Finally, it is time to brew the potion. Professor Snape keeps checking the door, making sure that we aren't interrupted by Professor Umbridge. This leaves me to follow the instructions on my own, which I know off by heart.

All of the components are pre-crushed and peeled and cleaned, obviously by me, in preparation for this night.

I mix them, counting each swirl since my life depends on my accuracy. I switch the direction of the swirl after the Ashwinder eggs have finished boiling, and then stir three times before adding in the murtlap tentacle. The potion flashes a bright colour, and it burns my eyes but I don't look away.

As the bright light fades, I quickly powder the rue (which must be freshly done) then I drop it delicately into the cauldron. I continue on, adding in the rest of the ingredients, my sleeves rolled up past my elbow, sweat beading on my forehead that I don't dare let drip into the concoction.

A blast of air shoots out of the cauldron, blowing at my hair that's been pulled back into a braid. It flashes with sparkles of gold and silver, before dimming, until it is finally clear. Almost all of it has evaporated into smoke, with that gust of air blowing past, leaving only about 10 millilitres.

Professor Snape walks over. "Bottle it. Quickly."

I respond by quickly using a funnel to get all that it is into a small bottle. It is half the size of my pinkie finger. The bottle is special. I bought it from Hogsmeade, and it has a long chain around it, so that I can wear it as a necklace.

After all, I still share a room with Elora, Bronwyn, and three other Slytherin girls. I'm not repeating the mistakes I made with the Veritaserum.

"Excellent," Professor Snape says. "Well done, Miss Travers."

I look up at him and offer him the smallest of smiles. It is late March, and I am already done with my studies. Finally, I offer a smile. "Thank you, Professor."

"Our lessons are ending here," he points out. "The potion will have to sit for six months before you consume it. Now, if you'll be so kind as to leave, that would be much appreciated."

I offer one final nod as I duck out of his classroom. From there, I head down the stairs. Footsteps are coming up from above me. I turn around and lookup. Standing in shadow, I can see a figure. The figure stops and pauses to look at me. It's a good fifty metres away; it could be a professor (in which case I'm screwed).

Still, it does not move towards me. So, I pull out my wand.

"Lumos maximum," I cast, and I light up the space, revealing both myself and Harry Potter.

He stares at me, brow furrowed. I take a step closer, and so does he, until we meet halfway up the stairs.

"What are you doing?" I ask, looking him up and down.

"Sneaking about," he answers, swallowing. He looks around us, checking for any intruders. "What are you doing?"

"Meeting with Professor Snape," I tell him.

Harry Potter leans in closer. "Is he teaching you Occlumency?"

Occlumency? What a strange art to mention. Perhaps Professor Snape is breaking more rules than I had expected.

"No," I pull out the vial and show it to Harry Potter. "We're brewing together. Liquid Luck."

"Oh," he says, and his voice is small. "Well. I'm late."

"Right," I answer, stepping aside.

I stand there and watch as he heads into Professor Snape's room. From there, I assume that Professor Snape is teaching him Occlumency. Finding myself with more questions than answers, answers that will almost definitely never quite be satisfied, I head down the stairs, back towards the dungeons.

Once downstairs, I creep inside, hoping that if anyone is still sneaking about, that they don't tell on me. Slytherins are all secrets and whispers and rumours after all. I can't blame them if I behave the same way, so I'm not upset about it.

In the Common Room, I can hear a hushed voice. I'd recognize it anywhere. There is one, decently louder, that is whispering back.

"I don't understand why you can't just become a Death Eater for me," Bronwyn says. "Do you know how many letters I have gotten from my Father? Do you have any idea the kind of pressure that I'm under?"

"Did you tell him?" Silas asks.

"That I broke up with you?" Bronwyn huffs. "Obviously not. I don't want to have to marry Landry. He's insufferable."

I bend down onto my knees and elbows, and I slowly peek my head around the corner. The pair of them are standing in front of the fireplace. They are lit by the soft glow of the fire, turning Bronwyn's icy hair a warm yellow and Silas's tan skin golden. They stare at each other in silence for a few seconds, and then I'm sure that they've heard me and that they are going to come for my neck any second now.

"Have we, broken up?" Silas asks. He takes her hand, and she pulls away.

"You aren't willing to fight for me," Bronwyn says. "I want someone who wants me so desperately. Is that too much to ask?"

Silas swallows. We both know that he can never give her that. "What are your options then? Besides Landry and Marcus Flint?"

She flinches. "Excuse me?"

"We just," the desperation begins to claw its way out of Silas's throat. There are tears in his eyes now, tears that he bites back. "We just are each other's only options. You know that Landry will never even care for you as a friend. As for Marcus, he's smitten with Larkin. Can you stand to always be second best to her?"

"My family is better than hers," Bronwyn says. "She's a disgrace."

"She's talented though, so much so that she doesn't need them," Silas says. "Besides, my family is wealthier than both the Travers and the Flints."

"I could marry Malfoy if I wanted," Bronwyn says. "It would do us both good."

Silas takes his hands in hers, and she doesn't recoil. "You know that Malfoy will never love you as I do. You know I care about you, right?"

"If you loved me, you would work for the Dark Lord," Bronwyn hisses and turns her back to him.

I duck out of view, if only briefly. I hear shuffling, and I peek around the corner to watch as Silas wraps his hand over Bronwyn's shoulders.

"Do you know what they do to people?" he asks, softly. He puts a hand up to her face and caresses it. "People like me?"

"Like you how?" Bronwyn asks.

She doesn't know, does she? Am I the only one who Silas entrusted with his secret?

"You must know," he says. "You must know what goes on with Ander and me."

Bronwyn shakes her head back and forth. I wish I could make out her face. All I've got is the tone of her voice. For the first time that I've ever heard, she whispers. "I can't believe it."

"You must," Silas reassures her. "It's the truth."

Bronwyn sits down in the chair. Silas kneels in front of her, holding her hands in his still.

"You know what they do to people like me," he insists, his voice firm. "You know what happens to people who can't carry on the line. We have to do this."

"I... I know I can find someone who will love me," Bronwyn insists, her voice shaking.

"No, you won't," Silas says.

My chest tightens. He reaches into the pocket of his cloak and pulls out a small box. Out, he pulls a ring, the diamonds flashing despite the dim light. My hand flies over my mouth to prevent me from gasping aloud.

"Will you marry me, Bronwyn Yaxley?" he asks, his eyes flickering from her to me.

She straightens in the chair. "Will you work for the Dark Lord, Silas Selwyn?"

He ends up staring at me. Bronwyn spins around in her chair and spots me. In a flash, she pulls out her wand, just as I roll behind the wall and out of sight. I pick up my wand and turn around.

With one flick of the wrist, I curse her.

She doubles backwards and hits the ground. She coughs and turns, vomiting a slug out onto the shag carpet. Silas crouches down next to her, dropping the ring so he can hold her hair up.

"Why would you do that?" Silas asks.

"I didn't want my head to inflate again, and it felt like the easiest way out," I hiss. "Keep your voice down."

"I'm sure that," Bronwyn tries to speak but is interrupted as another slug comes out of her mouth.

"Please, you've probably already woken up half the dormitory with this curse," Silas says. "Would you please just leave?"

As Silas helps her up and begins to bring her towards the corridor, I run up the stairs.

~~~~~

Welp. I love this chapter. What do y'all think of Silas now? I think he's still my favourite character, just because of how complex he is. I'm really excited to see what you all think!