Well of Shadows
What Passes For Normal
By Ruskbyte
Chapter Seventeen
~ What Passes For Normal ~
It was the first day back after the Christmas holidays. Winter was making itself known, seemingly intent on making up for its mildness the previous year. The snow lay nearly two feet deep on the
ground, sometimes as much as three or even four. The sky was completely overcast with leaden grey clouds stretching from horizon to horizon.
Despite it being the first day back, and a frigid day at that, the students found themselves leaving the Great Hall after breakfast in a surprisingly cheerful mood. Common consensus was that this ebullience had something to do with the fact that upon entering the hall the students had found the house tables to be hidden beneath stacks of pizza. Nothing else to eat could be found with the exception of a variety of extra toppings that happened to be lying around.
Nobody could determine the reason for this, although some consideration was given to Moira's theory that the Weasley twins had somehow sneaked into the castle during the night and bribed the house elves.
Then there was the fact that, to go with the pizza, the only liquid refreshment available was a strange concoction that a few of the older Muggle-born students were able to identify as being Pina Coladas. The Hufflepuffs in particular seemed rather taken by the miniature umbrellas that adorned the drinks, although Hermione doubted the colourful decorations were supposed to have been added - not that she knew anything about such matters, of course.
The staff were caught completely unprepared and by the time they realized the exact nature of the drinks almost the entire student population were, if not tipsy then at least feeling a pleasant warmth. Professor Trelawney, who had made a rare excursion down from her tower, loudly proclaimed the incident as a sign that Beltane was upon them. Since it was still the first week of January not even Lavender or Parvati took her seriously.
After some measure of order had been restored and vast quantities of pizza consumed the students marched --or in some cases swayed-- out the hall and to the first class of the day. It was then, during the Gryffindor and Slytherin sixth-years' Potions class, that an event took place which would forever label this day as the strangest day in Hogwarts' long history.
Professor Snape entered the classroom with a broad smile on his face.
It was only, however, when the normally temperamental. professor opened his mouth to address the class that the dumbstruck students concluded that this was indeed a sign of the apocalypse. Either that or the Pina Coladas had been stronger than they had thought.
"Gooooood mornin' all you happy kiddies!!"
Hermione almost swallowed her tongue upon hearing this, but managed to limit her reaction to a muffled cough. After a moment to collect herself, she leaned close to Ron, who was sandwiched between her and Harry, and whispered in accusation, "What the devil did your brothers do to him?"
Ron, not letting his eyes stray from the beaming Potions Master, shook his head in awe. "Not even Fred and George could pull off something like this."
Y'know, he's probably right, she thought, besides, the twins are at the Burrow.
On Ron's other side, Hermione could see that Harry, along with the rest of the class, appeared to be simply unable to form any coherent thoughts let alone a marginally understandable sentence. Instead of making any comment on this bizarre scenario, he was watching Snape with cautious eyes, as if expecting the sallow man to suddenly draw his wand and start shooting Killing Curses in every direction.
"Snape's gone mad," whispered Neville, who had partnered himself with Harry, since Hermione had pointedly refused to be paired with anyone other than Ron. The normally timid boy paused to watch as Snape cheerfully scribbled instructions onto the blackboard at the front of the class, using bright pink chalk to do so. Neville then summed up his feelings on the matter, "It's scary."
Harry nodded dumbly and said, "He's smiling."
"Of course I'm smiling," declared Snape, turning from the blackboard and grinning broadly at Harry in a companionable manner. "Why shouldn't I be? It's a wonderful morning. It's a wonderful day... it's a wonderful life!"
Tentatively Hermione raised her left hand, keeping her injured right arm tucked close to her side, and caught Snape's attention. He turned to face her and asked pleasantly, "Yes, Hermione? You have a question?"
Hermione swallowed nervously and asked timidly, "Professor Snape... are you feeling okay?"
"Never been better!" exclaimed Snape brightly. He grinned at her. "Seven points to Gryffindor for your marvellous interest in my wellbeing, Hermione. Actually, make it seventeen points. If you have any other questions, ask away. Come on, don't be shy."
There was a moment of utter, complete and unmatched silence as the assembled Gryffindors and Slytherins stared at their professor. Hermione blinked her eyes rapidly and, in a last ditch effort to try and wake herself from this daydream, pinched herself. Unfortunately all this accomplished was to produce a sharp pain in her thigh.
"Today," announced Snape happily, waving a hand to indicate the list of ingredients he had written up on the blackboard earlier, "we'll be learning one of the more basic Love Potions. It will be Valentine's Day soon, so pay attention to this - that includes you, Neville. And you as well, Ronald." He looked towards Ron with what seemed frighteningly like sympathy. "I hope you have not been having too much trouble catching up the work you missed?"
"Um... no trouble," Ron managed to answer, looking very unsure of himself. It was true that Ron was progressing quite well through the work he had missed during his time in the hospital wing, thanks to Harry and Hermione's help, but being on the receiving end of a seemingly compassionate Professor Snape was no doubt unnerving for him.
Snape beamed at this good news. "Delighted to hear it. If you need any help with your Potions; you know where to find me. Drop by any time."
Hermione had to admit at this point that Ron was not the only one present who was unnerved by this drastic turnaround in Snape's behaviour. She shook her head in a futile attempt to clear her thoughts. Heaven only knows even I'm starting to become worried.
"What in the name of all the nether hells is wrong with you?!" exclaimed Pansy Parkinson, who had risen to her feet and was openly gaping at her head of house. Apparently she was in denial and thus not thinking all too clearly, otherwise she would have known better than to ask that question out loud and in such a tone of voice.
"Twenty points from Slytherin!!" Snape bellowed, his face contorting around his ever-present smile into something that vaguely approached a scowl. It was the kind of look that might give a weak-hearted sparrow pause, but otherwise did nothing to intimidate anyone, expect Pansy who seemed to enter a state of shock at having points deducted from Slytherin by Snape.
"He just took points away from Slytherin," Harry said in disbelief.
"I think I know why it's so cold outside," whispered Ron, leaning across Hermione so that Harry could also hear.
Hermione, who was watching Snape in horrified fascination, asked distractedly, "Oh?"
Ron nodded and said, "Yeah. Hell just froze over."
***
Lunch that first day of term proved to be, if nothing else, just as entertaining for the students as breakfast had. They entered the Great Hall after their morning classes to find that, for the second time that day, the regular menu had been substituted for something... rather more interesting.
The meal progressed with reasonable normality but for the forks at the Slytherin table; which would intermittently pull free from the grasp of whomever was using them and rise up into the air. There they would pause for a moment, gently bobbing up and down, before diving down upon their victim with loud and high-pitched cries of "Banzai!"
Then there was the fact that whenever one of the Ravenclaws touched a salt or pepper shaker the entire house would begin to sneeze in perfect unison. This would not have been too much of a problem for the academic Ravenclaws, but for the fact that their table had been charmed so that everyone sitting at it would compulsively reach for either the salt or the pepper.
It was the Hufflepuff table, which had most obviously been attended to. Whoever was responsible had clearly noted the fascination with which the Hufflepuffs had toyed with the cocktail umbrellas that had been decorating the Pina Coladas that morning. Hence they dined under the shade of two dozen yellow and black striped umbrellas, which granted the table a decidedly outdoors feeling.
Not even the Gryffindors had been spared, finding themselves unable to acquire anything to drink other than coffee and mint-flavoured tea. It was this that brought Ron and Hermione's attention to Ginny and Harry, who respectively favoured those drinks over all others. Were it not for the obviously exasperated, but still slightly bemused, expressions on their faces Ron would have thought them to be the pranksters.
"Well, at least we know it wasn't Fred and George now," said Ron, fixing a square of bread to his fork before reaching for the nearest bubbling pot of melted cheese. Similar to what had happened at breakfast, the food at the table had been specifically limited. Instead of pizzas, however, this time the only thing available to eat was a staggering variety of fondues.
"How d'you reckon that?" asked Harry, trying not to leave a trail as he withdrew his fork from a pot of what looked like mushroom sauce.
Ron dipped his bread into the cheese as he answered, "They definitely weren't here this morning, so they wouldn't have known the Hufflepuffs would take such a liking to the umbrellas in those Pine Colognes we had this morning."
Hermione casually corrected him, "Pina Coladas."
Harry turned to Hermione and asked, "Are those actually supposed to have umbrellas?"
"I don't know," replied Hermione quickly, a faint blush rising to her cheeks.
"BANZAI!!"
"AAAAHH!!"
The loud yell from the direction of the Slytherin table distracted the Gryffindors as they turned to see Pansy Parkinson attempting to flee the hall. Apparently she had done something to annoy the forks, leading them to arrayed themselves in squadrons and take turns dive bombing her. As Pansy ran, ducking and weaving from the Great Hall, Ron could not help but feel a slight pang in his heart.
Four months of lying comatose in the hospital wing had caused repercussions for Ron beyond simply falling behind in his studies. All through his body, Ron's muscles had atrophied from lack of use, leaving the young man considerably weaker than he had been before the accident. Even with the aid of magic spells and potions, Ron still had a great deal of work ahead of him before he could reclaim the fitness he had once so easily taken for granted.
Chewing thoughtfully on the cheese-covered square of bread, Ron shook his head, as he always did when he found himself growing introspective. It was, he noticed, an occurrence that seemed to have increased as of late - apparently a side effect of his injury.
Since awakening on Christmas day Ron had found himself spending far more time questioning things he ordinarily would never have given a second thought. He was learning a great many things, not only about the schoolwork he had missed, but about himself. Though he had yet to discuss it with anyone other than Hermione --who had almost refused to let him out of her sight during the first week after his awakening-- Ron was beginning to discover that he was a far more complex person than he had originally thought himself to be.
Talking it over with Hermione during one of their nightly catch-up study sessions, one where Harry and Ginny had not been present, he had come to realize that the stereotypical behaviour he had fallen into was merely a lone facet of his personality. Apparently, to his chagrin upon hearing it, this was old news to his girlfriend and his best friend, who appeared to know Ron Weasley better than he did himself.
Pulling himself out of this short excursion into self-discovery, Ron resumed to mull over his unfortunate state of fitness. While Madam Pomfrey was supplementing his diet with a staggering arrangement of potions designed to help him along, as well as regular practices with Harry and Ginny, it would be at least a month before Ron could resume his place on the Gryffindor Quidditch team. Essentially he was going to miss their next match, against Ravenclaw, and only be able to play in the final game of the season, against Hufflepuff.
Of course, he thought while glancing at Hermione, who cradled her right arm close to her side as she stretched to reach a pot that was just out of reach, I don't really have that much cause to complain. Hermione was hurt far worse than I was.
"I think she fancies one of them," he said unexpectedly.
Ginny looked at him with a nonplussed expression. This was another side effect of Ron's injury; that his train of thought would often switch tracks with mercurial rapidity, frequently leaving those in his presence with complete incomprehension as to what he would now be talking about. His sister blinked several times before asking, "What? What on earth are you talking about? Who fancies who?"
Harry asked suspiciously, "You're not talking about Pansy, are you?"
"Of course not!"
"Then who?" prompted his best friend, looking from Hermione to Ginny and back.
"Don't look at me," said Hermione, holding up her right hand in denial. She shook her head and waved the fork she was holding in her left hand, jokingly saying, "I seldom have any idea what he's talking about."
Ron stifled a growl of frustration and elaborated, "Zabini."
Hermione blinked in surprise and asked, "What about her?"
"I told you - I think she fancies one of them."
"Who? Who's them?" asked Ginny.
"Fred and George!" exclaimed Ron, as if it were perfectly obvious.
"Oh, of course," said Harry, sounding as though it were perfectly obvious. He then dashed Ron's hopes of having an ally in this conversation by sarcastically adding, "How quickly I have lost the thread of this tapestry of intrigue."
"This is serious," Ron insisted, frowning at their cavalier reaction to the topic. He motioned at the table on the other side of the hall, where the object of their discussion was wrestling with a fork in an attempt to eat something. "A Slytherin might have a secret crush on one of my brothers!"
"Oh, it's no secret..." Ginny realized her mistake immediately when Ron's head snapped towards where she was sitting next to Harry. Trying not to wince she admitted, "Except from you."
Ron could feel his eyes almost bugging out of his head as he stared at Ginny in disbelief that almost match that which he had experienced during this morning's Potions class. He looked from her to Harry and then Hermione, seeing that slightly guilty expressions coloured their faces as they studiously attempted to continue eating.
He looked narrowly at his companions and asked, "How long has this been going on for? How long have you know about it?"
"Since you woke up," admitted Ginny.
"Yes," agreed Hermione uncomfortably, "we suspected something was up when she turned the twins pink and started flirting with them."
"Actually it was Professor Hilary that mentioned it first," Harry pointed out.
Ron blinked several times, amazed by the fact that he had somehow managed to miss seeing this development. After a moment of self-reproach he asked, "But why are you lot simply sitting around and doing nothing?"
"There may be nothing we can do," Hermione told him in that calm voice she brought to the fore whenever she was anticipating a fight with him. "Like it or not this isn't something you can fix and forget."
"I get it, I get it," Ron responded quickly, intent on forestalling any argument between him and his girlfriend before it could develop. With a sigh he also found himself admitting, "In any case, I realize that most of my prior attempts to 'fix' things usually did more damage than leaving them be."
This admission raised the eyebrows of all three of his companions. Ginny shook her head slightly in amazement and said, "That's a rather... perceptive realization for you, Ron. I'm impressed. I daresay all three of us are."
"Thank you," he sighed. Realizing that this was yet another battle he would not be winning --he had experience in these lost causes-- Ron sighed again and propped an elbow on the table so that he could support his chin in his palm.
Ron looked past Harry and Ginny, sitting opposite him, and saw that Zabini had abandoned her efforts in controlling her fork, moving to the Ravenclaw table and her friends Padma Patil and Terry Boot, apparently preferring to join them in their sneezing rather than fight for her meal. He stifled the urge to sigh yet again and muttered, "I just know this is going to end badly for me."
Harry waved his concerns away. "Relax, Ron. Don't worry about it. After all, what could possibly go wrong?"
"Shall I record that under, 'famous last words'?" Ron asked dryly.
***
"I'd never have believed that I could actually enjoy a Potions class," admitted Ginny during dinner later that day. As she heartily dug into her steaming helping of spaghetti and meatballs she continued, "If anybody had told me that yesterday I'd have personally escorted them to St. Mungo's for therapy."
"Hilarious, wasn't it?" asked Harry as he twirled some spaghetti around his fork which, thankfully, had not attempted to dive bomb anyone during the course of the meal.
Ginny giggled and nodded. "Even better than you described. Although I think whatever it was that caused his... condition is beginning to wear off. He actually managed to scowl once or twice by the end of the lesson."
Ron, who was sitting opposite her, sighed wistfully and prodded his spaghetti. "Pity."
"Yeah," agreed Harry, nodding unhappily. Stabbing a meatball with his fork he told them, "We'll need to find something else to liven things up for us around here."
"No, thank you," declared Hermione, sprinkling some mozzarella over her spaghetti. "I think Hogwarts has been lively enough over the past few months without you adding to it."
A sly expression settled across Harry's face and Ginny immediately began to feel apprehensive at the sight of it. Harry would always develop this look on his face when he came up with a plan that he thought was very clever. Ginny had seen it many times, not only in both private and social settings, but also on a few rare occasions when Harry was forced into a confrontation. It usually meant that he was about to spring an exceptionally unpleasant surprise upon whichever unsuspecting victim dared to challenge him.
What's going through that evil mind of yours? she asked worriedly.
~Hey! My mind is not evil!~ protested Harry. ~Not entirely anyway.~ He paused and considered for a moment before grinning wickedly and saying, "I've just had a wonderfully innovative idea that promises to liven up tonight's grand re-opening quite impressively."
"Oh no," Ginny managed to groan before Harry grabbed her by the wrist and pulled her to her feet, dragging her in the direction of the staff table.
Harry, Ginny asked silently, nervousness blossoming within her, what are you doing?
~Trust me on this, Ginny~ he responded, ~Have I ever led you wrong?~
"Frequently," she muttered under her breath as Harry pulled her to where Professor Dumbledore was eating his own spaghetti, which was covered by a small mountain of meatballs, tomatoes, mushrooms and cheese. The elderly wizard smiled as the two students stood before him, his eyebrows raised in question as he looked from Ginny to Harry.
"Headmaster," Harry said in greeting, "I just wanted to inform you that there's been a slight change in tonight's program."
Dumbledore paused in the consumption of his spaghetti --which was the sole item of food available for dinner-- looked on curiously and asked, "You're not thinking of cancelling are you, Harry?"
Harry shook his head, "Of course not. Everything will go just as planned, with the exception that I won't be the one taking the class."
Harry no!! protested Ginny, a sinking feeling settling in her stomach.
"I now intend not only to introduce Ginny as my assistant in class," continued Harry, "but to also let her be tonight's instructor."
"I see," observed Dumbledore, his blue eyes sparkling merrily as he regarded the look of growing alarm spreading across Ginny's face. The headmaster visibly stifled a grin, but Ginny saw his moustache twitching with amusement as he turned to her and said, "In that case, Virginia, since this effectively makes you a member of Hogwarts' staff, please feel free to call me Albus from now on."
Ginny struggled not to gape at Dumbledore, her mind awhirl with thoughts that were not meshing together in any coherent fashion. One part of her was honoured that the headmaster considered her enough of an equal to ask that she address him as one. Another part was horrified that Dumbledore was apparently willing to follow Harry's lead and allow Ginny to actually teach students rather than simply act as Harry's assistant.
One large part of Ginny was contemplating Harry's demise for doing something like this to her. She turned from Dumbledore and glared at her boyfriend in a manner she had learnt over the years from her mother. Harry, however, refused to flinch even as Ginny put her hands on her hips and huffed angrily at him.
Then Ginny made the mistake of looking into his eyes, something that invariably prevented her from remaining even slightly annoyed with him for very long. In that moment, seeing the teasing sparkle of mischief in those incredibly bright green eyes, Ginny felt the largest part of herself come forward and without thinking about it her mouth curled into a small grin of understanding.
"You realize, of course," she told him in the cultivated bone-dry tone that let him know she was returning the tease, "that now I'll have to kill you."
***
The news spread throughout the school faster than a Firebolt in a steep dive. Harry could guess that Ginny had told Hermione, who in turn had informed Parvati and Lavender, who had then taken it upon themselves to let everyone else in on what was supposed to be the final surprise for the day. How they had accomplished this in less than half an hour was one of those mysteries that would likely never be solved.
Entering the Practical Fighting Techniques auditorium, which resided under the room that had housed a giant-sized three-headed dog several years before, Harry found himself the centre of a great deal more attention than was usual. Most of the students had arrived early, eager to find those seats which would provide the best view. As he made his way down the shallow stairs leading to the centre stage, Harry could hear the low whispers and quiet betting that always seemed to be produced when he and Ginny went out onto the stage together.
*Sounds like the betting is pretty even, Harry,* remarked Osiris as Harry walked past the section of seats claimed by the Gryffindor students.
*Quite so,* agreed Heracles, *It seems that you are no longer the default favourite to win.*
I'm sure Ginny's delighted to hear that, replied Harry.
Standing by the desk, set to one side of the stage, Ginny grinned impishly as he caught her eye and told him, ~Definitely. I hear Moira's bet five Galleons on me laying you on your arse in less than five minutes.~
"Potter."
Harry stopped and turned to find Blaise Zabini, who stepped close to him and said in a low voice, "I've bet a lot of Galleons that you'll be the one to win this."
He raised his eyebrows and asked, "And if I don't?"
"I will be... annoyed," Zabini told him succinctly, before turning on a heel and marching to where the few Slytherins that were present were seated.
~For someone with aspirations of becoming my sister-in-law~ Ginny noted wryly, having overheard the conversation while moving from Harry's desk to centre stage, ~she should know better.~
We don't know that she wants to marry either of the twins, Harry admonished her as he strode out onto the stage, taking up a place just behind and to the right of Ginny.
"Good evening," Ginny announced. Harry looked out over the crowd, noting that almost every Auror that was not on duty had made a point of attending the class. Unlike the students and professors, he guessed that they were present just as a precaution in the event anything untoward should occur. Even so, he noted that several of the younger Aurors appeared to be exchanging bets in much the same manner as the students.
"We'll be starting off," Ginny was saying as she slowly moved away from Harry, "with a short demonstration of unarmed combat between myself and my boyfriend. After I've successfully knocked Harry off his feet and onto his arse, we'll proceed --providing Harry's still conscious-- with short personal evaluations of various students in order to assess your levels of ability."
Harry, deciding to ignore her confident remark about knocking him onto his posterior, smiled cheekily and bestowed an overstated bow to Ginny. Giving Harry a smirk that was both playful and dangerous at the same time Ginny adopted a basic ready stance and asked, "No holds barred, lover?"
"No holds barred," Harry confirmed, silently wondering if any medical insurance --for the most part a Muggle concept-- covered being beaten to death by one's girlfriend.
A second later, Harry was silently wondering when Ginny had become so proficient in martial arts. She exploded towards him even before he had finished speaking, raining in rapid combinations of hand and foot strikes. Harry was immediately on the defensive, retreating and countering the flurry of blows as best he could, which was not easy considering the rapidity with which Ginny was launching her attacks.
Ginny quickly backed Harry to the edge of the auditorium's stage and seemed to be only moments away from knocking him clean out of the arena. She came at him with the fury of a thunderstorm unleashed; every kick and punch cracking through the air like lightning. Harry stood firm against the onslaught, but it was a considerable effort, requiring him to bring every ounce of his speed and strength to the fore.
*Aye, lad,* commented Loki in a bemused tone, *You seem to have worked yourself into a corner this time.*
You think?
Harry was reacting to Ginny's attacks on an almost instinctual level, his concentration focused more on the task of analyzing her actions and determining the strategy he needed to end their contest. Since Ginny's ire was mostly his own fault, Harry quickly dismissed any idea of using his superior size and strength, realizing that this would only serve to fuel Ginny's temper.
In that instant Ginny sent an inside knife hand strike arcing in from the left, aimed at Harry's collarbone. Ordinarily Harry would have blocked or deflected the strike, but this time he overrode his reflexive response and instead tried something completely unexpected.
He lowered his arms, which he had been holding up to protect his head, and took a short step backwards. Ginny's right hand swished past him, missing by only a matter of an inch or two, but leaving the young witch momentarily exposed. Before she could pull back Harry's hands snapped out and clamped around Ginny's wrist. Pivoting on his heel Harry heaved and sent his girlfriend flying.
Ginny sailed through the air, heading for a hard landing on her back, but somehow managed to flip herself over. With her head tucked close to her chest and her arms and legs pulled tight against her body, Ginny deftly righted her body and uncoiled to alight nimbly on her feet, her bright brown eyes fixed on Harry as her lips curved into a wry smile.
"Damn," she said as she straightened, "for a minute there I thought I might just beat you for once."
"You're getting better," Harry acknowledged walking over to her. As he approached Harry reached up to rub at the corner of his mouth where a trickle of blood was oozing out. This was the result of the only blow Ginny had managed to land, quite early in the fight too. "You almost took my head off once or twice."
"It's just a scratch. Nothing serious," Ginny answered playfully, reaching up to tenderly dab away the spot of red.
Harry arched an eyebrow at her and observed, "It was awfully close though. What if you'd really injured me?"
Ginny effected an innocent look and asked, "What makes you think I wasn't trying?"
And you were saying something about my being evil? he asked with a broad grin. Turning to face the body of students and observing professors and Aurors, who were applauding the display, Harry asked out loud, "So, ready to begin the evaluations?"
"Naturally," she said with a brisk nod, "now that we're warmed up."
"Who d'you want to start with then?" he asked.
Harry watched with mounting amusement as Ginny's eyes tracked over the waiting students, who had abruptly fallen silent. He tried to stifle the smile when Ginny fixed her eyes upon the still form of Blaise Zabini, whose own smile abruptly faded upon realising that she was about to "volunteer" to be first up for evaluation.
"It's come to our attention that there has been some... friendly wagering as to which of the two of us here would win our little sparring contest.," Ginny began, keeping her eyes locked on Zabini. She arched one auburn eyebrow almost to her hairline and noted, "It has also come to my attention that certain people who should know better decided to bet against me."
Blaise swallowed nervously and, without another word on Ginny's part, rose from her seat and stepped out onto the stage. As she passed by Harry she shot him a glare so cold he thought his fingers would get frostbite, clearly under the assumption that he had informed Ginny of which side she had chosen. Shrugging apologetically, since he had in a way been the reason Ginny knew, Harry watched as Zabini settled opposite Ginny.
"Let's get this over with," Blaise replied, wagging her fists in Ginny's direction in poor imitation of a boxer. "And try not to kill me."
Yes, Harry thought with a smile, life at Hogwarts is returning to normal.
***
"That wasn't so hard now, was it?"
Hilary Proteus favoured her husband with a sardonic look, as they slowly made their way back to their quarters from the Practical Fighting Techniques auditorium. Reluctantly she gave a slight nod and admitted, "Not from this angle, no."
Gregory only shrugged. "I suppose teaching your first class is a bit stressful."
"Stressful?" repeated Hilary, staring at him with wide hazel eyes. She quickly collected herself and then remarked, "I remember you being as cool as a cucumber the first time you taught."
"Actually," Gregory admitted in a bashful tone, "the first thought on my mind at the time was 'I'm doomed'."
"It didn't show," Hilary stated with authority. "In fact, you managed to scare most of us half to death."
Gregory grinned wolfishly at her, "At least I got everyone's attention."
Hilary's next retort died in her throat as she spied someone approaching them from over Gregory's shoulder. Gregory, seeing her gaze, turned and visibly tensed at the sight of Professor Snape walking swiftly down the corridor towards them. Both husband and wife, though they would never admit it, were impressed by the sheer vehemence that radiated off the black robed man. He was practically oozing accidental magic as he approached them, not really walking so much as stalking in a predatory manner.
"Proteus," he bit out as he came to a halt before them. He shot first Gregory and then Hilary a fiery look that threatened to induce spontaneous combustion in the two Defence professors. Both teachers simply raised their eyebrows and met his glare with expressions of polite curiosity, obviously made of sterner stuff than anyone else, who would have been trying their best to escape the Potions Master's presence.
"Severus," acknowledged Gregory courteously. The faintest traces of a smile reached his lips as he noted innocently, "I see you're feeling better."
"Indeed," intoned Snape with a remarkable amount of cutting inflection placed on that single word, clearly informing the pair that he knew who was responsible for his lapse in behaviour during the day. His black eyes flicked from one Proteus to the other, narrowing fractionally as he continued, "As a matter of fact I wished to inform you personally that I am now fully recovered from my... distraction and shall be resuming my lessons tomorrow in my usual manner."
Hilary managed not to wince in sympathy for those students who had Potions the following day. "I'm sure the students will be delighted to have you back to your old self," she said diplomatically.
"No," Snape said, just before he left. "They most certainly will not."
TBC...