West, however, wasn't going anywhere. The skies were so crowded at this time of year he'd scarcely get off the ground before he'd have to turn back.
Hermione ached to ask him along. It would be so lovely to share Christmas with the boy she loved. But she knew her parents would never approve. Eleven year olds, even those in love, do not spend the holidays at each other’s homes. And there were only the two bedrooms. The Grangers, though smart and stylish in some ways, were much too proper to ask a guest to sleep on the couch.
Everyday they hurt a little more. They spent every possible moment together and promised repeatedly to think about each other day and night. As the carriages began taking students to the station the two of them were near tears. Just as the last carriage was loading she threw her arms around him and they kissed. Then she jumped in and was gone.
Ron tried to cheer West up. "Hey! I'll be here with you." Some how it wasn't the same.
He played their favorite music while sitting there waiting, waiting for her return. He pictured her lovely face. He talked to her. He put his arms around the delusion and danced. On Christmas day he played a most heart-felt song. *
Greeting cards have all been sent
The Christmas rush is through
And I still have on wish to make
A special one for you...
Merry Christmas Darling
We're apart, that’s true
But I can dream and in my dreams
I'm Christmassing with you.
Holidays are joyful
There's always something new
But every day’s a holiday
When I'm near to you.
The lights on my tree
I wish you cold see
I wish it every day.
Log's on the fire,
Fill me with desire
To see you and to say
That I wish you Merry Christmas Darling
Happy New Year too...
I've just one wish on this Christmas Eve
I wish I were with you.
Hermione returned from what was, surprisingly, the best Christmas of her life. It had indeed hurt to be away from West, but she hadn't realized just how much she'd missed her parents. And they were so happy for her when she told them about West it was like meeting him all over again. But when she met McGonagall...
"ARRESTED? What Do You MEAN, ARRESTED? Where IS He?"
"Calm yourself, Miss Granger. I'll explain everything."
"EXPLAIN? How Can You EXPLAIN? Take Me To Him!" Her eyes had the feral glow of a wildcat as she gripped the old woman's robe front.
"Nurse, tranquilize her."
Pomfrey pointed her wand at the girl and said, "Val-i-um!" The wild look faded into placid smile that said there was nothing to worry about.
McGonagall looked her in the eye. "Miss Granger, can you hear and understand me?" A slow nod answered. "The spell has quieted your emotions but left your rational mind functioning." A deep sigh followed. "Mr. Westinghouse has indeed been arrested. It happened Christmas night."
He was alone with Professor Snape in the lab. Hours after first year curfew Mr. Weasely began to worry. He went down to the common room where some of the upper class men were playing exploding snap or wizard chess. Among them was his brother. "Percy, has West come in yet?"
"What? West? Isn't he in bed?"
"No. Would I be asking if he was?"
"Well where is he?"
"I DON'T know. He said he was going with Snape to the lab.
Percy rose up to full pomposity. "That's PROFESSOR Snape, Ron. I'll go check." Ron started to sit down to a chessboard to wait. "Get back up to bed. You'll see him when he gets there."
I met Percy coming out of the fat lady portal. "Professor, Mr. Westinghouse isn't in the dorm. Have you seen him? He was last seen with Professor Snape heading for the dungeons."
"I certainly have not. He may be the Professor's right hand but he is not excused from the usual rules of first years. I'll go with you and when I find him..."
Outside the lab door Percy and I heard a strange whimpering. What we saw stunned us. Standing over the smoldering heap that had been the Professor was Mr. Westinghouse with his wand drawn. His eyes were wide and he seemed not to know what he was looking at.
Percy squeaked. "West! What... What have you done?”
He didn’t answer. He didn’t even look up. “Mr. Westinghouse!” I stated firmly. He still didn’t respond. “Mr. Wesley, go right this minute to Professor Dumbledore’s office and bring him here."
The simple smile was still on the girl's face but the eyes seemed near tears. The professor finished with, "The entire faculty is working on finding out what happened. I assure you, if he's innocent he will be cleared, but for now he must be confined."
Though the faculty had tried to keep the events surrounding Snape’s absence quiet it was soon known to all. In the Headmaster's office Dumbledore, McGonagall, Flitwick and Nurse Pomfrey all looked at each other hoping someone had an answer. Dumbledore asked, "Well Poppy, anything new with Mr. Westinghouse?"
The nurse shook her head. "Not a thing since the morning after the event. He started responding to questions but still insists he doesn't know what happened."
Flitwick said in his high, squeaky voice, "I've examined his wand. It seems the last spell cast from it was one I'm completely unfamiliar with, some sort of ball lightning."
Dumbledore and all the pictures along the walls wagged there heads and muttered gravely. "What could you tell from Snape's wand?"
"I couldn't even identify it for certainty. There was a charred smudge on the floor near what was left of Snape's hand, but it told me nothing."
"There is no record of a student being suspected of murdering teacher. We have no precedent."
"Headmaster, where IS Mr. Westinghouse?"
"I've confined him to a cell in the lower dungeons until we can decide what to do with him. It seemed the best course."
West sat all alone in the bare cell, his dinner on the floor next to him untouched. His arms were wrapped tightly about him as he rocked back and forth sobbing. Neither death nor imprisonment frightened him, not per say. But the thought of never seeing Hermione again was heart breaking.
The house elf sent to collect the dishes stood by for many minutes watching. House elves are brought up from infancy to be concerned about human happiness and West had been most kind to the elves of Hogwarts since his arrival. Also they had little love for Snape as he had always treated them shabbily.
Finally he could remain silent no longer. “Is there anything Maynard can do for the young master?” He immediately regretted his choice of words as he had noticed West always winced at being called master. But this time the tall youth paid no notice. In fact he seemed unaware of the elf at all. “Please Mr. West! Please tell Maynard what he can do to help.”
Perhaps it was hearing his name or perhaps he was just tired of looking inward, but he now looked up at the elf. But the utterly non-human face was not what he saw. Instead he saw the flawless complexion and sparkling hazel eyes of the girl who held his heart. A sad smile spread across his face. His heart raced at the brief joy that filled it. He breathed one word, “Hermione!”
The elf was taken aback. He was not used to this form of address. But at least the young master was responding. What did he want? But elves are not stupid. “Ah, you want Maynard to deliver a message to the one called Hermione. Yes, yes, what is the message?”
West was still gazing into the most beautiful face in the world. Barely above a whisper he breathed, “Hermione, I love you.”
In Gryffindor common room Ron, Neville and Dean stood around wondering. Ron opened the discussion. "I hope they don't send him to Azkaban. Murdering Snape shouldn't be that serious a crime. Even the Slytherins aren't all that broken up."
Dean questioned, "Can they even send him to Azkaban? He’s an American citizen. Will they have to send him back for trial under their laws?”
“That is an excellent question, Mr. Thomas.” came the voice of Professor McGonagall who had just entered through the portal. “The Americans are very protective of their people and are inclined to take drastic steps to prevent foreign governments from punishing them, even when such punishment is justified. A few years ago an adult wizard from The States was tried and convicted by the Wizengamot. The wizardiss conducting the trial sentenced him to death. The branch of their military that deals with magical matters, Mysterious Forces they call them, not only facilitated his escape, ‘busted him out’ is how they phrased it, but then assassinated the wizardiss.”
Ron was shocked. “How come I never heard of it?”
Professor McGonagall raised an eyebrow. “You never heard of Diana Spencer?”
For three days after her return Hermione attended no classes, took no meals and missed bed check. But she wasn’t missing; everybody knew where she was. Professor Dumbledore nearly tripped over her every time he left his office as she knelt in silent supplication in front of the gargoyle that guarded his door. Finally Professor McGonagall said at the Saturday morning faculty meeting, “We simply must do something, Headmaster. Not only is she missing important classes she’s not eating and I’m sure she’s not getting proper sleep.”
“Then the problem will correct its self in a few more days, or at worst at the end of term when we expel her.” snorted the temporary potions teacher.
All the other teachers erupted in an angry babble. McGonagall burst out, “Professor VITREOUS! We are NOT expelling the best transfigurations student I’ve seen in my thirty years teaching.” Flitwick, Sprout and the others concurred. “In fact, she’s the best in your class as well, even better than your precious Slytherins.”
Dumbledore rapped his fist on the desk. “That will be quite enough of that. We are gathered here to discuss constructive solutions. Now, has ANYBODY something useful to contribute?” They all looked embarrassed as they shook their heads, all except Vitreous who just snorted again. “Nor do I. And to compound the problem Mr. Westinghouse hasn't eaten a bite since his confinement. It seems the only answer is to release him from his cell BUT confine him to the castle. Then he and Miss Granger can return to a more or less normal life until the investigation is complete.”
“There will be no make up work in MY class.”
“Thank you for the information Vitreous.” Dumbledore sighed. “I don’t expect any special treatment for them. However, may I remind you that Professor Snape’s performance rating now becomes yours and you can’t expect a stellar score without Mr. Westinghouse’s help.” The junior professor looked even sourer than before. “Mr. Filch and I will now proceed to the dungeons where I will inform the boy of my decision.”
Each teacher neatly avoided tripping over the small form at the foot of the stairs. Dumbledore was the last one out. “Miss Granger, you may return to your dormitory. Mr. Westinghouse is being given the run of the castle during the investigation.” The smile that greeted him was almost worship.
After a morning’s rest and a wash up Hermione was ready to face the world for lunch. But waiting in the common room for West proved fruitless. When Ron saw her he called out. “Hermione! You look almost alive.”
She answered as if the complement was appreciated but not important. “Uh, thanks, Ron. Uh, where’s West?”
Ron looked a little worried. “Up stairs in the dorm. When McGonagall brought him in he was in pretty bad shape, shocky like he’d been in a war. He’d jump if anybody spoke to him. Now he’s just sitting on the edge of his bed looking about like he’s not sure it’s all real.” He went on to lunch.
Hermione stared at the stairs. It was a terrible thing she was considering. To go up to the boys’ dorm went against all her upbringing even if Ron, Seamus, Neville and Dean were out. But the boy she loved was hurting and afraid. She steeled herself and went up.
The plaque on the door said, “First Years.” She took a breath and pushed it open. The tall form sat on the bed. At the sound of the door he turned and, seeing the girl of his dreams, the only thought he’d had while in the cell, leapt up and scooped her into his arms.
A small part of his mind told him the locals wouldn’t consider it proper, but Hermione didn’t seem to mind and nobody else mattered. Nobody else mattered at all. He was kissing her, kissing her as if it were life itself. As if it were more than life. As if he were going to the electric chair and the last thought he wanted on his mind when he faced his Maker was the taste of her lips.
She was in as euphoric a state as he. For three days she’d knelt on the stone floor fearing she’d never see him again, fearing that they’d take him away from her and never give them a chance to say good by. Now they were together. It wasn’t over yet. It still looked bad for him and if something didn’t happen he’d go to prison for life. But for now they were together and that was all that mattered.
*Merry Christmas Darling Karen Carpenter