Title:  Looking for Magic in All the Right Places

Chapter One: Could This Summer Be Even Better?

Genres: Humour, Romance. This was my response to 'Lama's' WIKTT Summer School Challenge.  To see complete rules, go to 'When I Kissed the Teacher' Fanfic Files, Challenges, Completed Challenges.

Rating: PG-13

Warning: Occasional poetry!

Disclaimer: I've borrowed almost everything. All concepts and characters in this story except my own are the property of J.K. Rowling, and most of the poems I've included are adapted from actual works. I intend no disrespect or diminishment by these adaptations. Nothing here will ever emerge from the SS-HG-ship haven, and I will never make a profit from any of it.

Some chapters have Author's Notes for acknowledgements when needed.

Lama's Challenge Premise:  In a post-Voldemort world, the magic that held the wizarding world together is failing, and disgruntled Hogwarts students must take a summer crash-course in Muggle science and culture.  My take on the challenge:  Some forms of ancient magic still exist. It takes a bit of chemistry between Hermione and Snape and a dose of Muggle poetry to invoke it.

Chapter One: Could This Summer Be Even Better?

Albus Dumbledore, standing up at his place at Hogwarts' head table and surveying the fresh-faced troops of seventh-year students, looked more tired and drawn than Hermione had ever before seen him. Diminished. In fact, the Great Hall itself looked curiously small and gloomy with only Hogwarts' senior students in attendance and no magic giving the Hall its larger-than-life glamour. For the first time in seven years, Hermione could see the true ceiling instead of a fantastic projection of the sky. Stone, grey and slightly cobwebby, like the ceiling of a medieval church. Ordinary. Boring.

Without the magic permeating the very bones of Hogwarts, imbuing every chamber, stairway, and portrait with mystique, nothing remained but a very large and draughty building. And no magic to keep out the damp cold, either, Hermione thought sourly, burying her hands inside the sleeves of her robe to keep them warm.

'Students, it's my pleasure to welcome you to Hogwarts' summer school for emergency university preparation,' rasped Dumbledore, sounding anything but pleased. Hermione had to strain to hear him. 'As I'm sure you're all aware, the destruction of Voldemort late last year began a chain of events whose cause is unknown, but whose effects are unravelling the very fabric of the magical realm. Almost all magic has begun to disappear. You've already noticed your wands are becoming useless, and many spells are not working at all. Even most potions are being affected.'

The black-robed senior faculty members lined up on each side of their Headmaster looked grave, and the seventh years started muttering.

'Harry. . .did You-Know-Who mention anything about this before you blasted him to shreds?' murmured Ron.

'I had no idea. And so what? Was I supposed to--you know--not blast him?'

'No, it's okay Harry. Blasting Voldemort was absolutely the right thing to do,' said Ron hastily.

'Yeah, well--I had no choice, did I? It was my destiny, wasn't it?'

'Shut up you two,' said Hermione in a sharp whisper.

Dumbledore held up a thin, veined hand and the Hall gradually quieted. 'Your previous magical training will no longer serve you. Your only hope of making your way in the world--or even surviving--is to learn about and adapt to Muggle ways as soon as possible.'

Draco shot Hermione a dirty look. 'Oooh, does this mean Ms. Mudblood's going to tutor us, then?'

'In your unspeakable dreams, Malfoy,' hissed Hermione.

'Senior faculty have spent the past several months upgrading their skills and drawing on the expertise of distinguished Muggles, some of whom have graciously agreed to serve as faculty-in-residence here over the summer. In collaboration with these guests, the faculty have created an intensive program of summer studies designed to help you prepare for entry into Muggle universities--or at the very least, for a life in which you can no longer depend on magic.'

He sat back down wearily. Looking grim, McGonagall, Flitwick, Sprout, Vector, Snape, and Lupin circulated course schedules and dismissed the seventh years who, still not entirely sure what had hit them, milled around the Hall for a while. Eventually they gathered into their old House groupings to read over their materials.

'Well,' said Ron. 'Could be worse. Vector for Maths. Sprout for Biology. And looks like McGonagall's taking over History.'

'Hang about,' said Harry. 'Monday morning, first thing.' His finger pointed. Several pairs of eyes followed.

'Oh, bloody hell!' Ron moaned. 'Snape! Should've known! What's he teaching?'

'Chemistry of course,' said Hermione briskly. 'Actually, I'd better go. I have to start working on a proposal for him.'

'A proposal? For Snape?' Ron snorted with laughter, and even Harry raised his eyebrows, grinning.

'Oh sod off, you lot,' Hermione snapped, but then, looking at her two best friends, she couldn't suppress a slight smile. 'I need him to supervise me for an Honours chemistry project,' she added. 'I won't have much of a chance of getting into the Cambridge Honours programme otherwise.'

'You're going to work side-by-side with the Greasy Git? Ugh. Better you than me,' said Ron cheerfully.

'Right. Well, I'm sure I'll survive the experience. See you later, boys.' Slinging her huge bagful of books onto her shoulder, Hermione staggered out of the Great Hall.

'She seems a bit eager to cosy up to the Snapester,' Ron said, looking after her.

'You think?' said Harry absently, still reading his schedule. Then he clapped Ron's shoulder. 'Hey. Football to replace Quidditch.'

'If it doesn't involve flying, I'm not interested,' Ron grumbled.

'Someone named Beckham's coaching,' said Harry. 'Who is this bloke? Anyone know?'

'Beckham?' said Dean. 'Oh yeah. I've heard about him. Big player in the Muggle world. Got kicked off his team, though. Bonked his lovely assistant and broke his wife's heart.'

Lavender and Parvati exchanged intrigued looks. 'I must introduce myself,' said Lavender.

Padma, Parvati's twin, had drifted over from the Ravenclaw group. 'Sean McCourt and Maxine Jones are coming here too,' she said.

'Who are they?' said Ron, looking annoyed. Padma glared back at him. She'd never quite forgiven Ron for dumping him at their fourth-year Yule Ball.

'He's an Irish novelist and she's an English-American poet,' she said in that special tone parents use for very stupid children. 'They've both won tons of awards. They must be coming to team-teach the Muggle literature class.'

'What's--literature?' said Lavender.

'Stories and poetry,' said Padma. 'I started reading some of it a year or two ago. Some of it's quite interesting. Lots of romance and violence.'

'Really?' Lavender perked up.

'She only likes that stuff because her boyfriend fancies himself a poet,' said Parvati. 'They spend hours reading together.'

'Ugh, Padma' said Lavender. 'If that's all you and your boyfriend can think of to do together, then you and I need to have a serious talk.'

'So. . .' said Ron, sighing. 'Chemistry with Snape, literature with two unknown Muggles, sports involving way too much exertion--can anyone think how this wonderful summer could be even better?'

'Nothing personal, Harry,' muttered Neville, 'But if I'd known offing old You-Know-Who would condemn us to four months of summer school from hell, I might have had second thoughts about joining the D.A.'

'Stuff it, Nev,' The Boy Who Lived But Lately Wished He Could Drop Off the Face of the Earth replied gloomily.

Author's Note:

I know Beckham's slightly anachronistic!  But I can't resist sending him to Hogwarts anyway.