Chapter 20: This IS a surprise…
Chapter 20: This IS a surprise…
Hannah Abbott might have come across to many as a rather simple, unremarkable child, one who, if it wasn’t for her strange and intense desire for Snape, wouldn’t stand out from the crowd but was certainly likely to be towards the rear of it but that was an image she cultivated. In this day and age, it didn’t do to be ‘different’, not with the return of Voldemort and certainly not with the degree of prejudice that even the relatively noble and good families such as the Weasleys displayed. Besides, her particular talent would mark her out as somebody He Who Needs A Facelift might have use for and that was certainly a circumstance to be avoided.
Besides, unlike the others who saw her pursuit of the Greasy Git as amusing, Abbott had seen the future and as far as Snape was concerned it went one of two ways, either the greasy git really getting some, thankfully not from her, she might be trying to save his soul but some things were very definitely above and beyond the call of duty. The alternate was Voldemort being killed… and Snape taking his place.
Snape, who knew who all the Order of the Phoenix members were, Snape who was an unparralled potions master, Snape who knew Hogwarts so well…
She had seen that future and the result was open warfare between normal and Sourcerer, a war which she knew either the normals would win or they would make damned sure nobody won.
Which led her to here, racing not directly towards the men’s toilets where Snape was about to have a rather ill-timed and unfortunate meeting with several Deatheaters but to a corridor just to the side where she had carefully hidden her prized possession, a Cricket bat signed by the England team.
Okay, so it wasn’t the Traditional baseball bat that the Americans felt had to be used in such circumstances, but she had an idea it would do the job just fine…
“Professor Dumbledore, I do believe that somebody had spiked the punch,”
Dumbledore glanced at McGonagall, his eyes twinkling, “well, I suppose your wine was a relatively tame addition to the flavour,”
She blushed, “Professor, I have no idea what you’re talking about. Besides, a single bottle of wine in a twelve gallon vat of punch would not make so many students this tipsy.”
Dumbledore glanced across the room once and nodded ruefully, he had known about McGonagall’s wine and he had a damned good idea how alcoholic it wasn’t, hence why he had allowed it, but even given stomachs unused to even the mildest of alcohols the students were certainly a little overly tipsy…
Excluding a large group constituting mostly of Slytherins but that wasn’t a surprise, there were always some who had far more of a tolerance then their age would suggest.
“What do you mean wine,” Hooch frowned, walking up to the two, “it was brandy I… err, that was added. Or so I’ve heard.”
“Professor!” Flitwick squeaked, walking up to the group, a slightly nervous guilty look in his eyes, “I believe the punch may have been spiked, I just found this empty bottle behind the curtains.”
Dumbledore sighed, realizing suddenly exactly what had happened, “did anyone here not add something to the punch?”
He frowned, shuddering slightly, “excluding Snape who was only threatening too?”
Mcgonagall caught his eye, “Albus, what did you add?”
He grinned, pulling a bottle of Snapes patented hangover preventer from his pocket, “I know you had added a little something Minerva, and I rather suspected the Weasley twins would too. I can’t think why they haven’t.”
“They have other plans,” Sprout grinned, “been asking about ‘safe’ dyes, how long they take to go through the body and whether Poppy had left for any reason. I’m not sure whether to warn her or not.”
Dumbledore considered this, then grinned, “Red dye of course… and ‘discomfort’ in the toilet naturally.”
Sprout shook her head, chuckling, “blue,”
Dumbledore’s eyes widened, “you’re right. I don’t know whether to warn her or not.”
“This doesn’t help us with our immediate problem Albus,”
He glanced back across the room, a pensive frown crossing his face, “your right Minerva, it doesn’t.”
“You don’t think the punch has been spiked do you Fred?”
“You know George; I do believe it has,”
The two brothers glanced around the room solemnly, “why didn’t we do something like this?”
“Golden Rule Fred, don’t hurt anyone,”
“Right,” Fred nodded, “and in the morning, boy, is Poppy going to be overwhelmed.”
“Perfect timing then,”
Their eyes widened as they saw a somewhat Tipsy Pansy Parkinson attempting to look alluring. It was a disturbing image, but the twin’s minds both instantly pointed not Due North but Due Money.
“Lots of embarrassing incidents going on at the moment,”
“We need a camera,”
“Not very sporting,”
“I know, but the alternate…”
“Right, now it is,”
More then vaguely insulted, Snape took that as he cue, diving from the toilet, wand raised, a simple Petrificus Totalis already on his lips… a spell which bounced straight of its intended target and took Snape straight out of the fight.
“You were right mate, he is fast.”
“That what I’ve been telling you mate, with buggers as deadly as this one you cant just go in and just Avada them ‘cos you’ll be the one that ends up dead, you got to make them think they’re the ones in charge of the situation. Now, what say we package this traitor up and deliver his scrawny arse to the boss.”
“Right,” Voice One paused a moment, “you know, I can’t help but think we’re missing something.”
“Yeah, like what?”
“To watch your backs?” A female voice commented from behind the two.
“Perhaps,” Voice two nodded, then in unison the two Deatheaters froze, then turned, wands already slipping back into their hands from their holsters.
Unfortunately for them, Hannah Abbott was already swinging and she was a pretty reasonable cricket player.