when I had first invaded her mind. Now her forearms rested on her thighs, her back hunched, her golden-brown locks falling in front of her face.
"Ugh." She groaned. "What the hell did you do that for?"
"Sorry." I said quietly, putting my wand away. I went over to help her. I put a hand on her shoulder. It surprised me when she struggled against me and in all the excitement my hand accidentally brushed her chest. She glared up at me.
"Oh, yeah, that was really an accident." She said with a sarcastic drawl.
"Yes, it was." I replied. She tutted. She bent over to get her bag off the floor. It was then that I realized just how loose her shirt was. I could see them so clearly. She was wearing a skin-colored underwire bra, but it didn't cover as much as it should have. I bit my lip to suppress a grin. Her head shot up as if she knew exactly what I was thinking.
"And what are you looking at?" she asked sharply.
"Nothing." I answered simply.
"Ha." She muttered. "Next you'll be telling me that you're not thinking about sex. What a laugh."
I nearly chuckled. "My, my, what's gotten you so bitchy all of a sudden?"
"Your bullshit. Now get the fuck out of my way." She snapped. I moved aside and grinned. She gave me a dirty look before exiting the dungeon.
"P.M.S...." I mumbled.
Getting Even
The next day Samantha woke up bright and early. She yawned, stretched, and smiled. She looked around to see Perseus was gone, probably flying around the grounds or at the Owlery.
She got dressed and sighed happily. It was finally Friday, her weekly nirvana. All she had today was Transfiguration, Divination, Potions and Astronomy at night. Then she was free, free for the weekend. She smiled at the thought.
She got dressed, made her bed, grabbed her bag, and went down to breakfast. She began to dine on pancakes when Jillian and Monica arrived. They talked animatedly, overjoyed that the weekend was finally upon them. It wasn't until nearly the end of breakfast that Samantha got a prickling feeling on the back of her neck as if someone was watching her.
She whipped around. Her eyes locked onto Professor Snape, who was sitting calmly, drinking coffee, and certainly not looking at her. He wasn't looking at me, she thought. Or had he been? Had he simply turned his head quickly?
She shook these thoughts from her head and turned back to her friends.
- - -
At last she was released from the Divination classroom. She resented Trelawney for keeping it so warm in that room. Now she was sweating, which annoyed her greatly, and her hair was limp. Normally she wouldn't worry about it, but something made her want to look as good as she could look.
As she went down to the dungeons, she sighed and happily greeted the cool, heavy dungeon air. She tapped her bun with her wand and her golden-brown hair fell to her shoulders. She entered dungeon five.
She was the first one there, as always. She remained standing.
"Please sit down, Samantha." Snape said. Slightly shocked at being called her first name, she sank into her usual seat. She doodled on a spare piece of parchment. She got the prickling feeling again, this time on her face. She looked up abruptly. He was not staring. But again, she wondered if he had simply turned away. She tried to push the thoughts away.
All the students filed in gradually. When Snape looked up, the room quieted under his gaze. They turned their attentive faces towards him. He rose from his seat and stood in front of the class.
"Today we will be making a basic Pepperup Potion, for it is a step down from what we have been learning. Why, you ask? Your essays and practical exams are shameful! They are lamentable! Can you tell me what is so hard about making a potion?" he asked viciously. Some people shrugged, some people looked away guiltily. "Well, some of you have improved, but the majority of you have not." He gave Samantha a rare but meaningful look that no one but her seemed to notice. She blushed. "So that means going back to things we should have mastered by now. You will all have extra homework. No complaints, no excuses! You brought this upon yourselves! Now begin the potion before I give you all 'D's!" he hissed snappishly. There was the expected bustle.
Samantha made the potion wordlessly, trying to be as quiet as possible. The only sounds in the classroom were the bubble of the cauldron and the occasional soft sigh or whisper. She merely thought to herself what Snape would say if she failed again, and by the time the potion was done, she was confident she had earned an 'E' at least. She brought it up for grading.
He took it gingerly, popped the cork off, and poured a few sips down his throat. It astonished Samantha that he trusted her potion work so much. But then again, after the previous night...
He smiled at her. It was the first time she had ever seen him smile, and it surprised her even more. "Very good, Miss Fox. It seems to me that you have finally gotten the gist of potion work. I give it a 'E'." He told her quietly, so not to disturb the ones still working.
She grinned with glee. She had gotten exactly what she had expected. No more, but still, no less either. "Thank you, Professor." She whispered and returned to her seat, still smiling.
After the bell rang, Samantha packed her things slowly, taking in all that had just happened and tucking it away inside her heart for a rainy day. She was about to walk out when he stopped her.
"Miss Fox? Samantha? Can you stay a bit?" he asked.
"Yes sir." She answered. She dropped her bag on her desk and went over to him.
"Yes. Um, I just wanted to say...er...well..." She watched with a little smile. He looked to her for help. However, she would not offer anything; it amused her to watch him struggle. "Well, I wanted to say...thankyou." He said extremely quickly.
"For..."
"For...er...savingmylife." Again, he made his statement one word. She smiled. She knew this was extremely difficult for him.
"You're welcome." She said simply.
"So am I still a selfish bastard?" he asked, offering an impish smile.
Not entirely, she thought, but all she said was, "No."
"Good." He said. She had never seen him so – what's the word? she thought – nervous before. It amused her to think she was making him this way when it used to be that it was the other way around.
Suddenly she was flooded with a rush of emotion. Or it could have been hormones, she wasn't sure. But, in any case, her brain screamed: OH MY GOD AM I FALLING IN LOVE WITH HIM? THE SCHOOL POTIONS MASTER? I'M GOING INSANE, GODDAMMIT!
"Er...I have to go." She said, and made to leave.
Giving in to what has got me
Feeling claustrophobic, scarred
Severed me from all emotion
Life is just too fucking hard
Snap! Your face was all it took
Cuz this need ain't doing' me no good
Fall on my face, but can't you see?
This fucking life is killing me!
Tearing me / inside
Too far gone, i'm catatonic
Leaving you to criticize
Empty shell and running naked
All alone... lobotomized
-Slipknot-
She quickly swept out of the dungeons before he could get another word out.
I watched her go, her hips swaying back on forth, the echo of her steps softer than a baby's kiss. How I wanted to take her in my arms and never let go. I knew she felt the same way. But we couldn't risk it, not for a million galleons we couldn't risk it.
I hated it. I would give anything just to touch her velvety lips, the ones that had spoken to me well into the night, the ones that had pursed and smiled all in my presence.
"Aaaah!" I cried and rolled up his sleeve so quickly that I thought he might have ripped it. The Dark Mark was there, black as night and freshly outlined in my own scarlet blood.
I knew that if it weren't for Occlumency I would be dead by now. Occlumency and Dumbledore. If Dumbledore ever died and I was left in the hands of Voldemort, I could basically kiss my ass goodbye. I hated spying, but I was with the Order, and it was something I had to do.
- - -
In the Great Hall the next morning Samantha again arrived early. I sipped the dark brew lightly, watching her come in and sit down with her friends. It was amusing to think we used to hate each other. But even though I knew I used to despise her, that fiery rebelliousness was always slightly attractive.
Surprisingly, she looked over at me. She smiled at me brightly, and I smiled impishly back over the rim of my goblet. I could almost feel the warmth and sincerity in her smile. It seemed like my stomach was like a pancake, and she was the spatula, making it flip over and over and over. It was an unfamiliar feeling, but a nice one.
The Mark burned again, and I winced. I tried to ignore it. But I realized that wasn't going to happen as my eyes followed a tiny river of blood flowing out from under the cuff of my shirt and onto the back of my hand. I smeared it on my robes.
"Severus?" Dumbledore asked. McGonagall and Sprout looked over.
"It's nothing." I growled. "I won't go. Not yet."
They went back to their breakfast.
- - -
"Class dismissed." I said in a sharp voice. The worried sixth years gathered their things and hurriedly made their way to the door. I paid no attention. The only object was my interest was Samantha, who was packing her things slowly. I supposed the lethargy of her manor was on purpose.
"Samantha." I addressed her. Her head snapped up.
"Yes, Professor?"
"Er..." I blushed. I was being stupid. I had addressed her name, yet I did not have a thing to say to her. Then an idea hit me. I took out my wand. She panicked, grabbing hers. But she was not quick enough. "Legilimens!"
Suddenly I invaded her mind just as she had invaded mine. I did not waste my time peering at her early childhood. I dove into the layer that bore the memories of her school career.
She looked about twelve. Her face was rounder, not quite as heart-shaped as it was presently. She was sitting with Monica Flynn and Jillian McNamara, two Slytherins in her year. They were her best friends. I had seen them in the Great Hall, in the corridors, on the grounds, laughing and talking.
"That Lockhart looks like he'd be a decent shag, eh?" Monica asked, looking into the flames in the fireplace of the Slytherin common room.
"You're disgusting, Monica." Samantha said.
"I'm only telling the truth." Monica said frankly, turning to face Samantha.
"What shoe size does he wear?" Jillian asked, looking up from her homework.
"How the hell do I know?" Monica asked.
"What does that have to do with this conversation, anyways?" Samantha asked her quizzically.
"Well," Jillian started to explain, putting down her book. "I heard from Herina that a guy's shoe size is how big his dick is. Bigger dick, better shag. That's all I'm saying."
"What a crock of shit!" Monica laughed. "Herina is really full of it. Besides, it's not like I want to shag him anyways."
"Yeah." Said Samantha, laughing.
"Maybe she's not. How would you know?" Jillian asked.
"Well, I just...I just know, okay? Bugger off."
"So maybe you should prove it." Jillian snapped. Monica looked at her.
"You really think so?"
"Yes. In fact, let's make a bet."
Monica rolled her shoulders, as if bracing herself. "Okay. What's it on?"
"You," Jillian said. "But let me explain. I bet that you can't snog him by tomorrow night, and obviously, that's what you're going to try to do. If you win, I do your homework for a week. If you lose, you do my homework for a week."
Monica considered. Samantha, Jillian and she were the three smartest Slytherins. Having no homework would sure be a nice change.
"Jillian, you've got yourself a bet."
They shook hands.
In the next memory, Samantha and Jillian were pacing the common room nervously.
"God, how long does it take? She should be back by now!" Samantha cried nervously, wringing her hands.
"Shhhh. Don't panic. The last thing we need is more people to know about this." Jillian said soothingly. Samantha exhaled, this time more calmly.
After about five minutes of pacing, Monica arrived, hair tousled and face red.
"Oh my God!" Samantha said. Monica grinned.
"Well, looks like I win, Jillian. But don't worry. All's not lost for you. I got two hundred points to Slytherin, after all." She smiled.
"You didn't!" Jillian said in an oh-my-gosh-you-little-whore-I'm-almost- impressed kind of voice.
"I did." She smiled smugly.
"God, you little slut!" Jillian shrieked, cackling. Monica laughed and shoved her playfully.
Then the memory ended and I exited her mind. I was disappointed, in myself and in my students. I couldn't do anything about Flynn snogging Lockhart: that was two years ago. But, to my self-disgust, that wasn't the thing that was bothering me the most.
I didn't have time to go through each and every thing Samantha remembered. I had just thing that one, and I supposed that set the standard for the rest. I didn't know exactly what I had been looking for, but I thought that maybe I was searching for some horrific, dark, secretive event so I would finally know what had happened to her (if anything ever had) and we could wallow in self-pity together. But all I had seen was that crap about Flynn and Lockhart. It made me ache, and I hated myself for it.
She had been sitting on her stool when I had first invaded her mind. Now her forearms rested on her thighs, her back hunched, her golden-brown locks falling in front of her face.
"Ugh." She groaned. "What the hell did you do that for?"
"Sorry." I said quietly, putting my wand away. I went over to help her. I put a hand on her shoulder. It surprised me when she struggled against me and in all the excitement my hand accidentally brushed her chest. She glared up at me.
"Oh, yeah, that was really an accident." She said with a sarcastic drawl.
"Yes, it was." I replied. She tutted. She bent over to get her bag off the floor. It was then that I realized just how loose her shirt was. I could see them so clearly. She was wearing a skin-colored underwire bra, but it didn't cover as much as it should have. I bit my lip to suppress a grin. Her head shot up as if she knew exactly what I was thinking.
"And what are you looking at?" she asked sharply.
"Nothing." I answered simply.
"Ha." She muttered. "Next you'll be telling me that you're not thinking about sex. What a laugh."
I nearly chuckled. "My, my, what's gotten you so bitchy all of a sudden?"
"Your bullshit. Now get the fuck out of my way." She snapped. I moved aside and grinned. She gave me a dirty look before exiting the dungeon.
"P.M.S...." I mumbled.