By Friday, Bertha Jorkins had somehow learned that Rowan had asked Terry to attend Slughorn's dinner party with her. According to Jorkins, Potter had been traded in for a more docile partner. Jorkins did not mention the fact that Potter had been seen going to Hogsmeade with another girl nor that Terry Greengrass was anything but docile and only fragile in appearance. But Jorkins would quickly come to regret her words as Terry began to plot. Oh, yes, when Terry Greengrass plotted even Rowan was afraid.
That Saturday morning had started like any other day for Bertha Jorkins until the moment she looked into the bathroom mirror. Her hair had fallen out during the night, but worst of all her, her skin was now bright blue! It was said that her screams could be heard all the way over to the Gryffindor Tower.
By breakfast everyone was aware of what had occurred earlier that morning as Terry innocently buttered a slice of toast. All six of them including Regulus just stared at Terry as Rowan said, "It was you, wasn't it?"
"Hypothetically even if it was me," Terry hummed. "There is no concrete proof tying anything back to me."
Severus warily stares at his dormmate, while Regulus just stares at Terry in awe. Even with the combined minds of his friends, Regulus and his friends hadn't been able to produce this level of terror in Bertha Jorkins.
Tiffany shivers and hides behind Bethanie as Silvia merely stares at Terry. "How did you get into the Ravenclaw tower without being discovered?"
Rowan suddenly looks at Severus who glances away. "Is that why you asked me for THAT, Severus?"
"What?" Silvia asked as Terry and Bethanie stare at Rowan in confusion.
Terry nonchalant shrugs as Severus lets out a huff. "I owed Terry."
"I know, that's why I didn't protest," Rowan sighed. "Best forget about it, then. Just know that I'll never help you again, Severus." Yes, the foolish weak-hearted person that she was had used up one of her precious three opportunities to borrow Potter's cloak on a single time favor for Severus. Bah, sibling love was way overrated!
The rest of the day passes by rather quickly as later in the afternoon, Rowan puts on gray silk trousers, a silky soft blue V-neck sweater with a silk blouse underneath. Tiffany wanted to do Rowan's hair and makeup, but Rowan politely refused. It wasn't a real date, nor did she want to make Silvia feel any more anxious than she already was.
Close to six-thirty, Rowan went down into the common room, where Terry was waiting for her. Terry looked rather rice in a dark blue dinner jacket with a white collared silk shirt and matching dark vest with fine trousers. With his hair elegantly sleeked back, he offers her the crook of his arm. "Milady?" Terry said with a crooked grin.
Rolling her eyes, Rowan takes his offered hand. "C'mon now," Rowan said as Terry led her out of the common room to the interest of those watching. In their mind's eye, there was a potential for the Greengrass family to seek a possible future marriage with the Princes. And a Slytherin always kept a good eye on potential future marriage alliances. Because that's how powerful family dynasties are born.
Very quickly they could hear the sound of music, soft laughter and conversations having already started. Whether having built that way or having magically made so, Slughorn's office was much larger than the usual teacher's study. The ceiling and walls this evening were dr.a.p.ed in emerald and blue hangings to look as they were inside an elegant vast tent. The room was only a bit crowded as the rest of those invited had yet to arrive.
The room was a bit warm as golden ornate lamps poured off golden like light. While smack dap in the center of the ceiling real fairies were fluttering about, each a speck of light. Rowan bared her teeth at the nasty teethed buggers as Terry gave her a wary look. "So, exactly why do you hate fairies?"
"Evil sharp-toothed little buggers," Rowan grunted.
"So, did you get bitten by one?" Terry curiously asked.
"No," Rowan darkly answered daring Terry to ask her more on the subject.
Terry tactfully did not ask again as they turned to stare at the crowd. In the corner musicians played, while a haze of pipe smoke hung over some elderly warlocks in deep conversation. A number of house elves in neat little black uniforms make their way through the throng as they elegantly serve and carry silver platters of food.
"Ah, there you are, Miss Prince," Professor Slughorn exclaimed as he trotted over to them. Wearing a tasseled velvet hat with matching smoke jacket, Professor Slughorn looked a bit like a round teddy bear plushie.
"Come this way," Slughorn said as he clamped his hand onto Rowan's arm and dragged her away, while she sadly lost Terry to the crowd. He'd be just fine, probably.
"Here we are!" Professor Slughorn said as he deposited Rowan before a towering wizard.
Straightening up, Rowan finds herself staring at a cold faced wizard with sleeked back hair wearing dark green robes. "Hello sir," Rowan tilted her head at him.
"Rowan Prince?" The wizard flatly asked as he studied her. "I was expecting a boy."
Rowan doesn't reply and instead turns towards Professor Slughorn. "Won't you introduce us, Professor?"
"Ah, yes, where are my manners?" Professor Slughorn nervously laughed. "Allow me to present, Potion Master, Damocles Belby."
Glancing at the two of them, Slughorn hastily says, "Well, I have better greet the arriving guests. I shall see you all later!" Before rushing away quite gratefully through the increasing throng of people.
"I expected someone older," Damocles said as he pressed his thin lips into a frown.
"Yes, well, you're not exactly what I pictured either," Rowan countered back.
Damocles lips twitch as he says, "So, I must ask, where did you find IT?"
"In between the covers of a book," Rowan replied, which was true after all.
"A Slytherin answer."
"As I recall, you're a Slytherin as well, Master Belby."
There is a lapse of silence until Rowan finally ventures to ask, "So, did it work?"
"I have not yet tried out the second or the third round yet. But yes, already the teste has lost their cursed bite."
The both of them fall silent again as they let the crowds chatter wash over them. Damocles is the first to break the silence this time. "Do you truly not wish for any recognition?"
"I am not the one who has spent their whole life on such a worthy cause," Rowan matter-of-factly stated. "I don't need thanks nor require recognition for something I have not earned with my own two hands. You, on the other hand, have more than earned it. All, I've done is speed up your life's work."
"You're fairly certain I would create a cure," Damocles observed with interest.
"I am," Rowan matter-of-factly stated, before turning to leave. "It was a pleasure, Master Belby. But a word of advice, if the cure was presented right before the World Quidditch Cup, your name and fame will spread far and wide in a matter of weeks if not days."
Damocles watches the tall slender girl with dark midnight hair with darker eyes go. "She certainly resembles her grandfather," Damocles muttered to himself.
Her grandfather had much been the same way. Shrugging off thanks of gratitude as Reginald Prince had said he was merely a passerby, before leaving the stunned, but grateful Damocles, who'd been saved from being killed by a warlock. But still, he owed a life debt to her grandfather and now to her as well. He'd do his best to repay them both in the nearby future.
Striding away, Damocles excused himself without a word to Slughorn. He had a potion to finish, but more importantly an illness to finish curing.