A/N: As always (even though sometimes I forget to say it, please know that it's implied) none of the characters, world, plot pattern, etc, are mine. And thanks for reading :)
A/N2: Also, just to preempt any questions, no there won't be a romance involving Rigel and Professor Snape. Not that I don't love Snape, I do, but he's playing the role of Myles for anyone who's ready Alanna the Lioness. If you haven't, he's a mentor type figure, sometimes a fatherly figure (though Snape wont do much of that because Rigel has a father already and Snape's not really that kind of character.)
A Pureblood Pretense
Chapter Eight:
After Herbology, in which they'd moved on to soils used for plants that grew in more exotic places, such as the ones that grew on the tops of mountains or the bottom of lakes and oceans, Rigel let Draco and Pansy walk ahead of her. While they continued up toward the castle, she slipped away to the lake where she was supposed to meet Fred and George, about whom she wasn't quite sure what to think yet.
There was a group of big, sturdy trees not far from the shore of the lake, so she headed that way. There weren't any redheads that she could see, though a few older students who must have had free periods Friday afternoons were lazing under the trees, obviously enjoying their free time before the semester picked up. She had been standing under a leafy branch only a few minutes when an unfamiliar voice called out from behind her.
"Hey, you're Rigel Black, yeah?" the speaker was a cheerful boy with dark skin and very white teeth. He had dreadlocks that just touched his shoulders and large brown eyes framed by thick, spiky lashes.
"Yes, I am," said Rigel, turning to face the new boy fully.
"Lee Jordan, or just Lee," he stuck out a hand, which she took, "Fred and George told me about you- don't worry, I've known them long enough not to believe a word."
"They mentioned you to me this morning," Rigel said, "Pleased to meet you."
He laughed, "I see what they mean; you say that like you mean it."
"I do mean it," Rigel said, confused.
"A Slytherin never means anything," he waved his hand, "And neither does a prankster, so you're actually in excellent company."
"I heard that this morning too," she said wryly.
Lee grinned knowingly, "Fred and George been telling you how wonderful they are?"
Rigel smiled with her eyes, "Something like that."
"Well, don't be too dazzled by them," he shrugged easily, "They're fun to hang out with, but at the end of the day—" Lee broke off, cocking his head toward the sound of a commotion coming their way.
"-no, no, you two are not throwing me in the lake!" a boy shouted from behind them. They turned to see Fred and George literally dragging their older brother down the path. Percy had a look of panic on his face and was struggling vainly, "I mean it this time, I'll owl Mum if you don't release me this instant!"
Fred and George dropped Percy's arms like they had caught on fire.
"No need to drag poor old Mum into this," Fred began.
"-and I'm telling her you called her old and poor-"
"Now, Perce, there's no need for all that," George cut across his brother quickly, "We've just brought you here to meet someone, see?"
"Who?" Percy demanded, glancing around, "I've already met Lee and-"
"No, no, the little one behind Lee," Fred moved forward and dragged Rigel into clearer view, "This one here."
"Oh," Percy adjusted his horn-rimmed glasses and stepped forward to meet her, "I'm Percy. My brothers didn't drag you down here too, did they?" he asked suspiciously.
"Drag? What drag?" Fred said, affronted.
"No, I asked them to introduce us," Rigel said, "I'm Rigel Black, and you helped me out on the train ride here, so when I found out who you were I wanted to thank you formally."
"Well," Percy looked taken aback, as though no one had ever thanked him for anything before, "There's no need for all that, but you're welcome. That Flint isn't really a bad sort, but he's always in a terrible mood the first week or so of school, and sometimes he takes it out on others."
"I understand," Rigel said, "He's in my House, so we've worked out our differences now, but I still wanted to thank you for stepping in when you did."
"Just doing my duty as a Prefect," Percy flushed as his brothers clapped him on the back admiringly.
"Regardless, I'll pay back a favor someday, if you should need one," she said.
The tallest redhead nodded a tad uncomfortably, "And if you should need help again, I'd be glad to do what I can."
Rigel widened her eyes guiltlessly, "Would you?" she asked wonderingly. This was just the opening she'd been waiting for, "I wouldn't want to be a bother, and I'd ask a Ravenclaw, but I don't know any, and you seem so smart and, well..."
"Yes?" Percy prompted, preening a bit, "What is it?"
"Well I'm curious about so many things, but sometimes I don't understand it the way the book explains. Could I come ask you when I get confused in my studies?" she asked, making sure her voice was filled with innocent hope.
"Of course!" Percy assured her, "Far be it from me to keep an eager young mind from knowledge. Anytime you want to discuss something academic just come up and knock on the Gryffindor common room. Fred and George can show you where if you don't know, and even if I'm not there, someone will be able to find me."
"Okay," Rigel smiled her best please-like-me smile up at the Prefect.
"Yes, well," Percy adjusted his glasses and nodded curtly to her, "Just maybe don't wear that tie, and it should be fine." With that, he said goodbye to Lee and his brothers and started back up the path toward the castle.
"Well, I'm impressed," said Lee when Percy had gone, "It took Fred and George three months to get an invite into the Slytherin common room."
"Though they never did let us come back after that first time," Fred said wistfully.
"Some people just can't hold their jinxed canary creams," George shrugged, "But we would have let you in the common room- supervised of course- if you'd just asked."
"I just wanted to talk to your brother," Rigel said honestly, "I think he'll be a wonderful resource for my studies."
"Sure, sure, whatever you say," Fred said.
"Just don't forget to stop in and say 'hi' when you come up to the Nest," George added.
"We gotta go, Oliver's getting the team together tonight to talk about trials next week and McGonagall wants to talk to me about commentating," Lee said after performing a Tempus Spell, "We've got just enough time to grab dinner first."
"Nice meeting you, Lee," Rigel said.
"One day I'll believe you, kid," Lee laughed as the three of them ran off, "But not today!"
Dinner was spent nervously twisting her vegetables across her plate and avoiding Draco's increasingly exasperated questions about where she went after Herbology. It was Pansy who finally shut him up.
"Draco," she said repressively, "Sometimes Rigel is going to disappear for no apparent reason, because that's just the kind of person he is. The sooner you accept that and learn not to care where he goes when he wants to wander off alone, the happier you and everyone around you will be."
Draco set his face mulishly, but subsided for at least that moment. He started to wind up again when Rigel told them she had somewhere to be after dinner, but a look from Pansy made him shrug as nonchalantly as an eleven-year-old could manage and head toward the Slytherin Common Room without another word.
Rigel approached Snape's office in the dungeons with slow, deliberate steps. She'd waited exactly five minutes after the Professor had left the Staff Table to head to their appointment, because she wanted to seem respectfully punctual, but not overbearingly impatient. The door to Snape's office was made of sturdy oak, and was one of the rooms she hadn't been able to explore yet. She knew the password when it was locked was "Asclepius" from the Marauder's Map, but it was also warded with a magical signature when the Professor wasn't inside, so this would be the first opportunity to satisfy her curiosity. Or it would have been if she wasn't so nervous. What if he hated my essay, or too many of the things I wrote down were obvious? she thought unhappily, I thought the assignment seemed too easy. There was probably a trick somewhere I missed and now he's going to think I'm the dumbest student who ever had the nerve to waste their Professor's time.
She knocked gently, but firmly on the wide door and turned the silver handle (curious metal to use on a door handle) immediately when she heard Snape call "Enter!" from within. Disproportionately relieved that he hadn't just told her to go away, she entered the small, square space, closing the door softly behind her. Professor Snape's office was a sparse, eerie room, decorated with the most gruesome of Potions ingredients, which stood like trophies on shelves about the walls. There were no books, no art besides a portrait of Salazar Slytherin, and no furniture besides the basic wooden desk and the chair Snape was sitting on. His desk was empty but for a stack of order forms and trays that looked like they'd hold essays later in the year. His chair looked fairly comfortable, indicating he likely sat in it for a few hours a day at least, but Rigel thought he probably spent most of his free time in his personal quarters, and that this office was just for show. She could certainly see how it would be intimidating, especially since the students who came to ask help from the Potions Master would have to stand.
Professor Snape looked up from his order forms as she moved to stand in front of his desk, feet shoulder width apart and hands held folded behind her back. She gave him a stare that was deferential, but defiant in the pride that it revealed. It said that she respected him, but if he'd called her here just to ridicule her she would not back down from defending herself. He took in her stance and expression, and the lines on his face softened the way people's faces did when they were caught off guard by a memory they thought they'd forgotten. It passed quickly, however, and Professor Snape pressed his mouth into an even thinner line than it usually presented.
"Mr. Black," he began, his tone once again one of carefully correct neutrality when addressing her, "I find it... difficult to imagine that you completed the essay I assigned in the extra time at the end of today's lesson."
She opened her mouth, but he held up a hand and continued, "I am not accusing you of anything, but it is possible that a student would be able to get the essay topic from a Ravenclaw or Hufflepuff year mate who had their practical lesson yesterday, and complete the essay ahead of time with an older student's help in a misguided endeavor to 'get into my good books' as they say."
Rigel's eyes widened in for-once-unfabricated dismay. Of course he would be suspicious. He had probably dealt with dishonest brown-nosers before, and while she might be kissing up just a tad (okay, a lot) she was certainly not dishonest in her work, "Is there any way I can convince you of my sincerity?" she asked with no small amount of trepidation.
"There is," Snape said, "Since you apparently do not require references when writing such an assignment, I would ask you to write another now, in my presence. Know that I do not mean to attack you, Mr. Black. This is just a way for me to accurately gauge your capability, but if you choose to, you may leave here without writing this assignment and as far as I am concerned our dealings will remain the same as any of your Slytherin classmates.
"I did not bring quill and parchment," she said grimly.
He reached into one of his desk drawers and pulled out a clean roll of parchment along with a quill and ink pot and set them on the desk in front of him silently.
"What is the essay, sir?" she asked, not yet reaching to take the offered writing implements. There would be no point starting an essay she couldn't complete.
"There is no length requirement," he said, "And is not an essay, per se. Simply list every Potions ingredient you know of, followed by any dangers and uses you remember. It is meant to be along the same lines as what we covered in class yesterday, though if you know of others not discussed in class, please add those as well. Take your time."
Rigel nodded, and reached to take the writing supplies, eager now to get started, "May I use the other side of your desk to write on, sir?" she asked.
He raised an eyebrow, "I have not often been called fair," he said dryly, "But I have never yet forced a student to write an essay standing up." So saying he pulled out his wand and conjured a basic desk and chair in the corner of the room for her use. She thanked him, then sat and immediately began writing.
Abberra Leaves- used in Skele-Grow (sliced) and Nutrient Potion (diced). Must be harvested by pulling the roots of the plant up intact, or the leaves dry out and become poisonous within three days.
Aconite- used in Wolfsbane (the flowers, crushed), various poisons (usually the stalks, shredded) and recently in Ardor Increasing Potions (just the pollinated stamens, though this method is largely untested). Very dangerous to collect, as it grows most prolifically in werewolf territory and must be harvested with silver at the full moon. Also poisonous to ingest and difficult to add to Potions without causing them to explode, as it is highly reactive to most other ingredients.
Adder Stingers- used mainly in prank Potions to cause embarrassing rashes or other skin conditions, with the exception of its use in Morning Sickness Remedies for pregnant witches in their first trimester. Dangerous because too much in any Potion can make it too hot to drink without burning the throat of the drinker severely. Should wear gloves when working with it.
Aesop's Flower- used by those in the field of Divination for Dream Walking Potions. Strong hallucinogen and sometimes sold on the black market in dangerous quantities as a recreational drug. Dangerously addictive in frequent, heavy doses...
And so it went. Rigel wrote all the way to: Mellonite- used for Muscle Cramp Relief Potions (ground and dried) as well as in Intestinal Regulation Potions and in many balms and pastes for sore or stiff muscles. Dangerous only if a person inhales the fumes of a Potion while Mellonite is stewing in it, which causes them to lose some muscle control, especially in the hands and feet, and could possibly cause an accident if the Potioneer continued to try and handle ingredients. And then she ran out of parchment.
She rose and walked the few steps over to Snape's desk. He seemed to be drafting a letter of some kind, so she kept her eyes politely away from his parchment and waited for him to come to a stopping point. He set down his quill and reached out a hand toward her, palm up.
"Finished?" he asked, seeming surprised when he noticed how low the torches had burned.
"No, sir," Rigel said apologetically, "I need more parchment."
"More parchment?" he repeated, frowning fiercely.
"Yes, sir," she said, thinking he was irritated she had used so much, "I'll be sure to reimburse you the supplies I use."
"Reimb-" he scowled blackly, "Give me that!" he snatched the roll of parchment from her hand and unrolled it, staring at the writing on the front, then slowly turning it over to the back side, which was also filled with small, evenly spaced writing.
"I only got halfway through the 'M's," she said helpfully.
His eyes snapped up to fix on her, "Sit. Now." He crooked his finger at the chair she was sitting in, which zoomed over to face his desk and gestured imperiously for her to use it. She sat quietly while he sank slowly into his own chair, his eyes moving rapidly across, then down, the scroll. She mentally composed the rest of the ingredients she remembered, in case he asked for her to recite them orally instead of finishing the essay.
Minutes passed in silence, the only interruption when Snape flipped the roll over to the back impatiently and kept reading. At last, he flung down the roll and pinned her with an iron stare, "Do you have a photographic memory, Mr. Black?" he demanded.
"No, sir," she said.
"An... extreme fascination for Herbology, then," he suggested. She thought he sounded sick.
"Not particularly, sir," she said quietly.
"Am I to understand, then, that you have more than a passing interest in Potions, Mr. Black?" Snape clenched his teeth on her surname convulsively.
"Very much so, sir," she looked up into his face, eyes flicking desperately over too-pale skin and flame-retardant gel slicked into neglected hair, "You understand, don't you, sir? No one else does, and mostly I'm told I know enough about Potions and to concentrate on something else, but you'll teach me new things, won't you? I don't mean to impose, and I'm sure you get a lot of requests for tutelage considering your position in the Potions community. It's just, I'm so tired of learning from books."
His eyes closed like steel curtains for a long moment. Rigel tried to focus on the ugly jars of dead things, the situation with Flint, her new and strange friendship with Draco, anything but Snape and his unreadable expression. To her young, untried soul, which had not yet opened its eyes to the vastness of the world, it seemed that her Fate hung in the balance in that moment. Her Professor sighed heavily, and when he spoke Rigel realized he sounded tired, not sick.
"The level of knowledge you have displayed today is nothing short of incredible, so perhaps you will forgive me for being somewhat reluctant to believe it at first," Snape said, rubbing his hands across his eyes, nostrils flaring as he tried to think, "I do understand."
Rigel hadn't realized what those words would mean, placed together like that and coming from Potions Master Snape, until she heard them. She'd known people to say that you could lose a weight you didn't know you carried, but to Rigel it felt like a window had opened and she hadn't even known she was indoors. Like she'd been looking at a world removed by glass without realizing it, and now she could feel and smell the breeze. She closed her eyes to savor those words, then opened them and poured everything she felt for Potion-making into her gaze. It was more difficult than she expected it to be, perhaps because she was unpracticed in putting real emotions into her face, but she projected all the passion and longing and triumph and despair-oh the despair when she realized her dream was here at Hogwarts, where she could never be- toward Professor Snape, wanting him to see, to know as she knew, that Potions was the only thing she could ever do.
One moment she was willing Snape to understand and wondering desolately what Professor Snape thought of her work, and the next moment her consciousness was suddenly filled with foreign thoughts: disbelief and ambivalent consternation- she didn't know what to do. She was gleeful, to have found a Slytherin at last who had the potential she needed, and suspicious that it was a cruel joke, for she knew that good things were never true, and bitterly resentful that it would be Black to have such a son. A son that by rights the universe should have given him, one who was wasted on Black if the boy had to spend his life and talent learning Potions from a book— and then she was gasping for air, feeling familiar things, like her own bewilderment and nausea. She opened her eyes to find herself slumped over Snape's desk and raised herself slowly into a seated position once more. Snape was sitting stiffly in his own chair, eyes wide and face frozen in an expression of surprised anger.
"What just happened?" Rigel asked, putting a hand to her temple in the universal symbol for complete and utter confusion.
"I would ask you that, if it did not already know what happened. I was in your mind, unless I am very much mistaken, specifically in the part of it which is concerned with Potions, and you were in my mind," his eyes flashed menacingly, "specifically in the portion that was concerned with my opinion of you."
Rigel flinched, still completely confused, "You were in my mind? What did you see?" she said, her voice rising automatically toward her natural octave, "I don't understand how this could-" her voice failed her, and she buried her face in her hands, trembling violently. It couldn't all end here, it just couldn't.
"Exactly," Snape said, breathing deeply to calm himself, "How did you do this? I have extremely strong Occlumency shields, and in any case that was no Legilimency I've ever experienced. For one thing, there were no images, no memories, only blunt feeling, but it was as though I were originator of them, instead of merely an observer to your experiences. I need you to calm down and focus, so that you can explain what you were trying to do, Mr. Black. Mr. Black?"
She couldn't hear him, or if she did it didn't register that he was talking to her. He spoke louder, "Mr. Black. Arctur- Rigel. Rigel!"
"Huh- what me?" Rigel gulped the air desperately.
"Yes of course, boy, who else-" Snape collected himself, "Rigel, you are having a panic attack. Take slower breaths and talk through it."
"Okay. Okay, I'm sorry," she sucked in air carefully and babbled as coherently as she could, "I just can't go home because of this, it's not fair. I don't even know what happened, I mean, how does this happen? I just wanted to show you I was serious about Potions, not go in your head, which is really complicated in case you didn't know, and oh crap you were in my mind- what did you see!" Rigel groaned into her hands, "Are you going to expel me, now? For what it's worth I'm really sorry, and I never meant to hurt anyone."
"I am not going to expel you, Rigel," Snape said slowly and clearly, "I don't know what you are so afraid of, nor will I press you to tell me, but from your mind I gleaned nothing more or less than the all-encompassing passion you have for brewing and understanding Potions."
"Oh," Rigel stopped hyperventilating almost immediately, realizing in retrospect that he had still referred to her as 'boy' as well as 'Mr. Black' and that if his experiences had been as disorientating as hers it was unlikely he'd noticed anything concrete, "So... so what now, sir?"
"I don't understand what happened here, but some good may yet come of it. For one, it has cleared any doubts I may have had about your sincerity in learning my art," Professor Snape said carefully, "Provided it does not happen again, I see no reason for the last ten minutes to affect anything beyond this room."
Her head shot up so fast it cricked uncomfortably and she stared, wide eyed and wild haired, into Snape's lined face, "Truly, sir? You would give me another chance?"
Snape set his face determinately, "Yes. I will do this. We will do this. Your father does not factor here, and whatever just occurred in our minds has no bearing either. You have talent, or at least exceptional drive, and I will cheer for Gryffindor before I see that ability atrophy."
Rigel wasn't sure which of them he was trying to convince, but her heart was near to bursting with all she felt. Relief and joy and a strange sort of vertigo left her reeling with the day's events. All she wanted to do now was sleep. Snape must have noticed her momentum waning, for he stood and gestured for her to rise as well so he could vanish the extra furniture.
"It's been a long day for us both, Mr. Black," he said, and she noticed his voice wasn't entirely neutral around her anymore. It drifted ever so slightly toward luke-warm, "Go to bed, now, and we will deal with the details and consequences of this when we must. For Monday, you may choose one ingredient from the list you compiled and write ten inches on an in-depth discussion of it."
"Yes, sir." Rigel said, moving toward the door, "Thank you."
He nodded curtly, still looking a bit off-balance. She turned at the door, one hand on the handle, and said, "You won't regret this, Professor Snape. I promise you."
"Of that I have no doubts, Mr. Black."
[end of chapter eight].
A/N: Sorry that one was short (certainly not the 7000+ of chapter 6), but I had to cut it off here or the next chapter would be way too long. So things are moving forward for our sometimes difficult heroine. I kind of like it, so far, at least ^^. I know it seems strange to say that Rigel is Harry Potter turned Harriett Potter, masquerading as an OC and a Black in a Hogwarts that is changed almost beyond recognition… but such is the power of fanfiction. If it makes you feel better, we can consider Rigel an OC altogether and not even try to make her a "what if" version of Harry, simply because too many variables and facets of her personality differ from the original. Really, she's been slipped into Harry's theoretical place in this twisted version of JK's world and given a new purpose, but a part of me wants to still consider this fanfiction. If it offends anyone that so many liberties have been taken away or added, I'm truly sorry, and I wish them the best of luck in finding a more appealing story elsewhere.