Chapter 5:
The girls of Brownwell spoke excitedly to each other, comparing schedules and chatting about the different curricula. Senna stood in the corner, staring at her schedule. She had Defense Against the Dark Arts, Charms, a free period after lunch, and then Potions. They were taught by Alastor Moody, Filius Flitwick, and Severus Snape, respectively.
Her eyes were glued to the page where it read Severus Snape. Reading it had caused her heart to lurch into overdrive. What were the chances? Her full name was Senna Severus Snape. Did she have a relative here in Great Britain? She reread the name and reread it again. No, she told herself, it must be a coincidence. Senna lived in an entirely different country. Severus and Snape were common names in Europe.
When Senna left the hot air balloon basket that morning, a strange spark of hope was in her chest. Maybe she could find a clue to her past.
Even though she told herself she wouldn't get excited about the whole similar-name thing, she couldn't help herself. During breakfast, Senna leaned over to Hannah.
"What kind of teacher is Professor Snape?" Senna asked.
'Godawful. Cynical. Malicious. The worst teacher by far.'
"Ummm…" Hannah thought, "He's not very nice. He's quite awful. Most people hate potions because of him."
"Really? Is he that bad?" Senna's heart constricted.
Senna caught glimpses of a pale, sallow-faced man through her mind. In these images, he insulted Hufflepuffs, calling them inept for their poor performance. He was docking house points from Gryffindor in another memory for no apparent reason.
She nodded feverishly, "Yes, he's just atrocious. Unless you're in Slytherin, he's the head of their house and plays favorites."
Senna was not quite as excited to meet this person, but she swore to reserve judgment until she met him.
After breakfast, Hannah pointed Senna toward the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom. Hannah did not have sixth year level Defense Against the Dark Arts as she did not get the required grade for it during her OWLs. As she walked, a group of Brownwell students spotted her and gave her a wide margin of space to pass through. She caught their terrified expressions. Senna sighed. Overreaction, as usual. Some things would never change.
"I can teach you every counter-curse in the book, every shield spell to date, but the only thing that will save you in the face of a dark wizard is constant vigilance!" Professor Moody started his class, limping around on his wooden leg. He was a battered man, missing an eye, chunks of his face, a leg, and was covered in many scars. Students watched him warily, flinching when he got too close.
"Nonverbal jinxes and hexes give you the advantage of covertness. The second your opponent knows what your next move is, you're dead. That small amount of time gained can mean the difference between life and death." He spat. "Now! We're going to practice again. Split up into pairs. Hurry up."
This class had started a month ago, and she had yet to learn where in the book they were now. She had read the first couple of chapters but hadn't counted on starting with practicals. Practical was fine with her, though—Senna was great at nonverbal spells, jinxes, hexes, and shields, more so than even skilled adults. Whatever it was, she could figure it out in a heartbeat. The trouble was finding a partner. She looked around, already ruling out all the Brownwell students.
A pair of twin boys with disheveled red hair winked at her simultaneously.
'Hey girl, feel my sweater. Do you know what that's made of? Boyfriend material.'
'I've been banned from the library, but do you mind if I check you out?'
Senna almost laughed out loud. But she wasn't interested. She probably would've liked boys better—if she couldn't see into their minds. She turned away, scanning the room to find a partner before the twin redheads could approach her. A few seats away, a girl with curly auburn hair was hunched over her DADA book, oblivious to her surroundings. Taking a deep breath, she approached her.
"Hello." Senna said.
The girl did not look up. She didn't seem to have heard her at all.
"Do you have a partner yet?" Senna asked her.
Senna observed the unmoving girl for a moment. She was about to turn away when the girl spoke. "No." Without looking up from her book, she said, "But I suppose you'll do."
A flash of irritation bubbled up Senna's stomach, reaching her throat. She wanted to say something to her but held back.
"Great." Senna mumbled. The girl didn't move from her position. Everyone else was already in formation, facing their partner with wands raised.
"Ummm… Should we get started?" Senna suggested.
The girl slammed her book shut in irritation and stood. She sighed.
Well, sorry to bother you with your class requirements, Senna thought. She eyed her opponent. Her green and silver lined robes and emerald tie told her that this girl was in Slytherin. She was a head shorter than Senna, although this was not unusual. Senna was about a head or two taller than most girls her age. She felt an unusual flutter in her chest when her eyes landed on the girl's face. She was beautiful. She had striking green eyes that were cold and fierce, curly waist-length auburn hair, and prominent cheekbones.
'Hope this girl knows what she's doing. Most of these losers are a waste of my time.'
"Viola." She said in a bored voice. "Viola Richmond."
"Senna."
"Senna, what?" She asked impatiently.
"Senna Snape."
Viola's green eyes widened in surprise. "Are you related to Professor Snape?"
Another flutter in Senna's stomach. "Not sure. At least, I don't think so."
"How do you not know? Don't you have parents?"
Viola was starting to get on Senna's nerves. "No, actually, I don't."
Viola blinked, taken aback. As cold as Viola was, she seemed to realize she had crossed a line. A tinge of pink colored her cheekbones. "Oh."
Professor Moody spoke then. "Quit lagging. You know the drill. Hurry up and get started!" His magical eye whirled towards Senna and Viola.
They drew their wands and stood in standard dueling formation. "You jinx and I block?" Senna offered.
"Why not?"
'Impedimenta!' Viola yelled in her head.
'Protego!' Senna thought immediately.
The white-blue light of her jinx collided with Senna's shield charm, lighting it up like a glowing half-orb around Senna's body. Senna flicked her wand upwards slightly, letting the jinx rebound upwards so as not to hit any of the other students.
'Expelliarmus!' Senna thought as soon as the shield retracted.
Viola tried to block it in return but was not as quick as Senna. Her wand flew out of her hand and clattered onto the floor.
'Blimey, she's not bad.' Viola thought grudgingly. Viola ducked around the other dueling students and stepped out of the way of misaimed jinxes to retrieve her wand.
Professor Moody moved in their direction. When he reached them, Viola was already back, wand in hand.
"That was quite the shield charm. Very powerful, especially for a nonverbal incantation." He praised with a hoarse voice. "And you are—?"
"Senna Snape."
"Ahhh. Related to our famous Severus Snape, then?" The way he spoke his name with a sneer made it clear that this was not someone he liked.
"I don't think so." Senna replied.
"Alright then. And Richmond, a very well-casted nonverbal jinx. Looks like you've finally met your match." He grunted in amusement before hobbling away on his wooden leg.
Senna and Viola continued to duel. Viola was very good at nonverbal jinxes and hexes. In fact, she was the best in the class besides Senna. Around them, students cheated by muttering incantations under their breath, and when they managed to cast it wordlessly, it was a feeble version of the spell. As good as Viola was, she could have been better with the shield charm. When it was Senna's turn to jinx, her jinx had broken through Viola's shield two times in a row.
By the end of the lesson, Viola could block Senna's jinx—but had to mouth the incantation silently. Viola's face was red with exertion and frustration. Senna could hear her thoughts and knew she was not used to being outmatched. She was used to being the best at everything. Senna could sympathize with the girl. Senna was used to the very same thing. Being outmatched would be very frustrating indeed.
When they were dismissed, Viola stormed out ahead of Senna.
Hannah was waiting for Senna outside the DADA classroom door. When she spotted Senna, she pushed herself off the wall and walked up to her, smiling. "We have Charms together. I wasn't sure if you knew where the classroom was, so I ran here to walk you."
Senna smiled back. She was starting to feel a lot of affection for this girl; she was much kinder to her than she had deserved.
She enjoyed Charms with the Hufflepuffs, laughing at their jokes when Professor Flitwick had turned his back. A Ravenclaw boy had made fun of Ernie, calling him Ernie-Burnie, for managing to burn his vinegar, making it smoke and catch fire. After putting out the fire, Senna silently hexed the Ravenclaw boy from under her desk, giving him a tail. The entire class laughed hysterically as he was whisked away to the hospital wing to have it removed.
After lunch, Senna and her friends parted ways. She had a free period, but Hannah and her friends had Care of Magical Creatures.
Senna stopped at the library doorway. She wondered if any of the books on the Triwizard Tournament had been returned yet. Where could she find information on the tournament? She didn't have good enough rapport with Hogwarts teachers to drop by their offices. Maybe that pesky Auror could help her.
She spun around and made her way through the corridors, tracing the path where she knew Tonks' patrol route was. She encountered peeves and had to dodge several water balloons. When he chased her, she ran around a corner, casting the disillusionment charm on herself, before hiding behind a suit of armor.
When the coast was clear, she continued her search but didn't find her. Maybe she only patrolled at night. What did the Aurors do while they weren't on patrol? Senna gave up, heading back to the library.
The sound of water splashing, a gasp, and a loud thud echoed through the hall. Senna chuckled. Looks like the poltergeist got someone this time. The voice in the distance cursed at him, threatening to call the Bloody Barren. Senna stopped. She recognized that voice.
She turned swiftly, running towards Tonks' voice.
"You're a graceful little swan, aren't you?" A man's voice laughed.
Tonks was not alone. Senna stopped abruptly, only a corner away from them now. Deciding it was not the best time, Senna turned back around but did not move—she was curious.
"Shut it, Proudfoot. I outrank you." Tonks snarled.
"Pft." Proudfoot scoffed. "I really don't know how that happened."
"Oh yeah? I'll show you how."
"Put away your wand. We have more important things to do."
"Right." She grudgingly agreed.
"Dawlish saw two death eaters on his Hogsmeade patrol, but Dumbledore's not worried. He doesn't seem to think they can break through our defenses."
"Blimey!" She gasped. "They probably can't, but it depends on which death eaters we're talking about."
"I don't know."
"They're not going to let the students out to Hogsmeade this weekend, are they?"
"Depends. Dumbledore thinks they were passing through, checking our defenses. If our Friday night patrol comes out clean, Dumbledore will give the go-ahead to the students."
"Well, if he thinks it's safe, we should trust him." Tonks agreed.
"I don't think so. I think he's a little too relaxed about this whole thing. The Dark Prince is up to something, and we can't afford to wait it out." They began walking again, their voices getting quieter with distance.
Tonks sighed. "Well, what do you want to do about it?"
Their conversation continued, but they were too far away now for Senna to hear.
Death eaters in the area? That was not a good sign for the tournament.
Senna's heart pounded nervously. She stood outside the dungeon where Potions would be held. She was being silly—she knew it. Chances were, she was not related to this man. But she couldn't help but be both worried and excited.
Students pushed past her, mumbling angrily about blocking the entrance. She took a deep breath and entered. She scanned the classroom. The first thing that struck her was the pervasive aroma of various magical ingredients. The scent was a heady mix of herbs, plants, and rare magical substances. The stone walls were lined with shelves containing jars and vials of ingredients, each meticulously labeled and sorted for easy access.
The majority of the class consisted of Gryffindors and Slytherins, with the occasional transfer student. Lee Jordan winked at her from the back of the classroom. She turned away, pretending she did not notice. She spotted Viola Richmond with her nose pressed against the potions book. A small group of Brownwells glanced up at her, terrified that she might decide to sit with them. She contemplated sitting away from everybody else, especially the other Brownwells, who made her stomach boil with rage, but then she remembered her goals for this year. Win the Tournament. Show everyone she was going to be the greatest witch of all time. Make friends.
She took a seat next to Lee, who greeted her warmly. She didn't meet his gaze, worried she would tempted to punch him in the face if she heard his thoughts.
Professor Snape stood from his desk, dropping his lesson plan onto the desk with a loud bang. The room went silent immediately.
He was a tall and thin man with pale skin, a hooked nose, and shoulder-length black hair, which framed his pale face with midnight curtains. He wore flowing black robes and a permanent scowl on his face.
"Ah. How nice of the transfer students to join us." He sneered at the variety of students pouring into the dungeon. "I don't know how much idiocy your schools tolerated, but here at Hogwarts, only the smartest, most devoted students will be able to grasp the science and art of potion-making."
Silence followed. Hannah was right. He was rather unpleasant.
"Let us see who we have here," Professor Snape took out a roll of parchment, glaring down at it as if it contained cockroaches instead of names. "From Beauxbatons, I have Bertrand Allan Trouvé, Abelin Barreau, and Clotilde Jacquet. Is that correct?" When there was no response, he continued. "And Durmstrang, let's see—Dagfinn Skaug, Ester Stigen, Rigmor Thanem, and Svanhild Overbey?" The Durmstrang students nodded at him.
My heart began to race forward. Would he make the same assumption that Viola and Professor Moody did?
"Brownwell. Caleb Chambers, Cassidy Perkins, James West, Natasha Barnes, and Se—" He began to choke and covered his mouth, letting the parchment roll up again. His black eyes were wide with disbelief. He scanned the room, looking at five transfer students in Brownwell uniforms. His eyes lingered on the three girls, trying to decide which one was Senna.
Senna's heart was racing faster now. Her fear had come true. She desperately hoped her face didn't betray her position. Thankfully, he didn't stare too long before opening up the parchment again to continue.
"Senna Severus Snape." He said quietly.
As if on cue, every student from Brownwell and the few from Hogwarts who knew her name turned to stare at her. Soon, everyone's eyes followed theirs. Senna could no longer hold her poker face. Scorching heat crept into her face, and she cursed at herself for it. Once this torturous class was over, she would lock herself in the dorms until she could better control her emotions.
Snape's gaze followed theirs and came to rest on Senna, his fixed upon her. Her heart lurched. His black eyes were like tunnels, drilling into her. He studied her with an unreadable expression, making her very uneasy. There was something there in his intense dark eyes, but she couldn't make out what emotion he was feeling. This nerve-wracking moment seemed to last for hours. Then, he tore his eyes away from her and returned to the lesson.
Finally, she was able to breathe again.
"The Draught of Living Death is a powerful sleeping potion that can be made by adding powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood…" Professor Snape began.
"Hey." Lee whispered into her ear.
She ignored him.
"Are you his daughter or something?"
Senna knocked over her ink bottle in shock. It spilled onto both their robes. They both stood up, trying to escape the rest of the ink that dripped from the table's edge.
Everyone, including Professor Snape, turned to see what the commotion was about.
"What the bloody hell are you two doing?" He snapped.
"Sorry, I spilled—" Senna started.
"Detention! Both of you." He bellowed. "And five points from Gryffindor." He stalked over to the ruined desk, his face furious. With a wave of his wand, he cleared the spilled ink.
Senna brewed her potion with her back turned towards Lee. She was angry that he had gotten her in trouble—although it wasn't rational. He wasn't the one who knocked over the ink. She had made this particular potion before. It wasn't an easy potion by any means. She had been in honors potions back home. The instructions in this book were identical to her old potions book.
Nevertheless, she had her own way of doing things. Twelve—not thirteen, sopophorous beans should be crushed with the silver dagger, not cut. She found that it released more juice that way. She added a clockwise stir every seven anticlockwise stirs, while the book just called for anticlockwise.
Soon, after meticulous calculations and incantations, Senna's potion was nearly transparent. Lee looked over at her brew, astonished. And he wasn't the only one. Several people were turning their heads to see Senna's success. The others were not having such luck. Lee's had turned a cloudy blue, and everyone else also seemed to have cloudy shades.
"How are you doing that?" Lee whispered behind her.
"Don't talk to me." She hissed.
Snape glided over to their side of the classroom. He stood directly over Senna's brew, but she did not look up. She was still angry about being given detention. Lee cowered back into his seat.
"Jordan, I dare say your potion would pretty much kill anyone who drinks it. Did you add Valerian roots before or after the beans?"
"I don't remember, Professor."
"Ahh, maybe you would remember if we tested this potion on you next time?"
Lee did not say anything.
"And Snape." He grumbled as if saying his own name was blasphemy. "You might not be an idiot like the rest of your peers after all."
Senna looked up at him, glaring directly into his cold black eyes. "No, Sir." She glanced back at the other Brownwells, whose potions were emitting thick black smoke.
Professor Snape's face changed then. The corner of his lips turned upward until he was very nearly grinning. He looked both amused and impressed. For a small moment, he looked like a different man. But as soon as she saw it—it was gone, his usual scowl back in place.
"An aptitude for potions means being precise, intelligent, cunning, and perceptive. Only the most brilliant of students can master such a tricky art. You would do very well in my house, in Slytherin."
Despite his bitter attitude, her heart swelled from the compliment. He seemed like someone who rarely gave compliments.
And then he walked away, insulting other students as he passed them, clearing out their failed potions.
"Jordan, Snape, stay after class. And Snape, don't clear your cauldron yet."
The other students vanished the contents of their cauldrons and began to pack up. When they filed out, Lee and Senna approached his desk.
"You two will have detention with me tonight. Jordan, you will be gutting frogs for me. I need two pounds of frog livers. The frog buckets will be by the west garden. Don't bring gloves." Lee groaned. Senna felt queasy. Would she have to do something equally as gross? "Jordan, you're dismissed."
Lee disappeared through the dungeon doors, his shoulders hunched. Professor Snape turned to Senna. "Would you mind if you left your potion brewing through the next class? Perfectly done, Draught of Living Death is hard to come by. If I brew it for another hour, it can be bottled and used."
Senna was both astonished and proud. A student's potion was rarely ever good enough to be usable. But what on earth would he use it for? "Yes, you can, Sir."
He walked over to her cauldron, analyzing it again. Then he stirred it anticlockwise seven times, then clockwise, just as she had. "I've never had a student brew a potion of this complexity with such precise results. Even master potion makers have trouble with this one."
He seemed more relaxed now, not being surrounded by students. His scowl was less pronounced, and his voice was not as harsh.
"I admire potion-making. The sheer complexity and magic of it is not something many people appreciate to its fullest." Senna told him.
He did not say anything. His eyes were still on Senna's Draught. But she swore she saw his head nod minutely.
"I have something else for you to do for detention." Professor Snape told her. "Meet me at my office at eight."
She was dismissed.