Mom receives two bunches of lilies, one large and one small, every Christmas. You might think the large bunch is from Dad and the small one is from me, but it's exactly the opposite. I'm the one who gives the large bunch. I've spent years carefully studying that small bunch of lilies Dad gives. Last year, I even secretly took one from it and brought it to my room to study until the flower completely withered, yet I still couldn't figure out what method Dad used to make them give off such a wonderful fragrance.
Dad seems like a man who has nothing to do with romance. In Potions class, what he hates the most are those fancy and useless tools with elaborate decorations. After all, Potions is a magic subject that values practicality above all else, at least that's what we all think. The methods written in the books are definitely not wrong, but they may not be the simplest. I digress. Anyway, my father, Severus Snape, probably has only a tiny bit of romantic quota each year, and almost all of it is in this small bunch of perfume lilies at Christmas.
However, I didn't have a very pleasant time during Christmas Eve and the rest of the Christmas holiday, especially after Mom mentioned that someone had spotted Wormtail on the edge of the forest in Albania. She said that after negotiations by the International Magical Cooperation Department, the Auror Office has been allowed to conduct cross-border pursuits of Wormtail, and she is likely to be assigned to participate.
"Why are you being sent?" Dad's tone was far from pleasant.
"Of course it's because I'm suitable for this mission, Sev. There aren't many wizards in the Auror team who are familiar with Wormtail."
"So you'll be going with Potter?" Dad was sitting on the sofa, as if he was about to blend in with the entire black sofa.
"I'm going to my room," I mumbled, standing up and heading upstairs. "Good night. Merry Christmas."
"Sev, I can't – we can't keep arguing about one thing forever –" Mom's voice came from behind me.
I don't want Mom to go to the Albanian forest, not because Mr. Potter will be going with her – I'm sure Dad is just using this as an excuse to try to stop her from getting too close to danger. Mom is a brave and excellent witch, but Wormtail is the servant of the Dark Lord. His presence in the Albanian forest probably means there's something left behind by the Dark Lord there. Whatever it is, it must be extremely dangerous dark magic. Although Mom would say it's her duty and someone has to face the danger, I'm a selfish little girl. I want her to be safe first, just like she promised me that she would always be by my side.
To be honest, this has nothing to do with Harry Potter, but I still felt a unexplained anger well up in my chest when I saw him back at school. When almost all the Gryffindors rushed to the middle of the common room to see the new Firebolts that he and Taurus Black had gotten, my anger reached its peak after being interrupted five times in my Transfiguration practice by the commotion.
"I just don't get it. They're just two old brooms!" Miss Granger was equally angry. She had taken all the courses this semester (I don't know how she managed to do that. I'm sure I had Arithmancy with her, but I heard from Miss Brown that she was arguing with Professor Trelawney in Divination class at the same time). Piles of books were spread out in front of her, almost burying her.
"Come on, Hermione," Ron Weasley heard her and turned around to say to her, "This is the fastest broomstick in the world – we're definitely going to win this year!!"
The Gryffindor common room erupted into a burst of enthusiastic cheering, as if Potter and Black had already brought back the Quidditch Cup. Miss Granger, with a dark face, swept all the textbooks in front of her into her schoolbag looking as if it was about to burst and climbed out of the hole leading to the common room.
I was left alone in the corner, struggling with the beetle in the bottle. I really wished I had learned the spell to block out all sounds for a while.
Naturally, after a whole night, I hadn't managed to turn the beetle into a button even once, not even a crawling button. When I finally rubbed my sore eyes and massaged my knees, getting ready to stand up from the chair, I realized that most people had already left. Only Potter and his friends was still examining those two stupid broomsticks. (Miss Granger was right! They were just two stupid broomsticks!)
"Iris... er, Miss Snape?" Potter called out to me just as I was yawning and about to return to the dormitory.
I turned around, folded my arms, and looked at him, feeling quite puzzled. "What do you want, Potter?"
"Well, I wanted to say -" He nervously ran his hand through his hair, the one that wasn't holding the broomstick.
I waited for him to speak with my last bit of patience.
"Never mind - hey, did you have a good Christmas?" Of all the topics he could choose from, he had to bring up the one I least wanted to talk about.
"Not particularly. Thanks for asking," I gave him a fierce glare and then turned around and entered the girls' dormitory.
"Iris, is this your Christmas present? It's so beautiful. Who gave it to you? It looks so delicate, like the handcarft of the goblins!" I stormed into the dormitory, planning to lie on the bed and zone out. Without asking for my permission, Parvati Patil picked up the hairpin I had just taken out of my hair.
"Oh, my mom gave it to me," I hesitated for a moment. Mom had told me that it was a Christmas gift given to me by "her friend" who wrote her the letter and asked her to pass it on. But I thought she was just making an excuse for Professor Lupin, who had written to her. I didn't have such a close friend around me.
I really liked this hairpin. Just as Patil said, the gemstones on it were as beautiful as a cat's eyes in the night, and they were close to the color of my pupils. Hardly any girl could resist beautiful accessories, and I was no exception. It immediately replaced the plain checked clip as my most frequently worn hair accessory.
Every morning had become a time I both eagerly anticipated and dreaded. Owls swooped in from outside, pelting students with a rain of letters and packages. I would crane my neck, waiting for The Daily Prophet， hoping that the front page would carry the news of Wormtail's capture, yet fearing to see unfavorable reports about the Albanian Forest.
"No news yet." Miss Granger's owl arrived before mine. She leaned across the table, which was piled high with milk, bread, and syrup pies, and said to me, "Relax. You look like you've been up for several nights in a row."
It was hard to tell whose dark circles were more pronounced between us. I suspected that if it weren't against the school rules, Miss Granger would live in the library forever. I couldn't imagine how she managed to complete all the assignments for every course perfectly. Her workload was probably two to three times that of mine, and I had already been directly warned by Professor McGonagall just for being absent-minded.
I slouched in the corner of the common room, doing the extra homework Professor McGonagall had assigned me. After class, she had expressed her concerns about my final exams and mentioned my poor performance in Charm classes.
Dad showed his irritation in a more subtle way. He deducted thirty points from Gryffindor because Potter and Black were discussing Quidditch during Potions class, and he punished them by making them go to Mr. Filch every evening for a week to polish the trophies. This had led to an outburst of rage among the Gryffindors.
The Quidditch match between Gryffindor and Ravenclaw was about to start. In the previous match between Gryffindor and Hufflepuff, Potter had accidentally fallen off his broom due to the interference of Dementors, causing the score to fall behind. If Gryffindor wanted to win the Quidditch Cup, they had to win this match. Dad's detention punishment for Potter and Black had made Wood, the Gryffindor Quidditch captain, extremely angry. I was certain that every time he saw me, he was trying his hardest to hold back from saying anything offensive.
I really couldn't understand boys' fanaticism for Quidditch. After Miss Granger and Ron Weasley had a heated debate over "Quidditch isn't just a game, Hermione. It's a competition! It's about glory!", I decided not to voice any opinions on this matter anymore. It was already strange that I wasn't left out this time.
Even the gossip topics in the girls' dormitory revolved around Quidditch. The girls were discussing how Cho Chang from Ravenclaw seemed to be getting quite close to the Hufflepuff Quidditch captain. They rarely asked for my opinion, and I said that I couldn't put faces to the two names they mentioned.
"Cedric!! Cedric Diggory from Hufflepuff!" Patil jumped up from her bed, like she just heard the news that I failed in Potions: "It's fine if you don't know Cho Chang, but Diggory is the most handsome guy in the whole school --"
"I still think Taurus Black is better-looking," Miss Brown pouted. "Give it up, Lavender. You've already sent him five love letters."
I found it noisy. Girls chattering in shrill voices about unfounded rumors, playfully shoving each other, half - joking and half - serious. These were pleasures I had never experienced, nor did I envy them much.
Still, out of curiosity, I asked Draco if he knew Cedric and could point him out to me. I soon regretted it because he rolled his eyes at me and showed a very disgusted expression.
"Why are you interested in that guy again?" He took my Potions homework and started comparing it with his.
"I'm not interested," I shrugged. "I just heard them talking about him and realized I didn't know who he was."
In the end, he didn't point out who Diggory was for me. As the Seeker of Slytherin, Draco was even more fanatical about Quidditch than others. The detention of Potter and Black made Slytherin delighted. I still remember that when the Christmas holiday ended and we heard that Potter and Black had got a Firebolt, Draco's face turned as dark as if it could drip ink. This meant that his Nimbus 2001 was no longer the fastest broomstick in Hogwarts. So they were eager for Ravenclaw to defeat Gryffindor in one go this time. That way, they would most likely win the Quidditch Cup again.
"I wish your dad could have punished them until the end of the month," Draco said to me with a smile. "I really hope Potter does something stupid again."
I didn't quite like his way of speaking - it was as if he was saying that my dad had detained Potter and Black on purpose for the sake of the Quidditch Cup. Dad wasn't that kind of person. I hesitated for a moment, and finally I asked him, "Draco, did you write a letter to my mom?"
"Why would I write to a - I mean, why would I write to your mom?" He was still immersed in the fantasy of Potter completely missing the Quidditch match and answered casually.
I tried my best not to think about the word he almost blurted out and then swallowed back. I just simply replied, "I see," and then lowered my head to continue prodding the crawling beetle with my wand.
"Another class of that big oaf," he didn't care why I asked that. He glanced at the restless big book in his schoolbag. "I really wish Dad could make him disappear from Hogwarts immediately. A wild man can be a professor. My mom almost fainted when she heard the news. What weird thing do you think he'll show us today?"