Chapter 17: Fallout
Chapter 17: Fallout
Sarah sighed as she stroked Jareth, the post owl cheerfully digging into the treats she held in her other hand, not noticing or caring much that her master was not paying her much attention, only knowing that her favourite foods were being given to her.
Sarah herself was having very mixed thoughts, she had learnt whilst at the school of course, but beyond what her ‘animagus’ form could be and a few meditation techniques had she truly learnt what she needed to? Had she learnt her control?
Certainly that was not yet up to scratch, her dreams, her nightmares, even her waking moods were still spilling over to affect the school as a whole That never used to be a problem, hell, until those idiots that started this mess, the ones she had sent to the bog of eternal stench, she had seen few if any indications that she had any sort of power. Certainly not power to the extent that was, often wildly, being expressed by her these days, and why was that exactly?
Had all those abilities remained dormant until she had called them into action in her fear, defending herself against those cretins or had Jareth locked them until needed?
He had appeared the very instant near enough that the doorway to the bog had been opened and closed. Could that be coincidence? No, she had to admit coincidence wasn’t likely; the timing was far too tight. Either he had been watching her and had responded as soon as she had disposed of the idiots, in which case she needed to kick his arse for not doing something sooner. She had seen the dark light in their eyes, she knew what they planned and she had little doubt Jareth knew it too, if he had been watching and was just going to let that happen….
The alternative was that he set it up in order to force her to use her abilities, in which case she wasn’t likely to be in any physical danger as she doubted Jareth, arsehole though he was, would allow his constructs to go that far, but still, that being true, she still needed to kick his arse.
And there was his responses, his actions once he had appeared, they had been swift, decisive, not a hint of hesitation or pause, as if he had practised them. He knew exactly what he was going to say, he had everything all planned out ready, even if it was only in his head, that was the only explanation she could think of. Which meant she really needed to have a ‘quiet’ word with Jareth, preferably at gunpoint. A shotgun pointing somewhere low down and valuable should do it, not that she could get her hands on a shotgun but the thought was certainly nice.
“She did what?”
Hermione sniggered, her eyes dancing with malicious humour, “her classmates found her on top of Snape in a full on lip lock,”
Harry shook his head, “Snape is never ever going to forgive use for that.”
“True,” Hermione laughed, “but just imagine the fun we can have reminding him of it at every opportunity? Not like Snape is going to allow Gryffindor or Slytherin to win the House Cup now anyway, so we might as well have some fun.”
Harry gaped at Hermione, startled, “Hermione, this is a Professor you’re talking about!”
“The mediocre teacher tells, the good teacher explains, the superior teacher demonstrates, the great teacher inspires. William Arthur Ward if I remember correctly,” She shook her head dismissingly, “Snape might know potions better then any other person alive, but he is certainly no teacher.”
“Hey guys,” Harry and Hermione stopped, glancing behind them at the familiar voice of Ron racing up to join, “have you heard, Snapes been sedated! Kept on raving about an Abbot or something, he was totally cracked.”
Breaking out laughing, Harry and Hermione preceded to explain to Ron exactly why Snape had cracked.
Snape didn’t know what was worse, the fact that he had lost control, in front of the students no less or the fact that he had lost control so badly he had needed to be sedated. Or perhaps thanks to word getting out about being caught in a lip lock with a student that he was now going to have his status here as a teacher reviewed, not just by the school board who were in Malfoys pocket anyway and so wouldn’t be a problem whilst Voldemort saw a need for him to be here, but by Ministry Aurors too.
He was knee-deep in dragon shit thanks to those blasted Gryffindor and Slytherins and worse, the whole school knew it. And just to cap it off, there was not a single chance of Miss Abbott leaving him alone now, having a female writhing on top of him had provoked a long forgotten reaction much to his disgust, and whilst Abbott herself had hidden that reaction from the arriving students and teachers he had known and so had she.
He was truly in the shit, and if either the School Board or the Aurors asked the wrong question and his carefully cultivated immunity to veritiseaum didn’t hold up them he would truly be in trouble. That shit would most definitely hit the fan.
In that case he might as well just go to Voldemort and admit to being an agent for Dumbledore; it would be a lot less painful then what would happen to him otherwise.
Damn those blasted brats, damn Miss Abbott and damn himself for losing control!