Chapter Four: Yanjing Hei, Linian Hei

"Lili!"

She turned her head back towards the Quidditch pitch.

"Lili!" It was Draco, flying down the pitch sideline to meet her, quite out of breath. His normally clean face was smudged with sweat and dirt, and he still looked a bit off-balance from a number of Bludgers to the head.

"You okay?" She couldn't help but ask. This was only her second Quidditch match, and she had yet to overcome the feeling that it was all horrifically violent.

He ran his fingers through sweat-caked hair. "No, I'm not fine. Can't believe we lost. And to Gryffindor."

"Well, it was a good game anyway."

Draco was clearly unsatisfied. With a slight whoosh he dismounted his broom and, brushing some dirt from his robes, stood tall beside her. "Well, I'm hungry. I think I might run up to the common room and have some of the food Mum sent me." He forced a half smile. "I suppose if you like Toil and Trouble Toffee you could have a bit as well."

Uncomfortable, she nodded. Over the last three weeks, Draco had granted her more and more of his time—even deigning to, occasionally, appear to enjoy her company-- and it was becoming abundantly clear to everyone, including her, that this was more than a casual acquaintanceship. Apparently, Draco didn't really have "friends." Draco was showing some interest in her—and Lili simply didn't know how to respond.

They tromped back towards the castle in silence, Draco pulling at the twig end of his broom carefully and shooting looks across the grounds at Harry Potter and his exultant followers. Lili, following his eyes, met the gleeful forms with some disgust.

Poor Draco. She wished, half-heartedly, that someday he would show Potter up: she thought it might do both boys good.

"You should learn to fly," Draco said at some length, stepping aside to let her descent the final staircase. "I mean, there's really nothing like feeling the broom under you, the air rushing by. Parseltongue."

The large stone in front of the common room rolled away, and they entered, putting distance between each other without even thinking about it. "You'll have to teach me sometime."

"Lili!"

She turned her head again, neck still cricked and tired from her spectating. Watching Quidditch took a bit of energy on her part, and she wasn't sure she could handle whatever intrigue or rumor was being passed around Slytherin now.

"How was the Quidditch game?" From the look of it, Dia had been working on their potions essay. She had ink stains all the way up her paper-white arms.

Lili hurriedly answered for Draco. "Oh, it was a good game. We were way ahead in points till Potter practically tripped over the Snitch. We would have won except for Potter's –" she paused and glanced at Malfoy's disdainful face. "Potter's dumb luck."

Dia was clearly disinterested. She was one of the only Slytherins who didn't attend the Quidditch matches and found the sport, in her own words, "dreadfully dull."

"I see, well, that's too bad. I just wanted to tell you, Lili, you've got a package."

"A package?"

"Yeah. I think it's from your Dad. It's postmarked from Edinburgh."

Her heart skipped a beat. A package from her father? She hadn't heard anything from him since the last owl he'd sent her telling her she wouldn't be welcome home for Christmas.

Draco met her eyes and took at deep breath as if exasperated. "I'll try and save you a bit of toffee. Go have a look."

Barely listening, she dashed up to the girl's dormitory. Inside the room, Artibius squealed and fluttered down from the rafters and onto her shoulder.

"What is it, Artibius?" she asked, drawing back the curtain to find a tall, flat package wrapped in brown paper, a letter attached to it with a thick string.

She barely laid her hand on the letter before noticing that it was wrinkled about the edges. Apparently, she thought with a sigh, Dia had more proof than the postmark that the package was from her father. No secrets in Slytherin, she reminded herself, sitting down on her bed's edge and unfolding the letter with shaking hands.

Elizabeth,

I found this in a closet. I think it must have gotten lost in the luggage and was put away by mistake. He was making quite a bit of noise, and I believe he belongs to you.

Edward R. Lee

Her eyes could only bring up the stinging reminder of tears—nothing more. What had she expected? Some token of reconciliation? It was a foolish thought. She felt the familiar Slytherin stoniness take hold, as she glanced over the stern letter only once more before tossing it aside.

"Mmmmmf!"

The package was protesting loudly, and Lili pulled at the string and brown paper, Artibius clicking wildly from the end of the bed.

"Hui! Ah! I thought Dad left you back at Zhong Mo Xue!"

The painted man, simple black brush work on rice paper, stretched and yawned elaborately, hitting his bald head on the calligraphy above him. "Ouch!"

"Hui…I can't believe it's you."

"Yes, well, believe it," the short, thin man said in rapid Chinese, rubbing his head ruefully and looking up at her through thin black eyes. "I've been stuck in that closet for almost a month, do you know that?"

"I'm sorry," she said, hanging him lightly on the wall beside her bed. "I didn't know you were there. I was sure Dad would have left you at school."

The floor boards creaked.

"What is that, and what are you saying to it?" Millicent's face was turned up in a horrible grimace.

"Ahh…" the man in the painting said, smoothing his robes and tugging his beard. "Who might this lovely young lady be?" He spoke now in crisp, eloquent English.

Lili grinned, watching Millicent turn from bristling to some attempt at effeminate. "This is my…friend, Millicent Bulstrode. She's one of my roommates."

"I see. Well, it is indeed an honor to meet you, Miss Bulstrode. My name is Hui-neng, sixth patriarch of Buddhism."

Millicent grinned. "I like this guy, Lee. He's not nearly as annoying as that rat of yours." She shot Artibius a poison look and received a hiss in response.

"Everyone's going to dinner now. You coming?"

"I'll be up soon."

As soon as the door slammed, Hui-neng shuddered. "What a gargoyle," he said, bending down in the lotus position beneath a tall, thinly-stroked bamboo. "She's your roommate?"

"Yes. But she's about as bad as they get. My other roommates are alright. You should meet Dia later: she's nice."

"And how are you doing, xiao nu?"

She leaned back against one of the bed posts, taking the thin bed curtains in her hands, fidgeting without realizing it. "Pretty well, actually. There was a bit of an upset there at the start. I didn't get sorted as everyone expected."

"Yes, I heard. I may have been locked away in a closet, but I heard. Hard to miss as much cursing as your father did, even behind solid oak."

"No, he wasn't too happy." She eyed the letter on the floor for only a second. "But I've been doing fairly well. I don't think being Slytherin is half as bad as most people say."

"You're making friends then?"

"Yes. Dia is a good friend. And Millicent can be okay, well, at least tolerable sometimes." She listed a few more names, Hui listened, contented, and Lili was overwhelmed with a feeling of calm, as if things were finally going back to the way they had been.

As she was discussing a Slytherin third year she was helping with Arithmancy, Artibius gave a loud squeal.

"Ah, you're not telling me something," Hui scolded, raising a thin, inky eyebrow.

She shot Artibius a scowl. "Well, there is a--but…I just—"

The old man crossed his arms.

"His name's Draco Malfoy."

"His? I see."

"No, no. That's why I didn't mention it. He's just a friend, that's all. I mean, maybe he wants to be more than that, but I'm not interested."

Hui-neng sat in silence for a moment.

"What?" She wrung the bed curtain more furiously.

"How are you classes?"

She leaned back, refusing to rise to the bait. "They're alright. It's nothing like Zhong Mo Xue, that's for sure. I've already learned most of this, either in class or in private study. Transfiguration is a little difficult –and, oh, I'm having trouble in Runes. We never had that."

Hui-neng nodded. "Any good teachers?"

"My Charms professor is interesting. And my Arithmancy professor is quite good."

Artibius squealed again.

I've really got to bribe that bat into shutting up sometimes. "And then there's my Potions professor, Professor Snape."

"What's wrong? Potions is usually your favorite." Hui-neng pulled something from inside his robes and munched.

"Oh, no, I like Potions still. And he's an excellent professor, it's just—well, I don't know."

"Is he unpleasant?"

She grinned. "Well, I suppose that depends on who you ask. I mean, he's quite strict. And he can be very, very unfair. Especially to the Gryffindors." She considered what Harry Potter might say if asked the same question. "But, he's been fine with me. In fact, he's been downright cordial by comparison to how he treats others."

Hui-neng nodded, swallowing and stretching his legs out across the black ink grass. "Then what is it?"

"Well, it's just that—he seems to behave a little oddly around me."

He popped a small water-gray fruit in his mouth. "Explain."

Uncertain, she sat up and leaned towards the painting, looking for the right way to describe the strange downturn of Snape's lips. "Every time he sees me, it's as if he's thinking about something else. He's got this look—it's totally unreadable. But sometimes, when he looks at me, it slips. I don't think he knows it does, but it does. And when it does, well, he's not looking at me…that doesn't make any sense, does it?"

Hui-neng considered this a moment before shaking his head. "No, I think I understand. It's as if he's feeling something about you."

"Yes, maybe. It's a feeling. Almost a sadness, but then, I don't know. Sometimes he seems quite pleased or happy with me."

The old man shifted his robes a little and shooed a small fly that buzzed by. "Well, you know the old saying: yanjing hei, linian hei."

"Dark eyes, dark past," she whispered to herself. "Yes, I could certainly believe that. He doesn't seem to talk with anyone. He seems like the sort who's—hiding something."

Hui-neng grinned. "There's another saying about that type, you know. 'The man who sits apart is either plotting evil or hiding good.'"

"But which one is it?"

Hui could only shrug. "I suppose you have to find out what that look means. And now, if you'll excuse me, I can't sit around here all day. I'm tired and I still have some meditation to do."

Lili smiled. "Yes, alright. I suppose I'd better go on up and get a bite to eat."

"Xiao nu," he cooed, grinning. "It's good to see you again."

"You too, Hui. I'll talk to you tomorrow I suppose."

But the Patriarch already had both eyes tight shut.

She turned away and met Artibius who was squawking in hunger. "Alright, come on then: let's go get something to eat."

"Oh, Lili, dear?"

She turned back to see Hui-neng, one eye open. "Yes?"

"Could you perhaps move me to that wall?" He gestured to the other side of her bed. "I like to be able to see the sun in the morning."

With a slight chuckle, she moved the painting softly and left Hui to his meditation.

The potion was bubbling a deep blue.

"Don't you think we should add a bit more willow-root?" Harry asked her, pushing his fogged glasses up his nose.

"No, I think it's perfect." She pulled off her dragonhide gloves and laid them carefully on the table beside them. "Didn't you read the text? If you don't have enough willow-root the potion will—"

"Look turquoise, I know," he said, gloomily. He was no happier about being paired with Lili for the last month than she. "Don't you think that's a little lighter than it ought to be was my point…?"

"I think, Mr. Potter, you should listen more closely to Miss Lee on these matters."

The two of them turned to meet Snape's thin, hard lips. He had been watching them closely for the last month, and even Lili was beginning to find this a bit unnerving. "If you had added even a pinch more willow-root…do you know what would have happened, Potter?"

Harry scowled but remained silent.

Snape turned his eyes to Lili.

"The cauldron could have melted."

"Precisely. Five points from Gryffindor." He watched the young man for any sign of reaction, but Harry offered none. "Very well, clean up your things, bottle the potion and you're done."

Harry helped her upturn and clean the cauldron in stony silence.

"Another fun-filled Potions with Potter?" Draco asked, meeting her at the Dungeon door with a wry grin.

She rolled her eyes. She and Draco often traded stories about their Potions partners. Hermione Granger, Draco's partner, was almost as intolerable as Harry, shouting instructions at him and yelping in dismay if he tried to do anything on his own.

"You wouldn't believe that girl," Draco sighed, adjusting the Potions text under his arm. "First she said, 'read the instructions to me.' And then, in the middle of the damn thing she turned to me and, all hot air, says, 'You don't even try to help me, do you?' Insufferable little mu—"

"Miss Lee."

Lili turned. "Yes, Professor?"

"I need to speak with you before you leave." His voice was flat, and he glided back towards his desk in silence, barely acknowledging Draco's presence.

They traded puzzled looks and, shrugging, he said he'd save her a seat in Transfiguration.

Snape waited until all the students had finished and departed before he laid down the parchment he was examining and looked at her across his desk, eyes masked. "Miss Lee. Please have a seat." He reached out and drew a chair to his desk.

She sat, trying not to look nervous.

"Miss Lee," he began, raising himself to his full, spindly height, "it has come to my attention that this class is, well, simply too easy for you."

She swallowed.

"Do you feel unchallenged, Miss Lee?"

"Well, it's always useful to go over the basics, I suppose."

"Ahh, far too diplomatic for someone in Slytherin house, Ms. Lee," he said, but not without a hint of amusement. "You are familiar with the entire syllabus for this year, are you not?"

She nodded.

"Well, do you think it's fair that you put little effort into something that your classmates must work quite hard to master?" He looked at her, eyes twinkling black. Another test.

"Well, sir, if you don't mind me saying so, there's nothing unfair about learning things faster than your peers."

The response seemed to surprise him, and he nodded in silence for a few moments.

She took the opportunity of silent thought to examine him, as Hui had suggested, noting his neatly trimmed fingernails, his thin fingers wrapped around parchment, his ashy lips pushed together in thought. Despite the rather oily nature of his skin and hair, he smelled quite strongly of clean water and oatmeal soap. His eyes were planted firmly on her, examining her as fiercely as she did him.

"Be that as it may, I think I will add a bit of extra work to your experience in my class. I will be certain you have learned something before you leave here."

She nodded again, not knowing what to say.

"Is this acceptable?"

"I wasn't aware it was a suggestion, sir. But, I've never been opposed to learning anything."

He sat down and, abandoning the parchment he'd been holding, steepled his fingers beneath his chin. "The first part of your extra work will be to attend a Dueling Club. Professor Flitwick and I are starting it up again after a disastrous attempt several years ago. I think you might enjoy it, and it might give you a little…practical experience for the future." His eyes met hers.

What she was supposed to make of that, she wasn't certain. "Yes, I was already planning on attending. Professor Flitwick invited me."

Snape considered this, then continued. "Also, I am, at the moment, making a rather large quantity of potions for the Ministry. I have found the demand rather—excessive, at least for only myself. I believe you are one of only two students in this school capable of helping me with potions of this difficulty and not making a complete muddle of the project."

She eyed him, asking the question without opening her mouth.

"The other is, of course, Miss Granger, and, as you might guess from the accounts Mister Malfoy has surely given you…" He smirked. "She is not the most pleasant of partners."

She was at once flattered and intimidated, feeling her palms begin to sweat merely at the proposition. No, don't call it that. At the opportunity. "I'd be glad to give whatever help I can."

"Of course, you will still have to complete the regular course work, so these potions will have to be made after class hours."

"I understand, sir."

He finally turned his eyes from her and stood, turning to flip through some papers on the shelf behind him. "I can give you some leniency on your written assignments, since you're taking on the extra work—"

"That won't be necessary, sir." She was certain this was what he wanted to hear.

"Very well. I expect to see you at the Dueling Club tonight, 7 o'clock."

She stood, relieved, and pushed a stray hair behind her ear.

He looked at her for a moment, and she recognized the slip—the pinprick of something he wasn't walling in...

It was the same feeling she had described to Hui-neng the day before. "Sir?"

He seemed barely aware of his own gaze until she spoke. "Nothing…nothing Miss Lee. Good day."

But she would not turn from him and kept him hard in her sight. Yanjing hei, linian hei, she reminded herself, watching him. "Sir?" she pressed.

Now it was his turn to look discomfited, turning his eyes away, setting the down the files he had removed with an almost threatening force. "Nothing, Miss Lee. You merely reminded me of—someone else." He looked at her blankly, lips hard. The pinprick had been extinguished. "Now, as I said, Miss Lee. Good day."