The Lost Sock Drawer
A/N – The title of these collections of drabbles came from my best friends' 'band' and seemed perfect for this. If any Naruto fans out there have read Sh33p's Catch22 (or Cycling Through for Avatar fans)that is where I found the inspiration for this. I honestly don't believe that there are enough introspective pieces on just random things in the HP fanfiction. Either that or we can't find them. These are just the first few, more will follow.
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This is it, the big on. Wood smiled bitterly that morning when the Prophet announced perfect weather for Quidditch, among other sorts of novelties that have come to be expected with the paper. The majority of the paper laying on the table seemed to lack a serious tone- looking closer the main pieces of news were laying in the fireplace as it waiting for that cider to ignite them away.
Black robes weren't worn all that much in the Wizarding community, after all who wanted to be reminded of teachers as they were living on their lives? None the less Wood put on the drab clothing that he had become quite familiar with before a pop was heard and her disappeared out of the room.
Making his way towards the crowds of people in black as well Wood reached up to his face subconsciously adjusting something that was not there. No one noticed or cared. A mass of red hair were gathered closer towards the center of the group with McGonagall behind them looking far more composed and well…drier. He met her eyes and only a nod was given to acknowledge him, no one was speaking outright and little murmurs could be heard in the back of the crowd. A man whom Wood had never met before stood before them all and started speaking as if every word was killing him. Tuning him out and scanning the crowd many of the women were crying, quite a large number of people in Hogwarts robes were there as well. The most surprising face in the crowd must have been Snape but stranger things had happened and this was more then likely a show of spite or something.
Well she got a bit shirty with me. Wood can't say that he had many regrets in his life he though while adjusting the Quidditch gloves on both of his arms. Harry had been a teammate and quite a laugh once you accepted the dry, almost cruel sort of humor he had but this wasn't some incredible blow to himself. After several more people spoke the crowd dispersed. Wood stared on for another minute and congratulated Harry; after all he was a real team player and listened to his captain.
I didn't care if you got thrown off you're broom so long as you catch the snitch first.
Bravo Potter. Not quite Quidditch but it worked…though for some reason I almost wish McGonagall would scream at me for putting the idea into your head in the first place. Well Potter theres nothing for you to do now other then
"rest in peace Potter, just rest."
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"Severus! This is completely ridiculous. Are you sure you don't know the password?" Professors McGonagall and Snape loitered in front of the stone Gargoyle naming off every sweet they could imagine yet none of the passwords seemed to work.
The man in black could only grumble in annoyance as Minerva summoned for the third puppet. It had been made obvious that whenever Severus and Minerva were to have a meeting about the school's protection, Potter would undoubtedly be tagging along through their… "Fun little games". Twinkle Twinkle. Yes, the Headmaster did in fact Twinkle Twinkle. Potter's footsteps could be heard clamoring down the corridor like a hippogriff in the Hospital Wing (or rather, Moaning Myrtle on any given day would have been just as much of a good comparison).
"Potter, do you know the Headmaster's password?" Ah, straight foreword as ever Minerva. The brat shook his head and began spluttering out candies they've already tried and ones they've never heard of before.
The hour passed on with Professor McGonagall looking positively raving, Snape abandoning all posture and took to glaring at the stone gargoyle, and Mr. Potter still muttering sweets.
"Treacle tart. Butter balls. Lime Twists. Cockroach Clusters." A sigh
"Said already Potter." A Sneer
"OH for Merlin's sake!" and she's had it. Professor McGonagall marched over to the stone barricade and it flinched before she pulled her wand out. In one of the very few instances (Read: More then they'll ever admit) Professor Snape and Mr. Potter may have ever agreed expression wise. Not even paying the slightest bit of attention to what she'd been saying they stared in amazement at the women who had sent both of them to detention several times yell at a statue.
"- AND IF YOU THINK I WOULD NOT CHANGE YOU INTO A PIG THEN SO HELP ME IF!" None of them paid much attention to the Gryffindor that had walked up to them, happily munching on a sock. Potter took notice first.
"Ginny? Are you…eating a sock?" After her staring time had been used up, she giggled and took another bite.
"No, it's one of Fred and George's candies. Cotton Sock Shortbread. Oh, and Harry tomorrow's practice was canceled." Not wanting to spend any more time around the loons- after all, as much as she loved Harry there were one too many bludgers dancing around his head for comfort.
Snape cradled his face in his hand before using the other one to push the frantic McGonagall away. " Cotton Sock Shortbread." He managed to grit out. The Gargoyle moved and let all three of them enter.
Only after the meeting did Dumbledore discover that as much as Snape and Harry hated each other, his Sherbet lemons would always been the ones to suffer the salt sand poured on them ever so discretely.
And that Minerva lead a life of desperation- unfortunately for them all it was not a quite one.
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Whether Molly Weasley liked it or not, her little imps were going to get hurt in this war so when they took the time to research rather then in the frontal line dodging hexes. Merlin knows what they were trying to look for and it and it annoyed her that they were asking rather questionable people rather then says her or any other responsible adult.
Honestly who would feel good about their child asking Fletcher something, disappearing for the day and returning back to head quarters with a package no one else could see? And yes they were her children, all three of them. Hermione and Harry were practically in-laws by now so Molly wouldn't consider them anything less. The other responsible adults in the Order agreed that it was far better for the Trio to stay here and do research.
Hestia Jones had made the mistake of asking them how the research was going. Right now the Order had them looking for a Pureblood family who had "died" out years ago, yet the last known heir was seen spotted somewhere off in the French Country side.
"Well as you may be able to see, the man's direct lineage…"
"Not at dinner! Bugger off us for a few hours will you?"
Hermione and Ron started spluttering off at the same time, drowning each other out while Harry started speaking with Hestia,
"So is that all the information you have on him?" Hestia looked a bit miffed before answering.
"Any more information? Dugald McClivert is quite well known. Surprised you haven't learned that much about him." She snipped not liking the insult to her gathering work. As if by magic (Dear Merlin, they hoped no one used magic at Molly Weasley's kitchen table) The Trio had stopped eating and raced back upstairs and Harry rushing out of the door with a sack full of knuts and sickles. Molly, although mad waited until after dinner to scold them senseless.
Molly had waited until Harry got back to give them the telling off of a lifetime.
"WHAT IS THIS! YOU LEAVE MY DINNER FOR CHOCOLATE FROGS?" Molly's voice bellowed through the house and the few order members in the den gulped. Tonks pulled out her wand and headed upstairs- it wouldn't be right if Molly Weasley was known as She-Who-Killed the boy-who-lived.
Tonks laughed at Molly's technicolor face as they both watched Harry and Ron stuffing down chocolate frogs and reading off the cards in piles. Hermione had the decency to look guilty whilst Ron looked scared for his own life. Harry, the brave one spoke up,
"You'd be surprised the number of times this has worked out for us, you know."
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To say it plain and simply, to be frank, tactless, stark in announcement and just plain rude, Ronald Weasley hated Professor Severus Snape and took any opportunity to make sure Harry did too. He was doing his best friend a favor that he was.
It had started when Charlie and Bill came home for summer holidays the year Professor Snape started teaching at Hogwarts. They complained about him non-stop,
"The man's a bat mom! A Batty old Bat!"
"He's always taking points off of Gryffendor, it's not fair!"
"We would have one the House Cup for sure if it hadn't been for him."
So The rest of the family dreaded that potions class, even Percy believed them cause Bill was his hero then. Percy went off to school and came back, Snape was still an evil git.
But then, Fred and George went with a promise, A promise! To give the man hell. And what do they do the first day they get back?
"Man's bloody brilliant. Bit of a wanker but brilliant."
The Twins had gone sort of neutral when talking about Snape after Ron and Harry started Hogwarts and Ron was more then willing to believe that he'd done something weird to change Fred and George. That was it then, he'd changed them.
Hermione had tried to explain it to Ron during OWL revision.
"Well they have similar interests. If you think about it Fred and George probably use potions in all their pranks, like canary creams." She went back to her work. In the days before Harry arrived at number 12, he'd seen an almost smile on the git's face while talking in hushed whispers about some sort of potion with the twins. Merlin, they had changed.
After those occulumency Ron had seen Harry come back feeling a bit weird. He had shrugged it off at having his friend's mind raped and all was fine until Snape took the job of Defense teacher and once again Hermione had said it.
"Well he sounds like of like you Harry…" Or Harry sounded like him. Call Ron selfish but he wasn't going to lose his best friend to that Deatheater.
Harry already had strained ties to himself, but if he and Snape bonded, Ron would become practically useless. That friendship (which would happen over Ron's dead body) would probably a very strange and abusive one and they'd both be happy with it.
Deep down Ron felt like the bloody worst person in England after Harry told them about Dumbledore's death- that ruddy basterd would never be able to speak to Harry again. That was a promise.
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