Wow...it certainly took me awhile to get back here, didn't it? It wasn't until I got a few reviews that I remembered I hadn't finished this story yet! Ack! Real life has that way of taking over and squeezing the life out of you until you have to focus all creative engergies into making yourself breathe in and out everyday. Or maybe that's just me. At any rate, I finished chapter 19 and went ahead with posting chapters 15 through 19 at once. I won't speculate on when I'll have 20 up because I will inevitably miss that deadline.
Thanks for those who reviewed...and especially those who have hung in as long as you have to see this story finished. :)
Disclaimer: JKR...not mine. Got it?
Warning: If you haven't realized by now that this is a Mary Sue fic then you deserver your torment. Kthxbye.
Chapter Fifteen: Birthday Surprises
The Valentine's Day Emotional Massacre came and went with only a few mummers about the course of events at the Three Broomsticks. Harry and I took them in stride and took great amusement in making people think we were a couple—staging fake fights and the like. Harry took to calling me "dear" on occasion—I reciprocated by calling him "dumbass". It was all in the name of fun.
Two weeks flew by and it was March before we knew it—more importantly, it was March 1st and Ron's birthday. The last few years, it turned out, didn't really allow for much celebration. There was the stone thingie, a giant man-eating snake, and an escaped murderer…those things tend to take the life out of a party. It was all Harry and Hermione's idea and Fred, George, Ginny, and I were all ready to help. By the time we actually got plans together we'd managed to get all the Gryffindor 5th years plus the Quidditch team to pitch in with arrangements.
By the evening of Ron's birthday we had everything figured out. Harry, Ron, Fred, George, and Ginny would all be busy at Quidditch practice. This left ample time for the rest of us to decorate the common room and get the food—and that meant a trip to the kitchens. Hermione and I decided to get the food and left the rest of Gryffindor to finish with the streamers and balloons, however even as we left we could hear Neville give a yelp. I smiled to myself—I had bet Hermione a Knut that Neville would be bound in streamers and hung up by the time we got back.
"You haven't been to the kitchens before, have you?" Hermione asked as we stepped through the Fat Lady's portrait.
"Nope," I replied, but inwardly I was rolling my eyes. Harry had warned me that Hermione would go on and on about the plight of the house-elves. I hadn't even actually seen a house-elf since I'd gotten to Hogwarts, which was one of the reasons I'd volunteered to get the food. From Harry's description of one named Dobby they sounded like overgrown rats that liked to carry trays and bang themselves into walls.
We were nearly down to the Great Hall and Hermione hadn't stopped jabbering the whole way. I heard something along the lines of "—Blah, blah, blah…servants…blah, blah, blah…atrocious…", but I wasn't really paying attention. We had passed the Great Hall and were well on our way through the dungeon level. I had to suppress a shudder at the though of running into Snape while we were down here—I swore to myself thinking that I should have taken the Marauders Map from Harry as a precaution. Live and learn…and then get detention. I was making a mental food list in my head when Hermione stopped suddenly in front of a large painting.
"Uh, Hermione?" I asked. She didn't skip a beat of her "Save the House-Elf" speech as she reached out and poked at a giant pear in the painting. I had to do a double take because the pear actually started laughing and then slowly began to twitch and swing open. She stepped through and I followed suit—and nearly fell over.
Dozens upon dozens of small, batty-eared creatures were running around the room. For a minute it felt like being in a beehive as they chattered away with a high-pitched voice as pairs of large, luminous eyes scurried to and fro. Nobody—or no thing—had seemed to notice our presence…or so I thought until one of the little buggers sauntered right up to us.
"Miss! Miss!"
Hermione and I looked down into two huge green eyes the size of tennis balls. He (or she—I had no idea how to tell) had a long thin nose and didn't look like he'd be taller than my waist.
"Hello, Dobby!" Hermione exclaimed as she bent down to give a small hug to an equally small house-elf. "How are you?"
"Very well, Miss! Very well! Dobby has been wanting to visit you, Wheezy, and Harry Potter for a long time—"
"Wheezy?" I muttered out of the corner of my mouth.
"Ron," Hermione muttered back.
"—And here you have come to Dobby!" Dobby began to strain to look around us.
"Oh, they couldn't come, Dobby. They had Quidditch practice, but I brought a friend of ours. Dobby, I'd like you to meet Regina Bradshaw. Reggie, this is Dobby." Hermione was beaming, like she was introducing the Queen herself.
I reached out to shake Dobby's hand, but instead he bowed so low that his long nose touched the floor. I shot Hermione a look of confusion, but she was simply looking down at Dobby with something of pity.
"Oh, Dobby, you don't have to—" Hermione began, but Dobby cut her off
"An honor it is to meet Miss Bradshaw! We have heard much about you!"
I glanced over at Hermione, but she looked as dumbstruck as I was. "Uh, how is it you know about me?"
"We house-elves live very near the dungeons. Always hearing Professor Snape muttering about Miss Bradshaw." Dobby said, still grinning.
I rolled my eyes. "Great, well I hope you didn't pay too much attention. I assure you I'm not as horrible as he makes me out to be." Hermione opened her mouth, but I held up a hand to stop her from contradicting me. Never scare or piss off the people who prepare your food, Uncle Jack said to me a while back.
"So, Dobby," I continued, "I hear that this is the place to go when you need some grub."
Dobby grinned even more and nodded. Hermione was casting a reproachful look, but I tried to pay her no mind. Dobby looked up at me with his huge eyes shining, "Oh, yes, Miss! Yes, indeed!" Several of the other house-elves had apparently heard my request and were now gathering around us anxiously, all wearing that same eager expression as Dobby.
"Er—okay," I cleared my throat and glanced at Hermione, "We need some party food—it's for Ron's birthday party."
Before I had even finished explaining who it was for several of the little bat-like creatures had scattered and were busily piling trays and pitchers full of food and drinks. They didn't look put out at the request at all—in fact, they seemed excited to do it.
" I think it's horrible," Hermione muttered, "the way that they're forced to wait on wizards hand and foot. It's disgusting."
"This is awesome!" I exclaimed, paying no attention to Hermione's glare. It was like Oompa Loompas had come to Hogwarts—only they'd mutated into strange bat-creatures with squeaky voices. They all seemed nice enough despite Hermione's ranting about the downtrodden house-elf. I watched them while smiling in awe—dozens of packages suddenly came bounding up towards us.
"Think this'll be enough?" I grunted under the weight of several boxes.
"Dobby could help carry them, Misses!" Dobby piped up. I glanced around the tower in my arms and grinned.
"That's alright, Dobby. We'll manage!" Hermione replied. She shot me a look that I'm sure meant we are NOT asking them for anything else! I sighed—it was a long trip back up.
After having to refuse several more trays of food and shaking off Dobby's vice-like hug, we were ambling towards the stairs. Hermione was managing fine—I however…
"ACK!" I tripped over the first staircase that lead out of the dungeons. Boxes went scattering to the floor and snacks flew everywhere. I meanwhile, landed on my knees and managed to scrape both my palms.
"Reg, are you okay?" Hermione gasped. She spun around from a few steps ahead so abruptly that several of the boxes shifted unstably.
"Ow. Yeah," I muttered. I winced and turned over to survey the damage then groaned, "Crap! It's everywhere."
"Hang on, I'll help," Hermione said and began to make her way back down.
"No, that's alright. You'd better get up there. Ron and the others will be getting back from practice soon and everyone will want the snacks. Go ahead—I'll just be behind you." I said as I began picking up biscuits from the floor.
"All right. Just don't be too long—it's almost curfew and you're awfully close to Snape's office." Hermione warned. She turned back up the stairs and re-balanced the food in her arms.
I muttered to myself as I scooped up cookies and rolls, blowing some dust off them as I went along. Eh, what they don't know won't hurt them. The thought was tempting to just go back to the kitchen and ask for some more food but it was nearly nine and Hermione's warning was ringing in my ear—as well as those footsteps. Wait—FOOTSTEPS! The box full of chicken in my hands fell to the floor as I listened—those were definitely footsteps and they were definitely coming my way.
I jerked my head from one side of the hall to the other—a staircase and a suit of armor. Damn it! I tried to scoop what boxes hadn't fallen apart into my arms while kicking the rest into the shadows. Click…click…click. There was something very familiar about that pace…
"Snape!" I whispered to myself frantically. I continued to search hopelessly for a hiding spot—then it appeared. A tapestry behind the suit of armor fell all the way to the floor. I bolted over towards it just as the footsteps came closer. No sooner had I ducked behind the drape than that all-familiar, all-hated, tall dark figure came lurking into the hallway.
"Professor, there you are!" another voice called.
Snape spun around abruptly several feet away from where I was hiding. What had at first been bumbling panic was now turning into unadulterated fear—that other voice belonged to Professor McGonagall. The two teachers who single-handedly made me the Hogwarts detention-holding champion—here…standing 5 feet away from me in the dungeons at curfew with my arms full of illegal foods. I mouthed words that would make Peeves blush as I listened in.
"Something I can assist you with, Professor?" Snape replied dryly.
"Actually, I was coming to ask for a favor, Severus. It seems that repellant you gave me to keep animal dropping from sticking to surfaces doesn't work so well when the animal is—well—blown up." said McGonagall.
"Let me guess. Longbottom?"
"He was practicing in there this evening and there are rat parts all over the classroom. I managed to get most of it with a quick scourfiying spell, but the rest—"
"I have some in my office," Snape said, "I was just on my way there now when—" he stopped short. I stopped breathing as I heard him began to sniff, "Is that chicken?"
I gulped and looked down at my robes—in my haste to find hiding I had shoved two chicken breasts into my pockets and shoved the rest into the corner.
"We're right next to the kitchen, Severus," McGonagall said. Summoning what stupidity and courage I had left I peeked around the edge of the curtain to see the two of them. McGonagall was shrugging, but Snape was looking around as if expecting to catch someone. Oh, hell. It had finally caught my eye—a box lying just to Snape's right, barely hidden by the shadows. From the look of what was leaking from the bottom I knew it was one of the cream pies Dobby had unloaded on us. I winced—if Snape found that box not only would it mean trouble for Dobby and the other house-elves, but I knew exactly who Snape would go to find the food. I had gotten Ron some Sickles and Chudley Cannons poster for a present—I didn't want to give him a detention as well.
"True," Snape muttered, "but shortly before you found me I heard voices down this hallway. Student voices."
Damn, damn, damn! I was mentally screaming at myself—if Snape found that pie I was done for. I glanced back at the box and thought quickly—if he turned around I might have a chance at summoning the box in enough time. But only if he moved.
"Honestly, Severus! Do you really think that there are students lurking behind every corner waiting to pounce on you? It's Friday, for Merlin's sake—I'm sure they have more pressing engagements that do not involve the dungeons." McGonagall said.
In my panicked state I had to stifle a laugh. Professor McGonagall was having a go at Snape's paranoia. As infuriating as I found her to be sometimes I had to admit that I liked McGonagall's dry sense of humor. You go girl!
"Amusing, Minerva. I will bring the potion up to your office later this evening if it's convenient for you." Snape replied, slightly smirking.
"That will be fine, thank you, Severus." McGonagall nodded and turned up to the staircase.
That's when it happened. At some point in your life you have that one moment (or several) when you let yourself feel more secure than you should. I should've waited to hear two sets of footsteps moving away from the stairs. I should've peeked around the tapestry to make sure I was alone. For God's sake, I should've physically gotten out from my hiding spot and dealt with it manually instead of magically. But when have I ever used one ounce of common sense? Why would today be any different? That's why when I opened my mouth first and looked up second I knew I had uttered the words to my own death sentence.
"Accio pie!" I hissed. My hissing didn't go unnoticed because next thing I knew Snape had whipped around and was lunging towards the tapestry.
Unfortunately, the pie reached him before me.
I closed my eyes as Snape howled—the creamy pie goodness had smacked him square in the face.
"Severus, what in Merlin's name—" McGonagall was shrieking and brandishing her wand as she came tearing back down the stairs. She stopped short as she came to us. Me—my wand still extended in attempt to summon the pie—and Snape—who's face was covered in chocolate cream. Slowly, I reached out with my other hand and pulled back the tapestry—smiling sheepishly. Her mouth hung open for shock for a moment, "What—in—" she looked from Snape to me, the sides of her mouth twitching.
"I—I—I—" I stammered. I ran through the list of rehearsed apologies in my head, but I'd never practiced one in case I smacked one of my teachers with baked goods. It was hard to think of something to say while my entire life was flashing in front of my eyes. "Accident…p-pie…p-party. S-s-sorry…don't k-kill m-me…" I was blubbering.
Even through the pie drippings I could see Snape's face go a shade of red I didn't think humanly possible. His eyes were wide and had a crazy glint as he pointed a shaking finger at me.
"You."
I dropped the boxes I had been holding in my other arm and pieces of broken cookies went scattering to the floor. I jumped as I suddenly felt pressure on my right arm. I jerked my head to see McGonagall staring at Snape, but speaking very calmly to me, "Miss Bradshaw, I will see you for detention in my office Monday evening." Her voice was shaking—not with rage, but as if she were fighting off gut-wrenching laughter.
"You—" Snape hissed again, this time reaching for me.
"Miss Bradshaw, I think it's best if you go now." McGonagall choked out.
"ImsorryprofessorI'llseeyouonMondaygoodnight!" I shouted, then took off—two steps at a time—and didn't stop until I reached the Fat Lady's portrait. Of course, even from two stories away I heard Snape screaming and McGonagall howling with laughter.
As I stepped through the portrait the sounds of the party did little to squelch the sickening feeling in my stomach. I had pied the most feared teacher in Hogwarts.
"Reggie!" Hermione cried as I flopped down into a chair, "What happened? We've been waiting for…" she trailed off.
"Reg?" Harry asked, his mouth half full with cake. Ron was behind him, eying me suspiciously as well.
"Have you been in the mickey?" Ron asked, grinning, "bring any back?"
"I hit Snape," I muttered, not looking away from the fireplace.
"WHAT!" All three yelled. The entire common room went dead silent. Plates clinked and a single student coughed, but all eyes were fixed on the booming question. It was one of those eerily quite moments that you see in the movies when someone makes a shocking revelation. Kinda like that.
"What happened?" Fred asked, removing one of his invisible hats.
"I…hit…Snape," I said again. There were several gasps, "…with a pie," I finished.
The silence was deafening as I looked up at Harry and Ron, "It was chocolate…but I didn't bring it. He was wearing it…and…it made it hard…" I had no control over my own vocabulary at that point.
The silence lasted about 2 more seconds before the entire room burst out in laughter. Fred and George were on the floor while Harry and Ron were leaning on chairs to keep from falling themselves. Hermione was simply looking at me with the same look of shock that I was wearing.
"You hit Snape?" she whispered.
"With a pie." I replied. I looked up at her and shook my head, "All I said was 'Accio pie' and…" I flayed my arm towards the fire.
Hermione sat down on the arm next to me and patted my hand, "It's all right. He can't have you expelled, but you might get—"
"—Detention. McGonagall. She was there." I muttered.
"Wait! Wait!" Ron howled, wiping a tear from his eye, "McGonagall was there too? She saw Snape? Covered in pie?" I nodded dumbly sending another wave of howling laughter rolling through the common room.
I buried my head in my hands. Under normal circumstances, I probably would've been dancing on the tables doing pie-covered Snape impersonations, but this time it was different. I loathed Snape and I thought him to be a truly despicable man, but something about having humiliated someone who's opinion I held in high esteem (for some ungodly reason unknown to me) had sucked all the joy out of the occasion. Besides, Snape didn't seem to be the kind of person to just wipe his face with a hanky and say "Oh, well. Shit happens". I knew what I had to do now—never sleep for the rest of my life and put protective wards around myself from now until when I graduated Hogwarts. I wondered if Uncle Jack would send me a bodyguard if I asked for one for my birthday. I was so caught up in my own self-misery that I hadn't notice the party go quiet again or heard McGonagall calling for me.
"Miss Bradshaw!" McGonagall snapped again.
I jumped out of my chair so abruptly that Hermione went crashing to the ground. "Yes, ma'am." I squeaked.
"A word outside, if you please?" She gestured towards the outside hallway.
I gulped and cast a panicked look towards Hermione, Ron, and Harry, each of them looking worried. Well, you had a good run while it lasted. Maybe Hagrid will take you on as an assistant. Or you could be a bar wench at the Three Broomsticks.
"Professor, I am so sorry! I know I shouldn't have been down there and I would've stayed to clean up, but you both looked so angry and I'll just go back upstairs and pack—" I ran through it all so fast and turned to run back inside, but McGonagall caught me by the shoulder.
"What in heaven's name are you babbling about, Bradshaw?" McGonagall asked. I looked up at her and was surprised not to see blind rage, but something of amusement.
"I just assaulted a teacher," I said, "Professor Snape." She raised an eyebrow. "I hit Professor Snape with a pie." I said again.
"Miss Bradshaw, do you really expect us to expel a student over assault with bakery goods? I assure you, if we wanted to expel you it would have been for some of your more creative endeavors." McGonagall said dryly.
"So Sn—I mean, Professor Snape isn't angry?" I asked hesitantly.
"Oh, no, by all means he's furious," McGonagall assured me.
"Thank you. I feel so much better," I muttered. I rubbed my forehead, "So what happens to me now?"
"Detention for a week with me, but Professor Snape will be thinking of a suitable punishment for you as well." McGonagall said—the for the first time I saw something of a smile cross those thin lips, "Nothing morbidly painful, I assure you. It may be a bit of a trial for your dignity, but nothing I haven't see you recover from before."
I gulped again at the thought of Snape thinking of a punishment specifically for me. Oh hell. It would probably involve something sharp and rusty. And pointy.
"Is that all?" I whispered.
McGonagall definitely smiled, "I think that's plenty for now, Miss Bradshaw, don't you?" I nodded fiercely. "Then I suggest you go rejoin your classmates."
I turned and started to step back through the portrait. "Oh, and Miss Bradshaw," I looked back, "Tell Mr. Weasley 'Happy Birthday'" and that thin smile twitched again.
I took a deep breath, smiled, and nodded. How I had just managed to get through the last 15 minutes, I never knew, but one thing from that day forward was certain. I would forever go down as a Hogwarts legend.