beyondwandpoint

“11 13h Thurs - And (aka Infirmary)” Part 1

Severus, Hermione, Staff: Minerva McGonagall, Poppy Pomfrey, Nurse Wanda Wainscott, Slytherins: Draco Malfoy, Theo Nott, Blaise Zabini, Vincent Crabbe, Gregory Goyle, Daphne Greengrass, Torsten Touchstone, Ella Wilkins, Astoria Greengrass, Tomasina Touchstone, Gryffindors: Ron Weasley, Lavender Brown, Fay Dunbar, Hufflepuffs: Justin Finch-Fletchley, Hannah Abbott, Susan Bones, Others: Crookshanks, Polly the Infirmary house elf

Mentioned briefly: Slytherins: Harper Hutchinson, Róisín Rosier, Ravenclaws: Edgar Martins, Hufflepuffs: Megan Jones, Others: The Bloody Baron, Sunny the house elf, Slinky the chief Slytherin house elf

The Slytherins bring their seventh year boys to the Infirmary; naturally they aren't the only ones there. Severus and Crooks attend to pressing matters in chambers, while Hermione tries to figure out what she did wrong.

Originally Published: 2020-07-05 on LJ / DW
Chapter: 124 part 1

The original version of this chapter exceeded livejournal's maximum post length. It's been split in two parts.

THIS CHAPTER IS A TWO-PARTER. READ THIS PART FIRST.
ALSO, THE LAST CHAPTER WAS A TWO-PARTER. DID YOU READ BOTH PARTS? (123a LJ / DW and 123b LJ / DW)

Characters:

Severus (HoS, Potions), Hermione 7G (Prefect, Supreme Swot)

Staff: Professor Minerva McGonagall (HoG, Transfiguration), Poppy Pomfrey (Mediwitch extraordinaire), Nurse Wanda Wainscott (chatty)

Slytherins: Draco Malfoy 7S (Prefect, Team Captain, Seeker, Swot), Theo Nott 7S (Swottiest, Nervous Wreck), Blaise Zabini 7S (Keeper (but only in the Quidditch sense...)), Vincent 'Vince' Crabbe 7S (Beater, Inferi Princess), Gregory Goyle 7S (pierced Beater with a lovely voice), Daphne Greengrass 7S (Sparkly! Fwoopers!), Torsten 'Tor' Touchstone 6S (sleepyhead, heir to the Touchstone fortune), Ella Wilkins 6S (Prefect), Astoria 'Tori' Greengrass 5S, Tomasina Touchstone 5S (Prefect, Potions savvy heiress)

Gryffindors: Ron Weasley 7G (Prefect, Keeper (but also only in the Quidditch sense), the Boy-Who-Exists-to-Annoy-Hermione), Lavender 'Lav' Brown 7G (blonde!), Fay Dunbar 7G (Reserve Chaser)

Hufflepuffs: Justin Finch-Fletchley 7H, Hannah Abbott 7H (Prefect), Susan Bones 7H

Others: Crookshanks 'Crooks' (Hermione's half-Kneazle), Polly (the Infirmary house elf)

Mentioned briefly: Slytherins: Harper Hutchinson 6S (Prefect, Chaser, flash Robe Model), Róisín Rosier 6S (Makeup Maven, her aunt Rosemary died in the last war before after bonding Willem Wilkes), Hufflepuffs: Megan Jones 7H (the Muggle-born who quite sensibly left), Others: The Bloody Baron (Slytherin House Ghost), Sunny (the Snapes' house elf), Slinky (the Slytherin House's chief house elf)

Previously:

Ron, just the very soul of sensitivity, decides it's a smashing idea to mock Draco's near death at the point of Harry's wand sixth year by dressing in shredded, bloody clothes for Halloween and making a complete tit of himself. Shockingly, this doesn't sit well with some people. (002 LJ / DW) Draco responds by attempting to leave Hermione tied to a chair in McGonagall's classroom in similarly torn and bloodied clothing. (003 LJ / DW)

Severus means to ensure Draco won't create any problems for Hermione until he can get things better squared away by landing the little rotter in the Infirmary. ('Temporarily' should go without saying.) And surely the most expedient way to do so must be knocking him down the seven flights of steps that comprise the Grand Staircase. Hmm. (That could have been a failure of creativity on his part, more likely it was outright aggression...) Draco holds Harry and Ron responsible, which isn't too much of a stretch as even Ron believes he caused the fall. As he isn't a soulless monster, Severus catches Draco and brings him to the Infirmary. Poppy feels compelled to engage in a spot of social justice in revenge for what Draco did to Hermione, which rendered the resulting bondings advisable. The Matron refuses the boy Pain Relieving Potions, offering to administer the necessary series of eight Episkeys with the benefit of a Stupefy should he want one. Almost predictably, he declines. (053 LJ / DW and 061 LJ / DW)

Vince still sports a few traces of the assorted Hexes and Jinxes from Tuesday night. Presently he’s stuck with mouldy green hair and black nails, hardly a good look, but still, it’s better than running around with sparkly purple wings on... (091a LJ / DW)

Neville tells Lav that Ron's been injured and spent the night in the Infirmary. Knowing how he feels about their food - but then who doesn't? - she opts to bring him something to eat. She takes Fay along for company. (120 LJ / DW)

Hermione is hoping to sneak out of chambers without Severus noticing as part of her effort to avoid eating in the Great Hall. Unfortunately he returns from his workout before curfew ends, and she isn't able to. (117 LJ / DW) Unsure how best to manage the situation, she makes herself comfy in their lounge (118 LJ / DW) and strikes up a conversation, causing him to flee much like Crooks when confronted with the prospect of ear drops. (119a LJ / DW) As soon as Severus does, she hightails it out of there, unfortunately she promptly encounters Lav and Fay. They exchange a very few words, and it isn't long before Hermione gets good and affronted and somehow deems it wise to claim she'd spent the weekend with Severus. (120 LJ / DW)

For insulting the Head's bondmate, Draco tricks Hufflepuff Wayne Hopkins into trying to hex him while they're waiting in the corridor before Ancient Runes. The hex bounces off Draco's Protego and strikes Justin Finch-Fletchley, giving him a rather superfluous second head. (100b LJ / DW) Justin and his tw-two he-heads are enjoying a nice visit with Poppy.

While attempting to find the portrait of Healer Temperance Mathews, a pail of spiders is somehow squashed firmly over Ron's head, thoroughly covering his eyes. As luck and the author would have it, he takes an near unavoidable tumble down a flight of stairs. (108 LJ / DW) That minor mishap also lands him in Poppy's tender care. (117 LJ / DW)

Ella takes out some of her frustrations on Vince by using the exceedingly and completely unnecessarily painful Carnivorous Capsaicin Concoction to disinfect the wounds the apparently cursed lavatory floor had caused to his feet. (122a LJ / DW)

The Slytherins rush the seventh year boys to the Infirmary. Severus gets a look at their odd procession as they cross his wards, but isn't really sure what of make of it. (123b LJ / DW)

Lavender Brown is brighter than most think. At the moment, for example, it's only taken her a couple of minutes to realise that the fundamental problem with wanting to be there for WonWon - a noble goal on parchment to be sure - is actually having to be there for Ron. It certainly doesn't help matters that he seems bound and determined to try her patience with a protracted whinge about Hermione, of all people, as if he hasn't any idea - none at all - why that might not sit well with her in the least. Fine, initially she thought she might derive some pleasure from it, that it might provide a measure of satisfaction after he'd thrown her over for the chit last year, but no. No, not really. Not when he seems so utterly oblivious to her own feelings. Perhaps she'd been unrealistic to expect him to see things from the standpoint of 'if only he hadn't left her for Hermione'. Possibly it was just too soon for him. She can almost understand that. She herself had needed rather more than a couple of days to get over his betrayal after all...

But he keeps going on and on (and on) about the witch... She's already tired of his griping about the girl, and she's only just arrived in the Infirmary. She'd tried to distract him with food with mixed results, and when food fails to work with him, a witch is really in trouble.

And Fay, unfortunately, seems only too willing to encourage him, all the more eager to complain about their roommate, their ex-roommate after their encounter in front of the Great Hall just a little bit ago. Lav hadn't expected that, of course, but then she couldn't have predicted they'd run into the girl... Well, not without twigs or a crystal ball anyway. (Although to be fair, probably not even then.)

Ever so briefly, things had looked good. Promising, even. He'd been pleased to see them, positively thrilled not to have to eat the Infirmary gruel. He'd welcomed their baps - oo er - with enthusiasm, but then something had got him started...

Fay might have mentioned Hermione. Surely it was innocent, wasn't it? She doesn't have the same associations when it comes to those two as Lav does - why would she? - and so it probably doesn't stick in her craw they way it does Lav's. And then Finch-Fletchley a few beds over had started in telling Bones and Abbott about Her-Hermione a-and her-her Sl-Slytherins, especially as Pomfrey had apparently Flooed with Snape, and Ron had just... lost the plot. Completely. And no amount of baps, however fine, was likely to undo the damage.

Lav's begun to consider packing it in for today and going to the library to see if she can find any information about that Hair Colouring Charm, sooner as opposed to later...

Almost predictably, things only get worse when the Slytherins arrive.

Hermione sits in the library, distracted, nibbling on her lip, alternating playing with one of her mad curls and the miniature phial at her neck (largely depending on her thoughts at the time), and currently staring into space in some annoyance. She's not found any material at all that she wants and the Restricted Section beckons in the most frustrating way, just out of reach. She watches sixth year Ravenclaw Prefect Such-n-such Martins disappear tantalisingly into the closed off area to retrieve a text. There's little point in asking him for a favour. Knob.

She imagines she has the Peace to thank for the fact that she isn't presently dying of envy. Well that's an unanticipated side effect. How nice that something is working out for her this morning...

With that opening, it's almost natural that her thoughts eventually begin to turn to things she could have handled better. The most glaring mistake, if she were to mark her performance - which of course she does regularly - was obviously the interaction with her former roommates. She'd allowed herself to be goaded into making some unfortunate statements, and if they weren't unfortunate enough in and of themselves, she'd dragged the poor Professor into it, and the Baron was right, that just isn't done.

(She amuses herself briefly trying to picture what an apology might look like. She's quite certain he'd enjoy that immensely. That thought only amuses her further.)

And of course her attempts to initiate conversation with the Professor had been all wrong. For someone attempting to slip out of their quarters unremarked... For someone trying to disturb him less... No, she'd managed it incorrectly, and that begs the question 'why?'

There are a few suspicions she ignores entirely, she locks those thoughts down tightly, smothering them in the proverbial cradle, it's better that way, and now needs to search for other, more palatable possibilities...

Well she probably isn't used to all the privacy.

That would do it.

It's always odd the first few days home during the hols, too. It takes a little time to adjust. That's probably all it was.

She needs to keep a lower profile, that's what she needs to do. Now if she'd left before he returned...

Except she couldn't have, at least not today, obviously, because of curfew. She wonders if that's a regular occurrence with him, going out in the morning, when he usually returns... What his schedule looks like. They haven't really had a chance to settle into a routine yet. She wonders when he usually appears in the Great Hall to breakfast, and is surprised firstly to find she'd noticed, however passively, and that the answer is it hasn't been nearly as regular the last year or two. Given some of the things she's learnt in the past few days, of course she now has a terrible idea why that might have been.

For a moment there's a flare of something like guilt - not too bad really, Peace is lovely - but a sort of awareness of it that had begun to strike her now and again since Friday. All the times last year she thought she was beyond miserable, heartbroken and upset by Ron's behaviour and his flagrant carrying on with Lavender... And the Professor for his part hadn't made the meal because he was presumably off recovering from torture. She hadn't a clue what real misery meant.

She's begun to learn.

Some intrusive thoughts worm their way to the forefront, about both her mistreatment and his, but she's able to duck out from under them. It continues to surprise her how well that goes on the Draught, and at the same time, it's disconcerting that those thoughts had still occurred. Maybe the confrontation with her erstwhile roommates had upset her more than she'd allowed, because things seem to be getting to her more. Or maybe her problems are simply growing with time. People's reactions this week had unquestionably made her situation worse...

That doesn't seem an advisable line of reflection, so she begins to backtrack, following her thoughts in reverse to the last comfortable ones... His schedule... Leaving earlier... Curfew.

She laughs at an errant notion, and Martins makes a shushing noise she readily ignores, the officious little tit. (Which is even funnier, as that's usually her role. Typically she fails to see why others might find that an annoying trait in her. Possibly she's even more annoyed at the Ravenclaw because on some level she feels he was right to hush her in the first place.)

Yes, curfew... And maybe next time she can get Severus to write her a note, she scoffs to herself (this go round, she suppresses the snicker), knowing full well he could, which is ever so strange. Or at least she thinks he could - she's not certain what withdrawing as his student entailed - but the point was the bondmate she's trying to avoid - no, more like give some space to; well, maybe both - is a Professor and she's a student and yes, that's exceptionally weird. And of course he's all too aware of it, absolutely doesn't want to be in that role - that was the whole point of her formal withdrawal after all - and he's even more uncomfortable about their respective positions if she were to judge. Much more uncomfortable, really, and she's beginning to understand that isn't just the Peace speaking for her.

Because she isn't particularly uncomfortable with him, which has her thinking a little about that weirdness.

The bond can't be undone. That's not the point, and momentarily not a source of worry. She'd given the matter some thought, arrived at what she believed was the correct conclusion, and she has no issues with that whatsoever at present. That's a little surprising now that it occurs to her, but it also makes sense. The facts haven't changed, so her conclusion quite naturally still holds.

But now she performs a spot of mental exercise and asks herself some different questions. If it had been possible to do this, to bond someone, without it in anyway proving a threat to their safety - which of course it would have, that was almost half the point - and if it had had something to offer them as well so it wasn't simply a question of her interests... Would she be happier if the suggestion had been made to have her bond a fellow student? Would that be any less weird?

Ron comes to mind again, and he just makes her so angry right now... But on Peace, that anger is without heat. There's more an awareness of its absence and a sense of displeasure. Still, that's hardly conducive to wanting to consider him more than fleetingly. She doesn't dwell, simply moves along. Harry, Harry had enough on his plate, and he deserved a chance at genuine happiness... Wouldn't a bond interfere with that? And what would it do to their friendship? Present problems aside, she trusts to the fact they're fast friends, but could they remain friends under those circumstances? The very nature of the bond alone would make that exceptionally difficult, she's certain. How often do they think less than generous thoughts about one another? And what happens when one knows this? Wouldn't one begin to question things one needn't? Because clearly they do think poorly of one another from time to time - heavens, they both have this week alone - and still she's positive they're friends, and yet if they had those reactions rubbed in their faces every time... Would they still be?

Which has her wondering why things aren't going worse with the Professor...

Possibly because until now, she'd been pleasantly surprised. Maybe he had as well. Yes, she's sure of it as she thinks it. Not that there weren't moments of hurt or disappointment, but as a whole, she supposes they had each expected to encounter worse responses from one another than they have. That would have to help. It strikes her as incredibly sad that he wouldn't expect a better resonance from someone he'd rescued. (And there she goes clutching the miniature phial again.) It certainly doesn't speak for the people in his life...

It feels strange to consider that, his life, his past, the people in it... Almost as though she were intruding just to think about it, which is too funny given she's bonded him, moved into his flat, demanded information from the Headmaster about the man's past, been gifted some of the same from the Matron, and now effectively eavesdrops on his feelings. She almost has to laugh again at the absurdity. And yet it still feels like his private life should be off limits, or at least he'd probably want it to be, and so she politely pulls her thoughts back to her contemplations of other potential bondmates. (Whether Severus would consider that polite or not is another matter.)

All the people that had been considered and rejected pass in review through her thoughts, and she tries to imagine if the circumstances were different, if it had been safe to bond any of them...

And now she looks at the scattering of people sitting at tables around her, Martins, for example, over there chewing on the tip of his quill until it's visibly wet with drool... Hmm.

Different weird, she decides, but definitely weird all the same.

And she doesn't believe it would have been any more pleasant.

In plenty of cases - Martins must have felt her gaze upon him and looks up at her now, and she has to stifle another giggle - she suspects it would have been a good deal less so.

No. No, she'd had the right of it before when she was speaking to Lav and Fay. Just the relocation alone had been better for her, and she doesn't really have anything to complain about with the match either... which is probably the weirdest thing of all.

Hard to believe the students rushed past and no one had knocked on Severus' door. Perhaps they assumed he was at breakfast. Hmm. He probably should be. He's being decadent, wallowing.

Hmm again.

He's entitled, he decides, and promptly continues to do so. Mentally he half dares Albus to object after the sacrifices he's made this week alone.

'Mrawr?' The half-Kneazle reappears at Severus' side. He'd barely noticed that it had retreated as asked, a sensibility he hadn't truly anticipated and knows enough to appreciate. If Crabbe's allergies hadn't already proven it unequivocally, that response alone would assure him the creature has Kneazle blood.

"Eager to get to your bacon then are you?" He asks, and then Summons a piece to give to the creature in advance of their exercise. "If my students listened half as well as you do, I wouldn't mind teaching near as much." He bends to feed the animal and scratches... Crookshanks behind the ears. The ginger tom gives a very satisfying purr as he does; that has Severus continuing the action longer than originally intended.

Crooks has ways of getting what he wants.

"I'll be frank, you won't enjoy this, but it's non-negotiable, so we're clear. It won't, however, in any way hurt, you have my word, and I've more of the bacon for when we're finished by way of compensation," he concludes matter of factly, and the half-Kneazle appears to wait expectantly beside him. Severus takes it for acceptance of his terms.

"Shall we get on with it?" He Summons the books from the dining table - Pomona's absurd floral display still in its centre - and proceeds to the door. He means to perform a few charms that are rather more than necessary for sharing the flat with the feline. If he were a responsible wizard, he should have done them long before now, the moment the half-Kneazle set padded foot in their quarters, in fact, but seeing as he personally has been sending the fur to the bed of the nearest individual with allergies... Yes, it hadn't made much of a difference. But before Miss Granger does something that makes that oversight of his too obvious, too blatant, he needs to address this.

He intends to begin with the Charm to remove any trace of Kneazle fur from one's person when passing through the doorway. He knows that one by heart. He applies it at the beginning of the school year on each of the rooms connected via the Caterwalling tunnels. The barrier to prevent the creature from leaving quarters will not be required, or there'd have been little point to adjusting his wards for the animal, but as he'd mentioned, he doesn't imagine Crookshanks will appreciate the alternative.

Severus is surprised when he goes to apply the Charm to discover it already in place. He's equally surprised he hadn't noticed, but then Miss Granger had quickly seen to spells to sort his clothing directly, and when she hadn't, he had, Banishing the fur to Crabbe's bed. On the other hand Miss Granger clearly hadn't known any such spells prior to his request for a fur collecting charm, so she seems an unlikely suspect for having cast this one, and it's rather more robust than he'd have expected from her at any rate. That's the reason he's the one to apply it in the dorms, after all. When someone with allergies is living on the premises, they can't afford for the charms to suddenly fail.

He tests the magic a little and concludes Sunny must have seen to it. Probably shortly after bringing the creature to his new home Sunday night, all considered. The little elf is truly on top of things and a fair sight more autonomous than Severus tends to recognise.

It's probably just as well.

Severus wonders fleetingly if it's exactly the same spell he'd have set, considering for a moment how similar elven magic is to humans' and how divergent. Seeing no call to reapply the Charm, he tucks his wand under his arm and begins to leaf through the first book for the other spell he needs. Naturally it's in the second. It's a justifiable mistake, he hasn't much call for this particular one as it isn't the accepted method of dealing with allergies in one's House, rather for felines with Kneazle blood who aren’t sharing quarters with those so afflicted. Once found, it's the matter of a moment to perform the Cling Film Charm. He Summons the plate with the remaining bacon, opens the door and steps out into the corridor.

A little regretfully, he knows what to expect, he turns and calls to the half-Kneazle, "We need to test it." The animal suddenly appears a good deal less agreeable.

Crooks stares at him, somewhat dumbfounded at the degree of idiocy on display, and here he'd begun to have hopes for the wizard, too. But no, he can feel the magic from here thank you very much, he's not some kind of fool. What the man thinks he has before him is a Crup. Crookshanks is most definitely not a Crup.

"I'd rather we ascertain things are working as intended while I'm still present, or would you prefer, perhaps, to experiment at some later time with Miss Granger," neither Severus nor Crooks have any doubt that will inevitably take place, "who, I might add, has no knowledge of the Charm and wouldn't be able to help if things didn't go to plan?" He finds himself reasoning with the creature.

Half-Kneazle indeed, for it seems that was what it took, or possibly Sunny's bacon truly is just that superior. Not enthusiastically, but that's presumably an ask too far, Crooks walks towards their new wizard, letting out a patently disgruntled 'MWraaAaawrrR!' as he crosses the threshold.

"Hmm," Severus responds, not unsympathetically. He crouches and hands the feline the first bit of his edible reparations, gently stroking him as he does. He can no longer feel any fur, which was rather the point of the Charm, and as he feeds Crookshanks the next rasher, he carefully tries to assess how tight the Film about the creature is. "We can loosen it somewhat, if you'd prefer. The issue there is you wouldn't wish to be walking about in a bubble, and we'll need to find a happy medium. Most likely it's primarily an issue of becoming accustomed to the sensation. Try moving about to get a feel for it. I doubt it's quite as bad as it initially seems." Not that he'd ever tried it on himself, of course, but it stood to reason...

Crooks does as suggested, and has to admit - only to himself, obviously - it isn't nearly as bad as he first thought, not that he likes the feeling of being encased in a skintight suit in the least. After a little stretching, he's able to move quite freely, but yes, a little looser, a little more breathing room would be nice. Matters aren't helped any that this isn't natural in the least. He sits in front of the wizard waiting expectantly, and is pleasantly surprised when the man interprets his posture correctly and adjusts the spell instead of simply feeding him more bacon. Not, mind, that Crooks would have objected to more of the savoury morsels, but he's quietly confident now that he'll have the remainder before they're through. They seem to have established a rapport. Once the Charm is complete, he crosses and recrosses the sill, and this time the odd magical suit is a great deal looser. His first impression is satisfactory. Almost good even, until the wizard asks him to move about and test it some and they realise he now bounces - most disconcertingly and rather high - with every more pronounced step, to say nothing whatsoever of his leaps...

Absolutely unacceptable!

It's very nearly as bad as a Bubble Body Jinx, and of course there are reasons that wouldn't be seen as an acceptable solution in the least.

The wizard manages not to laugh (a true challenge when confronted with a half-Kneazle bouncyball), rising slightly once again in Crooks' estimation. "Shall we make it tighter once more?" He asks, managing not to sound too patronising. The look Crooks gives him answers the stupid question succinctly enough. "As tight as before, or would you care for another experiment?" Crooks glares once more. "Very well," he replies, returning the Charm to its first iteration. Crooks still feels the need to check to make sure, and Severus warms to the cynicism - he himself would have done no less - waiting patiently until the animal is done. Once satisfied, or as close to satisfied as Crooks can come, the odd duo re-enter their flat.

The half-Kneazle... Crookshanks gives him something of a dirty look, and once again Severus interprets it correctly. "I told you wouldn't enjoy it." The feline relaxes a little at that. There's something to be said for someone communicating clearly and honestly, and even if he wasn't precisely pleased with the results, how absurd, that's something he knows enough to value, and finally he lets the resentment go.

The wards ripple as the elder Hutchinson boy apparently finally sees fit to drag himself to breakfast, almost unconscionably late. Severus has to suppress a smirk at the thought as he himself has skived in magnificent fashion once again. But mornings are unquestionably a good deal more pleasant with less time spent in the Great Hall. Pity he couldn't justify it more often.

"There are people with allergies who live in the building and I have a duty of care," Severus explains to the half-Kneazle as they enter the kitchen, further pretending he isn't currently shirking his duties as best he can. To be honest, had it only been Crabbe with the fur sensitivity, he probably would have found a way around this solution. Crookshanks' reaction, however, is making him wonder how Minerva addresses such problems as a Head of House, because the ginger creature was clearly unfamiliar with the Charm. Severus has a suspicion the old tabby hadn't seen her way clear to the Cling Film, perhaps having too much sympathy for the felines and too little for the students with allergies, and had simply barred the animals access to areas of the castle. A... bold approach, but then again, what were the chances Crabbe would ever visit the Gryffindor tower, say.

It crosses his mind that Minerva's more casual solution might benefit from the fact the students with allergies aren't in her House. He weighs the tacit implications against his colleague's track record, and decides he probably isn't even being overly cynical for once. A tendency on the part of staff to precisely such attitudes had always been a problem inherent in the division of the students into Houses as they were.

Severus sets the small plate with the rest of the bacon down on what he's come to think of as its designated spot on the floor next to what's left of the kitchen island. The animal rubs against him, purring gratefully before pouncing on his bounty. A pleasant sensation, that low rumble against his leg.

It's a little strange how much Miss Granger and Crookshanks have integrated themselves into life in their quarters. Odder still, that he doesn't entirely... mind the changes - except on principle, obviously; that was virtually an imperative - although Pomona's flowers are very unaccustomed indeed. And yet... They do look nice in the vase that reminds him of his mum. He watches the animal consume his reward with gusto, and finds he's pleased, too, that Crookshanks seems to have seen sense.

It leaves him feeling generous and brings him to a final decision before he leaves to greet his day, and scanning the exterior wall, he selects a spot immediately next to the stairs to his new study and under the counter-cum-windowseat extension, and casts the Caterwalling Charm. He's quick to ward it, and re-ward it, and it's no coincidence that the wards are particularly brutal just there, but it's a very sincere sign of his acceptance of the half-Kneazle's presence that he's willing to risk another entry point to his home without careful consideration of all the ramifications first. (Somewhat high-handedly, although his experience legitimises the attitude, he expects he can perform any necessary modifications later. It's not as though anyone would even know to look for the vulnerability to their chambers, but it doesn't pay to be careless.)

"This might be more to your liking," he points to the new entrance. Crooks approaches, sniffing it curiously. The scents are puzzling, and he looks to the wizard in confusion. The wall, half rather satisfyingly of glass, providing him a most entertaining view of life beneath the Lake's surface, is all that's between them and an immeasurably large amount of water, Crooks is sure. Were he a lesser feline - an oxymoron if ever there were one - he might find that expanse of water and the threat it implies daunting. He does not. He trusts, too, to the strength of the magic all around him. But the immediacy of the Lake makes it all the odder that the opening before him smells of outside. Fresh air with the crisp scent of winter in Scotland...

"It's a tunnel outdoors," Severus clarifies. An exceptionally long tunnel outside, but then it's easy to understand how a wizard might not think twice about its length as they're never forced to walk the distance themselves.

"While it might be best were you to be present when Miss Granger returns to quarters - she'd have no way of knowing where you've gone," Severus can practically hear her plaintive cries of 'Crooks? Crooks?', "otherwise you may come and go as you please." Crooks quite likes the sound of that, and immediately forgives the man for mistaking him for a Crup earlier. Humans frankly can't help their limitations. "There's no Cling Film needed there either."

The mention is evidently all that's required to see the animal disappearing into the tunnel with a meow of glee, and feeling oddly pleased with himself, Severus decides to finally put in an appearance of his own at breakfast. There's no sense putting it off any longer, he thinks as he, too, leaves their quarters behind him.

It had probably made more of a difference than he'd thought of not wishing to appear without his bondmate, not wanting to emphasise their... relationship or lack of one, he looks at his ring... This delay suggested he'd been kept for... reasons, he'd been busy, had better things to do. The feline at least was certainly likely to agree, he adds with amusement. But his tardiness offered, suggested a reason for their not arriving together. He's a little surprised to find it isn't just for show. This actually bothers him on some level.

Possibly those notions of his about marriage continue to play too great a role in his behaviour. This shouldn't surprise him either, he's required to be so flexible in so many things that he's become incredibly rigid so many others.

He's still thinking about what changes - if any - that might dictate he needs to make when he reaches the Entrance Hall.

Hogwarts is a dangerous place; anyone who claims otherwise is a liar or a fool of the first water. Poppy prides herself - enormously - in seeing as many of her charges just as safely through their time in the castle as humanly possible. Considering some of the challenges she's faced, some might argue it's been a sheer inhuman effort in fact. She's not a young witch anymore, she's become accustomed to a great many things in her tenure in the Infirmary, and her sensible approach to solutions might strike students sometimes as not caring enough. And yet her failures and the near misses get under her skin in a way few of her patients would ever imagine given her typically businesslike demeanour.

One such incredibly close scrape was just last spring. As long as she lives, she'll never forget the look of Mr. Malfoy when Severus rushed into the Infirmary with him in his arms, the boy's shirt tattered and blood soaked, very visible angry scars livid against the preternatural paleness of his skin... And that was despite the Potions Master carrying Blood Replenisher on him. She has a suspicion he has never forgotten that moment either - surely it had been worse for him, he'd found the boy bleeding out and had to save him after all. She has reason to suspect Severus now carries a good deal more of the Potion with him wherever he goes; she deems those suspicions all but confirmed, because sadly he'd need of it himself in recent months. Somewhat guiltily, in that light, more than once she's struggled not to think of the inciting incident as a blessing in disguise. And somehow that guilt made the whole affair just that much worse.

There's a frankly startling slam of the double doors and a great deal of commotion.

Given her experiences and her strong feelings about them, it's easier to understand why Poppy freezes for a moment; her reaction wouldn't have been any more pronounced had a basilisk taken the Infirmary doors.

There's a large clutch of students breathing heavily in the entrance and crying for help, but at the moment she only has eyes for one.

There stands young Mr. Malfoy, his white uniform dress shirt once again stained deep crimson with blood. He's pale despite his obvious exertions. Later she'll realise it was from the shocks of the morning, but at the moment all she can think of is that afternoon he'd nearly died in her ward.

Experienced Mediwitch or no, her heart plummets at the sight.

She recovers at their continued screams for help, thoroughly ashamed of her response, particularly when she thinks Wanda may just have moved to assist them before she had. (If that's the case, she can only hope the Nurse failed to note it, or she'll never live it down.)

"Madam Pomfrey!" the seventh year Prefect screams, "We need your help!"

Two of the Slytherins' other Prefects tow another seventh year behind them, floating curiously above their heads. It recalls the image from Tuesday night of one of the other boys - Mr. Crabbe, currently astraddle a broom for some reason - being dragged from the Infirmary by two of his Housemates. Idly Poppy thinks they simply aren't very good with the Mobilicorpus in that House, a touch unfair as they're better than most for too often having need of it.

Miss Wilkins begins immediately with a recitation of injuries to Mr. Goyle's foot, it's more difficult to follow as the elder Miss Greengrass and Mr. Malfoy attempt to explain what's happened to Mr. Nott's foot as well, and all three are ultimately completely drowned out by Mr. Crabbe's bellowed complaints about his own appendages.

Apparently it's been quite the morning for feet in the dungeons. Poppy's long stopped questioning it.

Ah, but for a bit of variety Mr. Zabini starts moaning about his arm. Well, that rounds the picture out nicely. Admittedly her response might have been a little more sympathetic were it not the five seventh year Slytherin boys arrayed before her.

Afterwards she'll be a little embarrassed by her reaction, but her first impulse is to use a small bevy of diagnostic charms to ascertain Mr. Malfoy is unharmed. It's particularly ironic considering her own treatment of the lad after his fall just this week.

When Severus had Mobilicorpused him in on Sunday evening, it had been a tidy affair. Broken limbs, the treatment straightforward. Painful, beyond any doubt, but not life threatening. And nary a drop of blood. Then too, that shocking mental image of Mr. Malfoy from last year had become overlaid somewhat by the memory of Miss Granger, Madam Snape appearing in a far too similar state, bloodied in Severus' arms - although unquestionably far less injured - only this past Friday. Somehow the sight of the boy like this makes a very real difference. It just reminds Poppy too much of the attack on him, and that memory sits badly with her. She's all too aware of what happened in the aftermath of it as well, that Mr. Potter had done no more than serve detention for his frankly criminal assault...

She has an understanding of what that might do to a person, considering Severus. She knows that he was much changed after the... incident as a lad with the Gryffindors and, well, what Mr. Lupin had become under the willow that night. The injuries hadn't been so bad, not in the same category as Mr. Malfoy's by any means, but it was a narrow escape, and a terrifying experience and she's always thought a good many things that came later originated from that evening and Albus' handling of the matter.

She also has a very good idea what these five boys had done Friday night, or at least, she assumes it's these five; some of the sixth years might also be candidates, and possibly Mr. Burke, it's hard to say. (And there, her bias shows yet again as she judges that particular boy almost solely by the family's name. Oddly most seem to forget not a one of the Burkes had joined the Death Eaters in the last war.) She'd had little enough sympathy for the boys whenever they entered her domain this week, some more than once, but this... this gives her pause for a moment, has her seeing them as people again. Mr. Goyle's injuries yesterday had briefly come close, but once she determined they were self-inflicted, the result of near insurmountable stupidity...

Of course any sympathy she might muster is likely to last only until she sees another of their victims - Madam Snape or Severus, either will probably do the trick - but for a moment, there's an entrée here. It shows perhaps most clearly when Mr. Weasley speaks up during a slight lull in the Slytherins' hectic presentation.

"What did you do this time, Malfoy?" His glee is all too apparent.

The ginger's thoroughly tasteless Halloween costume from two weeks prior comes instantly to mind, and a few things become a little clearer for the Mediwitch, a sense of how several things may have come to pass. She's generally a good judge of character and the interpersonal dynamics in the castle, and she's remarkably close to the truth in some of those suppositions.

"Shut your mouth, Mr. Weasley, or I will shut it for you." Her tone brooks no arguments, and Ron resumes his whinging to Lav and Fay. Somewhat predictably, it's now of a more aggrieved nature.

Despite their current situation, the Matron's admonishment of the Weasel almost makes Draco smile. What it definitely does is make him stop and breathe. That should do wonders for his comprehensibility.

Vince flies forward, pushing for Nurse Wainscott to see to his feet, her Diagnostic Charms assure her he'll be easily sorted and then she can send him on his way. There are altogether too many students milling about for Wanda's comfort. Poppy would chide her for her poor prioritisation, but she'll be too busy chastising herself instead for scanning Mr. Malfoy first. To be fair, it was simply a question of establishing the diagnoses. Once a further spell confirms the extra body parts young Malfoy is carrying aren't his own, Helga's heartstrings, she's immediately moved on to the next of the boys.

"Mr. Malfoy, would you care to give me those toes?" She asks, extending her left hand towards him almost imperiously, even as she casts Diagnostic Charms on Gregory with her right.

It strikes Draco as strange, both that the Matron seems to know what's in his pocket and that she doesn't ask to whom they belong, because he's sure she couldn't understand a thing he and the others had said. He certainly hadn't, and he'd had the benefit of knowing what had happened, after all. The blond quickly does as bidden without objections, although he's still trying to explain why he'd packed them in an Ebublio Jinx. For her part, Poppy is confident her scans will tell her everything she needs to know rather more quickly than interrogating students tends to and doesn't pay him much attention.

Mr. Goyle's foot is most concerning, Mr. Nott's still more so... And she now properly identifies the owner of the aforementioned toes now Mobilicorpused a touch bizarrely beside her. Paradoxically Mr. Zabini, while not as urgent, will be the most difficult to treat of all. He'll doubtlessly be pleased to hear it, she is sure.

Calling for Polly to fetch Mr. Malfoy a new shirt - she can't begin to articulate how much she feels the need to have the bloodied one gone - the Mediwitch Summons and distributes a round of Pain Relieving Potions to the injured boys, Miss Wilkins intervening to pour a phial's contents down Mr. Goyle's throat. Apparently there are issues with his hands as well, not that Poppy's scan had revealed anything there in particular...

NOTE TO SELF: CROSSPOST FAIL. Published on LJ and imported to DW.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

From:

grooot.livejournal.com

Lavender is every woman in a relationship with a mediocre man. Lamooooo.

Poppy continues to delight in this story. Great chapter!

From: (Anonymous)

Sev interacting with Crooks night just be my favorite part of this whole story lol

snapecentric1.livejournal.com

Love Snape and Crooks! At least theboys made it with much help of course. And Ron and Lav, well, no surprises there.

mywitch.livejournal.com

Awesome — Crooks gets to go outside, oh he'll be chuffed! And Hermione will be so pleased that Severus has made yet another welcoming remodel to their home. How can she not adore him?

I love that Snape is sort of blissfully unaware of what the parade of foot injuries hustling past his door entails. Keep him in the dark as long as possible, I say. He's got enough to be getting on with.

I do hope Hermione's rash teenage remarks to Fay don't cause too much trouble.

It's been so fun finally catching up on Days of Our Slytherins. You are such a magnificent and entertaining writer, G. I love this fic!

shaelia.livejournal.com

Severus called the rooms "theirs" without hesitation or self-correction. Progress! Yes!

As always, the Crooks x Sev duo is delightful, especially the little cat ("Half-Kneazle!") mannerisms and asides, like "lesser feline" being an oxymoron.

I'm glad that this chapter humanized the boys, while reinforcing why I strongly dislike Crabbe. I hope he finds some redemption, or, barring that, some neutralizing force to permanently reduce the threat he poses to others.