Mental Connections

When they arrived back at Hogwarts with their Muggle loot, Snape was seething and Hermione's fear of Snape was morphing into fury towards Dumbledore.

Whose idea was it to buy Muggle objects? Arthur Weasley.

Whose disastrous idea was it to send Professors Hermione Granger and Severus Snape to Muggle London to 'enjoy themselves'? Albus Dumbledore, the old coot.

They were back and livid and exhausted and about ready to storm the Headmaster's office. They glanced at each other and, for a moment, mentally connected.

Attack Dumbledore it is.

Mutual hate can be the foundation for a very prosperous, long-lasting friendship.

So they charged, past the gates, through the main doors, through the Entrance Hall, and up the stairs. They both reached the gargoyle at the base of Dumbledore's office at the same time and looked at each other again. Another mental connection.

"Chocolate Frogs-"

"Canary Cream-"

"Acid Pops-"

"Jelly Slugs-"

"Pepper Imps-"

"Lemon Drops-"

"Cauldron Cakes-"

"Exploding bon-bons-"

"Chocoballs-"

"Fudge Flies-"

"…-"

They had finally exhausted their remaining combined brainpower. Now onto their magical reserves:

"Reducto!"

"Diffindo!"

"Depulso!"

"Confringo!"

"Sectumsempra!" They both bellowed.

They stared. Nothing worked. Bloody gargoyle.

"Albus!" Snape roared, "Open this door now, or I will slip you a potion which makes your hair fall off. Everything single hair!"

Hermione sniggered. "I wouldn't mind seeing that."

The gargoyle, with not even a single scratch, suddenly leaped aside as if set on fire. The two had a third moment of mental connection and marched up the stairs. They arrived at the office, wands out, about to hex the Headmaster's hair off.

"Why, welcome back!" Dumbledore greeted cheerfully. "Did you enjoy yourselves?"

"Albus…." Snape growled, his canines bared threateningly.

"I am so glad you two made it back safely," His twinkle diminishing slightly. "Tell me all about your tr-"

"Headmaster," Hermione sliced through his words acidly. Her usual tone of respect was blaringly absent.

The room temperature dropped several degrees.

"Well…you seem rather tired," Dumbledore's smile now began to look forced, finally realising the danger he was in. "Shall I let you two retire for the night?"

Trying to regain her calm, and failing, she dumped their purchases on Dumbledore's desk with a loud clank, on top of his organized mess of papers. Oh, was that something important that just fell off the desk? "We have completed your 'request'," Hermione bit out. "We certainly enjoyed ourselves today. We would be happy to 'discuss' our adventures with you."

"Yes, Albus," Snape purred, all velvet and steel, "We had such a delightful time today, and it would be our pleasure to share with you what we have learned of Muggle London," Snape continued with a barely-suppressed, nasty smirk. "I believe tomorrow after breakfast is an opportune time for us to take another field trip."

"Ahh, thank you for your kind offer, but…I seem to recall a meeting scheduled for tomorrow morning…" Dumbledore improvised, his eyes shifting nervously between the two smirking professors. "I-I believe with Minerva…"

"Oh wonderful!" Hermione said with mock excitement. "I'm sure Professor McGonagall would love to join us."

"Y-Yes…about that…it is a matter that must be taken care of within the castle…" Dumbledore's face took on a falsely grave expression. "It seems we have discovered an…emergency situation. It needs to be seen to immediately," He regained some of his confidence. "The danger it poses may be detrimental to the school. We shall discuss this matter at a later date."

"What a shame-" Snape started again, eyes glittering dangerously and defiantly.

The Headmaster cut in quickly before Snape could say more. "Ah, I believe Fawkes is feeling a bit under the weather. I must examine him immediately. Have a pleasant evening. Good night," And with that, he rushed out with as much dignity as he could.

Silence.

Headmaster Phineas Nigellus Black's portrait snickered. "Well done, it has been quite a while since I have seen Albus so unhinged. He didn't even have a moment to offer you those galling lemon drops of his," He snorted. "You two have earned my utmost respect. Yes, even you, Gryffindor. I hope to see another such show in the near future."

Hermione and Snape both deflated. Their cold anger had seeped away to irritation and exhaustion. Hermione collapsed into a chair while Snape leaned back against the wall. They shared an odd moment of quiet triumph. Only the steady ticking of an unknown magical instrument interrupted the silence.

"I believe there is nothing more we can accomplish tonight. Shall we go?" Snape finally said in resignation. He straightened his posture, a blank face. It was like a chalk board which had been wiped clean. No expression other than its dark background.

Hermione picked up the bag of Muggle electronics from the desk and nodded, too tired to speak. They headed down the steps wearily and past the infuriating gargoyle which seemed to watch them leave with amusement. Before they separated to their private quarters, Hermione hesitated and inquired softly, "Would you be free to meet up tomorrow, after lunch, to fiddle with these?" She raised the bag.

Snape paused in thought. "Yes, I am available," Then briskly, "We shall meet in the Room of Requirement after lunch and examine them to the best of our abilities."

"There are several things in here that would be helpful to our daily lives if we succeed in getting them to work," Hermione added sheepishly. "I thought that if we had to suffer Muggle London, we should at least get something out of it. See you tomorrow then?"

"Very well," He turned stiffly and stalked down to the dungeons.

"Good night…" She returned softly with a tired smile.

Mutual hate indeed.

A/N: Fawkes, sick? Hah!

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