What Goes Around... Part, um... Six?
Team:Spy for the Order
Challenge: Headmistress Hermione
Rating:PG
A/N: Sorry, Order. A lot of drabbles, but not all of them count.
Earlier parts here
Unbeta'd for the moment - usual disclaimer applies.
Slam!
Albus rocked his frame in his mirth. 'You old fraud. The Raven's nothing more than a legend!'
'Like the Chamber of Secrets was, you mean?' Phineas glared angrily at him.
'You've been at the linseed oil again, haven't you?' Albus retorted. 'If you think Salazar's familiar is still guarding his house a thousand years after his departure, I'd say you were due for a new coat of varnish.'
'Gentlemen, please,' Minerva cut in.
'Slytherin's in danger,' Phineas snarled, getting to his feet. 'The Raven's return proves it, and there's only one person I trust to do something about it.'
* * *
There were few occasions these days that warranted a trip to the dungeons. Never Hermione's favourite part of the castle, she nonetheless invariably felt nostalgic for her schooldays whenever she descended the stairs, remembering times past when she and her fellow Gryffindors would huddle together with unease as they entered Slytherin territory.
Nodding briefly at the Bloody Baron, Hermione entered the Potions classroom. Other than some posters on the walls demonstrating various cutting techniques and aide-memoires stressing the lethal consequences of combining certain ingredients, it was virtually unchanged. Hermione smiled in approval at these sensible innovations as she glanced about...
'Headmistress.' Professor Burbage shot to his feet. 'Is something wrong?'
'No. Please,' Hermione said, moving towards his desk. 'There's no need to get up. It's a small matter. Phineas Black asked me to stop by.'
'Phineas...?’ Burbage frowned. 'Oh, the portrait.' He grinned from under his floppy fringe.
Hermione couldn't help but smile back. Gary Burbage was only a few years older than her; tall and good looking in a puppy-dog sort of way-and he knew it. 'Phineas may be a portrait,' she said, 'but he's given me wise counsel over the years, and I consider him a friend.'
Hermione took a deep breath. 'It's about Betty the Bloodthirsty-'
'Have you ever seen that-that thing?'
'No, I haven't.' Betty had always been away whenever she'd visited the Slytherin common room; whether she was deliberately hiding from her, Hermione didn't know. Keeping tabs on the castle's paintings was virtually impossible, anyway; she'd tried cataloguing them once, but their inhabitants wouldn't stay still long enough.
'It's the stuff of nightmares.’ Burbage ran his fingers through his hair, sighing. 'I mean, would you want a vampire about to plunge a fork into a heart-a still beating heart-hanging on your wall?'
Remembering the skull candle-holders she'd personally destroyed, Hermione shuddered. I understand, and I've every faith in you, Gary. Reforming Slytherin house was one of my main priorities, as you know. But I have to keep the old guard happy.' Smiling, she turned to leave.
'Talking of the "old guard", have you had a word with... him?'
Hermione paused, hand on the doorknob. 'If you mean Professor Snape, no, not yet.' She glanced back. 'Was there anything else?'
'That offer of dinner still stands.'
Hermione rolled her eyes. 'And the answer's still no.'
He laughed. 'You can't blame me for trying.'
* * *
Feeling heaps better for a shower, Severus towelled himself dry and padded into his bedroom. As usual, a clean robe and underwear had been laid out ready for him. He dressed hastily, feeling ravenous after his exertions and ready for dinner. Lacing up his boots, he heard someone call out his name. Severus groaned. 'What is it Phineas?'
'Snape? Where the devil are you?'
Smirking, Severus leant against the door frame and watched Phineas unsuccessfully trying to beat off a swarm of insects. ‘Here.’
'Couldn't you have gone for a nice woodland scene?' Phineas grumbled. 'A pox on these midges!'
'The Raven's just a myth.' Severus shook his head in disbelief. ‘It simply isn’t possible.’
'Well... ' Phineas shrugged. 'Granted the story's been embellished somewhat over the years-you know how Gryffindors love legends and that sort of thing-and talking of Gryffindors-’
Pinching the bridge of his nose, Severus sighed. 'What's she done now?'
'What's she done?' Phineas spluttered. 'Apart from appointing a-a non-Slytherin as Head of House, destroying the common room's décor and preventing me from keeping an eye on things, you mean?'
'There's nothing I can do about it, Phineas.'
'Just talk to her, Severus, please...'
* * *
The thing with elves, Severus thought, was that they took things to extremes. He'd casually mentioned that he enjoyed the odd glass of scotch, and within the hour, a drinks cabinet had appeared filled with bottles of some of the finest single malts ever distilled. Pouring himself a large one and sitting down, Severus waited for the inevitable. While he had no wish to get involved in school politics, it seemed he had no choice in the matter. Phineas' concerns weren't unfounded; Severus, too, was uneasy.
The flames in the grate flared green.
'Come through, Hermione. I've been expecting you.'
'I'd read about it in Hogwarts: a History, of course.' Hermione sipped her whisky.
'Naturally.'
'But I never gave it any credence.' She turned her gaze to the fire.
Severus watched the flickering light softening her features, fascinated by the flecks of copper and gold in the wild mess surrounding her head.
'Do you think there's any truth in it?'
Startled out of his musings, he nodded. 'Salazar did leave his familiar behind, that's true enough, but it wasn't immortal. Phineas thinks the bird could be a descendent.'
Hermione raised an eyebrow. 'It still all sounds pretty far-fetched to me.'
'You must understand that Phineas comes from another time-'
'You don't need to remind me.' Hermione sighed. 'I know he's not happy with my reforms, but they're necessary.' When Severus remained silent, she continued, 'It's always seemed to me that Slytherin never quite... belonged-it was always them and us. Well, no more. I want a united school, and I want Muggles to be understood and Muggleborns to be welcomed. Everyone has a contribution to make.'
'A noble sentiment and, yes, you are right,' Severus conceded. Slytherin has always been... the outcast, but an outsider simply cannot understand our traditions.'
‘Ah... traditions.’ Feeling awkward, Hermione stared into her glass. 'I’m sorry, but Professor Burbage is afraid you're undermining his authority-'
'Preposterous.' Severus snorted. 'I cannot prevent the little miscreants from approaching me, but I refuse to be inconvenienced by the trivial problems of love-sick adolescents. I always used to let Poppy deal with that sort of thing.'
Hermione giggled.
'And as every Slytherin is sworn to secrecy regarding in-house matters, I cannot for the life of me understand why he's so worried-unless, of course, he has something to hide.'
'An oath? You're not serious.'
'Oh, but I am.'
'Salazar was probably paranoid, but he didn't trust the other founders to respect his beliefs once he'd gone,' Severus explained. 'Which was why he placed the dormitories and common room underground-away from prying eyes. Originally, they were housed in their own tower-just like Gryffindor and Ravenclaw.'
'And Hufflepuff?' Hermione asked intrigued.
'Badgers will be badgers.' The corner of his mouth twitched. 'But, yes... Them and us...' He sighed. 'So, before Salazar left, the Slytherins swore an oath of allegiance, and his familiar remained as his eyes and ears waiting for his return. But, of course, that never happened...'
* * *
It had been an enjoyable evening, Severus thought, climbing into bed. The Headmistress was surprisingly convivial company; she even shared his love of good whisky. Who would have believed it? He stared at the canopy a while, contemplating their earlier discussion. She was at least aware of his misgivings-whether or not she chose to act remained to be seen. Yawning, he turned over.
In the living room, Purdy appeared and began tidying up. Two glasses? She sniffed. Headmistress Granger's perfume! Tip-toeing towards the bedroom, she stopped at the door, wondering if they'd... but all she could hear was snoring.
Disappointed, Purdy shook her head and sighed at the sleeping wizard. What was wrong with humans? Why couldn't they sort out their own affairs?
Severus stirred and muttered something unintelligible. Well aware of his nightmares, Purdy crooned a lullaby until he was sleeping peaceful again. It wasn't right; Headmaster Snape deserved to have someone to love in his life, but short of locking him in a room with Headmistress Granger... Purdy's eyes widened, wondering if she dared. She would have to consult the others, but it was, at least, a plan. Snapping her fingers, she Apparated back to the kitchens.
Challenge: Headmistress Hermione
Rating:PG
A/N: Sorry, Order. A lot of drabbles, but not all of them count.
Earlier parts here
Unbeta'd for the moment - usual disclaimer applies.
Slam!
Albus rocked his frame in his mirth. 'You old fraud. The Raven's nothing more than a legend!'
'Like the Chamber of Secrets was, you mean?' Phineas glared angrily at him.
'You've been at the linseed oil again, haven't you?' Albus retorted. 'If you think Salazar's familiar is still guarding his house a thousand years after his departure, I'd say you were due for a new coat of varnish.'
'Gentlemen, please,' Minerva cut in.
'Slytherin's in danger,' Phineas snarled, getting to his feet. 'The Raven's return proves it, and there's only one person I trust to do something about it.'
* * *
There were few occasions these days that warranted a trip to the dungeons. Never Hermione's favourite part of the castle, she nonetheless invariably felt nostalgic for her schooldays whenever she descended the stairs, remembering times past when she and her fellow Gryffindors would huddle together with unease as they entered Slytherin territory.
Nodding briefly at the Bloody Baron, Hermione entered the Potions classroom. Other than some posters on the walls demonstrating various cutting techniques and aide-memoires stressing the lethal consequences of combining certain ingredients, it was virtually unchanged. Hermione smiled in approval at these sensible innovations as she glanced about...
'Headmistress.' Professor Burbage shot to his feet. 'Is something wrong?'
'No. Please,' Hermione said, moving towards his desk. 'There's no need to get up. It's a small matter. Phineas Black asked me to stop by.'
'Phineas...?’ Burbage frowned. 'Oh, the portrait.' He grinned from under his floppy fringe.
Hermione couldn't help but smile back. Gary Burbage was only a few years older than her; tall and good looking in a puppy-dog sort of way-and he knew it. 'Phineas may be a portrait,' she said, 'but he's given me wise counsel over the years, and I consider him a friend.'
Hermione took a deep breath. 'It's about Betty the Bloodthirsty-'
'Have you ever seen that-that thing?'
'No, I haven't.' Betty had always been away whenever she'd visited the Slytherin common room; whether she was deliberately hiding from her, Hermione didn't know. Keeping tabs on the castle's paintings was virtually impossible, anyway; she'd tried cataloguing them once, but their inhabitants wouldn't stay still long enough.
'It's the stuff of nightmares.’ Burbage ran his fingers through his hair, sighing. 'I mean, would you want a vampire about to plunge a fork into a heart-a still beating heart-hanging on your wall?'
Remembering the skull candle-holders she'd personally destroyed, Hermione shuddered. I understand, and I've every faith in you, Gary. Reforming Slytherin house was one of my main priorities, as you know. But I have to keep the old guard happy.' Smiling, she turned to leave.
'Talking of the "old guard", have you had a word with... him?'
Hermione paused, hand on the doorknob. 'If you mean Professor Snape, no, not yet.' She glanced back. 'Was there anything else?'
'That offer of dinner still stands.'
Hermione rolled her eyes. 'And the answer's still no.'
He laughed. 'You can't blame me for trying.'
* * *
Feeling heaps better for a shower, Severus towelled himself dry and padded into his bedroom. As usual, a clean robe and underwear had been laid out ready for him. He dressed hastily, feeling ravenous after his exertions and ready for dinner. Lacing up his boots, he heard someone call out his name. Severus groaned. 'What is it Phineas?'
'Snape? Where the devil are you?'
Smirking, Severus leant against the door frame and watched Phineas unsuccessfully trying to beat off a swarm of insects. ‘Here.’
'Couldn't you have gone for a nice woodland scene?' Phineas grumbled. 'A pox on these midges!'
'The Raven's just a myth.' Severus shook his head in disbelief. ‘It simply isn’t possible.’
'Well... ' Phineas shrugged. 'Granted the story's been embellished somewhat over the years-you know how Gryffindors love legends and that sort of thing-and talking of Gryffindors-’
Pinching the bridge of his nose, Severus sighed. 'What's she done now?'
'What's she done?' Phineas spluttered. 'Apart from appointing a-a non-Slytherin as Head of House, destroying the common room's décor and preventing me from keeping an eye on things, you mean?'
'There's nothing I can do about it, Phineas.'
'Just talk to her, Severus, please...'
* * *
The thing with elves, Severus thought, was that they took things to extremes. He'd casually mentioned that he enjoyed the odd glass of scotch, and within the hour, a drinks cabinet had appeared filled with bottles of some of the finest single malts ever distilled. Pouring himself a large one and sitting down, Severus waited for the inevitable. While he had no wish to get involved in school politics, it seemed he had no choice in the matter. Phineas' concerns weren't unfounded; Severus, too, was uneasy.
The flames in the grate flared green.
'Come through, Hermione. I've been expecting you.'
'I'd read about it in Hogwarts: a History, of course.' Hermione sipped her whisky.
'Naturally.'
'But I never gave it any credence.' She turned her gaze to the fire.
Severus watched the flickering light softening her features, fascinated by the flecks of copper and gold in the wild mess surrounding her head.
'Do you think there's any truth in it?'
Startled out of his musings, he nodded. 'Salazar did leave his familiar behind, that's true enough, but it wasn't immortal. Phineas thinks the bird could be a descendent.'
Hermione raised an eyebrow. 'It still all sounds pretty far-fetched to me.'
'You must understand that Phineas comes from another time-'
'You don't need to remind me.' Hermione sighed. 'I know he's not happy with my reforms, but they're necessary.' When Severus remained silent, she continued, 'It's always seemed to me that Slytherin never quite... belonged-it was always them and us. Well, no more. I want a united school, and I want Muggles to be understood and Muggleborns to be welcomed. Everyone has a contribution to make.'
'A noble sentiment and, yes, you are right,' Severus conceded. Slytherin has always been... the outcast, but an outsider simply cannot understand our traditions.'
‘Ah... traditions.’ Feeling awkward, Hermione stared into her glass. 'I’m sorry, but Professor Burbage is afraid you're undermining his authority-'
'Preposterous.' Severus snorted. 'I cannot prevent the little miscreants from approaching me, but I refuse to be inconvenienced by the trivial problems of love-sick adolescents. I always used to let Poppy deal with that sort of thing.'
Hermione giggled.
'And as every Slytherin is sworn to secrecy regarding in-house matters, I cannot for the life of me understand why he's so worried-unless, of course, he has something to hide.'
'An oath? You're not serious.'
'Oh, but I am.'
'Salazar was probably paranoid, but he didn't trust the other founders to respect his beliefs once he'd gone,' Severus explained. 'Which was why he placed the dormitories and common room underground-away from prying eyes. Originally, they were housed in their own tower-just like Gryffindor and Ravenclaw.'
'And Hufflepuff?' Hermione asked intrigued.
'Badgers will be badgers.' The corner of his mouth twitched. 'But, yes... Them and us...' He sighed. 'So, before Salazar left, the Slytherins swore an oath of allegiance, and his familiar remained as his eyes and ears waiting for his return. But, of course, that never happened...'
* * *
It had been an enjoyable evening, Severus thought, climbing into bed. The Headmistress was surprisingly convivial company; she even shared his love of good whisky. Who would have believed it? He stared at the canopy a while, contemplating their earlier discussion. She was at least aware of his misgivings-whether or not she chose to act remained to be seen. Yawning, he turned over.
In the living room, Purdy appeared and began tidying up. Two glasses? She sniffed. Headmistress Granger's perfume! Tip-toeing towards the bedroom, she stopped at the door, wondering if they'd... but all she could hear was snoring.
Disappointed, Purdy shook her head and sighed at the sleeping wizard. What was wrong with humans? Why couldn't they sort out their own affairs?
Severus stirred and muttered something unintelligible. Well aware of his nightmares, Purdy crooned a lullaby until he was sleeping peaceful again. It wasn't right; Headmaster Snape deserved to have someone to love in his life, but short of locking him in a room with Headmistress Granger... Purdy's eyes widened, wondering if she dared. She would have to consult the others, but it was, at least, a plan. Snapping her fingers, she Apparated back to the kitchens.