In which Hermione may or may not have a secret cabinet of tea.

“I just don’t understand why you would make it so complicated!” said Hermione from the corner in her over cushioned  arm chair.

Three heads turned and looked at her.

“Make what so complicated?” said Harry.

“The ending of one Professor Severus Snape, JD.” Hermione returned.

“And how do you suppose I make it less complicated, Hermione,” Harry asked.

“Well it’s simple, isn’t it? You poison his afternoon tea, you tamper with his car, you get him alone and inject an air bubble directly into his heart. Not difficult!” Hermione said matter-of-factly.

Harry, Dean, and Theo looked at her, dumbfounded. 

“What? Really. You want someone dead, you knock on their door, they answer, you shoot them! Easy.” To her credit, Hermione said this with a straight face.

“I don’t want to go to prison for murder, Hermione, I just wish that the man weren’t so infuriating!” Harry exclaimed.

“Maybe you should be more careful what you wish for, Harry,” Hermione responded.

Theo stared at Hermione and hesitated for just a moment before saying, “Hermione, sometimes I really forget to make notes not to anger you.”

Hermione scoffed, “As if I am at all dangerous., Theo!”

Theo just shook his head and wandered into the kitchen.

 In which Seamus may or may not still have a producer.

Ginny was making margaritas when Seamus walked in.

“Oh lord. What happened now?” he said when he saw the tequila.

“Jordan broke rule #13.” was her reply, without looking up.

“Erm. How?” Seamus knew he was going to regret that question.

“They have to call in someone to look at the paperwork,” again, Ginny didn’t take her eyes off the blender.

“How does that… I’m sorry, remind me what Rule #13 entails, again,” Seamus was used to Ginny’s rules by now.

“Rule Number 13: Never, ever, involve lawyers. For any reason,” Ginny said matter-of-factly.

“Lawyers. Oh dear. Is Jordan still living?” Seamus actually was a bit worried about that. Ginny took lawyers very seriously.

“For the moment. His luck may or may not hold. Depends on the lawyers,” she said.

“Please don’t kill him, where on earth will I find another producer?” Seamus was almost pleading, now.

“In Oxford?” Ginny didn’t have any remorse when someone involved lawyers.

Seamus was silent and still. It only took a minute before Ginny gave in.

“Oh fine. How about I make you a margarita? I can make it a virgin!” she offered.

Seamus leaned forward to whisper in Ginny’s ear, “I doubt that.”

Ginny finally looked up as she gasped, “Offensive! Very offensive!”

Seamus just walked away, laughing.

 In which Snape thieves from people.

It was pouring. Of course it was. How could he have expected any different?

He wanted a smoke, though, and he was bloody well going to have one.

Just as he lit the cigarette, he heard the footsteps.

Light, almost silent, but decidedly behind him and walking directly towards him.

Harry sighed and took a drag, forcing himself to relax into it.

“Potter,” said the voice belonging to the footsteps: his boss.

“Professor Snape,” he responded.

“Those things will kill you, you know,” Snape informed him.

“So will alcohol and fast cars. Think anyone stops doing things with those?” Harry returned.

Snape hesitated for just a moment. “Could I bum one from you?” he inquired.

Harry silently held out the pack, then flicked his lighter under the other man’s cigarette.

“Hypocrite,” he accused.

“You saw the freshmen, Potter. And we all have our vices for dealing with the terror of people.” Snape rejoined.

“I’ve been your TA for six months, Snape. They are far more likely to come out of this scarred than you.” Harry said.

“Vices, Potter, are what keep good teachers sane, and good students in fear.” his boss replied.

“And yours is, Professor?”Harry asked.

“Stealing cigarettes off my Teaching Assistant. Now come on, we can’t catch them being late if we aren’t there ourselves.” Snape snapped back.

 In which Draco is over-dramatically frustrated.

“Library books.” he murmured, looking at the stacks.

Pansy nodded.

“Library books?” he stared at her. “Really?”

Pansy fidgeted a little under his gaze. “I have them from every city I’ve ever lived in. I’ve been doing it since I was ten.”

Draco glanced at the books again, then back to her. “You never get to call me insane again.”

Pansy fidgeted some more. “Done.”

Draco walked out of the room mumbling “She steals library books?” under his breath.

Pansy watched him for a moment, then picked up The Rivers of Zadaa and set up camp in an overstuffed chair.

“Oh, not this again!” Said a voice from the door.

“Do shush, Draco.” said Theo from the couch.

“Must you insist upon watching this rubbish at least once a week? Really?” demanded Draco.

“Must you consistantly complain about it? It’s not as if I tie you to the couch and force you to watch it with me.” Theo shot back.

“Yes. The Constant Gardener does not qualify as quality entertainment, Theo. Tessa and Justin be damned, you don’t need to cry like a little schoolgirl every single weekend,” proclaimed Draco loudly.

“If you had ever bothered to watch this movie, Malfoy, you would know that The Constant Gardener is not about just the romance. It’s controversial, and for good reason,” Theo explained absently.

“Wouldn’t you rather read something? Wander through the seas in Moby Dick? Become unstuck in time with Billy Pilgrim? SOMETHING intellectual?” Draco cried in desperation.

Theo finally looked up, pushed Draco down into sitting on the couch, turned back to the movie and said, very quietly, “Sit still. Hush. Watch.”

In which Terry turns the tables

“But there are just too many of them…” Terry was going on for the third time.

“Tough. Deal with it.” Said a frustrated and amused Hannah.

“But… Seventeen! And all of them married. And my mother there, hovering about, introducing me to all of her single friends. Who ‘just happen’ to be my age. Last year she even included single men!” he looked comically distressed.

“So don’t go. Not my funeral. But didn’t you say that all of the Boots have terrible tempers? Something about shoe jokes…” Hannah couldn’t help giggling.

Terry’s mother had called with a spur of the moment invitation to a family party, to celebrate his eldest sister’s engagement. She’d invited the whole family, and what sounded like half the city.

The trouble with it was that Terry was the only member of his immediate family who was not married or seriously involved with someone.

He groaned loudly. “Not funny, Abbott. Horrendously unfunny. Grievously sinful toward the very nature of funny.”

“Oh, it is. You have no idea how much. Just go, Terry, it won’t be as bad as all that!”

When she looked up from her tea, Terry was grinning at her deviously.

‘Oh no.’ her brain cried, but she calmly ate toast and waited to shoot his argument down.


Well, this was odd. Hannah narrowed her eyes. “Fine?”

“Yes. Fine.” he paused to let her have a moment of victory before… “But if I’m going, you’re coming with me, Abbott. Come on, up, go get dressed. There will be plenty of food there.”

Hannah sat there with toast already in her mouth and stared as he left the room.

“But…” she paused to swallow. “I don’t wan-“

“Tough. Deal with it.” Terry cut her off, calling out from his bedroom.

 In which Peeves is truly frustrating.

“Hey Gin, hows the shop going?” Charlie walked into the living room and slumped into his father’s favourite arm chair.

“Dead standstill,” She murmured without looking up. “Can’t seem to find a reason for the hero to come in and purchase any books.” she closed her laptop with a soft ‘click’. Ginny was a writer, and her Uni classes were forever the bane of her creative existence; or so she said. She took a glance at Charlie.

“Oh. What did Peeves do now? Bloody prick…” she mumbled the last bit.

Everyone knew that Charlie was in a perpetually tormented relationship with a man called Jared Peeves. He was forever putting the breaks on or starting endless arguments over nothing, disappearing for weeks at a time, only to come back guilting and cajoling Charlie into accepting him again

Unfortunately it was painfully obvious that the man was silly in love with her brother, or Ginny would have had a few choice words with him a year or so back. But no one dared tell Charlie. Peeves was a dangerous specimen. Still,it was tempting at times like this.

“Nothing, he’s just holed up in the studio again. Has been for a week. I’ve nothing to do.”

Ginny hid her amusement. If only Charlie knew what Peeves was up to in there…

A Note: This was written purely for amusement purposes, and thus far has five and a half chapters.



September 2011

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