Chapter 47

Durmstrang was known as a school of magic specializing in the dark arts, so Murtagh should be quite proficient in dark magic. When Severus and I arrived at the dark arts practice room at Prince Manor, I wasn't surprised to see Murtagh already there.

Perhaps this could be called special training by Murtagh?

Just as I had guessed, Murtagh was a very strict teacher. With a distinctly British accent, he pointed out our mistakes and flaws, repeatedly emphasizing that dark magic was dangerous and forbidden, leaving no room for levity. During our training sessions, Severus benefited greatly from every point Murtagh made, always staying sharp and attentive.

As for me, I was still a novice in dark magic at this stage. Understanding my situation, Murtagh took the time to guide me through each spell meticulously. My progress was swift, given that I had been studying Severus' notes for the past four months.

In addition to the dark arts training at Prince Manor, I began addressing my abysmal potions skills this holiday. In the Snape family's cellar, Severus and Lily took turns teaching me. One would instruct me on the practical steps starting from the simplest potions in the textbook, while the other would organize the essential theoretical knowledge I had to memorize. Initially, I had resigned myself to being hopeless at potions, ready to give up. However, seeing the effort Severus and Lily were putting in, I couldn't justify slacking off. For the first time, I truly dedicated myself to learning potions, not just to complete assignments but to genuinely understand the subject.

My memory wasn't bad, so memorizing the materials Lily prepared for me wasn't difficult. Understanding the properties and functions of various potions was crucial for patient treatment, a task that demanded precision. Regarding the practical side, I simply practiced diligently without aiming to become a potions master. I figured that as long as I could pass the N.E.W.T.s exams, I could finally put away cauldrons and stirring rods forever. The potions exam included both written and practical sections. If I could maximize my written scores, it would offset any practical mistakes. While achieving an 'Outstanding' seemed unlikely, a 'Good' was within reach.

Christmas break was just the beginning. Returning to school meant the exams were approaching rapidly. Under Severus' gentle guidance and Lily's strict supervision, I persevered through this significant challenge. Fortunately, Severus never gave up on me, and having him by my side made each practice session less daunting.

School days were busy with classes and revisions, making time fly. As the Easter holidays in March drew to a close, the fifth-year career counseling notices were posted in the common room.

"Sawyer, look at St. Mungo's flyer." Lily handed me a dark green leaflet, prominently displaying the St. Mungo's Hospital crest, crossed bones, and wands. "For the N.E.W.T.s exams, you need at least a 'Good' in Potions, Herbology, Transfiguration, Charms, and Defense Against the Dark Arts."

I shrugged. "At least it's 'Good'. If it required 'Outstanding', I'd go crazy."

"Don't be so pessimistic, Sawyer," Lily patted my back. "You've improved a lot, haven't you? Severus and I will help you all the way!"

I made a face. "It's not pessimism, just facts. I'm aiming for 'Good', hoping Professor Slughorn accepts O.W.L.s 'Good'."

"He will. The upperclassmen said his usual requirement is 'Good'. Professor Slughorn is quite lenient with students," Lily reassured me.

"That's great. As for the N.E.W.T.s 'Good', with two more years, I can definitely manage it!" I clenched my fist to encourage myself.

My career counseling was scheduled for this morning before classes, so I got up early to have a relaxed breakfast. The morning owl post had just arrived when Lily, reading the Daily Prophet, frowned at the front page.

"There was a large-scale conflict between the Order of the Phoenix and the Death Eaters yesterday. Many casualties on both sides," Lily told me after reading the article. My good mood vanished as I glared at the newspaper, as if it were the culprit.

"There's a list of the deceased, including the Death Eaters," Lily handed me the newspaper glumly.

I quickly scanned the names. "There are a few familiar Gryffindor surnames. Could be relatives of our classmates?"

As I put down the newspaper, I saw a few distraught faces at the long table. The hall's atmosphere turned heavy and oppressive after the Daily Prophet's arrival. Looking over at the Slytherin table, everything seemed as quiet as usual, with no one showing extra emotion, making it hard to read their feelings.

"Bloody war!" Lily cursed softly, leaving a piece of uneaten toast on her plate.

"Yeah, bloody war," I muttered, poking at my scrambled eggs, affected by the pervasive gloom.

Gradually, students left the hall, losing their appetite in the tense atmosphere. I pushed my plate away. "It's about time. I'm going to see Professor McGonagall."

"Alright, see you later," Lily said absentmindedly.

I wandered near the second floor, lost in thought. The war was drawing closer to us. In two years, after leaving Hogwarts, the protective ivory tower would be gone, and we might be forced to make choices. Being powerless, we would struggle to survive in the cracks, possibly offending both sides. Staying neutral meant finding new protection, and St. Mungo's was the best choice. I was more determined to master potions, this near-chemical subject.

The career counseling session was straightforward. Professor McGonagall emphasized the importance of potions, while other related subjects I had consistently kept at 'Good' or 'Outstanding' levels. Her words carried a note of approval, and her rare smile was quite encouraging.

A few days later, the school's atmosphere slightly improved. Carefree younger students continued their antics, alleviating the worries of the older students. I wasn't much affected, focusing on my potions studies. While memorizing the effects of an antidote, a familiar sound I hadn't heard in a long time suddenly appeared—a loud pop—and a tearful Tito stood on my desk.

I never restricted Tito, often letting it help another house-elf, Kaka, at the apothecary in Diagon Alley. It had the freedom to visit Aunt Druella whenever it wanted. Compared to other house-elves, it was quite free.

"What's wrong, Tito?" I asked, concerned as it collapsed on my desk, crying.

"Miss Druella is hurt, very ill! You said Tito could visit her, so Tito often went! But today, Tito saw many people around Miss Druella's bed, saying she was dying!" Tito's tear-streaked, snotty face looked up at me, letting out a loud sob before collapsing back into tears.

I was stunned. How could this happen suddenly? Tito wouldn't falsely claim that its beloved Aunt Druella was dying; it must be true. I remembered the recent conflict and wondered if it was related.

"Wait, Tito, explain clearly. What exactly happened?"

Tito pounded the desk. "Tito doesn't know! Tito only heard people inside saying Miss Druella was severely injured and had old wounds. They said surviving till today was a miracle! Tito couldn't help, bad Tito!" It began to hit the desk with its head.

I had to pick it up to prevent further damage to the desk and itself. The commotion drew Severus from the potions room. Seeing Tito, he was momentarily surprised but quickly resumed his usual calm, returning to the potions room, probably because he had a potion brewing.

After Tito calmed down a bit, I set it on the floor and knelt to its level, speaking gently.

"Tell me, when was the last time you saw Aunt Druella?"

"Last month. Miss Druella was healthy then. Oh... poor Miss!" Seeing it about to start crying again, I quickly interjected, "And when you left, how was she? Did you see her?"

Tito nodded. "Tito saw her. A wizard was treating her with spells, and others were praying! Tito felt she was dying, just like when Miss Sia died. Tito could only watch!"

I muttered a spell, effectively a calming draught. Tito gradually relaxed, only sniffling weakly. I rubbed my temples, as unexpected crises always seemed to arise.

Aunt Druella must have been involved in that battle a few days ago, sustaining severe injuries that aggravated old ailments, and now she might have passed away. It was a casualty of war.

I felt a sense of regret but not sorrow. She wasn't truly close to me. To me, she was just my mother's sister, a blood relative connecting me to the Rosier family. When we last met, she was a kind aunt, hoping for my safety, likely out of affection for my mother. But she was also a Death Eater, ruthless to her enemies. Though I hadn't seen her kill, I could imagine she showed no mercy in battle. Instinctively, I had avoided her since our last encounter. Now that she had passed, I felt oddly relieved—no more ties to Death Eaters or pureblood families.

Seeing Tito's sorrow, I felt a pang of guilt. Was I too heartless? She was my blood relative after all.

Severus emerged from the potions room again, holding a sealed vial. "Sawyer, can you give this to Lupin? He'll pass it to Dam."

"Sure." I gestured for him to wait and turned to Tito. "Can you stand?"

When Tito wobbled to its feet, I gently said, "Tito, I'm sorry about Aunt Druella, but it's not anyone's fault. You need to rest and go back to the apothecary. Kaka will take care of you. I need you to be in good spirits tomorrow morning."

Tito hoarsely agreed, bowed, and disappeared with a pop.

I turned to Severus, hugging him tightly. "Aunt Druella is dead."

Severus hesitated before patting my back. "Don't be too sad."

"The thing is, I'm not sad. Seeing Tito cry, I don't feel anything for a deceased relative," I said, looking up at him with a troubled expression. "Am I too cold-hearted?"

He raised an eyebrow, surprised. "That's what you're worried about?"

I nodded, burying my face in his shoulder. Hearing his amused snort, I nudged him with my head.

"Oh... alright, there's nothing to worry about. You're not cold-hearted. She was just a random aunt who suddenly appeared, a Death Eater hostile to Muggles and Gryffindors. It's normal not to see her as family. Tito is different; house-elves are loyal. Though you're its master now, it was originally loyal to your mother, Sia, and extended that loyalty to your aunt. Tito frequently visited her out of fondness for your mother. Now that she's gone, it's naturally heartbroken."

Listening to Severus' lengthy explanation to comfort me, I realized how trivial my worries were. I buried my head in his chest to hide my silly smile.