Lost in Translation

Chapter Five: Lost in Translation

"...scarcely believe you both acted so irresponsibly!" McGonagall's ire coloured her face a deep red. Her green glare pinned the two men to the chairs before her desk. "Yes, Severus is your partner in this potions scheme of yours, but Hermione Granger is supposed to be your friend! Did neither of you think of the poor girl when you were keeping your secrets?"

The two professors exchanged glances, neither of them possessing the courage to answer despite their Gryffindor pasts. For his part, Neville wasn't certain the headmistress wanted an answer. Hagrid was hoping young Longbottom would do the brave thing for them both.

"Well?"

Hagrid's mouth worked silently, stupidly. Neville sighed. No sense in trying to play "idiot in too deep" if his colleague had already claimed the role.

"She...Handmione, I mean..."

"She, what?"

"She seemed... happy. And I didn't know... I didn't think she had anything to do with Hermione."

"Didn't think, did you? Seems there's been rather a lot of that going round this term." She looked away for the first time since the interview had begun half an hour earlier. "You obviously thought about warning him." Neville realised his shock must have showed because she said, "Yes, Mr Longbottom, I knew the moment you left the grounds. And since it was no trouble at all to be so reckless for the sake of Professor Snape, it seems to me you shouldn't mind going to inform Ms Granger."

Neville's stomach churned. As scary as the headmistress could be, Hermione was truly terrifying if you got on her bad side.

"It's l-late, Headmistress," he said, not caring that his voice trembled. "And she might still be in hospital..."

Her lips thinned into a straight line, and he hardly dared to breathe. "Right," she said at last. "Then you'd best get to bed now. You've an early morning ahead of you. I'll have orders from the Auror Office waiting by dawn."

It was clearly a dismissal, and she didn't acknowledge his hasty bow or mumbled "Yes, Headmistress"; she was too busy glaring at Hagrid, who'd heaved himself to his feet as well.

"Sit down, Rube," she ordered.

Neville hurried towards the safety of the winding staircase.

~o~ ~o~ ~o~

Auror training was vigorous and meticulous, and it had allowed Ron Weasley to vastly improve in many areas in which he had once been severely lacking. Precision Apparation was only the least of those areas. So, it was no trouble at all for him to Apparate Hermione from the secure location inside St Mungo's...where Healers had determined that there was no evidence that she had been recently hexed...to her eerily immaculate flat in the night's darkest hours.

"I think maybe I should take you back," he declared after a quick glance round the place. He certainly hadn't left it so well-ordered after collecting all of her books in Giant-speak for further investigation. Even the plate he used earlier...he'd finally got a chance to eat that sandwich...was gone from the coffee table in the living room. "I don't know what happened; it's like one of those Muggle magazines about rich people's homes in here."

Having got over her second Side-Along of the day far more quickly than she would have thought possible...Ron really had improved!...Hermione focussed on blocking out the alarming sensations threatening to leave her (happily!) moaning on her pristine floor and let her own gaze scan the room. Everything looked normal to her, as long as she didn't count the gaping holes in her bookshelves. Had she had that many Giant-published books?

"You happened, Ronald," she told him. "Your mum taught me a self-tidying charm back when we were together. But it needs at least eight undisturbed hours to start working, so there was never any use trying it at the Burrow."

She moved closer to the largest bookcase and carefully viewed the titles. Something was telling her something wasn't right. Something that should have been missing wasn't actually missing. If she could just...

"Perfect!" she said, stretching up on her toes to reach a large tome on the top shelf.

Fortunately, Ron's training hadn't erased all of his faults!

Several hours later, she was doing her best to translate Giant-speak to English...it was as if her mind was in two places, and in one of those places her mind was very, very happy...while Ron scribbled notes into his little notebook when her doorbell rang sometime after dawn.

~o~ ~o~ ~o~

"We'll have to go, you know," Handmione murmured.

"I don't see why." Severus took advantage of her sleepy lack of co-ordination to pull her back against his cheek. "The ogre admitted he doesn't know his wand from the stick up Minerva's arse."

"True, but she knows." He knew the "she" in question wasn't the Headmistress of Hogwarts. "Or she should by now. At least I think she should...it was hard to concentrate on her thoughts while you were doing... what you were doing yesterday."

He felt his lips tug into a smug smirk. "I take pride in all of my work, Granger."

Her little tongue flicked out at him...which had the opposite effect on him to what she was probably hoping for...and he took it as an invitation. Once their mouths were free again, she said, "You've earned that pride, Snape, but that has nothing to do with why we have to go to Hogwarts. Hermione can't come here, and you certainly won't go to her."

Severus didn't want to admit that he'd just as soon have neither happen, so he said nothing.

"I know it's not what you want just yet...it's not what either of us wants...but we can't do this forever... can we?"

Again, Severus had no easy answer. Not one he wanted to give, anyway. He fell back on his old friend Avoidance, instead.

"Well, there's still no reason to make a special trip," he grumbled. "Not when she's not likely to go there before the troll's birthday, anyway."

"That's still a month away." Her voice was more hopeful than chastising.

"So it is," he whispered. "I suppose we'll have to wait."

And so they did.

~o~ ~o~ ~o~

"She said we're not to worry...she's got a plan." Neville couldn't read the stern expression, nor could his nerves stand the silence, so he pressed on. "She said everything will be set to rights at Hagrid's party. At the Yule Ball if not then."

After that, there was nothing more to tell, and it seemed like for ever before McGonagall said "All right" and waved him off.

But not before he saw a satisfied smile touch the corners of her mouth.

"Happy birthday, Hagrid!" Hermione shrugged out of her cloak before stretching up as Hagrid bent down so she could kiss his hairy cheek. "Sorry I'm so late. I had a bit of a disagreement with my wardrobe."

Grimacing at the kiss, Severus told himself the burning in his stomach was not jealousy. He told himself everything about Hermione Granger was too big, even as a voice at the back of his mind noted that she was just the right size. Ignoring the voice, Severus listened as the bloody imbecile laughed as though he had any idea what the witch was talking about.

Severus knew: his Granger had nearly been reduced to tears by his inability to transfigure the doll-sized party frock in purple sateen into the flattering ankle-length dress of sage green wool that he could now see was an exact replica of the one the other Granger was wearing. Obviously, there was more to his Granger's "shared consciousness" theory than he liked to admit.

Unaware of that at the time...though he supposed, now anyway, that he shouldn't have been unaware; she must have been right sometimes to still be a know-it-all more than ten years since she should have left school...he'd argued to no avail that it didn't matter since no-one else would actually get to see the thing. In the end, he'd been forced to resort to Legilimency and McGonagall's assistance to get the hand-witch what she wanted.

He turned away from the goings-on at the front of the room, hoping to lose himself in the crowd before the full-sized Granger spotted him. Luckily, Hagrid's hut was small enough that the twelve people squeezed inside were a crowd. Unluckily, she seemed to look straight through Lovegood, Longbottom, Hooch, and Vector to catch his gaze.

"Hello, Severus," two voices whispered when she reached his side.

Fortunately, that meddling busybody of a headmistress saved him having to answer.

~o~ ~o~ ~o~

The group that gathered in McGonagall's rooms after the party was much smaller than the one that had just celebrated the eightieth anniversary of Rubeus Hagrid's birth. Severus reckoned he wasn't the only one who could barely believe a word he was hearing.

"Don't you mean 'true love's first kiss'?" Handmione and Hermione asked as one. "According to Comnee-Faseendaz Stooltoroom's 'Arse Amatoreez Prideetay' chapter..."

"No. It's 'best lust's firs' shag'. Grawp muster got yer a clean copy." Hagrid smiled indulgently. "Giants ain't much fer monogmee. It's babes they want ter have ter keep the race goin', like."

Hermione and Handmione gasped. Severus appeared about to be sick. McGonagall looked livid.

"'Course, the baby part ain't really ne's'sary, but the shaggin' is." Hagrid grinned suddenly, quite obviously pleased with himself despite McGonagall's patent disapproval. "The other way ain't as easy, but I s'pose it can be done."

"Other way?" That was the other four all at once.

"'T'ain't easy," Hagrid cautioned, "but if yeh don' mind waitin' a while, t' spell'll wear off."

"How long?" Severus asked.

"Now, I ain't sure 'bout that. Giants ain't much fer countin'. A year? Mebbee three? I ain't sure."

"My career won't survive another three years!" Hermione was furious, and it showed in her tone. "Isn't there any other way?"

Hagrid eyed Severus sceptically. "Yeah, but...beggin' yer pardon, Sev'rus...I don' think it's likely."

The other four treated him to expectant looks. Severus's had a dash of surliness.

"Er... yeh'll have ter get another witch ter, ahh, take H'Mione's place."

Severus's eyes flashed rage at the implied insult, and he gripped his wand in a menacing manner. Minerva opened her mouth, no doubt readying herself to issue a stinging dressing down.

But Handmione and Hermione were quicker than either of them. "Over my dead body!" they shouted.

~o~

That seemed to settle it. In spite of Minerva's (half-hearted, Severus noted) protests, the Grangers refused to change their...single...mind. Severus was at once flattered and flustered: it was gratifying to think any witch was loath to leave him to the arms of another, but he was unsure of how he felt about his witch disappearing in an act of torrid lust and tangled limbs.

"One more thing, Hagrid," Handmione and Hermione called over their shoulders as Severus stepped through the gates with them. Hermione whipped out her wand...Handmione mimicked the motion, but was empty-handed...and both Grangers chanted, "Bo moolie-feelie manoo, fasooey bo homie!"

Perhaps it was because they'd spoken so vehemently, or perhaps it was down to there being two of them...maybe it was because even one of them was a much stronger witch than he was a wizard; magic gives no easy answers. But in that instant, magic gave their hex a much quicker result than Hagrid's had done:

Where his right forearm had been, a largish cat with silvery tabby markings appeared.

Appearing almost Confunded, Hagrid raised his arm to get a closer look. The tabby swiped at his cheek. A livid-looking Minerva also made a clawing motion. Severus bit back a laugh.

"That was not the hex Hagrid used on me," he whispered.

"No. The incantation wasn't related to any spell at all." She looked up at him, mouth serious, brown eyes full of mischief. "But by the time Minerva calms down enough to work out it's only a recurring compound transfiguration, I think they'll both have learnt their lessons. That is, if Professor Grubby-Plank hasn't hexed them to bits by then."

"You'll end up paying for that one."

"Perhaps."

Severus felt guilty for enjoying this other witch's cunning, so he gathered her close...telling himself it was to keep from splinching...then with a turn on his heel and a soft pop!, they were in The Dell.

"It's all right," his witch assured him as they entered the bothan. The other Granger wisely remained silent. "I'll still be; I'll just be back where I belong. And the right size too."

Her impish grin was reflected on the big one's face, but Severus didn't smile back at either of them. He wanted to tell the hand-witch that she belonged where she was and to Hell with the other Granger. She...his own hand-witch...was just the right size to suit his needs.

He didn't tell her any of that, however. "This is just sex," he told the witch he wasn't attached to, and two smiles grew on identical faces.

"Of course," agreed the other Granger. "The sooner we get started..."

The dress that his witch had taken such pains to have copied slid from her shoulders to pool at her feet.

It was odd, having a Yule Ball without a Tri-Wizard Tournament, but Harry supposed Professor McGonagall had been right: it was ridiculous to use risking children's lives as an excuse to celebrate. At least these kids will have better memories than I had, he thought.

Not just the kids, it seemed. Harry's eyes...like most other eyes in the Great Hall...followed the single couple dancing round the room, blithely unaware that the orchestra had been resting for the last few minutes.

Ron laughed, not for the first time, and nudged Neville. "You must be pretty chuffed, seeing it from the start and all."

Neville rolled his eyes. "I didn't want to go after them," he protested, also not for the first time. "I'd like to see you telling Minerva 'no' after everything, and her thinking it's at least part your fault."

"Imagine if she'd sent Hagrid?" Harry shivered at the thought.

"He'd have stayed to watch the whole thing. And taken notes!" Ron laughed at his own crude joke.

Neville flushed at how close it came to the truth.

~o~ ~o~ ~o~

This Is What Neville Had Found Three Weeks Earlier...

A green puddle of wool was on the floor just inside the cottage door.

Sounds of female delight falling from above left more than just his face hot.

A triumphant male roar chilled him to the bone, even as he rushed up the stairs to Snape's attic bedroom.

Finally, the moon-glow showed him twisted white sheets that barely covered tangled white bodies. There was Hermione Granger's blissfully smiling face...held in a rapturous Severus Snape's two hands.

Try as he might, Neville couldn't tear his eyes from the pair or from the nimbus he now saw wasn't moonlight at all. They glowed in one another's arms, oblivious to his presence.

Only when they began to slowly, reverently, make love again...Lust's first shag, my arse, Neville scoffed...was the spell broken, freeing him to leave.

~o~ ~o~ ~o~

"They'll probably call their first Hagrid Neville," Ron teased.

"I doubt it," murmured Harry, eyes still on Hermione and Snape, but his mind on his own unfortunate Albus Severus.

And then Ginny and Hannah and Katie were back from wherever they'd gone to gossip, and the men were ordered out of their seats and onto the dance floor.

Harry and Neville dragged their feet, pointing out the lack of music, but Ron shrugged and let Katie wrap herself in his arms.

"Can't leave the lovebirds to face all that attention alone," he said. "If we do, Snape'll turn nasty soon as they come to their senses. Hermione won't be much better."

Waltzing Ginny round the room, Harry wondered if they ever would.