One day, as I pondered the confusion that is a HP/PotO crossover, I was struck with ridiculous inspiration. Someone should prevent me from writing when my inspiration is ridiculous. Anyway, it was a fun write. It ends somewhat abruptly, but I ran out of patience. There are numerous references to because I adore that website and all that is on it. Kudos to Neil Cicierega. And I think he looks like Fred Weasley. Not George, Fred. Anyway, enjoy.
Severus of Hogwarts
by Robin Cabe
Severus scowled at the students flocking into the great hall. They jostled one another, laughing and joking. Carefree. It was ridiculous. One would think that Dumbledore was offering galleons to every student that came to watch the silly performance.
It was that Know-It-All Granger's fault, bringing her muggle ideas into the school. Dumbledore and Minerva would do anything for their little pet student, and so here they all were. Granger had scrounged up some students that had notable skills, something which Severus seriously doubted was possible, and put together Hogwarts' first talent show. He didn't actually think that much talent would be seen on the stage that had been magicked into the hall, especially when he found out that Longbottom was to perform something.
The hall buzzed with senseless chatter, making Severus's head spin as he crept around the edge of the seats to a spot in the shadows. Minerva and Dumbledore mounted the stage to make an introduction. The crowd of students broke into a rapturous applause, causing a sniff of indignation form the greasy haired professor.
"Welcome! Welcome, everyone. I am pleased to announce the start of the First Annual Hogwarts Talent Show," the applause died down so that the audience could listen to their revered headmaster. "Before we begin, I must thank our own Head Girl, Hermione Granger, for organizing this project. I would ask her to come out to the stage to accept our gratitude, but I expect she is busy getting ready herself and is listening to everything I am saying from behind the curtain. So, thank you, Miss Granger." The audience once again broke into brief applause. "And now for a few words that have never yet failed to bring me happiness: Flibbity, Niffy-naffy, Squicker, and Ginger ale." Severus could no longer repress a roll of the eyes. "And now, let us begin!"
Minerva and Albus separated, Albus to the audience, and Minerva backstage to keep the participants in line. In short order, the curtains opened upon professor Flitwick, who apparently had mastered the cello at some point in his life. The students clapped politely as he bowed and left. Next came the Creevy brothers, joined by a number of third years, who had put together an Irish folk dance to a song about the giant squid in the lake. Ginny Weasley and Harry Potter were very well received, to Severus's dismay, with their series of tricks performed on broomstick.
"Oh, bravo!" called out professor Vector as they came out of a synchronized roll. Harry stood on his broom and flew in circles, Ginny matched him.
"I can't see this ending well," professor Trelawny muttered.
"Good, then I don't need to worry," Severus responded acridly. He wished he could rely on Trelawny's predictions, but she didn't have a high accuracy rate. He was delighted to find that she was successful in her prediction today, however, as Harry made a tragic mistake that caused him to fall off his broom and was only caught by Ginny by chance, though in a manner that looked quite uncomfortable, and Harry left the stage bandy-legged.
The next act was Granger herself. The curtains opened, Granger standing in the middle of the stage wearing a sparkly blue gown. Minerva sat at a piano, Neville held a violin, Flitwick was back, and even Trevor sat, large and green, on a stool. Severus wondered what on earth this act would be. They all waited for a moment while Hermione took deep breaths. Severus wondered if she was going to compete against Trevor to see which could hold their breath for the longest. He wouldn't have minded this, because whenever Hermione breathed in, her breasts popped quite elegantly out of the low neck of her dress, and he found that he quite enjoyed simply watching her there. Suddenly, Minerva took off on some notes and Hermione began to sing.
She didn't just sing, she enchanted. Not the way wizards enchant, but the way someone with true talent enchants. She sang. Hermione Granger sang, and she sang with the voice of an angel.
"We never said our love was rational
Or normal in the sense of word,
But of love with perfect stories,
Those tales are unheard."
Severus didn't even realize that he was applauding. He wasn't only applauding, but he felt a song coming on:
"Many years,
It has been many years,
How young and repugnant she was.
She may not be a beauty,
But that doesn't matter to me."
He jolted out of his monologue and turned to leave the hall. He didn't even stop to watch Padma and Parvati Patil eat a live chicken as he ran around to the dressing rooms backstage.
He got around to the area Dumbledore had arranged for the participants when he realized that Hermione would likely laugh at him for rushing to congratulate her. After all, he was supposed to be the mysterious and dark potions master, head of Slytherin, and overall dungeon bat. What would she say if he suddenly turned up and started fawning over her? She would think he had become as fruity as Ron-
"Hello Professor. I didn't think you were in the show," Hermione smiled formally.
"I, um, no. You sang very well," he cleared his throat and turned as swishily as he could, although he felt a definite meltiness that had replaced his usual swish.
"Thank you, Professor."
Severus had just spotted Potter whimpering in a corner, holding his groin while Ginny patted his hair and whispered, "there, there." Severus broke into a smirk and his eyes watered with joy.
"Why, Professor Snape! I didn't know you cared so much! Are you crying?"
"What?" he wiped a tear of joy from his eye as Hermione hugged him suddenly.
"I never knew you cared so much about music. That's sweet," And she hurried off to change from her beautiful dress.
That was weird.
"It was more than weird, because then he started crying! I couldn't believe it. I never knew professor Snape cared so much about music," Hermione recounted to Harry, Ginny, and Minerva McGonagal.
Minerva shrugged and Harry scoffed. Ginny just hung onto Harry's arm, her eyes glassed over happily. Ron hadn't reappeared since his Dead fish and Frisbee act had been booed off stage.
"I suppose we don't really know very much about Severus. He keeps to himself," Minerva sighed. "It's a wonder he has any social niceties at all."
"That's true. Well, come on Ginry, I'm exhausted. Let's go up to the common room."
Harry, who clutched an ice pack with his free arm, attempted to loosen Ginny a bit as they walked toward Griffindor tower. "Why do you keep calling us that?"
"What, Ginry? Well, I figured you two needed a new name now you're always together like that, like Bennifer and Jate/Skate."
Ginry stared. "What?"
"Honestly, Harry, just because you're a part of the wizarding world doesn't mean you should ignore muggle celebrities. Anyway, I tried to come up with some better ones, but your names don't really fit together all that well. I considered Weasler, like Weasley-Potter, but that sounded fishy. And then I thought of Hanny, but that sounds like a handkerchief. Or a nanny, which is sissy. So then I came up with- Oh!" she stopped suddenly.
"Oh? What does 'oh' stand for?"
"Nothing, only I think I've left my costume back in the changing rooms. You go on ahead, Ginry, I'll catch up with you later." She ran back down the halls and into the changing rooms. No one was around, and most of the lights were off. She crept into the girls changing area and looked about in the dim light. A mysterious wind blew down the corridors and snuffed out the remaining torches, leaving Hermione in total darkness.
Hermione fumbled around in her robes for her wand, when suddenly she felt a pair of eyes watching her. A voice came out of the darkness, reverberating around the large room.
"Hello," it said, seeming to come from all directions.
"Erm, hi," Hermione looked for the source of the voice, but it was nowhere to be found. "I just came back to get my dress. I left it in here."
The voice coughed a little. "You should put that on."
"Put what on?"
"That. Over there." The voice sounded impatient.
"I still don't know where."
"I'm pointing right at it!"
"But I can't see you. Where are you? And who are you?"
"Oh. Erm, well, it's on that chair up to your right, no, you're other right."
"That's my left," Hermione picked up the clothing. "What is this?" A very sheer white thing that looked complicated to wear hung limply from one hand. She picked up the other item: a sequined white corset.
"Umm, well, it's sortof a nightgown," came the voice again. It sounded embarrassed.
"Why would I wear a corset to bed?" Hermione asked sensibly.
"I don't know. But will you put it on?"
Hermione sighed. He was hopeless. "No, because I'm not wearing it to bed and you'd watch me."
"I could cover my eyes while you undress," he suggested feebly, voice still echoing around the room.
"No. I couldn't tell if you were lying. Where are you?"
"Oh good, I came up with a plan in case you asked that," he cleared his throat. "Sorry, I've had a bit of a head cold.
"Flattering child you shall know me-" he began, singing.
"I think you sound the same age as me. We're hardly children-"
"See why in shadows I hide
Look at your face in the mirror,
I am there inside!"
Hermione rolled her eyes and stood at the mirror. All she could see was her reflection. She stared for a while longer. "Um, I don't see anything but myself."
"You don't? Bugger, I guess it's not working. Anyway, um, one mo-" came the voice. It sounded as though it had moved behind the mirror now and was fiddling with something. "There!" he shouted as a screeching metallic sound echoed through the room. The mirror slid open like a door, and there, standing behind it, was a tall man in dark robes with a bag over his head. She was somewhat impressed by the dark robes, thinking it was romantic, until she realized that they were the school robes that everyone wore. In fact, they were somewhat battered in her opinion.
"I am your angel of music,
Come to me, angel of music"
he said, though it was now clearly muffled by his paper sack.
"Angel of music?" Hermione was now definitely confused. And Hermione doesn't like to be confused.
"Yeah. I uh, thought it sounded cool. That's okay, come on," he held out his gloved hand, and Hermione walked past him into the passageway, staring around at the damp walls.
"Is this some sort of secret passage? I've never seen it on the Marauder's Map. It's rather deteriorated, don't you think? It could do with some light," she flicked her wand and enchanted the stones to look like bright and sunny windows, lighting the corridor cheerfully.
"Well, I wanted to charm a bunch of mannequin arms gold and then give them candles to hold all along here, but I didn't have time. Sorry," he added, a little sheepishly.
"That's okay. Lead the way, I don't know where we're going."
"Oh, it's just down there," he pointed. About ten meters away was a big door. They walked down to it and stepped through into a large, cavernous, dark room that was swimming in water. It smelled a little funny, the way ponds tend to smell, and across the big pool of water was what looked like an untidy bedroom and study combined. There was an old fashioned piano that would play by itself when wound, and a number of quiddich posters along the walls. It made her think of Harry and Ron.
The bagged man ushered her onto an old row boat that was leaking a bit and started to row her across with some difficulty. He didn't seem to like rowing very much. Hermione waved her wand again and the boat sped across under it's own power.
"Oh yeah, forgot that charm," the voice replied. He hopped out and turned to offer her his hand, but she was already out and staring around at the place.
"Do you live here?"
He cleared his throat again,
"I have brought you,
To the seat of sweet music's throne-"
"What on earth is that!" Hermione yelled, spotting a large music box with the ugliest monkey she had ever seen sitting atop it. She thought at first that it was made of wood, but then it suddenly shrieked and hopped up and down, then lunged at the bagged man. "Good lord, you keep that thing as a pet!"
He grunted as he fought it off, then slammed it inside the music box. "Yeah. I mean, how cool is that to know that every evening when I come home, I get to do battle with a monkey?"
"No, really, that is scary. Why do you want a monkey for a pet? I mean, they do the most disgusting things, not to mention that they are terrifying-"
"You're just like them! Everyone always tries to tell me that I don't want a monkey. Well I do! So stop it!" he made a snuffling noise that sounded like he was crying.
"I'm sorry, I just," she shuddered, "don't like monkeys."
"That's okay. Well, I think that the monkey pretty much ruined the song, so let's move on. I think that you are beautiful, and you sing really well, and we should get married."
"What?" Hermione thought it was some kind of joke, but he led her excitedly (or she thought he was excited; his bag seemed to almost lift with joy) over to a mannequin that looked exactly like her. And it was wearing a polyester wedding gown. "No, nono, I'm not getting married. I'm not marrying you. I don't even know who you are," she stepped toward him, reaching for the bag.
He jerked about nervously, then shouted "Plan B!" and chloroformed her swiftly. Hermione blacked out before her knees hit the ground. Her last thought was that he should have used "stupefy."
By now, word had gotten round to Severus that he was passionate about music, so he was hurrying off to beat off the gossip that would surely ruin his reputation as the cold-hearted head of Slytherin. He is supposed to be the most evil character at Hogwarts, not blown over by a song. Although it had been rather good. And Hermione had looked rather pretty when not weighed down by all those robes.
On his way down to the great hall to locate Minerva the next morning, he ran into the very cause of his tears: a Potter in pain. This morning, however, Potter did not look pained, though he still walked a little bandy legged, but he did appear worried. Ginny was clutching his arm, a bit of a frown across her face.
"Well, well. If it isn't the Famous Falling Ginry. I must say that I rather approved of your act. I haven't smiled so much in years. Are you afraid it will ruin your reputation as Perfect Potter?"
"No, sir. It's-" Harry trailed off and looked to his other half.
"We haven't seen Hermione. She went back down to the dressing rooms last night and she never came up to bed. And then this morning she wasn't in the great hall for breakfast."
Snape smirked, though his heart gave a little jolt at this news. "Probably her ego inflated a little too much and she floated off to impart her knowledge on some other unsuspecting school." This information did not seem too shocking to the Ginry, so they sighed and walked away.
Severus hurried down to the hall and looked around. Sure enough, no bushy-haired know-it-all's were present. He found Minerva and tried to ask about Hermione. He wasn't very successful at starting this conversation, as he was nervous for her.
"So. Any students missing today?" he shuffled his feet a bit and was grateful that Minerva was not a legillimens.
"Funny you should ask that as Hermione hasn't turned up since last night. But I did get a rather intriguing note from someone by the name of HG. I thought it might be Hermione Granger, but it had in parentheses Hogwarts Ghost. Needless to say, I have had a chat with Nicholas and the Bloody Baron, but neither have any knowledge about HG or Hermione."
A flutter of white caught the corner of Severus's eye and he looked up, expecting to find the owls with the daily mail. While it wasn't an owl, a note did flutter down to land in the cereal. It's envelope bore the name Dungeon Bat, so Severus reluctantly opened the letter and it sang:
"Dear Snapey, You're a greasy weasel.
I hate you very very much.
I have trouble with rhymes,
But Hermione's mine.
Otherwise, I hate hate hate hate
hate hate hate hate
hate hate hate hate
Hate hate hate hate you."
"Good heavens, Severus!" Minerva looked scandalized at the enchanted opera letter. "Who sent you that note?"
"HG."
"It's probably Peeves trying to get attention, as always. You'd best ignore it."
"I'm not ignoring it now. It's personal. He called me a greasy weasel."
"True, but all the same it is a shame that Hogwarts Ghost will not appear."
"Your assonance offends me. Be quiet," Severus snapped. Minerva rolled her eyes and mimicked him under her breath. All in all, it was quite childish of her, but it made her feel as though she had the last word, and that was much better.
Severus rose from his seat and strode from the room with a swish of his robes. Ginry watched him push past them and out of the hall.
Ginny pouted. "Why is he so rude all the time?"
Harry shrugged, or tried to shrug, but Ginny had crawled up his arm and was hanging on for dear life.
Hermione woke with a start. Someone was pounding on the keys to a piano with such disjoined force that she thought at first that the monkey had escaped. Monkey? She sat up abruptly and remembered that she had been chloroformed-and-not-petrified. She looked across the room and was inspired to sing aloud her inner monologue:
"I remember it was damp,
Rather damp and smelled of moldy old brown pond.
There weren't candles anywhere,
And on the walls there were quiddich posters
And on the box there was a monkey…"
She then noticed not a monkey, but a tall man in shabby black robes with a bag over his head.
"Who was that man in the baggie?
Who's is that face in the bag?"
She crept up behind him, but he turned his bagged head abruptly and jumped up, brandishing chloroform. Since her knees were already aching form her fall, she decided not to risk it again.
"Did my serenade wake you, my sweet?"
"Serenade?" she asked, and his bag seemed to fall with a little sadness. "Oh, um, yes. It was lovely," and he seemed to brighten a bit. The bag crinkled merrily.
"Well, I realized that I only have enough food down here for myself, so I'm going to have to take you back up to the castle."
"That's fine. I can let myself out," Hermione walked toward the boat.
"No! You might get lost. It is a difficult and perilous journey that cannot be braved by a lady such as yourself." Hermione was somewhat offended by this remark, but chose to let it slide since the bagged man seemed rather touchy. She obediently climbed back into the leaky boat and charmed it across the lake. The she walked down the hallway and back out the sliding mirror.
"Wait, what should I call you in case I see you again?"
The man thought for a bit. "How about Phantom of Hogwarts? I've been going by 'Hogwarts Ghost,' but I'm a little tired of it now."
"Alright, sounds good. Bye bye!" Hermione hurried off, a little weirded out by the Phantom of Hogwarts.
Filch was sneaking around the halls with Mrs. Norris when Severus ran into him. He had been terrifying some students with a song:
"Like slimy snot are his ten arms,
A great black beak serves as the mouth that lets him chew.
You must be always well behaved
Or to him I will feed you!"
Minerva McGonagal took him by surprise:
"Those who speak of what they want
Find to late that it will not come to pass.
Argus Filch, you hold your tongue
Or I will kick you in the arse."
Snape grinned to himself as he strode past the scene. Mrs. Norris was hissing at McGonagal, who seemed quite proud of her language. He hurried down the halls, looking as swishy as possible, until something large and bushy shot past him in the opposite direction. "Miss Granger?"
The rapidly moving thing stopped and turned around. Hermione grinned sheepishly. "Yes, Professor Snape?"
"Where have you been? The whole castle has been worried about you."
"Even you, Professor?" she asked shyly.
He thought about lying, he knew she wasn't a legillimens, but his reddening face betrayed his thoughts, "Yes. I wouldn't want the class know-it-all to go missing; Mr. Longbottom might explode something."
"But he's not in your NEWT class," she said, puzzled.
"That wouldn't stop him." Hermione looked a little saddened when he said this, which confused him. Severus Snape does not like to be confused. "You didn't answer my question. Where have you been?" A horrible thought crossed his mind, "You weren't having a frisky evening on the astronomy tower, were you?"
"No! I was just, well, sort of kidnapped. By this Phantom of Hogwarts. Or that's what he calls himself, anyway. He's a real person, and he wears a bag over his head. DO you know about him?"
"He sent me a hate letter," Snape clenched his fist around the note in his pocket. "He called me a greasy weasel."
"That's awful! Why would he call you a weasel?" Snape eyed her cautiously. She didn't flinch. "And greasy? I wouldn't use either of those words to describe you."
She actually sounded genuine when she said it. He had never heard anything so kind toward him from a student, even a Slytherin.
Something spontaneous seized him. "How would you like to have tea with me?"
Hermione's face brightened, "I'd love to! When?"
"Two minutes."
"I can't be ready in two minutes! I haven't showered in days!"
"Erm, yes, well. How about at five then?" Snape felt his face redden. Two minutes. What had he been thinking? No man should ever pressure a woman to be ready to go in two minutes. It's not healthy.
"That sounds wonderful. Shall I meet you by the dungeons then?" You can bring the whips and chains.
"What?" Snape stared at her, shocked, then realized he had imagined that last sentence. He imagined what, now?
"Or if you would prefer, we can do it the old fashioned way." He didn't imagine that sentence. "You could pick me up around quarter to five." Oh.
"Alright. Wait for me by the portrait of Wimbly the Whale." He wasn't about to wait around for her at the portrait hole. What would he tell the Griffindors, that he was having a student over for tea? Why did this sound more and more like a date? Why was he having internal monologues and callbacks?
He turned and strode off toward the dungeons, which he would never think of the same way again.
Minerva and Albus were already busy decorating for the Gala Ball that they were having that night to commemorate the talent show. Professor Flitwick had charmed some confetti that fell like silver snow continuously over the stairs outside the great hall. The armor had been transfigured to a gold color and held candelabras all along the halls. Hermione was disconcertingly reminded of the Phantom of Hogwarts, but shook it off as jitters.
At four forty-five precisely, she stood next to the portrait of Wimbly the Whale, who was singing a little tune about prima donnas. About a minute later Snape strode down the hall, his robes billowing gently. She blushed slightly. She always seemed to have a little crush on her younger male teachers, and Snape did fit the bill. He was tall and handsome in his own way. His hair was dark and shiny, and he seemed fit. He always looked very serious, but she had seen something happy the other night after he heard her sing. It had flattered her to no end that Professor Snape had not only liked her singing, but had been moved to tears.
Granted, it was random that he had asked her to tea. A lot of random things had happened lately.
He led her to his personal quarters in the castle. She followed in slight awe: Awe of the situation, and awe of her swishy professor. Behind a large and thick wooden door lay a spacious living room with a connecting kitchen. On the stove was a simmering tea pot, and biscuits and nibbles sat on a tray with simple white teacups. A closed door off of the living room led to his bedroom, she assumed, and another door by the kitchen stood open to reveal a clean bathroom.
Snape offered her a seat with a wave of his hand, and she made herself comfortable. He went into the kitchen, shot a jet of light at the kettle, which caused it to whistle, then took it off and brought it over to the table. He brewed the tea in silence, then sat back and glanced at Hermione, who still sat in somewhat ridiculous awe.
Uh-oh, another song:
"I have brought you,
To drink tea and congratulate;
You're voice is a talent I truly admire
Though to tears I drew not but that Potter, you see, was in pain
In Pain.
Teatime draws near,
Gives us time to chatter.
Earl Grey brewing,
Is all that really matters
Quietly the kettle cries,
Steaming both of our eyes…
Severus paused to look again at Hermione, who sat in a state of wonder now.
Slowly, gently, tea reveals its colour,
Dress it, taste it, savor ev'ry flavour.
Drink up heartily,
Take a biscuit with your tea!
Drink a cup or maybe two or even three
Now, I say, it's time to have some tea.
"That- that was inspiring." Hermione took a big drink of tea and closed her eyes. Severus reached for the sugar a split second before she did so that her hand rested atop his. She didn't move. He looked at her, she looked at him, then she blushed and withdrew her hand. They took their tea quietly, discussing various books and even politics.
"I can never read anything by Dimitri Natsoulas. His work has no rhyme or reason, so it confuses me. I hate being confused." Hermione lifted her cup to her lips.
"So do I. Being confused is terrible."
"But sometimes one is pleasantly surprised when they are confused., like when watching quiddich. I never can understand what they are doing until just before they score or the bludger makes contact."
"I never did grasp quiddich, but I do enjoy watching it. Something I doubt I will ever understand is dancing."
Hermione laughed into her cup and hastily set it down. "I could help you, you know. I'm not too terrible at dancing. I took ballet for years before becoming a witch. It's rather fun when you understand it."
"I'll have to take your word for it."
"You could come to the ball tonight. It starts at nine. I didn't think I'd have anyone to dance with since I never found a date."
"You mean I should go? And dance with you?" Snape seemed shocked.
"Yes, I see no reason why not. I'd love to dance with you." Hermione sighed happily to herself when he smirked and nodded.
"Alright. Perhaps we should finish our tea then."
A few hours later, Hermione stood at the bottom of the steps outside the great hall wearing emerald green dress robes that flowed all about her. A large number of students had gathered there and were milling about with their dates.
"Wow, they really out-did themselves on the decorations," Snape muttered as bolts of fabric waved and confetti fluttered down.
"Yeah, Dumbledore really knows his stuff."
Then, something amazing happened: They all were taken up with song. And dance. They arranged themselves on the staircase and danced wildly around the floor as they sang.
"Dumbledore!
Every day a day of smiles.
Dumbledore.
Beard to boot, and some robes of pretty colours.
Dumbledore!
Pointy hats and magic wands,
Dumbledore.
Naked time is a time for happy dancing. (see drops, treacle tart,
Acid pops, Griffindor.
Divination is a fake
Learning it is a chore…"
And so it went. Hermione took Snape's arms and wrapped one around her waist and put the other in her hand. She showed him the steps, and soon they were whirling across the floor. He actually smiled and laughed a bit, showing Hermione the side of Snape that never showed in potions class or in the halls.
Not many people noticed Snape because he was acting like someone completely different. No longer his dark and proper self, few recognized him. The ones that did shrugged it off, thinking that they had imagined it. Ginry were revolving in a corner, unsure of what to do. They spotted Hermione and the potions professor whirling about and were surprised that she hadn't blown off to plague another school with knowledge.
"Maybe she came back," Ginny mused.
"I wonder if Snape lied to us. I bet he did. He always lies," Harry retorted vehemently.
Ginny shrugged. "Either way, she's back now. I wonder where she went."
Hermione was getting dizzy as Severus sped up the dance, actually lifting her off her feet and spinning her.
"I've never had such a good time at Hogwarts before," he said into her ear as she fell in toward him. She looked up at his face, a changed face, it struck her: She didn't just have a crush on her teacher, but he had one on her. She closed her eyes and leaned in toward him, when the room suddenly fell quiet. She broke away, afraid that they had been spotted, but turned to see a tall bagged figure standing at the top of the stairs. She gasped and shrunk backward into Severus. He put a protective arm around her waist.
"Why so silent, friendly peers?
Haven't you ever seen a man in a bag?
I have lived under the school."
The Phantom paused, unsure how to phrase what he wanted to say. Most of the students were just confused why the student on the stairs was wearing a bag over his face. And they didn't like to be confused. Someone whispered that maybe he should see madam Pomfrey.
"I have written you a play.
Here I bring the final script:
Trouble at Hogwarts!
I advise you to comply, my instructions should be cool.
Remember, there are worse things than a smelly moldy pool.
Just then, The Phantom noticed Hermione standing with Snape. He stood for a moment, seemingly paralyzed, then: "Eww! Do you realize that he is twice your age?" He appeared to shudder, then whirled around and ran up to a spot in the middle of the landing. He did a fancy swirl with his cape, then smoke and flames appeared around him. Everyone in the great hall "ooh"d and "aah"d, but then the smoke cleared and he was still standing there, stomping at the spot on the ground. His bag looked a little singed. "Damnit, work!" he grunted. Suddenly the trap door opened and he fell down the hole. Snape swished up the stairs and peered down the hole. "I'm okay!" the Phantom called back.
Dumbledore read the script about Hogwarts, chuckling at the dance scene. He thought it might be fun to put on a play, so he rounded up a cast and started rehearsal. Hermione was instructed in the letter to play the role of herself, and she agreed solely because Dumbledore asked her nicely.
Snape didn't have a good feeling about the play, or rather, he didn't like that Potter had been given the other lead role of Harry Potter. Neville had been cast as Ron. Snape grudgingly watched Potter and Hermione rehearse day after day for two whole days, and then it was time for performance. The whole school, including the ghosts, turned up to watch the show. Dumbledore was grinning and humming a happy song to himself up until the curtain opened.
Harry walked onstage: "My name is Harry Potter and I love Hogwarts!"
Neville sauntered up next to him: "I'm Ron, and I love school!"
Hermione walked in and said: "I love learning."
Suddenly, Dumbledore trotted onstage. No one had realized he had gone from the audience, but there he was! It turned out he had a cameo role. "I have some bad news, children."
"Oh no!" They chorused.
"The Dark Lord Voldemort is going to take over the school."
"What shall we do?" said Hermione, holding a wrist to her brow in wondrous melodramatic form.
"I don't know. Bye!" and so Dumbledore left the stage, to tumultuous applause, no less.
Voldemort, who was played by Malfoy, strode onstage. "I am Voldemort."
Neville (Ron) wailed and ran offstage. Harry flew offstage. Hermione pointed and said: "Oh look! It's the power of love!" and Malfoy (Voldemort) ran away crying. Soon, the character of Ron re-entered. But it was not played by Neville. It was the Phantom. "I feel a song coming on," Hermione announced. The Phantom began to sing:
"You have come here
In pursuit of your deepest confusion,
In pursuit of that question that-
"Who the hell are you?" Hermione yelled, charging over to The Phantom and ripping off his bag. It was Ron. "Ronald Weasley, you are being a creep!" The whole audience gasped. Ron, in a fit of irritation at having his identity revealed, grabbed Hermione and together they fell down another trap door.
All hell broke loose, not because of this new discovery, but because Dumbledore had just decided to have "Naked Time". Snape hurried to the trap door and jumped down it, following the two.
Ron dragged Hermione along. She followed, though with much irritation. "I could sing some dramatic song right now, but I am just too angry. Why would you take off my bag?"
"I was curious. I mean, I hadn't seen you for nearly four days and this creep has been stalking me. What was I supposed to do? I figured it was you, but I had to be sure."
"But that was mean. Can we get married now?"
"No, we cannot get married. I'm only seventeen! I don't want to get married, least of all to you, Ronald. You have been really rude to me this past week."
Snape appeared in the underground lair. "Give me Hermione, Mr. Weasley, or I will have to dock one hundred points from Gryffindor."
"One hundred? You'd have to take one thousand to make me give up Hermione."
"Okay, I'll take one thousand points from Gryffindor."
Ron looked upset, "Oh come on, that's not fair!"
"It's perfectly fair."
He looked at Hermione in shock, "How can you like that greasy git?"
Hermione rolled her eyes, "I don't like him, I love him." And with that, she dashed over to Severus and snogged him silly.
Ron, entirely grossed out by this, ran off to find Ginry. No one was sure what exactly happened to him, but Ginry said that he muttered something about getting jumped by a naked Dumbledore and having nine sickles and a dung bomb stolen from his pockets, so in effect Ginry knew exactly what happened. Ron was jumped by his naked headmaster.
Hermione and Snape were married the following September, as soon as Hermione turned eighteen (Ron reminded her that she said she didn't want to marry while she was seventeen, so she waited only to humor him). They never had any children, Snape shuddered at the thought and Hermione rubbed her ovaries pensively whenever the topic arose. This should not imply, however, that the two did not have an extremely blissful married life filled with random outbursts of song interrupted occasionally by a streaking Dumbledore.
Fin.
I like reviews. Let me know if you have awesome ideas for another scene. I might just add it! Tah tah.