*Yawn* Finally finished this chapter at 11:00 tonight. Loads of fun. So please pardon any mistakes if you come across them, I'm not really awake at the moment.
Second, I'm considering doing a rewrite of the first few chapters, since the plot has changed slightly since I began, and I'm not sure if they're entirely up to date. Let me know what you think about that.
Third, Thank you, thank you, thank you for all the reviews! You guys are the ones who keep me writing!
And finally, this chapter has been inspired by my mother, who keeps telling me that I'll probably end up dating a professor here at college. Hmmm . . . my boyfriend tells me the same thing . . . Is it something I said? (Mmmmm...Snape! *cackle*)
Halloween morning dawned clear and windy. Fallen leaves swirled across Hogwarts grounds in small packs, waylaying the unwary traveler with whirlwinds of dust. But it was the rare witch or wizard who set foot outside the school that day. Everyone; teachers, students, house-elves, ghosts, and even the paintings were preparing themselves for the Masquerade Ball that night. Dumbledore's idea had been received with great enthusiasm by all, and they had thrown themselves into the preparations with great gusto. Professor Flitwick had been busy all day, teaching student disguising charms and their many variations. The library was swamped by students looking for costume ideas, while Professor McGonagall held an impromptu wizardly sewing class for the more creative students.
The Gryffindor common room had transformed into a small disaster area, with disguise charms, fabric, and pins flying every which way. Students spent on average only half the time looking like themselves, not always under their own power. Fred and George Weasley had been labeled disturbers of the peace after passing out approximately five pounds of candy that made the eater sprout fur. They were summarily banished to their room, from which loud crashing noises emanated about five minutes later. No one really wanted to find out what they were doing.
Even Hermione abandoned her books in favor for costuming. Mischievously, she had decided that she would go for shock factor and chose a costume that was completely out of character for her. She had just begun to put the finishing touches on it when Crookshanks ran off with her thread.
"Drat it, you great orange lump! Get back here!" She lunged for the cat who dodged her and streaked out the door. She scooped her costume up into her bag, so that no one would find it while she was gone and ruin her surprise, and chased him through the common room. Unfortunately for her, a giggling group of first years came through the portrait hole just at that moment, and Crookshanks took the opportunity to escape.
Muttering unmentionable threats under her breath, Hermione climbed out just in time to see an orange tail disappear around the corner. She took off after the cat, hoping that she wouldn't have to chase him all over the school.
As it turned out, she didn't have to chase him all around the entire school, but it was close. She finally caught up with her cat just outside the dungeons. Picking him up she scolded, "There you are, you naughty boy. Give back the thread. I need it to finish my costume." Crookshanks grumbled at her and wriggled out of her arms. Hermione frowned at him. "What's gotten into you, Crookshanks?"
The huge cat trotted down the hallway for a few yards before lazily reaching up and sharpening his claws on a door. Seconds later, the door slowly opened. Hermione winced, hoping that it wasn't one of Snape's storerooms. However, the face that showed itself at the door definitely did not belong to Snape.
"Kerri?"
The girl in question peeked out around the door. Kerri had spent the week after her trip to Diagon Alley drifting around school like a ghost. She answered most questions with monosyllabic replies, if she did answer. Any efforts to cheer her up failed miserably, and eventually people began to simply avoid her rather than be in her depressing presence. She spent more time hidden away in her room than ever, appearing for meals only rarely. Even Hermione, Harry and Ron were at a loss. Hagrid was just as confused when they asked him if he knew anything.
"I dunno. She was doin' jes' fine until she went out wi' Professor Snape. Mebbe he got mad at 'er, mebbe th' new cat she got is sick or sumthin. I jes' dunno." He had shrugged and gone back to poking at something unidentifiable that was boiling over the fire.
Now, as she emerged from her room, Kerri looked almost as bad as she had after the Death Eater attacked her. Her skin had lost any color it had in it before, and she sported dark circles under her eyes. But despite her appearance, she greeted the big orange cat with a smile. At Hermione's exclamation, though, she nearly leapt out of her skin.
Clutching her laboring heart, Kerri leant against the doorframe. "I-I-I'm sorry. I didn't see you there, Hermione."
"Are you all right?" Hermione stared at the pale girl. "You look awful."
"I -er- haven't been sleeping well, I guess."
"Or eating, or feeling, I see."
A bitter smile. "Apparently."
Hermione shook her head. "'Apparently?' Is that all you can say?" She tsked in motherly concern. "No wonder Crookshanks brought me here! You look like Professor Quirrell!"
"I thought Quirrell was dead."
"My point exactly."
"Oh." Kerri looked embarrassed. "Er . . Would you like to come in? Crookshanks already has."
Hermione glanced down to see her cat run past Kerri. A split second later, the air erupted with yowls and hisses. The two girls looked at each other and, as one, dove into the room.
Fortunately, the scene inside was nowhere near as bad as they had imagined. Willow had apparently tried to give Crookshanks the same treatment he had given to Fang. However, the cat wasn't as easily cowed as the dog. He had grabbed Willow by the scruff of the neck and was presently shaking him like a toy. The other cats, save the newest, were looking on complacently. Kerri's newest cat was the source of most of the hissing as she clawed her way to the top of the wardrobe, and let Crookshanks know what she thought of him.
Kerri knelt and carefully extracted Willow from the larger cat, who grumbled at the interruption of his new game. After both cats were examined for any permanent injury, and the new cat settled down somewhat, Kerri pointed to the bag Hermione was carrying.
"Not to change the subject or anything, but what's that?"
"Oh, this?" Hermione started to open the bag, but paused. "I'll only show you if you promise not to tell anyone else what it is."
The older girl raised her eyebrows thoughtfully, but nodded just the same.
Hermione pulled out her costume and watched, gratified, as Kerri's eyebrows almost shot off her forehead.
"Isn't that a little . . er . . out of character for you, Hermione?"
"I know! Imagine the looks on Ron and Harry's faces when they see me in it!"
"They won't recognize you at the ball, remember?"
"The five minutes of watching them swallow their tongues in the Common Room will be more than enough."
Kerri tried to hide a smile at the thought, but failed miserably. "I think I'd pay money to see that."
"Guys are so cute when they're traumatized, aren't they?"
"I really don't want to know how you know that."
"Not too many guys at the Aurors, huh?"
"No." Kerri made a face. "And please don't suggest any here. I'm not into younger men."
"There's always professors." Hermione had a mischievous gleam in her eye.
"Well, I agree, most of them are. . ." The mischievous gleam became downright wicked. "Snape's not that much older, though . . ."
Kerri gave Hermione a suspicious look, trying to figure out if she was joking. At the moment, the thought didn't sicken her as much as it would have a week ago. But still . . . She never knew what possessed her to say what she said next. "And how would I attract him, hmm? Read a potions manual in a slow, breathy voice?"
That comment was a little too much for the two girls, who collapsed into piles of hysterical giggles. The cats, who by then had reached a truce, looked at them in momentary confusion, but decided that it wasn't worth it to go over to them for attention and fell back asleep. Hermione was the first to recover, she wiped tears of laughter from her eyes as she waited for Kerri to catch her breath. "So what are you going as to the Masquerade?"
"I'm not-oh, OW . . my side-telling you until you reassure me that you were joking."
"And I won't tell you if I was joking or not until you tell me why you've been hiding in your room this past week, and why Snape has been looking like a thundercloud lately." While Kerri had turned into a ghost, Snape had become impossible, well, more impossible, to deal with. But as the week progressed, he became distracted and almost jumpy. Harry had caught him pacing about his office, talking to himself. Gryffindor had lost a lot of points that afternoon. "He's been an absolute git these last few days."
The older girl's face immediately closed like a door. "Do I look like I know what's going through Professor Snape's mind?"
"Well, that answers one question . . ."Hermione stared at her expectantly, refusing to be put off.
"And for the other one, it's none of your business beyond the fact that we ran into Malfoy Sr. and had a bit of a falling out." She saw the slightly hurt expression on Hermione's face and sighed. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean it like that. I just don't really want to go over it again."
"Hmph. Fair enough, I guess. But, due to the lack of information, I must insist that you make it up to me somehow." She brightened up again as she thought. "Here's an idea . ."
"Uh oh."
"No, no! Nothing like that! I just want to be introduced to your cats."
"Never mind. How many do you have anyway?"
"Eight." At that point, Kerri gave up trying to follow Hermione's train of thought. She knew it made sense to the girl, but the rest of the world would just end up with a massive collective headache for their pains. She called the cats, who answered, more or less. Knowing she had no food, most of them made it barely out of their hiding spots before forming one giant furry mass in the warm spot by the window.
"Let's see here . . . You already know Willow." Hermione nodded, still staring at the blob o' cats in the sunbeam. "The big gray one is Winston and the little gray one is Dolly. The little tortoiseshell, my newest cat, is Fizz. The white one washing Fizz's ear is Blanche, the little white one is Cirrus, the marmalade cat over there lying on her back is Honey, and the black one is Raven." She took a deep breath. "That's all of them."
"Wow."
"That's what most people say."
"How do you take care of them?"
"Dumbledore's given them free range in Hogwarts. I think they usually go down to harass the House-Elves because they're rarely hungry when I come home." She grinned. "At least I hope so. I'd hate to think they've been eating peoples' familiars."
Another snort of laughter. "That would go over poorly with Hogwarts' powers-that-be wouldn't it? Oh by the way, I was joking."
"Huh?"
"About Snape, remember?"
"Oh. Sorry, I'm a little slow on the uptake sometimes." Kerri made a face. "You could have reassured me earlier. By now the shock may have damaged me permanently."
"Bah, you're tougher than that. You've put up with Snape for two months haven't you?" She pulled her costume out of her bag once more. "Now that we've covered all bases, how about you show me your costume so we can finish them up before the ball tonight?"
"Only if I'm allowed to be there when the boys see you in that."
"Are you kidding? The bigger the audience, the better!"
Snape was seriously considering throwing himself from the top of the Astronomy tower. Or feeding himself to the giant spiders in the Forbidden Forest. Or maybe he would just find Black and ask him to kill him. No, on second thought he didn't want to give him the satisfaction.
He was not looking forward to the ball.
But faculty were required to attend. At least Dumbledore will alter the charm for the teachers so we have a vague idea of who's who. At least, he says he's going to. He turned his mask over in his hands and glared at it. He didn't know what possessed him to actually pull out that old costume of his. It might have been stupidity, it may have been because Dumbledore asked him to. Or it might have had something to do with Minerva suggesting that he could dress up as Longbottom's grandmother.
They never had let him live that down.
Well, it won't be for too long. He sighed and put the mask on. Straightening his cape, he swept out of his office.
If he had been thinking about something other than ways to kill himself and/or Dumbledore, he would have realized that he hadn't worried about the Death Eater meeting for at least several hours now. He would also have reflected on how strange it was that it worked out that way. And then he would have made several rather colorful comments on exactly what a manipulative old codger the Headmaster was. But, since he was too busy complaining about the ball, he didn't.
Perhaps that was Dumbledore's intention from the beginning.
Back in the Gryffindor Common Room, it was a scene of utter chaos. Between last minute adjustments and cries of - "Fr-Geor-Oh whoever you are! Bug off!" - it was a wonder that no one had been hustled off to Madame Pomfrey yet.
The small group of girls standing in the corner had plans to change that.
Prodded by the others, Hermione walked over to Harry (who was dressed as a Golden Snitch) and tapped him on the shoulder. When he turned around, she grinned and asked, "Like my costume, Harry?"
"Umbahba . . ." he said eloquently.
She stuck her tongue out at him. "Surely I don't look that bad?" By then a crowd had gathered, made up of giggling girls and gawking boys.
"Actually," said Harry, who had finally managed not to choke, "I think you've missed your calling, becoming a witch. You would have made a great Goth."
"So that's what she is. . . " said Ron, as he adjusted his owl costume. "Scary . . ."
The gaping paused for a moment as a loud bell tone rang out, summoning them all to the Masquerade.
"Ah, the hour is struck!" Ron cried dramatically. He and Harry bowed to Hermione. "My lady, if you would allow us the honor of escorting you to the ball?"
Hermione tossed her hair, dyed black from a potion Kerri gave her, and accepted the proffered arms before they all piled out the portrait hole.
"Dare I ask what you transfigured to get that?" Harry asked as they walked down to the Great Hall.
"Well you see, Ginny lent me her Weasley sweater . . ."