Gobstones in the Evening by WiCeBa

“Do you know, I think it was Flavious Flint, who turned this set over to me.” Ms Eileen said as she pulled an antique looking box from the cupboard. She dropped it gently into Harry’s waiting arms and gave him a wicked smile. “Half a point difference. Half a point.”

Harry lifted a corner of the cover off the box and peeked inside. Several Gobstones rolled out from a gold velvet bag.

“Of course, I don’t think Dumbledore turns a blind eye to students betting in school clubs the same way Headmaster Dippet did.” Ms Eileen said. “But I’d bet there are still some sneaky bets going on.”

“Probably.” Harry nodded.

He could easily see Ron picking up a Gobstones habit if it won him some pocket money. Ginny mentioned once that someone owed her a few sickles after playing a game. That had been for a Quidditch game though and Harry knew better than to bet against Ginny when it came to Quidditch.

Ms Eileen pulled out some parchment and a ragged quill and gently nudged him down the hallway.

“Although, if I remember rightly, Sev mentioned some of your professors gambling over a few school functions.” Ms Eileen’s head wobbled back and forth as she debated her thoughts. “Apparently, Dumbledore didn’t have anything unkind to say about that.”

“You think someone like McGonagall bet on games?” Harry asked, aghast at the thought.

He wasn’t sure why it shocked him, but in his mind, McGonagall was rather like Hermione. She seemed far more likely to denounce betting or anything even remotely illegal on sight.

“I know she did.” Ms Eileen snickered. “Fiercely competitive, that one. Sev mentioned her losing some high price to your charms professor once.”

“Flitwick!?” Harry asked.

“Never bet with dueling champions, Harry.” Ms Eileen said with a firm look. “They’re professional showmen and they can spot an easy mark.”

Harry shook his head as he climbed down the stairs. “McGonagall is too severe. She can’t be an easy mark.”

“Oh, no.” Ms Eileen said. “It’s not in the person’s demeanor,” She smiled. “It’s deeper than that. It’s about them, themselves. If you know someone is the competitive sort, you can rile them up and get them going with a few easy words. Once riled, all your Flitwick would need to do is push her along with a small starter bet.”

Harry wondered quite suddenly about Ms Eileen’s own gambling habits.

“A small price for a small wager, but she’s competitive, isn’t she Harry.”

Harry nodded again as they came to the sitting room. He spotted Snape seated in the far corner with a mountain of potions books to his right and a bubbling cauldron on his left.

“She’d raise the bet herself, having gotten lost in her own competitive nature.”

Snape clicked his tongue, seemingly at their conversation, but neglected to say anything. He turned a page on the ancient looking book in front of him and sneered down at it’s content.

“And that, Harry dear, is how you win yourself some easy money.” Ms Eileen said as she took back the box from Harry and slipped the cover off.

“But how did Flitwick know he’d win?” Harry asked. “What was the bet on?”

Ms Eileen turned and looked at Snape. “I don’t quite remember. Didn’t it have something to do with the Yule Ball Dumbledore held last winter?” She asked. “I remember you being put out about it, Sev.”

Harry shuddered at the thought of that night. He’d rather have forgotten about it and never have it brought back up again. Parvati Patil refused to speak with him for the rest of term.

Snape’s eyes flickered up at her. “A dreadful way to spend the evening.”

“Well, you could’ve danced, my love. That would’ve helped tremendously.”

Harry snickered as Snape soured and twisted back to his book. He almost wished Snape had danced. It would’ve put his and Ron’s mind off of Hermione and Krum at least.

Ron’s mind, more specifically.

“If I remember, you’ll be the first to know.” Snape said errantly.

“Shall we then?” Ms Eileen asked as she turned back to Harry. “I don’t believe we’ll get anything out of him for the rest of the evening.”

Harry nodded and dropped to the carpet. He pulled the stones from the sack and eyed them individually. He half wondered if his attraction to shiny things was a symptom of being six, or if he’d naturally be this interested in gobstones.

He did love the snitch and that was quite shiny.

All the same, the stones were pretty. He particularly liked the scarlet ones, though this set had far more emerald than scarlet.

“A crier, he was.” Ms Eileen said as she charmed the rug. Several circles appeared at once and slowly grew larger from the center. “Flavious Flint. He said he’d been gifted this set by his ‘dear departed auntie,’.” She snorted. “The liar, he won it off of Herman Woodsley, if I remember rightly.”

“Were Flavious and Herman friends?” Harry asked.

“In the loosest of definitions. Herman tried to win the set back in the very same competition I won it in.” Ms Eileen said. “He even offered to pay me for it afterwards.”

Snape sniffed and sprinkled something into the cauldron.

“But you didn’t take the money?” Harry asked.

Ms Eileen looked away and charmed the parchment so their names appeared at the top.

“I hadn’t needed any at the time.” She said with a tight smile.

Harry looked down and groaned inwardly as he picked through the stones once more. He wished he hadn’t asked that question, as money was a difficult topic for a lot of people, though Harry sometimes forgot.

He didn’t know anything about Snape’s finances, nor did he want to, but Ms Eileen’s reaction had been uncomfortable enough for him to keep his mouth shut from now on.

“Can I start with this one?” He asked, holding up one of the larger scarlet stones.

“A fan of house colours, are you?” She asked. “You’re welcome to it, though it’ll spray something awful if you lose. The scarlet stones stink more than the emeralds.” Ms Eileen warned. “A bit of old house rivalry to help the game along, you see.”

“Really?” Harry asked. “The Gryffindors didn’t charm Slytherin’s stones?”

Ms Eileen laughed. “The Gryffindors preferred the higher stakes from what I remember. They also refused to play with the emeralds and it was far more fun to watch that lot get sprayed by their own colours.”

“I’ll try not to change your mind then.” Harry said, feeling a bit more competitive than before.

Despite Harry’s preference for Gryffindors winning, he could easily see how his housemates might lose. They were far more willing to make bold moves in most games, which often wound up biting them back if they failed.

“You’ll have to try hard.” Snape said. “I don’t recall seeing ‘Potter’ on the gobstones club registry.”

“I never saw ‘Snape’ either!” Harry answered back.

He hadn’t ever seen the registry actually, so he had no way of knowing if Snape had or hadn’t played the game while he attended Hogwarts. He had a fairly good idea of what Snape had gotten up to while he was a student though and it likely wasn’t gobstones. He’d probably been in a dueling or potions club.

Snape sniffed again and stirred the gelatinous mess in his cauldron.

“Doubtful you would.” Ms Eileen said. “Sev wouldn’t have been caught dead playing in Hogwarts. He doesn’t play unless he’s sure he can take the competition.” She added before waving her wand at the rug.

The floor suddenly dropped out beneath Harry’s knees and seemed to swallow him.

“Oh! Sorry, sorry” Ms Eileen said as she helped Harry back up. “My knees can’t handle much these days.”

Harry nodded and tried to balance a bit more carefully.

“Alright then, in order to play, you’ll start by dropping one smaller stone into the playing circle.” She pointed to the largest circle she’d drawn with her wand. “Then, taking your larger scarlet shooting stone and with one knuckle touching the rug, aim it at that smaller stone. Your shooting stone mustn’t leave the playing circle.” Ms Eileen explained carefully. “If it does, you forfeit your turn and earn no points even if the smaller stone lands inside one of the point circles. Point circles, like their name suggests, have an associated amount of points you can earn. 10 points if you land inside the largest one, 15 for the slightly smaller one inside that one and so on until you reach 30.” She pointed to the tightest ring at the center of the rug. “Easy enough to remember?”

Harry nodded as he eyed the rings. “How did you win by half a point if they go up by fives?” He asked.

“Competition rules.” Ms Eileen said smartly. “Sportsmanship, the degree of difficulty in shots and appropriate form can make or break you there. Gobstones championships also have moving rings for an added challenge.”

“Oh,” Harry said, wondering why he’d never thought to attend one of the games before. It sounded more fun than he’d initially thought. “So how do turns work?”

“You have five small stones, so you’re allowed five attempts to earn points. If you’re shooting stone remains in the playing circle. After you’ve made five attempts, we tally however many points you may have earned and then I play. The first player to reach 100 points wins. The loser of course gets a face full of stinking slime.”

“Got it, do I start back over with no stones after you’ve had your turn?” Harry asked.

Ms Eileen shook her head ‘no’. “It’s rather like pool then,” Harry must’ve given her a blank look as she backtracked for a moment. “Your stones stay where they land and you’ll aim from that spot on your next turn, unless they’ve dropped out of the playing circle.” She leaned closer. “Keep in mind, if one of your smaller stones goes out of the playing circle, they’re dead until the game is finished. So don’t overshoot. If you lose a smaller stone, you only have four attempts when it’s your turn from then on.”

“Can I knock your stones out of the way?” Harry asked as he tried to gauge how much force it took to move the marbles and aim them correctly.

Ms Eileen smiled widely. “Of course, if you knock one of mine out of the playing circle, then I’m down a stone.” She flicked her wand and a small barrier grew from the floor around the playing circle. “We’ll start with a bumper round so you can get a feel for things. Next round though, best be prepared.”

Harry smiled and climbed to his knees. “Let’s play!”

——

Snape rubbed a damp towel over Harry’s forehead and hair, grimacing as it failed to clean much of anything. “You’d think the stink hex would’ve worn off of a set that old,” He said. “You’re not meant to walk away smelling this bad and covered head to toe.”

Harry coughed against the smell and twisted as Snape tried to scrub a particularly stubborn amount of slime from Harry’s cheek.

“She did say Gryffindor colours stank the most.” Harry said. “I thought they only covered you with a gross smell though.”

“No,” Snape shook his head. “That’s never been the case. You can’t charm this stuff to come off either.” He huffed. “You might need a bath.”

Harry blinked as dread pooled in his stomach.

“Is it coming off?” Ms Eileen called from the sitting room.

“Not very well.” Snape answered back. “I hope she’s proud.” He added quietly as Ms Eileen’s cackling echoed down the hallway. “Hustling a child like that.”

Harry tried to peel the foul smelling slime from his arm, but it stuck persistently to his skin. He was distinctly uncomfortable at the thought of having a bath. He’d have liked to argue against it as well, but the slime dripped down his collar and seemed to soak straight through his t-shirt. Aunt Petunia had despised Harry dirtying himself and his clothes. She hadn’t been careful when bathing him when he’d been younger and Harry couldn’t silence the quiet voice crying that Snape might not be careful either.

It was a highly illogical thought, as Snape was probably the most careful person Harry knew, given his profession.

Snape dropped the cloth and sighed.

“Have you got swim trunks? This isn’t working and I don’t think you’ll be able to get this off on your own.”

Harry shook his head no and continued trying to rub the slime off. He shivered as the memory of icy bath water flickered in the back of his mind. It’d gotten into his nose and Aunt Petunia had never been careful to avoid getting soap in his eyes.

“I’ll transfigure some for you. You can’t walk around the house smelling like this.” Snape said. He hooked his hands beneath Harry’s arms and helped him off the countertop. “After this is done, I’m hexing that game to explode backwards onto her the next time she wins.” He whispered beneath his breath as he nudged Harry through the hallway.

“What if I win though?” Harry asked.

“I’ll find a way to make that an exception.”

Snape transfigured swim trunks quicker than Harry'd expected. In the time it took him to peel off his clothes, change into the trunks and step back into the bathroom, the bath was already filled. He’d hardly had time to negotiate against any logical fears, to say nothing of the illogical ones. He knew Snape wouldn’t dump water over his head so fast that he couldn’t breathe or hold him down if he squirmed, but he worried all the same.

He tossed a quick look around, nervously trying to spy the yellow rubber gloves Aunt Petunia used to wear when she bathed Harry and sighed when he didn’t find any.

“I don’t know Black’s bubble charm, but I know a few charms that will make this a bit more enjoyable. Being covered in that foul substance can’t be comfortable.” Snape said as he waved his wand.

The water shifted and turned a multitude of soft glittery blue colours as a mountain of fluffy looking soap began frothing overtop. The bubbles popped quietly, each time giving off scents far more pleasant than the one coating Harry.

Harry inched closer and peered over the porcelain edge.

“Is the water warm enough?” Snape asked as he turned and rifled through a cupboard. “I might ask Mother if she has some kind of Gobstones approved product, that would—”

A quiet knock had them both paused as Ms Eileen’s voice echoed through the door.

“I don’t mean to pry,” She started, her voice was kind though Harry could still hear her smothered laughter. “But I have a few soaps that might help.”

Snape wrinkled his nose. He opened the door and hissed something too softly for Harry to hear.

A bubble popped again and Harry leaned closer once more.

He dipped a finger in the water and to his surprise, found it to be very warm. He knew he shouldn’t have been so surprised, but he was all the same. Warm water was tremendously more pleasant than the cold water he’d anticipated. He tried to contain his excitement at the colours and bubbles as well, which Harry’d only experienced once before, when he’d snuck into the Prefect’s Bathroom at Hogwarts.

He’d been deeply uncomfortable at that time, as Moaning Myrtle had been lingering nearby.

The door slid shut as Harry stepped into the bath and found that it was far more enjoyable when he wasn’t being watched by ghosts or scrubbed raw by his aunt. The bubbles doubled and grew around him, changing from dark purple to lavender and blue.

Harry felt the oddest urge to try and catch one but wound up splashing the tiles.

“I’m glad it has your seal of approval.” Snape said as he rolled his sleeves up. He waved his wand and some of the soap separated before transforming into a small fluffy seal. “Lily was quite good at charms like these.” He added, waving his wand again. A few soapy dolphins joined the seal and swam rings around Harry. “She used to practice with the Giant Squid and litres of bubble bath.”

Harry smiled. He imagined it’d have been funny watching the Giant Squid swimming with soap animals.

Snape took up a washcloth and set to work attempting to rid Harry of the foul smelling slime.

Before Harry could be nervous by Snape’s movement, a hazy humpback whale breached the surface and cut through the water before swimming nearby.

Harry silently imagined a series of adventures for the small animals to experience as Snape worked. He could easily see the whale as a very wise sort of character, he seemed to be the smart kind. His movements were sleek and slow.

The dolphins reminded Harry of first years, though the dolphins had much more grace.

The seal was Harry’s favourite. He hadn’t been bothered by Harry splashing him or by the mountains of bubbles that towered over him. He reminded Harry of a man he’d seen in London when he’d been actually six. Aunt Petunia called him a dirty hippie, but Harry disagreed with the title. He wasn’t sure what to call him, though he felt calm would’ve been somewhere in the title.

“Flint or Woodsley must’ve hexed Mother’s set to explode with something this persistent.” Snape said. “Either that or championship sets illegally raise the stakes.”

“I thought she’d said it was a regular set?” Harry said, half paying attention. He watched as the seal began floating lazily on its back. “How do they all know how to swim?” He asked, twisting and looking at Snape.

Snape smiled. “They’re made of water. Once they’re charmed, they keep their formatic memory in order to mimic it.”

Harry turned back and watched them more closely as the swam.

“Tip your head back, please.” Snape said as his long fingers scrubbed soft circles in Harry’s hair. Harry tipped backwards, though Snape’s hand kept him from falling entirely into the water.

He slowly poured more warm water over Harry before returning with the cloth.

Once he sat back up, Harry quickly spotted several of the dolphins beginning what he might’ve called water ballet, if he’d been more knowledgeable about the sport.

He trailed his fingers after them and tried to give them little bubble hats, but they moved too fast for him.

It wasn’t until Snape leaned back and pulled a fluffy towel from the counter that Harry realized they’d finished.

“You’re now what I would safely call, clean. Next time you play with Mother, let me charm your jumper and trousers.” Snape said with a warning look.

He helped Harry stand and dry off before bundling him up in the towel.

Harry’s teeth chattered as he waited for Snape to finish draining the bath. He couldn’t contain a slight whinge as the dolphins, seal, and whale were swept down the drain.

Snape turned and frowned as he blinked down at Harry. “Still cold?”

Harry nodded and shivered again.

“Are they gone forever now?” He asked as he peeked behind Snape. He couldn’t find where else the animals would’ve gone.

“Ah,” Snape’s eyes widened and he seemed to guess what Harry meant. He flicked his wand again, warming the towel before pulling Harry up into his arms. “They’re part of the water, they’ll always be present. We could turn the sink on and find them again.”

“Oh, ok good.” Harry said, dropping his head over Snape’s shoulder.

He wasn’t sure why it’d bothered him so much to watch the animals float away, but he was very glad to hear they’d never really be gone.

Snape hummed and rubbed a hand over Harry’s back as stepped down the stairs.

“Clean once more!” Ms Eileen said as they stepped into the sitting room. She’d set the lamps to a sleepy low light and pulled one of the knit covers down around her. “We’ll need to get you a smock of sorts before we play again.”

Snape sniffed and settled into the sofa. He arranged Harry comfortably against his front before pulling out the weathered textbook he’d been reading earlier.

“Or, you could go a bit easier.” Snape chided. “It’s not like Harry has excellent fine motor skills at the moment.”

Ms Eileen laughed. “Gobstones is a game for all ages.”

“I liked playing, I think a smock would be good too though.” Harry said drowsily. He hadn’t thought a bath and a warm towel would work so well to put him to sleep, but he supposed it wasn’t so different from showering after playing Quidditch. “It could be red and have ‘Potter’ on the back in gold.”

He quite liked that idea.

“A red smock it is.” Snape said. “And perhaps we can adjust the slime inside to not stick so persistently.”

Harry’s eyes slipped closed and he sank into his warm towel.

“That’s less fun.” Ms Eileen clicked her tongue.

Snape answered back, though his voice was muffled in Harry’s ears.

Harry understood now why Dudley had always enjoyed his game shows and baths at night with Aunt Petunia, despite how much he’d cried and screamed beforehand.

Ms Eileen’s games were much more fun than the shows Dudley watched though and Snape’s baths were significantly better than Aunt Petunia’s.

Harry sniffed and snuggled closer to Snape.