Mayhem
The scene playing out in the Great Hall was nothing short of horrific. A smoky haze permeated the room obscuring the enchanted ceiling. Ash, soot and a few feathers rained down on the house tables. House elves ducked and weaved their way around trying to avoid immolation while getting things done. Owls crashed headlong into tables or walls as they suddenly found their packages aflame mid-flight. Some students heeded the call of self-preservation and wisely ate their breakfasts under cover of their table. A few students who still had their Prophets were hunkered under their house tables passing the paper among themselves.
Through all this mayhem, the Slytherins were taking bets and odds on their head of house. And why not, Professor Snape was putting on quite a show of marksmanship.
"That's twenty-five in the last ten minutes!" shouted Blaize Zabini frantically trying to keep a tally. The table shouted out the count every time their head of house made a hit.
Snape spotted a target. He took aim. He fired. "Incendio Prophet."
The targeted post owl dropped a copy of the Daily Prophet down to the outstretched hand of one from his house. The paper incinerated in midair.
"Twenty-six!" roared the Slytherins.
Severus turned to his right barely catching another owl delivering the same paper in the vicinity of the Gryffindor table. "Incendio Prophet." The owl screeched indignantly and flew off not bothering to collect their normal delivery fee.
"Twenty-seven!"
At the High Table several teachers who still had their copy of the Daily Prophet were busy reading over each other's shoulders. Harry sat next to Snape and was also reading the salacious article. The students were craning their necks and looking about waiting for the next owl to arrive. Plumes of smoke could be seen rising steadily from the tip of the potions master's wand.
"Twenty-eight!"
"Albus, put a stop to this before we lose an owl or a student!" exclaimed Minerva McGonagall.
"Twenty-nine!"
Dumbledore took a drink of pumpkin juice before turning to his deputy headmistress. "Did you like the flowers, Minerva? I found them while on my walk around the lake this morning."
"Thirty!" The count now resounded from all the house tables.
Caught by surprise, Minerva said rather automatically, "They were lovely. Thank you."
Dumbledore surveying the unfolding carnage. "Well, nothing wrong with the students' reflexes or survival instincts."
Minerva got to her feet. "Students! Please, do not attempt to get a Prophet. Stay away from—"
There by the massive doors stood Hermione Granger. With regal grace, she made her way up the center aisle towards the high table. Behind her glided Guido who waved and handed out his business card.
"Guido St. John, phantasm actor. I'm union and certifiable. I did the Late, Late Show three times last year," said Guido.
"Thirty-one!"
"It's her! The one in the paper - Hermione Granger," said a Ravenclaw.
"I do imitations dead on. I do role-playing too for consenting adults. Tell your parents. I'm great at parties!"
"Thirty-two!"
"I'm fit to purpose for interviews. For audio work, I'm known as the Phantasm of a Thousand Voices," said Guido.
"So it's true! Oh my god, he … she… they've touched!" came from a Hufflepuff. "Yech!"
"I give discounts for multiple bookings. Did I mention I'm a terrific vocal impersonator - Tom Jones, David Bowie and Elton. I'm told my Ed Sheeran is to die for. You should see my Shirley Bassey frocks," said Guido. "And I'm part of a group so the Spice Girls or One Direction is doable. Keep me in mind!"
Severus had missed her grand entrance. He had been busy scanning the ceiling for more owls. Now, midway up the aisle, he saw her approaching. Her face was alight with righteous indignation and determination. He had never seen her look more beautiful. She rounded the end of the high table her strides long and steady.
Guido caught sight of Harry. "Hi, boss. What are you doing here?"
Harry stood up so suddenly that his chair fell to the floor with a loud bang. One hand reached for his wand. "Say goodbye to your bonus, Guido."
"You're the boss? HIS BOSS?!" Hermione beat Harry to the draw and trained her wand on him. "Do you know what he's been doing to ME?!"
"Well, of course, I drew up the contract." Harry realized he was taking the wrong approached and raised his arms in front of him in supplication. "I mean … I mean that I had no choice! The headmaster asked me to help."
Hermione's face was unyielding and the cold glint of her eyes convinced him that she was not in the right frame of mind to be reasoned with.
Harry continued to dig himself into a hole. "He twinkles like he does and I nod my head. How could I say no?"
Hermione ranted on. "So you've defeated Voldemort, saved the world and now you take to renting out half-baked, would be Cyrano de Bergeracs!?"
"Why thank you, Hermione, that's the best thing anyone has ever said about me. I'm touched!" said Guido.
"It's the family business, Hermione. I found out fifth year when I found out about the Order thing. Where do you think my inheritance came from?" Harry explained further. "I've been learning the business this past year. I've got an A List and a B List of talents. Whatever you want, it's on me."
"Hermione, can I quote you on that?" Guido asked.
"You've quoted too much as it is, Guido. Don't even try to deny it!" Hermione's words hissed out of her clenched teeth.
Guido stepped a respectful distance away.
Her wand remained locked on Harry. "With a friend like you, I don't need Rita Skeeter!"
"Come on, Hermione, I'm sorry. You weren't talking to Severus. We thought that-" Harry flinched as a beam of light from Hermione's wand hit him square on the chest. Harry's vision blurred for a few seconds. His throat felt tight.
In the next blink of the eye, where Harry Potter had stood was a man-sized pigeon with red and gold plumage no less. Harry flapped his wings uselessly. "Squawk! Squawk!"
Severus had remained seated observing all that was playing out in front of him. Now, upon hearing Hermione's words, he stood up and whirled on Guido. "Yes, yes, the details in the Prophet could only have come from you. Got a bit greedy, did you, you gutless traitor?"
"It wasn't me. Not … not entirely, professor, sir," said Guido defensively. "I didn't tell Skeeter any of the really good stuff like Snape Virtue Number Seven. I had to recoup my earnings from the job I was pulled from to do this one. Acting isn't steady work and—"
"It's not his fault. He was just doing his job," said Hermione. "He was following your instructions to the letter."
"Yes, listen to her. She's absolutely right." Guido sidled to stand closer to Hermione and slightly behind her as
Snape advanced towards them. Hermione held her ground.
Severus began to say, "Hermione, we need to talk. There's so much I want to—"
"Yes, there's so much I need to say, too, Severus." Hermione smiled beguilingly. "First things first. I want to add an addendum to Guido's contract."
Prat: She called us Severus not Swine. She's going to give us another chance. Yes!.
Gent: Steady, steady, men, we're not out of the deep water yet. Do I sense a thawing in the glacier?
Wolf: Ah, something about that smile worries me.
Severus waved his wand and a small scroll appeared in front of him. He grabbed it and gave it to Hermione. She conjured a quill and began to write on the contract.
"Wait, wait, you can't add an addendum now!" Guido cried out.
"Can't I?" Hermione shot Harry a piercing look. Harry the pigeon nodded his head silently.
"But … but that's highly irregular," Guido protested. "Boss, union rules apply! The last Geneva accords said that it was—"
"The rules never really applied to the three of us, did they, Harry?" Hermione pointed her wand at him. In a burst of light, he changed back to normal. "I want this addendum and I will have it. What will it be?"
"Anything you want. On the house." Harry replied.
He watched as Hermione signed her name on the contract. She handed the contract to him.
Harry read it quickly and his face grew red. It was a full minute before he exhaled. "Guido, the addendum states that the expiration date of this contract has been removed. You need only do one thing to gain your immediate release from further contractual obligations. Listen carefully. You must talk to the Hogwarts house elves and convince at least one of them to wear clothes permanently. You will offer appropriate clothes to them. Dobby and Winky do not count. Only then, after the one, will you be released."
"Is that all? Just one elf? You made it sound so dramatic. I could talk a monkey out of its tree," Guido boasted.
"Guido, I tried to do that very same thing and failed," said Hermione with a faint smile on her lips. "I'm sure that you with your superior powers of persuasion will succeed where I failed."
"I will be out of here in no time at all," said Guido. "The sooner started the sooner ended. Where do I find these elves?"
"The kitchens," Professor McGonagall supplied helpfully. "Sir Nicholas, would you be so kind as to escort Mr. St. John to the kitchens."
The Gryffindor ghost bowed and led Guido out of the hall and to the kitchens.
Hermione now turned her attentions to Severus. She traced a line along his jaw line with her hand. "Headmaster, could you assign a substitute teacher for potions today? Severus won't be able to make it to class."
"Of course, Hermione," said Dumbledore. "I'll teach his class. The change will be good for the students."
"Thank you, headmaster." Hermione nodded at Dumbledore then turned back to Snape. "What am I going to do with you, professor?"
"Anything you want, Ms. Granger," Severus murmured. His voice was meant for her ears alone.
Hermione's eyes flashed. "In that case, you, me, dungeons, now!"
Hermione and Severus departed for the dungeons amid hoots, whispers and many comments trailing in their wake.
Prat: What exactly do I want to say? It must be exactly right. No mistakes now.
Wolf: This does not feel right. Is this what nervous feels like?
Gent: She does seem to be in vengeful mood, doesn't she?
Prat: I love you never leave me again. I promise to communicate and be less possessive.
Wolf: Look what she did to Potter!
Gent: Guido's fate does not bear thinking about. He may well still be here past the next millennium.
Prat: I was an idiot. All I can say is I—
Wolf: Will you stop burbling on and on, Prat!
Gent: Keep alert. Methinks our Ms. Granger is not what she seems.
Prat: This may be our last chance. Say yes to ANYTHING she wants.