Your second fix for today - enjoy ;)


"This will hurt a bit." She whispered in the niche as she applied the salve to the wound of the third-year – the boy nodded and successfully stifled a hiss of pain when Meredius put the ointment to his bleeding hands.

She smiled when she could tell that the cooling effect took hold of the hands and then the numbness set in – the boy relaxed his shoulders and she continued to apply the salve in generous amounts in silence. The cuts and bruises from whatever curse had been directed at him paled and vanished as the effects took hold and within minutes the hands were as pale as they had been before.

"Thank you." The boy smiled and Meredius smiled back carefully.

"There is nothing to thank for – make sure they don't see your hands too soon, alright?" The third-year nodded and then silently crept out of the niche they had occupied. Marlene leant back, relishing in the strong support the stone behind her gave as she closed her eyes.

They had estimated that things would be different at Hogwarts now that Dumbledore was no more. However their estimations had not gotten even close to the truth in any way.

Snape was headmaster and Death Eaters crawled all over the place supposed to be Professors. The Carrow-brothers could hardly be described as teachers lest of all human – they were dark, through and through; it was not hard to picture them bowing to Voldemort. Marlene's face contorted in a bitter mine.

Hogwarts had once been a shelter for young people, young wizards, muggle-born or pure-blooded or mixed – now however it had become an infiltrated fortress, students were terrorized daily, tortured even if one of the Carrows had a bad day. Chaos ensued everywhere, no one could trust another one anymore, save for Slytherin, not a house had been able to gain points at all, for even if the original professors awarded them, they'd be taken away by one of the imposters again.

Marlene watched the professors struggle along with the students – they didn't have it easy either. McGonagall was under constant surveillance by one of the Carrows, Flitwick had been denounced as professor because he was Half-Gimp, Hagrid had taken flight as well, cancelling Care Of Magical Creatures for a total of three months, before another Death Eater had been put in position, Trelawney never dared to talk at all anymore for it had been her prophecy after all that had put them all in this position, and the rest of the professors had to deal with daily dressing downs and threats.

The one person who had stayed the same all the while through was the one person Marlene thought about most often.

Snape still ate his meal in silence, still prowled the hallways, sometimes assigned detention with him personally – but Marlene had her doubts about the man. She'd been to most of those detentions with him, she probably had a record number of detentions with Headmaster Snape. He had her write letters for him, had her brew potions, do additional essays on inferi, werewolves, trolls, giants and whatever creatures he could think of.

Marlene knew about the Death Eater meetings, when they would happen, where – she leaked the information to Harry, who in turn would tell the Order and if they were stealthy enough, they could capture one or two Death Eaters, they would not be missed too much and slowly but surely the Order could take the Dark Army apart.

Marlene could deduct what creatures Voldemort probably had pulled to his side due to the essays she wrote – she leaked the information to Harry, who in turn told the Order and equally prepared the DA for them.

Marlene always brewed healing potions – she stole them occasionally and Snape never noticed when she put a few bottles into her robes, the Room Of Requirement would later also allow her to rebrew the concoction and she got better with the time.

She knew not what to make of the man – surely he knew that she leaked the information and stole the potions he had her brew. The young wizard stood up from his spot in the niche and checked the corridor – no one there. Disillusioning herself, she stole through the corridor into the Great Hall, where she dissolved the charm before entering.

It was silent there, even though the evening meal had already begun and the whole Hall was full with students. At the head table, Snape ate his soup, quiet and graceful in comparison to the rest of the Death Eaters – his eyes darting around the room. When his eyes landed on hers, she suddenly had a frightening epiphany.

What if Snape was an Occlumens?

Her walls, meek though they might be, were put in place all the time anyways, but now she reinforced them, hoping that he would not realize and put her off as a natural Occlumens – even if that was rare – or that perhaps he would not even try to prod her. He didn't.

Holding his gaze evenly, she sat down at the table of her own house and started to eat casually. Meredius didn't speak during meal, but he took in the happenings on his table – he noticed that every day they got less and less, because their house had many muggle-born wizards, he noticed that those that had befriended those muggles never looked good nowadays, sick of worry, and that most of the food was left untouched.

Her thoughts returned to Snape. What should she think of him? Why did he act the way he did? Detentions with Snape were always the 'best' detentions and secretly students always prayed that they would get detention with the headmaster instead of one of the Carrows or another Death Eater, the usual professors were no longer allowed to hand out detentions – sick as it was, it was the truth. Snape did nothing against the tortures and yet it seemed as if he did his best to keep the numbers of hurt people at a minimum.

"Midas." Marlene was torn out of her thoughts by the one voice she had thought about – looking up from her meal, she found that, indeed, the headmaster stood behind her: tall, dark, foreboding. "Detention with me, eight o'clock – next time maybe you should not be caught with another student in an alcove."

She scowled not and reacted not in the slightest way when the man stalked away again, billowing cloak and all, her table shared looks of understanding with her. Officially, Meredius Midas was homosexual and she could do just fine with that – it was easier to be homosexual than to actually admit that she was a girl and the whole school knew that whenever she would serve detentions for this 'moral misbehaviour' she had actually just again helped one of those kids out that had not been able to make it to the infirmary.

Huffelpuff had grown an immense backbone where their second-year hero was concerned and Harry and Ron sought her out as often as possible to show that they heard and that they knew just who took care of the invalids.


Snape watched the young wizard brew the Bone Regrown – he'd need it, they'd need it. The Carrows were becoming care- and ruthless with their Cruciatus and it had happened more than once already that a student had broken several bones after having had a Carrow-wand pointed at him.

The headmaster wished to sink his head in his hands and cry – he wanted to sit immobile and let the whole world crumble above him, simply watch and do nothing. But he knew that he could not do that.

Marlene was the last of the Black Phoenix Witches, so much depended on her. She was his secret link to the Order, via Harry Potter, she was the Angel he had cultivated by letting her brew potions and taking them with her to heal the students, she was the Informant of Harry Potter and the Order and she was the one person who informed Hermione, Luna and Pansy about the happenings in Hogwarts.

So much depended already on the young girl and she held up like a warrior in captive – stayed out of fights, evaded the Carrows as much as possible, shut her mouth, never said a word that could be misunderstood and yet she was an active member of the DA and the Black Phoenix Witches.

He liked to have her close. Sometimes he imagined that having her close meant that Hermione had forgiven him, even though she still cried while he pleaded for her to open her eyes and look at him. He imagined that having Marlene close let him atone for everything that he had done to Hermione – for letting Cho die, for killing Albus, for expelling her from the world that she had made her world, for breaking her heart. If he could keep Marlene alive, he hoped, then maybe Hermione would forgive him one day, maybe she would come back to him.

Rationally he was aware that it was unlikely.

The trench he had dug between Hermione and him, the rift he had torn, was too big. They had gotten along somehow, they had shared an understanding of sorts, and he had kissed her – if only in his dreams (their dreams), but he had kissed her – and he had hoped that one day maybe she would be the one to absolve him. He knew that only Hermione could do so. He would slave until the end of days if she said that he had not yet atoned for his sins, but he would be free if she said so.

You have a treacherous heart – his conscience whispered by night, when he prepared yet again for another night of pleading for her to look at him.

Indeed, his heart was treacherous. It had latched to a student, in hopes that she would save the world he lived in, it had latched to her strength, hoping that she would keep them both standing and now she held it, unable to give it away, because he guessed that his heart was her only assurance that one day her own heart would be whole again.

On everything that was sacred to him, he wanted to keep Marlene alive. Maybe she would be the one person to release him from this earth – kill him mercifully or recklessly, he cared not – or perhaps she would even see what good he had done, much like Hermione had. Now that not even this witch wanted to see him anymore, the only one who still believed that he had a grain of good in him was probably Marlene.


Harry carefully brushed his hand through Crookshank's fur – the Half-Kneazle purred contentedly and closed its eyes. Sometimes the young man wished he could swap places with the animal; nothing to do all day, fending only for one's personal life, eating, sleeping, reproducing, never a thought of death until it came – that had to be a nice life.

As he continued to pet the animal, he thought of Hermes.

Meredius had no idea where his fellow Gryffindor was at the moment and Harry had not heard of the Book Shrimp since they had parted ways for the summer holidays. Harry had gone to the Burrow with the whole Weasley clan, while Hermione had watched them walk away.

He had intended to visit her at the Leaky Cauldron, but had been told that it had closed down; his house comrade had hence nowhere to go and Harry was anxious to know just how he had passed his summer, because safe for Hermes' appearances in the Daily Prophet he had no idea just what had happened to the young man. Harry was not allowed to send an owl, was not allowed to contact him somehow.

Of course, he'd come to the conclusion that neither Lysander nor Parcival were in real danger from Hermes – after all, they were the best of friends and wherever Hermes was, the other two were as well. Only Meredius had returned to Hogwarts, mostly probably because he was the youngest and safest in the school – Meredius was a pure-blood after all, even though he kept out of all the politics.

The raven-haired boy thought about the freckled second-year. He was an interesting little individual, Meredius. In classes he gave his best, and yet remained passive, he healed hurt students and yet was never caught in the corridors, he was an active member of the DA and yet never got into trouble, safe for the detentions with Snape and even then Meredius always returned with interesting information. Harry sighed; he would have liked to believe Hermes – that Snape was a 'good' person, that he had a certain position – but it was obvious that Snape was not a good person. After all, why would he let the students be tortured right under his giant nose?


"Crucio!"

Marlene fell without a sound. The curse burnt inside of her and she gave up the try to not convulse, instead letting her limbs flail around her as she held on to her Glamours and her silence. The Carrow above her – she could not tell them apart – sneered when he realized that he would not be able to derive his usual pleasure from her.

"CRUCIO!"

The curse was mind-numbing. It was hurtful and Marlene knew that she would probably not be able to hold up much longer anymore, she had lost any sense of time. Around her the Great Hall was silent – or was it? She could not tell, but by the way her house comrades looked at her, their mouths sealed in silent shock, she figured that probably the whole Hall was silent and watched as she convulsed on the stony floor.

If she could have, she would have smiled bitterly. "CRUCIO!" After all, she'd been able to survive until now, had not called anyone's attention to her and now, in the Ides of March, she had been found out. She had been careless, she scolded herself; she should never have handed the salve over, it was clear that people had no idea how to be stealthy and now she had fucked it up.

"Ugh." She pushed the blood through her lips, intent on passing silently instead of screaming and yelling – her muscles were starting to crush her bones, she could feel it in her arms, she could tell by the way her head hurt. So that was what death felt like.

Sound evaded her, feeling fled from her, and blackness surrounded her for a second – before all of a sudden, the numbness vanished. She felt like flying for moments, before she lost her consciousness again, drifting in and out of wakefulness.

When she woke up, the sky above her was dark, stars littered the firmament, a river gurgled somewhere nearby and right next to the stars appeared Headmaster Snape's head.

"Marlene, you're awake." She tried to smile, but she could not – she could no longer feel herself, could no longer move, her weakened mind figured that she had been tortured for too long, she would probably not make it through the night. Her heart would be squashed by either one of the aftershocks of the curse, or it was already weakened and beat only out of habit.

"Come on, girl, stay, please." His eyes were strangely glittering when she looked up at him, she wanted to clear the tear away from his cheek, but she could not. He talked to her as he held her, and she listened to his voice, took in the dark timbre of it, as it vibrated through her form and lulled her into sleep – dark and unyielding but so welcoming, and when she embraced it, she finally found the strength to smile.


It seems I have a tendency for killing Huffelpuffs :'( and I even liked Marlene...

(Then again, I am a writer and as such, am the god of my story... that or a stringed puppet to my muse...)

Review please, I'll go cry