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The Great Snape-Deveroux Grudge Match - Part II: Watcher and Hunter by Pigwidgeon [Reviews - 1]

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"Come in," she called out. She wasn't too surprised to see the headmaster walk through the doorway.

"Good evening, Aurellia," Dumbledore said. "Hope you are planning to retire soon? You have a busy day tomorrow, and remember what Poppy said ...."

"Yes, yes," Deveroux replied. "I was going to call it a night soon. But I'm glad you stopped by: I need to ask a big favor."

"What is it?" Dumbledore asked, his eyes filling with concern at the Defense teacher's grave expression.

Deveroux handed the headmaster her note from Remus. Dumbledore read the lines with more and more concern. When he finished reading, he looked up from the note and stared at the Defense teacher.

"You didn't talk to your parents before coming out here?" Dumbledore asked.

"There ... there was no time, Dumbledore," Aurellia said, and she looked away from Dumbledore's piercing gaze. "We barely caught our train as it was. You were expecting us that afternoon, and it was anyone's guess when my parents would have been home, father is always so busy with the courtroom, or one of his business deals, and mum is usually working or attending one of her luncheons."

"I would have understood a delay, Aurellia," Dumbledore said in a stern tone. "What exactly do they know? I'm gathering they don't even know you are a witch."

Aurellia reluctantly shook her head. "My cousin always insisted on absolute secrecy on that matter. I think he was afraid, more for me than himself, that if our parents found out, they would have cast us out. At first, I believed that, but as time wore on, it became more of a matter that magic was no longer important to me, and then Luk moved out and was on his own by the time he was 19. But even now, I don't think they would take the news well, especially dad."

"What do they know about ... about that afternoon?"

Aurellia blinked back tears. "Not much, only what Remus told them. I really haven't talked to them since that day."

Dumbledore groaned and Aurellia winced. When Aurellia was in the hospital, it had fallen on the poor werewolf to tell the Deverouxs about Luk's death. And he had decided that it would be better not to tell them about the wizarding world, or Voldemort, or that Luk and Aurellia were elves. What Remus had told--and not told--the Deverouxs was, in fact, a pack of lies and half-truths which the astute Justice did not buy.

"Remus didn't even tell them you were in the hospital until you had been there almost a week," Dumbledore recalled. "And he had initially told them that you were all right, but had been moved to another hospital."

"Remus panicked," Aurellia said in her friend's defense. "He and my father, well...."

"I know," Dumbledore said wearily. "I've already heard about how they don't get along, and that Remus feels a little intimidated by your father. Don't misunderstand. I'm not faulting Remus. My concern is that... Well, frankly, I had no idea how in the dark your parents were about all of this. You should never have left the hospital and come straight here without speaking to them first. I agree, you must see them and tell them what you are doing here. In fact, can you leave Sunday? I want this whole issue straightened out as soon as possible. You will only need to cancel your Monday and Tuesday classes since the students will be leaving for the holidays on Wednesday."

Aurellia nodded. "Yes, that is exactly what I was thinking, headmaster. I can pack light, and I'll spend Christmas with them. I'll come back before New Year's. And I'm sorry about this. I never expected this reaction from my parents."

Dumbledore's brow furrowed. "I know you were adopted, but they are still your parents, Aurellia. They haven't seen you since July. You didn't think they would worry?"

"I know, but ... when I asked about going overseas my last year of high school, they never batted an eye. I don't think they ever said 'no' to any of the invitations I received for sleepovers or parties, or week-long camping trips and cross country ventures later. They were even less concerned with Luk's whereabouts, unless of course he brought one of his 'stray cats,' errr, social projects home with him."

"Social projects?"

Aurellia gave a small laugh, but she also couldn't stop a tear from sliding down her cheek. She wiped it away absently with the back of her hand. "My cousin had a habit of bringing in these social rejects, hoping to reform them, help them out, and prove to Dad that people can mend their ways with kindness and a helping hand. Unfortunately, Luk's 'friends' proved him wrong every time. Two of them even stole a lot of money from Luk. I will say this: once a 'project' burned Luk, he never gave them a second chance."

"But not all of his projects failed," Dumbledore said. "There was Remus."

"Remus was not a project," Deveroux said quickly. "And you should have known that. He was a true friend, although Dad never saw that. In fact, Dad seemed to come down harder on Remus than all of Luk's other 'strays' combined."

"Yes, I get that distinct impression," the headmaster said drily.

"Luk always looked up to Remus," Deveroux said softly. "In fact, after Remus and Luk became friends, my cousin stopped the 'projects.' Dad never saw that, though. It's a shame how a man as intelligent as my father can remain so blind."

"Well, hopefully you can at least help allay their suspicions, perhaps even mend the bridge between your father and Remus. Speaking of Remus, I agree it is up to you on what you tell your parents, but if you want my sage advice, I would tell them the truth. All of it."

Deveroux nodded. "One of these days, I will tell them everything," she said. "But that is going to be hard, very hard. I don't think they will take it well. Dad gets very funny whenever his perfectly ordered world gets rearranged."

"Well, you must do what you feel you have to, within reason," Dumbledore said as he walked out the door.

Deveroux stood by her desk a moment longer before leaving the office and heading to her quarters. But the question still nagged at her, even after she went to bed.

What should she tell her parents?

****


Harry never felt so nervous about going to Hogsmeade -- ordinarily this was a fun, carefree venture away from the castle. But Harry now had a definite mission. He strode in purposefully to the new Muggle novelty shop, Sockets and Gears, Inc. Jaspine had gone to Dervish and Banges to get a blank sonoroball.

He was highly amused at the array of "curiosities" lining the shelves and walls: electric cord, plug adapters, light bulbs, bicycles, rubber ducks, batteries of all shapes and sizes, ball-point pens and mechanical pencils -- things Harry took for granted. However, Ron looked about the store curiously, occasionally picking up an item.

"Hey Harry? What is this thing, exactly?" Ron said as he held up a pen.

"Oh, it's a pen. The Muggle equivalent of a quill. You push that button on top, and then you write with the tip."

Ron did so, and looked at the point of the pen uncertainly. "It doesn't look like it would hold a lot of ink," he said dubiously.

Harry laughed. "The ink is already in the pen. You don't have to worry about ink wells."

"Blimey! How did they get it in there?"

"Here, I'll get one for both of us, and we'll take them apart when we get back to the castle, and I'll show you."

"Wow, I wonder how many times my dad has been here already?" Ron remarked. His father was fascinated by anything to do with Muggles.

Harry finally found what he was looking for: rope. There were large packages in plastic bags, marked Muggle Trick Rope. "Trick Rope???" Harry thought in amazement. But it was only ordinary hemp rope! Apparently one of Uncle Vernon's favorite philosophies had some merit to it even in the wizarding world--it's all in creative marketing. Harry studied the packages carefully. Each hemp rope was about a quarter inch in diameter and six feet long according to the package. Harry grabbed three bags and figured he could knot them together to make enough rope to tie Snape with.

"Come on, let's go," Harry muttered to Ron, who was holding a lightbulb and trying to figure out what it was for.

They paid for their items (Ron insisted on getting the pens), left the store and walked towards Dervish and Banges. They met Dean, Neville and Seamus coming out of the store, each carrying small paper bags.

"Hullo. What have you got there?" Ron asked.

"They just came out with a new series of 'Dark Cauldron' cards," Seamus said eagerly, his face alight.

"We all got six each of the new expansion packs," Dean added.

Neville nodded. "Me gram sent me some Christmas money to do what I want with, and I made sure to keep it with me at all times so I wouldn't lose it!"

"Say, do you two play? We can teach you, and they have all of the card types in there," Seamus said, and he pointed to the store.

"Well, we don't have a lot of time," Harry said. "Quidditch practice, studying...." plotting against Snape, he added silently.

"How much time does it take to learn?" Ron asked. Harry stifled a groan. Ron was easily distracted.

"One game is usually enough to learn the basics," Dean replied. "Then its learn-as-you-go."

"How long does one game last?" Harry asked.

"It depends," Seamus said. "Most games last anywhere from three to four hours. A quick game is about two hours."

"But I'll never forget that one game that lasted about a week," Neville said.

"Yeah, but we also had about twenty people playing it," Dean said. "Really, Dark Cauldron wasn't designed for more than twelve -- and then only if you are playing teams."

"What do you need besides cards?" Ron asked. Harry knew then that they would be going in there to buy cards, whether the red-haired teen could really afford it or not.

"Well, there's a game board, but both Dean and I have one, so you don't need to worry about that for now," Seamus said. "Get a starter pack and a couple of the boosters, and get a figure token. That lot will cost about one galleon and two sickles -- there's a sale, to promote the new cards!"

"Maybe we can teach you after the holidays," Neville said. "It's an awful lot of fun!"

"OK," Ron said cheerfully. "I've been thinking about trying my hand at it. You lot always seem to have a blast when you are playing it in the common room."

Harry and Ron waved goodbye to Dean, Seamus and Neville as they walked into the store.

"Ron, are you bangers?" Harry said. "Your mum will have a fit when she finds out you are spending money on a card game."

Ron shrugged. "I'll only get a few cards. Besides, the game does look fun, and you can't have too much of that nowadays."

Harry grinned despite himself. "All right, we'll both get some cards, then let's look for Jaspine."

"Someone call?"

Harry and Ron turned to see Jaspine walking towards them, sonoroball in hand.

"Hi," Harry said. "We got the rope."

"We were just on our way to get some Dark Cauldron cards," Ron added.

"You two play the game?" Jaspine asked.

"Ummm ... no, but we have a couple of friends who do, and they told us that they'd show us how," Harry said.

"It's okay, I suppose," Jaspine said. "I've played a few times. My brother Matis adores it, though. He plays regularly with some of the other Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws, mostly Roger Davies, Argyle Graytalon and Justin Fitch-Fletchly. Seems they meet about every other week. Don't know where they find the time. But if you guys want another player sometime, let me know and I'll join you. A lot of my cards are almost worn out, and I lost four in the last game I played a month ago."

"You ... you can lose cards?" Ron asked, suddenly uncertain of the sanity of buying cards that could be lost.

Jaspine snorted. "But of course! It happens occasionally. With the spells on the cards, you get smoke and burn damage. And for one-time use cards, or if you are socked with a nasty spell or curse, your card deteriorates entirely. Oh yeah, and you have to watch out for the Cornish Pixies. They'll pop out and try to steal your cards from time to time, so you always have to keep a card on hand to stop them."

"Oh," Harry said. "Sounds like this can be an expensive game."

"It can be, if you happen to be a gaming addict like my brother," Jaspine said. "For casuals like me, though, it's not too bad. All you really need is a starter and a booster pack or two. If you only play occasionally, say once or twice a month, that should last you eight months to a year."

Harry, Ron and Jaspine walked down the aisles, looking for the shelves which held the cards. It wasn't long before they saw two whole shelves filled with different types of cards. Each large deck or small booster pack had a moving picture of wizards dueling other wizards, warriors fighting dragons and giants, and hags stirring Potions in great black cauldrons. The deck boxes and card packets had shiny silver script which read: "For Sword Slingers: Wayfarers, Knights, Paladins, Aurors and Barbarians", and "For Do-Gooders: White Wizards, Gray Wizards, Aurors, Watchers and Healers," and "For Animal Lovers: Beastmasters, Dragon-Trainers, and Guardians of the Forest," and "For Potions Experts: Alchemists, Scholars, and Dark Arts Apprentices," and "For Masters of Darkness: Werewolves, Vampires, Black Wizards, and Dark Arts Apprentices," and "For Explorers: Wayfarers, Fortune Tellers, Cave Delvers, Treasure Hunters, and Vampire Hunters."

"Wow," Ron breathed, gaping in amazement. "There are so many kinds! How do you know which one to start with?"

Jaspine pointed down toward a shelf at waist level, and on the shelf were dozens of identical boxes, all of them bearing the jagged silver trademark Dark Cauldron script.

"Starter Decks For Beginners," Harry read. "Well, I guess that answers our question."

Harry also saw smaller boxes with tiny, faceless figurines that looked like they were made of light blue and iridescent glitter. He held up a box and peered at the figure inside. It was motionless, unlike the Hungarian Horntail model Harry still had from the Triwizard Tournament and the other magic figures and statues that filled several aisles in the store.

"Are these the tokens we are supposed to have?" Harry asked, a bit skeptically. Other than the interesting colors, the figurines weren't that impressive.

Jaspine nodded. "They are really neat. They will take the shape of one of twenty character types at random, and they move around the gameboard, fighting monsters, battling the evil wizard Caliban, battling other players... but you need to have a game going for them to do anything impressive. Otherwise, they remain dormant."

Harry nodded, and grabbed a token, a starter deck (which contained eighty cards), and two booster packs (which consisted of twenty cards each). Ron did the same, and Jaspine grabbed four booster packs. They proceeded to the check-out and paid for their items.

As they were leaving, Harry turned back and noticed the sales clerk, a younger man with short brown hair trying to talk two older witches into buying what looked like glowing pyramids and spheres atop transparent pedestals. He noticed a sign next to them which read, "Light up your life with a Shimmer Lamp -- Now On Sale! Only 5G, or two for 8G!"

"They are wonderful for illuminating even the darkest corners of your home, and they're brighter, safer, and cleaner than candles!" the saleswizard was wheedling in his most persuasive voice.

"I don't know," said the one witch, a stout woman with curly white hair and red robes. "My neighbor bought a couple of those things, and said she didn't care for them. Too high maintenance, and if you accidentally bump into it, you get blinded."

"Like this," and the other witch, a taller, thin woman with her grey hair in a tight bun tapped a large bluish pyramid. A high pitched humming emmanated from the lamp as the light inside it flared up, and Harry, Ron and Jaspine had to shield their eyes from the intensity of the light.

"Shimmer Lamps? What are they?" Harry asked.

"They're fairly new," Ron said. "Fred and George wanted to buy a couple with some of their Wizard Wheezes money, but mum absolutely refused, because she has to yell at them constantly to get their chores done as it is. Shimmer Lamps need a lot of care I guess, for some reason, and Mum said she didn't trust them to take proper care of them. Also, if you're not careful around those lamps, they can blind you."

"So I see," Harry remarked drily, squinting as he turned back toward the door with Ron and Jaspine in tow.

"He's right you know. They're cleaner and brighter than candles, I'll admit. But they're not all that practical," Jaspine added. "My mum and da’ think they are absolutely ridiculous. They say Shimmer Lamps are a passing fad like Dark Cauldron, but time will tell."

"Ooh, I can't wait to have a look at these cards!" Ron exclaimed as the three exited the store.

"Take my advice and don't open them until you get back to the school," Jaspine cautioned. "It's very easy for them to slide out after you've opened the pack. Matis lost three cards that way back in October."

Ron frowned. "I suppose you're right, but I really wanted to see what the cards look like. Hey, I wonder where Hermione is," he mused.

"She might be at the Three Broomsticks," Harry replied, shivering against the chill December air. "Anyway, I don't know about you guys, but I could do with a hot butterbeer right about now."

Jaspine stopped. "Oh! I completely forgot -- Matty's been busy with his NEWTS and preparing for the holidays, so he couldn't come down. He asked me to pick him up a couple of bottles of ink. I'll meet you at the Three Broomsticks." With that, she dashed back into Dervish and Banges.

Harry and Ron started heading towards The Three Broomsticks when they saw three familiar, hulking figures approach from their left.

"Oh no," Harry muttered. Seeing Draco Malfoy, Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle did nothing to brighten the holiday scene.

"Well, well, well," Malfoy drawled out. "Doin' some Christmas shopping, are we? Weasley, I hear they're having a bargain basement sale -- everything 99% off -- at the garbage dump behind Dervish and Banges. Is that where you are coming from? Phew! I thought I smelled something foul. But of course, how else could the likes of you afford to ...?"

"Oh button up, Malfoy," Ron snarled as he tried to walk past. But Goyle blocked his way, and the bulky teen sneered down on him with trollish eyes and clenched fists.

"What a motley little crew you lot are," Malfoy continued tauntingly. "The scarface, the pauper, the Mudblood ... and now I've noticed you hanging out with the psycho."

"So? What does it matter to you?" Harry said as he tried desperately to hold Ron back from wiping the perpetual smirk off of Draco's thin, pointed face.

"Potter, Potter, Potter," Malfoy drawled condescendingly. "I told you a couple of times already that who you associate with is everything in the wizarding world. When are you going to wise up and listen to me?"

"Oh, I totally agree," Harry said coldly. "But I would no sooner associate with the rotters you call 'friends' than I would join with Voldemort ... which would be the same thing, really, considering who you and your family hang around with. And by the way, you mentioned a stench earlier. I think it is coming from you."

Malfoy’s face twisted with fury and he lunged at Harry, who sidestepped him easily. Ron and Harry both drew their wands and faced the trio. Draco and his cronies drew their wands and attempted to outflank the Gryffindors.

"Three on two," Ron muttered to Harry with a hint of worry. "No problem."

"Back to back," Harry hissed out of the corner of his mouth. "We can take 'em."

But before anyone could make a move, Malfoy suddenly looked up over Harry's shoulder, mouth agape, and he lowered his wand and took a few steps back. Crabbe and Goyle followed suit. Harry turned to see what had frightened Malfoy and his goons, although he had a pretty good idea who it was.

Suspicion confirmed.

The tall figure of Jaspine Greggs (also known as "the psycho") glowered down at Malfoy and his cronies, who were still retreating backwards.

"Yeah, Malfoy," Jaspine sneered. "It's all a matter of who you hang around with isn't it?"

Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle were so busy staring at the sixth-year Slytherin that they forgot to watch their step, and soon Harry, Ron and Jaspine were treated to the site of the three Slytherins toppling backwards into a huge snowdrift.

"Ahh, the air smells much better already," Jaspine remarked nastily, never taking her eyes off Malfoy, who was trying to disentangle himself from his two sidekicks. "You idiots should watch your step when you are thinking of picking a fight -- or thinking of retreating with your tails between your legs."

"Merry Christmas," Harry called over to the three Slytherins in a cheery voice.

"Better hope no one mistakes you lot for Frosty and two Yetis or you could get hung up in a store window alongside the other Christmas displays," Ron called out.

"Nah, the shop owners around here have more class than that," Jaspine remarked. "Now if you're talking Knockturn Alley ... then maybe I could see it." And she shot an accusing look at Malfoy.

Malfoy and his pals almost looked scared as they extracted themselves from the snowdrift and began brushing snow out of their hair and robes.

"But of course Mister Squeaky-Clean Malfoy, star of Slytherin House and Snape's favorite little suck-up would never, ever be seen in such a disreputable corner of the wizarding realm. No, of course not! It must have been a case of mistaken identity."

Malfoy’s eyes flashed with hatred, and he fingered his wand for a moment, but when Jaspine put one fist on her hip and began twirling her wand with the other hand, Malfoy's wand disappeared into a pocket of his robe posthaste. "Come on," he muttered to his oafish friends, motioning for them to join him in a strategic retreat. "We'll deal with them some other time."

Harry, Ron, and Jaspine walked away toward the Three Broomsticks, howling with laughter.

"You know, Jaspine," Ron said as he grinned at the tall Slytherin. "You are right handy to have around sometimes."

Jaspine grinned back wickedly. "Ahhhh what are friends for, Carrot Top? Besides, seeing that Malfoy brat and his cronies getting drifted is a wonderful start to the Christmas season."

"The only thing that would have made it better," said Harry wistfully, "is if Colin Creevy would have had his camera there, to capture the moment for eternity. I mean, wouldn't it be great to watch them falling into that snowdrift over and over and over ...?"

****


Meanwhile, Hagrid and Deveroux were making their way down the long cobblestone pathways through Diagon Alley. Deveroux was practically dancing with excitement. She had only been to this place once before, and she and Remus Lupin had been in a hurry. They had to stop at Gringotts to exchange her Muggle money for knuts, sickles and galleons, go to Madam Malkins to get fitted for teacher's robes and obtain a less Mugglish wardrobe, go to Flourish and Blotts to pick up text books for both her study and her classes and then they had to report immediately back to Dumbledore to begin training at the Allee. There had been no time to windowshop and gaze at the marvelous, odd and magical items in the bizarre and wonderous stores that made up Diagon Alley.

"Hagrid, look at this!" Deveroux called out excitedly. "What is it?"

Hagrid gave a good-natured chuckle and retraced his giant steps -- for the dozenth time that day -- to where the Defense teacher was standing. She was pointing at a glass bowl filled with shimmering spheres the size of marbles.

"Those there? Them are gobstones," Hagrid replied. "The students like to play a game with 'em. Don' understand much about it, except any time you lose a stone, or if you lose the game, you get squirted with some foul-smelling stuff."

"Ewww," Deveroux replied, and she wrinkled her nose in disgust. "I've have more than enough of that thanks to Weasley and Weasley, thank you very much!"

"Listen, luv," Hagrid said, his eyes twinkling. "We best be gettin' to Eelyopps to get Snape's Christmas gift."

Deveroux chuckled. "Sorry, Hagrid. But not even in the heart of London have I ever seen the likes of these stores before!"

"Quite all right," Hagrid said. "It is a fascinatin' place, and with it all decorated up for Christmas, it's twice as magical. And anyway, I'm just right glad you are back up and about, and have those roses back in your cheeks, deary. Although whatever possessed you to pick a fight with Snape like you did...." and here he gave the elf a long, sideways and slightly reproving glance. "You woulda had a better time goin' a few rounds with Fluffy than with him, if I say so meself!"

"Must you keep scolding me about that, Hagrid? I mean, isn't the whole point of this trip to leave it in the past?" Deveroux replied, scowling a bit. "So I can try to mend burned bridges, so to speak?"

"Yep, it surely is!" Hagrid replied emphatically, the easy twinkle back in his eyes. "And with your knack for taming animals, I'm sure you'll find just the right owl for Snape. But if'n he don't want it, I could always use another owl meself, what with all the messages I been sendin' back and forth to Gab ... uh, never mind. I shouldn'ta said that out in public like this. I really shouldn'ta said that."

Aurellia giggled and her eyes twinkled with amusement. "I know what you're getting at, Hagrid, and don't worry. I don't think anyone could hear us even if they wanted to over the noise from all this activity around us. If Snape decides not to take him, then I'm sure you will find other ways for Mister Owl to earn his keep."

"Ahhh, here it is!" the large man exclaimed triumphantly.

Deveroux suddenly found herself standing in the doorway of a large cluttered store that smelled very much like the school's owlery, only more potent since the Weasley twins had recently tended to Hogwarts' owlery as part of their ongoing punishments. The store seemed to be bursting at the seams with cages housing a wide variety of owls, and every one of those owls seemed to be trying to outdo all of the others in the matter of drawing and holding her attention. There were Snowy owls, like Harry Potter's Hedwig, Barn Owls, like Lupin's Gremlin, Tawneys, Browns, Great Grays, even a proud Great Horned Owl like Rasputin. All of the owls were hooting, or squawking, or clicking their beaks, or ruffling their feathers, or biting their cage bars as they stared at her with great luminous eyes that said, "Pick me! Pick me!"

So, which is the owl for you, Snape? Deveroux thought silently as she and Hagrid perused the cages along each shelf and down each aisle.

She and the other faculty had heard about Rasputin from Dumbledore, and Aurellia had suggested that they all chip in to buy the Potions master a new owl. Hagrid had asked her two days ago if she would assist him in selecting just the right one. But now that they were here, the task seemed almost impossible.

Deveroux peered into each cage, and studied each owl carefully. Hagrid, meanwhile, had gone to the counter -- probably to pre-pay their purchase. After a while, Aurellia began to fear that they would have to leave the store empty-handed. None of these owls seemed to stand out from the others. None of them had just the right temperament. Even the Great Horned was a disappointment.

Then, off in a dark corner, away from the other owls, she spotted a large Great Gray Owl. Aurellia felt a tingle of excitement. This owl was different. This bird intrigued her, so she went over to the cage. The owl gazed back at her with cold, yellow eyes, its bearing aloof, disdainful. I don't give a rat's whisker whether you take me or leave me, he seemed to say. Quite frankly, I would be content to just sit here for the rest of my life and gather dust.

Hmmm, Deveroux thought as she stood next to the cage.

"Are you as ferocious and unfriendly as you look?" Deveroux murmured. "Eh grexhanahk a'eh heehn?" She held out her hand to the owl, her fingers centimeters from the silvery bars of the bird's cage.

The bird gave a loud hiss and snapped at her fingers, its beak making loud clicking sounds. The elf jumped back and gave a squeak of surprise. The owl continued to hiss at her, and it flapped its wings menacingly.

"Ooh, you're a mean one, you are!" she said to the owl. "I wonder..."

"Oh Hagrid?" Deveroux called out sweetly. "I've found him!"

"Oh? That took long enough," Hagrid said as he walked towards her. "This feller 'ere, eh? He looks a little like Snape, don't he? He sure looks right ferocious."

"He tried to take my hand off," Deveroux said wryly. "I think Snape will adore him."

Hagrid stared at the elf, then started to laugh -- a robust, booming sound. "I reckon you're right. I remember Rassy -- evil old buzzard of an owl, he was. I have a feeling that this grey monster and our Potions master are going to get along jest fine. And now, luv, you need to go find your owl."

"My ... my owl?" Deveroux stammered. "But I really didn't bring any money with me, and I've been saving up for fire parchment and gifts for my parents."

Hagrid smiled down at her. "While the perfessers were collectin' for Snape's owl, they also wanted to get you an owl. Many of 'em wanted to mend the fences with you. And besides, its time you gave poor Gremlin a bit of a break, don't ya think?" And here, Hagrid tipped the stunned elf a wink.

"Oh Hagrid!" Deveroux whispered, her face alight. She quickly ran over and gave the half-giant a big hug, which he returned. Then she broke away and once again started to peer through the cages as Hagrid proceeded with the unenviable task of covering the Great Grey, who was now hooting loudly and flapping his wings against the bars of his cage as well as snapping his beak in fury.

Which one, Deveroux thought as she peered at the owls. Which one for me? She walked down two more rows, then stopped in front of a cage that held a Barn Owl, much like Lupin's, only this one was a paler shade of brown. The owl stared back with large, intelligent brown eyes.

"Nhaliruh," Deveroux said softly.

The owl gave a soft hooo, as if replying.

"Hmmm...I like you too, but what shall I call you? You look very brave, handsome, and noble. Ah, I know what I shall name you!"

"Hello ... Fingolfin," Deveroux said as she gently lifted the cage from the shelf and carried it with her to the counter.

****


Harry, Ron and Jaspine found Hermione at the Three Broomsticks. She was talking with Lavender Brown and Ernie MacMillan over a mug of butterbeer. She looked up and started to wave when she saw Harry and Ron, but her hand froze in midair when she spied Jaspine.

"Hi," Hermione managed to call out, her tone forced. Ernie and Lavender turned and stared uneasily at the tall Slytherin.

"You guys go on ahead," Jaspine said. "I'm going to order a butterbeer, then I want to head back to the school and get Matty's ink to him." Jaspine turned and walked to the bar, where Madam Rosmerta was serving drinks to students and adult wizards alike. Harry had a feeling that Jaspine was making a hasty and uncomfortable exit -- even a dunce like Goyle would have realized the looks on his friends' faces were not exactly warm and friendly.

"Hi Hermione. Ernie. Lavender," Harry called back with forced cheerfulness. Ron took a handful of coins from his friend and followed Jaspine over to the bar to order drinks for himself and Harry.

"What was she doing talking with you guys?" Lavender hissed, her nose wrinkling as she glanced sourly over toward the bar.

Harry followed Lavender's gaze. Jaspine was cautiously sipping her steaming butterbeer and studying the room with cool, green, cat-like eyes that seemed to take in everything around her in one glance. In the midst of a pub packed with students and adult wizards, Jaspine seemed to stand alone in the middle of a small clearing. How does she do that? he wondered.

Then Jaspine made eye contact with Harry, and Harry returned an apologetic look. Jaspine gave a slight, irritated shrug, and took another swig of butterbeer.

"Oh, we saw her buying Dark Cauldron cards, and we were thinking of getting into the game, so we asked her about it," Harry responded a bit evasively. Hermione's eyes flashed and she stared at him disapprovingly, but she said nothing aloud. "Besides, it was kind of nice when the three of us walked out of Dervish and Banges together, because we had a run in with Malfoy and his two trained rats. They were spoiling for a fight, and we were going to give it to them, but when they saw Jaspine they changed their minds. They took off running after she joined up with us--against other Slytherins, can you believe it?"

Harry stole another glance at Jaspine as Ron left the bar and approached his friends' table, drinks in hand. Jaspine was polishing off the last of her butterbeer with one hand and throwing her green and white scarf over her shoulders with the other. Then she plunked the mug down on the counter, adjusted her outdoor cloak and left without a single word of farewell to Rosmerta or a wave toward Harry and his friends.

Bloody standoffish at times, that one, he thought.

"They fell right into a snow drift while they were backing away in fear," Ron clarified as he rejoined the other students with two steaming mugs of butterbeer. "It was hilarous."

"I'll just bet they did," said Ernie with a nod. He glanced over toward the exit to see the back of Jaspine's cloak retreating through the crowd around the doorway. "Jaspine's a mean one, she is. Meaner than most Slytherins, that is. Has a horrible temper when someone pushes her buttons! I heard that she's been called into Snape's office a couple times for things that would probably get the rest of us expelled on the spot. And don't ask me what things, because she'd probably pound me just for mentioning them. All I'm telling you is that she would have been out of here a long time ago if he weren't so partial to his own house, and if she weren't so bloody brilliant at Potions."

"Yeah, I'll never forget about hearing how she pounded the daylights out of Marcus Flint when she was a third year student," Lavender said. "I guess he had said something about Jaspine never being able to get on the Quidditch team because she was a girl, and how her family was all in Hufflepuff. Madam Pomfrey had to treat him for a couple of fractures, three broken teeth and two black eyes. Some of the braver students called him 'raccoon boy' for a week -- including Jaspine. He never went near her again, let me tell you!"

"I remember Flint having black eyes, but I never heard how he got them!" Harry exclaimed. "Blimey! And he has always been a big bloke!"

"Or how about that one fellow who tried to copy her Potions homework? Whats-his-name? That was last year!" Ernie remarked.

"Oh yes, Jeremy Snyder," Lavender said. "That no-good creep was in a sling for a week, and it served him right, if I say so myself. Jaspine doesn't back down from anybody. I heard she's even mouthed off to Snape once or twice!"

"She has the nerve to talk back to him?" Hermione exclaimed in horror. "She's got a death wish!"

"I don't think you have room to talk, Hermione," Ron disagreed. "Shrieking Shack incident? 'Nuff said?"

"I still can't believe you guys got away with that one!" Lavender exclaimed.

"Well, there were extenuating circumstances," Hermione remarked.

"Yeah, like the werewolf! Ow!" Hermione dug an elbow into Ron's ribs. "What was that for?" he complained.

"For being rude. He has a name you know. Professor Lupin was a good teacher. I don't care what anyone says. And as for the Shrieking Shack, that wasn't our fault, really!"

"We were barely involved," Harry added.

Lavender and Ernie shot Harry a look that quite plainly said, "Oh suure, boy wonder, you had absolutely nothing whatsoever to do with it."

"Well anyway, Jaspine hasn't done anything this year, I've noticed," said Ernie, "Not with Snape being in such an unusually rotten mood all the time. She's smart enough to know when to lay off. In fact, she's been a model student lately."

If you only knew, thought Harry. Hermione looked daggers at Harry and Ron and crossed her arms. Harry feigned an innocent look while Ron hid behind his mug.

"And by the way, we've only talked about when she sticks to using her fists, mind you," Ernie added darkly. "When she decides to get even using curses or -- Merlin help you! -- Potions, well, let's just say that I'm surprised there haven't been any deaths at the school. She hasn't had a mort-de-kai with anyone yet, but she's almost as bad as Snape when she gets angry. You guys had better be careful hanging around with the likes of her."

Hermione stared pointedly at her two friends, who exchanged nervous looks.

Just what kind of girl have we allied ourselves with? Harry wondered. For the first time in his life, he wondered if Malfoy was actually right when he called her "psycho."

Suddenly, Ron started snickering, and he poked Harry in the ribs. Harry looked over at the red-haired teen, who glanced over his shouder towards the door. Harry turned and saw Cho Chang entering the Three Broomsticks with two other Ravenclaw girls -- a petite sixth-year with shoulder-length light brown hair and ice blue eyes, and a tall seventh-year with short strawberry blonde hair and brown eyes. Harry gulped.

"Well? What are you waiting for? Go on!" Ron whispered, and he cackled with malicious glee as Harry turned bright red.

"Oh bugger off," Harry whispered back fiercely. But he left his stool and headed to where Cho was talking to her friends. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Fred and George at the bar, each with a mug of butterbeer. Unfortunately, the twins saw Harry and Cho, and they started singing. Their voices carried even above the din in the crowded bar.

"I'll be looooving yoooou alwaaays! And forevermore be truuuuuue, alwaaaaaays ...!"

"Oh stop it!" Harry hissed, glaring fiercely in their direction. The twins laughed but they desisted from their serenade -- mostly because Madam Rosmerta threatened to toss them out by the ear "if you two keep that racket up!"

"Hi Cho," Harry said, and he tried to keep his voice from cracking.

Cho turned around and looked at Harry. She gave a small smile, but to Harry, it was as if an angel smiled down on him.

"Hi Harry," she said, her voice soft and polite. "How are you?"

The blond girl started to giggle -- an annoying sound. The brown-haired girl gave a slight smile like Cho, and Harry noticed her eyes were red -- from crying?

"We'll be at the bar, Cho," the blonde said with another giggle, and the two friends went to the other side of the room.

"Did ... did you want to get something?" Cho asked.

"I ... I already got a mug of butterbeer. But I wouldn't mind getting another," Harry said. "It's pretty cold."

"Yeah," Cho agreed. "Pretty cold."

"I think we are going to have a white Christmas," Harry said after an uncomfortable pause.

"Yeah, I think so too."

Tense silence.

"Do you ... do you want me to get you anything?" Harry finally asked.

"No, that's OK. I have my Christmas money from my parents," Cho replied, and she headed to the bar. Harry followed, feeling more and more uncomfortable by the minute.

"I'll have a butterbeer, Madam Rosemerta," Cho called out to the pretty bar owner.

"I'll take a refill," Harry added. He watched as Madam Rosmerta collected his mug and went over to refill it. "I noticed your one friend ... is she okay?" Harry finally asked.

Cho's face fell. "You mean Gloria? She's pretty upset right now. She just received word today that her older brother is missing. It's as if Jagger just Disapparated into thin air. He has been gone several days, and no one has heard from him. Not a word."

Harry's eyes widened. He had heard rumors that there were witches and wizards who had gone missing, but this was the first he had heard of someone at the school having a family member go missing. Maybe the stories he had heard were more than just rumors, after all!

"Wow! That's awful," Harry remarked sympathetically.

"There's been a huge search called -- her father is head of the Aurors in London and southern Great Britain, so he has a lot of clout. But so far, they've turned up nothing," Cho continued. "So Deena and I have been trying to cheer her up, take her mind off the news. But it's not easy...I keep thinking of...you know, Cedric."

Madam Rosmerta came over to the two students and set down two steaming mugs of butterbeer before each of them. Harry and Cho paid her, and the bar owner went to wait on Professors Flitwick and McGonagall, who had just come in.

"Sooo," Harry said, fishing for a topic of conversation. "Looking forward to the ball at the end of the year?"

Cho shrugged. "I suppose. But it just won't be the same as last year ...." her voice trailed off, and her expression became sad, wistful. "You know, I first met Cedric here, four years ago. We both sat right over there." She pointed to a spot just across from them where Pansy Parkinson and three other Slytherin girls were standing together with drinks in hand and pointing in Ron and Hermione's direction as they whispered and giggled to each other.

It took every ounce of self control for Harry to keep from choking on his mouthful of butterbeer. He tried to keep his expression neutral, tried not to think about what had happened last year. After all, Cedric Diggory was very popular, and his death had been a painful tragedy.

"I still miss him, Harry," Cho continued, gazing sadly at that spot as if she could still see herself standing next to Cedric. "He was so special. So good looking, so strong in a quiet sort of way. All the girls were jealous of me when he asked me to the ball last year. The holidays won't be the same without him this year."

"Everything has changed," Harry commiserated. Thinking of Cedric caused a lump to form in his throat, and he could barely swallow his mouthful of butterbeer.

"Yes, I suppose so," Cho said. "I'm hoping things will calm down again soon. All of this talk about people disappearing, and demonstrations -- it's all probably some elaborate hoax. It must be. You can't believe half of what you read nowadays."

This time, Harry actually choked on his butterbeer. "What half do you think can't be believed?" he asked, half-jokingly, but he dreaded the answer.

"The half that says You-Know-Who is back, and getting more powerful, and that the end of the world is coming," Cho replied, and she laughed lightly.

Harry stared at her. "Cho, I don't know about the end of the world, but he is back. Remember? I was there ...."

"Yes, I know, but ...." and Cho looked at Harry like Fudge had when the Minister was questioning the teen's sanity. "But I've heard that you, well, you have abilities that most don't have, and you have funny spells ...."

"Are you talking about me being a Parselmouth? And who doesn't get a bit tipsy from time to time in Trelawny's class?" Harry asked, thoroughly annoyed by now. Cho was looking at him as if half in fear that he could call every snake on the island into the bar with a single word and a wave of his hand. Surely she wasn't thinking that he wanted to be a dark wizard like Voldemort! Surely she knew better than to believe the ugly rumors some of the Slytherins had been spreading about him! Surely she was smarter than that... wasn't she?

Cho's look softened, but there was a flicker of fear and uncertainty in her eyes. "I didn't mean to offend you. It's just what you said -- that You-Know-Who is back. It's hard to swallow."

"I agree, it's not easy to take," Harry said, trying not to let his temper get the better of him. He had not expected this type of talk from the intelligent Ravenclaw, and he was, frankly a little disappointed in her. "But I was there. I wasn't dreaming. I don't think I could have dreamed up something like what I saw."

"I'm sorry," Cho apologized nervously, and again there was fear in her eyes. Then sadness replaced the fear, and her voice was melancholy and reflective. "Harry, how did Cedric die?"

Harry's face reddened, but he managed to keep his voice even. "When we both touched the Triwizard Cup, we were transported to where Vold ... errr, You Know Who was. His servant killed him quickly. He wasn't tortured. He died painlessly." Harry decided not to mention that the servant was Peter Pettigrew, who was still widely believed to have died nearly fifteen years ago. No sense further inflaming an already touchy subject.

Cho nodded, and tears came to her eyes. "I still find it hard to believe he's gone. Well, I better go see how Gloria is doing," she said abruptly as Harry reached out a hand to comfort her. "I'll see you around, Harry." She pulled her arm away hastily as if he had just tried to bite it.

"See you around," Harry said as he lowered his arm dispiritedly. He made an effort not to look as hurt as he felt as he watched Cho walk away, and he suspected that he was failing miserably as he turned back to his friends at the table.

"I take it things didn't exactly go well?" Hermione asked delicately, her eyes sympathetic.

Harry shrugged, trying to act nonchalant. "She's still upset over Cedric Diggory, and her friend's brother is missing. Not exactly things that will brighten your holiday." And did I mention all the rumors going around that I can cast an Avada Kedavra just by crossing my eyes?

"Missing? Hmmm, so maybe those reports aren't just idle talk after all!" Ernie said.

"No, I don't think they are," Lavender said. "I heard about Gloria's brother. Very sad. We are all hoping for the best, but so far none on the missing list, so far as I've heard, have ever been seen again. Witches and wizards have been missing since before the school year started, and there are still no clues as to what has happened to them. Most people think that they are dead, maybe killed by You-Know-Who, maybe killed by someone else who wants everyone to believe that he is back."

Harry glared at that remark, but Lavender wasn't looking his way. Maybe she didn't mean it that way, he thought. He hoped.

"And some say that maybe they went away to join him, but I don't believe it. Jagger Hyran is a junior auror, and I've heard he's very brave. He would never abandon his duty or turn traitor," Lavender concluded.

"So was Manville, my brother Percy's friend," Ron said. "They never did find him, although my dad, Perce and even Alastor Moody searched for weeks. They finally gave up a month ago. Never cared for Manny personally. He was stuffy like my brother. But still it's scary. Two junior Aurors missing, and no one knows why."

Meanwhile Hermione gazed at Harry thoughtfully but didn't say a word.

Harry finished his butterbeer and left with his friends, casting a glance over to where Cho sat with Deena and Gloria. All three turned to look at him, and Deena let out another annoying giggle. You know, sometimes I bloody well wish I could cast a few curses just by crossing my eyes, Harry thought uncharitably.

Why was she so cold and suspicious of me? he wondered bitterly. Surely everyone knows me well enough by now to know that the rumors aren't true! And when she wasn't grilling me, she was reminiscing about Cedric! He then remembered what Arthur Weasley had said at the World Quidditch Cup: you can't go for looks alone.

End of Chapter 18

The Great Snape-Deveroux Grudge Match - Part II: Watcher and Hunter by Pigwidgeon [Reviews - 1]

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