Jinx, staring out window: Man, this winter just won't quit...
rabbit: I know... every time it seems like Spring's arrived, it goes and snows again...
Jinx: Yeah... it just won't stop... (shakes head) It really lowers one's morale... it's like standing in the Staff Room, watching the Weasley Twins romping back to school for another year...
THINK SPRING!
rabbit and vJinxv
Qualifying Finalists for the North American Automotive Snowbroom Quidditch League
If you're lucky enough not to know what this is, it's a gadget with a broom at one end and an ice scraper at the other. Currently we can wield 'em like quarterstaves.
Ramifications Chapter 9
Sirius Black protested anxiously, "Oh, James, you shouldn't have!"
He stared in radiant dismay at Snape, who was thrashing about on the floor, covered in horse dung and entangled in a froth of glittering ribbons. The trussed-up swot resembled nothing so much as a bat which had crash-landed in a little girl's knitting basket.
Black shook his head grimly, and sighed, "Giftwrapped Greaseball... and I didn't get you anything "
Potter grinned and handed him the wand, inviting graciously, "Surprise me."
Malfoy wished fervently that he had chosen a thicker haybale as shelter. In France.
Crabbe asked wearily, "Should we help him now?"
"No." Black was armed and Snape was conscious. No one with an ounce of sense would get between them.
Crabbe and Goyle obediently hunkered down atop their peerless leader, presenting an arguably smaller target as they waited for the worst of the storm to pass.
Lucius unhappily was still Responsible For Snape's General Welfare During This Nightmare Of A Detention and so he diligently squirmed 'round enough to get a clear view of the unfolding disaster, in order that he might Accurately Recount Events to the Aurors when they finally showed up.
Sev was writhing furiously, like a slug at the bottom of a slowly heating cauldron. Black was grinning and taking aim.
Out in the pasture something wailed like the Hogwarts Express derailing.
Everyone froze, staring at the barn doors which were looking thinner by the minute.
Black crashed to the floor in a heap; Snape had managed somehow to ensnare his foe's ankles in the sparkling ribbons. A fray ensued literally, during which the half-mummified muckmeddler succeeded in grabbing ahold of the illicit wand. Snape snarled something which was presumably a hex but it was never going to work through all the ribbons and spit.
Black, clinging two-fisted to the proper end of the wand, shouted, "Torquere!" There was a silverblue flash and Snape flew three feet straight up into the air and started spinning like an offkilter gyroscope, the ribbons binding him more tightly as he whirled.
Crabbe asked perfunctorily, "Should we help him now?"
"NO." There was no point adding to the body count. Malfoy and his minions huddled together, generally regretting the absence of a convenient trapdoor leading to sanctuary. Sev was really going to Lose It But Good whenever he got loose.
Black, apparently heedless of this danger, scrambled back onto his feet and hastily charmed the muck off himself. "Eugh! What have we told you, Snape, you shouldn't touch people!" He shook himself for good measure, then resumed his perilous grin. "Now, where was I?"
Unfortunately not in Azkaban... but that could change once the Aurors showed up. The Gryffindors might be claiming Self-Defense but as anyone could see from Sev's uneven midair rotations Snape was Obviously Temporarily Unbalanced.
And in need of educational chastisement for his earlier transgressions...
Black announced brightly to the company general, "Now, I knew this looked familiar! Remember the the piñata Lorenzo had for his birthday?"
Potter laughed. "Oh, yeah!"
Black's grin widened and he asked with a gleam in his eyes, "Remember how we cornered it in the stairwell?"
Pettigrew yelped eagerly, "Let's hang him from the rafters and whack him with sticks!" He darted out from behind the haybale, eager to join the fun.
Malfoy kept firm hold of his minions' collars, muttering, "Not yet, he's just about chewed through "
Pettigrew shrilled, "Sirius, watch out!"
Black dodged backwards just in time as one of the ribbons turned black and unspiraled to reveal a hissing viper's head, which struck like lightning and sank its fangs deep into the wand. With one swift yank the snake delivered the weapon neatly into Snape's one free hand.
"Well, shit." Potter was staring almost curiously at this scene. "That's new "
Pettigrew clambered onto the haybale with him and rather hid behind Potter's cloak.
Black dodged hastily under Snape, and yanked on one of the sparkling ribbons, setting the swot spinning sideways.
Pettigrew warned him, "Sirius, be careful!"
"It's all right, Pete!" Black reassured him breezily. "He's already thrown up as much as possible!"
Snape spat out a mouthful of shredded ribbons and screamed,
"Retexodus!" All of the ribbons whipped loose, tumbling him to a rough stop against a nearby wall. "Whouph!"
Black laughed, and applauded. 'Ten points for Artistic Interpretation... but none for Technical Merit. Too bad, Snape, you were so close!" He shook his head at the pity of it all, sauntering over to the dazed Slytherin. "If only your devastating intellect could be used for good," Black sighed, reaching down to pluck the wand from his dizzied foe.
Snape and the snake both bit him.
As Black doubled over howling, Snape scrambled to his feet and braced himself against the wall and aimed the wand at Potter.
Lucius gave him small odds of success; Sev really needed to overcome his unfortunate habit of frothing at the mouth whilst attempting vengeful spellcraft
Something shiny blurred across the room and glanced off Snape's head; he yelped and toppled over, using words that could have scoured a cauldron.
The mysterious object rolled to a stop not far from Malfoy, who by squinting could see it was a tiny bud of garlic, made of silver, with a variety of sacred symbols carved all over it.
It had to be Pettigrew's. Only he was fool enough to think any of that would work on Snape. Malfoy and his minions had found out during their very first week of school that all the traditional deterrents were ineffective against whatever was hanging upside-down in Sev's family tree.
Lucius at this point assumed Eliminating That Troublesome Swot would require a full-blown Frankensteinian dénouement in some fantastically desolate setting complete with Deranged Revenant steeped to the eyeballs in Dark Magick and personally hell-bent upon Snape's eradication from this Earth.
Another yowl of pain heralded the unmistakable clatter of a wand fallen to the floor. Malfoy said, "Get them and bring the wand to me." He let slip his Dogs of War.
The inevitable melée which ensued was really rather festive, with all those fluttering ribbons and intermittent showers of hay. Cursing, shouting, scratching and biting, in a very short time the combatants found themselves entangled in a great confusion of bodies, all gilded with chaff and trailing rainbows of glittering streamers.
It was strikingly like the last ten surly, giddy minutes of Mardi Gras.
Malfoy grinned as he got ahold of the wand. Potter grinned as he got ahold of Malfoy.
Submerged in the donnybrook, Lucius lost hold of the wand and of course The Situation Generally Degenerated to the level of a Quidditch match, with all hands pursuing the prize. The elusive wand hummed and sparked as various holds and conflicting commands were laid upon it; unaimed hexes churned the air, lashing lightning tongues at random targets. Pettigrew started burping up slugs and gagging withdrew from the fray.
Black turned Purple but seemed otherwise well until Goyle slipped in the squashed slugs and collided with him; both boys thereafter enjoyed a sojourn in Dreamland. Crabbe meanwhile was wholly preoccupied with drooling like a burst pipe, which was making all the squashed slugs even more slippery.
Lucius was laughing heartily at this ridiculous situation, because he was utterly unable to do anything else; he was firmly caught in the grip of a Hilarious Hex as well as Remus Lupin, who had sprouted an extra pair of arms and though still asleep on his feet was doing a fine job of mopping the floor with Malfoy.
Potter, sprouting lush fuchsia fur, had Snape caught in a headlock, until the candystriped Slytherin returned the favor with a more Southerly interpretation. Potter's screech echoed through the barn.
One of the barn owls screeched back in a suggestive manner.
Snape squirmed loose and scrabbled amongst the ribbons and somehow came up with the wand, and took aim at Potter with Divine Retribution lighting his eyes as he snarled, "Restagnio alv "
"I'LL TAKE THAT." Hagrid, moving nimbly as a mother bear, snatched up the glowing wand. Snape's grip on it was so ferocious that the variegated swot ended up dangling in midair, where he was brought glare to glare with the enormous Groundskeeper. "And jus' what d'you think yer doin'?" demanded Hagrid coldly.
Snape stared at him, wild-eyed. Then his lower lip began to tremble, and his expression crumpled into frightened despair as he quavered, "Please, Sir, I'm lost and I can't find my mum!" He began " sniffling wetly, which was not difficult with his nose pouring candystriped blood all down his chin.
Hagrid stared at him narrowly for a moment, and then caught ahold of Snape's cloak and gave him a good long shake.
"Right," said the Groundskeeper, "let's try that again. What. d'you. think, yer. doin'."
Snape's eyes, which looked like two Starlight Mints, were rolling crazily and for some moments he looked as if he might be sick. He seemed to realize, though, that decorating Hagrid would gain him no favor, and he swallowed hard several times, and blinked rapidly, and looked around wonderingly and asked, "Where am I?"
"Detention."
"Really?"
"Really," Hagrid assured him. "Yeh're in the barn, wi' th' rest o' yer mates. Yeh're ter clean this place thoroughly. Yeh've got hours ter go," he said stormily, "an' there's NO MAGIC TER BE
USED FER THE DURATION!"
Snape boggled at him. "But then... how did Potter come to have a wand, and hex me with it?" he asked, patently mystified.
"Er " Hagrid studied the wand.
Snape said, "It's not mine. If it were, it'd be candystriped too. That's how the Merrie Menthallover spell works, of course."
The Groundskeeper nodded thoughtfully. Then he barked,
"James!"
The fuchsia-furred Gryffindor slunk out from behind a haybale, 'and asked sunnily, "Yes, Hagrid?"
Fixing a warning glare on Potter, the Groundskeeper rumbled, "Is this true?"
"Snape used magic first, Hagrid?" Potter protested, shedding with indignation. "He made up some potion they've been using to clean their half of the barn " His voice trailed off as he realized that the knee-deep mess of ribbons and slugsmears and fur and dung completely buried his argument.
"It's true!" Black said loyally. "Make Snape turn out his pockets, Hagrid!" He snarled, "He's probably got half a chemistry set hidden on him right now!"
Snape contrived to glare at him. "Do you really think that likely, when you've just battered me from pillar to post?"
Black countered, "You've got all your stuff bespelled not to break!" He nodded knowingly and went on, "Really you'd have to, just to survive your average schoolday. Make him turn out his pockets, Hagrid!"
The Groundskeeper nodded sagely and announced, "I think yeh ALL should turn outcher pockets." He set Snape down, pocketed the confiscated wand and hefted a large haybale into place before him. "Go on. All o' yeh."
Potter clipped, "Gee, thanks, Sirius."
"Yeah, for nothing," sulked Pettigrew, who was retching and trying to hide something in another haybale.
"You there! Peter! C'mon, you first!" commanded Hagrid.
The pudgy Gryffindor trudged forward, blushing furiously and belching up a fine fat slug along the way. Gracelessly he rummaged through his pockets and with some prompting produced several nibbled bits of cheese sandwich, took one look at these and burped up two more slugs.
Hargrid prompted ominously, "Go on."
After some feeble attempts at distraction, Pettigrew sighed and hauled forth a clot of candywrappers, a faded newspaper clipping showing Stevie Nicks dancing in a headwind, a shoebutton, a pair of engraved silver garlic cloves and a rowanwood slingshot.
Hagrid raised his eyebrows. "Expectin' trouble, Pete?"
Pettigrew hiccoughed and shrugged uncomfortably, mumbling, "You never know when Dark Magic might be sniffing around, looking to start some mischief." He cast a dubious glare at Snape and Malfoy, who was still giggling in Lupin's four-armed grip.
Snape laughed, and opined frostily, "You won't stop Dark Magic with a handful of trinkets and a slingshot."
"Oh yes?" blustered Pettigrew. "Fine, let's see what you've got!" He stepped aside, belched forth another slug, and waved Snape towards the haybale.
The lanky muckmeddler strode forward, fished through his pockets and offered up three candystriped phials. "Prior to their transformation into mint tea," he grumbled, "these were, respectively, willowbark powder, for headaches... laudanum, for tranquility... and coca powder, for lucidity. All perfectly ordinary study aids. Also, here are three Galleons and two Knuts... and a bit of ribbon." He rolled his peppermint eyes in exasperation, and spreadwinged his pockets to show them empty.
Crabbe had a collection of small coins and smoothed pebbles, and one platinum cufflink. Goyle had a map showing how to get to his classes, and a bitten Galleon.
Hagrid pried Malfoy loose turned out Lupin's pockets himself. He came up with a wilted handkerchief, a worn permission slip granting access to the library's Restricted Section, and a much-thumbed pocket version of the Wise Witches' Almanack Chronicling The Events Of The Lunar Year.
Lucius, still chuckling tediously and Much Interested in Obtaining that Useful Permission Slip, stepped forward to produce "Six galleons and four sickles. Just pocket change." He shrugged, and pulled out his pockets, and tried not to chortle.
Sirius Black all but slunk to the haybale and blushing began producing handfuls of parchment scraps, all of which seemed to be covered in flowery script detailing Abiding Affection and every free moment in their authors' schedules.
"That' s Narcissa's handwriting !" Lucius was appalled. He'd been sure she'd stopped speaking to her Goody-Two-Shoes cousin when she'd stopped answering to her surname outside of classes.
No doubt the All But Disowned cur had purloined her letter. "I'll take that to its proper owner!" Lucius snapped, and gallantly snatched up the perfumed note, expertly palming the Advantageous Permission Slip as well. An outburst of gleeful laughter doubled him over and provided opportunity to hide both away inside his shirt.
When he came up he met Snape's avaricious gaze and knew he had Bargaining Leverage for the Rest of the School Year. Lucius was pleased that at least some good had come of this Detention.
Potter, unable to delay any longer, produced some kite string leashed to a bent-winged Snitch, a few coins embedded in lint, a handkerchief embroidered with fleurs-de-lis and the letter "L," a speckled red feather, and a TO DO TODAY note reminding himself to POUR SOMETHING NASTY ALL OVER SNAPE AT LEAST ONCE, with a scrawled addendum in Black's hand: SOMETHING NASTIER THAN HIM? (IS THIS POSSIBLE!)
Snape glared at the pair of them.
Potter only grinned and told him, "It's important to set goals in life."
Hagrid said over Snape's answering snarl, "Quiet, now. I'm thinkin'."
Lucius sniggered (Helplessly) and waited for the barn to ignite.
"All righ' now," the Groundskeeper declared gruffly. "Yeah... that'll work." He glared sternly down at his captives and announced, "We're gonna change things 'round a bit. Potter an' Snape an' Lupin an' Goyle, you four are gonna work together t' clean THAT half of all this mess!" He warned the remaining appalled quartet, "An' you four are gonna clean THAT half! An' right quick!"
There was a frozen silence.
"That's not fair!" Goyle protested. "I keep getting put on the team with the useless lump! Lupin's no more help now than Snape's been all morning!"
Potter, perhaps realizing that he was thus outnumbered two to one, chimed in, "He's absolutely right!"
"Then someone'll have t' work twice as hard t' make up fer that," Hagrid decreed, tapping significantly at the pocket containing the confiscated wand and fixing Potter with a stem gaze.
Potter wilted.
"Dear, dear," murmured Snape. "Lost your every ally, have you? How unfortunate."
Malfoy tittered.
Hagrid barked, "Go on!"
Something in the barnyard shrieked horribly.
Given the choice between banshees and buckets, the prisoners hastily chose the latter.
All except for Goyle, who apparently felt the urgent need to explain, "Potter had that wand hidden up his sleeve!"
"Stop helping, Gav," Snape recommended, and cuffed him.
"FINE," Hagrid growled, "I'll just frisk yeh all, then. Potter, c'mere. The rest o'yeh, line up."
There was a general scrambling for last place.
Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle formed their customary screen to hide their ever-resourceful swot as he ditched whatever Ministry-Controlled Substances he had brought along today. Lucius averted his gaze and enjoined his minions to affect Keen Interest in the objects produced by Hagrid's shakedown of the Marauders, while Sev had a brief intimate encounter with a haybale.
Unfortunately, the Groundskeeper's collection was Nothing Much to Write Home About. The most interesting item so far was a Tarot deck with rather exciting illustrations of the Empress and other Ladies, which had been extracted from Potter. Regrettably, fuschia fur had obscured the artwork's finer points.
Pettigrew's deck was nevertheless lacking by comparison, and much smudged. He looked very relieved as Hagrid set him back onto his feet, exclaiming, "I say, that was " Posterity would never know what; slugs erupted from his open mouth and splattered all over his roommates.
Malfoy collapsed in a burbling heap of hapless merriment.
"Eeeuuuuggghhhh!" Potter swatted at the slugs for several moments, then grimaced and resorted to using his fingertips to pry them loose from his sweater. "Oh, really, that's enough!" he decided almost immediately, and upturned a pleading gaze to Hagrid, exclaiming, "Look, I've learned my lesson! I shouldn't have brought the wand! It's only made things worse say!" He brightened.
Those Slytherins able to do so braced.
Potter offered generously, "Let me make amends by undoing all the havoc that wand's caused!"
"Yes, let him!" Black agreed quickly. "So we can all get back to normal and get the barn clean! C'mon, Hagrid!" he exhorted, trying to shake slugs off his cloak.
Snape said flatly, "You're not giving Potter back that wand." The haystrewn and rumpled swot was breathing hard and flushed as he staggered into line beside Goyle; his tie was wrongside-out and his cloak hanging askew, lending emphasis to his assertion, "We've suffered enough "
"Making my argument for me," Potter continued glibly, "that really we'd all be better off unhexed and free of all this muck and mess!" He glanced dubiously at Snape and added, "Unless you're happy being covered in horse shit "
"SHUT UP." Snape glared at him, and then turned to Hagrid and said silkily in his New and Improved and Well-nigh Calligraphic voice, "Naturally I am not pleased with the current state of things... nor would be the Headmaster, should he to drop by to judge our progress... "
Hagrid said nervously, "Er."
Snape went on smoothly as ice cream melting in July, "Of course it is well-documented that I have more experience than any other Hogwarts student in countering hexes."
"True," chipped in Goyle loyally. "School record, he's got!"
The Gryffindors sniggered in self-congratulation; their tireless efforts had largely contributed to Snape's spending the majority of his scholastic career ridding himself and his belongings of hexual residues.
Snape added practically, "And I am all over horse shit, and the sanitary facilities in this barn might, charitably, be deemed 'lacking.' Unfortunately, we're not allowed to leave until our Detention is over, so that leaves us trapped in here with that wand as our only recourse to restore equilibrium, so that we might proceed properly with our punishment, as intended by the Headmaster."
Black stared at him, and found his own broken tenor long enough to scoff, "Top marks in crawling, Snape."
"Slithering," Potter opined, curling his lip.
"Expediting matters," clipped Snape, "so that I needn't linger here in Purgatory one minute more than necessary. I have studying to do, and something on the back burner." Snape looked expectantly up at the Groundskeeper, exhorting, "Come on, Hagrid, we've had enough of all this folderol." He held out his hand expectantly.
Hagrid looked deeply uncertain, and seemed to be talking to himself rapidly. His gaze kept darting from his captives to the barn doors, and once or twice he cast an apprehensive gaze in the direction of the distant castle.
In the barnyard something shrieked like a glacier calving.
"Right, that's torn it," growled the Groundskeeper, tugging the wand from his pocket. With a forbidding scowl, he Loomed over Snape and crammed the wand into the Slytherin's grip with the curt direction, "JUST undo the mess to where it was before lunch."
Snape beamed up at him, as if the great oaf were Father Christmas.
Potter protested, "Hagrid, that's a Gryffindor's wand " He seemed to strangle some revelation and went on hastily, "The owner doesn't know I have it! But it's, uhm, quite Fiery in nature we don't want Snape igniting the barn !"
"No problem," Crabbe said placidly. "Sev's got an unmistakably dampening influence on any situation."
There was general agreement with this.
Snape was staring at the wand, eyes wide, looking as if he'd swallowed too large a frog. He ran a finger gently over the delicate leaves carved into the witchwood, then grinned wickedly at Potter, purring, "Oh, you are going to catch Hell for this when she finds out you nicked her wand." His smile grew even more crooked as he mused, "Wonder who she's wandering Hogsmeade with, that she hasn't noticed yet it's gone?"
Next instant he shook his head, looking cross with himself, and flourished the wand experimentally. "Good job it's willow," he muttered, and aimed at Pettigrew.
Who shrilled, "Why me first?
"Because I'm fresh out of white mice," Snape snapped, and hit him with a Stomach Soothing Spell. It was one of his best and most often practiced, and with a final salvo of slugs the pudgy Gryffindor slumped gasping with relief to the ground.
Snape nodded approval, and briskly tended to Goyle, and Crabbe, and Malfoy. When he turned to Lupin, he had some difficulty, "as if the spell thinks there's still more to him," he growled through clenched teeth, hanging whiteknuckled onto the wand. "And it would help if I could just see him through all that hay…." He brightened and cast a Scourgifying spell which instantly left Lupin standing in the middle of a sparkling rectangle of cleanliness. "Better," Snape purred, and used a Disarming Charm. Lupin blinked benignly and waved a bewildered thanks with one of his remaining hands.
"Where's my cookie?" he asked.
No one answered, as the other Gryffindors were busy assuring Hagrid that at least that much of the barn had been clean before the fight, and the Slytherins were busy bemoaning the fact that Snape had apparently only mastered the spell enough to clean a space the size of the Students' Potions lab.
Snape, momentarily neglected, turned on Black and Potter, and took rather a long time choosing a target; at last deciding on the lesser of two evils, he hit Black with a sizzling spell that knocked the Gryffindor right out of his boots but did restore his normal coloring.
"Oh, really " Potter's protest died as the next spell caused all of his fuchsia fur to fall out and raised a sweetish stench of burnt hair.
When he found his glasses and got to his feet again, everyone stared at him. Potter was entirely bald.
"Whoops," said Snape evenly, with a satisfied little smirk. "Gryffindor's wand, you know. Very Fiery. Accidents will happen."
When Potter was apprised of his plight he charged at Snape, fists swinging, but checked himself roughly as he realized the swot was still covered in disgusting muck.
And of course Hagrid was still present and very large indeed.
With a self-laudatory grin, Snape casually charmed himself back to his usual appearance. He shivered, and sighed rather dreamily, despite the blue-green flames which briefly haloed his hair.
"All right now," growled Hagrid, once the flames had faded away, "I'll take that!" He plucked the wand from Snape's grasp. Sev scarcely seemed to notice this, or the ensuing thorough frisking to which the Groundskeeper brusquely subjected him.
The other Slytherins should have liked to have been so lucky. Lucius delayed The Inevitable as long as he could but ultimately had to endure the same inspection, which he bore by distracting himself with the composition of Part the Second of his letter to Father, In Which Our Situation Actually Worsened Despite All Reasonable Protests and Common Sense
At last Hagrid plunked Malfoy down and clapped his huge hands with the authority of a judge's gavel. All of the wakeful boys jumped. "Now! No more shenanigans!" decreed the Groundskeeper. "Back ter work wi' yeh Potter, Snape, Lupin, Goyle, you take the near wall, Malfoy, Black, Crabbe, an' Pettigrew take the farther! GO ON!"
They had so hoped he'd forgotten that divisive scheme.
"An' anyone who's got any more protests, or bright ideas, or trouble he jus' CAN'T HELP causin'," invited Hagrid, "c'n join me fer detention again t'morrow, when you can help me with a vexatious and awfully bloody task o' bonin' and jointin' a chimera fer use in Professer Stirwell's Advanced classes – "
"Really!" Snape yipped hopefully
Hagrid looked into his shining eyes, and stammered, "Er… Course not! Yer ONLY fourth years! I'll have yeh muckin' the barnyard!"
"It can't get any muckier," muttered Goyle.
"GET BACK T' WORK!" Hagrid roared. "NOW!" He folded his treetrunk arms and glowered at his charges as they scattered to comply. When everyone lucid had recommenced scrubbing vigorously, the Groundskeeper warned, "I'll be RIGHT back." He spun on his heel, and marched out to the barnyard, where the Hideous Thing was ululating like a Lovecraftian afterthought.
Lucius tried not to be discouraged at being considered The Lesser of Two Evils, consoling himself that this was Only to Be Expected at the Tender Age of Fourteen.
"Oh, come on," Black was dogging Snape's heels, insisting, "You're always cleaning up your little accidents, and all those grease stains… You must have something hidden up your sleeve!"
Snape whirled like a Hammerthrow finalist and clobbered Black with his sloshing bucket. The Gryffindor went down with a yelp and the bucket leapt up with a reverberant CLANG! which left Sev neatly bottled in a halfsize version of Houdini's Milk Can with just a droop of greasy hair sticking out from beneath its lid.
Crabbe paused in his scrubbing and asked Malfoy exasperatedly, "Should we help him now?"