Cat watched the sun begin to rise into the crystal-blue horizon from a ridge overlooking the Quidditch Stadium. She held her knees to her chest whilst her blue striped scarf fluttered behind her in the wind. She felt angry and empty. On her shoulder, Havelock was curled into a secure ball with his tail dangling down her back. Every now and then he made a little squeak in his sleep, seeming to be having a restless dream.

Cat smiled each time she felt him move - she was wondering what exactly a rat had to dream about when the grass beside her shifted and another sat beside her. Glancing out of the corner of her eyes, she saw the most unexpected - and unwanted - person by her side.

“So, what are you going to say to me first?” asked Professor Snape, clad in a thick black coat, with an equally dark scarf wrapped about his neck, “What do you want, Professor? Go away, Professor? I don’t want to talk to you, Professor?”

Cat’s gaze tightened on him, “Are you reading my mind?” she muttered.

He turned to her and faced her head-on with his bleak, empty eyes; “I’m reading your face.”

Cat looked down, a slight smile pricking unexpectedly at the corner of her lips; “Close enough,” she murmured, “But I was going to ask you what you wanted, sir. I know that strolling around isn’t something you do normally… Nor is making conversation, for that matter. No offence.”

He didn’t reply her for a moment. He stared across at the Stadium ahead. Cat followed his gaze and saw the tiny blips of the Slytherin Quidditch team zip and dive through the air. There was no Quidditch this term, but the teams still wanted to keep their practise up ready for the next school year.

“I came to offer you an apology,” he then murmured, his voice smooth and silky.

Cat blinked, half thinking that she’d misheard him completely.

“It is not something I feel the need to do often, so treasure it whilst you can, Miss Madison,” he added.

Cat thought she sensed a whimsical undertone in his words, but she daren’t laugh.

“I feel that I was not wholly justified in what I said to you. I had no idea that you had suffered such a loss at home.”

Cat sighed, staring at her feet whilst Havelock made a little peep, fidgeting a little before returning to sleep; “I was glad when my first letter from Hogwarts arrived. It meant that I could get away. I wanted to get away, to be away from my parents and live my own life. But now I realise that I’d been taking my mum and dad for granted, and not respecting the fact that they are… I mean, were Muggles. I was too busy wallowing in selfish pride at being something they weren’t and being able to lecture them on things for once.” She felt a tear rise in the corner of her eye, “But now they’re gone and I feel so guilty. How could I have been so stupid? They’re gone now and I can never tell them how much I loved them again, or tell them… tell them--”

She stopped, stroking Havelock and wiped her tears on her scarf as her voice got trapped in her throat. She just shook her head and waited for the hysteria to pass.

Havelock opened his eyes drowsily and sniffed at the air, seeming to sense the presence of the Potions Master by Cat’s side. Despite his disapproval, he went back to sleep regardless.

She picked up a stone and tossed it down the hillside; “I wish I could change my life,” she hissed, before she tossed another stone after the last, but much harder this time, “But I can’t. I CAN‘T!”

She turned to him again, wondering why she’d just unlade all that onto Snape’s shoulders, of all people.

“It isn’t an easy existence,” he said, “Just feel fortunate that you had caring parents when they were still alive. You see, Miss Madison, I lost my parents to a slow corruption, something just as unbearable as a fatal accident, if I may be so bold to say. I was a child who cowered in the corners at home. I had parents who argued. And I was not a happy child.”

She swallowed, imagining Snape as a child being hard enough by itself; “I… didn’t know. Sir.”

He smirked darkly, “Not many people know much about me, Miss Madison, and I pray that they never do. My life has been an ugly one.”

Cat didn’t know what to say or what to do.

Suddenly, however, Snape got to his feet; “I just wanted to let you know that I’m not completely unsympathetic.” He tapped her arm ever so lightly as he walked past, “Good day, Miss Madison.”

“Good day, sir,” she stuttered, trying to get over what had just happened.

“He sat there and talked to you?” Dale spat across the Ravenclaw table that dinner after Cat had told them what had happened, “Were you awake? Were you under some sort of spell?”

Cat threw Dale a ‘very funny’ look; “I was completely and utterly sane… unlike some people here.”

Dale shrugged and sat back, “You said it.”

Joanne suddenly appeared and, shoving Dale along the bench, plonked herself dead opposite Cat in his place; “Gimme the gossip, now!” she ordered.

“Snape. He came and talked to me this morning. Civilly.”

Jo gaped, “Civilly?”

She nodded.

“Wow,” Jo gasped, blinking hard, “Perhaps Trelawny was right when she told me my closest friend’s fortunes would be looking up. What did he say? ‘Sorry’?”

“Not exactly, but as good as…”

Jo gaped, “I was joking.”

“Oh… well, it’s true.”

“It’s a conspiracy,” Richard piped, looking up from the mash potatoes he’d been very interested in up until now, “He’s trying to unhinge the noble eagle by doing what snakes do - slithering, trying to get friendly with us - or namely Cat - so that, when the time‘s right --” He growled loudly at a first year to his right, “He’ll strike!”

The poor first year boy jumped out of his skin and threw his carrot cake across the hall onto the head of a rather surly-looking sixth year Hufflepuff. Matt, meanwhile, simply applauded Richard for the performance whilst Cat looked at him incredulously.

“That’s the most stupid thing I’ve ever heard, Dick,” she said plainly.

Richard shrugged, impartial, “It sounded good, though, didn’t it?”

Jo was helping the frightened first year by pacifying the Hufflepuff with tales of Richard’s mental tenacity, whilst Cat found her eyes wandering to the staff table - Professor Snape was there, as usual, and as crabby as ever. She hadn’t told her friends about his dreadful childhood - she had too much honour for that. Even so, if she ever needed a weapon against him, she now had one. Snape had pretty much offered her a dagger and she had nought but her own goodness stopping her from utilising it.

With a sigh she turned back to her meal.