Promises (Temporarily on Hiatus)

I really seemed to be on cloud nine for those sweet hours after my first chastisement. I hardly even noticed Malfoy as he strode briskly by, thinking only of the lovely bath that awaited me in the enormous pool in the prefect lavatory. It was past curfew by that time, but my prefect badge would get me out of any confrontation. As I rounded a corner on the ground floor, I spotted two Gryffindors heatedly petting each other in a recess in the wall.

“Heh hem,” I cleared my throat in an exaggerated gesture. They both turned quickly around, looking a combination sheepish and randy. “Five points from Gryffindor for being out past curfew, another five for acting so lewdly.”

“What?” the boy barked.

“And another five for insolence, I think.” I raised my eyebrows, willing them to continue. They both clamped their mouths shut and began walking towards Gryffindor House on the seventh floor. Feeling immensely pleased with myself, I tripped merrily towards the entrance. Murmuring the password softly, I slipped through the large door and treated myself to a soothing lavender bath, along with other, more illicit things.

I woke up the next morning, well rested and warm beneath the sheets. It was a lovely Sunday morning, the sky clear and sun glowing brightly. The dormitory was almost empty, save for a few late risers like myself, and the air was fresh and brisk, causing my flesh to goosepimple. I stepped out of bed and hurriedly attired myself in the appropriate winter clothing; thick wool tights, long trousers, and two jumpers. I wrapped my heaviest robes tightly around me, slipping on a knit cap as well. I hoped I wasn’t too late for breakfast and was relieved to see, upon entering the Great Hall, there was still some food left. I was ravenous, having missed dinner the night before, and began piling assorted morsels onto my plate. Indulging myself for once in my life, I allowed myself to devour the meal at lightning speed, fully aware that this sort of behaviour would earn me a sound walloping from any respectable adult. I didn’t care. I was content, full, warm, and had slept soundly, which was a strange occurrence these days. The stresses of my home life and the pressures of school often weighed heavily on my mind, and I was familiar with the stomach pains and throbbing headaches that resulted from this. I drank too much caffeinated tea as well, usually in response to a last minute paper or cram sessions. All in all, a full night’s sleep was a rare occasion and a luxury that I couldn’t often afford.

I pushed my empty plate away from me and stretched my arms above my head. I had some time before my next detention with Snape and thought about how I would spend the rest of the day. I was still furious with Marjorie and the others and wasn’t in any mood to make amends quite yet; I would though, as it didn’t do well to make that group angry. My other two options were going to the library and imploring Madame Pince to lend me an actual novel or I could take a walk around the grounds. Though neither sounded particularly appealing, I decided on the latter. Though the clouds had melted away and the sky was now a weak shade of blue, it was colder than it had been the previous day. The snow had turned the sod and mud into a soupy, gummy mess. And this was then covered in a jagged layer of ice, precipitated by the freezing temperatures. I decided to stay away from the miry areas, like the shore of the Great Lake and the fringe of the Forbidden Forest, and chose my route carefully.

I made my way around the perimeter of the castle, keeping close to the overgrown paths and grimy avenues that wound their way around the stone battlements. The greenhouses soon came into view; the freshly tilled soil of the nearby gardens incubated the dormant mandrakes and other assorted tubers and legumes. The sun reflected off the thick glass walls, which were coated in a dense layer of frost, and allowed me to see my reflection on their surface. I also saw the reflection of two others who were standing just around the bend of the large turret. I quickly made sure that my reflection no longer could be seen in the greenhouse wall and attempted to listen in on the conversation between Lucius Malfoy and Professor Faire.

“Have you made any progress, Uncle?” Faire inquired in a hushed voice.

Uncle?

“Well, Argus Filch seemed quite eager when I mentioned it to him.” Lucius responded in an unexpectedly nervous tone.

“The custodian, Uncle? This will not do. Have you even talked to Severus yet?”

“We don’t have to worry about him; I mean, the man was one of us. Or we thought he was. I still think... Anyway Jonathan, the Minister has said that we may stay here as long as necessary, and I have a plan to win over the favour of the student body. Though I may not need their approval, I feel as though it would be a mark of good form and make the transition much smoother if the student’s were on my side. Trust me.”

“I do, Uncle.”

Sensing their conversation was coming to a close, I scrambled for an escape route. If I ran, there was a good chance I would slip in the muck and peat, but if I stayed, I would be found out. I decided that I would have to confront them and hope for the best. I backtracked for a few seconds and then spun around and strolled slowly by the approaching duo. Once they came into view, I wiggled my fingers in their direction and smiled.

“Good morning Mr. Malfoy, Professor Faire,” I chirped brightly.

“Good morning, Evelyn,” Faire replied easily. “Have you been practising your non-verbal spells?”

“Yes, Professor,” I lied. I had been much too distracted as of late to bother with it.

“Good morning, Miss... Harper,” Lucius muttered icily, a tincture of suspicion marring his otherwise polite tone. “You seem awfully chipper this morning.”

“I got a lovely night’s sleep,” I replied, trying not to let any sort of affront creep into my voice.

“Did you? Nothing kept you up?”

I feigned confusion. “No, nothing.”

“What are you talking about Unc—Lucius?”

I pretended not to notice the slip. “Yes, what are you talking about?”

“We’ll talk later, Jonathan. And I do not appreciate your sass, Miss Harper.” His tone was cold.

“Oh, don’t be rude, Lucius. Are you headed somewhere, Evelyn?” His fingers touched my elbow briefly.

“Oh.” The gesture had made me quite uncomfortable. “Erm, to the Quidditch Pitch. Slytherins are practising today, aren’t they?”

“I never thought you to be a Quidditch Rat, Evelyn,” Faire teased, showing some flash of personality, a stark contrast to his usual insipidity.

Quidditch Rats were the hardcore fanatics who weren’t on the team. They went to every practice, scrimmage, and game and dressed in ostentatious Slytherin colours year round. “Oh yes, obviously. I love Quidditch.”

“We must be going, Jonathan. Miss Harper.” Lucius nodded and stalked off, leaving me to wonder what it is I had done to upset him.

“Sorry about him, Evelyn. He is quite stressed as of late.” Again, he touched my elbow before trotting off after “Uncle Lucius.”

After they turned the corner, I breathed a heavy sigh of relief and continued my journey towards the Quidditch Pitch. I heard the throng of people before I saw them, their loud calls and chants travelling the airwaves to reach my ears. They were a filthy bunch, dirt on their noses and most of them had long, grown out hair. I greeted a couple of fellow seventh years and soon found out that their enthusiasm was infectious; it wasn’t long before I was shouting with the best of them.

During a lull in the activity, a Slytherin girl turned to me and stuck up a conversation. “Did you hear the rumour? Someone told me that there’s going to be a Yule Ball this year, and that it was Mr. Malfoy’s idea—” She stopped there once she saw that the players were taking the field.

“What?” I prompted her, but she shushed me.

Once the sun began to set, I took my leave and headed back to the dungeons. In the privacy of the dormitories, I removed my clothing and put on some smarter attire, loose robes and low heels. Nothing too showy that would arouse any suspicion, but not dingy enough to seem unkempt. I arrived at the door to Professor Snape’s office a few minutes early and rapped curtly on the door. I heard footsteps approaching and lifted my chin up.

“Good evening, Professor,” I said softly as the door swung open.

Snape looked tired and worn out, shaded circles under his eyes giving him a slightly cadaverous appearance. I searched for something to say when he didn’t respond but was halted by a sharp jerk of his head, indicating that I should enter. His manner was cold, uncharacteristically so. I was used to his brusqueness and severity, but nothing so absolutely distant as this.

Perhaps this is just an act.

I saw that there was a piece of parchment, an inkwell, and quill on a desk in the centre of the room. Lines. I groaned inwardly and took a seat, attempting to look alluring. My confidence, my assurance that he was just playing, faltered however when he sat down and ignored me completely. I remained silent for a good while, waiting for him to tell me what it is I was supposed to write. It was a long time before he did, and even then he did not look me in the eye.
“You are to write ‘I will not disobey Hogwarts’ rules’ two hundred times. If I find your penmanship to be illegible or am not satisfied with your attitude by the end of this, you will be forced to repeat it. Do I make myself clear, Miss Delaney?”

What proceeded were some of the most painful moments of my life. Betrayal, anger, humiliation, all coursed through me, each heartbeat propelling them further into my system, psyche, and spirit. Professor Snape’s head snapped up, his jaw clenched tightly and eyes panicked. By this time, I had leapt out of the desk as though it were scorching hot, spilling the inkwell and snapping the quill in half. The bottle fell to the floor and rolled under his desk, and a fine spray of ink covered my bare legs.

“No.” The syllable was pronounced heavily, containing more feeling than I could have ever packed in intentionally. I was slowly backing towards the door, my hand floundering for the knob. I shut my eyes and swallowed.

How could I have been so foolish? What possessed me for an instant to think that he would be any different? God, Evelyn, you’re pathetic. Trusting him...

My face grew very hot. Thinking of how much I cared and how much I needed him to validate me, to show me that my bloodline was irrelevant. I thought of the previous night, how absolutely happy I had been. How I had dressed up for him tonight. I had never known degradation quite like this. My mouth was filled with some bitter taste, and I turned slowly away.

“Miss Harper, I—”

I fled from the room, shoes in hand, heart pounding, away from him and all those pathetic little thoughts of contentment in his possessive, desirous arms.