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Blackbird Fly
Five
The wall that led to the Slytherin common room opened once Snape had given the password, Hermione trailing behind him and looking slightly uncomfortable; she would forever prefer the warmth of the reds and golds of the Gryffindor common room. Slytherin's common room was dungeon-esque, but hedonistic in its opulence and indulgence. Velvet chaises and armchairs were scattered around the room in panoply of green and silver fabrics. A few windows had been illusioned on the walls, adding to the beauty of the room; the curtains lining them were grey velvet with black cords and their window seats were huge and soft. There was a huge marble fireplace in one corner and a cluster of ebony tables and chairs in another. It was, in short, a great green-and-silver paradise, but Hermione still longed for the down-home feel of Gryffindor; the ache spanning the twenty years between her present and the past that was yet to come.
"The tunnel on the left leads to the girls' rooms. You'll have your own; it's one of the benefits to being a Slytherin. We need our privacy here—I'm sure you understand."
She nodded, pleased. Lavender and Parvati had never been the best of roommates, and having her own room also meant that she could hang up pictures of the Hogwarts she knew—the one Severus and Isolde could not see yet. "How will I know which one is mine?"
"There should be a sign on your door. I'll show you." With that, Severus grasped her hand to lead her down the winding tunnels of the Slytherin dungeons. It was a daring move for the calculating young man; he rarely did anything without analyzing the possible consequences beforehand. He was more than surprised when she entwined their fingers, locking their hands together as he'd seen lovers do. That set the wheels in his mind turning: did she see him as more than a friend, or was it just a twitch or an instinct? If there was ever a word to describe Severus Snape, it would be over-thinker.
Severus took a moment to get a glimpse of their hands twined together as he led her to her dorm room. His hand dwarfed hers, the long fingers embracing her tapered ones. Slyly, he began caressing her thumb with his; subtle, but not too subtle. He figured that if his attentions were rebuffed, it would be easy to pass off the gesture as subconscious or the like.
They stopped in front of a door near the end of the tunnel; she obviously had to have her dormitory added on. There was a slate charmed to the front of the door, announcing to Slytherin girls that this was Helene Fermier's room. He stood aside to allow her to open the door, as he knew he would be barred from entry unless she led the way. Hermione turned the knob gently, almost expecting it to shout, "GRYFFINDOR!" at her, though it didn't, of course.
It was sparse—just a basic bed, a small closet, a chest of drawers and a desk and chair; Hermione began scheming to create a Gryffindor haven in this Slytherin pit. She frowned, not seeing a trunk anywhere in the room and panicking that she would have nothing to wear aside from the clothes on her back. Deciding to inspect the closet first, she was pleased to see a variety of Muggle and Wizarding clothes in various styles and colors, and it was certainly intriguing; there would, however, be time to investigate later. Assuming she would find the same in the chest of drawers, she turned back to Severus.
"I'll worry about everything else later. Let's go back to the common room."
There was a large cluster of Slytherins piled into the chairs around the fireplace in the common room when they returned. They waved Snape over while glaring at Hermione, ever suspicious of a newcomer, especially one who claimed to be a transfer student. The first to speak was a tall, tan boy with short dark hair and blue eyes. He had a jovial sounding voice, but there was a wariness in his eyes, some forbidding caution that was hidden in every word.
"Severus, come and join us. Bring your friend, Helene, wasn't it?"
Hermione nodded, trying to memorize each face. There was a thin blonde girl she assumed to be Narcissa Malfoy (though Hermione supposed she was still a Black now), a younger boy who could only be Sirius's little brother, Regulus, and her own personal demon, Dolohov was there, his beady eyes raking up and down her body. She glared at him fiercely, only to be rewarded with a lascivious smile. Turning her attention to the rest of the cluster, she saw very few familiar faces and wondered how many of them would live to see the second war.
A dark haired girl strode over. Bellatrix, Hermione thought savagely. "Severus," she purred, "have you given anymore thought to our little offer?"
Hermione stifled a gasp, certain that she knew precisely what they were talking about. They had already asked him to become a Death Eater! She had to get out of here, now—Death Eaters and time travelling members of the second Order of the Phoenix: bad idea. She went over to where Severus was sitting with Bellatrix and the boy, a grimace marring her normally bubbly features. Leaning over, she whispered in his ear, "Severus, I'm going to go to the library. Meet me there when you're done if you like."
Severus nodded and she left; all the better for him, really. He didn't know if he wanted her to know this. "Rabastan, Bellatrix, I honestly haven't thought about it yet. I cannot yet accept this generous offer, though it is my inclination. Please allow me to take some more time in considering this offer, as I only learned of the Dark Lord's interest in me last night." His speech was spoken with the eloquence of a practiced and well-trained liar—a bred Slytherin who knew how to play the game.
"Severus, there should be nothing to think about. Your family honor as a Prince is on the line and you should be proud to receive such an offer. We can make our world the way it was supposed to be!" Bellatrix was perhaps the most zealous of the group, her eyes flashing in her enthusiasm.
Severus shook his head. "I'm sorry, but I cannot give you an answer right now."
He left without waiting for a response, leaving a dangerous thing behind: a group of Slytherins who wouldn't trust him as far as they could throw him—not that they would make such an effort, mind you.
The rest of the classes passed quickly that day. Sirius still watched Isolde as the other Marauders watched him watching her, all of them forming some kind of twisted parade of stalkers and observers. They confronted him later on in the common room at their chosen spot on a window seat by the bay window overlooking the grounds.
"Sirius, what's going on with you and Chase?" James asked sharply. It was unusual for him to take on the role of interrogator or professor—the awful job was usually Remus's. It was a warning sign to Sirius: they meant business this time, and there was no escape until a few questions were answered.
Sirius tried his innocent face, but the others knew him too well to fall for it. When Remus gave him "the look," Sirius began talking.
"I don't know; she's just gotten under my skin. I mean, she's pretty and all, but there's more than that. Girls like that should be popular and have friends but she doesn't. I'm curious, that's all. I mean, really, the girl has a great wand. You saw her this afternoon. I-I want to know her better."
Remus and James shook their heads. The reign of Sirius Black as Hogwarts' unofficial playboy could very well be coming to an end, seeing as how he'd never actually wanted to get to know the girls he dated. While he didn't necessarily date often, he was a ladies' man; girls naturally flocked to him thanks to his aristocratic good looks and natural charisma. His sense of humor and familial connections didn't hurt his chances either. In fact, the only real reason that he was the Marauder Playboy was that James had Lily, Remus wasn't interested in the girls there and Peter was just . . . Peter.
The guys soon learned that once Sirius had gotten to talking and speculating about Isolde Chase, he wasn't inclined to stop. Thankfully, Peter rushed off, saying that he had to go to the library to get a book for his Care of Magical Creatures essay; James and Remus were hot on his tail, following their hang-on for once. Sirius watched his friends run with a brotherly fondness and an extreme longing for things to go back to the way they once were.
The rest of the classes for that day passed quickly, leaving Isolde and Hermione to work on their homework at a large table tucked away in the back of the library. The bookshelves surrounded their little alcove, giving it the air of a secret cavern tucked away in some remote little corner of the world.
"How did you know this was here, Helene?" Isolde asked, once they had begun working.
Hermione flushed. This was her favorite place to work in the future, as there was little chance of being interrupted by anything or anyone, but she shouldn't know about it as a transfer student in 1970 something. "Umm . . . I just found it when I was browsing for books," she lied.
Isolde furrowed her brow, but said nothing. Why was Helene lying to her? It was obvious enough, based on the way her eyes flicked nervously to the left when she said it and the sweat glistening on the palms of her hands.
There was something more to this girl, and she had to figure it out.