I'm going to be expelled.
I'm going to be expelled.
Dumbledore will come, he'll ban me from the castle. Will he snap my wand, too?
How could I be so stupid? Why didn't I just go back to Bernadette's? I've done this to myself.
I've destroyed everything.
Danu's mind rushes, her heart pounds in her chest. She attempts to focus and string an actual sentence, but the words don't come to her.
"I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I am so, so sorry." This is all she is able to produce as Snape drags her from the Shrieking Shack to his office. His grip is tight on her wrist, her fingers begin to numb. His eyes darken with rage. His jaw remains clenched, as if he's desperately trying to suppress screaming in face.
Snape bursts through his office door, robes flying around both of their ankles. Turning her sharply, he flings her on a chair across from his desk. The chair legs skid sharply across the stone floor with her weight, verging on toppling over. Her arms flail in an attempt to keep her upright, she grips the edge of Snape's desk and catches him looking down at her in disgust. He snaps his fingers, causing her to jump slightly at the sudden sound in the otherwise silent room. A house-elf appears, she thinks the little creature may be a girl, but can't be certain. They're wearing a dingy dish towel with a hole cut in the center for the head as a frock, a length of rope wraps around their waist to keep it closed. Atop their tiny, wrinkled head sits a crooked purple bow. The elf bows deeply to the both of them, Danu attempts a polite smile, but the elf is focused on Snape. They take the roll of parchment Snape has drafted and disappears with a soft pop.
Danu lowers her head and focuses on her hands nervously knotting in her lap. She lifts her eyes towards Snape, he stands tall and straight behind his desk, arms behind his back, scowling down at her. She quickly averts her eyes back down to her lap, her face heating from fear and embarrassment.
Darkness falls, Snape has been pacing back and forth for hours. No candles are lit; the room is dark and shadowy. The only light comes from the moon reflecting off of the surface of the Black Lake from the small porthole window high on the wall. Either he's too busy fantasizing about murdering her before Dumbledore comes to have noticed, or this is the way he prefers it when no one else is here. Still used to the conditions in the Shrieking Shack, her eyes adjust to the darkness rather quickly. She doesn't dare speak to him. Every sound she makes; the squeak of the chair beneath her when she shifts her weight on it, clearing her throat, even breathing too loudly is met with his terrifying glare. Danu crosses her arms on Snape's desk and lays her head on them. Although he scoffs in disapproval, he does not tell her to move.
Hours pass as the night drags on painfully slow. Danu drifts in and out of restless sleep. On several occasions, Snape is facing her when she opens her eyes, she can only tell this by the soft glow of a cigarette dancing through the air as he slowly brings it to his lips. Scents of clove and ash waft throughout the room when he takes up the pacing again. The wafting smoke causes her nose to tickle, but she does not dare move an inch. Despite it being well into July, the stone room is cool. She shivers and attempts to bring her neck closer to her shoulders. Something warm is placed across her back, she can feel the weight of it, the warmth causing her to involuntarily curl into it. It smells of cinnamon and cloves.
A soft hum fills her ears, and she can sense the light filling the room despite the fact that her eyes are closed. She finds herself trapped between sleep; awake enough to notice her surroundings, but too tired to even open her eyes. Suddenly, the humming stops, the light behind her eyelids is blocked. A hand is on her shoulder, comforting and warm. She leans into it for just a moment, then opens her eyes.
Dumbledore.
Heart racing, Danu jumps to her feet, something heavy falls from her shoulders to the ground and wraps around her ankles. She tries to speak but no words come out. The time has finally come. The moment she has been dreading for hours. He's come to tell her to leave. She tries desperately to find any words at all. None come. Dumbledore raises his hands to stop her. Her heart stops.
"Follow Professor Snape to Hogsmeade, my dear. Your belongings will be there when you arrive." Dumbledore turns and leaves the room before she can say a word. Snape follows suit, his long stride making it difficult for her to keep up. Halfway out of the castle, she begins to breathe heavily at the jog it takes to keep up with him.
Professor Snape bursts through The Three Broomsticks as if he owned the place. Stepping from behind the bar and slinging a white rag on to her shoulder is the most beautiful woman Danu has ever seen. She places her hands on Snape's arms and pulls him behind the counter, their backs facing Danu. She stands awkwardly in the middle of the empty bar as the two speak in hushed, hurried tones. The two finish their secret conversation and make their way towards the stairs to the left of the bar, Danu is unsure whether she should follow them or not. Snape turns to her and jerks his head sharply towards the stairs. He pushes her behind the barkeep and takes his place behind her as thy climb the stairs, as if he is afraid she will escape.
Once at the top of the stairs, the woman unlocks the first door on the left. As they enter the room, the scent of lilacs fills her nose. The woman smiles warmly at her and takes her by the hand, pulling her in to the room.
"I am Madam Rosmerta, my dear. I don't believe I have seen you here before."
"No ma'am, I have not have the pleasure."
"Well, you make yourself at home, love. Dumbledore has made sure you are taken care of until the start of term. You belongings arrived not five minutes ago. I took the liberty of having one of the house-elves bring them up for you."
"Thank you, I really appreciate everything."
Madam Rosmerta smiles warmly at her as she slips a worn key into her hand and turns to leave the room. She places the other into Snape's waiting hand and pats him gently on the shoulder as she leaves. Danu turns and surveys her new temporary home. Directly across from the door is a large double bed made with a multicolored quilt. Her belongings lay across the foot of the bed. The window behind the bed is open, allowing the morning light and breeze to flutter through. One nightstand next to the bed holds an empty Firewhisky bottle full of fresh lilac sprigs. On the opposite side of the bed, the matching nightstand houses a large candelabra dripping with hardened wax. To the right of the bed, a door stands slightly open, presumably a small washroom.
"I will be checking every evening that you are in this room. Do not wander off."
"Yes, Sir."
"In two weeks, you will catch the Knight Bus and collect your supplies from Diagon Alley. I will ensure you are in this room by nightfall. Is that understood?" Snape asks, sharply.
"Yes Sir."
Snape spins on his heel and makes to leave, without thinking Danu grabs his sleeve to stop him. She has never touched him on purpose before. His sleeve is silky and smooth, the skin beneath cool and clammy, despite the morning heat. Snape turns and looks down at her, his already dark eyes gleaming black with anger.
"I'm sorry I disappointed you, Professor." Danu looks up at him, the anger momentarily fading from his face, his jaw relaxes, the faint lines around his eyes smoothing for an instant.
"You are only sorry that you got caught." He sneers at her, jerking his sleeve from her grasp. He slams the door behind her and stomps down the stairs. Danu rushes to the window to catch a glimpse of him leaving, but never does. He must have apparated elsewhere or used the Floo network to return to the castle.
Even on weeknights, the pub below stayed packed night after night. The first night was unbearable, drunk witches and wizards constantly climbing the stairs, shouting just outside her door, even attempting to open it on several occasions. Silencing charms were of no use, the noise and vibrations permeated beneath even her strongest defenses. Lucky for her, Snape brought her a book her first night, The Count of Monte Cristo. She stayed up all night reading it, both too enthralled in the story to sleep, and far too restless from the noise below to accomplish even a small nap. Danu finished the book in three nights, sleeping during the day and waking when Snape came to check on her in the evenings after dinner.
Snape brought her another three books that week, never staying longer than to ensure she was in the room and dump a book on the bed, picking the older one up in the same motion. He hadn't said a word to her in the week she had been there.
"Sir, did you grow up as a Muggle?" She finally asked one evening, Snape froze, one hand on the doorknob. She could feel the anger radiating from his core from across the room. For a moment, she regrets asking the question. Snape whirls around to face her, anger plastered across his face. She has grown used to seeing it, the only time he ever seems truly at peace is when he is brewing a potion.
"That is hardly any of your business, Miss Black." He spits the words at her.
"I meant no offense, Sir. It's only, you have a lot of Muggle books."
"I was not aware that you were the head of wizarding literary publication, Miss Black. How truly inspiring it is to be in your presence." Snape sneers, the corners of his mouth turning up into a tight grimace at his own sarcasm.
"I meant no offense, Sir. I quite enjoy it, actually."
Snape grunts and moves away from the door, surprising her with his decision to stay.
"How is your non-verbal magic coming, Miss Black? Or have you spent the entire summer simply lazing about?" Snape makes his way around the room and stops near the bed, staring down at her. Danu pulls herself up into a sitting position and crosses her legs. She reaches for her wand beneath the pillow and closes her eyes, concentrating with all her might on the bottle of lilacs on the bedside table.
Danu listens as the drying leaves of the petals begin to flutter and scrunches her face tighter in her attempt to keep the concentration. Finally, Snape lets out a strangled, high pitched laugh.
"Pathetic." He states, bluntly.
Danu opens her eyes, she had been attempting to turn the lilacs into butterflies, imagined them fluttering throughout the room and landing softly on her arms before drifting out of the window. Instead, all she had managed to do was explode the dead heads from the lilac sprigs, deep purple balls littering the table around the bottle.
"Not very good, obviously." She huffs and flings herself back on the bed. She rubs her eyes with the backs of her hands and stares up at the ceiling.
The door closes softly as she feels a tickle on her wrist. Sitting up, she sees the room filled with purple butterflies. The scent of cloves and cinnamon mix with soft lilac as the butterflies flutter around the room and out of the open window.