A New Beginning (DH -COMPLIANT)

Chapter 65 ~ The Face-Off

Roland charged toward Rod who stood there as if he were going to grab him, then spun neatly out of the way, the Gryffindor flying past him and skidding to a stop, turning with a snarl as Rod looked at him calmly, moving a little to the left.

”Ole!” the Slytherin said, then “Toro! Toro!”

”Hold still,” Roland hissed, running at him again, this time swinging at Rod, who neatly ducked his blows. Roland was much sloppier with his throws than Snape was. He danced away from Roland, who frowned at him.

”Stop running, you coward! Fight!” he demanded.

”I am fighting,” Rod responded.

”You call that fighting?” Roland growled, “I’ll show you fighting.”

Three couples were walking up the hall and saw Roland and Rod facing off.

”Hey, it’s Roland and Rod,” one wizard cried, leaving his date and running up. The others ran behind him, the witches’ heels clicking on the stone flooring as they got close enough to watch as Roland charged at Rod again.

Rod timed it carefully, and Roland perceiving Rod would dip either to the right or left was prepared to alter his direction mid-charge to compensate, but Rod ducked low and Roland pitched over his back landing face first on the floor, sliding forward and landing crumpled and dazed.

“Ooh!” the audience groaned as the stunned wizard lay there a moment.

”Hm. That worked pretty good,” Rod thought to himself as he waited for Roland to get up.

Roland pushed up off the floor, his nose bleeding and his face red. There was going to be some bruising.

”You got lucky,” he growled, wiping at his face with one hand and studying the blood on his palm for a second before running at Rod again, swinging. Rod again slipped his blows, ducking under them and leaning away so Roland was just missing him.

”What kind of fighting is that?” said one of the witches, “I want to hear some bones crunching.”

“Get him Roland!” another boy cried.

They were all Gryffindors, so they were rooting for their house, of course. Beating up a Slytherin was par for the course, even if he was as cool as Rod was now.

Rod saw an opening, and using one of his dance moves, dropped down and swept Roland’s feet from under him, the wizard hitting the floor hard as Rod again danced away.

“Gods damn it,” Roland hissed, getting up again. “Stay still Dormers!”

James and Anita walked up the hall, the witch stony-faced and James looking rather sullen. All of his date snafus ruined his chances for a good shag with the witch. Cute or not, James had messed up big time and there’d be no rewards tonight. James heard the yelling before he saw what was going on and sped up, dragging Anita along with him. He stopped when he saw Rod dancing around Roland.

Roland was looking pretty bad. His face was all bruised and there was blood on his chin. Both he and Rod were panting, but Rod looked fine.

“Isn’t that Rod?” Anita asked as the wizard ducked another blow thrown by Roland.

“Yeah,” James said shortly, watching the two.

Roland was really angry now and ran at Rod both arms extended wide and managed to grab him, lifting the smaller wizard against his body and crushing him. Rod’s arms were pinned and they were face to face.

”Ooh. He’s in for it now. Roland’s going to pop him like a bubertuber pod,” a wizard said as Rod’s eyes bugged out.

His blue eyes met Roland’s narrowed victorious ones as he gasped. He felt as if he couldn’t take another breath as the bigger wizard squeezed. Suddenly Rod leaned his head back and head-butted Roland as hard as he could.

Roland dropped him and both wizards staggered back, seeing stars. Roland stopping in front of the suit of armor. Rod clapped his hand to his forehead and stumbled around a bit. Damn that hurt. But at least he got away.

He barely managed to jump out the way as Roland charged him again, the wizards changing places, Rod now standing next to the suit of armor. He looked at it for a second, then his eyes narrowed.

No more Mr. Nice guy. Rod was a Slytherin, and it was time to act like one.

Roland charged at him again, and Rod slipped his hand behind the suit of armor and flung it forward as hard as he could, the metal suit crashing into Roland and breaking apart, knocking the wizard down, the Gryffindor struggling to kick away the suit.

”Hey! That was dirty!” everyone yelled.

Rod didn’t care as he kicked Roland in the ribs while he was down, then in the head. Then just dropped on the wizard and started wailing on him, hitting him in the face over and over, then choking him. He started to pick up the helmet and smash him in the face with it, but didn’t. Still, all the pent up bitterness in Rod flowed out and although Roland managed to get a few licks in, Rod was on top and dominated the fight, punching the bigger wizard again and again until he flung his arms up to protect his face, no longer fighting back.

James had seen enough.

”All right Dormers. Fight’s over. You’ve won. Get off of him,” the wizard said, walking forward.

Rod gave Roland one more punch in the side of the head, then got off him. Rod’s lip was split, there was a scratch under his right eye, his knuckles were a bit red and his robes were torn at the shoulder, but other than that, he was fine.

Roland looked a mess however. His entire face was swollen and bruised, and one eye drooping slightly. He spit out a bit of blood.

Rod wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and looked down at Roland, panting as the wizard sat up on his elbows, looking at the Slytherin.

”Are we finished with this?” Rod asked, “because if we aren’t I can keep going.”

“Yeah. Get out of here, Dormers,” Roland said with some bravado because he was in front of his housemates. But it was clear to everyone Rod beat him, though he did do a dirty move with the armor. But hell, he was a Slytherin. It was expected.

“I’m going,” Rod said.

He met James’ eyes for a moment, the Gryffindor looking at him soberly, then walked past him, heading for Slytherin house. He hadn’t expected James to congratulate him for winning. Roland was his housemate after all and there were others present.

It was fine. Rod didn’t need his congratulations anyway. He’d proven himself to himself and that’s what truly mattered. No one would ever push Rod Dormers around again.

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“Rose! Rose! Have you seen Roland?” an excited Hugo said to his sister as he danced up to her. Rose was carrying a suitcase down the stairs. Everyone was getting ready to leave the school and milling about the Common Room, chattering excitedly, familiars running and flying about as students checked and recheck their items.

”No, I haven’t. Why?” Rose asked.

”Come on. He’s sitting by the chess tables,” Hugo breathed, taking Rose’s hand and pulling her over to a crowd of students.

Rose followed Hugo and pushed through the crowd. She gasped when she saw Roland sitting in an armchair. His face was almost entirely black and blue, and one eye was swollen shut. He looked awful.

“Rod did that to him,” Hugo said in a loud whisper.

Roland looked up at Rose for a moment, then turned his face away from her.

Rose stared at him for a second more, then backed out of the crowd, followed by Hugo. Rod did that? Oh dear gods.

“What did Rod do? Hit him in the face with a bludger?” Rose said as she returned to her suitcase and picked it up. Hugo grabbed his own suitcase.

”No, even better. He clobbered him with a suit of armor,” Hugo said, grinning. “James said Rod barely had a scratch on him when he left.”

Rose shook her head. It was awful. Why were wizards so stupid? She sighed.

”Well, I’m glad Rod is all right. I hope this is over now,” she said, walking toward the Common Room entrance, Hugo by her side.

”It’s over, unless Roland wants some more,” the young wizard said with a smile. They exited the Common Room, walking past Sharon, who was coming from the Infirmary.

Winston was exiting the dorms when he saw her and gave her a bright smile, walking up to the witch.

”Hi Sharon,” he said, his brown eyes a bit hot. Sharon looked up at him.

“Don’t hi me. I realized this morning you didn’t have protection on. I had to go take a Morning After Potion,” she snapped at him.

Winston looked at her.

”You didn’t give me any time to do anything but shag you, Sharon,” he said to her in a low voice, “I . . . I couldn’t think . . .”

”You would have had years to think while supporting your baby,” she hissed at him.

”But . . . but . . .Sharon,” he said to the witch, trying to find something to say that would cool her ire. She could have used something just as good as he could have. Everything happened so fast . . .

“Just leave me alone,” she snapped, walking away.

Winston looked after her, a bit confused. He hadn’t expected this. The thing was, he really liked Sharon and didn’t want her mad at him, especially now that they had shagged. The young wizard let out a sigh and picked up his suitcase. Maybe she’d forgive him over the holidays.

He could only hope.

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Snape came to Hermione’s apartment for lunch on Saturday, and they spent their time eating and arguing over some asinine article he’d found once again comparing the art of Potions vs. Charms. It was quite inflammatory, and actually one of the worst articles he had ever read, which was precisely why he brought it to Hermione, to hear the witch rail and tear it apart, even calling him a “bone-headed plebian” in her wrath.

After Hermione calmed down, which took about an hour, Snape told her he had adjusted the wards for the holiday.

”I’ve set the wards to recognize your signature so you can apparate to and from the worksite at will. I’ve done this because Bartleby is also taking a two week vacation and you won’t be able to contact him while you are away visiting,” the wizard said.

”Why thank you, Severus,” Hermione said, smiling at him.

”When your children arrive, I hope you will control them. Just because the area isn’t warded doesn’t mean I want them tramping all over,” he snarked.

Hermione scowled at him.

”What do you mean? It’s freezing outside,” she said, “They won’t be tramping about.”

Snape snorted.

”I’m sure Mrs. Weasley will provide them with enough sweaters, scarves, gloves and pom-pom hats to make them impervious to the cold,” he replied.

Hermione grinned.

Yes, Molly did provide hand knit clothing for her family each Christmas. She was a bit surprised Severus remembered this, but then again, seeing all the Weasley children in big sweaters with their initials on them year after year at Hogwarts probably stuck in his mind.

“They’ll be good, Severus. I promise,” she said to him.

”I’d be more reassured by that statement if the promises actually came from them, rather than you,” he replied, finishing his tea.

Hermione hadn’t told the wizard that she had returned outside last night to retrieve him. After she went back inside and had a chance to think about it, she believed that she had acted impulsively and it would have been a mistake to bring the wizard in.

Well, that was what she told herself. Hermione was a master of self-delusion when she needed to rationalize something that really had no rationale.

The couple parted with one small, chaste kiss, Hermione heading for Hogsmeade to Christmas shop.

Snape had already taken care of his shopping.

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Hermione was surprised to see Rod Dormers in Hogsmeade. The young wizard greeted her, and she noticed his lip was cut and there was a scratch under his eye that hadn’t been there the night before.

“Rod, what happened to your face?” she asked him.

”Ah, just little run-in with a suit of armor,” he replied evasively.

He didn’t want Rose’s mother to think he was a violent brawler. He wanted Hermione to like him. He didn’t have to worry about that. She already did.

“Oh,” Hermione said, her eyes resting on his face again, not quite sure she believed him. But if he didn’t want to tell her what happened, it was his right. As long as Rose wasn’t involved.

”So what are you doing in Hogsmeade?” she asked him.

”Um, buying presents for Rose and Hugo,” he said, “For Christmas.”

”Oh, that’s so sweet, Rod,” she said to him, delighted.

Rod nodded then looked a little uncomfortable

“The only thing is, I’ve never bought a gift for a witch before. I was thinking about perfume, but Rose might not like what I like. Maybe jewelry . . .?” he asked, hoping Hermione would give him a hint if Rose would like something like that.

”Jewelry would be fine, Rod, as long as it’s not too expensive,” Hermione replied, “Or gaudy. Maybe a charm bracelet.”

Rod gave her a broad smile.

”That sounds good. Thanks, Mrs. Weasley,” Rod said, “I thought I’d get Hugo something from Zonko’s”

Hermione shook her head.

”No. Zonko’s is out completely. They’re competition for his uncle’s shop, Weasley’s Wizarding Wheezes. There’d be anarchy. Besides, he has access to all the new joke items already,” she told Rod.

”Oh,” he said, “Well, what does he like?”

”Hugo’s easy. He likes the Chudley Cannons,” she said to the blonde wizard.

”Oh, all right. I can get him something related to the team,” he said, smiling.

”He’d like that,” Hermione replied, resisting the urge to ruffle Rod’s hair. He was so cute, “Well, I have to go Rod. I have my own shopping to do. Have a Happy Christmas.”

”You too, Mrs. Weasley,” he said as Hermione departed.

Rod smiled after her.

She really was a nice witch.

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Hermione purchased nice broom maintenance kits for Rose, Hugo and her nieces and nephews . They didn’t give elaborate gifts on Christmas and the presents were kept simple. She brought Molly a huge magically self-cleaning cooking pot (Molly could never have enough of them) and for Arthur she bought an old radio with tubes in it from a muggle thrift shop for him to tinker around with. She purchase a green non-reactive pestle and mortar set with the Slytherin crest for Severus, the latest book of Quidditch Through the Ages for Harry and a certificate for the “Full Treatment” at Fingleberry’s Day Spa for Witches for Ginny to be primped and pampered. Hermione had heard the magical mud pots were to die for. She also bought a pair of jeans for Rod as an afterthought. She doubted if he had any. Severus wouldn’t have bought them. He wasn’t a jeans type of guy.

She apparated back to the worksite, wrapped her gifts and prepared for her trip to the Burrow. She wasn’t leaving until Tuesday, which was Christmas Eve, would spend Christmas Day at the Burrow, and most likely would return Friday. But this was Hermione and she liked to get ready early.

She and Severus got together several times in the next couple of days, but their time spent together was mostly platonic, as if some line had been marked since the night of the ball. The wizard wasn’t as forward as he had been, though he would kiss her hello and goodbye. Mostly they discussed the projects she’d have to catch up on and Severus grumbled like Ebenezer Scrooge about having to pay a holiday vacation salary to employees that weren’t working.

Hermione was his only employee at this time, though Rod was on-board.

”Stop being so tight-fisted, Severus,” she chided him as he pouted, but in a snarky kind of way.

”I’m not being tight-fisted. You’re being paid aren’t you?” he said sullenly.

”Unbelievable,” Hermione sighed, shaking her head as she retrieved some cookies she’d been baking.

The day she left however, Severus was very solicitous, stealing several rather passionate kisses as the witch got her things together. Finally, it was time for her to go to the Burrow.

”Enjoy yourself,” he said to the witch softly, his dark eyes seeming to want to memorize her.

”I don’t like the idea of you being alone on Christmas, Severus,” Hermione said to him, her eyes sad, “You’ve been alone so much.”

”I’ll be fine. You just enjoy your family, Hermione,” he said to her, giving her one more soft kiss.

Hermione blinked up at him. She really hated this.

”Go,” Snape said, “I’ll be here when you come back. Waiting.”

Hermione sighed, then disapparated.

Snape stood looking down at the imprints her feet left in the snow.

“Have a very Happy Christmas, Hermione Weasley,” he said softly, then disapparated to his empty home.

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Molly had been very disappointed to find out Rod wouldn’t be coming to the Burrow for Christmas. She had been looking forward to meeting the young man who had saved her granddaughter, and hated the idea of him in that drafty castle almost completely alone. Still, she could do something for him.

Actually, Rod wasn’t doing too badly at Hogwarts. He now had his own portable wizarding wireless and headset, and spent his days dancing through the castle, making up new moves, running through the halls, swinging on the shifting stairwells and generally having a good time by himself. Caretaker Gronin thought the boy had gone crazy as he watched him skip and tumble through the corridors, listening to some tune on his wireless.

Hermione spent a nice Christmas Eve with the family, sharing stories, laughing, feasting and watching everyone share the spirit of the season. But it was easy to see that there was something just not quite right with the witch. Hugo and Rose noticed it immediately, there was a sad, faraway look in their mum’s eyes, one she lost immediately when anyone addressed her as if she were trying to be cheerful. Finally Rose took her aside.

“Mum, what’s wrong,” she asked Hermione, who gave her a small smile.

”Why, nothing’s wrong, Rose. Why?” she asked her daughter, who gave her a little scowl.

”Mum, I can tell something is bothering you. You’re not happy,” her daughter said to her, “Tell me what’s the matter. Please?”

Hermione sighed.

”I don’t think you’d understand, Rose,” she said, a little quaver in her voice.

”Try me, mum. Maybe I will,” Rose urged her mother.

Hermione sighed again.

”Well, it’s Professor Snape. He’s there at home all alone on Christmas, with no one to share it with. He’s always been like that. No friends, no family. Imagining him like that just breaks my heart, Rose. It has to be so lonely,” Hermione said to her daughter.

Now Rose understood. Her mother didn’t think she’d understand because of dad. But she did. She found herself thinking of Rod alone at Hogwarts and it bothered her too.

”That is sad, mum,” Rose agreed.

“And we’ve grown so close, Rose. I feel . . . I feel guilty leaving him like this. I know my family comes first, but I can’t help but feel that I’m letting him down. Abandoning him,” Hermione said to her daughter. “I wanted him to come here, but he wouldn’t. Because this is Ron’s family and he and I are involved. I know that’s the reason.”

”Yeah, it would have been awkward, mum,” Rose agreed, looking at the sadness in her mother’s eyes. She really cared about Professor Snape. She must feel awful.

”I know, mum. Why don’t you just drop in to see him for a bit tomorrow after we open the presents and have dinner? Just to say ‘Happy Christmas.’ I think that would be all right. Or maybe just spend the evening and come back the next day. I’m sure that would be all right. I know Hugo and I wouldn’t mind. Then you wouldn’t feel so guilty,” Rose suggested.

Hermione looked at her daughter. She couldn’t do that, could she? Just leave that way?

”But Molly . . .” Hermione began.

She knew her mother-in-law would be affronted if she left on Christmas Day, even if all the festivities were finished.

”Mum, this is about you, not grandmum. Professor Snape is important to you too. You care about him. If you’re feeling guilty about him being alone it’s probably because you should be with him. Mum, you’ve been with us every Christmas since I was born. And you’ve been to Christmas at the Burrow every year since before I was born. I don’t think it would be terrible if you took a little time out to do something else after all this time. Go see him, mum. You need to,” Rose said, “It’s better than you moping around pretending you’re having a good time. Just don’t tell grandmum until you’re ready to go. She’ll spend the whole day trying to make you feel guilty.”

Hermione looked at her daughter a bit shocked. When did Rose become so shady?

“You really think I should, Rose?” she asked her daughter.

”Yeah. I really do,” Rose said, hugging her.

Hermione held her daughter close, her eyes filling with tears. Rose did understand.

“I’ll go then. I’ll surprise him,” Hermione said, brightening now.

Rose smiled.

”Good for you, mum,” she said, “Good for you.”

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Dean Thomas, his wife Joyce, son Winston and his baby daughter Alice were all in the living room laughing and enjoying each other’s company when a knock sounded on the door. It was about eight-thirty.

”I wonder who that is?” Dean said, taking Alice off his lap and rising from his armchair. Winston looked up from his disk collection as his father went to answer the door. He stood up and followed him.

Dean pulled open the front door and saw a wizard standing there in a heavy, shabby winter cloak, a black woolen hat pulled over his ears. He had a long rather twisted face and narrowed blue eyes. He didn’t look too wholesome.

”Yes? May I help you?” Dean said a bit suspiciously.

He didn’t like the look of this wizard.

“You Dean Thomas?” the wizard asked him, his eyes cold.

”Yes, I am,” he said, “Do I know you?”

”I don’t think you’ll ever forget me,” Jugson said, drawing a long dagger and swinging it downward.

But Dean was on point and caught his arm, the two wizards beginning to wrestle desperately.

“Hey! What the fuck are you doing to my dad!” Winston screamed, running into the doorway and joining his father, grabbing at the wizard’s wrist and punching him in the side.

Joyce jumped up when she heard Winston curse and ran into the hall leading to the front door and saw her son and husband fighting with a wizard with a knife in his hand.

“You leave my family alone!” she screamed, running and jumping into the fray also. All four of them tumbled out into the snow, baby Alice standing in the doorway screaming “Mummy!” as they all fought desperately.

Joyce had Jugson by the face from behind scratching him horribly as Dean and Winston tried to get the knife from him. Jugson broke free for a moment, the knife flailing wildly before he was tackled again, this time the knife flying from his hand.

The desperate wizard managed to kick Dean off of him, then broke free of Joyce and Winston, fleeing into the night, Dean chasing him a little ways into the darkness before coming back.

”Is everyone all right?” Dean asked them, looking from his wife to his son, who stood looking back at him as if in shock. It was understandable however. Someone had just tried to kill his father.

”I’m fine,” Joyce said, smoothing her hair, then walking back to the door and picking up the still screaming Alice. Dean walked over and picked up the knife.

The blade had blood on it. Dean spun and stared at Winston, who was standing there looking at him, holding his side.

Blood was dripping between his fingers.

Winston looked at him, his brown eyes dazed and confused.

”Dad?” he said softly, taking a weak step toward him, then falling into the snow, a crimson stain spreading under him..

”WINSTON!” Dean cried, dropping the knife and running toward his son as his wife screamed.

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A/N: I decided to change the plot I had planned for Jugson because of the length of this story already. Soooo, Hermione is going to pay a surprise visit to Severus on Christmas day eh? What do you suppose would be the perfect gift? A lovely bunch of lemons???? lol. Me too. heh. Thanks for reading.