Studies

"…so they would have used carpets. I mean, I would have used them. Broom activity is always, always recorded within the Forest. And, quite honestly, carpets are much more comfortable, if you have a hostage."

"It seems particularly wise to announce your feelings about this matter to the entire library," Malfoy said quietly, frowning at his cousin's incensed recount. "Why don't you ask Madame Pince for a voice-strengthening spell so the entire school can hear what you have to say on the subject?"

Bellatrix opened her mouth to reply something, but thought the better of it and turned, instead, to her younger sister, who was sitting a little away from them, studying a book on wizarding history for her final exam.

"Cissy," she said in a slightly lower voice than before, "pst. Hand me your notes."

Her younger sister sighed, as though for the umpteenth time today. "Why? It's not as though you weren't in seventh year. What good…"

"Just hand them over!" snarled her sister indignantly. Lucius gave his inkwell a bored tap.

"Fine!" scowled the younger girl, shoving some of her parchments towards her older sister. "But I really don't know…"

"I hate making notes," said Bellatrix nonchalantly. "It distracts me from learning."

"It is designed to help you learn," Lucius remarked.

"Well, it distracts me," replied his cousin sourly. "I can't write and listen at the same time."

"You're supposed to learn how to do it by practising it," observed Lucius. "If you've never tried, no wonder you are unable to catch up now."

"There is no sense in it!" Bellatrix snapped, suddenly as loudly as before when she had spoken about the Knights' attack, so that suspicions concerning her and Lucius's involvement with it would be crushed once and for all. "Where will I ever need that particular skill? I do not need to practice multi-tasking. I am a witch, for Merlin's sake. That covers the matter entirely."

"Witches are no better at multi-tasking than Muggle women," remarked a boy's voice near to where Lucius was sitting. Three heads turned, including Narcissa's.

"No," replied Bellatrix dangerously upon recognising which sassy third-year had entered their conversation, "but witches are a lot better at it than wizards, young Snape. You would know all about that, of course."

"Severus, what are you doing here?" enquired Lucius earnestly, feeling he ought to live up to his Head Boy badge a little before leaving Hogwarts once and for all. "As far as I know, your schedule doesn't feature any free time this afternoon, does it?"

There was a small and awkward pause.

"Flying's off," the younger boy then replied, fully confident that this time his lie would not be detected. Lucius raised an eyebrow.

"Like last week?" Bellatrix enquired. "And the week before?"

"I was there the week before!" Severus protested. "That was before the Quidditch match! I fell off only twice!"

"You are still skiving off," Lucius observed. "Why?"

"I'm not," Severus said defensively. "I just… I am the only third-year still attending the regular lessons, and…"

"I completely understand that," Bellatrix said smugly, leaning back. Lucius frowned at her.

"Don't encourage him."

"I'm not," said his cousin. "But I can sort of see why it would be embarrassing for him to attend flying lessons now… with all the first years. He was the only one in his year not to have passed the test after ten months of lessons, am I right?"

"The only person in five or six years, actually," Lucius replied.

"And the first pureblood in a century," Narcissa contributed. "Probably."

Lucius noticed that at this, Severus's face assumed a somewhat pink colour and the boy started rummaging in his bag, probably for books. He threw a questioning look at his cousin Bellatrix, who had started searching her own bag and was now producing a small bag that contained several items, none of which Lucius could identify with certainty, except for a small mirror, which the lanky witch held several inches away from her face and then squinted at, probably to test if she was still present.

This action seemed to meet not much favour with her younger sister, who discovered her sister's action only moments later. For a second, it seemed as though she would merely scowl at Bellatrix. The older girl had taken out what looked like a small, black pen now, pointed it at her eyes, and carefully blackened the area around them. The action, in itself, however, seemed to be so familiar that the younger girl eventually let her hand drop flatly on the table, making everyone in her closer reach jump.

"Bella!"

"What?!"

"Hello? School rules?" Narcissa hissed. "No everyday make-up!"

"Sod the school rules," Bellatrix remarked, not breaking her concentration. "I want to see the teacher who'll reprimand me for a bit of eye shadow. Besides, you are a little too keen on rules, my dear. I've noticed that before."

"That's because they are there for a reason!"

"I knew you'd say that."

Lucius turned his eyes on Severus again.

"Go back to the commons," he said. "Go to bed. I'll let Madame Hooch know that you are feeling unwell."

"I was gonna revise a little…" the boy said quickly. "And I can't take this book…"

Lucius inclined his head. "Basic Legilimency? Severus! You are not revising!"

"Revise is such a strong word," the boy said quickly. "But I am broadening my horizon!"

"Legilimency is not for you!" Lucius hisses, trying instinctively to exclude others from the conversation. "I have told you before that only fools and extreme geniuses play around with it. Will you put this crap out of your head and concentrate on your homework? What about your essays?"

"I finished them!" snarled the boy. "And yes, even the stupid one on stupid reptile transfiguration!"

Lucius grinned. "Are you still having your little power struggle with the deputy headmistress?"

"It's not a power struggle!" Severus hissed. "I am merely trying to keep up with her nearly impossible demands!"

"Is she still giving you remedial lessons?" Lucius enquired.

"No," snapped the younger boy. "She stopped. Said that I obviously didn't need them any more after I handed in my last essay. Said I had got the hang now."

Lucius stared in surprise.

"Seriously? That's good news!"

"Yeah," snapped Severus, slamming his book on the table. He got up. "I know none of you thought I could do it, but there you are! That's just the first step of many!"

And he strutted towards the library entrance, not bothering to put away the book he had just occupied himself with. Lucius gave it a thoughtful look and then opened a random page, up to which Severus had clearly not come yet.

"…although difficulties can arise when the inherited talent is too great," the first paragraph read. "The young witch or wizard might find themselves confronted with serious problems of concentration, mood swings, and even schizophrenic tendencies. The skill of invading people's minds has been known to manifest itself in the form of a human being, often not unlike the young wizard or witch, who cannot be seen or heard by other people, but who is nevertheless there, as Bagnold proves in 1001 Wonders of the Modern Wizarding World (1941). This person will sometimes take control of the young witch's or wizard's actions, often, however, merely comment them. More and more, the young wizard's or witch's personality will split in two, with his or her personified Legilimency taking all commonly desired traits away, leaving a very weak and entirely helpless human being behind, who will quite often be unable to make a decision of any kind for her- or himself ever again.

To oppose this very unfortunate effect, it is suggested by Bagnold (1941, 24 – 49) that basic Occlumency and possibly even first steps of Legilimency should be taught to all aspiring wizards or witches, regardless their talent, to enable them to recognise the symptoms at an early stage. In a worst case scenario, the young witch or wizard will separate emotionally from their personified skill and…"

Lucius slammed the book firmly shut and returned it to what he supposed was its previous place within the library shelf next to where Severus had settled down.

"What's up?" Bellatrix enquired, whose face by now was heavily painted, though not unbecomingly. "Found anything else you haven't revised for yet?"

"I have covered most areas now," Lucius mumbled. "More than you, I daresay."

"I don't need to revise," Bellatrix grinned. "There's natural talent here. I'll just…"

And she went on explaining the various ways in which she planned to impress the examiners. Lucius gave her interested looks and the occasional nod, but could not help wondering if Severus was, once again, getting himself into something he would not be able to control. Legilimency sounded a dangerous field, although considering that most words of caution seemed to regard the 'highly talented witch or wizard' there was, of course, little chance that Severus fell into the category of high-risk patients.

Severus, meanwhile, had made his way down to the dungeons, as he had been told. Lucius was an ass, of course, but he had a point assuming that Severus's skiving would remain less suspicious if he was actually to be found in his bed instead of the library. He strolled through the dark, vaguely moist underground corridors of the castle trying to look paler than usual and a little sick. Just in case.

When he turned round the corner towards Slytherin house and Professor Fumes's office, he suddenly bumped into the one person who would not believe stories of sickness or unwell being when it came to his flying lessons. He suddenly stood face-to-face with his Transfiguration teacher.

Professor McGonagall regarded the boy before her for a few moments, looking quite surprised at his sudden appearance, before finally making up her mind to speak.

"Mr Snape…"

"Professor, I…"

There was a second's break.

"Yes?" enquired the deputy headmistress curiously. "You what? What is it, Mr Snape?"

"I don't feel well…" Severus said feebly. His teacher looked worried. Good.

"So I realise," she said quietly. "Did anything happen? Where do you come from?"

"The lib-… outside," Severus corrected himself quickly. Professor McGonagall frowned. "We had Flying," he continued to explain hurriedly. "And I… I was suddenly sick… I…"

"You missed your Flying lesson again?" the deputy headmistress sighed. Severus pointedly watched the tips of his toes.

"I'm sorry, Professor…"

"Not again!" said Professor McGonagall quietly, her voice sounding almost resigned, though not particularly angry. Severus suddenly realised how terribly factual she could be when she wanted. Straight to the point. And, of course, always right.

"It wasn't about… I didn't wanna skive off or anything," he said quickly. "I just felt…"

"…unwell. You told me," the black-haired woman cut in. "But you'll need to learn flying. Soon. Examinations are in four months time and you have a serious chance to receive extremely satisfactory grades this time. Are you going to spoil this by failing your flying exam yet again? Or worse, not turn up? You know what your father would say to that, do you not?"

Severus felt his hands cling to the inside of his pockets. He was still not meeting her gaze. "Yes, Professor."

"Would you like me to organise remedial flying less-…"

"No!"

He had known she would suggest it and resented the very thought from the beginning.

"Really, Professor! I am fine. I'll… Flying's going to be fine. As is the rest of the subjects. I'll continue to improve. Promise."

"Well, your overall attitude has certainly improved," said the professor approvingly. "I am inclined to trust you to take your studies into your hands now. But remember, if you have any problems, come straight to me." She hesitated, just for a second. "Any matter, in fact. If you feel Professor Fumes would be… unable to devote the necessary time to your worries, do not hesitate to come to me instead."

For the first time, Severus dared look up and into her pair of small, dark eyes, which seemed to regard him with rather more worry than usual.

"Yes, Professor," he said hesitantly, unsure what to make of her overly caring attitude. "I'll be sure to remember."

"Good," replied the Transfiguration witch. "Go and have some rest then. If things get worse, don't forget to let Madame Pomfrey know. You know which house-elves to call?"

"I think so," Severus said hesitantly. "Is it… Emmy and Rooter?"

"Those are the two you need," nodded Professor McGonagall. "They'll let the nurse know that something is wrong with you."

She smiled and left. For some odd reason, Severus felt compelled to smile back. He also noticed that for the first time in a long while Skein had not interrupted a conversation involving the deputy headmistress. But, of course, he had not seen the other boy for some time.

Nothing is wrong with me, he thought, trying to discover the deeper sense in these words. The professor meant well, he did not doubt it. However, it would have been nice to discover the exact meaning behind her words. Not for the first time, Severus felt that he missed some of the skills Skein had provided him with. Not a single book on the subject of mind-reading had granted him as much of an insight in what was going on in people's heads as the other boy's occasional remarks or, indeed, directly aimed searches.

Well, there was still time. He would learn. And life without Skein had certainly improved. All his marks were going up, except for Potions, where he had been rather successful for some time, of course. Even Transfiguration was working out, which was surprising to say the least. Severus felt it was partly due to the lack of Skein's constant interruptions and reminders of what would happen if he failed to accomplish his tasks in time and satisfy his teachers' demands – not to mention his father's.

Father… Severus had not thought about him for some time. But, of course, he had never stopped doing research on the Muggle line of what had to be his family. Father had refused to dive into the subject, of course, but Severus preferred not giving up quite so easily. Who was Tobias Snape? No book so far had helped him solve the question. Perhaps this was something to do next week… instead of Flying?