While the Shrieking Shack was known amongst the living as the most haunted building in Britain, the dead knew that the honour actually belonged to Caer Brech, a crumbling keep in southern Wales. Dozens of famous and influential ghosts called it home- so many, in fact, that the castle had become something of a centre for international post-mortem culture and learning. At any given time, dozens of visiting and indigenous ghosts could be found gliding through the corridors, going about their business and attempting to scare one another.
When the Ministry of Magic contacted the Marquess of Bute's shade about housing a temporary school in the castle, Caer Brech's denizens were delighted at the prospect of having some "live ones" upon which to practise their haunting. However, the ghosts soon realised that they had a great deal to learn from Hermione Granger, who, by a margin of one vote, narrowly missed being made an honorary ghost due to her uncanny ability to send the faculty running for the hills. Unbeknownst to her, she had developed quite a following, particularly amongst inexperienced spectres, who occasionally followed her to take notes on her technique.
Currently, her unofficial admiration society were haunting the dank corridor outside Caer Brech's Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom and listening to the laughter that echoed merrily off the stone walls.
"Two teachers in one day!" exclaimed Harry in tones of wonder. "That's got to be some kind of record."
Hermione, cheeks pink with pleasure, waved him off. "Hush, Harry, we need to secure the corridor first!"
"I've got it," said Ron. "All right, Lady Arundel?"
A silvery woman's torso glided grandly through the wall, head wobbling alarmingly. "You shall hear my signal from the battlements if any of the damned Roundheads dare approach," she said fervently.
"Thanks as always, Lady A.," said Ron. "We'd be lost without you."
She gave a tragic sort of smile before disappearing through the wall.
"Now, to business," said Hermione. "I think we've nearly worn down Peasegood- he locked himself in the closet when I pretended to mishear and transfigured my vase into a flock of hens instead of a box of pens. How was I to know that an accident early in his career had given him a phobia of chickens?"
"Certainly not from reading Terrible Tragedies in Transfiguration," said Ron. "Which, by the way, I managed to return to Fred and George's collection before they noticed it was gone."
"Why aren't I surprised that those two keep a library of historical mishaps?" asked Susan Bones.
"Maybe because you know them?" said Harry. "Justin, do you have any news on Divination?"
"No, but it's an entirely different situation. Centaurs have centuries worth of wisdom and patience, and I think she knows what we're up to. And I simply can't say something really coarse to a teacher."
"Especially when the teacher is a well-endowed female centaur," said Hermione. "We'll research more tonight. I'm certain we can find a weak spot. Neville, what's new in Herbology?"
"Toadflax has backslid a bit," said Neville. "We can get him to twitch, but he doesn't shake in fury the way he did when you were around."
"Well, you'll be done with Fire Flowers by the end of the week, and then he'll have no excuse to keep me out of class," said Hermione philosophically. "In the meantime, you're still over-fertilising the Gassy Bladderwort?"
Neville grinned. "It'll be ready any day now, and we've all brushed up on our Bubble-Head Charms."
"And Aguamenti," added Hannah, "just in case the pods burst while we still have the Fire Flowers around."
"You've done wonderfully, all of you," Hermione beamed. "Anything else?"
"Leave Yellowback to me," said Harry. "It's almost too easy with the Defence teachers, especially the temporary ones."
"Well, mate, you're the only living dark wizard slayer," said Ron, philosophically. "It's no wonder you send them running for their-
Ron fell abruptly silent as the window shutters slammed shut and the torches sputtered out. All wands were instantly drawn, and instinctively the students drew together, each facing in a different direction.
"Lumos!" Susan met Harry's eye, and he nodded. They stood, listening.
A heart-rending wail echoed down the corridor.
"That was Lady Arundel," whispered Justin. "Whatever it is, it's close."
Hermione frowned at her surroundings and shivered at the frigid air that seemed to be emanating from under the door. "If it's not a Dementor, then it's somebody doing a really good impression of one."
"Reckon it's a Boggart?" asked Ron.
"We'd best be prepared for anything," said Harry.
"But it can't be anything really dangerous," protested Hermione. "Nobody but the Ministry and Ghost Councils know we're here, and-"
Hannah seized her arm. "Listen!"
Sure enough, they heard the sharp click of boots on the hallway flagstones growing louder and more distinct.
Neville spun towards the door and gripped his wand so tightly his knuckles were white. The others came to his side and faced the door.
The footsteps came to a stop outside the door, and Hermione held her breath.
Suddenly, the door swung open with a bang, and a dark figure appeared in the doorway. Simultaneous cries of "Expecto Patronum!" and "Ridikkulus!" rang out. Silvery creatures shot towards the menacing shape but circled only once before evaporating.
"Wait!" cried Hermione. "We need to-" Her voice stopped suddenly as the figure made a slashing movement with its hand, which, she noted, held a wand. She fell to the floor with a muffled cry of alarm.
"Hermione!" yelled Harry, rushing to his friend's side. In the twinkling of an eye, he found himself bound and unable to speak.
One by one, the N.E.W.T.s class found themselves bound, gagged, and lined up neatly against the wall. The entire operation had taken less than twenty seconds.
There was a loud snap, and the torches burst into flame, allowing the students to see their assailant.
There was a gasp of horror. Harry shouted angrily through his gag.
With a wave of his wand, Severus Snape banished the gag from Harry's mouth, allowing an impressive stream of vitriol to pour forth. He silenced him again.
"Language, Potter," said Snape softly, not bothering to hide the scornful twist of his lip. "You never did grasp the power of the spoken word. Nor, indeed, the power of the unspoken word."
He took several steps to where Ron lay. When given the opportunity, Ron shouted a number of crude but nonetheless effective directives. Hermione's eyebrows lifted in spite of herself.
"How gratifying that you learned one use for Bicorn horn in my class, Weasley. I confess that I'd thought it impossible for anything to penetrate that concrete cranium of yours. Naturally, you'll wish to quit while you're ahead?"
Another swish of the wand and Ron fell silent.
Snape took a step and stopped directly in front of Neville, who was visibly shaking. His smirk broadened. "Longbottom," he said in tones of relish. "Still the constitution of a drowned jellyfish, I see."
"Petrificus Totalus!" shouted Hermione, who had managed to nonverbally free herself from her bonds.
Snape lazily swatted her curse away, sent her wand flying across the room, and, to her horror, suspended her upside-down by one ankle in front of the rest of the class.
"Well, well, Miss Granger," he sneered, walking around her as she tried frantically to hold her skirts high enough to shield her knickers from view. "Who would have thought?"
Ron's face had turned purple from the effort of attempting to yell through the spell, though Snape's Silencing Charm held.
"Really, Weasley, one would think that with your girlfriend's privates on display you could come up with a better use for your mouth," remarked Snape, turning to Susan.
While Snape gleefully mocked her classmates in turn, Hermione was trying to approach the problem logically, even as her eyes filled with tears of fury and humiliation.
From her vantage point near the ceiling, Hermione saw that Harry had followed her lead and untied his ropes. He'd also managed to grab Susan's wand, which had fallen nearby. She gave a jerk of her head to indicate where her wand lay. He gave a small nod.
While Snape was disparaging Justin Finch-Fletchley's parentage- rather callous, Hermione thought, considering Death Eaters had killed Justin's father- Harry wordlessly summoned Hermione's wand and hovered it into her waiting hand.
Silently, she sent Snape's wand flying across the classroom. His head snapped about to see the source of his trouble, and his gaze settled on Harry, who glared back at him defiantly, wand pointed at Snape's face.
"Potter," he said, stepping towards him with a shark-like grin. "How I've longed for the day when you were no longer under the auspices of Hogwarts."
Before he could reach Harry, Hermione cast a nonverbal Libero and dropped on top of Snape.
He fell to the floor, striking the floor with a grunt. She wasted no time in pressing her wand beneath his chin.
"Don't move."
Neville had managed to free himself and the others, and they came to stand around their former Potions instructor, wands aimed at various parts of his anatomy. Snape, however, glared at the young witch above him.
"Attacking a teacher again, Granger?"
"You're no longer our teacher, Snape!" spat Justin.
"Wrong again, Finch-Fletchley. Now, Granger, if you do not remove yourself from my person post-haste, I'm afraid I shall be forced to fail you, and you will never be able to take your precious N.E.W.T.s."
Hermione stiffened.
"They'd never hire you to teach here!" snarled Harry.
"Use your brain, can't you, Potter?" hissed Snape. "Why would I be tolerating your presence if I hadn't been paid handsomely? And why would you be alive right now if my employer were anyone but the Wizarding Examinations Authority?"
Susan lowered her wand. "I don't know what possessed the Ministry to hire him, but I don't think he's here to kill us."
"And it makes sense that they'd want to send someone tougher than our last Defence teacher." Neville followed Susan's lead, looking no happier than Harry about the situation.
"I don't know about that," said Hermione lightly, not lessening her pressure on Snape's neck. "After all, it's been proved in a court of law that he's particularly vulnerable to the Imperius Cure. Why would they send someone weak to teach us?"
Snape let out an inarticulate roar, and Hermione and her classmates were thrown against the wall by a powerful wave of magic.
This time Snape did not need a Silencing Charm to quiet the class. He paced in front of them, sneering into their faces by turn. He stopped in front of Harry.
"Disappointing," he said in a low voice. "Mere months after the Dark Lord's demise, you have all fallen back into your usual complacent arrogance. Your responses were sloppy, conclusions faulty, and even when given the opportunity to speak, you would rather spit and curse than attempt to free yourselves. You even underestimated the danger presented by a seemingly unarmed wizard. You are pitifully unprepared for your N.E.W.T.s and even less ready for the dark and dangerous world that awaits you. The Dark Arts do not disappear when a single dark wizard dies, and those who followed him will find you, Potter. And given the warm welcome I've received, I shouldn't be surprised if their enmity toward you far outlasts their allegiance to the Dark Lord."
Even Harry had the grace to look abashed, if only for a moment.
Hermione rose painfully to her feet and met Snape's gaze squarely. "So it's to be 'constant vigilance' again?"
Snape looked down his nose at her. "As you ought to have gleaned from your fourth year experiences with the ersatz Alastor Moody, all the vigilance in the world won't save you from your inability to analyse what you observe. Abbott!"
Hannah snapped to attention. "Yes, sir?"
"Why didn't you Stun me when you first saw me in the doorway?"
"Because I was casting a Patronus, sir."
"I recall seeing at least three different Patronuses. Would three corporeal Patronuses have been necessary if I had been a Dementor?"
"No, sir." Hermione was pleased to note that Hannah still sounded rather proud of herself.
Snape didn't miss her tone. "I suppose you're feeling smug because you can produce a corporeal Patronus. Did you fail to notice that it didn't protect you from being incapacitated within seconds? What good are pretty charms if they're used inappropriately, you feeble-minded ninny?"
"Slimy git," muttered Ron.
"Mister Weasley, I noticed your Patronus galumphing in my direction as well. I seem to recall your terrified whisper that I might be a Boggart. Would you care to explain why you cast a Patronus instead of the Ridikkulus Charm?"
"I changed my mind," said Ron with a brave attempt at nonchalance.
"That would indicate that some form of thought flashed through the malodorous murk between your ears, which I sincerely doubt. And you, Potter, as de facto head of this pathetic group, why did you not direct your classmates to consider more logical options, considering that men are far more common in Wales than Dementors or Boggarts?"
Harry did not answer, he merely glared at Snape.
Snape eyed him with the same look that he usually reserved for Neville's Potions assignments and moved on. "As much as it shocks me to say it, the only person in this class who observed me, drew a conclusion that was nearly logical, and acted in an appropriate way was Longbottom."
Neville winced when Snape said his name, but opened an eye cautiously, hardly daring to believe that he'd been praised.
"I- I-" he stammered.
"Yes, you quivering excuse for a wizard, you realised that you were closest to the door, remembered that your third year Boggart took my form, concluded incorrectly that it was more likely for you to encounter a Boggart than myself, and cast the appropriate charm. I credit this to nothing more than dumb luck, but as it constitutes the only occurrence of near-thought demonstrated by this dazzling array of dunderheads, I have no choice but to point it out."
Hermione thought of several other moments where she, Neville, and Harry had worked together to capture Snape, but she had no desire to bring Snape's attention to her. That would come soon enough. However, Snape walked past her without a word.
"Your pathetic actions today have demonstrated to me that you are not yet prepared for more rigorous practical exercises in class," Snape barked. "Thus, I want five feet of parchment on the subject of how anxiety affects decision-making, due tomorrow."
"There's nothing in the book about anxiety," protested Hermione.
"Then you shall have an excellent opportunity to experience it," said Snape, looking smug. "Class is dismissed." He swept out of the room in a swirl of black robes.
The N.E.W.T.s class looked at one another, gobsmacked.
"I suppose it'd be too much to ask that he's only teaching Defence," said Neville.
"As if I didn't already have enough problems in Potions," moaned Ron.
"But we can't possibly scare off Snape," moaned Susan, wringing her hands. "Maybe we should just try doing what he asks."
"Emergency meeting at eleven in my quarters," said Hermione grimly. "We have a great deal to talk about."
"And not just about Snape, I hope," said Justin. "Five feet of parchment? The man is mad!"
Ron tousled Hermione's hair. "If anyone can write five feet and figure out how to press Snape's buttons in one night, it's Hermione."
"Professor Snape," corrected Hermione automatically, as she gathered her books. "And I wouldn't worry. We've seen him lose his temper enough that it shouldn't be too difficult."
Harry cleared his throat. "Hermione, I want to talk to you when you're finished with Runes. Meet me in the armoury?"
Hermione had been thumbing through one of her books looking for something on anxiety. "Sure, Harry."
"You're going to have someone new today, what with Cyphre leaving, right?" asked Neville.
Hermione blinked. Surely Snape wouldn't be teaching Ancient Runes, would he?
"Best keep your wand out, since we won't be there to cover your back," said Ron. "It probably won't be Snape anyway, assuming we've got him for Potions, too."
Hermione made a face. "If they hired Professor Snape, there's no telling how low they'll go to fill vacancies. It almost makes me wish I hadn't been so rude to Professor Cyphre."
Susan looked at her curiously. "Really?"
"No, not really," she said with an impish grin. "His analyses really were crap."
o0o