Harry Potter and the Brotherhood of the Besotted

Chapter 10: Happy Valentine's Day, Ron

Despite the pledge of the Brotherhood of the Besotted, Ron did manage to have one more conversation with Harry concerning the weekend. Ron escaped from his dress robes after the other boys left for dinner. He found Harry, still in the common room, and quietly took him aside to explain Hermione's situation. Harry's ultimate reaction (following an initial period of shock and disbelief) had been not unlike Ron's. He agreed that Professor Snape was to blame for it all and he wished his Potions Master harm.

None of the fifth year students of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry were in any mood for Valentine's Day, when Monday the 14^th of February dawned. The Gryffindors said the new week's password, "Cupid's Darts," to the Fat Lady through gritted teeth.

Harry was very unamused when Ginny Weasley spotted him at breakfast. Giggling playfully, she called out loudly, "You know Harry, I had half a mind to write you another poem this year, seeing as you're so fond of that sort of thing now." The fourth years thought this observation was hilarious. Colin Creevey laughed so hard that he snorted pumpkin juice from his nose.

Seamus was mortified when Lavender Brown gave him a Valentine's Day present, since he no longer had anything to give her in return. Lavender's gift was brilliant, too. It was a history of Quidditch in Ireland with biographies of all the players who had won the last Quidditch World Cup. However, Seamus was much less ashamed when he opened the fly leaf of the book and read the inscription which Lavender had forgotten to erase: "To my darling Sevvie. How about it, big boy?"

The only person who seemed to be unreservedly enjoying Valentine's Day was Dobby the house-elf. Dobby had received gifts from two secret admirers. Even better, both had sent him his favourite thing - a pair of mismatched socks. Diplomatically, Dobby wore the brown paisley and navy blue pair (which were from Winky) on his feet and the puce and mauve pair (which were from Bunty) on his ears. Even though elves are not a species given to swaggering, Dobby certainly managed to swagger, and even sometimes to strut, as he made an unexpected appearance on the Gryffindor table, under the pretext of clearing away the breakfast things.

Ominously, Hermione Granger did not come down to breakfast. She did not come to Herbology, which was the first lesson, nor Transfiguration, which was the next. For most of the male members of the Transfiguration class, this was the longest hour of their lives. All the boys, except for Ron and Malfoy, tried to sit staring purposefully at their shoes through the entire class. When Vincent Crabbe was called to the front of the classroom to turn a salamander into a hairbrush, he blushed scarlet and shook so hard that the result was a bristly wooden lizard that scurried under Parvati Patil's desk. Professor McGonagall didn't mind the embarrassment she was causing in the least, and even winked at Neville when she handed an essay back to him.

As lesson after lesson passed without Hermione appearing, Ron began to feel a knot in his stomach grow. He'd been asking around, but nobody had seen her in the hospital wing the day before, so she couldn't still be petrified. Where was she? What if they had expelled her already? What if she had gone without having had a chance to say goodbye? Potions was the last class of the day and by that time Ron was so overwrought that he was ready to injure Professor Snape the instant he saw him. Talking to Harry outside the Potions dungeon, Ron called Snape a name that Mrs Weasley would never have allowed her son to use. "He's going to pay for this, right now I tell you," Ron threatened.

"No Ron," a small voice said behind him, "that's only going to make things worse." It was Hermione. Her eyes were red from crying, but otherwise she looked no worse for her weekend's misfortunes.

"Where've you been?" Harry and Ron said together.

"Madam Pomfrey wasn't able to thaw me out until this morning. I guess she must have stored me somewhere yesterday, my robes smelt awfully of floor polish when I came around," she said sadly. "Then I went up to my room."

Ron didn't know quite how to broach the subject, but he had to know. "Has, er, McGonagall said anything to you yet, about, you know, anything?" he stammered.

Hermione understood him immediately. "No, not yet, but I know it's just a matter of time." Her voice cracked and tears rolled down her cheeks. "Oh, how could I? I've packed my bags. I expect they've just been waiting until my parents can come up and get me. It's such a long way for Muggles to drive, you know. They'll have all sorts of difficulty finding the castle, even once they've arrived. And they'll have to close the surgery, on Valentine's Day, with all those toffees out there pulling out people's fillings."

"Perhaps you'd better go back to Gryffindor Tower," Harry suggested. "We'll come with you."

"No, I can't," Hermione lamented. "I've been hiding up there since before lunch, but Professor McGonagall sent a prefect to tell me that I wasn't making things any easier on myself by missing classes. So I think she wants me to go through the humiliation of facing -" Hermione couldn't finish her sentence. The dungeon door swung open and the woeful trio silently went inside.

The atmosphere in Snape's Potions class was even worse than it had been in Transfiguration. This time it was the girls' turn to avert their eyes, none more so than Hermione, who did not seem willing to lift up her head. However, while Professor McGonagall had borne everybody's discomfort with playful good humour, Professor Snape seemed to be furious that anybody would have the bad taste to remember the weekend at all. Snape's victimisation of Neville Longbottom was particularly brutal that day. He made Neville drink a semi-lethal poison that could only be counteracted by the victim whistling loudly. Neville was too scared to whistle and subsequently passed out.

Ron's anger seethed during the class, but Hermione had asked him to be restrained, so for her sake he did nothing. However, to his shock, with no more than a minute to the end of the lesson, Hermione's hand shot up in the air.

"Miss Granger?" said Professor Snape. His normally mellifluous speech was abrupt, as though he was shocked also.

"Sir, I was wondering about the Potions Practical Assessment Task," she began. The whole class gasped in unison.

"Miss Granger," Snape interrupted, his voice still wavering a little, "this class is on poisons. I have no intention of ever discussing the potion set by the Magical Educational Standards Board during my classes."

"But sir, I was just wondering. I mean it was all so unfair. People just fall in love differently, don't they? Some people don't show their feelings - some people run amok. How can the examiners know how people would be affected?" she blurted out.

"Miss Granger," Severus Snape drawled, hoping that his voice was conveying annoyance rather than the extreme agitation he was feeling, "as you are so keen to discuss these matters, perhaps you will stay after this class. Class dismissed."

Harry and Ron did not leave the room and looked from Snape to Hermione. There was no way the friends were abandoning her to that vampire. However, Hermione said in a quietly resigned voice, "Harry, you'd better get ready for your Quidditch match. I'll meet you outside, Ron, we can walk down to the pitch together." Reluctantly, Ron took up his post on the other side of the dungeon door.

* * * * * * *

"Sit down, Miss Granger," Snape said, indicating a chair on the other side of his desk.

Why have I done this? Hermione thought. I could have quietly slipped away. But then, she hadn't merely been speaking about her own reaction to the love potion during her outburst in class. In the lesson, she'd had the chance to reflect on how differently her friends had behaved. One strange fact had revealed itself to her. Ron Weasley did not seem to have been in love at all. The injustice of it outraged her, because she felt certain that it was just Ron's way. He didn't go on about love or girls in the way that fools like Seamus Finnigan or even Victor Krum did. But Hermione was certain that, in his own unassuming way, Ron Weasley would as be as capable of love as the next boy.

"I have been making some enquiries, Miss Granger," Professor Snape began as he lifted some pages from his desk, "with the Improper Use of Magic Office at the Ministry."

Hermione felt terrified, but merely nodded.

"Were you aware that it is an offence under the Flying Carpets and Other Enchanted Fabrics Act, 1836, for an unlicensed witch or wizard to manufacture an Invisibility Cloak?" Snape asked quietly.

Hermione dumbly shook her head.

"Yes, well, the Ministry was quite unable to tell me what the penalty for making a cloak without a licence was," Snape continued. "The dullard I spoke with in the licensing section told me it would be impossible. Apparently it takes an apprenticeship of some eight years to master the incantation to create invisibility. I dare say you're aware that the incantation itself requires unbroken concentration for five hours and thirteen minutes?"

This time, Hermione silently nodded assent.

"I also asked the Ministry about witches under the age of seventeen purchasing Bellamy's Brown Befuddling Brew. Apparently that's quite illegal as well."

"But I didn't," Hermione began, and then stopped short. She didn't want Snape to know that she had actually made the stuff. She suspected, quite rightly, the illegality of brewing the potion would be even worse than buying it.

"And of course, misuse of an Imperius Curse -" Snape started. A long silence followed while the Potions Master stared at a scorch mark, which spilt dragon's blood had burned into his desk. He continued, "As we both know, misuse of an Imperius Curse is punishable by a prison term in Azkaban." There was something strange about his tone of voice. Hermione couldn't understand it. Although his attitude was far from friendly, which was hardly a surprise, he did not sound angry. Hermione could only surmise that Professor Snape had reached some new level of fury that no student had ever invoked in the past, and that was why her teacher's voice sounded so unfamiliar. She dared not provoke him further.

"Professor," she began, "my bags are packed." Fighting back tears, she drew her wand from the pocket of her robes and placed it on the desk in a gesture of heartbroken surrender. She continued, haltingly, "If you could just let me say goodbye to my friends -" Then she began to cry.

"Miss Granger," Snape said in his new, strange, non-angry voice, "that was not what I meant. Not at all. I was just going to say that I thought it was a bit unnecessary to confund and curse someone at the same time."

"But I thought you would have had so much experience fighting off Imperius Curses," Hermione began, still sobbing and not really knowing what she was saying. "What with having been a Death Ea -" her voice trailed off. Snape's past was a taboo subject at Hogwarts.

"I was merely about to explain that I have never seen such a concentrated and diabolical misuse of magic as your own, astonishing efforts, even -" Snape hesitated, he arched his eyebrows and the corners of his lips curled into a sinister smile, "even under any of my other employers." The Potions Master handed Hermione's wand back to her with a disdainful look. "Miss Granger, it is not my intention, nor the intention of anyone else at the school, to recommend that you be expelled. You are far too dangerous and ill-disciplined a witch to allow you to roam about the countryside. I think we better have you at Hogwarts where we can keep a watchful eye on you and ensure that your excesses are suitably curbed."

Hermione was uncertain whether she was being praised or insulted. But one thing was clear. She was being allowed to stay at Hogwarts. Shedding more tears, which were now tears of joy, she gushed, "Thank you, thank you, Professor."

"Yes, well, don't be too effusive," Snape huffed. "In fact, I don't think I can accept thanks from you at all. We both have very little to be proud of. I underestimated you and, in doing that, I failed you miserably as a teacher."

Hermione didn't know what to say to this. Professor Snape was admitting he had been in the wrong. Professor Snape had never admitted that he had been in the wrong before. Not even after she and Harry had told him that Sirius Black was innocent. Not even when Dumbledore had forced him to shake Sirius' hand. If she hadn't just heard it with her own ears, Hermione would not have believed that it was in Severus Snape's nature to ever make such an admission.

"Actually, Miss Granger, there is something I feel it is my duty to do," Snape continued with stiff formality. "Strictly speaking, I have no authority to do this. It is quite against the rules."

Snape paused and reflected grimly that if the Board of Governors knew about half of the rules broken over the weekend, he would be off on his broom already. "Therefore," the professor fixed his hawk-like eyes on Hermione, "what I am about to say is being said in strictest confidence. If I find my confidence is betrayed I will make things as awful for you as it is in my power to so do." Snape picked up a form from his desk that bore the Magical Educational Standards Board crest. "In class, you mentioned that different people had different ways of showing love?"

"Yes, Professor," answered Hermione, "but I promise, I'll never, ever fall in love again. From now on I will stick to my studies."

Snape looked at her oddly. "Young lady, for a witch of your vitality I believe that would be a great shame. Ambition and academic excellence are noble things. But if you live for these things alone, ultimately you will never know happiness. It's a lonely life when you have nothing to console you but pride in your achievements."

Self consciously, he looked back to the form in his hands. "The thing I think you need to know is that every student in my class has passed the Potions Practical Assessment Task."

Hermione was startled. "Why, that means Ron -" she began.

"Mr Weasley concocted the potion with a very high degree of accuracy. I must say, his marks surprised me. No doubt you are wondering why the potion didn't affect him?"

"Well, yes," Hermione admitted.

"Did you have a chance to research the potion you made at all? Or were you too preoccupied with your other, shall we say, endeavours?" Snape appeared to be joking with her now. It made Hermione feel a little uneasy.

"I started to do some reading," she explained, "but there were so many unfamiliar ingredients. I couldn't work out how different it would be to the standard potions in all the books."

"So you noted that narwhal's horn, St Vitus Bean pod, psyllium and Vegemite were added? Did you wonder why?" Snape asked, as though he was grilling her on some unfinished homework assignment.

"Yes," Hermione replied defensively, "but I couldn't find a reason."

"The ingredients were added at the express request of the Wizard's Family Values League. There was a great deal of political opposition, over at the Ministry, to allowing callow youths to brew love potions en masse," Snape explained, thinking to himself that a bit more political opposition wouldn't have gone astray. His top lip curled in disgust and he continued his speech. "The extra ingredients modify the potion in a somewhat specific way. In essence, they prevent the potion from causing infidelity. An asinine precaution really, one would have thought infidelity was the chief thing that those wretched brews are all designed to promote."

Hermione was confused. What, if anything, did this have to do with Ron? She tried to sneak a glance at some of the comments written on the form in Professor Snape's hands. All she was able to make out was a line at the top, which appeared to say "Draco Malfoy - Physical Immaturity". However, as the writing was partly obscured by the professor's fingers, she might have been mistaken.

Professor Snape continued. "The particular potion which your class consumed would not work on a student if they had already formed a sincere, deep and lasting attachment to a member of the opposite sex. Mr Weasley admitted to such an attachment when I gave him Veritaserum on Saturday night. But don't be too bothered, Miss Granger. Weasley has never struck me as terribly perceptive. I doubt whether he even realises how much he loves you yet."

With these words, Professor Snape rose and walked over to the door. Opening it he snarled, "We're done now, Weasley. As you can see, she's unharmed. Now, be gone. And don't think the fact that you will be watching Quidditch all afternoon absolves you from your homework."

Hermione departed and Severus Snape immediately closed the dungeon door. He shut his eyes and stood silently for several minutes, wallowing in self-loathing. Still, he thought, the deed has been done and a wizard's debt has been repaid.

Since his youth Snape had led a life of dissembling and deceit. He had been forced to play many parts. However, playing the role of Ron Weasley's matchmaker had been the most distasteful thing Severus Snape had been required to do for many years. All because, as Minerva McGonagall had been at such pains to point out in the hospital wing last Saturday night, Ron Weasley had saved him.

The truth was, Snape had been so incapacitated on Saturday night that he could not honestly describe exactly what Ron Weasley had saved him from. However, he had been able to recall some fragmentary memories. He distinctly recalled feeling monstrously afraid. And he recalled, although much less distinctly, feeling tantalisingly depraved. Begrudgingly, the Potions Master had been forced to acknowledge that the peril Ron Weasley had rescued him from must not have been trivial. Therefore, Severus Snape's code of honour required him to make some recompense. Bitterly, Snape wondered why the only people who went about rescuing him were people he either loathed or scorned. Snape had not expected his wizard's debt to have been discharged so quickly and he had certainly never wanted to be face to face with Hermione Granger when Weasley's Veritaserum induced testimony came to light. Still, at least now the whole foul business was at an end.

* * * * * * *

As Hermione hurried down the dank, freezing hallway, Ron looked at her intently, to make sure she hadn't been upset. To his confusion, Hermione was smiling very peculiarly back at him.

"So," Ron began, "you're not expelled then?"

"No, he said they were too afraid of what I might do if they turned me loose onto an unsuspecting world," laughed Hermione.

"Well, so they ought to be," agreed Ron. "You're bloody mad." Ron tried to sound like his normal, teasing self, but in truth he couldn't have been happier if the Chudley Cannons had won the Quidditch League Cup nine times in a row.

Eventually they walked out into the sunshine together, the snow shining brilliantly on the ground. Ron decided to change the subject. "Hermione," he said, "you know my dress robes?"

"Yes," said Hermione. "I should have asked you first. Sorry. It's just I couldn't find Harry's cloak."

"No, it's OK," said Ron. "Fred and George keep saying they're going to buy me new dress robes for my birthday, anyway. They're making heaps of money from their fake wands. I was just wondering, are the robes going to stay, you know, enchanted? Or is it a temporary thing?"

"They should stay that way. It was a fairly complex spell, but I'm certain I performed the whole incantation," Hermione said knowledgably.

"Invisibility Cloaks are really expensive. I feel weird about just keeping it," said Ron.

"Oh Ron." Hermione began, giving him that strange look again, "I've put you through so much recently. Maybe I owe you something, a present, to make up for all the bother I've caused. Happy Valentine's Day, Ron."

Ron grinned broadly, but the tips of his ears also reddened a little. "Brilliant!" he said, as the two friends walked down to the Quidditch pitch together.

FINIS