CHAPTER 7

The door behind Harry was ripped open.

"So much for Gryffindor courage," Snape sneered, overtaking Harry and blocking his way.

"Look, Snape, I don't want to quarrel with you. We're colleagues, as Dumbledore himself pointed out to us."

"I will not take any insolence from you, Potter, just because you're no longer my student!"

Harry had had enough. He recalled a non-verbal spell which Fred and George Weasley had taught him. He concentrated, staring at Snape.

"Potter, that was a deploringly obvious non-verbal spell." he said in a dangerous tone.

"At least you can't accuse me of having said anything wrong," Harry replied humorously, biting the inside of his cheeks as he looked at Snape's hair. Snape raised his hand and ran it through his hair.

"Potter, what exactly-"

Harry took Snape's arm (Snape gave him a glance of absolute loathing at the touch) and steered him towards the mirror.

Snape went even paler than he already was. According to the mirror, his hair was an interesting shade of bright orange.

The enraged Potions Master swivelled around and grabbed Harry by the collar of his robes.

"How dare you, you-!"

Harry managed to push him away. Both wizards drew out their wands.

"Want to duel, Potter? Now we'll see if you're fit for the Defense against the Dark Arts position!"

"Expelliarmus!" Harry shouted, but Snape had uttered the same spell simultaneously.

The two spells met mid-air. There was a loud explosion; the floor vibrated, the mirror fell down and shattered, tables and chairs slid a few inches over the floor and one of the chandeliers hanging from the ceiling went dark. Guests leapt up in alarm.

A glass flew past Harry's ear and smashed against the picture of the wizard who had called Harry "Cutie" a few minutes ago. The wizard put his hands on his hips and hollered:

"I am not here to have things flung at me, you idiots!"

"Fuck you, Potter!" Snape bellowed.

"Yeah, fuck you too, Snape!" Harry yelled.

"Okay, that's enough, break it up, gentlemen!" A waiter had abandoned his tray to intervene.

Snape and Harry glared murderously at each other as they were separated.

"Right, now kindly put those away," the waiter continued, indicating their wands, "or you will both have to be excluded from this bar. We do not tolerate any brawling or such behaviour as you just demonstrated."

Here the other guests nodded vigorously and made sounds of hearty agreement. Harry, shame-faced, apologised; Snape simply glared and stalked off. Harry made sure to wait for five minutes before following suit, shocked gazes from the guests drilling into his back.

When he reached his rooms, he was greeted by an apologetic-looking Dobby.

"Er, for you, Harry Potter," the elf said, holding out a scarlet envelope. Harry's insides squirmed. He knew what it was.

"Thanks, Dobby," he said dully, gingerly taking the Howler. Snape evidently simply couldn't get enough.

Dobby put his hands over his ears and vanished with a crack.

"Crap," Harry muttered, steeling himself as he opened the letter.

"HARRY JAMES POTTER, I WANT YOU IN MY OFFICE NOW!" Albus Dumbledore's voice resonated horrifyingly in his room, making a few books fall off his shelves. Flakes of paint from the ceiling drifted onto the floor like snow.

"Not Snape," Harry sighed.

Hedwig ruffled her feathers reproachfully at him. She had brought Harry a letter, probably from Ron and Hermione. He would have to postpone the pleasure of reading it and attend to vastly more disagreeable business. Swallowing hard, he eyed the bowl of Floo powder but decided to walk instead to Dumbledore's office. He was only too grateful if he could procrastinate the route to his new employer's wrath. He trotted meekly out of his rooms and discovered Snape in front of the gargoyle. His hair was still orange. There was an extremely unpleasant silence.

"Er – do you know the password?" Harry said.

Snape didn't deign to answer Harry and frigidly addressed the gargoyle:

"Puking Pastille."

Obviously, Dumbledore had paid a visit – or more – to the twins' joke shop in Diagon Alley.

The door was flung open by Dumbledore himself as soon as the wizards reached it.

"Good evening," he said curtly. "Come inside and take a seat."

He flicked his wand and two chairs moved before his desk, thudding together with a sickening crunch. Harry and Snape obeyed, moving their chairs away from each other immediately.

Dumbledore paced up and down in front of his desk for a few moments before sitting down and looking gravely at the two wizards, his eyes passing over Snape's orange hair without the faintest flicker of emotion.

"Severus, Harry, I am very disappointed in both of you."

Severus studied the wall behind Dumbledore and Harry became deeply absorbed in his shoelaces.

"Two adult wizards fighting in public. Two Hogwarts teachers. Two people who collaborated against Voldemort. This is like a kindergarten!"

"Headmaster, Potter started it all, as my hair clearly indicates."

"Nothing Poppy can't put right, Severus."

Snape glared at him.

"I am fully capable of fixing this issue myself, Albus."

"Glad to hear it. And I would be even happier to hear if you and you (gazing sternly at Harry) made the mountainous effort to behave like normal adult wizards."

The expressions on Harry's and Snape's faces clearly revealed that they thought the other was rather far from normal.

"Uhm…How did you hear about our, uh, argument, Professor?" Harry asked timidly, automatically falling back into his student role.

"Albus, my dear boy. The wizard who broke up your quarrel informed Nymphadora Tonks, who in turn informed me. Just because Voldemort has gone it doesn't mean all the danger is past. Bellatrix Lestrange and other Death Eaters are on the run, and you two are fully aware of this. They will want revenge for what happened to Voldemort, and the best way to achieve that goal is to locate Harry's whereabouts and yours as well, Severus, besides searching for the others who helped defeat Voldemort; I therefore asked Tonks to keep an eye on you."

There was a tense pause, then Dumbledore said briskly:

"I think I have made myself clear. You may go. Good night. AND BEHAVE YOURSELVES! CHOP CHOP!"

Mustering the remains of their shredded dignity, Snape and Harry hastily stood up and tried not to run for the door like two scared children.

Outside, they stamped away in opposite directions.

The next morning, Snape had managed to restore his hair to its usual black. Harry felt a twinge of regret. He would have loved to see the students' reactions to their Potions Master's hair problem. Dumbledore was still stern, and Harry soon saw why when Hedwig delivered The Daily Prophet to him.

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