Chapter Twenty-nine

The Great Lemon Drop Caper

"Ginny, if you ask one more question about it, I'm going to hex you," Hermione said wearily, leaning back in her chair. They were sitting in the guest room; Draco was working at one of the desks, speaking to them very little and only approaching them to swap books, and Hermione was at the other desk, Harry and Ginny on either side of her, sitting in armchairs they'd dragged over, Ginny doing her best to get information out of Harry and Harry doing his best to ignore her. They had been searching for hours, but had yet to find a single thing on blocking visions. Hermione was ready to give up; she had her written and practical exams for Arithmancy in the afternoon, and she, Harry, and Draco would have to take their written exams for Defense Against the Dark Arts in the morning and Transfiguration in the evening. She was fairly certain she could stand to lose the studying time—and there would be time in the morning, anyway—but the last thing she wanted to do was research. Her clothes were damp from all the rolling around in the snow she'd done, she was mourning the loss of the Snitch (Harry had taken it from her and thrown it back in the box just before dragging her back to the castle) and her mind kept drifting back to Draco. She kept second-guessing his intentions on the Quidditch pitch, and the fact that he was just as worried as Harry was about the visions was a lot more disturbing. There were plenty of things that would worry Harry, and even more that would worry Malfoy, but very few that would worry Harry and Malfoy. They didn't exactly have a lot in common.

All Hermione really wanted to do was head for the prefects' bathroom, take a nice long bath, and read Hogwarts: A History a little before getting a good night's rest, none of which she could actually do, not with Draco tied to her wrist, Harry flipping out, Ginny digging for gossip and Hermione's new unpleasant memories of the prefects' bathroom.

Ginny sighed. "Fine. You're not going to tell me anything. Not yet, anyway. But you're going to have to spill eventually—about Quidditch practice, about this cheese monster in Snape's cla—"

"SNAPE!" Draco yelled suddenly, making Harry drop his book and Hermione draw her wand in surprise; they'd almost forgotten Draco was there. Draco tossed the book he was reading over his shoulder and stood up. "Snape! Of course! Who would know more about these cheese visions than he would?"

"Now there's an idea," Hermione said thoughtfully, too tired to care that it was Draco who came up with it. "We'll go ask him in the morning, Harry."

"Screw the morning!" Draco exclaimed. "I'm going now."

"It's after curfew," Hermione pointed out.

"Good point. I'll get the cloak," Harry said, nodding at her and practically running for his trunk.

"That's not what I meant," Hermione said in exasperation. "Let's just wait until tomorrow, Harry."

"And have another dream again tonight? No, thank you," Harry said, already digging through his trunk. "I'm going, Hermione, with or without you."

"Without, then," she told him irritably.

"With," Draco said firmly. "I'm not EVER seeing… what I saw… again. EVER."

"Only one of you needs to go if you're suffering from the same thing," Hermione snapped.

"Oh, and I'm supposed to trust Potter to tell it to me straight? That's a laugh."

"Well, I'm not going, and you can't make me."

"Wanna bet?"

"Yes, I do," Hermione said coolly, fingering her wand.

"Ah, found it!" Harry, who hadn't been listening, stood up with the invisibility cloak and the Marauder's Map in one hand and his Sneakoscope in the other. "We'd better take this—" he indicated the Sneakoscope— "just in case Snape tries to lie to us."

"Harry, it can wait until morning," Hermione insisted.

"Is that an invisibility cloak?" Draco demanded, his tone accusing and indignant. Harry nodded. "So THAT'S how you've been doing it all these years! You little cheater! That's how you've been able to stay out of trouble!"

"Oh, shut up," Harry growled, rolling his eyes. "Hermione, we'll take the cloak and then no one will see us."

"You're desperate enough to let Malfoy use your cloak?" Ginny said in shock. "Wow. The visions MUST be bad."

Harry shot her a dirty look and set the cloak and map on Hermione's bed, tucking the Sneakoscope into his pocket. "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good," he said, tapping the map with his wand. "Snape… Snape… not in his office, not in his classroom… where is he?" Harry scanned the map for a few moments, furrowing his brow. Hermione prayed that Snape had gone to Hogsmeade or something, but no such luck; Harry jabbed his finger at the map triumphantly. "Ah, there he is! Snape's in McGonagall's office with her… and Wood, it looks like."

"What are they doing in there together?" Ginny asked, coming over to look.

"The map doesn't exactly say," Harry reminded her. He was surprised to learn during his sixth year that Ginny, whom the twins viewed as a real protégé, had known all about the map and its powers; the twins had told her all about it and its whereabouts. "But they're there, which is a good thing for us… it's not as far away as the dungeon. The trick will be to get Snape on his own; I, for one, don't want Wood and McGonagall knowing what's going on."

"I could cause a diversion," Ginny offered. "Say there's something wrong in Snape's classroom or something and get him to leave the office."

"That should do it, but don't use his classroom; you're supposed to be in Gryffindor Tower. Think up another excuse on the way," Harry said. He pointed at a spot on the map near McGonagall's "Oh, and try and get him to come over here, to this secret passage; we should be able to hide in there and wait for him. If he doesn't come within fifteen minutes, we'll head down to the Potions ro—"

"Will you listen to yourself?" Draco interrupted. "You sound like a general planning a battle or something. This isn't sneaking out after curfew; it's guerrilla warfare. Can we just get moving?"

"We won't all fit under the cloak," Hermione pointed out.

"I'll walk outside it," Ginny said. "You'll have the map to watch for teachers, and if I get seen, I can always just say that I'm on my way to find Snape."

"I'm not going," Hermione repeated. "I'm going to take a shower and go to bed."

"You've had enough showers this weekend to last you for the rest of your life," Harry told her. "Hermione, we need you. You've got sway with Snape."

"Teaming up for a prank doesn't mean make me his bestest friend in the whole wide world," Hermione said testily.

Draco grabbed her arm. "You're coming with us."

Hermione wrapped her feet around the legs of her chair and held tightly to the seat. "No, I'm not."

"Yes, you are."

"Make me."

Draco and Hermione entered into a fierce glaring contest for a few moments before Draco finally growled and seized the back of her chair. "Fine, I'll make you," he snapped. "Come on, Potter."

Harry stuffed the cloak and map into his robes; they'd learned that it was best to put on the cloak in the corridor when they had to sneak out so early in the night, so that they didn't bump into anyone in the common room on their way out and announce the fact that Harry owned an invisibility cloak. Gryffindors weren't prone to tattling, especially not on curfew violators, when chances were they'd get in trouble themselves for leaving the common room after curfew.

Hermione yelped as Draco jerked her chair, tilted it backwards, and began to drag her towards the door, chair and all. She tried to lift her hand from the seat to get out her wand, but the chair gave a slight lurch and she clutched the seat again, afraid of losing her balance. "Harry! Help!" she called.

"Sorry, Hermione," Harry said apologetically. "If Snape's gone back to his former self, you might be the only person who can get any answers out of him."

"Harry! How could you! You're… you're COOPERATING with MALFOY!"

Harry froze, looking green. After a long pause, he started following her and Draco again. "Sorry, Hermione," he said, "but if all goes well, I'll NEVER… cooperate… with Malfoy again."

Hermione gaped at him. There was something he wasn't telling her—probably something to do with the visions—but the fact that he would actually LET Draco Malfoy cart her around was far more astonishing.

"Never a dull moment," Ginny muttered as she followed Harry, Hermione and Draco to the door.

Draco pulled her out into the corridor, paused only momentarily for the door to open up, and then dragged her out into the common room. Dozens of students of all years were still awake, studying for the end-of-term tests; everyone looked up eagerly at the sound of the wall opening, then stared as Draco dragged a grumbling Hermione towards the door, walking backwards and keeping both hands on the chair back. "What?" he snapped at all the staring Gryffindors. No one said anything.

Draco kept walking towards the portrait hole… smack into another person. Draco turned to look over his shoulder… and promptly gulped and turned Hermione around so that she was between him and three glaring Weasleys.

Hermione swallowed hard as she stared up at Ron, who was flanked by Fred and George, all of them with their arms folded over their chests and furious expressions on their faces.

"R-Ron?" she said tentatively.

"I just want you to know, Hermione," Ron snarled, "that you can sic your lovesick little tagalongs and your favorite teacher on me all you want, because you don't scare me, and neither do McGonagall, Snape and Wood."

"Uh… wha?" Hermione said intelligently.

"You know perfectly well what I'm talking about," Ron growled.

"We don't appreciate Snape, McGonagall and Wood singing to us," George said coldly.

"Or grabbing our shoulders," Fred added.

"Or yelling 'Feliz Navidad' at us," Ron finished.

Hermione stared at them. "What?"

"If it's war you want, Hermione," Ron said, "it's war you'll get. You and Harry."

"Ron, I don't—"

"Save it," Ron interrupted, and the three of them walked around Hermione and headed up the boys' dormitory staircase.

"That was… interesting," Ginny said, breaking the heavy silence in the common room.

"What were they talking about?" Hermione wondered.

"Who cares? I've got larger problems," Draco said, shrugging and tilting Hermione's chair back again, nearly dumping her out of the chair as he turned her back around to drag her to the portrait hole.

"Harry, Ginny, someone should go talk to him—" Hermione began, but Harry cut her off.

"This is more important, Hermione," Harry said. As Draco kicked the portrait hole open, Harry stepped forward, grabbed the legs of Hermione's chair, and helped Draco lift Hermione into the corridor.

"Oh, that was great," McGonagall laughed. She, Snape and Oliver had returned to the office fairly quickly, after nearly running into Dumbledore on their way to the library. "Did you see the look on Weasley's face?"

"Grabbing his shoulders was a great touch," Oliver said, grinning. He was quite enjoying the fact that he'd been able to freak out the twins; he considered it as a sort of revenge for forcing him to tell them about Hermione, the tattoo, and the prank war. "We should do this again some time."

"I'm sure we will," McGonagall said. "We've been doing it for years."

"…Did you guys ever terrorize Angelina Johnson?" Oliver asked. "About seven years ago?"

"Oh, she was one of the best," Snape said with relish. "She looked ready to cry. Or perhaps wet herself."

"Even when you're happy, you're still a Slytherin," McGonagall remarked, shaking her head.

"You enjoyed it as much as me," Snape retorted.

"So?" McGonagall said, smiling mischievously.

Snape was about to reply when a knock on the door cut him off. The three of them jerked their heads up in alarm. "Who is it?" McGonagall called.

"It's Ginny Weasley, professor! There's been a bit of an accident—"

Snape, McGonagall and Oliver had already stopped listening, grinning from ear to ear the moment they heard Ginny's voice. After a quick whispered conversation, Oliver headed for the door.

They'd dragged Hermione, chair and all, to the first staircase leading downward before she'd finally given in—or, to be accurate, freaked out at the thought of Malfoy helping to carry her down a load of steps and started screaming. She grudgingly got off the chair, helped Harry hide it in a secret passage for the time being, and hid under the invisibility cloak with Harry and Draco.

"This isn't too weird," Hermione muttered as she, Harry and Draco inched down the corridor.

"You're telling me," Harry and Draco whispered together, then glared at each other in disgust.

"Please don't do that," Ginny said. "It's creepy enough to be wandering around with you three under the cloak."

The invisibility cloak, which had seemed so roomy when Harry, Ron and Hermione were first-years, now seemed to have shrunk several sizes. While both Harry and Malfoy were on the thin side for guys their age, they were still fully-grown and rather tall, and they both had to scrunch up to make sure no one's feet showed. In an attempt to stay away from each other, they'd forced Hermione to walk between them, which she wasn't happy with; Harry kept stepping on her foot, and every time Draco bumped into her she jumped and pressed herself against Harry, which he found rather disconcerting; he was jumpier than usual.

"Are we there yet?" Hermione whined, unable to see anything but the floor and Harry's back.

"Almost," Harry said with a sigh, consulting the map. "Filch is still in his office, and Snape is still in McGonagall's… there's a secret passage up ahead, but I don't think going down the narrow staircase in there is a good idea, better take the long way…"

Hermione groaned in frustration. All she wanted to do was sleep; she was tired, and her mind was buzzing with unpleasant questions. But no, they had to go see Snape. Snape, of all people.

"Hey, guys," Ginny said thoughtfully as she led the way, "has anyone given any thought to just WHY Snape, McGonagall, and Oliver are in her office together?"

"What does it matter?" Harry asked.

"It doesn't matter much, I suppose," Ginny said, "but it's weird. Oliver doesn't exactly hang out with the teachers too often, especially not McGonagall and Snape. And the first time we checked the map was at least twenty minutes ago, and they haven't left."

"And what the hell was Ron talking about?" Harry said, warming to the subject. "Didn't he say he thought Hermione sent all three of them to attack Ron and the twins?"

"Something about singing and 'Feliz Navidad,'" Ginny said vaguely.

"It's a Christmas carol," Hermione said. "More popular in the Muggle world, though."

"…Snape attacked Fred, George and Ron while singing a Christmas carol?"

"With McGonagall and Wood helping him?"

"Wouldn't be the strangest thing he'd done lately," Draco muttered.

"No wonder Ron thinks it was you—Wood and Snape have no other connection," Harry mused. "Just you. And with you and Ron fighting…"

"Don't make me feel any worse—" Hermione began, but Draco cut her off.

"HA!" Draco exclaimed loudly. "So there IS some freakish love triangle between you, Wood and Snape!"

"Yes, Malfoy, that sounds so logical," Hermione said, rolling her eyes and stomping on his foot.

"OW! Well, there's no other explanation! You and Snape, you and Wood…"

"And for some reason, they've joined forces to terrorize Ron with Christmas songs," Hermione finished. "Riiiight. Makes perfect sense. Before long, you'll be uncovering all my secrets. Maybe I should just tell you now—I'm the descendant of a fire-breathing sorceress and Merlin himself, and I'm an exotic dancer on the weekends. I also use the library for all of my secret rendezvous meetings with every male staff member under the age of fifty."

"Good to hear you're finally coming clean," Draco retorted with a smirk.

"Can we push him down the stairs now?" Hermione asked Harry and Ginny.

"Not until you get the chain off, and only if I can help," Ginny told her.

"Ditto on that," Harry agreed.

Firing off insults all the way, Harry, Hermione, Ginny and Draco made their way down to the corridor outside McGonagall's office. Harry, Hermione and Draco hid inside a nearby secret passage, and Ginny knocked on the door.

"Who is it?" called a rather nervous-sounding McGonagall.

"It's Ginny Weasley, professor! There's been a bit of an accident in the hallway on the way to Gryffindor tower; it looks like a spilled potion of some sort and I can't find my way across it, but it's—"

The door was suddenly yanked open to reveal a frightened-looking Oliver, who seized the front of Ginny's robes, hauled her inside, and began dragging her over to McGonagall's desk. "Hey! What are you—ARGH!"

Oliver shoved her down by pushing on her head and under the desk. She was so startled by her surroundings that she tried to back out and nearly cracked her head open on the underside of the desk; the small space beneath the desk had been enlarged by a spell similar to that put on the Weasleys' former car. Sitting beneath the desk were McGonagall and Snape, and in between them was a small green fire that didn't appear to be ruining the carpet it was burning upon.

"What's going on?" Ginny demanded as Oliver crawled under the desk behind her.

"Were you followed?" McGonagall asked sharply.

"What? No, why would—"

"Are you sure?" Oliver interrupted.

"Yes. What's wrong?" she demanded.

"Albus," Snape said darkly. "He's after us. He's going to get us."

"Um… Professor Dumbledore… is after you?"

"That's what I said, Weasley."

"Er… why?"

"Because it's the truth."

"No… I mean, why is he after you?"

"Because we stole his lemon drops."

Ginny stared at him. "What… is a lemon drop?"
"These," Oliver said, and he, McGonagall and Snape all held up large bags of yellow candy, "are lemon drops."

"And you stole them from Dumbledore."

"And now he's gonna kill us, if he can find us. But he won't find us in here, no sir!" Snape gloated. "Marshmallow?"

Snape stuck a long stick in her face, a marshmallow on the end. McGonagall and Oliver each had one, too; they held the marshmallow carefully over the green fire. "We're making S'mores," Oliver explained. "Old recipe; my cousin's husband's a Muggle and he got me hooked on the things. Chocolate, graham cracker, marshmallow… nothing better than that."

"…You're making food on a campfire under your desk when Dumbledore is out to get you?" Ginny hissed, unable to fathom the logic behind that.

"Well, what else are we going to do?" Oliver said practically.

"Yeah, it's not like we're going to be able to go running through the halls singing 'Feliz Navidad,'" McGonagall said, as though the three of them did that on a regular basis.

"Why did you steal his lemon drops?" Ginny asked, pinching the bridge of her nose.

"Just so we could say we committed the Great Lemon Drop Caper," Snape explained cheerfully, retracting the marshmallow he'd offered Ginny and holding it over the fire himself.

"Right. That sounds completely logical," Ginny said wearily. Remembering her mission, she added, "Um… Professor Snape, there appears to be a potion spilled in the corridor on the way up to Gryffindor Tower. It's a huge mess, and I can't seem to find my way around it; Hermione and I have been trying for close to three hours. Hermione's trying to clean it up, but she sent me to go find Professor McGonagall to help, and since you're here—"

"No can do, Weasley. S'mores are more important."

"Er… but the entire corridor is—"

"It can wait," Snape interrupted.

Ginny scratched her head. It was obvious to her that the three of them had gone insane; normal people didn't start campfires while hiding under desks after stealing the headmaster's candies. There was something seriously disturbing about seeing two of the strictest people she'd ever known sitting cross-legged and roasting marshmallows with a guy her brothers had hung out with for years, who had visited their house during vacations and sat with the twins at mealtimes on occasion. When she combined their manners with the fact that Harry and Hermione were waiting just down the hall under an invisibility cloak with Malfoy,waiting for Ginny to lure Snape outside so they could ask for his help…

"I suddenly don't feel so good," Ginny said. "I… think I'll just… be going now."

She turned to go, but Oliver blocked the exit. "I can't let you leave without eating a lemon drop." She arched and eyebrow at him and folded her arms across her chest. "That way you can't rat us out. If you've eaten a lemon drop, you're in the same boat as us."

Ginny sighed and held out her hand. "Fine." Oliver put a piece of the candy in her hand and waited for her to put it in her mouth before letting her pass. Ginny crawled out from beneath the desk and practically ran to the door.

Harry, Hermione and Draco had separated a little in the cramped secret passage, only partially covered by the cloak, with Harry keeping an almost constant eye on the Marauder's Map to make sure they could hide themselves fully before they were discovered. Draco kept looking at the map curiously.

"Where did you get that thing, Potter?" Draco asked finally, having seen and heard enough of it by this point to know what it was.

"None of your business, Malfoy."

"I was just asking, you know," Draco snapped. "It's not like I could turn you in for having it. Dumbledore probably already knows. Knowing you, he probably gave it to you."

"Didn't hear you complaining when it helped us get here," Harry retorted.

"Whatever happened to Gryffindor bravery? What, you can't leave the dorms without hiding behind a cloak and checking for teachers with that map thing?"

"It's called 'not being stupid enough to get caught.'"

"Harry, try not to talk to him, would you?" Hermione said, leaning against a wall, her eyes half-closed. "He's much quieter when you ignore him."

Harry snorted, still watching the map. "If I could make him stay quiet by ignoring—hmm. This is… interesting."

"What?" Hermione said, standing up straight and coming over to look.

"The map… Oliver appeared to have opened the door, while Snape and McGonagall went over here. Then Oliver and Ginny went over here together, and they're all standing very close. …Too close, in fact."

"Harry, according to the placement of the windows and doors, they're all sitting on Professor McGonagall's desk," Hermione pointed out. "There's not enough room for three adults and Ginny to sit on the desk."

"And why would they do that, anyway?" Harry wondered.

Hermione frowned. "Maybe there's some sort of spell on the room we haven't noticed before, an enlargement spell or something. Something that would turn a small space into a large space, so all we see is them standing in a small space."

"Maybe… but that space is right on top of the desk, isn't it?" Harry said.

"Hmm. Well, look, here comes Ginny. She'll tell us when she gets here."

"Hey, she's alone!" Draco exclaimed indignantly. He had moved closer to look over their shoulders without them noticing.

"I'm sure she'll explain when she gets here," Hermione told him, and turned away from him. They put the cloak up over their heads but left it open in the front, so Ginny could see them but no one coming up behind them could.

Ginny pushed open the entrance to the secret passage a moment later, looking rather unhappy. Her eyes kept darting around nervously, and she had a look on her face like she'd just eaten something sour.

Gulping loudly and making an even more sour face, Ginny coughed slightly and spoke. "Sorry, guys, I'm out," she said, her eyes watering. "I'm not eating anymore lemon drops, and Snape's a tad busy making S'mores."

"What?" Draco said, staring at her.

"I'm your friend," she told Harry and Hermione, ignoring Draco, "but I'm not sitting around anymore campfires. Wait until morning to talk to Snape." With that, she turned on her heel and marched away.

"Campfires?" Hermione repeated.

"In McGonagall's office?" Harry said, staring down at the map, as though expecting it to tell him something more believable.

"S'mores… why would they be making S'mores?" Hermione wondered. "They're all purebloods, aren't they?"

"What's a lemon drop?" Draco wondered aloud, not really expecting an answer from either of them.

"I guess we'll have to go ourselves," Harry said, glaring in the general direction Ginny had disappeared in.

"It's too suspicious, now that we've already sent Ginny."

"So?" Draco started to move out from under the cloak. "Let's just go in there and demand some answers—"

"If you remember, the last time any of us were out in the middle of the night, reason or not, Gryffindor was docked a hundred and fifty points and Harry, Neville, you and I received detention."

"It was your own fault, transporting an illegal dragon," Draco said smugly.

"Just because you would never stick your neck out for a friend—oh, wait, you don't have any real friends—"

"What do you know, Granger? You're such a freak that the only people who would hang out with you are—OW!"

Draco doubled over; Harry had just elbowed him hard in the gut. "I'm getting really sick of you," Harry growled.

"I've been sick of you," Draco retorted.

Harry started to say something, then stopped. "You know, I just realized something. I'll always hate you. …Wow. I feel so much better."

"The feeling's mutual. Why wouldn't you?"

"You know why."

"No, I don't."

"You had the vision, too."

"Why would THAT make you think we wouldn't hate each other? I should think if anything that would make us hate each other more. And by the way, those visions AREN'T real. They can't be. They're bogus. I mean, I was bit by a cheese demon. Surely it's just some sort of hallucination."

"I am REALLY sick of this vision crap," Hermione said. "Shut up about it, will you? Snape's having a campout in McGonagall's office, and if it could actually freak out Ginny, people who are on their last shred of sanity, like the people standing in this secret passage with their worst enemy and an invisibility cloak, will not be able to handle it. Let's just get some sleep; honestly, haven't you both had enough fun for today? Weren't the Cheese Spirit, Quidditch practice, and the attempted arm-removing enough?"

With that, Hermione marched out of the secret passage.