Chapter 26 - The Decay

Everyone was excited about today's match. Graham Montague made some changes in the team, because Flint was unable to come up with the strategy. Good that he was attending to the practice, but it wasn't enough.

Damn it to hell!

The most important match of this year just started and Flint was more focused on the crowd below than on a quaffle like he should.

Hermione was cheering for Gryffindor, but when she saw that Marcus collided with Angelina, she slapped her hand against her forehead. Why was he doing that? It was hard to believe that he was fouling on purpose

She grimaced, seeing that Flint's nose collided with boom handle. She looked at green dressed Slytherins and Katia was there. In the centre of the crowd, she was shouting along with the others, making an imitation of megaphone with her hands.

Not far from her, a black girl with grim expression made a gesture similar to Hermione's.

After the match, the wrath was focused on Malfoy. He was inches from the Snitch yet he let Potter catch it. Morrigan was among them, muttering healing and cleaning charms over Flint.

Flint quickly changed himself and left, his nose looking relatively normal.

He run towards the castle where Gryffindors sang and Slytherins were muttering obscenities. He spotted her in the tail, but she was walking fast.

"Katia, wait!" He shouted after her, hoping to catch her before she would blend with the crowd.

She stopped and must have seen some desperation in his eyes because her pose became somewhat guarded as she stiffened her back. Her gaze hardened.

"What do you want Marcus?"

He wasn't sure if he should continue but the hell with that. Now or never.

"Come with me," he said and grabbed her hand. She did not protest and he took it as a good sign. He led her through corridors. Making sure that they were alone he stopped and she yanked her hand out of his.

"Don't you ever have second thoughts?" He asked, and cursed himself for hesitation in his voice. Katia averted his eyes.

"About what?" She crossed her arms and leaned against the wall. He made a sudden, frustrated gesture. He was sure that she knew what he meant, but explained her anyway.

"About us."

She smirked and Marcus clenched his fists. She became more serious after a while. "There is no us."

He advanced her, forcing her to look up. "Why, what happened? You can't say that you pretended all the time."

She tilted her head slightly. "I never said I did. But things changed and will not be the same anymore."

Her enigmatic response was just a lame excuse, but of what?

"What changed?" He insisted, invading her personal space.

"Nothing," she said unfolding her arms and brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. "Everything," she whispered but he heard it anyway.

Suddenly he grabbed her by arms in a painfully tight grip and bared his teeth. "You found someone and it was easier that way, wasn't it? When everyone around told you that my appearance is so repulsive!"

She grabbed his wrists and stared at him in disbelief. "You – you think that was the reason? That your looks weren't for my liking?"

"Then why? I can't find a fucking reason!"

She let him go and pressed fingers to her temples. "It's all my fault." She turned and started walking away.

"Wait! You can't go away just like that!" He shouted walking after her and caught her arm, causing her to spun around.

"Why? What do you want to hear?" she hissed.

"I want to know why!" he demanded, tightening grip on her arm.

She caught him with surprisingly great amount of strength and slammed him against the wall. He raised his hands in a surrendering gesture.

"I don't need nor want to explain myself to you. We're not together anymore. Get over with that, damn you!"

Katia poured herself a cup of Rum tea. The wizard wireless was playing nice blues. It was late afternoon and she was sitting in Filch's room. They've just got back from the dark room, as they've called Salazar Slytherin tiny room with a secret entrance.

The latest changes in her life – the Dementors, Marcus, Sirius Black and potion accident were too much. She trained more than ever, to fight the curse and all emotions related to recent events. She couldn't sleep at all, tossing in her bed restlessly if she wasn't so tired after exercises that she just fell boneless into bed.

Legillimency was also drawing her strength and now while she made a tiny amount of progress, Dumbledore insisted on training Occlumency. She knew she was more advanced to begin with and Dumbledore jut toyed with her telling that she 'wasn't the worst he'd seen.' She had a training and in fact a lot – every time she communicated with Dementors it was a very easy, childish like level of Legillimency, but it was very frequent. She passed her Adept exams during Christmas break and was half way through Apparition course.

The magical devices detected underage Apparition, but with all her duties she overused the Time Turner and was very close to seventeen years old.

She had to be an Adult to become an Adept, because there was magical law concerning Adepts, and certain alarms would go off if she started too early.

She also thought about Neville and was considering over and over if she did right burdening him with her life issues. He had a huge burden himself and she could tell that it affected him badly. She'd seen her parents die, but she was very little and rarely went back to the memory. Wulfrick Ivanov did the best job ever raising her in love and acceptance. He let her too much though and it all mixed up in her personality.

Neville had his Gran, who was demanding too much of him and he was extremely insecure. Probably his abilities would be a lot better if his lack of confidence wasn't restraining him so much.

Her case was different – she was shy and insecure last year, but it was only until she learned that there was almost no chance they would discover her parentage and then, when she was Marcus girlfriend, no one dared to mock her.

She was afraid at the beginning, that people would notice her fast aging, but they were too focused on themselves to give a shit about her appearance. She just seemed more mature to some, and she always gave a smirk at that, indicating that her ego was busted.

She wasn't ready to tell Filch about all the stuff she was getting herself into at this moment, and she wanted to tell him without any vows if there would be right time. She wasn't sure if she would be able to tell Marcus. EVER.

Filch made a sudden movement to yank the Ashy cigarette she was about to lit, but she leaned back in the armchair, preventing him to do so.

"Not so fast," she said, smirking. "You chickened in the dark room the way I did for the first time."

"The mirror wanted to suck me in, what did you expected, huh?" Filch crossed arms and pursed lips like a hurt teenager girl.

Katia snorted. "Pretty much what you did, really. We don't know if it's dangerous or not."

She reached to fireplace, and lit her cigarette. It was a bad habit she caught from Montague lately.

"I know basic Latin, but it's not enough to decipher the notes," said Filch, lighting his own cigarette. He had no patience to care if she smoked or not. The wrenched girl was very much like an adult and her wasn't her bloody parent or teacher. A lot of kids smoked with a tiny difference, that they hid from him.

"I know basic Latin too, the amount used in classes, nothing more. I can learn if I just reschedule my dance lessons on Friday and-"

Filch stopped her. "I will learn. You have enough trouble with passing exams to bring more upon yourself. Besides a tired mind is a slow learner and Latin is not a slice of bread with butter." He poured himself a glass of Firewhiskey. "I also understand some of Old English," he added proudly.

Katia raised her eyebrows. "How?"

"Before you occupied my evenings, I often wandered with Mrs. Norris, speaking with Hogwarts portraits. Some of them are pretty old."

Katia's eyes lit. As Latin was completely different language, Old English would at least have some resemblance to the language she was using every day. "Would you- would you share that with me?"

Filch exhaled a large puff of smoke through his nose. "Absolutely not."

Seeing her hurting expression, he added. "Not until you dances are over. Looks like the next year schedule for me."

Katia rose from armchair. "Looks like it's time to tutor Fattybella and Fattybert."

"Who?"

"Oh those dumb twits Professor Snape assigned for me to teach, because he claims I have lost my heart for Potions. Anabella Swan and Gilbert Bullstrode."

"Have fun," sneered Filch with a nasty smirk, rising his glass up like for toast.

"Like hell," she retorted with a smirk matching his own.

Hermione's and Marcus' session went surprisingly well. He made a great progress, not only because he gained a lot of self confidence, but the major part was Hermione's detailed schedule for the lessons. He also knew everything about Hagrid and his Hippogriff and about Ron's rat, Ron talking to her again.

In other circumstances, they would never get along. Marcus would keep his cocky attitude and Hermione would have no reason to offer him help. She wouldn't be so open even if they met, but physical exhaustion made her edgy and emotional and Marcus did nothing to discourage her confessions.

He felt treated like a scum and had no desire to talk about it. He occupied his mind with Hermione's problems. In normal circumstances he would have enough, especially the emotional outbursts would be too much. He would treat her problems as trivial and girly, but now it was some distraction. And distraction was something he needed very much these days.

He would have never expected that he would learn patience with Hermione, but when she hissed at him or cried, he handled it with unexplained calmness inside. He depended on her, and the only way he could repay for her help was to be for her and bite back snide remarks. Being a Slytherin, he couldn't be indebted to Gryffindor girl.

"But how could you pull a prank along with Malfoy? Of all people, Malfoy! He called me a-a Mudblood!"

"I told you I have no idea how it happened. I hope you didn't let it pass after he called you that?"

"Oh yes, and he run away. What a coward! And-and when I was a first year, he said that I have teeth like a squirrel! You can't imagine how I've felt." She was on the verge of tears and cursed herself for that. She also cursed herself for being so open towards Marcus Flint. What if he was playing her and would go and tell everyone in Slytherin about all her insecurities, her problems?

But Katia said that he was a good person and if Hermione didn't count her current suspicions – he was.

"You tell me that I can't imagine how it feels to be mocked about the teeth?" He snorted, but there was no humor behind it.

She looked at him and there was absolutely no way to not notice his big, uneven teeth. Suddenly she felt bad.

Marcus tilted his head, to look directly in her eyes. "They never spared me a rude comment since I came here but they were afraid to say it openly, because I was always big and short-tempered, but I can still hear people talking when my back is turned. And I can't hex them all. Even your friend, Potter had said not once that I'm so ugly that I must have some troll blood in me."

He looked so honest now, and she knew people too well to know that he was telling absolute truth. And it hurt.

"Oh," she said, looking anywhere but him. "Oh Marcus I'm sorry."

"Don't pity me," he remarked sternly.

"I'm not!" she protested.

Marcus lifted hand, to stop her. He count to ten and spoke again. "There was only one person who openly admitted that I was attractive, but now I'm not even sure if this was honest."

Now she understood, why he and Katia were so good together. They cured each other's insecurities, like when Katia stopped wearing baggy clothes, they had fun together – they often laughed when she'd seen them, and probably really trusted each other.

"She was really upset when I had asked her about you, because I was listening to gossip and I assumed that you were abusive. She told me she don't deserve you and you're a good man. She defended you strongly so I don't think she was insincere."

Marcus made a gesture to slam his fist against the table, but restrained himself. "I don't want to talk about her anymore. Not yet."

Hermione gave a brief nod at that. She thought about Ron. It would be nice if he told her that she was pretty. It would definitely make her feel better. Pretty and really smart. And good with handling many responsibilities. And caring.

It was egoistic, she reprimanded herself. Smart and pretty would do.

Later that night she had a dream with Ron, but it was as far from what she wished as could be. He was holding a paper in his hand and said "Blimey, Hermione, have you seen your results? I can't believe that, you've failed EVERYTHING!"

She woke up suddenly, panting heavily with her heart racing at enormous speed. It was just another nightmare, and she had them now on nightly basis.

Everyone left the Potion classroom in a rush. Everyone, except Katia. Professor Snape told her to stay, and he had said it with a smile that was usually saved for Harry Potter.

"Miss Ivanov, as the month period ended I would like you to tell me, what progress did you make with two students I left for your care."

Katia cringed at the thought of prolonged torture that was Fattybella and Fattybert. She pressed her lips together, thinking about the near fatal accident with Neville.

"They've made no progress sir," she stated.

Snape towered over her and leaned down a little, his voice lowered a bit. "And why would that be, Miss Ivanov? I gave you an access to the Potion classroom with all ingredients available and a lot of time to prepare their lessons, because you had to teach them only twice a week. Was it too little time for you?"

Katia straightened and joined hands behind her back, lacing fingers tightly. "No, sir. I've prepared a detailed work plan for them but they just have absolutely no talent in Potions, sir."

Snape shook his head slightly. "Tsk tsk. Someone is not telling me the truth. Is it you, or maybe is it them all shaky and more clumsy than ever?"

"Sir, I strongly disagree with what you said. They were clumsy from the beginning and I merely maintained your standards and methods for the lessons to be more realistic. They didn't come to play with cauldrons and ingredients that are both expensive and dangerous, especially dangerous in wrong hands."

Snape circled her and watched her reactions, but she stood still and didn't turn or twitch under his glare. "What you did Miss Ivanov, was gaining the exact opposite result than the one I simply asked for. They didn't improve, because instead of teaching, you've harassed and intimidated them which was the worst the method you could choose."

She bit back a remark and barely stopped herself from snorting. Professor Snape was reprimanding her, because she used his exact methods. But the truth was that she'd seen Neville's and her failure looking at them and raised the stick very high. She pushed them and mocked them and gave them huge homework.

"You've failed me, Miss Ivanov, while I was expecting so much better of you."

Katia hung her head down in shame. She thought about the pain she felt along with Snape and swallowed a lump in her throat.

"You've treated the opportunity that I gave you, to show your talent and skill in Potions as a punishment and wasted a chance to prove yourself."

Her eyes filled with tears, but she fought hard to not let them fall. It was like during lesson, when she was Snape and Annabelle left the classroom crying. She even used those nicknames on them and silently hoped they didn't tell Snape.

If her professor had any sympathy for her, she was sure it was gone now, and it hurt like hell, because Potions was the only thing she truly enjoyed before, before she broke the heart of only person the truly cared for beside her family.

"You were insecure Miss Ivanov and that's why you took extra precautions. Would you care to explain me, what troubled your mind so much, or would you like me to investigate it myself?"

No, in millions years! Snape should never ever find out the truth on his own. Her guilt over accident with Neville was only adding to that, and hell, if she screwed up anyway, she could at least drop this burden.

"I was trying to help Neville Longbottom and I am fully responsible for the accident. I knew he was terrified of you and it was just a matter of time that he dropped the vial I gave him to his cauldron. I should have foreseen it. I'm sorry sir." She sniffled loudly, but kept her stiff pose, looking at her toes. She risked a glance towards Snape and immediately regretted it.

Snape was livid. His mouth was pressed into thin line and his nostrils flared.

"The Potions exams are in two weeks time," he said in dangerously low tone, advancing her. "It's the last chance for you to prepare them."

She took a cautious step back. "Moreover, if I ever see you again chopping and tossing ingredients to the cauldron like it was a poorly cooked soup, I will mark your work as a Troll, despite the outcome. Is that clear, or should I translate it into Russian or whatever native language of yours and send you as a Howler?"

"It is clear, sir," she said, shaking. She barely registered that tears were running down her cheeks.

"I won't let your talent waste just because you can't deal with your life issues." Snape pointed at the door. "Out," he spat in a whisper.

She needn't telling twice. She fisted her hair and darted out of the classroom, sobbing.

Severus smirked seeing how fast she fled. He scored himself another point.

The Dementor pressed its hand against Katia's chest. She used Occlumency to shield her mind from the torrent of pictures. Katia imagined herself, thinking of her reflection in the mirror. Then she used a memory of herself having a spoon just beyond her reach, the image of library filled with the books followed it and lastly she concentrated on the strange cauldron from the Pensieve memories in the dark room.

I need to know about the cauldron, she voiced the thought. She lowered her defense, and let Dementor fill her mind with images. She saw an old tree trunk, a grey haired woman who was tiny from being so old and the clock.

It was long ago, she made an interpretation.

She thought about one apple, a plate full of apples and then hundreds of baskets full of apples.

I need to know more. A lot more.

Once she tried her hand in Dementorish – from lack of better word, it turned out to be simple, but hard at the same time. The rule was really simple= show images of what you want to say and receive reply the same way, but actually expressing herself through sequence of images was a real pain.

She could talk to them verbally, but now it was really rare. They couldn't understand spoken language because they didn't use words. Instead, they got a grasp of intentions of the speaker and fragments of images associated to the sentences. It took her four months to grasp the basics and still, after many more months, she was far from fluent.

What is your name?

She used images of Weasley waving at Potter, mouthing 'Harry' and two people shaking hands when they introduced themselves. In a response, she saw rotting leaves during rainy day, a corpse in state of half decomposing, and a dead squirrel, followed by an image of its skeleton.

The Decay, she thought.

They usually had 'names' like this. They were creatures that breed in the dark, damp places, like fungus. She should be repulsed by them, but they were more like big pets for her. Big ugly pets that fed on good memories and souls, but still related to her in some way. Just less advanced spellwork.

Argus Filch stood not far away from her, frowning with concentration while having similar conversation with other Dementor.

Later they went to Filch's room and compared what they've learned. It was still not enough, because to understand the process, they needed to translate notes from Latin.

Argus Filch made some progress in learning the language, but it was just the beginning. Not nearly enough to decipher the notes.

Katia put a strand of hair behind her ear. "I wonder if you remember when you said something about feeling my pain when I was fed with that damned love potion."

Filch could recall it surprisingly vividly. "Sure I do. I wasn't the one who felt it, cause' Snape's expression spoke volumes when he had to touch you."

'Had to touch you' sounded like she was filthy and disgusting to her professor. But Filch usually picked the right words to describe the situation. "Yes, I remember, but I didn't give it much thought until recently. There was a potion accident during classes and Professor Snape got burned. I felt the pain when I touched him to put the antidote."

Filch's eyebrows rose. Adele will be crying of laugher when he finally got so pissed that he'll see her. "Are you suggesting that he's the one of us?"

A/N: Thank you Artemis :) For corrections of course! And tons of hugs for CerenbusSnapeMalfoy! I worked during weekend and I was unable to ppost the chapter as well as to write back to everyone who Pm-ed me. Sorry! Christmas break is soon, so I'll have more time and I'll try to update my other stories as well. Just two or three chapters and we will have Severus in the story as well. The rating will change to M though.

Anyone knows if it's possible to put a warning before a certain part of a chapter instead of rating M the whole story? PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE give me some advice about the rating!