Usual disclaimer applies.
Chapter Four:
I have always found men wearing jewelry a strange habit. It is more common in the wizarding world, which at first glance I found more strange than the habit itself. The more I think about it, the more sense it makes. It is only the sons of purebloods who continue the fad in this world.
There is a seventh year Ravenclaw whom I teach every third Monday of the month who wears the same necklace at every meeting. It is a thin piece of wood, rounded on the ends in a shape similar to that of a muggle surf board, only slightly elongated and wider around the middle. It has a pale blue raven in the center, most likely a cut sapphire stone.
His name is Mark Gibbon, and he gives me the least amount of trouble of my Ravenclaw class, which worries me. Even in this time there are very few pureblood families who are blood traitors; most are still tied to the practices of Voldemort, choosing to follow those who resurrect his ideals. Having someone like Mark Gibbon giving me very little trouble, especially with my expulsion charges, can mean one of two things: he knows something about Mr. Malfoy, Mr. Weasley, or my ties to their actions, or he actually likes me. The former seems more plausible.
I contemplate asking Lindsay to watch the actions of the students who I have the displeasure of dedicating my time to. I actually shouldn't complain, it gives me something to do to pass my time in this world and allows me to brush up on my own skills. It is draining work, though.
"This way," I say leading her down a long corridor on the fourth floor of the castle. I open a heavy wooden door with a flick of my wrist and immediately feel the toll it takes on my magical reserve. I fight off the impulse to sway on my feet and close my eyes until the dizzy spell passes. The class looks at me as I enter the room.
"Afternoon," I greet them, and they return it, the same amount of disdain from their voices as was in mine. I set my messenger bag down on the table, pulling out the essays from within that I had assigned to this class the month before. I had to have a written part of the course, too, according to Professor Snape.
"Some of you did remarkably well," I say, holding the parchments in my hands, "and the grades ranged from one hundred to… not one hundred." A few students who were sure they'd received high marks laugh, while others groan at this news. I just smile as I hand half the stack to Lindsay and we work on quickly handing back the essays.
"Now, for today's lesson you will be doing silent banishing charms, followed by silent levitation charm, then bring the object back to you with the summoning charm." A girl in the back raises her hand and I raise my eyebrows to acknowledge her question.
"Didn't we do that at our last meeting?" she asks, a little upset that we haven't reached a new subject yet. Even after ten years I still find summoning, banishing, and the simplest spells the hardest ones to focus on because they seem like they should be second nature. The students are already cocky about their magical abilities and it makes me frustrated that they don't get drained the same way I do.
"Yes," I reply, and then it comes to me. The best idea I think I have ever had. "However, this time there will be a spin on it Ms. Mackernen." The class grumbles at this news, and some students sarcastically thank Ms. Mackernen for getting them extra work. I turn to Lindsay and she has the same wicked glint in her eye that I had in my smile. "Mind fetching Professor Snape for me? I need his permission before I do this." She nods and I turn back to the class. After a few moments of silence I command them to work and move around the room, correcting wrist flicks and concentrating looks.
Severus Snape appears in my classroom, followed by a still smirking Lindsay. The students look up and immediately stop all activities at the announcement of his presence.
"So what is this assignment of yours, Ms. Granger?"
That man always had a way to cut straight to the point of the conversation; it is sort of annoying. The more I think about it I realize that it is a true Slytherin trait: Severus does it, Lindsay does it, Simon does it, Draco does it, and I do it. The only people I speak with who don't do it are the people who aren't associated with the House of Slytherin.
I motion my arm to the window on the far side of the room; he follows me into the corner. "I would like your permission to take the students wands for a week and allow them to understand the full meaning of wandless magic." He looks at me for a moment, a stunned look on his face.
"Absolutely not," he says, turning away from me and stalking back across the room to the door.
"But Severus!" He turns and gives me a hard look for calling him by his first name and I wince at my mistake. "Please, they are getting cocky with their abilities and don't get my lessons!"
"That is your problem, Ms. Granger. There must be another way to get such a point across."
I shake my head. "No, there isn't. Nobody gets it, not even you!" It is his turn to wince, before replacing his neutral look.
"Ms. Granger, watch your tone. You are not technically a professor here, and your services can be discontinued," he warns harshly. I cannot stop my mouth from falling open and the hatred lodging itself in my chest; it is a feeling I have gotten used to.
I nod my head and summon my messenger back to my hands from across the room. The anger and magic combined are too much for my system; I wobble backwards on my feet, losing my balance temporarily.
"No," I bite out in a hushed tone laced with the anger I am feeling; I catch a glimpse of Lindsay who looks worried. She always said I was one of the few Slytherins that didn't keep my emotions in check.
"Yes, they can be, Ms. Granger."
I shake my head. "No, they can't. I hold more cards than you do in this situation Severus." The look he sends me is warning, letting me know to not speak of such things in present company but I really don't care. I trusted him, foolishly. I shake my head, and walk past him. "Fine, you take over my classes for the next three months then."
He follows me into the hallway, Lindsay and the class of seventh year Ravenclaws in his wake. "Ms. Granger, stop this instant! You aren't meant to leave for another two weeks; you'll die if you leave now."
I pause, but don't turn to face him. His tone, for once, is thick with concern. "My life doesn't hold much for me, Professor Snape." I start walking again, practically jogging down the three flights of stairs to the entrance hall where I see my two sisters, along with Harry and Ron, standing near the front door.
"Hello, traitor," greets Ron. I nod my head in his direction, wondering if I can summon my red trunk up here without help of my wand. It is worth I shot. I raise my hand, palm facing out flat against the air in front of me, and shout Accio as loud as I can, focusing on a mental picture of my trunk. To my surprise I hear doors opening and closing, and then the trunk is in my hands.
"Jane, don't!" It is Severus again. He is jogging towards me from the stairs, his black teacher's robes billowing out behind him. I snap my fingers and instantly my wand appears, and I smile cruelly, pointing it at him. He stops dead in his tracks.
"I told you, Severus, I hold more cards in this deal."
This time it is Hermione who speaks, but her voice is cold and distant, uncaring. Her eyes betray her when I look her way, though; filled with curiosity and worry. "Jane what on earth are you doing? Where did you get a wand!"
I look back at everyone who had now gathered in the entrance hall and I mentally curse myself for being so careless, Draco will be furious if people ever find out that I am linked to him.
"Don't follow me," I say, backing away from them slowly, the familiar hammering of a headache pounding against the inside of my skull. Severus is right, I will die without my potion, but it is a risk I am willing to take. This is one of those things I am about to rush into foolishly, but I know that I'm correct in doing so. The last thing I hear before I reach the end of the anti-apparition zones and 'pop' away is the sound of feet running after me, and the sound of worried Severus Snape who keeps shouting, "catch her, she is on a suicide mission!"