XXVI: Keep It in the Family

Chapter XXVI: Keep It in the Family

Charis stood on top of the Astronomy Tower, watching the sky changing into shades of deep blue as the sun disappeared over the mountain tops and the stars gradually appeared, twinkling like jewels, as the darkness fell.

It had surprised her no end when she had first found out that Astronomy was taught as a subject at Hogwarts, being as it was a popular science within the Muggle world. But the more she studied, the more she realised that here in the Wizarding world Astronomy was deeply linked with divination, Astrology and symbolism. The Wizarding version of Astronomy tapped in to the divinatory aspects Charis enjoyed and also complemented her Arithmancy lessons. Plus, Professor Sinistra was kind and beautiful, and Charis very much looked up to her graceful teacher. And Professor Flitwick had agreed that she could take Astronomy as an additional NEWT due to her high grade at OWL level and her natural ability and love for the subject.

She let her eyes flit across the sky. There was Ursa Major, and just beside it, she noticed with a shudder, Draco. She gazed at the constellation's brightest star, Eltanin, wondering how such a foul creature as Malfoy had come to share a name with one of the oldest constellations ever to have been defined.

When the Ancient Egyptians first cast their eyes to the heavens and noted the stars of Eltanin, Rastaban and Thuban and placed them within the constellation, little had they known that thousands of years later, a jumped up, inbred little shit would irrevocably tarnish the name, she thought with a snort.

Charis felt her stomach grow tight at the very thought of that particular Slytherin. There was no denying that he was one of the kingpins behind all the poison that was being spread within his House at the moment.

But as much as his incessant name-calling and jeering hurt Charis, he could not shake her pride in being Muggle-born. It seemed to her as if Draco was threatened somehow, as if all that he placed as being so important meant nothing if a mere Mudblood such as herself could also possess the same powers that he did. This would certainly explain his hostility. Still, his way of walking around like he was better than everyone else and like he owned the place angered Charis no end. If only he knew that daddy dearest had been fucking her best – no, she reminded herself – her former best friend and was now the father of her unborn child.

At that thought, Charis' stomach clenched yet further. She missed her best friend, and her absence still felt raw and sharp, especially now Severus had dumped her like a broken quill. It was difficult to believe that, just six short months ago, life had been so different. Oh, if only she had a Time-Turner! Charis would have done anything to be able to go back and never get involved with Severus. Maybe, she would have never hooked up with Zabini. Maybe, she and Morgana would still be friends. And certainly, her heart would not be broken.

Charis felt hot tears sting her cheeks as she blinked up at Venus. The goddess of love, she thought with a sob. That was all she wanted, to be loved. And yet, all she got was sex.

'You deserve more,' Severus had said.

But that had felt so hollow when he had left her, alone and crying, in Firenze's classroom. Charis thought that what he had really been saying was, 'You are good enough for sex, but I will never love you, because you are a slut and not worthy of such love.'

She squeezed her eyes shut and gripped on tightly to the handrail as yet more tears began to fall. She felt so stupid. She was supposed to be a Ravenclaw! Chosen for her keen mind. Her keen mind, it seemed, however, could not control her pathetic heart, no matter how many O's she achieved.

She swallowed dryly, trying to get rid of the burning lump of sorrow lodged in her throat. It was all such a mess – the situation with Snape, her continued humiliation from the Slytherins, the fight with Morgana, Morgana's baby. It all seemed so overwhelming, like a nightmare she could not wake up from. And no amount of Ravenclaw logic could solve these problems or make them better.

And for the first time since she had come to Hogwarts, Charis realised with a shudder that she did not want to be there. She wished she could run far, far away, to a place where there was no Morgana Belakane, no Draco Malfoy and no Severus Snape. Maybe her life would be easier if she stayed where she belonged: with Muggles. With Mudbloods.

* * *

The following evening, Jack had managed to coax Charis to the library for more research into her family history. She found Jack's project a welcome distraction from dwelling on thoughts of Morgana and Snape. It felt good to be able concentrate on something other than what a mess her life was in at the moment. And Jack was fun company and helped to keep her spirits up.

Explorations on her mother's side had yielded no surprises, much to Charis' disappointment. She had hoped to find some link to the Wizarding world through her maternal lineage because that side of her family had resided in and around what was formerly known as the Vale of Avalon, and logically she supposed there could have been some connection there. She was excited by the idea that her ancestors could have been traced to the times of Merlin.

However, the investigations seemed to stop at her great-great grandparents on her mother's side, as the trail went dead. Charis remembered her mother once telling her that they had Welsh ancestry on her side of the family, and Charis supposed that was why they had reached a dead end. But Jack had also told her that he had expected to find a magical link within four generations anyway, and the fact they had yielded nothing so far meant they were barking up the wrong tree.

'Don't be down-hearted,' Jack told her, noticing her sigh of frustration as he returned yet another record back on the shelf. 'We still have your father's line to trace.'

Charis looked at him forlornly. 'What if we don't find anything there either? What will that mean?'

'We'll cross that bridge when we come to it. But I am ninety-nine percent sure something will come up on your father's side, Charis.'

He sat down next to her, a gentle smile on his face.

'Think of it like this. Your pretty green eyes are a bit of a lottery in terms of genetics. The gene for green eyes is recessive, and the gene for brown is dominant. You need two sets of genes, one from each parent, to determine your eye colour. So, both of your parents carried the recessive gene for green eyes but they only had a one in four chance of having a baby with green eyes. You got lucky, Charis.'

He smiled at her again, and Charis could not help but smile back at her friend. He really was a sweetheart.

'So what I am trying to say is, because the gene for green eyes is recessive, it might not have appeared in your family for generations. And I think the same might be true for magic. If my theory is right, it looks like you got lucky on both counts, kitten.'

'I hope so, Jack, I really do. My dad's parents died before I was born, and Dad doesn't like talking about them much, so I really don't know what we'll be able to find on his side.'

'Well, that makes it even more exciting, doesn't it?' Jack replied, his eyes twinkling in response.

And so, with a renewed sense of vigour, the two friends began poring through more parchments, finding a huge stack of wedding and birth certificates to wade through.

They had been working for only twenty minutes or so, when a familiar drawl interrupted them and made their heads snap up from the table.

'Well, well, Byrne,' Draco Malfoy sneered, his steely blue eyes glittering menacingly. 'Looking into your family tree, are you? Or should I say family weeds. I don't know what you are expecting to find. There's nothing but filth and Muggle scum in there, Mudblood.'

Charis flinched, but Jack instinctively stood up for his friend.

'Is there something you wanted, Malfoy? Or are you just going to bore us to death again with how great you purebloods are, despite all the evidence to the contrary?'

Charis felt a flash of affection for her friend for sticking up for her as Draco merely raised his eyebrow in response.

'I have no idea why you are hanging around with this filthy Mudblood, Morrissey, unless it's to get into those loose knickers of hers. I wouldn't touch her with somebody else's broomstick, personally, but there is no accounting for taste after all.'

'Watch it, Malfoy,' Jack growled, but Draco was on a roll now.

'Surely you've noticed that even Belakane has finally come to her senses and decided to stick to those of her own kind instead of hanging around with scum like her. You should follow her example, Morrissey, unless you want to be branded a blood traitor.'

Jack was about to launch himself at Malfoy in anger, but before he could, Charis was already fleeing the library in tears, her hands clasped over her mouth. So Jack stood slowly, looking Malfoy straight in the eyes.

'You don't scare me, Malfoy. As far as I'm concerned, there's only one person around here with bad blood, and that's you, you inbred little shit.' Jack was shaking, but his voice was surprisingly calm, not betraying the white-hot rage that was bubbling inside him. 'If you ever speak to Charis like that again, you will find that the precious Malfoy line might just be ending sooner than you think.'

And with that, Jack flew out of the library after his housemate, leaving Draco feeling rather amused.

Ah, so they're definitely shagging, then, he thought to himself. Little slut must be good in bed to provoke such a reaction from him.

He slowly walked around the desk, poking at the parchments that were littered across it with his wand. Birth certificates, marriage certificates, and articles from newspapers were piled up high. Draco snorted to himself. What Byrne was expecting to find was anyone's guess. It was pretty obvious she was a Muggle-born and of no notable stock.

Draco was about to shove all of the parchments gracelessly on to the floor and leave, when something caught his eye: a newspaper article, poking out from the pile. And the name he saw turned his insides to ice.

... are proud to announce the marriage of Callista Black, 28, to George Byrne, 31, on 26th June 1950.

Black? Draco felt a rush of panic swelling in his chest. His mother's maiden name was Black. They were one of the oldest, most respected families in Wizarding society. Surely, they could not be related ...

With the rush of adrenaline only blind panic can bring, Draco feverishly pored over the stack of birth certificates until he found what he was looking for.

Name: Black, Callista

Father: Black, Marius

Marius Black? Now that name rang a bell. Draco thought hard. Where had he heard that name before? It was familiar but he couldn't place it. He rapped his fingers impatiently on the desk as he thought back to any conversations his mother or Aunt Bella may have had. But he couldn't think of anything. In fact, there was no time to think at all. It was ten minutes to curfew.

Draco stood, grabbing both the newspaper article and birth certificate and stuffed them inside his robes, planning on taking them straight to his mother and father as soon as possible. If the Mudblood really was related to the ancient House of Black, it would stir up a hornet's nest of unimaginable magnitude. He could not have his family's position jeopardised by such a revelation.

The nosey Ravenclaws would need to be silenced once and for all.

* * *

'You are not going to hide in your dormitory,' Jack said in a firm voice as he caught up with Charis in the empty Ravenclaw common room.

'Please, Jack,' Charis sobbed. 'I don't want ... I can't ...'

'You don't want me to see you cry but you cannot stop?' Jack asked. 'Well, tough luck, Charis Byrne. You are my best friend, and I am not going to let you cry your eyes out behind the closed curtains of your bed.'

Charis wiped her eyes with her sleeve, and before she knew it, Jack had taken her into his arms and was cradling her head against his chest, making soft hushing noises. And she wrapped her arms around his waist and let the tears run freely.

'You should not listen to Malfoy, you know,' Jack pointed out, stroking Charis' hair. 'He is dumb even for someone whose parents are probably related. He has no idea what he is talking about.'

'But he is right, Jack. I am a Mudblood. I ...'

'We do not know that yet,' Jack stated firmly. 'And even if you are, if you are one hundred percent Muggle, what does it matter? You are smart. You are funny, charming, cute. And you are one of the best witches in your year. And what has that pureblood Malfoy to show for? An ugly haircut and bad grades that kept him from getting a new broom for Christmas.'

Jack's comment made Charis giggle, and Jack cupped her chin and made her look up at him. 'Never ever let that inbred little shithead badmouth you again, Charis. His blood status does not make him a good person. Quite the contrary, actually. He is foul and cruel, and frankly I think that he is jealous.'

'Jealous?' Charis frowned. 'Jealous of what?'

'Oh, there are many things,' Jack started. 'But most of all, I think it bugs the hell out of him that Muggle-borns like you can succeed in the Wizarding world, the world which he thinks that he owns due to his blood status. But even he will one day have to accept the fact that he isn't worth slug slime without his daddy's name and money. You, on the other hand, Charis, you will forge your own career. And I bet you ten Galleons here and now, that you will have your own Chocolate Frog card in fifty years.'

Now Charis laughed. 'My own Chocolate Frog card? You are delirious, Jack.'

'Ten Galleons,' he said and reached out his hand. 'Dare you take the bet?'

They shook hands on it, and Jack smiled. 'And next time Malfoy opens his big mouth, I will personally see to that he closes it again.'

Once more, Charis smiled. And in her head formed a plan on just how she would show Draco Malfoy that his comments could not hurt her anymore.

* * *

Morgana swore under her breath as she caught sight of Charis in the Great Hall. The rumours she had heard in the Slytherin common room had been true then: Charis was really wearing a Muggle t-shirt with the word MUDBLOOD written over her chest in flashing gold letters. What by Merlin's crotch was she trying to achieve?

Morgana took a deep breath and started walking. She had not talked to Charis in weeks, and their last words had been spoken in anger, but she still cared deeply for the Ravenclaw girl. She could not let her walk with that t-shirt through the Great Hall for everyone to see, especially not certain Slytherins. Flashing that word for Draco Malfoy, for example, would be nothing short of a suicide attempt.

She caught up with Charis only a few meters from the entrance door. 'What, by Hades, do you think you're doing, Charis?' she hissed. She had thought of grabbing Charis by the arm and marching her out of the Hall again, but withdrew her hand as Charis defiantly put out her chin.

'Do you have any problems with my outfit?' she replied, looking down at her clothes: pretty strappy heels, a short pleated skirt. 'Too challenging for your taste? Or too Muggle?'

Morgana narrowed her eyes. 'For a Ravenclaw, you are incredibly daft at times. I am talking about THAT,' she said, and pointed at Charis' chest.

'Mudblood?' Charis asked innocently. 'That's what I am, Morgana. I refuse to be hurt by that term anymore.'

'Can't you just write Muggle-born?'

'No, I cannot. Mudblood has more impact. I want to throw it back in people's faces. Especially Malfoy's.'

Morgana's eyes darted towards her House table. And as if Charis had jinxed it, young Malfoy had risen from his seat and was now walking towards them, his cronies Crabbe and Goyle by his side.

'How thick can one get, Byrne?' he sneered. 'Are you seriously advertising your low status?'

'I happen to be proud of my heritage, Malfoy,' Charis replied in a steady voice. 'Just like you are.'

Draco did not even dignify Charis' statement with a reaction but turned towards Morgana. 'Belakane, go sit down!'

Morgana bit her lip. Part of her wanted to tell the little ferret to shove his broom up his arse, but another part told her to keep her mouth shut. She was in enough trouble already. Today, Charis would have to sort out her mess herself. And she never looked back at her Star Sister as Draco grabbed her arm and pulled her towards the Slytherin table.

What had Morgana wanted? Charis wondered. At first, she had thought that the Slytherin was insulted by the word Mudblood and that she was telling her off. But then she had seen how Morgana had flinched when Malfoy had approached. Since when did the little inbred twit have such power over her best friend?

'If it were not Saturday, I would deduct fifty points from your House for that outfit, Miss Byrne.'

Charis spun around and almost bumped into Snape, who was standing right behind her. She had not even heard him approach. Nobody ever did.

'That word, Miss Byrne, is not something to be shown off within these walls,' Snape continued. 'Especially not in times like these.' He raised his wand, and it took only one flick to change the word Mudblood to Muggle-born.

'I ... I was just trying to show that this word will never hurt me again, sir,' Charis tried to explain. 'I was trying to reclaim it and show that I am proud of what I am.'

'There are better ways to do that, Miss Byrne. You do not want to get yourself in trouble like that.'

Snape's voice was low and calm, and Charis looked up at her Potions master in awe. His obsidian eyes were boring into hers, and for a moment, Charis found it hard to breathe. He cared. He really cared!

Their eye contact broke as loud yelling from the Slytherin table made Snape spin around. Morgana and Draco were both standing, glaring at each other from their respective sides of the table.

'Say that again, Malfoy. If you dare!'

'I think you heard me clearly, Belakane. But I can repeat it for the rest of the school to hear, if you wish. You're a BLOOD TRAITOR!'

The students and teachers in the Great Hall had barely time to gasp. Morgana was over the table in a blink of an eye, and Draco went down like a sack of pumpkins as her fist made impact with his nose. And she would have punched him a second time had Snape not swooped down on her and grabbed her by her wrist.

'That is quite enough, Miss Belakane.' He didn't yell. He did not even sound angry. Instead, his voice was cold as ice, and Morgana did not know what made her shiver more, his voice or the realisation of what she had just done. She had physically assaulted Draco Malfoy, Lucius Malfoy's son!

'Draco, go see the nurse,' Snape continued. 'Miss Belakane, you are coming with me.' And without letting go of her wrist, Snape dragged Morgana out of the Great Hall.

'Everyone, the show is over.' McGonagall's voice echoed through the hall and made the students take off their eyes from the Slytherin table. 'Finish your breakfast and then return to your common rooms.'

Everyone did as they were told. Everyone except Charis. She was still rooted to the very spot where Morgana had stopped her less than ten minutes ago.

'Are you alright, sweetie?'

Charis blinked and looked up at Jack who had approached her from the Ravenclaw table. 'I think I just caused that argument,' she whispered, a terrible feeling growing in her stomach. Morgana had tried to warn her, she had not listened, and now her Star Sister was in serious trouble.

* * *

Although he had not showed it in the Great Hall, Snape felt apoplectic with rage. The last thing Belakane should be doing is drawing more attention to herself and putting herself and her unborn child in danger. Especially with that unborn child's step-sibling! Did the girl have absolutely no common sense?

He dragged Morgana through into his office, slamming the door behind him.

'Explain yourself!' he barked, his black eyes glittering with anger.

Morgana stared at the floor, shaking, unable to meet his gaze. On their way down to his office, she had silently awaited Snape's outburst. But she had not been prepared for anything like this. She had never seen her Head of House so angry at her before.

'He deserved it,' she muttered, feeling vilified.

'Miss Belakane, you do not use physical violence on someone just because their views do not correspond with your own!'

Morgana kept her eyes on the ground. Of course, Snape was right. And although feisty, Morgana was not someone to ordinarily use violence. But the little shit Malfoy had first insulted Charis by using words that were so foul that his tongue was surely going to rot. And when she had stood up for her friend, he had had the guts to call her a blood traitor. Her! The girl who was carrying his father's child, the heir of the Dark Lord! And she had lost her composure.

'Furthermore,' Snape continued, 'you have succeeded in elevating the danger posed to yourself and Miss Byrne, not to mention your unborn baby!'

Morgana felt like she had been slapped. How dare he? She raised her head and gave him a glare worthy of Minerva McGonagall. 'That baby is not supposed to live anyway!'

'Miss Belakane, need I remind you that the baby needs to be kept safe until the time is right?' Snape was beside himself with rage. Did the girl seriously not realise what kind of danger she was in?

'Miss Byrne was very foolish in her choice of clothing today,' he went on, 'but you should not let yourself be dragged into her battles.'

Morgana closed her eyes, breathing deeply. She had told Charis that she would be unable to look out for her any more, but despite everything – despite returning her necklace and walking away from their friendship – Morgana cared deeply for Charis. She could not just sit there and let Lucius' spiteful git of a son insult her.

'Lucius will be angry with you,' Snape stated in a low voice, slowly pacing the office. 'Draco will go crying to him like the spoiled brat he is. It is foolish to test his loyalties like that.'

Morgana brought her hand up to her face. Lucius had been far from her mind when she punched Draco. But Snape was right. The incident would not go unheard of. How was she going to explain her way out of that?

'I'm afraid you and Dumbledore chose the wrong girl for this task,' she murmured. 'I'm just not strong enough for this.'

Snape stopped pacing and fixed the girl with a hard stare. 'Nonsense. If you had continued practicing your Occlumency, none of this would have happened. Control your emotions! How many more times do I need to tell you? It is even more important now you are hormonal!'

'Thanks for rubbing that in!' Morgana spat before she could stop herself but regretted it immediately. 'I'm sorry, sir,' she added quietly, biting her lip. Her emotions were riding a roller coaster, and she had indeed no control of them whatsoever.

Snape breathed deeply through his nose, trying to remain calm. 'This is a testing time for all of us, Miss Belakane. I ask you not to make your situation any worse with carelessness. Employ your Occlumency. Discipline your mind. This mental control is the only thing that will help stop these kinds of ridiculous and potentially dangerous incidents.'

'I can't, sir.' Morgana was desperate. She had told him before that she didn't have the strength. Why wouldn't he listen?

'Can't or WON'T?' Snape asked roughly.

Morgana looked up and saw the stony look in his eyes. 'I cannot, sir!' she pleaded. 'I have tried ... I have failed ...'

By now, Morgana was trying not to cry. The heated confrontation with Draco and Snape's yelling and stubborn goading about Occlumency was pushing her nerves to breaking point.

'Then you try again,' Snape replied calmly.

He took several steps towards her, until he was standing right in front of the girl.

'You were once the most capable witch in your House and the most determined. What has happened to that witch?' he asked quietly. 'That witch who would have once busted a gut to show me how good she was, how she could achieve anything I set her? That witch that now tells me she can't?'

'That witch is carrying the spawn of the devil! And it is breaking her down!' Morgana was feverishly blinking back the tears now. 'I can't sleep, I can't eat, my head feels like it is being attacked by Beaters ...'

Then she broke. The tears came running down her cheeks, and she did not even try to stop them. She did not care anymore.

Snape watched the girl, pale and shaking before him. He had never seen her so defeated. 'Miss Belakane, you need to be strong,' he answered softly, his anger slowly running off of him. 'You can do this.'

Morgana merely squeezed her eyes shut, shaking her head as the tears continued to fall down her cheeks. She would not play strong anymore. She wouldn't have had the strength if she had wanted to.

Snape took another step closer to the girl, looking down at her until she was ready to lift her head. And when she met his gaze, she found a look in his eyes she had not seen before.

'You were sorted into Slytherin for a reason, Miss Belakane. Do you know why?'

'No, sir,' Morgana answered, wiping her tears away with the heel of her hand.

'I will tell you why, Miss Belakane. Because Slytherins are capable of feats of bravery that would shame a Gryffindor. Yes, we all know about the House traits of cunning and ambition. But at the heart of a true Slytherin lies the ability to carry out acts that others could not. Acts that require enormous courage and personal sacrifice. Acts that others may often judge as immoral. Acts that only a Slytherin could do.'

Snape looked deep into the girl's widened blue eyes now, eyes that were filled with admiration.

'You are a Slytherin, Morgana. You can do this.'

'I am failing, sir,' Morgana replied in a weak voice. 'I cannot trust myself at the moment. You know that hitting people is beneath me. I have other means to make them understand, even Draco.'

'This is why your Occlumency is so important,' Snape stressed. 'I KNOW you are capable. You just have not mastered the right technique for you.'

'I can't do this by myself...' Morgana mumbled, her gaze once again returning to the floor.

Snape took the chance to study the girl, then. She indeed looked tired and drained, and she was clearly feeling alone. He had noticed both of the self-titled Star Sisters had been avoiding each other for weeks now. Had they fought? Or were they just too busy with their own lives? Either way, something had come between them, and he had noticed the girls glancing sadly at each other's House table at mealtimes when the other wasn't looking. They obviously both missed each other. And the fact that Morgana was still sticking up for Charis – even against the likes of Draco Malfoy – showed that their loyalty to each other still ran deep.

He sighed. 'Believe me, Miss Belakane, you are not alone.'

Morgana rubbed her temples, her face ashen. 'I know, sir,' she whispered. Snape had offered her his help before, but never before had she been so grateful for a kind word from her Head of House.

'Have you seen the nurse lately?' Snape enquired. The girl looked like owl droppings, and if she was genuinely having a rough pregnancy, as her Head of House, he needed to know.

'I've been to the Hospital Wing this morning,' Morgana confirmed.

'And what did the nurse say?'

Morgana took a deep breath. 'She said she doesn't know why I am feeling as bad as I am. She says the potion I've been taking should be working, that I should be able to eat ...'

'And yet you are not?' Snape asked with a raised eyebrow.

Morgana shook her head sombrely. Over the last couple of days, she had been living on herbal tea and Poppy's potions.

'I made that potion myself,' Snape muttered a little indignantly. 'I have had no complaints before.'

'I'm sure it would work if I could keep it down,' Morgana added hastily, sensing annoyance from the proud Potions master. He was the best potioneer the Wizarding world had seen in decades. The last thing she needed now was him being pissed at her because she reacted badly to one of his potions. 'Do you always give it a chocolate flavour?' she added with a small smile.

Snape's mouth twitched in response. 'Usually it tastes of seaweed, Miss Belakane. I thought chocolate would be more ... appealing.'

'Well, thank you, sir. It is quite tasty on its way DOWN. Not that tasty on its way up though.'

Snape frowned, mumbling to himself. 'If the liquid form is the issue, the answer could be to transform the potion into lozenges. Maybe even ...'

He strode towards his desk as if possessed by an idea, and Morgana watched as he riffled around in his drawer. After a few moments, he triumphantly dropped a packet of boiled mints on to the desktop.

'I am not sure this will work, but it has to be worth a try,' he told her, striding past her only to take down a bottle of potion from one of the shelves at the back.

As he returned to the desk he pulled out his wand from beneath his robes. And Morgana watched in fascination as he carefully hollowed out a sweet with his wand before pouring a little of the potion in and sealing it again.

'Try that,' he told her, handing her the sweet.

Morgana eyed the mint suspiciously. 'You might want to have a bucket ready.'

Snape raised his eyebrow in annoyance and pointed to the wastepaper bin, and Morgana looked at him balefully as she gingerly put the sweet in her mouth. She had tried to eat a piece of toast earlier, but her stomach had protested already after the first careful nibble. It seemed to be one of those days when nothing stayed down, and the last thing she wanted to do was to vomit in front of Snape. To her surprise, the candy tasted nice. No wonder, it was one of Honeydukes' finest, and once again Morgana wondered if her Head of House had a secret sweet tooth.

Snape watched the girl expectantly as she ate the sweet carefully. She looked nervous and seemed to be listening to her body for the first sign of nausea. But nothing happened. After a few moments, she swallowed and opened her mouth for Snape to see. 'Gone,' she added, unnecessarily.

Snape did a good job of wrinkling his not inconsiderable nose. 'Good,' he answered curtly. 'And how are you feeling?'

'Not like I'm about to throw up anyway. But saying that I am fine would be a lie.'

'Very well.' Snape seemed to take this to be acceptable and began to make more mints with potions inside.

'I want you to think very carefully about today's events, Miss Belakane,' he said in his smooth baritone as he worked. 'As I mentioned, Lucius will not be happy about this incident one little bit. Be prepared for some fall-out from your performance earlier.'

Morgana merely nodded, watching her professor skillfully making potion sweets with his nimble hands.

'Due to your symptoms, I am prepared to overlook the incident for punishment,' he stressed sternly. 'On this occasion only.'

'Thank you, sir,' Morgana whispered gratefully. But Snape seemed to ignore her

'I am telling you to practice Occlumency for your own safety. I want you to make this your priority from now on,' he continued, placing the sweets back into the Honeydukes packet. 'And if you are still unable to eat by tomorrow evening, I want you to go straight to the mediwitch. Understood?' And with that, Snape handed over the packet of mints to the girl, who took them with shaking hands.

'Yes, sir,' she mumbled, stashing them inside her robes.

'Very well. Then you may leave.'

Snape watched as the girl walked slowly towards the door only to pause, turning on her way out.

'Thank you, sir. For everything.'

Snape merely nodded curtly in response.

'Have a nice weekend, sir.' It felt stupid to say such a thing, and promptly, Snape raised an unimpressed eyebrow.

'I hardly think nice will come into it, Miss Belakane.'

'No, I know, sir,' Morgana conceded. 'It's just a thing people say.'

And with that, she gave a sad smile and closed the door behind her.