The Boy Who Lived A Bit [Snarry]

Chapter Thirteen

Harry hadn't seen so many people in the dining room at Grimmauld Place since Christmas. It seemed that every available member of the Order was there, all of them chattering loudly and gesticulating in their enthusiasm. The Death Eater attack on Hogwarts was big news and absolutely everybody seemed to want to talk about it at great length and at great volume. The one person that Harry most wished to see and hear from, however, was not there. Each time the floo had flared into life that afternoon, Harry's heart had leapt for his throat as he hoped desperately to see the lank black hair and the surly face emerging from the grate. Each time, he had swallowed his heart back down and told himself that the next time, surely, it would be Severus...

'Oh, Harry, Ron, isn't it horrible?' said Hermione as she appeared in front of them. Her eyes were red-rimmed with tears. Beside her, Fred and George both offered her hankies at the same time.

Harry gave her a wan smile. 'At least it failed, Hermione. You have to look at it that way.'

'Yeah,' added Ron, 'At least there's quite a few less Death Eaters around today than there was yesterday.'

'But poor Professor Sprout! And Firenze's brother! And that Ravenclaw seventh-year – what was his name again?'

'Alistair Addock,' murmured George.

'Alistair Addock,' Hermione repeated, dabbing at her face with Fred's handkerchief. 'He was a brave boy...'

They all nodded sadly. It was something of a miracle that the short battle had incurred only three losses for the side of light, but the losses still stung deeply nonetheless.

A large shadow passed over the little group as Hagrid tried to manoeuvre his huge bulk through the crush of people. Hermione put her hand on his arm, stopping his progress. 'Oh, Hagrid! Can you tell us what happened? Please? It's so difficult to get a straight story out of anybody at the moment!'

'Now, 'Ermione, you jus' dry tha' pretty face o'yours. It were all over so fast, like, I'm still no' sure o'all the facts, meself!'

'Have you spoken with Snape?' Harry interrupted. 'And Professor Dumbledore?' he quickly added.

Hagrid nodded his bushy head. 'Only briefly, mind. In t'infirmary afterward. He was brilliant, was Snape, weren't he? Only one to think 'bout gettin' his children out, he was. An' never left the 'Eadmaster's side for a minute. Not even one! Even though them Death Eaters was really layin' it on thick.' He grinned hugely at them all, his round cheeks rosy above the unruly beard. 'Now I know none o'you was too fond o' 'im, like, when you were in school 'n' all, but he's a good man to 'ave around in a fight, believe me. Prob'ly owe 'im for us still 'aving Dumbledore with us, I'd wager.'

'And how is Professor Dumbledore?' Hermione urged.

'Righ' as rain now! Madam Pomfrey patched 'im up in no time. Jus' a few scratches was all. He should be 'ere any tick o'the clock now, so you can all stop yer frettin'.'