Some is mine and some is J. K. R.'s and some I skieffed from other places. If you want a better disclaimer check out the one for chapter seven.
Now I said I would award Points and here is where things stood when I posted this chapter:
Gryffindor-20 Points- FrogFoot24 received 10 Points for enthusiastic participation in cleaning up Neville's latest mess: CapriceAnn is awarded 10 Points for actually showing up for class this time
Slytherin-40 Points- Sunna received 10 Points for paying attention in class (she remembered the earlier references to age from chapter 3); RivanKnight is awarded 10 Points for, shall we say, House loyalty…(see author note on chapter 21 for an example); Hope is awarded 10 Points for creative use of friendship in order to get what she wanted; Jemini receives 10 Points for correctly identifying Mister Longbottom's latest mess, and then properly brewing the counter agent
Ravenclaw- if you reviewed and I didn't count you tell me, or review this chapter and get some points for your House.
Huffelpuff- if you reviewed and I didn't count you tell me, or review this chapter and get some points for your House.
Chapter (I'm sick of those big numbers when these are just sub-chapters. This is just the beginning of the latest bit…enjoy!)
Friday morning was not going well. The early morning was usually the worst time of day for Professor Snape. Lately the mornings had been worse than ever. Not eating enough and trying to cover his teaching position and be a good little Death Eater was getting harder to do. And now, in the middle of first period Potions he was trying not to give in to the migraine that was trying to make him give in.
"Sir," Hermione called as she raised her hand, "it smells a lot like the gas, Nitrous Oxide, my parents used to use in their Muggle dental office." She was hoping to be helpful, but she also knew it would not be taken that way.
Snape was holding the bridge of his nose and squinting his eyes shut, Moody stepped in, as she was expected to, "Miss Granger," (she had the soft but deadly tone down as far as the student body were concerned.) "When I need you to identify a form of anesthesia I will ask for your, no doubt, superior opinion on the matter."
Ron was trying to not pass-out because of the vapors coming from his cauldron. He was totally baffled as to what had gone wrong with his first independent project. Frantically the red-faced boy was double-checking his notes and the ingredients he had gathered and prepared. About to consult his textbook Ron caught a glimpse of the Slytherin at the next table over, Sunna Clausen. She was going red in the face trying to muffle her laughter while stirring her cauldron of perfectly normal Flu-be-gone.
Professor Snape did not even raise his eyes as he spoke to the girl, "Miss Clausen, are you well?"
Her dark hair was cut in a pixyish bob, but the cute effect was ruined as soon as the little gleam in her eyes became apparent. "I think it's the fumes Professor," she managed to say, after choking back on another giggle.
"Do you feel that a trip to the Hospital Wing is in order?" Snape asked, not quite worried, but with more consideration than he would have shown a Gryffindor.
"No Sir," she shook her head, "I think I just need some fresh air."
"Very well Miss Clausen," Snape allowed with a wave of his free hand, "just make sure that you are on time to your next class. If you are not feeling better by then, do go to the Medical wing."
"Mister Weasley," professor Moody stepped in again, "Detention tonight seven o'clock-"
"But I've got Quidditch practice!" Ron gasped.
"Maybe you will focus better without that distraction," she sneered, "and that'll be ten Points from Gryffindor for interrupting a teacher."
At lunch Ron was still worked up about it, "I don't know what it was or how she did it, but Clausen must have done something to ruin my potion." He tore open a roll and slapped butter on it, "I mean I was right there the entire time!"
While Ron was chewing Hermione spoke quickly, "You know she never gets caught. Clausen is just too quick."
"And slippery," Harry added. "She stole a quill from me once and I had it tucked behind my ear!"
"Well at least she always gives back the things she takes," Hermione said in defense of the Kleptomaniac Queen, as the Slytherin in question was known. "But," Hermione added after a moment of analytical thought, "that could be just a ploy to get out of some of the trouble she's in, since she knows she's been caught."
"If you are ever missing anything," Ron advised Aidan with an upperclassman's authority, "always tell Sunna Clausen to give it back before you spend too much time looking. She almost always has it. No matter what it is."
~
Many of the guys and a few of the girls had left already to watch or participate in their fourth Quidditch practice of the year. Ron had joined Harry and the rest of the team as they headed out then, rather reluctantly, made his way to his detention in the dungeons.
@--'---,----------
Hermione had been working on her Advanced Muggle studies assignment, a scroll on the major effects that the industrial revolution had on the average Muggle's life and what effects were still being felt. But a small gaggle of girls were twittering over by the hearth, being just loud enough that she couldn't focus. Looking up with some frustration Hermione finally addressed them, "What in the world are all of you going on about? You should be studying for NEWTS or OWLS or something."
Parvatti rolled her eyes and leaned over the back of the couch she was sharing with Lavender and Susan, "It's nothing Mione," she called back in a sing-song fashion that set Hermione to thinking that it was very much something.
"Well," Lavender added, "nothing you'd be interested in anyway."
"Lavender!" Ginny cried from a cushion on the floor closer to the fire. "That was so unfair."
Lavender had the grace to blush at that, "That's not what I meant. It's just that unless there's a glossary or footnotes or something, then she isn't interested." She continued to blush, leading Hermione to believe that she had missed something important.
"What-" Hermione began, with a slight scrunching of her nose.
"We're just talking about boys," Ginny said while glaring at Lavender. Then she brightened and looked eagerly toward Hermione, "Come over and join us! You've been head of your class since day one of your First Year, a few hours of fooling around and talking about the cutest guys in the school won't kill your grades."
Reluctantly, as though she were walking into the Forbidden Forest blindfolded and under a full moon, she joined the group by the fire.
Ginny summoned a cushion to her side and indicated that she should sit.
"Ok, who are we talking about now," Hermione asked with ever more reluctance.
"We've already talked about Harry," Susan said.
"And Blaise and Seamus," added Parvati.
"And Draco," Ginny grinned. To Hermione's scandalized look she mearly pushed back her copper colored mane and smiled, "some girls like the not-so-nice, but devastatingly-handsome ones."
After the giggles died down somewhat, Kyleah spoke up, "Which I think brings us to the soon-to-be-hotties," more giggles followed.
Ginny leaned over to Hermione and whispered a quick explanation, "Now we talk about guys we think will be hot, in like a year or two. Once they grow up a little, get some muscle and maturity."
Oh, Hermione mouthed, while silently pleading with the Heavens, 'I'm in hell! What did I do to earn this?!'
A few Second and Third Years were mentioned and their highs and lows were given deep thought and equal time. Snacks were passed around while hair cut and current muscle build, were compared with speculations of what the guy in question could look like. When Susan mentioned Aidan Rittenhouse Hermione tried to get up, but Ginny grabbed her arm and held on until she settled back down. Someone mentioned Neville Longbottom and Hermione nearly sprayed a mouthful of pumpkin juice on Delilah, a Third Year that had the misfortune of sitting in front of her on the other side of the hearthrug.
"I told you," Lavender crowed, "unless there's a table of contents, or dates to memorize then she isn't interested."
Ginny got up from her sprawled out position on the floor and with wide eyes demanded of Hermione, "You haven't noticed?" when Hermione shook her head in confusion Ginny flopped back down. "First off he grew taller and lost weight over the summer-"
Kyleah interrupted, "He must have had dance lessons or something, cause he isn't clumsy on his feet anymore and he has some muscle, he was working out over the summer not to mention his-"
"Neville?!" Hermione found her voice at last, "Neville Longbottom?!"
~
Ron was exhausted. Miss Professor Moody had him make not only the Flu-be-gone Potion that Clausen had ruined for him, she also had him make a Fever Reducer Potion a Cough No-more and something that was supposed to help with nausea but smelled disgusting. As he lay on his bed he asked Harry (they still had side by side beds) how practice went.
Half-asleep Harry yawned, "Well when we got there the Slytherins already had the pitch, but they were almost done so we waited." He yawned and rubbed at his eyes to try and think a little clearer, "You should have seen them, Malfoy may not be able to find the Snitch, but their Beater Livida Sperare…"
"Yah," Ron prompted, just loud enough to wake Harry up again.
"Right," Harry stirred a little, "well she's better than last year." After a moment of rather awkward silence from Ron, Harry rose up on one elbow, "We didn't play last year. I guess I kind of forgot that…"
Ron could see the worry on Harry's face and the darker memories that were beginning to cloud his eyes, "Hey," he sounded too chipper and he knew it, "I just had the worst detention of the year so far ya wanna hear about it?"
The second half of the Chapter:
A good solid knock at the main doors summoned Filch from his nightly rounds. He opened one of the double doors and scowled at the youngish man who stood before him, "Eh?" he grunted.
With a flick of his wrist the pale stranger held forth a calling card, "I believe Headmaster Dumbledore is expecting me." Grey eyes behind round framed grey lensed glasses regarded the sour man for a moment then dropped to the equally tattered cat rubbing against the door frame. "Oh," he shifted the messenger bag at his side and crouched, holding a hand out to the feline, "you are a pretty one. You must be Mrs. Norris, he's told me about you."
Filch looked on jealously as his furry companion gave a rasp-like purr and pushed her head against the man's knuckles, "An' what 'uold you be expectin' at this 'ere time o' night?" Holding his arms up as though cradling a baby Filch clucked his tongue, the cat leapt up and pushed her forehead along his jaw.
"You're a very lucky man to have the loyalty of such a one as her." He stood, again at eye level with the man blocking the door, he nodded to the card that Filch now held, "My business is with the Headmaster and Alastor Moody. If you don't mind too much I would like to speak with them about it, not you."
Just up the hall from the Gargoyle guarded door to the Headmaster's office, Mrs. Norris jumped from Filches shoulder and trotted toward a classroom door that stood suspiciously ajar. Her lamp-like eyes glowed faintly in the dark as she cast her master a questioning look.
"A student out and about at this hour?" he gave a very good impression of a grinning skull. "You jus' keep track of em, my sweet an' I'll be along soon as I get 'im to the 'eadmaster's." Minus one scruffy cat they made it to Dumbledore's study. Handing the calling card to Albus, Filch did not bother to lower his voice, "I don' take to 'avin' freaks runnin' about any more 'n I do students, but 'e claims yer expectin' 'im."
Dumbledore seemed a little tense, but Filch knew he could take care of himself and headed back down the spiraling escalator to chase down whom ever had been foolish enough to catch Mrs. Norris' attention.
Stepping back from the door Albus invited his guest to take a seat by the fire, remembering better just in time, he offered a seat on the other side of the room instead. "Doctor-" he glanced back at the card to make sure he was not mistaken, "Doctor Ignatius."
He tried to smile pleasantly, "I believe retired Auror, Alastor Moody is currently employed here… I think he would appreciate being sent for now."
The abrupt manner, Albus tried to write off as simply polite for a Vampire. The haircut and clothing he decided were personal taste, and therefor more indicative of the individual he was dealing with. 'Mullet, I think that's what they used to call that particular cut… never very popular in Wizarding circles. Dark lab-coat instead of a jacket, and Victorian sunglasses, just the sort I would expect Severus to run with.' "If you will excuse me a moment I will call him," he smiled and went to his desk. Using the Tele-orb he summoned Alastor.
~
"The elusive Doctor Ignatius," Alastor had not offered his hand as he entered the room and took a seat, and neither had the Vampire. "So, what do you want now?"
"Starch Ignatius," he stated. At the look Alastor gave him, he smiled, "it's only fair. I know your names, and a great deal more." Pulling several Muggle style manila-folders out of his bag, the smile went from slightly aloof to lethal, "I know what you did." He slapped the five files on the small table they were sitting around. "All I'm here for is one answer… why didn't you kill him while you still had the chance?" Silence for nearly half an hour followed his statement.
"What do you think you know?" a pale Albus asked after looking over two files that bore the name Severus Snape and one labeled Snape Severus.
Alastor had made a preliminary scan of the files labeled Severa Moody he was now rereading select parts while paying close attention to the Vampire with his magical eye.
Though his gaze was wandering over the room and the various artifacts on the shelves, Starch was acutely aware of the tense Wizards, especially where their hands were in comparison to their wands. "I know almost everything I need to know in order to make my next move. Except why you didn't kill him when you had the chance."
"The obvious question being, what makes you think that we want him dead." Alastor's challenge waited for an answer.
Starch looked to Albus with mild amusement, "Is he really the best they could find? I mean they couldn't find anyone else that had enough power and purity in their blood, they had to go with him?"
"Alastor," Albus placed a hand on his friend's sleeve, turning to Starch, "You run with him then, you're close with him?"
Slouching into the soft back of his chair Starch took off his sunglasses, "He runs with me, no one runs with him. Of course he's made contacts outside of your knowledge. With what you know of him, does it surprise you? Survival is his instinctive goal, he was asking for your help and now it is too late. Snape is too strong. So again I ask, why didn't you kill him when you were asked to?"
"Too many he's and him's," Alastor leaned forward, shrugging off Albus' hand, "What do you call him, so we can keep everything straight."
With a soft chuckle Starch leaned forward as well, "I'm not so foolish as to think that I could pin a name on someone who isn't even real to themselves. What would that accomplish, another hiding place, another false front? I only ask why you didn't help him because I want to know if you will help me- and don't even think about drawing that wand Moody I'm already dead."
"According to these reports," Albus waved a hand over the open folders and broke the stand off, "they are both rejecting the grafts. Do you know if they have matured enough to survive separation?"
"They have not grown as they should have, you probably noticed this."
Albus was reminded of the shock he had felt, just before the first Magical Self-defense class, seeing that the harness still fit the male. Alastor was remembering an incident that had come up the last time he had visited Severa before she came to Hogwarts. She was wearing a bracelet that she had had since she was thirteen. It had fit then and was snug now, but without a resizing charm it shouldn't have fit at all.
Starch saw a sort of confirmation in the two wizards' faces, "With out enough room to grow they were stunted, physically and developmentally. It has taken longer for them to reach, if you'll excuse the expression, full Manna. I believe they have caught up with themselves now and are as fully developed as they will ever be. Runts, with more power than anything since the creation of the first Unicorn." He rose and pushed his chair in to the table, "I hope your Unspeakable Ministry is pleased with what they were able to do, Garoms of old, walking among us again." Putting on his shades he headed for the door, "Don't bother getting up I can find my own way. You will help, I can see that much. I have something to give them then I'll go."
"They are the last," Albus spoke softly. "The others were eliminated when the program was canceled."
"Canceled?! Do you mean to say," Starch recrossed the threshold and leaned in, his fists on the table, "that you were involved in a program that illegal and when it was shut down you stole them?!" He shook his head, "Three thousand yeas ago the Atlantians made the use of magic to enhance interspecies eugenics illegal for a reason-"
"Early in the war," Alastor interrupted, "our best projections had us loosing, all of the projections really, the only difference being how much time we had left. We had less time as Voldemort intensified his campaign. It was decided that alternative means needed to be found to win. Reconstructing the Garom race seemed like the best chance we had."
Starch shook his head, 'Assassins, they wanted assassins to defeat the Dark Lord. If the Ministry catches them-' "You're walking Dementor chow the both of you." With a final glance from Albus to Alastor and back he shoved away from the table and left to find his friend.
"That," Alastor said looking to the now closed door, "is the first hyperactive Ancient I have ever met."