These characters and their setting are the property of J. Rowling and her associates and affiliates.
Chapter 10: Forward into Battle
On the morning of the next Competition, the team assembled in the practice room clad in their matching black warm-up suits, wigs carefully sewn on, bags in hand. Professor Snape joined them exactly on time, immaculate in his Muggle disguise.
Hermione was suddenly struck by his appearance. His hawk-nosed face looked so different without its obscuring curtain of greasy black hair, and he looked far less threatening without those billowing black robes. She was surprisingly conscious of the fact that he wasn't actually ugly as everyone jokingly said. Not at all. He was homely, yes, but in a fascinatingly way. She wondered if anyone else had ever noticed that, or if they had, if they had told him so... The professor must have caught her gazing at him with prolonged intentness because he turned and spoke to her sharply.
"Miss Granger. Which of the girls secured your wig?"
Hermione hesitated.
"I did, sir," Pamela Crowell volunteered.
Snape glided over to stare down at her intimidatingly. "If it comes loose, you will have detention," he purred softly. "I have a large vat of ageing newt eyes that should have reached just the right degree of ripeness by now. It will be your job to liquify them. The process takes hours..."
"Yes sir!" The Ravenclaw sixth year looked a little green.
"Stop smirking, Miss Thornton. It will be your job next tournament. By that time the dragon pus will need rendering for fermentation..."
All of the Slytherins schooled their features carefully.
The professor gazed at them all for a few seconds in his usual stern gravity. The entire team came to attention.
"As we prepare again to enter Muggle territory, I want all of you to remember who we are and what we stand for. We are wizard folk, mages, and we represent Hogwarts, the best wizarding school in the world. Ours is a noble tradition." He paused to let his obsidian eyes bore into each of them.
"There is no reason, no reason whatsoever, to be intimidated by Muggles-- no matter how many there are or how bizarrely they are behaving. WE are superior and every Muggle team we encounter will learn to respect us. We are going into battle today, and we are going to WIN."
"You are NOT the same team you were two weeks ago. You have become strong and disciplined, and as such you have an advantage. Those who have seen you before will underestimate you, and will not expect the performance you will deliver today. They will be complacent and off their guard. The teams who perform before you may not try as hard. Those who come after you may falter from nerves. Exploit this and we shall finish in the top three, if not the number one spot! None of those Muggles will ever sneer at us again!"
The girls looked at each other. Muggles had sneered at them? No wonder Snape had worked them so hard! The Slytherins stood up straighter and flashed flinty, determined looks at their Head of House. No one sneered at Hogwarts... NO ONE! Slytherin honor was at stake...
"We're going to win, sir!" said Hermione quietly.
"Good," he said with a curt nod. "Let's go!" and he began to lead the team out.
"Oh, excuse me, Professor!" Hermione interrupted, and Snape paused, his expression forbiddingly cautious. "Could I have a minute?"
She was afraid he wouldn't talk to her. Normally, Snape just told students to be quiet. But this time the professor paused for a moment and waved the other students ahead. The flash of respect for her that had recently taken up residence in his eyes seemed to be leading him to consider her words as possibly important. Hermione felt warm with appreciation, and a little extra nervous.
"Yes, Miss Granger?"
"Er... I have something for you," she said a little awkwardly, and pulled out a small plastic package which her Adviser eyed dubiously. "It's something for your ears, sir. I know the music is... um... a bit loud... and you can't use a silencing charm because you aren't supposed to use magic...but these Muggle ear protectors really work!"
When Snape made no immediate response, she opened the package and took out one of the little yellow ear cushions and began to demonstrate its use for her teacher. "They're made of soft plastic. You roll them in your fingers to make them compress, and then they expand after you put them in your ears. They block out the worst of the noise. A lot of Muggles use them."
Snape was still quiet, but his expression had changed. He reached out to take the package from her hand in a slow, stunned way, and actually stared bug-eyed at the little pieces of plastic as if they were the Crown Jewels, the map to Shangrila, or the Elixer of life. And then he looked at her in absolute shocked disbelief that she would actually give them to him.
What really set Hermione back was the gratitude that glimmered underneath his amazement. Never had she thought she would see Professor Snape look grateful. Even when she had offered him the headache potion, he hadn't looked like this. If she didn't know better, he actually appeared as though he were ready to hug or kiss her! That thought made her instantly blush.
Kiss her? Oh, honestly! Professor Snape wouldn't really want to do that! Not even for a moment. Would he? But how ridiculous! What in the world had put such an idea into her head?
And yet his eyes had locked directly onto her face, and had focused themselves exactly on her mouth, her lips, and had stayed there-- as if he was really thinking about kissing her. It had been a fierce, hungry, speculative look, a look in which the flash of gratitude she had seen had been suddenly relaced with something else. She blushed again. Those eyes... Those deep, black, penetrating eyes...
Oh, she had to have imagined it! She had to have misread that look. Obviously she had blown something perfectly innocent all out of proportion. That had to be! But why? Was it because, only minutes before, she had been admiring his looks? She really aught to have known better. Professor Snape was her TEACHER. She shouldn't be thinking about whether or not she found him attractive... Did she actually just think about Snape as attractive? Suddenly, Hermione found herself wondering what it would have been like if he HAD kissed her, and she blushed again.
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Severus ushered his charges out of the castle and over to the waiting black bus, still in a euphoric mental haze. Muggle ear protectors! Who would have thought? These would have been an answer to his prayers-- had he actually said any! (Praying had been the one nervous preparation he hadn't done, and he had done just about everything else.) He had been seriously dreading this trip and all it contained, and had wondered more than once in the last twenty-four hours how he was ever going to get through it.
The first Competition, he had been unprepared. He had gone into that hellish Muggle arena completely innocent and blind. He knew what horrors to expect now, and that made it far worse. A torture victim would find it extremely difficult to boldly walk back into the chamber and ask for still more. But that was exactly what he had to do. Severus had sensitive ears, and he was unfortunately subject to headaches-- something he was glad his students didn't know about... Only his fierce Slytherin pride had gotten him up and ready that morning.
It's only a little pain... I can endure pain. So what if it's tedious? Tedium is a teacher's lot. It's just a few hours association with rude, insulting Muggles... Compared to those stupid Deatheaters I had to hang around last year, they are nothing! It's only a short ride with that crazy Custodian at the wheel... This time I'll hex him! And it wasn't as if he was new to torture. As a deatheater, he had taken countless "medicinal" hits of the Cruciatus from that insufferably moody Dark lord. Surely he could survive a day in a loud Muggle mad house. But he wasn't looking forward to it.
And then Miss Granger had presented him with those Muggle noise-blocking devices... He had been so surprised, so delighted and relieved, that he had almost kissed her. But he hadn't, of course, kissed her. Teachers didn't do such things with students. They weren't supposed to. Do do so would be unethical-- a breach of trust-- as well as being undignified. And if he had done so, he could undoubtedly bet his boots that the story would flash accross the school like malisciously gleeful wildfire. Then he would have to face the headmaster, and Miss Granger would probably slap him...
But how strange that she had blushed crimson at that very moment, as if she actually knew what he was thinking-- as if she could sense his sudden errant impulse to take her in his arms and snog her senseless. And how odd that the more he thought about it, the more he wished that he could actually do it. Miss Granger had a very kissable mouth, and with her color high she was even more appealing.
How tempting those plump, red lips looked, so beautifully shaped and parted a little in surprise. How soft they must feel... how sweet...
Snape almost slapped himself at that moment. Stop that! He lectured himself sternly in alarm. What is the matter with you? Have you lost your mind? You are NOT a lech! She is a student and you are a teacher. It is simply not allowed. You could lose your job!
Not to mention look like a complete fool. Miss Granger might look kissable, but he doubted that she would find him so. That pretty little Gryffindor would be more likely to kiss one of the Hogwarts Thestrals than snog him. What must she be thinking of him...
Except that she didn't seem either revolted, horrified, or angry. She only appeared slightly embarrassed and confused because he had stared at her so pointedly. Perhaps she was only worried that she had trespassed in some way and offended him. Perhaps she was flustered because he had acted out of character and displayed gratitude. Of course she didn't actually know that he had been thinking of kissing her. That he was still thinking it... (stop that!) No harm had actually been done.
And it was with relief that he saw her take the seat directly behind him on the bus, proving without a doubt that she couldn't have an inkling of what he had been thinking. If she suspected him of having lecherous thoughts conserning her, she would have put as much distance between them as she could. Instead, she seemed perfectly comfortable with him. Good.
As the bus pulled out of the gates of Hogwarts, Snape looked beyond Miss Granger at the other students sitting two-by-two in the bus. Despite his little pep-talk, and despite the fact that they knew they were better prepared to compete than they were last time, the group seemed apprehensive. They looked a little stiff, their eyes appeared wider.
Of course having a lunatic for a driver didn't help. Filch was making the bus excellerate far faster than the road conditions warranted, and had just taken an extremely sharp, sudden turn. Snape didn't miss the "spooked" appearance of many of the girls. No doubt they all remembered how awful the last trip had been. They looked like nervous horses in a smoking barn. Unfortunately, he had little idea how to calm nerves, being much more tallented in giving them. He turned to Miss Granger.
"Your team appears apprehensive. Any suggestions?"
"Well, we could get them to sing as a distraction. When I was younger and went to summer camp, we always used to sing on the camp bus. And when my junior team went to Competition we sang on the way too."
Snape considered for a moment. He, himself, was not given to singing. He didn't know if he could even carry a tune. And he certainly didn't know any songs.
"What songs did you sing?"
"Oh, just silly camp tunes, rounds, or songs that go on and on. Things like "Found a Peanut," "One Bottle of Pop," or "Roll me Over."
He knew he probably shouldn't ask, but he couldn't help himself. "Roll me Over?"
"Yes," she said innocently. "You must have heard it sometime."
She then procedded to render a verse that made Filch suddenly jerk the steering wheel in such a savage way that the bus crossed into the wrong lane. Thankfully no car was approaching from the other direction. But the whole bus was silent with attention as female ears pricked forward to hear the words and interrested eyes turned their way to the front.
Roll me over
In the clo-o-ver!
Roll me over
Give me a drink
And do it again!
Snape stared at her in outrage. He had never been more shocked in his life and it must have shown. And he thought HIS thoughts had been naughty...
"Children...GIRLS...? Sing THAT?" he barely managed to sputter.
Miss Granger immediately began to backpedal, though he noticed that she didn't look ashamed or contrite... only a little embarrassed.
"Oh, well..." she said with an uncharacteristic hint of a giggle. "Girls DO sing a lot of silly things... But I suppose that song wouldn't really be approprate for mixed company... How about "One Hundred Bottles of Beer on the Wall?"
"Is that one appropriate?" he growled dubiously.
"Oh sure! Even little kids can sing it, although it can be a bit monotonous. It goes like this:"
One hundred bottles of beer on the wall
One hundred bottles of beer!
Take one down and pass it around,
Ninety-nine bottles of beer on the wall!
"And the song just goes on and on until you come to no bottles of beer, but you can always turn the song around and count back to one hundred puting the bottles back up... Shall we sing it?"
Filch chose that moment to favor them all with a comment that was both loud and virulently obscene. Snape had just reached the end of his tether.
"Shut up, Filch!" he shouted, "Or I'll gag you with a potion spoon! What's the matter with you? There are Ladies present!"
"Ladies? That lot?" Their driver pointed a gnarled thumb behind him at the girls and sneered unpleasantly.
Snape rapped Filch's chair sharply with his wand. "And one very proper wizard!" he added sourly. "Keep your eyes on the road, and your mouth shut or I'll turn you into a cat!"
Filch suddenly brightened. He actually looked hopeful The bus veered toward a tree and narrowly missed.
"A neutered cat!" Snape hissed acidly.
The driver's pauchy face turned extra ugly as he scowled in bitter resentment. He gunned the engine, took aim at some approaching railway tracks, and managed to hit them with enough speed to make the bus momentarily airborne. The girls squeeled as luggage spilled onto the floor, and Snape bumped an elbow painfully on the window. He flicked his wand at Filch.
"Ouch! Bloodly hell! How can I drive with you hexing me?"
"Drive properly or I'll hex you again!"
"Great big bully!" the old caretaker muttered. "Just because YOU'VE got magic. Just because you've got a WAND, you think you can lord it over the rest of us...push us around... OUCH! Well, I'm not takin' it! I know my rights! I'm not scared of YOU! I'll just go see the Headmaster. HE won't let you hex me! You'll see!"
"Let's hear "One Hundred Bottles of Beer on the Wall," suggested Snape nastily, turning around and facing the girls. "Sing it loud enough for our driver to hear, but take care not to strain your voices." He gave Filch a wicked sideways glance.
The driver blanched. "Hey! That's not fair! You can't do that to me! It's torture, that is! Cruel and unusual punishment! I'll tell the Headmaster!"
"Please do so. He'll smile and offer you a lemon drop. Go ahead team, SING!"
Snape rolled a pair of the Muggle ear protectors between his fingers and then placed them carefully into his ears. And they actually worked beautifully! Who'd a thought? He settled back into his seat, kept the tip of his wand pointed lazily at Filch, and did his best to enjoy the ride.
The driving didn't improve all that much, but at least Filch kept to one side of the road, the correct side, and refrained from too much excessive speed. He still took turns with far too much sharpness, and seemed to be determined to make the bus kiss the backsides of every vehicle in front of them, but he didn't actually appear to be deliberately reckless. He was obviously just innept. And he was probably the only staff member who could operate one of these things. Of all the flaming bad luck! Perhaps he should learn it himself. If he ever had time...
"OUCH! Cut that out!" Filch's howl of outrage was muffled to a distant whisper through the ear-plugs.
"That was a pedestrian you almost hit," Snape informed him sternly.
"I wasn't aiming for him! Make them stop singing! They're driving me crazy!"
"Don't bother shouting, Filch. I can't hear you, but I can see just fine. Drive CAREFULLY!"
He kept his wand out and Filch hunched in murderous sullenness over the wheel.
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Hermione led the girls in the beginning chorus of "One Hundred Bottles of Beer on the Wall," actually grateful for Filch's rudeness. She had really stuck her foot in it a minute ago with that thoughless little song. Professor Snape had looked on the verge of appoplexy! She had forgotten that he was rather prudish. Naturally, a song like that, sung by a girl student, would seem unnaturally risque.
It was risque, but teen girls sang a lot of bowdy songs-- some far worse than that! Had he never read the poems on the walls of the girls' lavatory? But of course not. He never would have gone into a girls' lavatory... She sighed mentally. What he must think of her! Of all of them! She hoped he wouldn't see them as degenerate delinquents. After all, it was the very innocence of teen girls that made them find such things fascinating. Those who had done everything there was to do no longer giggled and laughed about it in the same way. But Hermione doubted Snape knew this.
Oddly, the professor's prudishness didn't seem silly or stupid to her. There was something noble, something gentlemanly and gallant, about his stiff, proper, old fashioned manners. It was also comforting to realize that though he could be nasty, harsh, and intimidating, there were limits beyond which he would not transgress-- and that would protect them from anyone who would transgress those limits.
When the girls grew tired of "One Hundred Bottles of Beer on the Wall," she took out a pom-pom and began:
A, my name is Angelina,
My husband's name is Anbercrombie!
I live in Aberdeen,
And we sell albatrosses!
She threw the pom-pom to Parvati, who shreaked and giggled, and continued:
B, my name is Beatrice,
My husband's name is Bertie!
We live in... a belfry!
And we sell... Bats!
The girls continued with the game, passing the pom-pomback and forth and laughing hysterically at some of the names their team mates came up with, often substituting others when a player coudn't think of one fast enough. Jerry Sweet was given the name "Flower" and paired up with "Fred" as everyone knew she had a secret crush on Fred (or was it George?) Weasley, who co-owned a joke shop. Lucy Prendergast was paired up (to groans of laughter) with Hagrid and made to sell hagis. Hermione should have known what was coming, but for some reason wasn't expecting it. When they came to "S" the pom-pom was thrown to her...
S, my name is Sandra,
My husband's name is...
"Snape!" laughed one of the Slytherins. All the girls doubled over in their chairs. Hermione felt herself blushing again. Oh, how silly. She looked hastily behind her at the professor, but it was obvious he hadn't heard. He was busy keeping Filch in line, and he was wearing the earplugs. Oh, thank goodness for that! It was bad enough she had already shocked him by the "Roll me over" song. What would he think of this?
"Maybe you should sit on his lap again," whispered Jackie Ross. "and give him some excitement."
"She'd probably give him a heart attack," warned Harriet Ramsbottom. "Didn't someone say Snape was a prude?"
Girls sniggered and clutched each other laughing. Obviously to them a prude might as well be a neuter. But how ridiculous! Hermione had never gotten the impression from Snape that he was anything other than strongly masculine. And he certainly wasn't afraid of women. The professor probably had a very healthy love life outside of school.
There had been a fascinating article in the latest "Witch Weekly" that said wizards who acted proper and standoffish in public were often ravenous tigers in private. She suddenly remembered that intense, hungry look she had thought she had seen in his eyes and wondered if this were so in his case. But why was she thinking this way? Why did she care what her Professor was like in private? Just because it had looked like he was about to kiss her... Just because, for one moment, she had wondered what it would be like if he did...
Oh, this was getting out of hand! She had to get herself and the rest of the girls back on track.She began firmly:
S, my name is Stephanie
My husband's name is Sam
"Severus!" whispered a couple stubborn girls.Hermione glared at them. Thankfully, Snape still didn't turn around. Those ear-plugs were the best investment she had ever made!
We live in Staffordshire
And we sell stoves.
By the time the bus pulled into the hosting school's parking lot, the girls were anything but nervous. An hour of singing and silly games had kept their minds off both the bad driving and the looming competition. But now that they had arrived, Hermione wondered if they had pushed themselves too far. The professor had told them not to strain their voices, but Hermione knew they had all done so. Her own throat felt tired, and the many girls who had squeeled and shrieked with laughter had to feel worse. Worry assaulted her. Perhaps she had let the team down.
Professor Snape rose from his seat in the front and called them to order. There was a crystal vial of something in his hand.
"Before we disembark, you will take a moment to collect and compose yourselves in order to get ready for this Tournament. I expect the best from all of you, and you WILL give it to me."
Everyone was quiet, and perhaps everyone was also thinking, as Hermione was, that they shouldn't have sung or laughed quite so loudly... Snape handed the vial to Hermione.
"Take a sip and pass it around. It will heal whatever you've foolishly done to your voices."
Eyes bugged.
"But I thought we weren't supposed to use any magic, Professor!" exclaimed one of the Slytherins who sounded a little miffed. Most likely she was thinking about the sticky hair goop, the uncomfortable bobby pins, and all those tediously sewn in wigs.
"And you are quite right, Miss Brockelhurst," Snape intoned smoothly. "We are not supposed to use magic in Muggle territory. However, this bus is the property of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. As long as we are in it, we are technically on Hogwarts grounds and not IN Muggle territory. That is why all wands, except mine, and all magical artifacts will be left here on the bus. Drink your potion!"
The girls all passed around the potion vial and carefully took a sip of it. Throats felt instantly better and voices returned to top form. The professor looked a little smug as he took back his potion vial. The four Slytherin girls flashed proud, conspiratorial looks at him, and smug looks at everyone else. Hermione actually smiled. It was rather nice having a Slytherin for an Advisor! She grinned at the girls.
"OK team! Lets go get em!" she said rousingly.
All of them, save Filch, left the bus in a cheerful attitude.