Duck Duck Goose

Duck . . . Duck . . . Goose!

By MysticSlave



Disclaimer: We own nothing but the story concepts. All HP characters and similarities to the books are JK’s. Much to our disappointment.



Author’s Note:



Keep an eye out for Rickmanisms!



Love MysticSlave







Chapter Ten: Murphy’s Laws . . .



The rest of Severus’ vacation passed rather quickly. He holed himself up in his room poring deftly through Hermione’s new books, being very careful, as was his way, not to bring any damage or wear to them. Hermione would receive them in the same condition he had. The Grangers were indulgent of their daughter and after a few foiled attempts on Mrs. Granger’s part she gave up asking after Sage. Severus sent the owl back out again with Hermione’s gifts with a note explaining why they were late, although he was not entirely truthful.



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Severus hugged the Grangers and slipped through the gateway to Platform 9 ¾ where he found Ron and Seamus waiting for him. “Hullo, Hermione!” Ron called jovially. “Did you have a good break?”



“Yes, Ron, I had a lovely time. Did you two have fun?”



Seamus nodded briefly at Hermione. “Tis always a joy to be home, Hermione. I love the food at Hogwarts but I always miss me Mum’s baking. There’s nothing to be had like what the Irish can serve ye.”



“I got your gift, Hermione,” Ron announced once they were seated on the train. “It’s not a problem. I hope you got everything worked out. I held on to my gift for you. I wasn’t sure if the owl would get back before you left.” He thrust a gift forward to Hermione. “It’s a joint gift this year, from me and Harry.” He grinned at her and Severus bit back his need to correct Ron’s grammar.



He took the gift gingerly. “The twins did not have any part of this parcel, now did they, Ron?” he asked warily.



Ron shook his head, so Severus carefully unwrapped it. Inside he found a beautifully bound book called When Love Speaks: Shakespeare’s Love Sonnets. Severus inhaled, “Ohhh, Ronald, thank you. I adore Shakespeare!”



Ron smiled. “We thought you would. We’ve been . . . well I guess you could say Seamus had a part in your gift too. He introduced us to the sonnets in the first place and Harry and I went looking for the most beautiful copy for you. You can touch your wand to each of the titles and hear it read by famous witches and wizards!”



Severus smiled and touched his wand to his favourite sonnet. A rich, velvety voice began:



My mistress eyes are nothing like the sun

Coral more red than her lips red—



Curious, he tapped the title again and the voice stopped. It was a wonderful gift. Severus had been so entranced by the book that he failed to see Seamus blush when that particular sonnet came to life.



The ride back to Hogwarts was uneventful. Severus restrained himself from listening to all the sonnets. Ron produced a handful of galleons that Harry had given him for snacks on the train since he wouldn’t be there, and Ron bought a bit of everything from the snack-witch. Severus was glad to partake in the candy. He failed to see how Hermione’s parents could stand to go without some sugar!





“How is your apprenticeship going, Hermione?”



“Quite well, thank you.”



“I wouldn’t mind being in your place,” Seamus said dreamily.



Severus looked at the boy in surprise. “But you were terrible in Potions. I thought you said you couldn’t wait to get out of that class?”



Seamus shrugged. “I couldn’t help doing poorly, I was always so distracted. I’d love the one-on-one work though.”



Severus raised an eyebrow. He couldn’t figure these Gryffindor boys out. Ron snickered. “Oh, right, Seamus, like you’d be able to pay attention with one-on-one attention with Professor Snape!” He giggled further; Severus said nothing. He was too surprised to hear Ron call him respectfully by his title. Something was up.



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Hagrid greeted the returning students and herded them back across the lake, where Minerva took over and ushered them into the Great Hall for the Return Feast. Severus had been at the end of the line and Minerva held him back, and then drew him into a hidden nook. He twitched when he felt her warm breath dance across his ear. “Many thanks for such a delightfully sinful and useful gift, my dear. You’ll simply have to get away from your apprenticeship one of these evenings so that I can demonstrate it on you.” Severus gulped. ‘Shite! It is one of those kinds of toys. I really do not want to know what it is for!’



“I doubt that Professor Snape will—”



“You let me handle that, Hermione. Now, let’s get to the Feast, shall we?”



Severus jumped when he felt Minerva pinch his arse as he walked past her. He was sure his face was red.



“Oh, and Hermione?” cooed Minerva, before he stepped into the light of the hallway, “I hear that a . . . plug will help prepare you for our evening. Try to get yourself one, dear.”



Severus blanched. He forced himself into the Great Hall simply to prevent a detention. He was no longer hungry.



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Hermione was sitting at the Head Table, bored out of her mind. Another Feast, another evening of inane chatter from her colleagues. She looked at Albus and rolled her eyes. She really did love that man, but since she had inhabited Severus’ body, she could understand why the man walked around with a perpetual frown on his face. Albus could be, well, an idiot, if truth be told, and she knew Severus had no problems in announcing his opinion when and wherever he saw fit. She luxuriated in being able to do the same while she was stuck in this masquerade, unable to tell anyone who she really was. Thanks to Albus. ‘Good job, idiot.’ she muttered disdainfully under her breath.



While pretending to eat her meal – she wasn’t really all that hungry – she surveyed the students. Most of them were in the typical mood of one returning from a good holiday and annoyed at being back at school, but glad to see their friends. Things, however, seemed amiss at the Gryffindor table. At least amongst her friends. Ron was, of course, eating with his usual gusto and was completely oblivious to what was going on around him. Harry and Seamus were talking quite enthusiastically about something and Severus was sitting, not quite sullenly, but more . . . embarrassed? Hermione noted a light blush on his cheeks. What had brought that about? She carefully eyed the room, suspecting Draco or someone else from the Slytherin table at first, but they were not paying a bit of attention to anything but themselves. As her gaze swiveled around, she caught sight of Minerva out of the corner of her eye. Minerva was flushed and overly cheerful for a Feast that wasn’t serving anything stronger than Butterbeer. She gazed thoughtfully at Minerva and then back at Severus. ‘She said something to him, I just know it!’



As soon as students started to drift out of the Great Hall, Hermione swooped down to the Gryffindor table and laid a hand on the back of Severus’ chair.



He turned around so quickly he nearly knocked his chair over; all his usual grace was gone. Hermione quirked an eyebrow at him. “Detention, Miss Granger, with me. In 2 hours. Don’t be late.”



“Detention?” Severus looked up at her in surprise and annoyance. “Whatever for, sir? We just got back!”



Hermione’s lips curled into a sneer. ‘Oh, yes,’ she thought triumphantly, ‘I have the Severus look down pat!’ “Have I ever needed a reason to give a Gryffindor detention?”



Severus’ eyes dropped to the floor, hiding his expression. Inwardly, he was laughing. ‘Who knew that Head Girl Granger would play me off so perfectly?’ he mused to himself.



He opened his mouth –



“And no backtalk or I’ll take points.”



Severus nodded. “Yes, sir, I’ll be at the classroom at 8pm.”



Hermione nodded, “See that you are,” she muttered and then swept silently from the room.





Severus scowled. “Sometimes I hate that bloody git,” he muttered, sure it would be in character for even someone like Hermione, considering that she had ostensibly received detention for merely existing.



Ron’s mouth dropped open, and he dropped the lamb “drumlette” he was holding onto his plate of ribs. “Hermione!” He exclaimed, sounding horrified, “That’s Professor Snape to you!”



Severus gaped at Ron, and then Harry and Seamus who had nodded agreement. “Since when did you three care what I called him?”



The three boys shifted uncomfortably and returned to their meals without answering the question.



Severus frowned. Something was definitely up. He wasn’t sure, however, that he wanted to find out what it was.



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At precisely eight o’clock, Severus rapped on the door to the classroom to keep up pretenses, and then slipped inside. He knew Hermione would be in Severus’ private rooms and immediately checked the lab first before continuing on to his den where he found Hermione resting comfortably in a chair, leaving his favourite one free; a goblet of Firewhiskey awaited him. Severus smiled.



“So,” drawled Hermione, smirking as Severus sighed deeply before taking a sip of his beloved Ogden’s, “how was your break?”



Severus placed the glass down carefully and leaned back in his chair. “It was quite nice; your parents are lovely people. I was quite enjoying myself until in the middle of caroling I was tapped on the shoulder by a younger version of myself who wanted to be affectionate!” Severus’ voice got louder and louder, his cheeks were tinted red and he glared at Hermione who was trying not to smirk.



She got herself under control and apologized to Severus once again. He raised a hand in the air as if he was going to stop her and then shrugged and simply brushed his hair back out of his way. “I hope he wasn’t important to you, Hermione,” he said, a bit sheepishly.



Hermione quirked an eyebrow. “Why?”



“He . . . well, he tried to feel me up and I objected. I told him if he continued I would cut his heart out with a spoon and he was floored but all he managed to reply was ‘why’ and I told him because—”



Severus stopped in amusement when Hermione finished the line.



“It’s dull, you twit. It will hurt more!” She laughed. “That’s priceless, Severus. I love that line but it never would have occurred to me to say it.” She shrugged. “I probably would have just punched him.”



Severus gaped at her in surprise. “I cannot imagine you doing something like that, Hermione!”



She nodded. “No, really – ask Draco about third year.”



Severus raised an eyebrow, but said nothing.



Hermione grinned at her ability to render the Potions Master speechless. In the slightly awkward silence that followed, she stood and moved over to a counter to retrieve a package hidden there. She brought it back and dropped it in Severus’ lap.



“What is the meaning of this?”



“It’s called Christmas, Severus. I didn’t have time to purchase a gift for you before you left. Open it,” she commanded when he simply sat there looking alternately at her and the parcel.



Carefully, Severus pulled the wrapping aside to reveal several books.



Not Dead Yet? A Potion Masters Guide to Poisons by Ethyl Burymore



What Lies Beneath: The Use of Post Mortem Artifacts in Potions by Doug Graves & Barry d’Alive



You Have Such Delicate Fingers . . . May I Eat Them? Quotes for All Occasions by…Candice Decorum



Severus smiled in delight, laughing, no, giggling when he saw the title of the third book. “Not that I give many speeches, that’s Albus’ gig, but I’m sure I can get some good laughs out of it. Merlin knows I could use that at the end of the day. He paused. “Thank you, Hermione, I really appreciate these. You got quite a handful of books yourself from your parents. I think Molly helped them.” There was something else, what was . . . oh, yes, “And some nice dress robes. I pray every day that I will no longer be in your body when the time comes to wear them.”



Unfortunately, for whoever was listening in, Severus had merely said ‘not in your body’. He never specified that he be back in his own by the time Hermione would be wearing her dress robes.



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Severus returned to his room that night feeling more relaxed than he had since the day had began. He had completely forgotten the scary promise made by Minerva. He draped his clothes over the back of a chair, slid into bed, and was fast asleep before Crookshanks even realized he was back.



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On examining his schedule the next morning, he found he had Double Potions first off. He wondered if that had been Hermione’s doing. He shrugged, not really caring, and got ready for class, remembering to shrink all of Hermione’s new books – he’d left his own with her – and add them to his bag. He knew she wanted to read them and it wouldn’t do to have the Potions Master visiting the Head Girl to borrow books. That done, he went and took a luxurious shower, thoroughly enjoying the hot water on his skin. He missed his own body, yet he had become accustomed to Hermione’s smaller frame; embarrassment completely gone by this point – especially since he had been rescued from Minerva’s forays – and could honestly say, though he would fervently deny it to anyone who asked – that he was enjoying himself. Except for the homework of course.



Dried and dressed, he patted Crookshanks on the head and made his way down to breakfast. Most people were not up yet, only a handful of students sat at each table, and a smattering of teachers at the High Table. Severus gulped down a quick breakfast and made off for the dungeons. He wanted to get Hermione’s books to her before class began.



Hermione was in the classroom marking papers. She took the books gratefully and slipped out to drop them in the private lab; Severus waited for her. When she returned, he gestured towards the pre-set lab and asked, “So what exactly will be doing today?”



Hermione sank back into the teacher’s chair. “We’re going to work on the potions we were doing that got us into this mess.” She raised a hand to stop Severus. “No, I don’t expect that we’ll have the same thing happen and be switched back; something tells me we’re just not that lucky. However, as you said yourself, we need these potions in stock and Harry needs to be able to make Polyjuice for his N.E.W.Ts – without my help.”



Severus smirked.







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Class began, and for awhile things went smoothly. But a class that held Harry, Neville, and Draco was not one that would – or could – run smooth for an entire class period. Especially when it was a double class. Trouble was always lurking around Harry, causalities around Neville, and Draco, well, he’d make sure they came to be.



Hermione had her eyes on Harry as he bravely attempted to brew Polyjuice on his own. She had Severus restricted to preparation of the ingredients to give Harry a chance to prove that he knew what he was doing. She knew Severus wouldn’t have any trouble following that order. A knock sounded at the door, and Hermione strode briskly over to it to find Seamus standing at the other side. She glared at him, enjoying how quickly he shrunk away from her.



“Yes, Mr. Finnegan? I believe it is a bit late in the year to try to charm me into joining your classmates – not that you have the O.W.L.s for it anyhow.”



Seamus frowned, but made no reply to the harsh words. He held up a bit of parchment instead. “I have a note for Harry, sir, from Professor McGonagall.”



Hermione sighed. “Well, take it to him, boy and be quick about it or you’ll both be losing points for Gryffindor.”



In the few seconds it took for Seamus to cross the room, Hermione to shut the door, and Severus to feign interest in Harry’s note was all the time Draco needed to toss a full bottle of Boomslang venom into Neville’s cauldron which promptly hissed, frothed, and finally exploded. Seamus and Severus were closest to it – Neville having learned to duck under the table years ago – and were both liberally doused in the volatile mixture.



Both students jumped backwards in an attempt to escape the burning liquid. “Both of you take your robes off immediately!” announced Hermione. “Longbottom, out, just . . . out! Miss Granger, Mr. Finnegan –” she waved her wand at them, clearing away the worst of the mess, “go shower immediately. Merlin only knows how that will react with your skin. Leave your robes. Potter, if your potion was untouched by the explosion, put it in stasis for the next lesson.” Hermione turned on Draco, finding him working as if nothing had happened. “And Mr. Malfoy,” Hermione sneered, “you’ll be serving detention with Filch tonight.”



Draco paled, perhaps remembering his last detention when Filch sent him out to the Forbidden Forest. “But, but Professor,” Draco protested, “I didn’t do anything. You know that Longbottom is a fool in potions!”



Hermione quirked an eyebrow at him and looked to see about the other students. The room had cleared out. She turned back to Draco. “Longbottom’s potion was progressing just fine moments before I turned my back to him. I know you lobbed something –” she examined the evidence in the blasted cauldron, and levitated the now empty bottle out of it. “Merlin, did you have use the whole vial!” Hermione’s voice was low and rough with frustration. “Detention. Tonight. Eight sharp. Do not let me hear that you were late or skipped out on it, or you will be the first Slytherin to lose more than five points from me.” Her voice brooked no room for arguments. “Now, get out.”



Severus fled to the Head Girl’s room, immediately stripping out the rest of his clothes once he was behind closed doors and jumped into the shower. A long bath later, he was redressed and headed to his next class.



Seamus had also run for it, glad that no one was in the dormitory so he wouldn’t have to explain anything, made sure his clothes were in the hamper so that no one else would touch them by mistake and raced into the showers.



Harry had not been doused at all, having been behind Seamus and Hermione, and was currently comforting Neville. “Look, Neville, I know it wasn’t your fault. Hell, even Professor Snape knows that. I wasn’t that far from the classroom when I heard him bellow at Draco! He gave that prat detention – can you believe it?!”



Neville shook his head in wonderment. “I guess he wasn’t really mad at me, then – for once! He just didn’t want anyone around when he chastised Draco.”



“What did Draco toss into your potion anyhow?”



“A vial of Boomslang venom – an entire vial!”



“Wow! I guess we’re lucky nothing worse happened.”



Neville nodded, although he frowned, trying to think of any possible effects that hadn’t been considered. He decided he would take it up with Professor Sprout later.





That night at dinner, Severus seemed restless, poking at his food without much gusto. Seamus seemed agitated as well. Harry looked at his friends with concern. Ron was trying to find out what was up with Seamus, so Harry turned to his other best friend and put a gentle hand on the small of her back. Severus barely reacted, merely turning a weary look on Harry.



“What’s wrong, Hermione,” asked Harry softly. “Did that accident have wider ranging effects than Professor Snape thought?”



Severus shrugged. “There’s no way to know what the effects will be, Harry. I don’t even know what happened.”



Neville looked around Harry. “Draco flung an entire vial of Boomslang venom into my cauldron when no one was looking.”



Severus paled. “An entire vial?” Neville nodded. “How was your potion prior to that?”



Neville blushed faintly. “It was actually good. Professor Snape had just looked at it and said as much . . . well, you know, in his own snarky way.”



Severus’ lips twitched into what might have been a grin.



“I think I am going to go back to my room. I am awfully tired. I’ll see you boys tomorrow.”



Neville stood. “I’ll walk back with you, Hermione. I have some questions for Professor Sprout, and I want to pick up some books from my trunk before I go talk to her.”



Severus nodded in acquiescence. To his surprise, Neville as a friend had proven to be an alright person. Of course, there was the advantage of Neville not being scared out of his wits – hence Severus’ determination that he masters the Wit Sharpening potion, thinking it might help the poor boy – when he was not around any Slytherins. At least, as far as Neville was concerned he was not around any. Imagine the poor boy’s shock if he knew who he had been spending this year with! Severus held back a smirk.



As they approached the Head Girl’s room, which was closer than the Tower, Neville inexplicably grew nervous, despite the fact that there was no one around them.



Severus carefully took down the wards on his door, not a bit worried about Neville watching the process; the boy would never be able to replicate the spells. Neville shifted back and forth on his feet until Severus sighed and asked, “Yes, Neville? Is something wrong?” in the gentlest voice he could manage.



Neville raised his eyes to Severus’, a blush apparent on his slightly round cheeks, and he tentatively placed a hand on the astonished shoulder of the disguised Potions Master.



“He-- Hermione,” Neville began nervously, “I – I’ve really been glad for your friendship over the years. You’ve always been so sweet and helpful to me, no matter how badly I fouled up in Potions!” Severus quirked an eyebrow, wondering where this was going; nothing prepared him for Neville’s next words. “I really like you, Hermione, and since I know why Ron and Harry never . . . well, anyhow, would you be my girlfriend?”



Severus was dumbstruck. ‘At least I know that I am one-hundred percent safe in turning down any males that ask Hermione this!’ He reassured himself of this a couple more times before speaking.



Neville mistook the look of surprise for one of encouragement and leaned closer, intending to kiss his friend.



Severus pulled back in distaste. Complete and utter distaste.



“Mr. Long . . . Neville . . . I don’t . . . LIKE . . . you that way.”



Neville’s eyes opened wide, the hurt obvious, but Severus ploughed ahead, thinking himself well rid of this annoying little boy.



“I don’t like you at all in fact.”



He scowled at the crushed boy so fiercely that for a second, Neville wouldn’t have been at all surprised if he had found out the truth about who was currently living in Hermione’s body. He turned and ran, and Severus slunk inside his room, feeling a twinge of guilt before he shrugged, reset the wards and passed out on his bed, completely worn out.



He could not have let him down easily even if he tried. Or cared. That was just not the Severus Snape way of doing things.





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Ron and Harry walked back with Seamus to find Neville sprawled out on the couch, face red, dried tear tracks obvious on his face.



“Hey, Mate, what’s wrong?”



Neville opened his eyes and peered up at Ron. “I asked Hermione out and she said not only does she not like me that way but she doesn’t like me at all!”



Ron and Harry looked at each other. “That seems . . . rather harsh, even for Hermione in a mood.”



Neville nodded. “I guess it was just pity all these years.” He sniffled.



“I’m sorry, Neville,” Harry said softly. “Do you want some calming draught? I have some upstairs.”



Neville considered. “Okay, I’d like to just sleep tonight and not be aware of anything. That will help.”



Neville’s decision turned out to be a good one.



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Several hours later, had anyone been awake in the seventh year Gryffindor boys dorm, they would have seen a brilliant flash of silver light mingled with gold encase Seamus’ body and then shimmer as the silver absorbed into him. The gold hovered and then popped out. An intelligent familiar elsewhere in the castle jumped in alarm as his new mistress was incased in gold light that sank into her body. The cat’s ears twitched in unease.





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Not long after, Ron and Harry snuck upstairs to the dormitory, arms full of pilfered treats from the kitchens: honey, chocolate syrup, whipped cream . . .



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Severus was dreaming he was back in his own body, deftly brewing an intricate potion in his private labs. Although his mind was always his own, this was the first he had dreamt of being in his own, male body since this whole mix-up began. He stretched luxuriously, feeling his joints pop as his sinewy muscles stretched and his bones slipped into place, working all the kinks out of his system.



As he worked, he felt something on his shoulder and he brushed it off. Then it was on his leg, moving up his thigh. He brushed at the tickling feeling again in annoyance. Couldn’t he work in peace, even in his dreams?



Severus turned over in his sleep, and the ticklish feeling intensified, moving up his chest, over his nipples and towards his face. A hand ran back and forth over his nipples again, squeezing gently. He shuddered as waves of excitement flooded through him. He heard a moan echo through the room. ‘Merlin, was that him?’ He twitched, brain creeping into consciousness as he felt a rush of warm air by his ear.



“Wake up,” came the whispered plea as his eyelids fluttered open. He must have switched into a nightmare, for it was the only explanation his drowsy mind could come up with as he stared at the all too familiar pairs of eyes. He sat up in alarm.



That was when he realized he was no longer in Hermione’s room.



Severus opened his eyes and found two sets of eyes watching him. He sat up in alarm. ‘What the bloody hell? I know I reset the wards!’



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And the eyes watching him belonged to none other than Harry Potter and Ron Weasley.

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And he was completely starkers. ‘Where the bloody hell are my clothes?’





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The ticklish feeling returned, followed by a warm wetness and Severus realized Harry was gently stroking his thighs while Ron squeezed a generous amount of chocolate syrup over his shoulders.



He could find no words suitable for this situation and simply stared as Harry leaned forward and kissed him on the lips.



“We were wondering when you were going to wake-up.”



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“Tell me where the wig is and I will play Severus tonight.”



Severus started in terror. ‘Wig?!’



‘Play Severus?!’