Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any member of the Harry Potter universe. They belong to the estimable JK Rowling and I am infinitely grateful for her letting us borrow them to play with a bit.
Chapter Five: …But Not Much
Snape lifted his head from his perusal of the texts in front of him. It was late, he was tired, and he had no time to coddle this child.
"Either enter or leave, but don't dawdle in the doorway," he snapped lifting his head enough to watch her enter.
He reluctantly revised his 'child'. She was obviously his age or only a little younger and had the lines of strain and stress to prove it. No, not a child, a woman full grown. He hadn't bothered noticing the last time he had seen her. Perhaps this would not be as aggravating as he had believed.
"The Headmaster has said you agreed to help me, I thank you for it." For an opening line, he supposed it didn't rank half bad. Yet he fully intended to take the upper hand quickly.
"I don't need your thanks and I-"
She spoke over him. No one ever spoke over him, "But I would like to add my doubts that you are capable of duplicating my father's work- nevertheless surpassing it. However, duty forces that I thank you for agreeing to try."
Snape held his temper by a thread no wider than a strand of hair. "Your confidence is heart-warming," he sneered.
She shrugged, obviously uncaring, and walked over to place a vial and a notebook on the table in front of him.
"What are these?" he raised an eyebrow.
"My father's notes and the current form of my antidote. I thought you might wish to study those before we waste time sitting here together with information you could be gaining on your own." He thought he detected a smile lurking on the corners of her mouth and was surprised to find one lurking on his as well. As much as a smile has ever thought of lurking on the corners of Severus Snape's mouth anyway. He quickly suppressed such an abnormal instinct.
"While I appreciate the sentiment that will keep you out of my laboratory, I will need to question you on things from time to time. And of course testing will have to be done if I am to find a worthwhile cure." The emphasis he placed in 'testing' was not pleasant and he knew it.
"I thought as much. Both I and my library, which includes my father's works as well as my family collection, are at your disposal."
"Your family collection?" He met her eyes. "The Callistas line is unknown to me."
"I speak of family from farther back than this generation. The de'Marlenia line is an old one, if no longer grand." she paused thoughtfully, "My collection is, for the most part, exhaustive."
The name tickled the back of Snape's brain but he shoved it aside for the moment, her boast needed more immediate attention. "Exhaustive?" he sneered with a sardonic lift of his eyebrow, "Then perhaps you could lend me the Diaries of Wyvernbird?"
"Lord or Lady Wyvernbird?"
"Acclimating and assimilating noncombustive Magicks?" he snapped.
"First or second edition?"
"St George's Almanac?"
"In my classroom."
"Compelling the Senses and Befuddling the Mind?"
"Every girl needs one."
Snape grudgingly admitted to being the slightest bit impressed. He didn't have any of the texts he mentioned other than the Diaries, which were a gift from Minerva he'd never admit to having enjoyed.
"Perhaps if I find myself at a loose end I will avail myself to your… collection." Snape sighed in regret at what he was about to say next. "Seeing as how we will be- working- together, I have changed the password for entrance to this lab, feel free to enter as you need to. But do not touch anything!" he quickly amended.
"Wouldn't dream of it."
He grimaced. When she raised an eyebrow at him he nodded towards his door. "We're done here."
Zivra smiled to herself in the hallway. And Round One goes to… Zivra! Ahh, ahh. And the crowd goes wild!
She was still silently applauding herself when she rounded the corner into another professor.
"I beg your pardon," she said automatically.
"Perhaps you should pay better attention to where you are heading."
Zivra re-evaluated who exactly it was she had run into. A quick scan through her memory said that this was the new Dark Arts professor- something or other Forasen. Forasen certainly didn't have tenure, and neither did she have seniority. Seeing as how they'd run into each other, she saw no reason to put up with the attitude she was receiving.
"Perhaps you should do the same. It takes two people to make a collision of this sort," she sneered. She'd just spent five minutes with the sneer master and five minutes was obviously all it took to learn from experience.
The professor crossed her arms over her breast. She opened her mouth to say something, but obviously changed her mind because she dropped her arms and asked instead, "So you're the new History of Magic professor. Good of you to finally show for the term."
Oh, she wants to play games; I'm up for it. "I came as quick as I could. Better to arrive a little late than to leave early."
Forasen growled at her, an actual growl. She didn't seem too pleased about the reminder about the volatility of her job. "Of course ma'am, I couldn't agree more."
Age, low blow. She waved a hand as if to clear an argument, "Think nothing of it, I'm sure you'll grow into your new role with a little more time."
With that she swept past the young woman; a self-satisfied smirk on her face.
Desdemona gritted her teeth as that old hag brushed by her.
Hag isn't true and you know it, she mentally chided.
It didn't matter. She had firmly made up her mind that she did not, under any circumstances, like that particular professor. And whether she was an old hag or as young and beautiful as herself, Dessie loathed her.
Okay, she readily admitted that she was a woman of quick judgment. But her judgments had never served her wrong before. She could feel it in her bones that the History of Magic professor was going to be a problem in some way. She just wasn't sure how.
She looked up to find herself in front of a painting of the Salem witch trials. "Ministers of Grace." she muttered half-heartedly and didn't even notice Judge Danforth's acknowledgement of her.
Inside her rooms, she crossed to a set of double doors and opened them to step out onto her balcony overlooking one of Hogwarts many interior courtyards; albeit from a great height. She sighed loudly
What do people do from going insane around here? she wondered idly.
At almost the same moment, an eagle owl, with a full five feet of wingspan, landed on the railing next to her. She reached out for a friendly pat as she untied the message from its leg, but the bird regally flinched from her touch. When she opened it, she immediately knew why.
Dearest Desdemona,
It has been too long, no?
We have missed you at Malfoy manor. In fact, had Draco not told us that you were one of his professors this year we might never have found you, again. Twould be a pity, would it not, if you were to yet again disappear. You have obligations to your blood Dessie, the Meliflua line needs you to take your rightful place in it.
This parchment is your invitation to a little gathering we will be having here on All Hallow's Eve- in honour of your return to us. Please be sure to bring it with you as the consequences of its misplacement could be most dire.
RSVP with Narcissa as soon as possible as we like to know how many to expect to our little revels.
Your dearest friend,
Lucius Malfoy
Dessie didn't even notice the owl taking flight into the night. She laid her head against the cool stone of the balustrade. She should have remembered that Narcissa had a son of the right age to attend Hogwarts, and that he was one with the little brat in her Defence classes. She had done everything she could think of to escape from Lucius Malfoy, even changing her last name, and yet he had found her anyway. The man was a demon in his pursuit of her, and Dessie was willing to bet galleons to sickles that the analogy might be literal.
She turned from her balcony to pace her rooms. Ignoring the invitation was out of the question. There was too much implication in it that this would be a gathering of Death Eaters. Or old purebloods. Either way, it was not invitation to ignore. But to decline? That might be even worse.
Lord she hated Lucius Malfoy. Even the Lestranges had garnered less ill-will from her when she had still drifted in those circles. She entertained a fleeting thought of failing his son just for the evil pleasure of it; but suppressed it. She was a professional and would certainly be acting as such.
Across the room and through an open archway, she could here her bed calling to her, to forget the whole thing and get some sleep. Well, maybe not the last part, but it was calling to her.
"Desdemona…. Desdemona…"
She groaned loudly. The lethifold she had had shipped to show her fourth years was loose again.
"God damn it!" she shouted at wit's end, and pulled her wand and growled a Patronus curse. The lethifold folded itself- folded itself, lethifold, she chuckled with just a hint of hysteria- and floated back into its container. This time, she spared no expense on her wards. If it was getting out again, it wasn't going to live to enjoy the experience. Her patience had run out.
As she settled into her bed she could just barely make out her own mummer of "I hate this place," drifting unheeded into the night.
Lucius Malfoy smiled to himself as he watched his owl's return flight. So little Dessie Meliflua was teaching at Hogwarts. And the Dark Lord had his own servant there. Coincidences are the dreams fools are made of, he thought vaguely. He would soon find out where her loyalties lay.
He harboured no illusions as to the girl's feelings about him, but they were erroneous. There was enough dissension in the ranks of the Death Eaters that a little thing like undying hatred for the Malfoy family would not hinder anything truly important.
The gathering on All Hallow's Eve would be a collection of purebloods, both Death Eater and non, and he would stand above them all- as it was his party. The little luxuries influence and wealth gave had always been good to him.
People who say power is not everything, obviously don't have any, he chuckled to himself.
A/N: The books mentioned by Severus are a figment of my imagination- the lethifold is not (Fantastic Beats and Where to Find Them)