“I do hope my letter was convincing enough,” worried Hermione to her friends as they ate their lunch. “I tried to leave ‘clues’ to the ‘Anonymous Former Student’’s identity that would point away from us. With luck, Professor Dumbledore is wondering which former Ravenclaw recently inherited a fortune!”
Ron snickered, “I’m just glad you were able to keep the phrase ‘greasy git’ intact. Since everyone calls him that, I don’t think it will be all that suspicious.”
“I just hope that a second Quidditch field is enough incentive for Professor Dumbledore to encourage Snape to cooperate,” sighed Harry. “I’d have offered more, but I can’t give up ALL my savings.” He noticed Ron, who had no savings at all, glaring at him. “Sorry, Ron.”
“Look, there’s Professor Snape!” whispered Hermione. “He looks awfully angry.”
Snape had just stormed into the Great Hall and taken his usual seat at the end of the head table. He answered Professor Sinestra’s greeting with a scowl.
“I don’t know, Hermione,” said Ron doubtfully. “He looks the same as always to me. I can’t tell whether he’s angrier than usual.”
“We’ll just have to wait for Professor Dumbledore’s owl,” reasoned Hermione. “I somehow doubt Professor Snape will mention the subject, after all.”
Thus, the three students went about their business until the next morning, when Hermione received the long awaited response. She pulled Ron and Harry aside in the Gryffindor Common Room and began to read:
“Dear A.F.S.,
On behalf of all the students of Hogwarts, I’d like to thank you for your generous offer. A second Quidditch field would be a welcome addition to our facilities, and thus we happily accept your terms.
Enclosed is the signed release form indicating Professor Snape’s willingness to participate in the proposed television programme. We must insist, however, on certain conditions designed to shield the muggles involved from undue exposure to the magical nature of our school and grounds. Thus, we require that the muggles be escorted by a Hogwarts professor at all times, and that filming be limited to the North gardens, the potions dungeon, and Professor Snape’s private quarters.
Assuming that our counter-conditions are satisfactory to you, we will await the arrival of the visitors at the location described below at 11 in the morning on January 14th.
We thank you again for your generous donation to the school.
Sincerely Yours,
Albus Dumbledore
Headmaster, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry”
When she was done reading, she flipped through the pages of the message and saw that Snape had, indeed, signed the release form, although with an angrier hand than his normally rigid penmanship. Another sheet contained a small map and instructions to the cottage where the “visitors” (as Professor Dumbledore called them) would be staying. The directions were conveniently given in Muggle terms, Hermione noted with approval, so the Fab Five should have no difficulty in locating it.
“This is splendid,” exclaimed Ron. “Professor Dumbledore actually got Snape to agree! I wonder how he managed it.”
“He probably threatened to hold you two back a year,” Hermione joked. “It’s not like you actually ever study, so it’s a plausible threat.”
“Have your laugh out our expense then, I’m just picturing old Snape’s face when Kyan tries to give him personal grooming tips.” Ron closed his eyes, a contented smile on his face. “Oh yes, just like that.”
“I can’t wait to see that myself,” added Harry. “But we’ve got two months to go!”
So our heroes had ample opportunity to exercise their patience skills as the term progressed. They studied, played Quidditch, and served several detentions with Professor Snape until the Christmas holidays, when Hermione went home and Harry and Ron went to the Burrow. And then it was time to return to school, and soon the Big Day came.
“I don’t see why I have to go meet them at the station, Albus. Why can’t we leave that task to Pomona Sprout or one of the other, more outgoing, faculty members? I agreed to participate in their little makeover, and I will do so, but I see no need to act as the school liaison.” Snape was standing in front of Professor Dumbledore’s desk, arms akimbo, leaning down to face the Headmaster, who was reclining comfortably with his feet on the desk.
“Come now, Severus, you brave Lord Voldemort on a regular basis. Surely you aren’t afraid of being alone with a dozen muggles?” Professor Dumbledore was not easily intimidated, especially not by the overdramatic scowls of Severus Snape.
Snape’s eyes narrowed in anger, “Afraid? Of course I’m not afraid. I just have better things to do with my day than to play chaperone to a pack of American muggles.”
“Now, Severus, that won’t do at all. This whole thing will go much more smoothly if you take it with good grace.”
“Sorry, Albus, but good grace wasn’t in the contract. I double-checked,” sneered Severus, “all that is required of me is that I submit to their ‘makeover’ and allow the images of said makeover to be used on their silly programme. It nowhere says that I must be pleasant.”
Professor Dumbledore shook his head sadly, “You never do make it easy on yourself, Severus. Would you prefer I send Sibyll along with you? She has such a way with strangers. Or perhaps one of the muggle-born students, like Miss Granger? I’m sure she’s quite capable of muggle social discourse, and would charm them quite nicely, however as she is still a student I couldn’t possibly send her alone.”
Eyes widened in horror, Snape snapped, “Definitely not. Sibyll would be predicting their deaths within minutes and as for Miss Granger,” he sneered, “I see more of her than I would like as it is. If I must go, I’ll bring Hagrid along. I’m sure he’ll be happy enough to engage in enough pleasantries for the both of us.”
“Very well,” Dumbledore nodded. “I’ll speak to him about it at dinner this evening. You two will need to make an early start, since you’ll be using muggle transportation.”
“Muggle transportation? How so?”
“Our visitors will staying the night tonight in Farsgrove, which as you know is the closest muggle town to Hogwarts. You’ll need to meet them there and bring them here in a way that won’t seem unduly strange to them. Thus, you will be traveling in a muggle vehicle known as a bus.”
“A bus. Not the Knight bus, surely?” Snape was a little confused.
“Not exactly, but quite similar. I’ve hired a driver so you shan’t need to worry about how to operate it. The bus will be waiting outside the castle for you after breakfast; it will take you to the cottage in Farsgrove where our visitors are staying. All you’ll need to do is see to it that everyone arrives at Hogwarts safely. We’ll have lunch ready for when you arrive, at which time our visitors will discuss their plans with you, and then the filming will commence.”
Snape scowled. “So be it. Just remember I expect you to uphold your end of this bargain.”
“Of course, Severus. Let us be off for dinner. I believe the House Elves are preparing bubble and squeak this evening, one of my favorites.” Dumbledore rose and motioned for Snape to lead the way.
“Everything is one of his favorites…” Snape mumbled under his breath as he left the room.
“G’Morning, Perfessor Snape!” Snape saw Hagrid waving his great hand in his direction. Always cheery, that one was. “Beautiful morning for a drive, don’t ye think?”
“Breathtaking,” answered Snape sardonically as he walked up to his giant colleague. “Has our bus arrived?”
“Yessir, it’s waiting for us out front. I was just coming to find ye.” Snape cringed as Hagrid clapped him on the back enthusiastically. “So who are these muggles we’ve been sent to fetch. All Perfessor Dumbledore told me was that they were friends a’ yers.”
Snape shook his head, “Not friends, merely temporary acquaintances. I doubt they’ll stay long.”
The two headed out the front gates of the castle to find a large white muggle bus waiting. Its engine was running, and its driver was standing beside its open back door.
“Hop right in, Professors, that’s the way.” Snape looked appraisingly at the driver. He was a portly man of about his own age, with shaggy brown hair, buck teeth, and a somewhat familiar look about him.
“Have we met, driver?” Snape asked.
“Shouldn’t think so, Professor. I hail from Kent, and rarely come this far north. It’s rare that Hogwarts requires a muggle driver, after all.”
“You’re a muggle, then?” This concerned Snape, since muggles theoretically were unable to find Hogwarts without assistance.
“That’s right, as non-magical as they come. But my best childhood friend is a wizard, and I’ve got a cousin who is a witch. So I know a fair bit about the wizarding world, which has proved useful in cases where a ‘liaison’ is necessary,” the driver explained jovially.
“I see.” Well, not really, thought Snape, but he saw as much as he cared to. He climbed into the bus and took a seat a couple rows back. “Shall we go, then?”
“Right away, Professor.” The driver closed the door behind Snape, and then went around to the right side of the bus to hop in the driver’s seat. Hagrid had already made himself comfortable in the front passenger seat, and began quizzing the driver about the many buttons on the panel between them.
Snape ignored the discussion in the front seat and stared out the window as the bus bumped and grinded down the road. He envisioned with dread the coming days, wondering what horrors these muggles would conjure up in an attempt to better his appearance. Hopefully I won’t end up looking too much like Gilderoy Lockhart, he thought. Lucky for me, I doubt there is much chance of that.