Much Ado about Something

This is a story by the great Marisol, a German FF writer whose stories can be found at http://www.harrypotter-xperts.de/fanfiction?author=17037

Translated from German into English by Muggline

Disclaimer: Neither Marisol nor Muggline are making any money out of this. Everything you recognise belongs to J.K.Rowling.

A/N: Although ladyinthecloak can be very fast, the fact that I am posting two chapters in a row may be attributed to my own stupidity. She actually sent me Chapter 9 more than a week ago and I just lost the email... Thanks for sending it again and reminding me!

Chapter 10 – Much Ado About Something

"Could you please fill me in on the identity of that 'silly old cow' and the things she writes about me?" Snape said in mirthful irritation. He looked Hermione up and down attentively as she blushed and brushed the ash from her clothes.

"I did not expect to find you here," she murmured abashedly, trying to avoid his question.

"Well, that much is obvious," he answered dryly.

Harry and Ginny were also staring at Hermione in surprise. She frantically thought about anything she could say or do to wriggle out of this embarrassing situation, but she was aware that there was no other way but to tell the truth. So she stooped to pick the newspaper up from the floor, held it out towards Snape and said, "Last page."

He tucked it under one arm, went over to the sofa and carefully laid Albus Severus down on his back before unfolding the newspaper without a word. Harry got up and walked towards Snape, whose expression did not give away one single thought, as always.

"So, please enlighten us, Miss Granger, which part of Rita Skeeter's typically waspish contribution did flare your temper like this?" he finally asked, quite amused, after he had finished reading.

Hermione was astonished to see him obviously relaxed, and for one moment, she asked herself whether they had read the same article.

"May I?" Not even waiting for an answer, Harry grabbed Wulfric's Wonderful Week and immersed himself in the column. Hermione knew him well enough to recognise his frown for what it was: annoyance, slowly but surely turning into anger.

"I was upset because Rita Skeeter is a malicious, slandering and deceitful person who drags people through the mud," she stated calmly.

"Would someone please tell me what this is all about?" Ginny interrupted. She looked from one person to another, seeking information.

"Skeeter uses her column to hint at the fact that the Potions Severus sells to the apothecaries contain ingredients that do not belong there," Harry muttered through clenched teeth.

"The spiteful s..." Ginny blurted out. Her usually soft eyes flickered in a rage while she looked from Harry to Snape and finally at Hermione.

"Snake in the grass?" Snape suggested with just a hint of a cynical smile. Ginny grinned, but became earnest once more when Harry handed the paper to her.

"You don't seriously want to tell me that you are surprised by the way Miss Skeeter writes her articles, Miss Granger?" Snape addressed Hermione again.

"No, but..."

"So why does this upset you so?" he interrupted.

"Because I get worked up about the fact that she makes you appear to be a criminal who consciously poisons people!" she burst out.

When he looked at her, she felt the blood rush to her cheeks. The intensity of his gaze reminded her of their last encounter when he had penetrated her mind. Although he did not use Legilimency now, she had the strange feeling that he could look right through her. "You – you'd never do such thing," she added almost defiantly.

From the corner of her eye, she saw that Harry and Ginny nodded their consent while James grabbed the newspaper and started tearing the pages apart. Nobody bothered to stop his little game.

The corners of Snape's mouth twisted. "Wouldn't I?" he said with the velvety voice that always made the hair at the back of her neck stand on end. "Are you quite sure about that, Miss Granger?"

oOoOoOoOo

"Well, I wish you'd have done it in the case of Rita Skeeter's Sleeping Draught," Harry growled angrily.

Snape went over to an armchair and sat down. "I suspect that this article is just Miss Skeeter's reaction to our last, rather, well, 'hot' encounter," he said casually.

"You met her?" Harry asked, astonished. Hermione and Ginny also stared at him, incapable of believing that Snape had indeed been in contact with the unscrupulous reporter.

"I've not exactly met her. Actually, she waylaid me in my own garden and crept up on me from behind, armed with a scroll of parchment and a quill. She started blathering about a biography."

Hermione could vividly imagine Rita Skeeter cowering in the bushes, avidly observing Snape's house and waiting for him to finally come out, just to accost him and talk him into an interview. Nobody in his or her right mind would do something so extremely stupid, she thought.

"How did you react?" Harry asked curiously.

"I could not help but presume that I was under attack. Having been a spy for many years, prepared to be killed at any moment, I tend to react out of pure instinct when someone comes sneaking up at my back. I just could not help it. I am afraid that Miss Skeeter did not really anticipate that fireball."

"You set her on fire?" Ginny gaped at him.

"Just her hair," Snape answered in a matter-of-fact tone.

"You didn't," Ginny exclaimed. She tried hard to suppress the enthusiasm in her voice, but she did not quite manage.

"Yes, indeed, I did. As soon as I realised my regrettable mistake, I immediately offered her a special healing draught for burn blisters with a dash of hair growing tonic, but to my surprise, Miss Skeeter seemed in a great hurry to get away." His malicious smile left no doubt as to the intention behind the alleged fireball 'accident'.

"I don't believe it," murmured Harry, and a grin started spreading on his face, "but that explains everything."

Hermione was torn between an almost primitive feeling of Schadenfreude and some dull foreboding that Rita Skeeter had only just begun her retaliation campaign. Like almost nobody else, that woman knew how to find the soft spots of people and put her impeccably manicured fingertips into those wounds until she had their victims exactly where she wanted them to be. In that case, however, we still have the invaluable knowledge about her being an unregistered Animagus, she thought grimly.

Upon exchanging quick glances with Harry and Ginny, she saw the expression on their faces and presumed that they were thinking along the same lines. "Don't her hints bother you at all?" Hermione asked hesitatingly. Ever since Snape had read the article, nothing in his demeanour had indicated that he was infuriated in any way.

"It's only one of many," he replied, unmoved. "Whether someone praises me as a secret hero or someone else accuses me of being a murderer without a conscience – all these reports have one thing in common: they contain fewer facts than a Quidditch ticket. It does not matter to me which position the newspapers take towards my person – I am indifferent to their contributions. With one single exception, I must admit."

"Which one?" Hermione asked in surprise.

"Shortly after the end of the war, the Quibbler wrote that I might be the reincarnation of Weedle the Wanderer, the true author of the tales that Beedle the Bard had stolen and sold under his own name. Angry about the plagiarism that he could never prove, Weedle allegedly joined a secret society which followed some mysterious cult. The only known fact about this cult, they said, was that it allowed only people with extremely large facial features into the circle."

"I remember that one." Ginny burst out laughing. "I read it, too! That was by far the most absurd article among all the nonsense the Quibbler has ever published. I would never have counted you among its readers, though."

"Oh, I am not," Snape answered. His lips quirked with the hint of a smile. "They supplied me with one specimen copy. It was addressed to 'Severus Weedle Snape.'"

Harry and Ginny exploded with laughter while Hermione realised with a shock that Snape owned a subtle sense of humour beyond all those layers of self-loathing, indifference and impenetrability.

oOoOoOoOo

The following issue of Wulfric's Wonderful Week was sold out one hour after being published, and the wizards and witches working in the printing house had to work extra shifts to refill the stocks.

Ever since Harry had defeated Voldemort more than eight years before, all kinds of newspapers scrambled over interviewing him. In spite of the enormous sums they offered, Harry had refused to talk to them all those years. Every now and then, he could not help but make some very brief statements when pursued by extremely persistent reporters, but in general, no paper published anything but the few things he was grudgingly prepared to say: yes, he perceived the thankfulness of all those who admired him and held him in high regard, and he was happy about that, but he valued his privacy above anything else.

Wulfric's Wonderful Week was no exception, but with Ginny's and Hermione's help he had written a short and well-thought-out reader's letter, which had been printed among many others – albeit right on top.

"I haven't found the time to read it yet, I had so much work today," Hermione wailed as soon as she arrived at the Potters' that evening and threw herself on the sofa. Harry and Ginny grinned as she grabbed the open newspaper from the coffee table. "Half a page full of reader's letters?" she gasped, glancing over the respective page.

"Yep," Harry answered. "Loads of rubbish though, but there are some very interesting letters, too."

If you asked me whom I trust implicitly to brew healing potions I accept and take without hesitation, I would name Severus Snape, godfather of my youngest son, Albus Severus. Only few wizards and witches really know and understand how much they owe to this brave man – I do. Harry James Potter.

Hermione smiled when she read those words that she already knew.

"Only a few words, but this rag probably owes you the largest circulation one of its issues ever had." Ginny giggled while Harry grinned complacently.

"However, Severus will probably be anything but pleased," Harry pointed out. "He will accuse me of being sloppy and sentimental at his expense. Then he will deduct several thousand points from Gryffindor and draw a face as if he suffered from a violent toothache."

Ginny agreed with her husband, but Hermione did not even listen to her any more. Emendis Getwell, Head of the Department for Magical Injuries at St. Mungo's, had written a very indignant letter.

On behalf of St Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries, I would like to expressly point out that Mr. Severus Snape has been supplying us with medicinal potions for years and we have never had one single complaint about his potions. Each and every one of them has been of outstanding quality. We hold our cooperation with Mr. Snape in very high regard, and we are happy that such a talented Potions master is offering his services to us.

Some anonymous readers also made a point of defending Snape, but there were other, more doubtful letters.

I am glad that Rita Skeeter has uncovered the actions of this former Death Eater. With all due respect for the Ministry's acquittal, I would nevertheless rather refrain from ingesting anything brewed by Severus Snape. Ginger Gourmetter

"Maybe she should demand that all the bottles she buys from now on bear the inscription '100 % Snape free'," Hermione murmured angrily.

"Good idea, Hermione. You could recommend it to the apothecaries. This might help them to calm their worried customers." Ginny laughed and pointed her finger to another letter.

Recently, I bought some Anti Hiccup Draught. One day later I had a suppurating boil on my right arm. THIS cannot be a coincidence, now that I know who has brewed my medicine. Morgan Muddlinger

"Isn't he one of Mundungus Fletcher's pals?" Ginny asked. "I do not know where he's got his boil from, but it certainly isn't from Snape's potion."

They read the remaining letters together until Harry pointed at one of them and said: "This one steps into the breach for Severus quite determinedly, don't you think?"

Severus Snape certainly is not a sociable person, nor is he nice or polite. There are many known and unknown things one might hold against him. On the other hand, you might say this about everybody else, too. I am not so delusional as to pretend that I know who Severus Snape really is. But there is one thing of which I am absolutely sure: You do not need a clean slate to be a honourable person. Leontes Pearson

"Leontes Pearson? Do you know him?" Ginny said. Harry and Hermione both shook their heads.

"I feel as if I had heard that name somewhere, but I cannot remember the time or the occasion," Harry brooded.

"Maybe they have been in the same year at Hogwarts?" Ginny considered.

"Or he is just a friend," Hermione said after a short period of silence.

oOoOoOoOo

Just like Harry had expected, Snape was rather miffed about his reader's letter. "You should not have done that," he had yelled. But when Harry had argued that as a result, Severus got more orders than ever, he had pondered over some biting reply and finally shut up when he had not been able to think of any. It was true: the apothecaries virtually went head over heels to get Snape's potions. The fact that Harry Potter, hero and shining example for many people, had publicly declared that he trusted Severus Snape and even had made him the godfather of his son said quite a lot.

Ginny suspected that Harry's public declaration of trust meant quite a lot to Severus, in his own special way, even if he did not know how to handle this – at least she had told Hermione so.

The weeks passed by and people had almost forgotten about Rita Skeeter's article. Hermione had to admit that the journalist had definitely managed to keep herself in the news, and she strongly suspected that this had been her goal from the beginning. Nevertheless, she was glad that the malicious defamation was not a subject of public discussion any more and Skeeter had obviously lost her desire for revenge.

Every now and then, Hermione met Snape at the Potters' house, but most of the time she just passed him because he arrived as she was leaving or vice versa. They treated each other with restrained politeness, and more than once, Hermione was under the impression that he used these rare opportunities to give her a penetrating look, as if she had something to hide that he wanted to reveal.

oOoOoOoOo

Shortly before Albus Severus' first birthday, Hermione found an envelope with her name on it on her desk. She immediately recognised the spiky, compact writing. Although her brain ruled out every possibility of Snape sending her a letter, her gut feeling told her that he was the sender. When she read the few lines, she went pale:

"Go on, go on. Thou canst not speak too much; I have deserv'd all tongues to talk their bitt'rest." Act 3, Scene 2.*

Thousands of things crossed her mind, and she sat down as if she had been stunned. Then one thought shone through her mind as clear as a mountain spring: He was well acquainted with Muggle literature – and he knew it. He had probably known right from the start.

A/N: * From Shakespeare, "The Winter's Tale". If you are interested in the original text, go to This Page and search for a unique word, e.g. "bitt'rest". I recommend a quick glance of the list of persons in the play (right at the start, after all the copyright notes and legal disclaimers).