This is a story of healing — my own as well as that of the characters. It was not always easy writing, since the behaviour of our favourite anti-hero from the books — much of which was either played down or completely omitted from the films — sometimes hit too close to home in terms of my own life experience. I hope it also brings you the healing it has brought me.
For her friendship, her healing support, her advice and her beta skills, I am eternally grateful to the incredible Riverwoman. All characters are owned by J. K. Rowling and Warner Brothers' Wizarding World; any lingering errors are mine.
NB: if you are film rather than book-centric, you may struggle with some of this content. I strongly recommend consulting the books if that is the case.
'Are we supposed to be in here?' The querulous voice came from a very old wizard, leaning on both staff and doorpost, and peering in at his companion who was squinting myopically at a box full of slim, plastic cases on a shelf beside the desk.
'What do you think?' retorted his companion.
'Shouldn't we go, then?'
'Do as you wish,' said the other dismissively. 'I want to know what the idiot does all night when he's not patrolling the halls and making sure we're being good little boys and girls. What the hell are these things, anyway?'
He succeeded in liberating the box, but dropped it with a crash, disgorging its contents all over the floor. 'Bugger.'
'Now we're for it,' quavered the wizard by the door.
'Rubbish,' countered the other. 'Old Snivellus might be falling to bits but there's nothing wrong with the bastard's mind. He's still got it in the potions department. Young Stevenson should be out all night. And, what's more, he'll wake up in his little bed, having dreamt he's been on patrol all that time. Bloody wonderful. Now get over here and help me get all this stuff back in the box. I'll need a bloody levitation charm after all. Time was when I could have just picked up the whole damned cupboard — without magic.'
'Yes. That was about a century ago,' said a woman's voice from outside in the corridor.
'And the rest,' grumbled the would-be thief. 'Now, is anyone going to help me get all this to the staff room? Because if I have to carry all these … whatever-they-are, we'll be here all bloody night.'
'And he calls himself a wizard,' scoffed the woman, edging past the man in the doorway. 'Remus, darling, why don't you go and find Severus. We'll be down in a couple of minutes. Better than blocking the doorway, eh?'
The old man shuffled slowly away.
She glided into the room and, taking out her wand, soon had everything in the box and the box floating in the air between them.
'Who forgot their wand again?' she scolded. 'I swear, James Potter, you'd forget your head if it wasn't nailed on.'
'Useless damned thing keeps disappearing,' he muttered as they made their slow way along the corridor.
'Yes, and the Chudley Cannons will win the League this year,' smiled his wife, her warm green eyes full of fond sadness. 'I hope the youngsters are back. We are probably going to need their help. It's a very long time since I saw any muggle toys.'
'What toys would these be, mother dear?' enquired a younger man as he appeared through a set of glass doors at the hallway's far end.
'Oh, Harry, darling you're just in time,' cried Lily Potter as she moved to embrace her son. 'Your father has found these *things* in the office and we're dying to know what they're for.'
'Father! You didn't!' Harry was shocked but impressed.
'Well,' prevaricated his father 'Your Uncle Sirius actually got us in here. What that man doesn't know about locks. Then old Severus dreamed up one hell of a potion. The poor old bugger is a bloody genius; I'll have to give him that.'
'And?' put in a slender woman, her long once-red hair cascading down her back.
'Hello to you, too, sweetheart,' said her father-in-law, putting an arm around her waist.
'And we've been exploring,' he said confidentially into her ear. 'They've got all kinds of muggle stuff in this part of the building. Godric knows why. We were just — well — curious.'
Ginny sighed. 'We go away for two days, and this is what you get up to. How long have you all been planning this?'
They had turned the corner and were heading for a large, brightly lit room with comfortable recliners, sofas and tables.
'Well, this is a bit of all right,' commented James as they entered. 'Looks better than ours.'
'You bet,' came the voice of a tall, grizzled figure from across the room. He straightened and his long, iron-grey hair revealed a spare face which had once been handsome, and which still bore a certain lively glint in the eyes. 'Just look at that.' He pointed at the screen on the wall. 'Am I a bloody wizard, or aren't I?'
The tv screen showed only snow and there was a strange hiss coming from it.
'Oh sure,' drawled a thin, white-haired wizard from one of the nearby sofas. 'Very pretty. What is it?'
'Well, if you'd seen fit to get off that narrow, aristocratic arse of yours and lend us a hand,' snapped the tall man, 'you'd know it's what Arthur calls the video channel.' He flourished a scroll of closely written script. 'You won't see anything until we find another machine to play those things.' He pointed at the box still floating between the elder Potters. 'Arthur calls them DVDs — whatever the hell they are. I just know you put them in a machine, you plug the thing in here' he indicated a small jack in the front of the screen 'and then you put these discs things in and there are things on them. I'll bet you anything you like that's what the young numbskull watches when he's meant to be on night duty.'
'All right, smarty pants,' retorted the white-haired man 'what do you need me for if you have it all figured out?'
'Well, I could have done with a little help reading this damned scroll,' pouted the taller man. 'My eyes aren't what they once were.'
'Have you two quite finished,' snapped Lily as she lowered the box gently to a nearby shelf. 'I think this is what we're looking for. Draco, dear, would you come here and help me sort out this mess. You've got the best eyes.'
The white-haired man levered himself off the sofa with some difficulty and made his careful way across the room. 'Hand me one of those DVE …'
'DVD,' chorused several voices.
Draco sighed. 'DVD, then. If these muggles have any sense at all there'll be some kind of printing to tell them what it is.'
He held the case gingerly in his arthritic hands, fascinatedly turning it over and over. Then he dropped it on the floor.
'Clothead,' cried James. 'What did you go and do that for?'
But Draco's face had blanched, and he just stood there, appearing not to know where he was.
Harry pulled his wand and levitated the disc from the floor, floating it over to the light for a better look. He didn't blanch like Draco, but his face took on a peculiar cast as he read aloud 'Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone'.
'What?' chorused several voices.
'Who's been fiddling with a deafening charm?' growled a new voice from the doorway. The voice was thin, but its owner was thinner. The wheelchair in which he was gliding was being propelled wandlessly and silently towards the group with unerring precision, even as its occupant's dark eyes gazed sightlessly around the room. 'It is fortunate,' continued the voice 'that my potion is of sufficient strength. You are all making enough noise to awaken the dead. I had no difficulty in finding the correct door; thank you for asking.' No one replied. 'Remus,' called the man without turning his head, 'I do not suppose there is any chance they have all miraculously banished themselves?'
'Don't you wish,' retorted Sirius.
'Actually, I don't,' replied Snape coolly. 'From where else would I derive my daily entertainment?'
'Nice to know we still have our uses,' drawled Draco, finally coming to himself. 'Now where was that disc?'
'I've got it,' called Harry. 'It says …'
'I know what it says,' snapped Draco. 'I — I just couldn't … couldn't' He stumbled over to the sofa he had recently occupied and collapsed onto it.
'Would anyone care to explain what on Merlin's green earth is happening?' demanded Snape?
'Well, Prof dear,' said Ginny sweetly, 'if you come late to the party, you must expect to play catch-up.'
'Did someone say party?' James' head shot up and his eyes took on a ghost of their former sparkle. 'Bet that daft old bag who calls herself Matron has some whisky in her office. She looks the type.'
'No worries,' said a younger voice at the head of a sizable contingent. 'We heard the game was afoot and thought supplies may be needed.'
'Neville, you're a bloody marvel,' cackled James. 'Glad to see someone's got their priorities right.'
'So, what have we missed?' asked Ron as bottles, glasses, plates and platters were deposited strategically around the room.
Harry wordlessly handed him the case containing the disc.
'Bloody fucking hell!' ejaculated Ron, passing the disc to his wife.
'If someone does not tell me what is going on this instant, I swear I shall hex all of you into oblivion.'
Snape's soft voice drilled into their brains, found the appropriate levers, latched onto them and pulled. All the younger ones winced.
Hermione rolled her walker over to the wheelchair and placed the slim case into the almost-transparent hands.
'This,' she explained, 'is called a Digital Video Disc or DVD. You watch films and things on it. It says it's called,' she hesitated, disbelief slowly blooming onto her lined face 'Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone.'
The room fell silent as the face of the older man went blank for a few seconds. Then a slow smile began transforming the skeletal mask. 'Really?' he drawled. 'Intriguing. I should very much like to see this.'
Hermione took the slim case from his unresisting grasp and glided over to Sirius, who was rummaging around in the box.
'That's it,' she cried triumphantly, reaching around him to pluck a padded case from the jumble. 'That'll be the portable player.' She unzipped the case and pulled out a squarish object with a transparent lid and a few buttons on the front and sides.
'Panasonic,' drawled Sirius. 'What a strange name for a machine.'
'It's the brand — the people who made it,' cut in Harry as he sauntered over. 'Mione and I've got this, Unc. You go and relax. It can't be too much different from the old VHS tapes we used to have.'
'It's not,' confirmed Hermione. 'Ron and I had one of these for years. Can't think what one would be doing here, though. I must admit,' she continued as she sorted out the cables 'to being mighty curious. I'd read somewhere that some muggle had written about us, but I had no idea … ah.' She found the plug she wanted and inserted it into the player. The other end went into the tv. Harry swiftly took the power plug and inserted it into a rectangular box on the floor. Then Hermione pressed the power button, waited a few seconds, then opened the slim case and inserted the round, silver disc into the player. The hissing sound coming from the tv ceased, and a list of options replaced the snow on the screen.
'Oh look,' cried Hermione. 'It says there's an audio description track.'
'And what's that when it's at home?' grumbled James.
'I surmise,' sneered Snape, from the meaning of the words, that it means all of you are (How would you put it?) off the hook.'
'Snivellus. Do you think you could get the broomstick out of your arse long enough to tell us what the hell you're on about?'
Snapped James.
'It's a special description track to tell blind people what's happening on the screen,' supplied Hermione.
'Won't that get annoying?' pouted Draco.
'Yes. It will become exceedingly annoying if you do not play it,' growled Snape. 'especially for those who will be forced to recite me a full commentary. Would anyone like to volunteer?' Everyone looked at one another. 'I thought not,' he said smugly. 'Get on with it, then.'
Everyone settled themselves on recliners and sofas with their choice of food and drink, and Hermione looked about her.
'Isn't there supposed to be a remote control for this machine?'
'Sorry,' said Sirius sheepishly shifting slightly. 'I must have been sitting on it. Wondered why I was so damned uncomfortable.'
'All right, then,' announced Hermione, 'the muggle version of Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone.'
She pressed play and they all watched as the copyright message displayed, followed by the Warner Brothers logos and a lamplit street, which The Audio Describer confirmed as Privet Drive.
'So that's where they wound up,' mused Lily as she grabbed a double handful of warm popcorn. 'MMMMM. This stuff takes me back.'
Then her face, along with most of the others, lit up as a familiar figure appeared in the street.
'Goodness! They've done him well,' commented Hermione. 'And that cat just has to be old Prof McGonagall.'
'Hush!' growled Snape. 'I have only one sense with which to work now, and you are causing a disturbance!'
The closing of mouths was almost audible. Everyone watched in silence as Harry's fate was decided, and the view switched from the infant to the boy Harry, living under the stairs.
Both Lily's and James' faces turned thunderous as they watched the scenes with the Dursleys unfold. They moved closer together and clasped one another as if drowning.
'Oh, Merlin, Harry,' breathed his mother. 'This makes it all so — so much more real, somehow. I'll never forgive her for this.'
Snape was seated in his wheelchair beside Harry and Ginny on a loveseat. They had watched in silence, arms around one another, when a skeletal hand tentatively reached out towards Harry. The accompanying voice was barely audible.
'This really happened?'
Harry took the frail hand gently.
It really did. But it was a very long time ago now, Prof. Uncle Vernon was a bit scared after the first letter, so I was upgraded to Dudley's second bedroom. This doesn't show that happening.'
Snape's hand remained in Harry's, and Harry heard him chuckle when Hagrid attached a pig's tail to Dudley Dursley.
Everyone tucked into their refreshments as the film progressed through Diagon Alley and onto King's Cross station.
'Bloody hell! That's me,' cried Ron.
'That kid's better looking than you, son,' commented James. 'In fact, all the kids are on the cuter side, don't you reckon?' Aha! There's our Hermione. Just look at her.'
'No resemblance to us, then,' put in Neville, spying himself and his toad for the first time. 'Godric, I miss that little beast.'
Everyone sighed when Hogwarts first came into view, each of them perhaps remembering their own first sighting.
'Oh, and that can only be me,' gloated Draco.
No one answered. Each was anticipating the sorting ceremony, and they all watched breathlessly as each child took their turn. All eyes were on child Harry as he sat to receive the Hat's wisdom.
'Slytherin!' ejaculated James. 'It wanted to put you in …'
'Shush,' hissed Lily. She glanced over at Harry and Snape in the corner.
Another low chuckle issued from the frail throat. 'Harry, you dark horse. Why did you never tell them?'
'Not sure, Prof,' replied Harry with a smile. 'Maybe I just hadn't gotten around to it.'
They sat in silence and watched Harry and Ron show up late to Transfigurations class. Then all hell broke loose as the scene quickly shifted to Potions and their first real sighting of Snape.
'Hey, that's not right,' cried Hermione indignantly. 'That man's far too old to be playing the Professor.'
'And he's not thin enough,' put in Ron.
But they were all silenced when his speech began — all except Snape.
'By Salazar. I didn't say that!' he exploded. 'Who is this … this … usurper?'
'Give it a rest, Snivellus,' said James in a bored voice. 'Some of us are trying to watch.'
But Snape would not be consoled.
'I gave that same speech to every infernal first-year class for more than 15 years,' he raged. 'I should damn well know what I said!'
Harry glanced over at Hermione, who paused the film and joined them. When she attempted to take Snape's hand in consolation, however, he flung it out of the way and straightened as much as both chair and infirmity would allow. 'My body may be fit for little these days, but my mind is unaltered,' he declared, outrage visible in every line of his frail form. For your information, this is what I said.' He took a few breaths and his brow creased in thought. Then, softly, he began, and more than half of those present were transported back to that first Potions class. Everyone stared raptly at the old Potions Master. His body was ravaged and his frayed voice hardly to be heard, even in the silence, but his sheer presence was undiminished.
'You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion-making. As there is little foolish wand-waving here, many of you will hardly believe this is magic. I don't expect you will really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses ... I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even stopper death - if you aren't as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach.' He sat back with a satisfied sneer. 'That,' he added in a whisper, was a piece of poetry, and they … they …'
'Wasted on a bunch of 11-year-olds, then,' commented Sirius, who received a sharp slap on the hand from Lily.
'Yes, it was,' agreed Hermione solemnly as she again tried to take the older man's hand. This time he did not resist. 'Do you remember the theatre, Prof?' she asked? He nodded mutely. 'It's the same here. Someone writes a script, and the actors have to follow it. The man is just doing his job.'
'And a damned good one by the looks,' put in Dean from a sofa he and Seamus were sharing.
'Yeah,' added Seamus. 'He's got a fabulous voice.'
'And all the moves,' cut in Draco, who had not taken his eyes from the paused screen where film Snape was just in the act of turning his back in disgust with child Harry.
'Reel your eyes back in this minute, Draco Malfoy,' laughed Lily. 'The poor man's probably married.'
Harry grasped the other limp hand. 'To these people, we're just a story,' he reassured. 'Things will get twisted about; some things will be left out completely, while others will be added just because it looks good.'
'Yeah,' said Ron. 'At least that version didn't get to call us dunderheads. And Neville didn't get to see that bloody melted cauldron all over again.'
And you didn't get to blame me for it, thought Harry as he gently held the frail hand. He felt it squeezed as Snape seemed to read his mind.
'So just take everything with the proverbial grain of salt,' advised Hermione. 'It'll probably all come out right in the end. Now, on we go.'
'Humph,' retorted Snape as she released his hand to fiddle with the remote.
They watched, mouths open, as Harry made his first dramatic flight and became the youngest Seeker, followed by the incident with the Cerberus and their first Charms class with a Professor Flitwick whom they all agreed looked nothing like they remembered.
Then came the dramatic first Quidditch match. Everyone moved to the edge of their seats — some reliving, others watching with pride — as Harry successfully negotiated the curse on his broomstick and all but ate the snitch.
'Trust you children to put two and two together and come up with five,' remarked Snape reproachfully as Hermione succeeded In setting tv Snape's cloak alight.
Hermione gave him a sorrowful sigh.
Everyone helped themselves to more food and drink, and nothing much was said as the story progressed through Christmas and the Mirror of Erised.
Then followed a beautiful scene showing Hedwig flying high in a winter sky, over a Hogwarts blanketed in snow. By the time she returned, the snow had begun to melt, and term was obviously well under way, as evidenced by the next scene in the library.
'Why the …' That was Snape again. His face burned with outrage.
'They skated right over it! No, no — that is inaccurate. They surgically removed it. I nearly froze to death, just to ensure that contemptible Quirrell wouldn't be able to play his infantile games. And all for nothing. Dumbledore turned up to watch the match; I needn't have bothered. And you,' he rounded on Harry. 'you gave me the fright of my life, whizzing past my ear like that. I loathe flying!'
Draco and Dean nodded at one another and exchanged knowing glances.
'But I got the snitch, old friend,' smirked Harry.
'Good for you, Kid,' slurred his father, who had been sucking on a bottle of firewhisky. Lily reached over, removed it from him and banished it before he could protest.
'My first and last turn as a Quidditch referee, and they couldn't even see fit to include it,' mourned Snape. 'They insert this fluffy little scene instead.'
'Shhh. We're coming to the climax now,' hissed Harry. 'Let's see how they do this.'
Everyone cheered when Hermione saved her comrades from the Devil's Snare, and again when the trio used some fancy broom work to liberate the flying key from its myriad companions.
'Wish we really had been able to do that,' sighed Ron. 'Harry did it all by himself.'
Then came the chess game, concluding with the Describer announcing that the white king's sword had crashed at the children's feet.
Snape snickered. 'Well done, Mr Weasley. Pity you still haven't managed to beat me.'
'Oh, I don't know, Prof,' returned Ron. 'There's still time.'
'Oh, very sweet,' sneered Draco as child Hermione and Harry shared a hug and a moment before one went on and one went back.
'Hang on,' cried Harry. 'That didn't happen in the chess room. It happened in the …'
'Shhh,' said Hermione. 'That comes next.'
But it didn't. On the screen, Harry walked down a flight of steps and straight up to Professor Quirrell.
'They've done it to me again,' ejaculated Snape. 'The next chamber was my logic puzzle. Give me the name of that thrice-cursed script writer. He should receive the hex of his miserable life!'
'It'll come up in the credits at the end,' soothed Hermione. 'I agree with you. It was a brilliant puzzle.'
'At least they left that dirty great troll out as well,' added Harry. 'I wasn't keen on re-living that, even if the thing was unconscious. It smelled like the breath of Hades.'
Then came Harry's tussle with Quirrell and Voldemort which ended rather anti-climactically in Harry's opinion.
'That was a neat trick, specially without a wand,' quipped Sirius as Quirrell/Voldemort was defeated.
'Except it didn't happen that way and you know it,' returned Harry. 'Dumbledore turned up just in time.'
'Yeah, but it looks great on screen,' laughed Ron.
Everyone watched the final 15 minutes in silent contemplation.
'Ah, Hagrid,' smiled Hermione fondly. 'I do miss him so.'
'All in all, that wasn't too bad,' declared Ron.
'Speak for yourself,' retorted Snape. That (What was his name again?) Mr Cloves …'
'I'm more curious about the muggle who first wrote about us,' said Remus from a recliner across the room. The credits said it was a J. K. Rowling. Who on Merlin's green earth is he? And how did he know about us?'
'Actually,' said Hermione thoughtfully, 'I think he may be she. Now wear did I read that article? Goodness, but it was a long time ago now …' She rested her chin in her hands as she considered. 'Yes. It was that day I hung around in the foyer waiting for you, Ron. There was a magazine with this woman on the cover (Now what was her name?). Ah, yes. Joanne. That's it. Joanne Rowling.'
'So, what does the K stand for, then, smart girl?' asked Draco. 'The thing said J. K. Rowling.'
'Maybe it's just a — you know — an honorific,' suggested Lily. 'Like the muggle US President, Harry S Truman.'
'No, I don't think so,' replied Hermione with more confidence. 'though I can't, for the life of me, remember …'
'I don't care a fig what the muggle's middle initial is,' snorted Snape, thumping the arm of his chair. 'Lupin is right. How does she know about us? Is she a witch And why did she allow that … upstart to interfere?'
Hermione rolled her eyes. 'I feel some research coming on,' she said quietly to Ginny. 'Otherwise, we'll never hear the end of it.'
'I saw one of those (whatyoucallthems) computers in that office,' put in James. 'Maybe it's hooked up to that — that net thing Harry's always on about. Will that help?'
'Indeed it will,' said Hermione. 'We'll take a look later today, after we've all had a sleep.'
'I'm not a bit sleepy,' declared Snape.
'Neither am I,' put in Sirius. He crossed to the shelf and rummaged in the box again. 'Hey. There are seven more Harry Potter discs in here,' he enthused. 'It's only,' he glanced at the clock on the wall '02:30 now. That gives us time for another one. Who, besides Snape and me, is up for it?'
Murmurs of assent from all present caused Hermione to rise to her feet. 'In that case I, for one, am going to need coffee. And someone be so good as to replicate some of those sausage rolls. That is,' she glanced over at her other half, 'if Ron has left us any.'
'There's a kitchen just through there,' said Neville. 'That's where we got most of the stuff. I'll come and help.'
'Me, too,' announced Draco.
'What?' cried Hermione. 'You've never been inside a kitchen in all your life.'
'I'm curious,' he declared smoothly. 'I want to see what's in there.'
'Well, just stay out of the way and don't touch anything,' warned Hermione.
'Why did you really come with us?' asked Neville as they traversed the short corridor.
'I needed to stretch my legs,' replied Draco.
'Did you take your pain potion?' Hermione wanted to know.
Draco sighed. 'Yes. For all the good it did.'
The corridor opened into a large kitchen with gleaming stainless-steel benchtops and ovens, along with an enormous walk-in pantry.
'Oh! A microwave,' squeaked Hermione in sheer delight. 'My parents had one of those. I think I still remember how to work it.'
'And what, pray tell, is a micro wave?' snorted Draco. He had been staring casually around and had stopped to examine a curious-looking object with a lever on the top, a few buttons and a nozzle beneath.
'It's a type of oven which uses tiny little radio waves to cook things really quickly,' explained Hermione absently.
'Radio waves!' ejaculated Draco. 'Like those … those nuclear things you told us about?'
'Not exactly,' replied Hermione, rummaging in a nearby freezer. 'I wonder what I can find in here.'
But Draco wasn't listening. 'Are these muggles mad? Radiation waves in their food! Small wonder the idiots haven't killed themselves. I'm not eating anything cooked in that infernal machine.'
'Couldn't find any coffee,' called Neville, emerging from the pantry with several long, slim boxes in his hands. 'only these things. It says they're Nespresso Coffee Pods.'
He laid them on a gleaming benchtop and pried open one of the boxes with a finger, revealing a series of small, metal cylinders.
'What the hell are they supposed to be?' asked Draco. He peered suspiciously at the box. 'I don't see any coffee. If I'm not very much mistaken, these are aluminium. I may be old and getting decrepit, but as far as I am aware, aluminium is nothing which should be imbibed.'
'Maybe the coffee is inside,' suggested Neville, opening another box and tipping the cylinders into his hand. 'Some sort of knife would do the trick. Then we'll see what these things are really made of.'
He looked quickly around the room and spying a knife rack, removed a small paring knife and proceeded to breach the sealed pod. 'This is harder than it looks,' he commented as he poked ineffectually into the foil cap with the knife tip.
'Give me that,' demanded Draco. 'I'll find out what's in there if … it's … the … last …' He broke off as the knife tip broke through the foil, slipped in his uncertain grip and slashed him across the thumb.
'Ouch! Blasted thing!' Draco whipped out his wand and proceeded to repair the damage and the mess. 'Thank Merlin my reflexes still function — better than my hands,' he said ruefully.
Neville sighed. 'Getting old is no job for the fainthearted, is it.'
Draco nodded and picked up the mangled remains of the coffee pod. 'What's this stuff,' he cried disgustedly. Inside the pod was a small heap of finely-ground coffee. 'Look at this.' He handed the pod to Neville. 'How many of those would you need to make a decent cup of coffee, eh? There's more metal here than coffee! I repeat, these people are mad.'
'Does anyone feel like helping me?' called a voice from the depths of a deep freeze. 'Or are you too much in love with those coffee pods.'
Both men abandoned the pods and traipsed over to Hermione. They found her seated on her walker, trying vainly to reach into the back of the freezer.
'By Merlin, Mione! You're frozen,' said a horrified Neville. 'come out of there and I'll get whatever you want.'
She backed away from the door and sat, shivering, while Draco tried ineffectually to rub her arms warm with his gnarled hands. This failing miserably, he produced his wand and cast a warming charm.
'Why didn't you sing out, silly girl?' he scolded.
'You were b — busy,' she replied, goosebumps replacing the ice on her thin arms.
'Wow! Chocolate eclairs,' cried Neville. 'The Prof is going to love us.'
'Not if you don't get back within this lifetime,' floated Snape's voice from the kitchen doorway. 'People could perish while waiting for you three.' He rolled slowly into the kitchen. 'I do not smell coffee,' he announced. 'What have you been up to?'
'I wouldn't come any further, Uncle Severus,' admonished Draco. 'This place is a nightmare. They have machines for cooking food with radiation, and they drink their coffee with aluminium in it.'
'Don't be ridiculous,' scoffed Snape as he made his way further into the room, eventually butting up against the benchtop Neville and Draco had left. With tentative hand, he explored the surface for a bit and picked up the mangled pod.
'Ouch. Who left this here?' Snape brought the thing to his face and sniffed. 'There's coffee in this thing,' he cried triumphantly.
Hermione worked her way over to him and examined the scattered coffee pods. 'Yes, Prof dear. But we don't know how to get the coffee out.'
'I think I can help you there,' said Seamus, coming up behind them. 'They've got this machine here and I think (if it's the kind of thing my cousin Mary was writing me about),' he examined it carefully, removed the water tank and flourished it. 'You fill this with water, and you put one of these things in the top and push a button. Then coffee comes out of it. Marvellous, isn't it? Look, someone find me a cup and I'll show you.' He strode over to the tap, filled the tank and brought it back to the machine where Hermione had a cup waiting.
'I managed to get a pod in there,' said Hermione with a smile. 'You just lift this lever, and it clicks right in.'
Seamus placed the cup under the nozzle, examined the buttons and pushed one. Nothing happened, except that a light began flashing on the top of the machine.
'I think it's warming itself up,' he said uncertainly. 'When it stops flashing it'll be ready to use.'
'I wouldn't drink anything which came out of that contraption if I were you,' warned Draco, his arms full of packages which he dumped onto a waiting stainless steel trolley. 'It'll have aluminium and Merlin knows what else in it.'
'At this point, I do not care,' sighed Snape.
Seamus pushed a button and the machine whirred to life with a noise like a very low-powered motor mower, and the smell of coffee began to fill the room. Everyone except Draco cheered, even Snape. As soon as the sound ceased, he reached out for the cup.
'Careful, Prof,' warned Hermione. 'It'll be hot.'
'It had better be,' growled Snape as his hands came around it. Everyone laughed, and then waited with bated breath while the ancient wizard lifted it towards his face, nostrils flaring. He paused only a moment before tasting the contents.
'Adequate,' he pronounced as a sigh issued from the collective.
'What took you all so long?' whined James as they filed back in, the laden trolley following behind like a faithful dog.
'We were waylaid by a machine for making coffee,' announced Draco. 'Do you know, they have a machine in there that puts actual radiation …'
'Shut up, Draco,' chorused Hermione, Neville and Snape.