beyondwandpoint (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
beyondwandpoint) wrote2019-03-20 11:14 pm
beyondwandpoint) wrote2019-03-20 11:14 pm
Entry tags:
- albus dumbledore,
- argus filch,
- blaise zabini,
- charms classroom,
- crookshanks,
- detention,
- fanfic,
- filius flitwick,
- harry potter,
- hermione granger,
- hermione granger / severus snape,
- michael corner,
- padma patil,
- peeves,
- potions classroom,
- potterverse,
- regulus black,
- ron weasley,
- severus snape,
- snamione,
- ss/hg,
- sunny the house elf,
- terry boot,
- the bloody baron,
- theo nott,
- tracey davis
“beyond wandpoint” 042 by gingerbred
“11 10e Monday - The Lull”
Severus, Hermione, Ron, Harry, Filius, Bloody Baron, Zabini, Miscellaneous Students
Originally Published: 2017-12-19 on AO3
Chapter: 042
Pairing: Hermione Granger / Severus Snape
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Double Charms is more like one and a half Charms to begin with, the students somehow sense... something's in the air, and in the end Hermione thinks they get even less accomplished than in a typical single Charms class. That annoys her no end. There are only seven more months left until N.E.W.T.s, after all.
Professor Flitwick does his best, she supposes, but it's hard to cut across the excited voices of the students. It's not like he could silence them all, or make himself louder... Hmm.
He asks the largely inattentive class if anyone can explain Golpalott's Third Law. There's a moment of confusion, those with any idea, there are only eleven present, seem to think that might have been a Potions thing, and it throws some of the usual volunteers enough that Hermione's hand is the only one in the air.
Malfoy would have known, but he's... busy elsewhere. Nott knows, but he tends to keep a low profile. Harry thinks he should know. He seems to recall impressing Slughorn with this, but all he remembers is that 'Bezoars' is the answer, except that it isn't.
"Yes, Miss..." Professor Flitwick doesn't quite call on her, but he points his little hand and gestures at her, and Hermione has never needed much of an invitation to answer questions.
"Golpalott's Third Law states that the antidote for a poison that consists of a mixture of other poisons must consist of more than the sum of the component antidotes." She strokes her hair absently at the recollection.
Well, Harry was right. It wasn't Bezoars. He's glad he let Hermione field that one.
"Very good, Miss..." Professor Flitwick struggles again. "I should have known you'd know your Potions material. Ten points to Gryffindor."
"Well, at least he got that part right. What's wrong with him today anyway?" Harry asks somewhat rhetorically.
"Who cares, he got the bit that matters," Ron is quick to answer.
Hermione, who had been pleased with the compliment and her point gain, feels her smile fade at that. She turns to Ron in annoyance, but is fortunately distracted when the diminutive Professor continues.
"Now you needn't worry, old Flitwick hasn't completely lost the plot. I know we're not in Potions, and I don't take myself for Professor Snape," he chuckles at his own attempt at humour, and then inadvertently catches Hermione's eye and begins to cough. The fit goes on long enough that most of the Hufflepuffs and at least one Gryffindor begin to wonder if he might be choking, and Harry wonders if a Bezoar would do more harm than good, but Flitwick finally gets it back under control again. "Sorry, my dear, I didn't mean to imply..." He's looking straight at the Gryffindor contingent, but most of them naturally have no idea why. Hermione sinks a little lower in her chair.
"Now where was I? Oh yes, in Charms, we have a related theory. As part of George Glasgow's Grand Unifying Theory of Stuff, the Seventh Law similarly states that the counterspell for a combination of Charms must, how did Miss..., um, put it? It 'must consist of more than the sum of the component' counterspells."
Padma's hand is up, and oddly Professor Flitwick has no problems remembering her name. "Yes, Miss Patil?" Undoubtably because she's in his House.
"And Laws One through Six? Will we need to learn those?"
"Ah, yes, well, there are only Laws One and Three beyond the Seventh. Does anyone know why? Miss... er?"
Hermione again supplies the answer, "One, three and seven are Arithmantically sound. Glasgow was a great fan of Arithmancy, although it didn't factor into the G.U.T.S."
"Guts!?" Ron's trying to stifle a laugh.
"G.U.T.S." she hisses in correction, not that it helps.
"No, indeed it did not. Very good, Miss..., ten more points to Gryffindor. In fact, you will not need to learn Laws One and Three, at least not for this class, as those theories apply to Transfigurations and Herbology respectively. Hence 'Unifying'.
"But it's probably only right to mention, calling it the 'Grand Unifying Theory of Stuff' is a bit of a lie, as Law One has since been disproven, and it really only addresses two disciplines these days. So it's probably more of a mediocre theory that doesn't unify much," he chortles. "But what's in a name, wouldn't you agree?"
"I'll say. He hasn't gotten yours right once today..." Harry whispers to Hermione. She now has a pretty good idea of what might be wrong, and feels that's confirmed when he has no trouble whatsoever with any of the other students' names. It probably helps that Salome Smith, née Perks, isn't in N.E.W.T.s Charms. Not coincidentally, Hermione doesn't raise her hand again during that class.
Michael Corner asks a question that sends old Flitwick off on a tangent for most of what remains of class. Terry Boot prompts him again when he seems about to flag. The man's too good natured by half. Hermione wonders sometimes if it isn't a deliberate strategy. She's noticed the Ravenclaws frequently ask questions she can't believe they don't know the answers to and waste a good deal of class time, but she can't imagine why they would.
"As I was saying before, the Charms portion of the G.U.T.S seems quite sound, quite sound indeed. I can't impress upon you enough how crucial that can be when trying to counter..."
A Tempus chimes, and almost as one, the class rises. The Professor fights to make himself heard, "Very important..." but it just gets lost in the commotion.
"Thank Merlin!" Ron lets out a sigh of relief. "I thought class would never end."
"You never know, Ronald, just when that might come in handy..."
"I can guarantee you, I won't regret it," he assures her. She fervently hopes it's on their N.E.W.T.s.
"Oh, Miss..." Professor Flitwick calls her. Not wanting her friends to hear what she fears he might have to say, she tells them to go ahead, she'll meet them in the hallway. They shrug and take their leave.
Once the door closes behind them, the little Charms Master addresses her, "I apologise, Madam Snape. I didn't mean to be rude, but I assumed you wouldn't want news of your bonding getting out?"
She blinks and considers how to respond... politely. "No, Sir. Quite the contrary. The whole point of it was for protection purposes. For it to provide the kind of protection we hope it will offer, it's... helpful if it does get out. It's imperative, in fact."
"Oh, I'm so sorry. I couldn't imagine... I just didn't think... Well, you and Severus, that is... I didn't think you'd welcome the attention," he finally manages, and she relaxes slightly. He's correct, neither of them will, and his intent wasn't malicious. That makes a big difference in her book.
"It's quite alright, Professor. I gather Professor Dumbledore wanted to be the one to announce it anyway. It's probably just as well." She makes a mental note not to answer any more questions in her other classes today in order to avoid similar situations. Not that she was all that likely to try to answer anything in DADA these days, but still. Merlin knows, she'd had more luck with that when Umbridge was teaching. She looks at her hand. Well, perhaps not.
Of course, now she would normally have Potions. And she has no idea what to tell the boys. If she'd been thinking, she'd have sent them ahead to class and left them in the belief she'd missed it thanks to Professor Flitwick. Now she'll need to come up with something else.
Bugger.
They make their way to Potions. Ron is babbling on about... whatever. She thinks it might be Quidditch. Normally she'd be able to tell for sure by how much it bores her to tears, that's pretty much the acid test, but she's too much on edge trying to think of what she's going to say to them when they get to class.
She'd given some thought to excusing herself beforehand. 'Witches' Issues' usually does the trick nicely and is near enough to the truth. Neither would be likely to want to hear more. Or she could have claimed a headache and said she was going to the Infirmary, except she didn't feel like listening to any teasing about taking up residence there. That would have been fairly predictable. And highly frustrating.
But she'd sort of been hoping to get back to chambers, take the shower she hadn't had this morning and see how Crooks is settling in. And honestly, she really is looking forward to trying out her new shower. Which is stupid. It's just a shower. But it's hers.
She's also a little nervous about how Sunny is doing with the Half-Kneazle in his domain. It hardly seems fair to just deposit Crooks there and then run off and leave the poor house elf to fend for himself like that. That house elves are exceptionally gifted at magic and almost definitely liable to be able to defend themselves against anything a Half-Kneazle can do somehow fails to cross her mind.
She's also still a little nervous about walking around the dungeons on her own, and so she uses the boys as an unwitting honour guard, which leaves her now trying to come up with a last minute excuse.
Preoccupied as she is, she doesn't notice where they are until she's almost on top of the entry to her new home. It's the wards that alert her to it first, because she's busy looking down and doesn't even see the door as they approach. It's interesting to see how neither of the boys react at all to the massive slab of ornately carved wood. This time yesterday, she wouldn't have either. She'd have walked past it, like they are now, none the wiser.
She finds herself drawing closer to the wall because the wards are stronger the nearer to the door she is. They feel lovely, and she's having a hard time just passing by. What she really wants to do is stop and stay there, or better yet, enter. They're so... strong. So... unmistakable. They're impossible to overlook. She doesn't see how the boys can. Which is also stupid. It's just like the door. And she wouldn't have noticed them twenty-four hours ago either.
But she can't resist a little test.
"Harry," she calls out, interrupting something on... probably the Cannons again. The world could stand in flames and Ron would still be banging on about the bloody Cannons. The boys pause. "Could you come here a moment?" Harry is kind enough to comply. "Do you feel anything here?" She asks him.
"No. Well, I mean, the floor and stuff, but that's the same stone as over there, right? Uh, is this a trick question?"
"No, over here," she puts his hand on the wall, closer to the entrance. Somehow she can't bring herself to take him to the door itself. She doesn't even think that's the Loyalty Vow, because she's fairly certain the Notice-Me-Not would sort that. She just doesn't want to, can't bring herself to lead him to the door. It seems somehow... private. And again, given the Notice-Me-Not, her response doesn't make much sense to her.
"And now I feel... wall. I don't get it, 'Mione. What am I supposed to feel?"
"I thought I felt something, kind of like a hot spot here," she dodges.
"Sorry," he replies. "I don't feel anything. I could check the map, if you like?"
"No!" She responds, a little too quickly. She's really not that good at this, and she should have thought of his blasted map. "No, I guess I'm just overtired." She continues in a rush, hoping he'll forget all about it, "Never mind me. We better get moving. We don't want to be late."
Ron's making disparaging noises; she's still not paying attention. It's taking some concentration to deliberately drag herself away from the... her, their door.
They've just reached the entrance to the Potions classroom when she hears clanking in the near distance. She smiles in recognition. Still not particularly inspired, she tells the boys to go ahead without her, she's forgotten... something, and turns to head back the way they came.
She's been acting oddly, even for 'Mione, but they've no real desire to be late and deal with Snape, and then the Bloody Baron puts in an appearance, and they've possibly even less desire to deal with him, so they stop standing around staring after her and enter the classroom.
"Potter, Weasley, so good of you to join us."
Bloody hell. 'Mione has made them a little late.
Potter, amusingly, feels the need to explain Miss Granger's absence. It seems she hadn't supplied them with a particularly good explanation, bless, she's really not very good at this, and now the Boy-Who-Lived-to-Lie sits there telling him how she's forgotten her homework and will be back at any moment, she just needs to return to the Gryffindor Tower. In as much as that could explain her absence for almost half the class, he could have done worse.
Still, Severus has the advantage of knowing Miss Granger won't appear and why, and he can't quite help himself. "Five points from Gryffindor for lying to staff." He's trying to decide if covering for a friend or lying to him was the primary motive; with Potter, it's a toss up. Either way, at five points, Potter got off lightly.
"Is that a punishable thing?" Ron asks Harry in a whisper. "I thought that was pretty much default."
"Shh!" Harry just tries to shush him.
"Five more for speaking out of turn. First you were late, and now you insist on disrupting class. Shall we all just sit here and wait for you both to get settled?" There's a snicker from the front, Nott and Zabini. He can't even stand looking at the boys. Sadly a Notice-Me-Not is out of the question.
Hermione has only just left the boys when the Baron comes clanking towards her. She's a little shy. She's never spoken to him before today. In point of fact, she still hasn't spoken to him. She hadn't even managed to get a single word out when they were introduced this morning, which is a mistake she means to rectify.
She stands waiting for him to come closer. That's not exactly a reaction he's accustomed to. "Sir, I..." Her voice cracks and fails her. It's no different than speaking to Nearly-Headless Nick. No different at all. If she keeps telling herself that, in a few years she might even come to believe it. She's supposed to be a Gryffindor, she can do this. "I wanted to thank you. For what you did."
He's a Slytherin, or was. Or is, as he's the House ghost. That must count for something. His first inclination is to say 'then do so', but he senses... Ha! It never ceases to puzzle him that he can sense anything anymore, but somehow he does feel that she isn't hedging and he shouldn't shut her down out of hand. So he warily waits her out.
She isn't a Slytherin, and it doesn't take long. "I really appreciate your going to get help for me Friday."
He's thinking about it. It's true, he had done that. But his motives are a little murky. He hadn't wanted her to come to harm, certainly not that, but he couldn't honestly say that was his first priority either. The entire male half of their seventh years had been a hair's breadth from getting themselves expelled. He'd have been remiss in his duties as a House ghost had he turned a blind eye to that.
He inclines his head towards her slowly in response, a sort of protracted nod. He views it as acknowledgment of what she said, but not quite acceptance of her gratitude. He's frankly uncertain he's deserving of it.
He's trying to think when anyone last thanked him for anything. The Head of House does. He thinks the man means it. It's part of the reason he's now keeping an eye on the man's wife. The Headmaster does. That usually feels more... pro forma. Once in a while some of the other Professors express thanks after he... handles Peeves for them, but that seems... transactional. He can't recall a student thanking him, sincerely, since he helped young Black find the Room of Hidden Things.
That was a very long time ago. But perhaps not so long measured over the span of his afterlife.
He accompanies her in silence, managing not to rattle his chains for the duration - he's noticed how nervy the young woman is, the short distance to the door to her chambers.
"Good day, Madam," he wishes her in parting in that whisper of his.
And the smile she gives him in return seems unexpectedly sincere.
"Everyone turn in your scrolls on alternative methods of preparation of Pearl Dust. Come now, hold them up." He summons ten scrolls to him, no one is foolish enough not to complete his assignments. In that light, Potter's excuse wasn't all that ill considered. "Zabini, where's yours?"
The tall Slytherin is searching furiously through his satchel. To no avail, of course. Severus had vanished its ashes himself a scant two and a half hours ago. This is fun to watch, and he needs more fun in his life. Zabini's dark complexion unfortunately camouflages some of the blush of embarrassment Severus is quite sure should be evident by now. "You had all weekend to prepare, do you mean to say you thought you didn't have to?"
"No, Sir, I..."
"Perhaps you thought because I am your Head of House, I'd be more favourably disposed towards this display of... sloth?"
"Uh, no, Sir, not at all. I did it, I just can't find it."
"So not slothful, merely slovenly. Hmm. But you believe you're adequately prepped, do you? Very well, shall we see?" Blaise looks uncomfortable, but not uncertain. His conscience is clear, and he knows he's done his work. "Where would you expect to source black pearls?"
"Japan," he answers with confidence, as Severus knew he would. It's the advantage of having read the boy's assignment before Incendioing it.
"And you claim you're au fait. Shall I give you a hint? Black pearls are also known as Tahitian pearls. Miss Davis, where would one expect to find them?"
Ron leans over and whispers to Harry, "Tahiti?"
"French Polynesia," Tracey answers decisively.
"Now that sounds like a trick question," Ron complains under his breath.
"Five points to Slytherin for the correct answer, and five more points from Gryffindor for continuing to speak out of turn." Ron's about to complain when Harry claps a hand on his arm and gives him a warning look. "And you, Zabini. I can't say how disappointed I am. But I am certain Mr. Filch will enjoy the pleasure of your company next Saturday."
"So how come he doesn't lose points for 'lying to staff' about his homework?" Ron whinges.
"Ron, for the love of... He got detention, with Filch. I'm sure that's worse, now just be quiet."
"I'm afraid this can only be a sign of the impending apocalypse, but I'm forced to agree with Potter. Weasley, do be quiet." Ron again moves to object, but Harry's fingers tighten almost painfully on his arm. "And five more points from each of you for this ongoing display of what I must assume is verbal diarrhoea." At that Harry just gives up and casts a Langlock on Ron; there was no hope of weathering this otherwise, and the Muffliato is too noticeable to use around someone like Snape with its buzz. He'd spot it in an instant.
"Why does no one else have this problem? You two are the weakest students by far in this course, and yet you persist in disrupting class and disturbing the others. Any suggestions as to why that might be? Weasley?" Severus recognises the signs of his own spell quite clearly, and couldn't resist. It comes as no surprise when Weasley can't get as much as a peep out. "Ah, I see you're finally learning to hold your tongue. Commendable." What he is is beet red. He's a few breaths from a coronary. It's... delightful.
Severus sits there contemplating if he couldn't simply perform a Langlock on all of his students every day, only lifting it to let them answer his questions. After they've raised their hands like good little students, and he's called on them in an orderly fashion of course. His day dreams are a great deal more appealing than the things that haunt his nights. And now he's seriously wondering if there's anything in the school rules that explicitly forbids silencing the students. Tempting.
Damn.
But he keeps it in the back of his mind, a warm, happy thought as he suffers through the rest of class.
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
Pretty much. I've scattered my stuff around LJ. Christmasspirit.livejournal.com has a bunch of stories from the christmas spirit AU where Severus survived the war (and Lavender as well — although I stubbornly maintain she must have survived in canon, too) and a bunch of the students returned for an 8th year. All but one of which are complete. Then I put a bunch of short(er) stories up on gingerbredshaus.livejournal.com...
no subject
no subject
no subject