3: A Routine Broken
Life with Snape was rather dull. The man got up around eight, didn't fully wake up until his second cuppa, and read the paper. Harry pecked at bird seed while Snape tucked away a bowl of plain cream of farina. Once breakfast was over Snape grabbed some potions journals and headed into his private laboratory. He mixed some simple potions, including some for the infirmary, while reading about the latest theories. A bell went off in the lab and Snape stopped for a quick lunch, and then settled down behind his desk to do paperwork while that morning's experiments simmered. Around four the paperwork was put away and the more volatile ingredients taken out. Dinner appeared on a sideboard in the lab, and was ignored for hours. The experimentation went on into the night, only stopping when Snape ran out of steam. The thin man had a short shower and fell into bed, asleep before his head hit the pillow.
Harry/Imber found himself fascinated with the cauldrons of bubbling ingredients, perching on Snape's shoulder to read the potion journals. It occurred to Imber that he had never actually witnessed Snape brew a potion before, only bark out instructions and belittle the Gryffindors. Snape appeared to enjoy the difficult task of recreating the experiments, and it was the first time Imber had even heard of the abrasive man appearing happy. On the second day Imber made a point to squawk when the dinner arrived until Snape looked over.
"It can't be eight already." Snape glanced over at an old clock that hung on the wall near his desk. "I'll eat once I finish this up." After another half hour Imber flew over to Snape's shoulder and clocked him on the back of the head. The potions master had been about to start a new cauldron.
"What? Oh, dinner. I suppose this can wait." The man seemed a little put out about having to stop to do something as boring as eating before his body protested its lack of nourishment. Snape turned to Imber. "It's Sunday tomorrow, I'll have to clean things up when I'm done. No potions on Sundays." Again, the man seemed almost sad about the self-imposed rule. "I'll need to do something with you. No matter what you find interesting while I am making potions, I doubt you will stare with rapt attention as I relax." Imber didn't know what Snape was talking about. He seemed perfectly relaxed as he busied about his work, the picture of efficiency and contentment.
The first deviation was when Snape came out of the loo that night he did not set his alarm. 'Imber' settled onto the perch Snape placed on a side table when he had first arrived and went to sleep. Imber woke at the crack of dawn, as usual, but Snape didn't stir. He noticed the only window was ajar, and took the opportunity to leave.
Imber circled around the castle, angling toward the library. He needed to do his homework sometime this summer, and to do that he would need books. During the height of the Twin's prank war against Umbrage, a few windows in the library had been badly damaged when a large dragon shaped firework hit Madam Prince's extra shielding. Since some of the stonework had been damaged by the wild magic the reaction unleashed, a simple 'Reparo' would not work. Whoever tried to fix it would have to first wait for the residual magic to dissipate, and then re-sculpt the stone. If luck was on his side, Imber could get in for the next few weeks.
When Imber turned the last corner around a tower he smiled. A small but manageable hole was still in the sill of the center windows. It was shielded so bugs and rain could not get in, but the temporary magical screen was easy enough to push through. It closed behind him and Imber surveyed the large room. Ten minutes later Imber decided there was no alarm set to alert anyone if the small hole was breeched. Imber turned back into Harry and realized he was still carrying the sack he had made out of Dudley's old shirt. It must have transfigured with him, along with his clothes.
I won't be doing the assignments from memory at least. Harry settled down at a desk and began to work.
In the Dungeons, Severus Snape slowly sat up. He stretched, looking at the softly ticking clock on his nightstand. Eleven o'clock on the dot, the same as every Sunday. The thin man sat there for a few moments, enjoying the small luxury of being in bed so late in the day. I wonder where Imber is. Snape dressed in one of his better robes and went over to the small round table in the corner of the main room. He hit a small bell to signal the house elves. His customary Sunday breakfast popped into being a moment later. Snape tucked in to two eggs, toast, butter, a small pot of tea, and two small pancakes.
Imber flew in just as Snape polished off the eggs. The bird made a distressed warble and promptly turned away from the table. Severus looked at the odd bird for a few moments before returning to his meal.
Perhaps it was the eggs. Snape thought to himself. If I saw a bird eating a baby human I would be rather distressed myself.
I can't believe I almost fell off this perch! Imber shook his head, embarrassed at the near miss. Leaving my things in that study room must have changed my center of gravity. Once Imber pieced together his tattered pride, he perched on the edge of the table. He waited until Snape cut the pancakes into small enough pieces, and he made his move.
"Your food is in the dish." Snape pointed to the small bronze dish next to Imber's perch. It was full of seeds and dried fruit, but couldn't come close to the sticky sweet taste of hot pancakes with syrup and butter. Imber just looked up at the skinny man with wide, sorrow filled eyes. Snape grumbled and continued eating, and Imber stole two other slices of pancake. Finally Snape just ordered another pancake and let Imber have half of it.
After breakfast Snape walked over to the large bookshelves and made a few selections. Two Dark Arts books, one novel, and a little red book Imber couldn't identify were stacked next to the large leather chair.
"I do not plan on moving from this chair very much for the remainder of the day. Go do whatever wild birds do when left alone." Snape settled down into the comfy chair.
Imber busied himself by poking around the books a little. The titles weren't all that surprising. One shelf had Defense Against Dark arts or Dark Arts books on it. Above that shelf were novels, mostly mystery and romance. The lower two shelves were stuffed with potion books. On a pedestal was an open book with many bookmarks sticking out of it. Imber perched on the edge and peered at the thick volume.
"Those bookmarks are for my first through third year lesson plans, touch them and I will find a way to cause you considerable discomfort." Snape hadn't even looked up from the old volume in his hands when he spoke.
Imber looked down at the heavily used teacher's book. It was open to a potion he recognized from second year. He noticed large portions of the header were marked with a thin red X. It included an exceptionally dry explanation of how the different ingredients reacted and why the potion worked as it did. It was the same style and quality of Professor Binn's History lectures, but Imber was of two minds about its elimination. On the one hand it would be torture to hear that read aloud, and he was glad Professor Snape hadn't forced the class to endure it. On the other, it explained vital information that gave a meaning to every action listed in the procedure of brewing the potion. Then again, Professor Snape is highly gifted in logical thought. To him the passage, which to Imber was tedious but worthwhile, might simply be redundant and migraine-inducing.
Unfortunately, without the background information even the most logical person could get lost in the procedure. It occurred to Imber that the only students who did exceptionally well in professor Snape's class fell into two categories: those with photographic memories and those who read a lot. There were a few exceptions, but they were mostly very wealthy. Malfoy could certainly afford a tutor, either so he could learn the basics before going to Hogwarts or during the holidays. Imber knew the Weasleys, like most magical families, had been taught reading and mathematics by their mother. It made sense that very basic magic could be taught as well. Imber carefully turned the page, making sure the yellow bookmark remained in place.
The explanations didn't get any more exciting, but after a half hour Imber began to predict the reactions before reading them. These were very simple potions after all, and he did know some of it already. He had recognized some patterns in class and remembered others he had read about in his student textbook, but the information was never so complete. Hermione would give her right arm to read this. She is just anal enough to love this.
"Imber, are you reading that book?" Snape was thoroughly confused, and it showed. Imber chirped and nodded, pointing a feather at the crossed out paragraphs above a potion not marked for use in class. "You can read?"
No, I just like to look at the pretty scribbles and slashes you put in the margin. Imber thought sarcastically as he turned back to the book, following his place with his feather to show where he was in the text. Snape watched him a few moments before the new information sunk in.
"You can't be enjoying that idiotic blathering. I've been trying to get the school board to approve a better teacher's text for years. They say the author pays good attention to detail, I say it's redundant. Why not describe the exact way candlelight flickers off powered toad skin? It isn't necessary." Snape seemed to enjoy the small tirade. "If you wish to bore yourself to death, be my guest. Just remember that I gave you ample warning."
Imber spent the next week glued to Snape, fighting to make sense of the many experiments he was watching. When it wasn't practical to stay on the man's shoulder he watched from the rafters or read over the scribbled notes, ancient tomes, and potion journals littering the laboratory. Professor McGonagall had promised Harry a seat in Advanced Potions, but that didn't mean he deserved it. If he got into the class without the necessary grade Professor Snape would be well within his rights to toss Harry out if he couldn't perform to the class's standards.
To Imber's great surprise, potions became quite interesting when Snape wasn't barking out orders. The potion master even started mumbling to Imber while they were in the lab. He wasn't teaching per se, just a stream of consciousness rationalization for whatever the man did. The deep, dulcet tones rose and fell with the man's mood. It provided a great deal of information quickly, if not always logically. Snape was apparently capable of great leaps of thought, often jumping back and forth between two separate trains of thought until they either merged or one failed to prove useful.
Imber now knew why the man never brewed anything during class. Snape forgot about everything while he was working, focusing all his energy on what he was doing. He could barely remember to eat and drink, controlling a class would be out of the question.
Harry returned to his human form Sunday morning to continue his homework. He put off the potion assignments, since he would know much more about the subject in another week or two. It was odd how easily he fit into Snape's daily life. The man wasn't exactly outgoing and social, and it stung a bit when Harry thought of how right some of the more vicious things said about his professor were. He was an oily, friendless man who taught potions, spied for the order of the phoenix, and spent days on end without leaving his chambers. He also wondered what would happen when and if Snape was called by the Dark Lord.
When he returned he found that Snape had ordered an extra plate with two pancakes topped with strawberry jam and placed it on the opposite side of the small round table. With an appreciative chirp Imber tucked in.
"Albus came by while you were outside. It appears we are being evicted for the afternoon so that the house elves can track a colony of mice that recently appeared. They haven't been able to find their nests with small spells, so the entire castle will be scanned in four overlapping sections. The residual effects from the magic won't wear off until late in the evening. They have already begun to move the contents of my storeroom into the Slytherin Locker room in the Quidditch stadium, since the magical blast would ruin most of my supplies." Snape took a sip of his tea. "I'm running low on a few ingredients anyway, and I need to return a few books to the library in Hogsmeade."
Imber chirped and snapped up another sticky pancake slice. Forced from his lair, the rare Snape-vole searches for a similar place to reside until the danger passes; often finding shelter in apothecaries and libraries. Imber giggled, the bubbly birdsong startling his companion.
"I suppose a bird would be happy for a change in routine that involves going outside for the day." Snape commented, finishing his eggs. A half hour later Snape packed a small bag of books he needed to return and some bird food. Imber lifted off Snape's shoulder when they reached the main doors of the castle, soaring up to turn a few circles around the lake while his companion walked to the gate.
Imber dove down when he saw Snape locking the gate behind him. Snape raised his arm for Imber to land on, but that put the meter long tail on the wrong side of Snape's thin frame. Imber spent a few minutes facing behind them before the professor realized he had trapped the silky feathers under his armpit.
"Squawk at me or something next time I do that, we look ridiculous." He snapped, gently untangling the tail. "If you wish to watch my back, stay in the air." Imber fanned his tail, creating a right angle wedge of green edged in silver across Snape's right side. It resembled the flashy capes Gilderoy Lockhart often wore pulled to one side.
"Message received, we could look more ridiculous if we try. All I need is a peacock embroidered on the other shoulder." Imber snapped his tail against Snape's arm and let out a toot. "I did not wish to imply I would rather have a peacock following me around, merely that you are impressive enough with your tail folded, and I have no desire to make a spectacle of myself."
I meant 'I agree' not 'I'm offended.' Imber shook his head, but couldn't think of any way of correctly communicating his meaning. Snape acknowledged that he had misinterpreted the gesture.
They arrived in Hogsmeade without further incident and headed directly to the library. Imber perched on the 'no pets' sign as Snape walked in. It was not surprising that Snape's only mirror was small and had been hexed into silence. It functioned as the door to a medicine cabinet over the bathroom sink. It was far enough above the basin so Snape could see if he had toothpaste on his face, and small enough that that was all he would see. This meant it was too high for Harry or Imber to see much of anything at all, since it was very difficult to maneuver in the tiny room as a bird. He could get a good look at his tail and feet, but his neck wasn't long enough to see much of his body. The library had mirrored windows on some of the private reading rooms, so he winged his way onto the sill of the closest one.
It was a little surprising, even after the descriptions he heard. He saw a bright white crest on his forehead, obviously the animagus form of his curse scar. It stuck up about a centimeter right between his eyes, which retained their neon green color. His body was black as pitch, but the underside of his wings was a deep emerald. He was roughly the shape of a hawk. The tail could be fanned out into a thin screen about a meter long strait back with rounded sides a half meter long, forming a pear shape. It didn't have 'eyes' like a peacock tail, just a glint of silver at the edge. His claws resembled brushed steel hooks at the end of his black four-toed feet. All his feathers were glossy enough to shine in the sunlight.
Imber returned to his perch on the sign, shocked. He had thought he was a little duller looking, and the crest was a bit of a surprise. Harry had never considered himself pretty, but it was clear Imber was a knockout. I wonder if it's odd I refer to my animagus form by name even in my head. The marauders gave their forms names, but they weren't working under normal conditions. He snorted. Not that I'm living under normal conditions either. Snape emerged from the library and Imber returned to his shoulder. I did have to learn to answer to my new name. I suppose it's easier to name my bird body on some level. Ugh, I don't know why I bother; I don't know the first thing about psychology!
They entered the apothecary while Imber was still deep in thought about his self-induced identity crisis. He was glad to be shocked out of that line of thought when the shopkeeper gasped and started talking rapidly.
"I don't believe it, where did you find him Severus? He is magnificent! Do you get many tears or just feathers so far? I told you, didn't I? You were due for some good luck for a change. Could I see him? Or is it a girl?" The witch had silver hair and brown eyes behind very thick glasses.
"His name is Imber, and I didn't find him anywhere. He followed me home. I'm not sure if he would let you handle him, and I'm quite sure I couldn't force him if he didn't want to." Snape cut off the rambling old woman and raised his right arm. "Climb down to Mrs. Piedmont's level if you want to be petted and fawned over, Imber."
Imber looked at the ecstatic old woman for a few moments, and then cautiously inched sideways down the tall man's arm. The shopkeeper attempted to pick him up, but Imber grabbed onto Snape's sleeve with his feet, mindful of his claws on the thin summer robes. After a second tug, the professor spoke up.
"I don't think Imber has any intention of moving, and he does have rather sharp claws. He hasn't cut me yet, but if you keep pulling on him I am quite sure I will have six rather deep gashes in my forearm."
"He is a lovely bird." Mrs. Piedmont seemed a little disappointed, but started petting and preening the increasingly uncomfortable bird. When he had enough he flew around her in a double loop before landing on Snape's left shoulder. "A bit on the shy side, but that is their nature I suppose. Now Severus, I'm sure you didn't come here to show off your new pet. What do you need?" Snape gave her a long list, all of which was packed into the bag along with the books.
"Three-thirty, and the castle won't be ready for habitation until ten." Snape mumbled in the same tone he used in the laboratory.
"What was that?" The crotchety woman asked.
"Just talking to Imber, the castle is being fumigated by the house elves. Professors Dumbledore, Trelawney, Firenze, and I were required to vacate for the duration."
"You were speaking to your pet bird. Have you been working with any particularly pungent potions lately? I believe the fumes may have gotten to you."
Are you implying that I am a bird-brain? Imber squawked in indignation, glaring at the myopic shopkeeper. I'm no ordinary bird and I can prove it too! He hopped down to the counter and grabbed the quill in his beak. With great effort he scratched some very warped words in the margin of her ledger.
"Well I'll be! I'm not sure if I should be amazed or insulted."
"I had no idea his vocabulary was so wide-ranging." The acerbic professor offered. "I wonder what the greater issue is: the implication that I'd gone around the twist or that he wasn't capable of understanding us."
"He seems rather adamant about both mistakes. I must agree with his point though, you did ask him to climb down your arm if he wanted to be fawned over and it was plain he understood you."
"A simple correction spell should remove it from your books."
"Why would I want to remove it? That is my proof that I was ripped up one side and down the other by a phoenix. It isn't often I get my intelligence insulted by an avian. This is going in my scrapbook, regardless of the quality of the handwriting, or should I say beak-writing?" The ancient lady giggled in a very disturbing manner as the odd pair left the apothecary.
Snape wandered around Hogsmeade for a while, wandering into shops at random. Snape mumbled sarcastic comments about the quality or price of various things. It was clear that the thin man didn't have a great deal of money, though it was certainly enough for him to live comfortably. He saved up and bought high quality things that would last for years rather than cheap things he would have to replace quickly, which explained why he didn't look poor. Snape relied heavily on the allowance he was given as Hogwarts Potion Master to pay for his experimentation, and the house elves for food.
Those who knew Snape worked for the order seemed to agree that the man worked at Hogwarts to help him with his duties as a spy, since he didn't seem to like teaching that much. He seemed to fit in with Malfoy's crowd of people, so others wondered why he accepted a teacher's salary. Imber now realized that no other job would allow Snape to work on so many potion experiments without bankrupting him.
Around six they had done all the window shopping there was to do. After freeing Imber from another stunned bird enthusiast, Snape walked to the edge of town and had Imber move down to his forearm.
"I'm not certain I can apparate with you on my shoulder without splinching one or both of us. I will have to hold my arm close to my chest, or I might leave that behind instead of you." It took Imber three seconds to process that sentence, and he didn't like the implications at all. He had seen the twins apparate with arms spread wide in an attempt to scare someone with their sudden appearance. Most wizards took a decent chunk of air with them; the sudden displacement of that air is what caused the pop. The quiet little note Snape made, coupled with his admission that anything more than a few centimeters away would be left behind, sent a spark of fear through Imber.
"Nap." Imber squawked, bending over to lift his tail and tuck it into Snape's outer robes. He then flattened himself against his professor, pressing his large wings forward a little like a hug.
"I am not that bad at it." Snape argued, but helped tuck in the tail anyway. "I simply am not naturally talented at charms." The argument would be more convincing if the thin man hadn't hugged Imber closer. With a soft pop the two disappeared.
"I've been putting this off, but I suppose it has to be done." Snape continued when they appeared. Imber was surprised to see that they were outside The Burrow. Imber took off, soaring up to perch on the lowest of the crooked roofs. The door opened as the odd pair approached.
"Professor, thank heaven you came! We've tried everything, but it just won't budge." Mrs. Weasley sounded a little tired, but still managed to be cheerful. "I got a good look at the spice rack, so I can tell you what is in it, but not the amounts."
"Just take me to the mess; I'm sure there is a simple solution to whatever went wrong." Imber flew around the outside of the house as Snape followed Mrs. Weasley to the kitchen. Large patches of the walls were covered in a hard purple substance.
" . . .even a hammer and chisel won't take it off!" Mrs. Weasley finished as Imber settled on a purple-dotted window sill.
"At least it is inert. How long did it take to harden?" Snape was examining a particularly thick deposit on the far wall.
"About two hours. Before then we had been mopping it up the Muggle way."
"Is there a small piece anywhere that isn't attached to a wall or floor I could use for testing?" Mrs. Weasley was already shaking her head.
"I'd finished washing all the pots and things before it started hardening. All that is left are the walls, some of the floor, and the ceiling." Imber hopped off the sill and glided to a thick puddle in one corner. It reminded Imber of the foam used in insulation in Muggle homes, a type of plastic that filled in the cracks around windows. It got rock hard, but was usually yellowish. The gunk stuck to the Weasley's kitchen was a violent purple. Charlie walked into the kitchen and started apologizing immediately.
"I'm so sorry; I don't know what to say! I've never even heard of Alison getting drunk before, but her parents just told me she's been through two alcoholism programs in the last five years. I can't believe she would show up drunk." The muscular redhead leaned back against the purple coated doorframe.
"This Alison upturned the spice rack that held the family's potion stores over the stove, correct?" Snape was attempting to scratch off a sample without any luck.
"Yes." Mrs. Weasley snapped. "It ruined the stew and the explosion took out half the furniture. She will not be coming over for dinner again."
"Great Merlin, it's a Storm Phoenix!" Charlie had looked down at the corner where Imber was standing on the thick purple mess.
"Imber, tired of flying already, or is something amiss?" Imber shook his head at Snape's raised eyebrow, and made a retching sound. Snape was at his side in a moment. "You didn't do something as stupid as swallowing some of this atrocity, did you." It was Imber's turn to look at the thin man inquiringly.
"I think it was a comment on the current décor, not that I disagree in the slightest." Mrs. Weasley bustled about, showing her continued annoyance. Imber nodded to show she was right, and the professor backed away. When Imber went to follow, one of his inner claws stuck into the purple potion. He screeched in panic, instinct causing him to lash out with his claws. His foot was now well and fully stuck in the odd potion. Snape began working at it with a small knife, but Imber didn't calm down until Snape's other hand came up to pet him gently.
"Steady, Imber, I've almost got it. It would appear that the potion has only hardened on the outside. Anything sufficiently strong can cut into it and expose the liquid interior, the way Imber's claws have. The first few centimeters are semisolid, and exceptionally sticky." The sunny sky outside was quickly being replaced with thick thunderclouds, but the three human occupants didn't notice until a bolt of lightning landed right outside the window. In the blink of an eye all three had jumped across the room.
"Mum, is everything alright in here?" Ron's voice cut through the deadly silence. "That storm came out of nowhere!"
"Ron! Ginny! Get back. We have an angry storm phoenix in the house, and it's summoned a storm." Imber wasn't feeling very well, and without Snape holding him up he was beginning to sink. The corner didn't have enough room to flap properly, and he called out again.
"Stop flapping about, you are making it worse!" Snape roared, seizing the sticky bird under the wings and pulling him out of the goop. As soon as he was clear, Imber twisted out of Snape's grip and made a bee line for the window. Rain was pouring down in buckets now, but Imber still managed to soar up to the clouds. After a few minutes of circling, Imber floated down to the windowsill.
"I have some dragon claw tools, but we use them for performing surgery on the dragons. If we could be sure about getting this stuff off the tools when we are done, I could use them."
"Twerp chirr swap coo." Imber happily babbled out a song from his perch on the windowsill. Thunder rolled in the distance as he lifted his claw for inspection. No trace of the smelly purple substance remained, but the skin was irritated and he felt very tired. He let out a long birdie yawn and flew over to Snape's shoulder.
"I shudder to think of the volume of water involved, but Imber appears to have found a solution. In liquid form, this atrocity can be cleaned up with simple rainwater. I would suggest a water-tight charm be placed on all the walls, doors, and floor. We could then use an umbrella charm to direct the rain into the kitchen. First we need to remove anything you don't want waterlogged."
Ginny, Ron, Fred, George, Charlie, Molly, and Snape quickly stripped down the kitchen. Snape busied himself collecting samples from the puddle Imber cracked as the charms were applied to the wood framing of the house. Imber was dozing lightly throughout the flurry of activity, enjoying the warm softness on Snape's shoulder. When the assembled Weasleys and Snape walked outside the sun was starting to peak through the clouds.
"Imber, do you think you could bring back some of the rain?" Snape lifted the sleepy bird from his shoulder. Imber opened his green eyes and swished his tail a little bit. The sun slipped back behind a cloud, but the light rain didn't get any heavier.
I'm so sleepy, and I'm not sure how I did it in the first place. One panicked tantrum a day, please. Snape cradled him, petting the tired bird softly.
"It appears Imber has had enough excitement for today."
"Couldn't he just keep it going like it is now? We don't need a drenching, just steady going for a little while." Fred and George asked.
"He is only a baby." Snape grumbled. "One in need of a nap, it appears." Imber sighed and snuggled into Snape's robes.
"How long have you had him, professor?" Charlie was talking now.
"A little over two weeks, and he isn't much older than that according to the headmaster." Snape walked back inside, conjuring up a pillow and blanket.
"Is everything alright?" Mrs. Weasley hovered over them like a mother hen.
"He is too warm, it isn't normal. Imber likes to take baths in near boiling water, but even right out of the cauldron he isn't warm to the touch."
"Ginny, go fill a bowl with cold water from the tap upstairs." Mrs. Weasley helped Snape fashion a nest out of the green blanket and pillow on the living room table.
"Are you sure that stuff was inert?" Charlie wondered.
"Absolutely, the irritation on his claw is from being ripped out of it so suddenly. Drat, it's only six-forty-five. The castle won't be habitable for another three hours and fifteen minutes at least."
"What do you mean?" Mrs. Weasley asked.
"The house elves are fumigating. They found some mice and couldn't trace them back to their nests for whatever reason. The magical residue won't clear out until ten tonight, and Albus is the only one I know of who qualified to tell me what to do with Imber."
"Nap." Imber insisted. "Cheep eee nap."
"Imber seems to think he needs a nap, so we should just leave him alone." Ron said in a rare flash of insight. "He even said 'Snape, I nap.' It doesn't get much clearer from a bird." Imber meant to nod in agreement, but yawned instead.
"I have the water, Mum."
"Set it down on the table next to him. If he has a fever he should drink something." Imber just stuck his head under his wing and went to sleep.
At seven thirty Arthur Weasley came home to see Professor Snape asleep sitting up in a chair near the fireplace, head propped up by a long fingered hand. A bird was bundled up on the coffee table with a dish of water nearby. Having lived through fathering seven children he was used to coming home to strange sights, but this was definitely in the top ten. He went to enter the kitchen, but was greeted by a wall of water held up by magic two meters tall.
"Honey?" Arthur called out uncertainly. "Why is the kitchen under water?"
"Professor Snape thinks soaking the purple mess will soften it up again." Arthur followed the sound into their bedroom where Molly was pairing socks. "He has a new Storm Phoenix that got caught in a bit of it and came down with a fever. We found out it could be washed away when the little dear conjured up a thunderstorm. Lightning took out the pansies in the little garden under the window, and nearly gave us all heart attacks." Molly had removed Arthur's coat and hat during the explanation. "It's only a baby phoenix, not even a month old. Fell right asleep, and so did Professor Snape once we left him alone a few minutes. I wonder what Albus has him doing that would make him sleepy enough to drop off in a chair that way."
"We are all working hard these days, and from what I hear Professor Snape has a nearly unbreakable rule that Sundays are for relaxing. I was sure he wouldn't come until Monday."
"Woo" Imber called as he landed on a side table.
"Are you up and about already, Imber?" Molly gave him a good looking over. "You look fine to me, but I don't know anything about little birds."
"He hardly seems little." Imber puffed up and crooned again.
"For a phoenix he is very young, not more than a month." Imber glared at her and puffed up again, this time fanning out his tail as well. "Isn't he adorable?"
"Cree!" Imber flew back to Snape, landing on the man's head. The extra weight caused his hand to slip, and Snape woke up immediately.
"I see you are doing better. Shall we go for dinner?" Snape stretched, getting out the kinks that came from sleeping in a chair.
"Why don't you stay? The kitchen is still soaking, but we have a grill out back. I put some hamburgers on a few minutes ago, and we have a few spare ribs." Molly was cheerful as always, but there were other Weasleys to consider. The twins and Ron had just come down the stairs. Fred and George looked like they were calculating the havoc they could cause while testing new products and Ron seemed quite put out.
"No, thank you, I have other plans." Snape made his exit and headed for the apparation point. Imber assumed the position for apparation, and they left before any of Fred and George's plans could be realized.
EDIT: Word choice issues in some places, fixed an inconsistancy with Snape's second Sunday breakfast. Removed the word 'aristocratic' and replaced it with 'acerbic' when describing Professor Snape. It makes no sence given Half Blood Prince cannon. Yeah, I'm making him poorer. I also solved the question 'Where is george?' in the second half.
