Lindsay had a lesson with Snape after dinner, and she wasn't looking forward to it at all. She was less bothered by his surliness than by the silence during his lessons. He didn't talk with her at all other than to give instructions. This lesson would require the use of entirely fresh herbs, which were lying unlabeled in a jumbled heap on the worktable.
"You won't need your textbook," said Snape "The instructions are on the board." He said nothing else as he sat at his desk. He looked at her with a peculiar mix of lust and loathing. Her back was to him, but she knew exactly what he was doing. He did the same thing every lesson. Sometimes he'd sit at his desk and watch her, and sometimes he'd pace around her. It didn't bother her that he did that. She wasn't afraid of him; she just wished he'd talk to her.
She looked at the board for a moment then set about separating the herbs. Two of them weren't needed for this potion so she set them aside. This potion wasn't in her textbook, but she'd read about it in one of the books Hermione had given her and was able to spot some deliberate mistakes in the instructions. Snape rose from his desk to stand in front of her, a frown knitted between his brows. She had only looked at the board once and was doing everything correctly. Lindsay saw his frown and assumed he was wondering how she managed to cut up the herbs so quickly. She could stand the silence no longer and began to prattle. "I've been cooking for myself for some time now. But I wasn't very good at first so I took some cooking lessons. It's a great way to meet people. I never would've thought it would help so much with cutting these herbs."
He raised his eyes to hers; a particularly sour expression had crept into his features. "Is there a reason why you're telling me this, Miss Gray?"
"You just looked like you were wondering how I managed to cut this stuff so fast, so I thought I'd explain."
"How very thoughtful of you," said Snape, his eyes glittering as they stared into hers. "I'm not interested in your cutting skills--impressive as they are. Truth be told, I'm puzzled that you never read your textbook while in class, nor have you looked at the board more than once."
"I don't need to. I have an eidetic memory."
"Thank you for that revelation. Now, if you would kindly stop talking."
Lindsay went back to work and did as Snape had asked. He went back to his desk and continued his disturbing vigil. The silence annoyed her, but instead of talking, she began to sing softly.
"Miss Gray, did I not just tell you to stop that?"
"No, Professor," said Lindsay as pleasantly as usual. "You told me to stop talking. You didn't say anything about singing."
"Let me amend my earlier statement then. Please refrain from making any vocal utterances."
"Do you have a headache, Professor?"
"Not yet, but I'll no doubt have one shortly."
"You won't convince me that my singing will be the cause of it. I've had years of vocal training and multiple offers to sing professionally in operas houses."
"I never cared much for operatic singing."
"What type of music do you like? I can mimic other styles." Lindsay thought she'd finally broken the ice and had started a conversation with him.
"Can you mimic the sound of silence?" Snape thought she'd be offended or annoyed, but she laughed pleasantly. She appeared to be genuinely amused, but part of him suspected she was mocking him. He abruptly rose from his desk and told her to leave.
"But I'm only half finished," said Lindsay, confused by the sudden rise in his temper.
"I said, leave."
Lindsay grabbed her bag and left the potions classroom. She must've done something to offend him, but she wasn't sure what. She decided she'd talk it out with him after he'd calmed down a bit. She bumped into Filch on the way back to her rooms. "Hi, Mr. Filch. How are you?"
"Well enough," he answered. He eyed her for moment, shifting his weight between his feet. He cleared his throat before continuing. "You wouldn't happen to have a little free time, would you?"
"I certainly would, sir."
"I have a hot kettle waiting in my office if you're interested."
###
"She's a very handsome cat, Mr. Filch," said Lindsay as she patted Mrs. Norris, who was sprawled on Filch's desk like a Queen. Lindsay had taken notice of the shiny, well-kept manacles hanging on the wall, but declined to begin a conversation regarding them. Filch was a few feet away making tea. He offered a cup to Lindsay and sat down next to her with his own hot tea cup in his hand. Filch's expression warmed immediately. He patted Mrs. Norris affectionately. "Did you hear that, my sweet? Mrs. Norris and I go back a ways. I got a picture album of her. Maybe you'd like to see it?"
"Absolutely, I love pictures." Filch pulled a thick photo album out of his desk drawer and handed it to Lindsay, who immediately began happily looking through it.
"So, what do you think of Hogwarts?" asked Filch.
"It's immense," answered Lindsay, "and beautiful."
Filch sat up a little straighter and smugly announced that he was the school's sole caretaker.
"Really?" said Lindsay, who deliberately sounded very impressed. "That's an enormous task for one person. I thought there'd be an army of people to look after this place."
"Nope," said Filch proudly, "Just me and Mrs. Norris."
"There's something special about historical buildings, don't you agree? They have a kind of...presence. Can I confide in you, Mr. Filch?"
Filch's eyes glistened darkly and a wicked grin tugged at the corners of his mouth, "Certainly."
"Professor Dumbledore seems convinced that I belong here, but I'm not so sure. I'm just hopeless, you know. I can't seem to manage the simplest spells, and it hasn't been from lack of trying. I think I might be a squib."
"There are worse things to be," snapped Filch.
"Yes, you're right," agreed Lindsay.
Filch studied her, but didn't respond. Instead, he chose to focus on the photographs in her hand. "Let me just show you this one, it's one of my favorites," he said as he flipped a couple of pages.
"Oh, that's just precious," said Lindsay as she looked at Mrs. Norris' kitten pictures. Moving photographs still fascinated her even though she saw them daily in the newspaper.
"She was just eight-weeks-old when I snapped that one," said Filch with great pride. "And here she is with her first scratching post." Mrs. Norris abruptly rose and strode out of his office at a rapid pace. "What is it, my lovely?" said Filch as he rose to follow her with Lindsay in tow.
###
Harry and Ron had thrown on Harry's invisibility cloak and headed to the kitchens. Ron was starving and the twins were currently occupying Lindsay's rooms and wouldn't let them in. "I really wish Lupin hadn't taken that map away," said Ron. "I'd hate for Snape or Filch to catch us before we make it to the kitchens."
Ron was so intent on looking around for Snape that he wasn't watching where he placed his feet. "Ow," said Harry. "Watch it, Ron. You nearly tripped--" Ron stepped on Harry's shoelace. Harry fell forward and out of the protection of the cloak just as Filch caught up with Mrs. Norris.
"You!" shouted Filch. "You're always up to no good--."
"Oh, Harry, I'm so sorry," blurted Lindsay. "It's my fault, Mr. Filch. Harry was going to help me with some wand techniques. He must've thought I'd gotten lost again and came to get me." Harry nodded his head vigorously. "So sorry, Harry, I didn't mean to get you in trouble."
Filch looked a little crestfallen. "I suppose I could let him off this one time." He looked at Harry with profound loathing in his eyes, "But only this once."
Lindsay kissed Filch's cheek and he blushed. Harry cringed, as did Ron from under the invisibility cloak. "Thank you, Mr. Filch. I'd be wracked with guilt if Harry got into trouble because of me."
"Right...uh...thanks a lot," said Harry. Filch smiled at Lindsay and scowled at Harry.
"We should get back to the common room," said Lindsay. "Goodnight, Mr. Filch." She leaned down to pet Mrs. Norris. "Goodnight, pretty girl." Filch strode off to his office, beaming proudly at his cat.
Harry whispered a thank you, and Lindsay waited until Filch was out of earshot before speaking again. "Anytime, Harry, but what are you doing wandering around? You'll be in a lot of trouble if you get caught after curfew."
"Ron's hungry, so we thought we'd grab something from the kitchens."
"We?" said Lindsay, looking around and seeing no one else there.
"Take off the cloak, Ron," said Harry. Lindsay started when he seemed to appear out of nowhere.
"It's an invisibility cloak," explained Ron. "It makes anyone who wears it invisible."
Lindsay shook her head in disbelief. "You know what? The less I know the better, just be careful not cross Professor Snape tonight. He's in a right foul mood."
"When isn't he?" said Harry as he and Ron disappeared again under the cloak.
Lindsay began to walk away, but stopped in mid-stride and turned back to them. "Harry?"
"Yeah," answered Harry, popping his head out from underneath the cloak.
"You and Ron have your wands, right?"
"Yeah, why?"
"No reason," responded Lindsay. "Just...um...be careful."
"Okay." Harry and Ron watched her walk away before speaking. "That was a weird thing to ask."
"Maybe she's afraid the Git will hex us." Ron's stomach gave a loud rumble.
"We better get moving. I don't trust Filch. He probably went to tell Snape."
"We're alright, Harry. We've got the cloak," answered Ron.
"Which will do us no good if Snape hears your stomach growling."
###
Lindsay took the staircase that led directly to her rooms, bypassing the Gryffindor common room, with the intention of having a long hot bath. The entrance to this hallway was guarded by a knight in full armor. Professor McGonagall would tap him with her wand to get him to move, but Lindsay only had to touch him and he'd move aside for her. She detected a rotten odor as soon as she entered the hallway to her rooms. Black smoke was billowing up from under her door and wafted along the ceiling. She felt the door for heat before opening it, and saw the twins sitting at her kitchen table drinking tea and eating crisps. Half their faces were blackened, their hair was charred and stood on end, and their clothes were equally scorched except on opposite sides. The fireplace was a blackened smoldering heap as was the furniture that sat in front of it.
"Late night with Professor Snog...I mean Snape?" asked Fred.
"What is that smell?" asked Lindsay, deliberately ignoring Fred.
"Have a look in your bedroom," said George.
Lindsay opened the door and gagged, pulling her shirt over her nose. "It looks like a dinosaur pinched a loaf on my bed."
"The Weasley version of a dungbomb," said Fred with great pride. "It's a prototype and a bit bigger than we'd intended."
"No kidding."
"It gave off a lot more methane than we'd intended too. That's how the fireplace blew up," said George.
"You were standing in front of it, I take it?" asked Lindsay, examining the scorch marks on their clothes.
"Yeah, at first we thought the bomb was a dud. I turned around to blame George..." began Fred.
"...then...BOOM...the fireplace exploded," finished George.
"This is so bizarrely funny...and really disgusting," laughed Lindsay. "But you have to get rid of it."
"It was supposed to dissolve within thirty seconds," said George.
"That was half an hour ago," said Fred.
"You've been in here for half an hour with that smell?"
"You get used to it," answered George.
"How do we get rid of it?"
"We don't know," said the twins.
"How am I supposed to sleep in here with a giant turd on my bed?"
"It's only the one," said Fred.
"Where's Hermione?"
They wouldn't have need of Hermione as Professor Dumbledore walked in. The grins on the twins' faces vanished immediately. "Headmaster," they said in unison, "what a pleasant surprise."
He looked silently around the room, his eyes twinkling merrily and a smile pulling at the corners of his mouth.
"We've a slight mishap, sir," said Lindsay.
"Yes, I can see that. Why don't I just help you put everything right then?" With a causal wave of Dumbledore's hand, the rubble that was once the fireplace rose from the floor and reformed into a mantel. The broken furniture stood up and the scorched upholstery re-grew to pristine condition. The only thing left was the dinosaur turd on Lindsay's bed. "Might I ask what's causing that sickening odor?"
"It's in my bedroom here, sir."
"Oh, my, that is quite disgusting, isn't it?" One silent wave and the bed was clean again.
Lindsay drew in a deep satisfying breath. "Headmaster, I can't thank you enough."
"Not at all," said Dumbledore cheerily. "Nice to see you, boys, but if you wouldn't mind I'd like to have a word with...." The twins sprinted to the door, banging shoulders when they reached it. There was slight scuffle as they fought over who would get out first.
"Sorry about the mess," said Lindsay once Fred and George were gone. "It was a prototype of their version of a dungbomb. It made the fireplace explode. They didn't do that on purpose."
Dumbledore put his hand up. "Not to worry, Fred and George aren't in any trouble. I made a few mistakes myself when I was young. Still do from time to time." Lindsay motioned for him to have a seat at the table. She cleared away the tea cups and crisp bags that the twins had left and offered him some tea. He sat and requested that she to do the same. Lindsay was baffled, but did as Dumbledore requested. He waved his hand and the tray that held tea cups and the still hot teapot floated over to the table.
"Minerva has no doubt told you that I'll be taking over your practical lessons."
"Yes, sir, she did," answered Lindsay, her face and posture already showing signs of nervousness.
"This is your first lesson." Lindsay reached down for her wand, which she often kept in a side pocket of her work boots.
"You won't need that," said Dumbledore. "Relax and place your hands on the table. I want you to make tea without touching anything but the table. I wonder if you wouldn't mind playing your violin for me when we're finished? I'd love to hear some Mozart."
"It would be my pleasure, sir," beamed Lindsay. "I adore Mozart."