Harry, Ron, Hermione, Ginny, Neville, and the twins sat closely together in the common room discussing the cause of the tension among the Gryffindors.
"I don't believe it," said Neville. "Lindsay would never turn on us."
"Fred and I don't believe it either."
"It is rather odd," began Hermione. Six pairs of eyes narrowed slightly as they looked at her. "I'm not taking Jackson's side. I'm just stating the obvious. It's odd how much time she spends with Snape. It could be perceived as suspicious, especially with the drastic rise in detentions everyone's been getting."
"Filch caught Ron and I going to the kitchens and Lindsay covered for us."
"We never got in trouble, so she mustn't have told anyone," said Ron.
"If she was going to turn spy," said Ginny, "that would've been the perfect opportunity."
"Not really," said Hermione. "If I were a spy, I wouldn't want anyone to find out. If I'd caught Ron and Harry, and they got in trouble later, it would be obvious who told. It would have to be me as I would've been the only witness, other than Filch."
"So what are you saying, Granger?" said Fred.
"Are you for or against?" said George.
"Neither really, there aren't enough facts."
"Well, I like her," stated Ginny.
"I like her too," said Hermione, "and I'm not blaming her. I'm just saying that something peculiar is going on."
"George and I are going to fetch her. She needs to stop avoiding the common room."
Twenty minutes later the twins re-entered the common room, dragging Lindsay by her arms. "This is a mistake, guys."
"Nonsense," said George.
"Everyone misses you," said Fred.
"Not everyone." Numerous hate-filled glares turned in Lindsay's direction. The twins stared back, challenging anyone to speak. Many of the students rose and went to their dormitories. The tension in the air was thick. Fred and George plopped her down in a chair next to Neville. "I promise all of you that I'm not spying...."
"We believe you," said Neville.
"All of us," said George.
The common room was now mostly full of younger students as many of the older ones preferred the privacy of their dormitories rather than be in Lindsay's company. There were a few older students who approached her to state their belief that Snape had set her up, and that they had no hard feelings toward her. This prompted a lively exchange of theories among the small group of supporters as to how Snape had managed to catch so many students, and what might be his ultimate goal.
"Where did Fred and George go?" said Ron. "They were just here a minute ago. Did you see them, Ginny?"
"No, I wasn't paying attention."
Lindsay was facing the direction of the hallway that led to her rooms, so she was one of the first to see the menacing black form of the Potions Master silently enter the common room. Many of the students dashed to the safety of their dormitories. Others hesitated, unable to decide whether to run or hide. Lindsay's attention was immediately drawn to a fleeting expression on Snape's face. A mischievous twinkle glinted in his dark eyes, and was accompanied by a short-lived devilish grin. She finally saw his moment.
"Miss Gray, I've come to sit for you."
"That's wonderful, Professor. Excuse me, everyone, I have some sketching to do." Lindsay's excitement was obvious. She made no attempt to hide it, but some observers found it a bit disconcerting.
"That wasn't suspicious in the least," remarked Hermione as the two adults left the common room.
###
"I hope tea is acceptable, Professor. I'm not a drinker, so I don't keep alcohol in."
"Tea is fine," replied Snape.
Lindsay moved to her kitchenette. "Make yourself at home...did you hear that?" She went to her bedroom door, which was open. She never left it open. "Anyone in there?"
Two werewolves jumped out at her, growling and snarling. Lindsay yelled and jumped away. She felt herself being jerked backwards by a pincer-like grip on her arm. Snape stood in front of her. His wand was drawn and aimed.
Both werewolves raised their hands above their heads. "Don't shoot! It's us, Fred and George!"
Lindsay laughed hysterically. "You scared the hell out of me!"
"That was the idea," said Fred. Lindsay pulled at Fred's snout. "Ow!"
"Is that your skin?"
"Of course," answered Fred. "What good is a costume that comes off?"
"They look so realistic," said Lindsay.
"We haven't perfected them yet," replied George, "but we're nearly there."
Snape holstered his wand, looking greatly relieved. "Out! You'll both be seeing Filch tomorrow evening. Twenty points each from Gryffindor for endangering the safety of others...and yourselves."
The twins left in single file, dropping white feathers as they went. Their fronts were near perfect replicas of werewolves, but the backs of their costumes looked like ducks.
"You're dropping feathers, Fred."
"I'm molting, George."
"Those are two more reasons why I don't keep alcohol in here. They didn't mean any harm, Professor. They were just having some fun."
"I could have injured them quite badly as could anyone else with a wand and good reflexes."
It wasn't Lindsay's place to challenge Snape's authority, so she let the matter rest. She rubbed her right arm. "You have a surprisingly strong grip, Professor."
"I apologize if I've injured you. I can come back another time."
"No need to apologize. I can handle a bruise. I'm left-handed anyway, so it's not a problem. If you would sit there next to my easel, we can get started." Lindsay moved to her desk to get her sketchpad. She stooped to pick up a soft, yellow, baby blanket from the floor. A plant, hopping along in its pot, rushed out from the dark space between her desk and the wall, and bit at her hands. "Did you drop your blankie, Herbie?" She put the blanket over the nasty plant's head. "Night-night, Herbie, night-night." It hopped back into the corner and pulled the blanket around itself. She turned back to Snape who was scowling. "Neville brought him in. The bigger plants were picking on him. He'll be able to go back when he's done teething. He's growing so quickly--eats coffee grounds like there's no tomorrow. He'll go to sleep if I sing to him. You don't mind, do you?"
Snape didn't reply. Lindsay began to softly sing a lullaby as she set up her easel and pencils. She looked at Snape and rose to position his face. He hadn't expected that she'd be touching him. She pushed his hair behind his ears and turned his head. She stepped back, observed his features, and then repositioned him. She did this several times before sitting in front of her easel. All the contact made him very uncomfortable, and he resisted the urge to scratch his suddenly itchy face. She finished singing the lullaby and immediately carried on singing something else. Snape didn't recognize the lyrics, but it sounded like the melody she'd played for him a few nights ago. He'd had a headache then, and asked her to play something softer than the Paganini piece she usually played for him. She had a lovely singing voice.
He thought her habit of blathering to him was annoying, but he now found himself wishing she'd speak to him. Singing to him made him uncomfortable for reasons he couldn't identify. He began to sweat. Lindsay apparently had quite good peripheral vision as her eyes rarely left his face. She'd never observed him so intensely before, and he didn't like it at all.
Lindsay abruptly stopped singing and set down her pencil. She rose and approached him, pulling a white handkerchief from her pocket to pat his face. "It's unnerving to be scrutinized, isn't it, Professor?"
He turned away from her and wiped his face with is sleeve. "Do you have what you need, Miss Gray?"
"Yes, thank you...." Snape rose and quickly left. He passed Dumbledore, who entered as Snape left. "He has the most unusual personality. I don't know what to make of him."
"Severus is a rare rose too shy to bloom," said Dumbledore.
"How poetic," said Lindsay cheerily.
"Quite." To Dumbledore, Severus was a beautifully imperfect creature. Try as he might, he just couldn't make the boy understand that love in all its myriad forms was the key to happiness and the true purpose of life. To find it, one must open oneself to another; one must trust deeply and unreservedly. Dumbledore had remarked upon the subject of love quite often over the years, but Severus had never shown any interest whatsoever in the topic. He remained silent and secretive. "You've finally managed to sketch him."
"Yes, I think I'll be able to start painting his portrait now."
"You don't mind if I put the kettle on, do you?"
"Of course not, help yourself. I'll just get tidied up over here."
"You still insist on doing things manually, I see," remarked Dumbledore, who'd opted to use magic to get the tea started.
"It's habit, I guess. I'm tactile, I need to touch things."
"Perhaps a wand might help to curb that tendency. I believe Severus has to run some errands in the morning. I wonder if he wouldn't mind taking you to Ollivander's."
"That would be nice. I love shopping trips. What is our objective for the evening, Professor?"
"Are you familiar with Occlumency?"