***All warfare is based on deception. – Sun Tsu***
Catherine was consulting the library's finding aids, checking the indexes against the actual holdings in the stacks when she heard Dumbledore call her name from the front of the room. She almost tucked her quill into the ponytail she'd made of her hair, until she remembered this was not an ordinary pen. She laid it on the table, and went to meet the headmaster.
As she turned the corner of the last stack, she said, "Albus?"
He was standing by the reception desk, peering at her laptop curiously. He looked up at her briefly before returning his attention to the small screen. "You shouldn't have this in full view of anyone who may come into the library," he told her reproachfully. He still looked as tired as he had the night before.
"I was told that I couldn't have any Muggle equipment that had been enchanted. I didn't realize I couldn't have anything technological. Besides, doesn't that just negate the whole point?" she asked. As she was wondering how long it would actually take her to try to improve this mess without a computer, he answered her.
"That's not what I mean," he said. "There is enough …" he searched for the best word, "mistrust around here, you risk having it tampered with by less knowledgeable persons. "
She thought of Snape's warning. "I see what you mean. So, is this a social call?"She asked. She doubted that was his purpose.
He pulled a wand from his robe, and as he swished it said, "Privatus. "A yellow, glittering cocoon rose from the floor to surround them both.
"Cone of silence," Catherine said, enjoying her own joke. She didn't explain, but was sure he wouldn't get the reference to the old television spy spoof anyway. "Are you sure this will work with what I say?"
"What is more important is that it will work on those who may listen," Dumbledore replied. "How is your work progressing?"
"So far, everything seems to be in fair order, if you're just talking about finding what's listed in the indexes. But I tell you what … sorting through a few centuries' worth of differing opinions on how to cross-index—"
"Can you find the tome?" He interrupted.
"Madam Pince's notes are pretty sketchy. She was right when she said you could search for a lifetime for some texts and never find them unless they wanted you to. I swear, half a dozen of the books I've re-shelved have practically walked back to where they were when I found them. "
Dumbledore chuckled. "They may have done precisely that. Creatures of habit, you know. I don't envy your job. When I told Madam Pince what I was looking for, she said the enchantments on those volumes were such that even with her thirty years experience in this library, she could look for a year and possibly remain unsuccessful. "
"And you want me to find them in a few days," Catherine mused grimly.
"I'm hoping your—" he gestured at her left ear, "technology and your skills are as effective as you claim. "
"Ho, boy," Catherine sighed good-humoredly. "Beware professional exaggerations, right?"
Dumbledore smiled. "We will prevail," he told her. But she wondered if he was trying to convince her, or himself. "I also hope your tip withstands anything Voldemort may send to impede you. "
"Tip?"Catherine asked.
"The technology …" he answered, looking helplessly confused.
"The chip. It's a microchip. "She wondered if he were starting to lose his hearing. She would have to make sure she was facing him whenever she spoke to him. "I think it will be ok. I've already had it tested once so far that I know of," she said grimly.
"With Snape, last night," he confirmed with a nod.
"How did you--?"Her eyes widened. He must know everything that went on in this school. It was full of spies, evidently. That made her extremely uncomfortable.
"I'm sure he will continue to watch you," he informed her, his eyes inexplicably twinkling.
Well Snape can go kiss his own ass, Catherine thought rebelliously. Aloud she said, "I'm sure you're right. But, believe me, I can handle him. "
"Don't underestimate him, Catherine. He is capable of dark things," he said mysteriously. At her sharp look he added, "Don't fear. I was truthful when I told you that I trust him. But he will stop at nothing until he knows where you stand. Still, I only managed to convince the Ministry of Magic that you were useful in finding this tome. They couldn't conceive of an army of Muggles inoculated against the force of any magics," he told her solemnly. "I'm not sure I hardly believe it myself. "
"In any case," she said. "Once I have mapped out exactly what you have or don't have according to your indexes … I'll be able to work from there. This collection is fairly large, though. Under ordinary circumstances, I would have said you should give me about two weeks for the major works. But, I'll take a few shortcuts. "
The old wizard nodded. She could tell he would like to have heard it would take less time, but accepted her judgment. "Very well. I shall let you get on with it then. "
"Thanks, Albus," she said affectionately.
He smiled, squeezed her hand, and said, "Finite incantatem. "The bubble of light around them dissipated and he left the library.
%%%%%%%
Late again.
Harry followed Ron into Madam Wermut's DADA class at almost a dead run, his robes billowing behind him, as were Ron's. Why were they always late for the first class of each semester?Even as he asked himself this question, Harry knew the answer. Because scouting out the ways to sneak into the forbidden areas after hours was far more fascinating than most any class ever was. He saw their seats at almost the same time Ron did, and they each threw themselves down into the chairs, clutching their books and scrolls.
Mr. Weasley and Mr. Potter, I presume?"Madame Wermut said from the front of the class. The two young men looked up at her to see her standing with her arms crossed, wand in one hand, and watching them impassively.
"Yes, ma'am," Harry answered breathlessly. "We wer—" He was about to give her the excuse he and Ron had invented, but she interrupted him.
"Irrelevant," she said sharply. "Five points from Gryffindor apiece, and you will each write an essay on the merits of punctuality due tomorrow morning--" She paused. "At five minutes before the hour in order to make up the time you have cost us. "
Ron and Harry exchanged long, horrified looks. Detention before class?Was she mad?Harry returned his attention to the professor. On her aquiline nose, a pair of small gold-tone glasses was perched precariously as she looked over the rims at him. She had the palest blue eyes Harry had ever seen; so pale they looked unreal.
"Now. If I may continue?" she asked sarcastically. Without waiting for an answer, she said, "As I was saying, before our interruption," she raised one eyebrow meaningfully. "In your first several years, you have been taught how to engage and counter a number of important spells and deadly creatures. These are important in your understanding of the Dark Arts, for to know one's enemy, one learns about oneself. However, for the first trimester of this school year, I will instruct you on how to apply the knowledge you have. The outcome of any battle, any war, or any struggle depends on one's ability to utilize fully one's strengths and to exploit fully the weaknesses of one's enemy. This is a habit developed through practice and discipline. "
Ron slowly slid a piece of paper next to Harry's arm. Harry hadn't even noticed this friend scribbling. The note read, "Snape's twin sister … Separated at birth?"Harry pretended to cough in order to stifle his laugh.
Professor Wermut uncrossed her arm, and lay her wand down on her desk. "I am of the understanding that before this year, you have had little experience with the practice of the theories taught in class. I believe there used to be a Dueling Club, which ended after the departure of Professor Lockhart several years ago. I intend to revive this club, not just for extracurricular activity, but for the purpose of providing a lab during which the additional spells and principles taught in this class may be illustrated and countered in context. "
Ron and Harry exchanged looks again, this time mixed with excitement and a little worry. Harry slid a look over to Draco Malfoy, his fellow student and long-time nemesis, of a sort. Draco was smiling smugly, and curled his lip contemptuously when he caught Harry's eye. It was an expression Harry had seen on Snape's face often enough that he realized Draco had copied it perfectly. "Oh, for Heaven's sake," Harry breathed, almost soundlessly. Had the whole world turned Snape Mad?
He sighed, and endured the rest of the class impatiently. Quidditch practice never seemed so far away. \
%%%%%%%
"So, how did Quidditch practice go?" Cho asked, taking Harry's hand in hers as they sat together on a secluded set of stairs. They were seated under Harry's invisibility cloak.
"Charlie's going to be a beast of a coach, but I like him," Harry answered. He squeezed her hand, and put his arm around her. "How was your day?"
"No problems, except for that ten points off Ravensclaw in potions class," she answered grumpily.
"Well, that's not your fault," Harry said. "How were we supposed to know you had to shave the hair off that mushroom before we put it in the cauldrons? You just happened to get to that stage first. Otherwise, we all would have been sporting moustaches right about now." Harry affectionately tickled the thick handlebar moustache Cho was presently afflicted with. "What did Pomfrey say?"
"It'll wear off in a day or so, but that arse Snape told her not to take it off me. I swear to the gods … someday … it wouldn't be so bad, I guess, if I could shave it off. But it won't let me," she complained.
Harry grinned at her swear word. She'd seemed to have picked up the habit from her friends over the summer. He thought it sounded funny coming from someone so feminine, but he didn't have the heart to tell her.
"By the way," she continued, "I thought you were going to avoid Potions this year."
"I was. But when Professor McGonagall saw my courses she talked me out of Magical Creatures again. She said I might like Hagrid better than Snape, but that with my talents Potions would do me more good in the long run. I guess she's right." Harry told her.
They heard some murmuring and the shuffling of feet down the hall from where they sat. Harry put his finger to his lips to quiet Cho, and they scooted to the far side of the stairs. Professor Wermut and Professor Snape appeared at the bottom of the steps, where they both paused, looking up at where he and Cho sat. They obviously had expected to see someone there, and seemed surprised to find no one there.
"I was sure I heard voices," Professor Wermut said edgily.
"No doubt, you did," Snape told her, his narrow look implying that he'd heard something too. "Leave it to Filch. There isn't much up those stairs except the Auror's classroom, in any case. So. You were saying?"
"Yes. I agree with you. The new librarian does seem quite suspicious, but do you really believe that Dumbledore would allow someone so untrustworthy into his employment?" Wermut asked.
"It's not unheard of," Snape said dryly.
The professor said something softly in German. "Then he is a fool. If you cannot trust a man's judgment, you cannot trust the man. Good intentions or no."
Harry could tell this comment displeased Snape greatly. He straightened, and looked down at the blonde with disapproval. "You underestimate Dumbledore. He is one of the greatest wizards I have ever known."
Wermut sniffed. "All this because he was feared by the Dark Lord. Perhaps when he was younger, and stronger, this was true. But even you must see he has made many mistakes in the last several years. Dangerous mistakes. Everyone abroad can see this. The English cling to their heroes too closely. It is naïve."
Harry and Cho exchanged raised eyebrows at her boldness. Hardly anyone spoke to Snape in this brusque manner. Snape dealt it, but everyone knew he couldn't take it. Snape, however, just seemed to sag in acceptance of Wermut's assessment. "He usually has his reasons," Snape answered, but without his usual hauteur.
"I'm sure," Wermut answered ironically. "This American, however, may be our undoing. She should be watched. You made a mistake when you spoke to her last night. We cannot afford to alienate her."
Snape stretched his arms elegantly and pulled his robes closer around his shoulders. "I know what I'm doing," he told her icily. "If all goes as we discussed, she will still be gone by Christmas."
"Ausgezeichnet," Wermut said approvingly. "Let us not forget to find out why she is here before we act, however."
"Why does he trust her so much?" Cho breathed so softly, Harry almost didn't hear her. He shrugged.
Wermut put her hand up to rest on Snape's arm. "We will work together mein freund."
Snape astonished both Harry and Cho by taking Wermut's hand and lifting it to his lips. "Why else do you think I sponsored your selection so avidly? When Dumbledore revealed his list of choices, I knew immediately."
Professor Wermut smiled, and Harry was reminded of his first impression of her. She looked like a radiant fairy princess when she was pleased. She took the crook of Snape's arm and started to lead him down the hall again. "Let us discuss the Dueling Club-" she was saying as they walked away.
Harry slipped out from beneath the cloak and risked tiptoeing down the stairs to see which way they were going. The couple turned to the left down a side passage as he peered around the corner.
"Harry!" Cho whispered intently. He looked back, but saw nothing but empty stairs. He felt her press against his side. "Let's go back before we're missed," Cho told him.
"Don't you want to know what's going on?" Harry asked her.
"Of course I do, but it's too dangerous to follow Snape right now," she answered. "They'll be too watchful."
"Why don't we go see what that new librarian's up to, then?" He grinned at her.
"Go do your homework, Harry. Let Dumbledore see to this," she told him firmly.
"But he doesn't know-"
"How do you know he doesn't? C'mon, let's go back," she said, pulling him forward. "Forget about it, ok?" Harry sighed and let her drag him back toward the student dorms. He bet he could talk Ron or Hermione into a little excursion later, anyway. "All right," he said. "I'm following you."
