Aspen in the Sunlight - A Year Like None Other

"Severus," called Dumbledore from his place in the centre of the staff seats.

"Yes, Headmaster?"

Harry had been managing to hold in his own laughter, as making fun of Aran at a time like this seemed so cruel. Especially since Harry had been displayed against his will on Samhain. Really, it wasn't funny, but his father's innocent tones were his undoing. He collapsed into giggles.

"I'm a bit concerned that Professor Aran may take a chill," said Dumbledore. "If you would?"

Feeling like he'd had enough of centre stage, Harry started to move back to stand by Draco. He was amused that his brother was still more-or-less hugging little Larissa, who had no way of knowing that Harry had returned.

"Lemme see! Lemme see!"

"Not yet, poppet."

Poppet? Harry mouthed at him as he took his place.

Draco shrugged.

"Very well, Headmaster," called Snape finally. He'd probably figured that Aran had twisted in the wind long enough. One complicated twirl of his wand, and Aran's own wand reappeared in the grass. Aran bent down to snatch it up, giving the students a clear view of his backside, which of course only led to another wave of hysterical laughter.

"I do believe my honour is satisfied," Snape announced as Aran scrambled to conjure some clothing for himself. Snape hadn't bowed to Aran before, not really, but now he did execute a smooth, sweeping bow, first to the students and then the teachers. "I thank you all for your witness to the redemption of my good name."

Draco seemed to recognize the brief speech as some sort of cue. Letting go of Larissa, he motioned that Harry should walk forward with him. They joined their father on the duelling field, and walked by his side as he left, striding straight past the red-faced Aran who was hopping on one foot as he tried to drag on his pants. Nobody else moved. Harry figured there must be some sort of tradition that the champion left first.

As they passed the row of teachers, Harry saw Galleons changing hands. Lots of them, but he waited to speak until they were well away from the Quidditch pitch. "I think the teachers were betting on the duel!"

Snape just shrugged.

"Well, I can't see why anybody would have backed Aran. Or . . . oh, God. You don't think they were betting on whether you'd kill him, do you?"

"I do believe the betting pool concerned the number of hexes it would take to satisfy my honour," murmured Snape. "And if you think the teachers are the only ones who were wagering . . . well, you aren't really that naÔve, are you, Harry?"

"I wouldn't bet on a thing like that!"

"Me either!" said Draco in an over-loud voice.

"Really," drawled Snape. "You wouldn't be involved at all, would you?"

That had Draco back pedalling a bit. "Well, what was I supposed to do when Professor Vector sidled up to me looking for inside information?"

"You didn't know any to tell her!" exclaimed Harry.

"Well, yes, but she didn't know that, did she?"

"The terms, Draco," said Snape in a rather stern voice.

"You took something from her? You cheated money from a teacher?"

Draco twisted a lip. "Please. All I asked for was an arithmantic theorem on the random pattern disruption caused by chemical imbalances genetically inherent in the brain."

Harry turned and just stared.

"All right, her words," admitted Draco, smirking a little. "I told her a bit about Greg's dyslexia and asked if Arithmancy as a discipline could be of help with some treatment. I'm not going to ask him to use those Muggle therapies Hermione goes on about, not if I can find something magical."

He said magical like it was a synonym for better.

Snape raised an eyebrow, obviously intrigued. "Did she have any ideas?"

"Yeah, some. I'll let you see what she gave me." Draco turned to Harry as they walked along. "You really should have left that stupid git to live the rest of his miserable days as a snake, Harry. He deserves it."

"How fortunate we don't all get what we deserve, Draco," drawled Snape. "A concept we've discussed before, hmm?"

The Slytherin boy coloured and started looking down at his shoes.

Feeling a little bad for his brother, Harry cast about for a distraction. "It wasn't really mercy," he admitted. "I was actually pretty afraid Aran would hang about here if he was stuck as a snake. Not that I'd have seen him around all that much, but still--"

Draco brightened, his eyes sparkling as he looked up. "Fifty to one Larissa would have adopted him. Her own personal snake. Like I need one living right there in Slytherin."

" You wouldn't have had to see him much. But she'd have brought him around to me all the time wanting to know what he was saying!"

Draco burst out laughing. "True, true."

"No doubt it would always have been variations on the same theme," said Snape.

"Yeah. Change me back, " said Harry. "Now I'm ten times as glad I made the choice I did."

"Well done indeed," said Snape, patting Harry lightly on the back as they entered the castle and headed for home.

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"So, last week of term," said Ron on Monday morning at breakfast as he speared a banger from a platter floating past. "Think your dad'll let you visit the Burrow during the holiday, Harry? Some, maybe?"

Harry nodded. "I think he will. And either way, I already know I can have you out to our place. You and Hermione both. Should be good."

"Just don't invite her out without me along," muttered Ron, staring at the doors to the Great Hall.

Harry followed his line of sight and saw that Hermione was still talking to Draco. She'd stopped him on his way in with Harry, a full ten minutes earlier. "Oh, relax already. They're just talking about Goyle's reading problem."

"Yeah, well still."

Harry was saved from having to reply by the sound of a spoon clinking against crystal, the noise amplified so that it would be impossible to miss. McGonagall spoke crisply over the lingering hum of student conversations. "Your attention, please."

The hall hushed as Dumbledore pushed to his feet from his place at the centre of the head table. "As some of you may have already surmised, Aaron Aran resigned from his post as Defence against the Dark Arts professor on Saturday afternoon. With only one week left in term, it's hardly worth engaging an interim professor to handle his classes. Therefore, all sections of Defence are suspended until the new term begins in September."

For a moment, there was no reaction to that except a startled hush. Then a few whoops could be heard. And above that, the noise of Neville shouting as he stood up. Neville.

"What about Professor Snape, sir? Can't he keep teaching us?"

Once the sentiment had been voiced, a number of other students took up the cry, calling out that Snape was brilliant at Defence and had taught them a lot and could easily take over from Aran.

Hermione was nodding her agreement as she took a seat across from Harry.

It was too far to the head table for Harry to tell if his father was embarrassed by the outcry, but he thought Snape might be looking a little bit abashed.

Dumbledore let the protests go on for a moment longer, then held up his hand. "Ah, but Professor Snape has other obligations he must see to."

"Well, there goes our ice cream contest in Potions," said Ron, a little glumly. "Your dad'll come back and make us brew something ghastly to make up for the sweets, I bet. I'd rather have Snape teaching me Defence, any day of the week."

Harry smiled. "Yeah. Me too. But you know, the headmaster can't risk that. What if one week of him being the official teacher in that class somehow made the curse land on him?"

Ron made a face, but nodded.

Dumbledore seemed about to say something more, but a new noise had him closing his mouth. Clapping . Harry couldn't exactly see where it was coming from. Somewhere in Ravenclaw or Hufflepuff. Thinking it a good idea, Harry began applauding vigorously as well. Several of the Gryffindors around him followed suit.