Reunions

REUNIONS - Part 6

By Crazy Taxi

Chapter 11

Severus Snape sat quietly reading a book in the staff room. It was June, it was fantastic weather, the N.E.W.T.s and O.W.L.s were finally marked and it was time to relax.

In a chair near by Filius Flitwick sat reading the current issue of The Daily Prophet. He was humming to himself, which was slowly sending Severus insane. He took a deep breath and tried to remain calm. He felt sure that the little man knew exactly what he was doing. Everybody else said he was paranoid, said that they didn't hear the noise, but he knew better. The little git only did it when nobody else was around. True to form the humming stopped when Minerva McGonagall walked into the room. Severus closed his eyes and imagined his hands choking the life out of...

"So!" Minerva shook him out of his rather pleasant fantasy. "Anybody want to change their bet?"

Minerva was in a buoyant mood, she had been ever since the resounding Gryffindor victory over Ravenclaw that weekend. Severus was glad to see Flitwick bristle at her remark.

"No thank you Minerva, my dear." He smiled sweetly, his head waggling in that way that was guaranteed to put Severus' teeth on edge.

"Severus?"

"I have every confidence in my students," Snape replied.

"Ah, planning to take away an even more outrageous number of house points from your rivals? You're in third place now you know, since the 'Malfoy Incident'."

Severus smiled a thin smile. "Quite how you didn't lose all your house points after the 'Potter Incident' I don't know...no, wait, he's Potter after all." He spat out the boy's name. He just loved watching Minerva's face when he did that.

"We should be thankful that he made it back alive," she replied calmly.

"Yes, I'm planning a party."

McGonagall pursed her lips, picked up the book she'd come for and left. Severus smiled quietly to himself.

He had, of course, planned a new campaign of house point deduction the moment the match was over. The rest of them saw it as cheating, he saw it as levelling the playing field and he had precious little time. As a head of house he received the breakdown of house point deductions from every class once a month. He couldn't help but notice that in almost every class Slytherins lost by far the most points of any house. Certainly this was in part because they could be annoying, arrogant and disrespectful, but that didn't cover it all.

The rest of the staff prided themselves on their sense of fair play, derided Severus and his Slytherins for underhand tactics, when all the while they were cheating his own students out of hard earned house points. Minerva was the worst, followed closely by Hagrid, Sprout and Figg. Even Professor Sinistra had a less than perfect record. The only member of staff who was thus far 'in the black' was his sister. Sure, it was close but he was pleased to see his Slytherins come out a little ahead. It wasn't enough to draw attention to herself, but he appreciated her efforts. She knew exactly how angry it made him. He slammed his book shut. The bastard was humming again. He stood suddenly just as the door opened and Attica walked in. She glanced around the room before smiling broadly.

"Hello there."

"Hello," he grunted as he passed her.

"What's up with you?"

"He's humming again."

"No he's not."

Sure enough the annoying little man had stopped again.

"But..." Severus began.

"Look don't you think..." she countered.

"No I am not imagining it!" he snapped before storming out of the room. Maybe Dumbledore had the O.W.L. results. That would surely cheer him up.

Attica stood for a moment regarding Flitwick through narrowed eyes.

"You are very evil, you know that don't you?"

Filius Flitwick smiled slightly and went back to his paper.

*****

Meanwhile Harry sat in the Gryffindor common room trying to ignore what was going on.

This was the bloody limit. He'd not said anything for four months now, ever since he'd got back from his encounter with Voldemort he'd bitten his lip and looked the other way. But they were at it again, and worse this time.

Snogging in the common room, wasn't there a rule against that? And Hermione was a prefect, she ought to know better. Harry sighed. Maybe he was just being juvenile? Maybe it was his lack of a girlfriend that was abnormal? Maybe he was jealous because of his failed attempt at chatting up Cho at the May Ball?

Nope. Don't think so. It simply has to be illegal.

"What?" Ron looked up.

"Come up for breath?" Harry was aware that he sounded rather sulky.

"Harry, if you've got a problem you know you can talk to us."

"Really?" he replied with more bitterness than he'd intended.

"Sure. This...er....well, it doesn't change anything."

Harry looked at him. How could he possibly believe that? It changed everything.

"Ron's right Harry."

"Since when did you two ever agree on anything?"

"Since...well..."

"Oh good grief."

"Harry," Hermione said imploringly, "please don't be like this. I am so happy, isn't that a good thing?"

"Are you? Are you really?" Ron asked.

Hermione smiled lovingly at him. Harry thought he might just be sick.

"Me too." Ron was grinning like an idiot.

Harry feared that heavy smooching might break out again but mercifully they appeared to remember he was there.

"Harry, I don't know what to say to you," Hermione said finally. "I know it must be hard. You must feel shut out, but I don't want that. I don't ever want our relationship to change." She shifted over to him and gave him a peck on the cheek. "I do love you, you know."

She really did have a winning smile.

"Besides, the results should be out any time now. Come on!"

Hermione leaped up. Harry and Ron followed her out of the common room rather reluctantly. Down in the Great Hall students were gathering, waiting for the posting of the O.W.L.s results. Mostly it was just the fifth years, but a few others had come to watch, this was one of the events of the years. Public glory or humiliation. Harry feared that he knew which.

Fortunately the last four months had been very quiet. He'd seen Sirius and Remus often as they came and went frequently. There had been no more breaches of the wards, as far as he knew, and he was gradually having fewer and fewer nightmares. Even so, he had found revising difficult. He had swung between a blissful acceptance of his fate, during which times revision seemed pointless, and shear panic, when revision was impossible. It seemed so irrelevant. Why did he need to know about astronomy and divinations when Lord Voldemort could strike at any time?

He'd continued to pay attention in his private lessons of course. They at least seemed useful. He'd been taught duelling by Professor Escoban, and Professor Figg had explained the importance of reading Muggle newspapers. Apparently The News of the World was the only paper that reliably reported the sighting of flying carpets and the like (the broadsheets generally regarded such sources as too mentally unstable to believe) so it was a good way to find out about strange happenings and the occasional mass murder.

And then, just two weeks ago, the biggest exams of his life had hit him like a Bludger.

As if in slow motion he saw Dumbledore come through the door at the far end of the hall and nail the results sheets to a large board. As soon as he turned to leave there was a mad rush to get at them. Harry hung back, so did Ron.

"Expecting the worst, eh Potter?"

Harry hadn't the energy to reply, he merely threw a V sign in Malfoy's direction.

"Now, now, no need to get nasty."

Harry heard sniggering as they passed. He stuck out his foot and Tracey Davis went sprawling.

"Er...sorry," he said, mortified.

"Piss off Potter," she snarled as Malfoy helped her up.

"Stupid bloody Slytherin," Ron muttered.

But Harry was watching as she walked away. Suddenly he was reminded of Escoban's project. Harry had been sure about only one Slytherin, Tracey Davis. Escoban had agreed. He also thought maybe Blaise Zabini? Again, she'd agreed. Apparently he had next year to work on the third so she hadn't enlightened him. Escoban had also said that it was little things that tipped the balance. Harry hoped he hadn't just tipped it the wrong way.

"Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god!"

Hermione was back.

"Have you seen yet?" she asked, her face flushed.

They shook their heads.

"Have you seen ours?" Ron asked miserably.

"I was about to when I got shoved out of the way by Goyle."

"So how brilliantly did you do?"

Hermione's complexion turned an even deeper shade of red.

"Go on, tell us," Harry urged.

"Ten A's!" She was grinning from ear to ear.

"Well you deserve it," Harry said. "Come on Ron, let's go."

Ron looked nervously at Harry, gave Hermione a big kiss, told her how happy he was for her and made his way towards the far side of the room as if to his execution. By the time they got there the crush had died down a little. They managed to squeeze through and began scanning the list. Harry heart seemed to stop...

*****

"Fine Minerva, so he's not as stupid as he looks!" Severus spat as he stormed out of the staff room for the second time in under an hour.

Minerva was standing next to the results sheet Dumbledore had just pinned up. Top of the year, Hermione Granger. Predictable that one. Professor McGonagall was ten galleons up. Second in the year, Terry Boot. Now that was a surprise. He was one of the quietest students she knew. His results put Flitwick up five galleons. Third in the year, Harry Potter. Minerva beamed. Two Gryffindors already and a Ravenclaw. Fourth a Hufflepuff, Susan Bones, a very hard worker that one, fifth Padma Patil and sixth Draco Malfoy. Minerva tried not to smirk and failed miserably. Severus was down twenty galleons. Harry had beaten his best Slytherin, he was furious.

"Are the results out?"

Attica Snape had just arrived carrying a ludicrous number of parchments. She dumped them on the large staff table. They spilled over and slid onto the floor. Minerva resisted the urge to tidy them up.

"What's the damage?"

"You owe me five I'm afraid," Minerva replied.

"Oh?"

"Gryffindor have four in the top ten, Slytherin two."

"You're kidding."

"Take a look for yourself."

She did and was depressed to see how poorly some of them had done. Only Malfoy and Zabini had got the marks they should have. And Crabbe and Goyle she supposed, since nobody had expected them to get more than one a piece.

She scanned down the list. Names sprang out at her. Ron Weasley had got a respectable two A's, five Bs and a C's. She was pleased for him. Fred and George had done surprisingly well in their N.E.W.T.s and she hadn't wanted the poor boy to be disappointed. Neville had a surprising three A's and two B's, and a predictable F. She didn't have to look at which subject that had been. Harry had done remarkably well, especially considering the strain he'd been under. Six A's and a B in potions. That must have really killed Severus. Although she supposed that it was some consolation that he got to spoil Harry's perfect record.

She shook her head. She could remember when she'd got her N.E.W.T.s results. That had been a pretty bloody depressing day. Top, Lily Evans, second, James Potter, third some Ravenclaw, fourth, Severus (YES!), fifth, Sirius Black (NO FUCKING WAY!), sixth...well, she could exactly remember. What she did remember is that she'd come lower than Potter, Black, Lupin and bloody Pettigrew, and she had thought she was going to die. Minerva seemed to sense which way her thoughts were drifting.

"You can pay me later."

"No, no. Here you are."

She pulled out the coins and left Minerva in her glory. I bet they win the bloody house cup as well, she thought as she closed the door behind her.

*****

And sure enough they did. Harry was still smiling as he got on the Hogwarts express. Even the thought of going back to the Dursleys couldn't dispel the delicious feeling he had when he remembered the look on Malfoy's face. And he'd beaten him in the O.W.L.s, and they'd won the Quidditch cup. What a year!

Ron sat down next to Hermione in their compartment having just managed to get his bag into the overhead basket. He looked thrilled, Hermione was going to be spending time at The Burrow that summer and Harry was going to try to persuade Dumbledore that he could go along as well. All three of them watched the platform as the train pulled out and waved madly to Hagrid who was just about as proud of them as he ever had been. He'd almost cried when they'd told him their results.

Back at the castle the staff wandered the halls checking that everybody was away and then finally made their way to the staff room. Inside the House Elves had laid out all their favourite foods and enough alcohol to floor a medium sized town. Some of them were already well on the way to inebriation.

Dumbledore sat by the fire contemplating the speech that he customarily gave, watching the staff celebrate the beginning of the holidays. Minerva was beside herself with joy, Severus was still fuming (Slytherin had only lost by fifteen points) and it looked like their current Dark Arts Professor was going to last more than a year.

And what a year. 'The Malfoy Incident', 'the Potter Incident', the raids. Yes, it seemed they'd dodged a few bullets. Although they'd never got to the bottom of the missing objects.

Smiling to himself he rose and quietly began to speak.

*****

Chapter 12

Harmon Zabini handed the camera to his master bowing low. Voldemort raised it up, muttered an incantation and watched as the back flipped open and photographs flew into the air arranging themselves into a neat pile in front of him.

He picked them up and started to flip through them. As he did so his expression shifted from one of anticipation to ill-disguised anger. Zabini shrank back a little. Had his son screwed up?

"Hmm, Harlon...tell me, why would your son think I'd be interested in this?"

Lord Voldemort held up a picture of a Quidditch match.

"Not very illuminating...and Slytherin is loosing."

"My Lord..."

"Or this?"

He held out a shot of a girl with bushy ginger hair.

"My Lord, the other boy..."

"CRUCIO!"

Zabini writhed on the floor as the Dark Lord flicked through a few more photographs.

"Now wait a minute," Voldemort continued.

Zabini lay on the floor fighting for breath, but relieved the curse had been lifted for the moment.

"This one I like. I could put it on my wall and throw darts at it!"

Voldemort held up a picture of Harry Potter smiling sheepishly out of the photograph. Upon seeing where he was, the image promptly tried escaping, but there was nowhere to go.

"Yes...most amusing. Not much help in discovering Hogwarts' weaknesses though."

"No, My Lord."

Voldemort flicked through a number of photographs showing the Slytherin Common Room and grounds of Hogwarts. He was unimpressed. None of them revealed anything he didn't already know.

"You really are..."

Voldemort stopped at one photograph. He held it up to the light, scrutinising it.

"Well, well, well. This might actually have made the whole debacle worth while."

He tossed the photo at the man, who scanned it. He saw no one of interest. It was a crowd scene at a Quidditch match. People were moving in and out of the shot.

"Recognise anyone?"

"Er...no My Lord?"

"The tall blonde walking through the back of the shot...I believe you went to school with her although she has changed somewhat."

Zabini studied the picture again, perplexed.

"Well I never forget a face," Voldemort hissed eventually.

Voldemort casually beckoned Zabini to him. The man shuddered as he drew close, then fell to the ground as his master pressed a skeletal finger to the mark on his arm.

"Severus Snape," Lord Voldemort said quietly.

And hundreds of miles away the potions professor felt his left arm burn.

THE END