"He already hates her guts," Ron said without preliminaries, watching their Potions master scowl at the new DADA teacher. "He looks ready to eviscerate her."
"I think she's lovely," Hermione said.
"You're just impressed with her wand work," Ron complained, but reluctantly he admitted that their first two DADA classes had so far been pretty amazing. And he only half admitted that Professor Weir was rather attractive, for a teacher.
"Now you're scowling," Hermione observed. "Why are you so angry?"
"I'm not," Ron replied. He was having an epiphany.
Ron rubbed away the frown from his forehead thinking that perhaps Professor Snape's scowl had other reasons than evisceration. Hmm, he thought to himself. They were at that age when thirty-something seemed ancient, but to Snape, it must be nice to have someone his own age on the staff. Lupin and Lockheart had been, but he could hardly call them his peers.
"Wait a minute," Harry interrupted. "Look!"
All three pairs of eyes locked on the figures at the high table.
As Snape glared at Professor Weir, she suddenly looked up and their eyes met. His lips moved a little and her eyes widened in surprise. Her whole body stiffened and she muttered something under her breath and they saw Snape reeling back in his chair, his expression more than a little shocked. Hers radiated anger. She stood from the table and excused herself, exiting the hall in a flurry of blue robes.
"What just happened?" Hermione asked.
Luncheon in the great hall was proceeding as normal. The exchange had been so subtle that she doubted anyone had noticed anything was amiss.
"I have no idea what he did," Harry murmured, "but she sure looked angry."
"I think he attempted Legimency," Hermione whispered urgently as she recognized the signs.
"And she threw him out on his ass," Ron grinned. "Did you see the shocked look on his face?" He chuckled.
"They're gonna kill each other before the term is done," Harry predicted.
…
Hidden underneath the invisibility cloak, the trio stopped in their tracks and held their breaths. The steps they heard were coming closer. It was way past midnight, and should they be found out roaming the halls, they'd be in even more trouble than they were in already.
Two figures came around the bend, walking slowly and laboriously, one supporting the other. It took all of Hermione's self-control not to gasp when she identified Professor Weir supporting an obviously injured Severus Snape.
"Bloody nosy woman," Snape muttered.
"Shut up, Snape," she replied. "You're lucky I've been following you."
"Spying on me, you mean," he hissed.
"Pot and kettle," she mumbled.
"Stop a moment," he asked, and drew in a few shuddering breaths.
"Take your time," she answered, and her tone was startlingly soft. "He sure did a number on you."
"He's done worse," Snape admitted.
She adjusted her hold on him, so she could support him better. His arm came around her and he slumped half on her.
"If I didn't actually know you're in excruciating pain, I'd say you're taking advantage of the situation, Snape," Weir said quietly, and to the trio's shock, Snape's face broke into a grin. The sight of his crooked teeth while his mouth was curved upwards was so foreign a sight that Ron gaped like a fish.
"Perhaps a little," Snape admitted, his voice soft and silky.
Weir barked out a laugh.
"A rather sad advantage," she added dryly and his grin disappeared.
"I'm better now," he said with a grimace and they set forth once again.
In the now quiet hallway, Ron forced his mouth closed.
"Unbelievable," he muttered.
"You owe me two galleons," Hermione remarked. "They're not going to kill each other after all."
"Un-freeking-believable!"
"Pay up, Ronald!"
…
Grimauld Place was packed to the rafters. It looked to Harry like hordes of newcomers had packed into the place. He could hear at least four languages being spoken in the hallway. The portrait of Mrs. Black had screamed bloody murder for over an hour as the people poured in: reinforcements from all over Europe, and even two wizards from Canada. Hermione had been wiping at her eyes for the last half hour and Mrs. Weasley was still crying in the kitchen, overwhelmed by the response Professor Dumbledore's call for help had elicited.
Fleur was walking around with a tray, passing out refreshments.
"Danke! Merci!" they said to her as she squeezed herself along, full glasses materializing on the tray as she gave them out.
In the dining room, Charley Weasley and his friend Raluca, a Romanian witch who designed wizarding tents, were fast at work enlarging the space to fit the over fifty wizards and witches who now lined uncomfortably every space in the house.
"Ready!" Charlie called out, and the throng slowly moved towards the door. Hidden by the many bodies filing in, Harry, Ron and Hermione slipped in and looked for an inconspicuous place to hide. Ron gasped as he stepped across the threshold. The long, crowded dining room had been transformed into something that resembled the great hall at Hogwarts. A large oval table resided in the middle and over sixty chairs flanked its sides.
"Well done," Dumbledore said, patting Charlie and Raluca on the back. Harry noticed Fred and George waiving from an alcove and he dragged Ron and Hermione towards it, not daring to look around until they were all hidden inside.
"Charlie made this just for us," Fred confirmed their suspicions. "They can't see us in here."
The much larger Order of the Phoenix took their seats, Dumbledore at one end of the table, Sirius, their host, at the other. Snape walked in as the preliminaries were being said. Harry knocked Ron on the shoulder and pulled at Hermione's sweater to get their attention.
"We see him," they said in unison.
Snape glanced around the room looking for something and without any indication of recognition, he moved silently towards where Professor Weir was seated and the empty chair beside her.
"You think she held him a seat?" Hermione whispered.
"What, are they besties now?" Ron exclaimed, still upset at the two galleons he'd lost.
Snape sat down beside Weir. They both had their backs directly to the alcove. Unnoticed by the rest of the table, but clearly seen by the five teenagers hidden behind them, Snape's hand reached for Weir's and squeezed it briefly between their chairs.
"Did you see that?!" George hissed.
"Close your mouth Ronald," Hermione laughed.
"Unbelievable!"