Author: cathedral carver
Recipient: Karasu Hime
Title: When I Cursed the Teacher
Rating: K
Warnings: Deathly Hallows spoilers; Deathly Hallows disregarded.
Summary: The gods' most savage curses come upon us as answers to our own prayers, you know.

Original Prompt: Snape starts to court Hermione. Convinced that he's under some sort of curse, Hermione enlists Bill Weasley's help.

Written for the 2010 SS/HG Fic Exchange. Thank you, as ever, to my lovely beta CSINut214.

XX

May those who love us love us.
And those that don't love us,
May God turn their hearts,
And if He doesn't turn their hearts,
May he turn their ankles,
So we'll know them by their limping.

Old Irish Curse

XX

It started with a bang.

Several bangs, in fact, followed by the unmistakable crash of falling stones, fairly large pieces, by the sound of it, followed by some startled screams, belligerent shouts, more screams, and then bellowed curse words, the likes of which cannot be repeated at this time.

There was a lot of dust, from the fallen chunks of stone, and an array of colourful sparks from the wands. But above all, it was just incredibly noisy, especially for a usually calm and quiet Tuesday afternoon.

It was all so deafening, in fact, that students who had spent their lives hearing tales of the Great Battle, and professors who had lived through it themselves, burst into the hallways, panicked, wild-eyed, searching for any sign of errant Death Eaters or perhaps the ghost of Voldemort himself, tearing the place apart.

What they found instead was the start of yet another Hogwarts legend.

XX

News item from The Daily Prophet, May 26, 2004:

"Dueling Wizards Destroy Hogwarts' Entrance Hall."

Six years after the now-legendary Battle of Hogwarts, two feuding wizards have managed to virtually destroy the Entrance Hall of the 1,000-year-old school for young witches and wizards.

On May 25, it is alleged that the Hogwarts Potions Professor, Severus Snape, and Gringott's Curse Breaker, Bill Weasley, engaged in dangerous and destructive wand warfare the likes of which hasn't been seen inside the castle walls since that fateful night six years ago.

"It was the most exciting thing I've seen all year!" affirms Norris Nesbitt, a first-year whose mother works at the Improper Use of Magic Office, and is currently pressing formal charges against the school. [See: A Mother's Nightmare: My Son Lived to Tell the Tale, pg. 12]. "I'm so happy my parents sent me here!"

"There was a lot of noise!" says one excited youngster who ran away before she could be named. "We thought [name omitted] had blown up the Potions lab again, but it was just Professor Snape screaming and throwing hexes. We all ran to see which student he was harassing this time. Turns out it wasn't a student at all!"

The entire incident lasted approximately 15 minutes, but managed to create enough havoc to force the Ministry of Magic's involvement. An inquest has been organized, and will take place early next month. If charges are laid, both men could face fines and jail time.

While the students were understandably impressed by the incident, others were left enraged and dismayed.

"Not a very good impression to set for young, moldable minds, that's all I can say!" says longtime Librarian Irma Pince. "And to have one of our own involved! And a member of a respectable wizarding family! I never thought I'd live to see the day. And rumour has it they were fighting over none other than—"

Story continues on pg. 4.

XX

Hermione Granger noticed the flowers before she even set foot in the Hall. She could see them from the doorway: pink Honeysuckle, she guessed; their sweet scent was unmistakable. The Head Table was always well appointed, but there were never flowers, and now there was a vase of them in front of her plate, and hers alone. She looked around a bit nervously, hoping her face wasn't too red, slipped into her chair and began to butter her toast with trembling fingers.

"Happy Birthday," said Luna Lovegood serenely from her left. She had arranged her scrambled eggs into the shape of a smiling face and was now fashioning "hair" with bacon rashers.

"Thank you, but it's not my birthday." Hermione swallowed her toast with some difficulty. "Are these from you?" she asked politely.

"Oh no. They were here before I arrived. Perhaps they're from a student?"

"Or a secret admirer," said Severus Snape, on Hermione's right. He was eating his eggs at a rather alarming pace, his considerable nose almost touching the rim of the plate.

"Pardon?"

He straightened up and pressed a napkin to his mouth.

"Secret Admirer," he said louder, still not looking at her.

"Yes. That's what I thought you said."

"Tea, Hermione?" said Luna, pouring into her cup as Hermione nodded absently, and turned back to Snape.

"Severus, did you happen to see who—"

"Good day, ladies," he said, nodding curtly before standing and sweeping blackly from the Hall.

"Now there's a man who knows how to make an exit," said Luna around a mouthful of happy eggs. "Neville could take some lessons from him."

XX

Interview #1, Inquest into the "Hogwarts Happening," conducted by Percy Weasley, Department of Magical Law Enforcement, June 3, 2004.

Percy Weasley: In accordance with the Ministry Inquest Decree #214, I, Percy Weasley, Head Inquisitor, will be conducting, over the next two weeks, approximately 40 interviews with both witnesses and participants of the so-called "Hogwarts Happening" of May 25. [Clears throat] Let it be known that we are seated in unoccupied classroom 11 on the main floor of the school. Present with me is one Argus Filch.

Good morning, sir. Can you please state your name and occupation for the record?

Argus Filch: What record?

PW: Please, your name and occupation.

AF: You know my name. You know what I do.

PW: Please—

AF: What is that thing?

PW: A microphone.

AF: A what?

PW: A Muggle recording device. It will record the conversation we're about to have.

AF: Why?

PW: For other Ministry officials to hear at a later date.

AF: Oh, I don't think so. I don't like the looks of that thing—

PW: Don't touch it! Don't—[Unintelligible]

AF: Suspicious-looking thing, that.

PW: Please, just leave it there. Now, Mr. Filch, in regards to the event of May 25, now recognized as the "Hogwarts Happening," I understand you were one of the first witnesses on the scene. Can you describe what you saw?

AF: What I saw was a gigantic bloody mess! Dust and rubble everywhere, sparks flying, people yelling— [Unintelligible]

PW: Mr. Filch, you'll have to speak into the microphone, or we won't be able to hear you.

AF: You can hear me just fine! I'm sitting across the table from you!

PW: Mr. Filch, please tell me what Professor Snape and Bill Weasley were doing when you arrived on the scene.

AF: They were trying to kill each other! And destroy the school in the process!

PW: Can you be more specific?

AF: How much more specific do you want? When they were done with the wands, they started using their fists and Professor Snape was, well, he was sitting atop Mr. Weasley, who's rather weak, if you ask me. Pretty weak. [pause] He's your brother, isn't he?

PW: Were the students endangered at any time, Mr. Filch?

AF: The students? You mean the ones gathered around yelling and cheering? What do you think, you daft twit? Curses flying, rocks falling every which way…I just want to know who's going to clean up the bloody mess, that's all I want to—[Unintelligible]

XX

She'd never gotten used to the teaching robes.

She'd also never abandoned the habit of toting at least 30 pounds of textbooks with her wherever she went, and that unwieldy weight combined with robes that tended to flap around her ankles and catch in the backs of her shoes, made for a very precarious combination at the best of times.

Today she was wandering the second-floor hallway, book bag slung over her left shoulder, a copy of The Modern Witch's Book of Spells, open in her right hand, reading as she wandered and occasionally looking up to acknowledge a friendly student or dodge a wayward one. She simply forgot about the stairs, and Hogwarts was chock full of them.

Tripping up stairs takes special talent and Hermione excelled at special talents. She made it up the first step without incident, but the second proved trickier and combined with the robes, the books, well: she lurched forward ungracefully and landed on her face, arms otherwise preoccupied with holding books, which went flying everywhere; she even managed to twist her ankle in the process.

"First day with your new feet, Professor Granger?" she heard someone yell, and then someone else yelled:

"Detention, Barker. My classroom. Now."

She knew that voice: she'd been yelled at enough by it in the past.

Snape knelt in front of her, cloak billowing down gently behind him, hands on her hands, eyes on her face.

"Where are you hurt?"

The intensity with which he was watching her, waiting for her answer, caught her so off guard she couldn't speak for a moment. She was very aware of his skin pressed against her skin, his fingers wrapped around her fingers. He wasn't letting go; in fact, he was holding on tighter.

She swallowed.

"I'm fine, thank you. Really. Just…clumsy." She tried to stand with his assistance, then fell once more. He caught her under the elbow, her weight resting fully against him.

"Sit," he ordered, and lowered her gently onto the bottom step. "Which ankle?"

She stretched it out, pale and bare, and he stared at it for a second before taking hold. His hands were large and long-fingered, and probed her ankle with skill and finesse. The skin he touched felt like it was on fire.

"Here," he said, pressing lightly. "You've sprained it."

"This is really embarrassing—" she muttered, but he appeared not to have heard. "I'll just go see Poppy—"

"Of course," he agreed. Then he scooped her up and carried her to the Hospital Wing.

Ohmyohmyohmy. This was the only coherent thought in her head as he walked, her head bouncing lightly against his chest. She was overly aware of his hands, one cupping the backs of her knees, the other curled around her upper arm, and of his heart, of all things, beating beating against her ear.

Ohmyohmyoh—

It took both an eternity and a nanosecond to reach the Infirmary, where he laid her on the nearest vacant bed and hovered just behind Poppy as she clucked and fussed and cast curious glances at the pair of them.

"Well, it's definitely turned," she said, moving her wand over Hermione's ankle, which was now swollen and the colour of a ripe plum. Hermione sighed. "You were right to bring her here," she said.

"Thank you, Severus," Hermione added. "It was very kind of—"

But he was already turning and swooping out without a word or a backwards glance.

"Can't he ever leave a room like a normal person?" Poppy muttered as she focused on Hermione's injury.

Later, much later, Hermione realized Snape could have just used Mobilicorpus to transport her, but ohmyohmyoh—, she was inordinately glad he hadn't.

XX

News item from The Quibbler, May 27, 2004:

"Love Triangle at Heart of Hogwarts' Havoc?"

Reliable sources claim the two wizards involved in this week's fracas at Hogwarts were fighting over none other than a woman.

"It's true, they was arguing about a girl," affirms a fifth-year Gryffindor who refuses to be named. "We all heard Professor Snape yell Professor Granger's name several times while he was trying to kill Bill Weasley. And she was standing right there, urging him on. They're obviously in love. It's all so romantic."

While non-platonic relationships between teachers are not prohibited at the school, they are certainly not encouraged, either. Headmistress McGonagall, who refused repeated requests for an interview, has stated in the past that any teachers found in compromising positions will be immediately terminated.

"The course of true love never did run smooth," says Arithmancy Professor Luna Lovegood. "I think it's just lovely that they're getting their feelings out in the open like this. They're both such nice people, and rather lonely if you ask me. I think it's about time they realized how they feel about one another."

However, not everyone shares Professor Lovegood's sentiments.

"It's disgusting," says seventh-year Slytherin Prefect Lucy Butterworth. "We've known for awhile she fancies him. It's so obvious the way she moons about, but for the life of me I can't figure out why he'd be interested in her. He's such a hunk, so dark and dangerous, and the way he was trying to kill the Weasley bloke—"

See "When Women Love Men Who Love Their Wands Too Much," pg. 12.

XX

It was small and delicate, definitely crystal, filled with a light violet liquid, and sitting on her desk Monday morning. She looked around the empty classroom, unstoppered it gingerly and took a small, delicate whiff. Immediately her senses reeled: she felt tingly, hot and cold at the same time. She saw flowers and books, wide sweeping lawns and—

"Is it to your liking?"

"It's…perfect." She breathed in the heady scent, eyes closed, face relaxing.

Then her eyes snapped open, but Snape had already arranged his expression into one resembling bland indifference.

"Of course it is. I brewed it myself."

"It's…perfume?"

"It is."

She smiled.

"Thank you. But…why?"

"I thought you'd like it."

"I do, very much." She paused, suddenly horrified. "Are you trying to tell me something?" she asked, sniffing in the direction of her armpits. Snape rolled his eyes.

"The only thing I'm trying to tell you, Professor, is that…" He stopped and cleared his throat.

"What?"

"Would you like to…" He took a very deep breath, then spoke quickly without exhaling: "Gooutwithmeonadate."

Silence.

"Pardon?"

Snape sighed and loosened his jaw infinitesimally. "I said, perhaps you'd like to go on a d— outing of some sort? We could start simply…with dinner, perhaps?"

Hermione gaped.

"You put the flowers at my plate!" she said.

He stared at her.

"Well…yes. I did. I thought I'd made that clear already." He waited, a tad impatiently. "Is that your answer?"

"Severus…"

"Professor Granger?" A small girl hovered in the doorway, clearly terrified to find Snape in the presence of her favourite teacher. Hermione blinked.

"Yes, Faith?"

"I was just wondering if you could help me with my Avis charms…for the final examinations?"

"Of course, yes. I'll…I'll be with you in just—" She turned back to Snape, but he was already flapping out the door, all but knocking little Faith to the floor.

XX

Interview #13, Inquest into the "Hogwarts Happening," conducted by Percy Weasley, Department of Magical Law Enforcement, June 6, 2004.

Percy Weasley: I'd like to state, for the record, that Headmistress McGonagall is almost 30 minutes late for her scheduled interview slot, which was set for her more than two weeks ago—

Minerva McGonagall: And I'd like to state, for the record, that this so-called Inquest is a colossal waste of both time and money!

PW: Are you saying the Ministry has made a mistake?

MM: I'm saying exactly what I just said: There is absolutely no need for this disruption to both school routine and professors' personal lives! The "Happening" of which you speak has been dealt with internally. You are wasting your time, and, more importantly, mine.

PW: For the record, please note that Headmistress Minerva is acting as a hostile witness.

MM: I'm not a witness, Mr. Weasley, but I'm certainly hostile. I didn't witness any events that day and I'm not qualified to comment on anything that took place, alleged or otherwise.

PW: You say you have dealt with this issue internally. What, exactly, have you done?

MM: That's none of your business!

PW: How would you describe Severus Snape's personality? Does he usually go around hexing unsuspecting wizards within the school grounds?

MM: Of course not! Severus is a long-standing, respectable teacher at this school. This is nothing short of a wizard hunt!

PW: Do you condone relationships between your teachers?

MM: I have nothing more to say on the matter!

PW: For the record, Headmistress McGonagall has thrown a Furnunculus hex in my direction — lucky for her she missed — and has now left the room. [Slam] And slammed the door.

XX

"Perfume?" Luna said, turning the bottle in her hands. "That's nice. And flowers. I rather figured it was Severus. That's very nice."

"Yes, it's nice, Luna, but it's weird, don't you think? Why on earth would Severus give me perfume and flowers?"

And carry me to the Hospital Wing. And stare at me. And talk to me. And listen to me. Attentively. And ask me out—

"Because he's enigmatic. And he fancies you. Wish Neville would give me perfume and flowers once in awhile. Last week he left Skunk Cabbage in my room. Couldn't get the smell out for days—"

"I think he's losing his mind. Either that …either that or he's been…"

Hermione jumped up from her bed, eyes bright and blazing.

"What?"

"Cursed." She clapped her hands together. She narrowed her eyes. "He's been cursed. Of course! Why didn't I see it before?"

"Really?" Luna looked interested.

"It has to be! It explains everything! His odd behaviour, and the fact that he can't…well…can't seem to stay away from me…" She trailed off, her face red. Luna watched her calmly, head tilted slightly. "Maybe it's a Love Potion! Or, he's been Confunded. Of course. Maybe…maybe it's not even him! Gads!" She slapped her hands over her mouth, horrified. "Polyjuice potion! Luna! It has to be!"

"Don't you think someone would have noticed? The Headmistress?"

"Did anyone notice when Barty Crouch impersonated Mad-Eye for an entire year? It's completely possible! And Love Potions are exceedingly simple to concoct — a clever first-year could brew one up. Some student has done this as a trick on the two of us! Listen: He asked me out on a date the other day. I was going to say no, but now I see I must accept! I must get closer to him, to investigate. It's the only way."

"I think that's a wonderful idea! I'll help you pick out a dress—"

"Maybe he's seriously ill," Hermione cut her off, hands pulling at her cheeks in horror. "The poor man! Maybe his brain is being destroyed by an Imperius Curse gone wrong!"

"Yes. Maybe," Luna nodded, smiling. "Or maybe he just likes you."

"Oh, don't be daft, Luna. Severus doesn't like anyone."

XX

News item from The The Daily Prophet, May 30, 2004:

"Ministry Inquest Set to Start."

Two well-known and respected figures are now facing serious charges in the "Hogwarts Happening" that destroyed a significant portion of the school on May 25.

"In all my years of dealing with wayward wizards, I have never encountered such a flagrant misuse of magical power, and certainly never within a school setting," says Percy Weasley, who will head up the Inquest. "I'm determined to get to the heart of this disgusting display of recklessness, and make sure severe punishments are handed down. You could say it's my personal mission."

Hogwarts, meanwhile, is in the midst of substantial repairs.

"I hope they both get sent to Azkaban!" says the school caretaker Argus Filch, referring to Severus Snape and Bill Weasley, who were at the heart of the incident. "Disgusting, that's what it is! Never seen the likes of it. The mess! Going to take weeks to clean it all up."

Despite being related to one of the main suspects, Percy Weasley has vowed to remain impartial throughout the Inquest, which is expected to last at least two weeks—

See: Domestic Dilemma: Percy Weasley Avenges Magical Misuse, Despite Family Connection, pg. 5.

XX

"I'm pleased you decided to accept, Hermione," Snape said as they strolled the winding, moon-shadowed path to Hogsmeade the following evening. "What made you change your mind?"

"Well, I think it's…nice to get out with fellow teachers, you know? We work together. I think it's fine to get to know one another on a …different level as well." She clapped a hand over her coat pocket, which was clinking lightly as three different tiny bottles bumped against one another: Veritaserum, Diligo Subsisto, to negate the effects of a Love Potion, and Felix Felicis, because Merlin knew she'd need a little luck.

He held the door of the Three Broomsticks open for her, and pulled her chair out at the table. Hermione's hands were trembling and she clenched them in her lap as Snape ordered a bottle of Elderflower wine for them.

Which one first? she wondered, fingering the bottles with slippery fingers. I need luck, definitely, but maybe I can solve this without simple ingenuity.

Veritaserum. Of course. She smiled beguilingly at Snape, then knocked her fork to the ground with her elbow. When he gallantly ducked to pick it up for her, she tipped the contents of the smallest bottle into his glass.

He handed her the fork, his fingers lingering against hers before letting go. She felt heat rising rapidly in her chest, up her neck. She swallowed with difficulty, then coughed.

"What is it?" he said.

"You're not acting…yourself," she said.

"I believe," he said, taking a small sip of his wine, "that's exactly the point."

"The point? The point of what?"

"The point of a date." Another sip, and another. "To let your guard down a bit. To get to know the other person a bit better."

Another sip. And another.

Now or never, she thought.

She leaned in towards him in what she hoped was a seductive manner. "Who are you, really?" she whispered. He smiled a little and leaned in to meet her. Their foreheads were almost touching.

"Someone who finds you most interesting." He paused, as if gathering his courage. "But, I've always found you interesting. Even as a student, an older student, I mean. Much older. But you were interesting when you were 11, as well, but not in a, well, interesting way. Intellectually, I would say, yes. Stimulating. But not romantically! Except for now. Now you're more stimulating. Both intellectually and—"

He stopped, shocked. "I have no idea why I just told you all that." He blushed — or she thought he did — and gulped the rest of his wine. "I probably shouldn't be drinking."

Hermione blinked back sudden, hot tears and shook her head. "No. It's not you." She sniffled. "I'm sorry."

"For what?"

She looked at him then, really looked, stared into his eyes — very beautiful eyes, she noticed, not at all black as she'd always thought, but sort of a swirling deep brown, the colour of warm coffee — and wondered, not for the first time, what he was thinking. Perhaps, perhaps—

She pushed, pushed past the softening effects of the alcohol and the Veritaserum, into a swirl of colourful images; she saw herself there, briefly, falling up the stairs, felt the panic of his heart as he ran to her; saw her breathing in the perfume, and his eyes hooded with something like—

It all went black.

"Hermione," he said suddenly, his hand on hers, his fingers curled into her wrist. She shook her head slowly, as if waking from a deep sleep and focused. He was staring at her, watching her with a somewhat bemused expression.

"What?"

"Have you forgotten that I'm vastly skilled in the area of Occlumency?"

Dammit. She had, in fact.

"I'm not sure what you mean," she mumbled and gulped the remainder of her drink.

They consumed their meal in between snippets of small talk, mild gossip about teachers and students, then walked the path back, their arms brushing against one another from time to time as Snape pointed out various plants by the roadside and their infinitely fascinating uses. Outside the main entrance they stopped, not sure where to look anymore. Hermione jammed her hands in her pockets, to hide their trembling.

"Hermione—" he said suddenly, leaning towards her. In a panic she pulled one hand free and a small bottle fell to the ground, glinting in the moonlight. Snape scooped it up.

"What is this?" he asked, holding the vial up to the light. His eyebrow quirked. "Ah. Diligo Subsisto."

"I can explain—"

"Ingesting this particular potion when one hasn't taken a Love Potion can lead to most disastrous results," he said.

"Really?" Her eyes widened.

"Really." He looked at her. "Especially when one hasn't ingested a Love Potion in the first place."

"Ah." Hermione shuffled her feet. "That's interesting."

"Quite."

"Well…good, then."

"Lucky you didn't pour this into my wine earlier."

"Yes. Right. Ha ha."

She knew then, without a doubt, that he was going to kiss her. Maybe it was the moonlight, and maybe it was just the fact that she desperately wanted to kiss him, too, the real Snape or not, she didn't care. She felt his hands on either side of her face, felt his breath blow lightly across her cheek as he leaned down, as she leaned against the rough castle wall, edges and crevices pressing into her back.

He kissed her.

It was glorious.

Wait a minute, she thought. There's some reason I shouldn't be doing this. A very good reason. What is it? Oh yes.

With great reluctance she pulled back.

"Severus," she said breathily, for breathing was quite difficult at the moment.

He said nothing, only attempted to catch his own breath.

"You do realize, don't you, that…uh…Ron and I have…well, we've made a—"

"Huge mistake?"

"A commitment!" she snapped. "We have an understanding, and that understanding is understood by both of us. We…will be married. At some point."

Snape waved a dismissive hand.

"Yes, yes."

"Severus…" she tried again. "I am touched…truly that you think of me in that way, but…uh…I'm quite sure you're not in your right…uh…and Ron—"

"And when was the last time Weasley gave you flowers, might I ask? Or perfume? Or showed you any kind of romantic attention? Talked to you? Asked about your day?"

Never, she thought.

"Ron is very busy, I'll have you know. He's been made general manager of Weasley's Wizard Wheezes and shoulders a huge amount of responsibility. He still manages to meet me here once a week for lunch in the Great Hall, and his table manners have improved vastly—"

She'd never heard Snape laugh out loud before. It was spectacularly shocking. And spectacularly lovely. Her knees buckled.

"Don't laugh!" she said before she realized she meant quite the opposite: She was pretty much willing to do anything to hear the blessed sound again.

Snape sighed.

"Hermione. School term is almost over for the year. What are your plans for the summer?"

Hermione blinked.

"I'm going to Hungary for two weeks for research, spending a few weeks with my parents and a month at the Burrow."

"Exactly. You are going away. You are leaving and I don't—"

"What?"

He paused. "I don't want to waste any more time."

He leaned down then, and his lips brushed against her cheek, light as a whisper.

"I should very much like to do this again. Soon."

Hermione watched him walk away, watched him melt into the night's softest shadows.

Her pulse was still racing.

Clearly, she was ill equipped to deal with whatever Curse had been placed on the man.

Clearly, she required help.

Of a professional variety.

XX

Interview #24, Inquest into the "Hogwarts Happening," conducted by Percy Weasley, Department of Magical Law Enforcement, June 10, 2004.

Percy Weasley: I have only one question for you, Professor. Why?

[Silence]

PW: Professor? Professor. Need I remind you that if you do not answer, I will be forced to call on higher authorities?

[Silence]

PW: Professor Snape. Why?

Severus Snape: Why…what?

PW: Why did you attack my— Bill Weasley on the 25th of May inside the Hogwarts grounds?

SS: It was not an unprovoked attack, you prat.

PW: Please explain, then, in your own words, what transpired.

SS: The fool was trying to un-Curse me.

PW: Sounds like a reasonable mission. This is his job, after all.

SS: Then he's not very good at his job, is he, because I wasn't under any Curse at the time.

PW: How does one know if one is Cursed or not?

SS: How much longer must this charade go on?

PW: The records show that you had declared an "interest" in Professor Hermione Granger.

SS: What records?

PW: They're verbal. Reliable sources. Do you deny it?

SS: I neither admit nor deny anything.

PW: For the record, note that the witness is hostile.

SS: How can I be anything but?

PW: Is Hermione Granger not some 17 years younger than yourself?

SS: I suppose—

PW: And a teacher at Hogwarts?

SS: Yes—

PW: And a former student of yours?

SS: Yes, but—

PW: And you don't find your sudden interest in her…worthy of investigation from concerned parties?

SS: This is ludicrous! I refuse to partake in this idiotic, pointless—

PW: Let the records show the interviewee is hostile.

SS: I believe you said that already.

PW: It's still true.

SS: Indeed it is. And I don't foresee a change anytime soon.

PW: Back to the question at hand—

SS: Have you ever been in love, Weasley?

PW: I fail to see how that has any bearing—

SS: Have you ever dreamed of a certain someone, wishing nothing more than to hear her voice, see her face, make her laugh? Have you ever cared about someone else enough to risk your life for her? Have you ever known, without a shadow of a doubt, that you and she are meant to be together, no matter the odds, no matter who approves or disapproves and that you will do anything, anything to be with her?

PW: I don't have to answer that—[Unintelligible]

SS: I can see the answer to my question is a resounding "no."

PW: This interview is now concluded!

XX

Most weekends she spent at The Burrow, welcoming both the reprieve from the school routine, and the chance to relax with Ron, away from the pressures of their respective jobs.

"You look tired, dear," Molly said, releasing her from a tight hug and peering into her face. "Are they working you too hard?"

"No more than usual," Hermione smiled.

"Hermione!" Ron bellowed from the doorway. He loped down the front walk, and swept her up in a clumsy embrace, thumping her on the back several times. She hugged him back, trying not to compare his rangy frame with Snape's; trying very hard not compare the smell of Peruvian Darkness Powder that clung to him, with that of sneezewort and ginger root, which she found infinitely preferable.

"Come in, come in," Molly said, ushering them inside. Hermione dropped her bag at the door and headed for the nearest chair.

"No! Here! Sit here!" Ron ordered, guiding her to a particularly comfortable looking chair in the corner.

"Ron—" Molly started, but Hermione was already lowering herself gratefully.

The yelping sounds of a wounded Dugbog immediately filled the room. Hermione jumped and grabbed for her wand.

Ron burst into gales of laughter, tears streaming down his now reddened face.

"Oh…Hermione," he gasped when he could draw air again. "You should…should have seen your face!"

Hermione looked down at the seat, removed the now-flat, puce-coloured, pancake-shaped device from beneath her behind. She sighed.

"New invention?"

"A Panic Pillow. Just came in yesterday. Isn't it great?"

"Marvelous." She tossed it on the couch across from her, trying to look suitably impressed.

"Wooing your girlfriend, again, Ron?" said a familiar voice.

"Bill!" exclaimed Hermione, turning in surprise. "What are you doing here?"

"Conference at Gringott's headquarters. Just here for the week." He smiled and seated himself far away from the Panic Pillow. "Stopping by Hogwarts, too. McGonagall's suggested that I teach a course in Curse Breaking at the school, starting next year."

Bill. Curse Breaking.

How could she have forgotten? How? Her hands started to twitch.

"Right," she said slowly. "That would be a really helpful course."

"Really?" Bill beamed. "I've always thought so, of course, but—"

"How is everyone at Hogwarts, Hermione?" Molly cut in as she bustled in with a tray of tea and biscuits.

"Fine. Everyone's…great." Hermione smiled tightly and grabbed some tea.

"Who's guiding the young, impressionable minds this year?" Bill asked.

"Well, Luna and Neville…Severus." Funny how her voice caught on that one name every time she said it.

"Snape! I forgot that he was back," Bill grinned. "Still as miserable as ever?"

"No, not at all," Hermione said before she caught herself. "He's…different now."

"Different?" Ron snorted, spraying bits of biscuit onto his shirtfront. Molly tsked.

"Actually, I've been a bit…worried about him of late. He's…well…"

"Incurably diseased?" Ron leaned forward eagerly.

"It's hard to describe. He's not…himself." She knew she wasn't making any sense, and she was suddenly, dreadfully aware that her face was going all red, so she stopped.

"But, that's a good thing, right?" Ron said, laughing.

"Ronald," Molly said, frowning.

"Actually, I was hoping to speak to you about it—" Hermione said, leaning closer to Bill. "I had a few questions."

"About Snape?" Bill's eyebrows shot up. "Really?"

"Yes—"

But the questions would have to wait. There were walks to take, and conversations to have — well, one-sided conversations, anyway, that involved listening to Ron go on and on and on about the store, the crazy customer he had last week, the new batch of gimmicks George was working furiously on. She didn't get a chance to speak to Bill again until Sunday evening, after the meal, just before she was scheduled to leave.

"Now tell me," Bill said seriously, when he was sure they were alone in the front room. He leaned forward, balancing his tea on his knee. "What's old Snape done to get you in such a dither?"

"Well, nothing, really," Hermione lied, hoping the dim light hid the flush of her cheeks. "He's just been…off."

"Afraid you'll have to be a bit more detailed."

"He's…I mean. It's as if…he's been courting me."

Bill spat up his mouthful of tea. Hermione waited until his airways were clear.

"How so?" he croaked.

"Flowers. Perfume." She coughed. "A date."

Bill laughed, harsh, disbelieving. When Hermione didn't smile, his jaw dropped slightly.

"You…went on a date with the man?"

"Shh!" Hermione frowned, shushing him. "Not so loud! I did it purely out of concern and professional curiosity. Plus, I slipped him some Veritaserum."

"Really?" Bill smirked. "And what did you find out?"

"Nothing! I found out nothing. I mean…he seems of sound mind…and he didn't reveal anything alarming—"

"He asked you on a date, Hermione. I, for one, find that a bit alarming!"

"Well—"

"He's aware of your relationship with Ron, isn't he?" he said a bit suspiciously.

"Of course he is!" Hermione huffed. "That's why I'm worried. Is it possible…could he have been," she leaned even closer and whispered, "Cursed?"

"Well, I suppose. I mean, I've encountered numerous Curses in my work that could make Snape act…in this curious manner. The Plurimus Horrendus Curse," — he shuddered — "and can't forget the Pilosus Pes Curse," Bill's eyes were taking on a preternatural glow that made Hermione a little uneasy. He focused on her again. "Have you talked to anyone else about this?"

"No. I wouldn't know who. And I don't want to, you know, get him into any trouble. I just…" She paused, then continued in a rush. "I mean, I do care about him, of course, professionally, and if there's something wrong, I want to help."

"Maybe there's something I can do. I have the next few days free, and I'm supposed to meet with McGonagall anyway." He rubbed his hands together with something resembling glee. "Yes, indeed."

"Oh. Well. I didn't want you to have to actually come, or anything," Hermione said, slightly horrified. "I just thought you could offer some advice or something."

"Well, I'd need to see him before I could make any sound judgment. These Curses are tricky things, you know. Very tricky things. I'd love to come talk to old Snape, you know," Bill winked, "man to man."

"Oh," Hermione said, panicked. "I…I don't know if that's such a great idea, really."

"Nothing to worry about, old girl," Bill said. "Breaking a Curse is bloody hard work, but you forget I'm an expert in the field."

"An expert. Right. And you could…break the Curse…if he's—?"

"Of course! There are very few I haven't come across, and I have a 98 percent success rate." Hermione didn't want to know about the other two percent.

"Is it…dangerous?" she asked faintly.

"Can be. It's not unlike a Muggle exorcism, really."

"An exorcism?" Hermione sat bolt upright. "Surely, you're joking."

Bill had a dreamy look in his eye. "Haven't performed one of those for a long time. Could be just what old Snape needs." He chuckled. Hermione didn't like the sound of it, at all.

"Listen," she said. "I may have exaggerated a bit, you know? I wouldn't worry about it, any of it."

"Don't think another thing of it," Bill said, leaning forward conspiratorially. "I'll keep it between us, don't worry. I meet with McGonagall on Tuesday morning. I'll just pop in on Snape afterwards and see what I can glean." The dreamy look was back.

"Don't put yourself out, I mean it," Hermione said. "I'm sure it's all just a big misunderstanding."

"I'm sure it is," Bill agreed, but he was gazing out the window with a small smile on his face.

"Bill?"

"Bill?"

XX

News item from The Quibbler, May 25, 2004:

"Suspect Spotted Wooing Scarlet Woman on the Sly."

Reliable sources have come forward with information suggesting Professor Severus Snape is indeed courting Professor Hermione Granger, the woman at the centre of the Hogwarts Love Triangle.

Snape, along with Bill Weasley, will be interrogated next month and many say both will receive severe punishments, up to and including possible beheadings.

In the meantime, Snape appears to be taking full advantage of his current freedom.

"They were canoodling, right out in the open at The Three Broomsticks!" says an anonymous source. "And drinking wine! And…groping one another! After their meal and a vast amount of wine, they left…together."

Bill Weasley was nowhere to be seen.

Snape, Weasley and Granger have all been — unsurprisingly — unavailable for comment.

XX

She pored over textbooks every chance she got the next day, researching every charm, hex, and curse she could find.

Confundus? Cheering Charm?

Jelly-Brain Jinx?

Who would do such a thing?

"Hermione." Luna smiled when she came across her in the Library up to her ears in books. "What are you doing?"

"Research," Hermione muttered.

"Finding anything useful?" Luna leaned in, her long, pale hair spilling across the worn pages of ancient textbooks.

"Not particularly," Hermione snapped. Her eyes stung with fatigue. "What do you—"

"Well, maybe this will help," Luna handed her a crumpled, heavily marked piece of parchment. Hermione stared dumbly. "According to my calculations, you and Severus are meant to be together. It's all quite simple. So, you can stop worrying."

"What are you on about?" Hermione frowned. She studied Luna's numbers intently, her heart pounding. A jumbled sea of black numbers swam before her eyes.

"See, here? You met on the 25th,. Originally. And the so-called Happening…on the 25th. The fifth month, correct? And here—" Hermione watched Luna's long, pale finger trace the lines, the intricate, delicate, criss-crossing lines, made with infinite care, by someone who…cared. "There are fives everywhere. And everything meets here—" Her finger came to rest on the centre of the page, where, Hermione couldn't help but smile, Luna had drawn a rather lop-sided heart.

Hermione didn't know what to say. What could she say? Her own finger traced and re-traced the same lines, the same numbers. She mumbled to herself, realized she was trying to talk herself out of the inevitable.

She wished her heart would stop pounding so.

She licked dry lips. She sighed.

It was true. All of it.

"It can't be."

"It is."

"It can't be!"

"It—"

"I'm not doubting your work, Luna, but really…this is—"

"Wonderful! It's wonderful, isn't it? Now you can stop all this silliness about curses and Polyjuice nonsense. Numbers don't lie, Hermione. Not like people, anyway."

Hermione shook her head slowly. No, numbers didn't lie, but they could be skewed. They could be tricked. And Merlin knew Severus Snape had enough powerful dark magic at his command to trick numbers into behaving a certain way. Her hands trembled as she folded Luna's paper and slid it between the pages of a well-thumbed textbook.

"Thank you, Luna, truly. I know this must have taken some time to—"

"Happy to do it," Luna said, and Hermione believed her. "Just promise me you'll wear blue to the wedding. You're supposed to. Wear blue."

The what?

"Yes," she whispered. "Of course."

Bill would get it sorted. Bill. As much as she feared the possible results, Bill was her only hope right now. Tuesday would arrive much too soon for Hermione's liking, bringing with it both Bill's visit and her weekly lunch with Ron. She didn't know which one she dreaded more.

XX

Interview #31, Inquest into the "Hogwarts Happening," conducted by Percy Weasley, Department of Magical Law Enforcement, June 15, 2004.

PW: Due to [hiccup] unforeseen [hiccup] circumstances, namely that [hiccup] someone so [hiccup] cleverly decided [hiccup] to put [hiccup] Hiccuping Solution in [hiccup] in my [hiccup] morning tea, [hiccup] [hiccup] today's interview [hiccup] with Hermione [hiccup] Granger has been cancelled [hiccup] and rescheduled.

Bloody—[hiccup]

XX

"Severus Snape!" Bill bellowed, pumping Snape's hand with enthusiasm, while peering intently into his face. Snape scowled and pulled back, looking at Bill askance. He'd been pounced upon the moment he'd emerged from the staff room. Lunch would be served in half an hour and the Entrance Hall was, for the moment, quiet and still.

"Yes?" Snape said, lip curling in distaste.

"Good to see you again!"

Snape stared.

"Just happened to be in the building, catching up with some of my old professors."

"Fine." Snape wiped his hand on his cloak. "What is it you…want?"

"Might be teaching a class on Curse Breaking next term. Just getting the details all squared away."

"Fascinating."

"Know anything about them?" Bill moved closer. Snape moved back. "Curses, that is? Anything at all? Ever known anyone who's been Cursed?"

Bill performed a complicated maneuver that involved both hands, six fingers and his left eyebrow.

"What—"

Bill waited for something that, apparently, did not happen.

"Hmm. Not the Rabidus Mens Curse, then. Interesting."

"What?"

"Hermione mentioned you've been acting…unusual of late. Know anything about that?"

"Hermione Granger?" Snape's voice rasped.

"One and the same. Mentioned you'd given her flowers. Perfume. Taken her out for dinner." Bill did a short tap dance sequence, followed by two odd twitches, and the words, "Sicco Damno Alica!"

"Merely tokens of professional friendship," Snape muttered, eyeing Bill with growing trepidation.

"Sounds a little more than friendship to me," Bill said, winking broadly. "Hmm. Not the Atrum Vir Curse, either. Interesting."

"Is it?" Snape drawled.

"Now, Ron may be a bit of a twit—"

Snape snorted.

"—at times, but he's still my baby brother, and I happen to know he cares a great deal for Hermione!"

Snape snorted. "He cares about his stomach, and which meal he's shoveling into it next, and who's going to prepare it for him."

"Stop that!" Bill snapped. "I thought Hermione was kidding when she told me what was going on, but now I see the seriousness of the situation."

"What…situation?" Snape asked, brow furrowed. "What on earth are you talking about?"

"Could be…Monasteriense Diligo…but…no. Perhaps one of the older curses…Viridis Oculus obsession Or perhaps even…Ultra Sepulchrum?"

"What are you on about? I'm not cursed, you dolt, except by my inability to choose a profession that doesn't involve children—"

"Now, this won't hurt, except maybe a little. People do tend to scream on occasion—" Bill brandished his wand then, and took several steps back.

Snape's eyes widened and he reached for his own wand, then started when he found it gone. Bill held it up, smirking.

"See what happens when your mind has been tampered with?"

"There's nothing wrong with my mind. Yours, on the other hand—"

"You think you're in love with Hermione Granger! Are you telling me you consider that normal, rational thought?"

"Who said anything about—?" Snape choked. "And why do you need to know, anyway?"

"It's my job to know!"

"You work for a bloody bank! How are my private affairs any—"

"I'm warning you, Snape. I've never been fond of you, granted, but I don't want to hurt you, either, unless you force my hand—"

This time Snape's laughter was long and loud. "You, hurt me?"

The laughter stopped swiftly enough when Bill pointed his wand surely and steadily at Snape's chest. Snape expelled a long breath and narrowed his eyes to an absolute glare.

And that's when Hermione turned the corner and came upon them.

XX

Interview #31, Inquest into the "Hogwarts Happening," conducted by Percy Weasley, Department of Magical Law Enforcement, June 16, 2004.

Percy Weasley: Let's get right to the point: Are you, or are you not — and I can't believe I'm actually asking this — attracted to Severus Snape?

Hermione Granger: I told you before I'm not talking about that.

PW: You have to.

HG: I don't. And I won't.

PW: I'll tell!

HG: Go ahead.

PW: I'm a Ministry official!

HG: You're a nosy prat!

PW: Answer the question.

HG: Yes.

[Silence]

PW: Yes?

HG: Yes. Are we done?

PW: Aren't you already engaged, Miss Granger?

HG: Percy, I'm warning you—

PW: Were Severus Snape and Bill Weasley fighting about you on the morning of the 25th?

HG: No. Well. Not exactly.

PW: Can you elaborate?

HG: It's a long story.

PW: I have all day.

HG: Well, I don't. I have a class to teach in about 20 minutes, actually, and I don't intend to be late. Are we done now?

PW: Please note the witness has been labeled hostile.

HG: I'll show you hostile, Percy—

[Unintelligible]

HG: Have you ever been in love, Percy? Have you ever really loved someone? Loved them so much you can't imagine being away from them for one single minute, you dream about them, you can smell them—

PW: You're excused Miss Granger.

HG: What?

PW: You're done. Finished. We're done here. I have everything I need from you. Next!

XX

Bill and Snape stood 20 feet apart, faces black and furious.

"What are you two doing?" Hermione said as calmly as possible, stepping out of the shadows on trembling legs. Snape didn't turn his head, but his eyes flicked in her direction immediately, his lip curled just slightly.

"Stay back, Hermione," Bill said. "This is dangerous work, here. Very dangerous."

"What are you blathering about?" Snape barked. "Have you lost your mind?"

"I had a feeling you'd say that," Bill said condescendingly. "It's a sign of the Plumbeus Curse. Belligerence and denial. It's all right, Snape. Going to get you all fixed up. Don't worry."

"SICCO MALUM PUS!"

Snape and Hermione gaped.

"ABSENTIS TURPIS PHASMATIS!"

"What the—" Snape looked at Hermione, perplexed. "Do you know what's going on?"

"Bill," Hermione said tentatively, "this doesn't appear to be accomplishing…anything. Are you sure—"

Bill shuffled closer, eyes never leaving Snape's face. "This won't hurt a bit, old chap. Well, maybe just a bit—"

"Bill—" Hermione began.

"My wand—" Snape said, almost longingly, and his eyes moved ever so slightly in Hermione's direction. She thought, she moved — lightning quick and before she fully realized — plucked the wand from Bill's outstretched left hand and tossed it to Snape.

"Hey!" Bill yelled.

"I just don't want you to hurt him," Hermione said, her cheeks blazing. Snape smirked, then:

"Run, Hermione!" he bellowed.

"What? Why?"

WHAM!

BLAST!

KABOOM!

Hermione screamed and dove behind a statue as the very ground trembled beneath her feet and chunks of wall tumbled around her. She heard Bill yelling unintelligible words, heard Snape yelling very intelligible curse words right back.

"WHAT'S GOING ON HERE?" Argus Filch screamed, skidding into the hall, arms flailing about his head. "WHO MADE THIS MESS? WHO—"

Then students and teachers swarmed in behind him, forming a ragged circle around the duelers.

"Fight! Fight!"

"Ooh! It's Professor Snape!"

"Kick his arse, red-headed guy!"

"Ginger can take him, easy."

"Wanna bet?"

"Finite maledictio!" Bill yelled.

"Fuck off!" Snape snapped.

"Finite exsecror!"

"Fucking stop that, you moron!"

"FINITE VOMICA!"

"STOP ALREADY!"

Both men paused, panting, sweating, wild-eyed.

"Okay…why isn't this working?" Bill looked genuinely puzzled.

"Because I'm not Cursed, you bloody idiot!"

"Yes, you are!"

Snape groaned. "For the last time you bloody imbecile, I...AM…NOT…CUR—"

BLAM!

SMASH!

CRASH!

A particularly large chunk of wall hit the floor, making Snape jump in surprise, and Bill took the opportunity to pounce bodily. There was much rolling and scuffling, a few ineffective punches, and when the dust cleared, Snape was sitting astride Bill's chest, arms pinned beneath him. Bill coughed a few times. Snape was almost panting. Hermione approached tentatively from the edge of the circle.

"Tell her! Tell her right now!" Snape's wand was jammed hard into the soft flesh of Bill's neck.

"This man," Bill gasped, gesturing with his chin at Snape's livid, tense form, "fancies you, Hermione."

"And?" Snape snarled, shoving the wand in deeper. Bill's voice emerged as a squeak. His face was rapidly turning the colour of rotten eggplant.

"He's of sound mind! Very, very sound, sane mind. The soundest I've ever encountered, in fact. No one who was Cursed could throw hexes like that. I tried everything, Hermione. Every Curse breaker I know. He's…normal…I guess you could say."

Panting, dust-coated, black hair almost completely grey, Snape sat back very, very slowly, his wand still, shifting his gaze to Hermione.

"Severus?" Hermione said quietly, moving closer. She reached out a tentative hand. After a long moment he lifted his arm and took her hand in his.

"Hermione." Little puffs of dust emerged from his mouth as he spoke. "Do you find it so difficult to believe that I may actually be attracted to you? As myself?"

"Oh," Hermione's small, soft exclamation escaped her lips without her notice. "You do? You are?"

"Of course, you daft woman," Snape finally released his death grip on Bill's shirtfront; Bill's head fell back with a small thud. "I…do. I am.Very much."

Hermione launched herself at him then, wrapping her arms around him. Her mouth was very soft and warm against his.

"Wait one bloody minute," Ron coughed, pushing his way through the onlookers, his face furious. "You were supposed to meet me for lunch, Hermione. What the hell's all this about?"

"Oh. Ron." Hermione pulled back just slightly from Snape's mouth. She smiled. "Yes. There's something I've been meaning to tell you."

XX

News item from The Quibbler, June 29, 2004:

"Wedding Bells Ring for Darling Duo."

Reliable sources confirm that Severus Snape and Hermione Granger will marry sometime this summer.

"I have it all figured out," says Professor Luna Lovegood. "August 21. The bride will wear blue, and the bridesmaids yellow. Severus will have three groomsmen, and Minerva will serve as Matron of Honour. The weather will be glorious, the food, not so much."

In other related news, the Inquest into the "Hogwarts Happening" failed to produce enough evidence to warrant moving towards a full hearing. As a result, both Snape and Bill Weasley have been fully exonerated and the matter is now considered officially closed.

Professors Snape and Granger were—

XX

"—both unavailable for comment," Hermione slapped the paper down and rolled back with laughter. "No one from that paper has ever tried to contact me."

"Or me."

"At least they got the exoneration part right."

"What was Luna on about?"

"Oh," Hermione giggled. She hated giggling. "She worked everything out, showed me the figures and everything."

"…and?" Snape raised one eyebrow.

Hermione shrugged as if she didn't care. "Her numbers were very…sound."

They stopped smiling at the same time as their eyes met. Snape cleared his throat.

"Well, then."

"Yes."

Hermione leaned back on the bed, her head fitting neatly into the crook of his shoulder. She lay her arm across his chest, could feel his heart beating under her hand.

"This is nice."

"Indeed."

"We should be packing, you realize. We leave for Hungary tomorrow."

Snape murmured, but didn't move.

"I'm very glad you weren't Cursed, after all that. That would have been most unfortunate."

"Oh, but I was."

"Was what?"

"Cursed. Horribly. Irreparably. Still am, in fact."

She pulled back, frowning, eyes searching his face, hand reaching surreptitiously for her wand on the bedside table. Snape rolled his eyes, sighed, and placed a restraining hand on her wrist.

"Hermione, the only Curse I have on me was cast by you, yourself," he said.

"Me?" She sniffed, indignant, eyes flashing. "I did no such thing! I've been trying valiantly, all this time, to save you from some horrible—"

"Hermione," he said, pulling her to him. "Have you ever heard of the Verus Diligo Curse?"

She shook her head. "No."

"Hmm. Well, look it up when you get the chance. I'm horribly afflicted. Horribly, wonderfully. I think about you constantly. I want to be with you. I can smell you, see you in my dreams. You haunt me."

"I do?" She smiled. He leaned close, closer, his lips finding the tip of her ear, the corner of her lips, her chin. She shivered. His mouth covered hers. "I certainly didn't mean to."

"I forgive you," he murmured.

"How does one—" She kissed him. "Break—" kiss "this particular Curse—?" kiss, kiss.

He smirked.

"Just."

Kiss.

"Keep."

Kiss.

"Doing."

Kiss.

"This."

Kiss.

XX

Interview #40, Inquest into the Hogwarts Happening, conducted by Percy Weasley, Department of Magical Law Enforcement, June 21, 2004.

Percy Weasley: Thank you for joining me today.

Bill Weasley: I had no choice, Percy.

PW: Yes. Well—

BW: This is all one big misunderstanding, right? It all started with Hermione, all right? She came to me—

PW: I've already spoken with Miss Granger, at length.

BW: And? Did she tell you? It's all her doing. She's to blame. She thought Snape was—

PW: I told you we spoke!

BW: And?

PW: She was…uh…most unhelpful, actually.

BW: [Expletive] Are you doing your [Expletive] job, Percy? At all? [Expletive]

PW: You're my final interview, Bill. Don't give me a hard time, all right?

[Unintelligible]

BW: Fine. [Expletive] Let's get this over with.

PW: Was Severus Snape Cursed or not?

[Unintelligible]

PW: You'll have to speak up, Bill. Seriously. I already told you. Into the microphone.

BW: Why are you even using that thing? Why not a Quick Quotes Quill? I thought Dad said he didn't want you—

PW: Dad said just the opposite, actually. He was very interested to know if this worked for this type of—

BW: Whatever! I'm not denying that events got a little…out of hand. But it wasn't my fault…completely. I was merely attempting to help Hermione and save Snape's thankless hide. He attacked me—

PW: That's not what I asked. And bloody well right events got a "little out of hand." Did you see the damage done? Did you—

BW: All right! Get on with it!

PW: Snape. Was he Cursed? Yes or no?

[Silence]

PW: Bill?

BW: No.

PW: No?

BW: No, all right? He was not Cursed. Never was. But, Hermione—

PW: So, you admit you made a horrible, expensive, potentially career-ending mistake.

[Unintelligible]

PW: Pardon?

BW: I said, shut the [Expletive] up, Percy.

XX

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