Survivors

CHAPTER 19

The Game

Hermione threw herself into her work, spending long hours preparing detailed scale models of the major battles in the Goblin Wars, with each little figure enchanted to act out his part. She even filled them with real goblin blood, so that the students could gain a full appreciation of the horrible consequences of spilling the green fluid: it would ooze out, seek the nearest life form, and attempt to devour it like a giant amoeba.

It was a kind of therapy for her, the monotony of applying the same spells over and over on each bit of clay soothing her into a kind of trance. That and creating little black Snape figurines which she set in a closed box with samples of the goblin blood. That was extremely satisfying.

As for the real Snape, Hermione was feeling quite self-congratulatory that she hadn't slipped a phial of goblin blood into his goblet. She was beyond such adolescent fits of pique, after all. Admittedly, she had the logistics all planned out, but she would never really do it. Not even just to see if she could get away with it. Really.

She hadn't even been spending any time with Remus, so she was a little startled when he knocked on her door one evening and asked her whether she were still planning on going to the football match that weekend.

"Sorry, football?" She frowned, holding a miniature goblin prince between her thumb and forefinger. She had been just about to imbue him with the order to scream like a girl at the first sign of a wand.

"You know," Remus continued, picking up a particularly ugly goblin and squinting at it, "Angelina's boyfriend's team. She gave us all tickets for Christmas." The goblin made a rude hand gesture.

"Oh that," Hermione said. "I don't think so. I have to finish this before Monday. It's the Battle of Frisby on the Wreake," she announced proudly, and tapped the prince on the head with her wand, a slightly mad gleam in her eye. She had made him with an extra large, hooked nose.

"It's very nice," Remus said tactfully. He replaced the goblin figure on the field, where it continued to randomly flip the bird at nobody in particular. "Hermione?"

She finished murmuring instructions to the figure in her hand. "Hm?"

"When's the last time you got out?"

"I was just at dinner an hour ago!" she exclaimed, giving Remus a little frown that said, 'How many doses of Wolfsbane have you taken?'

"No, I mean out out. To London, to Hogsmeade, or just for a turn around the lake?"

"I've been busy," she said with a shrug.

"You've been brooding," he countered.

"What would I have to brood about?" she asked loftily, and placed the prince where he would be sure to get a good dose of goblin blood.

In a seeming non-sequitor, Remus mentioned, "Severus has single-handedly taken a thousand points off of Gryffindor House this week alone."

Hermione's mouth dropped in horror. "A thousand points?"

Remus raised his hands helplessly. "It's been all I can do to keep us from going into negative territory. I've had to resort to giving out points to students for showing up to class with their wands."

"But that's not fair! Why doesn't Minerva--"

"Oh, it's not just Gryffindor. He even docked a Slytherin fifth-year five points for forcing a Hufflepuff boy to drink his own boil-cure potion. Madam Pomfrey said it was the worst case she'd seen since the Weasley twins."

"The man is evil," Hermione sighed in an I-told-you-so way.

"So are you coming with us or not?"

Hermione suddenly got a sneaking suspicion. Immediate segue from football to Severus to football? "Who's 'us'?" she asked with narrowed eyes.

"Me, Hagrid, Angelina of course, Minerva, John, all the staff."

"All the staff?"

"Well, obviously not all the staff. We can't just abandon Hogwarts to the students, now can we." He grinned. "I believe Rolonda is staying behind with Pomona; I don't actually know about Verity or Strychnia."

Hermione leaned over to make sure a tiny tree was properly anchored. "And...Severus?" She tried to keep her voice nonchalant.

Remus chuckled. "Do you honestly think Angelina gave him tickets?"

Answering a question with a question is no answer. "Did she?" she pressed.

"No, I assure you, she didn't. You can ask her yourself. And even so, do you think Severus would be caught dead at a Muggle football game?"

Another rhetorical question. But he was right. She felt it was fairly safe to say that attending the football game would be the best way to put a large number of kilometres between herself and Severus Snape. Unhappily, what she really wanted was to reduce the distance between them to mere nanometres, if that. But large numbers of kilometres were the second-best thing.

Remus crouched down beside Hermione's work area, so that he could look her in the eye. "Hermione," he said gently. "What happened with Severus? The last time we talked, it sounded like there might be something between you."

"There might have been." Actually, there had been, but she wasn't going to kiss and tell. Her expression became dark. "But he made it clear that he didn't want to see me anymore."

"Why not?"

Hermione threw up her hands in exasperation. "I don't know, Remus! I actually thought things were going pretty well, and then he broke it off in no uncertain terms."

"What exactly did he say?"

"He said there was no point in us seeing each other. Look, I appreciate your concern, but it's kind of embarrassing. I mean, I pretty much threw myself at him, and I'm way out of his league. It's a wonder he even played along as much as he did."

Remus put a hand on her arm and squeezed it firmly. "Hermione, that's nonsense, and you know it. What do you mean by 'out of his league'?"

"He's older than me, has more experience in life and in teaching; he's more powerful, smarter...No wonder he thinks of me as an immature ninny."

"Do you know," Remus said with a smirk, "I do believe you are the first person I've ever heard speaking of Severus in such flattering terms."

"I know, and that's the irony of it all: I set out to convince everyone else that he wasn't as bad as they all think, and I only ended up convincing myself that maybe he is. Oh, not that he's a Death Eater, or that he murdered Albus," she hurried to assure him, seeing that he was about to protest, "but that he's a disagreeable, antisocial bastard."

Remus inclined his head. "I will agree with you there. However, I have to disagree with one thing: I am quite certain that he doesn't think of you as an immature ninny. But, I will respect your wish to let it go."

...xOxOxOx...

"Come on, Ginny, be a sport," Hermione cajoled. She was on her knees in front of her fireplace, her head thrust into the dancing green flames.

"You actually want me to spend my one free night this week freezing my arse off at a Muggle football game?" Ginny was lounging on her sofa, wearing jeans and a midriff-baring jumper.

"I will personally bring along the Bun Warmers. Come on, it's all the staff going, and I'll be bored."

"All the staff?" Ginny raised her eyebrows warily. "Do you think I want to spend the evening with You-Know-Who again? Don't you remember what happened the last time, at the reunion?"

"Ginny, Severus is not Voldemort," Hermione reprimanded her. Even if he had hurt her personally, he still wasn't Evil Personified.

"I'll stop calling him that when you stop calling him by his first name," Ginny pouted.

"Fine." Anything to get her to agree quickly. Her back was starting to hurt from leaning forward so long. "Professor Snape won't be there. Some of the staff members are staying behind to keep an eye on things here."

"What time then," Ginny sighed with a put-upon air.

"Actually," Hermione said tentatively, "I was thinking we could meet up in Diagon Alley a couple of hours before, do an errand and get a bite to eat."

"What sort of errand?" Ginny asked suspiciously.

...xOxOxOx...

"I hate it."

"I think it looks cute," Ginny said encouragingly.

"It's very flattering," added the beautician.

"I hate it." Hermione scowled at her reflection.

"It's just what you asked for," the stylist pointed out, clearly starting to get a little defensive at her customer's reaction.

"It's fine," Ginny assured the other witch. "Give us a minute, kay?"

The beautician shrugged indifferently and stepped over to the next station, where an elderly witch with blue hair was waiting.

"It's just so different; you'll get used to it," Ginny comforted Hermione.

Hermione tentatively reached up to feel the mop of soft curls that had replaced her long, frizzy mane. "It feels like I'm bald." She actually felt like crying. Stupid. The long, untamed hair had given her more than enough grief, yet it had been her most salient identifying characteristic; she almost felt like she didn't know who that was staring back at her out of the mirror.

Ginny tucked one of the locks behind Hermione's ear. "Look, now you can see your neck and the shape of your face. You look much more feminine."

Hermione glared at her. "Thanks."

"Not that you didn't before," Ginny assured her with a quick laugh. Hermione had told her about 'Pouffe'. "But, you know, it makes you look softer."

"Just what I need," Hermione snapped, "for the students to think I'm an old softie."

"Also more serious," Ginny offered. "And no-nonsense. That hair says, 'I'm not taking any crap from you, missie. Or mister.'" She attempted to keep a straight face, but broke up into a fit of snorts and giggles.

Hermione couldn't help joining in.

"You-- You could always wear a head-scarf, like Trelawney," Ginny suggested, wiping her eyes.

"I'd rather shave it off completely," Hermione said firmly.

"And you know, if you really, really hate it, we can have them re-attach it. Look." She bent over and picked up one of the long tresses from the floor and held it up to Hermione's head. "Adhesum."

Hermione gasped and grabbed at the hair. "You didn't just--"

Ginny stepped back and laughed at Hermione, who was yanking hard on the length of hair that was now permanently re-attached.

"You evil little witch!" Hermione scolded her."Snipsit!" The hair fell away again.

"Now come on and stop bitching about it," Ginny said, hauling her friend out of the chair. "You'd think you actually cared how you look."

Hermione paid for the haircut and pulled her woolen hat down firmly over her head before the two of them joined the late afternoon crowd in Diagon Alley.

...xOxOxOx...

"What is it, Lupin?" Snape regarded the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher coldly from behind his desk.

"I'm afraid I'm in a bit of a predicament," Remus admitted, crossing the room.

Snape exhaled through flared nostrils, expressing his irritation. "What is it this time." And it had better have nothing at all to do with a certain Muggleborn professor.

"I've received an owl this afternoon from a group of old acquaintances in London. They've asked me to join them this evening for an urgent meeting."

"And this is of interest to me because...?"

Lupin looked Snape in the eye, deadly serious. "It's the werewolves, Severus. They're calling a meeting."

Snape frowned. "What in the world for?"

"That's just what I'd like to know. I'll have to go, of course." His face looked paler than usual, his features tense.

Snape nodded his agreement. "Yes. And you wish me to take over your duties here?"

"No, actually, I was hoping that you would accompany me."

Snape raised his eyebrows. "Me? Accompany you to a meeting of werewolves? You must be mad." Even though the moon was waning, there were those who, in the tradition of the now incarcerated Fenrir Greyback, would think nothing of attacking humans just for sport.

"Not that they'd know you were there, of course," Remus added quickly. "That would be too dangerous. But I don't trust them." In the Second War against Voldemort, the vast majority of the werewolves had sided with the Dark Lord. Only a handful, Remus included, had fought on the winning side. The defeated survivors, those who hadn't been convicted of War Crimes anyway, had withdrawn and resumed their shadowy existence on the fringes of wizard society, tolerated by the Ministry only as long as no attacks could be laid at their feet.

"It could be a trap," Remus went on, his anxiety evident. "If I could think of any other way..."

"Why don't you ask someone else...Hagrid?" Snape suggested. "They'd hardly dare attack you with him acting as your protector."

Merlin forbid he ask Hermione! But even he will have sense enough not to do that.

"But that's the point: I don't want them to know I've brought a protector. I want them to think I trust them. Maybe there is a new plan afoot. I'll need to know about it, so that I can warn people." Now Remus became more strident. "Severus, you're the only one, and you know it. I need a wizard highly trained in combative spells, someone who excels as concealment, and it doesn't hurt that you'll probably recognize many of them from-- Well, from back then."

Snape pressed his lips together into a thin line. If it is a trap, which is all too likely, he won't stand a chance on his own. What concern is that of mine, however? He knows the risks; he doesn't have to go. Any more than I had to go back to the Death Eaters upon the Dark Lord's second rise to power. Damn!

...xOxOxOx...

"Give over." Ginny reached for another piece of extra-gooey pizza. "What brought on the sudden desire for a makeover?"

"I told you, I'd had enough of people making fun of my hair."

"You've had that same hair ever since I've known you. What is that...ten years?"

"Eleven," Hermione corrected her. "Twelve if you count my first year at Hogwarts, before you started. I saw you at the train station when you saw Ron off." And actually, she'd had the same hairstyle for her entire childhood, starting from when her hair had grown out after she'd magically set fire to it when she was seven.

"So," Ginny summarized, once she'd swallowed her bite, "you've had the same hair for twelve years, all through puberty and adolescence, the time when girls are most sensitive about their looks, and you never changed anything, and now, all of a sudden, you're upset because you found out the students are calling you 'Pouffe'. Which you don't even know for sure refers to your hair."

"You make it sound so implausible."

Ginny gave Hermione a very good Molly look. "There is a man involved. You're either trying to impress someone who said that he doesn't like how you look, or you're trying to get over someone. I know-- Oh my God." Ginny looked at Hermione with wide eyes. "It isn't Ron, is it? When you saw him over Christmas--"

"No, it isn't Ron," Hermione said testily.

"Ah-ha! So there is someone!" Ginny cried triumphantly, pointing at Hermione with her pizza.

"No, there isn't," Hermione insisted.

"I knew it! Who is it then!"

Knowing that Ginny wouldn't give up until Hermione threw her a bone, she sighed. "All right, there was someone; I thought I fancied him a bit, but he wasn't interested. It was too good to be true anyway. Happy?" She didn't need to go into all the sordid details.

Ginny frowned. "No, of course I'm not happy. Well, he must have been a jerk not to like you back."

"Can we just drop it? Look, we'd better get going. We should be at the stadium in about half an hour, and I don't know the area well enough to Apparate. We'll have to take the Tube."

...xOxOxOx...

"Are you sure this is right?" Snape slithered through the crowd, his long form clad in a smooth black leather jacket and black trousers.

"It does look a bit of a strange place to hold a secret meeting," Remus agreed as they approached the stadium. "There will be meeting rooms inside, though, private boxes and the like. Possibly they picked a rather public place because none of them trust the others. This way there's less chance one of them will run amok and kill everyone else."

"Possible," Snape grudgingly agreed. "Do you have any further specifics as to the meeting place once we're inside?"

"Oh yes, right here." Remus patted the pocket of his dark blue windcheater, where he had two oblongs of card. "Tells us exactly where to go."

...xOxOxOx...

"Do you mean to tell me they're going to play the entire game down there on the grass?" Minerva looked disdainfully down her nose at the expanse of green below them.

"Can't exactly fly now, can they?" Hagrid pointed out from where he sat sprawled in a gigantic purple upholstered armchair.

"But how...mundane." Minerva sighed and leaned back in her seat. "I suppose we did promise Angelina. Where is she, anyway?"

"Probably downstairs squeezing goodness," Hermione said cryptically.

Minerva gave her a quizzical look, but Hermione just shook her head, grinning to herself. Angelina (or, more likely, her boyfriend) had procured a private box for them, which had been quite thoughtful; not only for the view and the comfort, but because it meant that they could use magic without fear of drawing attention to themselves. Already, in addition to Hagrid's having claimed half of the territory in the box for himself and replaced the flimsy wooden flip-up seats with the armchair, Professor Flitwick had levitated his chair so that he could see properly over the balustrade, and John Smith, the Muggle Studies professor, had produced three Omnioculars, which they were taking turns in passing amongst themselves, surveying the crowd. Professor Smith, in his element, was taking copious notes of the entire event with a Quick Quotes Quill. "What a marvellous opportunity to watch them up close, without revealing oneself," he enthused. "I will have to ask Angelina whether we can bring my Advanced class sometime."

At that moment, the door behind them opened. "Nachos, anyone?" Angelina came in, carrying a take-away bag full of Muggle snacks, which the professors eagerly divided up amongst themselves.

"Hey, where's Reem?" she asked, settling herself into a seat in the front row and propping her feet up against the ledge, with a packet of crisps and a can of orange squash floating in the air in front of her.

Everyone looked around, noting his absence. "I thought he'd be coming with you, Hermione?" Minerva queried.

"No, I met up with Ginny earlier," Hermione said. "I'm pretty sure he was going to come, though. He said he was going to when I talked to him a couple of days ago." She wondered with a vague feeling of unease whether something had happened to him.

"OK, everyone, look now!" Angelina directed, pointing down at the field. "They're announcing the players! Ooh, there's my Dougal!" She clapped enthusiastically.

...xOxOxOx...

"This must be it," Remus said, comparing the numbers on his ticket with the writing on the door.

"I don't like this," Snape growled. "Something isn't right."

"Yes, it is," Remus insisted.

Snape looked around the brightly lit corridor; one wall was lined with closed doors, the other was blank. There's no place for me to conceal myself here; I'll have to use the Disillusionment Charm and slip in with Moony. Damn! That won't work; they'll smell me.

"I'll have to stay out here," Snape said. "I'll use an Extendable Ear to keep track of their meeting." He took a roll of pink string out of his pocket. The Weasley twins were good for something after all.

"Hold on," Remus said, recommending temperance. "Let's go in first, see who's there."

"What?" Snape recoiled and took a step back. "You can't expect me to walk into a room full of hostile werewolves!"

"Come on, Severus. Could be they're friendly after all." Remus smiled at him encouragingly and reached for the door handle.

Great Merlin, he's delivering me to them!

Snape reached for his wand just as Remus flung the door open. "Sorry we're late," he announced cheerfully to the occupants of the room.

"Remus! There you are!" a woman's voice called out.

That sounds like...Minerva?

Snape peered into the room, his wand drawn.

Good gods in the heavens, it's worse than a room full of werewolves.

"And Severus!" Minerva exclaimed in delight. "I didn't think you'd be joining us."

"I thought you said he wouldn't be here!" Ginny hissed at Hermione.

"I didn't think he would!" Hermione hissed back, scrunching down in her seat and pulling her hat down more firmly over her ears. Maybe he wouldn't see her.

"Lupin..." Snape glared daggers at Remus.

"I managed to convince him," Remus told the room goodnaturedly, holding the door open. Snape had no choice but to stalk in. "Oh look, there's a seat free over here. John, you don't mind, do you?"

The Muggle Studies teacher obligingly stood up and moved over one so that there were two empty seats next to Hermione. Snape attempted to take the further one, but Remus slipped in underneath him, so that Snape was left with the choice of either sitting on Remus's lap or sitting directly next to Hermione.

He'll pay for this. Meddlesome git. He's as bad as Albus. Worse!

Snape sat down on the empty chair with his back straight as a ramrod.

Hermione wanted to sink through the floor. Remus had obviously dragged Snape along, in an attempt to get the two of them together. She knew he was only trying to help, but this was too much.

Hermione leaned forward and said through her teeth, with as much politesse as she could muster, "Hi, Remus. Professor Snape."

"Hi, Hermione, hi, Ginny!" Remus replied with a toothy grin. Snape grunted a monosyllable without moving a muscle.

She glared at Remus and pursed her lips. "What a surprise."

"Game started yet?" Remus inquired innocently, looking down at the field.

"Yeah, look, here comes the kick-off," Angelina reported, oblivious to the tense undercurrents going on behind her.

Hermione turned to Ginny and pleaded, "Will you trade seats with me?"

"No way!" Ginny retorted, horror written all over her face. "I only agreed to come in the first place because he wouldn't be here."

"It's not like I can hear you, you know," Snape murmured icily.

Hermione crossed her arms over her chest and scowled.

"Look, there's Dougal!" Angelina exclaimed, batting her floating crisps packet out of the way so that she could lean forward over the railing. "Go, baby!" she screamed.

The crisps flew toward Ginny, who grabbed them out of mid-air. "Crisp?" Ginny held the packet out to Hermione and shook it invitingly. Hermione fished a few out and crunched them crossly.

It didn't look like there was anything for it. Without appearing to be outright rude, she would have to sit out the game next to Severus. If only he didn't look so damn good in those Muggle clothes! She took some satisfaction in the knowledge that he hated Muggle clothing and was probably burning up with resentment at having to wear them tonight. She could smell the leather of his jacket, and as he had sat down, she had caught a whiff of what she now identified as Severus' personal smell, both tangy and a little sweet, like wine or cider. She crunched her crisps more crossly. Maybe she could finagle a change of seats at halftime.

She is disgusted by my presence. They both are. I can't say that I blame them. I am disgusting.

...xOxOxOx...

"Fascinating," said Professor Smith. "What is the meaning of this ritual?" He was gazing with rapt attention at the stands opposite, where the fans were standing en masse in staggered groups, creating the effect of a rippling motion.

"That's called the Wave," Angelina explained. "When it gets to us, stand up...OK, here it comes... Now!" She stood and raised her hands into the air, then sat back down. Everyone except Snape and Minerva joined in. The floor of the box shook threateningly when Hagrid sat back down, and Minerva gave him a pointed look.

Hermione had decided to ignore Snape and do her best to enjoy the evening. Ginny had managed to replicate the sound of an air horn with her wand, and was using it prodigiously whenever Dougal's team was fouled. Hermione had appropriated a pair of the Omnioculars, using them to record particularly aesthetic displays of musculature and making much ado over viewing the replays with Ginny. She hoped it was getting up Snape's nose.

"And what is the point of this... 'Wave', you said it's called?" John asked, his eyes shining with happiness at having actually participated in a Muggle tradition.

Angelina shrugged. "It's fun. Look, it's going round again."

"Is there a penalty for not joining in?" he asked, following the progress of the motion around the stadium.

"Nope. Just being a spoil sport, I suppose," she answered.

"Come on, Severus, you don't want to be a spoil sport," Remus said.

Snape swiveled his head toward Remus and gave him a deadly look.

"Three-two-one-now!" Angelina led them again. This time, even Minerva joined in.

Hermione and Ginny stood, laughing and standing up tip-toes to stretch their hands up as high as they could reach. Ginny leaned against Hermione a little and knocked her slightly off-balance, so that when she sat back down, she missed her seat by a whisker and slid halfway onto Snape's lap.

Snape reacted immediately by grabbing her upper arms, whether to shove her away or to keep her from slipping onto the floor, she wasn't sure. She turned to look at him, startled, the laughter dying on her lips, her pupils growing wide. "Sorry," she whispered hoarsely, aware of the warmth and bony firmness of his leg underneath hers.

She's scared of me. Scared I'll do something to her. With reason. I have hurt her before, after all, physically... How satisfying it would be to pull her close now, taste her breath in my mouth...

He guided her carefully back onto her seat, not letting go until she was firmly settled, and even then he let one hand graze her shoulders as he withdrew it, as if loathe to break the contact completely.

Hermione felt a little dizzy. "Is it just me, or is anyone else hot?" she asked a little breathlessly. She unwrapped her scarf and pulled off her hat, immediately realizing as she felt the cold air hit her scalp that she had now exposed her new haircut to public view.

She glanced at Snape and Remus, who were both watching her with interest.

"Hermione," Remus began, grinning, "wow! That looks... Wow! Very grown-up!"

"Thanks," she mumbled shyly and looked at Snape, who was regarding her with a furrow between his brows.

Ye gods, she's gone and cut her hair off. Another Muggle fashion? She looks so vulnerable...so young...

She narrowed her eyes at him. "What?" she challenged. "Never seen a woman's head uncovered before?"

"Whatever possessed you to go and do something like that?" he asked stuffily. "It looks absolutely awful. "

Hermione felt hot anger and shame bubbling up inside her. "Then it's a good thing you'll never get your hands on it again!" She stood up, commanded, "Via!" crossly, and stomped out of the row, the seats with their occupants making way for her as she went.

"Hey, Hermione, what happened to your hair?" Hagrid called after her, but she didn't answer, storming out the door.

Ginny rounded on Severus as well. "You sodding bastard! What gives you the right-- Wait. Did she just say... Again? 'You'll never get your hands on it again'?" She goggled at the man in black, aghast. "It was you!"

Snape looked at Ginny with wide-eyed indignation. "I beg your pardon."

"You! It was you! She told me she fancied someone, but he wasn't interested. I can't believe it! How dare you! You're a cruel, heartless bastard! You made her feel like nothing! That's why she cut her hair off! She felt like the person she was, wasn't good enough for you! How sick is that! You're the one who isn't good enough for her!" Ginny pointed her wand at Snape and fired off a series of hexes in quick succession. "Furnunculus! Putricorpus! Cruragenitis!" All the males in the room cringed along with Snape at the last one, but didn't make any move to stop her. Ginny made to follow Hermione, shouting over her shoulder as Snape's face began to erupt in boils and a vile stench arose from his body, "Not that you'll be able to tell any difference!"

"Come on, we'd better get you fixed up," Remus said, trying to help Snape to his feet while keeping a maximum distance between them. They didn't have any difficulty getting out of the row, as everyone flinched back and covered their noses as they approached. As soon as they were standing free, Remus Apparated them to the gates of Hogwarts.