Disclaimer: Most of the characters and settings of this fic entirely belong to JK Rowling
NB: I've enabled anonymous reviews (I didn't even know they were disabled! It's the story of my life: I don't realise a half of the things that happen to me.)so, now, you don't need to log in to review(which was, of course, the only reason why did not, euh...?)
3. A lonely soul
Given the distance, she couldn't reasonably expect a reply from her gran before at least a week and a half. The waiting would have been unbearable if she didn't have other problems to distract her a little bit.
On the next morning, she learnt that some Slytherin-girls had already nosed out about her detention. Sophia wasn't really loved by them because she provided the Ravenclaws with rather too many points and, anyway, was "just a Mudblood". Moreover, one of the 7th years-Slytherins, Julia Jerkins, bore her a particular grudge because, two years ago, Sophia cast on her a Furnunculus-spell in front of a crammed compartment of the Hogwarts Express, including a 7th year-Slytherin-guy, whom Julia was secretly in love with, for having made a rather disagreeable remark on Sophia's origins (Muggle and Russian).
Thus, when she saw Julia, walking down the corridor towards her with two other girls from her gang, she knew what was to come.
"Oh, look!" Julia cried, grinning in a rather nasty way. Here comes our exemplary "Sophia Lebedev", freshly fallen from her pedestal! Shut you up, that detention, didn't it, Lebedev?" They burst into a satisfied laughter. "So, how does it feel to be like EVERYBODY, "Miss-I-am-the-best"?"
"Oh, I'll certainly start to worry when I'll be like YOU." Sophia answered, through clenched teeth.
"I see, Miss despises us, little humble Slytherins," simpered Julia. "Oh, by the way, still wearing your prefect-pin? Well, I bet, you'll have to take it off: prefects don't get DETENTIONS!"
"Huh, I suppose, I'll still have the great comfort of having contributed to your happiness. You don't need much to drive you wild with joy, Jerkins!"
She went away, her knees shaking a little bit. Of course, she hated to meet Julia and her gang and couldn't say she was not afraid of them at all but she also learned not to show out her fear: it was the only way to stand up to them.
She left the dormitory before the others to go to the owlery and send the letter she had written last night to her grandmother
The owlery was one of Sophia's favourite places: she liked its' bare stone-walls and the chilly wind that stroke her face when she entered and took her breath away, and the sound of thousands of flapping wings.
felt as if she was a bird herself, ready to dive into the magnificent landscape, stretching endlessly before her eyes, her heart on the verge of bursting with wild joy before so much beauty and with wild fear before all that emptiness. She had the impression that her whole future-life was laid here, in front of her. It was terrifying and exhilarating; she felt like crying and laughing at the same time. At least, her parents' death had learned her to love life.
Her owl, Becky, rushed down on her with enthusiastic hooting, even before Sophia had time to look up, nearly knocking her off her feet. Athena was very young and hadn't learned yet to restrain her emotions towards her beloved mistress. Sophia even wondered if her owl was going to get any calmer one day. It would not be just a dubious pun to say that Athena was featherbrained. She could fly away for several days, even if she always came back with a little present to make it up: a big rat, a field mouse or even a small mole, at different stages of decay. Indeed, it was a very nice post-owl.
"Yes, Becky, yes! I have something for you," Sophia said, fixing the letter to the bird's paw as it was jumping up and down with impatience. "Go, my dear, carry it to gran for me, will you? And then, well, you'll bring me back the answer! Whatever it will be, she added for herself. "Come on, go!" As Becky left in a frantic flapping of wings, Sophia had the impression that a heavy iron gate had shut on her .
She went down to the Great Hall, where Helen and the others were already seated, having breakfast. As she walked along the Ravenclaw-table, she noticed heads turning in her direction and whispers. Of course, it was the news of the day: Sophia Lebedev got detention! She sighed: they really had nothing else to worry about!
"You look exhausted," dropped Helen into her ear, as she sat down. "Are you sure you slept last night?"
"Strange you ask: I slept like a baby."
"Hum," answered Helen doubtfully. "You're the gossip of the day, I believe."
"And they still don't know the whole thing" Sophia answered mentally. "God! how am I to face Snape now?" She still felt the burn of his fingers on her right hand and his low, velvet-like voice still sounded in her ear.
She passed the main part of the morning in a half-awaken state: she now cruelly felt the lack of sleep and would have given anything for a nap.
Fortunately, she had double-Defence against the Dark Arts. It consisted in taking notes on the endless and pompous Professor Muffleduf's discourses, which were mainly the repetition of the content of their text-books, littered with his "valuable personal remarks" that proved to be completely useless.
It was Professor Muffleduf's first year at Hogwarts and, actually, his first year of teaching in general. According to his sayings, he had just came back from Siberia, where he had passed three years, fighting bear-headed monsters. Sophia still had difficulties in imagining Professor Muffleduf standing to a hoard of infuriated beasts with his golden spectacles that conveyed him the look of a frightened owl and his pompous manners. But he spoke Russian quite well, which gave him credit.
Arrias Muffleduf was an incredible mixture of pride and humility and had a gift for talking in a most complicated manner and during long hours just to say as much as nothing.
He had performed a complete verbal firework in front of the whole school to introduce himself during the beginning of the school- year-feast about "the incredible honour he felt it was for him to work in such a prestigious institution, known world-wide, in collaboration with such remarkable specialists and about his great joy at the idea of contributing to the education of the future elite of the wizard world, etc, etc." He was awfully, even unnaturally dull and as soon as he opened his mouth to talk, his students opened theirs to yawn.
However, today, Sophia didn't mind Muffleduf: at least, she could think or doze in peace!
And the two things she only could think about were: how long would it take her grand-mother to send her an answer and how she would face Snape in her next potion-class on Monday. She felt it would be unbearable to look him in the eye. But what was yet more unbearable, was that she understood that it was rather he, Snape, who should fear to meet her and that she, on the contrary, had nothing to blame herself for.
But had she really?
Somehow, she felt that she had acted in a most childish and petty manner, plainly shouting insults at him. And that stuff about "emotional void"? The fact was that she had been caught off her guards and just got totally lost, not knowing how to react. She was furious with herself because, for a short moment, she found disturbing a man that she was supposed to hate, that she had to hate. She couldn't get rid of the idea that, if he had done what he did, it was because she had let him do it and, thus, it was as if she had betrayed her parents.
"And what if he was here when they were being murdered? And what if he was the very man who did it?" she kept torturing herself. She hated herself more than she hated him. And that was why she feared to look at him again: his sight would be the reminder of the guilt that was gnawing her.
However, Monday came, and she entered Snape's dungeon, and looked at him, and blushed, and went pale, and blushed again, and was greatly disconcerted because there was really nothing to blush and get pale about.
Snape was just as usual: as cold and as harsh towards her as towards the others, but without excessive cruelty either. He had fully recovered his impartiality and this lack of discomposure frustrated her: it was as if what had happened on that day, was a fantasy of hers and that he had nothing to do with it!
Next Thursday was the day of Sophia's 18th birthday, but, as she woke up in the morning, she didn't really manage to feel as joyful as one is supposed to feel on such a day. During breakfast, Helen gave her "Two thousand years together: an essay on the paradoxical and controversial relationship between wizards and Muggles through history" by Vlad Zinovievitch, a book she had been coveting for some time and Joseph a big box of Honeyduke cream-filled chocolates.
"Oh, I see," she said sulkily. "You want me to grow fat and ugly!"
"Yes! To be sure I'll be the only man to fancy you!", answered Joseph in a falsely-passionate tone, entering her game. Suddenly she blushed and turned her head.
"Hey, 't was a joke!" he muttered. "What's your problem, Sophia?"
"Oh, 'scuse me, I am tired… stress and everything…"
"Yeah, I see: it is about getting old. Eighteen, your vital forces declining, dusk of life! Hey, hey, stop smiling immediately: it is bad for your wrinkles! And look, white hair!"
Joseph was in great shape and she was feeling better. This, however, didn't last. When she heard the flapping of hundreds of wings of the post-owls above her head, her heart jumped as if it wanted to get out of her body. She saw Becky flying towards her and dropping in her lap a parcel and a letter.
"Oh, it must be your grand-mother's present," said Helen. "Open it!"
She started to undo the wrapping but her hands didn't obey her and her fingers felt like wood, she kept eyeing at the letter that lay on the table by her plate: it was a torture. Both her friends wore an extremely puzzled look.
"Sophia, stop that massacre!"Helen finally said with a smile
"Uh what?"she gave a start and nearly dropped the parcel. "What do you mean?"
"Are you OK? Let me undo it for you!"
"Yeah. Thank you" Her hands were finally free: she clutched the envelop.
"Oh, Cracky!" she said suddenly. "I forgot I haven't finished my Runes-paper yesterday! I wanted to look for a couple of things in a couple of books and... I have to go to the library. See you in class, then!"
She leaped on her feet, picked her bag and walked away, refraining from running. She overheard Joseph's surprised voice in her back.
"Hey, Sophia, you forgot your present!"
The library was deserted. She sat down at a table and didn't move for several minutes, staring at the letter that she was holding with her two hands, as if it was going to explode. Then, slowly, she opened the envelop and unfolded the piece of writing-paper that it contained. It was covered with her grand-mother's elongated, even hand-writing."
My dearest Sophia!
First of all, let me wish you a very happy 18th birthday and as much joy and success as you deserve. I have no doubt that you are going to get most brilliantly through your examinations and just want you to know that I am extremely proud to have such a grand-daughter as you, my love, although, as you very well know, I do not really approve of the path you chose to step on by going to Hogwarts, going back into the magical world. And what I have to tell you now will help you to fully understand my apprehension and my disapproval.
I have feared this moment for years, the moment when you would ask the whole truth about your parents' death, the moment you would understand there was something wrong, the moment I would have to give answers to your questions. If you had stayed with me, this moment, probably, would not come at all; still, the things being what they are, this moment is now.
I know only too well how much you love your parents and how shocked you were by their death. Heaven knows, nobody deserves to be deprived of their parents at such a young age. And, indeed, they were excellent parents and brilliant wizards. But they also were human beings and witnessed hard times and did what they thought was best to do. Indeed, your father did what he thought was best for Anna and you and I certainly don't have the right to judge him.
As a child, Alexandre was very sensitive to what the others thought of him and, I fear, he never forgave us for being Muggles. Having accepted to send him to Hogwarts is the thing that I regret the most in my life.
Despite all the love we gave him, he always suffered cruelly from a sort of complex, feeling inferior to the others because he was not a "pure", but a "Muggle-born", doing everything to prove them that he was their equal. He was a brilliant and ambitious (in the best meaning of the word) student, much more than most of the "pure-bloods" but some of them kept reminding him where he came from.
He made for himself a brilliant career at the Ministry, trying to get the place he deserved. Still, he understood too well, when the times grew hard, that the "Death Eaters" wouldn't forget his origins and, at the same occasion, his daughter's.
Of course, Anna immediately devoted herself body and soul to the struggle against what you call the Dark Forces and you may be sure that he did too. But he also foresaw what would happen to them, to you, if that Voldemort won and, believe me, at that time, according to what I heard from him, it was more than probable, and he made the choice of taking precautions.
Did he really have the choice at all?
Sophia, your father gave information to those people. He understood that he could take advantage of his position at the place where he worked to be useful to them and to guarantee himself, and Anna, and you safety. Of course, he didn't tell Anna because she wouldn't have accepted it, but, intelligent as she was, I am sure that she eventually started to understand, she just wouldn't admit to it, accept the reality.
Indeed, he was the person who told those people about that secret Ministry-meeting that was supposed to be attended by the most active resistant fighters against that terrible man and, I suppose, they promised him they would let him go and they just did not: maybe he was of no need anymore.
I know that sacrificing all those lives to save his and his family's is easily open to criticism and I am sure that, if he had survived, he wouldn't have been able to live with that weight on his conscience and your mother would certainly have blamed him.
Sophia, your father committed great faults, indeed, but he was a very unhappy man and he did everything he could to secure you a happy future, a future at all. And this fact alone allows you to love him as much as you did before you discovered the truth about him.
I am perfectly aware of the fact that this is not the best of birthday-presents but you just have to accept it now. You will have to learn to live with this weight, just as I did and, at least, you have nothing to blame yourself for.
Please, write me back and tell me if you liked what I sent you. Give my love to Helen and take care of yourself. I am impatiently looking forwards to the end of your examinations to see and hold you again.
I send you this letter and your birthday present with your owl. I hope they'll get to you: I still have great difficulties in trusting your ways of communication!
Your Grandmother
Here it was. She sat, staring at the letter. Her Grandmother was clearly partial; however hard she tried to find excuses to what her son had done, his guilt was evident. "Of course, he had the choice!" thought Sophia mournfully. "He wanted to save my life? And hand over to the Death Eaters the lives of his friends who had families and children too. My life certainly isn't worth all theirs together!"
She recollected that evening, the last time she saw them. Her father was preparing to go, then, an argument broke. Sophia was standing outside the kitchen door, in the dark corridor.
"I am not blind and I am not stupid, Sasha" there was a note of despair in her mother's tone "I can see there is something. How long have you been doing that? Why didn't you tell me anything?"
"Tell you what, Ania? Tell you what?"
"And the most frightening thing is that you keep trying to fool me! Why don't you trust me, Sasha? You know that I am not like the others, I don't love you because of your intelligence, or your position at the Ministry!"
"Why are you telling me that?" his tone softened. Sophia heard him pacing towards her mother "Of course, I know it, Ania! I've always wondered about what I must have done to receive such a blessing as your love. I don't deserve it" he went on in a low voice, "I love you."
"Then, let me come with you tonight!"
"I can't."
"Why?" There was a desperate silence.
"Because I ask you, I beg you, I beseech you not to come. Please, stay here, with our daughter. Please, Ania, my faults are great, greater than you can imagine but, please, don't make it harder than what I can stand! Please, please, don't come with me!"
There was a silence again and then, as if answering an unspoken question, he uttered: "It is done and nothing can be changed". He opened the kitchen door and his eyes met Sophia's. He didn't speak a word but,at that moment, she felt rather than understood, as acutely as only a child could, that he was telling himself he would never see her again. Her mother followed him to the door.
"I'll be back by ten" he said, kissing her lightly on the forehead but Sophia could see his long-fingered hand clutching frantically his wife's arm. She shut the door and leaned on it, closing her eyes and Sophia stood in front of her, not daring to move.
"Mum", she finally said, "you do have to go, don't you? Please, don't go!" She burst into tears, run towards her mother and embraced her neck. At that moment, she remembered, she had only one thought: to try with all her might to prevent her mother from leaving. She didn't really understand what was going on, it was an irrational, childish fear but, recollecting it now,eleven years later, still made all her insides freeze.
"Now, now, Sonia, my little darling," her mother was gently caressing her hair, "don't cry, my heart. I have to go,you understand it very well, you are already a grown-up. I'll ask Rebecca to come and look after you. Look at me, look at me. Do you trust me? I'll come back with Dad. We'll be back by ten. I love you, Sonia."
Her eyes filled with tears. How was she to go on now? Her parents were her only everlasting reference mark, they were her stability and never disappointed her; they were as secure as the ground she stepped on and now, it was as if somebody had stolen the ground from under her feet.
Around her, the library was filling up with people but she didn't notice them; she thought of her father, trying to recollect her last memories of him. AlexandreLebedev was, as far as she could remember, always up to his ears in work, never laughed much and, particularly during the last year of his life, used to look exhausted and, sort of, dried up.
"Of course, a double life must not be an easy thing to cope with!"
Sophia thought bitterly. But she also remembered the sparkle in his eye when he looked at her and the marvellous tales he told her before she went to bed, on the rare occasions when he came back home before she fell asleep while waiting for him, making desperate efforts to prevent her eyes from shutting closed, pricking up her ears to hear his pace up the stairs. But who knows, maybe he was coming back from a meeting with a Death Eater…
God! Was this now to poison all her memories of him?
He used to be ashamed of his parents; would she have to be ashamed of him for the rest of her life? It was unbearable and she felt terribly lonely: nobody could help her, not a single soul.
She suddenly remembered she had Ancient Runes right now and that she had to go. She lifted her head and looked around her, wondering if somebody had noticed her distress.
And she saw Snape.
He was standing in the far corner of the room, apparently looking down for something in a book. He raised his head and peered at her, his eyes glowing strangely. It was short but strong: if it wasn't Snape, Sophia would have said it was a glow of compassion. Then, he sharply shut the book closed, put it back on the shelve and went away in his usual determined pace.
She stood up, pocketed her letter and headed towards the door where she bumped into two 2nd year-Slytherin-girls who were giggling rather loudly and certainly inappropriately to the place. Sophia frowned: after all, she was a prefect.
"Loud noises are strictly forbidden in the library! It is a place where people are supposed to work without being disturbed. So, would the pair of you be so kind as to shut up immediately or go and unreservedly express you feelings outside?"
One of the girls sniggered.
"You must be Sophia Lebedev! Are you sure you're still a prefect? Prefects don't get detentions!"
"Very well!" Sophia snapped coldly. "Five points from Slytherin, five points each." And she went away. Strangely enough, she felt much better for a short moment and she surprised herself thinking that she understood why Snape bullied students: it proved to be a great relief when one was depressed.
Her head was still buzzing with questions: how did her grandmother discover her father was a spy? Did he tell her himself? It was highly improbable since not even his wife knew the truth. She certainly was told by the Ministry. Then, how did the Ministry learn it if all the people who were at the meeting were killed? And why wasn't there anything about her father's betrayal in that file she saw? How come Snape knew about her father too? Actually, everybody knew, except for her!
She passed the next two days presuming, supposing, imagining things. Of course, it was useless, she had to find a way of getting more details. Writing to her grandmother again and waiting for an answer was out of question. "What then?" she asked herself for the umpteenth time, as she was yawning on her Arithmancy exercise on next Monday-evening.
And suddenly, the answer to her question came as easily, as if somebody had whispered it into her ear. She leaped on her feet immediately. Of course, it was quite late but the person she wanted to see was very unlikely to be in bed. She slipped discreetly out of the room and headed towards the Headmaster's study.