Along with the snow melting, he had finally desisted from becoming upset on the mention of Remus’ name – and Madam Sprout had returned to Hogwarts, fully recovered. Though there was no knowledge of Katie Bell’s convalescence yet. A soaking wet second week of February was almost over, covering the school grounds in mud. Nearly a month, Hermione thought, gazing up to him as he stood in row with the other Heads of House. Tomorrow it would be a month, she thought. A month and they had just needed three – she blushed, finding him raising an eyebrow, looking at her for the first time since the last D.A.D.A. lesson. Had he read her thoughts? He hastily looked away as if nothing had been. Hermione narrowed her eyes. There was something about three Ds.
The reason for the sixth-years to stand in the Great Hall, was their first Apparition lesson, for which Dumbledore had lifted the Anti-Apparition-Enchantment within the hall only. Normally the lessons would take place in Hogsmeade, but the constant flood of rain pouring down had made that impossible. The three Ds. Destination, Determination, Deliberation. Hermione wondered whether something like that applied on flying too – only the destination replaced by something else? Dematerialisation? De-detonation?
All heads rushed around. The teachers stormed towards Susan Bones, reuniting her with her leg inside a huge cloud of purple smoke. Hermione’s stomach wasn’t the only to crumple. Splinching. A horrible thought. Could similar happen when attempting to fly as well? Because, Apparating would be dematerialisation for a moment. But thinking about it, flying was constantly being nothing but fog and being hit by something could cause terrible damage, couldn’t it? Now she understood why he wouldn’t teach her before she could Apparate properly.
Trying to ignore Twycross’s lack of emotion regarding somebody splitting off their own body parts as if it was an everyday event to witness, they continued their attempts to reach the wooden hoops in front of them without only spinning around and accidentally stumbling or even falling inside of them.
She knew it was possible. She had done both ways of travelling, Side-Along. But somehow there was a lack of imagination. A wand is none other than a piece of wood filled with a magical creature’s token, concentrating the power of a mind to a bound beam. If the mind is weak, the wand is useless. Concentrating the power of a mind. But the only power that seemed willing to concentrate in her mind, was the power of her hormones. The power that made a strange tingling sensation rise in her body with every tiny move he made while patrolling through the hall. Squinting, she shortly shook her head.
“Concentrate, Hermione. Concentrate!”, she whispered to herself.
But the moment she had calmed down and actually concentrated on nothing but the will to move her body into the hoop, he walked past her row. A spin, and she finally belonged to those who had slammed their buttocks at the stone floor. Angry with herself, she could have sworn having seen him drop a faint smirk for a split second. Only when getting up, she felt an enormous pain in her left wrist. It had come so fast, she couldn’t even scream, but nevertheless wrapped her right fingers around it, staring at the hands. Curling her lips, she bit down the pain. She took a deep breath and swallowed it, not noticing that he had seen it.
Glad that the lesson was over, she hurried out of the hall, not without throwing a little nastiness at Ron who boasted about having felt – a tingling. Instead of upstairs, she disappeared in the other direction, running out into the Entrance Courtyard, instantly showered. Out of sight at the left foot of the stairs, she grabbed her wrist again, breathing heavily in pain. The rain and fresh cold air were no soothing. She tried to move a finger of her left hand, but it hurt even more. Pressing her mouth and eyes shut for a moment, Hermione felt tears coming.
She startled. A hand had settled on her left shoulder. Slightly relieved, she gazed up at him once again, his sopping black hair hanging straight down already.
“Drink that.”, he said softly, holding a flask in front of her nose with the other hand.
“Miss Granger?”, McGonagall came hurrying downstairs. “Oh there you are. Why do you run out into the rain? Severus? What – ”
“Her wrist broke when she fell over.”
“Oh no.”
“Now drink it.”, he whispered, replacing the stopper with his thumb so no rain would mix with the substance. “Or have you lost your trust in me?”
Quickly, she wrenched the flask from him and swallowed all its content down in one go – to his luck. By the moment she had done, she knew she would have spat it on him otherwise. Contorting her face about the horrible taste, she slightly fell against him, but he firmly caught her by her upper arms. After all, McGonagall was there. Hermione felt stupid.
“Wise choice to be vigorous.”, he grumbled. “Better now?”, Hermione realised that the pain was gone and that she could move her fingers without problems.
“Yes – ”, she aspirated.
“She should be fine, Minerva. It was just a broken wrist, after all. No need to – ”
“Minerva? What’re you doing out there in the rain?”, Slughorn peered outside.
“Oh nothing too special, Horace. I was just worried when I saw Granger storming out and followed. But it seems, Severus caught her earlier. She had only broken her wrist. All fixed. Everything fine again.”, Hermione saw Severus throw a demanding look at Slughorn which was confirmed with a nod, all in the split second between McGonagall looking from one to the other.
“Very well. Come back in then.”, he chuckled. “There’s no need for another teacher going to St Mungo’s, is there?”, she returned upstairs where she wanted to see whether the other two were coming as well, but Slughorn prevented that by putting his hand on her back. “How d’ they do in their first lesson?”
“Like usual.”, McGonagall sighed. “Susan Bones splinched, but we were quick enough. Some Dittany and she shall be all right.”, they were gone out of sight.
“I suppose we really need those allies.”, Hermione smirked coughing when he plugged the flask and slipped it into a pocket of his robe.
Without words, he pulled her close and nestled his face to her wet hair. Her right hand glided into his neck, clutching black bundles. Kissing in the rain was a strange experience, but they knew they wouldn’t be seen unless someone noticed their shapes being spared. When their passion faded to tenderness, Hermione opened her eyes. He looked like glass, drops of water running over his head. It made her understand. Understand that she was right about the difference between Apparating and flying.
“Does it hurt?”, she whispered, caressing his cheek with the tips of her now translucent fingers.
“Does what hurt?”
“Flying in the rain?”
“Finally you understood.”, he sighed. “Yes, it does. Even snow hurts.”
“Impervius is no help, right?”
“Not the slightest.”
~~#~~
“This can’t be for real.”, Harry muttered, holding Hermione back before she could follow him around the corner. “Can’t one go anywhere in a free period without bumping into them?”, Hermione sighed at the corner walls.
“Thanks for saving me from the sight.”
“Any time. Well, seems we need to make a detour. Feels like then, doesn’t it?”
“Then?”
“Second year, remember? Looking around corners with a mirror? Just in case – you know?”, she frowned at him, but slowly started laughing.
“Oh Harry – ”, she smirked, “That’s an awful comparison to put into my mind, you know?”, suddenly the mass of bustling students walking the one and other way around the corner split and something tall and black was striding into her sight, giving her a short glance as soon as he had spotted her. “Anyway – you go that way. I’ll take the detour.”
“Honestly – I can go with you.”, Harry sang, pointing around. “It’s not much of a deal. I know I can ignore them better, but – ”, there was Lavender’s high pitched giggle over all noises, “I don’t mind walking around with you.”
“Actually, I need to go to the loo.”, she contorted her face, hoping he would drop his kindness.
“Oh. Okay – er – then – see you later.”
“Yeah.”, he fleetingly waved and walked away.
The moment he had disappeared around the corner, Hermione turned on her heels and saw a black head vanish at another corner some way down the crammed corridor. Fearing she would lose him, she tried to speed up, which wasn’t easy due to the loads of students walking and standing in her surrounding. One corner further, he went to the left. Somehow she had the feeling that he had waited for her to catch up. Then he was gone behind a portrait. Just in time, she could grab the closing frame.
“Now, now, girl.”, the wizard in it bellowed. “There is no reason for – ”
“Quirks.”, she said curtly.
“Ah well, have it this way then.”, and the pressure against her hand eased when the portrait swung open again.
“Thank you.”
She heard his footsteps far upstairs already, getting puffed by hurrying after him. But there was more: a muffled gasp and another voice speaking, that of a woman.
“Gotcha.”, she whispered, just loud enough for the now frozen-in-place Hermione to hear. “I’ve been trying to catch you alone all day. One would think I’d gotten better at this.”
“Maybe I’ve gotten better too,”, he mumbled, clearly in his dialect.
“You know that I love you, don’t you?”
“Ye dun say.”, Hermione even heard the smirk he must have given – “Charity. ’T’s nuthin’, ye know.”
“That’s what you call it. But it means the world to me.”
“Well, I’m glad ye like it.”
“And that’s why I love you. You may be a complete nutter sometimes, but still you know me better than I know myself.”
“Good ter know.”
“Severus!”, she laughed. “What’s wrong with you?”
“Nuthin’,”
“I mean, I want to tell you that I love you, like every single time you look at me, and all you do is – shrugging?”
“Well, maybe ‘cause I know?”
“I know people could misunderstand,”, she grunted. “But this place is not exactly public,”
“’T’s no’ priva’e either,”
“It’s a friggin’ secret passage! How more secret could it be! Or do you want me to use a code or something?”, the disbelieving chuckle was apparently answered with another shrug Hermione couldn’t see in the dark, as well as due to the bend.
“Dunno.”
“And what should I say?”
“Dunno – like – `we’re friends´ – an’ – ”
“`We’re friends´.”, Burbage huffed. “Alright, you friend you. Out of context enough for a code.”
“Charity – I – ”
“I get it. You’re busy.”, somehow she didn’t even sound upset. “You know, I’m busy too. Need to get to the North Tower real quick. Let’s just get up there together, then I’ll leave you to your business, like real friends do.”
“Oh shu’ it.”
“Never.”, she laughed again, as they walked on and Hermione followed as quiet as she could, holding her breath, although she feared either would hear her heart pound.
“An’ wha’ve ye go’ ter do in tha North Tower?”
“I’m looking for a charming prince in shiny armour who’s hopefully not as busy as the other.”
“Wha’ ye need Cadogan fer?”
“Let’s say, you got Peeves; I need to improvise. Sluggy revenge. Noting special. You could get fired, but castle portraits are bound to the castle. No use hanging him off. So I’ll ask him instead.”
“Sure. See ye. Dun’ do anythin’ stupid.”
“I second this, you friend, you.”
“Tz.”
At the end of the staircase, she pushed away the still swinging tapestry. Down one more corridor he stood, waiting in the frame of a big ornamented door, holding it open for her – Burbage was nowhere to be seen. Her breath calming down, Hermione approached him and her mouth slightly gaped when he let her in. The big room was filled to the ceiling with all sorts of junk and furniture, leaving only small paths between.
“That’s – ”, she looked at the ceiling, “The Room of Requirement – ”, she aspirated when the door closed behind them, neatly. “Just – wow. Couldn’t you have made it become a little – less crammed?”, he slipped a bemused chuckle when he walked around her, towards an old table in the near. “So – ”, her tone changed from surprised to some sort of cheeky, making him turn shortly before the table, a soft smile on his light face when he watched her stepping closer. “Having a free period again?”, it was almost a whisper. “Oh sorry, I forgot – ”, she seductively bit her lower lip, “It’s always the same one we share – unfortunately not often enough.”, the last words came with a little sadness.
She was only inches away then, her right hand moving up to his left cheek. There she tenderly touched his skin and wrapped a bundle of his soft but very bouffant hair around her fingers, pulling his head down a bit by making a fist. A second later, they found themselves in a very slow and endearing kiss. Her hand slightly let go and brushed further into the black waves he must have washed in the morning. She could still smell a faint hint of apricot from that distance.
Severus’ hands gently wandered around her back and Hermione’s free one into his neck, up the back of his head. Just a tiny bit more, she opened her mouth with the next move, granting his tongue entrance. She shivered at the touch on her palate. Normally they didn’t kiss that deeply. But when they did – it was some sort of commando. Just moments from that, two cloaks, a tie and a lavallière slipped to the floor and buttons were opened. Her hands slid down over the little black hair spread evenly over his chest, past the locket and rings and the shrunken pouch, and his up her spine beneath her as well opened vest and blouse. With a muffled giggle of hers, her bra flicked open.
Hermione gave a quiet sigh when hair was wiped behind her right ear and his lips and tongue wandered over her cheek, slowly kissing down on her neck. At the same time as he took the clothes off her upper body, she opened his belt and the buttons of his trousers. Neither regretted the number of buttons there though. She felt her tights and underpants moving a little in direction of her knees beneath her skirt. Then she already was in the air, turned around and sat onto the table. She had no idea when he had levitated his cloak onto it to make the wood a little more comfortable. But, though not opening her eyes, she knew that he took something from his pouch while he gently laid her back onto the tabletop and kissed down on her body. When he reached her navel, she heard the quiet noise of something being torn open. Grinning broadly, she let him do.
~~#~~
The sound of the door being closed. Then, silence. Only the noise of the stuck record far at the inner end of the room. Her eyes were still red and swollen, but the tears had dried during the passed minutes, mostly from swallowing down her crying and the tries not to listen. Sure that they were gone, she raised from the floor and walked trough the rows of trash. Around a high tower of incredibly weird assembled old chairs, she nearly walked into someone. He had come as quietly as she had. After the first shock wore off, she saw that his grey-blue eyes were not much differing from her brown ones. Seeing him like this caused a feeling to rise in her that she would have never thought to have for him: it was a mix of curiosity, surprise, and growing sympathy. She could tell he felt the same when looking at her.
“What are you doing here?”, she aspirated; he swallowed a thick knot in his throat.
“I could ask you.”, he replied.
“I was hiding.”
“So – was I.”, he partly lied, grinding his teeth behind his parted lips, in thoughts, and blinked when he looked away to the floor.
“I thought the room wouldn’t let anyone in once someone’s inside and closed the door.”, she pondered.
“’Suppose it does, when the purpose’s the same.”, he chuckled with a faint grunt.
“You seen something?”, he just lightly shook his head.
“You?”
“No. And I’m – actually glad.”
“Since when does she – ”
“You know who she was?”
“I heard her talking – before – it – so yes, I know. Since when does she have a boyfriend?”
“Since when have you started to care for her private life?”, Ginny frowned.
“Well, it’s curious, isn’t it? I mean – Granger – of all – ”, another chuckle. “And then going to the Room of Requirement for a shag. Wicked world.”
“Yeah.”, she murmured. “Wicked world. You’ll keep quiet about it, won’t you?”
“Course. Who’d believe me anyway.”
“Exactly.”
“You don’t happen to know who, do you?”, Ginny hesitated for a moment, then walked off. “So you do?”
“That’s none of your business, Malfoy.”, she snorted. “Just shut up about it, if your life’s dear to you.”
~~#~~
Malfoy. Malfoy, Malfoy and Draco Malfoy again. As wonderful as it was that Ron was back after he had been poisoned accidentally and actually found Lavender annoying, Harry’s constant blabbing about Malfoy was driving her mad. Of course it had been him, trying to curse and poison Dumbledore. But letting him figure out details of the truth while she had known it for several months, was horror. As much horror as it was that Ron couldn’t officially break up with Lavender when they already virtually hated each other. Just as much as Ginny and Dean. Hermione sighed. It was in the genes, then.
But at least she knew now that the thing Severus and Dumbledore were still not totally sure about, had definitely something to do with those strange things called Horcruxes and a smashed memory of Slughorn, of which Harry still hadn’t managed to get the intact version. The dormitory door opened.
“Here you are.”, Ginny said, having found Hermione sitting on one of the large inner windowsills, staring out into the rain.
“What is it?”
“Nothing. I just – wondered where you went. Suddenly you were gone. I thought I might try up here first.”
“Aren’t you going to your Transfiguration?”
“McGonagall’s cancelled it. She went to St Mungo’s. There’s news of Katie.”
“Really?”, Hermione straightened a little so Ginny could sit down opposite to her. “How’s she doing?”
“I don’t know. McGonagall’s been so hasty I couldn’t really tell whether she was happy or worried.”
“Oh.”, for some seconds, they just looked at each other.
“It’s gotten a bit quiet around you.”
“What?”
“Now that Ron’s at least a little back at his senses. If I wasn’t needing to draw attention to me so you could sneak out and if I didn’t see those little glimpses you exchange during meals, I’d think you two broke up.”
“Oh no. We just went a bit more underground.”
“Less wandering around, more sitting in the Dungeons?”, Ginny chuckled, making Hermione laugh.
“That too. No – we – well, we learned caution. Or at least, I learnt. He knows it perfectly well, even though I can see him struggling a little when I look at him.”
“He’s a great actor.”
“He is.”
“And it seems you learnt a lot from him. Harry came to me yesterday, asking whether I knew when you decided to study his way of speaking. Even Ron says you’re almost like a copy of him already, not only because you’re slapping everyone with books.”
“Well, it’s great fun.”, Hermione giggled. “It takes people a long time to notice we butcher one another openly in a way he couldn’t blame me for any of my words, even if he wanted.”
“So – you never said – what’s it like? Being together with someone so very much older, I mean?”
“It’s only nineteen years.”, Hermione frowned.
“Only.”, Ginny noted.
“I – oh come on.”, laughed Hermione. “So very much older. That sounds like I hook up with Dumbledore or so.”, she shook her head with a grin. “And besides, that is very impossible.”, she added under her breath.
“What’s that?”
“Nothing. I mean – what are nineteen years?”
“You are seventeen.”, Ginny pointed out.
“Now shut up!”, she laughed again.
“So? What’s it like? What’s – he – like?”, Hermione needed a moment to think.
“Skilled.”
“Skilled?”, Ginny chuckled dully. “Meaning?”
“Well – his toes are – quite flexible – ”
“Toes.”
“Yes – I mean – if he feels like it, he just picks up things from the floor with his toes. Clothes, mainly. And his wand.”
“He can pick up his wand.”, her stare couldn’t have been more bored. “With his toes. Fascinating.”
“It is, isn’t it?”
“Sure.”
“I mean, how many people can pick up their wand from the floor, with only their toes?”
“Luna.”, Ginny remained indifferent.
“Sorry?”
“Not at all. I said, Luna can.”
“Oh.”, it dawned on her, that she wouldn’t get around a certain topic.
“And I wasn’t talking about his wand-picking-skills. I don’t really want to know what else he can do with his toes, and if it’s playing chess.”
“Well,”, Hermione leaned back, her head turned upwards with a grin, “Actually, he can.”
“Now that’s good news, if Harry should accidentally curse his arms off one day,”
“Ginny – ”, the full number of possible meanings to that sentence hadn’t reached her enough to make her grin go away.
“So?”
“Amazing.”
“Simply?”
“Simply.”
“So I got it right with the years.”
“What?”, her head zoomed back down.
“Experience.”
“Oh – not really, you know? He’s not a womaniser. The complete opposite, actually. But okay – I won’t deny he has some experience and a very special way to – think – ”, Hermione blushed.
“Think?”, chuckled Ginny again, though a little more lively.
“Please don’t make me explain. I can’t.”
“But you are aware that he’s a grown man, not one of those idiotic beetle-heads around our age though?”
“More than anything.”, Hermione nodded lightly. “I mean, he can be childish, but still.”
“He might, you know – he might want – one day – ”
“You think he’d want to have sex?”, Hermione now chuckled.
“Yes.”, Ginny sighed, trying not to give herself away.
“Well, then you might want to pay attention now.”
“Don’t say he belongs to those rare kind of men who are said to exist? Those who would care for a woman’s wish before they take us?”
“He does.”, Hermione sneered. “And I said yes.”, there was a very long pause, accompanied by the sound of the rain clashing with the window.
“You – ”, Ginny fake-aspirated quite convincingly, presenting her a full variety of eyebrow movement, “You had sex?”
“Yes.”
“When?”
“First time on his birthday.”
“What? You mean – after detention? Has he even – ”
“Yes, it was detention. I really had to sort Runespoor eggs with O’Nelly. He totally scared me that evening. Even more than when he played `The Werewolf and the Dementor´.”, both giggled.
“How did he do that, by the way? It was crazy!”
“I have no idea. All I know is that he could do it as a child already. I just didn’t expect him to be so good at it either.”
“Really? I mean, that felt like extraordinarily powerful magic. And what was that thing about the trains?”, Hermione blushed.
“Relationships, I guess. But he refuses to talk about it.”
“So it is.”
“Quite likely, yes.”
“You reckon, Remus – you think, he’s got a crush on – ”
“What?”, Hermione chuckled hollow. “No. No way.”
“But if it was really about relationships, it would only make sense,”
“You think?”
“Yeah. It sounded like that. Poor Tonks.”
“In that case, she would be, yes. Severus is definitely not the type to start something with a guy and if Remus was and being so keen on him he wouldn’t stop fighting to get him, totally.”, she considered.
“That’d be tough. Just imagine – they already argued about it in public! How far would that go, you think?”
“Stop putting images in my head.”
“What?”
“Forget it. Where was I before?”
“The evening.”
“Oh yes. I thought I’d screwed. But it seems, he can forgive me anything. And well, it was a wonderful night then.”
“You actually did it?”
“Yes.”, Hermione grinned.
“But it was only that night, was it?”, Hermione thought she could see some strange concern in Ginny’s eyes, not definable whether she was worried that it was only one time or whether it was more than one time.
“No?”
“And? Is it – is it true what – what’s said about noses?”, Ginny blushed.
“What?”, Hermione giggled. “Oh – you mean – oh!”
“Stop laughing at me.”
“Sorry.”, she was as flushed as her now.
“Well?”
“Yes – I mean, somehow. He’s – oh god, Ginny! Don’t make – ”, Hermione laughed even more, unable to cope with her embarrassment. “Well, okay, we’ve had some complicated moments, but we found ways.”
“So you enjoy it?”
“I couldn’t tell a thing I wouldn’t enjoy about him, to be honest.”
“He’s not too big?”
“No. Not really. Er – wait – Ginny – has Dean – ?”
“No. He – ”, a sigh, “He hasn’t touched me at all, actually. Not in that fashion.”
“Okay.”, now Hermione was indeed a bit worried about that look on her face. “Would you – want him to?”, Ginny gazed out of the window.
“I don’t know – maybe – maybe not – ”, a pause, “Rather not – ”, she lowered her head. “But you do use condoms, hopefully?”, it was obvious that Ginny wanted to distract herself from thoughts of Dean.
“Of course we do. As much as we love each other, what would it look like if I got pregnant from one of my t-”, the door was pushed open.
“What are you doing in here?”, mere rage in Lavender Brown’s face and voice, projected on Hermione.
“It is my dormitory as well.”, Hermione murmured, but Lavender just let out a blow, turned and slammed the door shut again, causing the other two girls staring at where she had disappeared for about half a minute.
“You think she’d be more relaxed if she knew you have sex with Snape?”
They exchanged a distinct look and burst out into laughter.
~~#~~
It had gotten a bit late. A bit very late actually, when Harry returned from the grounds under his Invisibility Cloak. He had just had the most profitable visit at Hagrid’s. In his pocket stuck a phial, containing a memory that would be the key to success. Smiling broadly, he marched towards the marble staircase and – almost ran into someone. Luna Lovegood was hopping downstairs, humming a happy song. Not knowing why he felt the sudden need to follow her, he did, blaming Felix Felicis once again in his half-consciousness. Her hair and skirt bumping, she hopped through the Entrance Hall and towards the open doors of the Great Hall. To his surprise, the hall was brightly lit. A black grand piano stood sideways on the podium. But the moment he noticed it, his feet stopped moving, some yards into the hall already.
Luna hopped straight towards a tall black figure that sat at the – Gryffindor table? His green eyes widened behind his glasses as he watched her sit down next to him with a happy smile, her back to the table. But due to his back being turned to the middle corridor and his face leaning on the fingers of his right hand as well as the veil of black hair falling into it, Harry couldn’t see whether he reacted on her arrival in any way.
“Hello, Professor.”, Luna sang.
“Good evening, Miss Lovegood.”, it was a long, low murmur without changing his position a tenth of an inch. “Can I help you?”
“What are you reading there, Sir?”
“Nothing you could read.”, he sighed boredly and Luna leaned over a bit to see the book.
“Are those Cyrillic letters?”
“Yes.”
“Which language?”
“Russian.”, he mumbled.
“May I have a try?”, his thumb remained at the page when he clapped the book shut so Luna could see the title. “Erm – F- Fyodor? Is that right?”
“Go on,”
“Do – s – to – évsky? Fyodor Dostoévsky? Who is that? I have never heard of him.”
“Now you have.”, he grunted and opened the book again, but Luna wouldn’t give up. “Wha-?”, she had pushed her fingers under the cover and lifted it once more to read the title.
“I – idiot? Is it really called like this?”, she snickered.
“Yes.”, Snape huffed and almost crashed her hand beneath the cover.
“What an interesting title.”, Harry thought that too. “What’s it about?”
“That is too complicated to say in short.”, to his surprise, Harry heard footsteps from behind. “And your colleagues are coming.”
“Oh. Yes.”, she had spotted them. “I’ll better go now, don’t I?”
“A wise decision.”, he grumbled over the sound of the chatting students.
Luna jumped up and hopped towards the podium where she came to halt, turned with her hands behind her back and whipped back and forth, continuing her humming. Throwing confused looks at him, which were ignored, the students went through the hall to join her. They all, like her, wore their school uniform. Harry noticed that there were no Slytherins among them. He knew the names of some, but most people he had just seen from the distance so far. However, there were the Patil twins who walked arm in arm. They even stopped behind Snape for a moment to look at his – hair.
“What is he doing here?”, Padma whispered just loud enough Harry could hear her.
“I don’t know. But he’s washed his hair.”
“Very charming, Miss Patil.”, the girls jumped. “To obviously think my hair is thick enough that I cannot hear you.”, embarrassed, they hurried on, followed by Fay Dunbar and Susan Bones, who gave them questioning glances from the side.
The next minutes passed filled with whispering. Every now and then, someone would look at the teacher who seemed to be badly wrong in place to them. Then everyone turned at once to the small man who came hurrying into the hall, slamming the doors shut with his wand. As if he had been prepared, Snape didn’t wince at all.
“Sorry!”, Flitwick panted, a pile of paper on his left arm and a baton in his right hand which he had taken from the pocket he had put his wand into. “Sorry, sorry, sorry. Peeves found it funny to – ”, he nearly dropped the sheets when he spotted the person at the Gryffindor table. “Severus? What are you doing here?”
“Reading.”
“But you know that we are having a choir practice now?”
“Oh, forgive me. I forgot why students would gather next to a piano, in the Great Hall, in the middle of the night.”, he snorted.
“Uh oh. Still having that bad day?”, Flitwick chuckled. “Whatever. You should know yourself how to leave when you don’t stand it anymore. They will learn a new song today.”
“Fantastic.”, Snape sighed. “I will speak a silent prayer for you.”
“Now, they aren’t that horrible.”
“We’ll see.”
“Yes, yes. Continue reading then.”, he scurried on.
“As if you could stop me.”, either Flitwick hadn’t heard – or ignored it.
“Fine, line up everyone and hand these through, please.”, he gave the pile to a Ravenclaw boy and went to the piano to get a tune. “Well, well. Got the tone? Good. Warm-up, if you please.”
Having grown enough interest; and actually seeing no possibility to leave the hall without being noticed; Harry settled himself at the Hufflepuff table right where he had stopped and listened to the exercises. Five minutes later, Flitwick sat down on the high stool in front of the piano and gave the students some more tones so they knew how to start. He went through the different scores, nitpicking here and there, especially on the solo, which Harry found a bit unfair because the boy had a pretty good voice.
“Stop, stop, stop. Now Mr Withby, are you sure, you are feeling well? You sound as if you suffered from a cold.”
“That is because his voice isn’t made for it.”, the boy blushed immediately at the groaned sentence.
“Oh he’s perfectly made for that, Severus. You should hear what he normally can sing.”
“But not this one. For how long has he been in the choir?”
“Two years.”
“Well, if it took you two years to not figure out that he is a pure soprano, then I am terribly sorry for you. He can’t sing the deep parts. Not even after that voice break that influenced his speaking horribly.”
“And what do you expect me to do?”
“Transpose the song.”
“I beg you pardon?”, even from the distance Harry could see some sort of terror rising in Flitwick’s small eyes.
“You have understood me, Filius. Unless you wish to torture my ears or Whitby’s throat, you will have to transpose it.”
“This is an eight pages song! I can’t just transpose it right now! And to which major anyway?”
“A flat, for example?”
“But this is in f flat and there are far too many notes.”
“Don’t tell me anything about that song. You know that I know it.”, Harry was frankly surprised already. “And stop wailing. If you need help, ask.”, he stood up, took off his reading glasses and marched towards the piano.
“What are you doing?”, Flitwick earned himself a horrifying look, that much Harry could tell. “Alright, alright.”
Snape put the glasses back on, cranked the stool down so he could sit properly and examined the score for a minute. Then he began playing, a little higher than the choir had sang before and got the students on his side from the first ten tones on. With visible amazement, they listened to his playing. When he was through the instrumental intro, he started singing – and Harry’s heart dropped. Even though the still lasting effect of the potion dazed him a bit, the voice rushed through his veins and bones like electricity. Trembling, his lips drifted apart and his eyes opened more with every note.
Luna joined in, her face on him instead of the paper, apparently knowing the song good enough already. As angelic as her voice still was, there was also some strong, yet innocent touch to it. Slowly, more and more students sang their parts, but his voice was still sticking out, naturally, and so was Luna’s. The beauty of the song paralysed Harry likewise as his voice did. One of the gilded doors of the hall was opened only enough for another boy to peek in. Harry recognised the pale face, fair hair and grey eyes. As stunned as Harry, Draco Malfoy listened, staring up to the podium.
The music became a little more quiet and subtle, the choir reduced. He sang in between with Luna, with increasing volume and vigorousness. Then, like a shower of glittering sparks on the night sky, the song climaxed with the full force of the choir and piano and the hair at Harry’s neck stood totally straight up when he experienced the immense range and variety of his teacher’s voice amidst them.
Flitwick just stood there, his baton limply in his hand, tears flowing over his cheeks. All, the choir, his and Luna’s solo lines and the piano were completely different, but melted to a thrilling harmony. Harry tried to fight off the thought. He fought it hard. But the song even forced tears into his eyes. He fought against the feeling that it wasn’t the song but his voice. He fought against – warmth. He battled that feeling of warming arms. Looking at Malfoy’s mourning face was no help either. He gritted his teeth on the blurred, gloomy image of a face in half shadow, of dark eyes staring into his, so visibly happy like he had never seen them before. It couldn’t be real. It just couldn’t be. That was Felix Felicis hoaxing him.
The song was over, yet resounded on for some seconds between the high walls of the ancient hall. Just one more line from Luna into the quivering silence, and the subtle hint of a chord.
Flitwick took a deep breath and tried to wipe away his tears without being noticed. But he wasn’t the only one, some of the choristers had glassy eyes as well. Malfoy’s lips curled as he turned and looked straight into the boy’s eyes. Harry saw sadness he was certain he would never see again and should better never think about ever either. Then the dark eyes slightly moved. And Harry’s heart sank for the second time. It was just a brief moment before he looked back at the piano, but Harry could have sworn he had looked directly at him. It was the same kind of feeling he had had with Dumbledore four years ago in Hagrid’s hut. Only – a little – more –
Harry swallowed. Could he see him or had it just been imagination? He looked down on himself, but he was still completely covered. If he could see him – all those moments he had run into him invisible when sneaking out at night – all those moments – he had looked at him, Harry knew. But he had always thought he had imagined. Could it actually be that he had ignored him? If he had, that would mean –
Hermione’s words in his head were the biggest pain now. He saved your life and that must have a reason. No, Harry thought. She was wrong. It was only imagination. A figment created by Felix Felicis. But the potion was fading, Harry felt it. Still. It had been his father who had sung the song Luna had sung on the tower. It had been his father, not – how could they have possibly let him touch their son anyway? No. It was late and he was under the influence of a potion. And the look had just been like that because he wore reading specs. Just like Dumbledore. Yes, it were the glasses. Absolutely. The – glasses –
“Severus?”, Flitwick squeaked.
“Yes?”, staring at the piano, the answer was as cold as usual.
“Would you want to join the choir again?”, again?
“This is a students-only choir.”, he snorted, took off his specs and slipped them into a pocket of his robe.
“Oh come on. We could – ”, Snape spun around on the piano stool, his hands on his thighs and pierced his eyes into Flitwick’s; Harry could see him gritting his teeth behind his closed lips.
“What. Make a teachers’ choir? Honestly, Filius. You know as much as I do that we two and Charity are the only ones among the entire Hogwarts staff that can keep a straight note.”
“Horace – ”
“Is a drunkard.”, the whole choir gasped at the harshly spoken words. “Hoping for him to sing better when he is sober, is a hope in vain, not solely because the only times he is not drunk are while he has to hold classes. And I wouldn’t dare betting on that either.”
“Have you ever considered trying to find a cure for his problem?”, already much taller when sitting, the fact that he stood up and looked down on his colleague made every visible confidence in Flitwick’s face vanish at an instant.
“I have since I could brew a Forgetfulness Potion, believe me. And that was before I got my letter.”
“Oh – I had no idea you knew him previous to school – ”
“I thought you wouldn’t get that one”, he huffed. “However, no, I failed. Even my mother failed at this particular thing one day, when persuasion was not enough anymore. And that means a lot. There were not many things my mother didn’t succeed at. So, first, teachers’ choir, forget it. Second, you remember well, why I left your choir, so the answer is still no.”, he counted ferociously on his fingers. “Third, when will you finally learn that once someone with at least a spark of musical talent has got a song in their ear, they don’t need a whole script transposed to be able to sing it? They will look at the score and sing according to it from the tune you give them first. You can do the rest all during the time until the performance. Fourth, if you haven’t noticed, the students are tired the morning after every practice. So, either set it earlier or to a Friday, or alternatively, a Saturday.”
“Aha! You suddenly care – ”
“And fifth, we have a curfew. Does that ring a bell? If you have to practice so late after dinner, write them a certificate that identifies them as members of your choir. I’m sick of telling the Aurors who’s allowed out of bed at which day, at which time, and I’m not the only one. You should have heard Minerva last week when they didn’t want to let Macmillan continue his shift just because he forgot his Prefect’s badge.”
“Now you listen to me.”, Flitwick raised his left index finger and got to his toes, which wasn’t much of a difference, but actually quite impressive to watch. “Just because we have been colleagues for nearly sixteen years, it doesn’t mean you can stand up against me and believe your size gives you the right to blame me in front of my choir.”
“I was merely giving you some advices.”, Snape champed through his teeth with rage. “But if you want to see it this way, I must sadly admit, I wasted my time. You know, there was a moment when I considered actually rejoining the choir. But you showed me this was only a useless illusion. If you excuse me now, a good book is waiting for me on that table,”, he pointed at it, “And that, I believe, is a far better way to spend my spare time with than with trying to bring over pig-headed people like you.”
The students were frozen in shock. None of them had ever witnessed him arguing like that, especially not with a colleague, for reasons they would have never guessed possible either. But he didn’t care. He stormed off, directed his left hand on the book which closed and soared towards him, caught it and shoved it into his other pocket. Shortly before he reached the door, Draco Malfoy jumped back in surprise. The doors had fallen shut. Flitwick, the baton exchanged with his wand another time, pointed that stick on the heavy wings, trembling a little and gritting his teeth with a fury Harry had never seen on the otherwise so cheerful small man.
Snape slid to halt right next to Harry, his face straight at the doors. Harry startled. It was just a whisper, loud enough for only him to hear, but the words were spoken so fast he could hardly catch up with the information.
“Ingenious, how you even manage to profit from such terrible things as your pitiful Occlumency skills, Potter. You, and Gryffindor House, can call yourselves lucky that I turn a blind eye to your reason for sneaking out again. Ah yes, forgot, right? You have to deliver something, don’t you? Well, when you find he has returned, also deliver him my congratulations on having created himself an obedient lapdog. You will leave this hall with me, Potter, and I don’t want to see you again until breakfast, understood? Not a single time during my watch, which starts in fifteen minutes, neither visible, nor under that cloak of yours, got me?”
“I am not done with you yet!”, Flitwick bellowed.
“But I am done with you, Filius.”
He snapped with his fingers and to everyone’s surprise, Flitwick’s wand left his hand and clattered onto the floor. Snape rushed on so quick that Harry almost forgot to get up and follow him. Nevertheless careful not to step on his cloak or reveal himself in any other way, he walked after him in the same pace to the doors that stood ajar once more. A flick of panic on his face, Malfoy stared at his Head of House.
“You, come with me.”, the boy did as he was ordered. “Honestly, how luckily stupid are you? There are Aurors patrolling the castle. Everyone knows whose son you are. What do you expect, they would do to you if they caught you wandering around? Giving you cookies? And a cup of freshly made hot chocolate to dip them in?”, Harry hurried after them, down to the Dungeons. “What were you thinking?”
“I have work to do!”, Malfoy hissed.
“Work you can do at daytime. You are a student. Being a Prefect doesn’t excuse being out of bed at night apart from your shift. That badge is no shield that will defend you against the Aurors. They will question you nevertheless, and believe me, they will do it in a thorough way that will make you wish you were capable of killing them to spare yourself from your fate. You know what they did to your father.”, Malfoy winced at the mention. “These days, Aurors are as much saints as any Death Eater out there. So, unless you beg for it – ”
“I don’t.”, Malfoy grumbled.
“Fine. Then your task is clear. Stick to the rules. Be an exemplary student. Work at day, sleep at night. It is as simple as this.”
They turned into the last corridor before the one to the Slytherin common room and Snape stopped, grabbing Malfoy’s right upper arm. Harry had to halt as well. Otherwise, they would have caught the sound of his steps. Unfortunately he was too far away to hear what Snape whispered into Malfoy’s ear. The boy’s eyes however widened and he looked up the inch of difference in their eyes’ height from the ground, opening his mouth. But he was silenced by more words and swallowed. Then Harry saw something that surprised him more than anything else he had seen or heard on that utmost peculiar evening and the following half of the night: Snape removed his hand and laid it onto Malfoy’s cheek instead. Covered from Harry by his hair, he gazed down at him for a moment before he patted gently on his shoulder.
“Go.”, a simple word, his tone utterly concerned.
“I got – ”, Malfoy started.
“Go now.”, he lightly pushed him into the corridor. “Quick, before someone sees you.”
“Well, I already – ”
“Go.”
Staring after the boy, he shortly shook his head, turned and walked towards the invisible Harry, anger in every feature of his blue lit face. By his preparedness, Harry knew that he had noticed him following. Snape threw a brief look over his shoulder, making sure that Malfoy was gone.
“Although I consider him intelligent enough to have discovered that little habit of yours by now, I advise you not to tell him that you are spying on more people than the ones he orders you to. He might not take it too well.”
“Why the ruddy heck can you see me?”, Harry murmured.
“Why the ruddy heck can you see me, Sir, Potter. I don’t recall having permitted you to speak to me like that somewhen in the past. So, unless you wish to throw another reckless phrase at me, I suggest you go to your dormitory, before I forget myself and loss of points is the least you need to worry about.”, he snarled, but Harry felt enough of the potion left in his veins to believe he couldn’t be harmed. “And as I said, it is quite possible that it does not please him to find out you are sneaking after people he does not consider being subject to your task. You do not wish this bit of information to be the last you confront him with.”
“Is this a threat, Sir?”
“No, it is a warning that you should finally grow up and think before you act. I hoped, all your little accidents would for once have a positive effect on your brain and that you receive the message life is so desperately trying to send you. But it seems, I was wrong. And take that way there.”, he pointed at the other side of the corridor fork.
“Why.”, Harry crossed his arms under his cloak.
“Because, the Aurors are foolish enough to have a strict schedule. Any moment, one of them will come down the corridor we just walked through and he wears glasses, their function nothing short of Alastor Moody’s eye.”, Snape hissed, a vein pulsing at his temple which Harry hadn’t seen in quite a while. “I assure you, Dumbledore does not wish more people to find out about your little secret.”, he shortly seized a bit of the Invisibility Cloak, shook it and let go, his left arm still pointed into the corridor.
“How can you see me?”, Harry repeated, dropping his arms lividly.
“And don’t tell anyone else, ever. Understood?”, Snape spat. “I will make sure nobody will talk about the events of the evening, but call yourself lucky that I leave you the choice to do with the information what you consider as – wise, if that is even possible for you. So, everything you have seen and heard after you entered the hall stays between you and me and us alone. Otherwise, pray to your mother in Heaven that I may forgive you.”
“How d– ”
“Get off!”, he barked, but quiet enough it could still be declared as a hiss.
Understanding that he had not really enough time for the potion to save him from Snape’s rage, Harry held up the seams of his cloak and rushed into the corridor that eventually led him upstairs and into the Entrance Courtyard. He dropped the fabric and crashed with his back against a pillar of the archway. There was that Auror Snape had mentioned. The man actually wore odd glasses that sat like a rim around his entire head. He gave the front gate an opening wave of his wand and Harry waited for him to disappear, but the man stopped in place. Harry’s heart pounded so loud he feared it would give him away. Though the reason for the man coming to halt was another.
“Oi!”, it was Slughorn; out of sight; who had apparently woken up and returned to the castle while Harry had been in the hall.
“Identification?”, the Auror pointed his wand at him.
“Prufffesssur Horrrace, Erric, Fredderric Slughoorn,”, he sang dull, “Potions Maaster of zhis scho-ol an’ Head off Slyth-herinn Hoouse. Uh well, fargif me my bad pronnounciciation. I hadda little late-night drrrrink with a collleague.”, the Auror lowered his wand. “Grrreat work, ya do there, boy. Mind a walk?”
“Oh come on, Horace. We were in the same class. Don’t you ever stop calling me `boy´?”, the Auror laughed and entered the castle, strangely forgetting about the open gate.
Harry saw this as his chance and rushed to one of the doors, peering in. The men were gone, but so was the effect of the potion. He could just walk in properly before the huge wings closed on their own. Worried now, he looked out for any sign of someone who might have possibly done that to the gate, but there was no one to be seen. He could still hear the choir practising in the Great Hall. Flitwick was really mad to let them do that at such a time. What time was it anyway? Harry checked his watch. Five minutes after midnight. In case he might stumble over his cloak, he decided to climb up the marble staircase close to the right handrail.
Even though running past him only three feet away, Harry couldn’t see the man who leaned lazily against the short border pillar of the handrail, his arms and legs crossed and a concerned smirk on his face as he looked after the boy who didn’t know that it was his father who had just sent him the drunk teacher whom he had confunded to distract the Auror. Like so many times, he didn’t see. But as wonderful as it would be, the risk would be too big, the result too fatal.
Severus’ smile fell into sadness when his head turned back to the floor and his arms sank. Taking a deep breath, he composed and pushed himself off the pillar. Silently, he walked upstairs, in a different direction than Harry.
~~#~~
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