Love is Out to Get Me

Love is Out to Get Me - Part 2/4

The Time Dial is the mother of all time turners. A time turner can do one thing--send the person or people who are wearing it back in time in hour long increments and bring them back again. A Time Dial, on the other hand, can manipulate time in all sorts of fun ways. Very few Time Dials were ever created in the first place, and they were all supposed to be turned in and destroyed hundreds of years ago. That's why the possession of one is a criminal offence, which is all well and good if you're not Albus Dumbledore. He has one. It belongs to Hogwarts, I think, and he's never seen fit to have it destroyed, thankfully. We need it for the plan.

We're making Snape relive The Day He Died (that's what I've taken to calling it) until he gets it right. And that means, according to Weasley, "When he ends the day in bed with Hermione! Nothing less. They've both obviously wanted to do it for ages, and they're driving me mad." That's the plan.

On the Friday after The Day Snape Died, we (meaning Dumbledore, Weasley, Lupin, and I) sat on cushy red chairs in Dumbledore's office and waited for midnight. Dumbledore opened the bottom left-hand drawer of his desk and lifted out what I (correctly) assumed was the Time Dial. It was in a violet colored crushed velvet pouch, embroidered in shiny pink thread with stars, moons, and flowers. It didn't even have a drawstring, it had a satin bow.

"That's a lovely purse you have there, Dumbledore," I told him. If anyone is wizard enough to keep his dangerous, illegal magical artifacts in a purse, it's Dumbledore.

"It's not a purse, it's a magical bag! It shields the Time Dial from remote magical detection," he told me.

Yeah, sure it does. "Okay, Tinky Winky."

Lupin looked at me oddly. Weasley acted like she didn't notice. Maybe she likes television too. Anyhow, Dumbledore took the Time Dial out of its magical bag and fiddled with some knobs on its surface. I'm not considered the best Auror around for nothing, it seemed to me like Dumbledore knew exactly what he was doing with the highly dangerous, highly illegal magical artifact, as if he'd used it many times before. But I'll just let that one pass. I, on the other hand, do not possess a dangerous, illegal Time Dial and cannot tell you exactly how it works, exactly. I think I'll just start with what I saw.

First of all, it should really be called the Time Dials, but nobody listens to me about these things. (In protest, I think I'll call it the Time Dials.) It looks like a crystal ball, only bigger, and it's covered with a lot of different jeweled buttons and screws and dials-within-dials. If you look in between all of the jeweled hodgepodge, you can see through the crystal to the center of the ball where a lot of little golden gears turn around, sort of floating in there. Dumbledore gave a running commentary of what he was doing for my benefit. (He knew what he was doing, Lupin gleefully informed me that he knew all about it as well, it was his idea, after all. And Lupin had already told Weasley, of course. Gryffindor House loyalty, I think. That and he fancies her, I'm sure of it.)

"This ruby dial is for location. I am setting it so that only Hogwarts will be in the loop. Once Professor Snape has completed Saturday to our satisfaction, I will allow us to slip out of the loop and relive the last week. I think it will be more pleasant the second time around. Then we will rejoin the rest of the world's time, and it will be as if the first version of last week never happened. That is what I am doing with this onyx bit here. There is only one thing left, these topaz dials. Their position determines who will be aware that the day is repeating itself. The four of us know and will not forget it, and Professor Snape will realize it no later than the staff meeting, I daresay. The students and the rest of the professors will be blissfully unaware. Do try and keep it that way."

Then we waited for the stroke of midnight, when Dumbledore flicked the on switch. (That's right--the Time Dial has an on switch. It's not labeled or anything, but there's a little piece of turquoise on top, and that's what it's for.) Instead of a week from last Saturday, it was last Saturday. Of course, it was still twelve o'clock in the morning--past my bedtime.

When I woke up, I ate breakfast in the guest rooms where I had slept. Then I changed into my animagus form and waited for Weasley to come and take me to the staff meeting. Dumbledore thought--and I agreed with him--that no students or professors should notice Mad-Eye Moody lurking about the school when he should be at his job in London, so Lupin and Weasley agreed to carry me to the staff meeting, lunch and supper, and the quidditch game. The rest of the time I planned on hiding in corners and behind statues to watch Snape and Granger. My animagus form is a groundhog. Not as noble as the mighty badger, I'll admit--Helga Hufflepuff herself was a badger animagus--but I'm a fine burrowing mammal just the same.

Weasley came and put me in her bag (which was very warm, dark, and cozy, I must say.) Anyway, she took me to the staff meeting, and after she sat at the table she surreptitiously dumped me out of the bag and onto her lap.

Snape and Granger were both on time, no surprises there. Granger told him good morning and asked him if he was looking forward to the quidditch match this afternoon, that sort of thing. He didn't say anything for a moment, and then, "What quidditch match?"

"The Gryffindor-Slytherin one that you're refereeing, of course. We're going to trounce you," she said.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," he said tersely, as Flitwick and Sprout hurried into the room.

"Professor Snape, may I have a word with you in the hall before we begin the meeting?" said Dumbledore. I suppose he thought he ought to fill Snape in on the Plan. I say that we should have let him sweat a little, figure it out for himself, but we've already established that nobody listens to me about these things.

A few seconds later Snape flung open the door and stormed back into the room. "Out! Everybody out, except you and you!" Then Dumbledore stepped in behind him. "And you!" shouted Snape.

"Professor Snape! What is the matter with you?" McGonagall sounded appalled. Ah, well, she needed some excitement.

"Be thankful that it doesn't concern you!" he snapped.

"I am terribly sorry, Professor McGonagall. I think it would be best if I cancelled the meeting. I suspect that we would not have been productive anyway. Would everyone please excuse Professors Snape, Weasley, and Lupin, and me?" Dumbledore said.

The other professors filed out of the room without protest. (They probably expected to hear the story from Weasley later. She's a bit of a gossip, in my opinion.) When they left, Lupin picked me up off of Weasley's lap and set me on the table.

"What is that creature?" asked Snape.

"It's a groundhog," said Lupin.

"A what?"

"A groundhog. You know, a woodchuck."

"Yes, Lupin, but what is it doing on the table? And more to the point, what made the three of you think that putting Hogwarts in a time loop was a good idea? I will make it very clear to you. It is a bad idea, one that is likely to end us all in Azkaban, one of the worst I have ever had the displeasure of experiencing. Not to mention that what does or does not happen between Professor Granger and myself is none of your--" At this point I thought that somebody needed to talk sense into the man, and since nobody was speaking up, I transformed back into my regular body.

"Alastor Moody. Why am I not surprised? Of course you would be involved. Moody, Dumbledore, Lupin, and Weasley, idiot meddlers at large. And get off the table, you look ridiculous. Do you have any idea how dangerous it is to change time just so--" Blah, blah, blah. Snape was ranting. I stopped paying attention somewhere around the idiot comment.

"See here, Snape," I told him. "You obviously don't know how to fix this situation, so we're helping you."

"You ought to be grateful," said Weasley. Lupin nodded enthusiastically.

"I refuse to go along with this. You think it is a silly game, but it is not. You should have destroyed that toy years ago, Albus."

"Oh, come off it, Snape," I said. "All you have to do is be nice to Granger. And take her to bed tonight. But Weasley says you're perfect for each other and Granger will be all for it, so that shouldn't be a problem. Then we'll put the time back for you, and no one will be the wiser. I don't know why you've got such a broomstick stuck up your--"

"Thank you, Alastor," said Dumbledore. (Am I the only one who notices his timing? He's always stepping in with those damn cryptic comments, exactly when you wish he would stay out of it, and of course he never says anything when you need him to. I can't for the life of me figure it out.)

"Done is done, Professor Snape, I'm afraid you have no choice in the matter," said Dumbledore.

"As I said, I will not play into your scheme. I will do exactly what I did last Saturday," said Snape.

"Maybe we can't force you to be nice to her, but we can make you relive the day over and over and over again. You'll get sick of it eventually, especially the dying part. Even if you said you didn't want to sleep with Hermione, you can't possibly expect us to believe you think it would be worse than going through that quidditch match again," said Lupin, rolling his eyes at the last part. (I have a sneaking suspicion that I'm the only one who enjoyed that quidditch match.)

"You lot are out of your minds." Snape was grasping at straws now, as if anyone would deny that were true.

"Well, that's not the issue here, Snape. The issue is that you were a prat last Saturday, and we're on Granger's side, which means we're making you fix it. Someone needs to give you a good kick in the right direction or you'll never get into her--"

"Thank you, Alastor," said Dumbledore.

Snape certainly meant what he said about not changing the way he lived (or didn't) last Saturday. There was a quidditch match, it was a hoot, he ended up dead, but all was well in the end, except for Granger's bruised pride and hurt feelings. You know the story, so I'll just tell you about lunch.

It was Lupin's turn to carry me in his bag. He sat next to Weasley on one side and an empty chair on the other. That's where he put me and the bag. Weasley and Lupin were having an animated discussion about butter. Weasley asked the house-elves to send some special butter with her meal. Some kind of low calorie not-butter, I expect it's a Muggle thing. She made Lupin try it.

"I can't believe it's not butter!" he said.

"It's not! Isn't that great? The things Muggles think of..."

Well, this I had to see. How can Muggle not-butter be as good as regular butter? I stood up in my chair and sniffed. It did kind of smell like butter. I needed to lick it to make sure though...

"Get down! What do you think you're doing?" That was Lupin. The nerve. I bit him.

Sure enough, the not-butter tastes (almost) like real butter. And like I said, it's low calorie (you remember that.) I was pleased about this discovery; unfortunately, a lot of the students (and the professors) seemed to notice that there was a groundhog eating fake butter on top the staff table. They pointed and laughed at me (except for McGonagall, who was annoyed and said something about rodents on dinner tables being unhygienic.) It was not a disaster because Weasley had thought up a plan, something she had heard about from her father, in case I was discovered sniffing around the school. A sub-plan, if you will.

"Gather round, everyone!" she shouted to the students. "Especially if you're a Divination student, there might be a quiz! Has anyone heard of Groundhog Day?"

"Yes!" someone shouted. "But it's in February!"

"Err...yes. But this is a special groundhog. On the third of May, at noon, this groundhog can predict the upcoming summer weather. It's almost noon, is it not, Professor Lupin?"

Lupin looked at his watch. "Five minutes."

"Perfect. At exactly noon, the groundhog will either dance or play dead. If he dances, it means summer will be lovely. If he plays dead, it means summer will unbearably hot. Please tell us when it is exactly noon, Professor Lupin," said Weasley.

The students and professors (some of them looking rather skeptical, but I showed them) waited in silence until Lupin said very ceremoniously, "It is now twelve o'clock."

I thought it best to be an agreeable groundhog, which meant not playing dead, so I stood up on my hind legs and shook my furry little bum. All the students applauded. I must admit that dancing business isn't all bad.

So that was The Day Snape Died, take two. The question in everyone's mind (everyone being Dumbledore, Lupin, Weasley, and me, of course) was how many more days would it take to wear Snape down? And on how many of those days would the turn of events lead me to dancing on tabletops?

-END PART TWO-