33 ~ Elizabeth Lestrange

This chapter is dedicated to all brain cells that died listening to Black

Phil's POV:

     "Ah," Professor Slughorn made thoughtfully and studied me from every conceivable angle. He walked around me, trying to put a name to my appearance, even though he already knew me.     Although those looks unsettled me, I did nothing, let it happen. The Potions professor seemed only just to have realised that he had a new sixth-year student, for there was still a deep crease visible on his forehead.

Yes, he is quite a character...

     While I waited, in the Potions classroom, I bit my lower lip and held my schoolbooks tightly pressed against my chest. It was almost as if they were meant to serve me as a shield. A shield as defence against every evil and haunting monster.     So I stood there, waiting until I could finally sit down, like everyone else already present. Whether Slughorn was always this strange in his lessons did not interest me. I accepted my fate. Accepting my fate was something I had always done.           One simply did not ask questions.     "Miss Aquila," he spoke my name slowly and with pressed lips, or rather, he read my name from some sort of list. The older man looked deeply into my eyes, raised his voice once more: "Huh, it seems I've completely forgotten that you're in my class this year, I beg your pardon. I did mark your O.W.L.s, Miss Aquila.", he scratched at his chin and that suited me just fine. Better someone who kept forgetting my name than someone who would make my life miserable because of my family name.     Slughorn was simply Slughorn and in the last year and a half I had hardly ever seen him, as Lily had taught me Potions for the most part.

Better to live forgotten than to remain in others' memories like a monster.     That suits me just fine, I grumbled on in my thoughts and after a wave of Slughorn's hand I joined Remus. Because as chance would have it, the only empty seat was beside him. Next to Lily, a girl with blonde hair was already sitting, Marlene McKinnon, another friend of hers. For that reason I really did have to sit with the Marauders, just as Black had hinted in Diagon Alley.

     Every table in the Potions classroom had a few stools and Slughorn had a fixed seating arrangement. At least he did not want everyone changing places every time.     That was why I reached the table. Silently I took a seat on one of the wooden stools and avoided the looks of the Marauders. I opened the Potions textbook, pretended to read in it, as if decoding a hidden message.     Unfortunately it did not work, because Sirius Black had something to say: "I told you, Phil, that we've still got a seat free with us. Brilliant, isn't it?"          "Wonderful...", I muttered and Slughorn had just closed the door behind him.     "Evans doesn't think it's so wonderful," James Potter laughed and looked to the other table, from where green eyes were flashing over at us. Interestingly, Remus also held Lily's gaze, but I could not remember the two of them speaking to each other recently.          "Why should she be thrilled?", I looked at the four boys. In contrast to the girls, I had fewer problems with them. I treated them normally, as long as they treated me normally, which perhaps had something to do with our history.     "What are you trying to say, dear Phil?", asked Black and he was sitting opposite me.          "That Lily can't stand you."     Sirius Black drew in a dramatically shocked breath. "With your serious tone, I almost forgot that I didn't already know that," he joked. I looked back at him silently.     "We're not that bad," said Potter, though his voice did not sound convinced.     "Which doesn't matter now, Slughorn is starting the lesson," replied Remus, and indeed Slughorn was already looking over at our table in annoyance.

I quite agree with you that the boys talk too much, Professor.

     As a result, the lesson began and Slughorn raised his voice: "So, I welcome you all back to Hogwarts this year," he said, "The O.W.L.s are over and you are all hopefully well rested after the summer. I certainly spent a great deal of time in my favourite café, which you might be able to tell, ha, ha, ha!"     His laughter sounded rumbling and it was clear that the others only laughed along out of politeness. I, however, was shocked, because I had not known that Slughorn was this bad.          My expression was noticed by the Marauders, who looked at me in amusement. Remus whispered beside me: "If I were you, I'd get your face under control."     He sounded cheerful and I followed his words. With a strained expression I continued listening to Slughorn. He explained that today we would be getting familiar with the Draught of Living Death and because it was a double lesson, we would already be making a first attempt at brewing it. Therefore I opened my book to the correct page and began to read, not wanting to listen to Slughorn's rambling:

'The Draught of Living Death' is an extremely powerful sleeping potion. Whoever drinks it sleeps like the dead and cannot be woken by anything.

     "Now then, who among you can name the required ingredients?", after the stout professor had asked his question, several hands shot into the air. However, before he called on one of those present, he stepped across the wooden floor, whose boards creaked and groaned under the professor's weight. With his hands clasped behind his back, he suddenly stopped and said loudly and dramatically across the classroom: "Mister Snape, speak, my boy."     My eyes fixed on the boy with somewhat longer, dark hair. Snape slowly lowered his hand, his voice echoed in my ears: "To prepare the Draught of Living Death, asphodel root is first finely chopped, after which wormwood is boiled into a decoction. The juice of a sopophorous bean is likewise required. Finally, valerian root must be added."          Slughorn gave an approving grunt. "Excellent, boy, ten points for Slytherin!", he called out and Snape received approving looks from the others, with green and silver ties around their necks.     "Ten points for reading it straight off the page and because he's his favourite...", Sirius Black joked sarcastically.          Potter snickered quietly in his seat.      I looked to the left as Sirius continued mocking Snape and could not help but smirk. I wanted to make sure Black's claim was true. My gaze slid back into the book and indeed everything was listed there word for word. But why Sirius Black had to get worked up about it now, well, I had no idea.      Probably because of something connected to Snape, whom I disliked anyway because of Lily. Yet the jabs of the Marauders did not interest me in the slightest, which was why I continued reading in my Potions book:

To prepare the potion correctly, asphodel root must be boiled in the wormwood decoction. At first, a bluish vapour rises from the brew. Afterwards, however, in the middle stage the potion takes on a blackberry-like shade. After the addition of the sopophorous bean juice and the valerian root it lightens and turns lilac. By carefully stirring counter-clockwise, the colour of the potion changes from dark violet through lilac to pink, until in the end it becomes clear like water.

     After I had finished reading, I looked back over at the professor, who was just speaking words that drew a collective groan from those present. That word, well, it was called partner work. Because as fate would have it, the professor himself insisted on assigning the groups, and apart from James Potter, no one seemed pleased with their chosen partner.      James and Lily had been placed in one group. That the redhead was not particularly delighted about it was obvious to everyone. I had even caught a glance from her that seemed to ask for help, but unfortunately no one could change her fate.          "Oh, hello!", called a black-haired girl, with a green tie tied around her neck.      My partner for today was called Elizabeth Lestrange, which I only knew because Slughorn had called out both her name and mine. Of course I could have complained about this arrangement, since I had not had good experiences with the Slytherins so far, but what was I supposed to do about it?

Nothing.So I accepted my fate.

     I had, however, seen this Lestrange a few times before and right at the very beginning of my time at Hogwarts she had once driven Mulciber Jr. away. I did not think about the past any longer, but instead examined my partner.     The girl dropped onto the stool beside me with plenty of energy and held out her hand to me. I regarded it sceptically, raised one eyebrow high. She understood, because immediately she cleared her throat, spoke in a conspiratorial tone: "My name is Elizabeth and I am your partner for today, brilliant, right? I mean, better than Black, isn't it? Ha, ha!"          After she had finished, she grabbed my right hand with wild laughter and shook our hands. Her emotions shifted again, however, when she cast a glance into my book, apparently only now noticing what we had to do.     "That flat-hatted wizard! Always making us brew potions that we should be brewing together with him, you know? At least practise."          No, of course I did not know, but that did not stop Lestrange from simply continuing to speak, without expecting any reply from me: "We've had to brew loads of potions on our own already, completely without help or tips. Hm, bad memories, although there were a few good explosions." Her gaze fell on Black, who was just passing our table. Elizabeth now seemed to speak extra loudly, in order to provoke: "Black really has nothing in his head, you, wait, what's your name again? I mean your first name, because how could anyone forget your surname, ha, ha!"          "Phil."     "Ah yes. You, on the other hand, are quite a refreshing change, Phil, even if you really seemed completely mad when we first met." After that she wrinkled her nose and thrust her chin arrogantly towards Sirius Black.          Black had stopped beside our table and glared at the Slytherin. The tension was almost tangible.     My eyes moved back and forth between them. I found it interesting, because naturally I had not yet experienced any of the normal lessons. This Lestrange and Black definitely did not seem to like each other.      I could slowly guess why.

This could be entertaining...

     "If you find me so unbearable, then I don't understand why you're talking about me, Lestrange. Do you have to think about me often in your thoughts?" Black taunted and looked at the Slytherin. She folded her arms across her chest, blew out air from her nose in boredom.          "Tz, please, Black, why would I think about you, that would only kill off my brain cells. Or wait, maybe I really have thought about you, but those cells have already perished from the thought. Not even brain cells can stand you, they kill themselves at the mere thought of you, not a good sign," Elizabeth Lestrange shot back. A small smirk on her lips revealed that she was enjoying provoking Black.     "But you did think about me," Black countered, raising both brows.          "Like I said, I couldn't remember that, but now I really have thought about you; after all, I have to tell Phil the truth about you idiots. I already feel sorry for the poor girl, having to sit next to you and your friends. My condolences, by the way," she spoke the last part directed at me and looked at me sympathetically.      I was still confused, however.

Why an Elizabeth Lestrange was speaking to me as if we were good friends and as if she were giving me helpful advice, I did not know. Up until now I had only had negative experiences with Slytherins.That was why this girl confused me more and more. I could only assume that she disliked Black, that this hatred existed on both sides.

     "Says the right one," Black sneered, "You're a dreadful person, Lestrange. Just so you know that, Phil", said the Gryffindor. Towards the end his gaze fell on me.          "I think I'd rather make up my own mind, thanks, both of you", I spoke up and the two looked at me, but could not reply any further, as another voice rang out, "Black, Lestrange, Aquila, why aren't they working?", asked Slughorn.           We stopped talking.     "Then we'll continue this conversation another time, Lestrange, and don't think about me too often, especially at night, when you might be feeling lonely down in the dungeons."     After these dirty insinuated words, Black set off, but Elizabeth Lestrange still said, "I'd rather bash my head against the wall until I die, ugh!", after that she showed Black her black-painted middle finger and sat back down beside me.          "And where were we?", her voice now sounded calm. I pointed, somewhat dazed, into my Potions book.     After that we set to work together and brewed a Draught of Living Death. However, I did not know what to think of Elizabeth Lestrange. Nor did I know at that point that in sixth year I would have a great deal to do with her.