Title: Blue October, Volume Two – Chapter Three.
Author: Woodland Goddess.
Rated: M
Author's Note: Well, this chapter was a long time coming. Ugh, so many things distracted me in the past year. I'm so sorry for neglecting this story for so long, but I'm trying to get back into the swing of working on this.
Chapter Three: Echo
Severus woke with a yell and his hands came to brace themselves against the mattress, preventing himself from falling backwards. His arms trembled minutely as his chest heaved, his heart trying to burst out through his ribcage. A cold sweat drenched his skin and his pyjamas adhered to him. Tangled locks of raven hair framed his face, swaying with every gust of breath that rushed out of him. The greenish light filtering in through the lake-window was a comfort to him. It reminded him where he was and, more importantly, where he was not.
Their beds in various states of disarray, the boys on the other side of the room slept on. That was good; he hardly wished to be monitored after waking from a nightmare, particularly one that featured Tobias. Severus rubbed his face roughly with one hand and kept the other braced against the bed. It made no improvement on his sweatiness, but he felt marginally better for having done so. Shifting, he came to sit of the edge of the bed and pushed his hair out of his face.
The sight of blue eyes peering at him from above a fold of blanket almost sent him toppling off his bed in surprise. One large ear protruded from a head full of dark hair. His voice barely more than a concerned whisper, Evan asked, "Are you alright? That dream didn't sound very nice." Back rigid and face expressionless, Severus ignored this unwanted thread of conversation and hoped the boy would fall back to sleep. Hoped the boy would believe himself to have dreamt their interaction. "It's okay, you know, having bad dreams."
Knuckles whitened as his hands momentarily clenched in the blankets before he forced himself to relax. Severus rose from the bed after a moment and hurriedly walked past Evan's bed. Concerned eyes burned holes between his shoulder blades as he made his way towards his delegated armoire. Like the other boys, he had made sure to put his clothes away before climbing into bed the night before. Evan's concern greatly unnerved him. Generally, people were not nice. The very word was a derisive sneer – almost a snarl – in his mind. There was almost always an agenda behind such kindness.
Severus fetched a selection of clothes from his armoire, his mouth thinning at the state of his school uniform. With his shoes clutched in his hand and his clothes hanging from the crook of his elbow, the young wizard strode from the room and crossed to the lavatories. The marble counters and porcelain sinks, tiles and varnished doors gleamed before him, dark and welcoming all the same. The mirrors above the sinks stretched on for several feet before turning around a corner, the rest of the room hidden from view. He had to assume the path led to baths or shower stalls.
His mouth twisting in a sneer at the needless display of luxury, Severus slipped around the corner, his spine rigid with discomfort. Dark eyes flicked around the available space. He took note of the deep bath in one far corner, the line of shower stalls along the opposite wall and a collection of shelves that housed numerous phials of upscale hair products and folded black towels, and provided free space to rest clothes. Setting his clothes aside, he selected a towel so large he was certain he could drown in it.
The shower, Severus learned soon afterwards, only took ten minutes, though it seemed to take forty. The water having scalded him deliciously, his skin was red when he escaped the torrent. The pressure had been wonderful – far better than anything he had experienced back in Cokeworth. Feeling cleaner than he had in months, Severus quickly rubbed himself dry with a towel that could easily fit seven of him in its folds. It was fortunate that he had just finished dressing when a tall fellow came around the corner and almost bumped in to him.
"Watch it," said the boy, presumably a seventh year, considering the noticeable sideburns and scruff. The young wizard made a hasty retreat with his pyjamas tucked under his arm. Evan was sitting on the edge of his bed when Severus returned to the first year dorm, eyeing him speculatively. The other boys were beginning to groggily pull themselves out of bed. Falco Borgin tangled himself in the sheets and fell out of his with a nerve-jangling squeak, almost hitting his head on his bedside locker.
The idiot laughed it off as if it were a commonplace occurrence.
Opting to ignore the others, Severus folded his pyjamas and slid them beneath his pillow. It was strange, being surrounded by these boys when just yesterday he had risen to the sound of his mother's voice, the touch of her hand. Several memories flickered across his mind: the scent of burnt toast from her skirts; the strands that came loose from the chignon she wore when brewing; the morose curl of her mouth; the paranoid flicking of dark eyes. Severus busied himself with finding the location of his comb, resisting the urge to curl his hands into fists. He fetched his satchel as soon as he finished grooming and assured himself that everything he might possibly need that day was nestled inside. Light as a feather and undetectable at first glance, it would have been all too easy to miss something. Finally ready, Severus left the dormitory without a word to the others. Even so, he could feel the weight of Evan's gaze between his shoulder blades.
But his nightmares were none of the boy's business and Severus refused to admit to any weakness in front of the others, knowing his weaknesses would only be exploited.
Such was human nature, after all.
Just as Narcissa had predicted, a man he had to assume was the Head of House stood in the heart of the Common Room. He waited for them. Though he was a heavy-set fellow, he exuded an air of confidence and a certain happiness that left Severus feeling uncomfortable.
"Good morning," greeted Professor Slughorn, his large moustache quivering. Severus managed to offer a strained approximation of a smile in return. His hand tightened around the strap of his satchel as he wandered over to the fireplace, soaking up the warmth from the lingering fire. "You must be Eileen's boy; you look very like her." Curious and hostile all at once, dark eyes flicked in Professor Slughorn's direction. If a single person made one more derogatory comment about his mother, he would...he was not certain what he would do, but he knew it would be malicious in nature and fuelled by his growing anger. "She was one of my best students, you know, very bright and sharp as a blade," the man continued proudly, waddling over to join Severus by the fire. The gold embroidery on his pale green robes shimmered as he moved. "I had high hopes for her, quite high."
Professor Slughorn might have expounded further on the matter had the door to the dormitories not opened, a number of students bustling in to the Common Room. As cheerful as ever, he greeted them all. Soon all the first years had gathered. The elder students flanked Professor Slughorn when the Prefects and Lucius joined them in the Common Room.
The Head of House stood before them and looked at each one intently.
"I hope sleep found you all at a reasonable hour last night: you have a long day ahead of you. Classes will commence after breakfast." An encouraging smile lit up his face. "Now, I must impart a few rules before we part ways, though I'm certain our Mr Malfoy would rather have you all believe them to be mere guidelines."
Chortling, Professor Slughorn cast a sly glance at Lucius, whose back straightened at the reference. A smirk tugged at the seventh year's lips, aristocratic and marginally deferential as he inclined his head towards the man in acknowledgement. Narcissa struggled to keep a genuine smile at bay, her hands clasped behind her back. The other Prefects chuckled.
"Theft and destruction of property are not condoned. The punishment will be severe should I catch any one of you red-handed." Severus, whose idea of punishment was his father's venting of anger, eyed the Professor warily. Surely, such harsh methods would never be condoned at schools? The mere idea caused the length of his body to tense up, hands curling in to fists, spine aching, legs ready for immediate flight. "Duelling in the corridors is forbidden. Leaving the Slytherin Dungeon after curfew is prohibited."
"Is there anything," an irritated Barberus enquired with arms folded across his chest, "we actually can do?"
"You can be silent until spoken to directly, and respect your betters," said Lucius, whose tone bypassed cold and submerging into frostbitten. Grey eyes flooded with indignation when Professor Slughorn waved his words away with a dismissive hand as if to say: now, now, boys will be boys. The Head Boy's lip curled in disdain and he cast his gaze into the fireplace. Watching him, Severus realised the elder boy preferred it when his opinions were taken in to account. That he welcomed deferential treatment.
When Professor Slughorn revealed that he had collected their timetables from the Headmaster, the Prefects began distributing them while he had a brief word with Lucius in private. Dark eyes watched them discreetly until a schedule was pressed into Severus' hands by Narcissa, who gave him a small smile of recognition. Unwilling to partake of the chatter that bubbled up, Severus slipped out of the Common Room and left the Slytherin Dungeon altogether. Though he could feel the painted man's eyes staring after him, burning holes between his shoulder blades, the portrait of Professor Viridian went unacknowledged.
Once Severus reached the Viaduct Entrance he struggled to pull open the large double doors a fraction and slipped through the gap. Severus inhaled the crisp morning air and let his breath out in a rush several times as he stepped out onto the viaduct. This – the large expanse of hills and grass and countryside that loomed on either side of him – was worth the sharp ache shooting up his left arm in the autumn chill. He moved to the side of the large viaduct. Severus peered down over the edge, hands braced against the rough stone. A vast crag lay below him, sharp and jagged points jutting out of the rock-face. At the base of the crevice a river rushed through, deep and swift and foaming in places. The mere sight of it threatened to steal his breath away. A bubble of something akin to delight rose within his chest and spread out towards his limbs. Bringing his fingers to his lips, Severus let loose a loud and shrill whistle when he straightened, and listened to it echo down through crevice. A smile, barely visible but very real, was wrenched from him before he could stop it.
Mordred found him some moments later, clever eyes glittering as the raven came to land upon the stonework. Black feathers ruffled in pleasure as Severus stroked a finger down the back of Mordred's head. The young Wizard sat down then and braced his back against the stone as he rooted through his belongings for a quill, ink and some parchment. Severus smoothed out the parchment against his leg and dipped the quill in to the inkpot, which rested on the stone beside him. Lips pursed in thought, he began writing.
Harry,
I know you're worrying, but you can put your mind at ease; we arrived safely and without incident. The journey, while long and tiring, wasn't entirely horrible. The lady in charge of the trolley was very kind, though she grew exasperated when Lily spent the money you gave her. She purchased a bit of everything, the little savage. She shared her bounty with me and a pair of boys that shared our compartment, though. So, I wasn't terribly displeased by the waste as you can imagine.
A few horrid boys made my acquaintance on the train, but I should hopefully be able to avoid them outside of class. They were sorted into Gryffindor, where dwell the reckless and rude. Lily, to my misfortune, was sorted alongside them. I'm certain she'll be a stunning exception.
Gryffindor is just one house. There are three others: Ravenclaw, the house for the academically and creatively inclined; Hufflepuff, an inanely happy lot from the look of them; and Slytherin, which houses the perpetually ambitious. That's my house.
My dorm is comprised of five Slytherin boys, including myself. One of the others is an estranged cousin of mine, but I'd be grateful if you could keep that information to yourself. Mum doesn't need to know. It would only worry her. Another boy, Evan Rosier, is rather nosy. I don't particularly like him, but I suppose he's tolerable. For now, at any rate. On another note, we met our Head of House this morning. I'm not certain what to make of him; he seems more jovial than I expected, but beggars can't be choosers.
Classes begin today, following breakfast. I look forward to seeing Lily once more – she will certainly love the subjects available. Slytherin is banded with Gryffindor for Defence Against The Dark Arts, Transfiguration, and Potions; Ravenclaw for History of Magic and Astronomy; and Hufflepuff for Charms and Herbology. Flying Lessons are instructed to all houses simultaneously, it seems. The very idea seems needlessly dangerous. If someone ends up breaking a leg, I shan't be surprised.
I'd better be going; I've dawdled long enough. It's time now to mingle with the mindless masses.
I'll write again soon.
– Severus.
The young wizard hurriedly dried the ink with a surge of will-induced magic and rolled it up. Mordred held out one leg and wrapped his talons around the letter.
"Take it to Mr Evans," Severus instructed lightly. With a loud caw, the raven took flight. Severus lingered on the viaduct for several moments, simply watching his feathered familiar disappear into the horizon. Shoulders heaving with a heavy sigh, Severus shouldered his satchel and reluctantly strode off in search of the Great Hall.
Finding it was relatively simple, though he did take a few wrong turns along the way. Passing through the double doors, however, proved difficult. Severus was almost through the doors when a blast of cold energy struck him in the torso, toppling him backwards aggressively. His back hit the hard stone floor, the force of it knocking the wind out of his lungs in a rush.
"Ow," he groused. He pushed himself up with trembling arms and legs. Dark eyes observed the entryway with malicious intensity, wondering where the force had come from.
If the cause had been that Potter boy, he would...do something, something unpleasant probably.
"You're not the first, Severus; don't worry." Narcissa's familiar voice floated over from somewhere behind him. Whirling around revealed the Prefect as she emerged from the dungeon. Her lengthy strides carried her across the Entrance Hall. Coming to a stop beside Severus, she rested a gentle hand upon his shoulder. The resultant flinch was muted, but present nevertheless. Severus silently cursed his skittishness as Narcissa glanced at him curiously, but the moment passed after a heartbeat. Tossing her blonde hair over her shoulder, Narcissa turned to look at the entrance to the Great Hall.
"Grubb, show yourself," ordered the Prefect coldly. Summoned by her words, a heavy-set Victorian ghost materialised before their very eyes. "What have I told you about blocking the doorway?"
Grubb sniffed and glared at her spitefully, folding his arms across his chest.
"I told you," she reminded him helpfully, "if I caught you at it again, you'd regret it." Narcissa reached in to her robes and withdrew her wand with a flourish, brandishing it threateningly. Though it seemed impossible, Grubb grew paler in the face of Narcissa and her wand. The expression on the Prefect's face was fierce. The ghost took off hurriedly and Narcissa laughed as she stowed her wand away. Winking at Severus as though he were privy to a guarded secret, the elder girl explained quickly, "That was Edmund Grubb, who's been a rather spiteful chap ever since his son slipped poisonous berries in to his dessert. But he's all bluster and no bite. Mostly."
Gentle hands found Severus' shoulders, and lowering herself to his level, Narcissa stared into his face.
Feeling distinctly uncomfortable, the young wizard dropped his gaze to the floor.
"If anyone, ghost or otherwise, gives you any trouble you must come to me or one of the other Prefects. Dealing with such things may not be our job, from an official point of view, but we look after our own. No matter our differences, if one of us is stung, the rest of us will rise up to defend them. Remember that and you'll do alright here."
Daring to glance up, Severus was immediately disconcerted by the soft smile gracing Narcissa's face. She squeezed his shoulders warmly, the touch fleeting, and straightened gracefully. Black robes swirled in her wake as she turned on quick feet and disappeared in to the Great Hall. Something twisted sharply inside him and Severus followed after her, finding himself seated at the Slytherin table in no time at all. He might have said something in response to the Prefect's words had he not been distracted by the arrival of Lily.
"Severus," called the Gryffindor excitedly, dashing down the length of the Great Hall towards him. Her crimson hair flew behind her, shining in the morning light. Bright-eyed, Lily threw herself down upon the bench beside him. Cheeks flushed with her happiness, Lily hugged him with fierce vigour, causing a twinge of pain to flare up in his back from when he had hit the floor in the Entrance Hall. "We have Defence Against The Dark Arts together!"
"I'm aware," muttered Severus, glancing sideways as the seated Slytherins shuffled away. Lily noticed nothing, too busy waving her timetable at him in her excitement. She began expounding on all the things she wanted to learn and Severus listened absently while buttering some toast to distract himself from the gaping emptiness between him and the rest of his house...
To Be Continued.
Yay, house-bonding moments! But nay, also house-distancing moments.
Anyway, let it be noted that Edmund Grubb is a quasi-canon Harry Potter character mentioned on Pottermore, who died due to eating poisonous berries and sometimes prevents students from entering the Great Hall out of spite. I didn't create him, or anything; just added my own spin on how his death came about.
Feel free to let me know what you guys think.