Mashup

   Through eagerly chatting people, the group made their way up towards the podium to take in seats that would be close enough to the staff table. At least that was what Hermione intended. It was easier to make them all follow than she had thought. She just walked straight on, forcing them to keep up if they wished to sit with her. Reaching the seats in favour, Luna said goodbye for the moment and spun to the Ravenclaw table, her back on them as Hermione turned hers on the Hufflepuffs, Ron sitting down to her right. Ignorant, she checked the long table that faced the students.

   Slowly the last teachers arrived. Even Professor Trelawney found her way to the right of a massive chair, which however remained empty. On its other side, McGonagall’s eyes scanned the hall. Dumbledore had sat down as well, engaging her in a conversation. The two chairs, one between him and Professor Burbage, who wore the longer side of her hair in an elegant knot that she checked with her right hand on which a golden ring glistened, and between her and Madam Pomfrey were lacking company. But a person to fill one of them was already on his way, being the last that entered through the backdoor for now.

   His big belly bumping, the new teacher flounced towards the gaps and already wanted to seat himself next to Dumbledore, though as if someone had spiked the chair with needles, he jumped up before he could touch it and rubbed his buttocks. The gasp that had escaped him, had drawn the attention of several students closest to the podium.

 

   “I guess, that seat’s reserved!”, he lilted in surprise.

   “Oh indeed, Horace, it is.”, Dumbledore chuckled, watching him take the other.

   “Well then,”, with a sigh, he turned to Burbage. “Good evening, dear. Tell me, can I remember you?”

   “I hardly think,”, she smirked and offered her hand, “Professor Slughorn. Or `Horace´, as it would be now, then? Charity Burbage.”

   “Ah of course!”, beaming, he shook her hand. “Goes for both. Hufflepuff, if I’m not mistaken?”

   “No, that’s right.”

   “Good, good. And what brings you back here? What would you be teaching?”, he spoke so loud it wasn’t difficult for Hermione to catch every word.

   “Muggle Studies.”

   “Ah! Interesting subject. Truly fascinating, yes. You see, dear Albus here,”, he shortly brandished at him, “Managed to convince me to take on my old job again. Cunning man. Really cunning.”, he didn’t notice the mass of black that came running through the backdoor, but almost everyone else did; students were pointing up to make their classmates look. “And how he is.”, Slughorn sang, when Dumbledore startled as Snape slid to halt at his left and bent to him, whispering into his ear. “Oho!”, he finally noticed the change of light as well. “And that would be the one who cost me the best seat then?”

   “Yes, that would be him.”, Burbage smirked; Dumbledore nodded and Snape rushed back off, his long cloak and hair billowing up behind.

   “Now what was that?”

   “Peeves,”, Dumbledore sighed to him, “Has started early.”

   “Still here, he is?”

   “Alas, he is bound to the castle, as you should know.”, there was a loud bang somewhere outside, making more heads turn for some moments.

   “Ah of course I know, yes. Merlin’s beard! Such a long time.”, his eyes wandered across the students when McGonagall raised to receive the first-years in the Entrance Hall, still limping a bit around the table and through the rows. “A lot has chanced, but nothing at all, is it?”

   “Yes, I would dare saying so as well, Horace. And it seems, he indeed succeeded.”

   “Peeves can be beaten? That would be news to me! Oh well, I remember a student who could do that,”

   “We all remember that student, believe me as I say.”, Dumbledore sighed again.

   “Whom are we talking about?”, Burbage asked in between, a knowing shimmer in her eyes.

   “Former student of mine,”, Slughorn spoke to her once more, “Rather unobtrusive. Oh when I say so, I must correct myself. People did notice him, when he hexed his jealous classmates. Clever mind, but wasted his talent far too early. Lost cases all over.”, the smile had disappeared from his face and he dwelled in memories. “He fell for the Dark Arts already in his schooldays. I daresay myself, I did see it coming. But I had hope, he would find a lighter way, with this brilliant girl at his side. Goodness, I remember – he had given you tutoring, hadn’t he? Oh dear, oh dear. What a shame. Such a waste, yes. Not the tutoring, of course, I believe, don’t get me wrong!”

   “Can you get something out of that blabbering?”, Ron chuckled.

   “Oh yes.”, Hermione meant. “A lot, actually.”

   “Er – I meant that – ironic – ”, the subject of the conversation was back, swiftly swinging himself into his chair.

   “You got him, I take it?”, Dumbledore asked, but Snape just nodded flatly, his greasy hair hanging into his face and he reached for a glass of water.

   “Ah, the ghost buster!”, Slughorn boasted, back at amusement. “Stunning. I never thought, anyone would be able to tame him ever since I left this school. And then I take on my old post again and find orders restored.”, Snape drained his glass, visibly careful that his face was not spotted by him. “May I ask for a name, dear colleague?”, Slughorn offered his hand like before, forcing Burbage to squeeze to the backrest of her chair.

   “I hardly reckon that would be necessary.”, Snape turned and presented him his most unimpressed frown ever.

   “Merlin’s beard!”, aspirated Slughorn, his eyes popping out, the cheer frozen instantly and the arm crashing on Burbage’s empty plate accompanied by loud clattering and her disgust, as well as many more heads turning towards them. “Severus! I should have known! Who else would – but of course! Though you, here? Teaching? That is truly a positive surprise!”

   “Apparently you have been sleeping a lot during the past sixteen years.”

   “He doesn’t seem to like him much, does he?”, Ginny noted.

   “It’s Snape, Gin. What d’you expect?”, murmured Ron.

   “And for how long have you been teaching here, and what?”, Slughorn continued.

   “Fifteen years, Potions.”

   “Blimey. Yes – but – but naturally you – would – ”, Dumbledore chimed his glass, telling from his look, probably for the mere relief of interrupting Slughorn and the hall fell silent as the gilded doors opened another time to let in the first-years, led by McGonagall. “Ah! How I missed that.”, Slughorn added whispering, straightened and rubbed his hands, gaining himself a most despising glance from both Snape and Burbage, the latter then pleading to her right, which resulted in a quick flick of a black wand; Hermione guessed he had sterilised her plate.

 

 

~~#~~

 

 

   Snoring filled her ears. Lavender did her well-known solo. But by the breathing of the others she could tell that she was the only one awake, and that even though she could usually sleep well to Ron’s roaring quaking The Burrow. The thought hammered in her mind. It had been the first time she had seen him since last term. Obviously Peeves and Slughorn had distracted him so much that he hadn’t even needed to hide it. Though for what she knew about him and their friendship, it worried her that he hadn’t been crying all feast long or been looking totally depressed. But yes, she knew that much that she should understand he wouldn’t cry in public, no matter how terrible the loss was.

   Careful not to make any noise, she slid down into her slippers, grabbed her cloak and wand, pinned her Prefect’s badge to her pyjama top and snuck out of the dark dormitory, into the drab common room, past an annoyed Fat Lady and down via some secret passages until she reached a door she hadn’t seen in months either, completely uncaught by the Aurors that were positioned in the Entrance Hall. What an immense lack in those now strengthened security measures, she thought. But how to complain when it was to her profit? She shortly brushed her fingers through her hair to look at least a little bit reasonable and did her four-time-knocking, waiting as usual.

   The door opened just enough he could stand in the frame but blocking the view inside. Above his black trousers he wore a clean white shirt with long sleeves. Those were rolled up to his elbows and he had bound his hair back into a tight ponytail. Due to their greasiness, the shorter strands at his forehead didn’t fall out. Hermione jumped; he merely squinted at the sound of breaking glass and some sort of liquid splattering the floor.

 

   “Gonadh.”, he muttered and stared out over her head, at the wall.

   “What – ”, Hermione tried to peek past him, but failed.

   “Tha’ll be tha Runespoor Eggs.”, Snape sighed.

   “Er – ”

   “An’ I dimbo ’ad ’em sorted be size – ”, he grunted, crossed his arms and legs and leant himself to the frame.

   “What are you doing in there, Sir?”, she murmured, still trying to get a glimpse.

   “Revision.”

   “Re-revision?”, the girl frowned.

   “I already had my things moved up to the other office over summer when – Professor Slughorn – found it funny to tell me in the breath he wished me a good night that he was so glad Albus had granted him `Galatea Merrythought’s former office´. Yet I am surprised that Albus gave up his secret storage room. I never thought that man was so eager to please his ego. So, naturally, I am moving back in.”

   “Why?”

   “Why, Miss Granger?”, he moaned. “Because I wasted my entire stock of incense trying to get that trollop’s smell out of the other, that’s why!”

   “Ouch.”

   “Oh yes, ouch! But anyway, I like this place better. Much less distraction and unless the Squid manages to break these highly secured windows, I have my peace in here. The jars are growing feet on their own already anyway. I really don’t like the thought of receiving Nifflers through my windows. Now, why are you here, Miss Granger?”

   “I walked into this, didn’t I? Say I walked into this.”

   “You walked into this.”, he huffed. “Well? What did you walk into?”

   “An E! An E, Sir!”, Hermione threw a tantrum. “She sat in there when Professor McGonagall asked me for my career plans and I said I would go for an O in all my OWLs and NEWTs and then turn the Ministry upside down.”, she didn’t fail to notice that his face was frozen for a moment. “I mean, I told her I was joking, but – ”

   “Though watching the exams, a Headmaster, and especially, the teachers, have not the slightest influence on the results, Miss Granger.”, Snape had composed himself. “This responsibility lies solely with the Committee.”

   “Still.”, moaned Hermione.

   “Do you fear, I would not take you into my NEWT class? Well, then you might wish to wait for your timetable tomorrow morning, where you will clearly see that you will still be allowed to take Defence Against the Dark Arts. Other than with Potion Making, which can end fatally when under-qualified people deal with the subject, I see no sense in throwing out those who received only an E last year. We both know that it didn’t need much ungifted-ness to fail with the lack of a year practice. You do not want to know the results of those who weren’t in the DA. Only few got a better results than an A and those were rare as well. But it would be no good for those with such horrible marks to continue; they would be too ashamed of themselves. The fifth is the most important in development of advanced skills. Passing it without practical experience, literally dooms one to fail at magical ability in general.”

   “I can totally see that.”, Hermione considered.

   “So, if there isn’t anything else you need to complain about,”

   “Not complaining, actually.”, she curled her lips, unsure how to start. “I – um – please don’t be mad at me, Sir, but – um – I’m – I’m sorry.”

   “What for.”, he sighed.

   “Your friend.”

   “Friend?”

   “Professor Karkaroff. Remus told us what happened.”

 

   The silence that emerged between them made Hermione feel smaller than she ever had. His lips stood open and his eyes were piercing hers with a visibly uncomfortable, disbelieving stare.

 

   “What?”, Snape aspirated.

   “Um – ”, something dawned on Hermione and she felt an immediate downpour of misery hitting her. “He’s been found in a shack with the Dark Mark above. Didn’t – didn’t you know?”

   “When – ”

   “A month ago already.”, it shocked her to see the powerless panic fall off him with utter relief.

   “Oh that.”, he smirked. “I already thought the world was better informed. I got a letter from him yesterday.”

   “Er – what?”

   “Igor, Miss Granger, is a highly talented wizard, despite his occasional cowardice. He has died probably a few dozen deaths within a year. Unless you hear the message from me, you shouldn’t rely much on the source.”

   “So he’s alive?”

   “Yes, he is alive.”, Snape nodded with a scarce smile.

   “Okay.”, she replied similarly, having to chuckle a little. “Then – um, happy sorting, Professor. And goodnight.”

   “A pleasant night to you as well, Miss Granger. Don’t let yourself be taken down by marks. I survived my Ps on all Divination work as well before I dropped it so it wouldn’t mash up my OWLs.”

   “You. Had a P.”, Hermione giggled.

   “Oh yes. Multiple ones, as I said. Then I spent an entire first lesson after Christmas arguing with our Muggle Studies teacher about why I even wanted to take his class when I am so averse to them. Though it was only natural that he couldn’t understand my personal issues while I constantly talked myself around the matter.”

   “And he let you take the class?”

   “Of course! He found my arguments rather interesting after the detention Lily and I had landed ourselves in.”

   “De-detention?”

   “I for reluctance of stopping to yell at a teacher and Lily for punching me in the face.”

 

   There was that striking silence again, though naturally, slightly different. Bearing his bored expression was hard when the awareness sank in. Hermione struggled to fight a fit of laughter.

 

   “You have my full permission to laugh your lungs out, Miss Granger.”

   “I’m fine, Sir.”, she gasped for breath, still trying to suppress the giggle. “I won’t laugh.”, finally she could take a thorough breath.

   “Then not.”

   “Alright. Um – goodnight then,”, Hermione smiled and turned to go.

   “Good night, Miss Granger.”, before he could close the door, she raised her voice once more.

   “And congratulations – on – your promotion – ”

 

   A stiff nod into the corridor and he locked the door behind. Grinning broadly, she made her way back up into the Entrance Hall. Harry’s mother had punched him in front of a teacher he had yelled at. And he had had a P in Divination. That was truly interesting news. Not that she would use it against – just when she reached the marble staircase, a shriek escaped her, that also made the Aurors startle and draw their wands. She hadn’t expected to be meeting anyone but them, especially not –

 

   “Good gracious, young lady!”, Professor Slughorn panted and held a hand to his hovering chest. “You gave me a fright!”

   “Surprise, Professor. I was totally prepared.”, she mumbled, a little embarrassed.

   “Oh well, a good night, Miss.”

   “Yeah.”, they walked some steps past one another when he called her back.

   “But what are you doing out here? The Headmaster has clearly stated – ”

   “I’m a Prefect, Sir.”, she pointed on her badge.

   “Oh then, never mind me.”, when she saw him shuffling around the banister and into a certain direction, she bent down over it and stopped him before he could take the spiral stairs.

   “He’s busy!”

   “What did you say?”

   “Professor Snape. He’s busy.”

   “How come you think – oh of course. But I believe, he will not bother a – ”

   “Runespoor Eggs have swamped his entire floor. I think he will bother.”

   “Runespoor Eggs? On his floor, you say?”

   “His whole stock, yes.”

   “Oh goodness – yes, that sounds terrible. Well, then tomorrow, perhaps.”

 

 

~~#~~

 

 

   “Git.”

 

   Ron’s malevolent stare up at the staff table said it all, regardless of the words he gnarled. Meanwhile she was used to it. Five years had toughened her up. Nevertheless she could still not bear it, especially when her head was full of numbers, signs, runes and calculations. Couldn’t he just give her a nice lunch break?

 

   “Evil git.”

   “Drop it, Ron.”, she sighed. “No matter what you call him, he’s not going to change. Quite the opposite, let him hear that and you can be glad if you don’t get expelled, you know that. And I won’t reconsider either. It’s really been a record, Harry. Landing yourself in detention after half an hour in the first lesson of the year, congratulations.”

   “I told you!”, Harry moaned. “I couldn’t help it! It just slipped out! And anyway, it’s not like it bothers him at all. He’s just – I mean, look at him. He’s a solid – emotionless – rock – ”, he tried to fight back the memory of what he had seen in the Pensieve again and that very peculiar private conversation weeks later by stabbing hard into one of his baked mushrooms and therefore not noticing the looks Ginny and Neville exchanged.

   “Just because he doesn’t show it, it doesn’t mean he’s got no heart.”, Hermione wrinkled her nose.

   “Uuuuuh. Granger’s in love!”, the cackling had come from behind and she spun, staring up ferociously like all of her housemates who had spotted them. “Now who’s it, eh?”

   “You, Draco.”, nearly everyone in vicinity snorted into their lunch when they saw the looks on Malfoy’s and his minions’ faces.

   “What’s that, bitch?”, Pansy Parkinson had torn herself off him and crossed her arms, Hermione had turned and was on her feet, having stepped over the bench with a roast knife in hand.

   “You’d better pack your boobies securely.”, she countered unshakeable, doing her best to hold the knife to Pansy’s breasts; which were slightly bared by the fact that she had purposely left the upper buttons of her blouse and uniform vest open; in a way it wouldn’t be seen from the staff table. “I might just cut them off, send them to the kitchen and have them for dinner.”

   “You – ”

   “Oh, no, no, no.”, Hermione hissed, now holding it under Malfoy’s chin; he had made a step forward, his hand moving towards his pocket. “You keep your filthy little hands at bay, or your girlfriend’s – ”, the knife pointed at the other girl again, “Ancient history.”, she didn’t even know what made her, but that feeling of power flooding her – though she couldn’t not admit it scared her a little.

   “Let’s get off.”, he mumbled to his fellows. “The Mudblood’s gone round the bend.”

   “What was that?”, gargled Ron when she was back at her seat with a triumphant smile, the knife in the joint again and the Slytherins almost at the gilded doors.

   “Sweet vengeance.”

   “Ya wouldn’ve stabbed her with tha’, would ya?”, Seamus asked, a little distracted by one of his front teeth, which he tapped with his tongue, half pondering.

   “I’m actually not so sure anymore,”, Hermione considered, looking up at the staff table for a mock check whether she had been seen, but mainly watched Burbage and Snape, who were everything but happy with their new neighbour.

   “But you got to try this steak, Severus!”, Slughorn brandished with a piece on his fork, past the woman again, loud enough for half the hall to hear. “It is magnificent!”

   “Do you possess a memory?”, was the cold reply.

   “But that would fit perfectly to your – ”, even though Slughorn was cut off, Hermione could clearly identify peas and rice on Snape’s fork before they got swallowed.

   “I asked you, whether you – ”

   “I do, but still you should try it. You’re too skinny anyway. Now come. That would do.”, Slughorn blithely took a slice and placed it on Snape’s plate. “And some sauce as well,”

 

   An entire scoop full went over the steak, dropping stains all over Burbage’s place. Eyes wide open with despair, she clapped her hands onto her face. Hermione again noticed the golden ring on her right hand that hadn’t been there before the holidays. But before she could brood over it, Snape had already reached for an empty bowl, filled it with new rice and peas, picked his fork and goblet and left through the automatically opening backdoor before Slughorn could do anything to stop him.

 

   “Where’sh ’e gone?”, Ron chomped his own bite of steak, his face directed towards the now empty chair just after the door had shut.

   “Who?”, Harry grunted, following his friend’s eye. “Oh. Hopefully gone dancing with some Dementor.”

   “Harry!”

 

   This time, they all were startled. Rather than usual, it hadn’t been Hermione to speak the warning. But both girls blushed.

 

   “Er – yes? Anything to say?”, Ron eyed his sister as though he was looking at a snail that had been turned inside out.

   “I just hate it when he does the Snuffles-thing.”, Ginny grunted.

   “Since when does it have such a stupid name when one wishes Snape what he deserves?”

   “Because that’s exactly what killed Snuffles in the end. I just don’t want Harry to die, okay? Ha- Harry? What’re you – ”, but he was already halfway down the table, straight heading for the gilded doors.

   “Great.”, Ron huffed. “If he jumps off the front bridge now, it’s your fault.”

   “I was just trying to say that it was his own fault that he died.”, Ginny huffed. “Lupin told me Snape had warned him not to go. He warned him explicitly of Bellatrix Lestrange. See what happened.”

   “Lupin – said that?”, Hermione frowned. “To you?”

   “Yes. If you excuse me, I’ll see if I can – ”, Ginny was standing already when she was interrupted.

   “If you mean to stop him jumping from the viaduct, you will only watch him fall.”, said an airy but determined voice behind Ron whose head spun so fast his neck cracked. “Let me do that.”

   “And you think, you can stop him.”, Ginny chuckled angrily.

   “Oh yes. Because you’d be heading for the wrong place,”, Luna smiled and hopped off.

   “And what’s the right place in your opinion?”, Neville called after her.

   “I said, let me do that.”

   “She’s totally freaky,”, Ron shook his head and devoted to his plate again, just to see it emptied. “What the – ”, he looked around but there was only the afters. “Damn it.”

   “She’s not.”, sighed Ginny and sat back down. “Not completely. Probably she really knows where he went. And since when do you complain about the change from salty fat to sugary fat.”

 

 

~~#~~

 

 

   “It’s incredible, you know?”

   “What is so incredible, Ron.”, Hermione puffed.

 

   Once again they were alone in the common room, doing their homework while Harry was off to see Dumbledore. At least Hermione did. Ginny was done with hers and watched them, close to dropping off to sleep about every five minutes. Ron had his usual difficulties, not only because he was generally easily distracted.

 

   “That Harry can read that stuff!”

   “Oh not again.”, Ginny crashed her head onto the table, a little too forceful. “Ow.”

   “I mean,”, Ron eyed her concerned.

   “I’m fine.”, she threw in and rubbed her forehead, definitely awake now.

   “How can he read that scribbling?”

   “You cannot even read your own handwriting, Ronald.”, said Hermione, not taking her eyes off her essay and continued writing while she spoke. “It’s no wonder you failed. And besides, the better for you. This way you actually learn to brew these potions, rather than – ”

   “Learn? How often do we have to tell you? The book’s total crap, but the Prince got it all right!”

   “`The Prince´. Oh listen to yourself. It’s not like Charles or Andrew or Edward or William – or – or Harry – ever were good Potioneers – I – I mean – they’re – ”

   “And how’re you doing that?”, Ron continued over her fading muttering that hadn’t worked out the way she had meant it to.

   “What do you mean?”

   “Writing and talking about two completely different things at once!”

   “Well, as a matter of fact, I can, you see.”

   “And how I see it! That’s absolutely brilliant!”, Hermione didn’t yet look up, but blushed.

   “It’s nothing really special, Ron. It’s some natural law that people like her can do that.”

   “Yeah. Wicked. Hang on – remember? Two years ago in Potions? Snape’s been correcting an essay while telling Neville off about a tiny mistake he’d just made, without even looking at him!”, she blushed even more, actually remembering it.

   “Yes. And maybe you remember that the potion you committed in that lesson cost us ten points.”

   “Damn! Yeah! But that’s not the – er – point – here. I mean, you’re – Snape-ing!”

   “I’m – what?”, the second word came from Ginny as well.

   “Snape-ing! Crazy, isn’t it?”, he looked from one to the other. “And a totally awful thing to do.”, he considered dreamily.

   “’Cause the word’s awful,”, meant Ginny.

   “’Cause he’s awful.”

   “I’m not – Snape-ing, Ron.”, Hermione sighed and her eyes and quill were back on her essay. “If any, I’m Hermione-ing.”

   “Hey! That sounds better.”, she just huffed, the pink on her cheeks becoming bright red and burning with heat. “But to think, that it would mean that – Snape’s – Hermione-ing – Ow!”, she had grabbed a pile of parchment and slapped it onto his head. “Now you’re really Snape-ing.”, the menacing glare she gave him, didn’t make it better. “See? Just what I say!”, he sang.

   “I’m going to – “, Ginny yawned and raised, “Bed, if you don’t mind.”

   “Goodnight.”

   “G’night,”, and picked up the very same pile as well, hitting him with an impious smirk. “Ow! Why did you do that?”, Ron rubbed his head which tousled his hair.

   “Because you’re my brother and because I can.”

   “Bloody panda – ”, he turned to stare after her.

   “’Night.”, Ginny disappeared on the stairs. “Panda.”, they could hear her chuckle before the door to her dormitory opened and closed.

   “You girls are wicked.”

   “Well, thanks, Ron!”, Hermione moaned. “Would you now continue your homework and stop grating on my nerves?”

   “Okay, okay, I’m doing. Before you go all mad on me with a kitchen knife, blimey.”, she kicked his foot. “Hey!”, he groaned, but continued muttering to his own papers. “Completely loopy.”

 

 

 

~~#~~