“Honestly, I have no idea,” she played listlessly with the sandwich in front of her. Everything tasted like sawdust and the pumpkin juice seemed to have turned bitter. Sleep had become evasive. She didn’t know how Dierna was still functioning. She hadn’t seen her twin sleep since it happened. For herself… every night she crept into bed and lay there staring at the ceiling, letting the shadows embrace her as her mother’s arms could not. A couple fitful hours of sleep were all that ever claimed her. She felt as though she was trapped in a thick fog that obscured everything around her. Even Nick. She didn’t even think about returning his question regarding end of term tests.
“You weren’t at breakfast this morning.”
“I wasn’t hungry.”
“Professor McGonagall made an announcement.”
“So?”
“She has requested that all students remain here over break. I was going to stay anyways, but I’m kind of glad it’s being forced. Much easier to explain to the parents that way.”
“It’s just a request, you can go if you want…”
“I won’t. I’ve been thinking about the students who are insisting on going home, or their parents are insisting on it. I wonder…” he paused when Dierna dropped into the seat across from him, “are you ok, you look as though you’ve been to Hades and back.”
“As always, you’re the epitome of tact,” the sarcastic barb came automatically, Dierna wasn’t even really aware of what she had said. She was still completely perplexed by the letter she held in her hand.
“Must be an interesting letter,” Nick tried to keep up the small talk. He was slowly losing his best friends, even though they were still right where they had always been. He hated seeing them like this, but he knew that there was nothing he could do, and that hurt more than anything.
“It’s…” Dierna quickly tucked the parchment into her bag, “nothing. Nothing at all. Quidditch practice today?” she deftly changed the subject. She would think about the letter now safely packed away later. When she had time to think about it and what it meant. Right now she just didn’t feel like dealing with it.
Before Nick had a chance to say anything about the subject of Quidditch Serena quickly jumped in. “Dierna, we have to talk about a few things first.”
“Like what?”
“Like that it’s almost Christmas.”
“And I’m really feeling the spirit of it this year,” Dierna mumbled darkly.
“I know, it’s going to be rather miserable,” Serena finally gave up on even pretending to eat. “But I feel like we should do something, at least for Olivia. You know how Dad is acting… we can’t expect anything from him with this.”
“Mum would have done all her shopping before…” Dierna sighed and frowned at the untouched contents of her plate before continuing, “I know her favorite hiding places, I suppose that’ll have to do. I’m certainly not going shopping.”
“It might be nice to get out for a little while,” Serena leaned against Nick’s arm, “I’m not sure how much longer I can stay inside these walls. It’s silly, but I feel like I’m suffocating here. I’ve never looked forward to leaving Hogwarts like this, but… it’s just not home anymore. Not without Mum.”
“She’s not dead yet,” Dierna spat. “Although she might as well go ahead and get it over with.”
“Dierna!” Serena knocked over her still full glass of pumpkin juice as the shock of what her sister said physically made her jump. “How can you say something like that?!”
“Sorry,” Dierna mumbled, “guess I’m just not in the greatest mood, do you think it’s showing,” the sarcasm was nearly palatable. “I just wish that…” she sighed and grabbed her bag, “I’m going to go study.”
“But the term is over,” Serena protested, “why don’t you stay and…”
“I’ll see you later.”
“Are you alright?” Nick wasn’t quite sure what to do about the tears streaming down his girlfriend’s face.
“My family is falling apart, of course I’m not alright,” she snapped before grabbing her own bag and practically running from the Great Hall.
“Mr. Wood, is everything alright?”
Nick turned to see the Headmistress and the new Ancient Runes professor standing behind him. “Of course not Professor, nothing is alright, and I can’t do any thing to fix it and apparently I only make things worse, even though I try to be of some help.” His tone was nearly as dark as Dierna’s had been and with all of the same bite. Apparently bitterness was contagious.
Minerva’s eyebrows shot up at the tone she was being addressed in. None of the students spoke to her like that. Especially not Nicolas Wood who was usually so respectful and upbeat. It was a mark of how deeply affected everyone was by the tragedy.
“Sorry Professor,” Nick seemed to have realized who he was speaking to, “just a little upset with how completely useless I’m feeling at the moment, didn’t mean to be so disrespectful.” With a nod to the two faculty members he excused himself to look for a nice quiet corner to hide himself in for awhile. He didn’t much feel like talking to anyone anymore.
Minerva sighed heavily, “I suppose I really should drop by the Gryffindor Tower, everyone from the House seems to be still in shock, I just don’t know what to do with them…”
“I take it Madam Snape is much loved at least that is the impression I get from the students.”
“She is, I just don’t know what we are going to…” Minerva broke off again, this time due to a surge of anger, not emotion. “That damned poltergeist, if he wasn’t so… I would turn him out in an instant.” The spirit had overturned the floating candles in the Great Hall and now students were running for cover to avoid being burned. “Excuse me my dear, but I must see to this.”
Of course the first order of action would be to calm Argus down from his murderous rage now that he’d come upon the scene and seen the mess the poltergeist was making. Taking care of the wayward being would have to wait for later. And then she’d have to send at least one House Elf to look after Argus once he was told that she was not going to banish Peeves. He always managed to procure a bottle of Old Ogdens whenever they came to this crossroads. Considering how often that happened it was rather amazing that he hadn’t managed to drink himself to death yet.
“May I see you back to your classroom Professor MacLeod?” Sirius quickly sidestepped a shower molten wax as he made his way to the Ancient Runes Professor’s side. “I promise you, it’s not always this exciting around here.” But for all his teasing there was a dark sadness behind his eyes. Although all of the instructors had welcomed the new addition to their staff as warmly as they could there was still some inevitable resentment to her presence. And they had no one to blame but Voldemort.
“Thank you, I would appreciate that.”
“Perhaps you would…” Sirius trailed off as the new professor slightly inclined her head as she met Professor Aagensen’s eyes as they passed in the hall. It wasn’t the nature of the greeting that bothered him, for no words were spoken. It was that the way they met each other’s eyes held a look that went far beyond the faint glimmer of recognition that he expected from two new acquaintances. “Have you spent much time with Ingrid? I’ve heard she can tell some fascinating tales about her childhood, she’s lived all over Scandinavia.”
“We have talked a bit since I came here,” the response was guarded and carefully worded. It didn’t promise an earlier acquaintance between the two women, but it didn’t rule it out either. And her tone frustratingly did not welcome further questions on the topic. To cement that she quickly asked Sirius about Hogwarts’ Christmas traditions, forcing him to give lengthy replies, which lasted until they reached her classroom.
Sirius did not trust Aagensen at all. He remembered the rumors when she had started as a student. The whispers of dark magic and relations with less than friendly non-humans… If Professor MacLeod was on friendly terms with Ingrid, it only served to heighten his own suspicions about her. Perhaps Minerva had been a bit hasty in her selection of a new instructor. He was most certainly going to keep his eyes open.
~~~~~~~~~~~
“I’m fine, leave me be and attend to more deserving patients,” Eric brushed Poppy off as she came at him with another dose of whatever cocktail of healing potions it was that she’d been force feeding him since Weasley and Potter had dragged him in half dead.
His left leg, which had been previously injured, was now all but useless. And no matter what Poppy gave him he was still wheezing when he breathed. He was really starting to feel his age, whatever it was. He couldn’t rightly remember these days. Well past 150, he was certain of that. He was probably pushing 200 come to think of it. But it didn’t matter how old he was. He certainly wasn’t going to let a pack of blood hungry Death Eaters decide when he was going to meet his maker. They didn’t deserve that honor.
“Have they returned yet?” He asked the nurse as he made a face and downed every cup of brightly colored and vile tasting liquid on the tray she brought with her. It didn’t matter that he was one of the greatest potions masters to have ever lived. He couldn’t abide the taste of anything brewed for a medical purpose, even if it was made following his own instructions. Especially if it was made by someone’s hand other than his own. It had taken a great deal of cajoling and convincing, even with him on the brink of death, to take anything from Poppy. The point that assured his cooperation was that Severus had brewed her entire store. For all their bitter words he trusted Snape, not that he had had much choice at that point in time.
“No they have not returned yet. Although I can’t believe you would send them back to that moldy basement…”
“My home is not now, nor has it ever been moldy!” Eric thumped his fist down on the side table, making the empty classes shake and clang together. “It was a palace under the streets of Paris, with a magnificent lab, and…” he lost some of his bluster, “I suppose it’s all in pieces now. All that research, lost… lost…”
“I don’t see what was so important that you had to send Charlie and Harry back there. It isn’t safe. What in the world could be so important that you had to risk their lives?”
“They knew enough to bring Yvonne,” he gestured to the miraculously unharmed portrait of his wife. “But they forgot her heart.”
“If you have her heart floating in some jar…”
“I was speaking metaphorically woman!” Eric all but shouted, “[I]metaphorically[/I] speaking I have her heart and soul kept in one little box. It is even more dear to me than her portrait. I can see her face clearly, even after all these years… but her prized possessions, they speak of who she was…”
“Hmpf… well it will be your conscience, not mine if those boys come to any harm.” It didn’t matter how old they got. Any students that she had treated in her time remained children and were incapable of taking care of themselves. They really should not have been allowed to go back to Paris.
“How is she?” He pulled back the curtain that had been set up around his bed to peer across the room to the curtained alcove where Morgan lay.
“The same, still the same.” Poppy’s hands shook slightly as she righted the glasses that had tumbled over when Eric had took out his anger on the table where they sat. “Somewhere between life and death, refusing to go either way… she always was stubborn,” she attempted a small smile, but the affect didn’t even mimic any form of true joy. It was pure sadness and despair.
“And Severus?”
Poppy shook her head, “it’s like his heart has been cut out… Do you remember what he was like before? Oh, year ago, right after he came back to Dumbledore? Do you remember how broken and bitter and hateful he was, how angry his eyes were, all the time… do you remember that?”
“Of course.”
Poppy nodded her head, “that is how he is doing.”
Eric moved to get his legs over the side of the bed, but realized that even that small movement was beyond him. He growled in frustration at his own limits. “How often does he sit with her?”
“Whenever he isn’t in class. I’m not sure when was the last time he had an actual meal or slept. He’s either here or in his lab, and goodness knows what he is doing in there. He can’t do anything to help her. I know he can’t, he knows it, and you know it.”
“What about the children, do they come and see her?”
“For a few odd stolen moments everyday. He won’t let anyone else near when he’s with her. It’s a shame… they should be taking comfort from each other and all he does is push them away.” She shook her head sadly. His behavior was making an already tragic even that much worse. “I’ll wager your grandson will be coming to see you anytime now. It’s nearly 4 and that’s when he tends to show up.”
“The next time you see the girl… Dierna… tell her to come visit me. With Severus all in a temper there’s no one for me to discuss the finer points of potion making with.” He tried to sound casual about it, as though he didn’t want anyone to know that he was in fact trying to do a good deed.
“You’re not as horrible as you try to let on, do you know that?” Poppy picked up her tray and made ready to leave.
“How horrible do you think I am?” Eric asked, watching with a faint glimmer of amusement as Poppy’s lips tightened in disapproval.
“Your grandson is here, I’m going to make myself scarce,” she swept away from him in a rustle of starched robes and a faint scent of lemon and bitter tonics. Although she did look back once to find Eric staring after her. She snorted and mumbled under her breath about old fools when he lowered one eye lid to wink at her. She couldn’t wait to get him out of her infirmary.
~~~~~~~~~~
