A New Definition of Family
Chapter 15: Hogwarts (Part 1)
Disclaimer: I do not own any of JK Rowling’s characters or any portion of the Harry Potter universe. And I don’t lead a very exciting life, either, which is how I manage to find time to write stories using these wonderful characters that I do not, in fact, own (please refer to previous sentence regarding said ownership). Speaking of which, any characters, places, situations, vintages or whatnot that you don’t find in her fabulous books, well they are mine.
Rinna opened her front door and slipped her arm around the elbow of her guest. “Hullo, what’s a handsome bloke like you doing on my doorstep?" she greeted him.
Remus rolled his eyes. “And thus the schmoozing begins…” he sighed. “What are you going to try to sweet-talk me into, Rinna?”
She ignored his comment. "Did I mention that you are looking especially dashing this afternoon, Mister, er … Just what is your title now, anyway?"
Remus straightened the collar of his worn shirt, assuming a haughty manner. "I am an authenticator and crafter of magical documents and contracts."
She affected a simpering smile. "Oh Remy!" she cooed, "You make is sound so... glamorous, so sexy, so..."
"Bloody boring?" he suggested with a lift of his eyebrows.
"Hmmm. Took the words right out of my mouth! But it can't be any worse than tending bar."
"And I don't have to dress like a tart." Remus cast her a sly look.
"Hey!" Rinna sounded affronted, but her grin belied that. "I don’t recall you objecting too much... besides, I don't have to dress like a tart anymore!"
He laughed. "Hear, hear! Instead you will dress like a matron!"
She looked aghast. "Perish the thought!"
"Really, Rinna, I can see you in a high-necked tartan plaid robe giving Minerva McGonagall a bit of competition in the fashion world of Hogwarts." He laughed again at the expression on her face.
She glared at him. "Bite me, Remy!"
"Not the best thing to suggest to a werewolf, luv!" He followed her into the kitchen. “And you haven’t answered my question, you know.”
She pulled a bottle of wine out of the refrigerator, turned and regarded him with an innocent smile. “Chardonnay?” she offered, showing him the bottle.
He took it from her hands, examining the label: Brutus Shaw Winery, the Finest Wizarding Vintage. “All right, now I know you are up to something! You wouldn’t break out our favorite cheap wine for just any old occasion.”
She clicked her tongue. “Really, Remy, you are so mistrustful. Why wouldn’t I want to share a ‘Thirty Knut Brute’ with you? Especially when the occasion we are celebrating is our recent gainful employment?” She took the bottle, popped the cork with her wand and poured two glasses, handing him one. “Cheers!” She clinked her glass against his.
He took a sip before he sat down at the table. “All right, spill.”
She slid into the chair next to him. “I need a caretaker for the house. It would be closer to your new job, you’d only have to cover your food… no, listen before you shake your head! It wouldn’t be charity, Remus; you’d be doing me a favor, keeping up the house and such. I have to pay on it whether I’m here or not, so someone might as well be here.” She began ticking off points with her fingers. “You’d have a permanent place to stay, no Mundungus or other unsavory roommate, the cellar during the full moon…”
“Wait, Rinna, slow down!” Remus held up his hands. “Let me get this straight. You are suggesting that I stay here, rent-free.”
“Not exactly. You would stay here, rent-free, in exchange for the upkeep of the property. And before you think I’m offering this because I feel sorry for you, or any other such nonsense, you should know that it comes from purely avaricious motives; I don’t want to pay for someone to come over to water the plants and do yard work.”
Remus snorted. “Avaricious motives, my arse. You do not have a greedy bone in your body.” He swirled the wine in his glass, staring at it. “Case in point: your generous offer.”
Rinna sighed in exasperation. “Why can’t you see that this would be mutually beneficial?”
He looked up from the glass. “Oh, I can see it. And since you put the arrangement in terms of an exchange of services, thus sparing my pride, and even went so far as to hint that what I’d really be doing is helping out a damsel in distress rather than accepting charity, you have made me a rather palatable proposal.”
“So you’ll do it?” She clapped her hands.
He smiled and shrugged. “I can’t think of a good reason why not.” A thought struck him. “Are you sure you won’t be uncomfortable with me here when you are home on weekends or holidays?”
She asked him seriously, “Would you be uncomfortable?”
“Not very, I should think.” A cheeky smirk spread across his face. “As long as we avoid imbibing in alcohol while we are alone together…” Rinna raised an eyebrow and pointedly lifted her wineglass. Remus’ smirk grew wider. “Already, a rule broken… damn.”
“Actually, not,” she said airily as she went to the cupboard for another glass. “Dorrie will be joining us shortly; I’m cooking a celebration dinner for the three of us.”
Remus leaned back in his chair contentedly. An evening of food and cheap wine in the company of my favorite girls, a place to call home, and soon a paycheck: things are definitely looking up.
The scene in the shade of the large tree on the Weasleys’ back lawn, to an outside observer anyway, was a shocking one; bodies lay strewn everywhere, haphazardly. The sound of ragged breathing and groans pierced the humid summer air. Presently, a throaty, wicked chuckle floated over the group: “I can’t remember the last time I’ve had such fun!”
Harry raised his head from the soft lawn to eye his godmother. “What? What about my birthday party? You said that then, you know.”
Rinna turned her head to look at him, her eyes shining with mischief. “I suppose I did, but at your party we didn’t end the Quidditch games with a water balloon fight.”
“Too bad your nefarious little plot backfired, lads,” Bill said to the twins as he sat up, “but to be honest, it is so bloody muggy out here that after all that flying, a good soaking was rather welcome.” Fred and George merely sat up and gave their oldest brother a look that seemed to imply that this was what they had intended all along.
Rinna sat up, little bits of grass and leaves and other detritus sticking to her damp hair and clothes. “I say, now that I have you all together at the same time, there’s something I wanted to discuss with you lot,” she flicked her gaze at Charlie and Bill, “at least, the ones returning to Hogwarts in two days…”
“Crikey! What did you bring that up for?” demanded George. “And here we were trying to avoid thinking of the end of the holidays!”
“Which explains this last hurrah celebrating the halcyon days of our summer…” added Fred. “Really, Rinna, it’s in poor taste for you to bring up something we are all trying to put out of our minds.” He gave a delicate shudder.
Rinna refrained from rolling her eyes and looked contrite. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize I was bringing up such a painful subject. I hope I haven’t scarred you twins for life,” she said sweetly. The rest of the group began to sit up, one by one, curious about what Rinna had to say. She sat cross-legged, her wrists dangling from her knees, waiting for Fred and George to finish their smart retorts. “As you know, my application to teach at Hogwarts was accepted. What I want to talk about is how we should act toward each other when we are there.”
“Are you teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts?” Harry inquired.
“Well, I will be assisting your new D.A.D.A. professor, actually, so yes, but what I want to know is if you want it to be common knowledge that we know each other.”
There was much discussion around the group on the lawn, with Bill and Charlie giving input, but in the end, everyone deferred to Harry, since it was felt he would be most affected by any decision. After all, it would already be knowledge to some that Rinna was a distant relative of the Weasleys.
“I think,” said Harry carefully, after much thought, “that we shouldn’t publicize the fact that I’m your godson. Not keep it a secret, necessarily, but not really volunteer the information, if you know what I mean.” He looked at Rinna, to see if she was upset.
She wasn’t. “All right then. We’ll keep it under wraps for now. It’s just as well, since I can’t be accused of nepotism if people don’t know we’re family!” She smiled at Harry. Harry felt warmth permeate him at the thought of Rinna considering him family.
“Do you mean that you’ll make us your favorites, then, Rinna?” asked Fred, a sly gleam in his eye.
She looked at him wryly. “In your case, I’d be more likely to be accused of being too harsh on you to avoid charges of partiality, I’m afraid.” She gave the twins a look that conveyed I used to run with the Marauders and I am ready for any of your little tricks.
George clutched dramatically at his chest. “You wound us! We aren’t even at school yet, and you are assuming we’ll cause trouble?”
“I wonder why,” Rinna said drolly, as she tossed a water balloon she’d been hiding up in the air, catching it neatly before chucking it at him, hitting him square in the chest.
----- -----
After dinner, as Rinna was preparing to leave, Harry was able to catch her alone. “Uh, Rinna? I hope I didn’t hurt your feelings or anything… you know, by wanting to keep it quiet that you’re my godmother.”
She looked at him shrewdly. “No, but I appreciate that you were concerned that you had.” She smiled. “To be honest, if I was in your place, and you were in mine, I’d want to find out what kind of teacher you were before I made any open declarations of association with you. I mean, really, are you fair? An ogre? Incapable of teaching your way out of a haystack?”
A funny look stole across Harry’s face. “Do you know how to do that mind-reading thing?” he asked suspiciously.
“Legilimency, you mean?” she responded. “I wasn’t using it on you just then, if that’s what you were thinking.”
Harry’s eyes widened. “Then you can do it?”
“Oh, I’m not brilliant at it by any stretch of the imagination. I always end up with a reaction headache. I’m far more competent at Occlumency, which is blocking others from my thoughts.” She shrugged. “At any rate, I just tried to see it from your perspective, and that’s what I came up with. I was spot on, then?”
“Pretty close.” He looked abashed. “It’s just that…”
“Harry,” she said firmly, “I get it. It’s all right. You will be ‘Harry Potter, student’ except, I imagine, when you are causing trouble, in which case you will be ‘Mister Potter,’” this was said in a fair imitation of Minerva McGonagall, “and if you are anything like your dad or your godfather, I suspect it will be ‘Mister Potter’ more often than not!”
She was teasing him, he could tell. He put on his most ingenuous expression. “Trouble? Me?”
She pointed at his face. “There it is! The patented Marauder Face of Innocence! I’ve seen it many times, my friend. You are a natural!” She laughed, a bit nostalgically. “But Harry, please know that I am taking my role as godmother seriously. You can always come to me if you need me, or just to talk. Anytime.”
Harry nodded. “Thanks. I’d like that, I think.”
“Well then, I will see you the day after tomorrow.” She smiled at him.
“Are you nervous?” he blurted, and then regretted it, wondering if he was getting too personal.
Rinna snorted. “Of course I am! But more like in the way you get nervous before a big important Quidditch match, you know? More excited than scared…”
“Yeah.” He knew how that felt. “Well… the day after tomorrow, then.” He gave her a quick awkward hug.
She ruffled his hair. “Goodnight, Harry.” She apparated and was gone, leaving Harry standing alone with his thoughts.
The enchanted ceiling of the Great Hall of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry revealed the wickedly stormy weather outside, but fortunately without the rain. Harry was seated at the Gryffindor table with his friends, eagerly awaiting the Sorting, partly because he had not been to one since his own his first year, and partly because it meant they would be that much closer to eating. He looked up at the Staff Table, noting Rinna sitting between Professors Sprout and Flitwick. She looked perfectly calm, but there was an eager glint in her eyes, as if she couldn’t wait for the Sorting to start either.
“Did you hear me, Harry?” Hermione was asking. “I said I wonder where the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher is? There’s an empty seat by the Headmaster…”
“I wish they’d hurry; I’m starving,” Ron moaned. But any further lament was cut short by the arrival of the First Years, soaked to the skin by the thunderstorm, and Professor McGonagall placing the Sorting Hat on a three-legged stool at the front of the Hall. The Hat began its song…
Rinna watched the Sorting with great interest, making silent bets with herself as to where each student would be placed. It was a good thing that gambling was not one of her vices; the Hat was not predictable, and there was no real rhyme or reason why it would take a long time to deliberate over one student, and yet almost instantly Sort another. Rinna sighed, ever so slightly annoyed that she could not puzzle out the Hat’s magic even after all these years, and began eating her meal that had appeared before her.
Rinna smiled a little wistfully at the beginning of term announcements, especially at the list of Filch’s newest forbidden objects. Were there really 437 of them now? She wondered what had ever happened to The Marauder’s Map that Filch had finally confiscated from Sirius and James. The corners of her mouth turned up as she nostalgically recalled the botched mission to try to retrieve it from Filch’s office that nearly cost her her Prefect Badge during sixth year. She probably should never tell Harry and company about that little adventure, seeing as she was supposed to be a good role model now.
Just as Dumbledore was about to announce that Hogwarts would be hosting the Triwizard Tournament this year, Alastor “Mad-Eye” Moody made his dramatic appearance. Rinna’s mouth pressed harder and harder into a thin line as she watched him limp his way to the Staff Table. As he sat down next to Dumbledore, Rinna took a deep breath and let it out. Here we go…
As the students thronged through the doors to the entrance hall after their dismissal to bed, Harry looked back to the Staff Table and caught Rinna’s eye. She smiled at him and nodded a silent goodnight. He managed a grin back at her before he was swept out into the hallway.
----- -----
Breakfast the next morning found Ron, Hermione and Harry going over their new class schedules. They did not have Defense Against the Dark Arts that day. The rustling of hundreds of wings caused Harry’s head to snap up as the morning owl post began. As usual, Neville Longbottom got a package from his grandmother; he was notorious for forgetting things. Harry frowned as a large eagle owl swooped low before depositing its hefty package in front of Draco Malfoy at the Slytherin table. No doubt it was an oversized tin of sweets and baked goods… spoiled git that he was.
Harry turned his attention to the Staff Table in time to see a barn owl deposit a letter and a long-stemmed crimson rose in front of the new Associate D.A.D.A. teacher. He grinned as his godmother turned a little pink, but mostly because others had taken notice of the delivery and the hall was filled with the sur-surring sound of whispers. Even in only half a day, speculation was running wild among the student body about Professor Dunlevy. Who was she? Why was she teaching in addition to Moody? How old was she? Was she married? (Although it seemed that the last two questions were mostly being asked by the male half of the students.) Harry smirked to himself; he liked possessing knowledge that others did not.
Breakfast ended, and the Trio made to exit the Great Hall to head for the Greenhouses. Harry felt Rinna’s gaze on him, and he grinned as he pointedly eyed the rose in her hands and raised his eyebrows. I know who that is from, his look seemed to convey. Her brows came together but the corners of her mouth quirked as she tried to contain her own grin. Her green eyes twinkled. He could almost hear her voice: Impertinent scamp!
----- -----
Rinna left her office with a look of satisfaction on her face. Her first day of classes with the Sixth and Seventh Years had gone well, and she actually was hungry for the first time that day, now that the nerves that had taken over her stomach had settled. She made her way to the stairs to the entrance hall, already hearing the voices of the many students queuing up for dinner. Rinna’s feet picked up their pace unbidden at the sound of Minerva McGonagall’s shriek, bringing her to the top of the marble staircase in time to see Mad-Eye Moody with his wand pointing at a snow-white ferret that was bouncing up and down on the stone floor.
Rinna had had the McGonagall Shriek directed at herself a few times in her life, and she almost, almost felt sorry for Moody when the Deputy Headmistress squawked, “Moody, is that a student?”
That is, until he answered, “Yep.”
Rinna quickly followed Professor McGonagall as the older witch ran down the steps and pointed her wand at the quivering little creature. With a snap, a disheveled Draco Malfoy appeared in a heap on the floor, blond hair in disarray, face red with humiliation. While McGonagall turned to harangue Moody, Rinna surreptitiously cast diagnostic charms over the boy as he got to his feet. She sighed in relief: no broken bones or serious injury, just bruises. And, by the look in his eyes, a bruised ego as well. Rinna sighed again, this time in frustration. Was Moody daft? This was no way to treat a student!
She didn’t learn till later that Draco, Ron and Harry had exchanged words, and Draco had made disparaging remarks about Molly Weasley before Harry had insulted Narcissa Malfoy, prompting Draco to fire a curse at Harry while Harry’s back was turned. While she agreed with Moody that it was a low, cowardly thing to do, she still took exception with how Mad-Eye had handled the situation.
The part of her brain that had gleefully taken on the role of “Professor” suggested that if young Malfoy could fire a curse at such close range and miss, then she or Moody or someone had better get these Fourth Years up to snuff with their aim. Then the “Godmother” portion of her mind mentally whapped her upside the head and huffily shrilled that shouldn’t she be a bit perturbed that the snotty offspring of Lucius Malfoy had tried to curse her godson? “Brilliant!” she muttered. “I’m here only one day, and I’m already having arguments with myself!”
------ -----
Harry and Ron were still grinning at the memory of Draco Malfoy, the amazing bouncing ferret when Hermione excused herself from the dinner table and made off for the library. Fred Weasley smoothly moved into the seat she had vacated and spoke softly to Harry and Ron.
“Had D.A.D.A. with the Jee-Em this afternoon,” he said conspiratorially.
“The ‘Jee-Em?’” Harry asked, confused.
George had taken the seat opposite his twin. “Yeah,” he huffed impatiently, “the Jee-Em. The Jee-Em.” At Harry and Ron’s blank stares he rolled his eyes and whispered, “Your godmother…”
“Oh!” Realization dawned on the two younger boys. “The G.M.! I get it,” Harry leaned forward. “Well?”
The older boys’ eyes met. “Excellent,” they summarized in unison.
“We’re going to cover silent spells, and wandless magic,” said George.
“And blood magic, and the Unforgivables,” added Fred.
Lee Jordan, best friend of Fred and George, sat down across from Harry. “You talking ‘bout Dunlevy’s class?” The other two nodded. “Merlin, it’s going to be brilliant! We’ve got to sit closer to the front, mates. I want to be able to watch those lips of hers move when she lectures.” Lee’s eyes became a little unfocused.
Fred leaned in and stage whispered, “Lee’s a little bit sweet on her, I’m afraid.”
Harry nearly choked on a bite of red potatoes. Ron slapped him heartily on the back while Lee looked at him curiously. “You all right, Harry?”
“Of course he is,” Fred assured him, tossing Harry a wicked leer. “He’s just a little sweet on her, too!” Harry began coughing again.
“Well, who could blame him?” Lee pointed out. “She’s a red-head. I think red-headed women are dead sexy, don’t you?”
George raked his hand through his own ginger hair and shook it out of his eyes. “All red-heads are dead sexy,” he pronounced.
By the time Harry had caught his breath, and the redness of his face had faded, the three Sixth Years were long gone.
----- -----
Footfalls echoed in the now-quiet hallways as Rinna began the last leg of her bedtime rounds. She wasn’t expecting too much trouble on the first full day anyway; she knew from experience that the first day of classes tended to be stressful, exciting, and tiring. The students didn’t usually start prowling about causing mischief until after the second or third day. Which was why she had volunteered for the first night of staff patrol. She snorted. Let Sinistra and Sprout think they bamboozled me into taking first patrol, she thought. I’ll use their little deception to my advantage later. And so, with a satisfied smirk and a little bit of a swagger, she made her way through the school.
She found herself stopping at a particular window that looked out onto the lake and the grounds. She reached into her robes and pulled out the letter that had come with the morning post, accompanied by a rose. Lighting her wand with a silent Lumos, she studied it again.
It wasn’t a letter, exactly. It was a drawing. Of a spot she remembered well.
The pencil on parchment was a fair rendering of a moonrise over Hogwarts’ lake, as seen from a particular vantage point in the air. The gibbous moon hung just above the hills, and spilled moonlight onto the water. She closed her eyes, and could see the real thing in her mind, with the light like liquid platinum on the lake’s surface until a tendril from the giant squid broke the smooth sheet of moonlight into a thousand tiny flickers.
She opened her eyes, and looked again at the drawing. Scrawled on the bottom corner, in familiar writing, was: Having trouble getting back to London. Have been sighted, I believe, and I have to lay low. To pass the time, I think of you, and how many times we basked in the moonlight and the stars in ‘our spot’ above the lake. Seemingly as an afterthought, the word over was scribbled at the very bottom.
She turned the parchment over.
Rinna,
I have recently received an owl from Remus. Congratulations on your new position at Hogwarts. I have no doubt that you will be a stellar teacher.
Harry wrote me a letter telling me his scar hurt one morning last week. This comes on the heels of some strange rumors I have heard (which I dare not write here), and I am very concerned. I believe that Dumbledore, too, is reading the signs, as he not only got Mad-Eye out of retirement, but has hired you. I feel better knowing that you will be at Hogwarts with Harry.
It is ironic, perhaps, that a few nights ago I drew this picture (which I didn’t really intend to give you but now it seems apropos), and now, when you get this letter, you will be almost at that very spot. I wonder if it is as beautiful as I remember it.
Evidently I am out of danger for now, so I am on the move once more. Which is why I can send you this note, and I suppose you will recognize the message of the rose. I’m not sure where I am going, since my original plan was to come back to see you. Apparently you’ve managed to run away again…
Yours,
Sirius
Melancholic. That was a good word for what she was feeling now. She looked up, out the window again, taking in a view she had seen many times, many years before, when she would sit in the window sill with her best friend and talk and giggle and dream. Now, in the quiet darkness, with the excitement and nerves of her first day teaching well behind her, Rinna felt as if all her breath had been stolen from her lungs as she realized that she had returned to the one place that held more memories of Lily and James, Remus, and Sirius, than any other spot on earth. Her heart quailed. Sweet Merlin, what the hell was I thinking?
She whirled around at the soft sound of a shoe scraping on stone. “I hope I didn’t startle you, Arinna,” the Headmaster said.
Rinna quickly put on a smile. “I was lost in thought, I’m afraid.”
Dumbledore nodded sagely. “I often find myself in that situation when I walk around the castle. There are so many places that bring back a memory or two…”
“I hadn’t really considered that. All the memories this old castle holds for me, I mean.” She glanced out over the darkened grounds of the school. “I suspect I will be finding myself in bittersweet reverie quite often.”
He considered her kindly. “And yet, it is the memories, be they joyful or poignant, that keep the ones we’ve lost alive in our hearts, is it not?”
Rinna turned to look out again, and the Headmaster joined her. They stood silently for several minutes before he spoke. “I wanted to congratulate you on an excellent first day.”
“Thank you,” she murmured.
He stepped away. “Goodnight, Arinna.”
“Goodnight, Albus.” Rinna remained at the window with her thoughts and reminiscences for a long time before retiring to her quarters.
The second day of classes had begun, and Rinna was pleased that her stomach no longer seemed tied in knots, making breakfast, and her morning classes, much more enjoyable. The mid-morning break afforded Rinna the opportunity she needed to obtain information from the Hogwarts Potions Master. She strolled into the dungeon classroom and looked around, literally spinning on her feet as she took in the changes. It certainly looked different from Slughorn’s classroom. Well, as different as a dank dungeon could, given the limited decorating opportunities afforded by such a setting…
She stopped mid-turn when she caught the mordant look on the Potions Professor’s face as he watched her from the desk in the front of the classroom. She studied him for a moment. “Hullo, Severus,” she offered.
Severus Snape stood up and made his way around the desk to stand in front of it, stiffly. “Hello, Arinna. May I assist you in some way?” he asked politely.
“I hope so,” she said, walking briskly to the front. She couldn’t help but flick her attention to a desk in the front row on the far right side.
Snape’s eyes followed the direction hers had gone, before he returned his gaze to her face. He smirked. “Waxing nostalgic, are we, Professor Dunlevy?”
His voice blurred her thoughts like a drop of oil smears ink on paper. She looked into his eyes, her face and voice devoid of expression. “I’m sure I don’t know what you are talking about,” she said smoothly. She held out a parchment in her hand. “I have the inventory of the potions store room, and I’ve marked off the ingredients I would like to use.” Snape took it from her and glanced at it. “Did the Headmaster inform you of my little project?” she wondered.
“Only that you had one you’d be working on.”
She nodded. “I’m wondering if you can tell me a reliable source for these ingredients, since they are not in the stores, or at least, not on the inventory.” She watched as his lips twitched slightly in annoyance at her implication that he had a private storeroom.
She was right, of course.
He looked at the new piece of parchment she had given him, and his eyebrows rose. “Just a ‘little project’ you say, Arinna?” he murmured mockingly. He watched her lips quirk into an ironic half-grin. Turning quickly from her rather fascinating mouth, he grabbed the quill from his desk and began marking her list. “You’ll want to get this, this and these,” marking as he went, “at Fenwethers, and the rest of these you should find at Darklings & Grimm. Knockturn Alley. They have the fairest prices and the purest ingredients.” He handed the list back to her. “That is what you wanted to know, isn’t it?”
She looked up at him and smiled her thanks. “Yes, actually. You have saved me the trouble of wandering around Knockturn Alley comparing prices and discerning cheats. Thank you.”
“If you want to go to the trouble of mentioning my name, I daresay you will find yourself with the proprietors themselves, and they will be disinclined to try to swindle you in any way.”
Her smile widened. “Brilliant. And again, thank you.” She turned to leave.
Snape took a few steps after her. “I read all your published articles. They were, no surprise to me, quite excellent.”
She turned to look at him, a closed expression on her face. “I only published one article…”
Snape crossed his arms and eyed her shrewdly. “What I meant to say was: I read the one you published under your given name.” He recognized the expression on her face from their school days. It was the one that she wore when she knew she was not going to like what was said next. “And I read the ones that came out earlier under your German and Chinese pseudonyms as well.” He watched as she opened her mouth to contradict him, interrupting impatiently, “Please, Arinna, do not do me the discourtesy of denying my conclusions when I know I am correct. I understand completely why you did not use your real name, at least not until you thought you had it right.”
She let out a long breath. “But I didn’t have it right, apparently,” she noted, a trace of bitterness coloring her words.
“Oh, but you did. The problem was that you were writing for idiots who wouldn’t recognize innovative potions work if it bit them on their sorry arses.”
Rinna made a rude noise. “That’s what Dumbledore said. Only he didn’t put it quite so, ah, colorfully.”
“Well then, in this particular instance, I will agree with the old man.” Another smirk threatened to turn up the corners of his mouth.
Curious, she asked, “How did you know, about the other articles I mean; how did you deduce they were mine?” Rinna was quiet as she waited for an answer, seeing that Snape was eyeing her astutely and appeared to be weighing how much he should say. She didn’t want to press the issue; they had been having a surprisingly civil conversation up until now.
When he finally spoke, she was momentarily distracted by the rich, persuasive quality of his voice. Apparently Severus had been one of those lads whose voice had continued to mellow and deepen even past puberty, because she sure didn’t remember it being that velvety when they had been in school…
“I wasn’t your potions partner for four years for naught, I’ll have you know,” he said dryly. “I recognized your work.”
“I see,” she nodded, accepting the explanation as sufficient. Then mischief flashed in her eyes. “A case of familiarity not just breeding contempt, but recognition as well?”
Again he fixed her with a disconcerting gaze before deciding to throw caution to the wind. Certainly their interaction so far had been courteous and polite, but he had promised himself that if he ever was given the opportunity to speak to her again, he would say to her what he’d wanted to the day he graduated from Hogwarts.
“I don’t think it was the familiarity that bred the contempt, you know. I believe it was your choice in lovers.” He watched as storm clouds of anger darkened her visage, and felt a pang that the unusual accord they had found in the last few minutes would now be lost. No matter, he told himself. He knew much better how to deal with her when she was in this kind of mood, anyway.
“So, we are back to this, are we?” she spat furiously.
He bore into her with his black, hawk-like eyes. “I could not understand how you deigned to give yourself to that git in the first place, but I’d hoped you would outgrow him. You deserved far better, you know. And then, I found out that you’d agreed to marry him!” His voice dripped with condescension. “For a smart girl, you were an idiot when it came to your heart.”
The look on her face and the tone in her voice was loaded with censure. “Are you quite through? Because you would do well, Snape, to avoid these extemporaneous speeches on subjects you know nothing about.” She lifted her chin defiantly. “You do not know who or what I did or did not deserve. And you certainly never earned the right to have any say in what I did with my life or who I gave my heart to!”
“Merlin’s balls!” Snape swore, pointing an accusing finger at her. “You are still in love with him, aren’t you? Even after all he did?”
“Sirius Black did not murder anyone,” she said with conviction.
Snape’s eyes widened in fury. “You believe that codswollop the werewolf told you? Or did you hear it from Potter and his friends? Tell me, Arinna, do you believe it so you can salve your conscience for being in love with a murderer?”
Rinna shot him a look of pure malevolence. “Tell me, Severus, does the Dark Mark you took for your Lord still burn your forearm?” Her eyes glittered as he unconsciously rubbed his left arm. “I could easily hold you in contempt for the decisions you made as a young idiot!”
They stood mirroring each other, legs apart, hands on hips, glaring daggers for several long minutes. Finally, Rinna let her hands and head drop, and she heaved a sigh. “You say you can’t understand the decisions I made, and I really cannot fathom the ones you did… but the thing is; they are in the past.” She looked up again. “And I, for one, intend to keep them there. We are just going to have to agree to disagree, I suppose, if we are to work together as colleagues now.”
Snape nodded slightly as his indignation drained away. “Not unlike our agreement when we worked together in potions class,” he commented quietly.
A ghost of a smile crossed her face. “Excellent point,” she conceded. She nodded to him, and turned to leave.
Once again he stopped her with his comment. “You once told me in a fit of pique… well, actually you said this on numerous occasions… but you told me that you were the best bloody potions partner I would ever have…”
She did not turn around, but her mouth crooked up at the memory. “I could be a bit arrogant at times,” she said ruefully.
“Well,” he drawled, his voice like honey fresh from the comb, “you were right.”
She nodded again, accepting the figurative olive branch he offered, and slipped out of the classroom.
The chapter was a little bit longer that 10K words, so I had to split it! This is not really a good place to end, but it was better than any other place... be sure to skip on to part two!
A New Definition of Family by RahNee
Chapter Notes: The chapter so chock-full of goodness it had to be split in two! Harry and company deal with a new school year, and with having his godmother as a professor. Rinna deals with old schoolmates and old memories...