Serena shrugged and offered her sister a sympathetic smile. “You’ve been under a lot of stress lately, you’ve missed a few meals and haven’t been sleeping well. What did you expect? Plus you still have school work to think about.”
“I don’t see you dropping dress sizes over this whole thing,” Dierna said irritably.
“Most people wouldn’t consider it that bad of a thing.” Serena tipped her head to the side and considered her sister’s figure as she finally found something to wear, “you know, if this keeps going on you’re going to have no chest left to speak of,” she started to giggle at Dierna’s horrified look, and laughed loudly when Dierna threw a discarded shirt at her. Her laugher was contagious, and soon Dierna was giggling as well. But for both of them it soon dissolved into tears.
“I feel guilty laughing while Mum is…” Dierna trailed off.
“I know.”
“Do you think things will ever get back to normal?” she asked hopefully, wanting to cling to one last little bit of optimism.
“No,” Serena said softly.
“But what if Mum were to get better?” Dierna made one last effort to hold onto the life she had known before this happened. If she could have one little piece of assurance she could hold onto everything she had ever known. If not… she would have to let it all start drifting away.
“No,” there were no tears in Serena’s voice now, only a sense of grim finality, “things will never be like they were. They can’t be, not anymore.”
Dierna sighed, but said no more. In a resigned state she pulled her hair back and grabbed her book bag as she headed for the stairs. “I might not be back until late,” she called over her shoulder, but she didn’t look back.
As she headed down towards the dungeons she thought about what her life had become. It was depressing. She no longer lived for Stefan’s letters as she once had, but somehow they meant more to her than they ever did before. She didn’t understand it, but realized, somewhere in the depths of her mind that she was capable of being an independent woman, but was making the choice to share her life. If she hadn’t been so wrapped up in her grief and the continuing demands of school and family she might have realized a lot about herself. About how much she had changed in the last months.
Her father was already in his lab when she arrived. Sometimes he wasn’t, but most times he was. He very briefly looked up to acknowledge her presence, but silently went back to whatever it was he was doing.
Normally she would pull out equipment and start to work on either one of the staple supplies that Poppy was always running low on, or her own research projects. Tonight she pulled out a stack of books, including the tomes of her father’s handwritten research, and poured over them. Eric had been right. Neither of her research projects had been what she was looking for. She needed something else, something that had meaning to her…
After nearly three hours of reading, she realized she wouldn’t be finding it that night. Not as long as her mind was so far away. Although she had made a few promising notes, nothing was pulling itself together for her. As she started to shove the books back her bag she caught sight of the notebook in which she kept a calendar, and pulled it out to check the date of the upcoming Defense test. Her eyes widened in shock as she caught sight of the current date.
The first of February. Had it really been that long since the attack on the school? A month and a half… it seemed like forever ago and like it was just last night. Had her mother really been hanging onto life, while being so close to death, for that long? How much longer could she hold on?
She mentally shook herself as she snapped the notebook shut. She wasn’t sure if she was prepared to think about that yet. But she realized that she would have to think about them. Something had to happen sooner or later. Her mother couldn’t continue on as she was forever.
As she finished putting her things back in her bag she ran her fingers over the stack of letters she had been receiving from researchers. How was she supposed to make a decision about her future when there was so much holding her back at home? She desperately wanted her father to talk to, but that was impossible now… sighing, she silently let herself out of the lab while her father continued to work. But, although she went to bed, she got just as much sleep as the battered spirit who worked in the dungeons all through the night.
~~~~~~~~~
“I forgive you for trying to meddle in my life and making a mess of things,” Nimue said coolly. Kalliope had commanded that the young novice and Remus talk things out. She hadn’t left any specific orders of what had to be said and how it was said though.
Remus’ brow lowered, “if you were my daughter…” he watched how Nimue bristled, and realized that even though he knew that what he had done was for her own good, he would have to start the fence mending if he ever wanted her to realize that, “if you were my daughter,” he started again, “I would be truly honored.”
Nimue’s shoulders dropped as most of the fight went out of her. “I know you think you are acting in my best interests,” she finally admitted grudgingly. Every word was heavy with the full weight of what it had cost her to utter them. She tossed her hair back, “I suppose I understand why you won’t let me leave, but I wish you would at least consider the idea.”
“If it was a simple matter that didn’t involve a risk to your safety, I would let you go in a heartbeat. As it is… I will at least consider it.”
In an effort to apologize how she had been acting recently Nimue gently teased her professor, looking just the slightest bit devilish, “are you sure you’re not considering it just to get me away from Aias?”
Remus smiled, but it lacked any true humor, “he is a good man, Nimue, but I know you will not even entertain the idea of marrying him,” his tone held just the slightest edge of command. “Although, I know he does mean well…”
“He knows I’ve been unhappy here…”
“I was thinking more of the fact that you may not take vows here at the temple.”
Nimue looked up questioningly, pulling her eyes away from the flickering lamp she had been watching intently, “why would it make a difference if I don’t take the vows of a priestess?”
“Because this,” Remus swept his hand to indicate the whole of the temple complex, “is not how the rest of the society here works. Yes, the priestesses are highly honored and deferred to. They act as diplomats and can be leaders. But it is the men that have complete control of the world outside of the sacred boundary here. If you stay here, and do not take vows, you wouldn’t be able to represent yourself, you would need a man constantly by your side.”
Nimue frowned, “but that’s silly, women are just as capable as men, if not more so.”
“They aren’t if their entire culture says they aren’t.”
Nimue snorted, “then its about time someone gave them a social revolution.”
“How much good do you think it would do?” Remus couldn’t help but smile softly. Nimue sounded just like her mother right now, it was nice to know that she did have some of Morgan’s spirit after all.
“It could totally change the way these people think…” Nimue started off vehemently.
Remus shook his head, “look at the wizarding community in Britain, and the rest of Europe.” Nimue just looked at him in confusion, so he continued on, “what rights does a married woman have?”
“My mother…”
“Your father is an extraordinary man for someone of a patrician line,” a confession that Remus would have been unable to make earlier in life, “and many men have adapted more and more Muggle traditions. But legally, what rights does your mother have?” He answered the question for her, “very few. According to our written laws, your father is her guardian. We’ve never given up the practice of the pater familias. Technically, your brother still has to defer to your father as the head of the family. If you want to be part of a reform movement, look to your own people first.”
“Is the whole magical community so androcentric?”
“Many parts of it are. Reforms don’t come easily to communities in which they aren’t needed. That’s one of the drawbacks of magic, so many things are easy for us to obtain that we overlook the faults of our society. Many women from the old class of purebloods are told that their duty in life is to marry well and produce more purebloods. You’ve been given a choice Nimue, take it. Lead the wizarding world in a social revolution,” he smiled at her, “think of what an accomplishment that would be.”
Nimue smiled back, but only shrugged. It wasn’t that she didn’t want the responsibility of making that change, she didn’t want the exposure. So many of her classmates at Hogwarts had talked about the mark they were going to leave on the wizarding world as quidditch players, Ministry members, and inventors… she didn’t want to be remembered. That was a responsibility she didn’t want. She would be content to be unremembered by the history books.
“What are you thinking of now?” Remus asked gently after a long period of silence had passed.
“That I still want to go home. I know that my place is there, at least for now.”
“I can’t make any promises. You know that you were sent here for your safety. There’s no telling what Voldemort would do with you, he wants retribution.”
Nimue shrugged, “he’ll have to get over it, he can’t always get what he wants.”
~~~~~~~~~~
The class of seventh years stared in horror at the smoky mess streaming across the unlucky Hufflepuff’s desk. The grey, gloopy, concoction spread fairly quickly, but to the inhabitants of the room it seemed as though time had stopped.
Dierna maintained enough sense to cast a stasis charm on her own bright green, viscous mixture. But she didn’t dare look up. Normally she felt free to let her mind wander while in Potions class. But lately… she didn’t dare break her concentration for a minute with the moods her father had been in. As far as she knew, the only House that hadn’t produced multiple tearful recounts of Potions classes since the accident was Slytherin.
She started a countdown in her head. It would be about 5 more seconds. The situation had to be fully surveyed, assessed for injuries, and once her father made sure that no one was in danger of dying: the tirade.
“Get out.”
A Ravenclaw gasped and was quickly shushed by her partner. Every pair of eyes was on the potions master. Yes, Snape was regularly scary beyond all belief in class. He yelled or used a deadly whisper, he incited fear and respect. This was different. This was…
“Oh…” Dierna felt her chest tighten and her breath catch. Yes, she knew, had known for a long time, that her father had once been a Death Eater, but she had always thought about him acting as a spy in that role. Now, for the first time, she caught a glimpse of the man who would voluntarily join Voldemort’s league. She wanted to cry, but didn’t dare, at least not now.
Yes, she had been on the receiving end of her father’s temper on numerous occasions. She’d been threatened, screamed at, firmly put in her place. But this was the first time she had ever witnessed such unbridled anger.
As the unlucky Hufflepuff fled from the room Dierna took the opportunity to look around. All of the students, including her sister, were wearing matching looks of shock, not quite sure what to do with themselves, but too terrified to work effectively on their assignments. There were sure to be a larger than usual number of failing grades today. But, as she bent to check her notes, she noticed that one other student wasn’t shell shocked.
Dierna felt a tremor of rage at the pity she saw it Mark’s eyes, but it quickly dissipated. He understood, as no one else in the room could. And it was a relief, knowing that there was someone else who wasn’t so shocked. She didn’t feel quite so alone.
She made a mental note to go see Eric as soon as her classes were over for the day. She spent a lot of time with the old man now. She found something comforting in him. And as there was little solace for her anywhere else, she took it eagerly. Eric understood these things in a way that Stephan couldn’t. And she needed that type of understanding right now.
Especially now. How many times had she tried to ask about the Death Eaters and not been given a response? Now she had an answer, of some sort, to many of her questions. What kind of person became a Death Eater? She had witnessed it. The raw anger and malice that was necessary to kill, to torture… she had witnessed that. She turned back to her work, which almost no one else had been able to do, but her mind wasn’t very attentive. She was too busy thinking about how complex people were. And her own fears began to bubble up.
Her father’s classroom behavior had never truly bothered her before. Yes, he scared countless numbers of students, reduced many to tears, and had probably deterred more than a few from a career in potions. But that was just the way he was, she was used to it. This was different. This was a glimpse into the downward spiral of his mind.
It was the first time that Dierna realized how bad things really were. She had known that her father wasn’t handling this well… she shuddered as things started clicking into place. She shrugged off Nick’s concerned hand on her shoulder and gave him a tight smile as she turned back to her thoughts.
She hadn’t given it much thought before now, but all the little things were starting to come together and they painted a very disturbing picture. Things just weren’t right… she tried to call up all the instances that had stuck in her mind as being truly out of place. One stuck out in particular. Olivia cowering and shaking with fear… it had been the other night when she had gone to get a book from her father’s private study. She had brushed it off at the time, she’d often been on the receiving end of her father’s temper, especially at that age.
But Olivia had been afraid. Now, looking back at it, she could place the emotion she had seen on her younger sister’s face. She quickly bottled and labeled a sample of her potion to be handed in.
“Are you alright? You’ve gone all pale,” Serena grabbed her sister’s arm as they stepped out into the hallway.
“I don’t know… I just…” Dierna looked straight into her sister’s worry filled eyes, “one of us needs to be in Mum and Dad’s quarters every evening to keep an eye on Olivia… something just isn’t right… and I don’t know what could happen, but our presence may help.”
~~~~~~~~~~~
