A/N: Another day wasting life in school again. Guess I'll type. Here you go.

Chapter Sixteen: Death to the Roadcones

"She survived."

"How, Luciuss?"

"She wasn't in her house when we fired it."

"I sssee. And her parentsss?"

"We aren't certain. She doesn't seem to be grieving, though there's noplace in Britain where they could hide among Muggles."

"What about wizardsss?"

"They are Mudbloods. Who would dare to shelter them?" Wormtail interjected.

"Silenccce, Wormtail. Luciuss, have you any ideasss?"

"The Weasleys, Arthur and Molly. Their youngest son is a friend of hers."

"As iss Harry Potter." The forked tongue flicked in and out menacingly. "Find them and dessstroy them."

"What about the girl? She could be taken care of easily, during the field trip with that filthy Muggle Dumbledore's hired."

"She shall not be harmed," Voldemort hissed, an evil grin breaking across his face. "I have plansss for her. Luciuss, why is your wife listening over there?"

"Narcissa?" Lucius hurried to the velvet curtain and tore it aside, revealing his wife, who was indeed listening to them, an innocently fascinated smile on her face. "What are you doing here?"

"Writer's block, my love," she purred sweetly, letting her somewhat scandalous dress brush Lucius as she passed. "Political intrigues interest me so, I couldn't help coming to hear a bit." Turning on her best smoldering temptress charm, Narcissa curtseyed politely to Voldemort. "I do apologize, my Lord. Silly girls like me miss their husbands sometimes." She gave Lucius a sidelong look, trying at once to look affectionate and not burst into tears from the hypocrisy her task required. "What do you have in mind for the Mudblood, my Lord? Is that the same one who attacked my son?"

"Narcissa, I don't think-"

"Nonsensse, Luciuss. I think your wife could be mosst helpful." Astonishing how Moldy-Voldy could make those snakey eyes look lustful, Narcissa thought. Ecch. "The Mudblood'ss name iss Hermione Granger."

"Funny name. Sounds awfully hard to spell." Narcissa hadn't been named Wand and Ward's Blonde of the Year twice in school for nothing.

"She iss the one I have chosen for the Replicatuss Filiusss spell," the reptilian man announced. "As your husssband would ssay, jussst in casse."

'No,' Narcissa thought. 'He wouldn't!'

"Any way I can help?" she purred.

"Yess. Forget it. Obliviate!"

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"Morning, morning glory," Cass remarked, ambling into the Gryffindor sixth-year girls' dormitory as if it were a sibling's room. Hermione was the only one awake, reading a book in bed.

"Cass! You startled me! Don't do that!"

"Well, I'd be startled too if someone jumped me while I was reading that." Cass sat down next to her friend and thumped the cover of the book. "What's a wizard chick doing with Stephen King?"

"Dad sent it. Your father's gotten him hooked on these kind of things."

"Oh. That's logical. My dad's a book junkie." Cass bit into a croissant from the paper bag she had brought. "Just don't read 'Misery' late at night. Scared me off writing for a year. Want a crescent thing?"

"Croissant. Thanks." Hermione nibbled one. "Mmm. Where did you get this?"

"My dad sent 'em. Your dad's got him hooked on Euro food."

"You yanks had never had croissants before?"

"Not these kind. These kind of crumbs go everywhere. Oh, don't worry, the house-elves will sweep 'em off!"

"Just what do you mean by Euro food?" Hermione asked, arching an eyebrow.

"Anything other than pizza, McDonald's fries or Chinese. Euro food. You know, stuff from across the pond?"

"Having never been to your side, I can't say I've ever had anything else."

"Never?" Cass's eyes widened. "You've never had a Krispy Kreme donut?"

"A what?"

"Potato Patch fries?"

"Huh?"

"Primanti Brothers Sandwiches?"

"Nope."

"Panera bread?"

"Is that Italian?"

"Isaly's Chipped Chopped Ham?" Hermione shook her head and Cass gasped in horror. "You've never had Heinz ketchup?"

"What is it?"

"Jesus, Mary, Joseph and Ted! My poor Hermione!" Cass hugged the startled girl and then leapt off the bed. "We are going on a field trip, you and me."

"We're going on one tomorrow, aren't we?"

"That's for school. This is for your ethnic enrichment."

"Where are we going?" Cass grinned broadly. Hermione began to look a little scared. "I don't think I like that look."

"We are going to a magic land, where buildings are tall and people are still polite, where plain spuds and salt become pure heaven."

"Huh? Is this a wizarding place?"

"Hold on, I'm narrating. The rumble of wheels on wood and steel and the screams of orgiastic ecstasy are the loudest sounds you'll hear. There is music and there are little kids laughing and ducking under line bars. There is food like you have never dreamed of and thrills you couldn't even get on a broom with Sev."

"Cass, you're insane. What have you got in mind?"

"Kennywood."

"What in hell is that?"

"The best amusement park on the face of God's green earth."

"Is it open?"

"Opens today. It's May, after all."

"What sort of place is it? I mean, what do they have there?"

"The finest rollercoasters ever built, antique rides maintained in perfect operating condition, vintage buildings and the best food you will ever taste in this world or the next."

"And where is this place?"

"Ummm..." Cass hedged. "I have a Portkey there in a Ziploc bag, won't take us two minutes."

"Is it in America?"

"Sorta."

"How can anyplace be sorta in America?"

"It's in Pittsburgh. Well, somewhat to the left of it."

"You're trying to make me go with you to America?"

"You will, right?"

"You're insane." Hermione took a sip of water from the glass on her nightstand. "Why go to America? We have rollercoasters here."

"I've seen those bits of bolts you English call coasters," Cass remarked, polishing off her croissant with a cynical look. "Trust me. It'll be loads of fun."

"Is there any way I can get out of this?"

"Nope. I'm faculty. You have to come."

"Alright." Hermione got up and opened her drawer. "What do I wear?"

"T-shirt and jeans."

"I haven't got any-" Cass transfigured her clothes to worn flares and a Pittsburgh Penguins t-shirt. "Oh. Okay. Why the Antarctic bird?"

"That is a penguin, you."

"I know it's a penguin. What's it doing on my chest?"

"Playing goalie. What does it look like it's doing?"

"You're mad."

Cass took a Ziploc bag from her pocket and opened it. Inside was a small yellow magnet in the shape of an arrow with 'Kennywood' written on it.

"Touch the arrow."

"Don't I need shoes?" Cass took out her wand again and instantly Hermione had on some nicely broken-in Steve Maddens. "Spiffing," she observed sarcastically. "May I leave a note for the other girls?"

"Sure. I've already owled Sev."

"Why, you!"

"Yeah, I sort of had the outing planned. Shoot me." Cass shook the plastic bag impatiently. "We do want to beat the early lines on the Exterminator."

"The what?"

"It's a ride. Really mild, you sit in little cars shaped like mice and roll around in the dark. You'll love it."

"Alright, Cass." Hermione touched the arrow and was swept away.

"English." Cass grinned. She had exaggerated to the reverse a little bit. Touching the magnet, she vanished, leaving the Portkey neatly on Hermione's pillow. Half an hour later, Lavender and Parvati got up, oblivious to anything out of the ordinary.

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'Sevvy dear,
            We're going to Kennywood. It's an American place. Probably horribly dangerous, with lots of crowds Death Eaters could hide in. It's also disturbingly romantic without being cloyingly so, especially at night. I'll leave the Portkey in her room. Dare you to come!
                                                                                                            -Cass'

It was infuriating. Damn that American!

"How do you stand her, John?"

"Cassie?" John thought for a moment. "She might seem wild, but she has a shy side, too."

"Where?" Severus added lacewings to the potion he was working on. "Soles of her feet?"

"She's scared of spiders, too," John mused.

"Oh! Spiders! She's practically a pussycat."

"Well, she does-"

"Don't you dare! I do not want that mental image, thank you."

"She kept pet mice when she was younger, s'all."

"Oh." Severus made the fire under the cauldron cool down a bit. "I had an owl when I was four."

"I had a collie named Higgins."

"After Shaw's Professor?"

"Yep."

"I thought that was your favorite musical. The casting is supposed to be brilliant."

"Alan Rickman is just who I'd have chosen," John agreed. They were planning to surprise Cass and Hermione with tickets to 'My Fair Lady' next month to celebrate the end of O.W.L.s. "I'm sort of unsure about the costumes. That's always a hard show since the movie was so good."

"What is this Kennywood place?" Severus asked distractedly.

"It's an amusement park. Pittsburghers are insane about it." John finished chopping the roots and slid them to Severus. "Its like Russians and Lenin. You can't talk down Kennywood and keep your balls."

"Colorful expression. Is it a crowded place?"

"Not very, actually. It's quite well landscaped, sort of like Hyde Park with more trees and big shiny rides."

"What would one wear if one wanted to attend this place?"

"Jeans and a t-shirt."

"Not shorts?"

"Cassie maintains that your legs stick to the vinyl if you wear shorts. You can slide more if you've got on jeans."

"Slide?"

"When the ride spins, your girl slides into your arms. Centrifugal force, you know, wonderful invention."

Snape extinguished the fire and let the potion cool. Stepping into his chambers, he returned about five minutes later dressed in black jeans and a Slytherin t-shirt with a snake on it.

"Would these be appropriate?"

"Sure. Lose the shoes, though. Sometimes you get wet there."

Severus agreeably changed shoes to some black Muggle sneakers Cass had gotten him. Her theory was that they would be good for sneaking up on students who were out after curfew, and he found them rather comfy, actually. John pulled off his robes, revealing a different Slytherin t-shirt and jeans that had a leather patch for a back pocket.

"Cassandra said the Portkey would be in Hermione's room."

"I've got my own," John explained, pulling a Ziploc bag out of his robe pocket before hanging them up neatly. "Do you get motion sickness?"

"No, why?"

"Then you'll love this place."

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 Narcissa knew she had been memory charmed. For starters, there was a page of her journal she didn't remember doing, let alone writing about, and then there were the sixty-two pages of a new romance novel she must have started but which she couldn't even recall thinking up.

As it was, she was rather disturbed by it. The novel read like a transvestite Tolstoy on really awful drugs. She had known that she didn't write great stuff, but boy, was this manuscript a piece of shit!

She had to see Severus. He was the only man in England who could reverse Obliviates with a potion.

That little tidbit of information was written inside of her makeup kit, just in case.

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"Okay, maybe it's not such a mild ride."

Hermione looked up from the water she had been staring into, trying to keep from throwing up. Her expression was rather less than pleased. "And maybe we could have done without vinegar on the fries."

"I think it was the fact that we ate three dish-things of them."

Cass patted Hermione's shoulder.

"Next time we'll have broccoli and cheese on 'em."

"Can we ride that big one now?" Hermione pointed to a huge steel coaster.

"The Steel Phantom?" Cass gulped. "That one's better after dark."

"How about that one?" Hermione pointed to the Whip, which was a simple flat ride that looked much milder.

"That sounds good. Want to get some lunch afterwards?"

"Are you really hungry or something?"

"I'm craving fries. Go figure." Cass inspected the fingernail marks on her arm where Hermione had been scared on the last ride.

"Okay, should you be riding rollercoasters, Cass? It says no expectant mothers."

"Silly girl. The full moon's this week." Cass sighed. "I'm still having trouble in that department, actually."

"Is the potion helping, or can you tell?"

"I think it might be. Maybe this soon, I can't expect any good results."

"Soon?"

"I had a miscarriage awhile ago." Cass explained shortly.

"I'm sorry."

"They say I'm still young enough to have more kids." The werewolf sighed.

"My parents had a hard time having me. That's why they're older and I'm an only child."

"I suspected that. My mom died of cancer when I was two."

"Is that why you're worried?"

"Yes, actually." Cass was biting her lip. "My aunt had it, my grandmother, my mom..."

"Was it breast cancer?"

"And you quit Divination class." Cass smiled. "Come on. This ride won't make you spew like the last one did."

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"Are you crazy?" John asked. "We just had fries."

"And they're great!" Severus agreed, eating the last four in one big bite. "I haven't had chips like this since I was a fifth-year. How do they make them so big? English ones are loads thinner."

"You can watch them being made for a little bit. Let's not go right onto the Thunderbolt again."

"I like it! It's really a brilliant thing, this Muggle ride. Where are the motors on the trains?"

"There aren't any motors, or brakes, either, on the cars." As the two men waited in line, John explained how rollercoasters worked. Snape was fascinated.

"I wonder if we could build one outside Hogwarts."

Ten minutes later, Severus Snape was looking positively sick.

"I loathe America," he observed, sinking onto a bench with a sardonic glare. "If you say one word, John, I'll use an Unforgivable."

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"It's beautiful at night. Look at all the lights."

"Yeah. I sort of wish John had come along, but he had to work with Sev. 'Sides, then we would've had an odd number of people."

"Want to ride on the big one now?"

"Hermione, you're a glutton for punishment. You almost tossed your cookies on the Jack Rabbit."

"I was completely not expecting that double hill," Hermione protested. "Come on, Cass...you're not afraid, are you?"

"Of course not!" Cass checked her watch for the seventh time. "Why don't we go on Noah's Ark?"

"Noah's Ark? I thought that was just a decoration."

"It's sort of like a haunted house. Come on."

"Then we can ride the really big coaster?"

"Sure."

Cass swore under her breath as they got in line. Giving Hermione caffienated soda had been a big mistake.

The ride began with about fifteen people being ushered into a service elevator, with realistic-looking rust on the walls and pebbled dirt outside the streaked windows. Cass leaned against a wall as if it were no big deal, forcing Hermione to face her and thus miss John and Severus joining them with the crowd.

"What is this thing?"

"Muggle elevator. It lifts us up to the next floor."

"Oh. Hermione!" Severus saw his student and hurried across the elevator to hug her. Just then, a disembodied voice began to speak as the elevator began to rise shakily.

"This service elevator has been in place since long before the building of Kennywood Park. Archaeologists used it in the early years of the last century, some of whom are still there. Since this is an industrial elevator, we must ask that you holllllddd onnn-"

The elevator's lights blinked wildly and then went black. Out the windows they could see that the cables had broken and they were falling very rapidly. Hermione screamed and Severus held her tight, just as terrified.

A moment later they heard a soft thump, the lights came on, and the door opened. They were now in a weirdly lit passage. There were two beams to walk on above deep chasms filled with the archaeologists' skeletons and creepy giant spiders as big as Severus's hand.

"What in hell have you gotten us into?" Snape roared. A little kid of about six smiled at him.

"It's okay, mister. There's glass. Lookit." The little boy hopped up and down on what had looked like a terrifying hole. "My sister says it's not real. Don't worry."

Severus had never been so embarrassed in his life. Cass and John absolutely cracked up.

"Admit it, it was funny."

"You filthy Yanks." Hermione seethed. "You knew that was going to happen, didn't you?"

"Well, no, the little kid was an added plus." John grinned. "I didn't know you blushed that color, Sev."

****************************************************************

"What is this?" Snape asked as the Americans stopped in front of a rather large and old convertible, painted black with blue flames on the front.

"My beloved car!" Cass cried. "Sweet Dingo, did you miss me? Oh, that's Mummy's good car!" She petted the hood lovingly as if it were a St. Bernard.

"Is she serious?" Severus asked John.

"What can I say? I married a motor chick."

Cass had reached in with her keys and started Dingo.

"Listen to him purr!" She hopped in without opening the door and turned on the stereo system, which sounded as if it had equaled if not surpassed the cost of the car. Cass's father had respectfully left her Doors CD in, and the whole scene looked like something out of a seventies movie. "Come on, guys!"

Hermione's mother had made the mistake of letting her see 'Almost Famous.' The bookworm leapt happily into the car just as her friend had.

"This is such a cool car," she observed. "Guys, come on!"

"There is no way I'll trust Cassandra behind the wheel." Severus announced.

"Then John'll drive." Cass moved over on the leather bench seat and John obligingly got behind the wheel. He actually opened his door to accomplish this. With a distrustful frown, Severus climbed into the back seat. "Let's rock and roll!"

"Death to the Roadcones, love?" John asked a little excitedly half an hour later. They had come to a construction zone and there was no traffic, since it was almost twelve.

"Death to the Roadcones!" Cass crowed exultantly. "Hermione, get the broom."

"Broom?"

"In the glove compartment."

Expecting a magically shrunken broom, Hermione opened the glove compartment. Instead, there were pipelike sections of a screw-together broom. Cass grabbed some and assembled them while John searched the CD player. He paused it just before a song right as they finished building the broom.

"Ready, loves?" he asked. "Ready, Sev?"

"Hold on tight, Hermione," Cass cried, shoving the broom out the window and holding it like a trireme oar. "Rock and roll!"

John hit the play button and and floored the accelerator. Cass and Hermione jabbed out with the broom as the bar passed, knocking over the orange road markers with disturbing glee. Severus was watching all this in abject horror.

"What are you doing?" he asked. "Isn't this illegal?"

"Just enjoy it, Sev!" John shouted over Jim Morrison's singing. "You need to loosen up!"

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'Dear diary,
I loathe my life. Iocaine poison is too slow. Bleeding is messy and Blaise took away my razor blades. I either need to kill myself or run away.

There's a field trip tomorrow, though, won't want to miss that. I have to learn about Muggles to live among them, after all. I do like Professor Tyler's class. Yesterday she made Draco Malfoy sing 'I'm a Little Teapot' because he didn't do his homework. We had to write about a famous Muggle who shares our first name. Some of them were really cool.  Neville Longbottom's was about Neville Chamberlain, Ron Weasley did his on Ron Howard, Harry Potter chose Harry Nilsson and sang a song for us, and Hermione Granger wrote a small thesis on Hermione Gingold, who was a Muggle actress and sounds very cool. There are just about no Muggles named Draco. I wrote about Maria Von Trapp. She married a captain in the Austrian army who already had some kids and years later had a musical made about her life. I wanted to do Julie Andrews but my mom didn't name me that.

Note to self: find out what pucomters are and why Muggles shake their fists at them.

**********************************************************************

"I need to loosen up, you say." Severus remarked as John drove the car back to Cass's father's house. Hermione was asleep in the backseat with him, her head on his lap, and Cass was just as gone, leaning on John's shoulder. "What did Cassandra do to Hermione?"

"Every woman has a secret party side. All Cassie did was open Pandora's box." John grinned, hugging Cass with his free arm. Severus was unconsciously doing something similar.

"I shudder to think what dirty minds would do to that metaphor."

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A/N: And what is going to happen? Can Narcissa's memory be restored? Will the poor Brits have terrible indigestion from the fries? And what is going on with Maria Catesby? All these and more in the next chapter!