Postal

Three

"Seamus," whispered Dean, "how long an absence is customary to give a teacher before we all pack up and leave?"

Seamus shrugged, looking back nervously at the door of the Potions lab. The class, which had assumed its usual tense silence, was waiting for Professor Snape to throw the door open with a bang and rattle its hinges. Double Potions with the Slytherins often began this way, although after four years it still managed to jolt them out of their seats. But today they had been looking cautiously over their shoulders for nearly 10 minutes.

Snape was never late. Even the Slytherins looked slightly perturbed. All except Malfoy, Harry noted, whose pale thin lips curved into a knowing little smile.

Hermione looked nervous, arranging and rearranging the powdered Basilisk Opiate and extract of Feramoan Root by the cauldron. "Do you think... something's happened to him?" she whispered.

"I solemnly hope so," sighed Ron, stretching his arms lazily-until Hermione poked him in the ribs with her wand. "Ow!"

"Be serious!" But she was smiling, despite herself. Then, "Listen... I've been doing a spot of research on the origins of that ring." She lowered her voice and Harry leaned forward. "And you're not going to believe-"

"-the number of points Gryffindor is about to lose for your disruption of my class... Miss Granger." That voice, silk and velvet with the merest hint of a threat. Her blood ran cold. Then, strangely, came to a boil. Snape could move as silently as a snake when he chose. And strike just as swiftly.

Harry and Ron sat up straight. Slowly turning, Hermione found her nose inches away from the row of black buttons rising up his chest, as a long-boned hand drummed lightly on her table edge. He bent slightly, those black eyes meeting hers for an instant. She swallowed with difficulty, trying to keep her face passive. "I think I'll make it... twelve this time," he said almost languorously. (Despite her distress, she couldn't help thinking how odd it was that House points had never before been allocated or detracted in other than increments of five.)

Snape's square shoulders turned away. As the other students bent over their parchment, Harry arched an eyebrow at Hermione. But she was too distracted to notice. There was a strange quality about Snape's voice. It lacked its usual... acidity. And she couldn't take her eyes away from his hands as they demonstrated the proper handling of Basilisk Opiate and Feramoan Root. Those hands. On that woman. Clean and elegant, but strong and powerful, capable of-

"'Mione!" Ron was tapping her from the next table with a slice of Shrivelfig. "Hey, wake up. And don't lean in too close to your cauldron, your face is getting all red."

Before long, Snape told them to go, but not before assigning them an essay on the potential ramifications of the misapplication of Viagroserum concentrate. (How the Wizards' Educational Council could allow them even as fifth years to handle such a potent solution was beyond Harry, who, glancing at his flushing friend, suspected that she might have accidentally inhaled a little too much.) Harry nudged Ron. Now would be as good a time as any to return the ring.

Snape had already hurriedly turned to go when Harry decided to seize the moment. "Um, excuse me, Professor Sn-"

"NOT NOW, POTTER!" He stopped, uncharacteristically, in an effort to check himself, continuing in a strained voice. "You may leave messages for me in the Faculty Lounge, if you wish," he said, before hastily disappearing through another door. The door to his office and private rooms.

As they turned to go, Hermione careened into Draco Malfoy who had been regarding the Potions Master's exit with some curiosity. He feinted a fall, delighting in knocking Granger's books to the floor, before swinging out the door, chuckling to himself in anticipation.

***

"Alright, Hermione, what did you find?" asked Harry, perching eagerly on the opposite bench. The library was, as usual, nearly deserted after dinner. (Snape had been notably absent.) Ron, swallowing the last of his rosewater fudge brownie, leaned forward.

Hermione glanced at Madam Pince's station. The elderly librarian was just disappearing into the Restricted Section followed by her stacks of reshelving. "Something about that ring's been bothering me. I thought I might have seen it before, but couldn't place where. Until I found this."

Hermione extracted a weathered volume from her satchel and slid it across the table toward the boys. She opened it to about three quarters of the way through and pointed at a picture. "Here, look." In the photograph, a younger-looking Dumbledore stood at a podium in the Great Hall. With his hand he was indicating at his side two smiling students facing the rest of the student body. Everyone appeared to be applauding except for one student at the Slytherin table with a familiar-looking pointed face set in a scowl. Of the two students beside Dumbledore, the girl, a fourth or fifth year by the looks of it, had dark shoulder-length hair, parted in the centre, warm brown eyes and a huge grin. The tall, gangly boy beside her, a seventh year, had short cropped black hair which showed off his hawk-like features. A triumphant smile tugged at the corners of his crooked mouth as he turned to look at his classmate with obvious pride. Both were holding up a heavy-looking golden cauldron, inscribed "Hogwarts Alchemy and Potions Award".

Harry inspected the boy's face in disbelief. "Is that...?"

"'Severus Snape (Slytherin) and Esmerelda Plofufnik (Ravenclaw) accept the Hogwarts award for outstanding achievement in Alchemy and Potions from Headmaster Albus Dumbledore (Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., etc),'" Hermione read upside down.

"So Snape got an award. Big deal," said Ron.

"Wait, there's more," she said, tossing another volume onto the table. Back-issues of the Daily Prophet from... Harry couldn't read the date as the gilded lettering on the spine had faded over the years with handling. Hermione found a page somewhere in the front and turned it upright for them. "Look here."

She pointed at an article just below a smiling photograph of the same witch in the Hogwarts annual. The picture must have been cropped from a larger one, as she was squeezing the hand of an unpictured individual as he hugged her shoulder.

Harry read, "'MISSING MINISTRY MEDIWITCH. Chipping Sodbury mourns the disappearance of the town's local mediwitch, Ms. Esmerelda Plofufnik, whose home on Puddle Dock was mysteriously ransacked and then burnt yesterday evening. Having received a call from concerned neighbour Alphonso Wilkes, Ministry officials arrived at the scene, but found no trace of Ms. Plofufnik or any evidence that she had been at home at the time of the incident. Sources say that shortly after the fire began, a dark cloud in the shape of a skull hung low over the premises. An inquiry into the cause of the fire is being conducted by Ministry officials. Any information regarding the whereabouts of Ms. Plofufnik or any other information regarding the fire may be owled anonymously to Mister A. Moody, Ministry of Magic, Department: Wouldn't You Like to Know.'"

He looked up at Hermione. "So? What's this got to do with Snape?"

"Look closely at the photograph," she said exasperatedly.

"Well..." ventured Ron. "She's really pretty."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Her hand, look at her hand."

Indeed, on her hand was a little unobtrusive ring with a rectangular stone. It was tilting in such a way that they couldn't make out the portion out of view but Harry was willing to bet that the inscription matched the one on the ring in his pocket. But he had to be sure.

"Ron, did you bring the map?"

Ron nodded and pulled the Marauders' Map from his fraying satchel. "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good," he droned, tapping the parchment with his wand. Immediately, lines sprang from the point he had touched until the entire of Hogwarts was clearly outlined. They saw three dots labelled "H. Potter", "H. Granger" and "R. Weasley" in the Library. The "Madam Pince" dot was still hovering in the Restricted Section. "If she's still here, the map will tell us who she is," said Harry.

He scanned down to the dungeons. "Okay, I've found Snape's quarters."

"Well, go on. Give over, is she still there?" asked Ron, squinting. The tiny dots were quite small, after all.

"Uh. Yeah," said Harry uncertainly. "I'd say she's still there."

"Well?" prompted Hermione. "What's her dot labelled?"

"I can't read it," he said flatly.

"You're the Gryffindor Seeker. Your eyesight's better than any of ours," said Hermione impatiently. "What do you mean, you can't read it?"

"Well, it's tough to tell," he explained, colouring slightly, "because the dots are sort of...er..." (he coughed) "overlapping."

Hermione frowned. Then her eyebrows flew up, along with the fresh wave of colour in her face brought on by dawning comprehension.

"Oh!"