Win Some, Lose More

CHAPTER ONE - Oh Where Has My Snapey Gone, the Angels Replied

It was midsummer in England, which meant it was raining. Not just raining at that, chucking it down, and heading towards bucketing. Fortunately it was likely to improve into more seasonable weather soon: fog.

This meant that the Great Hall of Hogwarts, with it's bewitched ceiling, was something like a swimming pool at dinner, and was perhaps the only dining hall on the planet where the diners had umbrellas.

It was the kind of weather that sagas are written in. It was the weather where Jekyll became Hyde, where Frankenstein's monster came to life, and where in a small country mansion, far from Hogwarts, evil things were happening. But there was no lone lights shining ghostly in windows, nor any bloodcurdling screams. Just black silence.

So where did it all begin

In the beginning was nothing, which soon became a great deal of everything. Some fifteen trillion years later the Earth was formed, and after a short four and a half billion years Hogwarts was built, and a thousand years later Harry Potter attended a very special potions lesson.

"Where's Snape?" said Ron. "He's never late. Ever."

"Don't jinx it," said Harry.

It was ten minutes into the lesson and there was no sign of Severus Snape anywhere. It was as though he'd vanished into thin air. Harry certainly hoped so. But there was something eerie about it. Ron wasn't too happy because he had nothing to do and was bored. Hermione wasn't too happy about it because she hated missing lessons, despite the fact the exams ended the previous Friday. Draco Malfoy wasn't too happy about it because he was a gimp.

They waited and waited, until five minutes to the end of the lesson someone walked in but it wasn't Snape. It was Professor McGonagall. She eyed them sternly and then said:

"Professor Snape will not be attending your lesson today," this met with mutterings of 'duh' and 'y'think?' from the assembled students, "nor, in fact, for the remainder of the year. He has been called away on official business. A substitute has been arranged for the remainder of your lessons."

This in turn met with mutterings of '!' and '?' from the assembled students as they tried to determine whether or not this was a bad thing. At least the Gryffindors did. The Slytherin's had already made up their mind, and looked riotous.

"How could you do this to us?" cried one.

"What kind of official business?" "What are we going to do?" "Think about the children!"

Malfoy waited until they'd fallen silent, which took a while, and then said: "What," he put special emphasis on that word, "are we going to do for a house master?"

"That is yet to be organised," said McGonagall. "We were on very short notice. However we will give the matter the appropriate thought and Slytherin will be given the house master it rightly deserves." She flashed a smile that made the Slytherins shiver.

They filled out on their way to Herbology. Harry looked at Hermione, silently saying 'that was a bit of a shock, wasn't it', and then he looked at Ron, who was grinning maniacally.

"Good day, is it?" Harry said.

"So far yes," said Ron. "Couldn't have hoped for better. Well, I lie. I could have hoped for a million galleons and a paid trip to Barbados with the Chudley Cannons, but all in all I think this is more likely."

"So it would seem," said Hermione.

* * * * *

After the day was over they retreated to the common room, which was rather much a lie in the naming, because no room that included the Weasley twins was common. No-one was ready to ask what they were doing at the moment, but it seemed to include some poor first year's toad, a length of copper wire, the combined effort of their wands applied at the appropriate terminal (by coin toss, Fred's down the throat, George's elsewhere) and a small cauldron full of a smelly blue liquid.

Watching the electrolysis silently from the corner of the room was a boy called Julius Smith, but he was also known as John Doe or that-bloke-over-there-what's-his-name.

He was in Ginny Weasley's year, but that was all anyone knew about him it wasn't that no-one wanted to get to know him, it was just that he didn't stand out in a crowd and by the time anyone noticed he was there, he wasn't. It'd be wrong to say he didn't have any friends, although it would probably be wrong to say he did. Everyone knew of him, of course, but no-one really knew him.

He was of average height, and very skinny, with black hair and pale, almost white skin. His eyes were grey and under his Hogwarts robes he wore average clothes that were either black, grey or white. If it weren't for the Hogwarts seal on his robes one would think one was looking at a black and white photo.

He never spoke out, and never attracted people. He wasn't a bad student but wasn't a genius either. He wasn't ugly but wasn't handsome. The only thing you could say about him without lying was that he was 'average', and that's what made him so unusual. Being average at Hogwarts was like not being hungry in a piranha school. Rumour had it that when they put the Sorting Hat on his head it remained silent for five minutes in silent contemplation before it said 'can someone put me on someone, please'.

He will play an important part in the following happenings. Watch his space, if you can stand the boredom.

"I wonder who our new potions teacher will be," said Harry, who was on the other side of the room.

"Well I really don't think anyone other than Snape knows anything about potions," said Hermione with what Ron suspected may be loyalty. He made a mental note to annoy her like hell. "Besides, I'd be more worried about who will be taking over Slytherin. I certainly hope it's someone really nasty."

"Hermione," said Ron, "Slytherins like nasty. They eat, sleep and do assorted other things with nasty. Nasty doesn't scare them. What they really need is someone nice. Someone who has a heart."

"How long do you think a good man would last in Slytherin House?" said Harry.

Ron considered it. "How long would Snape last if we were armed with soul removing curses?"

"Quite a while. You need a soul first."

* * * * *

" and therefore the bathrooms on the fifth floor of the north tower are out of order," she said while they waited for her to say about Snape, who didn't make you eyes water quite as much, "because poor Jamie Invlis already knows how much damage a porcupine can do, and after spreading to the girls room I felt it best to spare the trouble, especially since they don't have the luxury of standing. Inquiries are proceeding, but we're already certain it isn't the Weasley twins' fault, since they were busy in affairs involving a toad that will lose Gryffindor ten points-"

The twins slumped out of sight from their vengeful peers.

"-I'm also sure you all know of Snape's leaving, but I assure you he will be back, alive as well, next year. We're fairly certain about that. In the mean time we have tried to find a potions teacher for you, as well as a substitute Slytherin house master, and this has lead us to choose Richard Edwards."

Professor Richard Edwards was a muggle-born wizard who taught the seventh years advanced potion making. People preferred to give him the nickname Dick Ed, but never within earshot.

This caused instant uproar among the rival Gryffindors and Slytherins, after a quick check to see if Dick was around, which he wasn't, Harry yelled:

"I object! He's a idiot!"

He left it at that, because Malfoy had just said the same thing at the same time.

"Jinx," they said in unison. "That's weird. Are you doing this on purpose. Stop copying me. Rutabaga. How much wood would a woodchuck chuck if a woodchuck could chuck wood? I'm not a pheasant plucker, I'm a pheasant plucker's son. I'm only plucking pheasants 'til-"

"Boys!" said Professor McGonagall, simply because Malfoy was starting to slip up on the words.

"What?"

"Potter first."

"What?" said Harry.

"What?" said Draco.

"'What Professor'," said Professor McGonagall.

"What Professor?"

"Malfoy first."

"Anyway," she continued, before the boys could continue, "what appears to be the problem. Malfoy first," she added.

"Professor Edwards doesn't know the first thing about house management!" he said.

"Potter?"

"Ditto," said Harry.

"Am I correct in saying, Mr. Malfoy, that you're afraid Edwards' lack of experience will cause Slytherin's points to plummet?"

"Er, maybe?" said Malfoy.

"And am I also correct in saying, Mr. Potter, that you're afraid Edwards' lack of experience will cause Slytherin's points to shoot through the roof?"

"ER, possibly?" said Harry.

"Fair enough," said Professor McGonagall, who then sat down again without a word.

The Slytherins and Gryffindors looked sideways at each other, unsure whether to revel in their rivals' discomfort or hide in shame.

* * * * *

The exact reason why there was so much disgust against Dick's new position became apparent during the days final lesson, which was, of course, potions. He had a sheet of paper telling him where everyone sat that Snape had drawn out in Harry's first year so he could tell who was making trouble without looking up. This did, however, cause him to already know the names of everyone in class, or rather, what his interpretation of Snape's spidery handwriting claimed their names to be.

After an embarrassed five minutes of calling the register the class consisted of Henry Peter, Rowen Westly, Deacon Mayfly, and of course, she who'd spend many a day plotting vengeance, Hormone Danger.

"If you dare " she warned them. "If you so much as think it "

It then transpired that they knew more about potions than he did, or rather, more about the bits that they should be taught. As far as he was concerned if it didn't need the feather of the roc gathered from the highest peaks of Olympus he really wasn't interested. The lesson ended with Malfoy telling him where to stick his feather, but this didn't cause a loss in points because Dick was clueless to how the system worked.

By Friday afternoon everyone had had Dick for potions, and they were all either angry or bewildered. After dinner the Gryffindor common room was packed with angry students, all of them wanting several things to happen about the situation, some of which included barbed wire.

"Do you know what he called me?" said Seamus Finnigan."Have you got any idea?"

"I can guess," said Neville Longbottom. "He didn't even hint that my forgetfulness potion wasn't cold enough for mandrake spit!"

"Really, what did you forget?" said Ron. "Nothing! I remembered everything! All the way back to being in my mothers womb! It's driving me insane!"

"Listen up, everyone!" said Harry, who'd chosen to take charge of the situation by standing on a chair and waving his wand at anyone who wouldn't shut up. "I know Dick Ed's a, well "

"Dickhead?" said Dean Thomas.

"Yeah. But we only have to put up with him for another couple of weeks before the end of the year. We can last that long, can't we?"

"Oh yeah?" said Hermione.

"Y - what do you mean 'oh yeah?'? I didn't think you'd be vengeful, Hermione."

"Well look at it from the position of Semen and I-"

"Hey-" began Seamus.

"We're not going to take this! We're going to stand up to the teachers and tell them to get someone better. Someone sane!"

The Gryffindors cheered.

"But first I've got to do my Defence against the Dark Arts homework."

The Gryffindors silenced.

"Well I'm going to kill him!" said Ron. "Today's the day we show him just what happens when you go in the fifth floor toilets."

The Gryffindors cheered.

"You can't do that," said Harry.

The Gryffindors silenced.

"Why not?"

"Because it's immoral. Besides if we can handle Snape we can handle Dick."

The Gryffindors gave this consideration, and then Seamus said: "Well I'm going to do something about it. He hasn't removed any points from Slytherin at all!"

"Neither did Snape," Ron pointed out.

"But they never used the f-word on Snape. Dick hasn't got a clue. He's-"

Seamus stopped, because there was a loud knocking at the, well, at the wall actually.

Ginny poked her head out the portrait hole.

"Watcha," said Malfoy.

Ginny screamed and withdrew her head.

"There's an angry Slytherin mob out there," she said.

"Did they say why they're angry?" asked Ron.

Fred clipped his ear. As he moved George clipped his other ear.

"They're Slytherins!" said Fred.

"They don't need an excuse to be angry!" said George.

"Ask them what they want," said Harry.

Ginny poked her head out.

"What do you want?" she said.

"We want to talk to Potter," said Malfoy.

Ginny retreated.

"They want to talk to Harry," she said.

"Why?" said Harry.

Ginny poked her head out.

"Why?"she said.

"Because I say so," said Malfoy getting impatient. "And if you don't hurry up that pretty red head of yours is going to turn a nasty shade of blue."

"How?" said Ginny.

"Because Crabbe and Goyle will have their hands around your throat something like this," he jerked forward, giving Ginny just enough time to disappear. Never kill the messenger, Draco's dad had taught him. It makes it so hard to send a message back.

"Because he says so," said Ginny, "and if I don't hurry up my pretty red head is going to turn a nasty shade of blue because Crabbe and Goyle will have their hands around my throat something like this," she demonstrated on a convenient first year.

Harry went out to meet Malfoy, quickly followed by Hermione who'd decided to make sure that no-one killed anyone else. Malfoy would have regarded her with disgust, were he not more intrigued at the entire Weasley tribe trying to get through all at once.

"Well?" said Ron once he was through.

"I was about to ask the same question," said Draco. "I understand you've given the problem of Dick Ed consideration."

"How-" began Harry.

"What else are you going to talk about. The Gryffindors and the Slytherins are the only ones really against Dick. Don't insult my intelligence, Potter."

"We don't," said George.

"You face is usually enough," said Fred.

Malfoy sneered at them. "The point is," he continued, "that we've been discussing the same thing, and we have a list of things we could do about it."

He unfolded a large parchment.

"We've already got three barbed wire methods, force feeding broken glass, flaying over burning coals and putting him in the fifth floor bathroom," said Hermione.

Malfoy folded the parchment.

"I don't suppose you've considered turning him into a toad?" he said hopefully.

"Good grief Malfoy," said Ron. "We're in the twenty-first century. We're not ruthless barbarians."

"We could just ask Professor McGonagall to remove him from the position," suggested Hermione.

"Good grief Granger," said Malfoy. "We're only in the twenty-first century. This isn't a utopian society here. On the other hand we, the Slytherins, feel we need Snape back here ASAP."

"Can't you all just wait a few weeks?" said Hermione.

"No!" said everyone else.

"You're just trying to keep Dick because he doesn't give you any points," said a thin but attractive Slytherin girl.

"Neither did Snape,"

Malfoy pointed out. Ron and Seamus avoided looking directly at each other. "What we need is Snape to come back early and have Dick kicked out," he added. "On his ear."

"His ear?" said Ron.

"It hurts more than being thrown out on your bum, I can assure you."

"But how do we find out where he's gone?" said Seamus, who'd picked up the plot. The twins clipped his ears.

"The same way we find out where your common room is," said Malfoy. "We found out at the school office. You can find all sorts of maps and records there. One day I'll have to have a really, really good look. But for now, if we find his location and send a letter we can persuade him to come back."

"And we come into this, how?" said Harry.

"If he sees that only the Slytherins want him back he'll be flattered of course-" The Gryffindors winced at the thought of a flattered Snape. Ginny nearly burst into tears and Neville, who could remember a thousand flattered faces and could apply any number of them to Snape, in his present condition, had to run off to be sick.

"-but he won't come back. If he sees that even Harry Potter, who he hates almost as much as I do, he'll realise his calling and return to us instead of that, er..."

"Dickhead?" suggested Dean.

"Yeah. As it happens I have a letter pre-written."

He handed it over. Harry read it.

Malfoy had clearly spent a great deal of effort into making it completely devoid of emotion. If this didn't convince Snape to return, nothing would. But it turned out that this was all irrelevant, because:

"POTTER, WEASLEY, GRANGER, MALFOY!" yelled Professor McGonagall.

No-one knew where she came from, and no-one really cared right now. The Weasley tribe, however, was busy trying to work out what one was being called.

"Follow me."

The Weasleys, after a brief session of muttering, decided they'd all go, since they were all far too kind to let their kin enter the jaws of death alone.

They trekked to McGonagall's office. She sat down and waited for the seven of them to line up as if waiting for execution. In other words, hide behind each other.

"I assure you that you are not being punished," said the Professor. Almost instantly they settled, embarrassed that they'd even worried.

"I have a letter from Professor Snape," she continued. "He requests the presence of, and I quote 'Potter and his mob, especially that bloody Weasley. And get Draco as well.'"

Panic returned. The twins grabbed each other in terror. Ginny grabbed Harry's waist in a tight immobile grasp. Ron, who was catching on to the idea, grabbed Hermione, and didn't let go simply because she was threatening to tear his head off when she was free. Malfoy looked around for someone to grab, and suddenly felt insanely jealous of Ron.

"Why?" he said instead.

"Because he feels he has a use for you," said Professor McGonagall. "I'm amazed at your reluctance. After all, it gets you out of lessons with Professor Edwards, who I believe you have a minor problem with."

They hadn't considered this. Ron loosened his warm grip on Hermione's waist, which was a mistake, because she tightened her warm grip on his throat.

"He is currently in a country manor in Nottinghamshire, visiting a good friend of his. This friend claimed it was of the up most importance that Snape arrived, considering that he's the closest thing we have to a, er, Dark Arts expert."

"What?" said Harry, leaping forward, or at least trying. Ginny's grip was relentless. "I mean, if this is Dark Arts stuff should you really send students?"

"I agree with Harry," said Hermione, who was trying to elbow Ron in the ribs so he'd let go. Ron clearly had too much common sense. "You can't send students into dangerous situations just because of a letter!"

Professor McGonagall leaned forward.

"If you succeed quickly, Snape's back and Edwards's out."

They considered this, and then everyone let go of everyone.

"We'll go!" everyone said.

* * * * *

"'We'll go'" muttered Ron, "was that stupid or was that stupid?"

They weren't taking a train because there were none to their destination. They weren't using Floo powder because they didn't want Harry to end up in another country. They weren't flying because it would take too long. They were going by an age old magical ritual that involved drinking a mixture of porcupine urine (which they had plenty of) and human blood (which was happily donated by Hermione when Ron had let go).

And then of course there was the special ingredient, which Harry didn't want to comment on but looked as though it'd been living under a rock in the middle of the jungle.

They were each handed a small glass containing the stuff, but not before they were handed a clipboard holding a contact entitled 'in the event of you death '.

All seven of them looked at the purple-green liquid as it began to eat through their glasses. Perhaps the best thing to do would simply down it and hope to god in heaven that it wouldn't kill them.

Harry pinched his nose and threw it back.

"Well, I've tasted worse," he said.

And then he fell over.

* * * * *

And then he woke up. Where he woke up was something to worry about later, just as soon as he got Ron off of him before everyone else woke up. He thought of an ingenious plan to do so.

It was a good thing no-one else was awake, otherwise their eyes would be watering as much as Ron's. Harry slid out of the way before Ron realised who he woke up on.

"What did you do that for?" he squeaked.

"What did I do what for?" said Harry innocently, and then Ron passed out.

END OF ACT ONE, ACT ONE OVER THERE...