1. Chapter 1: Welcome To The Madhouse by sitopanaki
2. Chapter 2: For God’s Sake, Collect Your Marbles! by sitopanaki
3. Chapter 3: His Own Little Fan Club by sitopanaki
4. Chapter 4 - A Wand-Less Potions Master by sitopanaki
5. Chapter 5: When Nothing Is Reversed, Deeply Are You Cursed by sitopanaki
6. Chapter 6: Turning The Library Upside Down by sitopanaki
7. Chapter 7 - A Rhyming Potions Master by sitopanaki
8. Chapter 8: Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes by sitopanaki
9. Chapter 9: The Moment Of Truth by sitopanaki
The whole thing was very queer. Since that display of Hermione's yesterday evening his thoughts roamed the vast lands of this incident. He had tried to distance himself from it before, but now that she had started to follow him it was hard to do, especially since he had found “Severus Is My Hero” posters with his scowling face on them all over the school. He sincerely hoped that he had found and removed all of them. He had finally started to do what Albus and Minerva had prompted him to do before: attend to that matter.
But the one thing that really made him want to find out more about Hermione’s odd behaviour was the fact that he remembered witnessing something like this before.
It had been when Hermione had been in her fourth year, not long ago. Lisa Madson, Ravenclaw Head Girl, had started to act funny after the Easter Holidays. She had tormented her friends, left the kitchens in utter chaos, followed Peeves around the castle while loudly singing the national anthem of France, announced her engagement with the Bloody Baron, stopped to speak like a normal person and only giggled at one point, screwed up potions, insulted the staff, built a high pile of chocolate frog cards in the Entrance Hall and other such things. Quite like the things Hermione did now.
Severus was surprised at the similarities between these two girls. Both were Head Girls and both were very studious. Both loved to hold endless reading sessions in the library, particularly in the Restricted Section to which Head Girl and Boy had full access, and both had gone mad in their seventh year. Because of this madness, Lisa Madson had failed all her N.E.W.T.s.
His natural curiosity had taken over, he wanted to explore the mystery, solve it, he wanted to find out what had caused the girls to lose their sanity. And in the meantime, he could as well help Hermione regain hers.
But this morning was a bad day to start this new project as Severus was in a very foul mood today. He had nearly overslept because he had drained half a dozen mugs of coffee after Hermione left last evening. He had needed them; it had been very stressful to have Hermione occupy his rooms.
And into the bargain, his wand was missing. He had noticed this when he wanted to apply the usual shaving charms to his face. Instead he had to use a Muggle razor. And the one person that had been in his quarters after he had last seen his wand was Hermione Granger.
He scowled at his pumpkin pie. He would have to seek her out and make her tell what she had done to his wand. Fantastic. First thing on his how to best ruin you day list: seek out mad Hermione Granger. Tick.
When he arrived at the Gryffindor house table, Severus found Hermione prodding Harry with her wand and amusing herself greatly at it.
“Miss Granger, a word,” he demanded angrily. Harry seemed relieved to hand her over to him.
Severus noticed that Hermione looked very tired, another similarity with Lisa Madson, he realised. He scowled at her, trying to make her go quiet as she was still giggling like a fool.
“Scowling is so sexy, Severus, scowl some more!” she said. Severus found he complied, but rather because he felt like scowling and because he had the funny feeling that she was about to confess her love once more.
“Miss Granger, calm down!” he said, taking both her shoulders and turning her to face him, but holding her at arms-length from him for fear she might try to kiss him. Or do anything else.
She looked rejected and pouted, but he didn’t let himself be influenced by this. “Miss Granger,” he shook her slightly, “I need you to tell me where my wand is.”
No guilty confession from her, no helpful hint as to where it was, but mad giggling and hysterical laughter were what he got out of her. She gasped for breath, unable to draw it while she was spending too much of it on shrieking with ear-piercing laughter.
“Do you know where it is?” he demanded impatiently, aware of all the people who stared at them. Minerva seemed to take extreme pleasure in watching.
Hermione nodded and blushed, still not able to calm down. She looked as though she was going to burst at any moment.
“Where is it, then?”
Even more mad giggling followed this question. The students in the hall were all craning their necks to get a glimpse of what was going on between their Potions Professor and the Head Girl.
“Earth to Miss Granger, where is my wand?”
Hermione slowly lifted her hand and pointed at Severus’ trousers. “There is your wand. I bet you can do wonderful things with it,” she said, catching a pause of her hysterical laughter.
Severus couldn’t believe what she just said. Followed by the eyes, the gossip and the laughter of the whole school (could he deduct house points from all houses and give all of them detention with Filch? he wondered), he seized Hermione at her arm and dragged her out of the hall and into a nearby corridor.
“How do you think you will get away with all this?” he growled menacingly at her.
“I love you,” she said matter-of-factly.
Merlin, please, not again. “Where is my wand?” he tried to distract her from her currently favourite topic which she seemed to approach at every opportunity.
Hermione seemed to sober a bit, now that they were out of the Great Hall. “I don’t know.”
“What do you mean, you don’t know?”
“I meaaaaaan,” she said, swaying slightly on the spot, “that I have noooo idea where it is, Sevvie.”
He decided to abandon making her call him with his proper title. “But you do know what happened to it?“
“Miss Granger?” For she had suddenly sunk to the floor.
Severus stood over her like Goyle in front of a bookshelf; he had no idea what was wrong this time. He squatted down beside her and shook her roughly. She didn’t react. He got up and was about to conjure up a stretcher to transport her to the hospital wing when she suddenly jumped to her feet again, throwing her arms around his neck and hugging him tightly.
“I knew you love me,” she told him trustfully. “Why else would you care for me?”
He pointed out that if someone found her dead or unconscious while he stood next to her, marvelling at the sight before him, there would be many nasty questions. But this wasn’t as convincing to her as it was to him.
“Do you know what we will do once we’ve grown up?” she asked him, a manic gleam on her face. “We will marry and have tons of children!”
“We might, once you’ve told me what you have done to my wand.” To his surprise, it worked. He would have to remember this approach for the next time, though hopefully there’d be no next time.
“I made it invisible.” She sounded very proud of her achievement.
“You. made. my. wand. invisible,” Severus managed. “Are you mad?”
“Isn’t it great?” she asked, jumping on the spot and clapping her hands.
“Yeah, fantastic.”
“Sarcasm is just one more service we offer,” she remarked, taking out a notebook and making a tick on it. Severus peered over the notebook and tried to read what was on it.
Checklist “ The Man Of My Dreams the heading said. Below it was a table, filled with hundreds of words and short phrases.
Hermione looked up at him and proceeded to tick several more points. “Curious .. tick. Helpful .. tick. Charming .. tick. Hair..” She looked at him, squinting at his hair. “Half a tick. Black as ebony wood, but clean as a landfill.”
“Miss Granger, I still need my wand,” Severus impatiently cut her off.
“I told you it’s invisible,” she said, while she took out a ruler and measured the length of his nose. “You know what they say about the length of one’s nose ..”
“Where is it? How do you think I’ll find my wand if it’s invisible!” he shouted.
“I dunno. It’s not my problem, is it?” she said innocently. “It was somewhere in your quarters.”
“Hmmmpf!” Severus decided it was no use trying to get something sane out of her. “Good day to you, Miss Granger,” he said through clenched teeth with a strained false smile on his face. He turned around and strode off, his robes billowing behind him.
“Nice ass .. tick.”
********
He had managed to get his wand back with Albus’ and Minerva’s help. Minerva predictably had burst out laughing when he told them and Albus’ eyes had just twinkled madly like stars on the clear night sky.
“It could have come worse,” Minerva assured him, mockingly patting his back.
“Like .. she could have made your other wand invisible,” Albus offered.
“Honestly, do you ever take anything serious?” Severus complained, sending Albus a dirty look.
Minerva had cast a Detection Charm and in no time Severus had his wand back, accompanied by the teasing of Minerva.
At the moment he was making his rounds in the castle, trying to detect students that were still out after curfew. To his disappointment, he didn’t find any. He walked to the library, hoping to find some over-zealous sixth or seventh year there.
To his great amazement, a faint light emanated from the closed door of the library. It was shortly after midnight, who would be studying now? The students with at least some brain in their head were all in their common rooms or dormitories.
Severus silently opened the door and slid inside. He crept along the many bookshelves, looking for whoever was still there. When he reached the Restricted Section, his search was crowned with success. A student was sitting there, Hermione Granger.
He approached her and was about to shout at her, hoping to make her cower, when he noticed something that made the words stick in his throat.
He approached her and was about to shout at her, hoping to make her cower, when he noticed something that made the words stick in his throat: she wasn’t giggling. Neither was she doing anything unnormal. She was just sitting at the desk, bent over a book, oblivious to her surroundings.
Severus cleared his throat, startling her. She nearly fell off her chair, but caught herself and turned around, wanting to see who was there.
“Professor Snape.”
He was about to make a snide remark at her, when he realised that something was not okay; or rather okay as opposed to its alternative. “‘Professor Snape’? Not Severus, Sevvie, Darling, Sweetheart or Prince Charming?”
A shining strawberry red crept up her cheeks and Hermione lowered her gaze. “I’m sorry for what I have done and will do, Professor,” Hermione apologised. “Did you find your wand?”
“Do you want to take the mickey out of me? I am sorry to inform you that you’ve chosen the wrong person,” he answered coolly.
“I know you must think I’m playing an evil trick on you,” Hermione said sadly.
“Correct. Five points from Gryffinor.”
“I don’t know what has happened to me, but I am sincerely sorry for everything I have done to embarrass you,” Hermione said again. Oddly, she sounded as though she meant what she said. Which confused Severus.
“Why should I believe you?” he asked doubtfully.
“You don’t have to,” Hermione replied. “But now that you are here, do you want to know what has happened to me? Maybe you can help me.”
He strongly doubted that. But he had nothing to do in the dungeons. Essays were graded and sample flasks marked, he had time. “Go on.”
Hermione shut her book and conjured up a chair for him. “Better sit down, the story might take some time.
“It started shortly after the Christmas Holidays,” she recounted. “I was in the library, looking for some light reading in the Restricted Section when I suddenly found an interesting book ..”
The book, titled “The Midnight Book”, had looked like a poetry book and Hermione had wondered why there was a poetry book in the Restricted Section. She took it from the shelf and suddenly words formed on its cover:
A poetry book? My dear, What do you think? If you really believe this, Go get yourself a drink!
She wasn’t used to books that spoke to her, so she was curious to find out what was inside this book. She flicked through it, looking for nothing in particular and landed on a page with a short poem on it.
“I can’t remember all the lines of the poems, though I think if I did, it would help me a great deal. But what I remember is this:
Good day to you, dear reader, I hope you have some time, For whatever lies within you, Will soon be in its prime.
When midnight strikes And nothing is reversed, You are lost, my soul, And deeply are you cursed.”
Hermione sighed. “There were three more stanzes, but I can’t remember them. It’s driving me nuts, because I know they were about how to reverse this.”
“Do you want to tell me,” Severus cut in, “that since you’ve read this poem you have gone mad?”
“Essentially, yes,” Hermione affirmed. “It’s absolutely dreadful. I often can’t remember what I have been doing for hours at a time. In your potions class, I didn’t want to disrupt it, I really, really didn’t. But some voice in my head told me what I had to do and even though I didn’t want to obey this voice, my body just did. When I opened my mouth to answer your question I hadn’t planned to say anything stupid. But I just had to ask you about your fanmail address. I couldn’t prevent it.”
Somehow the whole story sounded very much made-up to Severus. But on the other hand, it was Hermione Granger who was telling it and despite her madness of late she usually had given answers that made sense, even if he would never openly admit it.
“Why are you back to normal now?” Severus asked, eyebrow raised.
“I am back to normal in the time from midnight until one o’clock,” Hermione answered. “But this time is getting shorter and shorter! Last week I was like this for one and a half hours, now I only have one hour for my research!”
“Your research?”
“Do you honestly believe I want to be like that for the rest of my life?” Hermione shrieked. “You can’t imagine how embarrasing it is. You’ve seen what I have done in the dungeons yesterday? You can’t believe how embarassing this is! It’s like this in the common room all the time.
“One night I pretended I was a fairy, I asked everyone to tell me three wishes and I would make them come true. They were really annoyed when I hadn’t stopped this after two hours. I made Seamus’ Potions essay vanish when he said he didn’t want to ever have Potions again. He couldn’t find it and had to rewrite it.
“The other night I went to the boys’ dormitories and tried to persuade Ron and Dean to fall in love with each other. They weren’t exactly enthusiastic about the idea and tried to get rid of me. Which was complicated by the fact that I had shut the door, locked it by magic and taken their wands from them. Ron was about the strangle me at one point.
“On another occasion I felt like playing ‘wild west’. I managed to lay railroads in the common room and tied Harry, who had dozed off in front of the fire place, to them. Lavender could only just free him before the train arrived.
“Then I crawled through the common room on all fours and bit everyone who didn’t pay attention to me in the toes! It was so disgusting. Colin Creevey’s feet tasted like moulded cheese and I couldn’t get the taste from my mouth for three days!”
Despite himself, Severus found the whole thing quite amusing. Maybe he should ask the Headmaster to install monitoring cameras in the common rooms.
“That’s why I come to the library at night, when I am back to normal. I hope to find that book again because I need to know the other three stanzas. Plus, the time to reverse this whole bloody mess seems to be limited. I think the second stanza I told you says that I will stay like this if I can’t find a cure for it. And I can’t bear the stares of my house-mates. They’re driving me mad! I feel like a complete fool!”
“You are behaving like a complete fool,” Severus assured her, earning himself a dirty look from her.
“Will you help me?” Hermione asked him, hope in her brown eyes.
“Why should I“”
“Because, as you see, only having an hour a night to search for a book in the not exactly small library of Hogwarts is no precondition for progress. I’m, stuck, Professor and I desperately need your help! Or do you want to continue receiving confessions of love from me?”
No, he didn’t want this, so agreed to help her find the bloody book. Back in his office, he poured himself a monstrous cup of coffee. He was doing the one thing he hadn’t wanted to do, help Hermione Granger.
The problem with their search was that Hermione couldn’t remember where she had put the book. Severus met her in the library at midnight every night and together they searched the Restricted Section for that damned book, but they couldn’t find it, even though the Restricted Section was a hundred times smaller than the rest of Hogwarts’ library, which was huge.
“We need more time,” Hermione stated one night. Her sane moments had been reduced to thirty-six minutes by now.
Severus sighed, but he saw that she was right. So he decided to take her along to the library after lessons, when she was mad again, which proved to be rather difficult. She often refused to be taken there, claiming that she had to wash her hair or that she was hindered by Harry’s glasses which were attacking her comb.
The days had gone by and formed weeks and still they hadn’t found anything useful.
One day was a Quidditch day and the whole school was out on the grounds, watching the match. It was a good opportunity to do a long and extensive search in the library, Severus thought. It was calmer and more relaxing if there weren’t always students whispering behind their backs, concocting crackpot stories as to why Severus and Hermione were seen together so often these days.
He finished his French toast and drained his cup of coffee, mentally readying himself for a whole day in mad Hermione’s company.
“Batman!” Hermione screamed at him when he approached her, making Ron snort into his pumkin juice.
“Miss Granger, we’re going to the library today,” he told her calmly, ignoring her greeting.
“But it’s Harry’s big day!” Hermione protested. “I want to see him flying on his broomstick!”
“You can do that at other times. We have more important business to attend to.”
“Uuuh, so you’ve finally decided to buy me the wedding gown?” Hermione piped happily.
“Something of that sort.”
Somehow he managed to lure her to the library without attracting too much attention and without making her scream once, which was a huge improvement, as she now usually got screaming fits whenever she had to go through a door.
“Now, Miss Granger,” he began. “I need you to concentrate. Concentrate on where you put that blasted book.”
Hermione closed her eyes and pranced joyfully on the spot. “Like this?” she asked eagerly.
“Yes. Now concentrate on the book. Tell me where you put it.”
She kept her eyes closed and he waited. Waited, waited, waited, for a long, long time. He had the impression that she had dozed off, and his assumption was quickly affirmed when she started to sway and nearly fell over.
“I can’t see anyone!” she screamed excitedly after Severus had woken her up and told her to concentrate again.
“Is that so indeed?”
”And I can’t hear anyone either!” Hermione went on.
“Then take your fingers out of your ears.”
“What?”
“TAKE YOUR FINGERS OUT OF YOUR EARS!” Severus growled impatiently.
“I can’t hear you.”
Severus growled. “Then I won’t marry you.”
Her eyes flew open and the fingers out of her ears. She looked as though she was on the verge of tears again. “But you promised“”
“I promised nothing,” Severus snarled. At least it worked. “Do you remember now where you put the book?”
“I remember a dream I’ve had this night,” she proclaimed proudly. “We were on our honeymoon and“”
“Something really dreadful must happen before we are on our honeymoon,” Severus remarked icily. “So where is this book now?”
Hermione didn’t answer but strolled off, probably searching for a bridesmaid, Severus mused.
It was much more relaxing to search for the book while Hermione wasn’t near him, but he still couldn’t find it. It was vexing. He was sure he’d searched the Restricted Section three times already but still “The Midnight Book” was nowhere in sight.
He wondered whether that book could be in any other section. He randomly picked books from the shelves “ dusty tomes, tiny booklets and he even spotted a dead toad among the shelves which he quickly slipped into his pocket. He found everything and anything, but no “Midnight Book”.
He had turned into another row of shelves when he was suddenly dazzled by a very strong light. His eyes started to hurt, he wasn’t used to such intense light. That’s the reason, besides the annoying lemon drop offers from Albus, why he preferred his former shadowy seat at the high table.
“For god’s sake, Miss Granger, kill that light!” he barked. A moment later the light was off and Hermione looked at him with big eyes.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t want to make you go blind,” she apologised meekly. “But I thought there was an owl attacking you and I wanted to make it go away.”
“Very thoughtful of you,” he remarked, rolling his eyes.
If she wasn’t proposing their marriage, planning their honeymoon or redecorating his office, Hermione sought out vile creatures that threatened Severus’ existence. So far, she had chased away a mummy that wanted to use the toilet paper of his personal bathroom, a muggle dentist that claimed that Severus urgendly needed a resurrection ceremony, a student who had a question about a Potions essay and a cockroach that wanted to destroy the castle.
At the moment Hermione was building a house of books. Severus thought that this was probably the least dangerous thing she could do, as she had minuted earlier tried to put out a non-existent fire with a flaming spell.
Worst of all was that she always wanted to talk to him. He barely found a silent minute to collect all his thoughts, least of all think them.
Despite all his efforts, Severus couldn’t find the book. He sometimes doubted that it even existed, but a dubious chance of bringing Hermione back to normal was better than no chance at all, so he kept searching.
***** ***** ***** ***** ***** ***** ***** *****
“I see you’ve finally started to care for Miss Granger,” Albus stated that evening at the dinner table, shoving a pile of salad onto his plate, decorating it with a lemon drop.
“So it would seem,” Severus answered tiredly.
Though despite all the circumstances, Severus’ mood had considerably lightened. Hermione was still following him everywhere he went and her classes had been cancelled, so he even had to think of something to busy her for the time he was teaching, but this didn’t dampen his recent success:
He had finally found a way to get rid of the stack of lemon drops in his rooms. Binning them, burning them, cooking them, frying them, nothing had helped, they always came back after some moments, scolding him. He had even tried to throw them into the Great Lake to feed the fish in there, but the drops had been afraid of the Giant Squid and clung to his hands. Not even Hagrid had wanted them. On his way back to the castle with the lemon drops still stuck to his hands he had met Dobby, who was enjoying his free day. He half-heartedly offered the house-elf some drops and found to his delight that the elf took them all. The drops seemed to have sensed the good intentions of the elf because they voluntarily left Severus’ hands and jumped into Dobby’s lap.
He was relieved that he finally had gotten rid of the drops. He was even more relieved to find that Albus had run out of lemon drops.
“No drops offered today?” Severus had asked him at breakfast, sipping his coffee.
Albus seemed to be near breaking point when he told Severus that he had awoken this morning to find a house-elf beside his bedstead. The house-elf had informed him that due to an unlucky accident, all the lemon drops had vanished from Albus’ quarters and there was no reserve left in the kitchens.
This news had dislocated Albus’ whole morning routine. Consequently, he had been badly-tempered at breakfast. Severus could prevent him only in the last minute from putting a hex on a Hufflepuff third-year. He had never heard the Headmaster curse that much before.
Severus felt a lot like a master who came home to find his dog jump up at him, waiting for the stick to be thrown, as Hermione always greeted him joyfully when she saw him.
The problem was that now that she didn’t have to attend classes anymore, she was following him everywhere. He had had a heated discussion with her when he had forbidden her to visit him during his lessons.
“But you need some company,” she had tried to persuade him. “You will grow lonely and then I am the only one left who ever wants to speak to you.”
But he had not given in and now Hermione was in his private chambers, hopefully not getting into mischief. If he was lucky, she was sleeping; if not … well, let’s hope he was lucky. He had put spells on his rooms to make them undamagable, but in her state, who knows what she thought up while he didn’t watch over her.
After he had chased the Slytherin fifth-years from the Potions classroom he quickly went to inspect his rooms. He needed to check on Hermione a lot lately. When he opened the door he saw her dancing around the room to music that came from the u-bend.
He cleared his throat and her attention shifted from the music to him. “Oh, you’re back. I’m so glad nothing has happened to you. I had terrible visions of some cuddly toys invading your backyard.”
He refrained from informing her that he didn’t have a backyard as she would happily ignore that piece of information. “What have you been doing while I was teaching?” he asked instead.
“I found a book!” she screeched.
“A book.” He raised an eyebrow.
“Yes, a book! Do you want to see it?” she asked.
“No, I know what books look like.” He had enough of books since they had started to search every corner of the library.
“But it’s a really nice one. It has a midnight-blue cover and talks to me in rhymes!”
Something clicked in his mind. This was the book they had been looking for in the past weeks! “Give me that book,” he demanded. “Where did you get it from?” he inquired when she handed him the book.
“I found it in my school bag. It told me I had put it there.”
“The book told you.”
“Yes,” Hermione said. “If you talk to the book in rhymes, it talks back to you.”
He turned the book in his hands, unsure whether he should or shouldn’t open it. He was afraid that he could go mad like Hermione. Suddenly red-glowing words formed on its front-cover.
If you have a question,
My greasy-haired child,
Put it into rhymes
That are amiably styled.
“Why should I talk to you in rhymes?” he asked the book.
The book, however, didn’t answer. A red arrow appeared below the stanza and pointed at it before it vanished again. Great, Severus thought. Just what I need.
“Alright,” he sighed. “Here comes your stanza:
Bloody book,
Please tell me now
Why I have to rhyme
Like a pregnant cow.”
He didn’t have to wait long for the book’s reply:
Your rhymes are abysmal
And your talent’s wretched,
Perhaps the idea of rhyming
Is, for you, too far-fetched.
But to answer your question
Why you have to rhyme:
It is just a game
That I play all the time.
Severus groaned inwardly. A book that forces to reader to rhyme just for the fun of it. But he needed to know whether he could open it or not:
“Will your hexes affect me
if I open you now?
Please answer, ‘cause my
Rhymes are bad, somehow.”
The book seemed to take some time to contemplate this, while Hermione was laughing madly in some corner of his room. She seemd to find it very funny that his rhyming abilities were even worse than Neville’s abilities to concoct a potion. Finally, a stanza with the reply appeared on top of the book.
I am the Midnight Book,
Affecting only those
Who have a feeling for rhymes,
In highs and in lows.
He supposed that meant that he ran no danger of being hit by one of those uncanny spells within the book. He wanted to know another thing, though:
“Are you sure I can trust you,
Insulting book that you are?
You see, my mind and my rhyming
Are not on a par.”
Severus had the funny feeling that the book was laughing.
My dear child,
Do you really think
That I lie to people
Who are dim as a kink?
Severus thought it best not to inform the book of his opinion on that matter; but, on the good side, he was fairly sure now that the book wouldn’t harm him. And if .. well, one crazy person more or less at Hogwarts wouldn’t stand out.
He opened the book and flicked through it, but couldn’t find the page where the poem Hermione had told him about was on. He turned back to the cover, formulating another stanza:
“I know I’m annoying,
but please tell me this:
I want to know on which page
your latest curse is.”
The book suddenly started to leaf through itself, stopping at a page that contained a poem called “The Midnight Curse.” Severus put a silencing charm on Hermione, because she was squaking delightedly, and read the poem:
The Midnight Curse
Good day to you, dear reader,
I hope you have some time,
For whatever lies within you,
Will soon be in its prime.
Whatever lies within you
Has to be placed there twice,
Go back to where you ingested
This terrible device.
To undo the spell
upon your mind
You have to find the source of all,
The trigger of some kind.
When midnight strikes
And nothing is reversed,
You are lost, my soul,
And deeply are you cursed.
(You don’t know what’s wrong?
Turn to page two hundred and two,
A recipe’s included there
To tell what’s befallen you.)
So all he had to do was find out what that mysterious thing was, get another such thing and make her eat it at the place where she had eaten it before. Great, so no problem in helping Hermione, because in her state Hermione would voluntarily tell him what and where she’d eaten. Of course. Simple task. As simple as surviving a day without coffee.
He read the last stanza of the poem again and turned to page 202. He found a recipe for a potion there. If the book spoke (wrote? rhymed?) the truth, this potion would tell him whatever Hermione had eaten.
He looked up because Hermione was tugging at his sleeve. “What?” he snarled. Hermione opened her mouth and mimed talking, but no sound came out. He remembered the silencing charm he had put on her and lifted it.
“Do you have a paper ship for me?” she asked.
“Why would you need a paper ship?” he asked, annoyed.
“Because there’s a great lake in your bathroom and I want to play with the ship there!”
Severus conjured up a ship and gave it to Hermione because he couldn’t affort any disurbance in the next hour, as that was the time the potion he would have to make claimed to take.
It was a simple potion and he had all the ingredients it needed in his store-room. Unfortunately for him, Hermione kept coming from wherever she was playing at the moment and threw other things into the bubbling cauldron. Because of this Severus was forced to brew the potion a total of four times before it was finished.
“Miss Granger?” Severus called into the bathroom. “Come here please, I have a drink for you.”
In an instant, Hermione was at his side, looking eager to drink whatever he had in store for her. He gave her a cup full of the potion and she drank it. It seemed to taste well, because she asked him if she could get more of it. After ten minutes, she started to emanate a yellow light and after ten more minutes, that light was gone. Severus gave her another paper ship because hers had shipwrecked.
He opened the “Midnight Book” again and looked for the verses that told him what the yellow light meant.
If the drinker emits
A light white as snow,
Nothing’s wrong with him,
As you surely know.
Light green, however,
Tells you the tale
Of spinach that hexed him;
And that’s why he’s pale.
But if the colour is red
That lights the room,
A herring’s been eaten,
I presume.
But if he pops up in yellow,
The colour of many crops,
You know that the drinker was hit
By The Curse Of The Lemon Drops.
Lemon drops? Severus thought disbelievingly. Not lemon drops! After he had managed to ban all lemon drops from the castle this manic book told him that what he needed to cure Hermione were LEMON DROPS? Fantastic. Great. Marvellous.
But there was another thing that nagged him: Albus Dumbledore and his lemon drop addiction. He was a ticking time bomb. Never ever must the Headmaster lay his hands onto this book, or what had happened to Hermione would also happen to him, provided that he could rhyme to the satisfaction of the book.
Or …
No.
But perhaps?
No.
But maybe ..
There was another possibility. Maybe the Headmaster had already had a good look at that book. Maybe he too was cursed by The Curse Of The Lemon Drops. But no, that was ridiculous. Although it would explain certain things... Maybe he was less affected by the curse than Hermione.
But Severus’ primary problem at the moment was the one of getting lemon drops. Especially now that they were nearing the time limit. Hermione had a total of five sane minutes left a night.
He had searched the castle again and again. He had ordered the house elfs to search the castle again and again. And neither had found a lemon drop. Severus couldn’t believe that in a place as huge as Hogwarts there wasn’t one bloody damned lemon drop left.
He had wondered where he should go to get the drops when he remembered the note Albus had slipped him during one of their meal-time conversations. He took the note from one of his many pockets and, pondering why he had actually kept it, read the name of the shop where Albus got his lemon drops from. Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes.
Somehow Hermione must have found out that he planned a trip to Diagon Alley because she never left his side for two days and asked him every minute whether she could accompany him on this trip.
Irrationally, he had said yes. And now he was standing scowling at the entrance to Diagon Alley while Hermione was trying to do a headstand on a lamppost.
“Miss Granger, come!” he growled.
She abandoned her failing attempts to manage the headstand and ran towards one of the shops.
Several hours later, they still hadn’t reached the Weasley’s joke shop because Hermione kept escaping Severus und running into random shops.
She had thrown herself into the large ice-cream boxes of Florean Fortscue’s Ice-Cream Parlour, sending off several old witches screaming at Severus that he had to learn to control his daughter or else they would take this case in front of the Wizengamot.
She had filched the Firebolt from the shop window of Quality Quidditch Supplies and attempted to fly off with it, which had resulted in Severus earning himself a life-long ban on that shop.
She had stormed into Madam Malkin’s Robes for All Occasions and demanded to get a customised Halloween costume. Severus hadn’t had a clue about where she had been and when he arrived in the shop her costume was ready and he grudgingly had to pay for it.
She had magically locked the doors of Flourish and Blotts and thus hindered the people inside the shop from leaving it. She had refused to tell Severus the spell with which she had done it for about thirty minutes, after which he had managed to open the doors again by testing all unlocking spells he knew.
After Hermione had knocked down several people by running through Diagon Alley to prove to Severus that she was faster than him they finally reached Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes. Hermione again was faster than Severus and entered the shop before him.
“Hermione! What pleasant surprise!” the twins greeted her. Their smiles lessoned a bit when they saw who entered next.
“Er .. Professor Snape?” Fred was the first to get a grip on himself and close his mouth that had fallen open. “To what do we owe the honour of your visit?”
It was a rather small shop, but the shelves where all chock-full of items “ cakes, rubber ducks, sweeets, books and many other things, no doubt bewitched to do mischief.
“I need lemon drops,” Severus growled silently.
“Of course .. do you want the lemon drops to do anything? Growl, scowl, howl, yowl? Or rather some that change their colour, or we also have lemon drops that turn into badly-written Potions essays once you shout at them to copy something down .. but no, I don’t think you want the last type, do you?” George said.
“I only want ordinary lemon drops.”
“Shall we wrap them?”
“No, I need them for Miss Granger .. by the way, where is she now?”
Hermione was at the moment hiding under the counter.
“What are you doing there, Hermione?” Fred asked.
“I feel there’s something in the air .. something evil is one its way here .. don’t “ don’t you feel it?” she said in a quivering voice, quite like Trelawny’s. “There! There! You have to hide, Fred! Quickly, come here to me!” she pulled him under the counter, not paying attention to all the sharp corners that were on the counter, scratching him.
Severus watched the spectacle, smirking, happy that for once Hermione’s madness was released on other people than himself.
“She’s developed quite a sense of melodrama,” George remarked.
“I still need lemon drops.”
“Of course.” George bent over a small wooden box and took out some lemon drops. “How many do you want?”
“I don’t know,” said Severus, glancing estimatingly at Hermione. “I guess it’d be best you give me all you have.”
George’s eybrows shot into the air (literally, he must have put some charm on them) and Fred, who had managed to disentangle himself from Hermione’s strong grip, asked incredulously, “why do you need them, Professor?”
“That is my business.”
“And why have you brought Hermione if you only want to buy ordinary lemon drops?” George asked, suspiciously. “You’re not“”
“No, we’re not,” Severus answered sourly. “If you must know, Miss Granger has been hit by ‘The Curse Of The Lemon Drops’ and is currently unable to articulate sane sentences. She usually screams, screeches, shrieks, confesses her love for me or demolishes my quarters.”
“The Curse Of The “ wait, she confessed her love for you?” they gasped.
“She’s mad, and I am certainly not in love with her.”
The twins audibly let out the breath they had held. Severus snorted. “You know something about this curse?” he asked.
“Why would you think that?”
“You’re not very good at hiding your thoughts. They’re written plainly on your face,” Severus informed the twins.
They looked at each other, apparently searching for any writing on themselves.
“What do you know about this curse?” he prompted impatiently.
“Well ..” Fred started. “Do you mean you’ve got the book? She’s been hitten by the real curse? The real Curse Of The Lemon Drops, not just the curse of the lemon drops?”
“Yes.”
“Did you brew the potion to find out what she’d eaten?”
“Yes.”
“And you didn’t go mad like her?”
“Yes.”
“Really?”
“Yes!”
“Are you sure?”
“YES!”
The twins burst into manic laughter. “You mean, you can’t rhyme well?”
“Apparently not.”
More laughter. “That’s great, you know. Do you have the book with you?” George asked innocently.
“Yes, of course.”
He handed them the book and they looked at its cover. After some minutes, they couldn’t control themselves anymore and burst out laughing again.
“What’s so funny about this?” Severus asked angrily.
“The book just showed us the conversation you had,” explained Fred.
“Your rhyming is really abysmal,” George added.
Severus’ eyes narrowed. “Why don’t you have to talk to it in rhymes?” he asked, suspicious of the whole situation. Hermione was still hiding under the counter, now persuading another customer to do the same.
“Because we wrote it.”
“You wrote it.”
“Yes, we wrote it. But had we known that Hermione would find it, we would have attached a warning to it,” George said sympathetically.
“It was for fun. Or do you really think anyone would be eating a herring, spinach or lemon drops in the library? Madam Pince would go mad!”
“Hermione seems to have done exactly this,” Severus pointed out.
“Yeah well .. it seems you have to get her there and make her eat lemon drops again.”
“Will she be back to normal then?”
“I hope so,” Fred said. “We never really had a chance to test the curses. Madam Pince chased us away from the library whenever we brought the spinach there. We simply left the book, too.”
Throwing a glance at Hermione, who by now had managed to make two more customers hide under the counter, Severus decided it was time to go. “May I have the drops, now?”
The twins handed him the drops and pulled Hermione out from under the counter. “Unless you want to stay with us rather than with him?” Fred asked her jokingly.
“Nothing separates me from my Sevvie!” she shouted enraged at the twins and stomped out of the shop, following Severus.
Back at Hogwarts, Severus wasted no time dragging Hermione to the library and forcing her into the Restricted Section. Unfortunately, she seemed to have developed some kind of phobia of these surroundings.
“I don’t want to go in there!” she shrieked hysterically. “There are mad men in there! A banshee could wait around the corner, or a mummy! I don’t want to go there, Sevvie! Please, don’t make me!” she pleaded.
But Severus ignored this (he was even used to it now) and jostled her around the corner. “See a banshee there?” he mocked.
“No,” she replied sheepishly.
“So there is no point in letting me wait for my well-deserved freedom.”
“But they almost always hide behind the bookshelves,” Hermione tried.
“I promise to watch out for any attack on my life,” Severus replied. Hermione looked at him, terrified. “Oh, and on yours, too. Now ... do you want to show me where you usually read in here?” He had to find the location of her lemon drop ingestion.
“Why do you want to know that?” she asked, sensing a conspiracy against her.
“Because if I know, I can send you straight to hell where you belong. Or maybe give you a short hug,” he added, seeing that she didn’t like the hell-alternative.
“Lemon drop?” he asked when she had shown him her favourite reading spot. She accepted and flipped it into her mouth.
Severus accio-ed himself a chair and sat down, waiting hopefully for the lemon drop to take actions. He waited and waited and waited for several minutes which seemed like hours to him.
He had conjured up a box containing paper ships for her and a little swimming pool where she could let them swim. She was happily playing shipwrecking when she suddenly stopped and looked up at him.
He looked back at her, expectantly. Finally, he thought, the curse will be lifted. He would have his privacy back. He wouldn’t have to play babysitter to a seventh year student aymore. He would be able to teach again without worrying about his quarters.
“My captain has drowned,” Hermione informed him. “The people are panicking and nobody knows what to do. They don’t have any rescue boats. They are going to die a very slow death, suffering while the ship will gradually be sinking. After several hours, half of the occupants will be dead. After days, only a man and a dog will be left. The dog will eat the man or the man will eat the dog, depends on who gets the idea first. Eventually, the one who has eaten the other will die, too, because there aren’t any fish in the ocean, as the ocean is a fish-less ocean. Isn’t that tragic?”
Well, there were other things he found to be more tragic. Like Hermione still being batty. “Don’t you feel any different, Miss Granger?” he asked, crestfallen.
“Why should I? I’m not on the sinking ship.”
But he was, though not literally “ yet. If she went on like that, soon the whole of Hogwarts would be flooded.
His shoulder slumped down, Hermione still wasn’t cured. He didn’t know what else he could do. He had tried everything he could imagine. She had to be normal by now! Theoretically. Unless that blasted book has kept something secret. Severus seized the book and was about to throw it far, far away when some tiny portion of his mind told him that if someone knew what the book has kept quiet about, it would most probably be the book itself.
“I know you concealed things,
Now give me a clue:
Are the things your poems promised
Ever going to be true?”
This time he was sure that the book grinned, or rather smirked. It was unmistakeable. The midnight-blue cover turned purple. Probably from suppressed laughter, Severus thought grimly. He quickly focussed his attention back on the book, as new stanzas formed on the cover, giving him the answer to his question.
Politeness doesn’t seem
To be a trademark of you,
Which is somthing I’m forced to notice
Again and anew.
But now that you ask
I have to spill the beans:
Whatever’s on my pages
Is true by all means.
And before you explode
From suppressed anger and such,
It all takes some time,
I will tell you that much.
Severus drew in a deep breath. He’d just found himself a rescue boat and was shipping happily to the next island. It would only take time for Hermione to become normal. The question was, home much time.
“I have another query about
The last curse you cast:
How much time does it take
Before the person’s rid of it at last?”
His stanza vanished and only seconds later, the book’s reply appeared on the front cover, red-lettered as usual:
I do not know for sure,
It depends on who it is,
Twenty-four hours at maximum,
Then she’ll be alright, the little miss.
Twenty-four hours, a full day. He could get by with it. He had managed to bear with her for the last two months, after all.
“Miss Granger, I believe it is time to go back to my rooms,” he told her. “I have essays to grade.”
Several hours later, Hermione was still in his bedroom where he had deposited her after they arrived at his rooms. Severus was sitting at his desk, silently complaining about the dumbness of his students.
His bedroom door creaked open and a bushy head peered out. Hermione’s eyes travelled around the room and finally fixed on him. She closed the door quietly and walked towards his desk while he pretended not to notice her. You never know what she’s up to.
“You stopped the curse?” she asked bluntly.
“Very perceptive of you,” he answered. Silently, he was congratulating himself for his glorious victory.
Hermione threw himself around his neck. “I’m so glad I’m back to normal again!” she said breathlessly. “I thought I’d never experience a sane moment again. You know, we “ I had nearly no time left after midnight. It’s such a luck that I “ you found the book in time. I don’t want to know what would have happened if you hadn’t!”
“The curse wouldn’d have been lifted,” Severus suggested helpfully.
“Well, that’s a possibility. But you see, so much more could have happened. And you must be very happy that I won’t bother you again! I’m sure it had been a most demanding time for you. I can’t even remember a lot. Only, that we went for a walk yesterday. But not much more. I guess I was very difficult to manage, but that is even more reason to“”
“Miss Granger, now that you’re cured, would you care to stop behaving as though you weren’t?”
“Um .. right,” Hermione said. “I only wanted to thank you. Well .. I’ll go now. Thanks, again, Professor.”
The door closed behind her and Severus leaned back in his chair, marvelling at the quietness that suddenly settled in in his quarters. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, and a swig of coffee.
***** ***** ***** ***** *****
A silver-bearded wizard wearing half-moon spectacles walked along the bookshelves, carrying a packet of spinach. He was looking for something, carefully flicking through the books in the shelves and squinting at their titles.
He was chewing a lemon drop which he had gotten from one of his staff members earlier. A slight frown could be found on his forehead, but it vanished when he found the midnight-blue book he was searching for.
“Ah, there you are,” he murmured silently to himself, taking the book from the shelf. “Lemon drops were interesting ... I wonder how spinach works ...”
- THE END -