"The Prophecies"
"Scourgify," she muttered glumly, banishing the small area of filth into nothingness. "Thoroughly, dang it, thoroughly."
"I think," Snape said deeply, clearing his throat. "You might have to put a bit more heart into it if you want to achieve greater results, Sibilus."
"For the last time, it's Sibyll, Mr Snape. And I get paid by the hour."
"Well…" Snape suddenly remembered that he had come here for her help, and figured that the best way to receive it wouldn't be in exchange for insults. But he just couldn't help it. "Well, good to see you're doing a better job than you did at Hogwarts."
She stopped waving her wand in a foolish attempt to appear a bit serious. Her eyes glared at him steadily from behind her thick glasses. When she spoke, her voice was back to being light and airy instead of drawn and angry. "Professor, I find that your aura is causing discord in my environment."
Snape chose to ignore her former comment. "Look, the only reason I'm here is to ask for your help. For Dumbledore's sake."
"I believe that Dumbledore's sake is only of your own."
Snape sighed, wishing that he had his wand. "No. But Dumbledore told me that you were actually right, sometimes." He gritted his teeth, preparing to brace himself for what he was to say, next. "And I need you to…tell me where to go."
He saw, with disappointment, that a faint but triumphant smile was tugging at the corners of Trelawney's lips.
"I would say I am surprised to hear you ask this, but, of course, I am not."
Snape tried as hard as he could not to roll his eyes, instead attempting to explain his position. "Well, that Umbridge woman has cursed a student…" The name had caused the desired effect, as the woman's face became exceptionally hard. "And Dumbledore has placed it upon me to find the counter-curse, as it is previously unheard of. I was wondering if you would have any tips on finding her."
Trelawney paced slowly over to him, her robes gliding grossly across the layer of droppings. She looked angry and enthused all at the same time. "Umbridge." The name was like poison from her mouth. Surely, the remembrance of her sacking (and Dumbledore's reconsideration of taking her back) had not faded after the past two years. "I will help, as long as it leads to that woman's destruction. But I must know more to make completely…accurate predictions."
Snape crossed his arms nervously, about to lean against the circular wall but thinking twice about it. He settled on rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet. "What do you need to know?"
"My inner eye has become slightly hazy…through no fault of my own." She gazed up at the tall ceiling of the Owlery, misty eyed. Then her sense of mysterious other-worldliness disappeared and she started checking off a list of objects on her fingers. "First, I must know the name of the afflicted…"
"Hermione Granger," he answered quickly, not letting the tone of his voice falter the tiniest bit.
Trelawney looked a bit surprised, and he knew for sure that she hadn't seen that coming. "And your relationship with this student?"
Severus lowered his eyebrows dangerously, mocking the gesture of reaching for his wand, which was being held by someone other than him. He really didn't like the thought of other people handling his most private object. "Student-teacher relationship, strictly."
"Oh…I don't think so." The smile was most definitely there now, and Snape had the sudden urge to rip her so-called "Inner Eye" completely out of its non-existent socket. "There must be more than that, otherwise you wouldn't be the one looking for Umbridge. Now tell me, otherwise I will not be able to tell you what you need to know."
Somehow, Snape could sense that she really didn't need to know this bit of information. But he didn't want to take his chances, as his new teaching position still hung in the balance.
So he spoke, choosing his words carefully. "Dumbledore has arranged amaiafnlsell…"
Trelawney cleared her throat in an expression annoyingly similar to Umbridge's. "Excuse me?"
"I said," Snape said clearly, then immediately quieting his voice. "Dumbledore has arranged our marriage…"
She clapped her hands loudly in genuine enthusiasm, her laughter evident in the echo off the round walls. "I knew it! I knew it!"
"Of course you did," Snape muttered, his eyebrows now lowered as far as they could possibly go and the edge in his voice intensifying. "You know everything."
"But of course," she sniffed, wiping away the trace of tears from her eyes while trying to suppress another giggle. "Dumbledore has completely lost his marbles, hasn't he?"
"I thought you would have known that, already." Yes, it was true. It was. Otherwise, he wouldn't be here right now, bargaining with a faux-Seer for a student of his to become his wife and lover, even if that did contain a new teaching career. "And as he is my employer, I have no choice but to calmly and indifferently listen to any criticism of him, so I cannot acquiesce to answer your question."
"Always such big words, Severus," she said with a shake of her head. "Though I predicted you would be using them, so I looked them up in this wonderful thing called a "dictionary" before I arrived for work this morning…"
Snape did the best he could not to wring her neck. He knew he could hurt someone without magic, but she was still a woman. Even if she did deserve to die at the moment.
"Sibyll, please just tell me what I need to do."
She placed a hand underneath her chin, trying to feign a look of perplexity. She was actually doing quite a good job, as her eyes soon clouded over again and her mouth became slack. "Go see a Weasley."
"Um…excuse me?"
"Weasley…"
Crap. Weasley? That had been the last family he had wanted to run into, and now he had to go looking for one of them. What kind of witch's brew had this woman been sampling lately?
"All right, then…" Snape began to carefully walk for the door, gritting his teeth to hold back the stream of curse-words that wanted to escape.
"Oh, and Severus, I hope you'll be a good father, for I see you and Hermione giving birth to at least ten children."
He shuddered. "I believe that is incorrect, as I am determined to have Dumbledore's plans foiled, thank you very much. Nor will I ever, with anyone, have ten…"
"And," she added with a bit of an absent-minded smile. "You will have an amazing se-"
Severus didn't wait for her to continue. Instead, he had slammed the door shut mid-sentence and was quickly making his way toward the lifts, trying to purge his mind from inappropriate thoughts of Hermione Granger.
It wasn't working.
§
The lift came to a noisy stop, the gates grinding slightly as they opened, glinting in the sunlight coming from the artificial windows. The cool female voice said, "Level Two, Department of Magical Law Enforcement, including the Improper Use of Magic Office, Auror Headquarters, and Wizengamot Administration Services.
Severus stepped out of the lift, feeling the grates immediately shut behind him. Each footfall was careful, each breath taken deeply, as he felt himself becoming closer and closer to the doom of his conceit. Conversing with a Weasley was something he had come to loathe, especially if it involved that boy, Percy, or any of his miniatures. But they were friends of Hermione.
And, he supposed, any friend of Hermione's would eventually have to be a friend of his.
Bloody Dumbledore.
He ignored the curious stares that followed him as he swept gracefully across the floor, repeatedly doused in artificial sunlight from the fake windows. He couldn't help feeling a bit out of place, though he knew he would never admit the evidence of that feeling to anyone, in his sweeping black robes and solemn demeanor. The babble that surrounded him was cheerful and welcoming, and he even got a tiny wave from a wizard he vaguely recognized.
He walked past the Auror offices to the other side of the level, slowing his pace as much as possible to prolong the time before he ran into Weasley. But to his misfortune, neither an anvil nor an unidentified flying object fell on him as he made his way through the building.
He gritted his teeth as he slowly stopped at a cubicle that had every inch of the corkboard walls taken up by posters and diagrams of various Muggle appliances and electronics. A toy aeroplane was in pieces on the desk, black plastic parts spread over the little clean space that remained. Crammed up against the wall was a photograph of the Weasley family, all members slumped against each other, asleep. The youngest, Ginny, was curled up on the floor like a cat at Ron's feet, breathing deeply.
Arthur Weasley was scribbling down notes on a piece of parchment, and snapped around immediately when Snape cleared his throat.
Though Mr Weasley was several years his senior, he had the youthful energy and naivety of many of Severus's students. His bright red hair, the family trademark, was combed over in back to barely hide the shining pink spot of skin. His pointed black hat lay on his desk, forgotten.
"Why, Professor," he said good-naturedly, though Snape could detect a bit of anxiousness. "You're the last person I expected to see. What brought you to the ministry?"
Weasley scrambled to his feet, probably in order not to feel dwarfed by Severus, though even standing the height difference was quite intimidating.
Severus leaned forward, hoping his pale face wasn't showing any hints of red. "Someone told me that you could help me. I'm looking for Umbridge."
The entire office space fell quiet; the rustling of the parchment stopped and the voices died mid-word. Snape peeked over the wall of the cubical to see that everyone was staring toward them, looks of horror written across their face.
Wide eyes were prominent as Weasley gave a nervous laugh and said loudly. "A bridge? Really, Professor, you live in Scotland! I thought you would know where the Firth of Fourth bridge is…"
After an incredibly long period of two seconds, the employees averted their eyes in disinterest and went back to work. Mr Weasley let out an uncomfortable sigh. Eyeing Snape evilly, he leaned close and whispered, "I advise you not to say that name around here. She has done some very unsavory things concerning payment in this department, and in the all around Ministry. So unless you want to get mobbed…"
Snape nodded coldly. "I understand, but the paychecks for employees of the Ministry do not concern me. I need to find her."
Arthur crossed his arms across his chest, biting his lip and thinking heavily. "No one around here has seen her for a number of months. We assumed she died or something of that manner. Or finally went off the deep-end…more so…from that centaur attack back a few years ago."
"I assure you that she has been quite mad for many decades," Snape said impatiently. "But I do not care. I still need to find her."
Arthur paused, looking at him with suspicion in his gaze. "Why, exactly?"
"My business is my own."
"Well, that depends." He sat back down in his chair, clearly more comfortable with the dark man than he had been moments before. "If your needs in finding her concern us, and in a negative way, I don't think…"
"My attentions," Snape furiously interrupted, now failing to keep his cool. "are the equivalent to anyone's in this Ministry. For Merlin's sake, do not for a minute think that I'm interested in courting her…"
The mood suddenly lightened, and for the first time Severus could remember, he had made someone laugh.
"Merlin's beard, no!" Arthur said, fighting off a fit of chuckles. "I expect more of you then that, Professor."
"I would certainly hope so," Snape replied with a sniff.
The chuckles died away and Weasley's tone became serious yet again. "I'll tell you what. I can help you, or at least I know someone who can. Come have dinner at the Burrow with us tonight, and we can discuss it more there."
Snape tried to hold back a grimace, but instead hesitantly agreed. "All-all right."
"Good." Weasley gave a loud sigh. "Now, in the mean time, can you help me figure out this aero-thing? Muggle transportation completely baffles me…"
§
The Burrow was crowded and teeming with odd things that Snape had never seen in his own home, a cold stone manor in the Lake District. But the small town of Ottery St. Catchpole was quiet and teeming with the mysterious, this feeling mostly centering in the bustling Weasley home. The grass in the yards rustled sporadically with the random escaped gnome, the windows twinkled merrily in the dusky night.
At least, Snape thought, he had his wand back.
Snape had to admit that dinner was delicious; Mrs Weasley was a better cook than anyone (perhaps besides her husband) gave her credit for. The turkey with the garlic sauce was better than anything he had tasted at Hogwarts, which was a rare defeat. The company, however, was somewhat lacking.
For the first half of the meal, the Weasleys acted like he wasn't there, even though his black hair stood out greatly among the six other fiery heads at the table. Arthur Weasley sat at the end of the table near the door, his wife his opposite, while Severus was flanked by Bill and Charlie. On the other side of the table from him sat the smirking twins.
During the first fifteen minutes, conversation centered mainly around Mrs Weasley's scorn of the twins and their joke shop, which had just opened in Diagon Alley. Fred (or was it George?) argued that business was going well, while their mother countered with the knowledge that people with that kind of career would never find a respectable position in society.
"Come on, Mum," Fred/George said with a hint of a whine, while Severus tried to act extremely interested in rolling a pea across his plate. "It's not like we're going to end up dead in a shady café for selling someone an overpriced Skiving Snackbox."
"Well, I'd like to see you say that at your funeral," she shot back testily, giving them a glare that could set water aflame.
Mr Weasley hurriedly cleared his throat, shooting Snape an apologetic glance. "Charlie, didn't you say you saw someone resembling Umbridge sometime back?"
The table fell quiet, and Severus felt all eyes turning to him. He coughed a bit uncomfortably and looked up from his plate.
Charlie sounded unsure of himself. "Yeah…I thought I saw a glimpse of her in Normandy about a month ago, when I was reassigned to France. I don't know if she's still there, though."
Everyone stared at Snape as he finally said something for the first time after entering the house. "I desperately need to find her."
"I forgot to ask again, Professor," Mr Weasley added. "Why, exactly, do you need to?"
"She cursed a student," Snape brusquely answered. "And we don't know how to lift it. That's why I must find her."
There was a moment of silence, broken by Fred/George whispering, "Who?"
Severus swallowed, buying his time and considering whether or not he should tell them. He was surprised they hadn't known already, with having Ron and Potter as a connection in Hogwarts. Harry knew, for certain. And Ron, most likely, did, too. Maybe no one else knew? That was unlikely, with a bigmouth like Malfoy, it was bound to leak out somewhere. There probably wasn't one soul who didn't know within the castle walls.
"Hermione Granger," he said quickly.
The occupants of the table gasped, while Bill said, "Old 'Mione? Now why would Umbridge do that?"
"That is my own business," Snape answered with a sniff. "But, as I can see that you care for the girl, is why I request your assistance in finding that awful woman."
They shrugged off his refusal to answer why he was looking for her, to his relief, and started to arrange for him to leave with Charlie to Normandy the next morning.
"Well," Snape sighed quietly, getting up from the table. "I thank you for helping me, but I must get back to Hogwarts to sleep for the night and pack my things."
"Nonsense," Mrs Weasley interjected, standing up so fast that she knocked her chair to the floor. "You can stay with us for the night, it's too late to head out now. Ron's pyjamas should fit you, and you lot can get your things in the morning."
"But…"
Mrs Weasley's eyes flashed dangerously. "I won't take no for an answer."
§
Snape sneered at the walls of Ron Weasley's room, taking in the violent orange of every single piece of décor. He had only been in there for five seconds and he was already beginning to suffer from an aggressive headache.
"Good night, Severus." Mrs Weasley said quickly, shutting the door.
He walked around a bit, ducking under the low, sloping ceiling as his eyes grazed over the numerous Chudley Canon posters. Eyes blinked blankly back at him, not deeming him worthy of a smile or a wave.
Severus eyed his greatest enemy yet, the pair of pyjamas lying on the bed, the shade almost blending in with the smooth sheets. There was no way he would wear those…
But he had to consider the options. It was too late to Apparate back to Hogwarts, and he was too tired. He would probably wander into the lake while looking for the Quidditch pitch. Unless he wanted to go out and sleep in the yard, or on the couch where anyone (everyone!) could see him, the privacy of the room, no matter how ugly the colour, was inviting.
And there was no way he could sleep in his bulky, uncomfortable school robes. It was either the pyjamas, or sleeping in the nude.
He surrendered to his logical sense of mind. He sunk down into the unusually soft bed, admitting to feeling quite cozy and warm, and blew the candle out.
"Hermione," he whispered before falling asleep. "If you could see what I am doing for you."
His final thoughts were that if she did, she would probably burst out laughing.
A/N: Moi, thanks for pointing that out. I was going to check, but I forgot. Though I do believe you could have been a bit nicer about it.
It is now corrected and with .07% more humor.
Thanks to: Pas Moi (for sticking up for me! It was a mistake to start off with, but I fixed it. But s/he was a bit redundant and mean, wasn't s/he? And again, thanks for sticking up for me! I appreciate it), nightcrawler7082 (I would miss him in Potions, too), aPPle-FrrEAk, KDarkMaiden, micha~, Electryone (hm, hopefully next chapter will have a bit, it's kind of hard since she's sort of out of it), whyMMM, DarkShadowFlame, piper, aPPle-FrrEAk, Voldie On Varsity Track, Silent Cobra, Cassandra22 (a little encouragement can go a long way, as we'll see), Aindel S. Druida, JoeBob1379, willow-nymph, Meriadoc / Celithrathien (he always gets what's coming to him, doesn't he?), larson, Romm, the soul cage (you are such a great and constant reviewer of everything! I admire you.), and Leah (The Speech? I referenced something I know nothing about? Weird. What is it? I think I did it accidentally).
Please tell me what you think of this (extra-long) chapter and review!
