Undertaking

   A dead cold filled the glasshouse the sixth-years stood in, waiting, tired, freezing. Almost each of them tried a different way to keep themselves alive. Their winter cloaks for Herbology were warm, but not warm enough. After his entrance in their Potions lesson on Friday, some of them had gained a little more respect for Severus Snape. Though it seemed to them that they would wait in vain to see what he would be like when temporarily replacing Madam Sprout. For now, they only stood around the empty group of tables in the middle, talking to each other and rubbing different parts of their bodies or hopping from one foot to the other while yawning. Those who could, squeezed themselves around Hermione, who had her wand held up to the point of losing the blood in her fingers, so she could fill the place with a constant stream of warm air.

   Almost instantly, silence fell over them and Hermione’s arm dropped when the glass door was pushed open at quarter past eight in the morning of that Monday and a mass of black came in, closing the door behind. On his right arm, a single green folder. To; mostly; Parvati Pail’s surprise, the scarf he wore was not purple but black as well. Slowly people noticed an additional touch of black around his eyes. It had been a long time since he had stopped using eyeliner. Actually, he hadn’t done it since his early teaching days. But the last week had been a week of change and he had personally felt the need to emphasise it, mainly for himself. Things were going onwards and he had considered it right to put on some war paint. However, it put the boot into his current state.

   Apart from the make-up, he had dark circles around his eyes and was paler than ever. He hadn’t shaved since Friday morning and his hair was as greasy as it had usually been during the first years he had been their teacher. Hermione wasn’t the only one to be shocked about seeing him like this. If it hadn’t been for his clean clothes, he could have been taken for an escapee from a very bad homeless shelter.

   In defiance of the fact that he looked like he hadn’t slept in a century, his expression was as cold and unwavering as the air Hermione hadn’t been able to change, although it wouldn’t reach the visible depths of his eyes on that day.

 

   “Mr Macmillan,”, he addressed the Hufflepuff, holding the folder towards him, “Would you hand out those corrected essays?”

   “Yes, Professor.”, the boy did as ordered and everyone took a look at their sheets, some with a lot of actual surprise.

   “You have two minutes to read through. Then I want them packed and your full attention.”

 

   The full attention after his words were on Susan Bones and Parvati Patil though, who let out a squeal. A mouse had run through between their feet, directly towards where Severus stood. He quickly got out his wand but Hermione was faster. A thin jet of red light hit the rodent and it fell to its tiny feet. Raising an eyebrow, he watched it taking off into the air and landing on the table, directed by Hermione’s wand. She tapped the mouse three times and it turned into a goblet. Everyone had completely forgotten their essays by then.

   Hermione went into the neighbouring glasshouse, returning with a handful of well selected different leaves. She put them onto a thin paper that she had torn from a notebook she carried in her bag. Carefully she placed the paper with the leaves on the goblet, pressed it a bit inside and pointed her wand at the centre of the hollow. A little flash and the leaves were nothing but crumbs. Then a stream of steaming water came from the tip of her wand, soaking the crumbs and the paper.

   Still wordless, she took off the wet sheet, threw it into the green waste bin, picked up the goblet and carried it around some of her classmates. With a slight sigh, he slouched his shoulders and tried to avoid any eyes when he received the goblet she now offered him. A short glimpse inside and he took a small sip of the soothing tea, everyone staring at the two. Yet a bit hesitantly, Hermione started speaking at last.

 

   “If you would like to, Sir,”, she said as calm as she could, “You may sit down on that bench there. Madam Sprout has told us all we need to know and I believe everyone of us is mature enough to follow her orders without further ado.”

   “Hermione – ”, she heard Padma Patil whisper.

   “Why don’t all of you show some humanity and let our teacher rest? You can see that he obviously hasn’t slept a minute over the weekend.”, she faced the small class, very much like he would do under normal circumstances. “What are you waiting for? You have been told thoroughly how to cut those madnesses behind you. Take them to the table and start already. The sooner we all can get out of that frozen hell, the better.”, no reaction. “MOVE!”

 

   Shocked, her colleagues hastily packed away their essays and did as she said, none of them daring to look at her. None except Harry, who though only gave her a little surprised glance before starting to cut the too long tentacles off his plant.

 

   “’Ow interestin’.”, Severus mumbled as he sat down on the bench behind him, taking another sip.

 

   Finally time for a worried look, Hermione’s eyes stared into the hollow dark ones that moved up to hers. Trying to see her properly, he blinked twice, his lips forming a soundless sad `Thank you´ after some seconds. She only nodded barely visible and took a plant and scissors as well. Ernie trotted over to their teacher, still holding the now empty folder. His hands shaking a bit, he handed it over and went for a plant himself.

   Never in history of their Herbology lessons, any of them had been so silent. Every once in a while, Severus let his tired eyes wander up at the few students he could actually see from his position. Some minutes had passed until he had drank all of the tea and took another gaze around. He put down the goblet to his right and attempted to stand up, but eventually was forced to the bench again. A little surprised about her reaction, not only he stared at Hermione, who had given her wand a flick that had made him sit back down. A withering stare from him, but Hermione only made him understand with a move of her eyebrows that he was to lie down, rather than walking around.

   With a snort, he pulled his own wand from his left sleeve, pointed it at the goblet and it immediately became a black cushion. He dropped the empty green folder on the floor, hurled his legs onto the bench, placed his head on the cushion and pulled bits of his cloaks over his face. Sighing, Hermione turned back to her classmates, giving them a quiet hiss.

 

   “Stop staring and go on!”

 

   After some more minutes of silent working, the unavoidable happened and she just wished for any rumour she had meant to spread about the girl’s preferences to be of avail immediately: Parvati went over to Hermione, whispering to her.

 

   “What do you think happened?”

   “I don’t know.”, Hermione replied honestly, her voice as low as the other’s.

   “I can’t remember having seen him like this ever before.”

   “Nor do I.”

   “Curious, not? He storms into our Potions class, breaks a world record by brewing something odd in no time, cancels all his stuff and rushes off like he was on a top secret mission. And three days later he turns up in Sprout’s lesson he’s supposed to hold, completely exhausted. That’s strange, isn’t it?”

   “Tz. You sound like Harry.”

   “Hey!”, that one hissed, having heard it.

   “I know what you mean, but I don’t think it’s our business. Whatever he had to do was obviously an emergency case, just as he’d said. I bet, the potion was for Sprout herself. Why else would he be so rushed if it wasn’t for the life of his colleague? The Healers at St Mungo’s must have found out what’s wrong with her and asked him for help.”

   “You think? But that – ”, Parvati gave the black heap a glance, “That would mean that she was in real danger!”

   “As I said, I don’t know. If we ought to find out, I think we will be told anyway. If not, we should keep our noses out of his stuff. After all, he must have a life outside school as well, don’t you think?”

   “Oh – you mean – there was an emergency case in – his family?”

   “Perhaps,”

   “Gosh. I just realise I never thought he might actually have family.”

   “Is it so odd to consider?”

   “Somehow, yes. You think he has children? I mean, he’s not married, is he? I haven’t seen a ring on him, other than those under his eyes – ”

   “Who knows.”, Hermione sighed. “Unless he tells us personally, I don’t think we should ask him anything about his private life.”, Parvati gave her a strange look. “Yes, that includes wondering about his winter clothes or jewellery he possibly possesses. Honestly, Parvati. You know he can become very rough. Stalking him isn’t such a good idea in my opinion.”

   “Says someone who found out about his birthday. How old has he turned anyway?”

   “I don’t know.”, Hermione lied. “And I accidentally overheard Dumbledore talking about it. Would you mind going back to work now?”, huffing, Parvati slouched over to her own pot.

 

   The rest of the double period passed quietly. Everyone was busy cutting the plants, receiving the one or other warning look or hiss from Hermione if their conversations got too loud. The clocks hanging above the two doors of the glasshouse showed them that their lesson was to be over in fifteen minutes. One after another, the students carried the last plants to their compulsory places and started cleaning the scratched old wood. Five minutes later, the tables in the middle looked almost like they had found them.

 

   “Get back to the castle, everyone.”, Hermione whispered. “I’ll wake him.”

   “Wake him?”, Neville asked. “You really think you can handle that grump, do you?”

   “Yes.”, she hissed. “Haven’t you noticed how I just did? Now get out. All of you. I’ll be right there.”

 

   Hermione waited for her classmates to be gone and turned to him. She wanted to grant him the sleep but she couldn’t leave him there either. Fighting with herself, she knelt down in front of his head. What other choice did she have? Carefully she pulled down the cloaks. He didn’t notice it. Stroking his cheek, she placed a soft kiss on his lips. That woke him up. Blinking and breathing more conscious, he tried to figure out what was going on.

 

   “Wake up.”, she whispered. “Lesson’s over. I sent them up.”

 

   Groaning, he tried to sit up, supported by her, looking even more miserable than before. His hair was all messed and his eyes refused to open properly. She started kissing him tenderly again. Unable to hold himself, he joined in for about a minute, waking a little more with every move.

 

   “What happened?”

   “Hmm?”, he grumbled.

   “What was that potion and what did you need it for? Where have you been?”

   “Emergency. I canno’ tell. Ye’ll find ou’ soon enough.”, taking this for the proof he was awake, she decided to take on her own mission.

   “What’s your next lesson?”

   “Defence, fifth-years.”

   “Can you fly?”

   “I – think so – ”

   “Sure?”, she helped him onto his feet.

   “Yes. Better than walkin’, apparen’ly.”, he chuckled limply when his knees gave in a little and he stumbled to the side, having to be caught by her. “Thanks.”

   “No problem. Then let’s get back up.”

 

   Nodding exhausted he yawned, summoned the empty green folder and then pointed his wand at the cushion. A flash of green light and the mouse laid dead on the bench; a flick and it burnt to cinders without leaving a singe on the wood. Hermione curled her lips.

 

   “Dun’ – ”, he started, “Can ye imagine wha’ a mouse in a green’ouse can cause?”

   “Okay, okay!”, she hissed. “It’s not like you could undo that anyway.”

   “Exac’ly.”

 

 

~~#~~

 

 

   They could hear students talking in the opened classroom already. Walking ahead, Severus stormed in, approaching his desk. Though the students had jumped to their feet at his sight, the view of Hermione rushing after him confused them a little. Stopping in front of the desk, he turned about and startled, much like the students at the discovery of his face.

 

   “Why are you still following me, Miss Granger!”, he hissed.

   “Because I cannot let you do that, Sir. Professor Dumbledore needs to know, no matter what, and it would be better for your reputation if you do what I tell you now. Because, either you do what I say or I walk straight to him.”

   “Is this a threat?”

   “No. Just a warning, Sir, for your own health.”, it was now, that even the last student had noticed his terrible looks and shocked as well as confused whispers travelled around. “Get a paper and write down what I tell you.”

   “You are not giving me orders, Granger.”, everyone held their breath when she pointed her wand straight at his face, eyes cold and her hand firm.

   “Now.”, Hermione snarled when he failed to make her hand lower magically. “You see, Professor? You’re not even capable of influencing me a bit. Get out a paper and write. It is essential that it is your handwriting. I believe, the students entering this class next are the seventh-years and I’m afraid they won’t listen to me only because I know how to yell at them.”

 

   Severus picked a piece of parchment from a drawer and took out a pair of rounded rectangular reading specs from the left pocket of his robe. Hermione wasn’t the only one to frown when he put them on. He however didn’t really bother and grabbed a quill, waiting for Hermione to compose herself and clear her throat.

 

   “I, Professor Severus Snape,”, he took a deep annoyed breath, but inked the quill and started writing. “Herewith devolve Miss Hermione Granger all my duties as a teacher for the present day, Monday January thirteenth, nineteen ninety-seven and permit her to treat my students over that time in manner of my teaching methods, including the right to award and withdraw points from their House, give homework and inflict detention throughout the course of all my lessons scheduled on named day. Now sign that, Sir.”, he hesitated, tired eyes of disbelief on her, though did as told.

   “Does that mean, you will be our teacher today, Hermione?”, Luna asked; Hermione answered without turning away from Severus.

   “Madam, for you now.”

   “You can’t be serious!”, Ginny chuckled.

   “That’s right. He’s dead.”

   “Hermione!”

   “Well, as a matter of fact, I can, Miss Weasley.”, even Severus was struck by her consistency, and a little bit, by her sudden cold dark humour. “Your complete timetable, Professor Snape?”, he turned the parchment with a snort and wrote down all classes for the day, including the subjects they currently dealt and the plans for the day.

   “Is this the new one?”

   “It doesn’t happen too often that all timetables get completely rearranged in the middle of the year, but does that make you believe, I cannot learn mine within a day, Miss Granger?”

   “Alright.”, Hermione huffed.

   “And you will need to take the register.”, he took a folder out of another drawer. “The lists are in here. If you already insist so hard on undertaking my lessons, do it properly.”, he took off his glasses, slipped them into his pocket the moment he stuck the quill back into the inkpot, turned for the stairs up to the office door and stopped in front, his hand on the knob, throwing a last glance down on the fifth-years. “If there should be any problems, Miss Granger,”, he sighed deeply, “The third left to the hole is the key.”, finally dropping her tension, Hermione nodded understanding, all eyes watching him press down the handle a little slow. “Thank you.”, he mumbled, sadness flooding his face before he – failed at another attempt to open the door.

 

   Luna had gotten to her feet and climbed the stairs as well, coming to halt less than an arm’s lenth away in front of him. As good as he could due to his state, he frowned at something very small she held up to his nose. His dull blinking and Luna’s bright smile made the whole scene even odder than it already was. The thing she offered him was an insanely colourful, pentagonal presentation box, just big enough a Snitch would have fitted in. Its lid was bound close with a thin, shimmering purple ribbon, a tangle on top.

 

   “What is this?”, he asked quiet, carefully picking it with his left thumb and middle finger, eyeing it with interest.

   “Belated Happy Birthday, Sir.”, Luna smiled on.

   “Er – thank you – ”, Severus aspirated.

   “And sleep well!”, she turned and hopped downstairs.

   “I – hope – so – ”, he still marvelled at the present when he finally entered the office and locked the door behind.

   “So what’s that, Hermione? You just made Snape let you hold his classes!”, Ginny murmured after having shaken her head with rolling eyes when Luna was back at her seat, not losing her broad smile.

   “You are not to address me with my first name during today’s lesson.”, Hermione turned to her, the cold Severus-kind-of look back on her face.

   “Oh come on! What’s going on here!”

   “If you haven’t noticed, Professor Snape is not in the state of teaching properly today. Being a conscientious student and Prefect, I feel responsible for the quality of the education other students are to receive. Therefore, under the present circumstances, I see it as my obligation to provide such. Now, knowing each of you, I think there is no need to take the register. Get your wands out, class. According to this list, you will learn and practise the Reviving Spell, which is the counter to the Stunning Spell. The incantation is as follows: Enervate. Repeat that.”

   “Enervate.”, almost everyone said after a pause of struggle, in spite of their confusion and even visible fear, except for a certain group of students.

   “And now the Slytherins as well.”, the rest of the class snickered. “Silence. Now, why don’t I hear anything?”, angry mumbling, vaguely determinable as the incantation. “Well, imagine your own lives depending on people like yourselves. Do you think you would survive?”

   “Enervate.”, the Slytherins grumbled.

   “A little louder?”

   “Enervate!”, they shouted at her, followed by frustrated mumbles to one another.

   “Wonderful. Although you could do it with a little more feeling.”, she gave them a sneer and sent their benches, desks and dropped bags to the walls with a wave of her wand, resulting in horrified jumps and shrieks. “Now get together in pairs. One will stun the other and try to lift the effect. If successful, you will take turns.”, it took quite a while until the students had lined up, wands ready. “Begin.”

 

   Accompanied with screams of `Stupefy!´, flashes of red light whizzed through the classrooms and half of the students were knocked out. The casters of the spells then went over to their partner, pointing their wands at them again, speaking the incantation of the counter spell. Only few managed to work it at the first attempt. Hermione stood in front of the teacher’s desk, watching with caution. The fact that she had actually gotten Slytherins listen to her, made her feel like she owned all the power in the world. But in real, she was just glad she had paid attention to several possible ways of teaching over the course of the last five and a half years at least.

   Three turns ahead, Ginny and Luna seemed to even have fun in stunning one another. The sound of approaching shoes echoed from the still open door to the corridor. Wearing a midnight blue robe and high hat, Professor McGonagall entered the room. Hermione had to be honest she should have expected her to turn up.

 

   “Attention, please!”, McGonagall sang, making the students stop, half of them however still lying unconscious on the floor. “Thank you.”, she crossed the room and froze. “Miss Granger? I hoped, Professor Snape might be able to explain why you are not in my class and now I find you here? In his class? Where is he?”

   “Absent.”

   “How very funny.”, she brandished her off. “Now? Why is this class practising without him? And why are you standing there like a statue?”

   “Because I am their teacher today.”

   “I beg your pardon, Miss Granger?”, she blinked heavily.

   “It is all on here.”, Hermione picked up the parchment and held it towards her.

   “What is this?”, McGonagall closed up, took it and read it through, her eyebrows disappearing under her hat. “What is this?”

   “As I said, it is all on the parchment.”

   “But why would he let you undertake all his classes and, I assume, also the first-years’ Herbology in the afternoon?”

   “Because he is incapable of teaching today.”

   “Why? What is he – ”

   “This is all information I can provide you, Professor.”, Hermione didn’t lose a bit of her sobriety.

   “This is serious, then?”, McGonagall shook the parchment, yet Hermione resisted another joke about Harry’s murdered godfather.

   “Certainly.”

   “And your lessons, Miss Granger?”

   “I believe, this piece of parchment is enough excuse.”

   “Very well, Miss Granger.”, she gave back the sheet with a sigh. “I cannot comprehend his intentions, but knowing him makes me understand that his reasons must be severe. Otherwise he would not give such a written order. I will notify your other teachers that you are officially exempted for today.”

   “Thank you, Professor.”, Hermione nodded once and McGonagall turned to go.

   “And Miss Granger,“, she paused, curling her lips with concern, “Good luck.”

   “Thank you.”

   “You may continue.”, McGonagall said to the class before she left.

 

 

~~#~~

 

 

   Hermione loved pulling her newly imposed rank – for now. The seventh-years had been a little more challenge at first, but after she had silenced them by nonverbally letting a jet of fire rush through the room like a snake, not burning a single hair, they had been no big deal. Now, it was time for lunch. Having watched him doing this some times, she wrote down what she wanted and placed some Sickles on the paper, knocking three quick times on the tabletop. The order and money gone, only a minute later the meal appeared. With a big sigh about the unfair aspects of wizard society, she sat down and started eating, wondering whether he had eaten a single time over the weekend and what he had actually done.

   An emergency, he had said. Knowing him, she was certain this emergency had something to do with Voldemort. But what could it be, if not even arranging things around that mass breakout could have beaten him down so hard? What could have consumed so much time, he hadn’t even managed to take care of his own welfare? He had never been devoted to a task in such a thorough way and she had to confess, it scared her. Whatever it was, the outcome might have even been fatal if he hadn’t intervened, she was sure, and he had clearly been affected by it personally, not only physically.

   Something was going on out there and she started to fear the moment to come when she had to cope with Dumbledore being dead. She had believed it to be in distant future, but now it seemed to be hanging above her like a spiked veil, stiffening with every inch it came closer, ready to impale the invisible shield that appeared to be guarding everyone. As though the safe bubble would burst soon, leading to the destruction of everything she held dear.

   Finished with a horrible feeling, the table cleared automatically. For momentary safety, she closed the classroom door from the distance, picked up the notorious parchment and went upstairs to the office, examining it.

   The room was totally empty. Empty shelves, the desk dusty, the chair behind as well. He had banned Umbridge’s former presence quite efficiently, but had neglected the room ever since. Hermione closed the door and looked at the keyhole. The third left to the hole is the key. She counted three bricks left from the keyhole and pressed the stone into the wall. One of the shelves swung open. The revealed room was rather dark. A black curtain had been drawn shut. In the corner at the foot of the bed was another door, obviously leading to the bathroom. Neatly folded black clothes on a bedside chair, a pair of black shoes on the floor in front of it. On top of the pile, the opened colourful box and she wondered what had been inside.

   Covered by a white blanket, he slept peacefully. The collar of his long-sleeved shirt was showing. Messed black hair was spread over the white pillow. A quick hand on her mouth stopped a surprised, yet woeful giggle. His legs were slightly uncovered. She knelt down at those beautiful toes and examined his left ankle that carried something: It was as broad as Hermione’s little finger and knotted from cobalt blue, light pink, antique pink, salmon and white yarn, in a regular but artistic pattern. She had made the – friendship anklet long enough it hung lightly loose around his ankle. Oh Luna, she thought with a flattered smile and carefully pulled the blanket over his legs.

   Neither that, the dim light coming from the office, nor the quiet noises caused by Hermione placing another chair next to him was enough to wake him up. For some minutes she just sat there and watched him sleeping, the parchment and her wand securely on the bedside table. The longer she studied him, the farther away seemed that dangerous ceiling that came down on her, like he was an angel, whose mere presence could repel all evil. She knew it was just an illusion, but she wished to be bathing in it forever.

 

   “What made you so tired?”, she softly whispered, tenderly wiping a strand of greasy hair out of his face.

 

   Smiling wearily, she stroked over his three-day beard, causing his lips to move unconsciously. She didn’t want to wake him from his necessary sleep, but neither could resist touching him. Blurred black on his lids. Hermione wondered why he wore eyeliner. She had never seen a man doing it. Well, she had, but they were members of rock bands. Slowly his eyes opened, having felt the touch. A dazed smile emerging on his lips, he found her face, the eyes falling shut again.

 

   “Wha’ time’s it?”, he mumbled.

   “Lunchtime.”, she answered in a whisper, continuing fondling his left cheek.

   “’Ave ye ’ad lunch?”

   “Yes. I ordered something from the kitchen. Are you hungry?”

   “I’m starvin’ so much, I fear I canno’ ea’.”, making her let go by it, he turned onto his back and stretched, a hand on his mouth to cover his yawning.

   “Then I think, some soup couldn’t hurt, right?”, he sniffed, blinking like in the glasshouse.

   “Yes. A warm broth would be wonderful.”

   “Anything added?”

   “I – jus’ – jus’ bread cubes, please.”, he sighed to the ceiling. “Oh – an’ ye should mention tha’ it’s fer me.”

   “Okay.”

 

   Hermione placed a soft kiss on his right cheek, then let him alone and went back downstairs to the desk. When having sent the order, she groaned. How could she be so stupid? The other desk would have worked as well. She heard water run, then another sigh, a little muffled – assumingly by a towel. Moments later, he stood in the doorway, only having added his trousers to his appearance. The loose white shirt fell past his hips. Barefoot, he walked down to her, a little weak-kneed. A faint noise and a steaming bowl of broth with bread cubes as well as a silver spoon appeared on the desk. Hermione held out her hand, but instead of taking it, he stepped a little closer, brushed through her hair and gave her a slow kiss. He then sat down and started eating.

   When his eyes followed Hermione walking to the other side of the desk, he noticed a very small, fluffy purple something up on the round iron chandelier. But Hermione would draw his attention in the next second. Having sat down on the desk, she held his left hand with a smile. A thankful smile in return, he closed his fingers around hers and ate, the warm soup comforting his stomach.

 

   “Since when do you need glasses for reading and writing?”

   “Since I was twelve.”

   “What?”, Hermione chuckled. “But you – ”

   “I can do without, but it is by far better with them.”, he smirked limply.

   “Will you tell me now?”, she reached out and playfully stroked his left cheek.

   “No.”

   “Fine.”, Hermione sighed and dropped her hand.

   “I said you will find out soon enough.”

   “And I said it’s fine. It would screw the whole fun wouldn’t it?”

   “Definitely.”

   “What has he ordered you? You know who I mean.”

   “Nicely phrased, but – ”

   “Don’t deny. Dumbledore wouldn’t keep you busy all weekend without sleeping or eating. What has he ordered you?”

   “It’s complicated.”

   “Well, so is teaching if you aren’t a teacher.”

   “It is complicated when being a teacher as well.”, Hermione took a deep breath. “Look – there are things I mustn’t tell. Not even you, as hard as it might be for me.”, he took another spoonful.

   “But I’m worried! When did you return anyway? Eight o’clock?”

   “Approximately nine minutes later.”

   “He doesn’t care at all, does he?”

   “I’m afraid, he isn’t able to actually care for anything but his own interests.”, the last bit of soup went down and the bowl plus spoon vanished. “Hermione. You must understand – ”, he bent forward a little.

   “I try to! Still – ”

   “He is not easy to handle. One toe out of line – ”

   “I know, I know.”, Hermione moaned at him. “And everything will be in vain. Just be careful, okay?”

   “What do you think, I have tried for the past years?”, she leant closer as well.

   “I know, Severus.”, she said and kissed him, slow and softly, all four eyes closed.

 

   The classroom door swung open so fast they couldn’t part in time. Her jaw dropped slightly, a girl came to halt in the middle of the room, staring at them in disbelief. Almost simultaneously, three hearts skipped a beat.

 

   “T-tell me – “, she aspirated, “That – no.”, she slightly shook her head.

   “Ginny – ”, Hermione whispered.

   “Don’t – ”, the other girl only shook her head once more. “Don’t even try to bluff it out.”

   “Ginny please – ”, the ginger shortly curled her lips.

   “Oh shut it. I don’t want to hear. From neither of you. It’s none of my business what you’re doing.”

   “Miss Weasley – ”

   “I – I actually don’t care – ”, Ginny sang hastily. “Really – ”

   “Ginny, that’s – ”

   “I said, shut it!”, Hermione swallowed. “Have – have you seen Arnold?”

   “Arnold?”, murmured Hermione. “Your Pygmy Puff?”

   “Yes. I can’t find him. He must have jumped out of my bag somewhere.”

   “Is it purple?”, Severus asked, a familiar sadness back in his face, looking at Ginny only.

   “Yes.”, both girls said.

   “Then you should maybe take a look at the chandelier.”

   “What the f– ”

 

   Ginny raised her head and her shoulders sank with a relieved sigh. She walked further into the room, held her hands up and called for her pet. The furry ball let itself fall down and landed gently in her palms. Snorting, she placed it on her left shoulder, giving it a glare.

 

   “Freaky little thing. At least he obeys my call.”, Ginny smirked and went back to the door. “Next time you’d better lock.”

 

 

~~#~~

 

 

   Both glad that the day was over, they sat opposite to each other at the very same desk they had been caught at. Hermione had forced him back to bed and continued holding his lessons. After more Defence lessons and having spent another two hours in a cold glasshouse, the warm dinner with him was more than she could have wished for. This time they had locked the classroom door however. He had lit the floating candles, filling the room with a soft shine. The world outside the windows was as dark as the curtains hanging into them.

 

   “Can you tell me again, how many students received detention?”

   “Four.”, Hermione laughed after ten minutes of calm silence. “But I haven’t set any specific time. You can do that yourself. It’s all on the list, including the change in points. I didn’t know whether your signature would actually make me able to influence the score.”

   “I don’t think it did either; after all a Prefect’s influence ends at every classroom door, but thank you. I will check the glasses tomorrow.”

 

   Severus smiled at his – she was sure he had hosed her – `rumbledethumps´, he had said extremely fast, and insisted on that being the name. So at the moment, he smiled at his whatever-meal-mush he dug into with a silver fork. There was a knock on the door.

 

   “Who is there?”, he called out.

   “It is me, Severus. May I come in?”, Minerva McGonagall’s voice answered, muffled by the thick wood.

   “Yes.”, there was a clicking sound when he shortly pointed his wand at the door and the elderly woman stepped in, took a brief look around and closed the old wood behind.

   “Oh there you are, finally.”, she approached the desk. “You are still here, Miss Granger?”

   “It seems so, doesn’t it, Professor?”, Hermione smirked.

   “Very w- gu sealladh orm!”, McGonagall clapped a hand on her chest. “What happened to you, Severus?”

   “You should have seen him in the morning, Madam. He looked like he had spent the weekend in Azkaban.”

   “Oh dear – you haven’t though, have you?”

   “It is hard to believe, but I haven’t, Minerva. It has just been an extremely exhausting weekend. Thanks to Miss Granger, I could catch up on some sleep.”

   “And what would devastate you so much?”, she gave Hermione a short glance, wondering whether he would tell her when the girl was present.

   “A rather odd and challenging mission.”

   “Albus will regret ordering you about, one day, I promise.”, she sighed.

   “He is not to blame, Minerva. It had only turned out to be a bit more complicated than I had expected. But in the end, everything went – as it had to.”

   “At least that is – is it good news? Only one question, then I won’t disturb your meal any longer.”

   “That is all right.”, Severus dismissed her.

   “No, no. I will leave you alone then. Miss Granger, there are rumours going around about you having given four students detention?”

   “Apparently I have, Professor.”

   “The reasons?”

   “The reasons shall be my problem, not?”, Severus noted.

   “Oh drop it. I am her Head of House. I want to know some details about the actions I’d like to reward her for. After all, the rumours range from `never had a better teacher´ to `as horrible as him´.”, Hermione blushed over her noodles. “There are students comparing her teaching to your and my strictness!”

   “Well, it indeed appears I have some bad influence on her. When she intends to do something, it is settled. Her consequence is quite overwhelming.”

   “Would you say you could imagine her taking on a career as teacher?”, Severus and Hermione looked at each other, both surprised.

   “I – I think, she might actually have qualities as such, yes. But as said, I have not been present. You would need to rely on those rumours, Minerva.”

   “Very well. Sixty points will be a good reward for your accomplishment, Miss Granger.”

   “I – thank you, Professor!”, Hermione aspirated. “I – ”, she looked between the teachers; Severus gave her a barely visible shrug and frown.

   “Oh I think, you deserve it. Though by tomorrow, both of you should be back in your respective positions. I wish you a good night now, before I find myself scoffing that utterly delicious looking rumbledethumps.”, she left without any further words.

   “Congratulations, Hermione.”, Severus chuckled after having locked the door from distance once more.

   “Drop it.”, she smirked. “That was a nice experience, but she’s right. I’ll never do that again.”

   “I agree. You should try to stand back a little. Dressing up like a scrubber, spreading the knowledge of my date of birth, serving me tea in front of your classmates and then making me allow you to undertake all my lessons for a day – those are very many peculiar acts for the period of four days.”, he seriously encapsulated it. “We have three people knowing of our relationship; luckily keeping silent about their knowledge for now; one defending a light version of it, a colleague knowing that I am at least not single anymore and a stalker, curious for my clothes. Oh yes – and half the school wondering whether you’ve gone all glaikit.”

   “And – Won-Won – doesn’t seem to notice anything at all.”, Hermione sighed, scraping her plate and took a paper, his quill ready. “Fancy something sweet?”

   “Yes.”, he slowly pulled the quill from her hand. “You.”

   “Wally.”, she mumbled. “I meant pudding.”

   “I know what you meant.”, he smiled. “And no, unless you do.”

   “Neither. I’m brimmed.”

   “Well, then all I need is a wash, a shave and you in my arms.”, he gave her a short, saucy kiss. “Downstairs.”, he added moaning. “This bed is horror.”

 

 

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