Hello, readers! This bit is a little short, but I will have a longer bit ready this weekend or early next week – the gods of work, life, computers, and etcetera willing.
Thanks to everyone for the feedback and good crit, some of your ideas are giving me ideas! I may need to expand the plot-bunny breeding area…
I'd especially like to thank MsInvisFem for pointing out my (now fixed) boo-boo in chapter six and Zephiey for some IM inspiration. :)
Now, on with the tale…
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In the last chapter: An Innocent Bystander got too close to the fan.
In this chapter: Intermission as the players take new positions for the next barrage.
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Like Cats and Dogs
Chapter 8
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"Professor?"
No. Too tired. Go away, pretty raven.
Severus was tired. Cold, too.
Albus and Minerva had been whipsawing Miss Mayborne into an appropriately flexible state. A hard day's work – so he might have told them if he could speak. There were some arrangements to be made for Emily's accommodations and such, which Minerva unworthily took a punitive delight in ordering. Emily had swung between venting her ire at him and cajoling him into drinking some water. She even wheedled him into having some smoked salmon - quite good, that.
When Severus was simply too tired to object any further, he retreated to the bookcase and hid behind the bust of Hypatia once more.
Now with even the shouting over, Severus found himself too tired in mind and body to move.
"Professor?" The air eddied around his whiskers as Hypatia was moved, but he could not even open his eyes.
A gentle hand rested on his ribcage, then he felt himself being lifted and held against something wonderfully warm.
Very soft. Nice smell. Slow heartbeat. So warm. So nice.
"Master Filch? He's shivering…"
Rough fingers came to her worried call. "He's had a time of it, Miss. He's still shocky and might have the collywobbles for a few days."
Collywobbles? Is that a scientific term? Does it mean that I have to stay warm? Can I stay here?
Something soft and heavy draped over Severus' back, "Come with me, Miss. I want to get some medicine down him before dinner and settle him for a rest."
There were some murmurs from Albus and Minerva about see you at dinner and Flooing Emily home so she could pack some things. Severus felt fingers stroke at the back of his neck and then Emily and Filch were off. Severus dozed a bit – the warm, gentle jiggling was rather soothing.
"Put him in the basket, Miss. If you could get him by the scruff and pull his head back a bit, I'll get these down him."
Severus made a small sound of protest as Emily scruffed him - he was not some unruly kitten!
"No offense, lad, at the best of times cats are a little bolshie about taking their drops." Filch's fingers pressed at the corners of Severus' mouth. A nutrient potion was followed by something chicken-ish with a good amount of salt and green flavor to it, with the hawthorn potion coming last. Warm began to spread through him and his shivering gradually stopped. The basket was filled with something that he could curl into, so he did, curling so tightly that he could lay two inches of tail over his nose to keep it warm, too.
The fingers that had held him by the scruff were now stroking his fur and he really ought to object but he was so very, very tired and the fingers felt so ni…
~
Working out the details was trying on top of an already exhausting day.
Since Miss Mayborne would not only be substituting for Severus in Potions, but also as head of house for Slytherin, Minerva simply handed over his rooms.
Albus immediately had to reassure Severus that his personal items would simply be folded into a storage warp – never leaving his rooms, but inaccessible to anyone other than him or Albus. The wards in the dungeons would have to be reset to permit her into certain areas, including his main workroom, she would also need to be using his office.
And if Severus yowled over all of this, Emily Mayborne yowled even louder. Her life was being disrupted, her plans and comfortable existence set on its ear! The girl wanted Artemisia and home, with all the comforts of same.
Artemisia Malfoy made her displeasure known in a Howler that arrived at dinnertime. Addressed to nobody in particular, it was easily one of the most filth-ridden, scandalous, vituperative examples of such Minerva ever had the displeasure to hear. Another letter came with it, for Emily, that made the woman's eyes tear up and her lower lip wobble dangerously.
Immediately after the meal, Albus opened a Floo and Emily went back to London, intent on spending the next few nights with her partner. The headmaster also laid on a Prudissero, which Emily took with ill grace – her contract allowed for such, but none had ever seen fit to invoke the secrecy clause.
Minerva simply asked her to return three days before start of term, recognizing that to say any more was to invite a firestorm of temper.
After Miss – no – Professor Mayborne, Mistress of Potions Pro Tempore was well gone, Minerva excused herself and went to the small suite of rooms that served Argus Filch as both residence and veterinary. Filch was on rounds, and Severus was curled up in a large, blanket-filled willow basket with Mrs. Norris keeping watch over him.
Severus made a very handsome cat. The body was sleekly muscular, but still lean and slender. Jet black fur without a single white hair was short and smooth, silky enough to be slippery - there was enough of it all over her classroom as Severus had spent a good part of his energy in stress-shedding.
Minerva stroked a hand down his spine, hoping that the obstinate wizard would come to his senses sometime soon. But where Sirius Black was involved…
"Take good care of him, Mrs. Norris, our stubborn lad might be four-footed for a very long time."
~
Everything she was going to say went completely out of her head.
It had not been the best of days for Artemisia Malfoy, but her Emmy looked as if she'd been pulled through a knothole backwards and thrown in the lake.
From the time Emily had stepped into the Floo that morning, Artemisia had been uneasy. By the time that Master MacGuffin called, she had been wound tightly enough to snap – and snap she had. Fireballs were not enough to soothe her temper, she nearly dove into the Floo to throttle her superior with her bare hands! After a contretemps with Mrs. Hurtleby – executive assistant, her arse! – Missy had some time on her hands.
A Howler to the school let her blow off some steam. She also sent along a note to Emily that wasn't – quite – fair.
But to have Emmy pop out of the Floo, cursing and in tears…
I'm a cunt. Had to do the Malfoy manipulation thing, didn't I?
So now she did the most un-Malfoy thing that she could – Artemisia apologized.
It wasn't easy. The words stuck in her throat and were badly assembled, but only made Emily cry harder. It took Missy a good bit of time to figure out why – and when she did she joined Emily in a chorus of profanity.
Worse than anything, Emily hated to be bullied or manipulated - today she had been required to take a bellyful of it. Emily was one of the most easy-going, soft-spoken, gentle, placid, unpretentious people to ever draw breath.
On the flip side, Emily was also stubborn, opinionated, intractable, self-willed and had a temper that of which even Artemisia was leery. Not that her beloved blew up at trifles – she didn't – but once that slow building anger reached a critical point, it was like having an erupting volcano in the living room. Malfoy anger was glacial cold – Mayborne anger was Kilauea.
From what Artemisia could make out between the tears and curses was that she had been press-ganged into this, did not want to do it, and that the parentage of all those individuals who had conspired to emplace her in this situation was sorely in question. Furthermore, she wanted to find the person of problematic hygiene who had come up with the Prudissero charm and remove his tonsils via his alimentary canal.
"Prudissero? Why? There's never been any question concerning your discretion!" Missy cuddled Emily's head to her chest. "There's never been any problems, not one!"
"Snape. Damn Snape." Emily sniffled and honked her nose into her handkerchief.
"Bastard! I'll have his balls on toast points! How dare he…!"
Emily tried to find words. "No. Not he… gone… quarrel… not he who… ARGH!"
"Let me try. Snape didn't put the Prudissero on you?"
"Right."
"He's not at the school, which is why you're to be teaching. You'll be taking his place while he…"
Emily shook her head. Damn! That was a tight spell.
"He had a quarrel with Dumbledore?" Missy tried again.
"No."
"With someone else?"
"Yes."
"And he's gone to settle it?"
Another head shake a nod and Emily rubbed at her temple. A well-cast Prudiserro was bloody hard to circumvent – so, until she could winkle out more information on her own, Artemisia would leave be. She had Emily all to herself for the next three days - and planned to make those three days so sweetly memorable that Emily would arrive at Hogwarts with a dreamy, satisfied smile on her pretty face.
~
If there was ever an apt metaphor for being in trouble with one's significant other, it was 'in the doghouse.'
If Sirius – now known as Toffee the Border Collie – was to be any more in the doghouse, he'd be sleeping out of doors.
Remus was that pissed.
The whole way back to their rooms – not a word.
Once that door closed – Ragnarok.
"BLOODY FUCKING HELL, PADFOOT --- NO CONSIDERATION --- NO MATURITY --- EVERYTHING'S A JOKE --- COULD HAVE KILLED HIM --- YOU'RE NO BETTER THAN SEVERUS --- PERPETUAL ADOLESCENCE --- OUGHT TO BE ASHAMED --- JUST WAIT 'TIL I GET HOLD OF HIM --- THE MOST STUNNING EXAMPLE OF MUTUAL IDIOCY I'VE EVER SEEN IN MY ENTIRE LIFE --- PINHEADS --- DOLTS --- MORONS --- WHAT WERE YOU THINKING --- WHAT WERE YOU SMOKING --- GET OVER YOURSELVES AND GROW THE HELL UP!"
A flick of a wand and a full water dish and food bowl heaped with chicken appeared in one corner. Another flick and the door had smaller Border Collie-sized door set into it. The wand waved a third time and a massive, round cushion popped into existence next to what had been Sirius' favorite chair.
A dog bed? Moony, you can't be meaning to…
One whiff of Moony told Sirius that oh yes, he was meaning to. Tired, angry, and still feeling the effects of transformation, his friend smelled like a brewing thunderstorm. With his tail and head low, Sirius went to the bed. He turned once, twice, three times and then lay down as meekly as he could.
Passing a hand over a face grey with fatigue, Remus sighed. "I'm going back to bed, Sirius. I'll figure out how to deal with this later. The two of you better settle this and do it quick because I have no idea how to explain this to Harry."
With that, Remus went into the bedroom and shut the door, leaving Sirius alone with his thoughts.
Why had he done it? Sirius knew it was wrong, but he had done it anyway. There was no excuse that it was a fine joke – that excuse was decades old and just as invalid now as it had been then. Why? Why was it always so out of control when it came to Whisp? Words exploded. Any situation that required the two of them to interact would – in mildest case - take a turn for the worse or erupt in total chaos and mayhem.
And where in hell had Severus found the spell he used on Sirius?
Hmph. Everyone is blaming me for this one. There are two collars, two spells, and two… utter fuckwits.
Well, yes.
Sirius sighed. There was nothing to be done right now. Severus was in custody and might not be available for some time. Between Dumbledore, McGonagall, and Filch…
Poor bastard. If he didn't deserve it, I'd have to pity him. Then again, what does that say about what I deserve?
Sirius made up his mind to do the canine thing – when there's nothing else you can do, nap. He'd see Severus when he saw Severus, and until then there was little sense in worrying about it.
~
TBC
