Payback and Punishments
Even though Arista tried to keep it quiet, somehow the other Ravenclaws found out
about her fight with Brittany. When she returned to the common room to do her homework before dinner, she found it abuzz with angry girls and boys.
Mel took one look at her eye, which had begun to turn an odd purplish color despite the arnica salve, and promptly swore a few blistering oaths in gutter Cockney that would have done a Cheapside sailor proud. "Oooh, what I wouldn't give to hang that mangy miserable marsh rat upside down and beat her with a broomstick." There were murmurs of agreement from nearly everyone.
"Why, Melinda Seton! Where did you learn such colorful language?" Arista asked, grinning.
"From my Nuncle Pete, dearie," Mel answered. "'e usta work th' shipyard, an' Oi picked it up from 'im. Jus' don' nivver let my mum know, she'd drop dead, that she would!" Then she winked and doubled over laughing.
Arista joined in, and so did most of the other girls. At length, they regained control over themselves. Roger Davies, who was the Ravenclaw Quidditch captain, walked over to her and said, "Let's see your war wound, Snape. Ah, it's a nice one, but I heard you kicked her right on her butt first."
"I did. The only reason I got this was because she cheated."
"Of course she did!" Roger said. "She's a Slytherin. They all cheat. It's the only way they can win."
"My father's not like that," Arista said loyally. "Or Drake Lockwood either."
"I meant everyone except him," Roger said hastily. "And Lockwood's all right. Pity he's surrounded by such colossal idiots."
"But what are you going to do about Marsh Face?" asked a first- year softly. "You're not gonna let her get away with this, are you?"
"No way. But I'll deal with her in my own time. Trust me," Arista stated.
"Is it true you made up a poem about her?" asked Linda MacKenzie, a third-year.
"Tell us!" urged Roger.
Arista recited the poem and had half the kids in stitches, and the other half cheering.
"I've got to write that down," Mel cried. "Anybody got a quill?"
Ten hands thrust quills at her.
Despite Arista's insistence that she would deal with Brittany in her own way, the Ravenclaws decided to exact their own brand of revenge on her behalf. The next Ravenclaw vs. Slytherin match was on Saturday. When the announcer introduced the Slytherin team, and Brittany Marsh flew out with her bat on her Nimbus 2001, the entire Ravenclaw section stood up and began singing at the top of their lungs, led by Mel:
"All hail Brittany Marsh, Queen of the Fen!
Slithering snakes and scorpions are her friends. . . ."
Brittany was so furious she nearly dropped her bat, and she narrowly missed being nailed by a Bludger, because she was too busy screaming at the Ravenclaws to shut up instead of paying attention to the game.
The song became so popular, it was known as the Ravenclaw fight song, immortalized forever in Hogwarts history, with various names being substituted for Marsh's over the years.
Unfortunately, potent as that humiliation was, it did not stop Brittany and her gang from persecuting other students, like Drake, Mel, Tricia, and Kit. Those four were not the only ones they targeted, but they got the lion's share of the abuse.
It made Arista even more furious at the stuck-up Slytherin girl, but she had no chance to even the score between her and Brittany until two weeks later. It was by pure chance that she happened to be down in the dungeons, stopping by to ask her father whether he had heard from Remus Lupin yet.
When she arrived at Snape's classroom, however, the door was locked and the professor was nowhere in sight. A group of Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs were gathered there, waiting for him to arrive for class. Among them were Ron Weasley, Harry Potter, and Hermione Granger. There was a friendly rivalry between Arista and Hermione,
as the two competed for the top grades in their classes. At this time, Arista was slightly ahead of Hermione, or so Professor Sinistra had told her two days ago.
Even so, Hermione waved at her as she approached them. "Hey, Arista."
"What's up, Hermione?"
"We're uh, waiting for Professor Snape to get here. Any idea where he is?"
"Haven't got a clue," Arista shook her head no. "But he may be meeting with Ludo Bagman and Bartemius Crouch, they're running the Triwizard Tournament."
This sparked off a debate about the Triwizard Tournament, and who would be the Hogwarts Champion and what kinds of tasks might be set for the three representatives. While this was going on, the portrait hole to the Slytherin common room opened and Brittany stepped out of it, hastily shoving books into her schoolbag. She was clearly late for class.
Arista eyed her the way she would have a poisonous snake, with wariness and extreme dislike. Brittany hadn't noticed her yet, she was too concerned with getting past the knot of students in the corridor.
"Outta my way, maggot!" she snarled, shoving rudely at Neville, nearly knocking him down.
Neville shrank away from her. "Sorry, I didn't see you."
"Maybe you'd see better if you borrowed Potter's glasses, Longbottom," Brittany sneered, looking down her aristocratic nose at him. "Then again, maybe not. You're too dimwitted to see straight, so glasses wouldn't make any difference."
She laughed nastily at her own wit, then pushed past him. Only to be brought up short by Arista who walked deliberately in her path. "What's this? Who gave you permission to be down here, Ravenclaw chick?"
"Who says I need permission, Marsh? It's a free country." She crossed her arms over her chest and glared at the taller girl.
"Only in America. Which is where I'm going to send you if you don't move outta my way." Brittany threatened.
"Pardon me, Your Majesty," Arista said, giving her a mock curtsy. "You know, we got rid of tyrants in America two centuries ago. Maybe it's time somebody did the same thing here." Her words were pure challenge.
Brittany exhaled slowly. Then she bared her teeth in a feral smile. "You just don't learn, do you, Snape? Must breed them dumb where you come from. Move, before I clock you one in your other eye."
Arista pretended to step back a bit, shifting her center of balance. Brittany gave her a supercilious look. Then Arista said sweetly, "I don't think so, Marsh. Where I come from, I don't take lessons from tyrants. I give them!"
She drew back her right fist in a movement almost too quick to follow. Before Brittany could even register the fact that Arista was actually attacking her, the former Hunter's apprentice had thrown a punch with the whole weight of her one-hundred-and-ten pounds behind it, as well as two weeks worth of pent up anger.
Her fist connected with Brittany's perfect teeth and such was the power of her blow that the Slytherin girl was lifted off her feet and sent flying a good six feet down the corridor. "That's for my eye and Lockwood's stutter. Next time watch your mouth, Marsh Maid."
The other students gaped at her. "Bloody hell, did you see what she did?" muttered Dean Thomas.
"I didn't know a girl could hit like that," whistled Justin FinchFletchley.
Brittany was slowly sitting up, a dazed expression on her face. Her mouth was dripping blood. She lifted a hand to it. "My tooth! I think you knocked out my front tooth, you Yankee guttersnipe!" she whimpered.
"Well, maybe that'll improve yoah looks, since y'all are kin to a swamp rat anyhow," drawled Arista in her best down-home Texas accent.
Brittany started to get to her feet, murder in her eyes.
"I'd stay on the ground if I were you, Marsh," Arista warned, doubling up her fist again. "Unless you want to drink your meals through a straw."
"Why you little—!" Brittany began. She never finished her sentence.
"What on earth is going on here?" inquired a familiar voice. Everyone froze. It was McGonagall, coming to return a text she'd borrowed from Snape's office.
"Is there a problem here?" asked a soft deadly voice from the door of the Slytherin common room. Snape stood silhouetted in the doorway. Unknown to the students, he had seen Arista send Marsh flying down the corridor.
Brittany turned to him eagerly. "Professor, she attacked me for no reason! She knocked out my tooth!" She indicated Arista with her finger, a gloating look in her eyes. "Look at what she did!" She removed her hand from her mouth to show a neat gaping hole in her once-perfect smile.
I am looking. That was as sweet a right hook as I've ever seen, Snape thought admiringly. Unfortunately, Minerva saw it too. Which means I'm going to have to punish both of them, even if Arista had good reason for hitting her. He fixed both girls with his famous glower.
"Miss Snape and Miss Marsh! Hogwarts students do not brawl in the corridors like London fishwives!" McGonagall scolded. "This is totally unacceptable behavior, wouldn't you agree, Professor Snape?"
"Totally unacceptable," he repeated, making his tone cold as winter. He pinned Marsh with his stare and the girl immediately lost her smirk and looked uneasy. "Detention is in order, I believe. For both of you."
Brittany looked liked she'd been hit in the head with a Bludger. "Detention? Me? But, Professor, she started it—"
"Did I stutter, Marsh?" Snape demanded. "Detention, tomorrow morning at 7 o'clock in my office."
"But, sir, that's Quidditch practice!"
"Is it? Too bad. You'll have to miss it, I'm afraid." Brittany opened her mouth to protest again, but he cut her off. "Complain again, Marsh, and I'll make it two Saturdays. Want to go for three?"
"No, sir." She turned away then, disbelief and hatred written all over her face.
"If I were you, Marsh, I'd let Madam Pomfrey look at your mouth," McGonagall said tartly, then walked up to Snape and handed him the volume she had borrowed. "Thank you for this, Severus. It was most useful. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have my own class to teach." She strode back up the corridor.
Brittany scurried after her, looking like a whipped puppy.
Arista felt like cheering for a minute, until she recalled that she too was in trouble. She caught Ron and Harry exchanging glances of mutual amazement.
Then Snape whirled on his disobedient daughter. "As for you, Miss Snape, you can see me at 11 o'clock tomorrow morning." The look of disapproval he threw her made her flinch.
"Yes, sir," she murmured, not meeting his eyes. Oh God, he's really furious. Am I in for it now. Unlike Brittany, she knew better than to argue over punishments. That only made it worse. Better to take it and get it over with. She dared not ask him about Lupin now.
Snape turned, pointed his wand at his classroom door, and unlocked it. "What are all of you standing about like idiots for?" he barked. "Get inside and sit down." Then he stalked through the door.
The rest of the Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs began to file inside, not wanting to risk the Potions Master's temper. Only Ron and Harry lingered for a moment, casting Arista looks of mutual sympathy coupled with astonishment.
"I've never seen him give detention to one of his own House before," Harry said wonderingly.
"I have," Arista said. "Only that time it didn't involve me. I'm dead. He's gonna kill me."
"Aw, come on. Surely he won't punish you that badly," Ron said.
"You're kidding, right?" Arista laughed. "This is my father we're talking about. He's
got standards higher than God. And they all apply to his daughter."
"Potter and Weasley!" Snape bellowed. "Do you need a personal invitation?"
The two boys jumped guiltily. "Gotta run. By the way, Arista, that was bloody brilliant, the way you made Marsh fly through the air." Ron said, then hurried inside.
"He's right. Where'd you learn to punch like that?"
"Two years of self-defense lessons with Colin Flynn, Dark Hunter combat master," Arista answered. "Better go, before he comes out here and drags you inside by your ear."
"Right. See you," Harry said, then ducked inside the dungeon.
"Ah, so Potter has finally decided to join us," she heard Snape say. "Do you think just because you're famous that gives you the right to ignore my instructions, Potter? Ten points from Gryffindor for your lateness and your attitude!"
Arista sighed and made her way out of the dungeons. Maybe confronting Brittany hadn't been such a good idea after all. Then she recalled the dumbfounded expression on the Slytherin girl's face after Arista had hit her. It had been priceless. Worth even a detention with her father. I wonder what he's gonna do to me? Then she shrugged. I'll worry about that tomorrow. Right now I want to savor this moment, the moment when that pig Brittany got what she deserved for once. From me and Dad too. She thinks he's gonna go easy on her, the dumb twit. But he won't. Not after she tried to weasel her way out of her punishment like a coward. He detests cowards. She'll find that out the hard way, and serves her right.
That same morning, Mel and Arista were partners for their Potions lab, working on making the difficult Decongestion Draft. Arista, who'd had first-hand experience with taking the horrible potion as well as familiarity with the formula from the summer, wasn't all that worried about concocting it. She and Mel chatted amiably as they
ground handfuls of aconite in their mortars and mixed it with essence of lavender, nettles, and shredded willow bark. There were about a dozen ingredients in this potion, and each of them had to be added at just the right time.
"I wonder if there are any hot boys in that Durmstrang school?" Mel speculated, adding the willow bark to the cauldron first and giving it three clockwise stirs.
"Could be. And if there are, they're probably starved for some female companionship." Arista said, measuring out two teaspoonfuls of cherry bark syrup.
"Think any of them will ask me out?" Mel asked in a whisper.
"I don't see why not. You're just as good as Marsh or any of her court princesses," Arista said. She glanced down at her recipe. It was time to add the nettles. She tipped them into the cauldron and stirred vigorously. The mixture bubbled slightly and turned green, giving off an acrid odor.
"Ugh! Is it supposed to smell like that?" Mel asked, wrinkling her nose.
"Yeah. And it doesn't smell half as bad now as it does when it's done, trust me." Arista said, shuddering slightly at the memory of how awful it had tasted. She returned quickly to discussing the possibilities of Mel dating one of the Durmstrang boys.
Snape walked around the room, inspecting everyone's potion thus far. Normally, Arista would have been alert to his approach and stopped talking to Mel before he got to their table, for she knew how he hated idle chatter in his class. Students should be focused on the lesson at hand, not what they were going to do later on. But that
morning they were so engrossed in their discussion that they forgot to watch out for him.
Severus looked up from inspecting Marjorie Worth and Emma Barton's cauldron to see his daughter and her best friend with their heads together, giggling and whispering about something that was obviously not their Potions lab. His mouth tightened to a grim line.
"Miss Snape!" Severus's voice cut like a whip. Arista jumped about a foot, then glanced around guiltily. "Would you like me to take twenty points from Ravenclaw for conducting meaningless chatter during my class?"
"No, sir." She could feel his arctic glare from three feet away.
"Then might I suggest you shut your mouth and finish your experiment?"
"Yes, sir. Sorry, sir." She quickly glanced down at her potions manual, her cheeks burning. She felt like kicking herself. She hadn't even served her detention yet and here she was making him even more angry at her.
He came over to examine their cauldron. "Passable, but only just. You need to grind that aconite finer, you're not making a milkshake here. You'd know that if you were reading and not giggling like a pair of geese," he said scathingly.
Both girls hung their heads, for they were not normally the recipients of scoldings from teachers for not paying attention. Mel immediately set to work regrinding the aconite.
Satisfied his reprimand had sunk in, Severus moved on to the next table.
Mel finished grinding the aconite to a fine powder, then scribbled a note in the margin of her assignment book and passed it to her friend.
What's up with him? I've never seen him jump down your throat that way.
Arista cast a quick look around, making sure her father wasn't looking in her direction.
Then she wrote a reply on her own assignment book.
He's in a snit 'cause I broke the First Commandment of a professor's daughter: Thou shalt not get in trouble at school. I punched out Brittany this morning.
Awesome! Why didn't you tell me before?
You were busy studying for your Astronomy exam. I made the hag fly without a broom.
Only problem was—he saw it. He gave me detention.
Mel gaped at her. Then she added the aconite to the bubbling mixture. It turned a kind
of deep green color, the way the manual said it should be. Then she picked up her quill again.
That really sucks. No wonder he snapped at you like that.
But he gave her one too!
Get out! Seriously?
Yeah. And something tells me he'll probably nail her butt to the wall.
About time! What do you think he'll do to her?
No idea. But I hope it's something utterly humiliating. God only knows what he's going to do to me.
You'll survive. I hope.
Gee, thanks. Real encouraging, Seton.
I try. Tell me everything later.
Arista nodded, then added the teaspoons of cherry bark syrup to the potion. "Now what?"
"It says, let simmer for five minutes then add the extract of menthol," Mel consulted
their text. "Nasty! I hope this thing works, because I'd hate to drink something that smells this bad for nothing."
"It does, but it leaves the most disgusting aftertaste in your mouth."
"You've drank this stuff?" Mel looked like she was going to gag.
"This summer, after I rescued a mermaid, I nearly came down with pneumonia from
being out in the rain too long. Dad brewed this up and made me drink it." Arista grimaced.
"Yuck! I'd of puked."
"I almost did. But the damn stuff works. One minute I was coughing my lungs up and
the next I was sleeping like a baby. It knocked me right out. And when I woke up I was fine, not even a sniffle."
"I'd almost rather have pneumonia," Mel frowned down at the potion. "It looks like
swamp water."
"Tastes worse. Pray you never have to drink it."
"Believe me I will," Mel said fervently. Then she smirked thoughtfully. "Any chance
we could sneak some of this stuff over to the Slytherin table? I'd love to slip a good dollop into Brittany's pumpkin juice."
Arista's eyes lit up. "Nasty, Seton. I love it." She rummaged for a moment in her potions kit. "Ah ha. My mini flask." She quickly filled the flask up with the Decongestion
Draft. Then she tucked it out of sight in her kit. Revenge was sweet.
"Time's up." Snape called, then he came around to inspect their final solutions,
marking their results in his grade book. "Worth and Barton—C. You might be able to cure a sneeze, but that's all. I'd do better drinking chicken broth. Fletcher and Clifford—D. The text says ground aconite, not chopped, Clifford. Do you have difficulty reading English? No? How about following directions? Failed that in preschool, didn't you? I wouldn't give this to my dead dog."
Arista and Mel held their breath as the Potions Master approached, parchment in hand and quill poised. "Snape and Seton. Finally managed to stop babbling, I see." He peered at their potion, gave it a stir with a spoon. "Consistency, could be thicker. A bit darker than normal, you used a drop too much lavender essence. Otherwise, this is workable. A-."
Mel gave Arista a high five.
"I wouldn't be celebrating so soon, Miss Snape," Severus interrupted. "You still owe
me a detention, young lady. Eleven o'clock tomorrow morning."
"Yes, sir."
"Homework. Two rolls of parchment on the properties of phoenix tears and how they
react when mixed with the following substances—dragon's blood, snake venom, chimera saliva—sit down Mr. Anderson, I haven't dismissed you yet!—and bugbear fur."
There were the predictable groans over their homework, but at last they finished
scribbling it down and were free to leave. There was a mad scramble for the door.
* * * * * *
Arista entered his office at precisely eleven o'clock. He glanced up from the current
batch of exams he'd been grading and said, "Close the door and sit down."
She did so, coming back to sit on the small chair in front of his desk.
He set down his quill. "Not here two months and already in trouble. Disgraceful. I'd
have expected that sort of thing from a troublemaker like Potter or the Weasley twins, but not my own daughter. Such behavior is completely unacceptable, Arista Snape, is that clear?"
"Yes, sir."
"I don't ever want to hear of anything like this occurring again, am I understood?"
"Yes, sir."
"Good. Because if you ever earn a detention from me again, you'll be very sorry. That
much I can promise you. I won't have it said that my daughter goes around breaking rules left and right whenever it suits her. Best learn to control that temper of yours, my girl, before it gets you into more trouble than it's worth. Have you anything to say?"
She nodded, then she straightened to attention like a soldier on parade review and said quietly, "I'm sorry I embarrassed you, sir. But I'm not sorry I punched her out. I'd do it again if I had to."
"Well. At least you're honest. Actually, I'm not sorry either. She had it coming."
"Then why--?"
"Why am I giving you detention? You ought to know the answer to that."
"Because not even a professor's daughter is above school rules."
"Excellent. Do me a favor and remember it. That being so, " he rose to his feet and
beckoned her out of the office. "Here's your punishment. In that cabinet over there," he
indicated a large low cabinet along the far wall of the dungeon. "are various potion
ingredients. You will take them out, label them, and put them back neatly and in alphabetical order."
She stared at the cabinet in dismay. "In one hour? But that's impossible! It's going to
take me a month to do all of that."
"Whatever you don't finish today, you can continue with next Saturday."
"But—that's not fair!" Arista cried. "Did you give Marsh some impossible task too?
Or did she get off just because she's in Slytherin?"
"I don't discuss detentions with students." Snape said frostily. "Furthermore, no one
who serves detention with me ever gets off easy. Otherwise, what would be the point? You don't like it? Then don't get in trouble. Now quit whining and get started." He picked up a box of parchment labels from his desk and handed them to her. "You may use a sticking charm to put them on, but otherwise no magic allowed. And write neatly, I'll need to be able to read them."
She took them sullenly and walked over to the cabinet. Then she opened the door and began to take out all of the various jars, bottles, beakers, boxes, and bags. She just hoped she'd be able to identify them all. She set them down in front of her. Then she began the long, arduous task of identifying and re-labeling.
She mentally called Brittany Marsh every bad word she knew. Then she glanced up
to see what her father was doing. He appeared to be reading homework essays, pausing every so often to mutter something and write comments with his green quill. Why does he have to be such a damn perfectionist? She thought irritably. He as much admitted that I had good cause for punching the snot out of her, so why give me the assignment from hell as punishment? Well, okay, maybe it's not all that terrible, but still. Everyone makes mistakes. I'll bet even he got detention a few times when he was in school. Strange, but he'd never really discussed his days at Hogwarts with her. It had never occurred to her to wonder why, until now. Something told her that perhaps he'd never talked about it because something bad had happened, something he wanted to forget about. It was the same with his childhood. He rarely spoke about it, and then he only mentioned his mother.
Something Colin had said to her flashed in her head. Your mother told me once that
he didn't have a real good childhood, so he's going to do his best to make sure you never get hurt the way he was. All fathers are overprotective of their daughters. She chewed her lip thoughtfully as she wrote bezoar stone on a label. Is that why he invented this punishment? Because he's trying to keep me safe from Brittany? If she were here, under his eye, she wouldn't be out there, at liberty to get pounded by her archrival.
Then she thought about how surprised Harry and Ron had been that he'd given a
Slytherin detention. It was only natural that the Heads of each House would dislike taking points from their own, for not only would it cost them the House Cup, but it also reflected badly on them as teachers, like they couldn't discipline their own students. And look who he's got to work with—the biggest bunch of snots, brats, and sneaks in the whole school. I'd never want to be Head of Slytherin House. Wonder why he is? Maybe because he's the only one that could handle 'em. Slytherin had won the House Cup over seven times in a row before Harry Potter had come to Hogwarts, that was a matter of record. But how many times had they won it before her father became Head? Not many, she'd wager. They've won because he pushes them. Just like the way he does the rest of us. And himself. Yet he'd not hesitated to slap his star Quidditch player with a detention, in fact, he'd been furious that she had dared question him about it. She knew the other students all assumed it was because of her that he'd come down hard on Brittany. Part of it was, she knew, but she suspected he'd been looking for an excuse to punish Marsh for a long time now and hadn't been able to catch her in the act. Arista wondered anew what he'd given the other girl as detention.
She had emptied out about a third of the cabinet and it was already twenty minutes into her detention. The only sound in the room was her father's quill scratching softly across the parchment. She picked up a beaker of what was supposed to be gorgon's blood, only when she'd removed the stopper, she found it had gelled to a sticky lump and was now unusable. Some of these ingredients were getting too old to be used.
"Um, am I allowed to talk during this detention, or are you giving me the silent treatment too?" she asked, glancing up at his desk.
He set down his quill and looked at her. "What is it?" he asked, and his voice was not
angry.
"Some of these ingredients are past due. You need to get some new ones. The
gorgon's blood has gelled and the puffball skeleton has crumbled to dust."
"It's been awhile since I've taken inventory of that cabinet. Make a list of the things
that need replacing. When you've done the entire cabinet, we'll take the list and go shopping for whatever we need."
"Really? You mean, go shopping off the grounds?" she inquired eagerly.
"No, I'd thought we'd hold a bazaar on the lawn," he rolled his eyes. "Of course off
the school grounds. Did you think we weren't able to leave? This isn't a prison sentence, you know," his voice gentled further. "You may come with me if you want."
"Sure," she agreed. Was that a hint of wistfulness in his tone there at the end? Could
he want to spend time with her, and was using this excursion as an excuse? Yes, that would be like him. "It'll be my first chance to see something besides the four walls of the castle in over a month. And you know how I love shopping, Dad."
"I know. It's inherited, I think." His mouth twitched into a smile. "Your mom used
to drag me all over Diagon Alley and London shopping for everything, but mostly shoes." He cast his eyes heavenward. "I learned more about shoes in six months than I ever did in my life, God help me."
Arista giggled.
"Think it's funny, do you?" he gave her a mock-glare.
"It is. Just the thought of somebody making you do something you didn't want to."
"Your mother could usually persuade me to do anything with her," he admitted. "And
I do plenty of things I don't want to, believe me. Make that list and keep sorting that cabinet, young lady. Or else you can kiss that shopping trip goodbye."
"Yes, sir." She summoned a blank piece of paper from off of his desk and began
writing. "Am I allowed to buy anything on this shopping trip?"
"Such as?"
"A book," she hedged.
"The new Fantastic Beasts compendium?" he guessed shrewdly.
"How'd you know?"
"I've been known to wander into a bookstore a time or two myself. Tell you what. If
you behave yourself from now until then, I'll buy you it. But only if you behave, young lady. Fair enough?"
"It's a deal. I'll be an angel," she promised.
"Right."
"I will," she insisted. "You'll see. I'll prove you wrong, for once."
"Do it then," he challenged. "Oh, before I forget, did I sign your permission slip for
Hogsmeade? That's coming up in another two weeks, I think."
"Yeah, you did that already. Before I came here. Hey, Dad? Did you hear from Remus
Lupin yet? Did he try the potion?"
"As a matter of fact I got a letter from him yesterday." He rummaged about on his
desk.
"And? Did it work?"
"Read it for yourself."
She took the piece of parchment and scanned it rapidly. Then she let out a shriek. "I did it! Did you see what he wrote?" she was grinning from ear to ear. "He shapechanges, but he's himself, just like an Animagus. And one dose is good for three months." She gave another yell of delight.
He winced. "You're my daughter, all right," he acknowledged, and the look of pride
in his face was unmistakable. "Now will you please stop screaming? People will think I'm beating you or something." Then he added, "After the trial period of three months, I think we can let other Potions Masters and Mistresses try the recipe. I'd like to test it out myself."
"Be my guest. It's not quite as good as a permanent cure, but it's a step forward."
"Well, you know what I always say. Practice makes perfect."
She groaned. "Dad, please."
"All right. Break time's over, miss. Now get back to work. What letter are you on?"
"F, I think."
"At the rate you're going, you won't see that book until Christmas, if that," he said
gruffly. Then he turned back to grading his papers. She turned back to her sorting and
labeling. She could feel his smile without turning around. It matched hers identically.
At last the hour was up. "How far did you get?" her father asked.
"Through H. And here's the list so far." She handed him the list of missing
ingredients.
He scanned it rapidly. "Most of these aren't too hard to find. But you still have the
rest to go through. Same time next Saturday."
"I'll be here, sir."
"You'd better be. Now go on, get out of here. I'm sick of the sight of you."
"And I'm starving," she said and turned to go.
"Arista?"
"Yes, sir?" she turned back to look at him.
"Answer a question for me. That song you Ravenclaws were singing at the Quidditch
match. Who wrote it?"
She hesitated a moment before replying. "Me."
"Did you really?" she couldn't tell if he was amused or angry. "Well, go on, what are
you waiting for?"
She went, shutting the door almost all the way. Then some instinct made her peek
through the crack in the door.
The Potions Master had his head on his desk, his shoulders shaking uncontrollably with laughter.
A/N: Sev uses standard grades--A, B, C for his potions experiments, not the OWL standards, which i think are specially reserved for them like our SATS. So what did you think of Arista and Marsh? Any ideas on what Sev gave Marsh for detention? You'll find out in the next one! *smiles slyly*