we bring you
the seventh installment of
A Sackful of Holiday Horsefeathers
Hermione had left, and Minerva McGonagall was alone in her office. She pulled out a catalogue from her private desk and began leafing through it.
"Speedy Delivery--Your Package will arrive in 24 Hours or Less!" announced an advertisement on the first page. Minerva put on her silver spectacles and flipped to the Divination Section.
A few minutes later, a movement past the doorway caught her attention. She turned her head but saw nothing. How odd! She could've sworn that somebody had just walked by.
Then the person returned: it was her dashing young man, Remus Lupin. He placed a hand on the doorjamb and gazed at Minerva from across the room. Smiling tentatively, he said, "Hello, Minny."
"Hello, Remus," said Minerva, pushing the book away from her. "Please come in. I've just been looking through this silly catalogue."
Remus entered the room and, spying the empty chair that Hermione had been using, walked over to it and sat down.
Minerva was now at eye level with him. "I have to buy a Secret Santa present for Sibyll Trelawney," she confided.
Remus smiled, peering at the pictures on the open page. "Ah, that would explain the Unbreakable Crystal Ball," he said humorously.
"Oh, that! I have no idea what Sibyll needs. It seems like she has everything as it is."
"Well, you don't have to get her anything magical," said Remus. "I've found Chinese fortune cookies are very good. Does Sibyll have a sweet tooth?"
Minerva raised her eyebrows thoughtfully. "Perhaps. Hmmm. Maybe I could transfigure this book into a whomping big tin of fortune cookies."
"Could you do that?" Remus exclaimed, his stomach reminding him that lunch was close at hand.
"Yes, I think so," said Minerva. "I could turn each page into a separate cookie, but I'd have to practice first, or else they might taste too much like paper."
"I hate it when that happens," Remus said in sympathy, still keeping his eyes upon her. He thought to himself that she looked more beautiful every time he saw her. Today she was donning a gray, woolen capelet around her shoulders, which was fastened at her neck with a row of elegant buttons. "I like your cape, or, uh, whatever it is you call that,†he said, suddenly wishing he had more knowledge of clothing terminology. –It's different.â€
–Thank you," she said warmly, forgiving his lack of knowledge.
"But then again, you're always fashionable," said Remus.
"Fashion is over-rated,†Minerva declared.
"Style, then," said Remus. "I meant to say you're always stylish. But then, I always had a thing for girls in tartan.â€
Minerva smirked at him. –Have you now?â€
Remus glanced at the stack of papers upon her desk waiting to be graded. "You're not being too harsh on the students, I hope?" he asked.
"I'm only being fair," she stated.
"You didn't give them any tricky questions, did you? Like those 'A and B,' 'A and C,' 'B and C,' 'None of the above' questions?"
"Are you trying to pester me?" she asked.
"Yes. Is it working?"
"No," she said calmly. "It takes a lot more than that to get on my nerves."
"Then wait a minute; I'll think of something," Remus assured her. He leaned back in his chair and squeezed his eyes shut, presumably trying to come up with a new way to tease her.
***
Harry and Ron were squished together beneath the Invisibility Cloak, trying not to make a sound as they shuffled along the old, wooden flooring that was prone to squeaking.
"Ouch! Ron, you stepped on my foot again," whispered Harry, who was ahead of Ron.
"I can't help it if you've got big feet," said Ron.
"Me? You're the one with the clown feet, falling all over me," said Harry.
"You know, this isn't as easy as it sounds," noted Ron. "An invisibility cloak seems like a nifty idea, sure, but when you try to put it into practice... I mean, they really need to invent an invisible bodysuit."
"Are you on about that again?" cried Harry. He looked down at his feet and saw his toes peeping out from the cloak with every step he took. "Why don't you just go and invent it yourself?"
"I will," said Ron.
Satisfied with Ron's promise to make him an Invisible Bodysuit one day, Harry Potter stopped talking, and the boys continued on in silence.
They penetrated deeper into the castle. It was unusually dark and empty with all the students away on holiday. After many twists and turns, Ron and Harry had almost arrived at their destination. They had only to go down one more flight of stairs, and they would be at McGonagall's study.
But they were too late; Hermione came striding down the hall toward them, and they realized their chance had slipped away. She mounted the stairs, oblivious to their invisible presence, as they pressed themselves tightly against the wall to avoid touching her.
Hermione loudly blew her nose as she passed them, and so she didn't notice the boys' heavy breathing.
'That was a close one,' thought Ron.
Harry let out a sigh as she reached the top of the stairs. Then, as if in a silent accord, he and Ron turned around and followed her.
She led them straight back to Gryffindor Tower. Standing in front of the painting of the Fat Lady, Hermione uttered the latest password: "Greasy, grimy, gopher guts.†The Fat Lady opened the passage door, bestowing a friendly smile upon Hermione, and the girl stepped inside.
Harry and Ron were close behind Hermione. They attempted to sneak in after her, but the Fat Lady slammed the door shut.
"There'll be none of that shenanigans, thank you very much," said the Fat Lady crossly, giving them a disapproving glare.
Harry scoffed. "But we know the password! It's 'greasy, grimy, gopher guts!'"
"I don't care," she snipped. "It's the principle of the thing. When are you boys going to learn that you shouldn't go around spying on people?"
"We wouldn't have to spy on her if she'd just tell us what's going on," said Ron in their defense.
The Fat Lady went on, "Not only is it impolite, it's stalking. No girl appreciates a stalker. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to finish my cinnamon coffee in peace and quiet. Good day, gentlemen."
The boys tore off the Invisibility Cloak in frustration and tossed it on the ground.
"There's something weird going on," said Harry.
"This is Hogwarts," said Ron. "There's always something weird going on."
"But this is different!" Harry insisted. "We've always been able to solve things before, but now it's like everyone knows what's going on except for us."
"Like we're the only ones in the dark?" paraphrased Ron.
"Yeah," said Harry. "You know, we ought to be able to figure it out. After all, we did solve the mystery of the Philosopher's Stone."
"And Tom Riddle's diary," added Ron. "And we saved Ginny's life!"
"And we found out that Sirius was innocent, and that Peter Pettigrew was to blame instead," continued Harry.
"And we saved Buckbeak!" exclaimed Ron, remembering Hagrid's former pet Hippogriff.
"And I traveled back in time to save my own life, as well as everyone else's, with the Patronus Charm that Professor Lupin taught me," added Harry.
"Also, you've escaped from the Dark Lord too many times to count," said Ron.
"Yes, that is true," said Harry. He pressed his ear against the common room door.
"Do you hear anything?" asked Ron.
"Just a lot of giggling," replied Harry.
"Damn it! They're having a lesbian orgy, and we're missing it," said Ron.
Harry quickly pried his ear away from the door. "Ron! Your sister is in there!"
"Oh!" Ron came out of his daydream with a start. "Sorry. I must've forgot about that. I take back the lesbian orgy thing I said. It's--ewww, that's just wrong."
Harry went back to eavesdropping. "I think they're braiding each other's hair," he whispered.
"What are they saying?" inquired Ron.
Harry said, "I can't tell. Oh, wait!" He paused. "Hermione is telling Elizabeth that she likes her drawing."
"A drawing?"
"She drew a sketch of Ginny," explained Harry.
"Who did?" asked Ron.
"Elizabeth," said Harry.
"Wow, Ginny's finally making new friends," said Ron. His sister Ginny was famous for her shyness.
"Ron!" Harry said angrily. "You made me miss what they were saying."
"Sorry."
"Oh, great. Now I can't hear anything," said Harry, leaning his body ever closer to the passage door.
Suddenly, Harry was forced backward as if blown over by a strong wind, and he landed hard on his bottom. "Ow!"
The door had swung open, and Hermione was the first to exit. Seeing Harry sprawled out on the floor, she exclaimed in an outpouring of concern, "Harry, are you all right?" The other two girls gathered around and offered him looks of sympathy.
"What happened?" asked Ginny, kneeling down beside her longtime crush Harry.
Ron thought fast. "We were just about to say the password, and then the door shot open and smashed Harry in the face!"
"Oh, Harry, I'm so sorry!" Hermione apologized. She automatically bent down to comfort him and cradled his head in her hands. His hair was so soft and black it reminded her of raven feathers.
"I'm all right," said Harry, putting on his brave face.
"Oh, I had no idea you were on the other side," Hermione said. She examined his head. "Oh, good. I don't see any bruising."
Just briefly, Ron was struck by her vague resemblance to Madam Pomfrey.
"Will he be all right?" asked Elizabeth.
"Oh, sure," said Ron confidently. "He's been through much worse. This is like a paper cut to him. No, less than a paper cut. It's like a microscopic paper cut."
"Oh, Harry," said Ginny breathlessly. "You will be okay, won't you? You didn't break your tail bone, did you?"
Harry spluttered, "No, I don't think so!"
"I'll help you up," said Ginny, placing her hand in his.
Hermione grabbed his other hand, and together they pulled him to his feet.
***
Remus and Minerva approached the entrance to the Great Hall walking arm in arm. Remus gently broke away and went before her.
"After you, Lady Minerva." He pushed against the heavy oak door.
"Thank you, Sir Remus, my valiant knight," said Minerva, striding gracefully into the hall as he held the door open for her.
Dumbledore smiled at Minerva as she settled in her chair beside him, and he turned her glass of water into a Manhattan cocktail.
Remus picked up his glass and frowned at Dumbledore. "Where's mine?"
Dumbledore scrunched up his eyebrows and murmured an incantation. Immediately, Remus Lupin's glass was filled with dry vermouth and gin. There was even a jalapeno olive at the bottom of his martini. "That's better," he said.
Minerva McGonagall looked across the table and saw that Snape's chair was empty. Her day was getting better and better! Severus Snape gave her seriously creepy vibes, mainly because she always got the feeling he was checking her out.
Lupin was also happy about Snape's absence. "Looks like someone finally got the hint," he murmured to McGonagall.
She giggled. Poor Snape! He was such an unpleasant man, and yet, she did feel sorry for him. 'But,' McGonagall reminded herself harshly, 'Severus Snape is a former Death Eater.' No matter what he made of his life now, the past would never change. At one point in time, Severus Snape had chosen to ally himself with Lord Voldemort. In McGonagall's eyes, that was unforgivable, and so, she could never let herself feel too sorry for him. Plus, he exposed Remus Lupin’s identity as a werewolf. That alone was reason enough to deny Snape any pity.
Dumbledore decided not to use sign language anymore, the novelty having worn off. 'But it was fun while it lasted,' he thought. Dumbledore rarely passed up an opportunity to indulge his whims. And his dreams. And he mustn't forget his fantasies. Oh, and that crazy balloon popping fetish... He couldn't deny himself that one...
The Headmaster lost his train of thought. Where was he? Ah, yes--the Great Hall. What a lovely place. Whose idea was it to enchant the ceiling into looking like the sky above? Pure genius!
Dumbledore at last arose, his snowy white beard reaching down to the tabletop. He smiled and said, "Good afternoon, all. We're having chicken cordon bleu for our first course, followed by a delightful Chinese vegetable dish. And for dessert, we will have tomato soup cake." The Headmaster sat down and clapped his hands, and the first course materialized upon their waiting platters.
Hermione nibbled her chicken distractedly, wondering where Draco was. 'Oh, dear. I hope he's not avoiding me,' she thought.
Ginny and Elizabeth were giggling with each other. Harry looked up sharply; there was an odd yearning in his chest. What were they talking about? And why did those two French braids make Ginny look so cute?
Ron muttered something to Harry. His mouth was full of bamboo shoots, and Harry only heard the name 'Snape.'
"What was that?" asked Harry.
"I said, I'm going to give him shampoo for Christmas, since he's obviously taken a liking to it," said Ron. "Who do you have for Secret Santa?"
Harry sighed. "Ginny."
Ron laughed. "Now she's really going to have a crush on you."
"Oh, well," said Harry resignedly. "I can't think of anything. Maybe I'll just copy Malfoy's idea and give her some chocolates."
"Are you kidding? She'll love you forever," said Ron.
"She already does," said Harry.
Ron cleaned his plate and prodded the tomato soup cake with his fork. "We'll have to put Operation Ferret on hold for now," he said glumly. This was the name they had assigned to the act of spying on Draco Malfoy, in honor of the time a former teacher had temporarily transfigured the poor Slytherin into a ferret.
"And why is that?" asked Harry.
"He's not here," muttered Ron. "Take a look around, will you?"
"Oh, yeah," said Harry. "Maybe he went home."
Ron scoffed. "Wouldn't that be too good to be true?"
***
The next few hours passed without much excitement. The boys spent a good chunk of time loitering in a hallway on the second floor. Marvin--the sixth year student--displayed his predilection for pyromania by teaching Harry, Ron, and Jessup how to set their socks on fire without burning themselves. This didn't destroy the clothing; it merely attacked lint fuzzies and sent an orange flame shooting along the surface of their socks. Then they spent the remainder of the afternoon setting fire to anything that was cheap and cotton. I really don't know why boys choose to amuse themselves in such strange ways, but they do. That’s the truth, and I write the truth.
The dinner gong was struck at quarter to six, and the boys hurried down the stairs. As Harry trailed along, he looked out the window for signs of Malfoy. Where was that Slytherin?
Then he saw something that made him stop in his tracks, causing Ron to nearly bump into him. "It's Malfoy! Look!" shouted Harry, pointing out the figure that dotted the snowy landscape.
"And Snape!" shouted Ron.
They were right: Far off on the grounds, Professor Snape and Draco Malfoy were marching across the field toward the castle.
Harry saw that Malfoy was carrying a large object, and he commented, –It looks like they’re bringing something back with them."
"What? We need to see Dumbledore immediately!" exclaimed Ron.
"Over such a little thing?" said Harry.
"It might be a big thing," insisted Ron. "We are talking about Snape."
"You're right," said Harry. He finally pried his eyes away from the figures outside, and they reported to Dumbledore with the news.
***
Dumbledore was sitting at the head of the table calmly sipping his tea when his thoughts were interrupted by two noisy Gryffindors.
"It's Professor Snape!" cried Harry.
"In the courtyard!" yelled Ron.
"With a box!" said Harry.
Dumbledore murmured, "Professor Snape in the courtyard with a box. Hmmm... I may have missed something, for I have no idea what you're talking about."
"We saw him outside," announced Harry. "And Malfoy too. They were carrying a large crate."
"We don't know what's inside of it," said Ron, shaking his head in awe.
"Do you think it has to do with Lord Voldemort?" asked Harry.
After a suspenseful pause, Dumbledore laughed. "Oh, don't be silly. You can relax. That box has nothing to do with Voldemort. Professor Snape and Malfoy just went to Hogsmeade this afternoon to buy some Potions ingredients. I'm sure that's all you'd find in the box--simply ingredients for your Potions class."
"Oh," said Harry, feeling embarrassed.
Ron was still suspicious. He said, "But maybe we should check it out, just in case."
Dumbledore shook his head slowly. "There's no need to go to those measures. I trust Professor Snape." 'After all,' thought the Headmaster, 'it's been a very long time since he's done anything worth getting sent to Azkaban for.'
Dumbledore sent the boys off with a wave of his hands and took another sip of tea. Oh, drat. It was cold now. Where were those house-elves when you needed them?
***
Severus Snape and Draco Malfoy made it inside the castle without encountering any impediments along the way, and they were now trying to find a cage for the Runespoor in the potion teacher’s office. "It should still be in here," Professor Snape murmured as he advanced toward a musty smelling closet.
He opened the door and used the wingardium leviosa incantation to bring out a bulky, glass aquarium. Draco raised his eyebrows. "Someone's going to notice that, professor," he said.
"I'll need to put more hexes on my lock then, won't I?" said Snape.
Draco nodded as Snape floated the aquarium onto the large table which he had cleared off earlier.
Avril could be heard hissing from her cramped compartment. "Don't worry," Snape crooned to her. "We'll have you a nice new home very soon, darling."
Draco bit his tongue. "Should I run down to Sprout's garden and get some dirt?" he offered.
"I was just going to tell you to do that. Here's a bag. Take all the dirt that can fit--er, that you can carry."
Draco narrowed his eyebrows, resenting the insinuation behind his professor’s remark. So he wasn’t as bulky as some of the other boys his age, but he was wiry, damn it. He was very strong for his size. And he could certainly carry a forty pound bag of dirt!
Snape went on, "Also, bring back some plants and insects. We want Avril to feel at home. She came all the way from Burkina Faso."
Draco nodded and slipped away to Sprout's garden, sincerely doubting that he would find any plants or insects native to Burkina Faso there.
***
Dumbledore began the evening's feast without Snape and Malfoy. 'They'll be here any second,' thought the Headmaster, nervously smoothing out his beard.
........................to be continued