Classes Resume

Author's Notes: Thank you again, Verity!

Chapter 15: Classes Resume

It was Saturday night. Rowan sat in a window-seat in the Ravenclaw common room, dressed in a thick flannel nightgown and with a blanket drawn around her, watching the driving snow through the leaded glass. There was a fine view of the walk up to the great doors from this window, although right now Rowan couldn't see more than a few feet into the night. Earlier in the evening, before the storm blew in, she thought she had seen a figure, cloaked in black, headed down the path with brisk strides. Now she hoped that whoever it was, and she guessed who it might be, had gotten to wherever he was going safely ahead of the storm.

Rowan had kept busy during the holiday. She'd gotten a good leg up on studying and on some assignments due after the start of term. Generally, she enjoyed solitude, but there was a limit, and she had been getting lonely. Nothing else could explain her seeking Snape out for company yesterday!

She was glad everyone would be returning tomorrow. With a great yawn, Rowan clambered up the stairs and into her bed. Drawing the curtains closed to keep out the chill night, she snuggled down to sleep. Late in the night, she awakened to the feeling that she had had some awful dream, but could not recall any of it. Taking the blanket with her, she climbed out of bed and peeked out the window. The storm had passed. The moonlight that now shone through the broken clouds turned the castle, the frozen lake and the forest into a haunting faerie landscape. She saw a trodden path along the walk to the entrance of the castle. It would appear that whomever it was who had gone out earlier had returned safely. Oddly comforted, Rowan went back to sleep, not to waken again until daylight.

In Dumbledore's office, the headmaster was also wakeful, but he had not slept as he kept watch during the night. When he heard the staircase rising, he heaved a thankful sigh and stood from his chair to open the door for Severus. He was doubly grateful to see the man himself walking in on his own feet, not in any noticeable pain, and bearing no obvious marks.

"Severus, sit down. Is there anything you wish? I will send for tea."

"Thank you, Headmaster, tea would be appreciated."

Dumbledore signaled a house-elf and ordered tea and a variety of breads to be sent up. She was back in seconds, bearing a tray larger than herself, which Dumbledore took from her and set on a side table. Snape had meanwhile lowered himself gratefully into one of the squashy chairs and waited until they were again alone.

"I see you are well and whole still. I take it that the meeting went well?" Dumbledore asked as he poured out.

"Much better than I had feared. The Dark Lord knew, of course, what had happened at the trial. He asked me how it had come about."

"Did you tell him what we agreed?"

"More or less, yes. I told him that, in the moment when we reappeared at the castle, before you returned, I modified Miss Bourne's memory. I said that I caused her to believe that I had been put under the Imperius Curse by him. This led her to support the story I gave you, namely that Miss Bourne and myself were taken unawares by Wart and Boyle, and that I was operating under his control when I ravished Miss Bourne."

"And did he believe all that?" Dumbledore asked. His amused curiosity belied how very important it was that Voldemort accepted Snape's version of events. The fact that he had returned safely made the answer plain.

"He seemed skeptical, at first, that you should believe it. He well knows of my ability to resist the Imperius Curse, but I reminded him that you were a senile old fool who would grasp at any excuse to believe the best of those you cared about. Also, I pointed out that Miss Bourne had backed up my story to you. In the end, the tale played so well to his prejudice that love is weakness that he accepted it entirely."

"Excellent work, Severus. Did you learn anything of note during the subsequent part of the meeting?"

Snape's serious expression did not clear. "There was more regarding Miss Bourne, Headmaster."

Dumbledore put down his teacup and sat up straighter. "What else was said?"

"The Dark Lord was very curious about her declaration at the trial. He wanted to know why she said that she had been willing. I had not claimed to have planted that story in her mind; I would have been hard pressed to convince him of that, since of course I would realize the consequences."

"What did you tell him then?"

"I said that I had been shocked to discover that the silly chit had fancied herself in love with me. Knowing I would never willingly marry outside Slytherin House, she deliberately made that statement in order to trap me into marriage. She knew, you see, that you would threaten to dismiss me if I did not propose to her."

"Terribly astute of her," Dumbledore said with a twinkle. "I trust Voldemort believed that tale, but that you do not."

"I am ashamed to confess that I did think that at first. I have since come to realize my error," Severus said, thinking back to the scene with Rowan the other day.

"I am very glad to hear you say so, Severus. She is a remarkable young woman, is she not?"

"Entirely so," Snape agreed. "Unfortunately, I may have inadvertently increased the danger of her situation."

Dumbledore looked grave and put down his sticky bun. "Please explain."

"The Dark Lord was offended on my behalf that I should be forced into an unsuitable marriage. He offered to take care of the matter for me. He suggested that young girls are notably clumsy, and sometimes things just happen."

Dumbledore was now entirely alert and putting his mind to work on the problem. "How much danger do you think she is in? Must she go into hiding?"

"I believe she is safe, for a while, at least. I told the Dark Lord that an accident would look particularly bad and might jeopardize my position with you. I also pointed out that she was an extremely attractive young witch, and that he had himself offered her to me for a plaything. I requested that he kindly wait until I was done playing with her before making any such arrangements."

Dumbledore's blue eyes sparkled merrily at that. "Something tells me that it will take you a very long time to tire of her. If she is safe until then, I am content. How did he take that?"

"It went over well. The Dark Lord was amused; he took it as a compliment that I was gratified by his gift. Fortunately, he does not realize that she is Muggle-born. She looked like quite a plausible witch at the trial. It is rare for children of Muggle families to really look like they fit into Wizarding society until they have been out of school for at least a year or two. I was fooled, and, thankfully, so was whoever reported on it to Dark Lord. Suggesting that she deliberately trapped me into marriage also implied that she is familiar with our ways as only a child of a Wizarding family would be. I pray that it will be a long while before he finds out the truth."

"Excellent, Severus. I am glad that she will be able to complete her schooling here. We will all keep careful watch to ensure her safety."

Sunday afternoon, shortly before dinner, the coaches bringing the returning students from Hogsmeade Station rolled up to the entrance. When they came to a stop, the students climbed out and headed for their various common rooms to unpack. They were all subdued, some visibly upset. Most of the students had read the Daily Prophet over the holidays and knew about Voldemort's rampage. Those that did not had heard about it on the train on the way up. There were several empty seats on the carriages which had been meant for students who would now never return.

There was no time for more than a quick greeting in the common rooms before it was time to head back down for dinner. The long tables had been restored to the Great Hall, and the students sat themselves at their House tables again. The full staff oversaw the meal from the staff table.

Three of the four Houses ate quietly at their tables and murmured amongst themselves. Much of the food remained on the platters. Slytherin table was rowdy enough to make up for all the others. The elder students, especially, embraced the news of Christmas week with joy. They felt it was a sign that they and their families would be in the ascendant in the near future, and that the Wizarding world must soon acknowledge their clear superiority. Eventually a food fight broke out that got completely out of hand in a very short time.

When a mashed-potato missile landed on the table in front of Snape, he stood and walked to his House table. "Which of you would like to spend your first night back slicing pickled frog's brains?" he inquired, in a tone suggesting that he had no greater desire in life than to spend the evening supervising slicing activities.

As soon as they noticed his stern shadow, the instigators put down their weapons and began industriously and innocently shoving food into their mouths.

"None of you? Excellent choice," Snape said crisply. He returned to his seat at the staff table and resumed his meal. When dinner was over, and the students headed back to their rooms, Minerva McGonagall cornered him before he could leave.

"Why didn't you take any points for that brazen show of disrespect during dinner?"

Elated at such a chance to needle Minerva, Snape gave in to the impulse. "Because it wasn't necessary. My House is fortunate to have a Head who can keep order without resorting to such tawdry artifices," Snape answered loftily.

Minerva all but choked. "I can't remember when I have been unfortunate enough to witness such a blatant display of favoritism!"

Snape replied in his silkiest tone, "I know you are getting on in years, Professor McGonagall, but you should perhaps not let on so easily that both your memory and your eyesight are failing. Good evening." He turned and swept down the dungeon steps with his head held high and robes billowing smartly.

McGonagall whirled in fury and bumped into Albus, who had been standing right behind her. "Professor Dumbledore! You aren't going to let him get away with that, are you?"

"Now, now, Minerva. The boy is going to have a very difficult job this term. Let him have his fun."

Clearly not about to get any satisfaction from Albus, McGonagall marched irately back to her chambers. On the way, she passed Neville on the stairs. "Twenty points to Gryffindor, Longbottom, for not getting lost on the way back from the station."

Back in the Ravenclaw common room, friends were all greeting each other. There were two Ravenclaws missing, a first year and a third year. Both had been Muggle-born and had been killed by Death Eaters. Professor Flitwick had kindly invited the close friends of the victims to his rooms for a talk.

Rowan and her friends finally had a chance to sit together comfortably, away from the crowd. Ariadne and Edgar had been worried about Rowan, knowing she was from a Muggle family. She assured them that she had been perfectly safe at school, and that her mother was well. Rowan squirmed at the lie. At least the second part was true!

"I have so much to tell you!" Ariadne said to Rowan. And I have so much to conceal, Rowan thought wryly to herself.

"How does the dress fit? Did you get a chance to try it on? My mom was just busting with the secret, and she finally told me when I got home and couldn't slip up and tip you off!"

"It's wonderful; it fits perfectly, and the color is really becoming."

"Just don't gain any weight for the rest of the year!"

"I'll try not to," Rowan laughed. "So how was your Christmas, was it happy? Did you like your gifts?" Rowan had snuck some time in around her thestral project to spin and knit Ariadne a muffler. She'd blended chocolate-milkweed fiber in with natural brown wool to make the yarn. The scarf felt warm and silky and had an aroma of hot-cocoa that was supposed to provide the wearer some protection against hexes. She'd had a hard time letting it go, but in the end she sent it off to Ariadne's mom to put under the tree.

"I love the muffler, Rowan. Thank you so much!"

"What else did you get?"

"I got some clothes too. My mom took me shopping in Diagon Alley after New Year's Day, so I could pick and we'd be able get more because of the sales. My dad gave me a tiny Remembrall on a chain, like a necklace. It's supposed to remind me when I haven't written home." Rowan laughed; how like a father. Hers had been like that, she remembered fondly.

"I brought you something from the farm," Edgar chimed in. Rowan looked up startled, then she noticed a largish, lumpy sack on the floor next to him. "I saw the scarf you gave Ariadne, and I felt like an idiot for not thinking of it before Christmas." He handed her the sack; it was light for its size and had a familiar aroma. "It's a fleece from one of last spring's lambs: her name is Cocoa."

Rowan untied the sack and peeked in. There was a whole lamb's fleece, exactly as it came off the sheep. It was just the shade of hot cocoa, and it felt soft, with very little vegetable matter stuck in it. It smelled warmly of sheep. When had he seen Ariadne's scarf? "Thank you, Edgar, this is really nice. I'm sorry I don't have anything for you."

"That's ok. I mean, I didn't think we were going to exchange gifts, but like I said, when Ari' came to visit, and I saw the scarf you made her, I remembered we had a whole farm full of wool and figured you'd probably think that was really cool."

"Edgar invited me to come for a few days at the end of the holidays," Ariadne said. "I'd never seen a real farm before. It's really neat, they have lots and lots of sheep. The babies are so cute. I kept away from the parchment building, it stinks pretty bad. Oh, excuse me a minute, I just saw Cassie, and I need to ask her something." Ariadne jumped up and ran over to catch the dark-haired girl just headed out the portrait hole, leaving Rowan and Edgar alone together in their corner.

Edgar shifted uncomfortably for a moment. "I hope you don't mind, Rowan. I owled Ariadne a note for Christmas, same as you, and she wrote back how she'd never seen a real farm. She seemed so excited; it would have been rude not to ask her for a visit." His ears turned a faint shade of pink.

Aha, so that was the way the wind blew. Good thing she hadn't decided to depend on him marrying her, she thought with a smile. Rowan had hinted to Ariadne before Christmas that she wasn't serious about Edgar, so she wasn't upset that Ariadne had taken it upon herself to write to him. Now she was just relieved that he'd be distracted. "That's ok, Edgar, it sounds like she had a really good time. I'm happy for her."

"Thanks, Ro'," Edgar answered. Ariadne finished her conversation with Cassandra and returned. The three of them compared notes on their class schedule for the next term and gossiped peacefully until bedtime.