9. Kindred Spirits
"Kindred spirits are not so scarce as I used to think."
~ L.M. Montgomery
Harry woke up to Snape's hissing right into his ear.
"Potter! Potter, do you hear me?"
Rising on his elbow sleepily, he wanted to answer, but Snape quickly clamped his hand over Harry's mouth.
"I am going to the Weasley wedding. If you are sensible enough to avoid deadly danger this time, don't you dare to show up there. Believe me, I will personally guarantee it will be quite unpleasant otherwise. And, most importantly, do keep your idiotic godfather out of trouble. Tie him up to the bed if needed, do you understand?"
Harry shook his head up and down energetically. He most certainly did not want to lose Sirius again. Snape moved his hand away, nodded his farewell silently and Disapparated.
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The sunset was nearing, but Snape still had not returned. Dumbledore also had not come. That day Harry quarrelled with Draco four times (two of them after having been thoroughly trashed in chess), stoically peeled a bucket of potatoes for dinner (somebody had to do it, after all, and he was not yet ready to start his homework, thank you very much!) and had a bit of a nap listening half-heartedly to Sirius and Lucius bickering. They spent the day lazily discussing who had it worse, Sirius with his mother or Lucius with his mother-in-law. In the end, Narcissa lost her patience and put a stop to the so-called discussion.
At last, at eight o'clock in the evening, a small pile of people Apparated to the clearing with a loud 'pop'. The pile consisted of one dishevelled Potions master, one Hermione Granger who clutched hold of him as if he was a pillar in the storm, and one Ron Weasley, whom Snape dragged by the ear. As soon as Snape's feet touched the grass, he loosed his hold on Ron's ear and began trying to free himself from Hermione's grasp.
"Miss Granger, do stop pawing me immediately! Unhand me now!"
Hermione obeyed him, even if not immediately. Snape removed his Death Eater mask and mopped his brow. He looked exhausted. Ron still sat in the grass perplexed, cupping his ear with a hurt expression on his face.
"Where is Albus?" the Potions master asked. "I have news for him."
"He is not here yet, but he can come flying every moment now," Harry answered readily. He was happy to see his friends at last and, surprisingly, glad to see Snape back, safe and almost unscathed. "Oh, Professor, who gave you that bump on your forehead? Are you all right?"
"I will live," Snape answered wryly. "Miss Granger prefers treating guests with champagne in a very untraditional manner."
"Did she hit you with the bottle?" realised Harry.
"I did not know!" Hermione exclaimed, wringing her hands. She looked upset and angry at the same time. "You wore the mask, sir! And I don't appreciate it when some masked... people grab me and start interrogating! How could I know that you..." She sniffed, and Ron glared at the Potions master.
"Ah, so you molest students now," Sirius smirked, coming up to them.
Seeing him, Hermione squeaked in dismay, clamped her hand over her mouth and moved back a bit with her eyes wide.
"Oh Merlin!"
"It's Sirius!" Harry said unnecessarily, a bit lost for a moment.
"If you don't get out of my sight right now, Black, I won't be responsible for my actions," Snape said tiredly. Sirius smirked and tried to hide behind Harry's back. Snape sighed. "Potter, please take pains to explain the situation to your friends. Is there anything comestible in this place? The Weasleys are not quite prone to serve anything to Death Eaters, even at weddings."
Harry did not know what 'comestible' was, but the professor was clearly hungry.
"Narcissa is boiling the potatoes," he grinned. "And there must be some bacon left if Lucius has not eaten it all."
"Perfect. All right, go entertain your friends," Snape waved them off and started to go to the campfire, then stopped again. "Bear in mind, however: I am not digging out any more huts. That's your problem now."
With that, he left.
Still staring at the Potions master's back, Ron stood up slowly. Then he looked around, examining the clearing. On the rope between two trees some washed clothes were waving in the light breeze — Draco's green socks and Harry's red ones with golden snitches, a couple of spare Death Eater robes and Sirius's Grim T-shirt. Snape's mask was hanging from a peg near his hut's door. Draco was sitting under a big pine-tree, leaning his back against the trunk, and threw pinecones at Sirius and Harry, but missed every time. Lucius, lying in the shade of Narcissa's and his hut, was doing a crossword puzzle in the yesterday's copy of The Prophet.
"And we must live here now?" Ron asked at last with an obvious shudder.
"If you can believe such a thing," Lucius drawled from behind his paper, "it is the same dreadful thought that I had myself six weeks ago. You will get used to it, however. Hey, Black, do you know what 'the first commercial photography' is named? By the way, what on earth is the 'photo' part doing in that word? Is it some sort of writing with light? Like waving a wand while doing Lumos?"
"Haven't the slightest idea," Sirius answered. Bending down, he picked up a pinecone and threw it at Draco, striking him right at his forehead.
"How many letters?" Hermione asked suddenly.
"Thirteen." Lucius put down his paper and looked at her with some interest. "Do you know what that could be, Ms. Granger?"
"Does 'daguerreotype' fit?"
"Perfectly!" Delighted, Lucius got his quill from behind his ear and put the letters into right cells. "So what is this 'photography' thing? And does this," he consulted the paper to be sure, "this 'daguerreotype' have something to do with dagues?"
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Cutting bread for dinner, Harry still heard Hermione discussing excitedly with Lucius something named camera obscura, Leonardo da Vinci and Wizarding vs. Muggle claim on Aristotle's genius.
