Hello friends!
I'm having struggles adjusting to my new schedule and thats why postings are off :( My first two weeks of school have already has presentations, why? T_T I cry. And then I have MAJORR senioritis, WAAH. I need to pull out some motivation here asap. I live in the US so my university was online for the last year, but we recently went back in-person. It's a bit of an adjustment thats for sure, I HAVE TO GET DRESSED THESE DAYS...so rude.
Anyway this weekend I'll devote some time to fleshing out somethings I'm doing this year and get writing, so please forgivee me! My brainpower is back and I shall deliver.
Thanks for being such great readers and to those of you who like to chat with me, I love our interactions. I really hope ya'll have a great week/weekend!
The last bits of lingering warm weather and sunshine were quickly fading by the time the second week of the term arrived. The weekend had been a dismal affair of Penny doing her homework while forcing Harry to do his. Between detentions and being irresponsible, he was absurdly behind on all of it. Just looking at his pile made Penny tired, but she refrained from doing the work for him, a disapproving Hermione adamant the lesson would benefit him more.
Penny only barely managed to survive the displeasure of Angelina Johnson when she did not show up for tryouts. A great number of people, including Hannah Abbot and Ernie McMillion hailed Penny down, eager to know why she hadn't tried out. Neither they nor Angelina had accepted the excuse about her health, and Angelina continued to badger her until Professor McGonagall finally intervened on Penny's behalf. The entire situation made Penny feel extremely awkward around Ron, who had tried out and was selected. It was obvious he was starting to feel as though he was just second best, which did not help his already abysmal confidence.
Wanting nothing to do with the entire situation, Penny avoided the Gryffindor common room for the entire week and left Harry to deal with Ron and Angelina. Being sick of books, Penny spent most of her free time in Professor McGonagall's classroom, whom she'd asked permission to practice her vanishing spells. Her head of house seemed satisfied with Penny's will not to give up, even if it had not turned into much progress in class. She'd even gone so far as to give Penny an extension on her test that week, which Penny would do on Saturday, giving her two extra days to practice.
Feeling afraid for the first time in her life that she would receive a failing grade, Penny was spending all of her Friday afternoon in the classroom, exhausting herself from her fruitless efforts.
But after hours with no success, she decided on a break. Lighting the lanterns in the classroom first, she plopped backwards, laying herself down on the cold desk, her legs dangling over the side. She banged her head up and down in frustration, letting out an anguished yell.
"I hate you, you stupid wand! A lot of good you do for me!" Penny said, sitting up and lobbing it toward the front of the classroom.
Penny did not bother to watch its progression, staring out the dimming window instead. But when she did not hear it clatter to the floor when she expected it would, she turned, curious to figure out where it had gone.
Watching her with her wand clutched in his left hand was Severus Snape, his wand in his other. His foot tapped impatiently as his brows disappeared into his hairline.
"Just to be clear, I wasn't throwing that at you," Penny said.
"Your wand, Ms. Potter, does little for you on the floor," he replied, weaving through desks to make his way to her.
"That wand refuses to do anything for me," Penny said, turning away in irritation.
"And what is it you are trying to get it to do?" he said, stopping right in front of her so she could not avoid his gaze.
"Vanish this," Penny fumed, picking up her squealing mouse by the end of its tail.
He considered it for a moment, then waved her wand wordlessly. It was odd, holding a squirming creature Penny could not see.
"It appears the problem isn't the tool but the user," Snape said with a smirk.
"Isn't there some etiquette that says it is rude to use another person's wand," Penny said, darkly, dropping the invisible mouse back into the box.
"Your sulking only serves to solidify the point, accept the teaching moment."
"And what teaching moment is that?"
"Not everything will be handed to you."
His words grated at her already bad mood, of course he'd chalk her struggle up to being lazy.
"McGonagall can attest to my own willingness to work hard, thank you. It is evidently my wand that refuses to do what it should. But if you do not believe me, let me try your wand and we can settle this," Penny challenged, giving the man a hard stare.
"I do not share."
"A convenient way of saying you are afraid of being incorrect,," Penny said, extending her hand, waiting for the wand. "I mean if you are so confident it's a user error, then there is nothing to worry about. I promise not to do anything untoward."
"A wizards' wand is an extension of the self, I would not entrust you with my dinner much-less my wand," Snape said, delicately.
"But you can use mine without permission?"
"I am the Professor, I can do whatever I want." The corners of his thin lips upturned in a cruel smile as he watched her struggle with her anger. She opted not to retaliate and chose to snatch her own wand back from him instead.
"Well, Professor, how about you do the job you are required to perform to have that title and help me figure out what I'm doing wrong," Penny said through gritted teeth, tossing her legs over the side of the table and hopping down.
"Perfect Penny no longer so perfect anymore?" he mused, surveying her with his dark eyes. "How curious. . .Do explain" he said, resting himself against the table just across from Penny and crossing his arms.
"That bloody Imposter-Moody told me I needed to stop relying on my expression and learn to use a wand since apparently I never actually used it. . ." Penny trailed off, feeling his gaze on the back of her neck when she turned away from him to watch the mice scurrying in their box.
"Then use your expression in class and practice in your free time. Problem solved," he said sardonically.
"No, I'm a wizard and will use my wand like any normal wizard does."
"Witch," he corrected.
"Hagrid told me I was a wizard when he delivered my Hogwarts letter," Penny countered.
"What that oaf said doesn't change reality."
"My reality is whatever I want it to be, and I prefer wizard. Witch just makes me think of all those horrible muggle stories," said Penny, rounding on Snape, who apparently did not care if she saw his eye roll.
"As fascinating as your delusion is, what you label yourself does not solve your problem which appears to me to be a poorly disguised attempt at attention seeking."
"Aren't you bored of that line yet? I know I am."
Turning her back on him, Penny picked up a new mouse and began her attempts again, but after her third try, Snape was beside her, his shoulder pressed against her and her wand again in his clutches.
"Excuse me! That's mine," she said, incredulously.
Her indignation faltered slightly when she met his probing gaze, the dangerous one he used when he was searching for wrong doing and intended to punish it.
"Perform the spell again," he said, softly.
Penny reached for her wand, pretending not to understand his instruction, but he kept it just out of her reach. He was over a head taller than her and Penny knew even on her tiptoes it was futile to reach for it, but she tried anyway, on principle.
"That's mine," she grunted as she tried to wrestle his arm towards her.
"I won't ask you again," he said, his right hand grabbing her wrist sharply and forcing her attention back to the mouse trying to make its great escape before them.
"No," she said, quietly, staring at the squealing thing he set before her.
"Why not?" His voice was quiet, but she did not miss the inflection that indicated his patience was wearing thin.
"Well you see, at Hogwarts, wizards require these things called wands to perform magic," Penny said, sarcastically.
"I would advise you to remember with whom it is you're speaking. Now Potter, I'll give you one more opportunity to explain to me why you refuse to use your expression."
Silence blared in Penny's ears. She knew he was not going to let her avoid the subject, but that did not make it any easier to find the words to describe her feelings to the snarky man before her. He would likely ridicule her for them, and belittle her struggle, making her feel stupid for being stubborn over something like this, but she would not go down without her dignity and opted to make him work for the information.
"Ask nicely and I'll tell you." She crossed her arms as though that would add any more credibility to her demand.
"What?"
"You heard me. Seeing as you're not three, I assume you know how to ask nicely."
"Whether I know how holds little relevance to whether I am required to."
"Well then I'm not answering, it's personal and I'm not sharing with someone who does not respect my feelings," she said, simply.
Ignoring him, she began putting the mice back into their box and walked him to the front of the room where McGonagall kept the animals. On her tiptoes she tried to push the mice back into their place, but was struggling abysmally, being the short person she was. Snape's dark shadow loomed over her and he pushed the box in place with ease, giving her a smirk as he did so, then he reached for the snails and handed her the box.
"If you cannot vanish a mammal, try an invertebrate first."
She surveyed him suspiciously for a moment, but then he offered her back her wand and she decided to trust him so she marched back to her station. She raised her wand, but Snape stopped her.
"Tell me Potter, when that oaf told you that you were a wizard, did you believe him?"
"I mean, it was a little strange, but yeah," Penny said, looking at him in confusion.
"And why was that?"
"I'd done strange things, or strange things had happened around me. . ."
"You'd used magic before," he corrected.
"Yes."
"And you didn't have a wand?" he pressed.
"Well, yeah."
"Then you'll agree, the wand does not produce the magic, rather, it is a tool to hone it."
She considered him thoughtfully, then looked down at the snail before her.
"Are you saying I'm using the wand wrong?" she asked, running its length between her fingers, feeling its smoothness glide across her skin.
"Must I explain everything, Potter, obviously it's the magic you are using wrong," he said, sounding exasperated.
"Right," Penny said, turning away so he wouldn't see her eye roll.
"What are you afraid of, Potter?"
"I'm not-"
His hand grasped her shoulder and forced her around to face him, the pads of fingers taking up her residence to coax her face gently upward to meet his gaze.
"Prove it," he said quietly, his eyes glinting in challenge.
The jolt of electricity sent Penny's heart thumping, the anxiety in her chest rising as she realized he'd already seen through her, knew what she was hiding. It wasn't something she'd said to anyone, but she felt it keenly in herself, it was something that made her ashamed.
With the rollercoaster of a year, Penny never really had a moment to come to terms with the fact she was different, what that difference meant and how her difference made her uncomfortably similar to a very dark wizard. The power inside Penny, something she once thought made her a part of a community-the wizarding community, hid something dark and sinister beyond its surface.
Her episodes of losing control and then learning what evil people could make her power do, it not only made her hate herself, but it made her afraid of what she was capable of. She did not know how to get a handle on it and therefore was frightened it would continue to spiral out of her control. It made her want to do anything in her power to never use it again and never allow anyone to use it for evil.
"Magic is an extension of yourself, not you it. It obeys you, whether it be an intelligent thought or emotions, the power is in your hands."
Penny heard the words but she could not comprehend them, her lip trembled slightly, making her feel even more ridiculous. Why was this topic making her so absurd? Her helplessness made her angry, made her want to yell and scream.
"And if that part of me is volatile, unfit to be seen?"
"Bravo, Potter, you've finally realized you are as boring and average as everyone else-we are all hiding something. But the point is, a wand is virtually useless if you do not provide the magic."
Taking a steadying breath, Penny turned back to the snail and closed her eyes and focused on the feel of the yew wand clutched in her hand. She tried to imagine the dragon heartstring within, calling out to it, willing it to hear her. From there, she made her way inward, tentatively searching for what used to feel second nature to her. She kicked off the lid she kept it in, feeling it charge through her body and quickly had to reel it in by focusing on the dragon heartstring, begging it to help her. She could have sworn she felt it pang in her hand in response.
Without a conscious thought, she waved the wand, uttered the incantation, the snail gone when her eyes peeked opened to check. Completely shocked, Penny squealed in delight, twirled on her toes and wrapped Snape in an embrace of jubilation.
"It worked, it actually worked!" she exclaimed into his chest.
His frame rippled with stiffness as he registered her. His arms twitched awkwardly at his side, but they made no attempt to return her hug, and after a moment, pried her from him and set her at a good distance from him, his lip curling in displeasure.
"Try to control yourself, Potter, this is a school not a whorehouse," he drawled, straightening out the creases Penny had created in his shirt.
"Hate to break it to you but if I were at a whorehouse, you wouldn't be my first pick. You don't strike me as the adventurous type and I like to be surprised," Penny said with a smirk.
"Is that so?" Snape said. "You'll forgive me for not taking the frigidity insult from the virgin seriously," he smirked back, causing Penny's face to go red with embarrassment and mortification. Of course he'd heard everything she and Malfoy had discussed and deduced enough about it, he was after all Hogwarts most nosey Professor.
Scowling, she flicked her wand at the box and sent it flying back into place, snatched her bag and made for the door.
"Not just yet, Potter."
"What is it?" she said to the door.
"Aren't you going to thank me?"
"If you have ask for a thank you, you clearly don't deserve one."
"Sir," he corrected. "Seeing as you are woefully in need of instruction on manners, I insist you practice," he said, his voice dripping with the glee she knew he got from prolonging her torment.
"Thank you, sir," Penny said, stiffly.
"Uh-uh, Potter," said Snape, stopping her in her tracks as she tried to make another mad dash for the door.
"You need to look at me when you say it, and do try to sound like you mean it."
Closing her eyes and clenching her fists, Penny took a deep breath and turned. "Thank you Lord Severus, lover of thyself and seeker of self-validation through the torment of students because you literally have nothing better to do because you really aren't that interesting. Your sub-par, emotionally incompetent expression and abysmal attempt at guidance has allowed me, the brilliant Penny, to perform exceptional magic. I will remember your sad state of affairs when I make it, and may even repay this gesture of goodwill with something tangible, like a hooker, which you might try investing in, I hear a good nut can help with that surly attitude," Penny said, losing all sense of reason and allowing her snark to take control of her mouth. She knew as soon as they tumbled from her that she would regret it, but she still didn't care.
For a moment, he stared at her in shocked silence, and she basked in the glory of his fury knowing it would be the death of her. Then reality set it and before he could say anything, she turned like the coward she was and ran, managing to slide through the door before he could magic it shut.
"POTTER!" he screamed.
To her horror she realized he was following after her, so she sped up, remembering how with unnatural ability he'd caught her in Little Whinging, so she made several sharp turns, then dove into an open classroom, hoping he had not seen her enter. Trying to silence her panting, she ducked into the corner, squatting down and listening intently.
After several minutes and still no sound, Penny felt it was safe to assume he'd gone in the other direction. Swinging her bag on her shoulder, she rounded the corner, but stopped dead in her tracks, her eyes landing on Snape, who stood ominously, blocking her exit. She could not see his features in the dark, but she felt the wave of cold fury that collided with her like a brick wall.
One step at a time, he moved toward her, Penny scurrying away like a trapped mouse.
"Come here," he whispered.
"I-'I'm sorry, Professor, I-I don't know what came over me, but please-"
"COME HERE!"
Stupidly, Penny did the exact opposite, throwing her bag at him and turning again to bolt into the classroom, pushing a table between them as she went.
"Just calm down and I'll do whatever you want!" Penny stammered.
In the same slow, menacing manner, he made for her, stopping just before the table between them. The silence was deafening, drowning out her thumping heart. He was furious, she knew he was, and when Snape was furious Penny knew better than to be in arms reach.
With a creeping stillness he watched her, his tall frame cast in shadow, and the entire room around them engulfed in darkness except for a small streak of faint moonlight from a flimsy quarter moon. Penny stood frozen like a cat, hoping not to be seen, but in reality Snape was the cat and she his prey. He waited, patiently, lovingly, torturously, for her to break, to so much as twitch. All the while Penny hoped and prayed his anger would soon abate and they could discuss the situation. But the longer he watched her with eyes she could not see the more her heart filled with trepidation.
Finally, he placed both palms squarely on the table and bent toward her, Penny doing her very best not to flinch away.
"Do you imagine yourself above the rules, Potter?" he said, in that soft voice that sent chills up her spine.
"N-no,no, sir.".
"And do you think me stupid?"
"O-of course not. I think you're brilliant albeit kinda terrifying right now."
"DO NOT LIE TO ME," he yelled, spraying her with spit, causing her to jump in fright.
She could make out his features now, every line on his face harsher. She saw the same look in his eyes he had whenever he looked at Harry, the unmistakable grudge, carried from a life Penny had never lived, given to him by her father, whom she could not even remember. He was not looking at Penny, he saw something else entirely removed from her, something that ran so deep into himself that Penny did not understand, but could only describe its outward expression as that of loathing. There was bitter resentment on his lips and a lonely stiffness in his shoulders.
It confused and concerned Penny, who was so used to her composed Professor. She was accustomed to his occasional deranged breaks, everyone had their breaking point. But never before had she looked at him-really looked at him during those moments, she was usually too busy stoking her indignation. But looking at him now, she saw he was trapped in a cavern of anger and hatred and it did not seem to worry him in the least. While being completely overcome by his emotions he was still the master of them, like this darkness within him was as natural as teaching them everyday.
"I wasn't lying," Penny said, surprised by how steady her voice was. "You pissed me off and I regret letting my tongue slip, but I've only ever admired you. I you haven't realized that yet, then perhaps you are stupid."
"Do not presume to speak to me like we are equals, Potter," he hissed, evidently unimpressed with her admission. "Your father believed he was above authority too, but you will learn, no matter what that inflated ego of yours says, you are not special, Potter. No, you are plain, sub-par and arrogant!" With a flick of his wand, the table zoomed to the opposite side of the room, leaving Penny exposed.
Snape straightened up, savoring the moment of squirming before he struck, but Penny refused to give him that satisfaction. Channeling her rage, she squared her shoulders and remained where she was. His words were painful but she deserved them after allowing her own calloused tongue to start this feud.
Irritated by her lack of response, he bridged the distance between them and grabbed her by the neck of her robes and began dragging her into the dark hallway.
"I wasn't going to run away, just let go," Penny half choked, her cloak digging into her throat.
"If you-" Snape began but a piercing "hem, hem," stopped him in his tracks, the clicking of heel'd shoes following the noise.
Out of the shadows appeared the squat Professor Umbridge, who surveyed the scene before her with interest. "Ah, Professor Snape," she smiled.
"Umbridge," Snape replied, stiffly.
"Oh dear, are you alright, Penny?" Umbridge asked in a simpering voice that was more terrifying than Snape.
"She's fine," Snape answered.
Penny gave a cough as she tried to get two fingers between her robe and neck, but it seemed Snape's hold on her had only tightened, making it impossible for her to respond even if she'd wanted to. She considered kicking her Professor in hopes of alerting him to the absurd scene Professor Umbridge was looking at, big given his already deranged state, she figured that would only make matters worse.
Umbridge let out a light laugh that was horribly reminiscent of the tingling of China while covering her mouth in a girlish manner. "You must be confused, Professor Snape, I asked Penny and I would prefer if it were she who spoke for herself."
"You seem to have confused me with someone who cares what you want. Alas, I do not and will be getting back to disciplining my student."
"No, I don't think you will," Umbridge said, extending her arm to stop him before he made it past her.
"Excuse me?" he said, his voice barely audible.
"You'll understand why I need to take Penny here, for her wellbeing."
"Seeing as I am also a Professor at this school and you do not have the authority to undermine my teaching decisions, I don't."
"Oh! But I do have the authority. Perhaps you missed it, but the Minister has seen fit to make me high inquisitor with the power to evaluate my colleagues to ensure things are done properly here at Hogwarts. If you decide to persist in taking Penny, I will be forced to note a very questionable interest you seem to have in the girl."
The air between them stiffened, large pale eyes meeting narrowed dark ones, the electricity between them burning Penny where she still floundered. Then with an exaggerated motion, Snape released Penny and whisked off down the hall without another word.
"Professor Umbridge, please Professor Snape wasn't-" Penny panted, straightening herself up, but Umbridge silenced her with a hand.
"It'll all be taken care of, the Minister will make certain of that. We can't have our prize coming to any harm, can we? No, no, so fret not, Professor Snape will not bother you anymore," Professor Umbridge said in a voice one might use when speaking affectionately to a toddler, but the words that spewed from her mouth made Penny feel sick and like she was nothing more than an object. It made her want to yell at the evil woman before her, but the fear she felt overwhelmed her and she kept silent.
Assuming Penny's silence was affirmation of whatever scenario she'd concocted in her head, Umbridge placed a hand on Penny's shoulder and began guiding her down the hallway. "Now, as much as I'd rather not do this, I cannot be seen to have favorites and you are out of your common room past curfew, so you will have detention with me, Monday night."
The fat fingers squeezing Penny's shoulder made her skin crawl, but she resisted the urge to rip herself away. The energy coming from Umbridge turned Penny's cells inside out. There was something very wrong about this woman, but she could not discern what. She was not evil in the sense that Amycus was, this was something else entirely. But there was no doubt in Penny's mind, behind that composure of hers was a sinister wickedness, one that glinted from behind her ugly features and looked upon Penny as though she were something to be placed on a skewer for her to eat.
As soon as she could manage, Penny escaped her presence and made for her bed, avoiding everyone as she went. She tore off her defiled clothing and put on her pajamas and sat in the darkness of her bed, her hanging pulled around her so no one would bother her.
Whatever detention with Umbridge had in store, Penny was certain it would be awful. But more pressing than that was the anger of her Potions Master. Needless to say, Penny was used to arguments with Snape, especially when she triggered his James nerve. But they had not been able to resolve their fight, which Penny knew would linger between them come Monday. Even more worrying was Umbridge's threat to Snape.
Penny had seen Educational Degree Number 23 hanging in the Entrance hall and how it appointed Professor Umbridge to High Inquisitor, but she had not processed how her presence was going to dramatically change things. If the wicked woman was keeping a close eye on Penny, and had the ability to determine who would stay and leave Hogwarts, would the time she spent with Snape would need to change? He certainly seemed to take her seriously, and Snape did not lightly bend to the will of others.
Feeling her agonizing was not doing herself any good, Penny decided she would apologize to Snape first thing in the morning, and then perhaps the two of them could discuss what to do next-assuming Snape would speak to her.