Chapter 35
Happy Birthday Ron!
Finally, the ceiling of the Great Hall revealed a calm sky. It was a drier morning. The clouds were just long wisps in the heights, streaked with patches of blue, like torn rags.
It was Saturday and Laurel was alone, sitting at the staff table. Although her hands were busy preparing a breakfast sandwich, her eyes remained static on the Slytherin table.
Draco Malfoy kept his head down, avoiding at all costs that his gaze strayed from the piece of toast he was bringing to his mouth, fully aware that he was being carefully watched. Now it wasn't just Potter he had to deal with on a daily basis. Ever since meeting her in Snape's office, the Akardos was determined to follow his every move, breathing down his neck like a bloodhound.
Even though Severus had assured her that Dumbledore had already been warned and that steps had been taken to prevent Draco from getting close enough to administer the poison, Laurel was convinced that Draco would find a way to carry out his task no matter who he might hurt along the way. She couldn't allow it.
Only a slight tremor in the leg showed the impatience that began to fill the young man's body. He swallowed the dry piece of toast as he took the wand out of his pocket. Slowly, hiding his movements under the table, he pointed it at the high table. His grey eyes narrowed in utter concentration; his breathing stopped. He didn't want to hurt her, he just had to distract her.
Some of the teachers gasped in surprise as pumpkin juice suddenly shot out of one of the pewter jars and completely drenched Professor Snape's assistant. Laurel forgot about the young Slytherin for a brief moment and looked incredulously at the jug that stood still next to her.
"What has happened?"
"No one has touched that jug."
"I'm sure it's a prank from a student."
Laurel knew immediately who the culprit was as soon as she caught a glimpse of a blond figure slinking away between the tables and out of the Great Hall. She did not hesitate to follow him even though her hair and clothes were soaked with the sticky orange liquid.
She went up the stairs fast, she knew where Malfoy was going. It was in the seventh-floor hallway that she always lost track of him. If she didn't know better, she'd say it was at that point that the young man managed to disapparate out of Hogwarts.
The woman stopped short, in the middle of that empty corridor, and stamped her foot in the ground with irritation. Once again, Draco had managed to be more agile than her.
She looked at the huge tapestry that adorned one of the corridor walls. In it, Barnabas the Barmy was still hell-bent on his mad attempt to teach some mountain trolls to dance ballet.
"Come on, Barnabas." — The woman said impatiently. — "I know you've seen the blond boy. Where has he gone?"
But Barnabas the Barmy just gave her a dismissive wave as one of the trolls swung its heavy club at him.
Laurel didn't stop to see if the troll had managed to hit the mad wizard on the head. With a snort she gave up and decided to go back to her bedroom, but when she turned, she was shocked to see Harry there, looking suspiciously at her.
"Good morning." — She greeted him pretending normality. - "It's a little early, have you had breakfast yet?"
Harry kept his watchful eyes on her as he clutched the Marauder's Map in his hand. He was in his bedroom when he noticed two ink dots with the names Draco and Laurel speeding one after the other towards the seventh floor hallway where the Room of Requirement was. It wasn't the first time he had seen those two names suspiciously together. This time he would not miss the opportunity to confront them.
"No". — He answered. — "What are you doing here, Miss? You are a bit far from the dungeons."
"I'm not relegated to just inhabiting the dungeons, Harry". — She replied, shrugging.
"Is Malfoy inside?" — Harry asked unceremoniously. — "Is Malfoy in the Room of Requirement?"
"The room of what?"
The expression on the woman's face was one of complete bewilderment, but Harry had no doubt that Laurel was in cahoots with Malfoy. What would she be doing in that precise place if it were not otherwise? The triad Snape, Malfoy, and Laurel, all of them in the service of Voldemort. He had insisted on sharing his hypothesis with Dumbledore, but he always answered the same:
"Professor Snape has my complete trust, Harry."
"Of Requirement". — He repeated, pointing to the empty stone wall. — "I have discovered that this is where he always goes. What is he doing inside?"
"Harry, I have no idea what you're talking about. Are you saying there's a room behind that wall and Malfoy is inside?"
"That's what I think... No. I'm sure of it." — He affirmed, puffing out his chest haughtily. He was determined to prove his theory true. Neither Ron nor Hermione paid attention to his suspicions about Malfoy but if he could break Laurel down enough, he might be able to get a confession out of her.
"I know Malfoy has been marked. His father got imprisoned in Azkaban and now he has taken his place. I know that Voldemort has ordered him to carry out a mission".
"How can you get into the Room of Requirement?" — She interrupted him as she approached the wall, brushing it with the tips of her fingers. She clearly wasn't paying attention to his words.
"Uhh…" — Harry felt his resolve waver, especially when he noticed the woman had pumpkin juice on her hair and clothes. — "Normally it appears when you have an urgent need. You must walk three times in front of the wall, thinking of what you need, and the room appears equipped with whatever you require".
"With whatever you want? Wicked!" — Laurel exclaimed in wonder.
"With whatever you need." — Harry corrected her. - "That's why it's called the Room of Requirement."
"Oh, I understand. Can you open it?"
"If Malfoy is in there, there's no way."
"And if Dumbledore orders it?"
"No, the Room has a will of its own, Dumbledore couldn't…" — Harry let out a heavy sigh at the disappointment on the woman's face. — "You really don't know what Malfoy is up to, do you?"
"Sorry I can't help you, Harry. You better go back to your common room. Now, if you'll excuse me, I must go."
Laurel tried to leave, but the boy got in the way, blocking her path.
"Do you know what the Death Eaters think of someone like you? Do you know what they can do?"
"I know that perfectly". — She replied in a whisper. — "Have a nice day, Harry."
Laurel walked away trying to appear calm, knowing that the sharp gaze of green eyes was following her. Sensing that she had put enough distance between herself and the seventh-floor corridor, she couldn't help but run towards the dungeons. She must wake Snape and tell him what she had discovered. However, upon reaching the first floor, she collided head-on with the huge belly of Horace Slughorn who was on his way to the Great Hall.
"Oh dear, what's the rush?"
"Excuse me Professor Slughorn, but I must..."
"What happened to you? Is that pumpkin juice?"
"What? Ah yes, I have spilled a bit…"
"Looks like you spilled the whole jug on yourself, dear."
"Yes, you're right" — Grumbled Laurel already annoyed. — "That's why I'm in a hurry..."
But Slughorn had already caught her with his chubby arm while chattering happily.
"Well, no matter, no matter. Since you are free, I want to take the opportunity to talk about business."
"Professor Slughorn, I can't…"
"But dear, there's no need to be so formal. Call me Horace". — He said, motioning towards his office. — "Now, have you thought about my proposal? I have exchanged some correspondence with my good friend Monsieur Landrú and he seems very interested in reaching an agreement. He is even willing to pay a good sum for a few strands of hair; provided of course we can prove you are indeed an Akardos. I am sure you have no problem paying a little visit to his shop in Knockturn Alley, or we may arrange a meeting in Hogsmeade."
Laurel watched helplessly as they passed by the steep stairs leading to the dungeons. Slughorn's voice became an unstoppable stream of ambitious plans. His eyes, so fixed on a mirage of future riches, failed to see the grim expression on the woman's face. In less than a minute Laurel was already sitting on a puffy sofa with a tiny plate of crystallised pineapple in one hand and a cup of tea in the other.
"At least 50 Galleons per gram! It's a very tempting offer." — Said the wizard, moving his walrus moustache from side to side with enthusiasm.
"Professor Slughorn..."
"Horace, dear. Hor-ace".
"Horace". — She repeated patiently. — "I'm not sure that's a good idea. I don't feel comfortable putting pieces of myself up for sale. I'm not a good luck charm, on the contrary…"
"It doesn't matter if you believe it, Laurel." — He cut her off. — "What matters is what they believe."
"Also, I thought Dumbledore asked the staff not to reveal what I really am. Don't you think it's dangerous?"
"It will be our little secret. Monsieur Landrú is completely trustworthy".
"I am not interested in money, to be honest. I have everything I need here".
"Ahh, so you are planning to remain in Hogwarts indefinitely? Will you become Severus' permanent assistant?"
The rehearsed reply she had worked in her mind two minutes before got lost in the sea of realisation that overflew her. What will happen after? What will happen when the school year is over? Would Severus return to his home in Spinner's End for the summer? Would he take her with him? What sort of relationship were they having? For the rest of the world, they were only professor and assistant, researcher and test subject. Was the strength of their bond really as deep as she thought? It was then that Laurel realized for the first time that Severus had never openly expressed his feelings towards her. He had never put a name on their relationship. They simply existed then and there and that was it.
"I know what you are thinking about dear". — Slughorn had finally set his gooseberry eyes into hers. — "Better yet, I know who you are thinking about".
Laurel was dragged out of her reverie with a violent jerk. She put the saucer and teacup aside and slowly got to her feet, hoping that Slughorn could see how uncomfortable she was feeling and would have the mercy to let her go.
"Thanks for the tea. I assure you that I will take your proposal into account." — She mumbled between her teeth. Nonetheless, the following words that came out from Slughorn's mouth left her speechless.
"Eileen Prince". — He got up too and walked over to a large curio cabinet built into one of the walls. It had caught Laurel's attention as soon as she walked into the office due to the sheer number of photographs on it.
However, the professor did not take any of the picture frames situated on top. Bending his back, he picked up an old newspaper clippings album and before long he found what he was looking for. He walked over to Laurel, his pudgy finger pointing at an article clipped from the Daily Prophet.
EILEEN PRINCE, CAPTAIN OF THE HOGWARTS GOBSTONES TEAM.
There it was a photograph of an extremely thin and dark-haired girl staring sullenly at the camera. She was about fifteen years old and was wearing her uniform with the Slytherin emblems. Laurel´s face went pale as she noticed the medallion, half hidden by the ruffles of the girl's shirt; the same medallion she was wearing, hidden under her robes.
"I couldn't get it out of my head, you know, that necklace. I was sure I saw it before. But of course, it belongs to the Prince family. Or rather, it belonged. Poor Eileen, she was the last one to have the honour to wear it". — Slughorn turned his attention to Laurel and noticing her consternation, he let out:
"Well, don't be embarrassed, the Prince family name will be lost forever, but the blood line continues on, with our most talented Professor Snape".
Laurel could feel how her paleness disappeared with the sudden heat in her cheeks.
"Did you know Eileen?" — She managed to mumble.
"Why yes, dear. She was my student, a promising figure due to the lineage of her cradle: the Princes. A century ago they were one of the most respected families of purebloods. Foreigners though. I believe the family tree has its roots somewhere in Central Europe, but I cannot be sure".
"So, she was part of your club?" — Laurel, who had heard about the Slughorn custom of herding talented and well-connected people around his persona, doubted he would have set eyes on Eileen, knowing how isolated and excluded from the wizarding world she ended up being.
"Hmm, I had her older brother Ciaran. I had high hopes for him, but after learning how he dilapidated his family fortune and got himself killed for gambling debts, you must understand I had my reservations. Eileen was a successful student, but lacked the spark, lacked the social skills required to triumph. Unfortunately, she lacked the Slytherin ambition. You could see from miles away she was the kind of girl that would settle for anything".
"You mean, she settled for a muggle".
"Oh, don't take it wrong dear. I am not a bigot". — Slughorn said matter of factly. — "But she ditched the chance to marry into a respectable family in order to run away with a nobody".
"Severus' father".
"It was one scandal after another" . — He continued, nodding. — "The family was already in shambles from years back. His son murdered, the betrayal of his daughter. Eileen's father couldn't take it all. He died soon after she left".
Laurel slumped back into the sofa, her hands looking for the medallion among the folds of her clothing, her fingers slowly stroking the engraved words.
"Ut Luceant in Tenebris" - She muttered under her breath.
"We shine in the dark". — Slughorn said, giving a final glance at the album before closing it and returning it back to its place. — "It's a shame that none of them could really be able to get through the dark times they got caught up in. Almost as if they couldn't shake their misfortune."
"The family line is not finished yet". — She blurted out, looking back at Slughorn who gave a sly smile, a twinkle appearing in his eye.
"No, you're right. It is not."
"How do you know all this? I don't want to be crude, but from what Severus has told me, it seems that you didn't give much thought to what might happen to him when you were his teacher and head of house even though, I am sure, he excelled in his studies".
Slughorn's face suddenly lost its lustre. His mask of boastful superiority fell off as his fat cheeks seemed to deflate. In the end he flopped into his chair, his eyes drifting to the shelf that held his personal bar.
"He was smart, the smartest kid in the house of Slytherin for sure, but I could never bring myself to include him in the club. He was never a happy kid. He was always". — Slughorn stopped, searching for the word. — "Off. I don't know how else to put it. He wasn't rude, or aggressive, or sad, or anything like that. But something was not right with him. Always, even as a child, he had this strange ability to detach. Even if he didn't do it on purpose, he pushed people away… He was plagued by solitude".
Laurel's heart turned to ash upon hearing Slughorn's words.
"Did you know that he was being abused by the other students? Were you aware of what was going on in his house with his parents?
"I may have heard about the Gryffindor antics, yes. Minerva mentioned it. And regarding the conditions he lived in at home…"
"You were too busy with the Slug club to care". — Laurel finished his sentence, her voice bitter.
Slughorn moved uncomfortably in his seat, the need to feel the burn of a hard liquor going down his throat growing stronger.
"I am aware I am not the best mentor, and that I was not the best head of house. I've made many mistakes… Not just with Severus…" — His voice cracked as he remembered Tom Riddle and his sycophantic voice that now gave him nightmares. — "But I beg you not to judge me too harshly".
"I wish I had enough willpower not to do it". — Laurel replied, trying to curb her feeling of helplessness.
"Oh dear, so you really have feelings for him".
"Is that so strange? To love someone like him?"
Slughorn stared at her for a few seconds, surprised by the simplicity with which she accepted her feelings. He remembered again the eleven-year-old boy, too short and thin wrapped inside his threadbare second-hand robes. Sallow skin and dark, brooding eyes that always shied away from any gaze.
"No". — He said as the gooseberry colour of his eyes shone again. — "It does deserve a toast".
Slughorn walked over to his bar cabinet, selecting among the different size bottles.
"What could we get at this fine hour of the morning? I've got this very fine bottle of oak-matured mead… Hmm, I meant to give it to Dumbledore for his birthday… Ah, well…" — He shrugged. — "He can't miss what he's never had!"
Slughorn poured the golden drink in two glasses and was about to handle one to Laurel when a rather hasty knock on the door stopped him. He moved his enormous body rather quickly to open it.
"Oh, Harry. What a surprise!".
Laurel turned her eyes to see Harry and Ron standing at the door. The redhead looking rather sickly, standing on his tiptoes, attempting to see past Slughorn into his room.
"Professor, I'm really sorry to disturb you, but my friend Ron swallowed a love potion by mistake. You couldn't make him an antidote, could you?"
"I'd have thought you could have whipped him up a remedy, Harry, an expert potioneer like you?" — Strangely, Laurel noticed, Slughorn seemed hesitant to offer them help.
"Er…" — Harry cursed the Half-Blood Prince and his Advanced Potions Making book for a moment. — "Well, I've never mixed an antidote for a love potion, Sir, and by the time I get it right, Ron might've done something serious".
"I can't see her, Harry. Is she there? Is he hiding her?" — Ron moaned, pushing Harry in the ribs, trying to force himself into the office.
"It's his birthday, Professor" — Harry said, imploringly.
"Oh, all right, come in, then, come in." — Said Slughorn, relenting. — "I've got the necessary here in my bag, it's not a difficult antidote…"
Ron burst through the door into Slughorn's crowded office, tripped over a tasselled footstool, and regained his balance by seizing Laurel around the neck. He stared at her with bloodshot eyes and muttered:
"You are not Romilda Vane".
"She's not here yet." — The woman laughed, helping him to sit down in the sofa. — "Now, you behave until she comes, okay?"
"Ah, Harry, I believe you know Miss Noel". — Said Slughorn while opening his potion kit and adding a few pinches of this and that to a small crystal bottle.
Harry, who had turned at hearing Laurel's voice eyed her with a raised eyebrow.
"Hello again, Harry". — She said with a shy smile.
"You still have pumpkin juice all over yourself, Miss Noel". — The young Gryffindor's voice had an accusatory tone.
Before Laurel could answer him, Slughorn handed Ron a glass of clear liquid.
"Now drink that up, it's a tonic for the nerves, keep you calm when she arrives, you know." — Said Slughorn smoothly.
"Brilliant". — Ron gulped the antidote down noisily.
They watched him expectantly. For a moment, Ron beamed at them. Then, very slowly, his grin sagged and vanished, to be replaced by an expression of utmost horror.
"Back to normal, then?" — Said Harry, chuckling. — "Thanks a lot, Professor."
"Don't mention it, m'boy, don't mention it". — Said Slughorn, as Ron collapsed back into the sofa, looking devastated.
"That was a rather strong love potion". — Commented Laurel while drying Ron's cold sweat off his face.
"Pick-me-up, that's what he needs". — Slughorn bustled over to the bottle of oak-matured mead. — "We should celebrate Mr. Weasley's birthday. Nothing like a fine spirit to chase away the pangs of disappointed love…"
The Professor poured another two glasses and handed them over his guests, winking an eye to Laurel while raising his own.
"Well, a very happy birthday, Ralph".
"Ron". — Corrected Harry.
But Ron, who did not appear to be listening to the toast, had already thrown the mead into his mouth and swallowed it.
"Ron! RON!"
Laurel saw the scene as if in slow motion. Ron had dropped his glass, he half-rose from his chair and then crumpled, his extremities jerking uncontrollably. Foam was dribbling from his mouth, and his eyes were bulging from their sockets.
She dropped to her knees, trying to figure what was going on. Then she saw the broken glass on the floor, empty of the golden mead.
"Poison! It is poison!" — She screamed trying to hold the jerking body in place.
"Professor!" — Harry bellowed. — "Do something!"
But Slughorn seemed paralyzed by shock. Ron twitched and choked: His skin was turning blue.
"What?! But…"— Spluttered Slughorn.
Harry leapt over a low table and sprinted toward Slughorn's open potion kit, pulling out jars and pouches, while the terrible sound of Ron's gargling breath filled the room. Then he found it: A shrivelled kidneylike stone.
He hurtled back to Ron's side, wrenched open his jaw, and thrust the bezoar into his mouth. Ron gave a great shudder, a rattling gasp, and his body became limp and still.