1. Friday, the 13th
Subtitles: "Thursday, the 12th"
The same living-room, Potter is home alone. He is lying on the floor with a TV-Guide, occasionally looking around in search of a TV, each time sighing and reprovingly shaking his head. The phone is ringing; the tune is Light My Fire. Potter likes the song, and even starts to hum along as he jumps up to get the phone. For a split second, he is unsure whether to pick it up at all, but then takes the receiver and mutters something like "Ehm?".
The screen splits. Lucius, drawling his vowels:
"So, Puss, what about Friday?" Potter is so taken aback by "Puss" that he only manages to repeat his previous sound.
"No, no, and I will not accept any excuses, nonsense about getting your feet wet and such, I've already booked us a table, in the Runes at 7:30 p.m., and all right, I will be waiting at the entrance, just as you like it... What in Merlin's name are you doing there, you bloody oaf of an elf, you! (We see a miserable-looking house-elf on the background, trying to clean a portrait with "Fairy" spray.) ... Sorry, Puss, these constant problems with the domestics, I must hang up... Don't be late, love!" the screen returns to normal.
Potter stands stock-still. Then he starts grinning rather stupidly.
CUT
The door opens, enter Snape and Draco deep in conversation. Draco:
"But Prof, you know they're all idiots there, and besides, it's easy to get around any law-codex, you just have to grease the palm of the right person, and it so happens that I've already found out who that person is."
"First of all, spare me your professional slang. Secondly, in order to get around any law-codex, you must know not only whose palm to grease, but this law-codex in the first place, that is why you will immediately go to your room and study."
(whinging) "But the lights are bad there... and one of the portraits won't shut up..."
"No "buts" please. Take up the whole living-room if you like, that's even better: we can see if you're working or slacking off... Any calls?" (to Harry)
"N-no... only for Hermie..." Snape turns away.
CUT
Later. Draco under a pile of books, Ron and Harry chat quietly in the other corner.
"Imagine, some loser, and with house-elves too! Wants Hermie, unbelievable."
"Hey, and she told me that she'll be home late tonight, because she has, like, sort of a "date", what the hell is she up to? Well, it's not our business, but the girl's love-life has definitely got tangled... Well, let's tell her about that call and then look into her honest eyes..."
"Right you are."
The door opens, in flies Hermione with another huge bunch of flowers. Harry starts in a mysterious whisper: "Hermie, you know, you've got a call here..."
Suddenly the phone rings – this time it's Material Girl. Hermione rushes to the receiver.
"Yes, Granger. Ah, it's you... missing me already? (cooing) Tomorrow? No, you're crazy, tomorrow I've got a colloquium... Well, if I were a student, that wouldn't be a problem, but unfortunately I happen to be a teacher... Right, listen, I'll check my schedule and call you back, OK? Mmmchuawww!" (this is supposed to be a kiss – which makes Draco shudder)
(hanging up) "By the way, boys, this concerns everyone, so listen: When it rings "Some boys kiss me, some boys hug me..." (she does a perfect imitation of Madonna's nasal tone), - that's for me; and when "You know that it would be untrue, you know that I would be a liar" – that's for doc... Snape. If you behave yourselves, I'll make separate ringtones for you, too," she winks and goes to arrange the flowers.
Harry punches Ron in the side. Ron, in a whisper: "What?" "Ron, it was Light My Fire, I know for sure!" Ron's eyes widen: " Whoa, Snape! What do we do now?" Harry points with his eyes at still-purring Hermione and Draco who is immersed in his writing, and nods towards their room.
CUT
Subtitles: "Friday, the 13th; 7:15 p.m."
The scene is almost the same: Hermione is absent, but Draco is still as deep in his textbooks as before, although now he's also got a laptop and a pocket scanner. Harry is ready to leave, he and Ron are whispering at the door.
"I still don't like it somehow... It's not nice."
"Yeah, I know it's mean, but I just can't stop, Ron, and you know me..."
"Your brakes fail, I know," Ron gently pats his hair. "It's just, as Hermie would put it, 'unethical'".
"I just didn't get a chance to tell him, you know that! He was already gone at breakfast..."
"How about an owl?"
"And what about an owl, Ron? What on earth could I have written to him? (his temper raises with his voice; Draco frowns and puts on his headphones, very displeased) "Dear Professor Snape, there is a guy there, he invites you to... blah-blah, don't be late, luv"!" Ron chuckles. "Oh well, he'll miss his date once, so what? I'll just go look who he is and be right back. All right, it may be improper, but my inner voice has never let me down yet..."
"Would that be a former auror's seventh sense? Or is it a pain in your scar?" Ron openly teases him.
"Call it what you like, I'm out of here."
"Wait, let's go out together. I'll just go chase the Quaffle for a bit, anything is better than staying here with that ..." with a sidelong glance at Draco, he puts on his scarf. They go out.
"With that," Draco mocks him without taking off his headphones. Then he takes a piece of parchment and a quill, and starts to scribble thoughtfully...
CUT
Subtitles: «7:20 - :25 - :30 - :35 - :40 - :45 - :50 - :55...»
An intersection near the Runes. Black ice, wind, absolutely disgusting weather. A half-frozen Harry is waiting on the other side of the intersection and, for want of something else to look at, is staring at a porter by the entrance, obviously unsure whether to risk going inside or not. Finally, he decides at least to cross the street, obediently waits for the green light, gets hold of the handrail – the steps down to the road are slippery – steps out onto the road, and naturally slips anyway,... right under the wheels of some crazy driver running a red light. Everything swirls, high-pitched music, brakes, but before Harry manages to disapparate or even fly back a bit, he's being caught and jerked backwards by the scruff of his coat.
"Tired of life?" a rather disdainful voice.
"Phew, thanks... thanks a lot. I think you sort of... saved my life there..."
"Indeed. Oh nooo..." His saviour looks utterly disappointed: as if fate had given him one perfect chance, and he destroyed everything with his own hands. Which does not surprise Harry one bit, because the person in front of him is none other than his long-time foe L. Malfoy.
Harry jumps back and nearly slips again.
"Oh no, Potter, there will be no second time, and were I more attentive, there wouldn't have been a first. Incidentally, you're now in my debt."
"I'll pay you back, never fear," replies Harry coldly, but suddenly is nudged by his conscience. He nods at the Runes. "For now, how about dinner?" even Potter can be magnanimous after nearly having met his death.
Malfoy is surprised. First, he wants to say something contemptuous, but then looks at his watch, gives a sort of disappointed snort and murmurs "Why not, actually". At this moment Harry finally grasps the truth, but it's too late to retreat, and so they go to the Runes.
CUT
Snape comes out of a muggle-looking edifice, waves his hand at someone, lights a cigarette… (tsk tsk, this is definitely not a US sitcom). All of a sudden, a tiny owl lands on his shoulder; he raises his brow, and takes the tiny roll of parchment. The owl flies away. Snape deciphers the scrawl, muttering through his teeth in the light of his cigarette: "Dad wanted to meet you, I reckon... (snow-flakes)... at the Runes... usual time... forgot to tell you at breakf..." He hmpfs, looks at his watch and throws away the cigarette.
CUT
Runes. It's warm, cozy and the food is delicious. Appropriate music.
"You see, Potter, you have at least managed to achieve something! All right, it isn't politics, but still – a Seeker in the national team... Well, that faux pas with Spaniards, that was really... I suppose, we shall never get The Cup now..."
"Well, if Spain loses to the Poles..."
"Don't make me laugh. No chance. What Poles, what kind of a people is that, anyway? (sipping at his red wine). And yet, Potter, all the same, you have at least made something of yourself... and not merely that lone ranger you kept playing at. And look at him? Not only is he lazy as a sloth, it doesn't bother him in the slightest!"
"No, really, he studies hard, I've seen it... and at the breakfast table, you should see him:" -Harry is generosity itself - "all class, suspenders and striped ties and crisp shirts, the perfect lawyer" Lucius enjoys hearing it. "He just needs time. And a nice girl, or whatever, you know... That keeps you in form, anyway."
"That does sharpen one's self-discipline, certainly," Lucius nods, and they wait while the sommelier is pouring more wine.
"... Yes, Potter, looking at you... my goodness, how much bad blood there was between us... And all those fights we had... They just kept throwing us together, in forests and valleys..."
"Mm-hmm. (chewing)... remember that one in the Ministry?"
"Oh, that's unforgettable! All those damned glass balls shattering, what a sight! And how many complaints we had afterwards, in the vein of, you morons, give me back my Prophecy... Thank Merlin I was not the one who had to deal with them... Or not... depends on how you see it...
Harry remembers Lucius' Azkaban period and nods sympathetically.
"Whenever I start remembering, I always feel so old..." (they laugh together)
"Come on, Potter! If you say that, what does that make me?"
"A son of a bitch," a distinct voice from above.
Potter and Malfoy slowly raise their heads towards the towering black wall of indignation beside the table. After a short silence Potter is the first one to pull himself together:
"Professor, it's not what you think it is, it was a coincidence, I can expl..." but Snape only pants angrily, pressing his lips and staring at Lucius. In the meantime, Lucius also manages to come to his senses.
"That'll teach you punctuality, you old serpent," – with an acid smile. "See: you come a bit too late, and miss the generation change!"
Harry is indignant:
"Don't listen to him, Professor!"
"Potter, go away ," through his teeth.
"Of course, he'll stay, Sev (aside: "after all, he's paying for my dinner"). Harry, sit down and stop fussing. Sev; I simply cannot understand you. Free love in a free country, - were these not your words?" he evidently basks in the situation, but Snape isn't going to share his elation. He throws them a final lightning-bolt stare (the tablecloth starts smoking slightly), turns around and leaves. Harry feels desperately embarrassed, but Lucius is patting him on his shoulder.
"Don't take it to heart, I'll talk to him, it's nothing new... How about some cheese? Ice-cream?"
CUT
Subtitles: «21:54»
The kitchen. Snape sits on a barstool and absentmindedly stirs something definitely alcoholic in the cauldron. The door opens reluctantly, and in comes Harry, tip-toeing. Seeing Snape, and having made sure that Snape has seen him, resolutely walks to the kitchen. Snape, menacingly:
"Potter..."
"Sir, I won't leave until I've said what I have to say," he speaks very fast. "It was a mean thing to do, although actually I'd thought, he was supposed to be meeting Hermie (notices a slight horror in Snape's eyes and catches himself)... anyway, it really doesn't matter at all, the main thing is that I had absolutely not intention of getting between you and Malfoy, it was a mere coincidence, and besides, he saved my life, absolutely by accident.. and... and... and... Sir, I know how it feels to someone you love..." (Harry definitely overdoes the pathos, and Snape twists his nose: "If he says 'absolutely' just one more time; I'll...") "No, it's true! To lose, and not to have... at all... It's absolutely... terrible, I completely sympathise, I myself, for so many years... well, anyway..." At this point, Snape begins looking at him carefully, while Harry is practically eating him with his eyes.
"Potter," quietly says Snape, getting up. "The world doesn't revolve around Lucius..."
At this very moment... Draco comes out of his room. ("Dammit." This is not an author's note, but rather a semiconscious feeling shared by both.) Snape and Harry look at him.
"Professor... I'm not interrupting?"
Harry turns back and goes to his room.
Draco goes inside the kitchen, sniffs at the steam from the cauldron, puts a finger into the brew and slowly licks it off with great pleasure (Here the audience should make an understanding Ahhhh...).
"You had a fight," he remarks.
Snape raises a brow.
"Mom told me." The second brow goes up. "Oh, you know her, she senses these things: 'Came home early, surly... come on, Draco,' she tells me, 'reconcile them, or, if his yang is unbalanced, then yin gets unbalanced too," or was it the other way around?" Snape rolls his eyes. "Or, says she, get Sev to come over, and we'll remember those good old days, you know, the three of us is next to nothing, of course, but..." Snape swiftly gags him with a spoonful of the beverage. "Mmmm... (licking his lips) so here I am... to reconcile..." moves closer to Snape, Snape moves towards him... and suddenly...
"Ouch! Let go!..." Snape firmly holds him by his ear.
"You knew about Potter in the Runes, didn't you, you scum?"
"No, no, I swear by my mother..."
"Don't yell, you'll scare people."
"Then let go of my ear... ouuuuchhh... yes, yes, I knew, just let me go..." now Snape grabs him by the collar, and Draco whines aside, "no, S&M is definitely not my thing..."
"Now then, you little bugger..."
Just at this moment, the two doors open: the one – because of the noise, revealing Potter and a sleepy Weasley; the other, the front door – with Lucius. Snape immediately lets Draco go, but too late, and so for a couple of seconds there is a complex but silent exchange of glances, which Ron observes with curiosity from the sidelines. First, Lucius and Draco look at each other (derisive smirk – derisive stubbornness), as do Potter and Snape (surprise with a bit of suspicion – surprise with a tiny bit of guilt mixed in). Then the glances switch, while Snape tries hard not to utter the infamous "it's not what you think it is", Draco and Harry silently stare daggers at each other; Snape and Malfoy are first full of disdain, then gradually they begin to smile. First this is a sarcastic "What could I have expected?" smirk, which broadens into a shared "old buddies" grin. The silent war threatens to become an idyll, when suddenly Hermione appears out of her room.
"Who was shouting?" The pencil behind one ear and her absentminded glance point to a recent immersion in hard science. Suddenly she sniffs the air.
"That cologne..." now she's growling. "I'd know it anywhere..." she turns, sees Malfoy Sr. and starts taking breath for an explosion à la Sirius Black's mommy and, what is most striking! – her messed-up hair starts moving and turns into writhing snakes (two of which immediately attack the pencil).
Shocked back into anger, Lucius darts a glance to Snape, reads on his lips a clear "Run for your life!", weighs up his chances for a split second, then rushes out to disapparate with a loud bang behind the door (almost like in Hogwarts – it is not polite to dis-/apparate right from the living-room here).
Hermione is slightly disappointed. Harry and Ron are still petrified at the sight of her locks, but Draco is enchanted:
"Well, Granger, mud... muggleborn, as you are (after a light poke from Snape), you most certainly had real Furies in your ancestry, congratulations!
Hermione shakes her snakes, which immediately turn to hair again.
"No, Malfoy," she says with dignity. "This is an acquired asset. Good night."
CUT
Postscript:
Harry, Ron, and Hermione at the phone. Hermione:
"OK then, how about this one?" She taps the buttons, and one can hear Bohemian Rhapsody: "I'm just a poor boy, nobody loves me..."
Harry, categorically:
"No, this won't do either." Hermione glances at Ron, just as song continues: "He's just a poor boy from a poor family...". Ron resolutely shakes his head as well. Hermione exasperatedly rolls her eyes, at which her hair begins to move slightly.
"On second thoughts," contemplates Harry. Ron nods quickly: "It's great, we'll take it."