Chapter 192 - The Heartless Slytherin

The four girls huddled together, barely managing to summon the courage to say a few scattered words. Don't forget. Think of me. Write letters. Send gifts. And above all, stay safe.

Those who remain wish the one leaving a safe journey. The one leaving wants those who remain to live well.

Becky Bulstrode stood to the side holding Millicent's suitcase. She pulled a cigarette from her pocket and lit it, taking a drag.

The last time someone had been sad to see her leave, that had to be at least twenty years ago.

This is what it means to be young. Emotions brimming over like a Scottish loch in March. Still shedding tears over a parting.

Millicent was gone.

The British rarely say "Goodbye." They say "See you later," "Catch you later", as if the next meeting is just around the corner.

But this time, none of them could bring themselves to utter any "later." After a long pause, all they managed was a single "Take care."

Millicent finally boarded the Hogwarts Express, bound from Scotland to London, and from there on to South America.

Becky was rummaging through her bag for snacks to give her niece when Millicent suddenly burst into loud sobs.

She craned her neck to look over. Millicent had pulled a squashed pound cake from her suitcase.

"What's wrong?" Becky asked, puzzled. "What's the problem with that?"

Millicent shook her head, tears streaming. She took out a slice and shoved it into her mouth, eating and crying at the same time.

She mumbled indistinctly, "Auntie. When you're feeling unwell, you eat pound cake."

Becky had never heard of such a notion. But she didn't stop her niece. She simply asked the trolley attendant for a cup of juice, in case Millicent choked.

As for whether it was choking on food or crying until she got the hiccups, Becky couldn't tell, and Millicent herself couldn't distinguish either.

The three girls returned to the Slytherin girls' dormitory. They sat on their respective beds in silence.

Pansy and Daphne had simultaneously lost the energy to continue packing.

"It's only one day later. I'll stay for Dumbledore's funeral too," Pansy said, her voice somewhat hoarse. "Maybe I don't want to go through another parting just yet."

"I admit I never much appreciated her," Daphne said suddenly. "Crude. Single-minded. Blunt. And terribly proud of all those muscles."

Pansy and Praeris looked at Daphne with a touch of bewilderment. They didn't understand why, the moment Millicent was gone, Daphne had started tearing into her.

Daphne scratched at the top of her head, saying with some irritation, "But I never expected she'd have to leave. Just a few days ago I was mocking her for trading brain power for muscle power. I should have been nicer to her. There might not be another chance."

"Is the final impression she has of me really just —" Daphne paused, then said in frustration, "that I'm really rhythmically good at insulting people? That's just too unseemly!"

Watching Daphne, the other two wore expressions that were both pained and slightly wanting to laugh. Their faces looked rather contorted for a moment.

Yesterday, Praeris had agreed to treat Bill Weasley, so she returned once more to that empty underground classroom.

In the corner still sat some chipped cauldrons she had used, boxes of cheap ingredients, and oddly shaped phials.

Back then, she couldn't get to Diagon Alley or Hogsmeade, so she had gone scavenging in the Room of Requirement's rubbish heap for unbroken phials, as long as Dumbledore didn't taste any glass shards, it was a good bottle.

Now Praeris was once again sifting through the rubbish heap she herself had created. She unexpectedly found some leftover holly leaves and honeysuckle.

This year she had been quite reckless. She didn't even bother glancing at leftover ingredients like these, she simply asked Professor Snape for new ones directly.

Conditions were different now.

Praeris crouched down and began picking through the usable bits.

More troublesome was that the snake venom was nearly at the bottom of the bottle. She'd either have to use it sparingly, or go find Potter again. But what was she worrying about that for? Unless Potter didn't want Bill Weasley to be a normal person.

Since Bill's injury was to his face, however, certain humanitarian considerations had Praeris pondering another question: perhaps she ought to make the potion's properties a bit gentler.

KNOCK, KNOCK.

Praeris didn't look up. She only rolled her eyes upward. The dark green potion, lit by the firelight, made her look like some sort of wicked witch.

"Who is it?" Praeris called.

"Harry Potter."

Praeris lowered her gaze again. "Come in."

In the hospital wing, Harry hadn't said a single word. But he had looked at her with a gaze full of hatred and restrained fury.

From that moment, Praeris had been waiting for this one.

Harry pushed open the classroom door. His green eyes fixed directly on Praeris, then shifted to the cauldron before her. "Bill's potion?"

"Not yet, as of now," Praeris said calmly. "You've come at a good time. Help me ask Slughorn for a few horned toads — I'm afraid I can't get them myself right now."

"It's not that you can't get them," Harry said coolly. "It's that you don't want to answer any of his questions."

Praeris stirred the cauldron once and said evenly, "Not answering means not getting them. Same thing."

It seemed Bill's injury and the unknown aftereffects were more important after all. Harry turned and left, actually going to ask Slughorn for the specimens.

"Wait a moment!" Praeris called him back. She picked up a piece of parchment from the table. "And these too. Ask for extra — the experiments use up a lot."

Harry took a deep breath, his chest heaving. He struggled to suppress the fire burning inside him. "Wait here."

Praeris couldn't care less what Harry thought. She had work to do: brew the potion, bottle it, label it, switch ingredients, brew again.

Harry was gone for quite a while before finally returning. Two spots on the phial rack in front of Praeris were already occupied.

He set a crate down beside her table. "Tell me the truth. Can Bill be completely cured?"

"Harry, no doctor will ever tell you they can definitely cure some difficult condition," Praeris said mildly. "We only ever say: we'll do our best."

Harry looked at Praeris with deep, searching eyes. After a long moment, he said, "Your potions talent is exceptional."

"You flatter me."

"Inherited from Snape?"

Praeris stopped the motion of her hands. She realized the potion currently in the cauldron was doomed to be wasted. She simply moved it aside and extinguished the flame.

"I'm glad you think I've thoroughly received the true teachings," she said composedly.

She thought seriously for a moment and decided this was a suitable time to torment some horned toads. She reached out to open Harry's crate and fish one out.

She didn't succeed. Harry blocked her.

He grabbed Praeris's hand and said mockingly, "Thoroughly received the true teachings, or a bloodline inheritance — you know perfectly well yourself."

Praeris was beginning to feel annoyed. She pulled her hand free from Harry's grasp and said coldly, "Show some respect. My hands are important, Mr. Potter."

"The Half-Blood Prince is Snape," Harry said, as if interrogating her. "But you claimed the Half-Blood Prince was your relative!"

Praeris sat down in a chair, settled into a comfortable position, clasped her hands together, and tilted her head. "How strange. You've actually gotten clever?"

"He told me himself!" Harry stood up in anger. "While I was chasing him down!"

"Ah."

Praeris drew out the sound. "That explains it, then."

"I didn't believe it at first," Harry said, ignoring Praeris's insufferable attitude. "But Hermione found some information. For your sake, she kept hesitating over whether to tell me."

Hermione had found records of Eileen Prince's existence in the library. After Dumbledore's death, Hermione learned from Harry that Snape claimed he was the Half-Blood Prince.

So, yesterday afternoon, Hermione searched the newspapers and found the marriage of Eileen Prince to the Muggle Tobias Snape, along with their son, Severus Snape.

In an instant, it all clicked for Hermione. Praeris had said she was a relative of the Half-Blood Prince, and she happened to bear the surname Prince, so Praeris must have a direct familial connection to Eileen Prince.

Snape's special treatment of Praeris was not only because of her genius. The two of them were relatives all along.

How Hermione wanted to ask Praeris what this was really all about. But a few days earlier, Praeris had already taken back the two-way mirror.

Looking back now, Hermione suddenly felt a chill run down her spine. Why had Praeris taken back the two-way mirror right before this happened? Who had she taken it back to give it to?

The truth, Dumbledore's death, and all these many questions tormented Hermione.

Though she had resolved to tell Harry everything, she kept saying to him, "I think there might be more to this..."

"From never trusting you, to learning to trust you," Harry said, his face flushed red with anger. "I've traveled a long road. I even started to think Slytherin wasn't the way I used to believe. But now Snape has killed Dumbledore, and you — Hermione trusted you completely, and you betrayed that trust."

Harry said this, but in his heart, there was no small amount of displaced anger.

Snape had easily blocked his attacks and even mocked Harry for using his own spells against him. He couldn't help thinking: if he had known earlier that Snape was the Half-Blood Prince, could Harry have had a chance to stop him and avenge Dumbledore?

"I don't believe I betrayed Hermione," Praeris said, still just as calm. "Nor do I deny that Professor Snape is my relative. For that, I must thank Dumbledore."

Harry suddenly shouted in fury, "Don't mention those two names in the same breath!"

"If you want the truth, then you'll have to accept this." Praeris's tone was steady and clear. "I have no father, and I barely have a mother to speak of. In other words, I'm an orphan."

Harry froze. His mind seemed to jam on something, unable to turn over.

"I spent 6 or 7 years as an orphan," Praeris said lightly. "And then I came to Hogwarts. I suspect that, in those early years, I showed the aptitude to become a dark witch."

"Dumbledore convinced Professor Snape to look after me." She was well-versed in the art of language. "And convinced Ms. Peregrine to become my mother and take me into her household registry. So I have never lied to you. My current mother is indeed Primm Peregrine."

"You're lying to me right now!" Harry said through gritted teeth. "You're making it sound as if Snape only accepted you because of Dumbledore, as if there was no connection between you before that!"

"Ah. How do you expect me to put this?"

Praeris put on an air of believe-what-you-will. "To my knowledge, on the day Dumbledore spoke with him, Professor Snape only then learned of my existence. That same day, he agreed to look after me."

"I understand what you're getting at. Indeed, Professor Snape and I share blood ties." Praeris spread her hands. "But his relationship with my biological mother was terribly poor."

"To be honest, according to those in the know, my biological mother had a better relationship with your parents, Sirius, and Professor Lupin."

Praeris's air of utter certainty made Harry realize that if he truly went to ask Sirius, he would indeed get the same answer.

But he didn't feel any better in the slightest. Instead, he said with disappointment, "Is this how you Slytherins are? In the past, you defended Snape in every way, were so closely associated with him, and now that the situation has changed, you shed the connection so easily."

Harry recalled the scene of Slughorn's drastic change in attitude toward Marcus. How similar it was to what stood before him now.

"You see it quite clearly!" Praeris said in surprise. "It's always like this. This is called forsaking darkness for light. Shouldn't you be pleased for me? Surely you don't expect me to go join the Dark Lord alongside Professor Snape!"

"You still call him Professor?"

Praeris said with complete indifference, "Harry, it's called manners. I still address Mr. Lupin as Professor to this day, even though he is no longer our professor."

Though Harry hated Snape so much, hated him for killing Dumbledore, for revealing the prophecy to Voldemort, he still felt that Snape didn't deserve this. To have such a fair-weather student.

Perhaps this was the retribution for his betrayal. Harry thought, not without a measure of grim satisfaction: Snape had betrayed Dumbledore, and now he had to experience Praeris's betrayal.

"What about Malfoy?" Harry couldn't help asking. "Don't you care about him either?"

Praeris clasped her hands together and said with a smile, "What a thing to say. How interesting. Love is a privilege of the wealthy. People like us, who've climbed up from the bottom, can't rely on it to survive."

At last, Praeris revealed her cruelty as a Slytherin. It was so stark that Harry even felt a little indignant on Malfoy's behalf.

He couldn't help saying, "I admit I hate Malfoy. But Voldemort used his parents' lives to threaten him into killing Dumbledore. He couldn't do it..."

A crack appeared in Praeris's perfect performance. She said with astonishment, "If I'm not mistaken, are you sympathizing with Draco?"

Harry fell silent. After a long pause, he said, "It seems rather ridiculous, doesn't it? I thought I would hate him as thoroughly as I always did."

Praeris shook her head, finding it all rather absurd. The Malfoys' allies only ever kicked them when they were down. And their enemies, of all people, were sympathizing with Draco.

➤ Next: The Funeral of a Living Dead Man