36 ~ Lions disguised as Snakes

Nothing attracted attention faster than a Gryffindor talking calmly to a Slytherin.

     "Oh, why don't we have Charms together in Sixth Year, I would have loved to see that," laughed a voice beside me, "Next time hit Black though, ha, ha!"     I looked to the right into Elizabeth's green eyes, but then I looked back at my empty cup in front of me. I was sitting in one of Hogwarts' courtyards and had just wanted to practise Aguamenti until a certain Slytherin had found me.     She had asked me what I was doing all alone in the courtyard. I had told her about the incident in Charms, that according to Heffordson I was supposed to practise alone. That was exactly what I had been doing, because in three days I would have Charms again, where we would all have to demonstrate the spell.     Elizabeth had naturally found my story extremely amusing. At that moment she was sitting beside me. She would soon meet Severus Snape at the lake, since the weather today was strangely mild, and that was why she had crossed my path.     "I would have preferred not to hit anyone with my water flood," I muttered in reply.          "I know, I know," she began, "but next time hit Black, do it for me," she looked at me pleadingly, but I only raised one eyebrow.     "Can I ask you why you and Black don't like each other?"          My question made Elizabeth shrug her shoulders, and since today was Saturday, she was wearing a black shirt and trousers. I was wearing my normal clothes as well, which were not as elegant as Elizabeth's. She was only wearing a shirt, but it had black embroidery and looked expensive, as befitted the Lestrange family. In general I had already seen many Slytherins at the weekend who still wore shirts and trousers. With my green fabric trousers and red blouse, on the other hand, I felt strange, but I did not mind.

Clothes do not define anyone.

     "I would say it is enough that Black is in Gryffindor," she answered my question after thinking, "You are the first from your house that I talk to normally, but with Black it is also because he is a Black in Gryffindor. Our families are very similar and since First Year we have argued regularly. It is fun, but I really can't stand him. Now he is getting worse and worse since he discovered his tail."     "But otherwise you are very similar."          Elizabeth looked at me as if I had slapped her. "Never say that again, Phil," she warned me, shuddering with a sound as if she were gagging. However I had to grin, because I was right. It was only the beginning of October, but already I had seen enough to know that the two of them had similar arguing behaviour. Likewise Elizabeth, just like Black, was arrogant, even if she was a nice girl.     I had stopped wondering why she spoke to me, I simply let it happen. I also enjoyed that she, unlike the girls and the boys, did not tell me what I should do. Likewise she did not talk like most in Sixth Year about dating experiences. For these reasons and others she was a pleasant change.     That she was a Slytherin did not matter to me, because I still had not understood the concept of the houses. My father had not been a good person either, although he had been a Gryffindor.     That was why Elizabeth was like Black to me, even if unlike him she simply was in Slytherin and had a reasonably normal relationship with her family, as far as that worked with the Lestranges.     Strangely I felt more comfortable with people who did not have a perfect family relationship. Lily, for example, always wanted to help me with everything and protect me. Elizabeth simply existed beside me.     Besides my childhood, my werewolf existence had been my greatest burden, but this curse would never disappear. In one week the next full moon would come and I enjoyed the time until then.     Last full moon, in the second school week, I had been told by the Marauders that I should not speak to Elizabeth. Naturally I had not listened to them. The girls had stopped talking to me about this topic for a week.

That is how I prefer it. My life, my decisions.

     "Black is just Black, but there are worse things," I said and broke the silence between us. Elizabeth pulled a face, afterwards she nodded, even if reluctantly. Her face took on a strange expression. I did not ask about it, but tried another attempt.     "Aguamenti," I said, made the corresponding movement with my wand, a wave. This time I managed a small drop, which made me happy.          "So either your spells are pathetic or a complete catastrophe?" asked the Slytherin, eyeing my drop of water with raised brows.     "You could say that, yes..." I had no control over my magical abilities and I would never learn the great spells. Even spells for duelling or defence were denied to me. Too many dangers came from them, not only for me, but also for others. If I had only hit Potter with water and once set Heffordson's cloak on fire, I could with an Explosion Spell either do nothing or cause complete chaos.     It was better for everyone involved if I specialised in activities without using a wand, stayed with normal everyday spells.          "It is what it is," Elizabeth said, "Not all wizards and witches are equally talented. You have your strengths elsewhere."     "Thanks, but I still have to manage this stupid spell on Tuesday," I complained. My counterpart laughed.          "Then you have to practise," she winked at me, afterwards I continued trying the spell. Once nothing happened, but then the water bubbled into the cup and I dropped my wand, because the stream of water became too strong.     Elizabeth's green eyes had been fixed on the cup the whole time, but a voice caught her attention: "I've been looking for you, Lizzy," it said reproachfully.     I drew my brows together. Into the courtyard came none other than Severus Snape and his black eyes rested on Elizabeth.          "I told you not to call me that," she complained, glanced at her watch, "but sorry, I forgot the time."     Snape remained standing beside her. He was wearing black trousers and a white shirt. His hair had grown longer over the summer and after the Slytherin's words Snape's gaze fell on me. From above he examined me and I held his gaze. His forehead showed three lines as he looked at Elizabeth, who stood up. He also seemed not to understand why the two of us were talking to each other. He also seemed not to know how he should deal with me. I was friends with Lily and a Gryffindor.

So, I don't like you, Snape. Just because of Lily.

     In the end I received a nod, then he said to Elizabeth: "Let's go."          He turned round and simply walked off. The dark-haired girl held my gaze for a moment longer.     "We'll see each other another time, Phil," she said goodbye. Elizabeth turned round and caught up with Snape. The two of them left the courtyard and I was alone.     At least I thought so, because when I wanted to pick up my wand again and practise, I heard a voice behind me: "What was that supposed to be?"     Startled, I turned round. I sighed loudly when I spotted Sirius Black, who with crossed arms watched the two Slytherins walk away, his jaw tense. Beside him stood the other Marauders and I looked at each of them one after the other.     Where they had suddenly come from, why they were even here, I did not want to know. It was enough for me that they were interfering in my life again.

Yeah, brilliant, nothing I'd rather have...

     "They call it conversation, in case the term means nothing to you," I mocked and turned back to my cup. Casting spells was obviously no longer possible with the four boys breathing down my neck.     My words made Black snort, then they sat down beside me without asking. Remus sat to my left, Pettigrew beside him, then in front of me Black and to my right Potter, who eyed the cup and my wand sceptically, remembering his unwanted shower.     "I know what a conversation is, we are having one right now," came the reply and I looked into grey eyes.          "No, this here is an unwanted conversation, Sirius," I made clear, because I did not want to be surrounded by them.     "Ha, ha," Black said dryly. I only raised an eyebrow.          "What do you want?" I asked, "To tell me again that I shouldn't talk to Elizabeth, because your arguments are slowly repeating themselves?"     "You can't trust her," Black insisted at once, repeating himself.     "She's up to something," Potter agreed with his friend as well.          I looked at the two of them, then asked calmly: "And what?"     Of course they gave no explicit answer, so I continued: "What is she supposed to do? Drag me over to the Slytherins' side, recruit me to the Death Eaters because my family name has such a glorious history on the Death Eater side? Is that what you want to warn me about? Am I going to use my werewolf abilities for the Dark Side, because all Death Eaters want to be werewolves, hm?"     "It would be enough if she used you, for ordinary purposes," Potter explained. His brown eyes studied me from behind his glasses. I breathed in the fresh air, dug my fingers into the grass.     "She's evil and a Lestrange. She only acts for her own advantage," Sirius Black hissed.          "So far she hasn't done anything to me," I replied dryly, "She even helped me once when Mulciber Jr. humiliated me in Fourth Year. She stood up against her own snakes. Right now I feel more pressured by you."     For a moment it was quiet, because I was certain the boys had not known that - Elizabeth would certainly not have told them that she had driven Mulciber Jr. away back then when I had suffered a nervous breakdown.

Slytherins rarely boast about good deeds.

     "That has nothing to do with it, nobody can stand Mulciber," Black insisted to himself, "She's plotting something and the Lestrange family is probably behind it."          "Oh really, and how do you know that?" my tone sounded mocking, "Because you're a Black?" I said it aloud. At once the tension between all of us rose dramatically.     The Marauders looked at me sternly, for a moment everyone held their breath. I looked at them, ignored all the other people in the courtyard. Above us a grey blanket of clouds.     "Sirius really knows his stuff," Potter tried to support his friend.     Remus spoke up for the first time as well: "You haven't been here that long, Phil, you don't know much about wizarding families. You don't see beneath the surface of people. Trust the people you know."          "Are you saying that I'm naive?" I asked and had to admit that Remus' words hurt me. I knew that I had not been at Hogwarts long, that I generally knew little about the wizarding world, but many others did not either. Many half-bloods and Muggle-borns knew nothing about the old wizarding families.     "That's not how it was meant, Phil," Remus tried to correct himself, but Black said: "But he was on the right track. We're worried that Lestrange will use you as a toy, because you've only been here a short time."     "Recently the Dark Forces have been gathering more and more," Potter said.     "The Lestranges are not good," Sirius Black raised his voice, "I usually don't talk about it, but I know it. The Blacks are the same; you grow up and from early childhood it's drilled into you that you have honour and that you have to go to Slytherin. The Dark Arts are glorified and these families dream of a dark world they can rule. There is no love and everyone else, except pure-bloods with a lineage, is despised. I've already stood up against my family and I know how Slytherins tick. Lestrange is a nasty snake. She's definitely on the Death Eater side, the way she always talks. We just don't want you to fall for her, Phil. You simply don't know everything yet."

So that's what you think of me...

     Black finished and they all looked at me as if I were a naive girl who had to have all this explained to her because I trusted every person immediately.     I let the words of the three of them sink in for a moment. It hurt to be seen that way by them. I did not want to know what others thought about me, because this was enough for me. It was enough to make me angry for the first time. The boys understood that my silence meant absolutely nothing good.     Taking one deep breath in and out, I looked at them, then raised my voice: "Thank you," I said coldly, "only because of you do I understand it. Only through your words, Black, can I finally imagine what it means to be raised the way you were."          Sirius wanted to say something, but I did not let him: "Wait, let me think, suddenly memories of my own childhood are surfacing inside me, memories I never told anyone about because I did not want to. I forgot that I had a psychopath as a father who liked the Dark Arts and always told me that I had honour and that you people - yes, not only half-bloods and Muggle-borns like in your case, all-knowing Black -, all of you are vile, disgusting creatures who do not deserve to live. I forgot what it is like to be an experiment of Dark Magic. Torture through spells is perfectly normal among the terrible pure-bloods. But you forgot something, namely that violence exists even without magic, Black. I must have imagined being beaten by my mother's second husband whenever I said a wrong word. Also having had a madwoman as a mother who heard voices and abused me as well. I must have imagined what it is like to be locked into a cellar every full moon and beaten simply because of what I am. I may not have been raised the way you were, but I think you will find similarities. I also do not want to play the game now of who had the worse childhood just to use it as an argument in a fight. Here, look, I am poor Sirius Black and know everything about the Slytherins because my childhood was shit. Go cry somewhere else! Shove your 'I-know-all-Slytherins' up your arse! You don't even know all the Gryffindors! You don't know me!"     I stood up and picked up the cup. All of them were silent and I could not read their faces at all. I looked down at them from above, but I was not finished yet.          "It seems to me as if you, as snakes, are merely wearing a disguise as lions when one listens to you. You don't know me, but act as if I were the naive girl who had an evil werewolf daddy. But as you might agree, Black, experiences like that in childhood are exactly the thing that does not make someone naive in life, yes exactly. But fine, let Lestrange be the villain and you my saviours. One thing is clear, however, and that is, stay out of my life from now on! I will happily play the naive Aquila and you can kiss my arse. Maybe I am naive enough to believe again the words my wonderful father drilled into me, that all of you are disgusting people! I choose my friendships and you are not among them. I really thought you were okay, especially you, Remus, but as it turns out, I suppose I will have to prefer the friendship of a snake who, by the way, has not once spoken to me about anything because of my heritage. If I fall flat on my face, then alone! Stay out of my life, thank you!"     With these words I turned around, leaving the boys speechless behind me.

     Later in my dormitory I let my frustration run free. The girls were at the lake today, since I had still wanted to practise Aguamenti. I was glad, however, that I was alone because I was agitated. I was also hurt that I had even had such an argument with the boys.     It hurt that they thought of me like that, especially Remus, who had agreed with his friends. I had spoken the most with him alone because I had thought that we understood each other. Apparently we did not.     I felt understood by no one, not even by the girls. They also kept looking at me with concern, as if I were a naive Phil. Only with Elizabeth had I not yet had this feeling and I had only known her for a month. Maybe she was exactly as the boys said, and maybe I was better off alone. But I wanted to find that out myself.

Fall flat on my face myself.

     That was why I was angry.     At that moment I was tending to my Wiggentree seedling, which had already grown. It noticed the autumn; slowly it was losing its leaves. It was quiet in the dormitory, and just as I thought my day could not get any worse, I heard a knocking at the window.          I placed the small gardening scissors on my bedside table, looked towards the windowpane.     A brown owl, as small as a tawny owl, sat there, a letter in its yellow beak. At first I did not think anything of it and let the owl in.     From Lily's side of the room I fetched water as well as food for her, then I looked at the letter. I was just about to place it on one of the girls' beds, since I did not receive letters, when I froze. On the envelope stood my name and my stomach tightened.