Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter NOR any of his friends NEITHER any of his enemies. It's hard to admit, but when I'm done with them all, I have to return them to Joanne K. Rowling in an original wrapping and unharmed. I make no money, I mean no harm.
Patchwork
Midnight
The light knock on the door caught Snape by surprise, although he probably should have foreseen it. Few things stopped Neville from dropping by when it was the least convenient, and Snape certainly wasn't in the mood for pleasantries. And he had hoped, when Neville failed to show up within ten minutes after Snape's abrupt departure from the Great Hall...
Neville knocked again, more loudly this time, and Snape growled. He sat down in his armchair.
"Come in!" he barked, reaching for a book, as if he had been reading all the time. Which he hadn't. He had been tidying up, using the physical activity as a distraction from thinking.
Neville didn't sit down when he entered, neither he reached for a glass. He leaned against a wall next to the fireplace and started watching Snape intently - so intently that Snape found it impossible to concentrate on the book.
"You've read that book already," Neville called his bluff finally. Snape looked up, sneering. Neville crossed his arms. "I don't know what she said to you, but I'm more than sure she didn't mean to offend you," Neville continued. Never the one to beat around the bush, this little Longbottom boy.
"Don't be ridiculous," Snape snarled venomously. "I am not offended. Least by that Squib." He hid his face in the book and realised that not only he had indeed read the book a week ago, he had found it rubbish then and only kept it as an experimental ingredience. He closed the book and threw it on the table.
"So you've been cleaning the room just for fun," Neville retorted calmly. "And don't try to tell me you haven't been tidying, I can tell the difference. The house elves never touch your books and jars." Snape just snorted at that.
Neville moved away from his observatory spot, got a glass and filled it with whiskey.
"Students aren't allowed alcohol, Mr. Longbottom," Snape said casually. "As you surely know." He added a stern, intimidating look, but Neville seemed to be only amused.
"It's for you. And Tisha is a nice woman." Snape accepted the glass and frowned.
"If you say so." The lack of fight piqued Neville's curiosity.
"And that's all? No complaints? Just if you say so?"
"I have discovered that you tend to concoct the most disturbing theories whenever I share my thoughts with you," Snape snapped. The edge in his voice was real and Neville lost the last of his good humour. Something had happened. He bit his lower lip and automatically reached for a glass. He only realised it was empty when he lifted it from the table and gave it a disgusted glare. However, being closely watched by Snape, he pointedly filled it with water.
"I wonder if you could do me a favour," Neville said to change the subject.
"I could do a lot of things," Snape growled.
"Tutor me in Potions this year," Neville clarified. "I want to try the OWLs again."
"Do I look suicidal to you?" When no reply came, Snape turned to look at Neville. "Why should I be willing to put my life at risk like that?"
"Because you're a teacher and I'm a student who has failed his OWLs and wants another go! Actually, I only have to clear this with my Head of House, who is not you, but I wanted to be nice." Neville sighed.
"So you are practically saying I have no choice but to persuade Minerva you have enough schoolwork without Potions." Snape gritted his teeth and Neville mentally kicked himself.
"No. Forget it. Forget I asked." That made Snape raise his eyebrows, but Neville refused to answer a question Snape refused to ask. "So what did Tisha say?" Neville asked instead. It could irk Snape further, but sometimes - just sometimes - it could also make him speak.
"Nothing!" Snape spat, got up and disappeared in his bedroom. Neville shook his head. He'd better ask Tisha tomorrow about this nothing. On top of everything - he'd have to pass the exam, damn it! - maybe Hermione would be willing to help him?
"Longbottom!" ... and he'd get earlashing for something, it seemed. On top of everything.
Snape was standing in the doorframe, watching Neville gloomily. "Come with Granger and Malfoy."
Minerva was trying to comprehend another of those terrible owls from the Minister - or at least to guess what it was about and whether she could simply throw it away - when a plate with roast mutton landed on top of her paperwork. She looked up.
"Alastor," she started tiredly, but he wouldn't let her finish.
"You didn't eat properly at dinner. And Merlin knows you need your strenght. This," Moody gestured at the parchments, "can wait half an hour." He was right, of course - at least when it came to her not eating properly. She hadn't been eating properly in weeks, and it didn't help her. But how could she know whether the owls could wait, if she hadn't had a look at them?
Moody pushed the plate closer to her, took her right hand and put a fork in her palm.
"Eat," he said firmly. Minerva hadn't felt hungry before, when the smell reached her nostrils, however, her mouth started watering. And roast mutton was her favourite meal...
She should feel ridiculous, being mothered by her subordinate, but the taste of meat triggered her hunger and her body, for the sake of self-preservation, ruled out any emotions or dignity.
She was surprised to see the plate cleared after what seemed to be seconds. She felt sated and sleepy and very, very tired. Moody put the plate out of her sight, dabbed at her mouth with a napkin.
"And now," he said with an expression that should be shocking or alarming, "to bed."
Minerva's eyelids felt too heavy to be kept open and she herself was too drowsy to argue. She let Moody lead her to the door to her personal rooms. He held her wrists for a moment and again, it felt somewhat disturbing and out of place, but she couldn't care less.
"Good night, Minerva," Moody whispered gently and Minerva went inside and to bed and fell asleep, never noticing anything out of order.
The corridors of Hogwarts were a maze in the morning, a labyrinth in the afternoon, and a dungeon above ground during nights. Or at least they seemed to be such to a first year lost somewhere in the castle, especially after the curfew. And every step could be a step in the wrong direction, bringing the unfortunate student further from their common room and deeper in the trouble. Mostly, the worst trouble on their way would be Argus Filch, the rude and rough caretaker, sometimes older students could use the situation to make fun of a scared child, and sometimes - even if rarely - the castle itself could hide a real danger.
Elizabeth Jorkins didn't know about the dangers lurking in the dark corridors. She was a quiet, shy girl, used to spend her free time by herself, reading or playing with a doll. She was living with her father, a horse breeder who was a genius among animals, but simple among people, in a small village in Wiltshire. She took longer to make friends, and therefore hadn't yet heard any of the stories about Mr. Filch, Mrs. Norris, the Chamber of Secrets, Death Eaters or any vague horrors of Hogwarts told by the older students. When she saw a pair of yellowish eyes lurking in the dark, she didn't expect any trouble at all, and even felt relieved.
"Kitty, here, kitty!" Elizabeth called and reached out to pet the animal. But the cat drew back and hissed at her.
"Don't be afraid, I won't hurt you," Elizabeth soothed. She was very good with animals - a talent she had inherited from her father - and usually managed to befriend anything in less than five minutes. She turned her palm towards the animal to show it she wasn't holding anything, and when the cat relaxed, she again reached to it, more slowly this time. But the cat only hissed and bared its teeth, threatening to attack.
"What are you doing here?" someone said very sternly and Elizabeth whirled. There was a tall girl standing behind her. Elizabeth thought she had seen her in the Gryffindor common room, but she wasn't sure and she didn't remember her name anyway.
"I'll take care of that," the girl told the cat and patted her Prefect badge to make sure it was noticed. The cat hissed again, turned away from them and disappeared in the shadows.
"I was reading, got carried away and then lost my way around here," Elizabeth admitted. "Is she one of the professors?" she asked curiously, remembering that McGonagall was supposed to be an Animan... Amima... able to turn into a cat.
"Mrs. Norris?" the prefect sputtered and laughed shortly. "No, she's just a pain in the a... a nuisance. You're a Ravenclaw, right?" she asked Elizabeth and started contemplating the easiest way to the Ravenclaw tower.
"Erm - no," Elizabeth piped, feeling embarassed. "A Gryffindor." The prefect raised one pretty eyebrow and looked at Elizabeth with more attention. She couldn't remember having ever seen this particular first year, and she was famous for her ability to memorise all new Gryffindors before September the first died.
"Well, just come with me, then, er... what was your name again?"
"Elizabeth." And it was for the first time, Elizabeth thought. She felt suddenly extremely lonely and depressed and she didn't once look up when she was following the Gryffindor prefect through one of the corridors, down two flights of stairs, then - miraculously - three flights of stairs back up, althought Elizabeth had been sure they had started at the seventh - the toppest - floor. Soon they reached the portrait of the Fat Lady, Elizabeth mumbled the password, then a quiet "thank-you" and retreated to the relative safety of her four poster bed in the girls' dormitory.
She had felt more comfortable in the company of the unknown hostile cat.
The Hogsmeade had grown quiet past midnight, the citizens were mostly at their respective homes getting ready to bed or already sleeping, with few exceptions such as Maximus Thongs, a Healer who worked night shifts at Saint Mungo's, Phillipa Thongs, his wife, and Tom Doobigger, his neighbour, currently pouring more wine into Phillipa's glass and planning on a long night in Mr. and Mrs. Thongs' large bed. But the streets were deserted and mainly dark. Blaise sighed and let the curtain he had been holding back fall in its place.
September the third. At Hogwarts, two days of classes had already passed. For the first time since he had been eleven, Blaise hadn't been there. He hadn't expected it to feel so... strange. He had had two months to grow accustomed to this feeling, but somehow looking for a job and even working had seemed different during summer. To not be at school on September the second made him feel inappropriate. He missed the soft humming of fellow Slytherins in the common room. The house was completely silent.
And althought he had seen Ginny no more than three days ago, he missed her sorely.
He put out the last of the candles and headed for his bedroom. A soft sound from the ground floor startled him. A thief? He had been in charge of the shop for two days and already trouble? The wand slid in his hand before he thought of it and he pressed his back against the nearest wall, peering into the darkness. It might have been a thief - or it might have been one of the Death Eaters that had never been found.
Before he could decide on any action, however, someone whispered a quiet "Lumos!" and a cold light revealed a figure standing under the stairs. A girl with red hair.
Ginny.
"What are you doing here?" Blaise blurted out before he could stop himself.
"I wanted to see you," Ginny replied calmly and started climbing the stairs. Blaise was extremely curious about how she had got out of the castle in the middle of night and in the house - carefully locked for the night - but he didn't dare ask. He didn't dare point out she was breaking the school rules and risked expulsion, either. He didn't dare speak at all. Because a word Ginny didn't like could make her get out of this house and back in the castle without looking back for weeks, and Blaise didn't want her to go. He was still contemplating his situation when Ginny reached the top of the stairs, pecked him and took his hand. And everything felt right.
He had missed her sorely.
A/N: I kind of like to think Hogwarts castle is very complicated and doesn't always provide a way how to travel between two places on the same floor without having to go up and down stairs. I also like to think there are stairs at Hogwarts that "skip" a floor - what fun would it be if you could take any stairs to get a level higher? It may be lame, but I think it cute (and it also explains all JKR's flooring bloopers, and also all of mine bloopers :)).