A heartfelt thank you needs to go out to the following for leaving such wonderful reviews on the last chapter: TardisGhost, stubs1101, Cat2k10, szaboalexandra1991, FaeGhostReader, CygnusRift, Guest reader, d'elfe, animechick247, angelintraining118, and AnimeFreak71777. Thank you guys - your continued support really means the world to me.
Here is the next chapter. I hope it will offer a moment of distraction during this whole Coronavirus pandemic. And I hope everyone stays safe during these time.
Friday rolled around with swift procession and Lauren found herself once again alone with Snape, the Potion's lesson for the day now at an end.
"Do you really have to be such an ass to Harry and Neville?" she asked heatedly as the door closed firmly behind the last student– a visibly disgruntled Gryffindor boy. She couldn't much blame the Gryffindors for being livid. Hell, even she was unable to overlook Snape's surly temperament today.
Their lesson had been rather vicious, even by Snape's standards, and neither of the aforementioned boys had escaped Snape's scathing and belittling remarks as he publicly humiliated them in front of the entire class. Neville she could understand – the accident-prone boy had succeeded in blowing up his cauldron yet again. Lauren had lost count of how many cauldrons that was now.
But Harry had done nothing to deserve Snape's tyranny. Severus had just conveniently chosen him to pick on in a childish fit of temper.
"Yes," Severus snapped from his position behind his desk. His long fingers were steepled in front of him as he settled back in his chair, his dark eyes glinting dangerously as he studied her.
Lauren shook her head, sending her long waves tumbling over her shoulders as she advanced towards his desk. "That's petty, even for you. Get over your grudge already…Sir." She said his title with as much contempt as she could muster.
Snape's eyes narrowed, his body stilling. The air between them was immediately charged with thick tension. Lauren was reminded of a snake, coiled and readying to strike with lightning fast reflexes. If Lauren was less foolhardy, or stubborn, she would have heeded the warning signs and have fled right there and then. Instead, she glared right back at him, her arms crossed firmly over her chest.
"You think this is merely a grudge am I harboring towards his father?" Snape asked, his words low and pronounced, each syllable carefully enunciated.
Lauren arched a brow, clearly indicating that this was exactly what she thought.
Snape rose slowly to his feet and clutched the edge of his desk, leaning forward as he spoke so that he was now eye level with her.
"You know nothing," he hissed.
Lauren barked out a harsh laugh. "I know more than you think."
Snape growled low in his throat, clearly displeased that she did, in fact, know far more about him than was comfortable. Lauren couldn't much blame him for his apparent displeasure, for Snape was a very guarded and reserved man who kept his secrets chained under lock and key.
And even though he put on this act of being dislikeable – okay, maybe it wasn't wholly an act, as Snape harbored no secret love for Harry – she knew that deep down he did care. If he didn't, he wouldn't endure unimaginable torture at the hands of Voldemort in the years to come, spilling his blood to ensure their safety and that the Order would have a chance of winning the war.
"If you know everything, as you so claim, then you would realize my motives as well as my reasons for treating the boy the way I do," he sneered, shooting her a disgusted look that matched his barbed words.
Lauren paused and thought about it. Really thought about it. Snape was a Slytherin through and through. His every move and action were made with careful thought and deliberation. There was a higher motive behind it all.
"You need him to hate you," she said slowly. Snape remained motionless as he waited for her to connect the dots. "You need your so-called mutual hatred for each other to be publicly known so that there will be no doubts about your loyalty when Vol…"
Lauren snapped her mouth shut when Severus let out a pained hiss at her almost saying Voldemort's name out loud, her stomach coiling into a tight knot as she realized that she had come very close to revealing that Voldemort would return to power in the near future.
Fuckity fuck! Dumbledore warned me to keep my trap shut!
Lauren took a tentative step back from the desk, her eyes wide.
Snape slowly straightened up; his features expressionless as he regarded her dispassionately.
"The Dark Lord will return. This is as certain as the sun rising in the East, Miss Ward," he drawled as he turned his back on her and made his way to one of the shelves lined with pickled unknowns. His features were set in hard lines of concentration as he continued. "You have not revealed anything I do not already suspect. It's only a matter of time."
Lauren swallowed hard and nodded, even though Snape couldn't see her. She stared at his rigid back, wondering how he could be so calm, blasé even. She felt as though the knowledge she possessed was going to tear her apart.
"This is partly the reason I asked you to stay after class today."
Lauren frowned confusedly at his words. "You want me to tell you what's going to happen?"
Snape turned around to face her and rolled his eyes, reverting back to his usual snarky self. "Miss Ward, please do not discredit what little esteem I hold for you by spewing such foolish things."
Lauren flushed in embarrassment, though a small part of her was downright flummoxed that Snape held any sort of respect for her.
"Now, when the Dark Lord returns, it is safe to presume that war will be upon us. It is best to be prepared for the dark times ahead of us. And seeing as you have been dragged into this mess, Miss Ward, it is best to prepare you as well."
Lauren cocked her head, studying his profile with a critical eye.
"Prepare me how?"
Clasping his hands behind his back, Snape replied, "You have shown an aptitude for Potions in a markedly short amount of time – once you overcame your stubborn refusal to accept things." Snape shot her a look; a look that was reminiscent of one a father would give his misbehaving child. "I do believe you have the instincts to brew perfectly acceptable potions."
This, coming from Snape, was a very high compliment indeed. Lauren, for once, had no smart-assed comment to add.
"I intend to teach you the necessary potions you will need for what is to come."
Lauren nodded slowly, processing his words. She was now a part of events, and whether she liked it or not, she was going to be involved in this war. And, as Snape had stated, she needed to learn some vital skills if she was to have any hope of surviving. And, if there was one person she trusted to help pull her through this, it was Snape.
"Today, I will be teaching you how to brew a Pepper-Up potion."
Lauren frowned. "Isn't that used to treat the common cold?"
"Yes. It also has restorative properties – something you are in need of if your…sleepless nights remain persistent."
He gave her a measured look. Then with a flick of his hand, writing appeared on the blackboard.
"You may begin."
Lauren stared at him, feeling dazed that he was even doing this for her. She was also grateful that he wasn't prying too much about her nightmare plagued dreams. Lauren was coping by choosing not to dwell on what happened to her, but at night she had no control over her subconscious. Though, she had noticed that the images were less intense now that she was practicing Occlumency.
"Today, Miss Ward," he drawled.
Lauren snapped out of her thoughts and read over the ingredients and instructions before making her way to the storeroom to gather the items she would need.
As she brewed, Snape drifted into her field of vision, standing on the other side of her desk as he watched her work.
As had been his custom since the revelation of their magical bond, Snape was ensuring that physical distance was maintained between them at all times. It would seem that he was just as wary of their connection as what she was. She had been diligently working on her Occlumency, but she still did not trust that she had enough control over her misbehaving magic. And, by the looks of it, neither did he.
Lauren ignored him as she stirred, concentrating intently on brewing, but her thoughts started to drift.
Lauren had to admit that she found it rather disconcerting that Snape was helping her by preparing her for what was to come. She had also noticed that he did not treat her like a child and could be downright civil towards her when the mood struck. This was very much at odds with the bristly persona he wore like an armor when he was around others. Snape, it would seem, was a very complicated man with equally complicated motives.
"You are the most complex person I have ever met," Lauren muttered, realizing with horror that she had said that out loud.
She dared to meet his gaze and saw that his brow was arched at her statement, though he remained unmoved by her observation.
"The same could be said for you, Miss Ward."
Lauren choked on her laugh. "Me? Complex? I'm as blunt and straightforward as they come. No mysteries when it comes to me."
"Yet you recovered from your…ordeal fairly quickly." Snape paused dramatically; his eyes boring into her with such intensity that it was making her feel rather uncomfortable. "Which leads me to believe that this is not the first traumatic episode you have endured."
Lauren ducked her head and kept her gaze resolutely trained on her bubbling cauldron.
"Am I to assume that your silence means that I am correct," he pressed.
"That," she stated through clenched teeth, "is none of your business."
There was a prolonged pause. "Yet, if you wish for me to teach you Occlumency, all your secrets, as well as certain knowledge, will be revealed to me. I will know you as intimately as you claim to know me," he drawled.
Lauren felt the blood drain from her face, but to her credit, she managed to keep her concentration on her potion.
"Do you still wish to proceed?" This was asked softly, without any derision or judgement.
Lauren finished adding the final ingredient and after three stirs, extinguished the flame under the cauldron. She gripped the edge of her desk, willing her heartrate to slow as she stared into her cauldron, thinking. Did she really want Snape to learn everything about her? When it came to her past, she was just as secretive as what he was. And then there was the danger of him glimpsing what was to come…
"Can I think about it?" she asked, a slight shake to her voice.
"Yes."
Lauren glanced up, unable to mask her relief. Snape regarded her for a moment without comment and then picked up the ladle from her workstation, dipping it into the cauldron. Bringing the spoon up to eye level, he tilted it slightly and let the liquid dribble back into the cauldron.
"Color and consistency are weak. You will need more practice to perfect this," he stated, placing the now empty ladle back onto the counter.
Lauren gave a nod; grateful they were now on a less dangerous topic.
"Next Friday I want you to attempt to brew this again. Once it meets my standards, we can proceed onto the next potion."
"I don't know…that might cut into my busy social life," she stated dryly. Snape eyed her and she couldn't help but flash him an impish grin. She thought she caught a flash of amusement in his dark eyes.
"I'll escort you back to your Common Room," he said, flicking his wand over her cauldron and effectively vanishing the contents within.
He strode over to the door and held it open for her. Lauren murmured her thanks as she passed him, though she noticed that he visibly stiffened when she came dangerously close to brushing against him.
As he shut the door behind them Lauren glanced up and gasped, clutching at his arm without thinking. Her magic instantly flared like a searing jolt of electricity, and she snatched her hand away with a heartfelt curse. Snape, for his part, had gone rigid, but not due to her touch or the use of swear word. He had now noticed what had caused her to panic.
Striding towards them, his bright turban sorely out of place in the gloom of the dungeons, was Professor Quirrell.
Snape stepped forward, angling his body so that he was now blocking Lauren from Quirrell's view.
"Professor Quirrell," Snape drawled as the other Professor neared them, his voice dripping with contemptuousness.
"P…P…Professor Snape," Quirrell greeted back nervously.
Lauren peered around Snape's dark robes and Quirrell's eyes instantly snapped in her direction.
"M…M…Miss Ward?" he stuttered. Lauren's eyes narrowed at the shrewd cunning she glimpsed in his features before he hastily replaced it with the stuttering, bumbling façade.
"Professor Quirrell," she replied cagily.
"W…W…What are you d…d…doing here?"
I could ask you the same thing, she thought.
"Miss Ward is a Slytherin and, as a Slytherin, resides in the dungeon. Her presence here is not suspicious. You, however, are not known to roam the dungeons…" Snape let his insinuation hang heavy in the air. His whole body was taut as he stood in front of her, and Lauren thought she glimpsed his wand slipping from the sleeve of his robe, hidden by the voluminous black. Snape's distrust of the Professor had skyrocketed since the Quidditch match.
Quirrell fidgeted under Snape's penetrating glare. "P…P…Peeves has been c…c…causing some disturbances. I c…c…came down here to make s…s…sure he wasn't causing any trouble here."
It was a plausible excuse – Peeves the Poltergeist was always up to mischief, but he very rarely wandered down to the dungeon, where the Bloody Baron was usually to be found. The Bloody Baron was one of the select few whom Peeves was truly scared of.
Lauren glanced up at Snape's profile and could immediately discern that he didn't buy this pathetic excuse.
"Miss Ward, kindly make your way back to your dorm. Now," Snape ordered out of the corner of his mouth.
Lauren didn't need to be told twice and hastily scampered away from the two Professors, but not before she heard Snape say, "Shall I help you search for Peeves?"
"T…t…that won't be n…n…necessary."
"I insist," Snape drawled silkily. An image of a spider coaxing a fly to its web sprang to Lauren's mind.
She did not hear Quirrell's stammered response as she raced back towards her dormitory. The fact that he was now venturing into the dungeons was not good. Not good at all.
~oOo~
Lauren received a note from Snape the following day saying that it would be inadvisable to continue with their private lessons for now. She was disappointed, but she knew that it wouldn't be wise, especially now that Quirrell was becoming bolder in his endeavors.
The Christmas holidays were soon upon them and the grounds were now covered in a thick white blanket of snow. It would have been quite picturesque if it wasn't so bloody cold. Lauren swore she could see her frosty breath whenever she was down in the dungeons.
All too soon most of the students had left the castle to return home for Christmas, including Tracey.
Lauren, as much as she hated to admit it, suddenly felt all alone. She was really starting to miss her little shadow. It still amazed her that she had grown quite attached to Tracey in such a short amount of time.
And, admittedly, she also missed Severus Snape. She told herself that it was because he was the only person she could have a real adult conversation with, and she could be herself around him. Not to mention his lessons also kept her enthralled.
But, when alone with her thoughts, she realized that she also missed his snarky attitude and the way he could rile her up with a simple remark.
Goddamn…I must be lonely if I miss that, she thought to herself. She did concede that, when alone, Snape was different with her. Still infuriating, but less so. Somewhere along the way, they had developed a grudging friendship, hard as it was to believe. She knew she could trust him – and trust did not come naturally to her.
Lauren was the only Slytherin to remain at Hogwarts, and now the Common Room was achingly empty, devoid of the usual bustle of rowdy students.
She was seated in front of the fire, watching the flames with a sense of detachment. Most of the teachers had remained at the castle, and that, annoyingly, included Quirrell. She did not dare risk wandering alone when the threat of him loomed around every corner.
The door to the Common Room swung open silently on its hinges and in strode Snape in his customary billow of black.
"Oh good! Entertainment!" Lauren exclaimed jumping to her feet. She had to resist the urge to run to him and give him a big hug. She didn't think she would live to tell the tale.
Snape arched a sardonic brow.
"I am absolutely bored," she explained.
"Then entertain yourself," he stated without much sympathy.
Okay, maybe I didn't miss him that much…
Lauren huffed. "I read your book cover to cover and made notes. I've finished all my homework, and I even made my bed. And it's only been day one of the Christmas holidays. There's nothing left for me to do. It's not like I can even go to the library or go outside, not with Quirrell wandering around. And I have no more Potion's lessons to look forward to," she bemoaned. She deliberately left out the fact that she had been contemplating going into Draco's dorm room and pranking some of his things. She didn't think Snape's leniency towards her would stretch that far.
Snape regarded her for a moment. "Then it should come as good news that the Headmaster has requested your presence."
Lauren was instantly alert. She had been waiting for what felt like forever to speak to him. But before she could get her hopes up, she realized with sudden clarity what this visit was really all about.
"He's taking me to the Ministry," she stated, deflating.
"It would seem so," Snape replied. "Dress warmly. It's cold outside."
Lauren went to her room and retrieved a warm winter jacket and shrugged it on, zipping it all the way up to her chin. She hastily grabbed a scarf, gloves and woolen hat, all emblazoned with emerald green and silver, before meeting Snape back in the Common Room.
She followed him as he escorted her to the Headmaster's study.
"What can I expect?" she asked, more to break the silence than anything else. Snape was too preoccupied with his thoughts to talk much.
"The usual and mundane nonsense the Ministry officials like to spout," he remarked dryly and rather unhelpfully.
"Not a big fan, I take it."
His derisive snort was answer enough.
They reached the stone gargoyle and Snape muttered the password, causing it to leap aside. With a sharp nudge of his head, Severus indicated for her to go on up.
Lauren obeyed, feeling his piercing gaze trained on her with each step until she was out of sight.
She knocked on the door and entered when she heard Dumbledore's gravelly voice on the other side telling her to come in.
The Headmaster was standing in the middle of the room, decked out in royal maroon robes and his long white beard tied partway down with a matching ribbon. He gave her a benign smile as Lauren stepped further into the study.
"Good morning, Miss Ward," he greeted cheerfully.
"Mornin'," she supplied.
"Are you ready to go to the Ministry?"
"I suppose now is good a time as any," she remarked offhandedly, wondering with trepidation how he planned to transport her there. Lauren didn't fancy another Side-Along Apparition episode – her stomach instantly churning at the very idea.
"Yes, no time like the present," Dumbledore agreed, his tone still merry. He strode towards the fireplace and carefully lifted a clay jar from the mantle, grabbing a fistful of Floo Powder before returning the pot to its spot.
"Ah, before I forget," he said, turning his attention to her once more, "you forgot to give me the names of your parents during our last visit."
Lauren came to stand beside him, eyeing the flickering flames within the fireplace with unease, not quite trusting that she wasn't going to get roasted alive.
"No, I didn't forget," she replied, finally glancing up at him. She made sure that her true emotions regarding her parents reflected in her eyes.
"Hmm, I thought so," Dumbledore mused but, to his credit, he did not push her for a reason for her omission. "Shall we?" he asked, extending his elbow for her to take.
She glanced back at the flames. "If I get burnt to a crisp, I'm so kicking your ass," she muttered, finally taking his elbow.
"I see you figured out the counter spell," he remarked, though it lacked any derision. In fact, he sounded unsurprised. Lauren chose not to reply.
He flung the powder into the fireplace, causing the roaring flames to morph into a brilliant emerald green hue. Dumbledore stepped with agile grace into the now harmless flames, dragging a reluctant Lauren with him.
"Ministry of Magic," he stated in a clear voice.
Lauren felt as though she were being sucked down a giant plug hole. She held her breath and closed her eyes tightly as she starting spinning uncontrollably, willing her breakfast to stay put.
Finally the spinning ceased, and Dumbledore stepped out at their destination, gently helping Lauren from the fireplace they had arrived in.
"For people that possess magic, you guys really need to work on a better mode of transportation," Lauren muttered peevishly as she dusted the soot from her jacket. "That was about as bad as Side-Along Apparition. And did I mention how uncomfortable brooms are? They are, quite literally, a pain in the ass."
Dumbledore chuckled, but Lauren failed to see the humor in the situation. She was speaking the bloody truth. The magical world did possess rather uncomfortable and stomach-churning methods of getting from one place to another.
"This way," Dumbledore said, amusement still discernable in his tone.
As the proceeded forth, Lauren openly gaped at the grandeur of the Ministry of Magic which, right now, was a bustling hive of activity. They were currently in the Atrium and in the distance, she could make out the large circular water fountain, water spouting from the golden statues of the wizard, witch, centaur, goblin and house-elf.
All around them workers for the Ministry stepped out of the flaring green flames of the fireplaces that lined both sides of the corridor, joining the throng of witches and wizards as they made their way to their departments.
Lauren felt as though she were in a busy underground subway. The din that surrounded her from all sides, as well as the sea of bodies that jostled beside her as everyone hurried to get to work sure made it feel that way. But no subway station could ever be as grand, or as magical, as this.
They arrived at a pair of gilded gates, where a security guard by the name of Eric stood, looking thoroughly bored as he demanded their wands for registration.
Once they had passed security, they came to a series of rickety looking lifts. Dumbledore stepped calmly into one and patiently waited for Lauren to follow suit. As soon as she stepped in, he reached over and pressed a button on the panel and the lift lowered with an ominous creak, doing nothing to abate Lauren's misgivings. She was starting to wonder how safe these contraptions really were.
Tinny music sounded over the speaker and soon an off-tune hum joined in. Lauren slowly turned her head to see that, unsurprisingly, it was issuing from Dumbledore, who was humming along to the dreadful music. He seemed unconcerned by the incredulous look she was shooting him.
Why couldn't I have come here with Severus. He would never dream of torturing me with tuneless humming.
Lauren cracked a smile at the thought of the surly and acerbic Professor doing such a thing. No, she couldn't imagine him humming. He would probably blast the speaker right there and then.
Finally the lift shuddered to a halt. The gates creaked open and a female voice sounded over the speaker, announcing that they had reached the Department of Records.
Dumbledore stepped out and Lauren followed, getting increasingly annoyed that he was still humming that dreadful tune.
He halted outside a large arched door with golden lettering stating: Department of Records. Room 2A. Bernie Fernsby.
Raising his hand, Dumbledore knocked firmly on the wooden door. Muttering could be heard from the other side, followed by the distinct sound of something toppling over onto the floor. Lauren thought she had heard a rather colorful curse word being uttered.
Suddenly the door was flung open to reveal a short, balding man with thick square spectacles perched on his overly large nose. He wore bright lime green robes and in his hand was clutched a thick dusty tome. He peered intently at them through his glasses before recognition dawned on his features.
"Albus! Ah yes! Sorry, I forgot you were coming this morning. Come inside. Come inside," he enthused, stepping aside to grant them entrance.
Lauren paused over the threshold; her gaze held spellbound by the cathedral-like room. The dusty interior, which resembled a large library, was lined wall-to-wall, ceiling-to-ceiling with bookshelves, each crammed with books and tomes. It was a book-lover's dream.
"Thank you, Bernie," Dumbledore said, shaking the other man's hand.
"Not at all, Albus." Bernie turned his attention towards Lauren and eyed her curiously. "Is this the student?"
"Yes. This is Miss Lauren Ward."
"Lovely to meet you, Miss Ward," Bernie stated, offering her his hand.
Lauren shook it but offered no remark. She really had no idea what to say in a situation like this.
"I must say, when you asked me to look into her records, Albus, I never would have guessed that she would be the descendant of Bethany Ward." Bernie looked feverishly excited.
"Why? Who was she?" Lauren asked, her curiosity piqued.
At her question, Bernie gave her a look of bewilderment.
"Miss Ward is from the Muggle world, Bernie," Dumbledore explained. "She doesn't know who Bethany Ward is."
"Oh, I see," Bernie replied. He placed his tome on his already cluttered desk and turned back to face her, scratching thoughtfully at his chin.
"Bethany Ward was a truly exceptional and talented Potion Mistress, considered the most accomplished of her time. Her talents lay in creating unique poisons, as well as discovering various antidotes for an array of poisons." Bernie's face became more flushed with enthusiasm as he continued. "Yes, yes, she was a very skilled witch. Pity she was the last of the Ward line. Until you. I do wonder if you have inherited some of her talents?" he mused, peering at her with undisguised scrutiny through his thick glasses.
"Professor Snape informs me that Miss Ward is showing promise," Dumbledore replied cryptically.
Lauren's head snapped in his direction, confusion welling within her at the fact that Snape was even singing her praises.
Dumbledore either didn't notice her bewilderment or chose to ignore it. "The examination, Bernie?" he coaxed.
"Right! Right. Yes," Bernie said, nodding enthusiastically. He stumbled over to a large towering filing cabinet that stood in the corner of the room and, raising his wand, he murmured a summoning charm. A cubby flew open and a rolled-up parchment zoomed out and shot straight into his outstretched hand.
Bernie made his way to his desk and haphazardly swept the mess to one side, unrolling the parchment on the now cleared surface. Lauren edged closer to get a better look, noting that Dumbledore was doing the same.
At the very top of the yellowed parchment was the crest of the House of Ward: a midnight blue shield edged with emerald green. A 'W' was emblazoned in the middle of the shield and twisting along the edges on the shield on either side were two snakes. Lauren peered closer and saw that these were no ordinary snakes. Each one had a horn on its head, along with a jewel embedded on their foreheads.
"What are those?" she asked, pointing at one of the snakes.
"That is a Horned Serpent," Bernie explained. "It is a magical snake found in bodies of water. They are very intelligent and the jewel on their heads are said to possess the power of invisibility and flight."
"My wand's core is from a Horned Serpent," Lauren stated, feeling a twinge of excitement.
Bernie looked as though he was ready to jump up and down, such was his elation. "If that isn't a clear indication that you are Bethany Ward's descendant, then I don't know what is!"
"A simple test should prove it," Dumbledore said calmly, ever the voice of reason. His tone seemed to guide the overly excited wizard back to the task at hand.
"Yes, yes!" Bernie exclaimed, pushing his glasses higher up his nose. "Your hand please, Miss Ward," he instructed, holding out his hand, palm facing up.
Lauren shot Dumbledore a questioning look and he gave her an encouraging nod in turn. She sighed and placed her hand in Bernie's own. He turned her hand over and then pressed the tip of his wand to her index finger.
Lauren let out a startled yelp when she felt a sharp prick.
"Sorry," Bernie muttered. "We need your blood for this."
"A warning would have been nice," Lauren muttered, shooting him a withering look.
Bernie ignored the jibe and squeezed her fingertip, causing a bright red droplet of blood to bead the pad of her fingertip. He then guided her hand to the parchment and pressed her bloodied finger against the sheet of paper. Once he released her hand, Lauren snatched it back and cradled it to her chest, resisting the urge to suck on it.
The bloody spot slowly seeped into the parchment and everyone in the room held their breath collectively. Suddenly there was a flash of bright golden light, momentarily blinding them. Lauren blinked rapidly and watched with astonishment as elegant looped writing appeared on the parchment, listing the long line of the Ward family tree. At the very bottom was Bethany Anne Ward's name and then a few lines beneath that, appeared Lauren's own name.
"Well that proves it!" Bernie cried happily, practically bouncing on the balls of his feet.
Lauren had no idea what to feel. Here was actual proof that she was a living descendant of, in Bernie's words, one of the greatest Potion Mistresses of all time. And all she could do was stare in stunned silence at the piece of paper.
How is this even possible? Does this change anything? Lauren had no idea.
"Splendid," Dumbledore stated, clapping his hands together. Lauren had the distinct impression that he was humoring the other wizard.
Bernie managed to compose himself, though two spots of red still flushed his cheeks, and tapped his wand against the sheet of parchment. A duplicate appeared next to it, and he handed it to Lauren, who took it numbly.
"When you go to Gringotts, produce this parchment to one of the goblins and they will give you the key to your vault. I also have the deed to the Ward manor…" Bernie trailed off, glancing over his shoulder at Dumbledore with a small frown furrowing his brows. "I understand that you want to personally go through the house and check for any…curses and such."
"That is correct," Dumbledore agreed amiably.
Shifting, Bernie now faced the Headmaster. "Miss Ward here is underage and as such, she is going to need a guardian if she is to reside at the manor. She cannot live there by herself."
"I will discuss the options available to Miss Ward. I'm sure we will find an appropriate…guardian for her." Dumbledore looked faintly amused at the thought.
"If not, the Ministry will assign one."
Lauren shuddered visibly as an image of Umbridge becoming her guardian sprang unbidden to her mind – a thought that made her queasy.
"Understood. When Miss Ward and I have come to an agreement, I will inform you of the decision."
Bernie nodded, satisfied. "Alright then. I'll give you this for safekeeping," he said, handing Dumbledore the deed to the manor, which he had conjured with a flick of his wand.
Glancing briefly at it, Dumbledore tucked the parchment into an inner pocket of his robes. Bernie shook both their hands and after an enthused farewell, Dumbledore ushered Lauren out of the room.
They made their way back to the Atrium, Lauren too shell-shocked to say anything. Dumbledore was uncharacteristically leaving her to her thoughts.
Once they reached the passageway of fireplaces, Dumbledore halted her from stepping inside by placing his hand on her shoulder.
"Did you wish to visit to Gringotts? Perhaps do some shopping afterwards," he asked kindly, almost as though he knew that Lauren was feeling overwhelmed at having to process all that had transpired.
Lauren despised shopping and was about to refuse, but the thought of Tracey and the fact that she hadn't gotten her little friend a Christmas present filled her with guilt.
"Fine," she sighed in defeat. "But don't think I'm tagging along while you shop for brightly mismatched socks. I draw the line at that."
Dumbledore chuckled as he guided her into the fireplace. "Of course not. I was hoping to find some more tea cozies, though."
Lauren groaned.
~oOo~
A few hours later they Floo'd back to the Headmaster's study, Lauren hefting her loaded bag of purchases through the fireplace.
Her mind was still reeling at the fact that she had inherited quite a fortune, if the gold in her vault was any indication. She had no idea if it really was a fortune or not as she was still struggling to figure out the wizarding currency. But gold was gold, and there had been a lot.
"I'll let Severus know you are here, and he can escort you back to your room," Dumbledore stated, flicking his wand and conjuring his Patronus, which was, unsurprisingly, a phoenix.
Lauren dropped her shopping to the floor and slumped into one of the chairs by the Headmaster's desk. Dumbledore swept past her and was now affectionately petting Fawkes.
Lauren knew now was the perfect opportunity to speak to him.
"I was rather hoping to speak to you about something."
"Ah, yes. Professor Snape has informed me about Professor Quirrell –."
"Actually, that's not what is troubling me, though your lack of concern regarding Quirrell is rather disturbing, I will admit." Dumbledore raised his brow, but Lauren continued. "No, I wanted to speak to you about something more serious." She could not hide the bitterness seeping into her voice. Nor the accusatory tone.
Dumbledore regarded her shrewdly, a hard edge entering his usually twinkling eyes. She stared back at him with a measured look of her own, refusing to back down. She, quite frankly, was done with all the games.
"You wish to reveal everything to me."
Lauren gave a nod. "Yes."
"That would be unwise. I do hope you realize why that would be so?"
"Yes."
He stared at her; his features hard to read. "Then why risk it?"
"We both know War is coming – it's inevitable. This you know. And although I know the reasons behind why you will do some of the things you will do, I think you forget about the one person who will suffer more than any man should."
"You are referring to Professor Snape."
Lauren gave a nod.
Dumbledore sighed wearily. "Have you perhaps considered, Miss Ward, that both Severus and I know what is at stake, as well as the trials and tribulations that will have to be endured in order to win this war?"
Lauren blinked. She had held the suspicion that Severus had longed for the embrace of death for quite some time now, ever since Lily's death. The only thing that kept him tethered to this world was the vow he had made to protect her son. Once that promise was fulfilled, however, there would be no more reason for him to continue on.
"And you're okay with that?" She could not halt the sting of tears that filled her eyes. "Everything you're going to ask of him…you're okay with that?"
Dumbledore strode towards her with surprising agility for such an old man. He stooped and placed a gentle hand upon her shoulder, the gesture conveying his regret.
"No, Miss Ward," he answered. "But both Severus and I know that sacrifices need to be made, and we are both willing to do as such."
"For the Greater Good?" she asked sarcastically.
"Yes," he said sadly, and he actually sounded genuine.
Lauren stood abruptly, anger flaring within her. Dumbledore straightened and dropped his hand to his side.
"It's just…it's just so unfair."
"I know, Miss Ward. Severus has endured more than most, and he shall have to persevere through even worse when Voldemort returns. I suspect that he harbors neither hope, nor the will, to come out of this war alive."
"Maybe if I can show you everything, we can change what happens to him…"
Dumbledore shook his head sadly.
Lauren blinked back the tears. "Surely there is something else – anything else – that we can do!"
Dumbledore had the grace to look forlorn. "It is not up to me."
"Then who?!"
As though by answer there came a knock on the door.
"Come in, Severus," Dumbledore called out.
The door opened and in stepped the topic of their heated discussion. Snape paused in the doorway, his scrutinizing gaze taking in the scene before him. Lauren hastily averted her tear-filled gaze and looked over at the Headmaster, who had a brow arched at her, almost as though he were saying: The decision is his.
Lauren strode over to her shopping and snatched it up before storming over to Snape. He regarded her with an almost curious look but said nothing as he stepped aside to let her pass. She didn't even bother to say goodbye to the Headmaster.
Lauren made her way down the winding staircase and soon his dark form stepped beside her as they strode down the deserted corridor.
"As much as I enjoy your silence, a rarity in itself, I have to surmise that something is troubling you."
Lauren glared ahead. "Let's just say my conversation with Dumbledore…didn't go according to plan." she finally growled.
A shadow of a smirk was her answer. "It usually never does."
Lauren sighed, frustration welling inside of her. It was now obvious that she would get no help from Dumbledore. He had all but made it clear that she was to remain silent with her knowledge. Part of her had expected it. But his refusal to budge, even to help Snape, is what troubled her the most.
Silence stretched before her and Snape. Even though his sights were trained ahead, Lauren knew that he was studying her from the corner of his eye.
They reached the doors to the Slytherin Common room and Snape turned to face her. "Meet me in the Common Room at eight o'clock tonight. I think now is the perfect opportunity to resume your Potion's lessons."
Lauren felt her spirits lift somewhat, and briefly wondered if that had been Snape's intention.
"What about Quirrell?"
The corners of his mouth slowly curved up. "Leave that to me."
Lauren grinned at him. Suddenly eager for him to remain a few more moments longer, she asked, "Did you know that Bethany Ward was quite the accomplished Potions Mistress?"
"Yes."
"And now it would seem that I am her descendant."
Snape snorted. "You have a long way to go before you even reach a fraction of her skill levels." He sounded distinctly unimpressed by her news.
"Yet you told Dumbledore that I have potential," she pointed out.
Snape rolled his eyes. "Potential does not equate to the high esteem that Miss Bethany Ward was held in."
"Good thing you'll be teaching me for the next seven years then."
Snape grimaced, though Lauren was getting better at reading him. There was no genuineness to his action.
"Don't remind me," he said dryly. "Eight o'clock tonight. Don't be late." And with that he departed in a billow of black, Lauren watching him and wandering if she would ever decode the mystery of Snape.
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