Reviews are incredibly appreciated, and I will certainly try to answer every one of them, but I can't do that if I don't get any, can I? Besides, I like knowing what is running through your head . . . it gives me more material to work with.
Blackbird Fly
Chapter Seventeen
Severus shook her awake the next morning, waving a warm cinnamon bun under her nose. He smirked as she snatched it and ate greedily before asking the time.
"You have time to change your clothes. That's about it," he said, grinning lasciviously at the thought of seeing her again.
"Get your mind out of the gutter, Sev. As you said, we don't have time," she replied cheekily, wriggling out of her skirt and unbuttoning her shirt at the same time. Before he had a chance to really enjoy the moment, she was dressed and gently tossing books into her bag.
Severus watched fondly before his eye was drawn to the open parchment book on Hermione's desk, his eyebrow quirked and his curiosity piqued by the bubbly cursive spelling out elements. He scanned the page, finding his name quickly, but feeling himself grow pale with fear and disgust when he saw "Constant: Severus Snape initiated as Death Eater."
They made it to DADA with two minutes to spare, much to their surprise, and they took their normal table to the left of Isolde and Sirius in the back. Professor McKinnon swept into the room, wearing a huge hippie-style skirt and flowing, slightly mismatched blouse under tie-dyed robes. Her hair was stringy and she was barefoot and most likely a burnt-out, ex-hippie, ex-addict, but her classes were useful and she could be terrifying when she wanted to be. Rumor had it that she not only dealt to students on the side to supplement her income, but that she was one of the leaders of the army Dumbledore had mustered to fight Grindelwald. Based on her many demonstrations of advanced defensive magic, most were inclined to believe the rumors.
"Good morning, students," she said dreamily, leading Hermione to wonder if she would eventually become Mrs. Lovegood, who she knew had died when Luna was young. "Don't you just love the smell of fresh flowers?" she asked, pausing to admire a plump marigold on her desk. "Ah, well. Today we will be working on a very advanced charm used for defense against a great many of the Dark creatures of the world, most notably, Dementors and Lethifolds. Any ideas?"
"The Patronus Charm, Professor," replied a smug looking Bellatrix Black.
"Correct. Can anyone demonstrate?"
Isolde was chosen and she approached the front of the room, her mind flipping through the memories of this year, eventually landing on the memory of her first Animagus transformation. Raising her wand, her eyes glinting and deadly, she bellowed the charm and flourished her wand, smiling with pride at the side of her pearly dragon.
"Excellent!" Professor McKinnon cried, clapping excitedly. "And such an unusual form, too. Dragons are quite rare, often reserved for wizards—witches, in this case—of immense power. They stand for the elemental magic and the spiritual and the fierce. Are you fierce, Miss Chase?"
"'Course I am, Professor," Isolde said, returning to her seat. No one really commented on it, as most of them already knew Professor McKinnon was a bit stoned, no matter if she'd been smoking or not.
"You go, girl! Girl power!" When her rallying cry was met with little enthusiasm (aside from a few Ravenclaws who refused to wear make-up, perfume and bras, the latter to the delight of their male House members), she moved on to tell them exactly how the charm was performed and, after ten or fifteen minutes of practice, instructed them to form a single file line to demonstrate their ability to perform the charm. Once the charm had been satisfactorily performed, she would then announce the symbolism of the creature in question before scribbling a little on the parchment to mark grades.
Isolde Chase (dragon): O
Bellatrix Black (hornet): E
Narcissa Black (skunk): A
Rabastan Lestrange (tarantula): O
Antonin Dolohov (elephant): A
James Potter (stag): O
Sirius Black (coyote): O
Remus Lupin (wolf): O
Peter Pettigrew (mouse): A
Severus Snape (crow): O
Helene Fermier (crow): O
Theodore Nott II (salmon): O
Frank Longbottom (moose): E
Alice Klein (bear): A
Emmeline Vance (horse): E
"I hadn't realized that my Patronus changed," Severus said in wonderment once they left Defense against the Dark Arts.
"What was it before, Sev?" Hermione asked, genuinely curious, remembering the silver doe in the Forest of Dean.
He scowled when Helene asked, having put Lily Evans behind him ever since she had tried to hex Isolde behind her back. He'd thought that sort of behavior was above her, the little non-apology-accepting-hypocrite. "It was a doe."
Sirius sniggered, and Isolde elbowed him roughly in the chest.
"Mine changed, too, Sev." The revelation from Helene shocked him, and he asked her what hers had been.
"A pretty little otter. I never used the charm in a practical situation, but it was necessary to learn. I wonder why ours both changed."
"I believe that had I not known Lily Evans, my Patronus would have been the crow the first time I cast the charm. And I know why yours changed," he reminded her, smirking.
"Shove it, both o' you. Neither of us," Isolde said, indicating herself and Sirius, "wants to hear that."
As they shared a free period after DADA alternate days, the group of four headed to the library, sharing a table in the alcove Hermione had showed Isolde during her "first week" at Hogwarts. Spreading their books out was easy enough, though most of the table space was covered immediately with parchment and quills and huge, swotty books that made Sirius, and, to a lesser extent, Isolde shudder. Sirius and Isolde had magical power in spades, but the theory and the book-learning side of school had never much interested them; to her credit, Isolde was a decent bull-shitter and was able to breeze through her essays with only a bit of help from the books, usually landing at least an E for her trouble. Sirius rarely bothered to do the trivial assignments and required quite a bit of motivation for others, though his practical work always received an E or above.
Isolde reached into her bag, pulling out a letter she had received during breakfast the week before. It was a normal, chatty missive written by her mother and father inquiring about friends and schoolwork and the mundane parts of being a witch. Her older brother Matt had also scribbled an indecipherable something at the end, most likely a joke or something ridiculous about her. She grinned as she tried to read his handwriting, failing miserably and laughing a little at herself.
"Laughing to oneself—never a good sign," Severus whispered theatrically to Hermione who winked at Sirius.
The boy's expression immediately became crestfallen, and he grabbed Isolde, clutching her to him and dramatically announcing that he would find her the best care in the entire world, no matter the cost or the burden; Severus and Hermione dissolved into muffled laughter, Hermione snorting as Isolde flailed her arms and tried to escape.
"Geroff me!" She swore into Sirius's robes, pushing him away as best she could. He backed off once Madam Pince strolled by, eyeing them with disdain and suspicion.
"What's in the letter, Philomel?" Sirius asked, smoothing her hair down and kissing her cheek before resuming his seat.
"My mum wants to know what I'm doing for the winter hols. They're only a week off, and I was wondering if you'd all like to," she paused shyly, hanging her head and casting her eyes downwards," to come to my house for the holiday."
Hermione jumped on the offer, nodding her head and smiling excitedly for an opportunity to learn more about Isolde Chase as a friend and as a major player in the British Wizarding World's future. Severus agreed to come, having planned to spend his holiday—with the exception of the third day after Boxing Day—with Helene and his newfound friends.
"I usually spend the holidays with the-the others," Sirius said quietly, "and I was going to ask you if you wanted to join us."
"I wanted you to meet everyone, Puppy," Isolde said, "and my parents are all excited to meet you, seeing as I've mentioned you all in my letters."
"I'll come, Isolde, that wasn't the question, but the Potters are pretty much my family now, and I do want you to know them." Seeing Isolde's confusion, he looked over to Hermione and Severus, who watched the couple with great interest. "I'll tell you later," he mumbled.
Satisfied, Isolde set off to writing a short reply to her parents, telling them that, yes, her friends would certainly join them for the holidays and chastising her brother's poor penmanship.
The fast approaching holidays made the time pass faster, and the excitement intensified when a Hogsmeade weekend was announced, allowing the students to go and do their Yuletide shopping. Helene and Isolde made plans to shop together for gifts for Severus and Sirius, and the thought of the number of people she had to buy for made Isolde swoon a little, as she wasn't used to it, in the end. For Remus, she wanted to find a good record; Warren Zevon's Excitable Boy album was her first choice, though that would have to be bought in Muggle London. For Peter, she assumed that it would be safest to go with a nice box of candy—something inoffensive. Lily's gift was found, oddly enough, while Isolde was scrying in a crystal ball during her last Divination class; she only hoped that she would be able to find it in Hogsmeade, as it certainly couldn't be found in Muggle London. James was another tough person to find a gift for, but she assumed that she would be able to find something. The of course, there were the gifts for her parents and her brother. Thank Merlin she'd been squirreling away her pocket money for the year.
Once her list had been made, Isolde ran to the Entrance Hall to meet Sirius, who looked attractive as always in his dark cloak and a blue jumper. He folded her into his cloak for a hug, resting his chin on the top of her head. "Have you figured everything out?"
"I think so," she replied, mulling over her list in her head. "Could you help me shop for them, Sirius? I just don't want to find the wrong thing."
"'Course, Philomel. I like spending time with you, remember?"
She chuckled and they left the Entrance Hall, hand in hand and fingers entwined, meandering down the frosted path to the village.
Helene and Severus wandered through the village, as Severus had thought it easier to shop for Isolde together. They wander through Honeydukes and Scrivenshaft's—even Dervish and Banges—and found nothing. His mind began to wander to the day that the holidays will bring: the first time he will meet the man who is to be his Lord.
He did not consider himself a fool, nor was he naïve enough to believe that there was any escaping the brand he had already seen on Rabastan Lestrange's arm or Bellatrix Black's arm. He hates the idea of it on his arm, the burning black against the pallid skin. Part of him almost wants it to hurt—begs it to hurt him—because he knows he will deserve it for what he will do in the name of the Dark Mark and the Dark Lord.
Severus glanced down at his Helene, watching her from behind his curtain of hair as she shops, her eyes flicking across racks of jumpers and rows of books. He had yet to confront her about every lie that she had told on the night of the Masquerade, but he had no idea of how to do that or what he would learn from her. He didn't even know what she would appreciate as a Christmas gift—how was he to know how to handle such a delicate subject?
His sigh broke Hermione out of her concentration. She sighed too, putting the book she had pulled out of the shelf down.
She wrapped an arm around his waist, pulling him to her and asking gently, "Are you alright, Severus?"
"I'm fine," he said, shrugging her concern away. "Just thinking, that's all."
She smiled when she met his eyes, pressing her lips to his for a moment and he savored it, darting his tongue out to taste the warmth of her. For whatever reason, he knew that as long as she was there, he could survive; he could have a future; he would make it out of whatever was coming and he would be okay because she would be there at the end.
Isolde met Severus and Helene while Sirius went off with the other Marauders to shop and pal around. They had a quick bite to eat in the Three Broomsticks as well as a butter beer to warm them up, as each one was shivering and had roses in their cheeks. They each hid their purchases in their cloaks as they talked and laughed and drank their butter beers, renewing the friendship they had shared before the sexual tension elephant came.
"Well, 'Lene, are you ready to get shopping?" Isolde asked happily, hopping off her stool and grabbing her purse.
Hermione agreed, drained her butter beer and left with her as Severus watched them go, shaking his head in amusement as the two left, arm in arm and skipping merrily out in Hogsmeade, their reflections blurred by the frosty window glass.
"But do you think he'll like it?" Hermione asked Isolde for the umpteenth time in as many minutes.
"For the last time, yes! It's perfect, 'Lene. He'd be a fool not to like it!" Isolde's patience was running rather thin by then as she still couldn't find a good gift for Severus.
Helene had found him a beautiful black fur-lined cloak, which she had then monogrammed with a silvery "SS." It was the perfect length and weight for a winter cloak and it was far nicer than the one he wore now. He always seemed so cold, and his cloak was short and threadbare. It made her smile even more when she remembered that he wore it in the future at the Yule Ball during the Triwizard Tournament while he had been blasting away at the roses in the gardens.
"What do you think of this, Helene?" Isolde asked, holding an obsidian knife with a pewter handle. "I thought it would be useful in his brewing," she explained, "since obsidian doesn't dull and won't react with many of the more volatile ingredients."
"I think he'll love it," Hermione said, beaming at her friend.
"I want to get some engraving done on the blade," Isolde told the shopkeeper at the counter as she presented him with the knife.
"Saying what?" the man enquired impatiently.
"There's always something," Isolde said firmly. "He'll need to remember that someday, I think."
She refused to elaborate.