Severus's first day back at school after three long and straining weeks of holidays was marked by a remarkable absence of teasing. In fact, when he arrived at the Great Hall's giant entrance doors, he was able to push himself through a huge crowd of students without being called a 'jerk' or a 'twit' even once. He settled down at the Slytherin table all by himself and put his hand in his pocket, where Pebble, the grey stuffed dragon, was curling up in the palm of his hand, making small, vibrating movements, as though purring in silence – and satisfaction.
Moments later, another boy appeared and sat down to Severus's right side without requesting permission.
"You haven't seen it, have you?" he remarked. Severus gave his friend Timothy an astounded look.
"What?"
"The notice board is full of recent changes," replied the other boy. "They have revised all school rules over the holidays. Just like that. All of a sudden. Dumbledore has put up a list of new rules. Apparently, he is going to tell us the details after the feast, but the list's already there. New rules, new punishments, new official rights. It's awesome!"
"What's it say?" enquired Severus curiously, still stroking the purring dragon.
"I didn't get round to reading it all," said Timothy gloomily. "A sixth year pushed me away. But apparently we get to visit Hogsmeade from time to time. As a sort of reward for being good. You know what I mean?"
Severus shook his head. Timothy laughed.
"Smartass," he said. "Anyway, it is officially allowed to use magical objects in the corridors now. Cause they're not our own magic. Only we're not allowed to use anything that might harm others or is written down on the list of prohibited objects… Dumbledore and Filch devised a list, apparently, which is as long as a giant's elbow. Marlene told me about them…"
"Marlene McKinnon?"
For the first time, Severus's curiosity was picked. "What business does she have talking to you?"
Timothy blushed.
"Tim," said Severus sweetly, his lips curling into a disbelieving sneer, "she is a Gryffindor. You cannot go out with her."
"Oh, come on!" snapped the other boy impatiently. "Just because they're different from us doesn't mean they aren't incredibly good-looking! Plus, I am approaching fourteen. A crucial age. I need a girlfriend, or my status will be ruined for the rest of my life."
Severus hesitated, then shrugged. Being considerably younger than his classmates, he found that his interest often concerned topics that were very unrelated to Timothy's and the other third year Slytherins' interests. The subject of girls, for one, was not something Severus liked to discuss.
"Have you seen any… other Gryffindors?" he thus changed the subject somewhat nonchalantly. Timothy gave him a meaningful look.
"No. Not yet. But they're here. They're this term's second sensation. You know what happened to Balbina, don't you? And all the details?"
Severus had not. Timothy told him.
"You will realise," Dumbledore completed young Nott's account a little while later, "that in spite of the dangerous and very tragic events of last term, some of your basic rights have been extended and no further limitations have been introduced to your everyday situation. This, I believe, is necessary to oppose the impression of insecurity and restlessness, which has befallen us all in recent months. Most of the culprits of Mull have been caught and imprisoned, I am happy to announce, but we need to realise that we are not fighting against a group of lunatics gone wild here. The world is changing – and its people are changing as well. Opinion is opposing opinion within the Ministry of Magic at the moment and it is only a matter of time until a substantial decision is made concerning the future of our society. In order to not subject Hogwarts to the arbitrariness of the Wizengamot's decisions, I have effected a few changes in the school's relation with politics. I am delighted to tell you that the Minister for Magic and the school governors have now confirmed that the full responsibility for the school's future and internal organisation falls upon myself now, hopefully for a long time. Therefore, starting today, a few… misfits within Hogwarts's terms and regulations will cease to at least directly affect you. We, that is –" he turned and pointed at his fellow staff members respectively, "Professors McGonagall, Sprout, Flitwick, and myself have devised a simple system, by which future achievements will be awarded and rule-breaking opposed. Professor, if you would care to explain…?"
Professor McGonagall raised from her seat, as though she had rehearsed this moment.
"We have introduced a system of 'House Points'," she informed the mass of students spread all over the Great Hall. (Severus wrinkled his nose, mainly because everyone else seemed to do so.) "As of this moment, all teachers are authorised to award or take away points from each of the four houses in cases of exceptional achievements or rule-breaking, respectively. How often and how many points this includes will depend on your behaviour and your academic efforts. This method will replace the more outdated forms of punishment that are still officially in use at this school, which date from I daresay a century even before your parents were born."
Severus got the impression that, at this, she threw a nasty side-glance at the right-hand side of the staff table. He could not tell for sure, however, and could not imagine anyway at whom she would be glaring in a situation such as this. Dumbledore was wearing his usual polite smile.
"At the end of the year," Professor McGonagall concluded, "a prize will be awarded to the house with the most points. We will test this system and if it works out as planned, no further changes will be made. Thank you."
She settled down again. Severus thought she was being rather abrupt, but it dawned on him that his Transfiguration teacher was not necessarily used to addressing huge amounts of students, Deputy Headmistress or not. The only one talking was usually Professor Dumbledore.
"You're staring at McGonagall as though you were going to leap at her any moment," Timothy informed his friend quietly while tucking in the fantastic dinner that appeared on the table in front of them at this moment. "Careful, or she might notice your crush."
"I was just –" began Severus, but stopped. He realised just in time that he was being had on. Timothy chuckled into his pasta.
"You know," he said thoughtfully after a while, "it's only a few weeks till the exams. That's a pretty good chance to get that prize she was talking about, don't you think? I wonder what it might be…"
"Probably just a stupid book," Severus muttered. "Hogwarts a History or something."
"Don't be an idiot," Timothy hissed. "It's gotta be something you can award to an entire house. Probably some new decoration for the common room or something."
"Boring," retorted Severus, starting to chew on a slice of pizza. "Even more boring than a book."
"What would you want?" Timothy enquired. Severus considered for a moment.
"Liquorice," he eventually said, putting on a dreamy expression. "And… oh, and access to the Restricted Section of the library. For some real-value reading."
Timothy laughed. "Rubbish," he said. "You don't want a book, but you wanna go to the library?"
"I have to be picky," Severus muttered. "Besides, if I could enter that section, no one would be able to vanish my homework while I'm working."
"Don't start that again," replied Timothy warningly. "You know McGonagall doesn't like being lied to."
"Well," snapped Severus indignantly, "I don't like her being a right old hag and I don't go reminding her of it. Besides, it's not a lie! Only the other day, I -"
"Severus," interrupted his friend, a bit sharper than before, "just… don't start any fights again, okay? Not this term. Not right before the exams."
Severus did not grace him with a reply. It was useless. They all were.
A few days later, Severus and Skein were standing in front of Professor McGonagall's office again, ready for another of her tedious remedial lessons, which usually took place in the Transfiguration classroom, but had been moved to the professor's office for convenience reasons. Severus had half intended to ask his friend to join him within the Deputy Headmistress's realm but then realised it was impossible. He hated offices. Being inside them made him feel small and worthless. But it was for this reason, Skein had told him, that he had to go by himself. Skein could not come along when Severus felt horrible. He could not bide with him when Severus had the impression of falling back several years into his childhood and the worst moments of the early days. Skein never felt that way. He would not be useful in this.
As always, Severus was overcome by a wave of icy loneliness when he pushed the office door open and slouched inside. Finding Professor McGonagall in a considerably bad mood did not help. She had built a pile of books on her desk, which was otherwise crammed with parchments and important-looking items, such as an inkwell, which changed its colour every now and then, and an oddly shaped hourglass that looked as though someone had made several attachments to it in order to allow the sand to flow in all sorts of directions, not just vertically.
"You are late," the professor snapped indignantly as Severus approached her. "Almost seven minutes. Sit down!"
Severus sat. A last glance at the door behind him told him that Skein had left altogether now and at once, his limbs gave their usual impression of being tied to the chair, which made the giant desk in front of him appear even larger.
"I know we haven't had a lesson for a while," said the deputy headmistress, not looking up from a letter she was reading. She sounded tired and entirely distracted. "Let me see…" she put one of her quills in front of him on the desk and pointed at it. "A simple wooden stick, please, Mr. Snape, to warm up."
Severus stared at the quill in front of him. Something icy had got hold of his neck and was breathing over his shoulder.
"Baculo," Skeins voice whispered in his ear and Severus's hand began to shake.
"B-bacolo," he attempted, realising the moment his wand finished the simple movement that the spell would backfire. He ducked, and a greenish flash missed his hair by a few inches.
"Good to see that you have quick reactions at least," Professor McGonagall muttered, putting the letter aside. Her mind still seemed elsewhere. She had not even flinched.
"I am sorry, Professor," Severus muttered, finding that his body was still not quite under his control.
"Another attempt, please," replied the professor crisply. "It's a question of the right wording, is it not?"
Severus nodded.
"I believe you have not come as far as phonetic resemblances in Study of Ancient Runes?" Professor McGonagall enquired.
"The Professor told us that a single deviation of the initial intonation can cause the opposite of the desired effect," Severus whispered. "And… and Professor Flitwick mentioned in Charms that leaving out an entire syllable can cause horrible accidents…"
"He would know," the professor said quietly. "His brother once accidentally blew himself up while trying to make a feather fly. Not particularly talented that one. Survived, though. At least until the war…" She stopped. "Another attempt, please," she said suddenly, giving her voice a sharp, very demanding sound. "Like so: Baculo!"
The quill in front of them turned into a long, thin, wooden stick. Severus felt his stomach cramp. "I…"
"It is quite easy," said Professor McGonagall firmly, tapping the stick with her wand again, which made it turn into a quill again. "You don't even need the 'one, two, three' bridge. Just pronounce the spell properly. The wand movement was fine."
But Severus was still staring at the place from which the stick had just disappeared.
"Mr. Snape," McGonagall said impatiently, "what is it?"
Something inside Severus gave a soft cry.
"Baculo," whispered Skein's voice again, louder than before. "Baculo! Bend over! I'll teach you! Accio cane! Bend over, I said! You will count!"
When McGonagall's hand touched his neck (softly, granted, but with a certain supportive firmness), Severus felt his surroundings go entirely black. He suddenly was no longer in control of his body or his mind…
"I think I am getting positively sick of students coming in with this kind of injury, don't you agree?"
Madame Pomfrey's voice was never as quiet as you might have expected from a nurse who was standing in the middle of an infirmary.
"I agree that what this looks like is not suitable for a modern society," came Professor McGonagall's tired voice, "but I am afraid I have neither the time nor the intention of discussing this matter here, at this time of the night. I will come back when he is well again. And don't you allow him to skive off lessons tomorrow. I expect to see him in Transfiguration – and to be punctual. You can tell him that."
Severus opened his eyes.
"Professor?" he asked, more out of reflex than a desire to talk. "Professor McGonagall?"
There was a brief pause. Two voices exchanged a few, whispering words, and after that, the deputy headmistress approached Severus's bed with a somewhat more concerned look than her voice had given away only minutes before.
"How do you feel?" she enquired.
"Good," mumbled the boy. What had happened?
"You had… an accident," said the professor quietly. "There is something… wrong with your mind. Something neither Madame Pomfrey nor I can quite put a finger on."
"I'm not mad!" Severus protested. "Who said…"
"No one said you are, Mr. Snape," replied Professor McGonagall tiredly. "However, something is clearly wrong. You fainted in my office, do you remember? You react to a mere touching of your neck as though you were about to be subjected to a horrible curse, which is a little… no, which is far too much like the way your father used to react to the same procedure, only for what I hope were different reasons from yours…" The words suddenly seemed to pour out of the black-haired witch without her being able to restrain herself. "Mr. Snape… would you please tell me that you are not afraid of a stick and an adult as soon as you are inside an office?"
There was a small, but meaningful break.
"No," said Severus firmly, almost sharply, after a small while. "I am not afraid."
The deputy headmistress heaved a very perceptible breath. "Good," she said, smiling. "I'd suspected – for a moment there I thought… I was worried…"
"There is no need to worry about me!" Skein remarked, folding his arms across his chest while leaning back on Severus's pillow. "Professor," Severus added quickly. "I mean to say… I am just simply not… it's not that I actually fainted. I was more… I was absent, you see?"
Another pause occurred, in which the deputy headmistress gave her youngest third-year an extremely scrutinising look. "I think you ought to catch some sleep now," she said quietly. "I do not need you to give me a justification of your behaviour, but I need Madame Pomfrey to have a look at your physical condition to make sure everything is basically in order. Other than that, I think you ought to concentrate on your classes now – and on the upcoming exams. Have you been successful with your revision so far?"
"Well, yes…" Severus felt a little undecided what to reply to this. Surely the professor was not talking about Transfiguration? She knew how far he had come – or not come.
Professor McGonagall nodded and left. There was nothing more to discuss.
"She is trouble," Skein remarked. "Always meddling in affairs that are none of her business. What is she going on about?" – "I think she means well," replied Severus quietly. "Plus, she's the only one who can get me through the Transfiguration exam in June." – "Why did you faint?" Skein enquired curiously, probing Severus's neck. Severus recoiled. "Don't! I'm fine! I was… I don't like that spell, okay? And I just, don't like remedials. There is nothing more to it!" – "Yeeah, sure," sneered Skein. His expression was becoming increasingly unpleasant. "Why don't you just admit to her that you are afraid of the office?" – "I'm not!" Severus tried to sit up, unsuccessfully. "Besides, it is none of your business!" – "You are weak!" Skein teased. "And you know that if she ever finds out she'll despise you and stop trying to help. If she knew you aren't prepared to take responsibility for your actions, just imagine how she'd react… how she'd hate you." – "I HATE YOU!" Severus suddenly flared up. "I can't stand to look you in the face! You don't know what you're talking about! You don't know me at all, and still you judge me as though I'd allowed you to! You think I need you? I am going to be powerful! More powerful than any of them! More powerful than father! And then you'll see! They'll all see!" – "You think you don't need me, do you?" whispered Skein dangerously. "You think you are powerful without me? Who is going to help you out all the time then? Who is going to think of witty replies for you? Helping you with your essays? You know I can see what people are thinking and that you can't do it without me. You are never," and at this he leaned just a little closer towards Severus's face, "going to be powerful without me. You need me!"
Severus was lost for words and there was a small pause.
"I don't need you," he whispered eventually. "Go away, Skein." – "Don't," was the simple reply. "You know that I will." – "Yes," replied Severus coldly. "This is the end."
There was another silence, which lasted longer than the first. The hospital wing suddenly seemed dark and empty. Severus glanced at the lengthy window-shaped shadows on the floor, created by a waning moon's aggressive beams.
"Skein?" he whispered into the darkness.
There was no reply.