Chapter 55
Snape did write to Father on Sunday night about his disapproval of Draco Malfoy asking me out. I didn't see the letter, but my brother told me that he made it perfectly clear to Father that he was not going to allow me to date whilst I was still at school.
I hadn't received anything in the mail from Father and I wasn't sure whether to take that as a good or a bad sign. On Friday night before I went to bed, I asked Snape if Father had replied to his letter.
"No," he said simply, looking up from marking homework from his seventh years Advanced Potions class. "I take it you haven't received anything either?"
I shook my head, shifting slightly in my position on the sofa.
"Well, perhaps no news is good news."
"Would he accept it so easily?" I asked quietly.
"He has no other choice," he replied, his expression darkening. "I reminded him that school related decisions are left with me, and I include your school social life in that."
"Wouldn't he look for a gap though?"
Snape raised an eyebrow. "Act on a technicality you mean? I've already thought of the possibility that he'll use your summer time with him to have you spend more time with Draco."
"Did you mention that to him?"
He inclined his head. "I did, certainly. I made it clear to him that I will not tolerate it. Any effort on his part to put you together with Draco in the holidays will be undone by me during the school term."
I nodded. I was still worried that the lack of response from Father meant that he had other ideas that he wasn't sharing.
Snape was watching me closely. "I wouldn't worry about it, Armilla. You know that Father generally only writes to you to complain about something or to give you orders. Having no letter from him could mean that he was satisfied with the way you handled the situation, even though you refused Draco. You must have been polite enough to avoid Draco speaking badly of you to Lucius."
"Oh."
Snape looked thoughtful. "Either that, or Draco-" he stopped, sneering slightly.
"What about him?"
Snape pursed his lips. "Or Draco still likes you enough not to complain to his father that you refused him."
I didn't say anything. The subject of me and dating was not a favourite of my brother's.
Snape leaned back in his chair. "Speaking of Mr. Malfoy, how has he been treating you this week?"
"I haven't spoken to him," I said honestly. I hadn't seen much of Malfoy at all, and when I had, it was only from a distance in corridors or in the Great Hall. He might have been trying to avoid contact because he was still embarrassed. Though I certainly didn't want Draco Malfoy's affections, I had nearly laughed every time I had seen Pansy Parkinson attempt to get his attention. Malfoy still didn't seem too interested.
Snape nodded. "Good. Hopefully he'll get over it then. Have you told your friends that you aren't going to Hogsmeade?"
"Yes," I answered.
"And how did they take it?"
"They're not happy about it, but I expected that."
"They'll get over it," he murmured, looking back at the essay in front of him on the table. "Wrong. Abyssinian Shrivelfigs aren't used in Swelling Solutions…that was covered in second year…how did you ever make it into my NEWT class?"
I watched as he underlined a few lines of the essay in red ink and then proceeded to write what I presumed to be a scathing comment next to it. I wondered who the offending student was and whether he or she was going to get a comment inspired from the book I had given Snape.
"Name a potion that an Abyssinian Shrivelfig would be used in, Armilla," he said, suddenly.
"Shrinking Solution."
"Very good. Explain the name of the ingredient." Snape didn't even look up; he wrote the mark at the top of the page and reached for another essay.
"Figs are a staple of Ethiopia, the modern name for Abyssinia."
"And what must you do to it before adding it to a Shrinking Solution?"
"Skin it."
"Name the other ingredients needed."
I thought for a moment. Just my luck to get a sudden quiz on past content just as I was going to bed. "Caterpillar, daisy roots, leech juice and…" What was the other one? "…rat spleen."
"Correct. What colour should the potion be if it has been brewed correctly?"
"Bright green."
Snape nodded, looking up again. "That's all," he said, smirking slightly. "You pass."
"I don't like impromptu tests," I grumbled, picking up my school books from the coffee table.
"It's important to be prepared for anything at all times," he responded, returning his gaze to the essay, "not just for exams."
I opened my mouth to reply, but was cut short by a sudden screech from my bedroom.
"Her Majesty calls," said Snape, his lip curling.
Morag had been in a bad mood all week. On Monday night, she had finally decided to nibble at the Hogwarts owl food that Snape had given her, but had made such a disgusted face that I had felt quite sorry for her.
Even after the better quality Morgan's owl food had arrived on Tuesday, Snape had still refused to give it to her. And Morag knew that Snape had her favourite food. She had had numerous tantrums when Snape was around, but they had all been cut short when Snape had repeatedly pointed his wand at her.
At her wit's end, Morag had begrudgingly eaten a tiny amount of the Hogwarts food each day, but still let off screeches of frustration at any given moment. On Tuesday night, she had flown to my arm to seek comfort, perhaps with the hope that I would give her the Morgan's food. Having already promised to oblige my brother and let him handle the situation, I had stroked her, but had not given her anything. Since then, she had been mad at both of us, and refused to let me touch her, or else I would receive a nip.
"I don't know what to do for her anymore," I said, walking to my bedroom with my books.
"Do nothing," he replied. "She has to learn."
I entered my room and gasped in horror. In a bad temper, Morag had practically emptied her cage all over the floor. There were droppings here and there and owl food scattered all around my bed. Thankfully, Morag had guessed that it would be a step too far to place her droppings on my bed. There were even multi-coloured feathers floating around the room. Morag was sitting on top of the armoire, flapping her wings and hooting shrilly.
"Morag," I moaned. "You won't be getting the food you want now. I wouldn't give it to you after this."
She kept hooting, clearly intent on having it out with me.
I moved further into the room, having to tiptoe so I wouldn't step on food or droppings.
"Stop, you're not getting anything," I snapped at her.
She screeched louder and starting hopping about, turning from white to black to grey to green. I was dizzy just watching her.
"Morag, I'm warning you," I hissed.
Louder still, she stretched out her growing claws and did her best to intimidate me, obviously wanting to see how far she could push me.
Undeterred, I reached into my robes and pulled out my wand. Pointing it directly at her, I fixed her with a determined expression to match her own.
She stopped at once. Her eyes bulged at the sight of my wand and let out a soft hoot before returning to her usual size and colour.
"What on Earth is going on in there?" I heard Snape's angry voice call. I heard his footsteps come down the hallway.
"Armilla, I-" he stopped short in the doorway, looking livid as he took in his surroundings. It was an unusual sight. I was standing in the middle of the room, surrounded by owl food, droppings and coloured floating feathers, pointing my wand at my owl, who was now shaking slightly on top of the armoire.
Snape watched in disdain as a pink feather land on his arm. He pursed his lips as he picked it off as if it was some sort of unsightly insect.
I lowered my wand and looked back at Morag. She was still shaking, her eyes flitting from me to Snape and back again.
"Armilla," Snape began, once he had found his voice again. His voice was laced with fury. "It would appear that the creature currently sitting atop your armoire has made a request to be reprimanded."
I said nothing. I kept watching Morag's shaking form. She was so upset. I knew I should have been just as furious with her as Snape was for making such a mess in my bedroom, but underneath, I felt sorry for her.
"I don't think you'll be tasting the food you crave for a long time," Snape snapped, glaring at Morag.
Morag wouldn't look back at him. I knew she was ashamed; it wasn't like her to do such a thing.
"If she can't treat this room with respect, Armilla, then she shall not stay in here." Snape looked back at me, scowling, as if daring me to argue about it.
I didn't bother arguing; I knew he wouldn't bend, not after Morag had made such a display. She had tested his patience to its limit.
Snape took out his wand and muttered a few spells. Within seconds, the floor was clean once more and there wasn't a floating feather in sight.
"Put her in her cage and take her out to the sitting room," he instructed, putting his wand away. He turned on his heel and stalked out of the room. "I will not be beaten by an owl," I heard him mutter as he returned to his marking.
o
My friends hadn't given up on trying to find ways to let me join them in Hogsmeade on Valentine's Day. Ever since I'd told them that Snape wouldn't allow it this time, they'd been coming up with cases for me to use to try to convince him. I told them that I was not bothered that I wasn't going, but I didn't mention feeling like a third wheel. That wasn't fair, especially considering that both of them always went to the trouble of including me. I was actually happy to let them have Valentine's Day to themselves.
Neither of them would buy that I was indifferent about not going. They both thought that I was disappointed and was covering it up, which I really wasn't. Snape's decision turned them against Draco Malfoy even more and they spent a lot of time in the common room badmouthing him and blaming him for me missing what was expected to be a great day in Hogsmeade.
"But you'll be lonely here all by yourself," Lisa pointed out, after I told her for the umpteenth time that I wasn't worried that I wasn't going.
"No, I won't," I answered, closing my Charms textbook. "You won't see me for the entire weekend anyway. I'm going down to the dungeons on Friday like normal, but I'm staying down there for the weekend."
Lisa didn't look convinced. "But, what will you do all weekend?"
I grinned. "Duel."
Terry sniggered. "Duel?"
"Yes, duel. Is that a foreign word for you?"
He looked dubious. "Are you a match for Snape? I mean, I know you're one of the best at Defence, but won't he flatten you?"
I glared at him. "Perhaps, Boot. But since he teaches me to duel, I'm learning his style of duelling, which you know is a force to be reckoned with. So you had better watch out or I may flatten you." I pointed my wand at him, doing my best don't even think about crossing me expression. Maybe Snape was rubbing off on me after all…
Terry opened his mouth, and then closed it again in defeat.
"I'll admit that you're probably the best dueller of the three of us, Mill," said Lisa, smirking at Terry's lost expression, "but you don't really beat Snape at duelling do you? How can you?"
"I'm not an idiot," I said, laughing. "I don't imagine for a second that I can beat him."
"So how can you possibly duel with him and not get dozens of injuries?" Terry looked aghast.
"I do get injuries," I admitted. "I certainly did in the beginning, but I improved. For Severus, duelling is like second nature, and I don't think I'll be a match for him until it's like that for me too."
"Remember when Snape duelled with Lockhart back in our second year?" Lisa asked, a grin on her face.
"Yeah," Terry laughed. "Must have been the only time I was rooting for a Slytherin to win."
I nodded, smiling as I recalled the disdain on Snape's face when Lockhart had referred to him as his assistant. "Lockhart was a disgrace to the House of Ravenclaw."
"Such a hopeless teacher," Lisa agreed, picking up her Defence Against The Dark Arts book. "Almost as bad as Umbridge."
"We've had our share of bad teachers," I agreed.
"Snape would flatten Umbridge if the old Duelling Club started up again," Lisa said, opening up a bottle of ink. "Shame she doesn't believe in actually using defensive magic."
Terry rolled his eyes. "She's only here to be a spy for the Ministry, evil old hag."
Lisa turned back to me. "You're not really going to duel for the whole weekend though?"
"Not every moment," I answered, rifling through the pages in my Transfiguration text.
"Do you get a reward when you learn something new?" she asked, smirking. "Points to Ravenclaw?"
"A chocolate frog for each new curse you master?" Terry suggested.
"No," I scoffed. "You've been acquainted with him long enough to know the answer to both of those questions."
They laughed.
"Our curiosity never dies," Lisa said, picking up her quill. "We just try to imagine what it's actually like down there with him."
"It's terrifying," I drawled. "He makes me write lines. Over and over again I have to write My friends are complete dunderheads."
Lisa snorted. "You could have been friends with Harry Potter. Snape would have been mortified by that."
I nodded. "I know better than to mention the name."
Terry grinned. "Snape might let you beat him at duelling to make up for not letting you go to Hogsmeade."
I snorted. "What kind of fantasy world do you live in?"
o
The last couple of weeks of January flew by at an alarming rate and before I knew it, it was nearly mid-February. It seemed that there was never a spare moment, except for the Sunday afternoons Snape had ordered me to keep free. But even then, we rarely sat around talking for the entire afternoon. We often stayed in Dumbledore's office for a couple of hours, talking to Mother. And when we did return to the dungeons, Snape would often utilise the time by practising duelling with me, which we had both come to view as a leisurely practice because we enjoyed it so much.
Sometimes Snape would teach me new healing charms for the more powerful curses like the one Father had been kind enough to give me on my last night at his house. I had more preparation to do if I was going to survive a lengthier period at Father's house during the summer. The thought of staying for more than a week at Father's house was enough to put me off my food. I doubted that Rougier, the dim-witted hag in disguise as a governess, would show her face again at Snape Manor, even if Father invited her back.
But summer was a long way away. Every time Father's face appeared in my mind, I pushed it back lightning fast and mentally set fire to it.
Morag had gotten used to the fact that the Morgan's food was now a privilege. After the drama when she had messed up my bedroom and was subsequently banished to the sitting room, she had learned to control her temper very quickly. Only a couple of nights before, Snape had finally agreed to let Morag back into my room once more. He constantly reminded Morag that it was a trial and any undue outbursts on her part would result in permanent banishment to the corner of the sitting room. Happy to be back in my room again, she hadn't dared to test me again.
I saw very little of Draco Malfoy, and when our paths did cross, we both muttered a polite hello and went on our way. Snape regularly asked for updates on how often I saw the boy, and was more than pleased that Malfoy seemed to have retreated.
I still had not received word from Father, and nor had Snape. Snape did not seem concerned about it at all, and I took his advice and didn't bother myself worrying about it either. If Father wanted to say something, he would write. He always did.
Classes were getting busier and teachers were piling on homework as if their lives depended on it. It was agreed upon by most of the fifth years that Snape was one of the worst offenders in this case. He thought nothing of giving us hours and hours worth of homework. It was great to be able to spend Tuesday evenings with him though, going over everything I did because Snape had made it his mission that I did not miss a single thing.
"Harry told us that we might do the Patronus Charm soon," said Terry, as we made our way down to the dungeons for Potions on Friday after break. "Have you done patronuses yet, Mill?"
"Severus mentioned it in passing ages ago," I replied, "but he didn't teach me how to do it because he thought that it was unlikely that I'd run into a Dementor at Father's house."
Lisa shivered. "Urgh, imagine that. A Dementor and your father in the same room."
"Not a nice thought," I agreed, trying to rid my mind of the imagery.
We joined the end of the line outside Snape's classroom. Everyone was chatting about the trip to Hogsmeade on the following day.
"No, I'm not going to the Shrieking Shack again," I heard Ernie Macmillan say to Hannah Abbott, who was looking quite put out.
"Nah, I don't think Zonko's is so good anymore," Anthony Goldstein said to Mandy Brocklehurst. "Not after seeing the stuff the Weasley twins are selling."
I had seen the Weasley twins numerous times in passing over the last few weeks. Every time we had made eye contact, they had either winked or smiled at me. I wished I could get the two of them alone to ask what was with the winking.
I cleared my head of the Weasley twins and tuned in to what my friends were saying about patronuses.
"I think mine will be a tiger," Terry announced.
Lisa laughed. "Sure, it will."
"What do you think your patronus will be?" I asked her.
"A cat," she said promptly. "Hopefully a ginger cat."
"Tigers are big cats," Terry pointed out. "We'd both have cats, Lis."
Lisa smiled back at him. "That would be lovely."
"What are you two talking about, Lovebirds?"
We turned around to see Zacharias Smith join the line. I didn't like Smith. His arrogance could rival Malfoy's.
"Patronuses," Terry answered. "We're just guessing what we think ours will be."
Smith glared at Terry and then looked pointedly at me. "You know you're not supposed to talk about…you know what in front of her." He gestured towards me with a wave of his arm.
"Well, she does know about it," Lisa retorted, glaring back at him.
"Well, we don't know what side she's on, do we?" he hissed.
"Yes, we do," said Terry, firmly.
Smith rolled his eyes. "She's Snape's sister, you idiot. She's probably just as wily as he is. She'd easily fool you to get inside information if it serves her purpose."
"You seem to have this all figured out, Smith," I drawled. "Awfully clever, aren't we?"
He sneered. "You've probably got your friends right where you want them. You'll use them to get what you want."
I scoffed. "And since you know me so well, would you care to enlighten me as to exactly what it is that I want?"
"I don't know," he snapped, looking thoroughly irritated. "But I know we can't trust you, no matter what Fred and George Weasley say."
I sighed. "Smith," I said, giving the idiot a pitying look, "You've got the brain of a dung beetle, and I bet he was glad to get rid of it." A voice inside me said hurrah! Well, so much for not liking it when Snape used his new book to insult students. He shouldn't have let me read it the other night.
Smith opened his mouth to retort, but at that moment the classroom door opened and Snape appeared. The line of students became silent within seconds and Snape nodded at us to enter.
The Potions lesson was for theory work on a Friday, and we were given a variety of roots, which we had to name and write the specific properties and uses for. I found it fairly easy, considering that I had covered this content with Snape the week before.
Smith, however, was still agitated about what had happened outside. He didn't dare show me his anger by shooting me furious glances every now and then, just in case Snape happened to see. Instead, he was pressing his quill so hard into his parchment that anyone who saw him could be with no doubt that he was in a bad mood.
Just as I was wondering about the state of his poor parchment, I heard a tearing noise and looked up to see Smith mutter an oath as he examined the rip in his parchment. Unfortunately for him, Snape wasn't too far behind him when it happened.
"As difficult as you may find my lessons, Smith," he said waspishly, "I will not tolerate such language in my classroom, no matter how quietly you use it. Twenty points from Hufflepuff."
Wisely, Smith said nothing. He took out his wand to repair his parchment. Snape looked on, his lip curling.
"So irritated you're tearing your parchment now?" He smirked. "What's on your mind, Smith? If you'll forgive the overstatement."
It was a sign of how much many people in the class hated Smith, because quite a few chortles could be heard around the room. They subsided as soon as Snape's withering glare swept the room. I kept looking down at my work. If I looked at my brother right now I would shake my head at him. That was another insult from the book I had given him. Well, if it had to be used on someone in my Potions class, Smith was the best person. At least everyone, save Smith, had enjoyed it.
"Nothing worth mentioning, sir."
Snape sneered. "I thought so. If I see such a display again it will be detention. Understood?"
"Yes, sir."
Snape swept away, his robes billowing behind him. He went to bully a couple of the other Hufflepuffs instead, who seemed to have become confused with labelling the roots they had been given.
"You know," Terry whispered to me, "You and your brother seem to have a great range of witty remarks…quite insulting too. Do you compare notes or something?"
I looked up long enough to cast him a fleeting smile. "Never you mind," I muttered.
o
On Saturday morning I awoke to the sound of soft hooting from Morag's cage. Sitting up, I watched as she went about tidying her own cage.
"Well, this is new," I said, getting out of bed to watch.
Morag blinked up at me, hooting once more before returning to her work.
I went back over to my bed and picked up my wand from the bedside table. I returned to the cage and pointed my wand at the droppings. "Evanesco." The droppings vanished and Morag stopped to give me an appreciative hoot.
"You're welcome," I replied, stroking her feathers.
I showered and dressed and joined my brother in the sitting room for breakfast.
"Morag was cleaning her cage this morning," I told him, reaching for some toast.
Snape placed his newspaper aside and picked up his coffee. "Will wonders never cease?" he said dryly.
"Does that mean she can have something nice to eat?"
He shook his head. "Not until she makes a habit of it."
"At least she's trying," I said quietly.
"She has some merit," he acknowledged, sneering slightly. "I would say that she's easier to train than Docky."
I smiled. I missed Docky. He was a much nicer house elf than Jiffy, my father's wretched house elf. "Maybe Docky is too old to train."
"No. Docky was hard to train when he was younger, according to Mother."
"What does he do all day long by himself anyway?"
Snape cast me a dour look. "It's not something I like to think about, Armilla. But I would guess that when he's not cleaning or tending to the garden, which should take up most of his time considering the size of the house, he's probably bouncing off the walls."
I smiled. Snape was probably right. But even so, I looked forward to seeing Docky again. It was a shame that I couldn't tell my father that I would rather spend time with Snape's house elf over him.
After breakfast, Snape used magic to push the furniture against the walls so we had enough room to duel properly.
For about fifteen minutes, we just practised duelling, and Snape kept making it harder and harder. He had taught me a few curses that could go straight through common shield charms and so I had to cast the more complicated shield charms that were in the books Snape had given me to study ages ago.
I was concentrating so hard on not allowing Snape's hexes to penetrate my shield charms that I wasn't able to fire anything back at him.
"That will do," he announced finally, lowering his wand.
I nodded, grateful that I hadn't allowed myself to get injured.
"I wasn't relenting, you know," he said, sitting down on the sofa, which had been pushed against the wall. "You're definitely improving."
I joined him on the sofa, wand still in hand. Snape poured two glasses of water.
"You look disappointed," he commented, handing me a glass. "You didn't get injured. You've mastered those shield charms I taught you."
"No," I said, after taking a drink, "but I had to concentrate so hard on producing those shields that I wasn't able to even attempt disarming you or firing anything back. If you were the enemy, you would have just waited until I got tired and the charm failed."
Snape inclined his head. "Certainly, which brings us to what we will be practising this weekend." He gave me a mysterious smile. "Have you ever thought of using your Occlumency skills to help you duel?"
I stared at him. "Not really. I thought using Legilimency would be more effective."
"Oh it is, I assure you," he said, nodding. "It is indeed an advantage to look into your opponent's mind to see what hex is going to be cast before it happens."
I would have bet anything that Snape always used Legilimency on other people when he duelled.
"You use some sort of mental shield when you occlude."
I nodded. I still liked the use the steel arm imagery to stop invaders and push worrying thoughts away.
"When you use that mental shield, what are its boundaries?"
I thought for a moment. "Well, I just see it inside my head…that's sounds stupid, doesn't it?"
He shook his head. "Not at all; you know it works effectively. I'm not saying that you are to use proper Occlumency to defend yourself in duelling. That wouldn't make sense since you can't fight off hexes with a mind shield."
"So how will Occlumency skills help me?"
Snape considered me for a moment, his black eyes glittering. "The current shield you use is in your head, protecting only your mind. The difficult part has already been mastered; you have built an effective shield. The next challenge is for you to experiment with it so it may offer protection for more than your mind."
"So, change, it you mean, so that it protects my entire body?" That was going to take a lot of power…and energy.
He nodded. "Push the shield from your mind far enough so that you can envision it in front of yourself. The trick will be to maintain such a large shield, and duel at the same time."
I shook my head. "Duel at the same time? But I'll use up so much energy and concentration just maintaining the shield."
Snape sneered. "Armilla. Do you remember when I first starting teaching you Occlumency?"
"Very well," I said wryly.
"Well then, do you remember how much energy and concentration you used up back then?"
I nodded.
"Is it the same now?"
"No," I admitted. I had gotten so used to occluding that I barely noticed when I did it now.
"You became so accustomed to occluding," he went on, "that soon you were able to do all sorts of things and occlude at the same time. You used to talk to me and occlude at the same time." He frowned slightly. "I'm glad you've broken that habit."
"So, you think I can extend the shield and maintain it…and duel at the same time?"
"No," he said curtly, "I don't think you can. I know you can. I wouldn't suggest you attempt such a complex piece of magic if I didn't think you possessed the skill or power. Even if I taught Defence Against the Dark Arts, there would be very few NEWT level students I would teach this to."
I stared at him for a moment. "How do you know about that sort of shield?" I asked quietly.
He considered me for a moment. "I experimented," he said finally.
"You created it?" I was impressed. That wasn't simple magic.
He nodded. "I was curious as to how far mental shields could be pushed."
"If I manage to maintain this shield," I said slowly, "will it repel any sort of hex?"
"Well, that would depend on the type of hex and the force with which it is cast, but it is up to you to experiment with your own shield and alter it if need be."
"Design myself a shield with many special features?" I asked, smiling.
Snape returned the smile. "Start off simply at first, but once you get the hang of it you can then make small changes and try different things. I won't give you the most complicated hexes to deal with at first. I'll keep it simple so you can at least adjust to envisioning the shield in front of you."
I thought of the steel arm I used in my mind for Occlumency. I didn't think that would do. It was just an arm. I would need more than that. I would need a steel wall.
"And keep in mind," he continued, "that you'll constantly have that shield in front of you when you are duelling. It'll have to be aesthetically pleasing to you. Don't imagine anything too grotesque or complicated because it might put you off. It's possible to create something that's simple and powerful."
"Alright," I said, thinking of a plain steel wall…a very, very thick one.
"Stand up then," said Snape, getting up.
We took the positions we had taken before, facing each other.
"Now, imagine the shield in your mind…now push it far enough so that it's outside your body. Let it get bigger and surround you, but don't let it go."
I followed his instructions, and before long I was able to imagine the wall around me. It certainly helped that the imagery part was no longer a challenge since I had conquered when I had learnt Occlumency.
"Is it there?" Snape asked.
I nodded, concentrating on the image.
"Alright then. I'm going to throw a simple hex. If your charm is successful, then it will not get through." He raised his wand. "Impedimenta!"
A spark flew from his wand and came right at me. I concentrated hard on the shield in front of me. It can't come in. It won't get past the wall.
Nothing happened.
A moment later, I let the shield down and stared curiously at my brother. "What happened?" I asked.
"What happened?" he scoffed. "It worked, that's what happened."
I shook my head. "Couldn't have," I muttered. I didn't think that I would manage it on my first attempt.
"Have more faith in yourself, Armilla," said Snape dryly. "It would make the task of teaching you much easier."
I threw him a half-hearted glare, which was returned with a look of indifference.
"I hope you haven't put that shield down," he said, raising his wand again. "You never know when I might attack. Rictusempra!" A silver light came shooting towards me.
I nearly failed that time. Thank Merlin, I got the shield up before the tickling charm hit me. Snape kept firing hex after hex for a full ten minutes. He was really putting me to the test as I had to concentrate on nothing but maintaining the shield.
"Tired?" he asked, finally lowering his wand.
"A little," I admitted, not lowering the shield. I didn't trust him when it came to duelling; he'd lower his wand with the pretence of stopping and then suddenly attack. Sure enough, a split second later another hex came my way, and I was ready for it.
"Tarantallegra!"
The hex came to nothing and Snape lowered his wand again.
"Ah, I see you anticipated me. Very good."
I watched him cautiously, awaiting another sudden attack.
However, Snape sat down on the sofa again and gestured for me to join him. "Come…I promise I won't hex you," he added, when I gave him a sceptical look.
"With practice you'll conquer it sooner than you think," he said, putting his own wand away. "It's very demanding magic. We'll do it slowly, otherwise you'll exhaust your powers and be off school for a week…and I won't allow that."
"Do you use it every time you duel?" I asked. Snape seemed capable of such powerful and complicated magic.
"Generally," he replied.
"Do many people know about it?"
He shook his head. "No," he admitted. "I've experimented with magic a lot over the years, but I've generally not shared the success stories."
"It might be like giving away your advantage," I said thoughtfully.
He inclined his head. "Exactly. I see we're on the same page." He gave me a significant look. "So you understand then that you're not to tell anyone about it?"
I nodded.
"It's not as if many other students could attempt it anyway," he went on. "Only those with more power than the average witch or wizard. You need even more power than what is required to cast a successful patronus."
"So I could cast a patronus?" I asked, thinking about my friends learning the same thing with Harry.
"Of course you could," he replied. "It generally takes a long time to learn to cast one, but with the level of magic you've conquered, it should come easily enough for you." He considered me for a moment. "I doubt you'll be running into a Dementor, but it would probably be useful to teach you to cast one."
"Could you?" I asked. I was very interested in what creature my patronus would be.
"Well, it'll be easier for you to cast it while there are no Dementors around, but I'll teach you the spell." He stood up again and I followed him over to one end of the room.
"You say Expecto Patronum." He showed me the correct wand movement. "What's most important is focusing on a happy memory as you cast the spell. The memory must be incredibly powerful in its joy or it won't work."
I considered this, thinking over my memories. Would I pick a happy memory from my life with Merle?
"Alright then," Snape said briskly, "have a go. It shouldn't be too hard for you, considering that there's no emotion sucking creature about to rob you of happiness."
I thought of the last Christmas I had spent with Merle, sitting on her bed with her, drinking hot chocolate, chatting the hours away. Raising my wand, and trying to push away the tinge of sadness that came with that memory, I waved it in the way Snape had just shown me. "Expecto Patronum!"
A silvery wisp shot out of my wand, but came to nothing. I stared at it, trying not to feel dejected. It had been my first attempt, after all.
"There was nothing wrong with your wand movement or incantation," came Snape's voice. "How focused were you on the happy memory?"
"I was focused," I said quietly. Perhaps my underlying sadness about the happy memory not being able to repeat itself had impacted my ability to successfully cast the patronus.
"Perhaps a different memory," Snape suggested, watching me closely. I wondered if he could guess at my thoughts.
I nodded, trying to think of a more recent memory. My life had been so full of hardship in recent months, but there had been significant moments of happiness. I could have chosen the happy memory of finding my mother, but pushed that thought away, knowing the sadness of her being dead would impact the patronus.
"You don't have to do this now, Armilla," Snape said quietly.
I looked over at him and took in his calculating expression. The way I looked at him now was so different to how I had looked at him only four months earlier. A memory suddenly came to me.
"I called her a painted old hag!" I shrieked, tears pouring down my face. "And she deserved it too! She is a painted old hag!"
Snape stepped back, staring at me.
"I know I shouldn't have!" I yelled. "I snapped! I know I shouldn't have!" I sobbed. "I know I deserved that hex! I know-"
My ranting was cut short as Snape slowly moved forward and took me into his arms. He held me tightly and I continued to sob with my head against his shoulder.
"I know you know many things," he said quietly, pushing my hair out of my face, "but indeed you are mistaken. You did not deserve to be hexed and you will find yourself gutting toads if I ever hear you say so again."
The Snape I had known from before would not have been so forgiving of a fifteen year-old yelling at him in the midst of a meltdown. That had been the first time my brother had hugged me and it had changed our relationship, at least from my perspective. Snape rarely showed affection towards me, so that memory was very powerful. Was it happy enough though? I had been miserable at the time. There was only one way to find out...
"No," I said, raising my wand, "I've got one. Expecto Patronum!"
As before, something silvery shot out of my wand across the room, but this time it didn't fade.
"It's a deer," I said. At least I thought it was; the creature seemed rather small.
Snape was watching it, an odd expression on his face. "It's a fawn," he said softly. He seemed perturbed, which I found unsettling.
I watched as the small creature scampered around the room. As it came closer, I could see its features in more detail. Snape was right; it was a baby deer.
"No wonder you don't like it," I said, feeling disappointed.
Snape looked sharply at me. "What makes you think I don't like it?"
"Your expression." I shook my head. "Would you want a baby animal?"
He stared at me, clearly deliberating about something. "I think," he said finally, "if I show you my own patronus, you'll understand."
I frowned. "What do you mean?"
Snape raised his wand. "Expecto Patronum!"
A strong silver wisp shot out of his wand and immediately morphed into an elegant creature, which pranced around the room. My heart fluttered a little when I saw what it was.
"A doe," I said quietly. It was simply beautiful.
My brother inclined his head. "A doe," he confirmed, his eyes fixed on his patronus.
"Is this usual?" I asked, feeling confused. It was contrary to what I had read about patronuses. It wasn't overly common for family members to have the same animal.
"No," Snape admitted, turning back to me. "It does happen, but not often."
"So will it stay a fawn?"
He nodded. "I'd say so. Patronuses can change, though it's a rare occurrence."
"What makes them change?"
Snape hesitated, his eyes on his patronus again. "A number of factors," he said quietly. "Bereavement, love, or perhaps a major emotional change in a person."
I didn't push the subject. My brother didn't quite seem himself. Truth be told, I was rather astonished that his patronus was a doe. It just didn't seem to fit with his character. But then, I wasn't sure what animal I'd have guessed for him.
I looked back at my fawn, which seemed to have grown in confidence and was prancing around the room, though not at the pace of the doe.
"Your patronus isn't making a comment about your ability or size," Snape said finally. "Perhaps your patronus would have been different, had we not found out we were related. My theory is that, given the events of your life over the last few months, your heart has settled on sharing the same animal as me."
That made sense, though Snape still seemed perturbed.
"And...you're bothered by that?" I asked tentatively.
Snape looked back at me, a frown on his face. "Why would I be bothered by it?"
"You seemed...disturbed by it," I said finally, feeling uncomfortable.
He stared at me for a moment before shaking his head. "No," he said, "not disturbed, merely surprised."
It did certainly seem to saying something about my relationship with my brother.
"I just wish it wasn't a baby," I said, watching as my fawn stood in the middle on the room, its tiny tail moving slightly. My brother's doe had slowed its pace, still circling the room. Suddenly, my fawn took off at high speed and ran right through the doe.
Snape raised an eyebrow. "Well, it's certainly not to be underestimated."
We watched as the fawn turned and pranced around the doe, before running through it again, making the doe fade a little.
"It's mischievous too," Snape commented, raising an eyebrow at me.
"I'm not mischievous," I countered, watching as the fawn now chased after the doe.
"Of course not," he drawled. "Only where mysterious puddles are concerned."
I smiled at him. "That was a worthy investigation and not influenced in any way by mischief."
He rolled his eyes, as he renewed his patronus. "I beg to differ."
We watched as the doe turned and chased after the fawn, who wisely scampered off in the other direction.
"Hey!" I exclaimed.
Snape merely smirked in satisfaction.