Ludere si cupias, aequos socios tibi quaeras.*
WALTHER
– Proverbia Sententiaeque
Narcissa
turned the page, pretty much oblivious to the turmoil around her. She disliked
the Common Room for all its commotion; she’d rather sit in the library or in
her dorm, but on evenings such as this, she had to content herself with the
noise and trouble instead. Students weren’t allowed in the library after
curfew, and the other girls were having quite a ball in their joint dorm.
Jeanie had brought a trunk load of new clothes from home and they were trying
them on while getting drunk on sweet liquor. De duobus malis minus est
eligendum.*
The book
was a Christmas gift from her father and utterly fascinating, at least for
someone like her. (in fact, it would have pleased the late author to see,
surely, with which vigour one of the twelve readers who’d actually purchased
the book, was devouring her lecture). Narcissa found Arithmancy thrilling, it
was her favourite subject after potion-making; in fact, and she devoured her
new lecture with utmost attention.
“Ehm…
Excuse me…” A shadow fell over the pages, and irritably she looked up. A skinny
First Year that she knew by sight from the library, was standing in front of
her, his face showing awkwardness mingled with curiosity. “Forgive me, but I
couldn’t help noticing your book…”
“Yes…?”
“This is
Wildsmith’s latest anthology, isn’t it?”
“It
certainly is,” she said in mild surprise. Only the worst Ravenclaw swots in her
year did know this author. It was very advanced, and she didn’t expect a
First Year to know as much as the author’s name.
“You see
– I’ve wondered – uhm… You see, this book is not available from the library… Yet
– well, at least that’s what I hope – that they’ll get it sooner or
later, I mean, and…” Scarlet crept up his sallow cheeks; he clasped his hands,
but didn’t appear capable to utter any other word.
“You mean
– are you telling me you wish to – what – borrow it from me?”
“Yes!” He
spluttered, obviously relieved, but his face only flushed more. “If it’s not
too much to ask, of course… I mean, I know how valuable it is, and you must be
very reluctant to –”
“No
problem. I’ve almost finished it, you know?” She was surprised with herself for
that statement. She wasn’t known for her niceness, and she had no wish to
change this. She found other people tiresome and dull, infinitely preferring to
be on her own, and consequently staying away from company. “But why the heck
are you even interested in this?”
The kid
was suddenly beaming, adapting an almost dreamy expression. “Oh, I’ve read
everything from Wildsmith that I could lay my hands on – which isn’t much,
sadly – very expensive, naturally –”
“And very
demanding to boot! You – you’re a First Year, aren’t you? Do you even comprehend
what you’re reading there?”
“Not
everything, no, of course. I have to look up a lot. But it also gives me hints
what else I have to read next and –”
“What’s
your name?”
There
must be no blood left in his body for it had all rushed up into his head. He
was purple by now, his voice becoming a mere whisper. “I’m Severus… Severus
Snape, Miss Black…”
She
tilted her head and took a closer look. Everything was odd about this boy, his
clothes for a start. They were worn-down, cheap cotton that was thin around the
elbows, not so much black but a washed-out dark grey. Unlike her dorm-mates,
Narcissa was no fashion expert, but she could tell for sure that those robes
must be more fifth- than second-hand. The next drawback was his appearance as
such. He was meagre to a degree that looked unhealthy, and ‘unhealthy’ was
written all over his face as well, which was gaunt and sallow, and ruled by a
very prominent hooked nose. Was he ill?
The next
weird thing was his address. Except their teachers, no one ever called
her ‘Miss Black’. ‘Black’, if people meant to be particularly polite, but most
of the time they were more rude, and creative in making up names for her.
Certainly, this boy couldn’t afford to be rude, because he was only a First
Year, because he wanted her to lend him that book, but still she was half
amused, half intrigued.
“Snape,
Snape… Are you American?”
“No,” he
whispered unhappily. “I’m from Birmingham.”
“Funny.
Never heard of a family by that name.”
“Yes… Of
course not… I – my – well –” He bit his lip, and for a second she feared that
he might pass out on the spot. He opened his eyes again, announcing more
boldly, “You could have heard my mother’s maiden name though – she’s a Prince,
of the Kidderminster Princes –”
“Ah, yes,
yes. So your grandfather is the Severus Prince, right? The
cauldron-maker?” He nodded feebly, and Narcissa suddenly got an unlikely idea.
“So your father is Muggleborn then?”
“No…” He
sounded deeply despairing, making her feel genuine pity. This was the oddest
thing so far – he was a Slytherin, and Slytherin House would only take
pureblood students. This boy was a half-blood, so he must have the other
Slytherin qualities in abundance, or he wouldn’t be here, right?
“Come on,
kid. You ought to keep your head up high. What’s a Muggle father when you’ve
got talent to make up?” All right, so this was like the feeblest comfort she
could have uttered. In Slytherin, pure ancestry was all that mattered,
at least in the eyes of the other students. Having Muggle parents must be an
awful drawback in each and every respect, for every child that’d call
themselves wizard or witch. But in Slytherin House, it was socially
unacceptable. Poor boy. What had that sordid hat thought, putting him here of
all places? Just to say something, she said, “My own cauldron was manufactured
by your grandfather, incidentally. That kind of quality is no longer available,
you know?”
He looked
confused, and indescribably grateful for so much praise. “So says my mum… But…”
She
couldn’t account for what she said next. Was it sheer pity, or a sense of
rebelliousness? In any case, she put on her best smile and said, “If you are
indeed interested in Arithmancy in general, I might have something for you,
Severus Snape.”
She told
him to wait, went to the dorm and fetched Mortimer Knightley’s anthology about
the influence of numerical mysticism on everyday matters. She returned, finding
the kid hadn’t moved an inch. “There you go. Here. Take it.” He clearly was too
petrified to stir, and she pushed the book into his hands. “It’s very
interesting, and they don’t have it in the library either. Something to pass
the time until I can give you this one.”
His gaze
alternated between the book and herself, thoroughly incredulous. “You – this –
thank you so much, Miss Black, I – I don’t know what to say, really, I –
I am –”
“Relax,
will you? Just take the frigging book and get lost.” She smiled once more. “And
tell me how you’ve liked it.”
‘Tell me
how you’ve liked it?!’ At first, Lucius had watched from the corner of his eye,
but after a minute, he had abandoned all caution and simply stared over. What the
hell was going on there?! Why was this positively ugly kid talking to
Narcissa Black there? And what was more – why hadn’t she just kicked his butt,
like she kicked everybody else’s?! But there – there – yes. She had got
up and marched away. Of course. The kid had looked as if he had been struck by
lightning. Well, he was a First Year, he’d have to learn things, starting with
the fact that one didn’t simply address Narcissa Black.
But what
was this? She came back? She handed him a book, and Lucius would have given a
lot if he could have read the title. One glance was enough to know that the kid
was an oddball, so what did he have to do with her? Imogene must have
had the same thought, for in this second she cried, “That’s fitting. He’s as
mad as she is.”
“She’s
not mad.”
“Oh, very
well. He is mad, and she’s just a haughty old cow. Still, don’t they
make a perfect couple?”
Lucius
merely shrugged. He would not discuss the subject of Narcissa Black with
anyone, least his present girlfriend. He wasn’t so much scared of trouble with
Imogene, but he would not acknowledge for the world that he had a soft spot for
her of all persons. He wasn’t keen on humiliating himself. He kept on
observing the two; the kid left after another minute, and under a pretext,
Lucius followed him to his dorm. Two other boys were there, lying on their beds
as well. The ugly kid was reading in Narcissa’s book, the other two were
playing chess. All three looked up in amazement when he entered.
“Bugger
off and don’t come back for the next half an hour.” He beckoned at the chess
players, and they obeyed without protest, but a visible amount of glee. The
ugly kid looked scared, and strangely resigned. They all probably believed that
Lucius was going to beat him up or something; some of the elder students did
those things with juniors. The impression must have got stronger because Lucius
hexed the door soundproof after the chess boys had disappeared. The kid
cautiously put his book away and made a gesture as if to say, ‘Go ahead, I’m
ready’.
“I’m not
going to harm you, keep cool. You –” He wondered what to say and narrowed his
eyes. He had noticed this boy before… “Aren’t you the kid who did that
incredible transformation curse on that Gryffindor last week?”
“Yes,
sir,” the kid muttered.
“Yes?
Well, I must say… That was pretty good for a First Year!”
“Thank
you, sir.” His uneven features reddened and he stared at a point somewhere in
the far corner of the room.
Lucius
didn’t get what was wrong with the child. He was being nice, wasn’t he?!
He had made it clear that he would not beat him, or curse him, he had
even made him something like a compliment about his skills – which hadn’t even
been a lie. If this was indeed the student who had performed that curse in the
Charms corridor, he was a diamond in the rough as far as talent was concerned!
He
cleared his throat, and indicated the huge pile of books on the boy’s bedside
table. “So – so you’re a reader, eh?”
“Yes, sir
–”
“And what
is it that you’ve been reading there?” He pointed at the book the kid had been
reading when Lucius had entered the room.
“That’s –
that’s not mine.”
“I know,
but that’s not the answer to my question, is it?”
“Oh, the
book! This is Mortimer Knightley’s anthology on numerical mysticism.”
That boy was
an odd number! “I take it you’re keen on Arithmancy then?”
“Yes,
sir.”
“But this
– you don’t have Arithmancy before your Third Year!”
“No, sir,
but I found it interesting nonetheless.”
“Aha…” He
had imagined something more exciting than this, honestly! Alas, he hadn’t come
to debate this weirdo’s choice of lecture. “So you’ve borrowed it? From
Narcissa Black?”
“Miss
Black was so kind to lend it to me, yes.”
“Miss
Black was so kind, oh yeah… Friend of yours?”
The boy
was briefly confused, but vigorously shook his head then. “Oh no, no. No, I
wouldn’t call it that.”
“So what would
you call it?”
“Tonight
was the first time that I’ve ever talked to her, sir. But she was very friendly
and obliging…”
Friendly
and obliging? Narcissa Black? Why would she be nice to this kid and
treat everybody else like dirt under her shoes?! “Was she? I see… So what did
you talk about?”
“About –
books…”
Boring.
On the other hand – perhaps Lucius should give it a try and talk to her about
books, too? Just that he didn’t have much to say on that score – he made a
mental note to ask his dorm-mate Damocles, he was the cleverest of their bunch.
Anyway… Maybe he should try to gain the boy’s trust? No harm. “I don’t think I
know your name, pal.”
“My name
is Severus, sir.”
“Severus,
right. I am Lucius Malfoy.”
“Yes,
sir, I know. Of course.”
“Quit
calling me ‘sir’, will you. Who are your folks then? Someone I should know?”
“No,
probably not. But I have heard about your family, naturally!”
Something
was really weird about that boy, about the way he was looking and
speaking, but Lucius couldn’t point his finger at it. It didn’t matter either.
What mattered here was that Narcissa had been kind and obliging
to him. Lucius on the other hand was clever and sly, and that he hadn’t got a
clue yet didn’t imply that he wouldn’t come up with some plot to exploit
this source.
* Si ludere... If you want to play, look for equal partners!
* De duobus... Of two evils, pick the lesser one. (Cicero, De
officiis)
*****
Useful Links: previous chapter, next chapter, Dramatis Personae
Keine Kommentare:
Kommentar veröffentlichen