Chapter 7
by Stryfechild
Severus Snape was fuming. Not only had his informant failed him, but he made a very public display of his displeasure. Sighing, he rubbed at his temples. He would need to brew some more headache potions before very long if things continued as they were. Honestly! An Auror being caught with a simple memory charm!
If Severus was honest with himself, he would have to admit that his anger had been simmering since his argument with the Potter brat. Vincent's failure had just brought it back to a boil. Because truthfully, the thought of the boy…no if he was going to be honest he never had a chance to be a boy…the man actually dying made his heart twinge! And that was a reaction Severus did not want to examine. Would it be so awful to admit maybe you don't despise him as much as you say? Yes! It would. Because I do! Bloody brilliant! Now I'm hearing voices. If this keeps up they'll be locking me up in St. Mungo's.
He stalked over to a cabinet and downed a vial of headache potion before flopping down on his couch. He had to figure this out soon for his own mental health, but for the time being he would content himself with plotting his revenge against the meddling old man who called himself his friend.
Minerva McGonagall threw her partner an odd look. He was fidgeting, visibly, and this intrigued her. Albus didn't fidget…at least not so that people could see him. "Is everything alright Albus?"
"Hmm? Oh yes my dear. Everything is fine." In all honesty, Albus couldn't stand this enforced stricture against him. The mysterious wedding had his curiosity peaked, and not being able to do anything about it was driving him up the walls. It was like an itch he couldn't scratch. And he started fidgeting again.
"That does it! Something is wrong. You…never…fidget."
He sighed, "It's just this wedding…"
"This again? Really Albus! The castle tells you, in a dream, you couldn't meddle?!" She shook her head in disbelief.
"You'll understand when the school comes under your care my dear." She merely looked at him with skepticism in her eyes. We had better figure this out soon, for the sake his mental health.
Harry rolled over and slowly blinked his eyes. The mystery of the wedding and the fight with Snape had left him rather drained and he had decided to take a nap in the hopes that this was all some very bad dream. He reached for his glasses and put them on. The first thing he saw was the wedding invitation sitting on the bedside table. No such luck. It was then that his brain registered what else it saw. There, sitting neatly on the chair next to the window, were the things he had left at the Dursleys', his invisibility cloak hung nicely across the back of the chair. Bloody hell! This can not be possible. He pinched himself and the pain that shot up his arm told him this wasn't a dream. Somehow his things had been brought back to him. His first thought was that somehow Ron or Hermione had gotten them. Harry swung out of bed and pulled on a pair of sweats. He walked into the living room and over to the fireplace. "Incendio." He grabbed some powder and threw it on the flames. "Ron Weasley."
"Hey mate, what's going on?"
"Ron did you or Hermione get my things from my relatives?"
Ron frowned. "No Harry, 'Mione and I have been here since we last saw you. Why do you ask?"
Harry returned Ron's answer with a frown of his own. "Because everything I left there is now here." He started chewing on his lip in thought.
Ron's eyes went wide. "Bloody he-"
"RONALD WEASLEY!" Harry saw Ron jump slightly and turn away from him. "Sorry Mum."
Harry couldn't help but chuckle at his friend's plight. Poor Ron. "You'd better go apologize properly mate." With that Harry closed the connection and walked back into the bed room. Sitting on the bed he stared at his things wondering who could possibly have gotten them, and gotten into his flat, without him knowing. The more he thought about it, the more he could feel the forming headache. He had to figure this out soon for the sake of his own mental health.
Rowena sat behind the desk in the small room and stared at the parchment in front of her. Men are utterly hopeless. Salazar's seating chart had been quickly discarded. If he had had his way, the Gryffindors and the Slytherins would be having a staring contest across the room while there were supposed to be a wedding and reception happening. She and Helga had decided that the men were no longer allowed near the preparations. Their tasks now rested solely with keeping track of the participants, trying to delay Riddle as much as possible, and of course doing anything she and Helga decided needed doing.
"How's it coming?"
She looked up when the voice broke her concentration. "Just fine. How's Harry taking the reappearance of his things? Honestly Godric have you no subtlety? I thought you wanted your heir in one piece for this wedding."
The Gryffindor smiled sheepishly. "I didn't think he would react quite as he did. But you don't need to worry about that. You have enough on your hands with the wedding to plan. Sal is covering Severus, I have Harry, Helga is dealing with the old fool, and thankfully Tom has been quiet since the attempt on Harry's life. Speaking of which, I had best get back to Harry watching."
With those last words he faded out. Rowena sighed and rested her head in her hands; this was not how things were supposed to go. Rubbing the back of her neck, she realized she had the perfect advertisement for death…it saved you from the migraines.