Severus, Redux: Chapter Nineteen
(In which there is a reconciliation in the library, and Hermione attempts to research Damian Vector.)
"Haven't you ever got mad and said or behaved in a way you wish you hadn't? I'm sorry." Her words rolled around in his mind throughout lunch, haunting him. He ate mechanically, not really paying attention to what he was eating or the other students around him. Which was just as well, really, since most of them were not that interested in paying attention to him.
He was now, as he had always been, a bit too everything. He had expected a bit more acceptance from Ravenclaw, considering what their house stood for. It turned out they viewed scholarly dedication and intelligence the basic requirements of their house, but the social ladder still hinged, for the most part, on one's level of attractiveness and charisma.
Coming down the stairs from the dorms, he had overheard a girl in the common room this morning talking about how he was "just as greasy" as his uncle. The other girl had agreed that he wasn't very attractive, and that he gave her "the creeps."
Not that he cared. Because he didn't.
Severus cut the pork in front of him into precise cubes, taking a level of odd comfort in the uniform shape and slicing motion. It was like cutting potion components. He noticed Marietta staring at his motions with an odd expression on her face, as if she were wondering if he had become unhinged. He decided not to care and continued to cut even little cubes. It was something to focus on that wasn't Hermione's damning parting words.
Yes, he had been angry and blurted something he wished he hadn't. It had destroyed his friendship with Lily, even though he had turned himself into a laughingstock to try to apologise. Somehow, the exact words had tumbled out of Hermione's mouth to make him wonder if he had made the right decision. It was almost like she knew.
A suspicious sort of person might suspect someone had told her. Severus shot a flinty look from the corner of his eyes to the head table. His elder version was looking at the scarf -draped professor sitting to his right with distaste as she actually dropped a forkful of mushy peas into her wine goblet.
Severus scowled at his evenly diced pork. No, his elder self didn't even seem to like Hermione. The day he had called Lily a Mudblood was one of his most embarrassing regrets. His adult self would not have shared that with her. The truth was that perhaps he and Hermione were more alike than he would have preferred to admit. He, too, had believed that Hogwarts would give him a place to fit in, and he, too, had been disappointed on that front.
Strangely enough, even after their altercations, she still wanted to be friends. He supposed he could relate to that. Idly he wondered if she wanted it enough that she would be willing to sleep outside his dorm as he had with Lily, and then felt a bit guilty for wanting that. Surreptitiously, he glanced at her, a table over. She was sitting hunched over her plate next to the redheaded girl, chewing her own food and…reading. He tried not to smile as he realized she had a book flat on the table where her plate should be, and that her actual lunch had been shoved to the vicinity of where one's glass customarily went.
Potter and Weasley appeared to be pointedly ignoring her. Severus sent a small jinx towards Potter, more to see if he could get away with it than anything else. It was the equivalent of flicking his ear, and the other boy rubbed it with a small grimace, then glared at Hermione. Oops. He hadn't meant to shift the blame to her.
As if she could hear him thinking about her, she looked up suddenly, and their eyes locked. Severus bore the connection for a moment, then uneasily, he gathered his things to go, leaving what was left of his dinner behind. He had a free period next; some quiet time in the library was exactly what was needed to sort his thoughts.
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, 03 September 1996, 1:06 PM
Breezy chatter that only barely met the volume expectation of the library suddenly assailed Severus, and he glanced up from his Arithmancy textbook in annoyance. His glance was met with books thunking down across from him. In short order the chatty Weasley girl and her blonde friend-from his own house he saw-were seated at his table.
He cleared his throat and the blonde fastened her gaze on him expectantly. She was both familiar and not. He had the distinct and uncomfortable feeling that they'd met before, but he couldn't remember where. She smiled at him and opened a potions book, flipping several pages in.
"What do you want?" Severus asked, an edge in his voice. He noticed that his shoulders were hunched defensively, and straightened them.
The redhead-Ginny, that was her name-looked at him in surprise. "What do you mean? You're going out with one of our best friends, and Luna's in your house and my year. We always sit at Hermione's table, and you said you were good at potions. I need help with the- "
"This isn't Hermione's table. It's my table." Severus cut off her prattling response.
"Well it's not her usual table, but why wouldn't she sit with you?"
"Because we're not going out." Severus replied shortly.
The blonde continued to read placidly, mouthing the Latin incantations to herself as she came across them.
“Wait. You…you’re not?” Ginny seemed dumbfounded. “Hermione said you were only yesterday. Ugh, it’s so hard to keep up with these things, here.” Ginny started piling up her books quickly and stuffing them in her bag. “C’mon Luna. Look, no offence, Prince, but we can’t be seen at your table now.” Ginny gave him an apologetic grimace. “Hermione’s already in trouble with Harry and my brother, and she’s not exactly close with the girls in her year. We’re her best friends, and we kind of have to be on her side, even if we don’t know what happened.” She shrugged. “Luna?”
The blonde glanced up at her friend, and then over at Severus. “I think I will stay,” she said softly. “Class starts in a few minutes, anyway.”
Ginny nodded, and quickly walked over to the next table, unpacking her things again with quick efficiency. In moments she was lounging in a chair at the other table as if she had always been there.
Luna returned to her Charms book, apparently unconcerned with the world around her and what social cues might or might not pertain to her. That was…refreshing, honestly. It was a bit unfortunate she had Charms in just a bit. Severus had a free period next, followed by Potions, and her presence at the table was oddly peaceful instead of disturbing.
Shaking his head, Severus pulled out his sixth-year Potions book, checked the inside to see if it had changed in the last twenty years and frowned at it in disappointment. He had been looking forward to learning Potions from himself, but it seemed that fate had decreed that his Potions education was firmly in the hands of Slughorn. Severus sighed, and started to read ahead, going over the potions and jotting notes about various components he had not previously worked with, intending to look them up and their properties individually.
Severus had been finding subtle ways to improve on most of the potions in the textbooks for the last couple of years. It would have been nice to have been challenged. Professor Slughorn taught students to follow potion recipes without actually explaining what they did and how they reacted--it was the primary reason he had been looking forward to learning from himself instead.
If a students didn’t learn the theory how could they possibly understand whether they were making a mistake, or how to improve on it? That wasn’t learning Potions-that was learning how to follow directions. Admittedly, that was a lesson more people could use, but it shouldn’t be at the expense of learning the subtle nuances of Potions.
Absently, Severus licked a finger and turned the page, barely noticing when Luna packed her things and left. The noise level elevated in the background as students came and went between classes, and then settled again.
Or almost. There was a group to his left being rather rowdy for a library; they were clearly there to socialise and flirt amongst themselves instead of actually use the library. Severus glanced up at them in annoyance just in time to see Madam Pince descend on them, her lips pinched with upset.
“I am fairly certain that this is not your common room. I do hope you five have a note from a Professor giving you permission to be here instead of whichever class you are currently assigned to?”
“We’ve a note from Professor Babbling,” one of the girls explained, presenting a piece of parchment. “We are ‘comparing and contrasting the fundamental differences between Chinese and Egyptian glyphs.’” Her expression was imperious, and one of the larger boys snorted with laughter.
Madam Pince gave the note she now held a look of extreme distrust, to the table’s amusement, and snapped, “Do remember that this is a library, and if you don’t keep the noise level to a minimum I will be sure to inform Professor Babbling that you will not be allowed back during her class time.”
To the woman’s disapproval, the bigger boy snorted in laughter again, ribbing the current generation’s Malfoy with an elbow. The blond gave his friend a disdainful look, and obediently mouthed platitudes at the librarian. Madam Pince stalked off, and he table dissolved into soft laughter in her wake.
Severus suddenly found himself making eye contact with Malfoy, and the other boy gave him a small smile. This was the son of his mentor and Narcissa Black; the boy who was the heir to one of the most powerful families in Britain. Just because his father was a follower of Lord Voldemort didn’t mean that either of them were bad, Severus reasoned. After all, Severus had been trying to do the same. Lord Voldemort had killed Lily, not the Malfoys. Severus smirked back at the boy in silent agreement that they could be friends.
Malfoy darted his gaze to Severus’ other side, where one table over, Hermione Granger had at some point planted herself without his noticing, still deeply engrossed in the book she had been reading at lunchtime. She wasn’t doing anything especially strange, in his opinion.
Severus met Malfoy’s eyes again and shrugged minutely. The boy responded by waggling his brows at Severus and standing, meandering over to the section of shelves between Severus and Hermione. The girl with the note-Parkinson, he remembered from Defence class-stood as well, and followed him.
The two pretended to study the shelves for a short while before the girl suddenly said loudly, “Why Granger, the Gold Book? How…utterly quaint! Are you reading that to try to understand your betters, or are you stupid enough to try to find your own family in there?”
The Gold Book, more appropriately titled Liber Sanguinis Britanniae, was the authoritative genealogical record of the magical families in Britain. Centuries old and magically updated as births and deaths occurred, the book was traditionally bound in dazzling gold leaf-giving rise to being called the Gold Book. The older the wizarding family, the further back in the book it and its decedents were listed.
Malfoy laughed with Parkinson and added, “Maybe she’s hoping she’s adopted. Or maybe she’s looking for an old family to try to marry into. She wouldn’t be the first Mudblood to harbour delusions that maybe one of them (us?) would want to claim her.” The false pity in his voice was palpable.
Severus felt his heart stop at that epithet-Mudblood. Without realizing it, he found himself standing, moving over to where the altercation was occurring. He wasn’t entirely positive what he was going to do yet, but merely sitting and listening was no longer an option.
Unmindful of his approach, Parkinson grabbed the book off the table, away from Hermione. “Really, you shouldn’t be touching this. It doesn’t concern you at all. You should just stick to the boring introduction books to Wizarding culture for Mudbloods like you. You know,” she said thoughtfully, “like Hogwarts, a History.”
The whole group snickered, and Hermione’s chin jutted out stubbornly, and she held out her hand toward the Gold Book.
“Give it back, Parkinson.”
“Or what?” The girl asked, her tone bored.
“Maybe she’ll take points-oh wait, she can’t from a fellow Prefect.” Malfoy answered. “Or, I know, she’ll write a letter to her mummy.”
“Oh, do shut it, Malfoy. We all know you’re the one most likely to pen a note to mummy when things don’t go your way,” Hermione shot back crossly.
“And my family would actually be able to do something about it,” Malfoy answered, apparently undisturbed. “It’s because our name is in the Gold Book. Show her, Parkinson. About…two-thirds of the way back, I believe. Page 952.”
The girl obediently started flipping through the book, and Hermione muttered, “You have the page number memorised?”
“All wizards and witches of good breeding do, Granger.” The girl responded coolly. “It is, after all, the authority on who is worth knowing and who isn’t. My family starts on page 712. A girl like you wouldn’t know that, though, would you? It’s rather like expecting a foundling to understand that eating with your fingers is uncouth.” Parkinson gave Hermione an ugly smile. “Like that Weasley boy you’ve been panting after--don’t worry, Granger. He may eventually be willing to overlook the mud.”
Malfoy actually brayed in laughter at that, and Severus found himself interjecting, “Don’t call her that.”
All three turned to look at him, the Slytherins surprised, and Hermione expressionless. Severus found himself reiterating, “Don’t ever, ever use that word in my hearing again. Ever.”
Malfoy gave him a hooded look and said softly, “I would have expected that as a Prince, even an illegitimate one, you would understand that there is a certain order of classes, and what is worth defending and what…” he pause to sneer at Hermione, “isn’t. Especially since your uncle is so esteemed in House Slytherin and by my family.”
Severus straightened and looked the other boy directly in the eyes, for the first time refusing to be cowed by the name. “And I would also expect that a scion of a family so esteemed as the Malfoys would understand that using such language in public and the presence of ladies is uncouth.” Severus shot back. “It’s rather like inviting a respected businessman to dine, only to find out he thinks nothing of picking his nose and stuffing his pockets with bread rolls for later."
Malfoy’s face became ugly, and he lashed out suddenly with an arm, sending Hermione’s book bag and most of its contents sprawling all over the floor. “Oh, dear me, Miss Granger. It seems you’ve dropped your things again. Perhaps Prince here will pick them up for you. Don’t forget to tip him afterwards, it’s only polite.”
Parkinson laughed derisively again. She dropped the Gold Book with a heavy thud to the floor with the rest of Hermione’s things, and the two went back to their table.
Hermione gave an annoyed sigh and dropped to the floor, starting to gather her things. “It took almost an hour to get all of this organised this morning,” she grumbled under her breath, then swore softly as she discovered that one of her ink bottles had chipped in the fall, springing a small leak.
Hesitantly, Severus dropped to the ground next to her, and started to help her as she swished her wand at the bottle to repair it. They worked in silence together for a moment before Hermione said quietly, “Thank you for saying that.”
He nodded, uncertain how to proceed and settled for smoothing out the slightly crumpled pages of the Gold Book.
“I...I don’t like Ron like that. Like he was saying. I know you probably don’t believe me after Diagon Alley, but I really don’t.” She looked at him nervously and added, “Just so you know.”
He nodded again, still not sure what to say.
Hermione picked up a few more of her pages, and then whispered, “Why did you defend me again? I thought you were going to stop after this morning. That’s why Malfoy did it, you know. He was testing you.”
“I don’t like bullies,” Severus answered simply, “and I have.”
Hermione’s confusion was plain. “You have what?”
“I have said or done something before when I was angry that I regretted after.”
Her expression cleared, and she said cautiously, “So, you think we can be friends then?”
He paused a moment, and then nodded. “I...yes. Friends. I’m not hanging out with Potter, though.” He gave her a sharp look.
She nodded back. “That’s fair enough, I suppose.”
He picked up the Gold Book and handed it to her. “What were you looking up in this?”
She shrugged and shyly, “Well, if I were the sort to be curious about the new student claiming to be a member of the Prince family, this is the first place I’d look to verify. I was planning to take it to Professor Dumbledore this morning for safekeeping, but then I got a bit sidetracked.”
Severus blinked in surprise. “You were protecting me?”
“There’s no need to sound so surprised,” Hermione said grumpily. “I’m just being thorough. Besides, like I said, I got a bit sidetracked.” She leaned in closer to him and he followed suit, both forgetting that they were still on the floor.
She was close enough that he could smell her shampoo, the slight scent of cinnamon and oranges reminding him of their date on the roof of Number Twelve. She had tasted of oranges, then. He was so distracted by it, he nearly missed the importance of her next words.
“I thought since I had this, it would be a good opportunity to look up the Vector family.”
Once her words sank in, Severus felt his eyes widen. “And…?”
“And there is no Damian Vector. At least not in almost two hundred years. The last Damian Vector recorded in the Gold Book was born in 1814 and died in 1824-only ten years later.”
“So our Damian Vector is lying.”
“It seems so. Except, he is a time traveller and an Unspeakable. We saw it ourselves.”
“Well sure, but if he was born in 1814 he’d be…182! At least. More if he’s been using that Time-Turner a lot. That’s old even by Wizarding standards-that’s older than Professor Dumbledore.”
Hermione nodded. “It’s common knowledge that the Philosopher's Stone exists, and you’ve already proven it’s possible to move forward in time, so maybe he can, too. It’s not really impossible that it’s the same person. Who knows what Unspeakables can do? Here’s the other thing that’s weird.” She flipped through the book until she found the entry again and showed it to him. “Damian Vector, born 1814, died 1824, slain by ‘Egyptian magicks moste foul at the British Museum.’”
“So..?” Severus gave her a confused look. “Why is that important?”
Hermione squeezed her eyes shut and grimaced. “Oh, I forgot to tell you. The other week, at Diagon Alley, I ran into Professor Vector at the apothecary. She knows our Damian Vector, too. She says he’s a ‘cousin of sorts,’ and she assumed I’d met him in the British Museum.”
Severus took a deep breath through his nose. “Well…it’s a weird coincidence, but that doesn’t really prove anything except that whoever he is, Professor Vector knows about it and is telling the same story he is.”
“He has to know how easy it is to look up his name in this book. So either he’s being deliberately insulting by saying his name is Damian Vector, deliberately confusing or he really really is and he finds it funny.”
The two of them were silent for a moment, thinking about it. Their quiet moment was suddenly interrupted by a loud, obnoxious shout.
“KISSY KISSY UNDER THE TABLE LITTLE PRINCY AND HIS MISSY!” The screech was punctuated by several loud raspberry noises.
Severus and Hermione jerked apart so quickly, he nearly did hit his head on the table. The two of them had completely forgotten they were still sitting on the floor, hunched intimately over the book.
“PEEVES,” Hermione shouted, “Get out!”
“Alright that’s enough. All of you get out!” Madam Pince swept an arm at the tables. “This is a library, not a place to giggle and canoodle.”
“We weren’t-” Hermione started, only to be cut off.
“I don’t care. Out, all of you. Shoo!”
“Meet me in my old room,” Severus said. “I have an idea."
A/N: Surprise I finished a chapter (at last), and Happy Valentines Day to all of you!! My deepest gratitude to Stuglik for beta reading this not once, but twice! My thanks also to all of you, still faithfully reading after all this time. It means so much to me that you haven't given up! As always seems to be the case, I am woefully behind in responding to my wonderful reviewers. I am very very sorry, and will do my very best to catch up soon. I hope you all realize just how much I truly adore and appreciate them. Thank you, thank you, thank you.
I have good news: this chapter marks the half-way mark! I'm anticipating this story to end up with a total of 39 chapters, so we are officially half-way there!
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"Haven't you ever got mad and said or behaved in a way you wish you hadn't? I'm sorry." Her words rolled around in his mind throughout lunch, haunting him. He ate mechanically, not really paying attention to what he was eating or the other students around him. Which was just as well, really, since most of them were not that interested in paying attention to him.
He was now, as he had always been, a bit too everything. He had expected a bit more acceptance from Ravenclaw, considering what their house stood for. It turned out they viewed scholarly dedication and intelligence the basic requirements of their house, but the social ladder still hinged, for the most part, on one's level of attractiveness and charisma.
Coming down the stairs from the dorms, he had overheard a girl in the common room this morning talking about how he was "just as greasy" as his uncle. The other girl had agreed that he wasn't very attractive, and that he gave her "the creeps."
Not that he cared. Because he didn't.
Severus cut the pork in front of him into precise cubes, taking a level of odd comfort in the uniform shape and slicing motion. It was like cutting potion components. He noticed Marietta staring at his motions with an odd expression on her face, as if she were wondering if he had become unhinged. He decided not to care and continued to cut even little cubes. It was something to focus on that wasn't Hermione's damning parting words.
Yes, he had been angry and blurted something he wished he hadn't. It had destroyed his friendship with Lily, even though he had turned himself into a laughingstock to try to apologise. Somehow, the exact words had tumbled out of Hermione's mouth to make him wonder if he had made the right decision. It was almost like she knew.
A suspicious sort of person might suspect someone had told her. Severus shot a flinty look from the corner of his eyes to the head table. His elder version was looking at the scarf -draped professor sitting to his right with distaste as she actually dropped a forkful of mushy peas into her wine goblet.
Severus scowled at his evenly diced pork. No, his elder self didn't even seem to like Hermione. The day he had called Lily a Mudblood was one of his most embarrassing regrets. His adult self would not have shared that with her. The truth was that perhaps he and Hermione were more alike than he would have preferred to admit. He, too, had believed that Hogwarts would give him a place to fit in, and he, too, had been disappointed on that front.
Strangely enough, even after their altercations, she still wanted to be friends. He supposed he could relate to that. Idly he wondered if she wanted it enough that she would be willing to sleep outside his dorm as he had with Lily, and then felt a bit guilty for wanting that. Surreptitiously, he glanced at her, a table over. She was sitting hunched over her plate next to the redheaded girl, chewing her own food and…reading. He tried not to smile as he realized she had a book flat on the table where her plate should be, and that her actual lunch had been shoved to the vicinity of where one's glass customarily went.
Potter and Weasley appeared to be pointedly ignoring her. Severus sent a small jinx towards Potter, more to see if he could get away with it than anything else. It was the equivalent of flicking his ear, and the other boy rubbed it with a small grimace, then glared at Hermione. Oops. He hadn't meant to shift the blame to her.
As if she could hear him thinking about her, she looked up suddenly, and their eyes locked. Severus bore the connection for a moment, then uneasily, he gathered his things to go, leaving what was left of his dinner behind. He had a free period next; some quiet time in the library was exactly what was needed to sort his thoughts.
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, 03 September 1996, 1:06 PM
Breezy chatter that only barely met the volume expectation of the library suddenly assailed Severus, and he glanced up from his Arithmancy textbook in annoyance. His glance was met with books thunking down across from him. In short order the chatty Weasley girl and her blonde friend-from his own house he saw-were seated at his table.
He cleared his throat and the blonde fastened her gaze on him expectantly. She was both familiar and not. He had the distinct and uncomfortable feeling that they'd met before, but he couldn't remember where. She smiled at him and opened a potions book, flipping several pages in.
"What do you want?" Severus asked, an edge in his voice. He noticed that his shoulders were hunched defensively, and straightened them.
The redhead-Ginny, that was her name-looked at him in surprise. "What do you mean? You're going out with one of our best friends, and Luna's in your house and my year. We always sit at Hermione's table, and you said you were good at potions. I need help with the- "
"This isn't Hermione's table. It's my table." Severus cut off her prattling response.
"Well it's not her usual table, but why wouldn't she sit with you?"
"Because we're not going out." Severus replied shortly.
The blonde continued to read placidly, mouthing the Latin incantations to herself as she came across them.
“Wait. You…you’re not?” Ginny seemed dumbfounded. “Hermione said you were only yesterday. Ugh, it’s so hard to keep up with these things, here.” Ginny started piling up her books quickly and stuffing them in her bag. “C’mon Luna. Look, no offence, Prince, but we can’t be seen at your table now.” Ginny gave him an apologetic grimace. “Hermione’s already in trouble with Harry and my brother, and she’s not exactly close with the girls in her year. We’re her best friends, and we kind of have to be on her side, even if we don’t know what happened.” She shrugged. “Luna?”
The blonde glanced up at her friend, and then over at Severus. “I think I will stay,” she said softly. “Class starts in a few minutes, anyway.”
Ginny nodded, and quickly walked over to the next table, unpacking her things again with quick efficiency. In moments she was lounging in a chair at the other table as if she had always been there.
Luna returned to her Charms book, apparently unconcerned with the world around her and what social cues might or might not pertain to her. That was…refreshing, honestly. It was a bit unfortunate she had Charms in just a bit. Severus had a free period next, followed by Potions, and her presence at the table was oddly peaceful instead of disturbing.
Shaking his head, Severus pulled out his sixth-year Potions book, checked the inside to see if it had changed in the last twenty years and frowned at it in disappointment. He had been looking forward to learning Potions from himself, but it seemed that fate had decreed that his Potions education was firmly in the hands of Slughorn. Severus sighed, and started to read ahead, going over the potions and jotting notes about various components he had not previously worked with, intending to look them up and their properties individually.
Severus had been finding subtle ways to improve on most of the potions in the textbooks for the last couple of years. It would have been nice to have been challenged. Professor Slughorn taught students to follow potion recipes without actually explaining what they did and how they reacted--it was the primary reason he had been looking forward to learning from himself instead.
If a students didn’t learn the theory how could they possibly understand whether they were making a mistake, or how to improve on it? That wasn’t learning Potions-that was learning how to follow directions. Admittedly, that was a lesson more people could use, but it shouldn’t be at the expense of learning the subtle nuances of Potions.
Absently, Severus licked a finger and turned the page, barely noticing when Luna packed her things and left. The noise level elevated in the background as students came and went between classes, and then settled again.
Or almost. There was a group to his left being rather rowdy for a library; they were clearly there to socialise and flirt amongst themselves instead of actually use the library. Severus glanced up at them in annoyance just in time to see Madam Pince descend on them, her lips pinched with upset.
“I am fairly certain that this is not your common room. I do hope you five have a note from a Professor giving you permission to be here instead of whichever class you are currently assigned to?”
“We’ve a note from Professor Babbling,” one of the girls explained, presenting a piece of parchment. “We are ‘comparing and contrasting the fundamental differences between Chinese and Egyptian glyphs.’” Her expression was imperious, and one of the larger boys snorted with laughter.
Madam Pince gave the note she now held a look of extreme distrust, to the table’s amusement, and snapped, “Do remember that this is a library, and if you don’t keep the noise level to a minimum I will be sure to inform Professor Babbling that you will not be allowed back during her class time.”
To the woman’s disapproval, the bigger boy snorted in laughter again, ribbing the current generation’s Malfoy with an elbow. The blond gave his friend a disdainful look, and obediently mouthed platitudes at the librarian. Madam Pince stalked off, and he table dissolved into soft laughter in her wake.
Severus suddenly found himself making eye contact with Malfoy, and the other boy gave him a small smile. This was the son of his mentor and Narcissa Black; the boy who was the heir to one of the most powerful families in Britain. Just because his father was a follower of Lord Voldemort didn’t mean that either of them were bad, Severus reasoned. After all, Severus had been trying to do the same. Lord Voldemort had killed Lily, not the Malfoys. Severus smirked back at the boy in silent agreement that they could be friends.
Malfoy darted his gaze to Severus’ other side, where one table over, Hermione Granger had at some point planted herself without his noticing, still deeply engrossed in the book she had been reading at lunchtime. She wasn’t doing anything especially strange, in his opinion.
Severus met Malfoy’s eyes again and shrugged minutely. The boy responded by waggling his brows at Severus and standing, meandering over to the section of shelves between Severus and Hermione. The girl with the note-Parkinson, he remembered from Defence class-stood as well, and followed him.
The two pretended to study the shelves for a short while before the girl suddenly said loudly, “Why Granger, the Gold Book? How…utterly quaint! Are you reading that to try to understand your betters, or are you stupid enough to try to find your own family in there?”
The Gold Book, more appropriately titled Liber Sanguinis Britanniae, was the authoritative genealogical record of the magical families in Britain. Centuries old and magically updated as births and deaths occurred, the book was traditionally bound in dazzling gold leaf-giving rise to being called the Gold Book. The older the wizarding family, the further back in the book it and its decedents were listed.
Malfoy laughed with Parkinson and added, “Maybe she’s hoping she’s adopted. Or maybe she’s looking for an old family to try to marry into. She wouldn’t be the first Mudblood to harbour delusions that maybe one of them (us?) would want to claim her.” The false pity in his voice was palpable.
Severus felt his heart stop at that epithet-Mudblood. Without realizing it, he found himself standing, moving over to where the altercation was occurring. He wasn’t entirely positive what he was going to do yet, but merely sitting and listening was no longer an option.
Unmindful of his approach, Parkinson grabbed the book off the table, away from Hermione. “Really, you shouldn’t be touching this. It doesn’t concern you at all. You should just stick to the boring introduction books to Wizarding culture for Mudbloods like you. You know,” she said thoughtfully, “like Hogwarts, a History.”
The whole group snickered, and Hermione’s chin jutted out stubbornly, and she held out her hand toward the Gold Book.
“Give it back, Parkinson.”
“Or what?” The girl asked, her tone bored.
“Maybe she’ll take points-oh wait, she can’t from a fellow Prefect.” Malfoy answered. “Or, I know, she’ll write a letter to her mummy.”
“Oh, do shut it, Malfoy. We all know you’re the one most likely to pen a note to mummy when things don’t go your way,” Hermione shot back crossly.
“And my family would actually be able to do something about it,” Malfoy answered, apparently undisturbed. “It’s because our name is in the Gold Book. Show her, Parkinson. About…two-thirds of the way back, I believe. Page 952.”
The girl obediently started flipping through the book, and Hermione muttered, “You have the page number memorised?”
“All wizards and witches of good breeding do, Granger.” The girl responded coolly. “It is, after all, the authority on who is worth knowing and who isn’t. My family starts on page 712. A girl like you wouldn’t know that, though, would you? It’s rather like expecting a foundling to understand that eating with your fingers is uncouth.” Parkinson gave Hermione an ugly smile. “Like that Weasley boy you’ve been panting after--don’t worry, Granger. He may eventually be willing to overlook the mud.”
Malfoy actually brayed in laughter at that, and Severus found himself interjecting, “Don’t call her that.”
All three turned to look at him, the Slytherins surprised, and Hermione expressionless. Severus found himself reiterating, “Don’t ever, ever use that word in my hearing again. Ever.”
Malfoy gave him a hooded look and said softly, “I would have expected that as a Prince, even an illegitimate one, you would understand that there is a certain order of classes, and what is worth defending and what…” he pause to sneer at Hermione, “isn’t. Especially since your uncle is so esteemed in House Slytherin and by my family.”
Severus straightened and looked the other boy directly in the eyes, for the first time refusing to be cowed by the name. “And I would also expect that a scion of a family so esteemed as the Malfoys would understand that using such language in public and the presence of ladies is uncouth.” Severus shot back. “It’s rather like inviting a respected businessman to dine, only to find out he thinks nothing of picking his nose and stuffing his pockets with bread rolls for later."
Malfoy’s face became ugly, and he lashed out suddenly with an arm, sending Hermione’s book bag and most of its contents sprawling all over the floor. “Oh, dear me, Miss Granger. It seems you’ve dropped your things again. Perhaps Prince here will pick them up for you. Don’t forget to tip him afterwards, it’s only polite.”
Parkinson laughed derisively again. She dropped the Gold Book with a heavy thud to the floor with the rest of Hermione’s things, and the two went back to their table.
Hermione gave an annoyed sigh and dropped to the floor, starting to gather her things. “It took almost an hour to get all of this organised this morning,” she grumbled under her breath, then swore softly as she discovered that one of her ink bottles had chipped in the fall, springing a small leak.
Hesitantly, Severus dropped to the ground next to her, and started to help her as she swished her wand at the bottle to repair it. They worked in silence together for a moment before Hermione said quietly, “Thank you for saying that.”
He nodded, uncertain how to proceed and settled for smoothing out the slightly crumpled pages of the Gold Book.
“I...I don’t like Ron like that. Like he was saying. I know you probably don’t believe me after Diagon Alley, but I really don’t.” She looked at him nervously and added, “Just so you know.”
He nodded again, still not sure what to say.
Hermione picked up a few more of her pages, and then whispered, “Why did you defend me again? I thought you were going to stop after this morning. That’s why Malfoy did it, you know. He was testing you.”
“I don’t like bullies,” Severus answered simply, “and I have.”
Hermione’s confusion was plain. “You have what?”
“I have said or done something before when I was angry that I regretted after.”
Her expression cleared, and she said cautiously, “So, you think we can be friends then?”
He paused a moment, and then nodded. “I...yes. Friends. I’m not hanging out with Potter, though.” He gave her a sharp look.
She nodded back. “That’s fair enough, I suppose.”
He picked up the Gold Book and handed it to her. “What were you looking up in this?”
She shrugged and shyly, “Well, if I were the sort to be curious about the new student claiming to be a member of the Prince family, this is the first place I’d look to verify. I was planning to take it to Professor Dumbledore this morning for safekeeping, but then I got a bit sidetracked.”
Severus blinked in surprise. “You were protecting me?”
“There’s no need to sound so surprised,” Hermione said grumpily. “I’m just being thorough. Besides, like I said, I got a bit sidetracked.” She leaned in closer to him and he followed suit, both forgetting that they were still on the floor.
She was close enough that he could smell her shampoo, the slight scent of cinnamon and oranges reminding him of their date on the roof of Number Twelve. She had tasted of oranges, then. He was so distracted by it, he nearly missed the importance of her next words.
“I thought since I had this, it would be a good opportunity to look up the Vector family.”
Once her words sank in, Severus felt his eyes widen. “And…?”
“And there is no Damian Vector. At least not in almost two hundred years. The last Damian Vector recorded in the Gold Book was born in 1814 and died in 1824-only ten years later.”
“So our Damian Vector is lying.”
“It seems so. Except, he is a time traveller and an Unspeakable. We saw it ourselves.”
“Well sure, but if he was born in 1814 he’d be…182! At least. More if he’s been using that Time-Turner a lot. That’s old even by Wizarding standards-that’s older than Professor Dumbledore.”
Hermione nodded. “It’s common knowledge that the Philosopher's Stone exists, and you’ve already proven it’s possible to move forward in time, so maybe he can, too. It’s not really impossible that it’s the same person. Who knows what Unspeakables can do? Here’s the other thing that’s weird.” She flipped through the book until she found the entry again and showed it to him. “Damian Vector, born 1814, died 1824, slain by ‘Egyptian magicks moste foul at the British Museum.’”
“So..?” Severus gave her a confused look. “Why is that important?”
Hermione squeezed her eyes shut and grimaced. “Oh, I forgot to tell you. The other week, at Diagon Alley, I ran into Professor Vector at the apothecary. She knows our Damian Vector, too. She says he’s a ‘cousin of sorts,’ and she assumed I’d met him in the British Museum.”
Severus took a deep breath through his nose. “Well…it’s a weird coincidence, but that doesn’t really prove anything except that whoever he is, Professor Vector knows about it and is telling the same story he is.”
“He has to know how easy it is to look up his name in this book. So either he’s being deliberately insulting by saying his name is Damian Vector, deliberately confusing or he really really is and he finds it funny.”
The two of them were silent for a moment, thinking about it. Their quiet moment was suddenly interrupted by a loud, obnoxious shout.
“KISSY KISSY UNDER THE TABLE LITTLE PRINCY AND HIS MISSY!” The screech was punctuated by several loud raspberry noises.
Severus and Hermione jerked apart so quickly, he nearly did hit his head on the table. The two of them had completely forgotten they were still sitting on the floor, hunched intimately over the book.
“PEEVES,” Hermione shouted, “Get out!”
“Alright that’s enough. All of you get out!” Madam Pince swept an arm at the tables. “This is a library, not a place to giggle and canoodle.”
“We weren’t-” Hermione started, only to be cut off.
“I don’t care. Out, all of you. Shoo!”
“Meet me in my old room,” Severus said. “I have an idea."
A/N: Surprise I finished a chapter (at last), and Happy Valentines Day to all of you!! My deepest gratitude to Stuglik for beta reading this not once, but twice! My thanks also to all of you, still faithfully reading after all this time. It means so much to me that you haven't given up! As always seems to be the case, I am woefully behind in responding to my wonderful reviewers. I am very very sorry, and will do my very best to catch up soon. I hope you all realize just how much I truly adore and appreciate them. Thank you, thank you, thank you.
I have good news: this chapter marks the half-way mark! I'm anticipating this story to end up with a total of 39 chapters, so we are officially half-way there!
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