CHAPTER FIVE—Meanies
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Hermione, Neville, Ron, and Lavender sat squeezed on a sofa in the Room of Requirement. Lavender cuddled and cooed at baby Trelawney in her arms. Hermione stared at her respected, intelligent professors lying on their bellies, surrounded by crayons. Ron and Neville gaped, mouths open, limbs slack. On the fluffy rug, miniaturized McGonagall, Snape, Sprout, Vector, and Hooch coloured on hippogriff-sized pieces of parchment.
Baby Sinistra's cradle rocked a slow tempo next to Hermione's knee. The antique wood creaked and ancient odours sprinkled from every crack. Hermione looked in on the Astronomy professor. Her lips twitched. The tiny fists curled on the ends of Aurora's arms. Her cashmere soft skin dimpled. Hermione smiled at the fat rolls—the chubbier, the better.
"This is mad, absolutely mad," said Ron, ogling at tiny Snape. The only little boy in the room drew pine trees as McGonagall scribbled various, colourful creatures at his side.
"Look how cute you are, yes, you are," Lavender said to Sybill. "We'll need to buy them all proper clothes. Snape's still wearing his lame black coat!" The students had shrunk their professors' clothes to fit them and it looked odd.
"I don't know, I think it's kind of funny," Ron said. The little Professor McGonagall was in her usual green jacket and Madam Hooch had on her flying robes and vest. "They're adults, turned into children, wearing adult clothes."
"The babies are wearing scarves," Neville stressed.
"Well, that's a little less funny."
"We'll transfigure their clothes when we get the chance." Hermione's voice was muffled by her yawn and her hand. Professor Sinistra began fussing, sucking in the air. Hermione conjured a bottle from the other side of the nursery.
"This is so mad," Neville said. His favourite teacher was now nothing but an ankle-biter! Instead of making Venomous Tentacula grow with a steady hand, Professor Sprout busied herself drawing yellow daisies and green roses.
"Oy, what's you talkin' 'bout over there?" nine-year-old Rolanda Hooch shouted from her spot on the floor.
"We were talking about everyone's lovely artwork," Hermione said. "Show us what you all have done."
"I drew a volcano!" Hooch declared, brandishing the drawing with so much gusto that the bottom furled up and hit Pomona in the nose.
"I drew pretty fwowers." Pomona pointed at the bottom of Rolanda's page.
Vector held up her paper, blushing and shy. She hid her red cheeks behind her too-large spectacles.
"Isn't that pretty?" Lavender encouraged. Nobody had any idea what all those multi-coloured scribbles were supposed to be.
"What did you two draw?" Hermione asked, kneeling between McGonagall and Snape.
"Trees…" he muttered.
"Kitties!" Minerva chirped, pointing at her favorite purple scribble.
Oh, kitties, I see, Hermione thought. "We have such good artists!"
Hooch tottered over. "Kitties? Look like bloody monsters, to me."
"Rolanda, that is not nice," Hermione scolded. "Apologize to Minerva."
"No." She turned up her nose.
"Don't be mean to Minnie," Snape said hotly. The six-year-old was half the size of Rolanda. He gave the older girl a malevolent glare.
"Your Christmas trees are ugly," Rolanda said. "Like you!" She stuck out her tongue.
"Rolanda, go stand in the corner," Ron ordered, standing up. "Until you learn to be nice."
Minnie burst into tears. "Why are you always so mean?"
Severus tried to get her to stop. "Don' cry, Minnie." The little boy's eyes started shining. Both of the professors were trembling.
Ron marched Rolanda over to the corner and told her what she had done wrong. Hermione gave Neville a panicked look. Neville, still afraid of Professor Snape, sat next to little Minerva.
"I think they're nice kitties, Prof—Minerva," said Neville as he touched her shoulder.
Minnie launched into Neville's lap and kept sobbing. Neville looked terrified and confused—mostly terrified. Severus rubbed his eyes with both hands.
"Oh, S-Severus, it's alright," Hermione said, still unfamiliar with his given name. She hesitated when reaching out to his arms. The professor had never liked being touched, or comforted. Not that Hermione had ever seen anyone try.
"Sev'rus's not ugly!" Minerva cried. "'Landa is jus' mean to Sevvie! All the time! I don't like it!"
"Don' cry, Minnie," Severus whispered, hiding his tears behind his tiny, white hands.
Professor Vector tripped over to Minerva. She held out a piece of parchment with a messy, multi-coloured heart. "Iss okay, Minnie." Hermione thought Professor Vector might be about eight-years-old. At this age, she had a gap between her two front teeth, causing an adorable lisp.
In the background, Pomona sat chewing her fingernails. Hermione hadn't seen Pomona talk to Severus once since their age-reversal. Was the nine-year-old…afraid of the little boy?
Minerva calmed, and sniffled at the drawing in her hands. "Th-thank you."
Septima skittered back to Pomona. Hermione watched Professor Snape rub his eyes, though he tried to hide his face.
Ginny and Luna came through the door.
"What's going on in here, then?" Ginny blustered, seeing her brother standing with Hooch in the corner, Snape on the floor, and McGonagall red-faced in Neville's arms.
Lavender murmured, "Hooch keeps being mean to Snape and McGonagall. I don't think they can be with Hooch and Sprout without getting into some fights, you know?"
Luna picked up Professor Sinistra. "Why do you think this has happened to them?"
Minerva disentangled herself from Neville's neck while Ginny and Hermione traded places.
"Who knows? Who knows?" Lavender said to Sybill in a baby voice, swinging Sybill's pudgy little hands around.
"What time is it?" Hermione groaned. Ginny played patty-cake with Minerva while Severus watched.
"Almost dinner time. Professor Flitwick is going to have the house-elves send up food," Luna said.
The food appeared on the low table in the center of the room. "There it is, see?" Luna asked as Lavender rolled her eyes.
"Alright, kids, come to the table," Hermione said. Hooch sulked over her shoulder as all the others congregated near the food. Ron helped the little ones climb into chairs. Ginny put napkins in everyone's laps while Neville poured out the pumpkin juice.
Hermione bent down to speak to the Quidditch referee. "Are you ready to apologize to Severus and Minerva?"
"Hmph!"
"Rolanda," Hermione warned.
"I don't like him," Rolanda huffed.
"You're not going to like everybody you meet. But you don't have to be mean to him or Minerva." Hermione straightened up. "If you apologize, you can go eat at the table with everyone else. Or you can be stubborn and eat here, alone." Good thing I don't take flying class anymore, she thought. Or else this might come back to haunt my grade!
Ron took the baby from Lavender and fed the infant a bottle. Luna fed Aurora. Lavender and Neville began on their roast chicken while Ginny supervised the professors.
"What do you want to do?" Hermione asked.
"I'll say sorry," Rolanda mumbled, rubbing the floor with her toe.
"Good." Hermione led Rolanda to her seat. "Minerva, Severus, Rolanda has something to say." Professor McGonagall looked expectant and impatient. Professor Snape narrowed his eyes, still frowning.
"I'm sorry," Madam Hooch said to the floor.
"Alright, everyone, dig in," Ginny said, hoping to distract the children from another argument.
Hermione fell, exhausted, into the couch cushions.
"How long is this gonna last?" Neville asked, munching on a drumstick.
"Who knows," Ron moaned.
"Luna and I have our Astronomy exam at eleven," Hermione said. Hermione was the only eighth-year enrolled in Professor Sinistra's class.
"I guess we'll have to put the kids to bed by then."
"Whoa—where are they sleeping?" Ron asked. "I mean, the babies have cots, but what about the other kids?" Sybill's dainty fingers tried to pry the bottle from Ron's grip. She was nothing but a doll in Ron's Quidditch-toned arms.
The students turned to look at their teachers.
"Um, well…" Hermione ruffled her hair. "Ron and Lavender sleep in the same bed anyway…" Lavender blushed. "The little girls can sleep in the extra bed."
"Should they be sleeping in the same bed in front of the kids?" Luna asked quietly.
"Well, I can't take care of a baby all on my own." Lavender became flustered. "Sybill will be with us in Ron's room, right, Ron?" He nodded.
"Ginny and I can move our beds into the eighth-year's common room," Luna offered. "Lavender's bed can be moved to the sitting room as well—we can all sleep out there, for a few days."
Neville put his head in his hand. "The Gryffindors will notice your bed has been moved." Since Luna was the Head Girl, she had her own room, on the floor above the eighth-year common room.
Hogwarts hadn't had any eighth-years for two centuries. Mrs Longbottom insisted Neville return to school and train to be a proper Herbologist. Hermione wanted to earn her N.E.W.T.s, even if she would be the only one of her year to return. Thankfully, Ron had been convinced to come back, and he had convinced Lavender. Harry was eager to make a name for himself, as someone other than "the Boy Who Lived Twice"—it was a mouthful, he was no longer a boy, and most of his success had been based on luck. That was how Harry explained it, anyway.
"I'm sure you can find a spare bed somewhere in the castle." Hermione settled back into the arm of the couch, extending her legs so that her feet almost touched Lavender.
"I can just sleep on the sofa until the holiday starts." Ginny added in a mutter, "Though I hope we won't be here that long."
The children finished eating and began running around.
"We need to get them something to sleep in," Ron said.
"After I eat, I'll go get clothes for the girls," Luna volunteered. Everyone turned to Ron and Neville.
"Not it!" Neville said. Ron hung his head.
"Fine," the ginger sighed. "I'll go into Snape's dungeons and root around, and hope I don't set off a hex or something."
Luna pressed a finger to her lips—Hermione was asleep. The brunette's head lolled on the arm of the couch. Brown tendrils of hair hung over the cushions and brushed the stone floor. Ron, sending a comforted grin to Hermione's sleeping form, passed the baby to his girlfriend. Luna gave Aurora to Ginny. Ron and the Head Girl then left in search of clothes for the children.
"What spell do we use to shrink clothes, again?" Ron asked Luna as he shut the door behind them.
Living on the run for five months, sleeping in a tent, no less, had ruined Hermione's sleeping pattern. Though Voldemort was, for lack of a better term, in remission, and most of the Death Eaters had been imprisoned, Hermione's brain would not permit her to sleep until exhaustion set in. There were too many things to stress about, too many people that might be after her life. That meant cat naps, grabbed at any moment, would have to do instead of real sleep. It wasn't a perfect system, by any means; not even forty minutes later, a shrill giggle woke Hermione from her unplanned nap.
The little girls were loping away from one another. Hooch tossed her brown vest to the floor as she chased down her prey. Minerva's doll-like hands clutched her green tartan skirts up about her knees. Her tiny, red and gold socked feet fluttered beneath black ruffles and hems. Professor Vector's magenta teaching cloak flew out behind her and brown curls bounced on her shoulders. Sprout's cheeks flushed, warmed by running and the heavy tan cardigan about her torso.
Professor Vector stumbled as Madam Hooch tagged her shoulder. "You're it!"
Lavender sat at Hermione's feet, still holding the baby. Neville sat on the rug, his foot tipping Professor Sinistra's crib as he watched the kids play. The couch dipped as Hermione righted herself. The smell of roast chicken still scented the air.
"What time is it?" Hermione yawned.
"Almost nine," Neville answered. "You alright? You haven't eaten anything."
"I'm fine." When Hermione looked down in the cradle, she was surprised to see wide, blue eyes looking up at her. "Professor Sinistra is awake."
"She just kind of lays there," Lavender explained.
"Maybe she's glad to have an early holiday." Neville smirked up at Hermione, his head back against the couch. "I would be."
Hermione grinned, wondering how it felt to be a baby again. As her cheek squished against her hand, and her elbow dug into her knee, she looked around the room. Professor Snape sat alone, near the bookcase. The little boy watched the others play tag.
In her chest, a ball of hot air expanded. The empty feeling rose up to the hollow of her throat. From the other side of the chamber, she could see him curling his bare toes into the carpet. Professor Sprout and Madam Hooch sprinted across the room, with Professor McGonagall close behind. Professor Vector squealed and hid behind a wooden chair.
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Severus saw one of the adults coming over. At first, he thought she was walking to the bookshelf. Then she looked at him. Severus moved his eyes away, to look at anything but her. He tried to scoot away. When she sat down beside him, his heart beat just a little bit faster. What did she want?
"Why aren't you playing?" The girl was so close he could feel her body heat touching his arm.
He didn't look at her. "They don' wan' me to play."
"That's not true."
The lady was giving him a sad face. Severus fumbled with a button at the bottom of his jacket. He was not used to people trying to look into his eyes, or being so close to him when they talked. "Nobody likes me." The young wizard scooted down the wall. Somehow he knew that this lady didn't like him very much either. But he couldn't figure out why she would want to talk to him—he didn't have any toys she could take.
"They don't know you," she said.
Severus pulled his knees closer to his chest. "They won' like me when they know me, eivver." Minnie could play with 'Landa—but 'Landa wouldn't let her play if Severus wanted to play too.
"I don't think you're all that bad."
A sideways glance let him know that the lady talking to him was feeling sad. She was smiling, but her eyes were not happy. "Wha's your name?" he asked, twiddling the fingers resting on his bony knees.
"I am Hermione."
"Her-mi-nee?" Her name was even longer than his!
She giggled. "You can call me 'Mione." She offered her hand for him to shake.
Severus retreated into his shy shell before his little hand reached out. Her hand was warm, holding his.
"It's nice to meet you, Severus." The lady was smiling at him; he felt his heart go faster. He jerked his hand away, hid them both behind his folded legs.
'Mione gave him a grin. "How about we read a book?"
Severus nodded, his shiny black eyes wide and excited.
"Alright, let's find a good one." Hermione stood up. She offered to help him stand. Severus was too surprised to move. Why was she being so nice?
Hermione smiled at him some more, waiting. Hesitantly, he extended his arm and let her pull him to his feet. The lady did not let go as they looked at the bookshelves.
He wasn't tall enough to look at all the books. So instead, he looked up at her. His chin didn't even reach Hermione's belly. "'Mione, what book do you wan' to read?"
"Well, how about…Beedle the Bard?"
"Okay." His mother had read that to him, once. "Do you like it?"
A smile, with all her teeth, answered him before her words. "I found it very helpful." Severus wasn't sure what she was talking about. Hermione led him to the couch.
There, a boy with black hair met his eye. Severus hid himself behind 'Mione's leg. He definitely did not like that boy.
"Neville, why don't you go play with the girls?" Hermione asked.
As the wizard walked away, 'Mione plopped onto the couch. Her red and gold tie fluttered. Severus twisted his hands behind his back. Lavender tried to smile at the little boy. At first, it looked like a scared, uncomfortable smile. By the time it was a real smile, Severus knew he had been right—nobody liked him.
'Mione hopped to the middle of the couch and slapped the squishy cushion next to her. "Let's hear about Babbity Rabbity and the Cackling Stump." Severus crawled up next to her, on the opposite side of Lavender.
Severus kept his miniscule hands folded on top of his knees. His eyes focused on the page, following with 'Mione's voice. Ten pages later, Severus had found his way into 'Mione's lap.
Ron came back with an armful of Snape's clothes and almost dropped them when he saw Hermione cuddling the Potions Master. She was reading nursery tales to the Bat of the Dungeons.
"This is so bizarre," Ron muttered into Lavender's ear as he kissed her cheek. Lavender nodded.
"We've got the clothes," Luna said to Hermione.
Someone called, "'Ello?" from the door. Professor Weasley came in. "'Ow are you all doing?"
"They're getting sleepy," Lavender replied. The kids had stopped running around to stack blocks as high as they could. Gently, Lavender sat Sybill in the trundle.
"How can we sneak them downstairs?"
"I zink we can Disillusion zem," Fleur said.
Severus clutched Hermione's arm, twisted in her lap so he could look at her. Was 'Mione going to leave him? Was she trying to get rid of him?
"Do you want me to take you to Neville's room?" she asked him.
Severus tried to hide his embarrassed face. "He don' like me. I know it." He wasn't sure which one was named Neville, but neither of those older boys liked him.
Lavender, Fleur, and Ginny looked guilty. Everyone was still afraid of what the tall, imposing professor would do when he returned to normal.
"'E can stay with you, 'Ermione," Fleur whispered, hand resting on the Gryffindor's shoulder. "If you want."
Hermione remembered the last time she had tried to help Professor Snape. He had made it perfectly clear that he did not want anything to do with her. Professor Snape would be so mad…but…she didn't want him to be uncomfortable with Neville….and Neville didn't want Snape with him either…where would he sleep….
Bugger, what should I do? He hates me…
Little Severus slid off of Hermione's lap, curled into a ball. The pale boy was sad and uncomfortable and wouldn't look anybody in the eye.
"Then I guess you'll be stuck sleeping with me," Hermione said to Severus as if it were a punishment for him. "I bet I snore." Oh, God, I hope he doesn't yell at me again.
"Girls don't snore," Minerva said, lolling over the arm of the couch.
Everyone laughed. Severus looked at Minerva and she gave him a big smile. His lips turned upwards in a grin.
"Let's get zem to bed."
Hermione hitched Disillusioned Severus on her back. Seven-year-old Minerva clung to Neville's neck; Neville turned red from lack of oxygen, but didn't seem to mind—he was still able to carry Septima in his arms with Minerva on his back. Fleur and Lavender each carried an infant. Luna held Pomona's hand and Ginny walked behind Rolanda, giving a nudge every now and then. The little girl wanted to stop and talk to all the portraits.
Thankfully they didn't run into anyone, since curfew was so near. How could they possibly explain all these little children suddenly appearing, after the professors had all disappeared for the day?
After a frenzied ten minutes of sorting and shrinking clothes, changing, washing up, and rearranging furniture, the children were ready for bed.
Ginny clapped her hands. "Alright, girls, ready to begin the sleep-over?" The house-elves had located an extra bed frame and mattress in the Slytherin common room. The faint smell of old stone tinkled from the goose-down.
Rolanda and Minerva sat on separate ends of the bed with Septima and Pomona in between them. They all nodded, their chubby cheeks freshly scrubbed.
"Everyone face that way and grab a hair brush," Luna chimed. Luna sat down behind Minerva; the four little ducks brushed each other's hair.
Ginny felt like laughing—she never had a sister, never had a sibling to look after—now she had four.
Minerva had the longest hair, and it was pure, Scottish black. She hummed as she brushed Septima's brown ringlets.
In the next room, Ron and Lavender readied for bed. Lavender sang Sybill a lullaby and set her in the cot. Ron made the bed, tying the curtains open so they could see the baby at all times. Fleur did the same thing, on the second floor, with Aurora Sinistra.
Hermione turned down her crimson and gold covers in her bedroom across the suite. Severus swung his arms, wearing a night shirt that was two sizes too big and black trousers that barely fit.
"Why is your room so red?" he asked. His voice was sweet and curious.
"I'm a Gryffindor," she explained as she fluffed the pillows.
"Am I a Gryffindor?" he asked as Hermione helped him climb up onto the squishy mattress.
"Well, I think you could be," Hermione said, hiding a mischievous grin. "But I think you'd prefer Slytherin."'
"Sli-der-in?" He was peering up at her, tucked into the king-sized bed, his black hair messy around his face.
"Mmhmn."
He dragged the book off the bedside table. "Can I look some more?" he asked.
"Of course you can," Hermione said. How long is he going to be this sweet, innocent, adorable child? Is he going to wake up tomorrow and be a complete arse-hole? They're all going to be so angry when they return to normal—Professor Snape is going to be the worst!
Hermione sat above the covers, leaning against the headboard. Severus turned the pages. His little feet shuffled beneath the quilt.
"'Mione, what's this word?"
Hermione was surprised—he was actually reading. His tiny finger pointed in the middle of the page. "It's 'carnation.' It's a flower." Just how much does he remember?
"Thank you," he said and continued to read.
Look at those long eyelashes—he's so cute! Hermione curled her fists under her chin and watched little Severus read. And polite! His mum must have raised him so well—and that cute little voice! She smiled.
An Hour Later
Hermione smoothed the covers over Severus's sleeping form. She tiptoed across the moonlit room. Before she could shut the door behind her, a bunch of little girls started screaming.
"You're taking up too much of the bed!" Minerva yelled.
"No, you are! Me and Mona are squished!"
Septima covered her ears and scrunched up her eyes, stuck in between the two screamers. Pomona burrowed under the covers. Ginny tried to quiet them all—baby Sybill started wailing in the next room.
Severus peeked out through a crack in the door. "'Mione?" His voice was small. "Who's yelling? Where are you going? Are you coming back?"
Ginny picked up a kicking Hooch, and Luna pulled a clawing McGonagall away from the bed. Neville stood in his doorway, bewildered and distressed. Luna couldn't keep a hold of Minnie. Her green eyes blazed with anger, her seven-year-old feelings pushed to the point of eruption.
Neville picked up his head of house, holding her to his chest. "Calm down," he urged as Luna smoothed down Minerva's hair and shushed her.
"What's going on out here?" Ron hissed as he shut the door to Lavender's room. "What's all this noise about?"
"I don't like Minnie!"
"I don't like 'Landa!"
"You shut up!"
"You shut up, you big mouth!"
"No more name calling!" Ginny demanded. She put Rolanda down. "You two need to get along!"
"She's friends with that freak! It don't make no sense!" Rolanda yelled, pointing at Minnie.
Minnie glared at Rolanda—Ron was reminded of Professor McGonagall when she was disappointed; that look had been sent in his direction many a time.
"Don't call him a freak, you meanie!"
"Neville, take her to your room," Hermione sighed. She kneeled down to be even with Severus. He was quivering in the doorway. "Go back to sleep, Severus."
"Where are you going, 'Mione?" He rubbed his left eye. Those little lips were always frowning.
"I'll be back soon—I have to take a test."
Severus withdrew into the shadows behind the door.
"I'll be back. I promise."
Luna wandered over. "Severus, would you like to help Ronald with the baby?" Luna had never been afraid of Professor Snape.
"Baby?"
Luna offered her hand. "Yes, Baby Sybill. You can hold her—I know you'll be careful."
Severus's big eyes watched Hermione straighten up. He was still trying to hide.
"I'll be back in a little bit—you have fun with Sybill and Ron," Hermione said. Professor Snape kept glancing back at her as Luna led him to Ron's room. Hermione felt guilt bloat in her chest.
Professor Flitwick looked exhausted as he moderated the eleven o'clock Astronomy exam. He had been running around all day, penning letters while watching examinations, then rushing to the owlery at every opportunity. He sent letters to the Hog's Head bar, wondering if Aberforth knew where his brother had gone; Albus's old residence in Godric's Hollow; to Harry Potter at Number 12 Grimmauld Place; to Nicolas Flamel's daughter in Iceland; and even to Minister Shacklebolt.
The descendant of goblins stumped between the rows, his feet tired and aching. He passed Hermione Granger. Since her quill twitched between her middle and first fingers, and her lips parted, he assumed that she was busy double-checking her answers. Had he guessed she was busy triple-checking her answers, he would have been correct.
At the back of the classroom, Filius turned to walk down the other row, returning to the front. Above him, stars and planets twinkled. Aurora's classroom had been charmed, as had the Great Hall; except her classroom always saw stars, regardless of the time of day. Next year he would try to convince Albus to schedule this exam for a decent hour.
Luna flipped her exam over, placing her quill on top of it. She was done. Professor Flitwick paused at her shoulder. "Remain in the hall so that we may speak, Miss Lovegood." The Head Girl nodded. Luna swung her student robes over her uniform as she walked towards the drafty hallway. Hermione met her a few minutes later.
Professor Flitwick shut the door behind him. At the top of the stairs, he turned to face his two brightest pupils. "How are you all doing? Are…they alright?"
Luna said, "Madam Hooch and Professor McGonagall keep fighting about Professor Snape."
Flitwick twiddled his drooping moustache. "I see."
"Did they argue as adults?" Hermione asked.
"Rolanda has always distrusted Severus. She once blamed him for Charity's death."
"Do you think they all subconsciously remember things from their adult days?" Luna questioned.
Hermione chewed on her thumb. "That seems very likely. Their adult minds are still in there, somewhere. Professor Snape can read fairly large words." All three of them were thinking about the problem. A few more students left the exam room.
"How are the smallest two?" Flitwick asked, sotto voce.
Hermione said, "Fleur has Professor Sinistra and Lavender has been all over Professor Trelawney all day."
"I see. And…none of them have…changed? Aged, at all?"
The girls shook their heads.
"I see," he sighed. "Try to have a pleasant night, Miss Lovegood, Miss Granger."
