"Yes. How quaint. 'I've had eleven years of schooling thus far.'"
Argo's father mocked her angrily as they entered their new quarters. She could feel her face burning with shame. Tears would soon follow. She hated how easily he could make her cry.
"I'm sorry. I didn't know what else to say."
Romulus turned and scoffed at her.
"It's always attention with you. Your mother was the same. I've finally gained some proper notoriety, and you're on about 'eleven years of magical schooling.' How embarrassing. You want attention? Fine, you've got it."
With that, Romulus pointed his wand at his daughter and mumbled. In moments, her image became softer and softer until it sharpened again. She looked at least 5 kilos heavier than she had before. Argo blanched and looked up at Romulus incredulously. She'd worked so hard to get him to let her come across to others at an almost normal weight! Now she was going in the other direction. She hadn't actually gained any weight in reality, but the glamour seemed to weigh down on her back.
She listened to him continue to fume at her as she held her belly. It felt flat as always, but her hands came to rest on it before they should have. Would anyone bump into her and notice? She zoned out as Romulus slammed his bedroom door. She assumed this meant that she should not expect to be fed tonight, and went to her own room. She resized all her clothing and lay in her bed naked. Argo ran her hands all over herself, then. She felt her tiny breasts, her smooth, flat, too-thin abdomen. She felt her face, the bones sticking out. She felt her knobby elbows and her hip bones beneath the fake image he'd made. Then, she felt herself there. She ran a finger along her clitoris. Argo hated that she liked to come. It was one of the only ways she could get to sleep at night. She would touch herself and cry afterward. Pulling her hand away, she rolled over and tried to sleep.
Severus strode purposefully into his quarters but found no purpose upon arriving inside. His thoughts were on the new Arithmancy Professor and his daughter. How odd the two had been. Severus began peeling layers away from his body and approached the fireplace. By the time he had lit the fire, he wore his sleeves rolled up and his boots had been kicked to the side. He leaned against the hearth for a moment and soaked up the heat as his eyes glazed over.
It was clear to him that this wizard was not going to be an easy colleague or underling. He knew that any interaction with the man in a Deputy role would illicit argument and blunt insubordination. Severus was prepared for that. He wondered, though, what he wasn't prepared for. Again, his instincts and habits and hang-ups all came into play as he attempted to process the information he'd taken in and force it into more than it was. Why openly insult the muggleborn at the first meeting? Was he sending up a flag? Did he think anyone at this school would approach him in a friendly manner afterward? The chip on this man's shoulder seemed disproportionate to his circumstances.
Why embarrass his daughter? Severus saw the man for the swot he was. But cruel, sadistic? He couldn't imagine that Minerva would miss that in an interview. No. There was something else afoot, and it made no sense to the former spy, potions master, headmaster, dead-man. Snape absently loosened his cravat and set it on the mantle. His eyes were still glazed. Suddenly, he shook his head and turned away from the now hot fire. He couldn't come to any conclusions tonight. He would wait and observe. Part of him wondered if he was interested simply because it might stretch his mind a bit. His neck ached, just above his collar bone. He placed the back of his fingers against the scars to cool them. He would watch. And he would listen.
When the third round of Wolfsbane was finished brewing for the lunar month Severus came out of the dungeons during the daytime, much to Poppy Pomfrey's surprise.
"Severus!" The bustling witch threw her hand over her heart when she turned around to him holding out a covered cauldron. He set the potion on her desk when she did not take it. "Oh goodness it's good to see you, Severus. And out of the dungeons!"
"Yes, well, fresh air and all that. Though suffice it to say once Horace takes up residence in the castle I'll have no need for it."
Severus' dry attempt at humor flew right over Poppy's head. She must have had the vague sense that he was joking, however, because she quirked a short smile before returning to her cabinets. Snape mused that he ought to stop trying to be friendlier with people, despite Minerva's wishes.
Considering whether he should visit said pain-in-his-neck before or after lunch, Severus halted between two corridors. Food, or Minerva? Without further analysis of his predicament, Severus headed for the kitchens. On his way, he heard footsteps on a path tangential to his own. Minerva would be back at the school today, he knew, and he wondered if she was out and checking up on things. He changed his course, thinking to intercept the Headmistress and get it all over with in one go.
As the footsteps became louder, it was clear to Severus that it was not Minerva coming around the corner. Just as he started to turn around, Argo Blanche came around the corner levitating a ball of consolidated laundry in front of her. She looked away when she saw him and walked by without a word. She seemed tired and absent. Severus stopped her. She turned, and he approached her warily.
"What are you doing?"
Argo didn't look him in the eye.
"My apologies, sir. If I need permission to be in the corridors at this time, I will obtain it from my father. Should I summon him?"
Severus tried to seek out a hint of sarcasm in her voice but could find none. She was sincere, which took him off guard. His vitriol usually invoked fear and cowering, but not diplomacy. Snape attempted not to look at the laundry, for fear that her underthings might be visible.
"No. No, that' won't be necessary. What, may I ask, are you attempting to do," Severus asked. For all the sarcasm she lacked, he had plenty.
"I'm…just…" She pointed at her parcel. Severus grew impatient.
"Yes? Out with it, already."
"Laundry, professor. Our laundry."
Severus' eye twitched. Stupidity was one of his least favorite traits among teenage girls, even if she was polite. The girl seemed to bite the inside of her cheek, then looked away again. Her cheeks burned, Severus noted, and he wondered if she was hiding something. After all, who didn't know that Hogwarts had elves that did the laundry? Had she never read Hogwarts: a History? It seemed unlikely considering her academic transfer would hinge upon current knowledge of Hogwarts rules and policies.
"Yes. Well. You might be elated to know that there are house elves for that. You need only leave your dirty clothing at the end of your bed on Wednesdays and, just like that, it's done for you that afternoon." His tone was sharp and overly nice. Severus spoke to her as though she were very young or very stupid. Argo seemed to become agitated but quickly schooled her face into place. It was neutral now. She was good. He would have to watch this girl for deception in the future.
"Yes, sir. I understand." She clearly did not want to say more. He would make her. What was she up to? Mysteries nagged at him. "I do recall reading that."
"And you still plan to continue doing your own laundry, then? If you're up to something, girl, I will find you out." She looked at him evenly and spoke slowly.
"No, sir. My father prefers his…our clothing to be washed only by wi…" she trailed off and caught herself. "He prefers the way I do it. He is old-fashioned with certain things."
Snape cocked an eyebrow and reconsidered the girl. Her full cheeks were half hidden by her brown hair. Seconds later, it snapped into place that Romulus did not want elves touching his laundry. It was clear from the deepening blush that the girl was embarrassed by her father's views. The two of them regarded each other for a moment before Severus cleared his throat.
"Very well."
He would have walked away then, but Argo asked him a question. If he had asked her, she wouldn't have been able to tell him why she felt the urge to be polite to him. He was clearly quite rude.
"And you, sir? How do you find your afternoon? Are you about on school business?"
Her forwardness amused him a bit but also made him wonder again whether she was hiding something. The large ball of laundry floated and rotated lazily. She didn't know that he didn't speak to people this way. How quaint. He would play along since he was in a good mood.
"I am going for lunch. The kitchens are just behind the painting of a bowl of fruit two corridors that way," he said, motioning behind himself.
Argo's eyes followed the motion of his head and she seemed to go very still. In her mind, she was elated. She knew where the kitchens were already. She would be able to eat at night, maybe.
Snape almost thought he sensed excitement from her. Then, he remembered her eating disorder and the embarrassment from the previous night. Maybe it had been a bad thing that he had shown her where the kitchens were. Still, there were measures in place to reprimand children who entered the kitchen at inappropriate times. He felt slightly like a bastard for practically teasing her with the thought of food. Looking down at her while she wasn't in robes, he noted that she did seem a bit heavier than he had originally thought. He assumed the dim lighting at dinner was at fault for that.
"Forgive me, sir, but…"
He waited for her to finish but she didn't. She continued to look in the direction he had motioned. He shifted his weight and sighed, not amused.
"Yes, Miss Blanche?"
"You were…walking the other direction, weren't you?"
She never once looked at him again, seemingly deep in thought. He could tell that she had just been making conversation to deviate his attention to her odd behavior. 'Perhaps she's not so good at bluffing after all,' Snape thought, disappointed that she posed no challenge. He turned back and disappeared without responding to her.
The girl bid Professor Snape good day in his general direction, but continued on her way deep in thought. Meanwhile, Snape strode into the kitchen, frightening several knee-high elves, all of whom scrambled to get out of his way in time. A small female elf named Myna steeled herself for several minutes of being snapped at, and politely asked what he would like to eat.
"Whatever's on hand," he said. Myna blinked. She had never once seen him act polite to a house elf. Dobby had once told her, before the war had begun, that he was a good wizard at heart, but that he was just bad-tempered. Myna wasn't sure she believed that. The dark wizard had killed her Dumbly Dore and she missed the old wizard dearly.
She set about summoning leftovers toward the professor while he stared down at the newspaper someone had left on the table. He didn't read it, though. Argo and her father seemed less and less like a normal little family in his mind. Snape set about going over all of the thoughts and impressions in his mind regarding the two newcomers. He remembered having the same impressions when he first met Lucius' family, so long ago. Perhaps this was the same? 'People to watch but not to involve oneself with?'
Ignoring the strange sensation of not entirely hating a student right off the bat, Severus ate and contemplated whether he'd find more students' company enjoyable now that Harry Potter was out of his hair.
It was 2:40 in the morning now. She could hear snores from the next room. Argo shivered and wrapped her sweater around her seemingly plump midsection. Her footsteps were near silent as she approached her door. Though she appeared heavy, she doubted she would make much sound against the wooden floorboards.
She exited and stepped lightly past the door to Romulus' room. She was almost there! Her breath caught as she let the portrait swing outward quietly, and then gently pushed it back where it belonged. She thanked her luck. The portrait they had been given did not have any English speaking people in it. They were dead asleep anyway, some in hammocks and some against trees.
Argo's feet pounded the stone floor as she raced to the picture of the bowl of fruit. She stopped just short of running into the wall and stared at the portrait. She didn't know the password. She tried several times to say common words to the portrait but it wouldn't budge. Five minutes passed as she nervously begged the portrait to open.
"Breakfast? Lunch? Dinner! House elf! Frog legs fried in shit," she beseeched irritably. Giving up, she slammed her hand against the portrait. Her fingers curled into a ball against the rough paint as she made a fist. The frame swung open and Argo jumped back to avoid being hit. She covered her mouth to avoid screaming in surprise. Tears sprung to her eyes and she rushed inside. She would have to be careful. Argo whispered to herself, "Not so much that you get bloated. He'll see."
She ate a sandwich with horseradish spread on it. She longed for another but made herself eat a banana as quickly as possible instead and even took two swallows of pumpkin juice. She wiped her mouth and gargled water before running out of the room. She felt a rush of elation and lethargy as she digested the food.
Myna watched quietly as the portrait closed. She was supposed to tell the staff whenever students were in the kitchen after nightfall. But she didn't want to tell on this girl. This girl was so thin. She needed to eat. The picture around her was wrong. She wasn't as big as whoever had drawn the picture had made her look. 'Surely headmistress does not mean skinny children?' Myna asked herself this question several times before hitting her head on the floor in anguish. Myna decided it was worth two more head-bangs to not tell on the skinny Miss and her one sandwich. Besides, wasn't that rule only meant to be followed during the school year?