Chapter Twenty-Eight
Stella was sitting in the kitchen with Fleur and Molly a few days later, Harry upstairs with Ron and Hermione while Ginny tried to hurry her laundry up so she could escape.
"Stella. Serez-vous ma demoiselle d'honneur?" Fleur asked, eyes full of hope. (Will you be my bridesmaid?)
"Oui, Fleur," Stella smiled brightly.
Fleur squealed happily and began talking about the wedding more. Ginny practically ran from the room once her laundry was done. Harry was down a moment later, searching for Stella.
". . . Bill and I 'ave decided on only three bridesmaids, Stella, Ginny, and Gabrielle will look very sweet togezzer. I am theenking of dressing zem in pale gold — pink would of course be 'orrible with Ginny's 'air —"
"Ah, Harry!" said Molly loudly, cutting across Fleur's monologue. "Good, I wanted to explain about the security arrangements for the journey to Hogwarts tomorrow. We've got Ministry cars again, and there will be Aurors waiting at the station —"
"Is Tonks going to be there?" asked Harry, handing over his Quidditch things.
"No, I don't think so. She's been stationed somewhere else from what Arthur said."
"She has let 'erself go, zat Tonks," Fleur mused, examining her own stunning reflection in the back of a teaspoon. "A big mistake if you ask —"
"Yes, thank you," said Mrs. Weasley tartly, cutting across Fleur again. "Do you both have your trunks packed? I know you probably do, Stella."
The two had stayed the night the night before and were staying again that night to make getting to the train easier. Stella made sure everyone was packed and sighed as she fell onto her old bed. Harry came into the room a few minutes later, in his pajamas already.
"Can I stay in here?" he asked her, a small blush on his face.
"Sure," Stella nodded, sitting up. "I'll get changed in the bathroom and be right back."
Stella returned in sleep shorts and a tank top. She pushed the window open, letting in a cool breeze. The house was always hot on the top floor and Stella had sweat for a bit before opening the window just the night before. Harry was staring at her when she turned around.
"You alright?" she asked him, seeing his face flushed.
"Hot," he stated.
"It's always warm up here," she nodded, climbing under the thin blanket with Harry. "Are you alright?"
"Yeah," Harry nodded, swallowing thickly. "Sorry. Had a nightmare last night."
"I'm sorry," Stella flinched, knowing the feeling all too well.
Stella woke wrapped in Harry's arms. She felt a bit awkward for a moment before realizing how well she'd slept. She settled and stayed cuddled up against Harry's chest for a few more minutes before the sounds of everyone moving around reached her ears. She woke Harry gently and he thanked her before leaving the room, heading back to Ron's to get ready.
The Ministry cars glided up to the front of the Burrow to find them waiting, trunks packed; Hermione's cat, Crookshanks, safely enclosed in his traveling basket; and Hedwig, Owlivia, Pigwidgeon, Luna's Pygmy Puff and Ginny Pygmy Puff, Arnold, in cages.
"Au revoir, 'Arry," said Fleur throatily, kissing him good-bye.
Ron hurried forward, looking hopeful, but Ginny stuck out her foot and Ron fell, sprawling in the dust at Fleur's feet. Furious, red faced, and dirt-spattered, he hurried into the car without saying good-bye.
There was no cheerful Hagrid waiting for them at King's Cross Station. Instead, two grim-faced, bearded Aurors in dark Muggle suits moved forward the moment the cars stopped and, flanking the party, marched them into the station without speaking.
"Quick, quick, through the barrier," said Molly, who seemed a little flustered by this austere efficiency. "Harry had better go first, with —"
She looked inquiringly at one of the Aurors, who nodded briefly, seized Harry's upper arm, and attempted to steer him toward the barrier between platforms nine and ten.
"I can walk, thanks," said Harry irritably, jerking his arm out of the Auror's grip.
Stella went through right behind Harry and the auror, Hermione and the others behind her. Harry waved for Stella, Ron, and Hermione to follow him up the platform, looking for an empty compartment.
"We can't, Harry," said Hermione, looking apologetic. "Ron and I've got to go to the prefects' carriage first and then patrol the corridors for a bit."
"Oh yeah, I forgot," said Harry.
"Well, don't sound too put out," Stella smirked. "You've still got me."
"You'd better get straight on the train, all of you, you've only got a few minutes to go," said Molly, consulting her watch. "Well, have a lovely term, Ron. Stella, don't blow anything up…"
"You take all the fun out of it, Mum," Stella complained.
Harry moved off to the side with Arthur and Stella looked around. Remus had said he'd try to be there to see her off but it seemed like he wasn't going to make it. She didn't blame him, it had been a full moon just the day before. Right when she was going to get on the train, Remus walked onto the platform through the barrier. She let out a relieved breath and hugged him tighter than normal.
"Sorry I'm late, cub," he told her.
"It's okay," she told him. "I'm just happy you're here."
"Remus," Harry smiled.
"Harry," Remus beamed. "I just came to you both off."
"You can say you're here for Stella. It's alright," Harry smirked.
"Nonsense," Remus shook his head, pulling Harry into the hug. "Both of you have a good term. Be careful and look out for each other. Write often."
"We will," Stella promised. "I left a key on the table to the house in Hogsmeade if you wanna stay for a bit. Love you, Uncle Moony."
"I love you, too. Both of you," the train whistled behind them. "Go on now."
Stella and Harry hurried onto the train, Remus and Arthur helping them push their trunks on board.
"Now, Harry dear, you're coming to us for Christmas. It's all fixed with Dumbledore," Molly told Harry. "You make sure to look after yourself and be good and stay safe!"
Harry and Stella waved to Molly and Remus until the train turned the corner and they were lost from view. Ginny was a little way along the corridor, chatting to some friends. Stella made her way to Ginny, dragging her trunk behind her and Harry following behind.
People stared at Harry shamelessly as he followed her. They even pressed their faces against the windows of their compartments to get a look at him. She had expected an upswing in the amount of gaping and gawping Harry would have to endure but this was ridiculous. Stella tapped Ginny on the shoulder.
"Want to find a compartment with us?" she asked her sister.
"I have to meet Dean," said Ginny brightly. "See you later."
"See ya," Stella smirked before seeing all the girls staring at Harry behind her.
"Hi, Harry! Hi, Stella!" Neville's voice called out and they both turned, greeting him.
"Hello," Luna smiled from behind Neville.
"Luna, hi, how are you?" Harry asked.
"Very well, thank you," said Luna, clutching a copy of the Quibbler to her chest.
"Quibbler still going strong then?" Harry asked her.
"Oh yes, circulation's well up," said Luna happily.
"Let's find seats," Stella spoke up.
They finally found an empty compartment and they hurried inside. Harry put Stella's trunk on the rack for her, surprised when it weighted almost nothing.
"Feather-light charm," she smirked. "I'll get you one for Christmas."
"Cool," Harry smiled.
"They're even staring at us!" said Neville. "Because we're with you!"
"They're staring at you because you were at the Ministry too," said Harry, as he hoisted his trunk into the luggage rack. "Our little adventure there was all over the Daily Prophet, you must've seen it."
"Yes, I thought Gran would be angry about all the publicity," said Neville, "but she was really pleased. Says I'm starting to live up to my dad at long last. Oi! Trevor! Get back here!"
"Are we still doing D.A. meetings this year, Harry?" asked Luna, who was detaching a pair of psychedelic spectacles from the middle of The Quibbler.
"No point now we've got rid of Umbridge, is there?" said Harry, sitting down.
Neville bumped his head against the seat as he emerged from under it. He looked most disappointed.
"I liked the D.A.! I learned loads with you!"
"I enjoyed the meetings too," said Luna serenely. "It was like having friends."
"Excuse you," Stella spoke up immediately. "We've been friends since we were kids. I even got you a present! Look!"
Stella pulled the pygmy puff down and passed it to Luna. There was a disturbance outside their compartment door; a group of fourth-year girls were whispering and giggling together on the other side of the glass.
"You ask him!"
"No, you!"
"I'll do it!"
And one of them, a bold-looking girl with large dark eyes, a prominent chin, and long black hair pushed her way through the door.
"Hi, Harry, I'm Romilda, Romilda Vane," she said loudly and confidently. "Why don't you join us in our compartment? You don't have to sit with them," she added in a stage whisper, indicating Neville's bottom, which was sticking out from under the seat again as he groped around for Trevor, and Luna, who was now cuddling the pygmy puff and showing it the Quibbler.
"They're friends of mine," said Harry coldly.
"Oh," said the girl.
"Yeah," Stella spoke up, eyes narrowed. "Oh."
She withdrew, sliding the door closed behind her.
"People expect you to have cooler friends than us," said Luna, once again displaying her knack for embarrassing honesty.
"You are cool," said Harry shortly. "None of them was at the Ministry. They didn't fight with me."
"That's a very nice thing to say," beamed Luna.
Then she pushed her Spectrespecs farther up her nose and settled down to read The Quibbler.
"We didn't face him, though," said Neville, emerging from under the seat with fluff and dust in his hair and a resigned-looking Trevor in his hand. "You did. You should hear my gran talk about you. 'That Harry Potter's got more backbone than the whole Ministry of Magic put together!' She'd give anything to have you as a grandson. . . ."
Harry pulled Stella closer to him. Anytime someone mentioned him facing Voldemort, he would get uncomfortable and grab her hand or pull her to him. It was almost like third and fourth year all over again. Harry changed the subject to O.W.L. results. While Neville recited his grades and wondered aloud whether he would be allowed to take a Transfiguration N.E.W.T. with only an "Acceptable," Stella could tell that Harry wasn't really listening so Stella spoke up.
"I'm sure you can speak with her. I'll agree to tutor you and everything if needed."
"Would you really?" Neville asked excitedly.
"Of course," Stella smiled.
"You all right, Harry? You look funny," said Neville.
Harry started. "Sorry — I —"
"Wrackspurt got you?" asked Luna sympathetically, peering at Harry through her enormous colored spectacles.
"I — what?"
"A Wrackspurt . . . They're invisible. They float in through your ears and make your brain go fuzzy," she said. "I thought I felt one zooming around in here."
She flapped her hands at thin air, as though beating off large invisible moths. Stella began batting her hands around as well to assist. Harry and Neville caught each other's eyes and hastily began to talk of Quidditch.
The weather beyond the train windows was as patchy as it had been all summer; they passed through stretches of the chilling mist, then out into weak, clear sunlight. It was during one of the clear spells, when the sun was visible almost directly overhead, that Ron and Hermione entered the compartment at last.
"Wish the lunch trolley would hurry up, I'm starving," said Ron longingly, slumping into the seat beside Stella and rubbing his stomach. "Hi, Neville. Hi, Luna." Ron turned to her. "Your cousin is an ass."
"What'd Tonks do?" Stella asked.
"Malfoy."
"Tonks did Malfoy?" Stella scrunched her nose up. "No wonder she's been in such a sad mood."
"No," Ron groaned, rubbing his face and dropping the subject.
Stella had heard Harry's theory about Draco being a death eater and had listened to Ron and Hermione blow him off, saying Voldemort wouldn't make a sixteen year old a death eater. She thought of Uncle Reggie but didn't say anything, knowing for a fact that it had happened in the past.
"Malfoy was made prefect but he's just sitting with the other Slytherins," Hermione clarified.
"Lazy ass," Ron grumbled.
"Maybe he preferred the Inquisitorial Squad," said Hermione. "Maybe being a prefect seems a bit tame after that."
"I don't think so," said Harry. "I think he's —"
But before he could expound on his theory, the compartment door slid open again and a breathless third-year girl stepped inside.
"I'm supposed to deliver these to Neville Longbottom, Stella Black, and Harry P-Potter," she faltered, as her eyes met Harry's and she turned scarlet.
She was holding out three scrolls of parchment tied with violet ribbon. Perplexed, Stella, Harry, and Neville took the scroll addressed to each of them and the girl stumbled back out of the compartment.
"What is it?" Ron demanded, as Stella unrolled hers.
"An invitation," said Harry.
'Stella, I would be delighted if you would join me for a bite of lunch in compartment C. Sincerely, Professor H. E. F. Slughorn'
"Who's Professor Slughorn?" asked Neville, looking perplexedly at his own invitation.
"New teacher," said Harry. "Well, I suppose we'll have to go, won't we?"
"But what does he want me for?" asked Neville nervously, as though he was expecting detention.
"He likes purebloods," Stella sighed.
"Let's go under the Invisibility Cloak, then we might get a good look at Malfoy on the way, see what he's up to," Harry stated.
This idea, however, came to nothing: The corridors, which were packed with people on the lookout for the lunch trolley, were impossible to negotiate while wearing the cloak. Harry stowed it regretfully back in his bag, reflecting that it would have been nice to wear it just to avoid all the staring, which seemed to have increased in intensity even since they had last walked down the train.
Every now and then, students would hurtle out of their compartments to get a better look at him. The exception was Cho Chang, who darted into her compartment when she saw Harry coming. As Harry passed the window, he saw her deep in determined conversation with her friend Marietta, who was wearing a very thick layer of makeup that did not entirely obscure the odd formation of pimples still etched across her face. Smirking slightly, Harry pushed on, leading Stella by her hand, Neville behind them.
When they reached compartment C, they saw at once that they were not Slughorn's only invitees, although judging by the enthusiasm of Slughorn's welcome, Harry was the most warmly anticipated.
"Harry, m'boy!" said Slughorn, jumping up at the sight of him so that his great velvet-covered belly seemed to fill all the remaining space in the compartment. His shiny bald head and great silvery mustache gleamed as brightly in the sunlight as the golden buttons on his waistcoat. "Good to see you, good to see you! And you Stella! And you must be Mr. Longbottom!"
Neville nodded, looking scared. At a gesture from Slughorn, they sat down, Stella beside Harry and Neville opposite her, in the only three empty seats, which were nearest the door. There were two seventh years that Stella didn't recognize and, squashed in the corner beside Slughorn and looking as though she were not entirely sure how she'd gotten there, Ginny.
"Now, do you know everyone?" Slughorn asked the three. "This is Cormic McLaggen, perhaps you've come across each other? No?"
McLaggen, a large, wiry-haired youth, raised a hand, and Harry and Neville nodded back at him.
"— and this is Marcus Belby, I don't know whether — ?"
Belby, who was thin and nervous-looking, gave a strained smile.
"— and this charming young lady tells me she knows you!" Slughorn finished.
Ginny grimaced and Stella decided to give her a bit of assistance.
"Hello, little sister," Stella told her.
"Sister?" Slughorn asked.
"I was raised by the Weasleys," Stella explained.
"Well now, this is most pleasant," said Slughorn cozily. "A chance to get to know you all a little better. Here, take a napkin. I've packed my own lunch; the trolley, as I remember it, is heavy on licorice wands, and a poor old man's digestive system isn't quite up to such things. . . . Pheasant, Belby?"
Belby started and accepted what looked like half a cold pheasant.
"I was just telling young Marcus here that I had the pleasure of teaching his Uncle Damocles," Slughorn told Harry and Neville, now passing around a basket of rolls. "Outstanding wizard, outstanding, and his Order of Merlin most well-deserved. Do you see much of your uncle, Marcus?"
Unfortunately, Belby had just taken a large mouthful of pheasant; in his haste to answer Slughorn he swallowed too fast, turned purple, and began to choke.
"Anapneo," said Slughorn calmly, pointing his wand at Belby, whose airway seemed to clear at once.
"Not . . . not much of him, no," gasped Belby, his eyes streaming.
"Well, of course, I daresay he's busy," said Slughorn, looking questioningly at Belby. "I doubt he invented the Wolfsbane Potion without considerable hard work!"
Stella was paying attention now.
"I suppose . . ." said Belby, who seemed afraid to take another bite of pheasant until he was sure that Slughorn had finished with him. "Er . . . he and my dad don't get on very well, you see, so I don't really know much about . . ."
Stella was no longer paying attention. Belby's voice tailed away as Slughorn gave him a cold smile and turned to McLaggen instead.
"Now, you, Cormac," said Slughorn, "I happen to know you see a lot of your Uncle Tiberius, because he has a rather splendid picture of the two of you hunting nogtails in, I think, Norfolk?"
"Oh, yeah, that was fun, that was," said McLaggen. "We went with Bertie Higgs and Rufus Scrimgeour — this was before he became Minister, obviously
"Ah, you know Bertie and Rufus too?" beamed Slughorn, now offering around a small tray of pies; somehow, Belby was missed out. "Now tell me . . ."
It was Neville's turn next: This was a very uncomfortable ten minutes, for Neville's parents, well-known Aurors, had been tortured into insanity by Bellatrix Lestrange and a couple of Death Eater cronies. At the end of Neville's interview, Stella had the impression that Slughorn was reserving judgment on Neville, yet to see whether he had any of his parents' flair.
"Stella Black," Slughorn turned to her as Stella was wondering if Blaise and Theo would have been invited had they been here. "The daughter of Sirius Black, who was the only Black to not be in Slytherin. You must tell me now. Are you head of the family after your father's passing?"
Harry and Stella gripped hands so tightly that Stella was surprised that either of them had any circulation left.
"I am," she nodded, voice small.
"Oh, the Blacks run so many businesses! How are you handling them?"
"I have help from the goblins at Gringotts," she admitted. "They've given the most helpful advice and advised me since I was eleven."
Slughorn asked a few more questions about the family businesses and how many seats Stella held in the Wizengamot. Stella decided that she did not like Slughorn. She fiddled with her ring, thinking as much and feeling hollow when Sirius didn't respond to her thoughts. She'd been doing that a lot…
"And now," said Slughorn, shifting massively in his seat with the air of a compere introducing his star act. "Harry Potter! Where to begin? I feel I barely scratched the surface when we met over the summer!" He contemplated Harry for a moment as though he was a particularly large and succulent piece of pheasant, then said, " 'The Chosen One,' they're calling you now!"
Belby and McLaggen were staring at Harry as he said nothing, just holding Stella's hand impossibly tighter.
"Of course," said Slughorn, watching Harry closely, "there have been rumors for years. . . . I remember when — well — after that terrible night — Lily — James — and you survived — and the word was that you must have powers beyond the ordinary —
"Such rumors this summer. Of course, one doesn't know what to believe, the Prophet has been known to print inaccuracies, make mistakes — but there seems little doubt, given the number of witnesses, that there was quite a disturbance at the Ministry and that you were there in the thick of it all!"
Harry continued to say nothing and Stella got the impression that Harry wasn't fond of Slughorn, either. Slughorn beamed.
"So modest, so modest, no wonder Dumbledore is so fond — you were there, then? But the rest of the stories — so sensational, of course, one doesn't know quite what to believe — this fabled prophecy, for instance —"
"We never heard a prophecy," said Neville, turning geranium pink as he said it.
"That's right," said Ginny staunchly. "Neville, Stella, and I were all there too, and all this 'Chosen One' rubbish is just the Prophet making things up as usual."
"You were all there too, were you?" said Slughorn with great interest, looking from Ginny to Neville, but both of them sat clam-like before his encouraging smile.
"We were," Stella's voice was still small and Harry released her hand to wrap his arm around her waist, pulling her close.
"Yes . . . well . . . it is true that the Prophet often exaggerates, of course. . . ." Slughorn said, sounding a little disappointed. "I remember dear Gwenog telling me (Gwenog Jones, I mean, of course, Captain of the Holyhead Harpies) —"
The afternoon wore on with more anecdotes about illustrious wizards Slughorn had taught, all of whom had been delighted to join what he called the "Slug Club" at Hogwarts. Stella could not wait to leave but couldn't see how to do so politely. So she thought 'Screw it' and decided to be rude.
"We should get back to our compartments," she interrupted Slughorn in the middle of some story that she hadn't been listening to. "We'll need to get our uniforms on."
"Good Gracious! It's already getting late! I didn't notice! Go, go! McLaggen, you must drop by and borrow that book on nogtails. Harry, Stella – any time you're passing. Same goes for you, miss. Off you go."
Stella didn't point out that he had failed to mention Neville, not wanting to embarrass Neville. Instead, they filed out of the compartment, all breathing a sigh of relief.
"I'm glad that's over," muttered Neville. "Strange man, isn't he?"
"Yeah, he is a bit," said Harry. "How come you ended up in there, Ginny?"
"He saw me hex Zacharias Smith," said Ginny. "You remember that idiot from Hufflepuff who was in the D.A.? He kept on and on asking about what happened at the Ministry and in the end he annoyed me so much I hexed him — when Slughorn came in I thought I was going to get detention, but he just thought it was a really good hex and invited me to lunch! Mad, eh?"
They were passing the Slytherins now and it was Stella being stared at now. She could see people whispering, pointing at her as she went. She was sure they must be talking about how she failed to protect Blaise and Theo just a few months ago, even without being able to hear them. If the others noticed, they said nothing, just kept trying to distract Stella.
She didn't listen to them though, continuing to walk down the corridor towards their compartment. Her head was held high and no emotions showed on her face. Theo would have been proud and Blaise would have smirked as he swaggered along beside her.
Pansy's face popped out of one of the compartments as she bought a licorice wand from the trolley. Her eyes landed on Stella as the trolley moved along and Stella froze. She may be able to pretend in front of others, but Pansy was rather good at seeing through people. It was something she both loved and hated about the girl. The others froze behind Stella and Daphne came out from behind Pansy, looking confused before she saw Stella as well.
"Come on," Neville told Stella, Harry having disappeared somehow.
Stella shook herself and continued walking. As they passed the compartment, Daphne scoffed and Pansy shushed her. Other Slytherins had their compartments open and had seen her coming.
"She let Zabini die…"
"Nott's still in the hospital…"
"Should be her…"
"How she can even show her face…"
"They were blood traitors anyways…"
"Good riddance…"
"Let's place bets on when Nott will finally bite it."
Giggles were heard after the last one and it took everything in Stella not to pull Blaise's wand from her hair and turn it on the fifth years that she had helped tutor since they'd started Hogwarts.
Stella and Neville reached their compartment, finding only Luna left in it. Stella sat quietly in her seat, staring out the window and saying nothing. Neville and Luna both tried talking to her but it was useless. Stella had pulled back into herself, refusing to acknowledge anything around her. Ron and Hermione rejoined them.
"Where's Harry?" Ron asked and Stella turned, not having even realized that Harry wasn't with them.
"Dunno," Neville shrugged. "He went under his cloak after lunch and we haven't seen him since."
"Stella's back, though," Luna offered.
"Oh, thank Merlin," Neville sighed. "I was worried when you just stopped talking to us."
"Sorry," she whispered to him.
"Don't listen to any of them, Stella," Neville told her.
"Any of who?" Hermione asked.
"Did someone upset you?" Ron demanded.
"Some of the Slytherins," Stella told him. "It's not important."
"It obviously is if it upset you," Ron shook his head.
"Just drop it, please? Let's find Harry."
"You need to change," Hermione told Stella.
"Right," Stella sighed.
While Stella and Luna changed into uniforms, Neville, Ron, and Hermione walked through the train, finding no sign of Harry.
"I hope he hasn't done anything too… Harry," Hermione sighed.
"Did you just use his name as a verb?" Stella smirked.
"Possibly," Hermione smiled softly.
"Nice," Stella nodded. "Let's get to the castle. I'll let Professor Snape know that he's missing."
"Why don't we tell Professor McGonagall?" Ron asked, seeming uneasy.
"Because Professor McGonagall has to sort out the first years," Stella sighed. "Let's go."
The five exited the train, walking towards the carriages. Stella froze once they saw the carriages. Large, winged black horses were visible. A shuttered breath left Stella as she just stared.
"Stella?" Neville asked softly.
"She can see them now," Luna explained to Neville before looking to Stella. "Come on, Stella. Let's get to Professor Snape."
Luna took Stella's hand gently, leading her to the carriage, which took off the moment they were all seated. Stella couldn't stop staring at them over Ron and Hermione's shoulders. As they stepped off the carriage, Stella ran her fingers gently over the Thestrals, remembering when Blaise had held her as they flew from the school to London, chuckling in her ear every time she felt her anxiety getting to her before calming her and telling her that he wouldn't let her fall, keeping her warm….
"Miss Black," Snape's voice broke through her thoughts and she turned to find him staring at her with soft eyes, Luna and Neville just behind him.
"I can see them now…" Stella whispered.
"Let's get you to the school," he told her, hand going to her shoulder. "Thank you, Miss Lovegood and Mister Longbottom. You may go."
The rest of the students were already almost gone. Stella took a few deep breathes before nodding to Snape and following him towards the school. A patronus that resembled a wolf appeared in front of them.
"I accept," Snape sighed, sounding annoyed.
"Hagrid, I've found Harry. He was on the train under his cloak. Looks like someone stunned him. On our way now. Meet you at the gate," Tonks's voice spoke.
"Why does Tonks's patronus look like a wolf?" Stella asked, voice flat.
"She has a thing for Remus," Snape grumbled, rolling his eyes.
"Is that jealousy, Professor?" Stella smirked.
"Am I to give you a detention before the opening feast has even begun this year, Black?" Snape asked.
"That's a yes to both our questions."
Snape and Stella both headed towards the gate, a lantern bobbing between the two of them. Stella could only see Tonks in the distance until they got a bit closer and Harry pulled his cloak off, revealing that he had just been hidden. Stella let out a relieved sigh.
"Well, well, well," sneered Snape, taking out his wand and tapping the padlock once, so that the chains snaked backward and the gates creaked open. "Nice of you to turn up, Potter, although you have evidently decided that the wearing of school robes would detract from your appearance."
Stella knew that Snape was peeved about Tonks's patronus but there was no need to be rude to Harry for it.
"I couldn't change, I didn't have my —" Harry began, but Snape cut across him.
"There is no need to wait, Nymphadora." Oh, he was very peeved. "Potter is quite — ah — safe in my hands."
"I meant Hagrid to get the message," said Tonks, frowning.
"Hagrid was late for the start-of-term feast, just like Potter here, who Miss Black had already come to me about, so I took it instead. And incidentally," said Snape, standing back to allow Harry to pass him, "I was interested to see your new Patronus."
He shut the gates in her face with a loud clang and tapped the chains with his wand again, so that they slithered, clinking, back into place.
"I think you were better off with the old one," said Snape, the malice in his voice unmistakable. "The new one looks weak."
Stella let her head fall back, biting her lip to keep in her groan of annoyance.
"Good night," Harry called to Tonks as they began walking. "Thanks for… everything."
"See you, Harry. Cousin."
"Cousin," Stella sighed.
Snape did not speak for a long moment and Harry was glaring at Snape's back with so much hatred that Stella was surprised he didn't burst into flame from accidental magic. Harry was holding Stella's hand tightly in his and she felt like it was the only thing that kept her moving when they passed the Thestrals again.
"Fifty points from Gryffindor for lateness, I think," said Snape. "And, let me see, another twenty for your Muggle attire. You know, I don't believe any House has ever been in negative figures this early in the term: We haven't even started pudding. You might have set a record, Potter."
Stella let her groan of annoyance out this time and Snape looked over his shoulder at her, eyes narrowed slightly.
"Another detention, Miss Black. That makes two before you've even reached the castle. Another record," he told her before addressing Harry again. "I suppose you wanted to make an entrance, did you? With no flying car available, you decided that bursting into the Great Hall halfway through the feast ought to create dramatic effect."
"Well we did learn from Sirius," Stella spoke up, feeling her heart twist a bit when she said his name.
Snape said nothing but Stella saw Harry smirk from beside her. They reached the castle steps at last and as the great oaken front doors swung open into the vast flagged entrance hall, a burst of talk and laughter and of tinkling plates and glasses greeted them through the doors standing open into the Great Hall. Stella wondered if the two could toss the cloak on and sneak to the Gryffindor table (which was the furthest from the entrance) so they wouldn't be noticed.
"No cloak. You can both walk to your tables so that everyone can see you, which is what you wanted, I'm sure."
"I think I'll just skip the feast," Stella decided, pulling Harry by the hand towards the kitchens.
"You will do no such thing," Snape spoke up, looking directly at her now. "You will appear weak if you skip or if you choose to eat with a house that is not your own."
Stella let out an annoyed groan and leaned into Harry for a moment before nodding to Snape. Stella pulled a wand out and tapped Harry's face, whispering a spell to clean the blood from his face. She also tossed her cloak onto him, not really caring that the Slytherin emblem was on it and was a few inches short. It covered Harry's Muggle clothes and she was still technically in uniform. They walked into the Great Hall, hand-in-hand.
The Great Hall, with its four long House tables and its staff table set at the top of the room, was decorated as usual with floating candles that made the plates below glitter and glow. People had turned to stare at them and Stella raised her chin. Harry kissed the top of her head before moving pass the Hufflepuff table to get to the Gryffindor table. Stella walked pass the Ravenclaws, walking over to the Slytherins. She could hear them whispering much the same thing she'd heard on the train. Instead of feeling a great sadness trying to swallow her whole, she felt anger rising inside, a hot blinding anger that made her intestines feel as if they were on fire.
She sat down without caring who she was beside. It didn't matter who she sat beside because the Slytherins beside and in front of her slid down the bench away from her quickly, as if afraid that they would be next. Dinner foods disappeared before Stella could even think to reach for anything, replaced by pudding. She added a bit to her plate, knowing she needed to eat at least something, sitting up straight and listening to the voices around her.
"She killed him…"
"Her fault…"
"Blood traitors…"
"Deserved what they got…"
"Orphan now…"
Giggling as they imagined different ways that Blaise and Sirius had died and Theo had been injured. Stella would not stand for it. She couldn't very well duel everyone in her house, though. No. She would need a plan. And more items from Fred and George. She was very thankful that she'd grabbed multiple mail order forms while in the shop. She'd promised trouble, was sister to the Weasley twins, Snape's favorite student, and the daughter of a Marauder.
The Slytherins didn't stand a chance.
Dumbledore got to his feet and the noise around the hall died immediately. His hand looked worse than it had before, blackened and dead. Whispers broke out, this time not directed at her. Dumbledore merely smiled and shook his purple and gold sleeve over his injury.
"Nothing to worry about," he assured the students. "Now… to our new students, welcome. To our old students, welcome back. Another year full of magical education awaits you! Mr. Filch, the caretaker, has asked me to say that there is a blanket ban on joke items bought at the shop called Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes," Stella was glad she'd hidden the items in different boxes so they weren't recognizable. "Those wishing to play for their House Quidditch teams should give their names to the Heads of House as usual. We are also looking for new Quidditch commentators, who should do likewise.
"We are pleased to welcome a new member of staff this year. Professor Slughorn—" Slughorn stood up, his bald head gleaming in the candlelight, his big waistcoated belly casting the table below into shadow "—is a former colleague of mine who has agreed to resume his old post of Potions master."
Stella sat up impossibly straighter, eyes finding Snape immediately as a smile began to spread across her face. He had a slight smirk, eyes sweeping the room before landing on her. Her gave the smallest of nods and Stella got ready.
"Professor Snape, meanwhile," Dumbledore had to raise his voice to be heard over all the mutterings that had broken out, "will be taking over the position of Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher."
Stella cheered loudly with the rest of the Slytherins, perhaps the loudest if she were being honest. Snape, who was sitting on Dumbledore's right, did not stand up at the mention of his name; he merely raised a hand in lazy acknowledgment of the applause from the Slytherin table, a look of triumph on his face.
Stella reached into her bag and set off a small box of fireworks, green and silver flying into the air and exploding spectacularly. Once the fireworks ended, Dumbledore cleared his throat, a small smile sent in Stella's direction.
"Now, as everybody in this Hall knows, Lord Voldemort and his followers are once more at large and gaining in strength," Stella's smile fell instantly, going back to a blank expression but catching Malfoy flinching slightly and reaching for his arm and making a fork float lazily in the air, as if trying to seem like he wasn't listening. "I cannot emphasize strongly enough how dangerous the present situation is, and how much care each of us at Hogwarts must take to ensure that we remain safe. The castle's magical fortifications have been strengthened over the summer, we are protected in new and more powerful ways, but we must still guard scrupulously against carelessness on the part of any student or member of staff.
"I urge you, therefore, to abide by any security restrictions that your teachers might impose upon you, however irksome you might find them — in particular, the rule that you are not to be out of bed after hours. I implore you, should you notice anything strange or suspicious within or outside the castle, to report it to a member of staff immediately. I trust you to conduct yourselves, always, with the utmost regard for your own and others' safety."
Dumbledore's blue eyes swept over the students before he smiled once more.
"But now, your beds await, as warm and comfortable as you could possibly wish, and I know that your top priority is to be well rested for your lessons tomorrow. Let us therefore say good night. Pip, pip!"
With the usual deafening scraping noise, the benches were moved back and the hundreds of students began to file out of the Great Hall toward their dormitories. Stella had a shield on her back and she was grateful for it as multiple Slytherins found it hilarious to shoot small jinxes at her and watch as they bounced off. She heard an angry mew and heard a few students scream before a weight landed on her shoulder.
Stella froze when she found Theo's cat, Jinx, on her shoulder. She let out a slow breath before reaching her hand up and scratching his chest before she continued through the dungeons. Someone gave the password ("Pureblood." "Most of us, anyway.") and Stella stepped into the common room. She looked around out of habit, searching for Blaise and Theo before she shook her head and moved to a corner with squishy arm chairs that she used to lay across Blaise and Theo on.
She took a seat, pulling Jinx into her lap and scratching behind his ears. He purred in her lap and Stella caught a glimpse of a fifth year girl glaring at her, a scratch across the back of her right hand. Stella guessed that the girl had tried sending a nastier hex at her and Jinx had decided that wouldn't do. Stella simply smirked and went back to the cat in her lap.
The first years stared at the lake in awe like they always did and Snape walked in, ready to give a speech before the fifth year ran over to him, the common room having already gone silent when Snape had entered the room.
"Sir! Black's cat attacked me!" she complained.
"Not my cat," Stella spoke up.
"Is that why it's purring in your lap?" one of the injured girl's friends asked.
"Jinx is Theo's cat," Stella stated, shutting the fifth years down rather quickly. "He must not have liked whatever hex you were trying to aim at my back."
"Enough," Snape said, his smooth voice not even raising as the room came to order.
Stella just stayed looking down at Jinx and petting him.
"Many of you will think it is a joke to attack your fellow housemate—" Snape spoke up.
"Oh, he's taking Black's side again. Show of hands: who's surprised?" a seventh year asked.
"Unless you would like a months' worth of detention with Filch, you will be quiet while I speak," Snape glared at the crowd. "As I was saying, we need to seem united more than ever this year. The Dark Lord has risen and many will try to attack you for it. They will not care about your names or your status. They will see your green and silver robes and they will not think twice. Attacking each other will make you easier targets, especially the younger students.
"I will remind you that the student you are so happy to attack was the one protecting all of you just last year. You lost a classmate at the end of last year and the other is still in critical condition. I know you are all angry and have questions. You will direct questions to me and not harass your fellow housemate. Do I make myself clear?"
"Yes, sir," people answered, some more reluctantly than others.
"We will not be having dueling club this year. There is too much to do. I still expect you to help the younger students when you can, though. Do not let them become prey to the other houses. You will all hold yourselves with respect and act accordingly. I know that you will be targeted and it will be difficult to behave yourselves in those situations. When it happens, do not let them win."
Snape passed Stella the Quidditch schedule and swept out of the room. Stella pulled a self-inking quill from her bag and began taking the best spots on the list, Harry's name being the next one to appear, the two racing to take as many spots as they could before the other. She drew a face blowing a raspberry at Harry's name, using her wand to animate it, before putting the schedule away. A sign-up sheet was on the board and it was empty except for Crabbe and Goyle's names, so she sought them out immediately.
"You two are first line. You don't need to tryout," she informed them before looking to Malfoy. "You still on the team?"
"No," he rolled his eyes.
"Good," she rolled her eyes back before moving on.
She carried Jinx to her dorm room, the other sixth year girls already there. They all quieted when she entered the room but she paid them no mind. She placed Jinx on her bed and reached into her trunk, pulling out sleep shorts and one of Blaise's sweaters. She got ready for bed in the loo, walking back into the room to hear the whispering coming to a stop again. She laid on her bed, Jinx laying on her chest and purring as she stared up at the ceiling, curtain open.
"Go ahead," she told them. "Ask."
"What happened?" Pansy asked, voice soft as she stared at Stella.
"Harry thought that Voldemort had my… had my dad. I couldn't reach him with my ring. We ended up in the Department of Mysteries but it was a trap set up by Lucius Malfoy and Bellatrix Lestrange. Dad and a few others showed up to save us… I wasn't there when Theo… Hermione was there with Theo but don't go asking her about it. Bellatrix was dueling Sirius and I went to help, Blaise chased after me, got stunned, fell into Dad, and they both fell through this… arch thing. They didn't come back out."
Stella's hands were shaking as she spoke. The edge of her bed dipped and Stella looked down to find Pansy sitting on the bed, eyes watching Stella knowingly.
"I'm so sorry, Stella," Pansy whispered.
Stella felt close to tears again but she refused to let anyone see.
"I'm tired," she lied before rolling to her side, facing away from everyone.
Jinx moved so he was lying beside her. Pansy stood from the bed and pulled the curtain closed around Stella's bed. There was a bit of whispering but eventually the girls fell asleep. It took a few hours, but Stella finally fell asleep as well, nightmares plaguing her dreams.
Far too soon, Pansy was shaking Stella's shoulder gently, waking her. Stella groaned as she stood, stretching before getting ready for classes. Harry still had her cloak so she walked out of the common room, heading towards the Great Hall and hoping he'd brought it down for her. The ceiling of the Great Hall was serenely blue and streaked with frail, wispy clouds, just like the squares of sky visible through the high mullioned windows. Harry hadn't arrived yet so Stella sat at the Slytherin table, surprise crossing her features when Pansy and Daphne sat on either side of her.
"Stop looking so shocked," Daphne told her. "They were our friends, too."
After everyone ate, schedules were passed around and Stella saw Neville talking to McGonagall. She rushed over to them quickly.
"Herbology, fine," McGonagall was saying. "Professor Sprout will be delighted to see you back with an 'Outstanding' O.W.L. And you qualify for Defense Against the Dark Arts with 'Exceeds Expectations.' But the problem is Transfiguration. I'm sorry, Longbottom, but an Acceptable' really isn't good enough to continue to N.E.W.T level. I just don't think you'd be able to cope with the coursework."
"I'll tutor him," Stella spoke up. "I'll work with him as much as needed to keep his grade up."
McGonagall shook her head.
"That is not how it works Miss Black," she said before looking to Neville again. "Why do you want to continue with Transfiguration, anyway? I've never had the impression that you particularly enjoyed it."
Neville looked miserable and muttered something about "my grandmother wants."
"Hmph," snorted Professor McGonagall. "It's high time your grandmother learned to be proud of the grandson she's got, rather than the one she thinks she ought to have — particularly after what happened at the Ministry."
Neville turned very pink and blinked confusedly; Professor McGonagall had never paid him a compliment before.
"I'm sorry, Longbottom, but I cannot let you into my N.E.W.T. class. I see that you have an 'Exceeds Expectations' in Charms, however — why not try for a N.E.W.T. in Charms?"
"My grandmother thinks Charms is a soft option," mumbled Neville.
"Take Charms," said Professor McGonagall, "and I shall drop Augusta a line reminding her that just because she failed her Charms O.W.L., the subject is not necessarily worthless."
Smiling slightly at the look of delighted incredulity on Neville's face, Professor McGonagall tapped a blank schedule with the tip of her wand and handed it back, now carrying details of his new classes, to Neville. Stella bumped Neville's arm gently with her own, giving him a smile.
"What are you doing here?" a snide voice asked and Stella turned to find a Gryffindor she didn't know glaring at her. "Slytherins shouldn't be over here. They should stay with the other Death Eaters."
"Here's your cloak, Stell," Harry interrupted, putting Stella's cloak on her shoulders and buttoning it for her. "Thanks for last night."
"Of course," Stella smiled at him. "I'm always up for saving 'The Chosen One'. Helps my ego."
"Because you need an ego boost," Ron rolled his eyes with a fond smile.
"Ouch," Stella joked. "Words hurt, brother."
"Wait," the rude underclassman spoke up. "Brother? And Harry Potter?"
"Yes," Stella rolled her eyes. "Run along, now. Don't you have a feather to float or a needle to turn into a matchstick?"
"What do you have first?" Harry asked her.
"I have to get to Ancient Runes," Stella sighed before kissing Harry's cheek and turning to run off. "See you later!"
Stella fell into a seat in Defense.
"What's wrong with you?" Ron asked.
"We got so much homework for Runes," she explained, groaning as she rested her head on Ron's shoulder. "A fifteen-inch essay, two translations, and reading. Luckily, I already did the reading."
"Shame," Ron yawned.
"I hope Snape gives only Gryffindors homework," Stella crossed her arms over her chest, sitting up now.
Snape had imposed his personality upon the room already; it was gloomier than usual, as curtains had been drawn over the windows, and was lit by candlelight. New pictures adorned the walls, many of them showing people who appeared to be in pain, sporting grisly injuries or strangely contorted body parts. Nobody spoke as they settled down, looking around at the shadowy, gruesome pictures.
"I have not asked you to take out your books," said Snape, closing the door and moving to face the class from behind his desk; Hermione hastily dropped her copy of Confronting the Faceless back into her bag and stowed it under her chair. "I wish to speak to you, and I want your fullest attention."
His black eyes roved over their upturned faces, lingering for a fraction of a second longer on Harry's than anyone else's. "You have had five teachers in this subject so far, I believe."
'Including your boyfriend,' Stella thought to herself, having to bite her lip to keep from smirking.
"Naturally, these teachers will all have had their own methods and priorities. Given this confusion I am surprised so many of you scraped an O.W.L. in this subject. I shall be even more surprised if all of you manage to keep up with the N.E.W.T. work, which will be much more advanced."
Snape set off around the edge of the room, speaking now in a lower voice; the class craned their necks to keep him in view.
"The Dark Arts," said Snape, "are many, varied, ever-changing, and eternal. Fighting them is like fighting a many-headed monster, which, each time a neck is severed, sprouts a head even fiercer and cleverer than before. You are fighting that which is unfixed, mutating, indestructible."
Stella made a note to write Uncle Moony and tell him how dramatic his boyfriend was.
"Your defenses," said Snape, a little louder, "must therefore be as flexible and inventive as the arts you seek to undo. These pictures" — he indicated a few of them as he swept past — "give a fair representation of what happens to those who suffer, for instance, the Cruciatus Curse" — he waved a hand toward a witch who was clearly shrieking in agony — "feel the Dementor's Kiss" — a wizard lying huddled and blank-eyed, slumped against a wall — "or provoke the aggression of the Inferius" — a bloody mass upon the ground.
"Has an Inferius been seen, then?" said Parvati Patil in a high pitched voice. "Is it definite, is he using them?"
"The Dark Lord has used Inferi in the past," said Snape, "which means you would be well-advised to assume he might use them again. Now . . ." He set off again around the other side of the classroom toward his desk, and again, they watched him as he walked, his dark robes billowing behind him. ". . . you are, I believe, complete novices in the use of nonverbal spells. What is the advantage of a nonverbal spell?"
Stella and Hermione both raised their hands. No one was surprised when Snape called on Stella.
"It takes less time to think a spell than say it. It also means that your opponent won't know for sure what you're shooting at them," Stella stated.
"Ten points to Slytherin," Snape nodded, again to no one's surprise. "Not all wizards can do this, of course; it is a question of concentration and mind power which some" — his gaze lingered maliciously upon Harry once more — "lack.
"You will now divide," Snape went on, "into pairs. One partner will attempt to jinx the other without speaking. The other will attempt to repel the jinx in equal silence. Carry on."
Stella grabbed Neville immediately. He whispered a disarming spell and Stella blocked it without a single word uttered, already having mastered nonverbal magic.
"Twenty points to Slytherin, Miss Black," Snape said as he strode through the room and Stella smirked before shrugging to Neville when he stared at her in awe.
She approached Neville rather than standing across from him.
"So, what you'll want to do it think the spell very loudly as you do the movements. It's just like doing it verbally but it takes a bit more concentration," Stella explained.
"I'm already concentrating, Stella," Neville complained.
"You can do this, Nev," Stella told him. "It'll take time and practice, but I know you can do it."
"Miss Black, pair with Miss Granger. Maybe the two of you will be on even footing for once," Snape commanded, sounding rather bored.
Stella and Hermione smirked at one another. That was as close to a compliment Hermione was ever going to get from Snape, holding her at the same standards as his favorite student. Before they could actually start though, Snape rounded on Harry and Ron, who was purple in the face trying to jinx Harry without speaking.
"Pathetic, Weasley," said Snape. "Here — let me show you —"
He turned his wand on Harry so fast that Harry reacted instinctively; all thought of nonverbal spells forgotten, he yelled, "Protego!"
His Shield Charm was so strong that Snape was knocked off-balance and hit a desk. The whole class had looked around and now watched as Snape righted himself, scowling.
"Do you remember me telling you we are practicing nonverbal spells, Potter?"
"Yes," said Harry stiffly.
"Yes, sir."
"There's no need to call me 'sir,' Professor."
The words had escaped him before he knew what he was saying. Several people gasped, including Hermione. Behind Snape, however, Ron, Dean, and Seamus grinned appreciatively. Stella had to bite her lip hard and look away to keep from laughing, though she caught Harry's smirk at her reaction.
"Detention, Saturday night, my office," said Snape. "I do not take cheek from anyone, Potter . . . not even 'the Chosen One.' "
"He takes it from you all the time," Hermione complained.
"Yeah, but I'm me," Stella shrugged. "Shall we?"
"Ooh, yes!" Hermione was excited now as they turned to face one another.
Hermione shot a Jelly-Legs jinx at Stella and she flicked it away like it was simply a pesty bug. She tried disarming Hermione, but the spell simply bounced off her shield. They kept shooting spells back and forth and both of their competitive sides were coming out. Soon the two were straight up dueling, moving around each other. Stella had turned Hermione's knee backwards at some point but Hermione was tough and she kept moving around, having almost set Stella's robe on fire at one point. The whole class had stopped and was watching as they silently fought, Snape's brow raised.
Stella was playing with Hermione, knowing she could end it fairly easily but, for the first time in a while, Stella was actually enjoying herself. She smiled and Hermione seemed annoyed by it.
"Impedimenta," Hermione said out loud and Stella stepped out of the way of the spell.
"Stupefy," Stella said but actually cast an Incarcerous.
Black robes wrapped around Hermione and she gasped as Seamus caught her.
"Twenty more points for Slytherin," Snape stated. "Another upside to nonverbal casting is that you can trick your opponent into thinking that you're casting a harmless spell when you actually have a darker one flying towards them."
"We should do that more often," Stella told Hermione as she released her from the ropes. "That was actually quite fun."
"Fun?" Hermione asked. "That was fun for you?"
"Well, yeah," Stella shrugged. "Come on, Hermione. You at least had a little bit of fun, didn't you?"
"… It was nice having someone to duel with," Hermione admitted after a moment.
"Mhmm," Stella nodded as they all left the classroom.
"That was brilliant, Harry!" chortled Ron, once they were safely on their way to break a short while later.
"You really shouldn't have said it," said Hermione, frowning at Harry. "What made you?"
"He tried to jinx me, in case you didn't notice!" fumed Harry. "I had enough of that during those Occlumency lessons! Why doesn't he use another guinea pig for a change? What's Dumbledore playing at, anyway, letting him teach Defense? Did you hear him talking about the Dark Arts? He loves them! All that unfixed, indestructible stuff —"
"Well," said Hermione, "I thought he sounded a bit like you."
"Like me?"
"Yes, when you were telling us what it's like to face Voldemort. You said it wasn't just memorizing a bunch of spells, you said it was just you and your brains and your guts — well, wasn't that what Snape was saying? That it really comes down to being brave and quick-thinking?"
"I'll see you all later," Stella sighed as Pansy grabbed Stella's arm and pulling her away.
"Since when are they friends?" Stella heard Ron ask but Stella had already been pulled along towards the dungeons.
"You have potions, yes?" Pansy asked.
"Yeah," Stella nodded.
"It's just us and Draco, then," Pansy told her. "He isn't actually speaking to anyone lately, though, so you're partnering with me."
"Alright then," Stella nodded.
The dungeon door opened and Slughorn's belly proceeded him out the door. Stella had completely forgotten that he would be teaching this class and was no longer looking forward to it. He greeted Stella and Harry with particular enthusiasm and Stella wanted to hide behind Pansy to escape him.
The dungeon was, most unusually, already full of vapors and odd smells. Stella and Pansy took a table at the front, Draco sitting on Stella's right, to which she gave a strange look before shrugging. The four Ravenclaws sat together and Harry, Ron, and Hermione sat with the only Hufflepuff, Ernie. Stella smelt something in the air that was woodsy like a broom, musky like Theo and Blaise's colognes, honeysuckle from the Burrow, and, for some reason, Harry. The cologne's made her breath catch and she looked around the room, eyes wide as Pansy and Draco watched her in confusion. Her eyes landed on the Amortentia and she scrawled.
"What is that smell?" Pansy asked, sinking in her seat a bit as Slughorn passed them.
"Amortentia," Stella growled out, teeth grinding together.
"Correct, Miss Black!" Slughorn smiled brightly. "Can you tell me what Amortentia is?"
Everyone was staring at her now and Stella, for once, did not want to answer a potions question.
"It's classified as a love potion," she said slowly.
"Very good! I'm guessing you recognized it, I suppose, by its distinctive mother-of-pearl sheen?"
"And the steam rising out in spirals and the smell…"
"What do you smell?" he asked curiously.
Stella didn't want to answer a potion's question for the first time ever but Slughorn had already called her out.
"Honeysuckle, my broom, a cologne, and…"
"And?"
"And nothing," Stella shook her head, eyes darting to Harry for a second and causing his eyes to widen as if he understood what she wasn't saying.
"Ten points to Slytherin! Now then, now then, now then," said Slughorn, whose massive outline was quivering through the many shimmering vapors. "Scales out, everyone, and potion kits, and don't forget your copies of Advanced Potion-Making. . . ."
"Sir?" said Harry, raising his hand.
"Harry, m'boy?"
"I haven't got a book or scales or anything — nor's Ron — we didn't realize we'd be able to do the N.E.W.T., you see —"
"Ah, yes, Professor McGonagall did mention . . . not to worry, my dear boy, not to worry at all. You can use ingredients from the store cupboard today, and I'm sure we can lend you some scales, and we've got a small stock of old books here, they'll do until you can write to Flourish and Blotts. . . ."
Slughorn strode over to a corner cupboard and, after a moment's foraging, emerged with two very battered-looking copies of Advanced Potion-Making by Libatius Borage, which he gave to Harry and Ron along with two sets of tarnished scales.
"Now then," said Slughorn, returning to the front of the class and inflating his already bulging chest so that the buttons on his waistcoat threatened to burst off, "As you've noticed, I've prepared a few potions for you to have a look at, just out of interest, you know. These are the kind of thing you ought to be able to make after completing your N.E.W.T.s. You ought to have heard of 'em, even if you haven't made 'em yet. Anyone tell me what this one is?"
He indicated the cauldron nearest the Slytherin table. Hermione raised her hand and Stella leaned back in her seat, not wanting to answer questions anymore.
"It's Veritaserum, a colorless, odorless potion that forces the drinker to tell the truth," said Hermione.
"Very good, very good!" said Slughorn happily. "Now," he continued, pointing at the cauldron nearest the Ravenclaw table, "this one here is pretty well known. . . . Featured in a few Ministry leaflets lately too . . . Who can — ?"
Hermione again.
"It's Polyjuice Potion, sir," she said.
"May I ask your name, my dear?" Slughorn asked.
"Hermione Granger, sir."
"Granger? Granger? Can you possibly be related to Hector Dagworth-Granger, who founded the Most Extraordinary Society of Potioneers?"
"No, I don't think so, sir. I'm Muggleborn, you see."
"Oho! 'One of our best friends is Muggleborn, and she's top two in our year!' I'm assuming this is the very friend of whom you both spoke of, Harry, Stella?"
"Yes, sir," they answered together.
"Well, well, take twenty well-earned points for Gryffindor, Miss Granger," said Slughorn genially. "And now it is time for us to start work."
Stella raised her hand and everyone looked to her.
"Yes, Miss Black?"
"You didn't ask us about the Felix Felicis," she pointed out.
"Oho," Slughorn smiled and Stella got the idea that it was on purpose. "Yes. I'm assuming you know what it does?"
"It's liquid luck. I believe it's two tablespoons for a full days' worth? If taken too often it can cause extremely reckless behavior."
"Correct, Miss Black! Ten points!" Slughorn looked dreamily at the cauldron. "And that is what I shall be offering as a prize in this lesson."
There was silence in which every bubble and gurgle of the surrounding potions seemed magnified tenfold.
"One tiny bottle of Felix Felicis," said Slughorn, taking a minuscule glass bottle with a cork in it out of his pocket and showing it to them all. "Enough for twelve hours' luck. From dawn till dusk, you will be lucky in everything you attempt.
"Now, I must give you warning that Felix Felicis is a banned substance in organized competitions . . . sporting events, for instance, examinations, or elections. So the winner is to use it on an ordinary day only . . . and watch how that ordinary day becomes extraordinary!
"So," said Slughorn, suddenly brisk, "how are you to win my fabulous prize? Well, by turning to page ten of Advanced Potion Making. We have a little over an hour left to us, which should be time for you to make a decent attempt at the Draught of Living Death. I know it is more complex than anything you have attempted before, and I do not expect a perfect potion from anybody. The person who does best, however, will win little Felix here. Off you go!"
Stella didn't even open her book. She knew the best ways to make Draught of Living Death. Snape had tutored her over the summer and she realized then that he must have known he would be teaching Defense before Slughorn had even been asked to return.
Stella cut her roots thinly then crushed her sopophorous bean with the flat end of her knife.
"Sir, I think you knew my grandfather, Abraxas Malfoy?"
Stella glanced up but continued working.
"Yes," said Slughorn, without looking at Malfoy, "I was sorry to hear he had died, although of course it wasn't unexpected, dragon pox at his age. . . ."
Her potion was lilac and she began the stirring patterns, adding a clockwise stir every seventh turn, causing the potion to turn pale pink. Stella's potion was done and she raised her hand, Slughorn walking over and smiling down at it.
"And without even cracking open your book!" he said excitedly. "Well done! Time's up all!"
Stella looked over and saw Harry's potions which was the same color as hers. Her eyes widened and she looked to Harry, giving him a proud smile.
"Well, Mister Potter, your potion is also perfect. Did you use your book?"
"Yes, sir," Harry admitted.
"I believe the clear winner is Miss Black then! Twenty points to Gryffindor for your potion though, Mister Potter."
Stella took the vial, smiling proudly. She couldn't wait to tell Snape and see his shocked face when she told him Harry had made a perfect potion as well. Stella could have skipped out of the room as she headed to Snape's office for her detention, potion still in her pocket as she didn't trust the other Slytherins to not steal it.
"Hello, sir," Stella smiled ruefully. "I have a story for you and you're going to hate it… Oh!"
"Stella!" Remus yelled, face red as he and Snape jumped apart.
"Uncle Moony," Stella smirked. "When did you get here?"
"A few minutes ago," he shrugged, scratching the back of his head and unable to look in her eyes.
"Mhmm," she hummed before looking to Snape to find him with more color on his face than she'd ever seen before. "My detention?"
"We can forget this one," Snape stated and Stella let out a loud laugh, causing Snape to glare at her.
"Uh huh," she nodded, still chuckling slightly. "Sure, sir. See you tomorrow."
Stella went up to Gryffindor tower, checking the map for the password before walking in. Harry, Ron, and Hermione were by the fire, Hermione looking rather put out. Stella fell backwards over the couch, upside down between Harry and Ron.
"Hello, all," she smiled before handing the potion to Harry. "Here. For your first perfect potion."
"He didn't earn it," Hermione scoffed. "I doubt you did, either."
"Are you still mad that I'm better at potions than you?" Stella rolled her eyes.
"Stella, are you sure?" Harry asked, eyes wide.
"Of course," she nodded.
"His potions book is covered in notes!" Hermione complained.
"So are all of Ginny's," Stella shrugged. "She gets all of my books. It's part of why she's top of her class. That and, well, Gin is just brilliant."
"Here," Harry said, passing the book to her. "Hermione is convinced it's evil."
"Specialis Revelio," Stella cast.
"I did that already," Hermione complained.
Stella opened the book and smirked at the handwriting. Harry would not be using this book if he knew.
"Can I make a copy of this?" Stella asked. "I can look through the copy and tell you if there's anything you shouldn't do. Will that make you feel better, Mione?"
"… yes it would."
"Harry?"
"Go for it."
Stella made a copy and passed Harry the original back. She'd do as she said she would but she felt rather accomplished. Two things to make fun of Snape with within a few hours of each other? Dreams really did come true.
Stella ran to Defense early, letting herself in, much to Snape's annoyance.
"I didn't get to congratulate you yet, sir," she told him, catching her breath.
"And you had to run in here to do that?"
"That and to tell you things you aren't going to like," she shrugged.
Snape sighed and waved at Stella, telling her to proceed.
"Harry is suddenly great as potions. Almost as good as me, in fact."
"What?" Snape asked, confused.
"Well, you see sir, Harry didn't have a potions book because he didn't think he'd be able to take the subject. Slughorn takes Exceeds Expectations students, though. He and Ron were given old books to use until their new ones come in. Turns out a student left their book behind like twenty years ago and they were exemplary potions student. Whole thing is covered in notes and useful tips. The hand writing just looks so familiar…"
"Damn it!" Snape cursed, catching on.
"Sir!" Stella laughed. "Language!"
"He has my old book?"
"Has no clue it's yours," Stella told him. "If he did, I doubt he'd continue to use it."
Snape let out an annoyed groan and rubbed his face harshly.
"May I use one of my questions, sir?"
"Might as well."
"The Half-Blood Prince? Really, sir? Bit full of yourself there," Stella smirked.
"Detention."
"That's against the rules," Stella pointed out.
"Fine," he said through grit teeth. "My mother's maiden name was Prince."
"Was?" Stella asked, her smile falling away.
"She died when I was in my sixth year…"
"I'm sorry, sir…"
Students began filing into the classroom and Stella went to her seat, her and Snape both pretending that they didn't share the loss of parents in common.