Disclaimer: In the sense that all knowledge belongs to humanity, these
characters are mine. In the sense of being sued within an inch of my life,
they ain't. You choose.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Hermione admired the amount of self-control that Severus Snape obviously had. Instead of screaming out a few choice expletives and punching a wall, his only reaction to the news that Ailie was their possible captor was a twitch in his right eyelid.
'How,' he asked, 'did your reasoning bring you to this conclusion?'
Hermione sighed. 'I had forgotten all about it. I've been trying to expose Ailie to as much muggle and wizard culture as I can, and when we went to London to visit Ron and Ginny, I encouraged her to look at what was on television. There were re-runs- I caught her watching them a few times.' She sighed. 'I should have thought of it sooner, really.'
She let Snape digest this information for a moment, and looked around the room once more. It was amazing how obvious it was, really. While she hadn't really sat down and watched the program since she was a child, she knew for certain that the room was based on it. It had to be- it was just too much of a coincidence, especially with the costumes. She suspected that Ailie didn't even know that she had created a room that way; it was simply that I Dream of Jeannie was strong in her mind when she had been creating the genius spell.
'This explains so much, do you see?' she said, looking back at Snape. He was looking thoughtful. 'Your wand doesn't work in here- well, it's likely that Ailie used it to create the spell in the first place, and the idea that the spell might be confused by it actually being in here isn't so far-fetched. And,' she added, in a hopeful tone, 'there's little likelihood that it could have been done by someone else- at least wizard. I don't know that many wizards who would wish us harm who also watch television. It all fits. Oh, it was clever of Ailie to be able to do it. I remember the creator-'
'What, exactly, do you know about the spell?' Snape asked, and Hermione realised that he must have been loath to ask for the information.
'Uh, not that much, really,' she said, anxious not to ruin their apparent truce by appearing a know-it-all. 'It's really an obscure spell. I came across it when I was doing a little light reading in the library one day-' here, she gave a wry grin, '- which I suppose must be how Ailie found it. It was in one of the history books- Aladdin and His Lamp. I've always known it as a muggle children's story- there's even been films about it. Amazing how the two cultures kept the story, really...' she caught his look, and got back to the topic. 'Well, while the muggle story goes that a street urchin found a lamp containing a genie, who granted him three wishes, the wizard version is about an Arabic wizard who wants to teach his son patience. He created the genius spell to imprison his son in a bottle until the boy could calm down enough to figure out the password for his release. Of course, it didn't have the desired effect, as the boy then took to leaping out at muggles from an enchanted lamp, which is where the muggle story comes from. I got the feeling he was much like the Weasley twins, rolled into one.'
'So you believe we may be released by a password?' Snape asked, after she had finished.
'Of course. I'm fairly certain this is a genius spell, and there is no other known way out of one. All we have to do is figure out what the key is,' Hermione said, although she already had a fair idea of what the password might be. Ailie had been fairly addicted to the Bugs Bunny specials aired on TV when they were in London. Snape, however, caught her thoughtful look, and sighed.
'You know what the password is, don't you.'
Hermione bit her lip. 'Um, yes. I mean, I'm not certain, but I think- well, yes.'
Snape nodded. 'Good. Shall we?' He bent and picked up his wand from a nearby cushion, giving Hermione a confused look when she shook her head.
'No, your wand won't do it. I think if the spell was cast by your wand, it won't recognise your magic in here. Um- if you don't mind, I could- ' Snape cut her off with a wave of his hand. Hermione looked around, wondering how to do this. The hole in the ceiling seemed to gape at her, and with a shrug, she pointed her wand directly upward. 'Now, I'm not absolutely sure this will work,' she cautioned, and Snape nodded his head. A thought passed through Hermione's mind, and she grimaced. If it worked, it would be worth taking the extra precaution, although she knew he wouldn't like it. 'Uh, Professor Snape...' He looked at her, and she bit her lip again. 'I think, well, I'm sure- with other transportations achieved by spell with more than one person, physical contact is, um, necessary...' Grimacing, she held out her hand.
With a sigh, Snape took it. 'Get on with it, Miss Granger.'
Hermione concentrated all her powers on the roof above her. She hoped this worked- but it had to work. She knew Ailie, and she knew Ailie's style.
'Open Sesame!' she shouted.
There was a rush of light.
***
The light of dawn was filtering in through the high hospital windows when Ailie was startled awake. She sat up, surprised as a blanket slid off her shoulders. Madam Pomfrey must have put it on her as she dozed.
She looked around the room, and saw the source of her disturbance. Dumbledore, McGonagall and Flitwick were bent over the prone forms of Hermione and Snape, Flitwick doing a few testing charms over them both. As she watched, the little professor shook his head.
'Very well, Filibus, we will call you if there is any change,' Dumbledore said, patting the little wizard consolingly on the back. With a sigh, Flitwick turned away, and the remaining two professors looked up, noticing Ailie's alert presence.
'Nothing works?' Ailie asked, a slight wail in her voice. She didn't know what she would do if they never came back.
Dumbledore sadly shook his head, and McGonagall moved forward to put an arm around Ailie's shoulders.
'I'm sure something will turn up, Ailie,' she said, her voice falsely bright. 'You know we-'
Two identical gasps sounded from the figures on the beds, and Ailie's head came up to see the wide-eyed stares of her two formerly unconscious friends.
They began to speak at the same time.
'I knew it would work!' Hermione said, all smiles. 'Oh- oh Ailie, that was wonderful, I don't know how you managed such a complicated spell-'
'Ailie, you had best have a very, very good explanation for this,' Snape said with a glare. 'Have you any idea-'
'Oh, that was a bit of a rush,' Hermione added, sitting up and looking green. 'I- I don't think I feel very well-'
The two of them stopped speaking and looked at each other, then rose in unison and headed for opposite ends of the room. Hermione managed to reach the store of buckets before her nausea took over, while Snape, with more presence of mind, successfully managed to down an anti-nausea potion from the stores cupboard and stood, grasping the edge of the cabinet for support. After a moment, he stood straighter, and, securing a second vial of the potion and a glass of water, walked past the staring group of his colleagues over to Hermione, who was still bent over a bucket. With surprising gentleness, he pulled her hair out of her way, handed her the items, and allowed her to drink them before moving away with the empty vial.
Ailie looked at McGonagall, who seemed to share her surprise. Dumbledore, she noted, merely watched the proceedings with a thoughtful eye.
***
The repercussions of the incident were not as harsh as any of the participants anticipated. As they had only, in reality, been imprisoned for one night, and had had recourse to mental and bodily rest, Hermione and Snape suffered no real effect at all. Snape, contrary to his and others opinions, found that he did not particularly wish for Ailie's head on a plate as penance- whether this was a consequence of his link with Ailie or some understanding of a bright mind in boredom, not even he could tell.
As for punishment, the word was not even mentioned. Dumbledore and McGonagall, having spent the night cautiously watching Ailie's repentance, knew that the dire consequences of the trick had never been expected by the girl. Hermione, understanding Ailie's mind perhaps better than anyone, bore her no ill will and wanted nothing more than the chance to strangle Ron for all his stories of tricks they had pulled in school, which she was sure had influenced her friend. Indeed, the only person wanting or expecting some kind of castigation was the offender.
By the time dinner rolled around- Snape and Hermione had had classes to attend to, and there seemed no reason for them to stay away- and the five met to discuss the matter, the tense atmosphere around the incident had somewhat worn off. Ailie, though repentant in the extreme at five in the morning after a night of worry, was, after a day of reassurance by all concerned and a satisfying nap, not half as worried as she would have expected, and the announcement of Dumbledore's proposal on how to deal with the matter removed all traces of worry entirely.
'I propose,' the headmaster said, spearing a piece of carrot with his fork, 'that Ailie begin her education at Hogwarts.' He twinkled at them all down the small table.
Ailie looked around in surprise, trying to gauge the reactions of the others. The small, pentagonal table that had been set up in Dumbledore's study to accommodate them for dinner made for a cosy meeting. Ailie noticed, however, that it was smaller than it could have been- there was room enough for the headmaster to transfigure to a larger size where, for instance, Hermione and Snape wouldn't be almost constantly bumping elbows. Of course it could, along with the seating arrangement, be accidental.
The reactions to the news were varied, but that was to be expected. Hermione looked at Ailie in delight, Snape looked unsurprised, McGonagall looked happy but concerned, and Dumbledore was all benevolence. Ailie herself was a little too stunned to have any reaction.
'But how will that work?' she asked, brow furrowed. 'Do you expect me to start hanging around with eleven-year olds?'
Dumbledore chuckled. 'Of course not, my child. I have discussed this with Severus and Minerva, and a few of the other staff of course, and they have agreed that last night's little incident is a sign that your wizarding abilities have reached the point where they need to be trained. Most wizard children experience a few accidents in their childhood; it is one of the signs we use to determine which muggle-born children should be invited to attend this school.' He glanced at Hermione, who smiled back, and then returned his attention to Ailie. 'Your experimentation is no different, my dear; you simply have access to a fully-grown intellect which has enabled you to teach yourself, to a certain extent. We had not realised, I'm afraid, that your talent in wizardry had grown so much, otherwise we would have offered you this opportunity much sooner.'
McGonagall coughed. 'You will not, of course, have to sleep in the dormitories or undergo the sorting process. Your learning will take place much in the same fashion as it has done with Severus's tutoring; you will attend some classes, but otherwise will meet with various teachers for tutoring sessions. We feel that you are able to determine your own pace, especially with all the abilities you have already learnt by yourself.'
'Severus will take you tomorrow afternoon to buy you a wand and some other various necessities,' Dumbledore said, finishing off his beef Wellington with delight.
Ailie ducked her head from all the attention, feeling a little nervous about the proposition. It seemed, whether she liked it or not, she was set to become a wizard. Beside her, Hermione smiled at her in delight.
***
What Dumbledore thought the sojourn in the milk jug had achieved for two of his staff was only half-right. While it had seemingly settled the matter of their last and most serious argument, the two concerned were neither of them simple people, and knew each other as such. As a consequence, there was much tiptoeing around any idea of a truce in the minds of each, each one doubting their own ability to sustain any sort of friendship with the other, and second-guessing any scenario they could imagine.
It could have gone either way, but their individual natures ended up determining it.
The day after the dinner in Dumbledore's office was a Saturday, and the proposed day for Snape to take Ailie to Diagon Alley. The excursion was to take place in the afternoon, and Ailie was busy consulting with her future teachers as to supply requirements, leaving both Snape and Hermione time free to ponder.
The result was Hermione's trek down to the dungeons, where she found a solemn Snape slashing his way through a few student essays.
He looked up, to see her standing in the doorway, the familiar gesture of her lip caught between her teeth giving away her nervousness.
'Yes?' he prompted.
'I- I wanted to ask you something,' she said. Snape indicated that she take one of the seats in front of his desk, knowing that she would flutter around whatever she wanted to say unless he pulled it out of her.
'Well?' he asked, keeping his tone gentle. It seemed to encourage her, and she took a deep breath.
'I wanted to thank you for your help while we were in the genius spell,' she said, looking up. Something in her eyes told Snape that this wasn't the real topic, but he let her go on. 'I know it must have been hard for you, and I know how much you hate me, but you gave me comfort and I just wanted to thank you for it.' The words came out with a slight rush, as if she was afraid he would cut them off somehow.
Snape sighed. 'I don't hate you, Hermione,' he said.
Startlement showed in her eyes. 'You don't?'
'No.' He shook his head. 'Don't ever tell anyone.'
She smiled at the joke, and bit her lip again. Snape sighed inwardly. This was looking to be a long interlude.
'You had something to ask me, I believe?' he prompted.
'I wanted to ask you to accept my apology,' she answered, still looking down. 'It wasn't fair of me to call you- to refer to your past, and I did it in the heat of the moment.'
Anger flared deep in his chest, but habit pushed the flicker of emotion away. 'I see no need for an apology. It was the truth.'
Hermione looked up at him, her face pale. 'But- but it's not! You've more than made up for what you've done- I mean, you didn't really- you never have- not since-'
Snape let her sputter into silence, each of her claims fading into nothingness, as he knew they would. What cut deepest was her naivete in trying to deny what he was.
Sadness seemed to fill his whole being, and for once he let himself taste the exquisite pleasure of it. 'Hermione, one day you will learn to accept that there are some things that cannot be taken back.'
Her eyes glittered for a moment, before she calmly stood up and left. There seemed nothing more to say.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Hermione admired the amount of self-control that Severus Snape obviously had. Instead of screaming out a few choice expletives and punching a wall, his only reaction to the news that Ailie was their possible captor was a twitch in his right eyelid.
'How,' he asked, 'did your reasoning bring you to this conclusion?'
Hermione sighed. 'I had forgotten all about it. I've been trying to expose Ailie to as much muggle and wizard culture as I can, and when we went to London to visit Ron and Ginny, I encouraged her to look at what was on television. There were re-runs- I caught her watching them a few times.' She sighed. 'I should have thought of it sooner, really.'
She let Snape digest this information for a moment, and looked around the room once more. It was amazing how obvious it was, really. While she hadn't really sat down and watched the program since she was a child, she knew for certain that the room was based on it. It had to be- it was just too much of a coincidence, especially with the costumes. She suspected that Ailie didn't even know that she had created a room that way; it was simply that I Dream of Jeannie was strong in her mind when she had been creating the genius spell.
'This explains so much, do you see?' she said, looking back at Snape. He was looking thoughtful. 'Your wand doesn't work in here- well, it's likely that Ailie used it to create the spell in the first place, and the idea that the spell might be confused by it actually being in here isn't so far-fetched. And,' she added, in a hopeful tone, 'there's little likelihood that it could have been done by someone else- at least wizard. I don't know that many wizards who would wish us harm who also watch television. It all fits. Oh, it was clever of Ailie to be able to do it. I remember the creator-'
'What, exactly, do you know about the spell?' Snape asked, and Hermione realised that he must have been loath to ask for the information.
'Uh, not that much, really,' she said, anxious not to ruin their apparent truce by appearing a know-it-all. 'It's really an obscure spell. I came across it when I was doing a little light reading in the library one day-' here, she gave a wry grin, '- which I suppose must be how Ailie found it. It was in one of the history books- Aladdin and His Lamp. I've always known it as a muggle children's story- there's even been films about it. Amazing how the two cultures kept the story, really...' she caught his look, and got back to the topic. 'Well, while the muggle story goes that a street urchin found a lamp containing a genie, who granted him three wishes, the wizard version is about an Arabic wizard who wants to teach his son patience. He created the genius spell to imprison his son in a bottle until the boy could calm down enough to figure out the password for his release. Of course, it didn't have the desired effect, as the boy then took to leaping out at muggles from an enchanted lamp, which is where the muggle story comes from. I got the feeling he was much like the Weasley twins, rolled into one.'
'So you believe we may be released by a password?' Snape asked, after she had finished.
'Of course. I'm fairly certain this is a genius spell, and there is no other known way out of one. All we have to do is figure out what the key is,' Hermione said, although she already had a fair idea of what the password might be. Ailie had been fairly addicted to the Bugs Bunny specials aired on TV when they were in London. Snape, however, caught her thoughtful look, and sighed.
'You know what the password is, don't you.'
Hermione bit her lip. 'Um, yes. I mean, I'm not certain, but I think- well, yes.'
Snape nodded. 'Good. Shall we?' He bent and picked up his wand from a nearby cushion, giving Hermione a confused look when she shook her head.
'No, your wand won't do it. I think if the spell was cast by your wand, it won't recognise your magic in here. Um- if you don't mind, I could- ' Snape cut her off with a wave of his hand. Hermione looked around, wondering how to do this. The hole in the ceiling seemed to gape at her, and with a shrug, she pointed her wand directly upward. 'Now, I'm not absolutely sure this will work,' she cautioned, and Snape nodded his head. A thought passed through Hermione's mind, and she grimaced. If it worked, it would be worth taking the extra precaution, although she knew he wouldn't like it. 'Uh, Professor Snape...' He looked at her, and she bit her lip again. 'I think, well, I'm sure- with other transportations achieved by spell with more than one person, physical contact is, um, necessary...' Grimacing, she held out her hand.
With a sigh, Snape took it. 'Get on with it, Miss Granger.'
Hermione concentrated all her powers on the roof above her. She hoped this worked- but it had to work. She knew Ailie, and she knew Ailie's style.
'Open Sesame!' she shouted.
There was a rush of light.
***
The light of dawn was filtering in through the high hospital windows when Ailie was startled awake. She sat up, surprised as a blanket slid off her shoulders. Madam Pomfrey must have put it on her as she dozed.
She looked around the room, and saw the source of her disturbance. Dumbledore, McGonagall and Flitwick were bent over the prone forms of Hermione and Snape, Flitwick doing a few testing charms over them both. As she watched, the little professor shook his head.
'Very well, Filibus, we will call you if there is any change,' Dumbledore said, patting the little wizard consolingly on the back. With a sigh, Flitwick turned away, and the remaining two professors looked up, noticing Ailie's alert presence.
'Nothing works?' Ailie asked, a slight wail in her voice. She didn't know what she would do if they never came back.
Dumbledore sadly shook his head, and McGonagall moved forward to put an arm around Ailie's shoulders.
'I'm sure something will turn up, Ailie,' she said, her voice falsely bright. 'You know we-'
Two identical gasps sounded from the figures on the beds, and Ailie's head came up to see the wide-eyed stares of her two formerly unconscious friends.
They began to speak at the same time.
'I knew it would work!' Hermione said, all smiles. 'Oh- oh Ailie, that was wonderful, I don't know how you managed such a complicated spell-'
'Ailie, you had best have a very, very good explanation for this,' Snape said with a glare. 'Have you any idea-'
'Oh, that was a bit of a rush,' Hermione added, sitting up and looking green. 'I- I don't think I feel very well-'
The two of them stopped speaking and looked at each other, then rose in unison and headed for opposite ends of the room. Hermione managed to reach the store of buckets before her nausea took over, while Snape, with more presence of mind, successfully managed to down an anti-nausea potion from the stores cupboard and stood, grasping the edge of the cabinet for support. After a moment, he stood straighter, and, securing a second vial of the potion and a glass of water, walked past the staring group of his colleagues over to Hermione, who was still bent over a bucket. With surprising gentleness, he pulled her hair out of her way, handed her the items, and allowed her to drink them before moving away with the empty vial.
Ailie looked at McGonagall, who seemed to share her surprise. Dumbledore, she noted, merely watched the proceedings with a thoughtful eye.
***
The repercussions of the incident were not as harsh as any of the participants anticipated. As they had only, in reality, been imprisoned for one night, and had had recourse to mental and bodily rest, Hermione and Snape suffered no real effect at all. Snape, contrary to his and others opinions, found that he did not particularly wish for Ailie's head on a plate as penance- whether this was a consequence of his link with Ailie or some understanding of a bright mind in boredom, not even he could tell.
As for punishment, the word was not even mentioned. Dumbledore and McGonagall, having spent the night cautiously watching Ailie's repentance, knew that the dire consequences of the trick had never been expected by the girl. Hermione, understanding Ailie's mind perhaps better than anyone, bore her no ill will and wanted nothing more than the chance to strangle Ron for all his stories of tricks they had pulled in school, which she was sure had influenced her friend. Indeed, the only person wanting or expecting some kind of castigation was the offender.
By the time dinner rolled around- Snape and Hermione had had classes to attend to, and there seemed no reason for them to stay away- and the five met to discuss the matter, the tense atmosphere around the incident had somewhat worn off. Ailie, though repentant in the extreme at five in the morning after a night of worry, was, after a day of reassurance by all concerned and a satisfying nap, not half as worried as she would have expected, and the announcement of Dumbledore's proposal on how to deal with the matter removed all traces of worry entirely.
'I propose,' the headmaster said, spearing a piece of carrot with his fork, 'that Ailie begin her education at Hogwarts.' He twinkled at them all down the small table.
Ailie looked around in surprise, trying to gauge the reactions of the others. The small, pentagonal table that had been set up in Dumbledore's study to accommodate them for dinner made for a cosy meeting. Ailie noticed, however, that it was smaller than it could have been- there was room enough for the headmaster to transfigure to a larger size where, for instance, Hermione and Snape wouldn't be almost constantly bumping elbows. Of course it could, along with the seating arrangement, be accidental.
The reactions to the news were varied, but that was to be expected. Hermione looked at Ailie in delight, Snape looked unsurprised, McGonagall looked happy but concerned, and Dumbledore was all benevolence. Ailie herself was a little too stunned to have any reaction.
'But how will that work?' she asked, brow furrowed. 'Do you expect me to start hanging around with eleven-year olds?'
Dumbledore chuckled. 'Of course not, my child. I have discussed this with Severus and Minerva, and a few of the other staff of course, and they have agreed that last night's little incident is a sign that your wizarding abilities have reached the point where they need to be trained. Most wizard children experience a few accidents in their childhood; it is one of the signs we use to determine which muggle-born children should be invited to attend this school.' He glanced at Hermione, who smiled back, and then returned his attention to Ailie. 'Your experimentation is no different, my dear; you simply have access to a fully-grown intellect which has enabled you to teach yourself, to a certain extent. We had not realised, I'm afraid, that your talent in wizardry had grown so much, otherwise we would have offered you this opportunity much sooner.'
McGonagall coughed. 'You will not, of course, have to sleep in the dormitories or undergo the sorting process. Your learning will take place much in the same fashion as it has done with Severus's tutoring; you will attend some classes, but otherwise will meet with various teachers for tutoring sessions. We feel that you are able to determine your own pace, especially with all the abilities you have already learnt by yourself.'
'Severus will take you tomorrow afternoon to buy you a wand and some other various necessities,' Dumbledore said, finishing off his beef Wellington with delight.
Ailie ducked her head from all the attention, feeling a little nervous about the proposition. It seemed, whether she liked it or not, she was set to become a wizard. Beside her, Hermione smiled at her in delight.
***
What Dumbledore thought the sojourn in the milk jug had achieved for two of his staff was only half-right. While it had seemingly settled the matter of their last and most serious argument, the two concerned were neither of them simple people, and knew each other as such. As a consequence, there was much tiptoeing around any idea of a truce in the minds of each, each one doubting their own ability to sustain any sort of friendship with the other, and second-guessing any scenario they could imagine.
It could have gone either way, but their individual natures ended up determining it.
The day after the dinner in Dumbledore's office was a Saturday, and the proposed day for Snape to take Ailie to Diagon Alley. The excursion was to take place in the afternoon, and Ailie was busy consulting with her future teachers as to supply requirements, leaving both Snape and Hermione time free to ponder.
The result was Hermione's trek down to the dungeons, where she found a solemn Snape slashing his way through a few student essays.
He looked up, to see her standing in the doorway, the familiar gesture of her lip caught between her teeth giving away her nervousness.
'Yes?' he prompted.
'I- I wanted to ask you something,' she said. Snape indicated that she take one of the seats in front of his desk, knowing that she would flutter around whatever she wanted to say unless he pulled it out of her.
'Well?' he asked, keeping his tone gentle. It seemed to encourage her, and she took a deep breath.
'I wanted to thank you for your help while we were in the genius spell,' she said, looking up. Something in her eyes told Snape that this wasn't the real topic, but he let her go on. 'I know it must have been hard for you, and I know how much you hate me, but you gave me comfort and I just wanted to thank you for it.' The words came out with a slight rush, as if she was afraid he would cut them off somehow.
Snape sighed. 'I don't hate you, Hermione,' he said.
Startlement showed in her eyes. 'You don't?'
'No.' He shook his head. 'Don't ever tell anyone.'
She smiled at the joke, and bit her lip again. Snape sighed inwardly. This was looking to be a long interlude.
'You had something to ask me, I believe?' he prompted.
'I wanted to ask you to accept my apology,' she answered, still looking down. 'It wasn't fair of me to call you- to refer to your past, and I did it in the heat of the moment.'
Anger flared deep in his chest, but habit pushed the flicker of emotion away. 'I see no need for an apology. It was the truth.'
Hermione looked up at him, her face pale. 'But- but it's not! You've more than made up for what you've done- I mean, you didn't really- you never have- not since-'
Snape let her sputter into silence, each of her claims fading into nothingness, as he knew they would. What cut deepest was her naivete in trying to deny what he was.
Sadness seemed to fill his whole being, and for once he let himself taste the exquisite pleasure of it. 'Hermione, one day you will learn to accept that there are some things that cannot be taken back.'
Her eyes glittered for a moment, before she calmly stood up and left. There seemed nothing more to say.