Certain Dark Things || Book Three

xxix. god-sister

November bled into December, and one dawn, the whole of Hogwarts woke to find the green hills beyond the castle grounds covered in a blanket of white.

The snow settled in, falling every passing morning and evening, and all too soon, a hard crust formed over the top of the lake. The forest creaked under the weight of ice, and more than one student ended up in the infirmary after falling down a slippery path. Harriet still ran outside on the track despite the cold and despite not being on the Quidditch team—avoiding the Slytherin players whenever she could.

She avoided most people outside of her friends these days. Since the last Quidditch game, no drama had occurred at Hogwarts, so chatter about Harriet's fall and subsequent dismissal from her team still popped up in the corridors or Great Hall. Harriet also kept her head down around Professor Slytherin, keen on escaping the wizard's expectant gaze whenever possible. Snape had been acting odd since he'd thrown Harriet from his office. He refused to look at her—not that Snape ever spent a lot of time doing that, but now his eyes pointedly skated over her table in the Potions classroom, and when Harriet raised her hand to ask or answer a question, he ignored it. She could only conclude that something she'd said in his office had deeply affected the wizard—but Harriet couldn't figure out what that something had been.

Maybe he lost someone to Voldemort, she thought. Maybe listening to me talk about how my mum died brought back bad memories for him.

Considerations of Snape and Slytherin aside, Harriet forced her mood to stay upbeat as the term's final Hogsmeade trip approached and her friends began to fret.

"We don't have to go," Hermione assured her. "We've already gone and seen it. Once was enough."

But Harriet urged them to go, just as she did for the previous trip, determined she wouldn't hold them back from having fun and getting their break from the castle. She promised she'd find Luna or Ginny while they were gone so she wouldn't be alone, but Harriet didn't mind having the time to herself and so didn't seek out her younger friends. While the rest of the school took the carriages down to the village, Harriet gathered Livi and headed out into the grounds, finding a spot on the lake's frozen shore. She practiced her Warming Charms as she sat there, feeling sorry for herself, watching the snow fall and melt.

"Snape's been acting weird," Harriet told Livi as the serpent dragged his belly through the sand, hissing in satisfaction. "Or, well, weirder, since he's always been an odd bloke. Most witches and wizards are odd, though. That's just a common thing." Sighing, she threw another Warming Charm toward the ground, and rills of steam issued from the drying sand. "I guess I shouldn't have told him about the Dementors."

Livi uncoiled and brought his nose to Harriet's, his eyes level with her own. "Bitter are the wordsss we asssk but do not want to know."

Harriet hummed and touched the gem on his head, tracing the smaller scales surrounding it. "Maybe. I think he lost somebody. I wonder what Snape hears when the Dementors come close?" It was an idle curiosity, the answer being too intensely private for Harriet to ever really consider asking the question. Concentrating, she waved her wand at the lake—or, more specifically, the ice—and applied Warming Charms until a small hole appeared. Livi flicked his tail in appreciation—spraying her with wet sand—and dipped into the cold, dark waters, vanishing out of sight.

Harriet's thoughts wandered to Snape again as she sat hunkered under her cloak, pressing her fingertips against a bruise on her red knee, watching the skin shift in color. She didn't know what to think of the Potions Master most of the time. He could be a right bastard, rude and snarky and just plain mean—but other times, he did things that contradicted his snide, cutting personality. Harriet got so caught up in things that she failed to think, but as more time went by, the more she remembered smaller details she didn't first consider. Like how Snape managed to get past the Moon Mirror into the Aerie and ran headlong into danger without missing a step. Or when Quirrell tried to kill her, and Snape was the first one through the door. Or when she was poisoned, and Snape was the one who shoved a bezoar down her throat.