The Heart Is Not Black or White

Chapter 22

The rest of the holidays went by fast after that. I was ordered to stay in the hospital wing until the start of term, but the Weasleys came to visit me often, especially Fred and George. Percy, George, and Ron were told that I had a bad flu, so only Fred knew the truth. I felt fine the rest of the Holidays, but felt myself shaking from time to time.

On Christmas I opened my presents with Fred and George in the infirmary. I got a new black dress from my parents and a silver necklace from my grandfather. It had a glimmering snake on it. I guess he heard that I had gotten into Slytherin. I was surprised that he had known. Of course, I got the usual sweater from Mrs. Weasley.

I spent the rest of the Holidays playing wizard chess with Fred and George. Most of the time I was beating them. No matter how annoying they could be, I loved spending time with the twins.

When term started again I began training lessons with Snape to help me learn to control the Manus Force. It was not encouraged that I used it, as it could be very destructive. Sometimes it was easy to contain it, sometimes it was tricky. It could take just a couple deep breaths to stop my shaking and the overflow of magic or sometimes I couldn't control it at all. At my first lesson with Snape, I had ended up braking half of his glass vials. He was not happy.

Although he wasn't very likable, I was starting to warm up to Professor Snape. He was a tough teacher, but wasn't that how a student should learn? How would I grow without a little challenge? When I wasn't doing well, Snape would push me harder. When I was successful, he would compliment me and from time to time let me out of the lesson early. Since we became acquainted during these lessons, Snape seemed to favor me even more in Potions. By the time the next Quidditch match rolled around, my lessons were reduced to three times a week for my great progress.

Unfortunately, I wouldn't be playing in the next match against Ravenclaw. Peregrine Derrick had recovered from that concussion to my dismay. Marcus Flint kept asking Madam Hooch if I could replace Lucian Bole, but she held true to the rule that no player well enough to participate in a Quidditch match may be swapped out. Lucian Bole did not play well in the next match, but Slytherin won, with Derrick picking up his slack.

The morning before the Gryffindor match against Hufflepuff, I was eating breakfast in the Great Hall with Daphne and Tracey like any other day. The two were still oblivious that I spent half the Holidays in the infirmary.

"Here comes Corvus," Daphne warned me.

Sure enough I caught him flying over our heads and a letter dropped from his talons, into my bowl of oatmeal. Ew. Picking it up by the dry corner, I wiped the oatmeal off with a napkin.

"Who's it from?" Tracey asked me.

"My parents," I answered.

The only people likely to send me owls were my parents and the Weasleys. If the Weasleys had sent me an owl they would have used Errol. And my grandfather was certainly not one to send me an owl.

My grandfather was a pureblood wizard. Everyone in my family was to my knowledge. Well, the only family I know is my mom, dad, and grandfather. My grandmother died ages ago. I wasn't even alive at the time of her death, so I never knew her. Those two were my mother's parents, and I knew no one from my father's side of the family.

Grandfather was a regular wizard. He attended Hogwarts, became an official at the Ministry of Magic in London, and married my grandmother, who gave birth to my mother. Then my grandmother died. My grandfather wanted nothing to do with magic after that.

He chose to live a muggle life. In order to hide himself, he fled to America. My parents never told me why he needed to hide, but ever since I had that conversation with Dumbledore I had begun to think he was hiding from Death Eaters. It only makes sense; they targeted muggle-borns and blood traitors. My grandfather was, by definition, a blood traitor.