"interconnected part 4" by gingerbred
Oct. 19th, 2021 09:03 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
Lavender Brown / Blaise Zabini, Hermione Granger / Severus Snape, Background: Theo Nott / Hestia Carrow, Ron Weasley / Demelza Robins, Harry Potter / Draco Malfoy
Staff: Irma Pince, Slytherin: Flora Carrow, Gryffindors: Parvati Patil, Fay Dunbar, Ritchie Coote
Mentioned briefly: Staff: Professor Flitwick, Slytherins: Draco Malfoy, Hestia Carrow, Gryffindors: Georgina Smith, Jack Sloper, Demelza Robins, Other: Fenrir Greyback
04 January, 1999. Lavender's first day as Prefect isn't turning out as expected. Fortunately for her, Hermione's start to her apprenticeship is going better.
Written with oodles of love for
mywitch and
erexen.
Originally Published: 2021-10-19 on LJ / DW
Words: 7.46 k
Rating: Mature
Characters: Lavender Brown (8G, no longer Ron's bit on the side (or anywhere else), she's begun seeing a certain Slytherin instead), Blaise Zabini (8S, highly intrigued by the duality of Lavender's nature), Hermione Granger (recent Hogwarts graduate and Transfiguration apprentice), Severus Snape (Deputy Headmaster, Head of Slytherin, Potions Master, and a great deal happier of late)
Staff: Irma Pince (Librarian Extraordinaire)
Slytherins: Theo Nott (8S, completely exhausted friend, Hestia's), Flora Carrow (7S, studious but sadly guilt-ridden twin)
Gryffindors: Ron Weasley (8G, Lavender's ex, ex-Keeper, presently seeing Demelza), Parvati "'Vati" Patil (8G, Lavender's best friend and roommate), Fay Dunbar (8G, Reserve Chaser), Ritchie Coote (7G, Beater, ex-Captain)
Mentioned briefly: Staff: Professor Flitwick (Head of Ravenclaw, Charms Professor), Slytherins: Draco Malfoy (8S, Captain, Seeker, Potter's), Hestia Carrow (7S, Chaser, Lycanthrope attack survivor, Theo's somewhat rabid other half), Gryffindors: Georgina Smith (8G, 'Fay's ginger friend'), Jack Sloper (7G, ex-Keeper, ex-teammate, newly re-instated to the team), Demelza Robbins (6G, Chaser, no longer Ron's bit on the side), Other: Fenrir Greyback (werewolf and monster)
The previouslies are very robust. If you've recently read the Christmas Spirit stories, skip them, if not, no worries, I've got you covered. You can find a links to the individual stories / chapters in the "christmas spirit index" (LJ / DW / AO3).
While fooling around with Hestia a couple of weeks ago, Theo forgets himself - and more crucially the Trace on his wand - and casts a Restraining Spell, the Aurors appear and try to arrest him. Adding insult to injury, the don't allow him to get dressed first, electing to parade him in the altogether past his Housemates instead. Mentioned in ACoCE 4b
Growing restless with the restrictions being a student entails, a situation exacerbated by her (at the time) unreciprocated infatuation with a certain member of staff, Hermione sits her N.E.W.T.s early and accepts a Transfiguration apprenticeship at the school. CS
Ron's attitude is posing something of an obstacle for his friends and sister as they try to move forward and heal in the wake of their losses the past year. (To be fair, he's still struggling with them, too.) Growing frustrated with his hypocrisy, Hermione calls him out rather publicly by mentioning Demelza's lipstick on his collar. Unfortunately this is how Lavender comes to realise Ron has been cheating on her, the situation only made worse by the fact it's Christmas Eve. When Ron is falsely accused of setting off Whiz-bangs in the school corridors, Lavender, both exceedingly hurt and eager to avoid the added joy of the public humiliation of being exposed as little more than his bit on the side, summarily fails to provide him with his alibi. Subsequently he's removed from the Gryffindor Quidditch team as part of his punishment. CS
Lavender and Blaise embark on a suitable arrangement, and with the notable exception of 'Vati (who'd guessed), decide to keep it to themselves for the moment. ACoCE
Quite by coincidence Severus establishes that Hermione had managed to offend Madam Malkin - how very like her - and as such her robes aren't as thoroughly charmed as he'd expect. Interconnected 1
Lavender completely surprises 'Vati with the news that she's been made the newest Gryffindor prefect. After all the interference 'Vati's run for Lav with the whole Ron thing, right up to oh so considerately rearranging their seats only moments before, she's less than pleased that her roommate hadn't chosen to share it with her, especially as she knows her parents will be disappointed. As luck would have it, Fay isn't best pleased to hear about the development either. Interconnected 1
Lavender has discovered a long forgotten class of Glamours that not only camouflage the damage the Lycanthrope had done to her, but that also help heal. ACoCE 1 After researching modifiers to suit his darker complexion she proceeds to teach it to Blaise. ACoCE 2 Surprised to find it does in fact have healing properties, something Glamours typically aren't known for, he in turn applies it to Hestia, who has also received a fair few scars from a werewolf. Interconnected 1 When they check the results at the end of the day, Theo and Flora are thrilled to discover it does actually help Hestia's scars, at least a little, and quite naturally want to learn more. Interconnected 2
Curfew is still in effect when Severus feels the disturbance to his wards. Disturbances were commonplace, the door to his quarters opened off the main corridor in and out of their section of the dungeons. No one could reach the Potions classroom or the Slytherin dorms without passing it, and as such there could literally be hundreds of such magical ripplings on any given day. He was more than accustomed to them and even the term 'disturbance', while technically accurate, suggested something of greater import than they were. It was no better or worse than the sensation of a brief draught, assuming the draught had the slightest electric quality about it, but this certainly wasn't unusual in and of itself. What was unusual was the hour, but with the eighth years at school, that had somewhat problematically become a more regular occurrence - Draco, for example, should be slinking home any time now, if the past few weeks were anything to go by - and what was unfortunate was the fact the disturbance stopped at his door.
Bollocks.
More so as Severus was currently in the shower. Sod's law practically demanded it.
He's already hastily rinsed the shampoo from his hair and is not surprised in the least when Hermione pokes her head into his bathroom soon after to let him know someone has knocked.
"Would you like me to get it?" She offers helpfully.
He shakes his head 'no' in answer, sending tiny water droplets flying, as he reaches for a towel. The way she nibbles her lip in suppressed pleasure at the sight of him has him cursing the fool students as he wraps it about his hips. His smile is nevertheless soft as he thanks her, adding a quick kiss in passing, and she marvels as he rather elegantly begins casting a small flurry of wandless spells. There's something to dry him off from the look of it, a Convesto soon has him dressed, eminently proper as always, a Depulso sends the towel whizzing back to its rack, something else sends his hair flying in a nimbus about him as yet a fourth charm dries his extremely fine hair - he curses again softly as he hears the witch trying to suppress her laugh - and finally he Summons his wand, before propping the door to the bedroom slightly ajar behind him as he makes his way to the front door.
Hermione thinks the speed and practice with which he completed the actions reveals quite a bit about how the past several years have been for him. She can recall disturbing Minerva late at night and finding her then Head of House in her bathrobe. Severus, by contrast, seems to prefer to prepare for every eventuality, and he'd done so in even less time than his colleague had required to don her robe.
Standing within the perception field that ensures he's visible to those outside of his quarters while prohibiting them from seeing the flat behind him, Severus swings the door open wide. It's no surprise to find Nott standing there; his wards alert him to the presence of certain individuals, the Slytherin prefects and eighth year boys chief amongst them. More surprising is the fact that the Carrow beside him appears to be Miss Flora Carrow as opposed to the Miss Hestia Carrow one might generally expect to see at his side.
Nott embarks on a series of explanations - to his credit in light of the topic only marginally less focused than his wont - the gist of which seems to be they feel they have a promising line on a new spell that might help treat what remains of the injuries his girlfriend had suffered at the hands, and teeth, of the lycanthrope. The two Slytherins would greatly appreciate passes for the Restricted Section so they can explore that lead further. The girl's twin stands there beside Nott, the very picture of misery as the young man elaborates.
Severus understands a thing or two about guilt.
It's a legitimate request, and it helps that he respects the fact they haven't asked for his - now largely retroactive - permission to have broken curfew. With another flick of his wand, he's soon provided them with the passes they'll require for the library and received their thanks in turn.
Nott as an eighth year doesn't strictly need permission to be out of the dorms at this hour. As a Slytherin, it won't stop the other Houses' prefects from a spot of harassment were he to encounter them - or a substantial portion of the staff, either, for that matter - but ultimately nothing will come of it. They're all too used to it and it's as near a non-issue as it can be at this point. Miss Carrow, on the other hand, could well be facing detention and most definitely the deduction of House points. The stubborn set to her jaw says she's aware of it and doesn't care. Or rather, she does care, she always has, but the guilt drives her harder. She sees no choice in this.
Ordinarily Severus is a strong proponent of letting the students learn their lessons, the hard way if need be. If they absolutely insist upon putting themselves above the rules, they should either face the consequences or learn the skills requisite to avoid them. It typically is just that simple for him. But this... this is something all too familiar.
He forgoes the completely unnecessary Tempus to belabour the point - they are all perfectly aware of the hour and the students' presence here was clearly carefully timed so their subsequent arrival at the library would coincide with the opening of its doors. With a sympathetic note to his tone, he addresses the witch, "Miss Carrow, you'd best take this," and unbidden he hands her a Hall Pass. A touch stiffly he adds, "It wouldn't do to see the House lose points for your early morning escapades." He knows human nature well enough to know that should allow them both to pretend it isn't something potentially embarrassing like an act of pity. Or kindness.
Nevertheless, the young woman still pinks a touch at the implied rebuke as she thanks him, another one of his Slytherins given to more open displays. To be fair, the past year and a half have been exceptionally difficult for the Carrow sisters. It would try anyone's reserve.
"Good luck," he wishes the pair quietly, mostly to himself. Rather obviously in a hurry, they're already halfway down the corridor before his door can close.
"Is everything alright?" Hermione asks when he comes to find her in the bedroom. He can't help noticing the witch has evidently foregone her morning shower in favour of charms of her own and stands there at the ready, fully dressed in her teaching robes should he have required her assistance. He appreciates the way she thinks.
Greatly.
He takes her in his arms and kisses her before replying, "A couple of students requiring passes for the library for some early morning swotting." The details of the results of Greyback's horrific attack on Hestia Carrow last year don't quite feel his to tell, certainly not idly in passing, nor is it a good way to start Hermione's first day of assistant teaching. Her spirits are high and he means to see they remain that way.
"Swotting! At this hour! You see, Severus, there's hope for the students yet," she grins.
"I'm more partial to former students," he assures her.
"Plural?" She teases.
"'Student'," he corrects. "'A'. 'A former student'."
She laughs and gifts him one of those generous smiles of hers that would have him reevaluating the importance of their presence at breakfast were he less responsible. As things stand, it still crosses his mind fleetingly. "I should certainly hope so," she nods, threading her fingers through his playfully.
"We've still some time, witch. Why don't we see to setting some of those Protective Charms on your robes before breakfast?" He offers. "I have a couple of books that touch on the subject," she laughs, because of course he does, which ruffles his veneer of self-evidence only very minutely, "Eventually we'll need to work a standing Impervius into the fabric, but I fear that will require more time than we have at present. But I'm sure we can at least apply a basic Protego in its stead, and perhaps a Self-straightening Charm before we leave. I think you'll appreciate the wandwork of the latter. It can be a mite fiddly if you don't wish to find yourself battling your robes upon removal..."
"Oh, I look forward to testing that with you this evening then. Rather thoroughly," she quips as she follows him into his study to find the aforementioned books.
He laughs, picturing it, and smiles at her warmly as he hands her the first of the relevant texts to skim.
Gryffindor eighth year girls' dorm
Fay is fuming, and none too silently. She'd been home for the holidays, like people with respectable families bloody well should be, and had come back to discover Lavender had apparently taken advantage of her absence to con McGonagall - the daft old cow - into making the chit a prefect. Lavender Brown, a prefect! And, as the witch had been only too kind to point out - publicly - thoroughly scotched Fay's career hopes in the process. That that might have more accurately been accomplished by Fay not taking the required number of courses escapes her as she pins all her hopes and ambitions on a position she couldn't have possibly known would be available in the first place and that after it's already gone again. That it might have made sense for an aspiring Auror to join the DA or to have helped her fellow students as they battled the Death Eaters also fails to occur to her, but then it's always easier to blame someone else for your shortcomings, and she's doing a great deal of that this morning and at volume.
Lavender has escaped into a protracted shower. It seems her current plan is to wait until Fay has left for breakfast to emerge from the bathroom. 'Vati is beginning to think it wasn't such a bad plan as Gryffindor plans go as she and Georgina continue getting ready mostly in silence while Fay's evidently never ending list of complaints rattles on.
"It isn't fair!" Fay argues for what must be the tenth time now. "We didn't even have a chance to lobby for the position. The least McGonagall could have done is waited until we'd returned from the hols," she tries to pull Georgina onto her side with the "we", but the redhead knows she'd never had the ghost of a chance. If there was going to be another prefect now that Hermione was graduated, she's perfectly certain it wasn't going to be her. But that doesn't mean she can't be a supportive friend. In suitable intervals she makes quiet noises of agreement, and unfortunately that seems to be all it takes to encourage Fay to keep going.
Ordinarily 'Vati wouldn't pay the brunette much mind, but just at the moment, some of the things she's saying seem to echo her own thoughts on the matter, at least a little. Sure, she'd been here over the hols, but she hadn't known the position was even up for grabs. She'd have applied if she had.
Probably.
Most likely.
No, she would have. Definitely.
All it takes is thinking of her parents' disappointment when they hear the news to convince her of that. She'd definitely have applied.
Presently standing in front of the wall of mirrors in the bathroom, Lavender can't help thinking that both her roommates are ignoring the fact that ordinarily no one applies for the position. Students are tapped for the role by staff and only very rarely refused. And if they'd asked, she would have told them she hadn't exactly applied either. Not technically. She'd simply pointed out there was a vacancy, and well fine, she may have explained why she was suited for the job. But that's hardly an application as such, now is it? She begins a particularly noisy hair drying charm - although in its favour, it doesn't leave one's hair lank as the faster ones tend to - in the hope of drowning out Fay's voice, glad she doesn't share a table with the witch at least.
Fay, definitely not some utter numpty, soon picks up on Parvati's commiseration. Purposefully, she begins addressing some of her comments to the girl directly. And if over the course of the day Fay (purely coincidentally) happens to make a bunch more of those remarks to Georgina within Parvati's earshot? Well she feels wronged, cheers. It's justified.
It starts small, because Parvati obviously isn't comfortable when she feels Fay's taken things too far, the Reserve Chaser catches on to that quickly enough. When Fay lays things on too thickly, Parvati gets defensive, even protective of Lavender, which the bint so doesn't deserve. But in moderation the objections definitely strike home, enough that when Fay and Georgina leave for breakfast, 'Vati finds herself tagging along, so as not to have to walk down to the Great Hall with Lavender.
Even as Gryffindor plans go, this probably wasn't great, 'Vati gets that. For one thing, thanks to her own re-arranging just yesterday - she'll be sitting next to Lav at breakfast and lunch and dinner, with no one likely to want to trade anymore, and of course all day long during classes, too, because they're taking every single one of them together. (That was sort of the lynchpin of her - completely internal - argument for why she should have been made prefect instead...) But on the other hand experience shows Lav will likely hold enough of a grudge for this small defection that 'Vati won't have to fuel this... thing herself. It's simply easier to be ignored than it is to do the ignoring. She's not sure if that's very decent of her... Eh, it's probably not. It's hardly courageous... Sort of passive aggressive, maybe? Well either way, it's the way things are, and it suits her mood. Ultimately she, too, feels she has a legitimate grievance here.
And naturally it doesn't hurt that Fay assures her she's right.
All of which helps explain why, when a somewhat elaborately coiffed Lavender finally does leave the comparative safety of the bathroom, she discovers their room is empty and she'll have to make her way to the Great Hall alone. Ordinarily that wouldn't matter, much, except on this particular morning certain individuals have staked out the portrait hole and are just waiting for her to make an appearance...
At least she's suitably styled for it.
The Library
Theo and Flora enter the library the moment the doors unlock, which always comes as a bit of a surprise as curfew all but guarantees it's a rare occurrence. Irma Pince sighs, feeling robbed of the opportunity to enjoy her second cup of tea in peace, but they're good students, she knows them both well, and most importantly: they treat her books with the proper respect. She finds Slytherins and Ravenclaws most often do.
"Good morning, Miss Carrow, Mr. Nott. How can I help you today?" She asks as she sets her teacup on her desk. If the counter didn't sufficiently hide it from sight, her Notice-Me-Not certainly would. She'd hate to give students ideas that eating or drinking here are in any way appropriate. Her spells will hold, theirs almost definitely will not. If she could Impervius the entire library, she would. As it is, she has to settle for applying the protective spell when the students remove books from her care. While it's generally adequate to the task, it doesn't pay to underestimate student idiocy or their propensity for carelessness.
Merlin.
The Slytherins present their passes to the Restricted Section and explain the purpose for their early morning visit, the Masking Spell they're attempting to research, and - making a series of discouraging noises - she leads the way to the shelves in question. "Coincidentally," or not, there are generally reasons these things come in waves, whether she's aware of them or not, "those books have been in demand lately." She shakes her head sympathetically. Miss Brown had been scouring the applicable texts for a modifier to a Charm only last week and borrowed very nearly everything she could on the subject. Irma feels relatively confident informing them they're unlikely to find much, if anything at all. "If memory serves..." and it doesn't take long to prove it does, "Ah, yes, here we are." An elaborate wave of her wand soon causes a number of gaps in the shelves to glow green, a sign the material most likely would have been useful but quite naturally isn't there. "Generally speaking the texts would need to be reasonably relevant to leave that sort of imprint, so that's disappointing..." For Theo and Flora naturally even more so, but they thank her politely for the effort nevertheless.
"Now, now, let's not throw in the towel quite so soon..." She comments over her shoulder as she prowls through the stacks, bringing her pointy nose so close to the shelves at times it's practically touching. Closer inspection reveals the faintest of glows the next shelf over, slightly more yellow than green this time, but she soon discovers it's the wrong text altogether. Something has clearly been misshelved. Clucking to herself rather primly in frustration - she undoubtably has Miss Brown to thank for this - she proceeds to reshelve the tome and then two more, another spell and a conscientious search eventually yields only one text that very obliquely references what they're after. Theo finally hands the book back to her, ruefully accepting it won't do the trick. That failure is regrettable, of course, obviously, and yet she can't quite quash the overriding feeling of satisfaction as she returns it to its proper place and the glow loses the green tinge entirely. As a librarian, one often has divergent priorities.
Tsking, Irma casts yet again, plunging their little section of the library in near complete darkness for a few moments. And there! A bit further down they can now make out another yellowish glow, dimmer yet, but once the librarian's Gloom and Doom Spell is lifted and they're able to safely retrieve the volume - the Restricted Section does pose its challenges - a brief perusal is all that's necessary to discover that it, too, proves wanting.
"That was probably to be expected given the faintness of the indicator," Irma allows, dissatisfied nevertheless. On the other hand, it would be quite an inconvenience if the results were too useful and they found themselves forced to darken the library regularly in order to find the books. If these weren't students she liked, and the library weren't otherwise empty, she'd never have attempted it at all given the unlikelihood it would have helped. Heavens, after this defeat, she's unlikely to try it again any time soon...
The children ask when they might be able to expect the other books to be returned - it will be some weeks yet - and a dejected Miss Carrow quietly fills out the reservation slips. Perhaps it's her evident disappointment, she's far from the most impassive of the Slytherins, or the fact their manners remain impeccable despite the frustrating results, but Irma soon finds herself mentioning that they could try asking Miss Brown if she'll be finished any sooner...
When the Gryffindor they're seeking finally deigns to step through the portrait hole, Theo drops his Notice-Me-Nott and he and Flora seem to materialise from nowhere, leaving Lav wondering how she'd missed them before. Pulling himself up to full height - Theo's grown exceptionally tall, and he's hoping he'll seem more imposing that way - they wordlessly circle the witch, their target perfectly clear.
After what feels like an absolute age his deep voice eventually breaks the silence, "Brown," making it equally clear that she's the reason for their sudden appearance here in case there'd still been any doubt, but then the Slytherins don't quite trust her powers of deductive reasoning. That's also the exact moment Lavender realises just how empty the corridors are, all because she'd elected to be deliberately late to the meal.
In retrospect it's possible it wasn't the very best of plans...
The Great Hall
The very nerve of some people! Lavender is in a fury. The way those Snakes just took the books right off her! The unbelievable cheek! She blows into the Great Hall only this side of a rage, and promptly refuses to give 'Vati a second glance. If her jealous so-called friend hadn't left her alone like that without so much as a word, that probably would never have happened. Fine, she'd found Nott sort of intimidating, and she's presently trying to cheer herself up a little about that by picturing the Aurors marching him starkers through the dungeons. Which was wrong, and incredibly rude, and probably just blatant prejudice on their parts, which she obviously knows something about after the werewolf attack, and she really, probably, shouldn't be picturing it - a naked and humiliated Nott - but she's too, too mad and it helps. Barely, but that's probably the best she can do right now.
The absolute gall!
The thing, of course, and easily half the reason for her mood, is there's no way those Snakes would have known anything about that Charm or that she had the books if Blaise hadn't told them. Evidently they've decided it's useful - and hadn't she said as much? - and that it's worth pursuing - which is just what she was doing, thank you kindly - and that it needed to be seen to by witches and wizards more competent...
Which...
Oof.
Gone as though Vanished is every last good feeling the prefecthood had provided and she's back to questioning her self-worth with a vengeance. She's making an exceptionally thorough job of it. Even when things were good with Ron (she glares at him across the table just at the thought), he still always thought Hermione was the more talented witch. Which, fine, she was the better student, but still. To have Blaise now effectively doing the same sort of thing...
When her anger begins to abate, it's seamlessly replaced with hurt.
Stubbornly she doesn't turn to look Blaise's way once, something the ever watchful Slytherin doesn't fail to notice. It wouldn't have been advantageous if she had, but he'd still considered it practically a given. This leaves him vaguely uneasy.
Making matters worse - it transpires that was in fact possible - Ron's begun sending charmed parchment aeroplanes back and forth with Demelza, the barmy cow, who keeps making googly eyes at him like some besotted Mooncalf of all things. And then he sits there, just mugging for the table, pretending for all the world he hasn't a care. Lav knows for a fact that isn't true.
And of course 'Vati is ignoring her now just as fiercely as she'd ignored her before.
Without the emotional buffer securing the prefect's position had initially provided, to say nothing of her bestfriend's obvious consideration and support, the whole situation with Ron starts getting to Lav in a way 'Vati had feared.
Today promises to be wretched.
Stabbing her food fiercely just considering it, Lav recalls that she has double Charms after breakfast. With Blaise. She means to give him a piece of her mind. Presupposing she has some to spare, of course... Well she'll just have to show him, won't she?
Ron has so had enough. Ritchie seems to have picked up where Seamus and Dean left off, brill, intent on driving him barkers with his nearly incessant Quidditch prattle. Bloody hell. Distraction is still Ron's solution of choice, unfortunately Ritchie seems less interested in Harry's... whatever than Seamus had been; presumably the fact they don't share a dorm and bathroom makes him less susceptible to that diversionary tactic.
So Ron chooses the next best thing.
If he were to hold one person responsible for his current miserable state, wands down it would have to be Lavender. Sure, he sort of gets that she had probably had a right to be upset; that maybe if he'd treated her better, this all would never have happened. (Or if Hermione had just kept her gob shut about Demelza's lippy on his collar... Whichever. Probably that.) And Merlin knows, Parvati had made it abundantly clear how Lavender had sat about sobbing much of Christmas day over the present she'd bought for him, but due to, er, circumstances had no longer felt like gifting him. (He couldn't help wondering what it was, which unquestionably wasn't at all the point of Parvati's story, but then Lav has never had the best of taste, hmm, so most likely it wasn't any great loss.)
Fundamentally, he understands the whole affair wasn't his finest moment - just the latest in a recent line of not so fine moments, in fact - and, yeah, on a good day he might put his hand up to cheating and cough to having instigated the situation, he kind of gets that, too... But today isn't a good day. All Lav had had to do was tell the truth, and he'd still be on the team, and Jack Sloper would still be just a seventh year nothing. That was it, just tell the truth, and instead she'd cherrily hung him out to dry. So, yeah, he doesn't mind getting a bit of his own back, and maybe he'd been a little more demonstrative with Demelza the past week and a half than he usually tended to be. (Which considering how demonstrative he'd been with Lav while he was trying to show Hermione he didn't need or want her is saying something.) But if he can stick it to Lav, even a little, while convincing Ritchie he's got more pressing things to do than talk Quidditch?
All the better.
Ron makes a huge display of writing a note to Demelza, which a charm soon sets sailing her way a few tables over. Demelza, reliable egg that she is, responds almost immediately, and Ron makes an even bigger show of his pleasure at receiving her reply, and so back and forth it goes. Ritchie is soon looking on with poorly concealed envy, Ron had calculated that about right. Since the Battle and the trio's victorious return, the ginger has apparently had no trouble at all with the lasses, from where Ritchie is sitting, anyway. (Ron would naturally beg to differ, particularly with an obviously seething Lav sitting at the same table.) But just at the moment, King Weasley seems to have Demelza eating right out of the palm of his hand. Ritchie quite obviously has no way of knowing the notes are simply arranging a bit of study time together later on - Ron's rather theatrical to-do about the aeroplanes all but ensures that - and of course neither does Lav.
So if she was sat there stewing before, her blood is definitely boiling by the time she leaves the Great Hall a little early for Charms.
'Vati sits there blinking after her, still not entirely sure this was quite the result she wanted to achieve, especially as she'll have to follow her soon enough.
Bugger.
The Charms Classroom
Blaise is the second student to enter the Charms classroom. Having noted Lavender's somewhat emotionally charged exit from breakfast, as well as the Weasel's antics, the knob, it seemed the prudent thing to do. He'd half expected to find her waiting for him outside the Great Hall, or in one of the alcoves along the way, or even before the classroom, and he's almost feeling a little disappointed by the time he enters the room that her ex can clearly still get so thoroughly under her skin, and that she also doesn't seem to feel the least need to bolster her spirits by talking to him. Fine, he's definitely disappointed and completely unprepared for her mood as he approaches his seat.
Face front and eyes glued to the dark panelling on the opposite wall, she's still stubbornly ignoring him, which finally succeeds in providing him with a small hint as to how she's feeling as he deposits his books at his spot at the table next to hers. Her demeanour should have been indicator enough; as it is, he fails to understand just how much of her anger is directed at him, and naturally he hasn't the least idea why.
"Full marks for subtlety," he needles her quietly - if unwisely - his voice pitched just low enough to hear as he stands almost idly beside his seat in the row between their benches, resolutely refusing to look at her either. Of course looking at her might have helped him better gauge her temper... "I'd say the lack of acknowledgment at breakfast was truly an impressive performance, softly softly and all that, except I have the sneaking suspicion you might be angry with me instead."
She turns on him, her eyes flashing, "Are you kidding me? Thanks a lot, Blaise!"
So much for subtlety. Before she can breathe another word, he's wandlessly flicked up the House Privacy Charm, a Notice-Me-Nott follows almost immediately after, and it's just as well as she unleashes holy hell on him.
She's embarked on a stream of accusations he's only half listening to as he stands there scanning their surroundings for signs of other students or old Flitwick, exceedingly grateful to discover they still have the room to themselves, particularly given the familiarity her attack suggests, but their solitude most assuredly won't last for long.
"I found the Charms, I did the research, and they just swoop in there and take the books off me like I'm some incompetent fool???"
Their classmates begin to trickle in and Blaise closes the gap between him and Lavender to make room for the others to get to their seats unhindered. It wouldn't do at all to have them walk into him as he stood there Cloaked. That rather obvious caveat notwithstanding, Theo's Notice-Me-Nott is superior to the original in that it doesn't just help those shielded by it avoid detection, it conveniently redirects any attention they may have received. People don't just fail to see them; whenever they look directly towards them, they forget they were even trying to locate them in the first place. It was a neat bit of magic, something Blaise considers himself lucky to have been taught, and luckier yet just at present, when it seems it will be very necessary indeed.
For the briefest of moments, unaware of the spells he's cast, registering the others' presence or maybe it's Blaise's proximity - most likely that - almost shakes Lav out of her tirade. Almost. But as he doesn't seem to pay their peers any mind, she certainly doesn't see any need to. She's angry enough not to care what they think anyway. Barely pausing to draw breath, she simply continues.
Merlin.
He can't recall ever being on the receiving end of a Gryffindor's ire.
It certainly made for a change.
Slytherins were definitely more inclined to be quiet about these sort of things. Ravenclaws as well from his experience...
Precautions seen to, he leans back against her desk and begins to listen to what the witch has to say.
It transpires that doesn't help his comprehension much.
"You could have asked if you wanted the texts," it seems there was some issue or another with the books dealing with the Glamour she'd taught him, "instead of sending Nott and Carrow to just grab them from me." He hasn't the slightest. "Never mind the perfectly abysmal manners on display," how very like a Moggie to want to ignore that, "it was incredibly insulting, too. It's not like any of you would ever have known they existed if I hadn't shown it to you in the first place. None of you ever even thought to look for them before, I was doing just fine researching it on my own, and there they go, just ripping them right out of my hands..."
"First off, Theo and 'ripping' doesn't sound right in the least..." He objects, failing utterly to recognise his roommate in any of the things she's been claiming. She pinks - surprisingly flattering really - which makes him feel like he may have that bit right at least.
Smirking ever so slightly, he presses the advantage, asking again, "They ripped the books out of your hands?"
Blushing rather furiously - he's trying not to picture how the colour surely extends down her chest underneath her robes - she finally admits, "Well, no, not exactly. They told me to go fetch them and I did."
"Well why did you do that then if you weren't ready to give them up?" He asks, genuinely confused by now.
Why? Because she thought it had been his idea is why. She'd been frankly dejected at the notion he thought that little of her and her skills, so when they asked for the books, sure, she'd complied, absolutely, without protest. But now that Blaise is perched there on her desk in front of her all sincere and concerned and a little bit smirky and definitely a lot sexy, she's having trouble explaining her reaction to herself. He obviously hadn't known his Housemates went to get the books from her, and he even more clearly hadn't sent them... The last thing she wants to do is attempt to explain this to him, but there's something vulnerable about her as she flounders. Reconciling that with her anger, and what he's coming to realise was a sense of betrayal...
Blaise finally gets the hint of a clue. "I didn't put them up to it," he assures her, taking her hand and giving it a soft squeeze, reassured in turn when she doesn't try to pull away. His confidence is further buoyed when she finally meets his eyes with a still wounded but clearly softening look. "I'll talk to them," he promises, and then leans in, evidently meaning to kiss her, and Lav panics.
They're in class.
Looking about, Flitwick has obviously long since begun the lesson, and the students around them are busy practising some charm or another. It's probably not a good sign that she has no idea what it is...
Blaise grins wickedly and discards his original plan to kiss her and then return to the lesson, instead he makes a predatory beeline for her neck and then shifts to her earlobe and soon has her squirming, trying desperately not to whimper.
"Blaise, someone will notice," she hisses. Her mortification is clear.
"I'm a wizard, remember? Trust me, Lavender."
He hasn't explained what he's done, the spells ensuring their privacy were cast silently and wandlessly, she has no way to gauge the efficacy of what he's used... She's clearly uncomfortable, quite, with the thought of getting caught - not exhibitionistic then, he'll try to avoid pushing that button moving forward - and yet she's willing to trust him completely...
That thought excites him almost more than he'd like, definitely more than any proclivity for exhibitionism ever has, and he has to be careful not to take things too far.
But Merlin is she tempting.
Blaise has a very different approach to what she's used to. Ron would have gone straight for her breasts, and sure she liked that he liked them, they are rather lovely, but she can't say it did a fraction for her of what this neck and ear nibbling does. She's growing extremely hot under her collar. She still can't help trying to keep her moans and squirms to a minimum, but he's right, though: not a single person once seems to notice them.
Despite her nervousness - definitely that - it's a heady experience. Blaise seems to know just what she likes, and yet he's able to - no, more importantly willing to - leave things as they are, to not press to take them further... She feels good in his arms.
And maybe more importantly, she feels safe.
By the time class is nearly over - time really does seem to fly when one's having fun - there's a glow to Lavender only an idiot could miss. 'Vati isn't an idiot. A reluctant but sensible Blaise retakes his seat and ends his Charms, and the two fade into sight as if they've always been there. Only someone actively looking for them with no memories of seeing them all class might question it or Lavender's now greatly simplified hairstyle.
That description also fits 'Vati quite nicely.
Curiosity getting the better of her, and it helps that 'Vati's spent all of double Charms without having to listen to Fay's whinging, she leans over and whispers in Lavender's still burning ear, "Should I ask where you two disappeared to?"
Pinking on top of her already rosy glow - which is sort of answer enough, but then 'Vati always has been one for the gory details - with Lav's Privacy Charms decidedly wanting, she regrettably fails to oblige, leaving her roommate feeling left out once more.
That's becoming a thing.
Belatedly it occurs to Blaise he'd intended to mess the Weasel about during the class. A quick glance is sufficient to determine that the ginger's having trouble with the material, too, his mind evidently elsewhere, and Blaise would have loved nothing more than to show him up right here and now, except - so strangely - he's even further behind having essentially missed almost all of the lesson. He'll need to see to catching up on the spellwork later.
Bugger.
Well it isn't precisely true to say he'd love nothing more. No, his morning had been undeniably better, and the Weasel's ridiculous aeroplane notes display notwithstanding, beyond a doubt he hadn't spent it anywhere near as pleasurably. Blaise can still see to his plan in Potions next period, and there's always double DADA this afternoon, which had the added bonus that Lavender would be there as well. They sit far enough apart in that class that he - probably - won't be tempted to fool around with her again. Who knows, with a bit of luck, there might be a chance to get in some practical experience trouncing the Weasel.
Often it suffices to whisper something suggestive in the presence of the instructor...
Staff: Irma Pince, Slytherin: Flora Carrow, Gryffindors: Parvati Patil, Fay Dunbar, Ritchie Coote
Mentioned briefly: Staff: Professor Flitwick, Slytherins: Draco Malfoy, Hestia Carrow, Gryffindors: Georgina Smith, Jack Sloper, Demelza Robins, Other: Fenrir Greyback
04 January, 1999. Lavender's first day as Prefect isn't turning out as expected. Fortunately for her, Hermione's start to her apprenticeship is going better.
Written with oodles of love for
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Originally Published: 2021-10-19 on LJ / DW
Words: 7.46 k
Rating: Mature
Characters: Lavender Brown (8G, no longer Ron's bit on the side (or anywhere else), she's begun seeing a certain Slytherin instead), Blaise Zabini (8S, highly intrigued by the duality of Lavender's nature), Hermione Granger (recent Hogwarts graduate and Transfiguration apprentice), Severus Snape (Deputy Headmaster, Head of Slytherin, Potions Master, and a great deal happier of late)
Staff: Irma Pince (Librarian Extraordinaire)
Slytherins: Theo Nott (8S, completely exhausted friend, Hestia's), Flora Carrow (7S, studious but sadly guilt-ridden twin)
Gryffindors: Ron Weasley (8G, Lavender's ex, ex-Keeper, presently seeing Demelza), Parvati "'Vati" Patil (8G, Lavender's best friend and roommate), Fay Dunbar (8G, Reserve Chaser), Ritchie Coote (7G, Beater, ex-Captain)
Mentioned briefly: Staff: Professor Flitwick (Head of Ravenclaw, Charms Professor), Slytherins: Draco Malfoy (8S, Captain, Seeker, Potter's), Hestia Carrow (7S, Chaser, Lycanthrope attack survivor, Theo's somewhat rabid other half), Gryffindors: Georgina Smith (8G, 'Fay's ginger friend'), Jack Sloper (7G, ex-Keeper, ex-teammate, newly re-instated to the team), Demelza Robbins (6G, Chaser, no longer Ron's bit on the side), Other: Fenrir Greyback (werewolf and monster)
Previously:
The previouslies are very robust. If you've recently read the Christmas Spirit stories, skip them, if not, no worries, I've got you covered. You can find a links to the individual stories / chapters in the "christmas spirit index" (LJ / DW / AO3).
While fooling around with Hestia a couple of weeks ago, Theo forgets himself - and more crucially the Trace on his wand - and casts a Restraining Spell, the Aurors appear and try to arrest him. Adding insult to injury, the don't allow him to get dressed first, electing to parade him in the altogether past his Housemates instead. Mentioned in ACoCE 4b
Growing restless with the restrictions being a student entails, a situation exacerbated by her (at the time) unreciprocated infatuation with a certain member of staff, Hermione sits her N.E.W.T.s early and accepts a Transfiguration apprenticeship at the school. CS
Ron's attitude is posing something of an obstacle for his friends and sister as they try to move forward and heal in the wake of their losses the past year. (To be fair, he's still struggling with them, too.) Growing frustrated with his hypocrisy, Hermione calls him out rather publicly by mentioning Demelza's lipstick on his collar. Unfortunately this is how Lavender comes to realise Ron has been cheating on her, the situation only made worse by the fact it's Christmas Eve. When Ron is falsely accused of setting off Whiz-bangs in the school corridors, Lavender, both exceedingly hurt and eager to avoid the added joy of the public humiliation of being exposed as little more than his bit on the side, summarily fails to provide him with his alibi. Subsequently he's removed from the Gryffindor Quidditch team as part of his punishment. CS
Lavender and Blaise embark on a suitable arrangement, and with the notable exception of 'Vati (who'd guessed), decide to keep it to themselves for the moment. ACoCE
Quite by coincidence Severus establishes that Hermione had managed to offend Madam Malkin - how very like her - and as such her robes aren't as thoroughly charmed as he'd expect. Interconnected 1
Lavender completely surprises 'Vati with the news that she's been made the newest Gryffindor prefect. After all the interference 'Vati's run for Lav with the whole Ron thing, right up to oh so considerately rearranging their seats only moments before, she's less than pleased that her roommate hadn't chosen to share it with her, especially as she knows her parents will be disappointed. As luck would have it, Fay isn't best pleased to hear about the development either. Interconnected 1
Lavender has discovered a long forgotten class of Glamours that not only camouflage the damage the Lycanthrope had done to her, but that also help heal. ACoCE 1 After researching modifiers to suit his darker complexion she proceeds to teach it to Blaise. ACoCE 2 Surprised to find it does in fact have healing properties, something Glamours typically aren't known for, he in turn applies it to Hestia, who has also received a fair few scars from a werewolf. Interconnected 1 When they check the results at the end of the day, Theo and Flora are thrilled to discover it does actually help Hestia's scars, at least a little, and quite naturally want to learn more. Interconnected 2
Monday, 04 January, 1999 - the start of the spring term
Severus' quartersCurfew is still in effect when Severus feels the disturbance to his wards. Disturbances were commonplace, the door to his quarters opened off the main corridor in and out of their section of the dungeons. No one could reach the Potions classroom or the Slytherin dorms without passing it, and as such there could literally be hundreds of such magical ripplings on any given day. He was more than accustomed to them and even the term 'disturbance', while technically accurate, suggested something of greater import than they were. It was no better or worse than the sensation of a brief draught, assuming the draught had the slightest electric quality about it, but this certainly wasn't unusual in and of itself. What was unusual was the hour, but with the eighth years at school, that had somewhat problematically become a more regular occurrence - Draco, for example, should be slinking home any time now, if the past few weeks were anything to go by - and what was unfortunate was the fact the disturbance stopped at his door.
Bollocks.
More so as Severus was currently in the shower. Sod's law practically demanded it.
He's already hastily rinsed the shampoo from his hair and is not surprised in the least when Hermione pokes her head into his bathroom soon after to let him know someone has knocked.
"Would you like me to get it?" She offers helpfully.
He shakes his head 'no' in answer, sending tiny water droplets flying, as he reaches for a towel. The way she nibbles her lip in suppressed pleasure at the sight of him has him cursing the fool students as he wraps it about his hips. His smile is nevertheless soft as he thanks her, adding a quick kiss in passing, and she marvels as he rather elegantly begins casting a small flurry of wandless spells. There's something to dry him off from the look of it, a Convesto soon has him dressed, eminently proper as always, a Depulso sends the towel whizzing back to its rack, something else sends his hair flying in a nimbus about him as yet a fourth charm dries his extremely fine hair - he curses again softly as he hears the witch trying to suppress her laugh - and finally he Summons his wand, before propping the door to the bedroom slightly ajar behind him as he makes his way to the front door.
Hermione thinks the speed and practice with which he completed the actions reveals quite a bit about how the past several years have been for him. She can recall disturbing Minerva late at night and finding her then Head of House in her bathrobe. Severus, by contrast, seems to prefer to prepare for every eventuality, and he'd done so in even less time than his colleague had required to don her robe.
Standing within the perception field that ensures he's visible to those outside of his quarters while prohibiting them from seeing the flat behind him, Severus swings the door open wide. It's no surprise to find Nott standing there; his wards alert him to the presence of certain individuals, the Slytherin prefects and eighth year boys chief amongst them. More surprising is the fact that the Carrow beside him appears to be Miss Flora Carrow as opposed to the Miss Hestia Carrow one might generally expect to see at his side.
Nott embarks on a series of explanations - to his credit in light of the topic only marginally less focused than his wont - the gist of which seems to be they feel they have a promising line on a new spell that might help treat what remains of the injuries his girlfriend had suffered at the hands, and teeth, of the lycanthrope. The two Slytherins would greatly appreciate passes for the Restricted Section so they can explore that lead further. The girl's twin stands there beside Nott, the very picture of misery as the young man elaborates.
Severus understands a thing or two about guilt.
It's a legitimate request, and it helps that he respects the fact they haven't asked for his - now largely retroactive - permission to have broken curfew. With another flick of his wand, he's soon provided them with the passes they'll require for the library and received their thanks in turn.
Nott as an eighth year doesn't strictly need permission to be out of the dorms at this hour. As a Slytherin, it won't stop the other Houses' prefects from a spot of harassment were he to encounter them - or a substantial portion of the staff, either, for that matter - but ultimately nothing will come of it. They're all too used to it and it's as near a non-issue as it can be at this point. Miss Carrow, on the other hand, could well be facing detention and most definitely the deduction of House points. The stubborn set to her jaw says she's aware of it and doesn't care. Or rather, she does care, she always has, but the guilt drives her harder. She sees no choice in this.
Ordinarily Severus is a strong proponent of letting the students learn their lessons, the hard way if need be. If they absolutely insist upon putting themselves above the rules, they should either face the consequences or learn the skills requisite to avoid them. It typically is just that simple for him. But this... this is something all too familiar.
He forgoes the completely unnecessary Tempus to belabour the point - they are all perfectly aware of the hour and the students' presence here was clearly carefully timed so their subsequent arrival at the library would coincide with the opening of its doors. With a sympathetic note to his tone, he addresses the witch, "Miss Carrow, you'd best take this," and unbidden he hands her a Hall Pass. A touch stiffly he adds, "It wouldn't do to see the House lose points for your early morning escapades." He knows human nature well enough to know that should allow them both to pretend it isn't something potentially embarrassing like an act of pity. Or kindness.
Nevertheless, the young woman still pinks a touch at the implied rebuke as she thanks him, another one of his Slytherins given to more open displays. To be fair, the past year and a half have been exceptionally difficult for the Carrow sisters. It would try anyone's reserve.
"Good luck," he wishes the pair quietly, mostly to himself. Rather obviously in a hurry, they're already halfway down the corridor before his door can close.
"Is everything alright?" Hermione asks when he comes to find her in the bedroom. He can't help noticing the witch has evidently foregone her morning shower in favour of charms of her own and stands there at the ready, fully dressed in her teaching robes should he have required her assistance. He appreciates the way she thinks.
Greatly.
He takes her in his arms and kisses her before replying, "A couple of students requiring passes for the library for some early morning swotting." The details of the results of Greyback's horrific attack on Hestia Carrow last year don't quite feel his to tell, certainly not idly in passing, nor is it a good way to start Hermione's first day of assistant teaching. Her spirits are high and he means to see they remain that way.
"Swotting! At this hour! You see, Severus, there's hope for the students yet," she grins.
"I'm more partial to former students," he assures her.
"Plural?" She teases.
"'Student'," he corrects. "'A'. 'A former student'."
She laughs and gifts him one of those generous smiles of hers that would have him reevaluating the importance of their presence at breakfast were he less responsible. As things stand, it still crosses his mind fleetingly. "I should certainly hope so," she nods, threading her fingers through his playfully.
"We've still some time, witch. Why don't we see to setting some of those Protective Charms on your robes before breakfast?" He offers. "I have a couple of books that touch on the subject," she laughs, because of course he does, which ruffles his veneer of self-evidence only very minutely, "Eventually we'll need to work a standing Impervius into the fabric, but I fear that will require more time than we have at present. But I'm sure we can at least apply a basic Protego in its stead, and perhaps a Self-straightening Charm before we leave. I think you'll appreciate the wandwork of the latter. It can be a mite fiddly if you don't wish to find yourself battling your robes upon removal..."
"Oh, I look forward to testing that with you this evening then. Rather thoroughly," she quips as she follows him into his study to find the aforementioned books.
He laughs, picturing it, and smiles at her warmly as he hands her the first of the relevant texts to skim.
Gryffindor eighth year girls' dorm
Fay is fuming, and none too silently. She'd been home for the holidays, like people with respectable families bloody well should be, and had come back to discover Lavender had apparently taken advantage of her absence to con McGonagall - the daft old cow - into making the chit a prefect. Lavender Brown, a prefect! And, as the witch had been only too kind to point out - publicly - thoroughly scotched Fay's career hopes in the process. That that might have more accurately been accomplished by Fay not taking the required number of courses escapes her as she pins all her hopes and ambitions on a position she couldn't have possibly known would be available in the first place and that after it's already gone again. That it might have made sense for an aspiring Auror to join the DA or to have helped her fellow students as they battled the Death Eaters also fails to occur to her, but then it's always easier to blame someone else for your shortcomings, and she's doing a great deal of that this morning and at volume.
Lavender has escaped into a protracted shower. It seems her current plan is to wait until Fay has left for breakfast to emerge from the bathroom. 'Vati is beginning to think it wasn't such a bad plan as Gryffindor plans go as she and Georgina continue getting ready mostly in silence while Fay's evidently never ending list of complaints rattles on.
"It isn't fair!" Fay argues for what must be the tenth time now. "We didn't even have a chance to lobby for the position. The least McGonagall could have done is waited until we'd returned from the hols," she tries to pull Georgina onto her side with the "we", but the redhead knows she'd never had the ghost of a chance. If there was going to be another prefect now that Hermione was graduated, she's perfectly certain it wasn't going to be her. But that doesn't mean she can't be a supportive friend. In suitable intervals she makes quiet noises of agreement, and unfortunately that seems to be all it takes to encourage Fay to keep going.
Ordinarily 'Vati wouldn't pay the brunette much mind, but just at the moment, some of the things she's saying seem to echo her own thoughts on the matter, at least a little. Sure, she'd been here over the hols, but she hadn't known the position was even up for grabs. She'd have applied if she had.
Probably.
Most likely.
No, she would have. Definitely.
All it takes is thinking of her parents' disappointment when they hear the news to convince her of that. She'd definitely have applied.
Presently standing in front of the wall of mirrors in the bathroom, Lavender can't help thinking that both her roommates are ignoring the fact that ordinarily no one applies for the position. Students are tapped for the role by staff and only very rarely refused. And if they'd asked, she would have told them she hadn't exactly applied either. Not technically. She'd simply pointed out there was a vacancy, and well fine, she may have explained why she was suited for the job. But that's hardly an application as such, now is it? She begins a particularly noisy hair drying charm - although in its favour, it doesn't leave one's hair lank as the faster ones tend to - in the hope of drowning out Fay's voice, glad she doesn't share a table with the witch at least.
Fay, definitely not some utter numpty, soon picks up on Parvati's commiseration. Purposefully, she begins addressing some of her comments to the girl directly. And if over the course of the day Fay (purely coincidentally) happens to make a bunch more of those remarks to Georgina within Parvati's earshot? Well she feels wronged, cheers. It's justified.
It starts small, because Parvati obviously isn't comfortable when she feels Fay's taken things too far, the Reserve Chaser catches on to that quickly enough. When Fay lays things on too thickly, Parvati gets defensive, even protective of Lavender, which the bint so doesn't deserve. But in moderation the objections definitely strike home, enough that when Fay and Georgina leave for breakfast, 'Vati finds herself tagging along, so as not to have to walk down to the Great Hall with Lavender.
Even as Gryffindor plans go, this probably wasn't great, 'Vati gets that. For one thing, thanks to her own re-arranging just yesterday - she'll be sitting next to Lav at breakfast and lunch and dinner, with no one likely to want to trade anymore, and of course all day long during classes, too, because they're taking every single one of them together. (That was sort of the lynchpin of her - completely internal - argument for why she should have been made prefect instead...) But on the other hand experience shows Lav will likely hold enough of a grudge for this small defection that 'Vati won't have to fuel this... thing herself. It's simply easier to be ignored than it is to do the ignoring. She's not sure if that's very decent of her... Eh, it's probably not. It's hardly courageous... Sort of passive aggressive, maybe? Well either way, it's the way things are, and it suits her mood. Ultimately she, too, feels she has a legitimate grievance here.
And naturally it doesn't hurt that Fay assures her she's right.
All of which helps explain why, when a somewhat elaborately coiffed Lavender finally does leave the comparative safety of the bathroom, she discovers their room is empty and she'll have to make her way to the Great Hall alone. Ordinarily that wouldn't matter, much, except on this particular morning certain individuals have staked out the portrait hole and are just waiting for her to make an appearance...
At least she's suitably styled for it.
The Library
Theo and Flora enter the library the moment the doors unlock, which always comes as a bit of a surprise as curfew all but guarantees it's a rare occurrence. Irma Pince sighs, feeling robbed of the opportunity to enjoy her second cup of tea in peace, but they're good students, she knows them both well, and most importantly: they treat her books with the proper respect. She finds Slytherins and Ravenclaws most often do.
"Good morning, Miss Carrow, Mr. Nott. How can I help you today?" She asks as she sets her teacup on her desk. If the counter didn't sufficiently hide it from sight, her Notice-Me-Not certainly would. She'd hate to give students ideas that eating or drinking here are in any way appropriate. Her spells will hold, theirs almost definitely will not. If she could Impervius the entire library, she would. As it is, she has to settle for applying the protective spell when the students remove books from her care. While it's generally adequate to the task, it doesn't pay to underestimate student idiocy or their propensity for carelessness.
Merlin.
The Slytherins present their passes to the Restricted Section and explain the purpose for their early morning visit, the Masking Spell they're attempting to research, and - making a series of discouraging noises - she leads the way to the shelves in question. "Coincidentally," or not, there are generally reasons these things come in waves, whether she's aware of them or not, "those books have been in demand lately." She shakes her head sympathetically. Miss Brown had been scouring the applicable texts for a modifier to a Charm only last week and borrowed very nearly everything she could on the subject. Irma feels relatively confident informing them they're unlikely to find much, if anything at all. "If memory serves..." and it doesn't take long to prove it does, "Ah, yes, here we are." An elaborate wave of her wand soon causes a number of gaps in the shelves to glow green, a sign the material most likely would have been useful but quite naturally isn't there. "Generally speaking the texts would need to be reasonably relevant to leave that sort of imprint, so that's disappointing..." For Theo and Flora naturally even more so, but they thank her politely for the effort nevertheless.
"Now, now, let's not throw in the towel quite so soon..." She comments over her shoulder as she prowls through the stacks, bringing her pointy nose so close to the shelves at times it's practically touching. Closer inspection reveals the faintest of glows the next shelf over, slightly more yellow than green this time, but she soon discovers it's the wrong text altogether. Something has clearly been misshelved. Clucking to herself rather primly in frustration - she undoubtably has Miss Brown to thank for this - she proceeds to reshelve the tome and then two more, another spell and a conscientious search eventually yields only one text that very obliquely references what they're after. Theo finally hands the book back to her, ruefully accepting it won't do the trick. That failure is regrettable, of course, obviously, and yet she can't quite quash the overriding feeling of satisfaction as she returns it to its proper place and the glow loses the green tinge entirely. As a librarian, one often has divergent priorities.
Tsking, Irma casts yet again, plunging their little section of the library in near complete darkness for a few moments. And there! A bit further down they can now make out another yellowish glow, dimmer yet, but once the librarian's Gloom and Doom Spell is lifted and they're able to safely retrieve the volume - the Restricted Section does pose its challenges - a brief perusal is all that's necessary to discover that it, too, proves wanting.
"That was probably to be expected given the faintness of the indicator," Irma allows, dissatisfied nevertheless. On the other hand, it would be quite an inconvenience if the results were too useful and they found themselves forced to darken the library regularly in order to find the books. If these weren't students she liked, and the library weren't otherwise empty, she'd never have attempted it at all given the unlikelihood it would have helped. Heavens, after this defeat, she's unlikely to try it again any time soon...
The children ask when they might be able to expect the other books to be returned - it will be some weeks yet - and a dejected Miss Carrow quietly fills out the reservation slips. Perhaps it's her evident disappointment, she's far from the most impassive of the Slytherins, or the fact their manners remain impeccable despite the frustrating results, but Irma soon finds herself mentioning that they could try asking Miss Brown if she'll be finished any sooner...
When the Gryffindor they're seeking finally deigns to step through the portrait hole, Theo drops his Notice-Me-Nott and he and Flora seem to materialise from nowhere, leaving Lav wondering how she'd missed them before. Pulling himself up to full height - Theo's grown exceptionally tall, and he's hoping he'll seem more imposing that way - they wordlessly circle the witch, their target perfectly clear.
After what feels like an absolute age his deep voice eventually breaks the silence, "Brown," making it equally clear that she's the reason for their sudden appearance here in case there'd still been any doubt, but then the Slytherins don't quite trust her powers of deductive reasoning. That's also the exact moment Lavender realises just how empty the corridors are, all because she'd elected to be deliberately late to the meal.
In retrospect it's possible it wasn't the very best of plans...
The Great Hall
The very nerve of some people! Lavender is in a fury. The way those Snakes just took the books right off her! The unbelievable cheek! She blows into the Great Hall only this side of a rage, and promptly refuses to give 'Vati a second glance. If her jealous so-called friend hadn't left her alone like that without so much as a word, that probably would never have happened. Fine, she'd found Nott sort of intimidating, and she's presently trying to cheer herself up a little about that by picturing the Aurors marching him starkers through the dungeons. Which was wrong, and incredibly rude, and probably just blatant prejudice on their parts, which she obviously knows something about after the werewolf attack, and she really, probably, shouldn't be picturing it - a naked and humiliated Nott - but she's too, too mad and it helps. Barely, but that's probably the best she can do right now.
The absolute gall!
The thing, of course, and easily half the reason for her mood, is there's no way those Snakes would have known anything about that Charm or that she had the books if Blaise hadn't told them. Evidently they've decided it's useful - and hadn't she said as much? - and that it's worth pursuing - which is just what she was doing, thank you kindly - and that it needed to be seen to by witches and wizards more competent...
Which...
Oof.
Gone as though Vanished is every last good feeling the prefecthood had provided and she's back to questioning her self-worth with a vengeance. She's making an exceptionally thorough job of it. Even when things were good with Ron (she glares at him across the table just at the thought), he still always thought Hermione was the more talented witch. Which, fine, she was the better student, but still. To have Blaise now effectively doing the same sort of thing...
When her anger begins to abate, it's seamlessly replaced with hurt.
Stubbornly she doesn't turn to look Blaise's way once, something the ever watchful Slytherin doesn't fail to notice. It wouldn't have been advantageous if she had, but he'd still considered it practically a given. This leaves him vaguely uneasy.
Making matters worse - it transpires that was in fact possible - Ron's begun sending charmed parchment aeroplanes back and forth with Demelza, the barmy cow, who keeps making googly eyes at him like some besotted Mooncalf of all things. And then he sits there, just mugging for the table, pretending for all the world he hasn't a care. Lav knows for a fact that isn't true.
And of course 'Vati is ignoring her now just as fiercely as she'd ignored her before.
Without the emotional buffer securing the prefect's position had initially provided, to say nothing of her bestfriend's obvious consideration and support, the whole situation with Ron starts getting to Lav in a way 'Vati had feared.
Today promises to be wretched.
Stabbing her food fiercely just considering it, Lav recalls that she has double Charms after breakfast. With Blaise. She means to give him a piece of her mind. Presupposing she has some to spare, of course... Well she'll just have to show him, won't she?
Ron has so had enough. Ritchie seems to have picked up where Seamus and Dean left off, brill, intent on driving him barkers with his nearly incessant Quidditch prattle. Bloody hell. Distraction is still Ron's solution of choice, unfortunately Ritchie seems less interested in Harry's... whatever than Seamus had been; presumably the fact they don't share a dorm and bathroom makes him less susceptible to that diversionary tactic.
So Ron chooses the next best thing.
If he were to hold one person responsible for his current miserable state, wands down it would have to be Lavender. Sure, he sort of gets that she had probably had a right to be upset; that maybe if he'd treated her better, this all would never have happened. (Or if Hermione had just kept her gob shut about Demelza's lippy on his collar... Whichever. Probably that.) And Merlin knows, Parvati had made it abundantly clear how Lavender had sat about sobbing much of Christmas day over the present she'd bought for him, but due to, er, circumstances had no longer felt like gifting him. (He couldn't help wondering what it was, which unquestionably wasn't at all the point of Parvati's story, but then Lav has never had the best of taste, hmm, so most likely it wasn't any great loss.)
Fundamentally, he understands the whole affair wasn't his finest moment - just the latest in a recent line of not so fine moments, in fact - and, yeah, on a good day he might put his hand up to cheating and cough to having instigated the situation, he kind of gets that, too... But today isn't a good day. All Lav had had to do was tell the truth, and he'd still be on the team, and Jack Sloper would still be just a seventh year nothing. That was it, just tell the truth, and instead she'd cherrily hung him out to dry. So, yeah, he doesn't mind getting a bit of his own back, and maybe he'd been a little more demonstrative with Demelza the past week and a half than he usually tended to be. (Which considering how demonstrative he'd been with Lav while he was trying to show Hermione he didn't need or want her is saying something.) But if he can stick it to Lav, even a little, while convincing Ritchie he's got more pressing things to do than talk Quidditch?
All the better.
Ron makes a huge display of writing a note to Demelza, which a charm soon sets sailing her way a few tables over. Demelza, reliable egg that she is, responds almost immediately, and Ron makes an even bigger show of his pleasure at receiving her reply, and so back and forth it goes. Ritchie is soon looking on with poorly concealed envy, Ron had calculated that about right. Since the Battle and the trio's victorious return, the ginger has apparently had no trouble at all with the lasses, from where Ritchie is sitting, anyway. (Ron would naturally beg to differ, particularly with an obviously seething Lav sitting at the same table.) But just at the moment, King Weasley seems to have Demelza eating right out of the palm of his hand. Ritchie quite obviously has no way of knowing the notes are simply arranging a bit of study time together later on - Ron's rather theatrical to-do about the aeroplanes all but ensures that - and of course neither does Lav.
So if she was sat there stewing before, her blood is definitely boiling by the time she leaves the Great Hall a little early for Charms.
'Vati sits there blinking after her, still not entirely sure this was quite the result she wanted to achieve, especially as she'll have to follow her soon enough.
Bugger.
The Charms Classroom
Blaise is the second student to enter the Charms classroom. Having noted Lavender's somewhat emotionally charged exit from breakfast, as well as the Weasel's antics, the knob, it seemed the prudent thing to do. He'd half expected to find her waiting for him outside the Great Hall, or in one of the alcoves along the way, or even before the classroom, and he's almost feeling a little disappointed by the time he enters the room that her ex can clearly still get so thoroughly under her skin, and that she also doesn't seem to feel the least need to bolster her spirits by talking to him. Fine, he's definitely disappointed and completely unprepared for her mood as he approaches his seat.
Face front and eyes glued to the dark panelling on the opposite wall, she's still stubbornly ignoring him, which finally succeeds in providing him with a small hint as to how she's feeling as he deposits his books at his spot at the table next to hers. Her demeanour should have been indicator enough; as it is, he fails to understand just how much of her anger is directed at him, and naturally he hasn't the least idea why.
"Full marks for subtlety," he needles her quietly - if unwisely - his voice pitched just low enough to hear as he stands almost idly beside his seat in the row between their benches, resolutely refusing to look at her either. Of course looking at her might have helped him better gauge her temper... "I'd say the lack of acknowledgment at breakfast was truly an impressive performance, softly softly and all that, except I have the sneaking suspicion you might be angry with me instead."
She turns on him, her eyes flashing, "Are you kidding me? Thanks a lot, Blaise!"
So much for subtlety. Before she can breathe another word, he's wandlessly flicked up the House Privacy Charm, a Notice-Me-Nott follows almost immediately after, and it's just as well as she unleashes holy hell on him.
She's embarked on a stream of accusations he's only half listening to as he stands there scanning their surroundings for signs of other students or old Flitwick, exceedingly grateful to discover they still have the room to themselves, particularly given the familiarity her attack suggests, but their solitude most assuredly won't last for long.
"I found the Charms, I did the research, and they just swoop in there and take the books off me like I'm some incompetent fool???"
Their classmates begin to trickle in and Blaise closes the gap between him and Lavender to make room for the others to get to their seats unhindered. It wouldn't do at all to have them walk into him as he stood there Cloaked. That rather obvious caveat notwithstanding, Theo's Notice-Me-Nott is superior to the original in that it doesn't just help those shielded by it avoid detection, it conveniently redirects any attention they may have received. People don't just fail to see them; whenever they look directly towards them, they forget they were even trying to locate them in the first place. It was a neat bit of magic, something Blaise considers himself lucky to have been taught, and luckier yet just at present, when it seems it will be very necessary indeed.
For the briefest of moments, unaware of the spells he's cast, registering the others' presence or maybe it's Blaise's proximity - most likely that - almost shakes Lav out of her tirade. Almost. But as he doesn't seem to pay their peers any mind, she certainly doesn't see any need to. She's angry enough not to care what they think anyway. Barely pausing to draw breath, she simply continues.
Merlin.
He can't recall ever being on the receiving end of a Gryffindor's ire.
It certainly made for a change.
Slytherins were definitely more inclined to be quiet about these sort of things. Ravenclaws as well from his experience...
Precautions seen to, he leans back against her desk and begins to listen to what the witch has to say.
It transpires that doesn't help his comprehension much.
"You could have asked if you wanted the texts," it seems there was some issue or another with the books dealing with the Glamour she'd taught him, "instead of sending Nott and Carrow to just grab them from me." He hasn't the slightest. "Never mind the perfectly abysmal manners on display," how very like a Moggie to want to ignore that, "it was incredibly insulting, too. It's not like any of you would ever have known they existed if I hadn't shown it to you in the first place. None of you ever even thought to look for them before, I was doing just fine researching it on my own, and there they go, just ripping them right out of my hands..."
"First off, Theo and 'ripping' doesn't sound right in the least..." He objects, failing utterly to recognise his roommate in any of the things she's been claiming. She pinks - surprisingly flattering really - which makes him feel like he may have that bit right at least.
Smirking ever so slightly, he presses the advantage, asking again, "They ripped the books out of your hands?"
Blushing rather furiously - he's trying not to picture how the colour surely extends down her chest underneath her robes - she finally admits, "Well, no, not exactly. They told me to go fetch them and I did."
"Well why did you do that then if you weren't ready to give them up?" He asks, genuinely confused by now.
Why? Because she thought it had been his idea is why. She'd been frankly dejected at the notion he thought that little of her and her skills, so when they asked for the books, sure, she'd complied, absolutely, without protest. But now that Blaise is perched there on her desk in front of her all sincere and concerned and a little bit smirky and definitely a lot sexy, she's having trouble explaining her reaction to herself. He obviously hadn't known his Housemates went to get the books from her, and he even more clearly hadn't sent them... The last thing she wants to do is attempt to explain this to him, but there's something vulnerable about her as she flounders. Reconciling that with her anger, and what he's coming to realise was a sense of betrayal...
Blaise finally gets the hint of a clue. "I didn't put them up to it," he assures her, taking her hand and giving it a soft squeeze, reassured in turn when she doesn't try to pull away. His confidence is further buoyed when she finally meets his eyes with a still wounded but clearly softening look. "I'll talk to them," he promises, and then leans in, evidently meaning to kiss her, and Lav panics.
They're in class.
Looking about, Flitwick has obviously long since begun the lesson, and the students around them are busy practising some charm or another. It's probably not a good sign that she has no idea what it is...
Blaise grins wickedly and discards his original plan to kiss her and then return to the lesson, instead he makes a predatory beeline for her neck and then shifts to her earlobe and soon has her squirming, trying desperately not to whimper.
"Blaise, someone will notice," she hisses. Her mortification is clear.
"I'm a wizard, remember? Trust me, Lavender."
He hasn't explained what he's done, the spells ensuring their privacy were cast silently and wandlessly, she has no way to gauge the efficacy of what he's used... She's clearly uncomfortable, quite, with the thought of getting caught - not exhibitionistic then, he'll try to avoid pushing that button moving forward - and yet she's willing to trust him completely...
That thought excites him almost more than he'd like, definitely more than any proclivity for exhibitionism ever has, and he has to be careful not to take things too far.
But Merlin is she tempting.
Blaise has a very different approach to what she's used to. Ron would have gone straight for her breasts, and sure she liked that he liked them, they are rather lovely, but she can't say it did a fraction for her of what this neck and ear nibbling does. She's growing extremely hot under her collar. She still can't help trying to keep her moans and squirms to a minimum, but he's right, though: not a single person once seems to notice them.
Despite her nervousness - definitely that - it's a heady experience. Blaise seems to know just what she likes, and yet he's able to - no, more importantly willing to - leave things as they are, to not press to take them further... She feels good in his arms.
And maybe more importantly, she feels safe.
By the time class is nearly over - time really does seem to fly when one's having fun - there's a glow to Lavender only an idiot could miss. 'Vati isn't an idiot. A reluctant but sensible Blaise retakes his seat and ends his Charms, and the two fade into sight as if they've always been there. Only someone actively looking for them with no memories of seeing them all class might question it or Lavender's now greatly simplified hairstyle.
That description also fits 'Vati quite nicely.
Curiosity getting the better of her, and it helps that 'Vati's spent all of double Charms without having to listen to Fay's whinging, she leans over and whispers in Lavender's still burning ear, "Should I ask where you two disappeared to?"
Pinking on top of her already rosy glow - which is sort of answer enough, but then 'Vati always has been one for the gory details - with Lav's Privacy Charms decidedly wanting, she regrettably fails to oblige, leaving her roommate feeling left out once more.
That's becoming a thing.
Belatedly it occurs to Blaise he'd intended to mess the Weasel about during the class. A quick glance is sufficient to determine that the ginger's having trouble with the material, too, his mind evidently elsewhere, and Blaise would have loved nothing more than to show him up right here and now, except - so strangely - he's even further behind having essentially missed almost all of the lesson. He'll need to see to catching up on the spellwork later.
Bugger.
Well it isn't precisely true to say he'd love nothing more. No, his morning had been undeniably better, and the Weasel's ridiculous aeroplane notes display notwithstanding, beyond a doubt he hadn't spent it anywhere near as pleasurably. Blaise can still see to his plan in Potions next period, and there's always double DADA this afternoon, which had the added bonus that Lavender would be there as well. They sit far enough apart in that class that he - probably - won't be tempted to fool around with her again. Who knows, with a bit of luck, there might be a chance to get in some practical experience trouncing the Weasel.
Often it suffices to whisper something suggestive in the presence of the instructor...
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Date: 2021-11-17 06:01 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2022-02-14 12:08 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2022-02-27 01:33 pm (UTC)