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Chapter 9



Hogsmeade Saturday





"I'm telling you this will help, Ron, just give it a try," Dean implored, between mouthfuls of scrambled eggs. "Goal keeping is goal keeping, on broom or on foot."



"I don't know the first thing about Muggle football," Ron protested, waving his fork around.



"Yes, you do, you are a goalie, just up in the air. Keeper is just a different name for it. /Plus/, this'll be a lot easier, just one goal, not three hoops."



"What are you two fussing about?" Ginny sat next to Dean and looked back and forth between the two.



"Dean wants to set up a goal, a /Muggle football goal/. He thinks a soccer ball is as good as a Quaffle to let Ron get in some extra practice time," Hermione explained as she passed Ginny the toast rack.



"Sounds like a good idea to me. Getting in some extra practice without the other teams figuring out what you're up to. You could just be helping Dean keep his football skills up to snuff," Ginny reasoned.



"THAT'S IT/! /You're helping /me/, not the other way 'round. I might even get some of the other footballers to join in for a little two on two or four on four." Dean beamed at the thought. "Yeah!"



"Hold on! I haven't said /yes/, yet!" Ron checked around the group, noting the raised eyebrows. "Oh, all right. Where and when?"



"How about the lawn next to the front court yard, it's fairly flat and we can use the wall itself as a backboard. I'll just outline a goal on it to shoot at."



"Shoot...I don't like the word shoot...sounds deadly, even if it is just a game," Ginny mumbled, munching on a piece of toast. "What the...?" She froze, staring toward the doors.



Everyone turned to see what Ginny was goggling at, to find Professor Twigg-Jones entering the Great Hall dressed in long sleeved t-shirt, bib overalls, tennis shoes and a baseball cap with her hair, in a ponytail, protruding from the back. She was swinging a denim jacket as she headed to her seat.



"Morning all." She stopped to greet them. "Isn't it a nice day for the first Hogsmeade Saturday? I always hated trekking down to the village when the weather was foul."



"Is that a Manchester United cap?" Dean asked, eyeing her headgear suspiciously.



"Too right; love my Man U! Why, who do you support, Mr. Thomas?"



"West Ham, of course!"



"/Bloody hell/, Dean! I thought you had better sense than that!" she gasped, faking a stagger backwards.



"/WHAT/! It's a good thing you're a Professor, 'cause them's fightin words', Missy!"



Everyone broke up laughing.



"Speaking of football," Harry interjected, "Dean is setting up a football goal so Ron can get in some extra practice before the Quidditch games. Pretty good thinking, that, don't you agree Professor?"



"Indeed. That's absolutely brilliant .. best idea I've heard in a long time. Are you going one on one or squad?



"Well, anyone who wants to help out can join us, so maybe four on four."



"You realize, of course, you're doing more than goal practice. You'll be building endurance and dexterity for our course work, too."



"We never thought of that," Dean agreed. "Maybe the other houses will get up football squads for a little informal tournament. That would be a first at Hogwarts - the D.A. League!"



Turning, Professor Twigg-Jones put her hand on Seamus' shoulder.



"Mister Finnigan, did I overhear you correctly, one day last week, discussing the pros and cons of various motorcycle engines for racing?"



"Yes, Professor." Seamus looked up at her, surprised. "Me Uncle Pat races and me Dad's his crew chief. I've been hanging around motorcycles all me life. Dad's promised to buy one for me, when I graduate from Hogwarts."



"Splendid! I'm going to be doing a tune up on Tut this morning. Care to lend a hand?" she inquired.



"Are you serious? I'd be glad to help"



"Fine, we'll go down to the courtyard after breakfast, if that won't interfere with your plans?"



"Well," feigning doubt, Seamus lifted his hands up and down like scales. "That's a tough one, that is. Play football or work on your cycle...play football or work on your cycle? Hummm?"



"Cheeky, Seamus, cheeky!" she laughed.



"I'll be ready when you are, Professor," Seamus replied, grinning.



Leaving the group chattering amongst themselves, she made her way to her seat.



X # X # X



"Morning, Filius," she patted Professor Flitwick on the shoulder as she sat down.



"Good morning, my dear," Flitwick answered. "Wonderful weather we're having today."



"Isn't it /grand/? But I know that awful winter weather is just poised to crash down on us next month."



"That's what I think too and I hate the cold rainy weather we get this time of year. I'd much prefer to skip right to the snow and get on with it. It makes the Christmas Holidays so cheerful too, don't you think?"



"Indeed." Turning to her left, she greeted Professor Snape. "Good morning, Severus. Pass me that marmalade, won't you?"



"Good morning. Certainly." Putting down the copy of the /Daily Prophet /that he has been absorbed in, he picked up the jar and turned to hand it to her. "What /are /you wearing?"



"Haute couture./ The/ thing this season for motorcycle maintenance, don't you know. Thank you," she added, taking the jar from his hand.



"Excuse me?"



"Look, if I'm going to be sitting and/or lying on the courtyard cobblestones in the dirt and leaves, I'm not likely to be wearing one of my good gowns, now, am I?" She spread marmalade on her toast, took a bite, and then continued. "Down and dirty calls for appropriate attire and I pride myself on being stylish."



She batted her eyelashes at him. Snape came so close to laughing out loud that he quickly pretended to cough into his napkin. Recovering, he looked her up and down with a raised eyebrow. "You look ridiculous."



"I do not! This is a very practical outfit for what I have planned."



"It's an absurd outfit for a Professor of this school."



"It's Saturday, so I'm off duty."



"That is beside the point; you have a responsibility, an image to maintain..."



"Oh, stick it in your ear, Severus."



"/What/?"



"Mind your own business!"



"You are my business," he whispered.



"But my clothes are not, so drop it," she hissed back.



"I'll drop mine .. if you drop yours," he growled at her through clenched teeth, but his eyes were twinkling.



Seeing the look he was giving her, Anna choked on her toast, sputtering and spitting crumbs. Professor Flitwick patted her on her back.



"Are you alright, Anna dear?"



"Fine...went down the wrong pipe," she managed to gasp, and then glared at Snape, who was regarding her with a look of extreme innocence on his face.



"Would you care for some coffee, Professor?" He reached for the carafe to fill her mug.



"You are such a putz!" she croaked.



"Cream...sugar?"



"You'll pay for this, Severus."



"Oh, I sincerely hope so."



She busied herself with her coffee, fighting not to smile, or /worse/, succumb to a fit of the giggles.



"Are you going to Hogsmeade today?" Professor Flitwick inquired, mercifully providing Anna with an excuse to turn away from Severus.



"I have some maintenance to do on my motorcycle, and then I may take it out for a ride. Would you care to join me, Filius, for a ride around the property?"



"Oh...well...I don't know..."



"How about a spin around the front lawn, then? Just so you can say you've been on a motorcycle."



"Let me consider it. I'll come down and take a closer look a little later this morning."



"Fair enough. Well, onward and upward. Filius." Turning the other way. "Professor Snape."



"Professor Twigg-Jones."



Anna rose, taking her coffee mug with her and headed out of the Great Hall, Seamus falling into step with her as she passed the Gryffindor table.



X # X # X



Half an hour later, as Ron, Dean, Harry, Colin and Dennis Creevey, Hermione and Ginny emerged into the sunshine of the crisp October Saturday morning; they found Anna and Seamus sitting on the cobblestones beside the big Harley, surrounded by tools, parts, dirty rags and curious students. Joining the crowd, they saw that Seamus did indeed know about servicing a motorcycle engine. Both of them had dirt and oil smudged on various parts of their faces and clothes, but they obviously could have cared less, so intense is their concentration on the job at hand.



"Once I get this plug reconnected .. there, got it...we'll need to adjust the air intake, Seamus. It seemed to be running a little rich for this altitude."



"I've about got this connection back together, so I'm almost done, too. Hand me that wrench, no, that one, yeah, thanks." Seamus tightened up the bolt. "That's it, finished. Now, you fire it up and I'll make the adjustments."



Standing and brushing off the dirt and bits of leaves from her overalls, Professor Twigg-Jones threw her leg over the back of the motorcycle and settled on the seat with the ease of someone long accustomed to riding.



"Ready? Fire in the hole." She switched the Harley on and turned the key. An enormous roar burst from the engine, startling some of the surrounding crowd, who hastily backed up a few steps.



Gunning the engine, she looked down at Seamus, who is listening intently. Reaching out, he adjusted the air flow, then the gas and even for the uninitiated ears of some of the students, the sound changed ever so slightly, becoming smoother, richer, and deeper; that familiar Harley 'potato, potato, potato'. Anna gave Seamus a thumbs up and he grinned broadly.



Then to the astonishment of all, except Anna and Seamus, the Harley literally seemed to take a deep breath and shake itself. Smiling, Anna took out her wand and with a few flicks, the tools and extra parts flew back into the storage box, and the rags collected themselves into a bundle and arched into a nearby dust bin. With another flick, the dirt and grease disappeared from Seamus' and her clothes, faces and hands.



Jerking her thumb, she indicated to him to climb on behind her. Sticking her wand in a holder on the handlebar, she held out her hand for his wand. Hesitating for only a second, he handed it over and she put it in a second holder.



Slowly, the motorcycle rolled across the courtyard to the arch leading out onto the Hogwarts grounds. Pausing, she shot a wicked grin back at the watching students and with an almighty roar they took off down the road, turning left onto the lawn and zooming down to the lake, to follow the track along the shore, till they are out of sight, but not out of the hearing. The sound of the motorcycle echoed across the lake and got louder as they came back into sight and flew up to the courtyard entrance.



Parking the big bike, Anna switched off the engine and they dismounted. Gesturing to Seamus, she pulled him around in front of the big machine. Handing him his wand, she patted the motorcycle on its headlight housing. The light swiveled up toward her, and /blinked/, then turned to look at Seamus.



"Tut, this is Seamus Finnigan. Seamus, this is Tut. You two have now been officially, formally introduced, and Tut will recognize you on sight, so you have my permission to sit on him and I may also let you take him for a spin, if I'm too busy to get him out there for a little exercise."



"Nice to meet you, officially, Tut." Seamus patted the bike. "You're a beauty, and I'd consider it a privilege to take you out sometime. Just on the school grounds, of course, professor."



Anna and Seamus shook hands. Tut looked from one to the other and then nodded.



"Splendid. Oh, be sure to always put your wand in the holder; it's to keep it safe, so you don't drop it or lose it accidentally, hitting some bump." Looking around, she leaned over and whispered, "It also gives Tut a bit of a boost, enchantment wise, but that's strictly between you and me."



"Yes, Professor."



"Hey, Seamus! If you're done playing motorcycle mechanic, how about getting out here and helping with our football practice, mate!" Dean shouted from the nearby lawn.



"Be right there! Thanks for the ride Professor." Seamus headed through the archway. "Bye, Tut."



"Thanks for helping with his tune-up, Seamus."



"Anytime!"



X # X # X



Anna walked over to an arched opening and observed the students gathered on the lawn below. Dean was showing Ron some basics for being a football goalie. A white goal outline had been magically painted onto the stone wall behind him.



"You don't have to catch the ball every time; you can punch or slap it to keep it from going in. Knock it away if you can't quite reach it to grab. And put these goalie gloves on, it'll make it easier to hold onto the ball."



"Blimey, where'd you get these?" Ron pulled the gloves on and regarded them curiously.



"Had them in my trunk, waiting for the chance to get up a game." Dean shrugged. "Just didn't get to it till now."



Some of the other students were sitting on the low stone wall bordering the lawn. Anna ambled over to watch, putting on her denim jacket.



"Mind if I join you?"



"Not at all, Professor," Hermione, Neville and Luna scooted over to make room.



"Call me Anna. It's Saturday; call me Professor in school, during the week, otherwise, I'm Anna."



"Are you sure?"



"I'm positive." Leaning closer, she whispered to Hermione, "Look, between you and me and the other D.A. members, first names are better than formal titles when shouting out a warning. Professor Twigg-Jones takes a lot longer to say than Anna. Everyone in the D.A. will be told to use first names amongst ourselves pretty soon, anyway. That extra second, if or when, God forbid, we need to yell a warning to each other, can save your life. Trust me, I know."



"Really, what happened?" Hermione gasped.



"I'll tell all of you, in time." Anna smiled. Then they turned to watch the boys start kicking the ball.



X # X # X



Justin Finch-Fletchley and Ernie Macmillan had joined Seamus, Dean, Harry, the Creevey brothers and Anthony Goldstein on the lawn. They divided themselves up into two teams, trying to match size and experience to have a fair balance.



"Hold on! If both teams are kicking goals at me, I'll be knackered in ten minutes!" Ron exclaimed as he sized up the situation.



"Don't worry, Weasley, we'll make a 'mid-field' line. If either team gets the ball they have to take it out past that line before they can try to score. That'll make it easier on you and more challenging for us."



"Oh, well, alright then." Ron smiled and then frowned. "I didn't understand any of that."



"Just be the goalie, no matter who has the ball!"



"Oh .. right."



For the next half hour organized chaos, in the guise of football, ran amok on the south terrace lawn. The practice had drawn a bit of a crowd and the students who knew the game tried their best to fill in their friends on the rules.



"Ron's doing fairly well, don't you think, Prof .. Anna?" Hermione commented, with not a little pride.



"Not half bad, considering it's his first game and all. He needs to learn to throw himself at the ball, though, stretch a little farther, but that also involves knowing how to fall and land without getting hurt. It takes a bit of getting used to, just launching oneself without hesitating. Hey! Off sides there, Colin!"



Stopping dead in his tracks to look over at Professor Twigg-Jones, Colin got hit in the back of the head by the ball.



"Ouch!"



"Oooh .. sorry about that!" Anna laughed.



"That's alright; I was a bit off sides." Colin waved and took off running again, rubbing the back of his head.



"I feel dreadful, that must have hurt." Anna leaned over, giggling to Hermione.



"Oh, my, what have we here?" Professor Flitwick peered over the wall. "Is this Muggle football? It looks very strenuous, all that running."



"It is, and this lawn is hardly a quarter of the size of a real field, Filius." Anna patted a space next to her on the wall. "Pull up a slab, stay awhile and I'll try to explain the basics."



"Excellent." He settled himself next to her. "You say the field is bigger, usually?"



"Nearly the size of our Quidditch pitches, but rectangular, with only one goal at each end .." Anna started to explain to him, when suddenly yelling was heard, coming from the courtyard behind them.