That night around eight o' clock, Professor Snape was careening
through the hallways, reflecting with resentment on the fact that
Gryffindor had definitely hired a much better decorator, when he noticed a
light on in the Slytherin kitchen. His curiosity was immediately piqued
mostly because no child in all of Slytherin could possibly know how to
cook, but by the time he got to the doorway his main interest was in
acquiring a light snack, perhaps a bowl of fruit.
The kitchen was somewhat small, but its space was conserved in a long, narrow aisle with counters on either side of it. At the very end of it was a wooden icebox that gleamed with a shrine-like quality, and he directly walked over to it and opened it, finding nothing but an aluminum can of tuna, a pitcher of concentrated lemonade, a stupidly misplaced box of cereal, and some discouragingly ancient-looking dairy products. He managed to find a container of lemon yogurt with a safe expiration date, and was just spooning in the first mouthful when he heard a metallic crash from the other end of the kitchen.
"Who's there?" he demanded, just as a brown-haired head popped up from behind one of the counters.
Snape squinted. "Um...Pardon my asking, Miss Granger, but WHAT THE BLOODY HELL?"
She stood up and clanked a fallen aluminum tray back on the counter. "I wasn't hiding, professor, I swear. I'm cooking, see?"
"I suppose I'll believe you when you tell me what you're doing in this kitchen," Snape replied in a questioning tone.
"Our oven is broken," Hermione explained. "Miss McGonnagall let me in. She said yours is never used, it might work the best."
With diminishing suspicion Snape walked over to the oven Hermione was using. He detected a sweet, sticky aroma, and almost smiled.
"What's the occasion for butterscotch?" he asked, bending to rest his crossed arms on the counter.
Hermione blushed a little, and admitted, quite simply, "Boyfriend."
"Ah." Snape scratched the back of his head. "I suppose, being the most familiar with the behavior of the students in this wing, that it would be in my duty to supervise you and make sure you don't get hazed."
It seemed unusual for a house counselor, especially Snape, to degrade their own students, but Hermione honestly wasn't sure if he was kidding or not.
"I'm sure I'll be fine," she replied, and in her own mystery, added, "They don't teach us Defense for nothing, Professsor Snape."
"They sure don't," he agreed in a low voice, and began heading out of the kitchen. "I'll be on the lookout for loiterers, make sure nothing draws them in here. Wouldn't want to disturb the rich romantic ambience in this kitchen." And with that polite mockery, he was out the door.
Hermione's timer, which was a bewitched collection of glass marbles moving in a symmetrical rhythm around eachother, lit up briefly, and she took the treats out of the oven and set them on a sickening-green porcelain plate. And frowned with dread.
.
It is a well-known fact that Slytherin members do not often study, or read. Therefore, about every night in the Slytherin house, there is a massive congregation in their common room for socializing of the most wicked kind. For Slytherin members are known to have the most fiercely adhesive social division of any house in Hogwarts school, but none of them are truly friends.
At exactly 8:24, such a gathering was occuring in the Slytherin room, which involved three different groups involved in different interests. One group was giving Draco Malfoy all of the attention, while the two other groups recently found his fame sickening.
The first group, of which a boy named Stoker Lebane seemed to be the chief influence, was engaged in a gambling fest involving thin, yellowed cards that made it easy to cheat with a simple deterioration spell. The second was a group of boys huddled cautiously around a pile of Muggle pornography, compliments of Tomas Raywing, possibly the most resourceful member of Slytherin. The third was simply a snickering gossip circle, gathered around none other than Malfoy.
At exactly twenty-five minutes past eight, Stoker Lebane was about to get pounded for having his wand up his sleeve, Tomas Raywing had already begun strangling a Second Year for tearing a page of his favorite Penthouse, a couple of Malfoy's buddies were cursing ragefully at eachother over a misunderstanding about a girlfriend, Snape was taking a piss, and Hermione emerged in front of half of the members of Slytherin house, with a cookie tray and a huge grin, and announced, "Who wants butterscotch?"
.
Next morning Harry and Ron were studying the ingredients of a paralysis potion over breakfast. Harry was gulping down some milk when he heard rapidly approaching footsteps, and he jumped about a foot in the air and spilled some of it on his pajamas when Hermione suddenly slammed a Saran-wrapped tray of very burned butterscotch in front of him.
"Eat it."
Hermione walked around the table, which was quite a long way, and sat across from Harry.
Harry pouted with utter confusion. "What happened?"
"Yeah," said Ron. "You look terrible. Ugh," he added as he recieved a jab in the ribs from Harry.
She sighed heavily, with pure frustration, and furiously pushed the petition portfolio across the table, jabbing it into Harry`s ribs.
"Ow...What's wrong?" Harry opened the portfolio. He closed it. He clasped his hands together and rested them on the table. Hermione looked away.
"Um. Hermione...?" he started gently.
"What."
"Uh." He said just above a whisper, "There's no signatures in here."
"I KNOW!"
"Oh. Okay." Harry looked at Ron, who was quite taken aback, and gave him a look that meant something like, "Woooah, shit."
"So...what happened?" Ron asked.
Hermione sniffed forcefully, and began, "The stove is broken....and the butterscotch...they wouldn`t turn out right...and the common room....they ate all the candy, they were like locusts devouring everything in their path. And Malfoy and the guys..."
"What on earth are you talking about? Babe, are you okay?" Harry asked, suddenly quite concerned. "What did they do?"
"Nothing."
"No. What did they do?"
"Harry, don`t get mad."
"I`m not going to get mad," he said in a dark tone of voice that showed he was definitely about to get mad.
"Well..."
.
"You bastard!" Harry shouted as he attacked the Slytherin eating table, grabbing two fistfulls of Draco`s robes from behind and slamming him forward so that his face went into his plate of scrambled eggs with quite an amount of force.
"Harry, calm down!" Ron said, trying to hold Harry back. "It`s not just Malfoy! They were all doing it! You can`t beat them all up!" But unfortunately Ron was precisely as weak as he looked, unlike Harry who could throw quite a punch for being so skinny, and he was unintentionally thrown back onto the floor.
"What`s the matter, Potter?" Draco laughed loudly, wiping egg off of his face as he stood from the table. "Angry that you missed out on the fun last night?"
"You`re such a bunch of fuckin` pussies!" Ron yelled, interrupting Harry`s mouth just as it had opened to say something. "You know you were taking advantage of the fact that she was alone, cause you knew damn well Harry would kick your ass if he saw you doing anything like that to her!"
"It`s her fault for waltzing in there all by herself!" Draco shouted back. "What did the bitch expect?"
That set off Harry again, and before Draco could move Harry`s fist came into the side of his face.
"Hey!" said Goyle, he and Crabbe getting up from their seats. "You`re gonna pay for that!"
"Stop! Stop! Hold it!"
The command had come from Professer Snape, who had seen the whole thing from far away and had just now made it across the very long dining hall to break up the fight. "Allright, enough of this. Both of you come with me."
"Harry?" said Hermione, who had been climbing over tables to get to the Slytherin group while trying not to rip her leggings and therefore had missed nearly the whole thing.
"Both of you get back to your table," Snape said to her and Ron. Then he grabbed Harry and Draco both by their robes, practically carrying them over into a corner.
"Sir," Draco said. "I can explain. He -"
"Shut up," Snape said, and took Harry to the side where they were out of Draco`s earshot. He didn`t have to ask any questions before Harry started spewing out answers.
"It was them, Professer. All of them," he said. "They harassed Hermione."
"Who?"
"All of them. Everyone who was in the common room last night. She told me everything. They carried her into the bathroom and were sticking her head down the toilet. Goyle stole her shoes. Malfoy felt her up," he said, pointing at Draco angrily. "And Raywing is supplying the male members of the house with porno mags."
"...Oh. I don`t see what that has to do with anything, but allright. Thank you. You can go."
Harry looked puzzled. "I can? Uh...thanks."
"I`m only letting you go because I owe it to you; I should have been keeping a better eye on things. Just as long as you`ll keep this stuff away from Dumbledore. Between you and me, I think he`s a bit too senile for this kind of business."
"Oh. Yeah, sure." Pause. "Wait a minute. Is this just so you can let them off easy?"
"Oh, no. These boys are going to be praying to God for mercy when I get through with them," he said, and Harry widened his eyes almost scared for his own life as Snape cracked his knuckles in a tight fist. "Well. You watch out for that girl. I don`t want to see her getting in trouble with my boys again."
Harry nodded. "Yeah. Actually I feel really responsible." He sighed, realizing he couldn`t exactly explain how this was his fault. "You`re probably wondering what she was doing in the Slytherin quarters anyway."
"Oh, I know that already. The oven broke in the Gryffindor quarters, right? Heaven forbid she be unable to supply her man with some nice butterscotch." With that he gave Harry a suggestive wink and turned to go talk to Draco, leaving Harry extremely confused but relieved.
The kitchen was somewhat small, but its space was conserved in a long, narrow aisle with counters on either side of it. At the very end of it was a wooden icebox that gleamed with a shrine-like quality, and he directly walked over to it and opened it, finding nothing but an aluminum can of tuna, a pitcher of concentrated lemonade, a stupidly misplaced box of cereal, and some discouragingly ancient-looking dairy products. He managed to find a container of lemon yogurt with a safe expiration date, and was just spooning in the first mouthful when he heard a metallic crash from the other end of the kitchen.
"Who's there?" he demanded, just as a brown-haired head popped up from behind one of the counters.
Snape squinted. "Um...Pardon my asking, Miss Granger, but WHAT THE BLOODY HELL?"
She stood up and clanked a fallen aluminum tray back on the counter. "I wasn't hiding, professor, I swear. I'm cooking, see?"
"I suppose I'll believe you when you tell me what you're doing in this kitchen," Snape replied in a questioning tone.
"Our oven is broken," Hermione explained. "Miss McGonnagall let me in. She said yours is never used, it might work the best."
With diminishing suspicion Snape walked over to the oven Hermione was using. He detected a sweet, sticky aroma, and almost smiled.
"What's the occasion for butterscotch?" he asked, bending to rest his crossed arms on the counter.
Hermione blushed a little, and admitted, quite simply, "Boyfriend."
"Ah." Snape scratched the back of his head. "I suppose, being the most familiar with the behavior of the students in this wing, that it would be in my duty to supervise you and make sure you don't get hazed."
It seemed unusual for a house counselor, especially Snape, to degrade their own students, but Hermione honestly wasn't sure if he was kidding or not.
"I'm sure I'll be fine," she replied, and in her own mystery, added, "They don't teach us Defense for nothing, Professsor Snape."
"They sure don't," he agreed in a low voice, and began heading out of the kitchen. "I'll be on the lookout for loiterers, make sure nothing draws them in here. Wouldn't want to disturb the rich romantic ambience in this kitchen." And with that polite mockery, he was out the door.
Hermione's timer, which was a bewitched collection of glass marbles moving in a symmetrical rhythm around eachother, lit up briefly, and she took the treats out of the oven and set them on a sickening-green porcelain plate. And frowned with dread.
.
It is a well-known fact that Slytherin members do not often study, or read. Therefore, about every night in the Slytherin house, there is a massive congregation in their common room for socializing of the most wicked kind. For Slytherin members are known to have the most fiercely adhesive social division of any house in Hogwarts school, but none of them are truly friends.
At exactly 8:24, such a gathering was occuring in the Slytherin room, which involved three different groups involved in different interests. One group was giving Draco Malfoy all of the attention, while the two other groups recently found his fame sickening.
The first group, of which a boy named Stoker Lebane seemed to be the chief influence, was engaged in a gambling fest involving thin, yellowed cards that made it easy to cheat with a simple deterioration spell. The second was a group of boys huddled cautiously around a pile of Muggle pornography, compliments of Tomas Raywing, possibly the most resourceful member of Slytherin. The third was simply a snickering gossip circle, gathered around none other than Malfoy.
At exactly twenty-five minutes past eight, Stoker Lebane was about to get pounded for having his wand up his sleeve, Tomas Raywing had already begun strangling a Second Year for tearing a page of his favorite Penthouse, a couple of Malfoy's buddies were cursing ragefully at eachother over a misunderstanding about a girlfriend, Snape was taking a piss, and Hermione emerged in front of half of the members of Slytherin house, with a cookie tray and a huge grin, and announced, "Who wants butterscotch?"
.
Next morning Harry and Ron were studying the ingredients of a paralysis potion over breakfast. Harry was gulping down some milk when he heard rapidly approaching footsteps, and he jumped about a foot in the air and spilled some of it on his pajamas when Hermione suddenly slammed a Saran-wrapped tray of very burned butterscotch in front of him.
"Eat it."
Hermione walked around the table, which was quite a long way, and sat across from Harry.
Harry pouted with utter confusion. "What happened?"
"Yeah," said Ron. "You look terrible. Ugh," he added as he recieved a jab in the ribs from Harry.
She sighed heavily, with pure frustration, and furiously pushed the petition portfolio across the table, jabbing it into Harry`s ribs.
"Ow...What's wrong?" Harry opened the portfolio. He closed it. He clasped his hands together and rested them on the table. Hermione looked away.
"Um. Hermione...?" he started gently.
"What."
"Uh." He said just above a whisper, "There's no signatures in here."
"I KNOW!"
"Oh. Okay." Harry looked at Ron, who was quite taken aback, and gave him a look that meant something like, "Woooah, shit."
"So...what happened?" Ron asked.
Hermione sniffed forcefully, and began, "The stove is broken....and the butterscotch...they wouldn`t turn out right...and the common room....they ate all the candy, they were like locusts devouring everything in their path. And Malfoy and the guys..."
"What on earth are you talking about? Babe, are you okay?" Harry asked, suddenly quite concerned. "What did they do?"
"Nothing."
"No. What did they do?"
"Harry, don`t get mad."
"I`m not going to get mad," he said in a dark tone of voice that showed he was definitely about to get mad.
"Well..."
.
"You bastard!" Harry shouted as he attacked the Slytherin eating table, grabbing two fistfulls of Draco`s robes from behind and slamming him forward so that his face went into his plate of scrambled eggs with quite an amount of force.
"Harry, calm down!" Ron said, trying to hold Harry back. "It`s not just Malfoy! They were all doing it! You can`t beat them all up!" But unfortunately Ron was precisely as weak as he looked, unlike Harry who could throw quite a punch for being so skinny, and he was unintentionally thrown back onto the floor.
"What`s the matter, Potter?" Draco laughed loudly, wiping egg off of his face as he stood from the table. "Angry that you missed out on the fun last night?"
"You`re such a bunch of fuckin` pussies!" Ron yelled, interrupting Harry`s mouth just as it had opened to say something. "You know you were taking advantage of the fact that she was alone, cause you knew damn well Harry would kick your ass if he saw you doing anything like that to her!"
"It`s her fault for waltzing in there all by herself!" Draco shouted back. "What did the bitch expect?"
That set off Harry again, and before Draco could move Harry`s fist came into the side of his face.
"Hey!" said Goyle, he and Crabbe getting up from their seats. "You`re gonna pay for that!"
"Stop! Stop! Hold it!"
The command had come from Professer Snape, who had seen the whole thing from far away and had just now made it across the very long dining hall to break up the fight. "Allright, enough of this. Both of you come with me."
"Harry?" said Hermione, who had been climbing over tables to get to the Slytherin group while trying not to rip her leggings and therefore had missed nearly the whole thing.
"Both of you get back to your table," Snape said to her and Ron. Then he grabbed Harry and Draco both by their robes, practically carrying them over into a corner.
"Sir," Draco said. "I can explain. He -"
"Shut up," Snape said, and took Harry to the side where they were out of Draco`s earshot. He didn`t have to ask any questions before Harry started spewing out answers.
"It was them, Professer. All of them," he said. "They harassed Hermione."
"Who?"
"All of them. Everyone who was in the common room last night. She told me everything. They carried her into the bathroom and were sticking her head down the toilet. Goyle stole her shoes. Malfoy felt her up," he said, pointing at Draco angrily. "And Raywing is supplying the male members of the house with porno mags."
"...Oh. I don`t see what that has to do with anything, but allright. Thank you. You can go."
Harry looked puzzled. "I can? Uh...thanks."
"I`m only letting you go because I owe it to you; I should have been keeping a better eye on things. Just as long as you`ll keep this stuff away from Dumbledore. Between you and me, I think he`s a bit too senile for this kind of business."
"Oh. Yeah, sure." Pause. "Wait a minute. Is this just so you can let them off easy?"
"Oh, no. These boys are going to be praying to God for mercy when I get through with them," he said, and Harry widened his eyes almost scared for his own life as Snape cracked his knuckles in a tight fist. "Well. You watch out for that girl. I don`t want to see her getting in trouble with my boys again."
Harry nodded. "Yeah. Actually I feel really responsible." He sighed, realizing he couldn`t exactly explain how this was his fault. "You`re probably wondering what she was doing in the Slytherin quarters anyway."
"Oh, I know that already. The oven broke in the Gryffindor quarters, right? Heaven forbid she be unable to supply her man with some nice butterscotch." With that he gave Harry a suggestive wink and turned to go talk to Draco, leaving Harry extremely confused but relieved.