Snape sank into his armchair, the shock over the little parcel still written plainly across his face. It was early January — his birthday. The only person who had wished him a happy birthday in all the past years was Albus. Not in his wildest dreams would Snape have remembered it himself today. Birthdays and holidays had repelled him since childhood — his father had made sure of that. At Hogwarts, his fellow teachers had long since given up trying to wish him well.
He stared fixedly at the silver-glinting wrapping paper, brushing his thumb across its smooth surface. The green ribbon — she had even gone to the trouble of using Slytherin colors, organized down to the last detail, he thought.
He was about to reach for the bow when Lily appeared before him. He drew in a deep breath. She had been the last person to give him a gift — a phoenix feather and an ink bottle. He still wrote with that feather to this day.
He glanced toward the ceiling, as if he could find answers there. Why had Granger done this? The day before, she had approached him in the Great Hall to arrange to see him on his birthday — not to persuade him to stay on at Hogwarts. The realization hit him now, suddenly. Well, perhaps for that too, but she could have chosen any other date if she had wanted. She was sharp and had clearly noticed his state of mind both with McGonagall and in the Great Hall. No — he was certain she had planned it all down to the minute. At the end of her plan stood this parcel and her carefully chosen words: "Happy Birthday, Severus Snape." She had never before addressed him without "Sir" or "Professor," and there were no coincidences with Miss Granger. She had congratulated the man, not the teacher. Only, what she intended by it was not something he could presently discern.
His fingers played with the silver bow. What would he give himself if he had to? He could think of nothing at all that would bring him joy. For the courage alone — to even attempt to find him a fitting gift — she deserved some credit. A book, perhaps, but for an outsider it would be impossible to guess his taste… "When the social stress is once again at your heels…" Even here, he doubted it was coincidence…
Whether he liked it or not, Hermione Granger set his mind into motion. And he had to admit, after everything that had happened, there was indeed a creeping urge to take on a new challenge. That would give him a chance, at least for a while, to think about something else — not through literature, but by venturing into real life, which he would have to face sooner or later. Knowing the know-it-all, that was exactly her intention. She was brilliant, even now, before he had opened the parcel — he had to give her that.
For a moment he hesitated. Should he even open it? She would surely expect a reaction from him tomorrow — or, worse yet, a "thank you," which he would under no circumstances grant her.
He felt the gift as a child might, sneaking to the presents before they were to be opened. It was square, about an ell wide and a few fingers thick. A cardboard box seemed to conceal the actual gift.
Slowly, he untied the bow. It slipped to the side and the paper, held together only by the ribbon, came loose. With growing curiosity, he searched for the flaps of the brown cardboard box, which now revealed themselves. They seemed glued shut — only a firm, impatient jerk persuaded the box to open.
A round disc with circles and numbers looked up at him — a dartboard? It was strangely transparent, yet the individual rings and numbers were still clearly visible. He examined it from both sides, then turned to the other items in the box. Three blue pouches lay inside as well. He was anything but skilled in social games, and he hadn't played darts since his Slytherin days as a Hogwarts student.
Opening the fine cord of one pouch, he found four darts inside. A closer inspection showed they had no pointed tips. Though tapered at the front, each ended in a small, round tomato. A certain confusion took hold of Snape. This was clearly not a standard dart game.
To get to the bottom of it, he took up the enclosed instructions. Written information was always the best way to unravel a puzzle — be it potions or… this.
---
Social Stress Darts
We congratulate you on this dart game. Do you have humor and a touch of cynicism, and do you sometimes blow a fuse when dealing with other people? Good — you are sufficiently qualified to enjoy this game. We wish you much fun!
Contents:
One dartboard and 12 darts — four tomato, four mustard, and four honey darts.
Hang the dartboard somewhere you like to retreat to after emotional stress, where no one will disturb you.
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A moment later, Snape had the board provisionally fixed to the door with a charm. With an odd sense of anticipation, he returned to the instructions.
To change the transparent background of the board, take the green focus stone in hand and think of the person who has most provoked, annoyed, or otherwise ruined your day.
Snape lifted the pouches of darts and discovered, beneath them, a smooth green stone. As the directions said, he took it in hand. He was about to read further when the background of the board began to shift, morphing into a three-dimensional image — McGonagall, robes billowing, face twisted in a scolding glare.
Wide-eyed, Snape watched. She seemed to be shouting at him — as if she knew what was coming — but the room remained pleasantly quiet; McGonagall was as silent as a fish. That alone filled him with euphoria. McGonagall, silent?
As he returned his eyes to the paper, he wondered whether the board would work with an entire class of students.
*The person should now be before you on the wall. At this point, your heart should beat faster — they are now helpless before your darts.
Choose "Rotten Tomato," "Green Mustard," or "Sticky Honey" and fire away! As soon as your dart hits the photo, it releases the chosen substance in the form of small balls onto the target. The closer to the center you hit, the more thoroughly the projectile will spread its effect.*
Without hesitation, Snape took a tomato dart and threw it. McGonagall grinned — the dart had narrowly missed her.
The anger in his gut doubled, and he let two more darts fly at the Gryffindor Head of House. This time, success. McGonagall scraped the rotten tomatoes from her face with an expression of pure disgust, clearly cursing like a sailor.
Snape picked up the fallen darts, which instantly grew new tomatoes on their tips. Then he tried the mustard and honey darts. A short laugh escaped him — startling even himself.
After McGonagall looked like a tattered scarecrow, Snape returned to his armchair with an unusual sense of satisfaction and read the final lines:
*The game is ideal for solo play after moments of acute rage, but it can also be enjoyed in company. Remember: shared tomatoes are twice as many tomatoes!
The expansion set with another 12 darts (chocolate, cream, and lemon drops) and a blue focus stone, which summons to your board people you care about, can be ordered from Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes.*
Snape shook his head almost in despair. This round had definitely gone to Granger — Hermione Granger.
.
END OF CHAPTER
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