She hovered at the door uncertainly, before steeling her spine and knocking. "What?" a voice barked, wrenching the door open. "Miss Granger," he sneered, glowering down at her, "I do not have time for whatever inane questions you have, I have been summoned to resume the search for Professor Umbridge."
"Ah," Hermione nodded calmly, startling him. He had expected more of a reaction if he was honest. The girl was abysmal at hiding her feelings. "And if I ah…had any information about that, could you perhaps use the time you should be searching for her to answer my ah… inane questions, Sir?"
Severus stared down at the wich wondering what the fuck she had done now. "In." he barked, watching as she walked into his office and primly sat down. "Explain!"
"About Professor Umbridge?" she checked.
"Of course about Professor Umbridge you idiot girl!" he hissed.
"Ah well….she's fine." Hermione dismissed airily.
"She's…fine," he repeated slowly, his mind whirling as he attempted to guess where this was going. "And how, pray tell, Miss Granger, do you know that?"
Hermione sighed exaggeratedly, and it was all he could do not to gape at the witch, this was not her normal behaviour. Something was going on. Something he was absolutely sure he was going to regret asking about. He did not get paid enough for this bullshit. He gave the miniature witch his best death stare, hoping that this would be over soon. She stared placidly back at him. "I need to know, Sir, that you aren't going to force me to give up my present."
He blinked, completely nonplussed. "What?"
"My present. My girlfriend gave me an early Christmas present and I want your assurances that I can keep it."
"Why on Earth would I care what your girlfriend gave you?" Severus demanded, his eyes narrowing in anger even as he silently filed that information away. Albus had his money on the youngest male Weasley ending up with Granger. He was tempted to get in on the bet now he had insider info; the pot on that one was absurdly high. He could go on holiday with his winnings. Somewhere far, far away from irritating teenagers and meddling old men. He needed to get the witch out of his office quickly so no one else got there first. "You are wasting my time!" he thundered, fully expecting her to cower and bolt. She did not.
"I am not," she retorted sharply, "So your word Sir?"
He felt a small jolt of worry at her insistence but shoved it down. It was a bloody present for Merlin's sake and he had a bet to win. If he agreed surely she'd leave." Fine," he hissed, "You can keep whatever ridiculous trinket your girlfriend gave you now, where is Professor Umbridge!"
"Here." Hermione reached into her bag and pulled out the box, thankful that Pansy had thoughtfully ensured that all the little pieces of furniture remained stuck to the bottom so the only thing that was jostled when she was in her bag was Umbridge herself.
Severus' eyes blew wide and she felt a vicious jolt of satisfaction that she managed to obliterate his usual mask. "Miss Granger…." he trailed off feebly, picking up the box where Umbridge was clearly screaming, stamping her feet in her rage, demanding he help her. He sat down heavily, not quite able to comprehend what he was seeing.
"Now you know where she is, will you answer my questions, Sir?"
"She's in a box." he muttered faintly, "In a box. Mother of Morgana." He lifted stunned eyes to the student he was being forced to reevaluate in light of her utter lack of concern that she was now the owner of a bloody person, asking the question he was more than a little scared to. "Who is your girlfriend?"
"Oh, Pansy." Hermione waved him off.
"Miss Parkison?" he wheezed. "And she…she thought you'd like this?"
"Well she got the idea from me after Rita," she gave another lazy wave of her hand, "My questions, Sir?"
He couldn't have contained it if he tried, his jaw dropped and a startled wheeze-like noise escaped him. "Rita?" he queried, dreading the answer as he realised that the little box house had dividers giving the witch different rooms to live in. It was…strangely thoughtful if he was able to ignore how fucking frightening it was.
"Skeeter, I kept her in a jar. Sirius looked after her for us for the summer. Serves the bug right for eavesdropping. She's an unregistered animagus, you know? A beetle."
He opened and closed his mouth soundlessly, his eyes going back to the box before a horrifying thought occurred to him, "Miss Parkison hasn't requested me, has she?"
Hermione let out an amused snort, "No, Sir. I'd hardly give you a warning now would I?" He was trying to work out how to voice that that was not anywhere reassuring as she seemed to believe it was when she continued, "I was just hoping you might ah…help?"
"With what?" he checked, terrified of the answer.
"Well…to start, I suppose, I want to know, is it terribly unoriginal to gift someone the same thing they gave you?"
"What?"
She made an impatient noise, "Well… she's due to be contracted to Rabasatan Lestrange of all people, and I had wondered whether I could gift him to her. But she's already done it so is it unoriginal?"
"Unoriginal." he wheezed, wondering if it was time to be less concerned about the Dark Lord and more concerned about the apparently terrifying duo that was the Misses Granger and Parkinson.
"Yes." she nodded as if it was a perfectly acceptable question.
"Ah…no?" he tried, not at all sure that was the correct answer. He was essentially condoning people as pets now, wasn't he?
"Oh good." Hermione sighed, sounding relieved. "I'm glad. Now. We had also wondered if perhaps we could ah… commandeer a few more."
"People?" he asked sounding strangled.
"Well yes. Nev wants Bellatrix, understandably. Harry wants the man himself. We thought Remus might enjoy Greyback and Sirius would probably be quite pleased with Wormtail. Fred and George thought Molly might like Dolohov, he was responsible for her brother's deaths you know. Luna wanted Yaxley, she has somewhat of a fascination with his hair." Hermione looked momentarily worried for the first time since she'd stepped into his office before she shrugged, "Daphne Greengrass wants Thorfinn Rowle, apparently he's a creep who makes her sister uncomfortable. Nott wants his dad, and Malfoy wants Avery, apparently, he's also a creep. Zabini thinks we're all insane but might like Travers because apparently, the man keeps trying to trick his mother into agreeing to a marriage between Blaise and his daughter. She's thirty five so I can understand his hesitance. Gin thought she might like Lucius Malfoy, surprisingly, Malfoy seemed on board with that idea. The twins fancied Mulciber because of the Buckbeak fiasco and Ron wants either Crabbe or Goyle Snr. He's not fussy which. Fred and George said they'd take the other one so they have one each. Is there anyone you'd like Sir?"
He continued to gape at her, not at all sure he wasn't having a particularly vivid and terrifying nightmare. "Sir?" she prompted when he remained silent.
He blinked, pinching his arm. It hurt. He made his decision immediately, he was infinitely more terrified of the Misses Granger and Parkinson and he did not want to be on their bad side lest he also end up in an impenetrable glass house. "Alecto Carrow." he nodded decisively. Bloody witch kept trying it on and it was uncomfortable, damn it! Especially as they were all sure she was closer than acceptable to her twin. "Someone should be responsible for her brother, Amycus. Andromeda perhaps. The twins were vicious when she ran off with Ted."
Hermione nodded, writing that down on the parchment she'd pulled for somewhere. "Very well. So you'll help us?"
He gave a hysterical-sounding bark of laughter. "Miss Granger, I think I'm too scared to do anything else."
"Wonderful," she beamed, handing him a galleon much to his confusion. "It'll show when we're meeting. The Room of Requirement is on the seventh floor, Sir come along and we'll plan." she bounced out of his office looking exceedingly pleased with herself, leaving him utterly reeling still slumped in his office chair.