Chapter Five: With A Little Help From My Friends

Snape detested going to the annual Yule Ball. He hated the politeness, the dancing, usually the music, the punch, which always seemed far too sweet for human consumption, and the complete and total lack of good company. He finished buttoning his dress robes, which were, of course, black, and looked disdainfully at the tiny gray owl that was perching on his elbow.

"Hoot," it announced, looking rather proud of itself. "Hoot."

Severus recognized the owl well enough. It was called Lodgy and it belonged to Albus Dumbledore, being the Tylers' idea of a good present that wasn't socks. That morning it had been asleep in the Christmas tree. Privately, Snape thought that putting the little owl there was a stroke of presentative genius. With uncharacteristic kindness, he picked a bit of roast beef out of the sandwich Winky had brought him and fed it to the little bird.

Lodgy hooted happily and held out his leg for Severus to take the note. He then proceeded to rub his feathery, downy-soft head against the professor's cheek a few times before flying off. Snape frowned only slightly at the bird's endearment, than actually smiled after reading the note. It read simply:

'Severus,
            John and Cass will be at the Ball tonight. Hope the idea of actual conversation there cheers you up. Happy Christmas,
                        -Albus'

Considering the indignity he had subjected himself to in obtaining their Christmas gift, Severus was actively looking forward to seeing the Tylers again. In accordance with Albus' command to make a friend, he was making the effort not to alienate the Americans, for indeed; they seemed the most likely people to be friends with, considering they were the least annoying ones.

One of Cassandra Tyler's more endearing characteristics was her tendency to display her affections openly, kissing her husband in the middle of a tactical discussion of the Riddle house, grinning broadly and chirping with joy when Severus showed her his signed copy of Oscar Wilde's plays, and sighing ecstatically when John retired to the piano in the study and played favorite songs as she and Snape wrote the plans out. It seemed odd that John Tyler could draw almost photographically, in that he never seemed to write anything. Severus had questioned both of them separately about their backgrounds, and it seemed that the American werewolves shared similar tastes in and genuinely adored music. John played the piano and several other instruments, while Cass owned a beat-up guitar covered in autographs. His idea had been to obtain a good recording of one of their favorites, which necessitated the aid of one with an actual grasp of Muggle music to find such a thing.

And naturally, the Muggle Studies teacher had promptly left to have a baby. How inconsiderate. Snape considered asking one of the Slytherins, but the threat of a Death Eater relative finding out that 'Professor Snape's started collecting Muggle things' was far too great. That left him with one person, whom he'd rather have died than ask –Minerva McGonagall.

"I'm sorry, Severus," she had told him, sounding genuinely sorry. "I promised Sprout I would help her find a present for Flitwick. We're going to be in Diagon Alley for God knows how long –you know how Rosie is with shopping."

"I understand."

"I do know someone who could help you, though, -and you can take the train into London with us! Shall I ask her?"

"Yes, thank you," Severus had sighed, relieved. Minerva had stepped to the fireplace and thrown a bit of Floo powder in.

"Hermione?" she called. Severus had restrained a cringe.

And so it was that Severus Snape and Hermione Granger had been forced by fate and the custom of Christmas gifts to spend two hours in the London Virgin Megastore. The name of the establishment has given poor Snape a momentary start, and fortunately Miss Granger had had the grace not to laugh at him. Actually, she had proved as enchanting in the Muggle world as she was intelligent in the Potions lab.

"Does Mrs. Tyler like the Beatles? This one would do well," she suggested, holding up a brightly colored CD.

"I don't know...she seemed to like a particular song John played the best..."

"Which?"

"That would be the problem, Miss Granger, I don't know the name of it."

"Oh," Hermione seemed a bit startled by this. "Well, do you remember how it went at all, or a few lyrics?"

For a moment Snape stood, thinking of how the particular melody had gone. Then, with a perfectly straight face, he began to whistle it. Hermione, surprised only for a moment, listened for a few bars and then joined him in whistling, trying to remember the name of the tune. For a few moments, they faced each other with a growing smile on Hermione's face. Suddenly a passing crowd of holiday shoppers jostled them together, chests meeting and lips barely an inch apart as the startled girl looked up. Reflexively Severus closed his arms around her to keep her from falling, and as the crowd passed they looked into each other's eyes.

Hers were a soft cinnamon brown, and as shocked as she seemed –as she had to be, Severus was surprised to see a mischievous sparkle. She didn't mind this and was enjoying his company!

His eyes were black, like obsidian, and where Hermione had always assumed they would be icy cold, his were full of innocent surprise. She smiled, and he half-smiled almost shyly, before she whispered,

"The look of love."

"What?" Snape asked, having nearly had his black hair shocked white.

"The song, it's 'The Look of Love' -by Dusty Springfield, I believe."

"Oh!"

In the end they wound up buying Harry Nilsson's Greatest Hits. It seemed safer.

What had taken the lesser part of the two hours was Hermione's present to Ron Weasley. She chose what would was for her a perfectly ordinary Muggle headphones and transistor wireless, which to a wizard would be downright fascinating. She then proceeded to explain how Muggle broadcast waves worked in lavish detail after Severus inquired why the antenna wasn't wood.

"Wizarding wireless works with an antenna similar to a wand, correct? Muggles' is based on waves of energy moving at a different frequency, which requires a metal antenna to pick them up."

"You mean they're shooting electricity through the air?" Severus asked in shock. Maybe that explained her bushy hair.

"Er, not quite, they just- radio waves are just in the air, they aren't strong enough to hurt us or even be felt. But look over here," Hermione pulled him over to a wall of televisions. There was a weird feeling they seemed almost to give off. "Tellys you can sort of feel, that's from the ion cathode vacuum tubes."

"The what?"

"Professor, did you even take Muggle Studies class?"

"No. Merlin's balls!" There was a huge explosion what seemed like inches from his face. Hermione managed to stop him from dragging her to the ground.

"That's just the new large-screen HD-TV, Professor." She was biting her lip trying not to laugh. Rather than act as offended as he felt, Severus took the diplomatic route and reached over to touch the shiny glass screen.

It prickled and felt on the whole rather nice. Snape began feeling the other screens, fascinated.

Unable to restrain her sense of mischief any longer, Hermione reached over and brushed her hand across four smaller-screen TVs. She then touched her Professor on the ear.

"Ow!" Snape nearly jumped out of the black Muggle clothes he had Transfigered his robes into. "Circe's garters, what was that, Hermione?"

"Static electricity," she giggled. "I'm sorry to shock you that way-"

And she was gone. The speech about shocking had been unintentional and most unfortunate. Snape actually managed to blush and smile a little bit, mostly because with her hair awry Hermione looked so funny.

When had he started thinking of her as Hermione?

Just then, they were cheerfully interrupted by the perkiest, blondest, most peppy salesgirl since the movie 'Bring It On' came out in England.

"Can I help you and your wife find anything?"

Strangled sounds began to escape from Snape's throat:

"Guh, I –we, uh, she's-"

"JUST LOOKING!" Hermione announced. With a perky and faintly manic little smile, the salesgirl disappeared. The student turned on her professor as if he was hurt. "You alright?"

"What was that creature?" he inquired, still horrified that any human could have a smile that wide. Honestly, it had looked as if her head was about to split. Hermione shook her head sadly.

"That creature would be a salesgirl, Professor. Ravenous things, they delight in accosting unsuspecting customers, mostly to actually be helpful, but also to keep people from nicking things. You have to know the magic words to neutralize the hunting instinct, then they go on their way."

"That's why the 'just looking'?" he asked. She nodded seriously. "So that's what the love child of a house-elf and Lockhart would be like."

Hermione really enjoyed that joke, and they both were laughing when she suddenly went white as a ghost. "What is it?" Snape asked, startled by the change.

"Oh, my sainted aunt!" Hermione cried. "Professor, you realize you just made a joke?"

"I hardly think that is-" he began snarkily.

"Really, are you alright? Do you need to lie down?"

Snape glared at her until he realized she was still smiling. With a heavy sigh it had taken years of teaching to perfect, bent so that he and his student were eye-to-eye.

"Tell Potter and Weasley about this and you'll be making willow bark tea for the rest of term."

Hermione, still smiling, agreed to that.

"Ron wouldn't understand salesgirls anyway."

Three racks over, in the childrens' films section, Cass gave the perky salesgirl a ten-pound note.

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As unobtrusively as he could, Snape entered the Great Hall, only to be greeted by a severely happy house-elf and escorted to his place at one of the multitude of round tables set up especially for the ball. He read his own name on his placecard and noticed that the Tylers were to be seated at his right. Perfect. The centerpieces on the tables were miniature living Christmas trees with presents underneath, so he simply added the carefully wrapped gift to the heap already there. The pocket guide to common potions ingredients in unrefined form he had gotten as an afterthought, sort of to thank Miss Granger for her help, he also placed under the tree. The house-elves would sort it out. He noticed a squarish present wrapped in paper resembling shiny hematite and tied with a black velvet ribbon. It was so out-of-place among all the brightly-colored or more conventionally sparkly ones that he checked the tag.

It was for him. He placed it back under the little tree with curiosity starting to perk up for the first Christmas since he was ten or so. Who had sent it and what could it possibly be?

As soon as the feeling had risen it fell again. It was either from Albus, Lucius Malfoy, or the other faculty as a collective. He had no real friends. Who was he kidding?

Just then John Tyler arrived and took his place next to Severus. He was dressed in mostly black also, but with a white, yellow, green and blue tartan sash.

"Your students have abducted my wife, Severus," he announced quietly.

"What?"

"The red and yellow ones, the girl ones."

"The Gryffindors."

"Yep. Well, your deputy headmistress assigned all of the guests to dormitories to get changed for the ball in, and Cass got assigned to the Gryffindors."

"Merlin help her. How is she liking the dunderheads?"

"She likes 'em. Female bonding and all of that."

This was a very long speech for John. He was normally so close-mouthed people wondered if he could talk. Severus was stricken by a momentary mental picture of Cass being crowned Queen of the Gryffindors and borne into the Hall in a red and gold chariot. The only part of it that kept him from being stricken also by projectile vomiting was the image of Potter and Weasley pulling it like horses. "She's here," John observed in an almost reverent tone, rising from his seat to greet his wife and the two females who accompanied her.

Severus rose also, as was proper when ladies came to the table, and to his horror and surprise –mostly surprise, though- recognized Virginia Weasley as one of the two students. In the flowing, antique-cut dress robes she had chosen, Ginny looked like a Greek goddess, aphrodite as viewed by Titian, perhaps. The youngest Weasley being so far the only one Severus liked, he was moderately less than furious to see her. Then his eyes fell on the other female.

If Ginny was Aphrodite tonight, then the creature standing next to her was Athena. It was she, his know-it-all student who alone in the school shared his love of Potions and a good library! The fact that Lodgy's brother Hayward was trying to bite her earring off only added to her image as the wisest of goddesses. Hermione gently plucked the little owl from her shoulder and petted his head as he perched on her two fingers, which, Severus noticed, still had inkblots on them from the amount of writing she did. He couldn't for the life of him remember why he wasn't supposed to fancy her.

"Professor?" Ginny inquired suddenly. That was why! She was his student, damn it all, how had he forgotten? Gods, what was Albus putting in that eggnog?

"Yes, Miss Weasley?"

"Oh, call me Ginny. I was just wondering if you agreed with Mrs. Tyler's-"

"Cass!" the Auror reminded gently.

"Cass' suggestion about the seating," Ginny finished.

"Seating?"

"Yes, Severus, I thought John and I would switch and Ginny could be next to Hermione. That way everybody can pass the vegetables they don't like to the left."

Severus was startled by this peculiar logic, especially when he realized that that arrangement put Hermione at his side.

"Well, I suppose-"

"Okay," Cass switched with John, stealing a kiss along the way.

"This isn't-" Severus started to protest, meaning to ask what students were doing at their table.

"No, this isn't the arrangement according to the place cards, but I don't think the elfies will mind a little breaking of social custom." Snape tried again:

"I must point out to you that-"

"I must point out to you that foolish consistency is the hobgoblin of little minds!"

"Emerson!" Hermione cried ecstatically.

"Pardon?" John asked, having just looked up from peeking under the tiny tree.

"Ralph Waldo Emerson, born 1803, died 1882," Snape explained absently.

"You've read Emerson, Professor?" Hermione inquired, surprised.

"Yes, actually. He had some very interesting essays published about the time of the American Transcendentalists."

"Personally, I thought the Transcendentalist ideals were better reflected in the Bohemian revolution of the late eighteenth and early nineteenth centuries in Europe," Cass remarked with a wink to Ginny, noting that everyone was seated as she had planned.

"Leave it to the American to be a Europhile," Snape remarked just a bit acidly. "Name me one Bohemian who lived to be older than fifty."

"Oscar Wilde," Hermione offered. Severus looked at her in amazement; she had just shot down one of his favorite historical arguments. "Well, technically he was more a Bohemian sympathizer than a true –what did they call them then?"

"Children of the Revolution," Cass supplied.

"Yes, I noticed once he was in a painting by Toulouse-Lautrec and after I researched it a bit I found out he visited Montmartre frequently." Hermione seemed to not find this pronouncement very extraordinary, but Severus was amazed.

"That wouldn't be in the Hogwarts library, Hermione."

He had used her name again! He resisted the temptation to smack himself in the forehead.

"I've always been something of a showoff know-it-all," she admitted artlessly. "My father used to take me to the library as a treat."

"My father took me to the Muggle department store as a treat," Ginny remarked wryly.

"My father lived in a library," Cass smiled. "Professors are like that."

"Hermione stayed overnight in the library once," Ginny revealed. "Filch was furious."

"The Germans would call her 'Professorin,'" John recalled.

"Where have I heard that term before?" Ginny asked.

"Its presence in literature dates to the time of the American Transcendentalists," Cass remarked, causing Ginny to grin almost secretively.

"Wasn't Nate Hawthorne a depressing sod?" Albus Dumbledore inquired suddenly, sweeping up behind Severus. "Ah, ladies. How are you this evening?"

"Ginny and Hermione made me very welcome here," Cass smiled quietly.

Suddenly Severus got the impression that her bold demeanor was as much a charade as Narcissa Malfoy's snobbiness. She had been friendless at some point –he wondered when. It all made sense now why she was drawn to Ginny and Hermione, the latter especially. Both of them were know-it-alls, Muggle-borns and unconventionally pretty, which meant awkwardness before maturity in looks. The fact that Cass and John had to know the character and background of all students at especial risk, Harry Potter's friends especially, did not occur to him until much later.

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A/N: Anyone who has read a certain classic book will see a few rather thinly-veiled references. Forty housepoints to anyone who figures out which. Next chapter: they open presents, people burst into song, and Harry shows up in a leather jacket. Reviews for the plot kittens who have just pulled off my sock?