Knowledge is Power

Chapter 25

Severus believed no student, especially in his own house, could truly surprise him. He believed himself to be jaded and to have seen it all...So when a fifth year Slytherin knocked at the door to his office Monday evening and said that one of the Prefects was upsetting everyone in the Slytherin common room with her singing, he rose with puzzlement along with annoyance in his heart. He and Nightshade were enjoying a snack at the time, so he gave the fifth year an annoyed frown as he regretfully left his turkey sandwich on the desk. Nightshade rode along on his shoulder, for once not under the chameleon spell due to them having been basically walked in on when the day was supposed to be over.

When they entered the common room, the fifth year pointed an accusing finger at Magritte Westcraven.
"Her lyrics are awful. Dark and twisted beyond belief and upsetting some of the younger students...and a few of the older ones," he said, obviously being one of those older ones.

Severus felt his brows rising at this, and he was unable to suppress a withering look of contempt even if the boy was in his own house. What could Mag possibly sing that was so bad? She hadn't looked up from her fiddle, so he stood listening rather than commenting in order to see what the fuss was about.

Her fiddle flowed between melodic and shrieking which he found oddly fascinating. The song was an old one he'd heard before about an insane asylum, but other than the chorus, he'd truly never paid attention to the words...until now. Mag's voice was clear and high, commanding attention and full of power. In spite of the dark tone, one's feet wanted to dance...If one happened to be Severus, however, one did not feel one danced well at all, so one remained completely still instead as Mag sang.

For to see mad Tom of Bedlam, 10,000 miles I'd travel
Mad Maudlin goes on dirty toes, to save her shoes from gravel.
Still I sing bonnie boys, bonnie mad boys,
Bedlam boys are bonnie
For they all go bare and they live by the air,
And they want no drink nor money.
I went down to Satan's kitchen, for to beg me food one morning
There I got souls piping hot, all on the spit a turning.
There I picked up a cauldron, Where boiled 10,000 harlots
Though full of flame I drank the same, to the health of all such varlets.
My staff has murdered giants, my bag a long knife carries
For to cut mince pies from children's thighs, with which to feed the fairies.
Spirits white as lightning, shall on my travels guide me
The moon would quake and the stars would shake, when' ere they espied me.
No gypsy slut nor doxy, shall win my Mad Tom from me
I'll weep all night, the stars I'll fight, the fray will well become me.
It's when next I have murdered, the Man-In-The-Moon to powder
His staff I'll break, his dog I'll bake, they'll howl no demon louder.
So...

And here Severus made himself step forward to interrupt the song, though in truth he was reluctant to do so.
"Miss WestCraven...While I feel you're doing a grand job, and that you could make a living performing in any darker style tavern if ever you take a mind to, you are frightening the children."

His discomfort rose as Mag's cheeks flushed with anger or indignation or...gods he hoped it wasn't embarrassment. HE knew well what it was to be made a target of, and didn't want the girl to feel uncomfortable when she wasn't the problem. He hadn't ever been the problem either, and it wasn't right for one to be made to feel in the wrong simply because one was darker and fools were frightened. It was a shock to him that in this case even Slytherins were frightened of some song lyrics, but many of the younger children and indeed some of the older ones did look truly shaken to the core for whatever reason.

//Wow what little bitches,// Nightshade thought.
The owl sent off mental waves of affronted shock and Severus related.
//Indeed.//
The situation was truly not one he'd been expecting.

"I didn't write the bloody song," Mag said in a shocked tone.
"It's an old English song."
Severus nodded.
"I am aware."

//Nightshade! Please tell her that I don't have a problem and that I am as baffled as she. Tell her...tell her that it's a very nice song.//
//Ah,// Nightshade thought back.
//I'm touched...sort of....and I just told her...She's cool.//
//Thank you,// Severus replied, relieved.
Mag stood, bending to slip the gleaming red fiddle into it's case.
"I'll just go out side and sing there," she said quietly, giving a shrug.