Out of the Room and Into the Fire
By Greenfly
Disclaimer – An easy one to start off with – guess who:
"His hair is greasy; a shoulder-length curtain. But is he evil? I think not! For certain."
How many more times do I have to say it? I don't own Harry Potter! Don't make me say it again. Please… No more… (starts wailing hysterically). NOOO… ! Wait a minute. What do mine eyes see? Chocolate? (Prances off to the chocolate chip cookie-jar.) Yum yum yum yum yum…
Thank you to all my reviewers. You are all absolutely MARVELOUS, and I love you so much I would give you all a cookie… if I hadn't just finished them…
On with the fic!
Chapter Four – So many things…
"Hermione, where did you get that book?"
"Not telling you."
Ron had been trying to surprise an answer out of her for the past hour, and Hermione's patience was wearing dangerously thin. She was NOT going to tell him, because she refused to lie to her friends. 'Forget' to mention things – yes, bend the truth – yes, lie outright? Never. At least not yet.
Hermione was sitting at a table in the Gryffindor common room and having a great deal of trouble with the ferocious transfiguration essay that they'd been set ('Describe, with reference to politics and the legal system, why transfiguring human beings is generally discouraged. Include examples of past occurrences, and some history of human transfiguration.')
Understandably, Hermione was having a miserable time. (Yes, she did enjoy school work, and extra homework always gave her the most exhilarating thrill, but right now she just couldn't be assed. It was just too hard!) She dipped her quill into the inkpot once more and glanced from under her lashes at Harry, who was watching a game of exploding snap and Ron, who was pretending to read a book but was really scrutinizing her, his face scrunched in thought as he tried to figure out from where she had got the book.
She wanted to finish this paragraph at least before he asked again, but she had to be quick. She set her quill to the parchment.
"Hermione!" She jumped and the tip of her quill split. "Where did you get that book?"
Hermione's shoulders hunched and her back went rigid as she tried to take calming breaths. She would not strangle Ron, she would NOT strangle Ron... Nor stab her broken quill through his neck. Nor destroy the pack of especially noisy exploding snap cards that were slowly driving her insane. She couldn't. Just one small death... NO! She mustn't. It would distract her from her NEWTS.
"Hermione, where did you get…"
"AHHHH!" Hermione stood abruptly, her chair scraping noisily against the floor, and made a swift departure from the now quiet common room, making sure to throw her broken quill at Ron's startled face on the way. She needed a walk. A long walk, then a nice quiet, private place to fume and think what to write next in her essay. And to laugh at the look on Ron's face as her quill hit him smack in the middle of his forehead.
Hee hee.
A tiny bell chimed with a booming sound, and Snape knew immediately that the Slytherin password had been changed. That hag Parkinson had notified him in advance about the change, in accordance with school rules. He smirked when he thought of her intended password. If it was becoming of him to clap his hands with devilish glee like a girl, he would have. Oh, she was in for it when Draco discovered the new password. Naturally, Snape had given his permission for the change.
Therefore he was extraordinarily surprised to hear a tentative knock at his office door, which was opened by a flick of his wand to reveal some mildly nervous first year Slytherins claiming that they could not enter the common room. Pansy was usually fairly organised about this sort of thing – letting your Slytherin peers know about a password change. He told them the new password sharply and they scurried out of the room, and Snape settled down once more to devise the following term's pop quizzes. He was therefore not overjoyed at the return of the dratted first years – even more frightened than before. Ensuring that a mask of anger was placed over his face, he smiled to himself as they shrank away from him slightly as he strode past. Oh how he loved scaring students. Mwa ha ha ha haaa.
Shortly they arrived at Mick the wall and Snape loudly declared the password that would make Draco cringe for the next two months. But nothing happened. After a couple more attempts, the first years were feeling slightly more confident and were sniggering slightly.
The Parkinson Hag had better not have stuffed it up, Snape threatened in his head as he stormed back to his office, closely followed by the bloody first years. He had extended the time period that her chosen password would hold for – under the pretence that the password would also cover the Christmas holidays – but really because he wanted to see Malfoy's son cringe.
He allowed the first years to floo through his fireplace into the common room before he stepped through the fireplace himself. He was going to find that Parkinson girl and demand why her chosen password was not working. She'd better not have changed it last minute to anything stupid. Otherwise there'd be hell to pay.
Moaning Myrtle's bathroom seemed the best place to be if you wanted to be alone, and you had learned how to tune out Myrtle's whinging. So that's where Hermione was headed for, after a brief sprint around the quidditch pitch to rid herself of any manifesting murderous tendencies. Now she could settle down for some quiet time to think and to giggle. She just wanted to be solitary, in a reasonably quiet place. Hermione was therefore reasonably curious when she heard a piercing wailing echoing from the bathroom, followed by Moaning Myrtle's voice telling whoever it was to shut up in a very unsympathetic way. Curiosity may have killed the cat, but Hermione was no cat and she went to investigate.
She pushed the door open very slightly and poked her head round it, and she couldn't help it. The word just left her. It wasn't her fault.
"Pansy?"
The said girl whirled to face her, and instead of the usual snarl that Hermione was greeted with, Pansy hid her face once more in her hands.
Now, Hermione was not in any way a cruel person. She did have dark thoughts yes, and by gum did she have a lot of enemies that she would quite happily see get turned into teapots, but when one of her lower, third-ranking enemies was sobbing her heart out, Hermione had to see what she could do. She came forward and stopped in front of Pansy, hesitated, then pulled her into a gentle hug.
Pansy froze before pushing Hermione roughly away. No one had ever hugged her, and she was going to let any mudblood start now. But her grief was just too great and within seconds she had dissolved into ear-splitting wails once more.
"PANSY!" Hermione shouted above the shrieks. "WHAT'S WRONG?" She was ignored. "PANSY?" Still, shrieks. Shrugging, Hermione turned to leave; anywhere was better than here. But as she laid her hand on the door handle, a sudden eerie silence met her ears and she turned to see Pansy looking at her sorrowfully.
"I'm in deep shit mudblood." Hermione would have left right then and there, if it hadn't been for her damn insatiable curiosity.
"What's wrong?"
"I changed the password."
"To what?"
"Something that wasn't planned. Bloody Draco had to walk in, announce something utterly ridiculous to the sofas, and then leave. And now that's the new password." Pansy banged her fist against the sink with a resounding thump, before massaging her fist.
"What did Draco say?"
Pansy looked at Hermione sharply. "None of your business mudblood." Hermione shrugged. Seeing she was about to leave, for no apparent reason Pansy plunged on. "The other Slytherins are going to kill me when they find out though."
"But it wasn't your fault."
"And do you think they'll care? Draco's their prince, I'm only their queen." She shook her head sadly, while Hermione's confusion increased. Wasn't a queen usually higher than a prince? Ah well.
"So what are you going to do?"
Pansy looked around, as if examining a new piece of jewellery.
"I'm going to stay here until classes start again, and I can be protected."
"NO!" Moaning Myrtle wailed in final objection before diving down a toilet with a large splash of water, to sob out of sight in the U-bend.
Hermione tried to reason with Pansy, but she would have none of it. So half an hour later, Hermione left the bathroom with promises not to tell any Slytherins where she was, thinking that Pansy would forsake her refuge pretty swiftly in favour of food, and wondering what the hell the new Slytherin password was? What on earth would Draco announce to the common room that would have Pansy so distraught? She might never know…
And so Hermione trudged back to Gryffindor common room, ignored the questions and queries thrown at her and curled up in bed with a good book, waiting for lunch.
Lunch really was a spectacular affair. Despite the minimal number of people staying at Hogwarts, Christmas Day was being celebrated with great enthusiasm – the decorations having almost completely changed since breakfast from a holly green and berry red to pink and gold fairies bearing Christmas lights prancing around the place. Draco eyed them with disgust.
The traditional house tables had once more been dispensed with in favour of one particularly long table where teachers outnumbered students two to one. Draco ensured that there were at least two seats separating him from anyone else on either side. Unfortunately, the Golden Trio arrived, and these seats were the only ones still unoccupied. There goes another genius plan. Those pesky kids.
The Potty and his pet Weasel almost raced to reach the seats furthest from him. Honestly! It wasn't like he smelled or anything. He'd only had a shower that morning! But then Draco decided that their childish behaviour was perhaps for the best, as Hermione's only option was to sit right next to him. Ha ha. Lunch was going to be fun.
"Draco." She nodded as she sat down next to him.
"Hermione."
"Alright?" She asked, glancing at him, then she got a funny look in her eye. "Warm enough?"
"What? Oh, yeah thanks. The mittens worked a treat when I was outside earlier. Did you spell them to be waterproof or…?" Their whispers subsided along with any other conversation as Dumbledore stood up from his chair, halfway down the table.
"Bibbidy Bobbidy Boo. A merry Christmas to you. Jibber jabber wocky munch munch squee!"
"Nutter." Ron and Draco muttered at the same time, as Dumbledore sat down and they both reached forward to help themselves to some potatoes. Hermione tried to hide her smile. But when Draco knocked Ron's hand out of the way so that he could get at the potatoes first, and Ron scowled darkly at him from under those bright orange eyebrows (half of which was missing – they had never found it after he had splinched himself), Hermione let out a very unladylike snort of laughter. Poor Harry mistook the sound and thought she was choking, and promptly started whacking her on the back, making her cough and splutter. Draco handed her some pumpkin juice which she drank, shuddering (pineapple and coconut juice is sooo much better); and Ron looked around anxiously because he couldn't dream of anyone choking unless they had eaten Cheerios, and there were no Cheerios in sight! Unless she had eaten them all! His confusion changed to a look of pride as he gazed at his precious Hermione. He knew she had it in her to inhale breakfast cereal! It wasn't that hard if you try!
After the glazed look left Hermione's eyes (she could swear that juice was spiked with something) she felt something discretely tap on her leg under the table and looked in the direction of Draco.
"You ok?" He asked curiously, quirking an eyebrow. Damn Potter, she obviously hadn't been choking until he'd thumped her on the back with his thunder hands. Can't he recognise a pig-like snort of laughter when he heard one? Brain the size of a peanut, that one. Don't know how he does it…
"I wasn't even choking. Just er… coughing."
"Suuure. Coughing. That's right. Coughing…" He replied, absently piling caramelised carrots onto her plate.
"Er… Draco? What are you doing?" Draco looked sheepish for a second, pink tinging his cheeks. What was he doing? But caramelised carrots are so good…
He was distracted as something whizzed past his ear. As he turned back towards the table, another pea hit him in the eye, making it water. Laughter could be heard. Oh… they were in for it now.
Hermione hadn't noticed, but she did look up at the sound of sniggering.
"What?" That look of innocence wouldn't fool a donkey's bum. Weasley really did have a lot to learn.
"Are you chucking food again?" Silently Draco cheered – no one fooled his Hermione! But then he got hit by another pea, sent his way by Potter as Hermione's attention was consumed with Weaselbee.
"Harry!" Hermione reprimanded. "Stop! Dumbledore's looking at us."
Malfoy's head swivelled to see Dumbledore who was staring resolutely at his plate of roast, and mushrooms cooked in garlic butter. Was it just him or did that mother-of-Merlin beard of his twitch? His gaze turned back to Hermione, who was muttering to him.
"Just ignore them. They're being silly. They do this to me and Seamus and Dean all the time. They think it's funny. I really don't…" She had to stop because she couldn't talk around the food she'd put in her mouth.
A piece of sweet corn hit Draco in the forehead, followed by even more sniggering. Ignore them, ignore them. He would not stoop to their level. Retaliation would only encourage them. Draco had to ignore them. In the name off all things magical, ignore them…
His silent chant was working quite well, until a gasp came from his side as a pea flew directly into Hermione's ear. He would have laughed at her face, if a rather large piece of cauliflower hadn't just bounced off of his nose. His nose for Wizard's sake! His nose! What kind of aim was that? His nose! He could feel gravy on his face. Oh… now they were really gonna get it. Another pea, discretely thrown, came flying his way, which he dodged. He grabbed a chicken leg and hurled in with all his might at Potter's head.
"Oompf!" Potter slid partway down his seat as silence descended on the entire table. Uh oh… But before any of the teachers could say anything, he was yanked up by one arm and manhandled from the Hall.
"What the hell did you do that for? You could have seriously hurt him!" Hermione ranted as soon as the door snapped shut behind her.
"And what makes you think I wasn't trying to!" Draco's rage at Potter and Weasel, and consequent humiliation took form against Hermione. "They are useless PRATS! I mean, can you get any more childish? They're so STUPID. Maybe I knocked Potter's ONE EXISTING BRAIN CELL out of existence, but it's not such a big loss anyway because it will make no DIFFERENCE! Potter and Weasley are ABSOLUTE TWITS! And so are you for ignoring them! What did they do to you? Imperio you to put up with them? Where is your manhood woman?" Angrily, Draco started to storm away, but unfortunately for him Hermione was not one to be shouted at.
"Manhood! MANHOOD! I'll give you manhood you big-footed baboon!" Hermione was catching up with him as he hurried away from her, her face like thunder.
She kicked him in the backside.
"AHHHH! What was that for you… you bloody teapot!"
"THAT was for… Teapot?" The thunderous look was replaced with a quickly stifled giggle. "Teapot?"
"ARGH!" Draco shrieked in exasperation before beginning to storm away again.
"Did you just call me a teapot? Draco Malfoy just called me a teapot!" Hermione announced gleefully to a nearby suit of armour. Oh, he would never live this down.
"Wait, Draco! Do you know what the new password to Slytherin is?" Draco stopped in his tracks as Hermione hurried up to him once more. The randomest stuff occurs to people sometimes...
There was no new password. Wait… it was Pansy's turn to change it and OH DEAR MERLIN! Draco hurried away once more in the direction of the Slytherin common room, this time without Hermione behind him.
She was genuinely curious about the new password but she guessed that right now wasn't the time. She was quite annoyed with him for insulting her friends, but when he had called her a teapot… oh! What an insult! She was sooo scared.
She made her way back to the Great Hall to return to those caramelised carrots. She'd never had them before and they were pretty tasty. Perhaps she should get some for Pansy?
Naaah…
As she entered Harry looked up at her and nodded to let her know that she was alright, for which she was glad. She resumed her place once more – everyone had almost finished dinner.
"Hey, what went on out there? We heard shouting." Harry took her hand and squeezed it gently as Ron looked across the table at her with concern.
"Don't worry. I can hold my own. Especially against Draco." Noticing a twinkle appear in her eyes, Harry could help but question as he released her hand in favour of his fork.
"Care to share?" Ron leaned forward to hear better.
"I yelled at him a bit for being an idiot, he called you both stupid twits, I kicked him, and he called me a teapot."
"A teapot?" Ron said, disbelieving.
"Yep. A teapot."
Their attention was drawn away down the table by a badly hidden snort, and they turned to see Dumbledore staring once more very resolutely at his plate, his silver beard quivering ominously as McGonagall looked at him with worry.
And soon their Christmas holidays came to an end. Pansy snuck out of the bathrooms that very night for some treacle tart, and was caught by none other than a very angry Snape (much to Moaning Myrtle's relief). Snape had been searching high and low across the castle for her, and after many hours of torturous interrogation ("What did you change the password to?" "'I love Potter', sir." "To what!") Snape almost (almost!) a heart attack. But thankfully didn't, and instead informed Miss Parkinson that she would be the one telling the new password to the Slytherins when they got back from Christmas break, and that she could practise now on the existing Slytherins.
Draco was not impressed by the password, to say the least.
But of course, the password was fixed and no one except the Headmaster could change it for the next two months. But unfortunately Professor Dumbledore seemed to find it 'endearing', and refused to do so.
Snape was not pleased. Imagine him having to profess his love to Potter every time he wanted to check up on his Slytherins?
He was not a happy bunny. But then again, he was never a bunny to begin with… until that fateful night...
A/N
What are the other Slytherin's reactions to the new password? And most importantly, now that all his mates are back, what is going to happen to our most beloved big-footed baboon and his favourite teapot? Review, and next chapter you might find out!
What do you think about me writing a short fic about Snape turning into a happy bunny? I have one I'm thinking of writing at the moment, and I could slip it in there. OR should I write a one-shot? Or should I stop being silly and not write anything at all, except for this fic? Let me know!
-Greenfly