Chapter Three : Legacies
Maeve woke up early the next morning and just lay in bed with her eyes closed.
This hasn't been a dream, has it? she wondered, cracking one eye open. The stained-glass windows set in the dormitory walls were ablaze with fresh morning sunlight, visible even through the canopy and hangings covering her four-poster bed. Maeve sat straight up, her heart filled with joy. An old-fashioned alarm clock near one of the other beds in the girls' dorm began to ring; Maeve checked her watch and saw that it was eight o'-clock. Figuring it was time for her to get up, she twitched aside the bed hangings and hopped out of bed, hearing stirs from the other students in there. Gary, perched on the windowsill, turned a shiny black eye to her, then peered meaningfully at the window.
What, you want to go out? Maeve wondered. I don't know if I—Oh, let him, came Carlota's voice, sounding muffled by pillows. It's okay. She leapt to her feet and went to the window, unlocking and uncranking the casement. Gary slipped out and took wing, flying silently over the dewy grass.
He always likes to go out in the morning, Carlota explained, appearing between the bed-hangings. It's a bird thing. The other students in the dormitory had started to get up as well, roused by the ringing alarm clock. All, Maeve noticed, except one—the girl on whose nightstand the clock stood. Faint snoring was still audible from behind the hangings, and Amaryllis Jackson stalked over to the bed and yanked the hangings open.
she cried in exasperation. The sleeping girl gave a start and rolled over. Come on, get up! You don't want to be late for classes your first day at Hogwarts, do you?Ah! I'm up, Erica grunted, sitting up hurriedly. Wh—what time is it?It's only eight, Amaryllis said, returning to her corner of the room and opening her trunk. Honestly, what would you do without me? How did you manage to sleep through the alarm clock?I dreamt it was a telephone, Erica explained sheepishly, standing up and stretching. I had a dream I was visiting my grandpa Tony's house—he's a Muggle She stifled a huge yawn, and her eyes fell upon Carlota. Hey, aren't you a Slytherin?
Carlota glanced over, suddenly very self-conscious. she began, but Maeve stepped in.
Yeah, but she spent the night here because Professor Snape—is he the Head of Slytherin?— Erica nodded— thought that it would be safer for her here. Don't you remember how when she was Sorted last night, the Slytherin table pitched a fit?
Erica thought for a moment, rubbing sleep out of her eyes. Oh, right. Her. She looked up again. Where's your bird? Carlota answered, still seeming very shy. Maeve went over and put a hand on her shoulder.
It's all right, Carlota! We're not a bunch of genetics-obsessed gits like the kids in Slytherin. We don't hate you just because your parents are Muggles.I couldn't understand some of what they were saying, Carlota admitted after a few more moments of silence. I think they were calling me names, like—like mud-blood
Larissa Larsen gasped and turned half-around, still buttoning up her white shirt. Those hypocrites! They're such a bunch of— She went on to use a few more descriptors that made Carlota squeak; Maeve knew that, as easygoing as her parents were, she would be heavily disciplined if they ever heard anything like that come out of her mouth. Looping her necktie under the collar of her shirt, she explained, Mudblood is a very strong derogatory term for someone with Muggle parentage. It's about as bad as things like— She listed off another set of words, some of which Maeve didn't recognise, but the ones she did made her face go warm.
Good God, Erica muttered, looking embarrassed. I don't even swear like that, and I have Tourette's Syndrome!
Maeve looked up. Oh, you do? Do you have the swearing tic? I thought it was really rare.
Erica's face brightened. Oh, brill! You actually know what Tourette's is?Yeah, there was a boy who went to my primary school who had it. He was nice and really smart, but got annoyed whenever people called Tourette's Syndrome that swearing disease'. All he did was blink a lot, and occasionally roll his pencil between his fingers for a minute at a time.
Erica nodded. I don't actually have coprolalia either, but I've a horrible temper, and I've been known to say things that make Mum threaten to wash my mouth out with magic.So don't say them around your parents, Larissa suggested. That's what I do.
The ceiling of the Great Hall was a faint, clear blue colour, mirroring the morning sky outside. Sunlight streamed into the eastward-facing windows as Maeve, Carlota, and the other girls trooped in to have breakfast. Ivy was standing at the Fataluma table, handing out slips of parchment to students standing around her. Maeve waved and ran over, trying not to trip on the hem of her robes; they weren't over-large, but would take some getting used to. Ivy smiled.
Have a good night's sleep? she asked, riffling through the sheaf of parchment in her arms. Ah, here we are— She handed Maeve a small scroll. This is your course schedule for this term. Maeve took it and scanned down the list, excited. Her first subject was Potions (why didn't they just call it Alchemy?), in a room she realised was one of the dungeons. Carlota peered over her shoulder, then glanced up at Ivy. Before she could say anything, Ivy explained, Professor Snape isn't back yet, but he's supposed to get here any— She looked up, past the black-haired girl, and nodded. There he is now.
Carlota and Maeve spun around; Snape had, indeed, just entered the hall, wearing the same flowing black robes he had been in last night. It didn't look as if he had slept at all; there was a darkness around his eyes that was almost balanced out by the glow of his face—was that pride?—and his shoulder-length hair, which had been partially tied back the night before, was now pulled back in a full ponytail. He approached Carlota, brushed a stray strand of hair from his face, and smiled in the manner of an uncle regarding his favourite niece.
I trust your first night here was all right? he asked. There was a choking sound behind Maeve, and she spun around to see Ginny slam down her glass of orange juice. Maeve rushed over to pat her older friend on the back, waiting for her cough to subside, and leaned over her shoulder.
What's wrong?
Ginny twitched. What's gotten into Snape? she hissed. He's—he's almost acting like—a person.Yeah, seriously, muttered a boy across the table from her. I think he actually washes his hair now, too.
A girl on his right side put down her forkful of kipper. D'you know, I heard he was gone a lot during the summer—a few of the teachers were talking about how he hasn't planned his lessons for this year as thoroughly as he used to.
Ginny snorted. I bet I know where he was. Glancing up at her fellow Gryffindors' expectant expressions, she went on, Ever since he killed Professor Dumbledore on accident a couple years ago, he's been a bit different—I don't know if I'd say sorry, more like worried that someone's going to be displeased with him if he doesn't treat Dumbledore well from now on.what? You think he's Dumbledore's personal bitch now? the boy across from her asked. Maeve wanted to stay and listen to the gossip, but Ivy reached over and pointed out that there was a plate sitting on the Fataluma table for her, and if she didn't fill it soon, the other students would take all the food.
Professor Snape, leading Carlota, brushed past them as Maeve sat down. Ivy watched him, inhaling deeply as if taking in a scent. she called after him, and he paused to glance back at her. Where did you go?
He looked for a moment as if he wasn't about to answer, but then the corners of his mouth twitched slightly upward, and he responded, Turning away again, he led the black-haired girl between the tables to the one beneath the Slytherin banners, where a mass of students were waiting for their course schedules.
Maeve sat down and helped herself to some food, just as a great rustling filled the Hall; she looked up and noticed that dozens of owls were pouring in through the windows, owls of all sizes and colours, bearing envelopes and packages. Erica, noting her stunned expression, leaned over and explained, Owl post.
There was a thrilled cry from Ginny, who was seated behind Maeve at the other table, and Maeve twisted round in her seat. Hedwig! That's Hedwig! The red-haired girl leapt up, hands outstretched, to the beautiful snowy owl gliding down toward her, which had a tiny dark box clutched in its feet. Hedwig dropped the parcel in Ginny's hands and landed gracefully on the table, sampling some of the bacon on Ginny's plate. Ginny fumbled with the box, the other students watching her, and there was a collective gasp. Maeve scrambled to her feet and peered between Ginny and her neighbour, and gasped as well: It was a jewelry box, holding a beautiful diamond-and-carnelian engagement ring. A glimpse of movement, and a rippling murmur, directed everyone's eyes to the great doors, where a young man had just strode calmly in: Tall, wiry, and with a mess of black hair, he scanned down the Gryffindor table until his eyes found Ginny. She squealed and dashed to him, and he caught her in a tight embrace. A few people in the Hall cheered.
Maeve heard him ask.
Ginny responded, kissing him fiercely all over his face. Maeve glanced over to the Slytherin table and saw Carlota looking happy for the couple, while Professor Snape turned away with definite disgust.
Ivy breathed behind Maeve, who's that? Maeve know she wasn't talking about the newly-arrived Harry Potter—who was now chivalrously slipping the engagement ring onto Ginny's finger, and being surrounded by students tossing out praise and congratulations—but the handsome man standing behind Harry like a bodyguard, with black hair that looked like it fell to the middle of his back. Some distance behind him were a young woman with vivid pink hair and a nondescript fellow who, though still reasonably young, had visible silver streaks in his hair. Ivy made as if to approach them, but before she could move, Ginny had taken Harry by the hand and was leading him back in the direction of the the Gryffindor and adjacent Fataluma tables. The three adults followed behind Harry, occasionally glancing around the Hall; the students, though eager and thrilled, parted readily to let the little group pass. Maeve, feeling shy, bent over the table to pour herself some orange juice as various students along the Gryffindor table exchanged greetings with Harry; she even noticed Hagrid come down from the staff table out of the corner of her eye.
said Ginny's voice abruptly behind her; Maeve nearly jumped, but turned around smoothly, trying not to seem too nervous. Ginny and Harry were holding hands, and Ginny's face was glowing with joyous exuberance. I want you to meet my fiancé, Harry Potter. Harry smiled and offered his other hand, and Maeve hurriedly put down her glass to shake it. This is Maeve Kerrigan, Ginny explained, the girl who's so unique they had to create a new House just for her. Harry said. I wondered why there was another table in here. He looked up past her, and Maeve had to duck out of the way as Hagrid engulfed him and Ginny in a hug, sounding very much like he was sobbing as he spoke to them.
Harry, it's—it's good ter—see yeh—! He sniffed loudly, and Harry returned the embrace by patting Hagrid's shoulder, which was about as far as his arm could reach. Maeve felt mildly concerned for Ginny, who was no longer visible. This's—I'm so happy for yeh—both of yeh—an' I'm sure yer parents would be so proud if they could see yeh nowThanks, Hagrid, Harry said, politely extricating himself and Ginny. A red crease ran up one of Ginny's cheeks where it had been smushed against Hagrid's thick waistcoat, but she looked just as happy as ever. Maeve glanced past them, and noticed how sad the pink-haired woman and gray-haired guy seemed to be beneath their happiness. Feeling a sudden surge of pity, she pushed past other students (as well as Ivy, who was asking the black-haired bodyguard his name; he seemed incredulous that she hadn't recognised him immediately); she stuck out her hand to the young woman, whose hair was just as anime-ish as Ivy's, and introduced herself.
the woman said, returning the handshake. Wotcher, Maeve. I'm Tonks. She jerked her head back over her shoulder, and the man flanking her stepped forward. This is my husband, Remus.Remus Lupin, he elaborated, shaking Maeve's hand as well. I take it you're friends with Ginny? Maeve nodded. If you ever need help with your Defence Against the Dark Arts homework, he advised her, she's the one to talk to. One of the best students I've ever seen when it comes to hexing and counterspells. He smiled, but his eyes remained slightly sad. I'm glad she and Harry found each other. I wish them the best of happiness. Tonks made a noise that sounded like a sob, and Maeve turned to her.
Are you all right? Is something wrong? The young woman shook her head, but her eyes were filled with tears.
Remus whispered, putting a hand on her shoulder. Hush, it'll be all right She sniffed and leaned back into his embrace, still looking upset. Maeve knew better than to press for details, so she went back to her table and finished breakfast.
As she was about to leave, Harry returned to her table after a round of handshaking and congratulations among the staff (except Snape, who had turned the other direction and pretended Harry wasn't there; Harry, however, didn't seem to mind that fact at all). Hey, can I talk to you for a minute? he asked Maeve, gesturing toward the entrance hall.
I suppose so, as long as I'm not late for my first class, she said, allowing him to lead her out into the corridor, where a few students were making their way to their lessons. Harry headed straight for a tapestry on the wall; she followed, slightly confused, and watched as he lifted one edge and revealed a hidden door.
In here, he said, holding the door open for her. It led to a tiny, dark hallway, at the other end of which was a small room filled with a weird glow that seemed to emanate from a few of the stones comprising the wall. Don't worry, this won't take long.
I get the feeling from Ginny, he explained to her as he rummaged through his cloak pockets, that you're the one I should pass—this—onto. He dug out an ancient, tattered piece of parchment, folded roughly into squares; it looked as if it were about to fall apart. Seeing her bemused look, he grinned and went on, It's something I got from her older brothers, Fred and George—infamous troublemakers when they were at school, ask anyone here—when I was in my third year. I've been wondering what I should do with it—I figured it needed to be passed on to the next generation, but I didn't know if I should make someone my successor, or what. Here, I'll show you what it does— He knelt on the floor, and she bent over next to him; Harry unfolded the scrap, which turned out to be quite large, and pulled out his wand.
Here's what you do, he instructed, glancing at her. Tapping the parchment with his wand, he said, I solemnly swear that I am up to no good. Maeve watched, amazed, as lines of ink appeared and spread across the page from the point where his wand had touched; the lines formed into words along the top and an intricate pattern spread across the middle. It was a map of Hogwarts.
You see here, Harry said, pointing at the names at the top, Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs? They're code-names of former Hogwarts students. Prongs was my dad's name. Moony and Padfoot were his friends Lupin and Sirius—they came with me today— Maeve nodded. Anyway, they made this map while they were at school, and it shows every detail of the castle and grounds, right down to the cabinets in Filch's office. Maeve peered closer, and noticed that the dots covering the map were moving, like tiny ants. And it shows locations of people, too, and their names—see? Here we are. He pointed with the tip of his wand, and Maeve saw that there were two tiny ink figures close together in a room, one labeled Harry Potter, the other Maeve Kerrigan.
That's brilliant! she gushed, impressed. Does it show animals and stuff, too? Harry answered. And anyone who's invisible or under the effects of Polyjuice Potion shows up as normal, too. He noticed the half-formed question and elucidated, Polyjuice Potion lets you disguise yourself as someone else, but it doesn't fool the Marauder's Map.I see, she said.
And when you're finished using it— he said, tapping the map again, you say, Mischief managed'. As he spoke the words, the ink on the parchment vanished, leaving it quite as blank and useless-looking as before. You've got to remember to do that, or else anyone can read it. He folded it back up, rose to his feet, and presented it to Maeve.
You're—you're just giving it to me? she asked, awestruck.
Well, yeah. I'm done with school—I don't need it anymore. she whispered. Not a problem, he demurred, grinning. I'm sure Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs would have been just as happy making sure it was seeing use with the next generation ofshall we say, nonconformist Maeve returned his smile, elated. Oh, the exploring she was going to do!
As they left the room, Maeve paused and turned back to Harry. Oh, there was something I noticed, she said. Tonks and Remus looked happy for you and all, but it seemed like they were really upset about something, too. Are they okay?
Harry smiled gently. You're a very kind girl to care, he said. Don't tell anyone I told you this—they don't want it getting out—but Lupin, that is, Remus, has aand he and Tonks want to have children, but they're terribly worried about whether their kids would inherit it. He thought for a moment. It really seems to be bothering Tonks, though. She never used to cry about it. Hmm He shrugged. Well, don't worry about it, but it's good to know that you care. Glancing at his watch, he said, It's about ten minutes to the first bell—you'll want to head to class. They exited the hidden door, and Maeve waved goodbye as she tucked the Marauder's Map into her robes. I'll see you around! Harry called.
Maeve's first class—Potions—was, indeed, held in a dungeon. She was surprised to see that the Fataluma first-years had it the same period as the Slytherin students; she immediately went to sit down next to Carlota, who was frowning as she studied a potion recipe in her textbook. Gary sat on her shoulder, peering down at the page, and occasionally emitting a soft croaking sound. A Slytherin boy seated behind Carlota made a noise of disgust.
Why isn't that bird in the owlery where it belongs? he sneered.
He's not an owl, Carlota responded, not raising her eyes from the page. Gary clicked his beak. No, we're not making this potion today—look at the ingredient list! Did you even see powdered mungscale in Diagon Alley? I'm just looking at it! He tossed his head and clucked.
Why do you talk to that thing? asked a girl down the bench, with a sharp face and short yellow-brown hair.
She can communicate with birds, Maeve said firmly, leaning back to stare at the other girl. Why, are you jealous?I don't care if she can communicate with aliens, the boy behind them growled, it shouldn't be here with—Now, Joseph, said Snape's voice from the back of the classroom, there is no rule against having animal companions in class. He swept up to the head of the room, looking better than he had on arrival, though still obviously sleep-deprived; his hair was brushed, and he was wearing fresh-pressed black robes of a different cut. You wouldn't want to have to leave your pet with the owls, would you? Joseph looked furious; apparently he had expected Snape to side with him. Now, then, the professor went on, addressing the class. You will not need your wands in this class. The art of potion-making is very subtle Snape continued his description, his voice low but very clear, and all the students sat in silence, listening: Maeve thought it sounded fascinating, but kept being distracted by the jars of oddly-shaped objects floating in murky fluid that were placed all around the room. Carlota had closed her book and was taking notes; Maeve didn't even notice that Snape was staring at her until he called for her attention. Carlota had to poke her.
What is your name? he asked. The Slytherin boy behind her sniggered; clearly, he was hoping to see her lambasted in front of the other students.
Um, Maeve, she said quickly. Maeve Kerrigan.Miss Kerrigan, Professor Snape said, leaning on his lectern and regarding her with his cold black eyes, the study of Potions is one which you will likely require throughout your time at Hogwarts. I recommend paying attention.
She blinked and nodded mutely. He straightened up, glanced around the room, and asked, Can anyone tell me what happens when ground Coprinus micaceus is added to a boiling solution of weak tea and Pholiota fungus?
Pholiota? Was that anything like Hypha Facia? Maeve cried, her hand shooting into the air. Snape looked very surprised, but gave her a prompting look. That's easy! It's a Drain Fatigue potion.
Snape's eyebrows rose higher; Maeve sensed the other students in the room staring at her back. The professor cleared his throat.
And may I ask, Miss Kerrigan, where you learned that piece of information? She stopped. If Professor Snape was a full-blown wizard, without technological experience, how would she explain that the computer game Morrowind had taught her everything she knew about alchemy? from a She paused uncomfortably. computer gameA computer game, he repeated, and several of the Slytherin students chuckled unpleasantly. I believe that is a form of Muggle entertainment, yes? She nodded. the game could have been wrong, she said in a rush, trying to save face.
Or it could have been created by a wizard, he said, the faintest hint of a smile quirking his mouth. I am surprised. I have never given Muggles much credit for understanding the ways of magic, but every so often they surprise me Yes, indeed, Coprinus micaceus and Pholiota, when combined in the proper proportions and under the right conditions, form a potion known as the Elixir of Awakening, which dispels fatigue more effectively than caffeine. Maeve opened her mouth, about to point out that drain fatigue' in Morrowind meant the opposite of what he was talking about, but stopped herself. She furtively glanced around the room, and felt a strange surge of pleasure at how thunderstruck most of the Slytherin students were that she hadn't been shot down. The exception was Carlota, of course, who looked quite impressed.
Professor Snape strode around his desk and slid the top off a small, shallow chest. The ingredients you will need are in here, he explained, and I recommend taking no more than is necessary for one batch, as there will likely be a few students who do not succeed on their first attempt. If you are one, there is no need for concern: This potion will not be graded; it is merely an assessment. He glanced around the room, ignoring the fact that most of the Slytherin students looked scandalised, and finished with, The recipe can be found on page 189 of your textbook. I expect everyone to have a sample ready by the end of the hour. He turned, cloak swirling behind him, and sat down behind the desk. Students began shuffling up to collect bits of the mushrooms in the box on his desk; Maeve overheard Joseph, the boy who had been sitting behind her and Carlota, ask Snape (in a rather pointed tone) if he was feeling all right, to which he received the reply Quite well, thank you, and was waved back to his bench.
The professor seemed quite oblivious to the whispered comments shot about the dungeon for most of the period; Maeve gradually gleaned that, in past years, Snape had been known to show special favour to the students of his House, and the new crop of first-years were quite annoyed not to be receiving such treatment.
Alchemy was nowhere near as easy as Morrowind made it out to be. The mushrooms had to be ground into a fine powder using the mortar and pestle—a difficult task, even with the fruiting bodies dried and crumbly—and she accidentally left the tea-strainer in her cauldron a minute too long, making her tea slightly stronger than what was described in her textbook. Irritated, but determined to prove she knew what she was doing, she poured the powdered Coprinus into the murky mixture simmering in her cauldron, stirred it anticlockwise, and was impressed when the liquid turned a clear lavender colour, like the sky just before dawn or just after sunset. She checked the recipe; that was what it was supposed to do. Curious, she ladled out a spoonful and tried it; it tasted a bit like grape Fanta, a bit like herbal tea. It didn't seem to make her more alert, though. I need a retort or a calcinator, she mumbled, thinking of Morrowind: They were tools in the game used to make potions more potent. She went back to scanning the recipe, seeing if she had missed something, and hadn't noticed Snape passing by her desk as he wandered the dungeon, checking the students' progress.
What was that, Miss Kerrigan? he asked quietly. Did I hear you expressing a wish for additional equipment? she said, glancing up. I, er—
Snape moved around to the front of her desk and sampled the elixir in the cauldron. Very good so far, he said, but the tea tastes a bit strong. You may want an alembic apparatus rather than a calcinator He moved back to the cabinet against the wall and returned with an object constructed of tubes and round flasks, which he placed on the desk next to her cauldron. Pour your potion into this well and heat it. Distillation for about— he took another taste— five minutes should drive off the excess tea. He peered into Carlota's cauldron and nodded approvingly. I see you are coming along as well, Miss Phoenix. However, you may want to spend a little more time grinding your mushrooms in the future: I can pick out individual pieces, which means the Coprinus has not been fully dissolved into the tea infusion. She mumbled something, and he raised a hand. Don't apologise; this is only your first day.
The other Slytherin students were watching Maeve and Carlota with nothing short of loathing at this point. Maeve was sure they wouldn't do anything while the professor was present, but worried what she and her friend might have to endure after class ended. She tried not to listen to the mutinous muttering behind her, hoping that if something happened, a teacher would intervene. What was that Ginny had said about Slytherin House? Every dark wizard or witch in the last hundred years has come from Slytherin, including Voldemort. Maeve had noticed that Ginny and Ivy, unlike most of the other magic-users she had encountered so far, did not refer to the infamous and recently-defeated Dark Lord Voldemort by a euphemism like , as if they were afraid of being heard, like naming the Dark One from Wheel of Time. Maeve didn't understand; the bloke was dead at this point—Harry had killed him, Ginny and Ivy had told her—so what did it matter if you said his name? Force of habit, most likely, she thought, as she decanted her potion and began to distill it. Snape returned to the head of the classroom, brought out a well-worn set of alchemy equipment from a cabinet behind his desk, and began to make his own potion. He was done well before any of the students began bringing up their samples, leaning back in his chair and sipping the purplish brew as if enjoying a morning cup of coffee. Carlota and Maeve came up together, Carlota with an expression of shock on her face.
Professor—you—you're not going to test all these samples yourself, are you—? she asked, concerned.
Well, how else would you suggest I evaluate them? he asked conversationally. I appreciate your concern, Miss Phoenix, but I assure you my knowledge of potion-making is sufficient that I have little worry about the adverse effects of the minor mistakes that can happen on a student's first day. I purposely selected this recipe because there is very little that can go wrong. He took a sip from his tankard. Also, because I received very little sleep last night, he added in an undertone, and a hint of a smile flashed across his face for some reason.
The next person up to the desk was Joseph, and Maeve turned round to see that most of the other Slytherin students (save two, who appeared not to care one way or the other) in the room were clustered behind him. Shove off, Mudblood, he grunted, pushing his way between her and Carlota, and slamming his vial of potion onto Snape's desk so hard it was a wonder it didn't shatter. he shouted at the black-haired man. We demand to know what you've done with Professor Snape! The professor's eyes had narrowed with Joseph's imprecation to Maeve, and at this second outburst, he set his tankard of Elixir of Awakening down with a deliberation born of cold fury.
Calm yourself, Mr. Farquhar, or I'll be forced to take points from my own House, he said in a soft and dangerous voice. This seemed to anger the students even more.
Who are you, really? asked the sharp-faced girl, whom Maeve thought was named Elisabeth. Taking Polyjuice Potion or something, are you? You can't fool us!And you would know this how? You cannot have known me all your life, Snape shot back in the same low tone. Perhaps you've heard tales from previous Hogwarts students? Hoped to be put in Slytherin House because its Head irrationally favours his students above all others? Well, I'm sorry to inform you, Miss Penfell— and he rose slowly from his chair to glare down at them— that people change. Perhaps you, too, will learn manners someday. Glancing at the shocked and angry faces staring up at him, he continued, I'm afraid I'll have to deduct twenty-five points from Slytherin for thischeek. Five for each one of you. Maeve and Carlota shuffled sheepishly back to their bench to get their things, and jumped as they heard Snape slam his hands down on the table and bark, Whether you agree with my teaching methods or not, the fact remains that I AM the teacher, and you must accept that! Now turn in your samples and make sure you are not late for your next class! The other students deposited their vials on his desk, glowering, and many of them glared at Maeve and Carlota as they passed, as if everything were their fault. And, lest you forget, Snape added, noticing this, Miss Phoenix is a member of your House, and I expect you to treat her at all times with the courtesy she is due. Fail to do so, and I will know. Carlota looked mildly embarrassed; Maeve heard her muttering something about causing trouble, it wasn't necessary, really, she was used to this sort of thingStop it, Maeve directed. I don't know who it was who made you think that your feelings don't matter, but they do! If you don't learn to stick up for yourself, I'll do it for you. Gary cawed, it almost seemed, in agreement, and this more than anything seemed to lift Carlota's spirits as she packed up her things and headed off to her next class, which was unfortunately not the same as Maeve's. Maeve bid her friend goodbye before a moving staircase and hurried off to Defence Against the Dark Arts.