Chapter 25

Losses and gains II

When, after what seemed like an eternity, Elizabeth finally woke up again, with almost no pain to speak of and feeling extremely refreshed (although a little dizzy), the infirmary was unusually peaceful. Madam Pomfrey wasn't bustling about for once, most of the patients were either sleeping or staring at the ceiling with a look of apathy, and, strangely enough, there were none of the usual chattering visitors crowding around the beds, either, with the only sound (apart from the snoring coming from the bed next to her) Elizabeth was able to register being a quiet murmur of voices coming from somewhere near the door.

'Great,' she thought unhappily. 'Just great. It seems that all I'm supposed to do now is to simply lie back in my little hospital bed, worry about nothing, keep quiet, and busy myself with either staring at the ceiling or attempting to fall asleep again. Well, that's just not good enough! I want something to read, if nothing else! Hermione, where are you when I need you the most?'

Here, Elizabeth's train of thoughts was suddenly broken by the sound of approaching footsteps, with any remaining bits of boredom immediately leaving her mind when she discovered just who the incoming person was.

'Maybe I am in heaven, after all,' she mused, watching none other than Severus Snape making his way towards (she refused to believe her eyes) *her* bed.

Yet, it seemed that it was indeed she whom he had come to see, having come to a standstill by *her* bedside, giving *her* a nod of acknowledgement, and even, although somewhat reluctantly, accepting the chair that *she* had offered him.

With the formalities over and done with, however, a rather uncomfortable silence set in, during which Elizabeth, very much aware of how monstrous all the injuries must make her look in his eyes ('But then again, he had already seen me like this before anyway, so there's really no point in trying to cover myself up'), regarded Snape both anxiously and expectantly, while the Potions master, his eyes set firmly on the glass of water standing on the bedside table, seemed to be deciding on how to begin.

"You might be wondering why I am here, Miss Woodhouse," he said finally, his gaze now meeting Elizabeth's. The girl held her breath in quiet anticipation. "Well ... strange as it may seem, I have come to thank you..." (it seemed to take an enormous amount of effort for him to finish the sentence) "...for saving my life."

Elizabeth looked at him in disbelief, slowly letting his words sink in. Did she just hear what she thought she did? Was he really ... *thanking* her? For saving his life, no less? But...

"How ... how do you know about that?" she asked as soon as she found her voice again. "I thought you didn't see-"

"The Headmaster told me," said Snape curtly, making it sound almost as though he wished Dumbledore had kept his sightings to himself. "*He* was the one who saw it all happen."

"Oh," said Elizabeth, and then, not really knowing what had possessed her to even think of such a question, let alone ask it, added: "And I suppose he also told you to come and thank me, didn't he?"

Needless to say, she instantly regretted her rash words, and the poisonous (but, unless Elizabeth's eyes had deceived her, also slightly hurt) look Snape sent her way only caused the enormous wave of self-loathing that had immediately filled her mind to gain in intensity.

She opened her mouth in an attempt to produce some sort of awkward apology, but Snape spoke first.

"Would it make any difference if he did?" he asked testily.

"No, I suppose not," would've surely been the appropriate answer in this situation, but, for reasons unknown, the words that left Elizabeth's mouth in the end sounded suspiciously like: "All the difference." She really felt like slapping herself. Did she always have to be so damn sincere? She wasn't under Veritaserum, after all, which meant she *could* theoretically come up with some plausible half-lie if the moment really asked for it, but no, she had to-

"And what exactly do you mean by that, Miss Woodhouse?" inquired Snape, now sounding mildly interested.

Elizabeth looked at her hands. "Nothing. Please forget it, Professor." There. That was certainly better.

Snape eyed her thoughtfully for a few moments, but, to Elizabeth's relief, didn't press the subject any further. Instead he said: "Tell me, Miss Woodhouse, why *did* you throw yourself so unwisely into the path of the curse that was aimed at me? Surely you must have realized that you could never produce the charm to protect you from its effects in time?"

"Well, seems like I *haven't* realized it," retorted Elizabeth, seriously considering whether it wouldn't have been better if he had stuck to the previous subject after all. Why was he asking her such a question, anyway? What was he getting at? "I thought I'd manage."

Snape, however, didn't seem to believe a word of what she was saying. "Oh, come now, Miss Woodhouse," he said softly. "I had the chance to examine your combat skills on more than one occasion, and I daresay your judgement seemed perfectly fine to me."

"Well, maybe I wasn't thinking clearly, then," suggested Elizabeth, trying and failing to determine whether Snape had meant his last words as a compliment or not. "All I knew was that I had to prevent that curse from hitting you no matter what. I would've done the same for anybody had they been in your place," she added hastily, hoping she hadn't given up too much as it was.

"Yes, but you shouldn't have done it for me," said Snape stiffly. "My life isn't worth you risking yours."

Elizabeth couldn't believe what she was hearing. Did he really think so little of himself? "That's a horrible thing to say, sir," she said reprovingly. "Your life is as good as anybody else's."

Snape shook his head. "That is exactly where you are wrong, Miss Woodhouse, seeing you know nothing of my past. Which is just as well," he added as an afterthought.

"I know more than you think, sir," smiled Elizabeth, "and still I stand by what I said."

Snape sat up a little straighter in his chair, his eyes narrowing. "And what exactly is it that you know, Miss Woodhouse?" he asked quietly.

'That sounded almost as though he were expecting me to start blackmailing him,' thought Elizabeth amusedly, taking a moment to decide whether to tell him pretty much everything she had come to learn of his life, or whether she'd better leave some of the more touchy subjects out; in the end she settled for the former.

"Well," she began slowly, relishing the feeling of having the upper-hand for once, "for one thing, I know just how badly you were treated while still a student here, especially by the Marauders. I mean, they almost killed you, didn't they?" She paused, perceiving Snape's eyes flash menacingly at the mere memory. Obviously, even after all these years, he still hadn't managed to get over it. She pretended not to have noticed, however, and quickly went on: "Secondly, I know you have joined the Death Eaters at one stage, but I also know that you have eventually come to realize your mistake, and, at great personal risk, became a spy for the side of the Light. You have also accepted Dumbledore's offer to teach Potions here at Hogwarts, even though it was really the Defence Against the Dark Arts position you were after. And ... that's about it, I'd say."

She cast a sheepish glance in Snape's direction in order to determine whether her words had affected him in any way, but the Potions master seemed lost in thought, his expression as unreadable as ever. It was only some time later that he finally spoke.

"You are no doubt well informed, Miss Woodhouse," he said cooly and, with the air of someone who already knows the answer beforehand, added: "Miss Granger's doing, I presume?"

Elizabeth chuckled. "Partly, yes. But I also learned a lot from my grandmother." She threw Snape a knowing look. "You used to know my grandmother, didn't you, sir?"

Now, was it just her imagination or did Snape really look a little uncomfortable when he answered in the affirmative? Elizabeth, eager to confirm her theory no matter what, felt like beating herself into a pulp after realizing just how very inappropriate her next question must have seemed. Unfortunately, though, it was too late to take her words back, and so...

"And did you know that she suspects you of having a crush on her back in your schooldays? I was always wondering whether she was right..."

Unsurprisingly, the look Snape sent her was truly murderous. "I believe that is hardly any business of yours, Miss Woodhouse," he said coldly, getting to his feet. "Now, if you'll excuse me – I believe you have another visit." And without another word, he swiftly set off towards the door, his black robes billowing behind him.

Elizabeth closed her eyes in exasperation. Now she'd done it! There weren't many chances of him coming back to talk to her after getting asked stupid questions like that, were there? Then again, she still couldn't believe that he had actually come to visit her (and what's more – to *thank* her) in the first place, and then even stayed on for a short chat, during which he had, for the first time in her life, treated her not as a student, but as the human being that she really was. Shouldn't that be enough to keep her happy? Why did she always have to wish for more than she could get?

She had no time to dissect her feelings any further, however, for, as Snape had forewarned her, there were more people who had come to pay her a visit. They were, of course, none other than Hermione and Neville, while Jane seemed to have got stuck at one of the beds near the door, which, Elizabeth presumed, was where her boyfriend, Justin Finch-Fletchley, lay.

"Hi, Elizabeth," said Hermione, tiredly sinking down into the seat Snape had vacated only a few moments earlier. Neville claimed the empty chair next to her. "Feeling better? I must say we were somewhat reluctant to leave you the last time we came to visit you; you didn't look well at all."

"Well, I think I'm all right now," Elizabeth assured her. "Madam Pomfrey gave me some sort of potion, I fell asleep, and when I woke up again, the pain was gone."

"Thank god," sighed Hermione, clearly relieved. "Anyway, what did Snape want with you? I didn't like his expression at all when he brushed past us on his way towards the door. He looked ... kind of upset, I suppose. Or maybe angry. Or disappointed. Or perhaps all of those ... I don't know; it was really hard to tell."

"Well, I suppose he had every reason to feel that way," muttered Elizabeth, proceeding to give her friends a quick summary of her recent conversation with the Potions master, including its awkward end.

When she had finished, Hermione, her face acquiring its old, know-it-all look, only nodded understandingly and said: "Yes, well, I don't think I need to tell you that asking him about the crush thing wasn't a particularly bright idea, but otherwise it didn't seem to go too bad, did it? I mean, he actually spoke to you; he even thanked you, which, in my opinion, must have been terribly difficult for him, seeing he's used to taking care of himself and not having others there to protect him ... and then, of course, there was that supposed hurt look he gave you after you'd asked him whether it was Dumbledore who had sent him to thank you ... *that* especially might be something to go by in our attempt to determine what his feelings towards you most likely are."

Elizabeth frowned. "I don't see how. To me it was just another moment where I got carried away and said something I shouldn't have."

"Maybe, and maybe not. Personally I think it proved that he's not as indifferent when it comes to your opinion of him as he'd like us all to believe. And what's more, I have a feeling that even if Dumbledore *had* told him to go and thank you, it was only saying something he had already decided to do anyway."

Elizabeth looked doubtful. "You really think so?"

"Yes," said Hermione positively, "as a matter of fact I do. And he chose a very good time to do it, too ... stealing away from the Great Hall while everybody was celebrating Voldemort's defeat to ensure that there'd be no visitors around ... very clever. Speaking of which, I almost forgot to tell you about the whole ceremony thing Dumbledore's decided to organize today..."

But Elizabeth soon found that nor the description of Dumbledore's tribute to the dead, nor the incredible party that had broken out afterwards were of any particular interest to her, and she slowly let her own thoughts take over.

Was Hermione right about Snape? Did he really care about her opinion of him? Would he have come to thank her even if Dumbledore hadn't told him to? Would he come to visit her again?

'Maybe to the first three, definitely not to the last one,' she thought sadly. 'But that's what I get for not keeping my big mouth shut. I really should think more about what I say or don't say next time. But since there won't be a next time, it doesn't really matter that much any more, does it?'

Choosing to abandon her depressive thoughts before she'd get too far, Elizabeth willed herself to at least *try* to listen to Hermione's excited account of the evening's events, simply to keep her mind occupied.

"...and you know what?" the Gryffindor was saying. "Dumbledore said that they're going to move Hagrid to St Mungo's for the time being. There's currently a research going on concentrating on the victims of a Dementor's kiss, so maybe there's still some hope left for him, after all."

"That's great, Hermione," said Elizabeth, trying to sound enthusiastic despite the fact that Hagrid was the last thing on her mind at that moment. "Anyway, did Dumbledore also say anything about classes resuming any time soon?"

Hermione shook her head. "No. I think it'll probably take quite some time before he manages to find suitable replacements for all the teachers who've perished during the battle, and I suppose he's also waiting for all the excitement to die down a little before he lets the younger students return from their homes. There are reporters all over the place, you see, which would probably make it somewhat difficult to run the classes without interruption."

"Reporters?" asked Elizabeth, puzzled. "I haven't seen any yet."

"Well, that's because Madam Pomfrey's put heavy charms on the infirmary door to prevent them from getting in. She thinks it would disturb the patients, and I really can't help but agree with her."

But Elizabeth never got the chance to express her own opinion on the matter, for at that moment, said Madam Pomfrey suddenly appeared by her bedside and uncompromisingly shooed both of her friends away, claiming that it was, once again, bedtime.

Hermione, however, had one more statement to make before leaving Elizabeth solely in the comapany of the elderly mediwitch. "Err, about the crush-on- your-grandmother issue – something tells me that most likely he *did* actually have a thing for her. He could've just as well answered 'no' to your question instead of 'it's none of your business', couldn't he?" She gave her a barely recognizable wink. "Think about it."

***

Following Hermione's suggestion to the fullest extent, 'thinking about it' was exactly what Elizabeth did do, soon coming to the conclusion that the Gryffindor had, in all probability, been right. She would never know for sure though, seeing she wasn't suicidal enough to bring the subject up again in Snape's presence – something she craved for more than anything in the world right now, with not even her friends' frequent visits and the enormous pile of books, including 'The Book of Expert Potions for Expert Brewers', Hermione had brought her being able to change that fact. But as almost four days had passed since the Potions master's last appearance, she was slowly giving up even the last remains of hope on his ever coming to visit her again, and consequently doing her best, although with little success, to find some pleasure in reading. Therefore imagine her surprise (and shock) when, later that day, she happened to raise her eyes from the book she was reading only to see the very man she had been thinking about so intensely lately standing by her bedside, holding a small stack of books in his arms and eyeing her thoughtfully.

"Good day, Professor," she said as soon as she'd regained her composure, quickly shutting her book and placing it on the bedside table. "Please sit down."

Snape obeyed, proceeding, as always, straight to the point. "As you might have heard, Miss Woodhouse, the Headmaster is in desperate need of replacements for some of our deceased colleagues. Therefore, he has sent me to ask you whether you would be willing to accept the position of a Potions teacher ... after you are released from the hospital wing, of course. You'd get all the necessary tuition until then, and therefore would no longer need to spend the usual two years as a teacher's aide. There'd be no use in continuing your classes, either, seeing the Headmaster's chosen to cancel all exams, including the NEWTs, this year." Needless to say, Snape looked disgusted at the very thought. "You have two days to decide, unless, of course, you can give me an answer straight away."

Elizabeth felt like her brain was about to explode from an information overload. She'd have to take this slowly, one thing after another. Firstly, Snape had not come of his own accord. That was not exactly positive, but then again, what did she expect? Secondly, judging by his cold tone, he was probably still slightly angry with her for her impertinent question concerning his crush on her grandmother. Therefore, she'd have to sort that out before she'd say or do anything else.

"I will do my best to give you my answer today, Professor," she said calmly, "but first of all I'd like to apologize; it was not my place to ask you such a personal question last time, and I promise it won't happen again." Snape looked a little surprised by her statement, but didn't say anything, which, seeing it was probably the closest to forgiveness she would ever get from him, Elizabeth took as a cue to continue. "Then I would like to ask – how come Dumbledore's asking me to teach *Potions*, of all things?" Her voice nearly failed her when she added: "Does ... does it mean that you're leaving?"

She stopped herself just in time from letting out a huge sigh of relief when Snape shook his head. "No, Miss Woodhouse. I was merely given another position."

Elizabeth took a pretty safe guess. "Defence Against the Dark Arts?"

"Yes."

"Oh, that's great, sir," said Elizabeth cordially. "I mean, it was about time for you to get the job, wasn't it? You've been asking for it for ages, after all. Although I must say I don't really see why; Potions is definitely the more interesting subject out of the two."

"You think so, Miss Woodhouse?" Snape asked with a smirk. "Well, I suppose that for you it might be. But I have always believed that, after spending so many years in the company of Dark wizards, and therefore learning to predict their every move quite accurately, my experience would be of better use in the Defence Against the Dark Arts area. For, despite what some of my former colleagues might have thought, Defence Against the Dark Arts is most certainly *not* something that can be mastered only with the help of a textbook – it is an extremely complex subject which requires a wide variety of skills, with at least a basic understanding of the way a Dark wizard's mind works definitely being one of them."

"That's what Mrs Figg told us too," said Elizabeth thoughtfully. "And she also didn't use textbooks if she could help it."

A shadow passed over Snape's pale face. "Mrs Figg," he said slowly, "was an exceptional teacher. Her death had been a great loss for all of us."

He fell silent, and Elizabeth was suddenly sure that apart from Dumbledore, Mrs Figg was probably the only person at Hogwarts Snape had considered a friend. No wonder her death had been such a blow for him. Feeling the need to change the subject as soon as possible, she asked: "Sir, if it's not too personal, why did Dumbledore wait until now to give you the job? I mean, he must have had a pretty good reason for it if he preferred even somebody like Lockhart to you."

Snape pursed his lips together at the mere mention of Lockhart's name; obviously Dumbledore's choice to give the job to such a poor excuse for a wizard had hurt the Potions master's pride more than anything. For a while, Elizabeth was convinced he wouldn't even react to the question she had given him, and therefore was more than happy to be eventually proved wrong.

"The answer to that is very simple, Miss Woodhouse," he said dryly. "He didn't trust me ... at least not enough to let me hold such a responsible position. I believe he felt that if I returned to the Dark Arts too soon, I would fall victim to them once again."

"That makes the Dark Arts comparable to alcohol or drugs, doesn't it?" mused Elizabeth. "Still, what had made Dumbledore decide that your probation is finally over?"

Snape gave her a challenging look. "Surely it is not so hard to figure out, Miss Woodhouse?" he asked. "I trust Miss Granger has already acquainted you with all the important features of the 'Fulgur Albus'?"

"Yes," confirmed Elizabeth, "but I don't see... Oh, I know! The fact that you have been able to perform the white lightning along with the others was the last bit of proof Dumbledore needed to be entirely sure that there was indeed no more darkness left in you. Otherwise, the spell wouldn't have worked and Voldemort-" (Elizabeth noticed that even now, when the Dark Lord had been killed, Snape couldn't help but flinch at the mention of his name) "-would still be alive. Is that right, sir?"

Snape looked satisfied. "Yes, Miss Woodhouse. Now, if you don't mind, I think it is time we returned to the original purpose of my visit, which is the Headmaster's offer to give you a job. So if you've got any further questions concerning that..."

Elizabeth didn't have to think long. "Yes, sir. Why did Dumbledore pick me? Surely there must be a whole bunch of people who are more qualified for the job than I am, so I don't really see why..." She trailed off, giving Snape an expectant look.

The Potions master sighed. "You might be surprised, Miss Woodhouse, but there are really only a few individuals who would fulfill the requirements for the job, none of whom have agreed to accept the offer, unfortunately."

"Oh, I see. Have you tried asking Hermione?"

"Yes, Miss Woodhouse. She declined."

"Did she?" asked Elizabeth absently. "Well, I suppose she thought it better to pursue the originally planned Healer career, after all." She paused to think. Was there any reason for her to mull over the offer any further? Hadn't she already decided on becoming a teacher as it was? She looked at Snape, who was once again watching her thoughtfully, and came to an immediate conclusion. "I ... I think I'll do it, sir. I presume *you* are going to be the one tutoring me?"

"Yes," confirmed Snape impassively, but Elizabeth couldn't help but feel that there was something in his voice ... something... Could he really think that she'd change her mind after that particular answer? That the vision of *him* teaching her would put her off? Well, if that was the case, then maybe it would be a good idea to prove him wrong...

"All right," she said cheerfully. "When do we begin?"

Snape looked at her as if she had finally lost it (thus definitely confirming her previous suspicion and making her, not without a certain degree of frustration, wonder whether he'd ever realize that while others might hate him, she most certainly didn't), but eventually said: "Tomorrow. I will be here shortly after dinner. Until then-" he put the stack of books he had brought with him on the already overflowing bedside table "-I want you to read these." He tapped the pile with his index finger, then rose from his chair. "Needless to say, it would help considerably if you could also reproduce what you have read. Now, unless you have any more questions- "

Elizabeth, her brain feverishly processing what was being asked of her, quickly glanced up. "Yes, there's actually still something I'd like to know," she said firmly, slightly hurt by the cold impersonal tone Snape had suddenly resorted to. "How often will you be coming to teach me?"

Snape was beginning to look irritated. "Every day," he said testily.

Elizabeth couldn't believe her ears. Would she really get to see him so often? "Even on the weekends?" she asked timidly.

"Miss Woodhouse," sighed Snape, evidently resigning on getting away with another short answer, "contrary to what you might think, you cannot turn into a teacher in a matter of hours. It is something that takes time – days and days of endless studies and tutoring by another teacher, and even then you will be only partly prepared for what will come to meet you in the classroom. Therefore the answer to your question is yes – even on the weekends."

Elizabeth simply nodded and smiled – a sad but grateful smile that closely reflected the impact that his words had had upon her. "Thank you, sir," she said quietly.

Snape looked at her uncomprehendingly. "I beg your pardon?"

"I said thank you," repeated Elizabeth solemnly. "For giving up your weekends, for being such a wonderful teacher, for managing to teach me so much already, for ... for everything."

Now, where on earth did *that* come from? It was all true, of course, but would Snape interpret her words the way he was meant to? Apparently not, judging from the odd, somewhat surprised look he had given her, but he quickly recovered and, with a curt "Good day, Miss Woodhouse," gracefully spun around and set off for the exit, leaving Elizabeth to ponder over how seemingly impossible it was to tear down that unbelievably solid wall he had managed to put up around him. He had all but fled the hospital wing, after all.

As promised, he was back the next day, however, with a whole lot of tricky questions for her to answer, a lecture on what to expect from the students and how to handle whatever it is they might come up with, and, inevitably, also another dose of books for her to read – something she was hoping to leave out this time, having had enough trouble stuffing her brain with the enormous amount of information contained in the volumes he had left with her the day before. Her memory had never been exactly great, after all (as the OWLs had proved more than sufficiently), and she knew it only too well. Fortunately, though, she was still perfectly capable of coming up with a good idea or two, and as such had managed to think of asking Hermione for some of the memory boosting potion which, while originally developed for Neville's incredible forgetfulness, was now used widely all over the school whenever the exam period threatened to get too close. And although the Gryffindor had never succeeded in making its effects permanent, the one month duration she had eventually ended up with was, in everyone's opinion, still better than nothing. Elizabeth's memory had indeed improved quite drastically, causing the girl to answer all of Snape's questions concerning her daily reading with relative ease, and that was all that mattered to her.

A/N: I know I'm horrible for keeping you all waiting for so long, but, as I've said last time, I don't have much time for writing these days. And when I do, it still doesn't mean that I get to write something, because I usually write on my brother's computer, and when he feels like playing games on it, I have to let him. Furthermore, this chapter is incredibly difficult to write, which means I sometimes spend as much as two hours pondering over one paragraph.

Well, I have also promised to finish this chapter the next time I update, but seeing that I know for a fact that it's still going to take me ages to get done (it's just getting longer and longer!), I thought I'd give you something to read for the time being. I've already got about four more pages written, though.

Anyway, thank you so much for all the lovely reviews, as well for your patience, and I hope this chapter didn't disappoint you. Cheers!

The Evil Cup of Tea: That's cool you haven't decided to give up on your stories; I'm really looking forward to reading more of your 'ultimate HP parody' :) I'm glad you liked the half-chapter thing; looks like it was actually only a third of a chapter, after all. I'm beginning to wonder whether this chapter will ever end. This part is even longer than the last one, so I hope you won't have any trouble reading it in one go :) Character development? Oh, well, I'm glad you see it that way, because there's more of it in this chapter, but at least it concerns Snape. I feel really sorry for you because of the asthma and all; is there any chance of it getting better? Or is it just on and off, with not much you can do about it? Anyway, I hope that at least the infection leaves you alone soon, thank you for another wonderful review (one of your top three fave fics, you say? I'm flattered!), and I'm looking forward to hearing from you again soon!

ALittleBitOfDarkness: *shrinks back in fear* All right, all right, here's the next chapter, just don't hurt me, OK? I know it took a long time, and I also know it's *still* not finished, but I'm really doing what I can... You really got me laughing with your comments about Snape ... I wouldn't mind him in boxers, either, but remember – he doesn't wear boxers ... he wears underpants :( Come to think of it, I wouldn't mind him even if he was fully dressed. Or even completely naked ... um, OK, I'd better stop there :) Yeah, even though I don't really like Hagrid all that much, I also felt like crying while writing that passage. Maybe there's still some hope for him, though. Anyway, thank you very very much for the amusing review, and I hope to hear from you again!

Queen Of Zan: Well, I'm glad to hear that you didn't starve to death, and that your room is nice and tidy :) Gee you really do like almost everyone from the books! As for me, I wouldn't really mind if there were no other characters as long as Snape was in there :) I would be OK with going to school if I didn't have a fic to write, but as it is, I'd much rather stay at home. If only I had at least one day off during the week! Well, I'm really glad to know that I've been able to get you to like Snape a little more, and I definitely must go and read that fic of yours sometime. Anyway, thank you for reviewing, and I hope you enjoy this new third-chapter, or whatever it is.

Claudia Rocks: I don't really remember much from Melbourne, unfortunately, as it's been quite some time ago since I've been there, but if my Australia plans work out next year, I might go to the Australian Open. Anyway, yeah, the last chapter wasn't particularly cheerful, so I hope this one's a little better. Thanks for reviewing, and I'd love to hear from you again!

Ilovstationary: I know the last chapter was sad, but I really think that a great victory like that needs some victims. Even Rowling herself said there's be many more deaths in the books before the series is over. Anyway, thanks for reviewing, and I hope you find this chapter a little more cheerful.

An Anti-Sheep Cheese Muffin: Well, I don't think your nickname is weird and far out, but I must admit I don't really get what it means, either (could you explain, please?). It just sounds cool. I'm sorry to have killed many of your fave characters; it's just that I, unfortunately, didn't like them that much. But I've killed some of my faves too – Draco and Lucius, for example. Anyway, I didn't exactly *kill* Hagrid, which means, as Hermione had hinted, that there might still be some hope for him. I'll see what I can do. Well, I'm really really sorry for the slow update; I suppose you'll probably hate me now, but I'm doing my best. Please be nice and don't fry me! But anyway, thank you very much for reviewing, and I hope you liked this chapter even if it took so long to write.

FireValkyrie: Yeah, Pirates is an excellent movie, you just can't help but love Johnny Depp in there. He should've got an Oscar, not just a nomination!!! But everything else in the movie is cool as well, and I'm also very curious about the sequel. Although sequels are usually not as good as the first part, in my opinion. Well, as for this fic, I haven't *exactly* reached the fun stuff yet, but I'm getting close. There are some conversations with Snape in this chapter where he's being civil, so I'd love to know if you think he's still IC. Anyway, thank you so much for reviewing again, and congratulations on that *enormous* amount of reviews! I wish I had so many...

Summner: I'm also glad you're back, and that you enjoyed the battle chapter so much. I loved writing the bit with Draco; I really wanted to show that deep inside he's not such a complete bastard. It's just the way he was brought up. Hee, hee, yes, Elizabeth's stay in the hospital wing is indeed going to be quite interesting. I think it's already clear from this chapter, but the next one will be even better. Well, anyway, I hope that you liked this new update, and that I'll get to hear from you again soon. BTW, I can totally imagine how annoying getting a new computer to work must be; my brother had to reinstall ours only a couple of days ago, and he was going ballistic.

Padfoot's Girl: I'm really sorry for killing off two of your fave characters, but, as you know, I wasn't all that fond of them myself. I killed some of my favourite characters too, though, so I hope that makes up for it at least a little. I'm glad you liked the last chapter; I think you can see now that maybe the six weeks won't be so bad for Elizabeth, after all. You were quite right about Snape coming to visit her :) As for the battle chapter being rushed – I don't know, but I think that the way it's written sort of conveys the battle atmosphere better than if I took it slowly. Battles are confusing, and stuff happens really quickly in them. That's why I put the Draco scene in – to slow it down a little, but otherwise it had to be nice and swift. Anyway, thank you so much for reviewing again, and I hope you enjoy this new update as well.

Coolspot: Thank you; I'm glad you're enjoying the story. I'm sorry the update wasn't as fast as you probably would've liked, but I hope you've stuck around to read it anyway. Thanks again for the review!