"You idiot girl! I said three drops of essence of hemlock! That was clearly three and a quarter!"
"You know something, sir?" Hermione spit the word out as though it left a bad taste in her mouth, "Perhaps I would be able to concentrate better if you were not standing beside me and bellowing 'idiot girl!' every forty five seconds!"
"I can hardly help it that you're acting like an over-excitable first-year who doesn't know her arse from her elbow!"
"ACK!" Hermione screeched, chucking the wooden spoon she had been using to stir the glutinous potion across the room. "I HAVE HAD IT WITH YOU!"
"You've what?" he asked, astounded.
"Why don't you just stop being a lazy git and come back to work yourself! Clearly, I am not worthy to even lick the spilt potion from off your floor, so stop trying to teach me! Just come back and I'll be on my merry way back to the Hospital Wing where I can get some bloody peace and quiet for a change!"
Snape neither moved nor blinked for several moments. Hermione stood glowering at him, feeling somewhat shocked at the tyraid that had just come out of her mouth.
"I have my reasons for not returning," he said, so softly she wasn't sure she'd hear him. "But, perhaps, that vague explanation is not good enough for the know-it-all Miss Granger. Perhaps you'd like to see with your own eyes the reason for my…hesitation."
The room seemed to be closing in around her slightly. She suddenly became very aware of how much she didn't like the look in his narrowed eyes. Her breath was coming in sharp, muted gasps.
He surveyed her coolly for a moment. A faint pink tinge had appeared in her cheeks. Her normally bushy hair was now looked entirely untamed, scattering her head in a halo of frizz, a few stray curls clinging darkly to the moisture on her forehead.
"So show me then." She was sure the words had left her mouth before clearing the matter with her brain. She trembled slightly in spite of herself, but knowing she could not back down now, she squared her shoulders and forced herself to stare into his cold, black eyes.
Snape's face hardened slightly. His right hand began lifting towards his face. He paused with his fingers a millimeter from the edge of the mask he still wore, his eyes dull and penetrating.
Then, as suddenly as if someone had thrown a switch, he threw his hand back to his side, spun on his heel, and stalked so quickly out of the room that it took her a moment to realize what had happened. The wooden door to the chamber clanged to with a heavy thud, leaving Hermione alone in the weak candlelight, beside a softly gurgling cauldron.
Shaking slightly, she wrapped her arms around her torso and sank to the floor, weak with some emotion. Whether it was relief, horror, or pity, she could never be sure.
------- ------------ ---------------
"Don't forget your socks!"
"I've got them, Mum."
"And your new quills!"
"Those too."
"I don't believe you for one second. Open your trunk this instant, and woe betide you if you're lying to your mother."
Heaving an injured sigh, the ginger haired men stooped and released the rusty clasps of his old school trunk. His mother, a stout woman with equally red hair, thought it was now tinted with traces of gray, bustled over and immediately began rooting around within it.
"Mum, it took me forever to fold all of those clothes!"
"Oh, nonsense. I'll fix them up with a single spell."
"Mum, look, we're really going to be late…"
There was a loud bang from somewhere downstairs, and both mother and son looked up for a moment.
A sharp squeal followed by a strangled groan echoed up the stairs.
Raising an eyebrow, the young man crossed his arms in front of his chest as the door to the room was thrown open and in staggered a man with horribly messy black hair, followed by a young woman who was currently massaging the back of her head.
"Welcome back to the Burrow, Harry," the ginger haired man said, smirking as Harry fixed his askew glasses. "Did I forget to mention that Fred and George have been busily testing their new slip-sliding potions all over the house at the most inconvenient times?"
"Yeah, I think you might have left that out of your letter, Ron," Harry grumbled, now lightly touching the blossoming bruise on his forehead.
"Atleast you weren't thrown backwards down the stairs and landed on by someone twice your size," Ginny grumbled from where she had taken a seat on the bed. "Why were you running anyway?"
"Was I running?" Harry replied vaguely.
Ginny scowled at him and didn't bother to reply.
"Well then, I suppose everything's in order here," the older woman said, straightening up.
"Thanks, Mum," Ron replied.
"How've you been, Mrs. Weasley?" Harry asked, smiling at her.
"Oh just wonderful, dear," she replied in a distracted sort of way. "Busy as always, you know. What with George's wedding coming up and all…"
"Oh, yeah. How are the love birds these days?" Harry asked, smirking.
"Well, I'll be blest if I've ever seen a worse pair of trouble makers. I thought Fred and Angelina were a frightening duo," she murmured, half to herself, as she continued to sweep around the room, tidying various things and using her wand to send random objects flying into the still open trunk. "But now that George and Katie are getting married, I've begun to wonder if my house will stay in one piece." She ended this statement by shutting the lid of the trunk with a snap.
"Imagine what their children will be like," Harry muttered aside to Ginny, afraid that the subject would be too much for Molly to handle at the moment. Ginny grinned.
Mrs. Weasley sighed. "And now with Charlie coming back from that long business trip to America, and Bill coming home from Egypt for the summer, my house is going to be full once more." Her voice sounded pained, but Harry knew that she was secretly very pleased. Nothing made Mrs. Weasley happier than having her house full with her family and friends.
"'Ello, 'ello, 'ello! What 'ave we 'ere!"
"Speak of the devil…" said Ron.
George had stopped in the doorframe, a wide grin plastered on his face.
"All right, Harry? See you stumbled upon our latest invention."
"Haha," Harry said, rolling his eyes at George's terrible pun. "Yeah, and what a pleasure it was to be thrown down the stairs and land on top of your baby sister."
The grin slid off of George's face, and Harry smirked in satisfaction.
"He's kidding," Ginny said, standing up. "Well, not really. But you know what I mean."
"You lot had better hurry up or you're going to be late," Mrs. Weasley said suddenly, ushering them all towards the door. "Give everyone my love. Tell them your father and I will be there just as soon as he gets home from Australia."
They exchanged quick goodbyes, George shooting Harry and few choice venomous looks, and were soon standing outside Number 12 Grimmauld Place, having Flooed their luggage before them.
"So," Ron said, as they started up the path, "who shall we give her love to first? Mundungus or Snape?"
A/N LOOK! IT'S AN UPDATE! W0OT!
I need to do a bit of explaining. Okay, I know the second part of this chapter was really not mirrored with anything in the Phantom, but I promise that it's important. Just learn to trust me. I'm like Charles Dickens. I'll give you the most seemingly useless detail in the world, and then at the end of the piece, you find out, BOOM! IT'S THE KEY TO EVERYTHING! IT'S THE MYSTICAL KETTLE OF NACKLEDIRK AND HARRY'S AUNTIE!
Sorry, channeling the beloved Jo for a moment. Anyway, I KNOW I haven't clarified who Hermione's Raoul is yet, but trust me. Next chapter. Promise.
Is it me, or did there seem to be a lot of smirking going on in this chapter? Hmmm…perhaps I was just in a a smirk-y mood when I wrote it.
Please encourage people to read/review this story if you really like it!
More coming soon!
Big smoochy kisses
Little Lotte