Quidditch
It’s cold, unnaturally so, but I stay anyways, watching as the stars black out and reappear as the dementors drift across the sky searching for their prey. They’re terrifying creatures, strong and almost impossible to kill, I had been watching them for hours by the time Snape crept up the stairs.
“Miss Black, it is well past curfew.” He drawled, I turned to face where he stood at the top of the staircase.
“Miss Black?” I asked, quirking an eyebrow at him.
“Why do you insist on me calling you by your first name?”
I turn back around leaning against the railing and looking back out into the haunted skies, he pushes himself away from the stairs and comes to rest on the railing beside me. After a while I sigh, laughing self depreciatingly.
“Because no one else does, and it’s nice to be reminded who I am.”
I can feel his eyes boring into the side of my head, but I don’t turn this time.
“Sometimes I think they’ll come for me. They’ll just turn around, see me and attack. Perhaps they’ll see something no one else can.” I wonder, my thoughts spilling from my lips.
“What is it that you think they’ll see?”
“Madness.” I whisper. “I know my family, the ancient and noble house of Black. Blood puritans and murders, known for their madness. I know what Bellatrix did. I know what my father did.”
“You are not your father.” Snape snapped, as though the thought personally offended him.
“Aren’t I?” I question, finally turning to him, “I’ve killed too.” I hiss, and Snape turns away. “What I did to those muggles was not so different from what he did.”
It was quiet then, but the silence wasn’t the comfortable one I had known before in the potion masters presence. This one swallowed all the air until it felt like I was drowning. I stepped away and made to leave but Snape grabbed my arm and twisted me around to look back at him.
“You are nothing like your father, Dalia, your father was a sentimental child who whined about how bitterly unfair the world was, so he tormented others and charmed his way out of the consequences.”
“Are you saying I’m not charming.”
“I’m saying you are twice the person you father could have ever dreamed of being.”
I didn’t know what to do having been struck by Snapes sudden and profound declaration, I looked to the floor, tearing up.
“I’m still a murderer…” For a moment I thought he wouldn’t catch it, the words being so muffled. He did and took my hand between his own.
“You’re a survivor.”
I snatched my hand back and slung myself back over the railing. I hated it. ‘A survivor’. In the end I don’t think I wanted to survive, I wanted revenge, I wanted to bring back the family I lost, I wanted to never feel that weak and helpless again. Now I’ve escaped, the men who did this to me are dead, everyone else fears me, students jump out of my way when I walk down the hall but it still hurts. It always hurts.
“I hear there’s a quidditch match tomorrow.” I say, uncaring and still staring off into the distance.
“Indeed… Slytherin versus Gryffindor.” Snape said, jumping at the topic change.
“That sounds fun,” I said “their rivalry is legendary. Madame Pomfrey will be busy.”
“I’m sure she is already setting up for it, and I will be refereeing, I would hope it makes the dunderheads think twice before pulling one of their stunts.”
I can’t help but smile to myself, and turning to see Snape glaring down at me I can’t help it, I just burst into laughter.
“I can’t imagine you on a broom,” I wheeze as my laughter dies down, “Do you even know how to play quidditch?” I ask.
“What… Well of course I do!” His indignation did nothing to convince me. “I never played, but it’s putting a ball through a hoop how hard can it be?” He huffed.
“And you’re… Refereeing?” I question, disbelief lacing my voice. “You at least know the rules, right?” He did not answer, in fact he refused to look in my direction and stayed very quiet. Git.
“Oh. This I have to see.”
“You think you could do better?” He bites out.
“I’ve read up on it, I may have no skills on a broom but at least I know the rules.” I snap back, smiling. “Oh, but the weather tomorrow is supposed to be dreadful. I think I’ll skip it and listen to the students whine about Evil Professor Snape.”
“No, come.” He says, surprising both me and himself, by the looks of it. He straightens and clears his throat. “It would be a good learning opportunity.”
“I already know more than you.”
“Then take the opportunity to be social.” He snapped; I can just about stop myself from laughing again. He sees this and roughly turns, marching out the room with his cape sweeping behind him.
“I’ll be there.” I call after him, he pauses but does not turn back as he continues down the staircase.
Xx
A young Slytherin girl stood next to me in the stands, jumping up and down her hair drenched, cheering for our team. I sat, wrapped in as many layers as I could with an umbrella enchantment holding strong. It did nothing against the wind. Neither team was doing well, and the snitch was nowhere in sight. It felt like this game would last an eternity.
Eventually the girl fell down beside me, clearly over-worked by her excitement.
“It’s great isn’t it!” She grabbed onto my arm and shook it as she yelled, her voice barely making it over the rest of the cheering and the rain battering the stands. I glared at her enthusiasm.
“No.”
“No?!” She shouted incredulously, as if my dislike of the game was an attack on her person.
She shouted and yelled for quite some time after that, gesturing frantically to the players, it was when she attempted to manhandle me to the front of the stands that I lost control. The moment she attempted to drag me I had my wand digging into throat before I even realised it. The crowd of student around me gasped, several others having drawn their wands to, warning me to let the girl go. The girl herself was crying, shaking and crying. She looked just like…
I lowered my wand and stormed through the crowds just as one girl had shouted she was going to find a teacher. It was a Gryffindor, one of my brothers groupies. Only as I was about to trudge down the seven hundred steps to leave it happened. Hundreds of voices were screaming out but I just felt cold, memories jumping to the forefront of my mind. The pain, the fear, the desperation, it all came crashing down on me. I fell.
Xx
When I awoke I was in the hospital wing, a clatter of vials to the side of me and where I expected to see Madame Pomfrey I instead found the dark, looming figure of Professor Snape.
“Professor?” I ask watching as the man continues to fiddle with the different vials in his hands. His eyes dart around the room before settling back on me,
“Dalia.” He whispered, “How are you feeling?”
“I’ll live.” I say, taking the vial he hands over to me and gulping down the potion, it tasted surprisingly better than I had come to expect from the hospital wing stocks. Behind the Potions master a loud ruckus began as the crowd of students around one of the beds all try to speak with its occupant. Potter.
“What happened?”
“Dementors invaded the quidditch pitch, you passed out and fell down the staircase.” The man said glaring accusingly at me.
“I was right.” I said, falling back against the pillow beneath me. “The dementors weren’t-“ “You know nothing about quidditch.”
Snape gave me another half-hearted glare for that but after things went smoothly, I was allowed to leave as Snape continued to help out with the dozen students that had been brought to the hospital wing because of the panic. I glanced back, watching the man scold and snipe at the students, throwing around snarky remarks without a second thought and smiled. As soon as I noticed the smile it fell from my face. I could not like my teacher, in anyway. I know better.