Hmmm... a rather short chapter. School has been canceled for the next three days, and I was ecstatic at the extra time I would have to write, until I realized I was going to have to evacuate. Damn Hurricane Ivan. But I wanted to get a chapter up before I left. At this rate, I'm not going to meet the challenge deadline. Oh well, I'll finish it anyway...
Mia Taylor ran towards the quidditch pitch. Gryffindor tryouts were just about over, and then Slytherin tryouts would start.
She didn't actually play herself, but she wanted to see the end of Gryffindors tryouts so she could dish out the dirt on this year's team to her housemates. After that, she planned on looking good for all the Slytherin guys that would be trying out.
No one was in the sky anymore. Now everyone was crowding around waiting for Harry Potter to announce who had made the team. This was as close as she had ever been to the boy-who-lived, and she still couldn't figure out what all the fuss was about.
"Alright, calm down everyone," he yelled over the talking students. "You all did very well, but as you know, there are only nine spots on a team. I have chosen the following people."
"Ron Weasley as keeper."
Ron whooped and cheered for himself. Mia had seen Ron around school. His little sister was in some of her classes. Ginny was nice, but she couldn't help thinking Ron was a bit annoying. He didn't do anything for her.
"Amber Duncan, Malorie Hampton, and Damian Martini as our three seekers."
Amber and Malorie were both returning players, and were only in their fifth year. Mia could care less about them. But that last one, Damian, looked pretty good; pretty damn good.
"Griffin and Falcon Weaver as our beaters," Harry said. Griffin and Falcon were brothers, one in sixth year and the other in fifth. They looked a lot alike, with blonde hair and blue eyes. They were tall and lean, with lightly defined muscles.
They were any girls' dream, which was evident with all the Gryffindor bimbos hanging all over them, she thought. Mia admitted they looked good, but they were dumb jocks, and a voice in her head kept reminder her that she had been there and done that.
"And myself as Seeker and team Captain," Harry finished. "Would those eight please stay after so that I can explain how practices will work, and when our first match is scheduled."
The crowd dispersed, leaving the selected few on the field. Soon Harry had said his piece and they started to walk to the castle.
Mia was the kind of person who was always on the look out for the love of her life. So far she'd been through a lot of relationships that never took off, and she still hadn't found that special one. She knew a lot of people thought that it would just happen, but she didn't think so. If she was ever going to be happy, she was going to have to do it herself, because she had always had the distinct feeling that no one was looking for her.
Her mother, god rest her sole, had taught her to shop around. She had learned early that all that crap about not judging people before you know them is a bunch of bull shit. If it looks like a dog, and scratches like a dog, it probably has fleas like a dog. That was her philosophy. So she had some tricks up her sleeve; little things she always checked out on a guy before she so much as took a step closer.
Damian's boots were tied nicely, and the laces weren't all frayed on the ends like they spent a lot of time being stepped on. That was a point in his favor; he obviously had a sense of organization.
Clean-shaven. Any guy who couldn't find the time to keep himself shaved obviously didn't have time for her.
His fly was zipped, which was point number three. That meant he wasn't forgetful.
He flashed a smile and she gave him another point for keeping up with dental hygiene. That was a sign that he actually cared about the way he looked. She didn't want the kind of guy who only showered once every two weeks and would inevitably acquire a beer gut as he got a bit older.
And finally, she looked up and down his arms for any scarring. Having none brought him up to five points. That meant that he wasn't cutting himself or shooting heroine.
She decided he was worthy and took out her compact to make sure all her make-up still looked like it should. She put on a little more lip-gloss and walked over to him. Once they got to five points they were at least worth a shot.
"Hey, you're Damian right?" She asked. He smelled good. She gave him another point.
"Yeah," he said. "You're that girl who got sorted into Slytherin. Mia, right?"
"Yeah. Professor McGonagal said that you were quite good in transfiguration," Mia said, trying to sound cute, but not desperate. She didn't want to scare him off this early.
"I guess you could say that," he said.
"Well I was wondering if maybe we could set up some study sessions? I'm not doing so well in that subject." That was one of the most important aspects of talking to a possible boyfriend for the first time; inadvertently setting up a date.
"Sure. I'll have to check in with my parental unit to see if it's ok with him that I have someone over. I'll get back to you about when," Damian said. "See you later."
He walked away towards Harry and they headed for the castle. Mia was proud of the way she had handled that. The Slytherins were coming towards the pitch, and she went back to sit in the stands.
Harry nudged Damian as they walked towards the castle, "So...."
"So what?" Damian asked.
"That girl. What did she want?" Harry asked.
"Oh. She just wanted to set up some study sessions. She's having trouble in transfiguration, and Professor McGonagal mentioned me," he answered.
"What did you say?"
"I said sure, what's it to you anyway?" Damian asked, wondering if there was a point behind this questioning.
"Nothing, she just looked like she might be interested in you. That's all," Harry said. "I thought you might be getting some action."
"She just wanted a tutor," Damian said.
"Sure," Harry said, and they passed through the doors into the castle. "We've got just enough time to get showers before we're supposed to meet Hermione in the library to pick topics for our History of Magic projects. This history fair idea is the lamest thing I ever heard of. Leave it to Dumbledore..."
"See you there," Damian said as he turned off onto a stairwell leading to the dungeons. Down in his quarters, Snape was grading papers at a desk in the library.
"Sir?" he asked.
"What? And be quick, I'm busy," Severus snapped.
"A Slytherin girl, Mia Taylor, wants to know if I could help her study in Transfiguration. I was wondering if it would be ok if she came down once or twice a week until she gets the hang of transfiguring," Damian asked.
"Fine. Anything else?" Severus asked.
"Well, what day and time would be the best time for her to come? I don't know when you don't want company or whatever."
"Tuesdays and Thursdays after dinner. That's when I have students serve detention, so I won't be here to be bothered."
"Oh, I made the quidditch team, so I'll have practices on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday nights after dinner."
"Well I suppose you'll be quite busy between tutoring and practices," Snape said. That was a godsend as far as he was concerned. He wouldn't have to spend as much time trying to think of things to say.
"I guess so," Damian said before scuffling off to his room. Once inside, he shed his clothes and jumped into the shower.
Clean warm water replaced the sweat that clung to his body. He ran his finger across the scar above his heart. He could remember the feel of the blade slicing into his skin, the death eater's rough voice taking pleasure in describing how he would slowly cut his heart out.
Then the death eater had stopped cutting to assist a fellow death eater who had yelled out in pain. His twelve-year-old sister, Heather, had buried a kitchen knife in his shoulder blade. The last words his sister ever spoke were to ask if he were all right. He could see the death eater coming back from over her shoulder...
All of a sudden more people arrived, he supposed they were the "good guys", and the death eaters started to run for the back door. Before he left, the death eater pulled Heather's head back by the hair and slit her throat with the same knife that she had buried in his shoulder minutes early.
Damian leaned against the shower wall and slowly slid to the floor. The water beat against him. The droplets reminded him of the tears he cried while holding Heather's limp body while she bled out, her blood mingling with his own.
His whole life was gone, yet he was still breathing. His mother's body down the hall slumped over the crib of his lifeless baby sister. Heather was dead because she tried to help him. Why couldn't she have just run? She might have gotten away.
Where had his father been during all this? The sadness he felt boiled away into pure hatred. He had left all of them right after he had learned that Caitlin was on the way. Damian hoped he was dead. Maybe if he had stayed, things would have been different.
With the new baby, they had needed a bigger house, but they couldn't afford it. Damian could remember a time when anything the family needed, his father would make sure they had it. They wouldn't have even been living there if he had stayed; if he had cared.
Damian decided he didn't really feel up to meeting his new friends at the library. For a minute he worried that they would be upset with him, but he couldn't bring himself to go.
He got out of the shower and dressed in some green pajama pants and a black undershirt. Slipping out of his room quietly, he headed to the kitchen. 'Thank god for Cherry Coke' he thought, pulling a can from the fridge.
"What is all that in my fridge anyway?" Snape implored.
Damian jumped. "It's Cherry Coke; my life force. I'd die without it," he said bluntly.
"Well then it's a good thing there's such a large supply of it," Severus eyed the top two shelves of his refrigerator, which were packed with soda cans.
"I was surprised you actually had a fridge here," Damian said. "We only had one back home because we lived in a muggle built home that already had all the household appliances."
"Yes, well, I find it rather useful. How did you get all that Coke here? Where did it come from?" Severus inquired.
"There's this new shop in Hogsmeade that just opened called Muggle Delicatessens. It's full of muggle stuff, mostly food items. They'll probably do really well. There were a lot of curious witches and wizards in there. They just need employees who can actually explain things to them," Damian explained. "They also need someone who knows what these things normally would cost, because I bought a twelve pack of this stuff for as much as a piece of chewing gum would have cost me back home."
"You know a lot about muggles don't you?" Severus asked.
"Yeah, I guess so. My dad was a muggle. We lived in a muggle subdivision. I went to a muggle elementary school. I had muggle friends. We bought our groceries and clothes in muggle stores, mostly because my dad made muggle money," Damian replied.
Severus decided that he should come clean about his past right away. This boy had reason to hate him more than almost anyone he knew, and he didn't want for Damian to hear about what he was from anyone else.
He took a deep breathe. "There is something I think I should tell you, if you don't mind."
"Sure... you wanna sit down or something?" Damian asked, pulling out a chair from the small dining table and sitting down.
Severus took the seat on the other side of the table and just stared into space, debating over how he should start.
"I am not a good man. I've done terrible things in my lifetime... so bad I do not pretend to deserve life. But I have tried to repent over the last few years, and I know it will never change what I have done, but I have made a pact with myself to spend the rest of my life working to make things right."
"You really know how to get right down to it don't you? Are we going to arrive at a point or what?" Damian wasn't really in the mood for this. He just wanted to chug his coke and go to his room. At least now he could have a real excuse for his new friends though.
Severus didn't know exactly how to come out and say it, so he rolled up his sleeve and held out his arm, exposing the mark. "I'm a death eater..."
Damian choked on his coke and stared at Snape like a deer caught in the headlights. There was no way he could ever live with this man...
