The girl who had been attacked was Katie Bell, a member of the Gryffindor Quidditch team. No one knew where she had gotten the necklace that had caused her episode, though Sev disposed of the thing at once. Katie was kept in the hospital wing over night, but Madam Pomfrey had no idea what was wrong with her, so she was sent to St. Mungo's the following day. I heard Harry arguing with Ron and Hermione about whether or not Malfoy had been behind the attack, and I couldn't help thinking he might have been on to something.
Mostly, everyone became weary for several weeks, waiting for another attack, another sign that Voldemort was on the move. Sammy and I kept an eye out for something to happen...
… but nothing did.
After a week and a half, Katie Bell was old news. Things settled back to normal, and I guessed I was the only one who expected something bad to happen again very soon. Still, Quidditch continued without Katie. In fact, we won the match against Slytherin, mostly thanks to Ron's spectacular saves that were far beyond his ordinary standard. Hermione seemed slightly annoyed at Ron's brilliance, though I couldn't understand why. Then again, she'd never been much for Quidditch.
The afterparty itself wasn't fun for me. I was half frozen when we reached the common room. Ron and Lavender seemed to enjoy themselves, though- right in front of the entire House. I noticed Hermione leave, and Harry hurry after her. Since they had gone, so could I. I left the festivities and sank into deep sleep.
~ * ~
The weeks progressed rapidly, and it was Christmastime again. Twelve Christmas trees were set up by Hagrid in the Great Hall. Snow fell out on the grounds, and snowball fights became many second and third years' favorite pastime. Soon I found myself alone in Gryffindor Tower; everyone had gone home. Despite the emptiness, I was anything but lonely. Having the place to myself was a welcome break every year; I never went with Sammy at Christmastime, despite many invitations. I always managed to come up with an excuse. This year, I had a cold and didn't want to spread my germs. Of course, this wasn't exactly a lie, but colds were easily cured by the Pepperup Potion, which I got from Madam Pomfrey on the day that everyone left.
On Christmas Eve, I headed to the library, unable to think of anything else to do. When I arrived, I looked around, wondering if anyone else would be there. To my surprise, the Slytherin girl Valentine Scattergood was there, sitting at a table by the window, her nose stuck firmly in a book. I went toward her without thinking that she might not want a Gryffindor for company.
I sat down at the table and said, “Hi.”
Valentine looked up, and said, “Hello, Rose,” in a voice that wasn't friendly, but wasn't hostile either. She marked her place and looked at me with polite expectation.
“So, are you the only Slytherin staying back for Christmas?” I asked, seeking common ground. “I'm the only Gryffindor staying.”
She nodded, a little sadly. “I usually go home, but my aunt is in the hospital with dragon pox.”
“I'm sorry,” I said sympathetically, remembering the summer I had been afflicted with the same illness. I changed the subject; the less said about Dargon Pox, the better. “Don't you get bored, though? I mean, all your friends-”
“I don't have any,” said Valentine, looking at me with a tired smile. “Rose, I've always thought you were intelligent. Have you ever seen any of those kids with me? No. Most of them think I'm a freak, to be honest.”
I looked at her, indignant. She wasn't a freak. Maybe a bit on the negative side, but a freak? I didn't think so. “Why do they think you're a freak? I mean, you seem okay,” I said. It sounded lame, but it was true.
Valentine's smile became a bit less sarcastic. “I'm glad you think so. They don't like me because my parents were Muggles. They died when I was about seven, though, in a car crash. That's when I went to live with my father's sister, and she was a witch, so she explained everything to me. But, that doesn't change the fact that I'm a Mudblood,” she finished bitterly.
“Don't say that,” I said sharply. “I bet Malfoy and that Pansy girl said that to you, but you shouldn't listen to them! They don't know anything! Anyway, my parents died too, when I was a baby.” Then I had to get hold of myself, and remember the story I'd put out first year. “I don't even know who they were or how they died, but I wound up in an orphanage. Count yourself lucky, at least you had an aunt to take you in.”
Valentine looked slightly comforted and heartened by this. “I do count myself lucky, but not as often as I should.”
We sat quietly for a minute, and then I said, “Hermione's right. Pansy Parkinson is a total cow.”
Valentine nodded. “In first year, she called me a Mudblood, and I got really mad. I didn't shout at her, or anything, but I was so angry at her and the other girls for laughing at me that I made all the bed hangings catch fire. On accident, obviously. That was my first detention with Snape, and it was pure hell.”
I raised my eyebrows, and couldn't help feeling a little impressed. I'd never made anything catch fire before. I wondered what Snape made her do- then I started. It was the first time I had ever thought of Sev by his surname. Sev and Snape were two different people, in my mind. Snape was a hardened schoolteacher with a dark and hidden past, whereas Sev was the quiet, kind man who had raised and protected me from infancy.
Valentine and I talked for hours, and into dinner time. We sat together at the one long table in the Great Hall that was used during Christmas, where all the professors and the few students staying back sat together. When it was over, I waved goodbye to her, and a Ravenclaw boy gave me a funny look. I avoided him, and hurried to bed, glad to have found a new friend.
~ * ~
Christmas day was particularly uneventful. I received homemade fudge from Ms. Roberts, sugar quills from Tyler, a T-shirt from Sammy that said, “Accio Double-stuffed!” and a new copy of Julius Caesar from Sev.
The book surprised me. I was familiar with the play, and had been since I was about twelve. Sev had The Complete Works of William Shakespeare at Spinner's End, which was why it didn't follow that he would give a paperback copy of this play to me. Besides, I had never been fond of Julius Caesar, mostly because of all the death and betrayal; it was so depressing. So why did Sev give this to me?
I flipped through the play, and then came to a page where the corner had been folded down. I was straightening it, slightly annoyed, when I noticed that Sev had underlined a quote:
Not that I loved Caesar less, but that I loved Rome more.
What? I thought, staring at the page. Why had Sev underlined that quote, out of all of them? I retraced my steps through the storyline. Brutus and Caesar were best friends at the beginning of the play, but then Brutus got scared, because he thought that Caesar was too powerful. He even participated in Caesar's assassination. This was his speech to the crowd, justifying what he'd done. What was Sev trying to tell me?
I sat there, saying the words over and over in my head: Not that I loved Caesar less, but that I loved Rome more. After half an hour, I decided I was being stupid. Sev probably just liked that particular quote for some reason.
Still, it nagged at the back of my brain for the remainder of Christmas break, and in my dreams as well. I had many awful nightmares that involved Sev dressed as Brutus, standing over Caesar's dead body, shouting the words over and over. Caesar was always an old man, but his face never came in full view. I awoke from these terrible dreams shaking and sweating, and sometimes even crying for a reason I could never quite remember.
~ * ~
Sammy came back after the New Year, as did all of my other classmates. School resumed as usual, and the only new thing was Apparition lessons. A sign appeared in our common room announcing the date of the first lesson, and then two weeks later we all found ourselves herded into the Great Hall, which had been cleared of tables. Everyone was to stand five feet away from a hoop and will themselves into it.
Naturally, we all felt like idiots.
We did it once a week for about a month, though I didn't have much success. I lacked two things. The first was concentration: after ten minutes, I became so bored that I watched the progress of my classmates instead of attempting to make progress of my own.
I always saw the same thing, of course. Sammy was usually standing, squinting so hard at her hoop that her eyes were nearly shut, her fists clenched. Ron usually had a similar look, and Harry just stared blankly into space.
When Susan Bones did manage to Apparate, she didn't manage to get all of her body parts to her hoop intact. Her leg remained where she had been standing, and that lead to the instructor explaining in his bored, dry voice that splinching can sometimes happen if you aren't concentrating hard enough. This lead to my second obstacle: I didn't really want to Apparate in the first place. It was painful from what I had experienced with Dumbledore, and I definitely wanted to keep all my body parts in their normal state. So, the class turned out to be a waste of my time. Sammy did master it after three weeks, and I clapped loudest when she popped in her hoop, all of her limbs still attached to her body.
After four long weeks of these boring lessons that often left me with a headache, I was glad for the Hogsmeade weekend coming up in March. But, to my disappointment, I heard Ron bellowing that they had canceled the trip. Then I heard Harry say something about “what happened to Katie”. I felt a little chill when I remembered her flying up into the air, screaming at something that none of us could see. Sammy went white, and her brown eyes grew wide at the remembrance, always a danger sign, so I quickly directed the conversation toward her success at Apparition.
That weekend, I was in the library, working on a History of Magic essay, when someone sat down next to me. I looked up and saw Valentine Scattergood smiling at me. “Hi,” I said, smiling back. “So, sucks about the Hogsmeade weekend, huh?”
She shrugged. “I don't know what anyone else expected, but I thought they would have announced that a long time ago. I knew they'd be scared stiff after what happened to Katie. Then again, I don't know what they expect either. I mean, what are the odds that another student is attacked, especially after all this time?”
It was my turn to shrug, and I had opened my mouth to say something when a familiar drawling voice spoke from behind us. “So, neither of you worried at all?” said Draco Malfoy. We turned and saw him, flanked as usual by Crabbe and Goyle. Valentine glared at Malfoy so hard that he took a step backward.
“I wasn't expecting the Spanish Inquisition, were you?” I said to Valentine, though I continued glowering at Malfoy. “But then again, no one does.”
“I would watch my back if I were you,” Malfoy said coldly, ignoring my comment.
“Why?” said Valentine sharply.
“Katie Bell was a Mudblood, in case you weren't aware, Scattergood,” Malfoy shot back. “Just like you, a filthy Mudblood.”
I stood up, drawing my wand. “You'll regret that, Malfoy,” I said, not bothering to keep my voice at a library accepted volume. Malfoy just sneered.
“And you're as good as a Mudblood, Evans. Now that the Dark Lord has returned, all you scum will be dealt with.”
Valentine stood too, and narrowed her eyes. “That's funny, Malfoy. I thought only Death Eaters referred to Voldemort as the Dark Lord.”
Crabbe turned green; Goyle cracked his knuckles. Oddly, Malfoy didn't look worried at all by the name. “C'mon, you lot,” Malfoy said to his pet gorillas, and they left. I turned to Valentine, perplexed.
“Something's up with him. His head gets bigger every time I see him,” I said.
She shrugged. “Forget it Jake, it's Chinatown,” she grumbled.
That was when Lavender Brown ran past us, a pink blur. Parvati and Sammy were behind her, and Sammy turned to me, looking relieved. “Thank God I found you. You won't believe this! Ron Weasley was poisoned!”
The Other Potter by georgeisholey
Chapter Notes: Hey guys! Sorry this one took so long, I had to keep fixing it. I don't own Harry Potter, Monty Python, Chinatown, Julius Caesar, or The Long Winter, which, in my opinion, is the worst book in an already terrible/boring series. Don't tell my mother I said that, she'd flay me alive...
Chapter Endnotes: Honestly, I don't really like this chapter... I've re-written it completely twice, and I've edited about fifty more, but I just don't like it. Oh well. There's one in every family, sire. Two in mine, actually.
heehee:)