For the Love of Hufflepuff
Part Two: The Badger and the Serpent

by Christina Teresa

Chapter Three: Permanent Records

News of the Anti-Bully Charm and its effects on Snape quickly spread throughout the school. Most of the students, including some of the Slytherins, were anxious to learn it. With the exception of Professor Sprout and Hagrid, the other professors publicly denounced Veronica's actions because it set a bad precedent for dealing with teacher-student conflicts, but they managed to express their secret approval in private. Even the stern McGonagall gave Veronica a little wink and a smile when they passed each other in the corridor.

Though she didn't regret teaching Neville to defend himself, Veronica felt a little bad for Snape. Unlike Professor Balin who thoroughly enjoyed being evil incarnate, Snape didn't seem to enjoy anything at all. In fact, she couldn't remember knowing anyone who worked so hard at being miserable. Perhaps she had judged him too harshly.

For the rest of that day and through the next, Veronica got the distinct impression that she had hurt Snape's feelings badly. He usually glowered at her several times during each meal from his place at the staff table, but he didn't even glance once in her direction. And she knew that she'd really stepped in it after her lecture to the Slytherins on the defense of the Conjunctivitis Curse because Snape didn't show up at her office to complain.

Any twinge of guilt Veronica might have felt disappearedãat least temporarilyãwhen she walked into class after lunch. The fifth-year Gryffindors were all sitting in their seats beaming at her. On her desk was a gorgeous bouquet of winter flowers (from Neville) and a handmade card. On the front of the card was a drawing of a black badger throttling a silver serpent with its teeth. As she watched, the badger proceeded to make a meal of the snake. Inside, the words, 'Please stay!' were written in large, sparkling letters. It was signed by the whole class as well as several other Gryffindor students. She wanted to cry.

"When that charm hit Snape, it was even better than when Professor Moody turned Malfoy into the Incredible Bouncing Ferret last year," Ron told her. "Up until yesterday, I considered that the finest moment in my life."

Veronica tried to look disapproving, but couldn't help grinning. I would have paid to have seen that.

"I still don't think it's a good idea for students to use magic against teachers," Hermione said quietly.

Ron winced. "Why do you always do that? She's always trying to ruin my perfect moments."

Stanley held up her hand for silence. "Miss Granger has a point."

Hermione glared at Ron smugly.

"I don't want what happened yesterday to give you the impression that I advocate students having contempt for their teachers. Everyone at Hogwarts deserves to be treated with respect, even Professor Snape." Stanley scanned the faces of the students, trying to look appropriately severe. "Understood?"

They all nodded reluctantly.

Neville raised his hand. "We heard that you're going to leave after next term. Is that true?"

She nodded. "I have another job. I'm just filling in for the year."

"We've had three good Defense teachers in a row," Ron told her. "Our lucky streak can't possibly last. The next one is bound to be a loser."

"With our luck they'll probably foist Lockhart on us again," said Harry glumly.

Most of the class groaned. A couple of the girls giggled.

Stanley frowned. "Gilderoy Lockhart?"

"You know him?"

"Met him once." Veronica had found him to be an utter cretin. "He was your Defense Against the Dark Arts professor? Oh dear."

"We're getting to her," Ron said happily.

He was right, they were getting to her. As rewarding as her position was at the Madragora Institute for Magical Research, it never gave her the feeling of pride she was experiencing right now. She wished she could bring herself to tell them what they wanted to hear, but they couldn't understand how difficult it was for her to walk into this classroom day after day. She smiled. "I'll think about it. Now, do you mind if we get on with the lesson?"

*

As he had during breakfast and lunch, Snape refused to even sneer at Veronica during dinner. She tried to speak to him as he left the table, but he gathered his black robes around him dramatically without even glancing in her direction and stormed away to his dungeon. Veronica then went to her office and placed a fireplace call to the Institute.

First, she was confronted by the face of a hideous guard hag. "This fireplace is restricted," she said in a surly tone, "what's the magic word?"

"Fizzing Whizbees," she replied. The guard hag vanished and was replaced by the chubby face of her colleague and best mate, Win. His real name was Winston, but only his mother called him that. "Hello, Win."

"Hey, Vee!" He and Veronica had been in the same year at Hogwarts, but he was a Ravenclaw. His dishwater blond hair was tied back in an unattractive ponytail and he was sucking on a Sugar Quill. Despite his rather humble appearance, Win was one of the best researchers the Institute had. Not only was he a Charms expert, he could find anything. "How are the little monsters?"

She smiled wryly. "It's like being on holiday."

"If you're calling about the bet..."

With everything else going on, Veronica had completely forgotten about that. She retrieved her copy of yesterday's Daily Prophet and displayed the headline about the Cannons' triumph gleefully. "Somebody owes my five galleons!"

He scowled. "You'll get your money and I'll put in a little extra for the next time you go to Hogsmeade."

"Let me guess, Jelly Slugs?"

He nodded. "The extra large ones, please." he smiled nostalgically. "Honeydukes still has the best."

"Keep it up and you won't be able to stand under your own weight," Veronica said. "We'll have to levitate you around the office."

"Yes, Mum," he said, rolling his eyes.

"I go to Hogsmeade most Saturdays, so I'll pick them up this weekend." She and Hagrid usually had a pint at the Three Broomsticks on Saturday afternoons. "Say, Win, the other reason I rang is that I need you to send me everything the Ministry has on a wizard named Severus Snape."

He raised an eyebrow. "As in everything?"

"Please. And if you could de-charm the file and make sure it's, uh, combustibleãjust in case."

He grinned wickedly. "Sure thing, Vee. Severus Snape... " Win furrowed his brow. "Why does that name sound so familiar?" After a few seconds, a look of nauseated recollection came over him. "Oh, godãgreasy-haired, big-nosed git, walked around like he had a broomstick up hisã?"

"That's the one," Veronica said, cutting him off. "And please be discreet."

"Aren't I always? You'll have it by breakfast." Win paused and took the Sugar Quill out of his mouth. "We miss you, Vee. Graham was just saying the other day how much he longs for your daily love taps."

Veronica laughed. Graham, a former Slytherin (the only one she had ever met that was worth a damn), was her fellow Dark Arts expert at the Institute. Her 'love taps' were actually the daily Cruciatus Curses she would throw at him. They had been trying to discover a way to block the terrible curse, but all they ever got for their research were splitting headaches. Nigel, the other member of their group of friends, was the Transfiguration specialist. "You tell Graham that I still think he curses like a little girl. And say hi to Nigel for me."

The package from Win arrived by next morning's owl post as promised, but it wasn't until after classes that Veronica could devote her full attention to Snape's file. She read it through once. "Oh my... " Then she read it again to make certain she'd gotten it right the first time. "Oh dear. I owe someone a very big apology." She gathered his files and made her way down to the dungeon.

*

Snape doubted things could get much worse as he sat sulking in his dungeon office. Because of that stupid charm, he was the laughing stock of the entire schoolãand the worst part was that he couldn't even take it out on Longbottom. Dumbledore refused to even entertain the notion of sacking thatãwoman. In fact, the Headmaster seemed to find the whole thing rather amusing. A knock on his door interrupted his self pitying thoughts. "Go away!"

"Professor Snape, could I speak to you for a moment?"

A nasty grimace crossed his pallid features. It was Stanley. "You are the very last person I wish to speak to!" he snapped. "Unless, of course, you've come to tell me you've resigned your position."

"No, but I have come to apologize."

He opened the door and found the little woman standing there in her absurd yellow robes, cow-eyed, with an armful of parchments. "For what exactly? You've insulted me in so many different ways, it would help if you could be a tad more specific. Could it be for coaching Longbottom to make a fool of me in front of a classroom full of students or is it for accusing me of being the personification of evil?"

"The second one. I'm so sorry for ever saying you were like Professor Balin." She gazed up at him with such a sincere look of regret he decided to hear her out. Snape motioned for her to come in and sit down.

He remained standing, arms folded across his chest with a wounded expression on his face. "Why your sudden change of heart?"

The smile Stanley bestowed upon him was filled with joy and gratitude. "It was you," she said as if that explained it all.

"It was me, what?"

"You were the one who set the trap for Professor Balin. That," she paused, trying to search for an appropriate phrase, "dementor masquerading as a human being is rotting in Azkaban because of you."

Snape stared at her in disbelief. Even Balin didn't know he was responsible. No one knew except for Dumbledore and Alastor Moody. Moody, one of three Aurors sent to take Balin into custody, was the only one who survivedãjust barely. "How in hell do you know that? Did

Dumbledoreã?"

"No." She held out the parchments in her hand. "I read it in Moody's report. It was in your Ministry file."

He snatched the parchments out of her hand angrily. "How dare you invade my privacy!"

"I didn't think you'd tell me why you were so upset if I asked you."

"How very perceptive of you," he growled. "Where did you get this?"

"Weãthe Institute, I meanãhave access to virtually any file we want." She looked away guiltily. "Even the ones we're not supposed to have access to."

An unpleasant grin crossed Snape's face. Now he had the ammunition he needed to get this rule-breaker out of this school, once and for all. He was just about to gloat triumphantly when she said:

"Everything the Ministry has on you is there. Do what you want with it. I've already informed Winã my colleague at the Instituteã and he has already conveniently forgotten he ever sent it to me."

"Sorry?"

"Shred it, burn it, do whatever you like with it."

He studied the file in his hand. Everything the Ministry has on you is there. This was too good to be true. It had to be a trick. But when he looked in her eyes all he saw was infinite thankfulness. I wonder what Balin did to her? "Won't the Ministry of Magic object?"

"They'll never know," Stanley answered confidently.

"What about charms?"

"Win already removed them."

"Copies?"

"There are none. That is your one and only permanent record," she replied gleefully. "The one your mother warned you about. Win will put a dummy file in its place and seal it with an Unbreakable Charm. If they ever do manage to figure out how to open itãmaybe in a hundred years or soã all it will contain is a recipe for Chocolate Frogs. I figure Iã the world owes you a little something for what you did." She stood grinning at him for a few seconds then turned to leave.

"Does this mean you won't be teaching your Anti-Bully Charm to anyone else?" Snape asked.

"Goodness no!" Stanley replied brightly. "Starting tomorrow all my students will begin learning it. By the way, there's no counterspell, so I suggest you find some other outlet for your, uh, frustrations. I hear Yoga is absolutely wonderful for that sort of thing."

He glowered at her. "I'll take that under advisement." As soon as she closed the door behind her, Snape took his one and only permanent record and threw it on the fire.

*

During dinner that evening, Stanley caught Snape's eye several times and positively beamed at him. At first he thought her interest in him was romantic in nature, but then he realized she was just looking at him as if he was her best friend in the whole world.

Snape had hoped that her sudden affection for him would change her mind about teaching her charm to anyone else, but he found Professor Stanley was as good as her word. A few days after her apology, he forgot himself and yelled at Potter during Potions. He then spent the remainder of the hour trembling with fear. Grudgingly, he had to admit that this Anti-Bully Charm of hers was an impressive piece of magicãthough he'd rather be drawn and quartered than tell her so. He was curious to know how it worked. He was also curious to know why she looked as if she were about to hug him at any given moment; so he used her lecture to the Slytherins on the Shield Charm as an excuse to visit her in her office.

A kind smile on her face, she invited him to sit down. There was a plate of delicious scones on her desk. "I figured you'd be in to grouse so I nicked some scones from the kitchen. I hope you like blackberry."

"We're not friends," he declared, trying to look more dour than usual.

"Of course not," she said as she poured two cups of tea, "we're the deadliest of enemies. I'd be careful before you eat one of those. It could be booby-trapped."

"I don't want a scone." Actually, he did. It just so happened that blackberry scones were his favorite, but he was determined to remain strong. "And I don't want any tea."

She sat down across from him and pushed the plate of scones closer to him. He eyed them longingly, glared at her, then pushed them away.

"That charm of yoursãmarginally interesting little spell," he said blandly. "How does it work?"

"Who did you yell at today?" Stanley asked, trying not to laugh.

Snape sighed. "Potter. Is it a shield of some kind?"

"No," she replied, "the charm acts more like a mirror. The abuse is deflected from the bully's intended victim and bounces back onto the bully giving him a taste of his own medicine."

Then why do I feel such fear? He kept the question to himself lest she ask him what he's afraid of.

"So, what did you decide to do with your file?" Stanley asked as she sipped her tea.

"I burned it," he replied. "I suppose that makes me an accessory after the fact."

"Don't worry, I won't tell anyone."

"I still don't understand why you gave it to me. What's in it for you?"

She looked away from him. "I told you, it's just my way of saying thank you. Besides, I've seen our benevolent Ministry use those records more than once to bludgeon people who've made youthful mistakes. 'Do what we want or we'll accidentally leak your file to the press.' The late Barty Crouch was the worst offender, but he wasn't the only one. I have a feeling things are going to get nasty before long."

Very nasty. "A Death Eater under every bed. Yes, I know. I was there for all the fun the first time around, remember?"

"Of course." She paused and gazed at him shyly. "May I see it?"

"What?"

She tapped the inner aspect of her left arm. "You know, it. The Dark Mark. One doesn't get to see many up close."

Affronted, he jumped out of his chair. "No, you may not!"

She grinned. "Oh, come on. I'll show you mine if you show me yours."

"You don't have a Mark."

"I most certainly do." She removed her old-fashioned button-up boot and stocking. She pulled up her yellow robe to reveal a magical tattoo of a man in bright orange robes sitting on a broom. He was flying around her ankle, waving. "It's Paul Quinn, the Cannons' old Seeker. I was eighteen-- right out of Hogwarts. My friend and I had spent an afternoon at the Leaky Cauldron getting absolutely pissedã I mean, inebriated on Firewhiskey before we stumbled our way into The Silver Gauntlet Magical Tattoo and Piercing Parlor." She grinned sheepishly. "It seemed like a good idea at the time."

He snorted. "I hardly think a ill-chosen tattoo compares to the Dark Mark."

"Well, we all make stupid mistakes when we're young."

He shook his head and almost smiled. This woman had an uncanny knack of disarming him in the oddest ways. "It's not visible anyway."

She rose. "Just let me see your arm."

He sighed, held out his left arm and pulled up his sleeve. She ran her hand over his exposed forearm and the Dark Mark appeared for a few seconds. A Death Eater trick. He gaped at her in surprise. "Where did you learn that?"

"I'm a Dark Arts expert, I know things," she replied enigmatically.

He regarded her warily. Something in her expression told him she was hiding something. Lightening-quick, he grabbed her left wrist with one hand and pushed up the sleeve of her robe with the other. He ran his hand over her exposed forearm. Nothing. She looked more amused than offended, but that didn't stop him from feeling like a complete idiot. "I'm sorry."

"Think nothing of it," Stanley chuckled. "I get mistaken for a Death Eater all the time."

Snape was just about to let her hand go when he noticed that her watchband had slipped down, revealing a deep, horizontal scar across her wrist. "Another youthful mistake?"

She shrugged nonchalantly, but tried to pull her hand away. "I had a little accident when I was fifteen."

He took up her other hand and found a matching scar on her right wrist as well, underneath her sleeve.

She tried to laugh it off, but pulled away and rolled down her sleeves to cover the scars. "I was a particularly clumsy girl."

Stanley didn't seem the suicidal type, even as a hormonally deranged teenager (in Snape's opinion, all teenage girls were just to the right of insane). The question that he had been tempted to ask the other day came to mind once more. "What did Balin do to you, Veronica?" It was the first time he had ever called her by her given name. It seemed silly to do otherwise at this point.

She rushed to her desk, sat down and started shuffling through the parchments on her desk. "I really need to get to these essays. If I don't have them graded by tomorrow as promised, Miss Granger will have a fit. That girl drives me absolutely batty sometimes. I know I really should speak more kindly of her, after all she reminds me of myself when I was her age; always raising my hand, irritating my professorsã"

"Is that why Balin hurt you, because you irritated him?"

Silence except for her infernal paper shuffling.

"If you don't wish to discuss it just say so."

"I don'tãI can't," Veronica replied, "but thank you for asking, Severus."

***