Chapter 22 – Slug Club
"Professor, is the dinner a formal affair?" Lizzie asked when their class was leaving the afternoon before the affair.
"Just a bit... I'll have three courses, just want to get to know my students a little better," he smiled. Lizzie nodded apprehensively but returned the friendly grin.
"Do you mind if I use the lab again? I've taken to a peace draft I don't want to keep bothering Poppy for," Lizzie explained sweetly. He nodded and gestured that she was welcome.
Partway into pulling the ingredients she heard him acknowledge someone entering the lab. "Ah, yes, Mr. Malfoy, bit behind on the drafts I requested last week," he said.
"Yes, sir, my apologies, I was going to finish them up now if that's alright," he asked politely, Slughorn nodded.
Draco caught eyes with Lizzie and clenched his jaw when he noticed the only burner available wasn't far from where she was working.
Slughorn was summoned out by Pomphrey asking for access to his storeroom, and they were alone. Lizzie felt a jolt of anger and a little bit of fear, but swallowed it back.
There was silence for several moments. "Falling behind?" Lizzie asked bitterly.
"Shut up, Azalea," he hissed.
"You don't look good, you sleeping?" She asked after another moment.
"What are you getting at?" He sneered.
"Did he do something to you over what happened to your father?" She asked.
He dropped his ingredients, approached her aggressively, and snatched her forearm as she stirred . "Don't you dare bring up my father," he hissed close to her ear. "That's on you," he spat harshly.
"That's on him!" She whispered back disdainfully.
"I know what they did," he retorted abrasively, his other hand ran over her stomach and sent a flinch though her body. "You haven't got a chance," he growled and let go of her with a hard shove. Something about his ice blue eyes looked almost apologetic, then abrasive and determined with a more sinister underbelly, like there were plans. Plans he couldn't decide on. She stared at him reproachfully while he finished his assignments. She couldn't read him at all. Not a thing. Occlumens, she thought. Must by nice to have an intact brain... Snape must be helping, she considered with seething contempt for him.
"Wear a dress," Hermione said, rummaging through her chest closet for one. "This one," she said, setting down a green sleeveless one with white lace at the top.
"Ok..." Lizzie said, agreeing absently, caught up scanning the map for Malfoy, not having been able to take her mind off the exchange.
Lizzie reluctantly put away the map and got ready for Slughorn's dinner. She decided to invest in her own set of makeup because Lavender was starting to get annoyed. She combed her bangs over to the side a little, while Hermione zipped her dress for her, and they left down to the common room where Ron startled at the sight of Hermione for a moment making her flush. Seamus grazed by Lizzie to tell her she looked nice, offering a kiss on the cheek. They had been spending time together but nothing was particularly physical yet. Dean and Ginny were talking quietly in the corner and Ginny waved them off that she would meet up with them in a minute. To Lizzie's surprise, Neville caught up with them looking sharp.
"Slug Club invite?" He asked. The girls nodded and smiled at him. Lizzie rubbed his shoulder knowing he was excited to have been included.
Entering the large office area he had set up for a much more intimate dinner, Lizzie noticed Slughorn with several students already in attendance: Blaise Zabini looked up at her with hooded eyes, Lisa Turpin, Miles Belby, Padma Patil, Theodore Nott, Flora and Hestia Carrow, Terence Higgs, Anthony Goldstein, Cormac McLaggen, and to her dismay, Pansy Parkinson.
Too many Slytherins, Lizzie thought to herself. The three of them sat down as Ginny came in looking distraught. "They keep fighting," Hermione whispered to Lizzie, and she noticed that Neville couldn't take his eyes off her.
"Well, thank you all for joining me tonight!" Slughorn announced with a wide grin. "It is nice to see a lovely group like this outside of the classroom."
Dinner was subsequently served and Lizzie ironed her napkin into her dress with her hands.
"So, I usually like to start these by going around the table and breaking the ice, so to speak," Slughorn said. "We'll start with Mr. Zabini, I'll call you Blaise if you don't mind, can be on a first name basis here... tell us a bit about yourself," he said encouragingly.
Everyone took a turn, awkwardly admitting something about themselves with follow up questions from Slughorn. Many had more to say about their affluent families than they did about themselves, something that always put a bad taste in Lizzie's mouth.
Lizzie chuckled that none of the Slytherins knew what a dentist was when Slughorn asked Hermione about her parents.
"Lizzie, dear, I feel like everyone knows everything about you, but nothing first hand... tell us something we don't know," he said beaming.
Lizzie stared around the table at eyes latched onto her and finished chewing while she thought of something, preferably something light.
"Honestly, I'm not sure anymore what people do and don't know, sir," she admitted.
Pansy opened her mouth to say something but Lizzie cut her off, "least reputable to input I'm afraid would be Pansy Parkinson," and shot Pansy a shady stare.
"Now well, you've just opened yourself up for questions," he laughed.
"Brilliant," Lizzie grumbled sarcastically and set her fork down.
"Why do they call you Lizzie?" He asked.
"My father called me Lizzie," she admitted, thankful it was an easy question.
"Any reason he picked that? From Azalea it's not the first that comes to mind," he asked.
"Sounded most like Lily. I think he wanted an L name but my mother had a thing for flowers. At least that's how Sirius explained it," she answered.
"How close were you to your godfather, if you don't mind me asking?" He asked.
"Very. I mean discounting the years they stole from him in prison... He was the closest thing I had to a father," she explained in a melancholy tone.
"Your uncle was not a father figure? I heard he passed too, my condolences," he asked. Lizzie went a little cold.
"No condolences necessary, I assure you. Special place in hell for his flock," she said bitterly.
"By flock you mean the church? What denomination?" He asked.
"Catholic, Cyprian cultists, I doubt they follow traditional principles," she said.
"You were married at fifteen, is that true?"
"My name was forged on a license by my extremely thoughtful uncle, yes, but there was never a confirmation," she said sarcastically.
"To one of the church members?" He asked.
Lizzie nodded, "mhm. a surgeon - the doctors that cut people open for anyone who doesn't know - he was almost thirty years older. He's dead too, fortunately," she explained. Hermione frowned, unsure if Lizzie ever told her he died.
"How does that all work? Hypothetically speaking if you didn't attend Hogwarts?"Slughorn asked.
Lizzie pushed the food around on her plate for a moment, "...the family structure they insist on is a breadwinner husband in a respected profession - a doctor, lawyer, businessman, banker, and the like, and a wife who stays home. Young boys attend a catholic all boys school, where they're pampered and groomed for university. Young girls are sent to a catholic all girls school where they're groomed essentially to marry... stricter there, heinously so. I got expelled in my sixth year," she explained.
"Why in heavens did you get expelled?" He scoffed. Lizzie stared back contemplating an answer.
"It was intentional..." she said evasively. "The boys graduate and go off to university, get started in their profession and pick a wife from outside the church, usually young, pious, easily manipulated. My aunt for example was my uncle's receptionist at the company he was chairman for. They start a family and the cycle goes on... the young girls however, graduate and marry the single or widowed men in the church. Usually, it's middle aged gentlemen, or older, brought in from these firms and companies and such because they're promised a young bride. School ends at fifteen or sixteen years old, we'd graduate and meet them at the alter. You don't get to choose. Sometimes their dads would pull strings to get their daughter someone decent. I'm nobody's daughter, so dregs... It only took watching one of those ceremonies to decide I wanted out. Bunch of scared girls married to men who were just going to abuse them. Was rare to see any of them live past twenty five," Lizzie explained.
"Why is that?" Slughorn asked, looking distraught by the explanation.
"Suicide, usually. Many offed themselves if they found out they were pregnant... Sometimes there were freak accidents or strange illnesses that arose, almost exclusively from a select few who have a reputation for discarding their wife for a younger one. Can't divorce so...funerals were as common as wedding receptions," Lizzie gestured a knife at her neck. Slughorn looked mortified, flushed, and fascinated at the same time.
"The abuse is rampant, I'm gathering?" he asked.
"Yep, laws of attraction. You get that many dirt bags in a group together...I always found it telling that we were force fed this garbage about burning in hell for all eternity if you kill yourself, and somehow it's all any of us ever thought about doing, because it still beat the alternative… This took a dark turn, I'm sorry. Not a lot of bright or lighthearted moments on this topic," Lizzie said.
"Your reputation is remarkable though, what you've managed to survive is simply unfathomable," he praised.
"Unbearable is a better word, but sure," Lizzie said a little more bitterly than she intended.
"They were adverse to witchcraft I take it? Hence the obscurus? You're the first known to ever survive that," he asked.
"Witchcraft is heresy. But my uncle insisted I wasn't a witch, didn't want that idea in my head. Delusional, possessed, but not a witch. I'm probably all three if we're being frank," Lizzie laughed.
"Rare bird, this one, dark sense of humor," Slughorn said with a smile and a timid laugh.
"What happened there? Your hand too?" He asked indicating her arms. Lizzie usually worse sleeves.
"Um... battle scars… Giving Alastor Moody a run for his money," she said, poking fun, and jabbing at the food in front of her.
"Not to mention the quidditch injuries from what I hear, sure you want back on the pitch?" He laughed.
"I belong on that pitch," she smiled wide, and McLaggen glared.
"Your father was a wonderful seeker too, the recruiters this year will no doubt have an eye on you," he pointed out.
"Remus found me my dad's quidditch sweater a few years back, I've worn it at every game since for that very reason. I'm likely destined for the same fate in not living to play professionally, but it's a nice sentiment," she smiled.
"Remus Lupin? Yes, I do remember him. He and your mother were both prefects together. He, Sirius, and James were all very close..."
"He's the last piece of the family," Lizzie admitted.
"And a werewolf," Pansy choked.
"Very observant, Parkinson, thank you," Lizzie snapped reproachfully. "Do be sure to come by for dinner with us on a full moon."
Slughorn laughed. "Let's be nice, here," he said obligatorily.
Dinner ended after more conversation and desert. The Slytherin students bragged about their families, and Slughorn made his connections. He then asked Neville about the ministry and the room went silent and apprehensive.
"The ministry?" Neville asked.
"Do tell us that story... won't you son?" He asked encouragingly. Neville looked at Lizzie who nodded reluctantly that it was fine.
"We went to get Lizzie," he said, but looked too apprehensive to continue.
"We could be here all night rehashing that," Lizzie interjected. "They saved my life... truly... I'm no hero there...all them," she said looking at Neville with glassy eyes. Hermione squeezed her hand.
"Miss Granger and Miss Weasley too? If I'm not mistaken," Slughorn asked, looking approvingly at the both of them.
"Yes, the moment they figured it where I was they didn't even hesitate," Lizzie said, wiping her eyes quickly with a knuckle.
"You were there for nine days?" He asked.
"Well not at the ministry, but with that charming group of raging sociopaths, yes, nine days…" Lizzie clarified.
"Gryffindors…loyal, resilient, and brave above all, no doubt," he smiled.
Lizzie lingered behind to ask Slughorn about something, knowing better not to trust Snape with the information.
"Lizzie, dear, getting late... you really should be off to bed," he said.
"Sorry, sir, I was just admiring your hourglass," she said, because it was the first thing her eyes caught to use to stall.
"Oh yes, it slows down when conversation is intriguing, speeds up when... well," he explained. Lizzie laughed.
"I won't stay long then, I was hoping you could help me with something," she said.
"Anything, dear," he said but his eyes grew calculating and she sensed some hesitation.
"I need to keep this a secret, McGonagall knows, but it's something I've been trying to accomplish for awhile," she admitted.
"Yes?" He asked a little apprehensively.
"I'm waiting for an electrical storm on an animagus potion," she said. He exhaled a bit of relief.
"Well, dear, as long as it is blood red and you miss no incantations, you should be just fine," he assured with a smile.
"The incantations are making me uneasy though," she said. "I don't hear two heartbeats..."
"Well sometimes you don't until you go to take it..." he explained.
"I hear three," she said shortly. He frowned.
"Pardon? You hear three?" He asked incredulously.
Lizzie nodded. "That's not normal is it?" She asked. He shook his head.
"You should consult with Minerva my dear, I would only be of help on the potion front I'm afraid..." he said. "I would advise not to take it until you know if it's safe though," he insisted.
"Right, of course," Lizzie said. "Well, thank you, I'm going to turn in... lovely dinner, thank you," she smiled.
An image flashed through her mind of Tom Riddle alone with him in the same room asking something. Without a second thought she asked as she reached for her things, "you taught Riddle, didn't you?"
He whipped his head around, Lizzie shook hers regretfully. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean for it to come out like that, sir, I just... you were one of his professors when he was here, weren't you?" She asked.
He nodded, "I was yes..."
"Forgive me for the preoccupation. He murdered my family... he well he cursed and raped me... and he chose me for some reason... so I'm trying to figure out why," she said hoarsely.
Slughorn nodded sympathetically. "Riddle was a fine young man when I knew him, on his way to becoming a first class wizard. He was preoccupied by a great deal of strange things over the years, I noticed... but I did not think he would become what he did..." Slughorn explained.
"Right, I know this is awkward, I'll go. Thank you... professor," she said. Slughorn watched her leave with a chill running down his spine and couldn't place exactly why.