Much Ado about Nothing

Much Ado About Nothing


By: Max

[Disclaimer: see chapter 1]

Author’s note: The inspiration for Hermione’s animagnus form I got from Kalina Lea and her wonderful story “The buried life”. You can find it at her website or at ff.net (just look at my favourites) and if you haven’t read it yet - do so. It’s worth your while!

And another, less pleasant note: The next updaill ill need a few days because the next five chapters are with my wonderful beta-reader. And sometimes she\'s got a real life and a few duties to fulfill there ...




Chapter 5: Dog’s days


O, you ugly child of Hades!
The entire house will drown!
Everywhere I look, I see
water, water running down.
Be you damned, old broom
why won’t you obey?

Is the end
not in sight?
I will grab you,
hold you tight,
with my axe I’ll split the brittle
old wood smartly down the middle.

“The Sorcerer’s Apprentice” by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe,
Translation by Brigitte Dubiel



“I really don’t understand why you’re so reluctant about becoming a dog,” Albus said, leaning back in his chair and crossing his long legs under the light, white robe he was wearing. “I’m sure one can have a lot of fun as a puppy.”

Hermione, standing in front of the mattress, slipped out of her jeand thd throw them on the sofa. “I’m sorry for not showing more enthusiasm,” she growled. “But I really don’t get what this animagus form will be good for. It’s not big enough that I could protect some one; it doesn’t give me abilities like climbing trees or flying like Minerva and you get from your animagi forms, and I’m even too tiny to run quickly! Besides, I seem to be the clumsiest dog alive. I simply can’t sort out allthesthese legs. Whenever I manage to use one pair right, the other is slipping and then I’m falling on my nose.”

Albus sighed. “Hermione, you’re too impatient. You’ve only changed twice - you can’t already be used to your dog body. It took me almost a year until I could fly properly. When I was learning I fell from every single tree in the garden. My mother called me ‘Stoney’ because I showed the flying abilities of a stone. So please give yourself time. Change and then let’s play a bit in the garden. You simply need practise.”

Hermione, now without her jeans and shirt, opened her bra, rolling her eyes. “In the garden? Wonderful idea - if you tell me how I’m going to get down there. Last time I tried stairs I became a ball and rolled down. It hurt!”

“Hermione …” Albus had - as always when Hermione undressed - taken his spectacles down.houthout them his sight was so blurry he couldn’t make out more then a small, light form. “If you stop whining now, I’ll promise to carry you down all the stairs in the house and the garden as long as you need me to. But now do me a favour: Change! It’s such a pleasant morning. I’dlly lly hate to waste it indoors.”

Hermione lay down on the mattress, turned on her stomach and closed her eyes. “Your wish is my command, master.”

“In my dreams!” Albus commented shortly. “Ready?”

“Yes.” Hermione tried to relax. She actually liked that he accompanied her with legilemency through the transformation. She knew that it wat net necessary - most transfiguration masters weren’t legilemens, too. But Albus was and his presence in her mind gave her a sense of security. She knew if something would go wrong - and animagus transformation was dangerous!one one messed it up, one could easily become a patient at St. Mungos for a few months - he would react immediately, and she trusted in his ability to solve every magical problem.

Besides, his presence in her mind felt wonderful. It was as if his strength and warmth embraced her entire being, wrapping it in tenderness. Never, not with her parents, not with her friends, and even not in her best moments with Victor, she’d felt so entirely accepted.

The curious girl that Hermione was, she sometimes wondered if legilimency - when done without force by the legilimens and without blocking by the receiving partner - always felt so lovely. But she didn’t ask Albus. She feared his answer would destroy the magic of the moment and, actually, she liked the idea that she shared a special bond with him too much to spoil it.

“Legilimens!” His voice was soft as always when he cast the spell, not more then a whisper.

Hermione immediately felt his familiar presence. Now it was easy to relax. With him being close she felt at ease.

As always the first sign of the transformation was her sense of smelcomicoming sharper. She could smell the sea now, the flowers in the garden and Albus - not only lemon drops and the rosemary shampoo he used, but the coffee he’d drunk half an hour ago at breakfast, the marmalade he’d eaten, the lavender the house elves hung in his wardrobe and something more - the fragrance of a strong, hhy, hy, human male.

Hermione needed will power not to lose herself in this symphony of fragrances. She concentrated and then she felt how her body shrank, how her hands and feet became paws and how the fur grew through her skin. This part of the transfiguration she didn’t like much. The growing of the fur prickled and her muscles always felt as compressed through too small a shaft.

But now she was done, and she noticed how Albus cut the connection. He’d explained her that it was almost impossible for an untrained animagus to keep its mental shields up. If he would remain in her mind, she’d flood him with her memories and thoughts. Considering she’d thought about his qualities as a lover only a few days before, she actually wasn’t keen on that.

Coming around his desk, he knelt down at her side and scratched behind her right - the black - ear. “Hello, Puppy. Nice to see you again. Shall we go outside for a little play?”

Hermione tried to wag her tail, but her coordination still wasn’t good enough. Instead of just the tail she felt herself wagging her entire butt - and this with so much force she almost fell to the side.

Albus laughed. “It seems you need a bit more practise on this, too.” He rose and marched to the door.

Hermione rushed to follow him, but the polished wooden floor of the study wasn’t easy to master on paws. And the marble in the hall was even more slippery. She felt herself suddenly slide, and then she tumbled forwards against a wooden trunk, hurting her shoulder.

Her whining made Albus turned around. “Poor puppy!” he said, bent down and picked her up. Putting her on his left forearm, he stroked her with his right hand. “Don’t give up. It will become better with every hour you spend in this form,” he promised her, carrying her downstairs and out on the terrace in the garden, carefully setting her down in the soft grass. “So - that’s better, isn’t it?”

He was right. Walking in the grass was much easier and the light tickle on her belly was nice, and there were so many fascinating smells! With her nose close to the ground, Hermione followed an especially interesting fragrance and found herself, after a few steps, in front of fresh mole hole. She simply couldn’t resist sniffing at it - and then she had to dig in the warm soil, using her front paws for it. Huh - this was fun! By working quickly with both her front paws, she made the soil fly around her ears and managed to deepen the hole so much that she couldn’t only put her nose in it, but her entire head. But the mole had obviously noticed she was digging and had disappeared. Hermione couldn’t smell it anymore and raised her head, disappointed.

Looking around, she saw Albus. He leaned against a chestnut tree a few steps away, playing with a branch he’d found. The branch looked tempting. Hermione marched to Albus, trying to catch the end of the branch with her teeth. He let her and she dug her sharp teeth into the wood, growling at it and shaking her head. Albus laughed and started to tease her, pulling the branch and lifting it. Hermione didn’t let go. She rose and stretched as best as she could, balancing on her rear legs. But Albus was stronger. He managed to shake her away and, lifting the branch, he threw it away. Hermione immediately stormed after it - and yes, this really was great fun. The dog body of hers - it was strong and it felt wonderful to move, and oops! - she shouldn’t have tried to move her rear legs quicker as her front legs. Now she was tumbling through the grass. But she sorted out her legs and rose up again, sniffing at the grass - yes, there, only a few feet away, lay the branch. She barked with delight, biting at the wood, chewing on it - it really tasted interesting - then she took it in her mouth and trotted back to Albus, wagging her butt and feeling proud.

“Good puppy!” he praised her as she laid the branch in t oft of his bare feet. With the nose she nudged his leg - she wanted him to throw the branch again.

Lazily he crooked a finger and levitated her toy with it. Hermione’s eyes followed and when he had the branch in his hand, she jumped at it. Albus laughed. “Not bad! Considered your size you’re good at jumping.” Hermione, who’d managed to get the branch out of his hand, chewed happily at it.

Albus levitated it again and threw it. Hermione started after it and this time she managed to catch the wood in its flight. Only she’d been a bit too quick and so she rolled again through the grass.

She heard Albus laugh and to show him that she was in too good a mood to mind, she barked and, with the branch between her teeth, ran back to him. This time he bent down and patted her affectionately on the back as sppropproached him. “Didn’t I promise you’d have fun?”

He’d just finished his sentence as Hermione heard the “plop” of an apparition. Hermione didn’t need to turn around and to look e kne knew who the new arrival was. The noseful of heavy patchouli and oriental rose perfume had told her, and she had to fight with her human discipline against her carnal need to whine.

Aurelia Willington’s sharp voice made Hermione cringe. Ducking in the grass, she heard the blonde witch say: “So much about my thinking only an important task would keep you too busy to contact me, Albus.”

Hermione raised her head. If it hadn’t been for the heavy fragrance and the shrillness of the lady’s voice, it would have been funny to watch how her ranting made Albus suddenly look like a defiant boy.

“I thought you perhaps prolonged your stay in Egypt,” he tried to defend himself.

“Ah - and animal lover as you are, you didn’t want to bother a poor owl with flying that far? How nice of you!”

Hermione could sense the rage of the woman. It was - at least for a dog - almost tangible. Hermione felt oddly moved by it. Her canine instinct wanted to bark at the blonde witch or - even better - to bite her. Her anger was directed against Hermione’s master - and wasn’t she to protect him? Yet human Hermione felt almost something like satisfaction. She’d never liked Aurelia Willington and she’d never understood why Albus was with her. For this he deserved to be ranted at, Hermione thought. Only she wasn’t too keen to witness thene ane and so she tried to move away, still half-hidden by the high grass. Unfortunately Aurelia Willington noticed it, and directing her icy gaze at the puppy, she sneered: “Oh, how lovely!” She spat the last word out as if it meant something especially nasty. “You’ve got yourself another pet! And with you one must be thankful for small mercies--at least it isn’t something as ghastly as this abysmal bird of yours!”

Now Hermione really had to fight hard against her desire to bite the witch in front of her in the leg. Insulting Albus was one thing - he at least deserved it for being so stupid to start an affair with this bitch! But insulting Fawkes was the other. The phoenix had saved Hermione’s life, he’d healed her and she loved him.

She couldn’t resist any longer. She growled and showed her teeth. The effect wasn’t too bad. Madame became jumpy - hopping away and keeping her skirt in her hands, she ranted at Albus: “Why am I not surprised about the behaviour of your dog? It’s yours – ergo, one can’t expect manners …” She didn’t get a chance to finish her sentence. Just at that moment Fawkes - who actually was still sulking at Albus - had appeared in the tree just over Aurelia Willington. Crackling malicious, he relieved himself. Only one inch away from the lady a not-too-small portion of fluorescent, strong-smelling phoenix excrement splattered in the grass.

Aurelia Willington jumped in the air, squeaking an infuriated “ALBUS!”. Coming down on the ground again, she yelled: “Do something!”

“Yes …” Hermione saw that the corner of his mouth twitched. “I think I should get you indoors.”

“And this infernal bird? You’ll have to punish it!” demanded the furious witch.

Albus directed his gaze at Fawkes who looked on his branch, innocence incorporated. “I don’t think so,” Albus said softly. “I hardly can punish him for following the call of nature, you know?”

Unfortunately, this was the wrong cue for Hermione. The two cups of coffee she’d had at breakfast were obviously too much for her little dog bladder. Yet she certainly didn’t intend to pee in her dog form. Longingly she looked at the house to which Albus and Madame were now walking. Hermione knew she wasn’t needed now, but she couldn’t help it. On her own she wouldn’t manage the ten steps up to the terrace. And changing back in her human form was an option neither - she really didn’t want to show herself in her naked boniness in front of Madame Willington.

So here was no other way than to run after Albus, whining softly when she got to the stairs. Luckily, he heard her and interrupting his attempts to calm down his still furious mistress, he bent down to pick up the little terrier. “Sorry,” he said by doing so. “The puppy is too young to climb up stairs on her own.”

“But you don’t intend to take it with you indoors?” Aurelia Willington looked at puppy-Hermione as if she’d expect her to host the international flea conference with 1000 guests from 50 different countries. “If it’s too young to climb stairs it’s certainly not house-trained yet.”

“Actually she is,” Albus answered grinning. Setting Hermione down on the terrace, he proceeded: “But if you don’t like it in the house …”

Hermione was glad to be on her legs and the terrace. Now she only had to sneak through one of the French windows, to run in the study where her clothes waited and to change back, then she could go upstairs to her bathroom and everything would be fine again.

Only the sneaking in part wasn’t as easy as she’d thought because Madame had now decided that she wanted to have tea on the terrace. Hermione hid and waited. Hopefully, in a few minutes, the witch would become so distracted with arguing - her voice was already becoming shrill again - that she wouldn’t watch the puppy anymore.

Hermione waited – and, in fact, the argument between her master and his hopefully-soon-to-be-ex-girlfriend became more heated with every line one or the other uttered. Now Aurelia was accusing him of flirting with a waitress in the Egyptian hotel. He told her the accusation was “ridiculous”, he’d only been polite to the girl to make up for Aurelia threatening her.

Hermione thought this the right moment to try. Crawling slowly behind the chairs - and yes, Madame wasn’t watching her because she was too busy staring daggers at Albus - she looked at the open French window, jumped forward - and collided with the house elf who just came outside with a tray. China shattered, the silver tea pot bounced noisily over the terrace and Hermione found herself standing with one of her rear legs in the strawberry cake.

The sight of it obviously wasn’t to Aurelia Willington’s liking. Becoming even more thin-lipped than before, she said icily: “Really, Albus - your pets’ manners are even worse then yours!”

Albus was already on his feet. Pulling his wand out, he used a quick spell to clear away the mess and looked at the shocked house elf. “Are you hurt, Winny?”

“No, master! Winny only was surprised,” the elf squeaked and looked accusingly at Hermione.

“I’ll look after the puppy, Winny. If you would be so good to get us a new tray?” Albus asked the elf.

“With pleasure, master!” The elf bowed and disappeared.

“Sit, Puppy!” Albus commanded.

Hermione obeyed, but whined. She really, really needed to pee soon! But now the blonde witch watched her closely. Hermione, knowing she couldn’t make it into the house as long as Aurelia Willington was watching her, started cleaning her sticky rear leg, discovering that strawberry pie still tasted nice when licked out of fur.

It was once again Fawkes who came to Hermione’s salvatiCackCackling maliciously, he suddenly soared in a deep dive over the terrace, almost touching Aurelia Willington’s head with his claws. Settling himself down on the roof near the tea table, he made the blonde witch jump again. “Albus, your menagerie is driving me crazy! Please, let’s go indoors!” she declared.

Hermione felt like kissing Fawkes as Albus and Aurelia stepped through the door. Now she had a chance! She’d only have to wait until they both had settled comfortably - or as comfortable one could become in the company of a furious blonde Valkyrie - in the living room, then she could sneak in.

Two minutes passed. Hermione stood up and slowly went to the French window, looking in the living room. To her shock she found it empty, but looking about she saw the door to the study was open and now she could hear voices from there. Albus just tried to explain that he’d never meant to cause Aurelia any pain and regretted having hurt her.

“Great!” Hermione thought. He was now obviously using his baby blue eyes and his charm to talk himself out of trouble - and she knew him well enough to be sure he wouldn’t stop doing so the next five minutes which meant: Hermione wouldn’t have a chance to get her clothes. She only could hope that Albus had thought of hiding them.

But not having her clothes meant that she would hav cli climb the stairs in her dog form. And knowing that this would be no picnic, she decided to start immediately. So she trotted through the living room into the hall - at least she had so enough luck to find the door open! - and started to run up the marble stairs, hoping, that with speed she’d manage.

She was wrong. The first steps were easier than she’d imagined and that encouraged her to hop even more quickly up the next few. But then she slipped on the smooth surface and before she could help herself she tumbled down the stairs again, bumping against the huge flower pot with the big palm which stood on the right side of the landing. The palm in it began to shake, Albus great-grandmother, a very severe-looking Nordic blonde who had suited her name “Bruenhilde” very much, waked up and yelled, infuriated: “ALBUS!” and then ranted loudly about “the brat” never being there when in demand. And in her times children were well behaved and quiet, yes, they were! Because in her time they’d got a severe beating when behaving like her great-grandson always did and he really was a spoiled brat and if she only were alive, she’d show him …

The rest of her ranting was drowned by the noise the palm made by tipping over and taking out a big vase full of flowers which had stood on the table next to it. The noise was deafening and Hermione, sitting where the palm had been only a few seconds before, jumped in the air. Nevertheless she heard Albus’ mother, whose portrait hung over the table in the hall, rebuking her grandmother-in-law that her son was not a “brat” and Albus’ father, hanging opposite of his wife, saying philosophically: “One can’t have children without a little noise in the house …” But the loudest voice belonged to some one living - Aurelia Willington was yelling on the top of her lung: “I’m in a madhouse!”

Albus was already in the hall. Bending down to Hermione who just took stock of her aching bones, he looked worried. “Are you injured?”

Hermione tiredly wagged her tail. She felt as if she’d just been trampled over by a hippogriff. “Poor Puppy!” Albus took her up and her comfortingly against his chest. “This really isn’t your day!” With his free hand once again he pulled his wand out and cleaned the mess before he walked - with Hermione still in his arm - back into his study where Aurelia Willington sat on the sofa, impatiently fumbling on her sleeve.

“I’m sorry, Aurelia - Puppy fell down the stairs,” Albus said, seating down on the chair at his desk, putting Hermione in his.
.

“I’d be most grateful if I now would get - at last! - a chance to talk for a few minutes with you without being disturbed by one of your pets!” snorted Aurelia Willington.

Albus stroked Hermione’s back. “That’s why I’ll keep puppy on my lap now,” he said calmly.

Hermione would have liked lying in his lap - she certainly needed a bit comfort and warmth after the fall. If only her bladder hadn’t been so full! She knew she couldn’t stand it much longer, but how was she to get away? Her brain worked in overdrive - and suddenly she had an idea: Albus had taught her legilimency, hadn’t he? And she wasn’t too bad at it. Although she never managed to overcome the wards he’d built around his consciousness - she was able to send thoughts directly in his mind. And the closer she was to him, the easier it became. Sitting in his lap was very close - and turning around, nudging her nose against his belly and looking then up at him, she even could look in his eyes. Concentrating on him, she thought of the spell and could already feel his familiar brightness and so she concentrated harder and thought: “I have to …”

She couldn’t finish the thought. She suddenly felt how her limbs stretched and her sight became blurry. The connection to Albus broke off and although Hermione tried - she couldn’t stop her body changing back in its human form. And with her skin prickling while the fur disappeared she had to struggle for breath, feeling for a moment so dizzy she could only lean her head against Albus’ chest and hoping to get clear-headed soon.

He obviously wasn’t surprised. Still stroking her back he smiled at her and opened his mouth to say something.

A shrill, infuriated “ALBUS!” from the sofa made him close his mouth again.

In the same moment Hermione became aware of two facts: First, she sat naked on her master’s lap. And second, she still urgently needed to pee! So she jumped to her feet and, looking at Madame, shrugged her shoulders and said, “Sorry …”

Sprinting out of the study and through the hall, she ran upstairs - accompanied by Albus’ great-grandmother screaming “What’s your impossible son done now, Eleonara?” - and to her bathroom where she at last found relief. Washing her hands afterwards, she heard Aurelia Willington’s voice.

She sounded like one of the famous howlers Molly Weasley had used to send her son. “I’ve never in my entire life been as insulted and humiliated as by you, Albus Dumbledore!” In her rage she was far away from acting the lady anymore, instead she showed her temper like an Italian market woman. “Cheating on me with this plain, bony nothing! But probably she knows a few special tricks? Or is she especially good in doing it doggy style? And here I wondered why you refused to sleep with me in Egypt! You were already involved with her, weren’t you? Oh - you’re such a lecherous old bastard! Bedding your apprentice! Fucking a chick who easily could be your granddaughter! Don’t dare you to come ever close to me again, you debauched pervert! I could kill you and your little mudblood whore!”

Now Albus’ voice, thundering through the entire house: “Enough, Aurelia! You may insult me as long as you want, but I forbid you to insult Doctor Granger! She is not my mistress!”

“Liar! Do you really believe I didn’t notice how the little bitch looks at you? And she obviously is very much used to being on your lap, isn’t she? That’s why you didn’t like me performing oral sex on you! Your bitch is better at it, isn’t she? As a dog she is good with her tongue …”

“Aurelia! Stop it - or I’ll make you stop!” Albus’ voice again, sounding cold and determined.

“How do you plan to do tha …”

For 30 seconds Hermione heard nothing anymore. Then the sound of something hitting flesh and bone, and Albus’ yelling “Ouch!” Once again silence - then she heard him, sounding oddly muffled: “Don’t bother keeping in touch! I won’t certainly call you!” She counted to three, then Hermione heard his steps in the hall and coming up the stairs.

Quickly she slipped into her dressing gown and marched out to the upper hall. “I’m sorry, Al …” Seeing him she closed her mouth. He held his nose with one hand, blood dripping through his fingers and soaking his white robe. “Sweet Merlin - what did that fury do to you?” Running to him, Hermione took his elbow. “Let me help you!”

“Thanks!” His voice was much muffled now.

Hermione led him in her room and to the bed. “Lay down - I’ll get you a towel!” She ran in the bathroom, pulling a towel out of the closet. Rushing back to the bed where he still sat she pushed him on his back. “Lie down - and let me have a look.”

With a moan he laid back and took his hand away. His nose was bleeding heavily and Hermione saw that it had already started to swell. As cautcautiously tried to dry up the blood, he moaned again. “Hell - why is it always my nose the ladies are using for a target?”

“Is it? I’ve heard it was your eye last time …” Hermione couldn’t resist a grin.

“Damn …” He touched his nose. “I’m afraid it’s broken again.”

“Hush!” Hermione pushed his hand away and gently brushed her finger tips over his nose. “Oh, oh …” She looked in his eyes. “It seems you’re right. It feels broken. You’ll need a healer. Shall I call Poppy?”

“She isn’t at Hogwarts. Try St. Mungo’s.” Albus kept the towel against his still bleeding nose.

Hermione sighed. She felt a bit guilty - if she hadn’t changed at the wrong moment he wouldn’t have been punched. “I’m sorry, Albus.”

“What for? You didn’t break my nose.”

“Nevertheless … but you need a healer. Just a moment …”

*********************************


“And this woman really punched him so hard she broke his nose?” Minerva sounded more then a little disgusted. “And she names herself a lady! But on the other hand …” Minerva started giggling. “Getting rid off her certainly is worth a broken nose!”

“I think Albus would agree!” Hermione said smiling. “The next few days after he sounded a bit muffled and he looked like a clown with his nose being so red and swollen - but he didn’t give the impression of some one heartbroken. Quite the contrary.”

Minerva took a cucumber sandwich from the plate that stood on the table in front of the fire in the Hogwarts staff room. “If he’d become heartbroken by separating from this lady, I’d have seriously doubted his sanity …” Biting into the sandwich, she added thoughtfully: “Or better said, I’d have thought his insanity was reaching a new peak. His taste in women was mostly rather peculiar.”

“Hah - you’re gossiping about our dear employer!” A friendly voice came from the background. Dee Sprout, the short round Herbology professor had just entered the staff room where Hermione and Minerva were having their tea.

Minerva patted on the free space next to her on the sofa. “Sit down, Sprouty. We thought your creeper daisies had gotten you.”

Dee Sprout sat down and poured herself a cup of tea. Sipping at it, she sighed contently. “Girls - I must say it’s nice to be back. Holidays are fine and I’ve enjoyed the summer very much. But the last few days I’ve started to miss you and I’ve longed for the newest gossip. So tell me all about your holidays!”

Minerva patted her colleague’s arm affectionately. “I’ve missed you, too. And …” she smiled at Hermione, “… you could have written a bit more often!”

Hermione sighed. “Yes, I know, Minerva, I know. I actually wanted to, but Albus kept me pretty busy.”

Dee Sprout got herself a muffin. Buttering it, she grinned. “I’d have thought he’d been kept busy by his itch.”

“Itch?” Hermione wasn’t sure she’d understood right.

Minerva and Dee laughed. “You got it right, Hermione. Itch,” Minerva said.

“The idiom is an invention of Rolanda Hooch,” explained Dee Sprout. “She says with Albus’ lady friends one never knows if they’re bitches or witches. Therefore she calls them ‘Albus’ itches’.”

Hermione laughed out loud. “Itch indeed! The days after Madame Willington broke his nose he sometimes complained it itched.”

“Small wonder. Broken bones mostly do during healing,” Minerva commented dryly.

“Broken nose?” Dee Sprout’s nose twitched like a dog’s when smelling a steak. “He got his nose broken again? By Aurelia Willington?”

Once again Minerva giggled. “Madame got pretty mad at him after she saw him with Hermione - who incidentally was wearing nothing more than her pretty skin - in his lap.”

“Huh?” Dee looked at Hermione and grinned. “Do I want to know the entire story or would it give me bad dreams?”

“Having three fresh bottles of dreamless sleep potion at my store, I’d like to hear the entire tale with all gory details!” Poppy Pomfrey, the mediwitch at Hogwarts, had arrived at the tea table, too. Sitting down in a free chair, she looked expectantly at Hermione. “Did you give our dear headmaster’s broomstick a workout, dear?”

“No!” Hermione cried. “It was absolutely harmless and perfectly innocent!”

“A naked woman in Albus’ lap absolutely harmless and perfectly innocent? That’s a first - or is he really getting old now?” Poppy looked rather amused. “Anyway - I want to hear the entire story!”

Hermione sighed, but started to tell. It was the third time shed done so - a few days before she’d told Ginny, and this morning, after coming back to Hogwarts, she’d given Minerva a detailed report of her holidays. So, to her, the story wasn’t that exciting anymore, though she understood why it sent Poppy and Dee in fits of giggles and laughter.

Dee had to wipe tears from her friendly, round face as Hermione finished, and still giggling, she cried, “I’d have paid 20 Galleons to see Aurelia Willington’s face when the sweet puppy suddenly became a naked woman.”

“I’d given 50 to have seen Albus,” Poppy added. “Him at a loss for words - that must have been something like a historic moment. But ladies …,” she grinned mischievously, “… I witnessed today another moment of historic grandness. It was actually even better than Albus speechless. I saw Severus smile!”

“Uuuh!” Hermione shuddered. “Don’t frighten me! Severus smiling can only mean he’s up to something terrible.”

“I’d say he’s already done it,” Minerva stated dryly. “He obviously made Nymphadora Tonks suffer a fate much more pleasant than death.”

“How do you know?” Poppy wanted to know.

“I couldn’t sleep last night,” Minerva told. “So I changed in my cat form and sneaked down in the kitchen …”

“Ah - you were after the cream pot again, weren’t you?” Dee sighed. “I really envy you. If I’d have as much cream as you, I’d become as round as a barrel. But you’re always keeping your shape.”

“It’s her animagus metabolism,” Poppy sighed too. “But what did you see on your way down, Minerva?”

“Tonks,” Minerva said dryly. “Tonks wearing only very long black hair and a smile, just knocking on Severus’ door. He opened - and he didn’t wear any more then her and with his hair not being so long as hers …”

“Icks!” Hermione made a face.” I don’t want to imagine that! I really don’t want …”

“I wouldn’t mind seeing Severus without clothes,” Dee said. “He’s got a nice bum.”

Minerva and Hermione looked at her, stunned. Minerva was the one who then asked, “How do you know that with him always wearing this bat robes?”

“In the greenhouse he sometimes works without them,” Dee explained. “Besides, it is said that Slytherins were great lovers - subtle and with a lot of finesse …”

Hermione shuddered again. “Do you remember Crabbe and Goyle? They were Slytherins in my year. I always thought they should be stuffed and exhibited at a museum - as proof for Darwin’s theory that humans are descendants from apes. To me they both always looked like the famous missing link.”

“But they weren’t typical Slytherins,” Minerva said. “As little affection I normally hold for the lot of them - the most of the typical Slytherins are far away from being daft.”

“Albus and Severus certainly aren’t,” Poppy said. “As tiresome Albus can be and as antisocial our dear potion master is - the both possess brilliant minds.”

“One moment please!” Hermione raised a hand, looking absolutely flabbergasted. “I never knew Albus was a Slytherin. I’ve always thought he was a Gryffindor,” she cried.

“Albus?” Poppy laughed. “A Gryffindor? How did you come by such an idea?”

“A lot of people think of him as a Gryffindor,” Minerva said. “Probably they mix up transfiguration teacher and head of Gryffindor. With the exception of Albus, the last four transfiguration teachers were Gryffindor housemasters, too, and …,” she looked at Hermione, “… we’ll keep up with the tradition when I retire, won’t we? But - with all due respect for our headmaster, he’s a pretty typical Slytherin.”

Hermione swallowed. She’d always thought herself above the petty house rivalry, but even so, she was a proud Gryffindor and she’d never met a Slytherin she’d really liked. She’d learned to respect Severus Snape for his courage and his brilliant intelligence; she’d even managed to be civil with him, but she still detested the way he treated his pupils. Ginny had hit the nail on the head when she’d said a few weeks before, “The best possible relationship with one of this lot means probably you’re able to stand his company for more then five minutes without wishing to hex him back under the stone he crawled out from under.”

Obviously there were exceptions to this rule. Hermione couldn’t just bear Albus - he’d become her trusted friend, her confidant, her comrade, and in the last weeks … no, she actually didn’t want to think about that. It was enough she felt so close to him.

But to think of him as a Slytherin! She swallowed again and slowly she said: “He never mentioned it.” She felt a bit disappointed now - as if he’d kept something important away from her.

“Of course he didn’t,” Minerva said crisp. “He’s the headmaster and supposed to stand above the house rivalry and the belonging to a house. He represents all four houses of Hogwarts. But even I, as a Gryffindor, was always glad that he we had a Slytherin for a headmaster during the war against Voldemort.”

“Who had been a Slytherin, too,” Hermione said thoughtfully. #822#8220;Yes.” Minerva nodded, suddenly looking sad.

“One of Albus’ students. He was in Slytherin during the time Albus was Head of Slytherin.” Poppy poured herself another cup of tea. “Admittedly, He was already in his sixth year when Albus took the house over from Uriel Bosworth - who was probably the nastiest piece who ever became housemaster at Hogwarts.”

Minerva shuddered. “I actually found Albus’ successor even worse. Compared to Jullus Lestrange, Severus is charming.”

“Brrr!” Poppy slung her arms around herself. “Don’t remind me of Lestrange! I was once in a detention with him and he almost frightened the living daylights out of me! He always stood close behind me and he tried to touch me and he talked about the ‘joys of submission’ …”

“He obviously got them with Bellatrix Black,” Minerva said dryly. “Albus was too much of a gentleman to tell me all the details of how he found her in Lestrange’s bedroom, but even the few hints he gave me made for a nightmare.”

“Slytherins,” Poppy said, shrugging her shoulders. “They just don’t come mediocre. If good they’re overwhelmingly so - like Albus and Severus. If bad, they’re evil - like Lestrange and Voldemort.”

Minerva swallowed. “Do you remember the day Albus learned thard Vrd Voldemort was in fact his former student Tom Malvolio Riddle, Poppy? He was devastated …”

“Oh yes.” Poppy almost whispered. Looking at Hermione, she quietly said, “I don’t want to know how much he suffered knowing that. Alastor, Minerva, Augustus, and I needed days to persuade him to stay. He wanted to retire because he felt like an absolute failure. And when Severus took the dark mark …”

Minerva nodded gravely. “He’d always loved the boy like a son. But Severus wasn’t ready to be loved. He probably was terrified by it. Yet he almost broke Albus’ heart. It was only his sense of duty that kept him going for the next months, but …” She fell silent again.

Poppy took over. “Minerva always had ranted about Albus’ pranks and his playfulness. But in the 11 months before Severus found his way back …”

“… I sometimes thought I’d eat an entire pound of lemon drops at once if only it would make Albus twinkle once,” Minerva said.

Poppy smiled, but her eyes were still serious. “Minerva even once tried to get him out of his depression in playing match-maker. She got an old love of his back …”

“It helped!” Minerva said energetic. “When Francesca was there, he ate and slept properly.”

Now Poppy giggled again. “About sleeping I’m not so sure, Minerva. But at least he went to bed instead of wandering through the castle all night.”

“By the way, while we’re talking about our dear headmaster,” Dee Sprout said now. “Where is he? I haven’t seen him all day. Isn’t he back yet?”

“He is,” Hermione answered. “We came together this morning. But since then I haven’t seen him either. I suppose he’s in his office.”

“No, he isn’t.” Minerva smiled. “At the moment, he’s showing our new colleagues their classrooms.”

“I wouldn’t mind he’d show the new colleagues the staffroom, too,” Dee Sprout said with an almost dreamily expression. “The young man who’s deputizing for Vector during his sabbatical is - at least in the appearance department - quite an improvement for the staff. I saw him in the hall before I came here -ery ery handsome man.”

“This young German Albus got for charms isn’t ugly either,” Poppy said. “He came to me yesterday because he’d cut his finger when unpacking. He looks like young Siegfried in baroque: Blond curls, baby blue eyes, broad shoulders, a bit round, but a dashing smile and a real nice voice. I wouldn’t mind tending to him more often.”

“Ladies!” Minerva sounded severe. “You’re married - or soon to be married!”

“That doesn’t make me blind!” Poppy laughed. “Besides, Hermione isn’t married. She’ll certainly enjoy having two nice young men around.”

Hermione shrugged her shoulders. “I’m actually pretty busy. Besides, I knew our arithmancy deputy. Titus Ollivander was in Ravenclaw - two years my senior. I never liked him much. He always seemed to think of himself as the gods gift to womanhood.”

“That runs in his family,” Minerva said. “His father - you know Algernon Olliva, He, Hermione, do you? The wandmaker? - was a Slytherin in my time - and he found himself always the salt of the earth, too.”

“Uuuh!” Hermione’s eyebrows almost reached her hairline. “I only saw him once - and I couldn’t say I’d like to see him again.”

“Algernon Ollivander is a lecherous old bastard,” Poppy stated coldly. “When he learned that his only son didn’t want to become a wandmaker, he divorced his wife of 52 years and got himself an 18-year-old-girl who’d worked in a bar at Knockturn Alley. And I’d say he’d only waited to find a reason for divorcing his wife!”

“She’s better off without that man,” Dee said. “Yet, the son really doesn’t look bad.”

Minerva sighed. “And with the new charm teacher looking like young Siegfried, we’re now in for a tough year again.”

“Oh, yes!” Poppy joined her friend in sighing. “Children, buy combs - we’re expecting lousy times!”

“I’d rather say, let’s buy 10 dozen handkerchiefs - and the bill goes to Albus!” Minerva said. “He’s always the one who puts the match in the powder factory.”

“Perhaps we should send the girls to him?” Poppy smiled. “That would probably teach him the lesson.”

“Or …” Dee giggled, “…it would make him the victim again. Do you remember Flora Cathcart, Minerva?”

Poppy certainly seemed to remember. She started laughing. “I thought Albus would throttle Severus! He really was mad as hell, wasn’t he?”

“And how!” Minerva grinned. Looking at Hermione she obviously noticed that her young colleague wasn’t following. “Handsome young teachers and hormone-ridden girls - the mixture is very explosive!” she explained. &#;You;You can be sure, as soon as we get one, a few students will develop a crush on him.”

“Oh, yes!” Hermione blushed. She still felt embarrassed by remembering the crush she’d once had for her idiotic Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher during her third year at Hogwarts.

Minerva was tactful enough not to tease Hermione with that, but proceeded, “In Severus’ second or third year as a teacher, one of his Slytherins - sixth year Flora Cathcart - fell in love with him - or better said, with his name and his wealth. Severus was absolutely lost. He didn’t know how to handle the situation and so he asked Albus for advice.”

Poppy, chewing on a muffin, shook her head. “Albus wasn’t nice. Teasing the poor boy really was nasty. Severus suffered enough - all his Slytherins were already betting if and when the girl - who was a real pretty one - would lay him.”

“Yet Severus’ revenge at Albus was worthy of a Slytherin,” Minerva smiled. “He saw through the girl - her highest goal in life was to get herself a rich pureblood husband. So he let slip something about his family losing its fortune and …” she looked at Poppy: “This part of the story you know better then me.”

“Yes …” Poppy chuckled and swallowed her muffin. “In a weak hour I got it straight from the horse’s - or better said Severus’ - mouth. He ‘forgot’ the wizard’s Who’s Who - just opened on the page with the Dumbledores - in his common room. And a few days later he found a reason to send the girl to Albus.”

“And our dear headmaster,” now it was again Minerva telling, “still thought the girl was making puppy eyes because she had this crush on Severus. He wanted to comfort her and was all understanding and charm. So the silly girl came to believe she’d stand a chance with him and - being a Slytherin and not too bad a witch - managed to get through his wards into his bed chamber! So one night as he came back from a social gathering - dog-tired and only wishing to fall into sweet oblivion - he found himself confronted with a naked student who purred something like ‘Take me - I’m all yours!”

“Oh, sweet Merlin!” Hermione was all sympathy for her boss. “What did he do?”

“The only sensible thing,” Poppy said. “He cast a stunning spell and immediately left, coming straight to me. Then we called Minerva and together we went up in Albus’ chamber. Minerva gave the girl a royal dressing down while in the meantime I scanned her …”

“What for?” Hermione looked puzzled.

“Sexual contacts during the last 48 hours,” Poppy explained. “It’s a simple spell, but not often used - only as a school’s mediwitch should one know it. With the girl being the daughter of a close friend of Achilles Malfoy who was this time one of the governors of the school and who’d have liked nothing better than Albus’ head on a plate, we thought it neary ary to make absolutely sure he hadn’t touched the girl.”

“Of course,” Hermione nodded.

“He was nevertheless pretty cross about the entire affair,” Minerva proceeded. “Even his humour has limits - especially when it comes to inappropriate teacher-student relationships. In this matter he’s absolutely strict. And he doesn’t like his privacy invaded. So in his rage he took 200 points away from Slytherin. Severus found this too much - and started an argument with Albus in the staff conference, saying he’d actually like to reward the girl 50 points for she’d managed to get through Albus’ wards. Albus exploded like a fire cracker. It was the only time I saw him lose control during a staff conference.”

“And how!” Poppy laughed. “He became so furious the chandelier started ringing and poor Filius Flitwick who’d sat next to Albus was blown down from his chair.”

“Yet the best about this story is …” Dee Sprout giggled, “… that since then Severus’ speech to his fifth years contains - besides of the usual stuff about contraception charms, no girls in the boys’ dormitories, no girls in the boys’, no snogging in the halls and no shagging in the greenhouses - an explicit warning of not coming close to the headmaster! And Albus when he heard this first, almost broke down with laughter. He says this would probably work better than all contraceptus charms there were! The idea of coming close to him would probably give the children such a shock that they’d stay even away from each other.”


To be continued …