To Angelkitty77- I'm sorry to hear about your poor feather duster, may it rest in peace. I have been bludgeoned with a pillow, and will now work on the next chapter.
To Amarin Rose- (takes aspirin and endures feather dusting) I'm glad you enjoyed the chapter. And as soon as I figure out what Operation: Meteor was, I'll be sure and tell you. I have an inkling of an idea, but it needs building.
To Kira May Maxwell- I'll try, but I can't promise speedy updates. My writing has no real rhythm to it; I write when I'm inspired and break the wall with my head when I'm not.
To Omnicat- The rushing is just an indication of how impatient I was when I first started writing this story. Then again, I don't have the discipline to write out events the way the book is written at all. It would take me well over a year to do that! I'm from America; more specifically, I grew up mostly in New York. We do everything fast there.
"Headmaster!" Severus exclaimed, bursting through the door of Dumbledore's office. "Headmaster, I must speak with you!"
"Ah, Severus, how good to see you." Dumbledore said, looking up. "Please, have a seat. Headmaster Kushrenada and I were just discussing you."
Headmaster Kushrenada was a tall, distinguished man with ginger hair and crystal blue eyes, and Severus couldn't believe he'd overlooked him.
"So this is the infamous Professor Snape!" Kushrenada exclaimed, jumping to his feet and pumping Severus's hand. "I can't tell you how delighted I am to finally meet you. I hear you've been taking very good care of my pride and joy?"
Snape cast an inquiring look at Dumbledore, who smiled.
"Young Mister Barton, your star pupil." The Headmaster explained helpfully.
"Ah, yes, Mr. Barton. He is indeed a remarkable student. The best I've had in all my years of teaching. He has a head for Potions."
"Always has." Kushrenada agreed, grinning. "That boy can make just about any potion you could name, and probably a few you can't. He so far surpassed our own Potions master that we all but had to send him elsewhere to learn." The ginger-haired man cocked his head slightly, as if listening to something only he could hear, then sighed. "And on that note, I must leave you. It was a pleasure meeting you, Professor; I hope we can talk more at a later date."
And he was gone, leaving not even the echoing crack of Appiration behind.
"Headmaster Kushrenada makes for interesting teatime conversation." Albus commented, motioning for Snape to seat himself. "Now, what matter did you wish to speak with me about?"
Duo stared at the ceiling of his dorm room for a long time after the lights went out. He was prone to insomnia whenever he had a lot to think about, so he wasn't surprised to find himself still awake well past midnight.
:Child, you should rest.: A slightly exasperated voice scolded him, and he smiled. Kero was probably tucked safely away at the foot of Heero's bed, propped up on a pillow against the footrest.
:Sorry, Kero; I've got a lot on my mind.: Deciding sharing was better than letting it fester, he opened up to her and showed her what was worrying him- the fight with Draco Malfoy, although calling it a fight was a bit off. More like premeditated ass-kicking. :I can't help but think that's gonna come back and bit me in the ass.: He confessed. :I really don't want to disappoint Sister Helen after she tried so hard to get Father Maxwell to let me come here, but I seem to be screwing up no matter what I do.:
:Should repercussions befall you for that incident, I will step forward in your defense. Let them try and shake off my testimony, when the Japanese government in its entirety is behind me. Now sleep, child, before I go over there and make you sleep.:
Duo smiled despite himself and sent her a wordless ascension, closing his eyes against the dark night.
In Quatre's mind, the worse thing about his punishment for taking part in Malfoy's beating was the detention.
He didn't mind cleaning, or the damp dungeons, nor that he and Duo served at separate times to make the punishment more severe. In fact, he enjoyed the satisfaction of cleaning the classroom by himself, a fact that would probably give his poor father a fatal heart attack. No, what made the detentions nearly unbearable was Professor Snape.
The man was sour beyond reason, cynical and dead set against enjoyment. From what Quatre could glean, his emotions were as twisted and unreasoning as the serpent that represented his house.
Finally, after four days of being alone in the same room as the Potions master, Quatre couldn't take it anymore.
"Professor," He said quietly, "I need to speak with you."
"I don't believe idle chitchat is part of detention." Snape replied without looking up from his work.
"Professor, please. This is important."
It was the please that decided him, Quatre could tell. He put down his quill and looked up expectantly.
"Professor, I know this is going to sound strange, but I'm going to have to ask you to leave the room."
"Detentions are supervised, Mr. Winner. If that's all you have to say, then I believe we are finished here."
"Professor, I don't think you understand; if you don't leave the room, you will literally drive me insane." Quatre sighed at the skeptic look the teacher shot him and elaborated. "I'll assume you know that there are several types of wandless magic aside from potions and divination. One of those types is Empathy, the ability to sense the emotions of others. Empathy is my primary gift, and your emotions are not pleasant, Professor. If you and I stay in the same room for very much longer, one of two things will happen- either I'll go mad and attempt to kill you, or I will subconsciously use projective Empathy to alter your emotions. Either outcome could turn out very painful for the both of us."
Snape was quiet for a moment, and Quatre thought he might have gotten through. Then the Professor smiled, and his growing hope collapsed in on itself.
"If my emotions are so very poisonous to you, boy, it is indeed a wonder you have survived so long in my class. Or could it be that this empathy of yours is a recent development? Perhaps-"
"Professor, please!" Quatre, who had never been ashamed of displaying his emotions openly, wasn't surprised that he'd started crying. "Please. Just…. Don't say anything else. It's bad enough to feel it; I don't need to hear what you think of me as well. I have to go. Have a good evening, Professor."
Severus stayed at his desk long after Winner had left. The boy had given him something to think about, whether he knew it or not.
Numerous students in the past had pleaded to Empathy in an attempt to skip detentions with him, but they'd all been lacking in one thing- proof. Not that tears would normally be conclusive proof, but they made a solid foundation on which to pile other evidence- the careful management of the other Hufflepuffs and no few Ravenclaws to save his fellow students from the Potions master's wrath; the alternating challenge, submission, and neutrality depending on Snape's own mood and attitude; the avoided fights; the predictions of crying fits and subsequent support; the intervention in more than one brewing fight before the signs were obvious. The list went on. And if Winner truly was an Empath-
Then I've no idea how he survived so long with his sanity intact. He sighed and pushed himself to his feet, debating whether it would be wise to seek Winner out or if he should wait until the blond's Potions lesson the next day. Either way had the potential for disaster, but in the end he settled for the latter course of action and went to his rooms, even more unsettled than usual.
This was not his week.
It was the day after Halloween when Lucius Malfoy descended on Hogwarts, bent on exacting revenge for the beating his son had suffered.
Duo and Quatre were called to the Headmaster's office – Duo from Potions, Quatre from Defense Against the Dark Arts – as was Draco. The three students spent an uncomfortably tense moment in the corridor before being admitted.
Dumbledore introduced his distinguished guest, and was a bit surprised to discover that Lucius and Quatre had already known each other for years, nor was he the only one.
"It must be interesting, the tale of how you two came to meet." Dumbledore remarked somewhat wistfully. "England and Arabia have never been close, I fear, and considering young Quatre's father, a casual run-in doesn't seem very likely."
"Stop stalling, Albus." Lucius snapped. "I want these… these… vagrants punished for what they did!"
"We already are being punished!" Duo protested. "And it's his fault, anyway! If he hadn't-"
Quatre placed a hand on Duo's shoulder, and the brunette subsided, leaving Quatre to try his hand at diplomacy.
"Mr. Malfoy, as Duo said, we have already been assigned appropriate punishments. There is no need for further recriminations. Any punishment given now would be overkill- beyond the crime. Such actions would be very damaging to the reputation of Hogwarts; possibly fatally so. Don't you agree that the school and only the school should handle this matter?"
"No, Mr. Winner, I do not!" Lucius huffed indignantly. "The school has been far too lenient! My family's honor is in question because of this… this…"
"You might be surprised to learn that the attack was not unwarranted." Quatre spoke up, his voice hard as steel. "Your family's honor would not be in question if your son hadn't verbally attacked two late members of the American Wizarding Counsel. The fault is not entirely Draco Malfoy's, but it is partially so. Look to your own before you seek to find faults in others, Mr. Malfoy."
"Watch your tone with me, boy, or I'll-"
"That is enough, Lucius." Dumbledore said quietly, effectively putting an end to the brewing fight. "Punishments have been awarded, and your grievance has been settled. Now, these boys need to return to class, and I'm sure you have pressing matters elsewhere."
I'm sick. And I lack internet access.
Sorry this update took so long. See previous line for my excuses.
Review.
