_______________________________
Chapter 16
_________________________
* Harry, pay attention! *
* Can't you just leave me alone, Evan? I didn't sleep well last night. *
* That is completely understandable, however I don't want to end up as a splatter on the wall. *
* This potion can't do that, can it? *
* It can if you don't watch what you're doing with the mandrake. *
* I'm slicing it. What's the big deal? *
* It's suppose to be grounded. *
* Shut up, or I'll use you next. *
* No need to get violent. I was just trying to help. *
* A lot of good you're doing. *
* Fine go to sleep and ruin your potion. See if I care. *
Harry watched Evan back away from the cauldron and sit with a wary eye on the mixture.
"Harry, are you all right, mate?"
"I'll be fine, Ron. I just need to take a nap."
"I'll say. You look dead on your feet."
"Weasley, Potter. Stop talking and get back to work," Snape yelled from the front of the room.
"What's gotten into him today?" Ron mumbled. "He's been like this all morning."
"Hmm?" Harry wasn't really listening. He was too intent on trying not to fall asleep to worry much about conversation.
"I said he's been snapping at us for no reason. Even at breakfast. Which you slept through. And Divinations, might add."
"Ten points and a detention, Weasley. I told you to quit talking." Snape was now walking around the cauldrons, examining the students' work.
"That was unfair. Harry, wake up."
Harry turned his attention to the nudge that threatened to knock his elbow from its resting place on the table. If it had been moved, his head would have made a resounding thud on the table. "I'm awake," he mumbled. What was with everyone today? He had had a bad night and just wanted to go back to bed.
"Bottle your potions and class is dismissed," Snape said from the front of the room.
"That's odd. Why would he be letting us out early?" Hermione asked no one in particular.
"Who cares? " Ron was enthusiastically bottling his potion. "The sooner we get out, the better. Right, Harry? Harry?" Ron nudged the dozing boy. "Harry, you can sleep later."
"Right," he yawned. "What are we doing?"
"Bottling."
"But I'm not finished."
* Should have paid more attention to your work, instead of sleeping. *
* Oh, be quiet, Evan. *
"Come on, Harry. Bottle a little of what you have and dump the rest. You're going to fail anyway."
"I'm coming." Harry filled two jars of his unfinished potion and dumped the rest, just as Ron suggested, grabbed his bag and followed, rather sluggishly, his friends out of the potion's lab. Again he failed to notice the black arachnid sitting on the worktable.
"Harry, I've been thinking about a way to find out who that S.O.S author is."
"That's great, Hermione," he said around a yawn. "Can we do it after I take a nap?"
"I thought you were serious about this."
"I am. I'm just tired."
"Come on, we're going to the library."
"Hermione," Ron whined, "Why do we have to go there?"
"Because I know Madam Pince has other books by an S.O.S and she might know if they are the same person. She might also know how to find out who the author really is."
"Is that necessary? It's almost lunch time."
"Almost. Meaning not yet. Honestly, I thought you both were interesting in knowing who wrote that book of yours." Hermione huffed a bit but continued to lead the reluctant pair of boys off to the library. "Madam Pince, could I ask you a few things?"
The stick of a witch leaned over her desk to peer at the three students invading her library. "Ah, Miss Granger. What would you like to know?" Harry woke up enough to realize the librarian was behaving kindly to Hermione.
"Well," Hermione began, "Harry got this book on potions over the summer and we were wondering who the author was. It was published under the person's initials. Do you know how we might be able to find out who he is?"
Madam Pince looked at them curiously. "What is the name of the book and author?" Harry couldn't stop his surprise from showing. The librarian was actually wanting to help them.
"Potions and Their Failures by S.O.S"
"Hmm. There are a good many books by that name, but not all of them are by the same man."
"Do you think you can tell us how to find out?"
"The publishers only keep names of their authors. Not the real names of the witches and wizards behind the pen names. But I know one of the men who published under S.O.S. He donated many of our books."
"Who was that, Madam Pince?"
"Salvador Odysseus Snape."
"Any relation to Professor Snape?" Harry asked. He had a sneaking suspicion there was.
"I believe Salvador was Professor Snape's father." Harry was floored at the mere suggestion Snape had relatives. Intellectually he knew the man had to have had parents, but that admitted to Snape being human. He didn't think he was ready to believe that.
"Uh, Madam Pince, why did Salvador Snape publish under his initials?" Hermione asked bring the topic closer to where they wanted.
"He told me he had started while he was too young to publish under the Ministry standards. Later I believer he continued to publish controversial books under that name."
"Do you know if he published this book?" the little redhead asked.
"I'm not sure, but I don't think so. Salvador died about three months before it was publish. Poor man. The literary world lost a great mind that day."
"How did he die?"
"The newspapers said it was an Auror raid. His wife was a suspected Death Eater. I can only assume he died to keep his wife safe. As far as I know he wasn't suspected of anything. The only books he seemed to publish were potions books." The trio looked suitably sorrowful after hearing of that event. Harry felt bad about hearing this. He didn't think it was appropriate to know about someone's relative if that person did know you knew.
"Do you know when some of these pictures were taken?" Hermione asked opening to one of the pages with an older photograph.
"Let's see, I certain that one was from the mid-sixties. I remember Creves graduated in '67. This one looks like it is from the fifties." Madam Pince skimmed a few pages. "None of these look like they go past 1940. That was the year Professor Hidelberg became the Potions Professor. If I recall correctly he liked to have records of all of his classes. His favorite detention was having students figure out their mistakes after watching them replayed. They certainly learned more that way."
"Thank you, Madam Pince. I'll come back if we have any more questions."
"You do that, Miss Granger."
Once outside the library, Ron breathed a sigh of relief. "Can we go down to lunch now?"
"Ron, don't you even care about finding out who the author is?"
"No, am I suppose to?"
"You're impossible."
"So, do you think it was this Salvador guy, Hermione?" Harry prompted. He was feeling less tired, but that meant nothing about the near future.
"Possibly. I'm more curious about this Hidelberg professor. And Professor Snape."
"Why Professor Snape?"
"Because if Salvador published while he was underage, why wouldn't he let his son do so?"
"You got a point there. Snape was in school at the time. Come on, I think Ron's hungry."
"About time you noticed."
* * * * * *
Irvan was pacing through the halls muttering to himself. He was trying to figure out why he of all people was suppose to sub for a werewolf. Well, his mutterings were more along the lines of subtle curse thrown at Dumbledore and Snape. He was here to keep the Potter boy alive. No one said anything about substituting. It was degrading. Him, a proud vampire was reduced to teaching untalented children knowledge they would either never use or was of the variety their parents should have taught them.
How did he get himself into these situations? He swore he had been cursed long before he tasted unicorn blood. How else would everything turn out so badly for him? He only half believed what the slayers said about him. None of that made any sense.
Marked? How in the world could he be marked for something that would happen two thousand years after he was told about it. It was ludicrous. Just as being installed as a substitute teacher. For a werewolf, no less. Life could not get any worse.
Then he remembered that it could. Hadn't he said the same thing after Grindelwald? Hadn't something worse happened? Wasn't he still recuperating from that? Everything could get worse. And he just happened to be the vampire that it happened to.
It could get worse by having the idiotic Ministry take Severus, just because they wanted a scapegoat. Life was not fair by any means. It either liked you or it didn't.
He began to wander back to Lupin's classroom because lunch was soon to be over. That was when he saw Harry Potter and his friends. He liked the boy, but he certainly couldn't make friends with him because he had no idea how to react with children that age. He hadn't been that age in millennia, even then he was never around people that age. Vampire compounds were unusual things. They were places where vampires could rest during the day; it was always out of the sun so you didn't have to sleep in a coffin. And socialize at night, before or after you went hunting. Also, the newly Turned would learn the social order, rules of hunting, and other things needed to survive.
He hadn't been the only Born vampire at their compound. There had been his mother and father and another small family, though their child was a hundred years older than he. But he realized early on that they aged differently than the Turned. The difference was in that they aged period. The Turned appeared to remain the age they were when turned, while the Born actually went through stages of maturity. His parents had told him to drop the last two places of the human manner of counting once you reached a thousand and that would give you an age appropriate to your looks.
But the problem with age was that the Turned were at different stages of acceptance of their situation. So when the Sires left their 'children' to others to be taught after they themselves had taught all they could, the Turned found it difficult to accept that a mere child would know more than they. So he and Doin were left with the older vampires.
But what bothered him the most was that no one could answer why humans could be turned in the first place. That and why some like him and Doin weren't. He was always told that he was asking questions he didn't want answers to. He had a feeling that no one knew and whoever did was to afraid of what would happen if the population found out. So the secret was taken to someone's grave.
"Hey, Irvan!" Harry's call brought him out of his remembrance.
"Hello Harry," he returned pleasantly. He wasn't the type that was always confrontational like Severus. "Heading to class?"
"Yeah. Well, I wanted you to meet my friends, Hermione and Ron. Guys, he's the one I told you about."
Irvan looked outwardly friendly and pretended he was meeting them for the first time, but he was worried. "I'm wondering how much you told." Too much and his cover could be blown.
"Just enough to they weren't scared." So the boy was smarter than he appeared. "So what are you doing out here?"
"Headmaster Dumbledore thought I would be a good substitute for Professor Lupin. One considering the catastrophe with Professor Snape the other year, and two I just happened to be around."
"Will you be teaching us something new?"
"No, Professor Lupin has taken the trouble of writing out lesson plans this time. I think you are doing something about how the Ministry determines whether a spell is legal or not." He looked at the crestfallen faces. "It's not that bad. I'm sure we can find a way to make it a little more entertaining." He was going to have to if he wanted to stay awake through that class.
Chapter 16
_________________________
* Harry, pay attention! *
* Can't you just leave me alone, Evan? I didn't sleep well last night. *
* That is completely understandable, however I don't want to end up as a splatter on the wall. *
* This potion can't do that, can it? *
* It can if you don't watch what you're doing with the mandrake. *
* I'm slicing it. What's the big deal? *
* It's suppose to be grounded. *
* Shut up, or I'll use you next. *
* No need to get violent. I was just trying to help. *
* A lot of good you're doing. *
* Fine go to sleep and ruin your potion. See if I care. *
Harry watched Evan back away from the cauldron and sit with a wary eye on the mixture.
"Harry, are you all right, mate?"
"I'll be fine, Ron. I just need to take a nap."
"I'll say. You look dead on your feet."
"Weasley, Potter. Stop talking and get back to work," Snape yelled from the front of the room.
"What's gotten into him today?" Ron mumbled. "He's been like this all morning."
"Hmm?" Harry wasn't really listening. He was too intent on trying not to fall asleep to worry much about conversation.
"I said he's been snapping at us for no reason. Even at breakfast. Which you slept through. And Divinations, might add."
"Ten points and a detention, Weasley. I told you to quit talking." Snape was now walking around the cauldrons, examining the students' work.
"That was unfair. Harry, wake up."
Harry turned his attention to the nudge that threatened to knock his elbow from its resting place on the table. If it had been moved, his head would have made a resounding thud on the table. "I'm awake," he mumbled. What was with everyone today? He had had a bad night and just wanted to go back to bed.
"Bottle your potions and class is dismissed," Snape said from the front of the room.
"That's odd. Why would he be letting us out early?" Hermione asked no one in particular.
"Who cares? " Ron was enthusiastically bottling his potion. "The sooner we get out, the better. Right, Harry? Harry?" Ron nudged the dozing boy. "Harry, you can sleep later."
"Right," he yawned. "What are we doing?"
"Bottling."
"But I'm not finished."
* Should have paid more attention to your work, instead of sleeping. *
* Oh, be quiet, Evan. *
"Come on, Harry. Bottle a little of what you have and dump the rest. You're going to fail anyway."
"I'm coming." Harry filled two jars of his unfinished potion and dumped the rest, just as Ron suggested, grabbed his bag and followed, rather sluggishly, his friends out of the potion's lab. Again he failed to notice the black arachnid sitting on the worktable.
"Harry, I've been thinking about a way to find out who that S.O.S author is."
"That's great, Hermione," he said around a yawn. "Can we do it after I take a nap?"
"I thought you were serious about this."
"I am. I'm just tired."
"Come on, we're going to the library."
"Hermione," Ron whined, "Why do we have to go there?"
"Because I know Madam Pince has other books by an S.O.S and she might know if they are the same person. She might also know how to find out who the author really is."
"Is that necessary? It's almost lunch time."
"Almost. Meaning not yet. Honestly, I thought you both were interesting in knowing who wrote that book of yours." Hermione huffed a bit but continued to lead the reluctant pair of boys off to the library. "Madam Pince, could I ask you a few things?"
The stick of a witch leaned over her desk to peer at the three students invading her library. "Ah, Miss Granger. What would you like to know?" Harry woke up enough to realize the librarian was behaving kindly to Hermione.
"Well," Hermione began, "Harry got this book on potions over the summer and we were wondering who the author was. It was published under the person's initials. Do you know how we might be able to find out who he is?"
Madam Pince looked at them curiously. "What is the name of the book and author?" Harry couldn't stop his surprise from showing. The librarian was actually wanting to help them.
"Potions and Their Failures by S.O.S"
"Hmm. There are a good many books by that name, but not all of them are by the same man."
"Do you think you can tell us how to find out?"
"The publishers only keep names of their authors. Not the real names of the witches and wizards behind the pen names. But I know one of the men who published under S.O.S. He donated many of our books."
"Who was that, Madam Pince?"
"Salvador Odysseus Snape."
"Any relation to Professor Snape?" Harry asked. He had a sneaking suspicion there was.
"I believe Salvador was Professor Snape's father." Harry was floored at the mere suggestion Snape had relatives. Intellectually he knew the man had to have had parents, but that admitted to Snape being human. He didn't think he was ready to believe that.
"Uh, Madam Pince, why did Salvador Snape publish under his initials?" Hermione asked bring the topic closer to where they wanted.
"He told me he had started while he was too young to publish under the Ministry standards. Later I believer he continued to publish controversial books under that name."
"Do you know if he published this book?" the little redhead asked.
"I'm not sure, but I don't think so. Salvador died about three months before it was publish. Poor man. The literary world lost a great mind that day."
"How did he die?"
"The newspapers said it was an Auror raid. His wife was a suspected Death Eater. I can only assume he died to keep his wife safe. As far as I know he wasn't suspected of anything. The only books he seemed to publish were potions books." The trio looked suitably sorrowful after hearing of that event. Harry felt bad about hearing this. He didn't think it was appropriate to know about someone's relative if that person did know you knew.
"Do you know when some of these pictures were taken?" Hermione asked opening to one of the pages with an older photograph.
"Let's see, I certain that one was from the mid-sixties. I remember Creves graduated in '67. This one looks like it is from the fifties." Madam Pince skimmed a few pages. "None of these look like they go past 1940. That was the year Professor Hidelberg became the Potions Professor. If I recall correctly he liked to have records of all of his classes. His favorite detention was having students figure out their mistakes after watching them replayed. They certainly learned more that way."
"Thank you, Madam Pince. I'll come back if we have any more questions."
"You do that, Miss Granger."
Once outside the library, Ron breathed a sigh of relief. "Can we go down to lunch now?"
"Ron, don't you even care about finding out who the author is?"
"No, am I suppose to?"
"You're impossible."
"So, do you think it was this Salvador guy, Hermione?" Harry prompted. He was feeling less tired, but that meant nothing about the near future.
"Possibly. I'm more curious about this Hidelberg professor. And Professor Snape."
"Why Professor Snape?"
"Because if Salvador published while he was underage, why wouldn't he let his son do so?"
"You got a point there. Snape was in school at the time. Come on, I think Ron's hungry."
"About time you noticed."
* * * * * *
Irvan was pacing through the halls muttering to himself. He was trying to figure out why he of all people was suppose to sub for a werewolf. Well, his mutterings were more along the lines of subtle curse thrown at Dumbledore and Snape. He was here to keep the Potter boy alive. No one said anything about substituting. It was degrading. Him, a proud vampire was reduced to teaching untalented children knowledge they would either never use or was of the variety their parents should have taught them.
How did he get himself into these situations? He swore he had been cursed long before he tasted unicorn blood. How else would everything turn out so badly for him? He only half believed what the slayers said about him. None of that made any sense.
Marked? How in the world could he be marked for something that would happen two thousand years after he was told about it. It was ludicrous. Just as being installed as a substitute teacher. For a werewolf, no less. Life could not get any worse.
Then he remembered that it could. Hadn't he said the same thing after Grindelwald? Hadn't something worse happened? Wasn't he still recuperating from that? Everything could get worse. And he just happened to be the vampire that it happened to.
It could get worse by having the idiotic Ministry take Severus, just because they wanted a scapegoat. Life was not fair by any means. It either liked you or it didn't.
He began to wander back to Lupin's classroom because lunch was soon to be over. That was when he saw Harry Potter and his friends. He liked the boy, but he certainly couldn't make friends with him because he had no idea how to react with children that age. He hadn't been that age in millennia, even then he was never around people that age. Vampire compounds were unusual things. They were places where vampires could rest during the day; it was always out of the sun so you didn't have to sleep in a coffin. And socialize at night, before or after you went hunting. Also, the newly Turned would learn the social order, rules of hunting, and other things needed to survive.
He hadn't been the only Born vampire at their compound. There had been his mother and father and another small family, though their child was a hundred years older than he. But he realized early on that they aged differently than the Turned. The difference was in that they aged period. The Turned appeared to remain the age they were when turned, while the Born actually went through stages of maturity. His parents had told him to drop the last two places of the human manner of counting once you reached a thousand and that would give you an age appropriate to your looks.
But the problem with age was that the Turned were at different stages of acceptance of their situation. So when the Sires left their 'children' to others to be taught after they themselves had taught all they could, the Turned found it difficult to accept that a mere child would know more than they. So he and Doin were left with the older vampires.
But what bothered him the most was that no one could answer why humans could be turned in the first place. That and why some like him and Doin weren't. He was always told that he was asking questions he didn't want answers to. He had a feeling that no one knew and whoever did was to afraid of what would happen if the population found out. So the secret was taken to someone's grave.
"Hey, Irvan!" Harry's call brought him out of his remembrance.
"Hello Harry," he returned pleasantly. He wasn't the type that was always confrontational like Severus. "Heading to class?"
"Yeah. Well, I wanted you to meet my friends, Hermione and Ron. Guys, he's the one I told you about."
Irvan looked outwardly friendly and pretended he was meeting them for the first time, but he was worried. "I'm wondering how much you told." Too much and his cover could be blown.
"Just enough to they weren't scared." So the boy was smarter than he appeared. "So what are you doing out here?"
"Headmaster Dumbledore thought I would be a good substitute for Professor Lupin. One considering the catastrophe with Professor Snape the other year, and two I just happened to be around."
"Will you be teaching us something new?"
"No, Professor Lupin has taken the trouble of writing out lesson plans this time. I think you are doing something about how the Ministry determines whether a spell is legal or not." He looked at the crestfallen faces. "It's not that bad. I'm sure we can find a way to make it a little more entertaining." He was going to have to if he wanted to stay awake through that class.