Chapter Three: Anybody Got An Outlet?
During the weekends students were busy studying for tests and exams that were coming up for their O.W.L.s and N.E.W.T.s. The teachers were also very busy writing out their teaching schedules and reviewing tasks the students would have to practice before they were tested. All in all most weekends were very busy indeed. But for some students that didn't mean all was work and no play.
Fred and George had their own business with jokes and Skiving Snack boxes with other surprising sweets thrown in.
"Get your canary creams, only three sickles each…" Fred showed some to the second years while George on the other end of the Gryffindor common room was working the first years.
"Try a tongue-twisting treacle—no, I mean that literally and don't you dare steal from me you little runt!" George turned around and smacked a dark haired boy's hand out of his pocket where he kept some of the un-tested candy. "Lucky for you I'm not distracted easily!" he mumbled as the boy sped off.
"Hey George!" Fred called.
"Huh?" He turned around again while fending off the kids who had no money. "Get back, if you don't have the galleons you don't get the goodies".
Fred came over jingling the coins in his purse pocket. "That's three sets of canary creams I've sold so far. How about you?"
"No luck. How am I supposed to sell to first years who haven't got the money?" George cast them a dirty look before he spotted Hermione who was rushing over with her Prefect badge gleaming in the light of the room like a beacon of self-righteousness. "Quick, hide this!" He stuffed the candy in Fred's hands and stepped in front of him while Fred furiously tried to stuff the goods in his purse pocket where it magically shrank inside of it.
"I saw you selling illegal contents to those students over there!" Hermione pointed imperiously to the second years who were still covered in feathers.
"Illegal contents, now really. Don't you think you're being over-dramatic?" George laughed.
"Yeah, just a bit…" Fred finished stuffing the candy away and they were safely in the pocket purse.
Hermione only stood there with her hands on her hips while Neville came up beside her.
"I'll have you know I can not only confiscate the candy you sold but I can also take away the money you received too!"
"You wouldn't". George dared.
"That's thieving. It's our money from our products—" Fred exclaimed.
"Which are not safe!" she butted in.
"It's not part of the school rules that they have to be checked with authorities first."
"Oh really?" Hermione looked furious but Neville only stood there with an amused look on his face.
"Section four hundred and thirty-seven Article fifteen Line thirty-six states: Any item or possession thereof of any student, teacher or being of this said school (i.e. Hogwarts) shall be the sole responsibility of the owner including but not limited to personal possessions, objects of value or products from said person's own hand, money or gift that is brought in or given to the owner who then has the right to relinquish, sell or give in accordance with Article fifty-three and Section one hundred and seven for any period of time or such as said owner of that possession chooses and shall not be taken by force except by those accorded such rights under Section three thousand two hundred and sixty one." Fred finally finished smugly.
"What is that from?" Hermione was clearly at a loss and was surprised at the long list that Fred had memorized and at his apparent knowledge of the school's rules.
"The Memorandum Accordium of the Hogwarts Regulatum, otherwise known as the Book of Rules for Hogwarts." George explained.
"I've never heard of it." Hermione crossed her arms and Neville nodded in agreement.
"Well it's been outdated for about four hundred years but some of the rules still apply." George smiled and Fred elaborated, "We checked it and it's perfectly legal for us to sell our products to the students!"
Hermione stood there for a long moment, staring them down while they both smiled smugly until she finally answered, "I'm going to look up Section three thousand two hundred and sixty one and see for myself what I'm allowed to confiscate." With that she marched off while Neville followed her to the Library.
"Do you think she'll find the Section where it says Prefects can pretty much do whatever they want?" George asked.
"Yeah, I think so. But it will be a long while before she does and by that time we'll have sold all our products!" Fred laughed and went back to the students shouting, "Get your Canary Creams and Skiving Snack Boxes while you can!"
---
Neville was sitting behind a wall of books that Hermione had laid out in front of them. He had tried to talk her out of this enormous task when the Librarian, Madame Pince, had told Hermione that the only single copy of the Memorandum Accordium was in the Ministry of Magic and the only copy (or rather copies) Hogwarts had were scattered around the Library because of their un-organized labeling.
"The last time I sorted those books was when I came here in my third year. I was given the task of shelving new books in the Library and repairing the old ones as I also categorized all the old books here." Madame Pince's voice was gravelly and Neville thought it must have been a hundred years ago since she was a third year at Hogwarts.
"What did you do to get such a bad detention?" Neville couldn't help himself and was curious about Madame Pince. She certainly didn't seem like the rowdy type.
"It was an honor given to me by the Headmaster Augustus Rowan Bartleby." She turned quickly to Neville and gave him a dirty look before she pointed a wand at the top book on the top shelf and made it go onto the table with a loud slam. "Anything else you need?" If she had been a real vulture she surely would have pecked his eyes out.
"No, thank you." Hermione answered with a nervous shake of her head and grabbed the heavy book to take back to the other fifty books stacked onto the table. When they were settled she whispered to Neville, "You shouldn't have said that!"
Neville shrunk back and Hermione sighed, "Normally, she's not so talkative but I suppose she thinks of me as something like a kindred spirit…" She rolled her eyes and went back to work.
Neville thought he heard the table give an ominous creaking groan under the weight of all the books.
When they had sorted through their fiftieth book Neville asked, "Is this what you do for fun?"
"Hmm?" Hermione was still engrossed in the book and then looked up at him. "What do you mean?"
"Is this your outlet?" he asked.
"Yes, I suppose it is. I find books quite calming and very interesting."
"Oh." He didn't say anything for a moment then asked again, "I guess Fred and George's business is their outlet." He looked back at Hermione who didn't say anything but was looking at a book entitled, The Other Side of Wizard History: What Really Happened and to Whom?. It seemed Hermione had given up on Section three thousand and whatever, at least for now.
---
All the students at Hogwarts had their afternoon activities and clubs. There was Quidditch, which was number one for sports and popularity, Gobstones and the Charms club. On rainy days students would be playing Wizard's Chess and Exploding Snap indoors and Quidditch. On sunny days students would usually be outside enjoying the sun, walking down to the lake to read and relax or play Quidditch. This weekend had been particularly nice but as usual while the students were outside, Severus Snape was inside and in the dungeons.
He had been pouring over his Potion books and a few Dark Arts books when he heard a knock on the door.
"What is it?" he growled. Severus hated being interrupted.
The door opened and for some strange reason Albus Dumbledore was standing there.
"I have no idea why you put such powerful charms on your door, Severus. I can't imagine any student wanting to break into your office."
"Such break-ins have happened before," he answered. "What do you want?"
Ignoring Severus' rude tone Albus answered, "I just wanted to see if you would like to join me in a game of croquet on the lawn. Pomona has set up some lovely hedge barriers and we're playing in the traditional non-magical way, though with a little wizard magic thrown in. How about it, Severus?"
"I'd rather not." He resumed his reading again.
"But it's such a nice day outside…" Albus looked askance at Severus who did not look up from his book of, Grisly Deaths by Gruesome Means, a particularly nasty Dark Arts book. "It would be good for you to get outside I think and get some sunshine."
"I'll stay here thanks."
"Suit yourself. If you would like to join us later…" Albus saw it was a lost cause though and made his way out of the office.
"Finally some peace and quiet." Severus mumbled to himself. All he liked to do on a day like this was read his dark books and be left alone. He hated sunny days.
---
Neville had excused himself from Hermione's quest to find the mysterious rule book and its equally mysterious Section three thousand something.
He had looked for Harry and Ron but had remembered they were playing Quidditch and wouldn't be back until dinner. Unfortunately, Neville had detention tonight and he would be serving it after dinner so there wouldn't be time for him to hang out with them. Luna was in Charms club and Ginny was off somewhere, probably with a boy. There was really no one there for him to talk to.
Whenever he was alone like this he would usually go to the Herbology classroom out in the garden houses but Professor Sprout wasn't there and neither was Hagrid when Neville walked to his hut. Even his dog Fang wasn't there.
Neville was lonely and bored and didn't know what to do.
He had some Charms homework to do and so worked on that until it was finished but when he looked up at the clock it was still an hour before dinner.
Neville tapped his quill against some blank parchment until he got up and headed out of the Gryffindor room and down the stairs. Without really caring where he went he walked along the hallways and into corridors and even ventured behind a curtain that he was sure he had seen before but had forgotten where it went. He then found himself on another floor and it was soaking wet.
Wondering where all the water came from he followed it until it led into the girl's bathroom. He opened the door and called in, "Hello?"
He didn't really expect a friendly answer, after all he was a boy in a girl's bathroom but he wasn't prepared for the rude comment flown back at him.
"Why don't you get out of the girl's bathroom and go jump in the lake then stay there?"
"Excuse me?" Neville went inside and got his robes wet as he sloshed his way to the toilet where he heard the voice.
"I said get out!"
This girl was really rude, whoever she was, Neville thought to himself.
"I'm sorry but I was just wondering where all this water came from…" His question was soon answered as a spay of water fell onto him and a floating specter came out of the toilet in the cubicle he was facing.
"Ewww, toilet water! Gross!" Neville shook the water from his hair.
"What do you want?" A pale girl was facing him wearing glasses and a grumpy look on her face.
"Sorry to bother you uh… what's your name?" Neville shyly asked.
"What do you care what my name is? What does anyone care about me?" She wailed.
"Um, I care." he offered.
"No, you don't!" she spat back.
He really didn't have a defense for that.
"I'm stuck here all alone and no one ever comes to see me! It's so boring being alone with no one to talk to!" The ghost moaned.
"I know what it's like, I'm also—"
"I'm talking here!" She interrupted then continued, "I've had to stay here ever since I died and I can't go anywhere anymore! Why is my life so horrible?"
"I'm sorry. Maybe I should go…" He stared edging his way out of the girl's bathroom when the ghost shot back at him,
"Fine, go ahead then. Leave me all alone! What do you care since I'm dead already!"
Neville winced as she wailed again and tried to apologize, "Sorry, I'll stay if you like."
"I don't even know you and you're not supposed to be in the girl's bathroom!" She floated toward him and he backed away.
"Uh, I'll just go then, shall I?" Neville was uncertain as to what he should do. She seemed lonely but didn't want him to stay. It seemed there was nothing he could do to make her happy. She seemed to like being miserable.
"Go, just go! Leave me alone!" She started sobbing again and when Neville closed the door on her he could still hear her all the way down the stairs.
In his hurry to get away from the moaning ghost he forgot the way back and was waiting for the stairs to swing back but when he managed to get onto them they swung down instead of up. No matter how many times he repeated, "Gryffindor Tower", the stairs would not budge.
Neville accepted his fate and walked down the corridors. They seemed to be heading down to the dungeons but when he turned the corner it was brightly lit and he was facing a painting of fruit.
"Now what?"
He was lost and didn't know where to go. He wished the painting had been of a person or being that he could ask directions from instead of a bowl of fruit. He didn't think a bowl of fruit could answer him, no matter how magically enchanted it was.
Neville leaned against the painting, willing it to somehow change into a map but nothing happened. He slid his hand off the pear before he heard a shrill giggle.
"Huh?"
He looked again at the painting and saw that it had swung open like a door. For a moment he debated whether to just head back upstairs because if he went inside the door to somewhere else he would be worse off for sure.
"Oh well, can't get much worse than this can it?" Neville held his breath and went inside.
On his way down the narrow stairs he bumped his head on the low ceiling before he saw where he was. It was a huge kitchen and beyond the doorway it opened up all the way to the sky just like the Great Hall.
"Excuse me, sir." A house-elf brushed by him carrying a tray of ingredients for cooking and more of them were busy chopping vegetables and stirring pots of soup and sauces. They all looked up at him and gave a short nod of greeting before returning to their work.
"Wow". Neville couldn't believe it. He had found the secret entrance to the kitchens. Trying not to disturb the house-elves, he made his way to a corner where a small table laid with left over elf sized plates was standing near a pile of blankets. Neville propped up the blankets a bit before he sat down. Immediately he leapt up as a loud screech came from under where he was sitting.
Right before his eyes the pile of blankets unwound themselves and a very disgruntled house-elf was staring at him through its bleary eyes.
"I'm so sorry, I didn't know you were under there." Neville offered his apology but the house-elf still glared at him.
"Sorry sir, so sorry, sir." Another house-elf came whizzing by and it tried to move the disgruntled one who wouldn't budge.
"Why is Dobby being so rude?" Neville guessed from her voice it was a she and the other one must've been Dobby.
"Hey, I've heard of you. Harry's talked about you."
"Oh yes, Harry Potter." Dobby turned around and his eyes gleamed with happiness, "He talks of me?" He gave a squeal of joy before he continued, "You know Harry Potter, sir?"
"Yes, I'm his classmate in Gryffindor." Neville smiled shyly at the unaccustomed politeness he was receiving.
"Dobby is glad, sir. You must be a good friend." Dobby rushed over to hug him around the stomach and he laughed.
"Yeah, I guess." Dobby finally released him and went about moving the disgruntled elf who had settled down again. "I didn't mean to sit on her. I didn't mean to wake her up like that."
"Winky should not sleep in the kitchens." Dobby poked her awake and she stubbornly wrapped the blanket around her. "She has been drinking again, sir. Please don't think ill of her…" Dobby apologized.
"Oh no. Don't worry about it. That's ok." Neville found himself a very small chair and gingerly sat himself down on it.
Winky suddenly sat up and stared Dobby down. "Dobby is not defending me! I am a good elf! You are a bad elf, Dobby! Bad, bad!" she squeaked.
Dobby only gave a nervous laugh. "Winky likes to yell at Dobby and drink, sir. That is her—how do you say, Out Will?"
"Um, you mean outlet?" Neville suggested.
"Yes, yes, her out-let. Ever since she—"
"Dobby will shut up now!" Winky snarled and laid back down again.
Dobby gave another apologizing nod before he started to clean up the dishes on the small table left over from the night before.
"Do you work all the time in the kitchens?" Neville asked.
"Oh most of the time, sir." Dobby magically Dissaparated the dishes into the wash sink then wiped the table clean. "We also clean the castle, light the fires, change the beds, wash the windows, wash the dishes, dust the rooms and the shelves, heat the beds at night, cook the meals—and many other things." He finished nervously.
"Wow, that's a lot. I don't think I could do all of that." It made Neville's head spin to think of that much work.
Dobby only nodded. "Would you like something to eat and drink, sir?"
"Huh? Oh no, thanks." He looked at his watch. "It's almost dinner anyway." He noticed the frantic speed at which the elves were working on the food now and wanted to excuse himself but then thought of something.
"Do house-elves get breaks?"
"Yes, we get bathroom breaks, meal breaks and sleep breaks, sir."
"That's it?"
Dobby nodded.
Neville chewed his lip and thought about Hermione's S.P.E.W. project and wished he was more involved now. "Don't house-elves want more breaks than that?"
"Oh no, sir." Dobby shook his head. "We aren't wanting more time than is necessary for work. But—" he looked around before answering, "Dobby likes to have some free time and go to the Gryffindor room to see if Harry Potter is there or to watch him at his Quid-tich through the windows. Otherwise Dobby is adding to his collection of clothes." He proudly showed his shocking pink shirt and lime green shorts underneath his Hogwarts toga.
Neville smiled at him though a few other house-elves had given disapproving looks at Dobby.
"Dobby must be getting to work now, sir."
"Yeah, ok. Thanks Dobby." Neville got up to leave.
"For what, sir?"
"Thanks for talking to me. Everyone else was busy."
Dobby smiled and nodded as Neville left the kitchens.
---
Dinner was remarkably short and Neville tried to finish it as slowly as he could but at the same time he didn't want to be late for his detention and risk Snape's anger.
Ron was busy stuffing food down and Harry was busy going over the Quidditch moves in his head and Hermione looked like she had finally found the book she was looking for, it was bigger than two dinner plates and took up twice as much room. Neville found himself finishing his dinner in silence before excusing himself.
"Well, back to detention." Everyone had given a short nod but that was it. Neville was on his own again as he went down to the dungeons.
When he got there he knocked on the door but no one answered. Tentatively he opened the door to the dungeon classroom where his detention was supposed to be but there was no one inside. He then walked down to Snape's office and stopped at the door. Against his will he knocked. There was no answer.
He knocked again before the door swung open and Snape stood there, glaring at him.
"What do you want? Why are you bothering me now?" Snape growled at him.
"It's my detention, sir. It's after dinner time."
Snape's hand slid from the door he was holding as he stared off into space for a moment before he finally swore, "Damn it!"
It seemed with whatever Professor Snape was doing, he had forgotten about Neville's detention. If only Neville had had the sense to have gone back to dinner after seeing the classroom was empty instead of going to Snape's office.
It was too bad he wasn't allowed to swear as Snape had done.
"Hurry up and get in here then!" Snape slammed the door shut, making Neville wince, as he made his way back to the desk.
It was clear that Snape had been in the middle of reading as he continued from the marked place within the big moldy book that was spread out on the desk.
"Remove those jars," he pointed a long bony finger to the glass cabinet in the corner, "and dust each of those shelves—without magic—and if you so much as crack open a jar, my next specimen will be your entrails—do you understand?"
"Yes, sir." Neville gulped but Snape only sneered and went back to his book.
Neville was very careful to move the jars without breaking them and had done each of them one by one until the shelf was clear to dust. Although the jars were clean enough the shelves were filthy and grimy with years of dirt. Though he scrubbed with the rag it only spread the soil around. Dusting may have been the wrong term because it seemed Neville would have to literally scrape all the accumulated muck off and some of it looked like dried blood.
He nervously looked back at Snape but he didn't seemed to be paying any attention to Neville and was thoroughly immersed in his book.
The cloth he was using was already black and sticky by the time he had tried to clean the shelves and now the tacky substance was sticking to his hands. There was no basin for him to wash his hands in and he didn't dare ask Snape to be excused, it seemed Snape didn't like being interrupted when he was reading. So instead, Neville tried to wipe his hands on his robes.
It didn't work but only made his robes stick to his hands. He flapped his robes about while trying to free his hands then stopped as he glanced at Snape.
Snape was still reading and had leaned his head on his hand, absolutely absorbed in what looked like to Neville to be a morbid book of torture.
At last, Neville pulled his hands free and decided to put the jars back onto the shelf. It didn't look like Snape was going to check his work, at least not now. Neville knew he would pay for his bad work later but he just wanted to get out and leave Snape to his awful book.
One by one he put the jars back as he had done when he had taken them off. He even tried to put them back in the same order as they were before and when he was finished it looked like it did when he started.
Nervously, he looked back at Professor Snape and whispered very softly, "I'm done, sir."
Snape didn't look up from his book and didn't answer.
Neville tried again, a little bit louder this time after he cleared his throat, "Uh... ahem, I'm done, sir."
"What?" Snape snarled and finally looked up.
Neville stood there ready to be hexed any moment as Snape looked up at the jars and saw that none were broken.
"Get out."
Neville left and didn't look back on his way out of the office.
---
It was after eleven o'clock when Severus Snape rubbed his tired eyes and shut his book. After carefully locking his Dark Arts books away in the other cabinet, he walked over to the glowing glass jars on the open shelf and looked them over. They were almost in the same order.
Damn that boy, he thought as he grabbed the jar with the suspended two-headed snake in it.
I'm going to—
But that train of thought was cut off as he found the jar stuck to the shelf.
"What the hell?" He tried to wrench it free but it resolutely stuck there and refused to move a millimeter. With another curse he tried another jar but found it stuck as well.
"Fine then!" Severus took out his wand and pointed it at the poisonous toad jar and muttered, "Lubricio!"
Unfortunately, it had flown off but not before it took a chunk of the shelf with it. Severus deftly caught the jar in his hand and stared at the splintered wood on the bottom of it.
It turned out the dust on top of the layer of dirt and grime was the only thing keeping the jars unstuck until Neville had cleaned it off.
When he was done getting all the jars unstuck from the grimy shelves Severus was going to need a new cabinet.
"Damn it!"
His temper was like a short fuse and he didn't have many outlets for it. All he had were his Dark Arts books that he liked to read and other than collecting interesting specimens in glass jars and tormenting students there wasn't much else for him to do for fun.
Why did everyone have to spoil his fun?
He stood there gritting his teeth and clenching his fists around the glass jar until he finally slammed it down on the desk and stalked out of his office.
---
Dobby was finishing his night time duties of cleaning up and preparing for the next day's chores when a voice summoned him.
"Bring me hot cocoa—no whipped cream!"
"Yes, sir." Dobby answered and quickly obeyed. He was used to taking orders in the middle of the night. Dumbledore always liked hot cocoa sometimes and McGonagall usually liked to have a thimble full of spirits in hers but Dobby always knew that the only person who ordered hot cocoa without cream wasn't Filch but someone equally (if not more) detestable and though Dobby would never speak ill of any teacher of Hogwarts this one was the exception. But Dobby obeyed because Dobby respected his position very much and wanted to stay at Hogwarts.
Within a few minutes Dobby was at the door of the dungeons and had knocked on the door before the person he detested so much answered and took the cocoa without so much as a single nod or acknowledgement to him. Dobby shook his head in exasperation and went back to the kitchens, keeping his thoughts to himself rather than risk muttering them aloud in case he was overheard.
---
Severus slurped his hot cocoa slowly as he sat back in his chair, pondering Neville's next punishment for the last week. He hadn't exactly done as Dumbledore asked in teaching Neville to control himself but if the boy couldn't cope with the pressure then too bad. If you couldn't take the heat you should step back from the cauldron, as the saying went.
He finished the last of the cocoa as it had cooled down and set it aside. He should have carefully checked to make sure there was no milk in the cocoa either as he was lactose intolerant but it was too late now.
However, if he were to wake up in the morning with abominable cramps he had a poison ready to give to that blasted elf, just in case. The symptoms of the poison would be much worse compared to what he suffered from milk and it was also undetectable. Though it would wear off in a few hours the symptoms would remain and he knew how bad it could be because he was the one who created the poison.
Although he was not the most liked person or student in school, he was smart and Severus soon found out that was all you needed to succeed in life—no matter what other people said to you or did.
---
His knowledge in Potions came very handy one day when a certain be-speckled black-haired idiot and his gang were bothering him. They seemed to think his lactose intolerance was very funny and had force-fed him a whole glass bottle of it while he was pinned to the ground by the large and stupid rat-faced Pettigrew.
Of course, when he was done vomiting and writhing in pain from his stomach cramps he soon had his revenge.
None of them had ever suspected that Argus Filch, the Squib who was beginning care-taking duties then, had slipped the powder that Severus had prepared into their pumpkin juice. It was a concoction of a laxative mixed with different herbal and creature ingredients to also create a vomiting effect.
Severus had the last laugh as Potter, Black, Pettigrew and Lupin ran from the Great Hall, making a mess from both ends at once.
---
These happy thoughts followed him to sleep until the next morning when he got up.
For Severus, Sunday was no better than the day before.
---
Next Chapter: Neville still has to find an outlet (I'll take suggestions!). I might mix some of the Love and Chocolates story with this one… if I can't come up with new ideas. How did you like my really long legal jargon back there with Fred and George? Right now I'm listening to "Dance of the Knights" by Sergei Prokofiev—really inspirational for wicked stories.