Seated at his desk, Snape pushed a pile of recently graded papers away from him, tossing his correcting quill on top. His third year Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff class had disappointed him, yet again. They had failed to grasp the importance of memorizing the proper way to measure various ingredients. It was dry material, he knew this, but it was still required. Potions was meticulous work, and even a small mistake could have dire consequences.
He would have them cover all of the work again, but he wasn't about to waste his own time because of their foolishness. He had a very strict teaching schedule, from the very first day of school to the very last, which had to be followed if his pupils were to learn all that was required. He made a mental note to assign all of the work from the chapters they had spent the first week of school covering for homework on Monday, and it would all be due by the next class on Wednesday.
That was odd, he wasn't expecting anyone. Perhaps he had only thought-
No, the rather persistent knock came again. Must be a student who had forgotten something in his classroom, Snape thought, as he stood and made his way towards the door. He would have to deduct points for such carelessness; it was not to be tolerated.
Pulling open the door to admit the student, a disapproving look already positioned on his face, he looked down his crooked nose to discover that it was not a student that had come knocking.
"Severus? I was wondering if I could have a word with you." Dumbledore asked, though it was not a request, and Snape knew it. He moved aside to allow Dumbledore's entry, and to his chagrin watched Istelle follow in behind him. Closing the door, he schooled his features so they betrayed no emotion.
Istelle did not appear to have any such ability. She was obviously uncomfortable and clearly desiring to be anywhere but in Snape's classroom at this moment. Her furtive glances towards the door didn't go unnoticed by Snape. Dumbledore either, apparently, as he motioned for Istelle to take a seat next to him before the desk and requested Snape shut the door and return to his seat.
"I believe the two of you met the first day of school to begin Istelle's Occlumency lessons. If I hear correctly, she was able to force you out of her mind, but unable to prevent you from entering her mind in the first place. Have you had any lessons since?" Dumbledore asked calmly, his clear blue gaze focused on Snape. He, of course, already knew the answer to his question. He must have asked Istelle, and her answer was most likely the reason for this impromptu meeting.
"No, sir, we haven't had the chance to arrange another meeting. But I did give Istelle clear instructions that will benefit her in our next lesson." Snape said, steepling his fingers under his chin, then adding as an afterthought as he shifted his eyes from Dumbledore's calm figure to Istelle. "If she has followed them, that is."
If it was possible, Istelle's discomfort seemed to grow. She sat up a bit straighter, and smoothed the nonexistent wrinkles out of the vibrant green fabric of her robes. Apparently she hadn't followed his instructions. An odd kind of disappointment spread through Snape. He had so hoped Istelle would be more willing to apply herself than Potter had been.
"And have you, Istelle?" Dumbledore asked as he turned towards her, his voice even and his face blank.
"Well, yes. I mean, no. Well, it's kind of in between." Istelle gave a heavy sigh and threw her hands up. "I've tried, I have. But I just can't seem to clear my mind before I fall asleep. There are things-" Istelle's glance flickered from Dumbledore's face to Snape's for a second, "-I can't stop thinking about."
"Just as I had expected, she doesn't have the ability to control her emotions." Snape remarked severely. His anger rose, and he doubted she had even tried to do as he had instructed.
"Yes, Severus, I lack the ability, but I do possess the capacity. And the only degree of separation between the two is education. Perchance that is where my problem lies." Istelle bit back, her voice rising as her face heated.
"Are you seriously suggesting I am at fault?"
"I am hardly suggesting it Severus. I am blatantly stating that I don't believe you have the proper character required of your profession."
"Miss Malfoy I will not have you questioning-"
"Stop calling me that!"
"Why do you dislike your given name so? Is it because you feel by openly shunning your father's name is will some how give credibility to your masquerade?"
"Oh, how clever Severus. No I am the one masquerading? And what exactly is it that you are doing when you grovel at my father's feet? Pretending? Gathering information perhaps, for the Order? Where do your loyalties lie, and how can anyone truly determine the answer?"
"That's enough!" Dumbledore's voice rang out through the dungeon classroom, and he looked truly angered for the first time through out the meeting. His steely gaze shifted between Snape and Istelle, who were both standing, having risen from their seats as they had shot insults back and forth. Istelle's fists were clenched and she looked ready to strike Snape.
"I understand that some of us have our differences. But we need to set them aside so we may work together for the greater good." Dumbledore continued, not once rising from his chair but his voice boomed through the room and the two other occupants found themselves returning to their seats without even consciously deciding to. "I obviously didn't stress how important it is that Istelle learn to protect herself from Lucius' prying. Let me clarify. This is a mission, and it is your only assignment until it is completed. If Lucius is able to glean even a fraction of the information Istelle holds, it could be disastrous for us. I will leave you two now, consider this your second meeting. And I hope that you two will make a more promising effort now that I have explained myself to you."
Dumbledore raised from his chair, his face once again a mask of calm patience, but his eyes flashed with slight annoyance as he looked pointedly at them both, his gaze adding more weight to his words. He let himself out of the classroom quietly, and pulled the door shut firmly behind him.
Istelle was the first to move, crossing her ankles together and smoothing her robes over her knees. With a small cough, which one could truly only describe as "dainty", she looked Snape in the eyes and made an odd jerking nod motion with her head that signified she was ready to continue her Occlumency lessons.
"Well, as you have already stated, you were not able to accomplish the task I set for you at the end of our last lesson." Snape said coldly as he rose from his chair, skirting his desk so that he stood before Istelle. She stood, dragging herself up to her full height, which he begrudgingly admitted was impressive, her chin tilted defiantly and a purposeful gleam in her eye.
Their spat seemed to have given her an obsessive determination to prove something to him. He wasn't sure if she wanted him to see that she could indeed master Occlumency, or wanted to prove her overall magical prowess; either way he couldn't help but be curious about what Istelle was capable of when she truly applied herself.
"Well, as I believe I made clear, I am expecting more instruction this time around." She bit back, her eyes narrowing slightly.
"Oh yes, I think I do remember you alluding to that, in between the immature play yard taunts. Somewhere after 'stupid head', but before 'I know you are but what am I?' correct?" Snape pulled his wand from a concealed fold within his robes, twirling it into his grasp with indolent laziness.
"Oh ho, don't act like you just sat there stoically while I berated you. You opened your mouth well enough!" Istelle seemed to be shaking with fury, and Snape sighed with frustration.
"I did not argue with you, I defended myself against your juvenile insults-" Snape held up his hand to silence Istelle, who had made an angry noise, lest she interrupt him. "Miss Malfoy, Occlumency is not just a flimsy incantation, it is the ability to control and protect your own mind. To protect your mind from others, you must be able to empty it of all thought and emotion on command. And in order to do that, you must learn to control your emotions."
Color rose through Istelle's cheeks, making her lookfeverish. She was undeniably aware of her own passionate and fiery nature, but reminding her that such a volatile personality was a hindrance where Occlumency was concerned gave Snape a sadistic sort of pleasure.
Locking onto her eyes, which were dancing with anger, Snape pointed his wand directly at Istelle and was at once within her mind.
Sorting through years of memories and thoughts and feelings, Snape caught glimpses of people and places, heard Istelle's thoughts about the overcast sky and a tacky dress she saw a woman wearing on a bus. Surrounded by an array of uninteresting pieces of information, Snape realized just how mundane Istelle's life in the States had been. She had clearly enjoyed the slow pace, reveling in the pleasant simplicity that a world absent of magic had been.
Delving deeper into her recollections, he moved past the bright cheery memories, where the colors were vibrant and the smiles and laughter abundant, to a place in Istelle's life when she had clearly been unhappy. The pigments were subdued, sepia toned, and everything seemed to be hushed.
As he flitted past drab memories of Malfoy manor, images of Lucius and Narcissa and two blonde hair children, who he surmised were very young versions of Draco and Istelle, appeared here and there. Sadness permeated the memories, a melancholy so deep it seemed tangible. Snape paid no mind to the fact that the images became blurred, the voices seemed far away, until he was staring at Istelle in his dungeon office. She had forced him out, though by her glazed expression she remained within her thoughts, dwelling on her past.
Flicking his wand and muttering again, he tried once more to force himself back into her psyche. But his surroundings did not even waver, and he remained resolutely in his office, and not in Istelle's mind.
Istelle began to shake her head slowly, as if trying to physically dispel her memories. "No, I don't want to remember that." Pressing her hand to her stomach, she took a shuddering breath as her eyes closed slowly.
"How did you do that?" Snape demanded softly, utterly shocked that Istelle had truly protected herself from his penetration. Istelle's eyes snapped open, and her hand flew to her mouth.
"I did it? I didn't just 'expel' you, but I prevented your entrance in the first place?" Running both her hands through her golden hair, a smile slid across her face. Her features were beaming, and the darkness of the previous minutes was forgotten. Snape felt a prickling of annoyance.
"Yes, very well. If I had known your head would swell to such an extent, I would never have allowed you to block my attempts." Turning away, he stowed his wand within his robes, and then made his way back to take his seat behind his desk.
"Oh, dear Severus, don't play like you 'allowed' me to do anything. I bested you, such is life, let us move forward into the future where I shall overcome you many times again." Her face lit up with her signature dazzling smile. Due to the nearly blinding whiteness of her perfect teeth, Snape had come to associate bright lights that shocked your eyes with their suddenness and left patches of black in your vision, with that infuriating smile.
Falling into his chair, he pulled the stack of papers on his desk in front of him, staring down at them unseeing as he held his grading quill aloft, and failing to realize they were the papers he had already graded. He heard rather than saw Istelle plop into the chair in front if his desk, curling his legs under her as she had the first night they had all returned to Hogwarts and she had come to ask him to give her Occlumency lessons.
"Miss-" Snape caught himself, he had no true motivation to tempt her anger, and he was rather enervated and thus not up to another go with her. "Istelle, we are finished for tonight. Practice clearing your mind-"
"Of all thought and emotion, yeah I've got you." Istelle finished for him absently, her eyes focused on something just behind his head. Snape turned his head to study the shelf of vials and decanters, all filled with arcane and alchemical liquids.
"Has something caught your attention?" He questioned, swiveling back around to face Istelle, who seemed to be thinking very hard about something, her cursed brazen smile missing. Something fleeting passed across her eyes, so expressive they seemed to speak more than her mouth, which was indeed a feat in of itself, and then she was staring him in the eyes, her courage clearly bolstered.
"That's unicorn blood, isn't it?" She demanded, her hand rising to point at a curvy glass bottle that contained a shimmering silver liquid, like melted platinum. Snape nodded his head slowly, glancing back at the unicorn blood and again to Istelle's drawn face.
"It is necessary for more...delicate potions." Snape pronounced slowly, weighing each word carefully on his tongue before letting it roll passed his lips and sank into the space between Istelle and him, which had grown into an immeasurable abyss in mere moments.
"Yes, potions I'm sure the Ministry of Magic wouldn't easily approve of, hmm?" She questioned acidly, her voice high and breathy, like she had just run up to the tallest tower in Hogwarts and then back.
"Well, the Ministry also wouldn't have approved of me preparing Wolfsbane in the school, but that didn't seem to ruffle any feathers." Snape bit back, unsure why they had reverted back to their caustic exchanges when he had felt something very near...friendliness, after Istelle had managed to prevent his attempts of penetration.
"And I actually thought..." Istelle let her voice trail away, as her eyes slipped from his and she retreated into her mind.
"Thought what, exactly?" Snape prompted, his voice quiet from rage. Rage at Istelle for being so fussy about less than half a liter that had lasted him years, and would quite possibly last him his whole life. No, he could not guarantee that the unicorn the blood had been retrieved from had died of natural causes, as this was rare practice for fear that a sickness or infection could reach the bloodstream and cause impurities in the blood. And, once again, no, he could not deny that he had asked, had even thought of asking, or would have cared to ask. Sure, he felt a slight pang that he held proof that such a noble and magnificent animal was dead, but not the sort of gut wrenching guilt that would have made him turn his head away in disgust at the thought of a vial being a staple in his office.
Istelle did not reply to him, just shook her head mutely, and then stood, making her way to the door. As her hand wrapped around the doorknob, she paused, raising her head, but not looking back at him.
"I thought I was wrong, so many others were wrong. And that you truly deserved my respect." The words left her mouth in a rush, as if she had to get it out before she thought better of it. And then she was gone, flying out the door with the flash of her green robes and blonde hair, leaving in her wake a scent of tropical flowers and exotic fruits.
t you truly deserved my respect." The words left her mouth in a rush, as if she had to get it out before she thought better of it. And then she was gone, flying out the door with the flash of her green robes and blonde hair, leaving in her wake a scent of tropical flowers and exotic fruits.