One Day at a Time
The Rowles' Ball
The tenth of March, the date of the Rowle's gala, approached quickly, and I was soon sitting in my quarters preparing the last touches on my formal garb. There was a knock and I opened the painting to find, somewhat unexpectedly, Sev standing there in his formal robes. I had to keep my heart from leaping into my throat. His dress robes were black, not unsurprisingly, but they were a different cut from his normal robe and I thought he looked quite dashing in them.
"You might want to bring a cloak," he drawled, eyeing my dark blue robes. "It's snowing outside, here at least."
It had been unseasonably cool lately, but the snow still surprised me. I ironically replied, "Funny, and this is supposed to be an end-of-winter ball, too."
I was curious if that was the only reason he had stopped by, but I wanted to avoid saying anything that might make him leave. He soon added, though, "We might as well Floo together, considering we're leaving from and going to the same place."
We walked to a fireplace with some Floo powder and just before he stepped into the emerald flames he disinterestedly said, "By the way, in case you don't already know, Thorfinn Rowle is a Death Eater." And with that he was swallowed by the fire.
"Good to know," the empty room swallowed my words before I stepped into the fire.
When I stepped out of the fireplace, I was in a grand-looking room with a high ceiling. Besides the fireplace, a few decorations and a long queue of people the room was empty, and I thought it might be a room purely for Floo arrivals and departures, a foyer of sorts. I wasn't quite sure the purpose of the line, but Severus was also in it, so I silently took a place behind him. Everybody was wearing elegant, expensive-looking robes and talking in quiet, restrained voices; the whole thing was quite intimidating. Once the queue had progressed sufficiently, I saw that the host and hostess were greeting each guest individually. Thorfinn Rowle seemed to be an immense man with blond hair and a rather ugly face; I remembered him only vaguely from the wedding. Persephone Rowle, my friend from Hogwarts, stood next to him, gracefully greeting guest after guest. She was also blonde, but substantially shorter than her husband and with a more delicately carved face.
"Liseli!" she greeted me with a warm hug. "I haven't seen you in far too long. It's absolutely lovely that you could come. I know our humble abode isn't very much, but I hope you enjoy yourself here."
"It's very nice," I replied honestly, surprised that she could refer to such a large house as "humble" with a straight face. "I mean, trust me, you should see my place," I let out a small laugh but I noticed an annoyed look flit across Thorfinn's face; I seemed to have said the wrong thing.
Persephone started greeting another guest, just as Thorfinn turned towards me; I almost felt as though I was being moved through a production line. "Miss Colburn, it's wonderful seeing you again," he stated formally. The production line chugged forward and I was spat out into another room. This one had many large tables covered with appetizers and glittering chandeliers hanging from the ceiling. I looked around the room, feeling rather lost. Sev seemed to have been swallowed by the crowd, and besides him I knew almost nobody; I only vaguely recognized some of the parents of children I had tutored. I was standing awkwardly by the table, nibbling on a tomato and goat cheese appetizer, when a woman with white blonde hair also approached the table.
"Mrs. Malfoy," I greeted her in a tone that hopefully came off as friendly. "It's nice seeing you again," or rather, it's nice seeing somebody whose name I know. "I don't know if you remember me; I tutored your son for a few months."
"Oh, yes, Miss Colburn," she gave me a dignified smile. "Draco tells me you're teaching at Hogwarts, now."
"I am," I replied brightly, happy to have found a topic of conversation. "I teach Defense Against the Dark Arts." Oh wait, I thought, Her husband's one of the Death Eaters in the Inner Circle. Damn, I probably shouldn't have said I teach against Dark Magic. "Draco's one of my brightest students," I complimented her, hoping to distract from my possible faux pas.
"Draco speaks highly of you in his letters home," she returned the compliment; whether it was true or not, I had no clue. "It's awful that the teaching they've had in that subject is so sporadic. I still can't believe they had a werewolf, a werewolf teach, there. It's horrid what Hogwarts is coming to these days."
"Yes, I heard about that," I said vaguely. What had been that professor's name again?
Mrs. Malfoy continued as though she had not heard me. "Last year they had Professor Umbridge, who Draco was rather partial to, but she had to return to her ministry work." That wasn't quite the story I had heard, but I nodded along, anyway.
"Liseli, I didn't you know you were coming," I heard a falsely cheery voice to my left and saw Deneb walking towards me with a sprig in his step. "Mrs. Malfoy, I believe?" he shook her hand. "Deneb Colburn, Liseli's brother. It's a pleasure to meet you."
"Likewise," she replied in a dignified voice.
He turned towards me again and energetically said, "I had forgotten you were friends with Persephone Gamp. No, Persephone Rowle, now. Silly me. I didn't know you two were still keeping in touch. You should have told me," he finished in a bright, innocent tone. I could practically see his mind working behind his restless eyes: the Rowles were, evidently, a powerful, influential family, and here I could serve as a connection to him. By his manipulative world view, I would be wonderfully useful.
"If you'll excuse me for just a minute," Malfoy said smoothly. She slid past the table and was quickly swallowed by the crowd. Deneb looked rather disappointed at the last opportunity of making a connection with another influential person.
"There you are, Deneb," his wife Marie-Ange walked up from behind him and put her arm around his rather pudgy waist as way of greeting. He looked at her with a rather disinterested look before a rehearsed one of love approached on his face. "I was just telling Mr. Dent about how highly you think of him."
"Who?" Deneb asked, clearly thinking.
"Mr. Dent. He said he works for the Ministry of Magic, the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes."
"Dent, Dent," his eyes seemed to be searching the air in front of him, as though it would hold an explanation of who the man was. "I remember him now! He's one of the rising stars in that department."
"Exactly, honey," she pouter her painted lips. "I heard somebody standing nearby him say that, so I quickly joined the conversation."
"Ah, you're so clever, sweetie, trying to get me into Dent's good graces," he lovingly stroked her cheek. "Sometimes I think they sort too soon; you would have made a great Slytherin."
"But I'm a Hufflepuff, because I'm loyal only to you," she smiled broadly and put her arms around him.
I mentally gagged and wondered how to get away from the scheming couple. A dinner announcement soon rang through the room, though, and the production line ushered us into yet another room. This room had one very long table, with many settings and chairs around it. It seemed there was a seating chart, for there were small cards with individual's names written in calligraphy on each seat. Feeling rather stupid, I started walking up and down, looking for my name. I finally found it around the center of the very long table. I was sitting between a rather lumpy-looking witch who was talking to a squat wizard next to her and a frail-looking man with greying hair.
"I see you're called Liseli Colburn," the greying man pointed towards the caligraphied card. "I'm one of the managers at the Department for Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. What do you do?"
"Uh, I'm a professor at Hogwarts," I replied, unsure how to handle myself in the face of his excessive self-importance.
"You teach at Hogwarts?" That is what I just said, I thought to myself. "You know, I really can't believe Hogwarts these days. It's completely going down the drain, ever since Dumbledore's become Headmaster. I heard there was a campaign to have him removed from that post and, personally, I'm all for it. I mean, it's just what's best for the students, don't you think?" He said this in a very business-like manner, snapping out each clearly articulated word.
"Mm," I made the most neutral sound I could, thinking it would be rude to tell him I thought rather highly of Dumbledore.
"I think the worst part is the huge increase in Muggle-born students while he's been Headmaster. Their parents don't pay taxes to the Ministry of Magic. We shouldn't have to pay so Muggles can get an education. We're literally throwing our money away on them! They have their own schools. They should use them. Don't you agree?"
"Mm," I replied neutrally again, pretending to focus my attention on the food which had just appeared.
He seemed to dislike my lack of enthusiastic agreement, for he turned towards his left and started repeating himself to the man who sat there. Fine with me, I thought, and started looking up and down the table. Persephone sat at one head of the table, and her husband at the other. Mrs. Malfoy was sitting relatively close to Persephone, and Sev to the host. Although Deneb and his wife were sitting around the center, like me, they were still too far away for us to talk. It occurred to me that the guests were probably seated in order of importance, with the more honored guests being closer to the host and hostess.
The rest of dinner passed rather uneventfully. The graying man to my left made a few more attempts at conversation but would always stop when I didn't start enthusiastically and mindlessly agreeing with him. After the meal the production line brought us to yet another large, grandly decorated room. This one had some small tables around the edges of the room and a large clearing in the middle. There were also several French doors out onto a large patio, which looked as though it led to a garden.
Couples started dancing in the middle of the room and music echoed from some unknown source. I sat at one of the tables and glumly started into space, bored and annoyed with the whole dynamic of the gathering. A witch I didn't recognize also sat at the tale and shortly introduced herself. I told her my name, and when she asked what I did I replied that I was a Hogwarts professor. She enthusiastically replied, "Oh, but of course! I've heard about you."
"Really?" I said, rather surprised. I doubted I was important enough for anybody outside of Hogwarts to have heard of me.
"Oh, yes," she continued. "I hear you're doing wonderful things with the classes there."
"Like what?" I said, puzzled. She almost phrased it as though I was revolutionizing the classroom. I liked to think that I wasn't a bad professor, but I didn't think I was doing anything dramatically better than the other professors.
"Well, uh, just that, I mean, I hear you're really helping those who are struggling to succeed," she regained her composure.
"That's nice," I replied vaguely, before suspiciously adding "Where'd you hear that from?"
"Um," she looked around indecisively. "Evan Rosier. His son goes to Hogwarts." I surveyed her suspiciously; there were no Rosiers in any of my classes. "But, I mean, not just from him of course," she nervously added at seeing my facial expression. "Actually, if you'll excuse me for a moment," and with that she hastily left the table.
Merlin, I feel like I'm surrounded by dozens of Denebs. They're all so manipulative and self-centered, sucking up to everyone in the vicinity, thinking it might benefit them eventually, I thought exasperatedly. Speak of the devil, I added as I saw Marie-Ange walking towards me.
"Have you seen my husband?" she asked me. "I just spent the last twenty minutes talking to a very important-looking wizard from the ministry; I have to tell him."
"No, I haven't," I said disinterestedly. "Sorry."
"Oh, alright," she replied before walking off to another part of the room and passing the group of people that was encircling Persephone; I knew my probability of being able to talk to my old Hogwarts friend was next to none at this event.
I stood up, and pushed my way through the French doors. The patio was a large and flat expanse of tile, with several steps down to a dirt path that lead into a garden. I sat down on one of the steps and looked up at the sky. I was sure if anyone saw me being this seemingly anti-social, Deneb would pretend he didn't know me, but I didn't care.
It was quite cold out, and silent except for the muted noise of the party. Between the dark clouds overhead I could see the glittering of a few stars, and I found the environment rather calming. I had been sitting there for at least a short period of time when I heard a familiar drawl, "Breaking out of the party's cookie-cutter shape, I see."
I looked up and felt a rush of relief at seeing Sev. Finally, someone who wasn't one of the party's manipulative phonies. "Eh, I don't know if I'm exactly one for these types of gatherings," I said casually. "I'm not really used to them."
"Oh?" He was still standing and I couldn't see his facial expression.
"I mean, you probably grew up around these types of events, and the whole wealthy pureblood culture. I didn't. And, I don't know, it just seems like there's something wrong with it, sometimes," I thought out loud.
"What makes you say I grew up around this type of culture?" he replied coolly.
"Oh, uh, I mean, didn't you?" I finished lamely, suddenly feeling guilty for stating my assumption aloud.
"No. I didn't," he said shortly, but thankfully he didn't sound annoyed.
"I was planning to walk around the garden. Do you want to come with?" I casually stood up. I had been planning no such thing, but I was hoping it would let me spend more time with Sev and help me avoid the ball a bit longer.
"I suppose I'll go with you," he drawled in a neutral tone. Most of the garden was dormant, due to the winter weather, and it was actually fairly boring to look at.
"So are you enjoying the party?" I tried to make conversation. I was starting to wish my robes had pockets; my fingers were getting rather cold.
"These types of events are all the same," he shrugged his shoulders. "They always try and invite high-ranking people, from the Ministry or elsewhere."
I had a feeling "or elsewhere" meant Death Eaters, but I felt I shouldn't clarify that out loud. Instead I asked, "Is that how you know the host?"
He nodded. "And you?"
"Persephone Rowle and I were friends when we were at Hogwarts. Well, in retrospect it seems more like we were acquaintances. We got along well, but we never really deeply cared about each other, per se. We drifted apart during my seventh year," I reflected rather sadly on my former friends.
"It's interesting how our definition of 'friend' changes," he mused, looking at the grey barks of the leafless trees. I vaguely remembered Severus-the-Seventh-Year prowling the corridors with a gang of other Slytherins, and I wondered if he would now consider them friends or just acquaintances.
"So what's your definition of a friend?" I asked, curious.
I couldn't fully see his facial expression. The garden was rather poorly lit, but he seemed to be thinking. "Someone who you truly care about, and someone who cares about you," he finally said.
I turned that definition over in my head before thinking aloud a bit more, "I agree with that definition, but it's sort of a lonely one, for me, at least. By that definition my only friend at Hogwarts was…Tarazet."
I thought he might react to my brother's name, but he seemed too absorbed in his own thoughts. Almost as though he had forgotten I was there, he slowly said, "I only had one friend when I was at Hogwarts, too."
Curious if it was one of his Slytherin acquaintances, I casually asked, "Anybody I know?"
"We stopped talking after our fifth year," he replied, as though he had only half heard my question. "She died in the First War."
"Oh." I felt a pang of sympathy for him, but I didn't want to say as much, lest it pull him from his reverie. "Was she…Muggle born?" I ventured cautiously, partly amazed that he was acting so open. An annoyed look crossed his face, and for a second I thought I had asked too personal of a question for him to answer. The look disappeared, though, and he silently gave a brief nod. I added, "I had a Muggle born friend—well, acquaintance, really--while I was at Hogwarts. Paige Collins. She stopped talking to me once Seginus and Matar were arrested for being Death Eaters. I don't even know if she's still alive."
"Most of my acquaintances are in Azkaban," he replied quietly.
We both gazed up at the few visible stars as I mentally went through a list of my Hogwarts friends. Persephone Rowle: alive and well. Paige Collins, the Ravenclaw Muggle born: no clue. Regulus: dead for sixteen years. Tarazet: a bit worse for the wear, because of his prison sentence, but comparatively well.
"How much longer do you think the gala's going to last?" I asked once I had finished the list.
"A while longer. I'm guessing you're planning on leaving soon?" We were both looking at the sky still, not facing each other.
I hastily replied, "Well, I like it out here," especially with you, my mind added, and I felt myself blush slightly. "I just…don't like the general atmosphere indoors."
"I don't blame you," he said neutrally.
We were both quiet for a moment, before somebody a ways behind us yelled "Snape, is that you?" We simultaneously turned around to see the massive form of Thorfinn Rowle approaching us. "There you are," he said jovially. "The man of the hour. Which is about how long I've been looking for you," he laughed in a fake sounding way. "I've been wanting to talk with you about, ah, business issues. In private," he added as his eyes flickered towards me. I had a feeling "business issues" translated to 'Rowle sucking up to a member of the Death Eaters' Inner Circle in an attempt to gain favor with the Dark Lord.'
I made to walk away when Sev said, rather unexpectedly, "Actually, we were just about to go back to Hogwarts." We were? I thought to myself, just as he added, "There's a meeting early tomorrow morning that we must prepare for." Now that was most definitely a lie. I vaguely wondered whether Sev was doing me a favor, or whether he just disliked the party's atmosphere as much as I did.
"Ah, those slave drivers," Rowle replied in a would-be joking tone, but it was clear he was annoyed at his lost opportunity.
We flooed back to Hogwarts, where neither of us mentioned Sev's concocted excuse for leaving; I was happy just to be away from the ball.
…
A/N: So the school year has officially started for me. I hate to say this, but I'm going to have to slow down the rate of updates; updates should now be coming as one chapter every one to two weeks. Don't worry, though, I already have all of the events plotted out, so I'm definitely not going to be abandoning this story, even if I have to update a bit less frequently. I also may or may not be able to do review responses anymore, but if you ask me a specific question in a review, I will answer it. On a slightly cheerier note, thanks so much to PollyWantCookie, tibys, argyle owl and angelofire for reviewing, and thank you to everybody who's reading! I really appreciate every single review!