2022
Bill didn't answer any more of her questions.
But Hermione didn't ask much. Just a little something neutral and nothing personal, just to break the silence. It didn't work anyway. Her shoulders were still slumped, but fortunately her head was clearing. She counted the seconds one more time to keep her mind occupied, lost count, started again - probably several times - and then Bill got up and left without even saying goodbye.
Probably still deep in his memories.
Enough time had passed for her bladder to show its post-drinking cramped state, and Hermione decided to take a walk around the castle to the first bathroom she could find. She didn't want to go back just yet anyway.
An amazing evening was unfolding.
It seemed that her life had become so predictable that nothing had been more interesting in the last few years than the story of her husband's two older brothers - almost ex-husband. And her brain bit into every word, savoured it. Hermione didn't care about other people's personal lives. Really didn't. Even when she and Ginny went out together to get some air, and she talked about someone they knew together, Hermione only nodded every now and then, thinking about petitions, a department meeting, a meeting with Muggle leaders, about damned elites and spilled coffee on a new white robe - about everything, just not fresh gossip.
Arrain was not someone she knew. She was a strange, fleeting event and that was all. Hermione could barely remember their meeting... outside Minerva's office, wasn't it? Rushed, chaotic and as if she had just invented all this for herself.
In short, if it hadn't been for this evening of remembrance, Hermione would never have remembered her.
"...whether he wanted it or not. Samudra would have done it."
She had to slow down when she heard voices. By then, Hermione had returned to the Room of Requirement, having washed her face with ice water several times in a row and finally regained consciousness.
"Think so?"
"You really barely knew her, Draco."
It was hard to mistake them for anyone else. Apart from the fact that the name was mentioned, Hermione had met Malfoy before at the Ministry, and his voice was far from ordinary and unrecognisable, and she had been working with the second person for the last six months. It wasn't often that they exchanged even a few words with Professor Snyde, but her way of speaking had its own unique characteristics. Peculiar to their shared House, or what?
"She liked to get him," the woman continued irritably. Hermione peeked around the corner and watched them go. Malfoy obviously had nothing in his hands, hidden in his trouser pockets, but Merula was carrying a plate in one hand and a bottle of whisky in the other. "The older she got, the more she annoyed him. Believe me, if I don't bring him that damn pie, that damn idiot will cast a jinx me from beyond the grave.
"If the Headmaster doesn't jinx you first."
"Your truth... might be," Professor Snyde grinned. Hermione couldn't see it - she could hear the amusement in her voice. "But I've been doing this for many years, and so far I've walked away without any consequences."
They continued on their way and Hermione could no longer make out the words, so she just crept after them, past the chattering portraits, not even giving an account of her actions. Full autopilot in an empty head.
So the Нeadmaster is involved in all this...
Okay. That was quite obvious.
1984
Everything was dripping with magic.
Predictable enough for a School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Anyone would say that, but it was as if she felt the vibration of magic coming from the castle walls with every cell of her body, and that feeling was very unique.
And Jacob studied here not long ago...
Shaking her head, Arrain followed the tall woman, Minerva McGonagall. The Great Hall was exactly as her brother had described it: huge, and she could not take her eyes off the ceiling, even stumbling near the entrance - so she stared.
The ceremony was over quickly, and she was off to Jacob's House, and Arrain breathed a sigh of relief, for she had heard a lot about the castle's dungeons, and only good things. Her brother loved their common room. There was a crackling fire - she hadn't seen it, but she could imagine it - all day long, because otherwise it would be too damp in the dungeons. And the soft light from the wall sconces, painted green because of the water from the lake splashing outside the windows, was a relaxing treat after a hard day at school. Jacob particularly liked the fact that most of the objects in the common room and bedrooms were warm, thanks to some kind of spell: tables and chairs, sofas, beds and even shelves of books. Despite everything, they rarely had to be cold.
Arrain only had to learn that from her own experience.
After the feast, the expected confrontation with a senior student did not upset her, but only confirmed her fears: no one expected anything good from her, even if Arrain herself had no time for such things.
Of course, none of this was particularly hurtful. Only a little. In any case, the insults did not hurt half as much as the disappearance of her brother. And how she hoped to find at least some clues here, within the walls of the school! Anything that might point to his whereabouts. Anything to bring back the only person who ever really loved her. Maybe then the mother would stop looking like a wolf, blaming everything on her, as if it was Arrain who first drove the father and then the eldest son away from the family.
School would be her salvation, she was sure. And to hell with these insults... She even had a new friend, who was very, very cool. Rowan Khanna seemed sweet and funny. They had met near Ollivander's just before the start of the school year, just lost in the crowd of wizards. It was nothing new for Arrain to be alone somewhere far from home: with Jacob gone, there was no one else to look after her, and Rowan's parents had left for a few hours on urgent business.
The crowd frightened them both.
Probably their meeting was an ordinary coincidence, fortunately successful. And the conversation started of its own accord, with Rowan immediately dragging her off to look at books. Later, they even picked out some clothes: a scarf, for example, which made a new acquaintance look smarter and older - nonsense, of course, only dark blue suited her. And it was as if they had grown up together from the cradle - the first acquaintance and another month and a half of correspondence with the help of owls passed so easily. They agreed to meet on the Hogwarts Express or somewhere at the station - and they did. After that, everything was as good as it could be, for now even the House had become common to them. If there was at least one person on her side, especially one so sincere and kind, then there was no doubt: Arrain would stand up to all these difficulties.
After the feast, she was so tired that she fell onto the first bed that appeared in her and Rowan's room, completely forgetting to admire the Slytherin common room. Through the floating consciousness, the girl promised herself that she would explore everything exactly as it should be. But that would be tomorrow.
"Nice to finally meet you, Professor! I was looking forward to Charms class," she let out in a stream, trying not to yawn.
She hadn't slept enough. On top of that, she almost overslept breakfast, which Rowan had a hard time waking her up from - she had never been so hard to wake up from. How was she going to start exploring the common room when classes were about to start and she didn't even have a crumb in her mouth?
"Oh, Miss Samudra! If you are anything like your brother, you will certainly succeed in my subject! He was one of the most gifted students, but unfortunately also one of the most troubled. I hope you will obey the school rules?"
Arrain just gritted her teeth, forced a polite smile and nodded. No matter how much she missed Jacob, comparisons with him were already full of teeth, and the school day was only the first in a series.
"I'm here to learn, that's all," which was hardly true, considering the circumstances, but the first hour of Charms ended with a brilliantly executed Lumos (which her brother had taught her), "Well done, Miss Samudra, I haven't seen such wonderful technique from a first year in a long time!" from Professor Flitwick, and ten points for the House.
The first points of any Houses this year to fall with emeralds to the bottom of the Slytherin hourglass, surrounded by three empty ones. Rowan, her new only friend, exploded with praise, so happy that pride and warmth spread through her chest. She did something good for her House, right?
The next lesson on the schedule was Potions, meeting the Head of House, and Arrain could hardly wait for the remaining fifteen minutes, because of all the teachers, Professor Snape seemed to be the one who would not remember her relatives, because, as the boys from the older classes said, he cared hardly at all about the rumours and affairs of others. He was also young - only a few years older than her brother - and certainly fair. Arrain wanted to believe that, despite the fact that Jacob and the professor must have crossed paths at school.
He and Rowan had parted ways during the break, only to meet again just before the start of classes, under very unpleasant circumstances. Pinned against the wall, her scared but tenacious friend was confronting an extremely angry person.
Their classmate, apparently.
"...admit it!" She pinned Rowan against the wall, letting out a soft sob that sent shivers down Arrain's spine.
"You're a first year like me and everyone else, you can't...
"You'll never be on the same level as me!" she interrupted, slamming her back against the wall again.
Arrain dreamed of starting her studies without any problems, such as skirmishes and open conflicts, and especially with someone from the same Hogwarts House, but - Merlin sees! - circumstances would not allow it.
"Leave her in peace," she asked curtly, coming closer and fumbling for the wand in the inside pocket of her robes - just in case.
"Who the hell are you?"
"Arrain is one of those who can rightfully claim that title!" Rowan's eyes sparkled with a fierce desire for justice. "Even Professor Flitwick said she was the best..."
"Ah, Arrain. The one that Samudra, then."
"You'd better be quiet, Rowan..." flashed through her mind.
"The sister of that half-wit who made fun of our House, flew out of school like a cork and hasn't stuck his nose in anywhere since... I think I know who you are now. Unfortunately."
Not that her lips twisted in disgust or at least one of her words hit a nerve - Arrain had heard it all tens, if not hundreds, of times, so she just sighed and asked:
"And who are you?"
"Merula Snyde," came the answer from under the proudly straightened shoulders. "The best witch at Hogwarts."
An unfounded statement, empty talk, excessive pride... foolishness as it is.
"I heard the teachers talking about you at dinner. Do you think you're better than me?" Hardly, because she hadn't even heard of Merula Snyde to compare. "I have to throw you out with your filthy plans before you destroy the school like your crazy brother tried to do before!"
"Hey, I'm not going to ruin anything. I don't need any problems."
It was starting to get on her nerves, but Arrain took a deep breath and built a wall in her mind, as Jacob had taught her once. It always helped when the thoughts in her head got too loud.
Ignore it, just ignore it.
But in fact it was only the second lesson - and that had not yet begun! - and she was threatened, abused, warned, mocked, watched and...
"You're not going to react to anything, are you?" Merula grinned, twisting her finger at her temple. "Or are you as mad as your..."
"Samudra?"
A low voice appeared out of nowhere, weighing heavily on her shoulders, and, turning to her friend, Arrain noticed her swallowing hard. It was only after a few seconds that they saw the cloak flashing around the corner and finally the speaker himself.
"Obviously that name is going to cause problems."
"Professor Snape!" Merula flashed a smug grin as she turned to him.
Professor Snape, sitting not far away at the teacher's table in the Great Hall, but standing a few feet away from her, looked simply huge. Huge and eerily dark.
"Merula insulted my friend, sir, I was only trying to protect her," Arrain stammered an excuse, physically feeling the wall she had built crumble to bricks before a man who inspired either awe or horror.
And she was so eager to meet him!
"Go to Potions class. Now," he said coldly through his teeth. "And be thankful you haven't got detention."
Merula immediately disappeared, following the man. Trying not to let the disappointment seep into her mind and switch to something else, Arrain tugged at Rowan's sleeve.
"Did you hear what she said? Why were even the professors talking about me? I haven't done anything yet."
"Are you going to?" Rowan smiled, but immediately crumpled. "I don't know... let's just go, or we'll be late. We've had enough trouble already."
Which was a truth that didn't make things any easier.
And the aftertaste of getting to know Snape a little better - well, it was necessary to make him unhappy on the very first day! Not even in class! If it was any other teacher, she wouldn't even pay attention, but the Head of her House! To ruin a relationship with him like that... not a good start, there's nothing to say. But judging by his words, he already had prejudices against her.
"You think you're so special, Samudra?" Merula slapped her shoulder and took the last free seat at the same table. "You'll be the worst today, I bet."
"What do you m..."
"Ignore her," Rowan whispered, adjusting her glasses with the tip of her finger. "We've already been reprimanded by Snape, we'd better concentrate on the potion."
The potion to cure boils, to be precise, the training for which began with a short lecture and continued with a demonstration. The professor carefully lifted the sleeves just above the wrists, arranged the necessary ingredients in order, and explained step by step what he was doing. Despite the recent negative impression, Arrain again followed his every move with awe, trying not to miss a single detail. It was all terribly interesting.
Six snake teeth, ground to a powder, were already waiting for their turn when she placed the cauldron on the fire. While the heated mixture was being infused, Arrain prepared disgusting looking horned slugs and porcupine quills. After stirring five times clockwise at the end, she finished her first potion and received a stingy praise from the professor, if 'not so hopeless' could be called praise at all. Everything seemed to be settling down and the overall impression was, she hoped, saved when her potion suddenly bubbled up.
"What the...?"
"Very similar to Bulbadox powder," Rowan babbled in a panic, nodding quickly as if to convince herself of the truth of her assumption. "If you add it to Cure for Boils, it turns out..."
"Don't say it's an explosion!"
With the last word, the cauldron flew swiftly into the air and exploded, spilling its contents all over the work surface - prevented from spreading to the whole class by a protective spell that enveloped each group of students like a dome. The shock paralysed them for several long seconds.
"Congratulations," Snide said with an evil grin, shaking off the drops of brew. "You've cured the table of boils."
The classmates burst out laughing and whispering, and just as Samudra was about to sink through the floor, a scornful voice was heard behind her:
"In some ways you are even worse than your brother. I shouldn't have let you into class... Ten points from Slytherin."
"But, Professor!.. I think Merula put something in my cauldron! The potion was fine and..."
Shut up, don't make it worse!
"Have the conscience to take responsibility for your mistakes," he snapped back.
Bite your tongue, don't make excuses, it's stupid!
" Of course," she continued in spite of her inner voice, trembling all over with worry, "but you saw my potion yourself, sir, and Merula threatened before that she would do everything to make me fail today, because she thinks I will be better than her and..."
"Is that true, Miss Snyde?"
It was hard to imagine her looking so innocent. It was as if someone had replaced it: Merula's smug grin disappeared as if it had never happened, replaced by an expression of universal insult.
"Certainly not, Professor! I was trying so hard to brew my potion properly that I simply had no time to be distracted by such nonsense. I fear Samadra is as mad as her brother."
"Well... your parents were worthy representatives of Slytherin, Miss Snyde," he pointed out favourably, not even bothering to look at the guilty student standing next to him. "And your potion came out well. I will be watching closely so as not to miss your growth."
That was the end of the lesson, leaving only emptiness and a feeling of utter helplessness.
Arrain looked at the ruined cauldron and the spilled potion on the table, already running down in viscous drops. Resentment burned within her. Merula put her hand in - understandable, since the professor had declared the potion to be ready and suitable. But there was no proof, and for some reason Snape immediately refused to listen to her.
"This is just the beginning, Samudra, it will only get worse," Merula hissed as she passed by in the corridor. "What an idiot, she didn't know that Bulbadox powder would make a big boom! Haha... but I did. Now it has become clear who of us is smarter and more powerful, and who is just a pathetic, shameful shadow of her brother!"
Chuckling, she walked on, accompanied by some guys - they hadn't had time to get acquainted yet.
"What do you think," Arrain winced at the chill running through her skin, "what will the others do to me when we get back to the common room? I mean, the house just lost all the points we earned because of me."
"You were the one who earned them in the first place," Rowan sighed. "Although who cares..."
The bloody adventure of seven years had begun.
It had been going on for about ten minutes.
The glances directed at her from every corner of the living room, unfriendly and suspicious, made her feel sick, and Felix Rosier decided to scold her in the middle of a common room full of students of all ages. Loudly and revealingly.
"Like I said, Merula must have put Bulbadox powder in my potion! It was fine!" she had to repeat for the third or fourth time. No one believed her. Of course, all this sounded like excuses and provoked anger, but the blame for the exploding potion lay on someone else. "She threatened me and..."
"Well-well," Felix raised an eyebrow in skepticism. "Considering what your brother did to our House, there was nothing else to be expected from you."
"I'm not my brother!" her fists clenched on their own, and for the first time in two days at the school she dreamed of, Arrain felt tears of resentment well up, blurring the picture before her eyes. "I didn't do anything wrong!"
"Take this," the Prefect held out a rolled parchment bound with a thick thread, ignoring her words.
It was from Snape...
After a quick glance through the lines, Samudra suddenly inhaled sharply into her lungs and closed her eyes for a moment - as Jacob taught her to deal with emotions - then defiantly cleared her throat and read out the most important part:
"After analysis, I admit the possibility that your potion was spoiled by someone after preparation. Bring a can of pickled slugs from the storage room to the laboratory within half an hour, and then I will think about refunding your points."
Without waiting for the Prefect's reaction, to whom she thrust the letter back into his hands with a proud look, Arrain, sniffing, quickly made for the exit, hearing Rowan's footsteps behind her.
"Hey, wait! I can come with you if you want!"
The girl slowed down a little, allowing her friend to catch up. Of course she wanted to. She really wanted to, because Khanna was the only person in these walls who didn't despise her, who didn't make her feel abandoned by the whole world.
"Thank you, Rowan," Arrain said over her shoulder as they approached.
"You don't have to thank me... listen, what do your family call you at home? Maybe there's a shorter version?" Khanna took her arm cheerfully, changing the subject at least somewhat from what was going on at school. "You know, I think it's great to call friends in a special way, not like other people."
"Well... my parents only called me by my first name. Jacob came up with idiotic nicknames, I won't even say them," Samadra replied, her expression lightening against her will and her lips flashing with a smile. "So I can't help you."
"Then we have to think of something! Hmm... what if we remove the first letters? 'Rain' sounds great!"
"No, I can't stand rain."
"Oh, right, rain... well, then... oh, 'Era'! What do you think?"
"Too pompous."
"Hey, you can't think of too many variations on your name!
"Then call me whatever you want," the girl smiled and shrugged. But she definitely liked the idea, and anyway - the second option sounded really good.
"The Devil's Snare! Oh, mummy!"
Arrain tried to make out which side her friend's panicked sob was coming from, but it was hard to do so in the pitch black, amidst the monotonous sound of roots rubbing against each other.
"Just don't move!" Rowan's voice rang out again. On the left? "Listen, I read that this plant is afraid of light... Lumos could help, but my hands aren't moving at all. Will you try?"
"It won't help."
"W-why?"
"It's afraid of sunlight," it was getting harder to breathe: one of the roots wrapped around her chest, squeezing harder. "We need something else. I can't remember..."
"Try Lumos Solar," the classmate groaned. "Solar seems to mean the sun, my mother told me. Or... Wait, or was there a Solem? Yes, I think Sole..."
Rowan coughed when the roots began to move much more actively, threatening to suffocate her instantly. Their hearts, already pounding, began to beat even faster. Well, okay... Arrain's left hand was free, and the wand was in the inside pocket of her robe on the same side, very close to the root.
One clumsy move and they were done.
Why had everything happened so quickly that she hadn't even had time to suspect that something was wrong?
Of course, it would have been worth at least asking where the storage room was. She had only briefly heard that it was in the dungeons, somewhere near the living quarters, so the two of them had to open every door - or try to, since most of them were simply locked. And so, standing in front of another room, she and Rowan only had time to feel a push in their backs before the door closed behind them with a loud bang, and several people on the other side could be heard laughing. And Merula. Merula, of course! It was foolish to hope that she would leave them alone.
Trying to move as little as possible, Arrain took out her wand and tried to cast a spell with her left hand. Instead of a spell, sparks flashed through the air, but it was enough to make the roots loosen their grip on her chest and let her breathe. Then she took a deep breath and repeated:
"Lumos Solem!" it sparkled brighter. The roots began to stir, as if burned by crumbs of sunlight, and coloured dots danced in Arrain's own eyes. Too bright.
"Rowan, close your eyes!" she said, squeezing them shut before pointing her wand to the left, where a muffled "uh-huh" could be heard. "Lumos Solem!"
A momentary flash, even under the closed eyelids, stung her eyes, and the roots crawled away from her completely.
"W-works!"
"How are you?"
"The cloak is dead, but I think I'll be alive," Khanna said with a nervous chuckle, reaching her in a few steps. "Lumos!"
After blinking, Arrain tried to focus her eyes, but there were still bright spots everywhere she looked. And there was something to see: the Devil's Snare had literally swallowed up the room, leaving not a single inch free. Except for the door and a three foot piece of wet floor where the two of them huddled.
"There was no smell of a storage room in here..."
"Hey, who's there?" a booming, deep voice rang out just above their heads, and a palpable thump on the door from the other side almost knocked it off its hinges. "Is anyone there?"
Rowan swallowed and shouted back so suddenly that Arrain had not only spots in her eyes but ringing in her ears too:
"There are! We are! Please help!"
"Yeah, jus give me a second..." the man muttered, apparently ringing the keys. Less than a minute later, the door opened and Rowan almost pulled her friend by the scruff of the neck into the light.
"You saved us!"
"It's nothing," she smiled good-naturedly... wait, was it really a giant? What did Arrain say when she saw Professor Snape, that he was tall? Well, this man could fit two such professors! "An' i'm walking by, so, an' here are the firs' years, whispering! They saw me an' ran away, an' i thought, 'they've done summat, they're jokers! Well, didn' yeh hurt yourself?"
"N-no, it was quite... soft," Samudra managed, looking back. The room without the Lumos was once again infernally dark, even the light from the corridor did not penetrate it, and only the soft rustle of the roots made it clear what danger awaited anyone who accidentally got lost. "Thank you..."
"Ah, come on," the giant replied, embarrassedly combing his beard with a huge hand. "An' why have I opened yeh so quickly, yeh may ask, well, tha''s because I am the keeper o' the keys an' grounds o' Hogwarts! My name is Rubeus Hagrid, but yeh jus call me Hagrid, an' no 'sirs', d'you understand?"
"Aha..."
"Oh, an' look how alike yeh two are! Tha''s your brother Jacob, isn' he? He's a nice kid, but a troublemaker. He was always running around looking fer summat," Hagrid leaned a little closer to Arrain and winked. "But never mind, i liked 'im! He never refused ter help me, kind soul... Problem kids, well, wha''s there ter do? Me too, when I was a student... oh well, it don' matter. So wha''s your name, yeh say?"
"Arrain," the girl murmured, smiling shyly. Something warm stirred inside her as Hagrid spoke of her older brother, not unkindly at all, and as if even missing him. It was the first time anyone had talked about him in such a tone, which put the giant in the category of 'friends' without hesitation, right up there with Rowan. "But you can call me Era, Hagrid. It was invented by my friend, her name is Rowan Khanna."
"Nice to meet you!" the second girl beamed at all thirty-two with a smile and waved her hand.
"Tha''s very nice! Yeh've had a great idea, Rowan," Rubeus replied with a smile - there was probably nothing to be seen under the thick beard, only the expression on his eyes. "Now, let's go, I'll get yeh inter the common room before summat happens. Yeh should tell the elders or some o' the professors, or ter the Headmaster..."
"'Wait, Hagrid," Arrain braked when they had gone a few metres, "and where is the storage room?"
Felix looked down at the tin of pickled slugs in his hands, then at the two students in tattered robes, and sighed heavily: not a minute without a headache. The first year as Prefect was clearly off to a bad start.
"You don't have to believe me," one of them said, "but Rowan and Hagrid will tell you. When we went after the slugs, Merula lured us into a trap with a Devil's Snare. Hagrid got us out. And if the professor doesn't give us our points back, it won't be my brother's fault or mine, okay?"
After all, Snape had asked for this can in half an hour, and it's already been an hour or more. The Potions class was closed, and not even the fact that the girls, with Hagrid's help, found a bloody can of slugs after the incident, could save the situation. Time is up. Snape won't listen to excuses.
Samudra turned to go to her room, but Felix called out to her:
"Wait."
"What else?"
"Reparo," the Prefect waved his wand, sighed and looked away. "Your clothes... You have a flying lesson in twenty minutes, don't you want to show up in front of Madame Hooch like this?"
Was it Merlin's punishment when, in front of two Houses, Slytherin and Ravenclaw, Merula's broomstick, instead of an open palm, was smashed between her eyes? So hard that she lost her balance and fell clumsily to the grass.
Possibly. Probably. At least it was fair.
But Era couldn't even manage to laugh, she was completely devastated. Her broom had obeyed without a problem, and the first flight had been successful, because it had not been the first flight at all. There was a void in her head, and everything she had done during the lesson had become rather automatic. By the end, she didn't even have the strength to stand up, so she fell to the grass and refused to move, even when there was no one left but her and Rowan.
Khanna had a hard time persuading her to move to the courtyard of the Clock Tower, as the upperclassmen began to gather on the Quidditch pitch. There was still an hour and a half of free time before dinner, and Arrain would spend it leaning against the nearest wall, tree, stone, or here by the fountain, as she did now.
"Are you angry with her?" Rowan asked, sitting shoulder to shoulder, and, catching a blank look, explained in one word: "Merula".
"Ah... I don't know," Samadra shrugged, listening to the feelings inside. "Probably later. But not now."
"You know," the friend whispered confidentially, "it's all because she's miserable."
"Think so?"
"I'm sure. I heard from friends of my parents that two people called Snyde were followers of You-Know-Who and they were locked up in Azkaban... Her parents."
"That's terrible," Arrain pursed her lips and sighed. "But I still don't understand why she..."
"Hey, Samudra!"
A ringing but unfriendly voice rang out across the courtyard, and Merula herself flew out, surrounded by the same two of her classmates.
"Why are you sprawled out here? Are you planning to destroy more things?" her lips curled contemptuously again. "I was thinking: your crazy brother probably served the Dark Lord as well! Wasn't he? Such a nonentity does not need any more luck in life! And you are the same!"
And the devil pulled out her tongue when Arrain muttered a quiet phrase:
"Who says..."
All that remained in her memory after those words was an angry challenge to a duel, a spell that immediately flew in, knocking her down - and why had she got up before that? - A pair of lilac eyes, tears glistening in the corners, and a large red imprint of the shaft on her forehead.
The spell was weak and not at all painful. That was the price Era had to pay for poking at Merula's most vulnerable spot.
Merula was long gone by the time Arrain realised she had said something she should never have. Even if there were no specifics in her words, Snyde understood everything in the best way. The worst way. She understood everything exactly the way Era meant it, and that made her feel even worse. Well, just the icing on the cake.
"If you have to confront someone, never hurt the personal."
That's what Jacob said.
"Nothing is more annoying than a lack of reaction. You're smart, Mouse, much smarter than me. Always think before you act."
Smart, of course...
But at dinner, ten emerald crystals appeared again in the hourglass of her house.
Era didn't notice immediately, squeezed like a lemon to the last drop that day. Only when Felix, sitting at the other end of the table, caught her eye, nodded in that direction, mumbled "OK" and folded his fingers in the same gesture, did she realise: Professor had returned the points. Certainly not without Rosier's involvement, but the girl could not find the strength to express her gratitude. She nodded briefly and attacked the shepherd's pie.
She forgot about her wish to explore the Slytherin common room.
2022
Merula Snyde was a person of interesting appearance. Her eyes were a lilac colour, which was almost always accentuated by her cloak, which was a few shades darker. She kept herself in excellent shape - not surprising for a flight teacher. She was also quite tall, but the Headmaster still towered over her.
"She wouldn't forgive us if you didn't get your piece of pie," the woman said, holding out everything she had brought.
And he accepted. Snyde said something quietly to the Headmaster, who snorted and answered just as quietly.
Funny. It turned out that the Headmaster had been fed Molly's pies once a year for so many years - Hermione hadn't even imagined it before. But why? He wasn't like that.
And what was he like?
Everything Hermione-almost-again-Granger had learned about Severus Snape during her school years turned out to be a well-played role. Was there anything of the real him? There was, of course, but generally speaking, it gave no hint of the person's true identity. After that incident on Victory Day, she hadn't had a chance to find out more about him: Snape looked at Hermione less often than he ate Molly's pie. It had been annoying at first, then irritating, then turned to indifference.
But now Hermione was interested... What was Severus Snape like in his youth? What was his first time as Head of the House like? How did he treat the students from his House? Was he strict or a little more friendly? Did he pick his favourite ones? How did the Slytherins themselves feel about the House Head? And after they left school?
Why was one of his former students talking to him so casually and informally right now, and why did he accept a lemon pie and a bottle of firewhisky without a look of disdain or disrespect, without refusal, as if nothing was wrong?