Petals of Oleander

Chapter Eight: Elowen Kills Alwyn

Before I knew it, I was back in my dormitory getting ready for the first day of the new semester's classes. Kitsune was beating up her scalp with a brush. Over the break she had chopped her hair into a sleek, chin-length bob. I thought it looked fantastic, but she hated the way it fell around her face and refused to sit neatly behind her ears the way it had before. 

"My bloody hair will not cooperate." She hissed. 

"That is not anyone's fault but your own, love." Avalon retorted as she meticulously placed bobby pins around her tight, honey colored ballerina bun. 

"I think it looks great, and you're lucky you don't have curls like mine." Ondie chimed in as she too battled with a comb. I always thought she should just embrace her curls, but she insisted on keeping them in plaited pigtails fastened immovably to the sides of her head. Sometimes on especially rainy days, her hair would win the war and spring free around her face. She hated when that happened. 

"I wanted it to look FRENCH. I read that all the girls at Beauxbatons had short hair." Kitsune groaned.  

"Who wants to look like a dumb French girl anyways?" Miri offered.

Silence. That was quite possibly the most dimwitted fucking thing Miri had ever said. 

"Well anyway," I broke the awkwardness "We've got about fifteen minutes until class, so maybe we should get going?" 

They agreed and we all headed up out of the dungeons. My first class was potions, one I had been stressing about because Slytherins are meant to be good at it. I hoped it would come naturally, but if it was anything like cooking, I would most likely end up exploding castle. 

The potions classroom was dark and foreboding, only lit by candles and there was not a window in sight. I spotted an empty table and headed for it, not in the mood to socialize. I looked around at all the shelves stacked with ingredients of all varieties. Jars of eyeballs and pretty much all body parts belonging to a frog, twine strung between walls with all sorts of thorny sprigs hanging from them, and a massive cauldron at the front of the room for the professor to demonstrate with.

The professor walked into the room with the speed of a stallion, slamming the doors behind him and marching to the front with a grim look on his face. I had seen him many times prior to this, and that was the look he seemed to always have. He appeared to be constantly troubled. 

"Good morning, students. I am professor Snape and this is first year potions. If any of that sounds unfamiliar to you, I suggest you clear out now and spare yourself any further embarrassment." 

I found his voice extremely unsettling. His tone resonated in the back of his throat, and he spat out his consonants like they were unwelcomed guests at a funeral. He continued,

"Now, I will be taking attendance one time and one time only. Announce your presence clearly, or you shall be marked absent for the remainder of our time together in this class, do I make myself clear? Good."

He began the roll. I listened attentively for my name, not wanting to risk missing it. Professor Snape was not the kind of man I would want to make a poor first impression on. Soon, my name was called.

"Elowen," He paused, staring at me. I hadn't raised my hand yet, or spoken. How did he know who I was? "Black." My last name sounded like nails on a chalkboard coming from his mouth.

"Present." I said with a polite smile. He rolled his eyes and marked a check on his parchment. What was that about? I looked down, embarrassed. I must have done something wrong.  

When attendance was completed, Professor Snape began the lesson. We were making Dragon Tonic, basically Pepto-Bismol but for dragons. He did the demonstration quickly and with vague instructions, and then we began making our own. I wasted no time as I saw this as a possible redemption for myself. If I did well I thought maybe it would make up for... whatever I had done within the first 30 seconds of class.