Snapey Went A Courting

Snapey Went A Courting

It all belongs to Rowling, except what you don’t recognize.

Chapter 14 – Iolanthe and Quinn


Snape awoke because the book was yelling in his ear, “By all the Gods, you are drooling on me!”

Feeling like hell, he looked around the empty library and noticed that the sun was rising. Lupin was nowhere in sight.

He got up, cracked his back and headed down to the dungeons to take a bath and get into clean clothes. There was still the unpleasant task of notifying Hermione that their son had been taken by the Faerie and there was little hope of them regaining him.

If only she had agreed to marry him and move into Hogwarts. He sighed and accepted that he felt dead inside. Only a week of being a father and he had already failed his son. Damned Gryffindor!

He hadn’t felt this depressed since, well, of course he’d been in pretty bad shape during those many, many years of spying for Dumbledore and trying to protect the Wunderkind and his friends. He’d only had nine months of peace and quiet between the Death of Voldemort and this. Clean and dressed in his usual black robes, Snape climbed the stairs to Hermione.

When he got to the Infirmary he was greeted with the sight of her and the entire staff of Hogwart’s House Elves involved in some sort of a group hug or love-in. Elves, in all manner of dress from tatty tea towels to Hermione classic knit, were scattered about her, crowding her and treating her like some sort of Messiah.

Snape didn’t bother holding back his sneer. After all, the game was lost. The child gone. The reason for his being with her, wanting her, was destroyed. She was no longer his. All connection had been severed. They could both continue on with their lives as if nothing had ever happened. He blinked back tears and froze his face into an impartial mask.

Hermione looked up and saw Severus had returned to his Wizard’s robes. Usually she would have immediately seen only her old professor. But not now, now she saw him with new eyes. He was the man who had screamed at her because she had hurt him. The man who had rested his head on her lap, but she had refused to console. She felt bad about that. He simply was being himself. And she did know him. She was the stronger and she should never forget it. He only bullied when he was hurt, scared or sensed weakness. She had begun to differentiate between Snape the bully and Snape the man. And it was the mask of the bully that he used as his protection. She felt she understood now what McGonagall had tried to explain to her.

He would lie and manipulate to have his way, not just because he was Slytherin, but also at core he was afraid that if he simply asked for something he wouldn’t get it. And he had asked her to marry him and she had rejected him. The pain had been clearly etched on his face yesterday. And today, that pain had been replaced with despair.

If she hadn’t been so burdened with her own grief over the loss of their child, she would have comforted him. But, no, the pain was too raw.

“The House Elves have explained to me that there was no possible way that any Elf would take my child and replace it with a Changeling. Such things are the workings of the Faerie and none other. And they inform me that no Elf would ever make a deal with a Faerie. Do you concur?”

Snape nodded. Hermione inhaled deeply. His eyes, his eyes that were normally so passionate had a dead, dull expression. He had given up all hope. It was there clearly writ upon his face.

“So it is merely a matter of going to… who did you say was helping us? I was rather in a non-receptive state last night.”

“A half-breed Witch,” Snape quietly said.

“Quite. And she will tell us how to get Waldo back.”

Snape lackhe ehe energy to argue. He nodded again. “If you wish we can have some breakfast, either here or at The Leaky Cauldron.

She smiled wanly. “I need to stop by my flat first. Just to shower and put on something fresh. I’ll meet in you at the Cauldron in say, one hour.”

Snape again nodded, and he walked Hermione down to the entrance of Hogwarts. It was just one hour, but he had work to get done.

&&&

“Harry! Wake up, Harry!” Ron yd thd through the fireplace.

After a few minutes, a very sleepy Harry showed up. “Oy, Ron. Don’t you ever sleep?”

“You must be joking.” He smirked. “All right, here’s the deal. One, you didn’t get back to me on Hermione and how she’s doing and two, the harem’s been nagging me for you to come over. They all want to meet the famous Harry Potter. Seems they’re tired of me and want to drool over you for a while.” There was a giggle in the background and then a feminine voice trilled, “Oh, Ronnie. You are a sillykins.”

Harry raised an eyebrow.

Ron blushed, but continued, “So what say you come over? I’ve got an afternoon home game and we can all have a nice quiet evening together.”

About to beg off, Harry suddenly realized that he had only an afternoon training session to go to today and that Daisy was out of town, so there was no reason at all not to go. “Sure ‘Sillykins’,” he laughed. “Would sevenish be too early?”

“We’ll see.” His head disappeared for a moment and then, “Sevenish it is.”

Harry checked the clock and saw he had another half hour before he had to be at work. Fortunately, it was a half-day for him. He missed Daisy, but he also wondered how Hermione was doing. He’d owl the new mum from work, yes, that would be the sensible thing to do.

&&&


“Quinn, do you smell something?” Viola Iolanthe asked her colleague.

“Yeah, something abominable. Is that our first appointment?”

She shook her head, “I’m afraid so. They didn’t say much, just a suspected problem with the Fairie. Smells like—“

Quinn grunted, “Changeling.” He went back to reading his copy of The Independent. He turned a page and muttered, “Damn Yanks.” And then moved to the sports page.

Viola took a large swig of her double latte and adjusted her blackened eyeglasses. “Three, Two, One.”

There was a knock on the door.


&&&

Harry got to the office, feeling only slightly more awake. He put his feet up on his desk and leaned back.

“Whotcher?” Tonks put her head into his cubicle.

“Not much. Just waiting for the meeting to be called. Shacklebolt’s not in yet, though.”

“Say, have you heard from Hermione?”

“No. I was going to owl her.”

“Aren’t you two friends anymore?” Tonks seemed upset.

Harry noted that Tonks’ hair was a pleasant mixture of brown with gold highlights this morning, one of her more restrained days. Probably just old age setting in, Harry thought.

“What are you on about?” he asked.

“The papers. It started with the Daily Prophet yesterday morning, but now they are all involved. Calling for an investigation of Hogwarts, they are.” Tonks brought out a copy of the Daily Prophet and gave it to Harry.

Harry was confused. “When did all this happen?”

“Yesterday morning. I know it’s difficult when you’re a trainee and it’s a couple of days of midnight workouts and then you are put on morning shift, but really, you need to stay on top of things.”

“Didn’t see the papers yesterday. Daisy said that Hedwig had had an accident on ‘em. Poor bird’s getting old.”

“Daisy, now?” Tonks grinned.

Harry ignored Tonks’ remark, headed over to the fireplace and used some floo powder. He came back. “She’s not in. Dammit, Tonks, this is worrisome. Why didn’t she contact me?”

Tonks shrugged, “Maybe she’s at Hogwarts with Snape. That’s where I’d .”
.”

Harry had a bad feeling about it all. Later in the day he checked again, but could find her nowhere. The demands of his job were high so he had to put his concern on the back burner. Still, he wondered if that was what Ron had been talking about.

&&&


Hermione had eaten little at breakfast. She had tried to nurse Waldo, pseudo-Waldo, or whoever he was and he did take in some nourishment. However, she had this niggling feeling that he didn’t need it. That he’d just sit there and exist without anything. It was an eerie feeling that the feeding and changing of nappies was no more than some sort of a charade.

She’d made no attempt to talk to Severus. There was little point really. Until they reached Iolanthe, there was nothing to be said or done. They both pushed their food around their plates and drank their tea.

As she entered the Witch’s building, Hermione’s hope for the meeting lessened. The Witch was located a few blocks away from Diagon Alley in a rundown, office building. The lift was broken and they had to walk five flights up ramshackle and dirty stairs. The lettering on the door was hard to make out, “Viola Iolanthe and Finnegan Quinn, Investigators”

Waldo was still in her arms, quiet, so very quiet. And though she had changed him, there was this odor that seemed to be emanating from him. She sighed as Snape knocked and entered the office.

Hermione’s mouth opened in sh Th The office was quite a mess with maps, globes and atlases spread out all over the place. The windows were filthy. And there was the Witch herself with pinkish blond hair and wearing dark glasses at one desk. At the other desk, she blinked a few times, was a huge, white stoat. It was easily over six foot tall, wearing a Tam O’Shanter with a matching bow tie, tweed vest and trousers, and sporting a silver fob chain. Much to her horror, he did something with his snout, a smile perhaps, which showed off a set of very sharp, white teeth.

Snape stepped in front of her protectively.

“Well, there it is,” sighed Viola.

“Indeed,” rumbled the stoat.

“What?” asked Hermione.

“You’ve got a changeling there,” Viola wrinkled up her nose.

“Nasty thing,” said the creature.

“Now, see here,” Snape began.

“Oh, yes, where are my manners? This is my associate, Finnegan Quinn. You may have noticed that he’s a Pooka. And I am Viola Iolanthe. Our fees are a hundred galleons a day, three days in advance—“

Quinn cleared his throat. Viola nodded, “Right you are. In your case we are waiving the fees. It’s only fair since there is little we can do for you.”

“No!” Hermione started to breath quickly. “You’re one of them. You will do something.”

Snape, who had been expecting this all along tried to take her in his arms to calm her. She hit his chest violently with heee hee hand. “Off of me!”

She leaned across the Witch’s desk. “You do not tell a mother, ever, that there is nothing that can be done.”

Viola seemed to study the girl. “Quite. Put it down on my desk. Quinn, will you do the honors?”

The three Wizarding folk and one Magical creature stood around the desk. Quinn’s enormous paw traced a pattern in the air over the babe. The air seemed to thicken and a glittering, miniature cloud descended over it. Suddenly, as if a veil had been lifted, the Changeling became a collection of moldy leaves, with bugs, worms, twigs, dirt and excrement mixed in. The smell was intense, stifling. Hermione turned away from it with a cry and buried her face in Snape’s chest. This time he did get to put his arms around her. He held her close and rested his face on top of her hea
“C
“Could you get rid of it, please,” requested Snape in icy tones.

Viola found a plastic Marks and Sparks bag in one of her drawers, and using the end of a ruler prodded the revolting mass into it. She handed it over to Quinn who tied it shut with a rubber band and deposited it in the hallway rubbish bin.

“That’s it then.” Said Snape and turned to leave.

“We are not going.” Hermione’s voice was steely as she wiped away her tears.

“And what do you propose we do?” Snape asked her, keeping his voice low and gentle.

“Why we have to get Waldo back from the Faerie.”

Viola and Quinn exchanged glances. Snape watched Hermione with awe. “And how shall we do that? Walk up to the King of the Faeries and say, Please, Sir, we want our baby back?” This time he failed at being gentle.

“Exactly. Why not?”

Quinn shifted his weight from foot to foot nervously. Viola sat down behind her desk and tented her fingers.

“Please everyone, have a seat,” shid. id. “Miss Granger, I understand what you are requesting. And I shall explain now why that simply isn’t possible.”

Hermione sat and watched the Witch as a cat would keep watch at a mouse hole. Snape remained standing behind Hermione’s chair holding her arms in what he hoped was a comforting manner.

“Please do explain,” said Hermione, sounding years older than her natural age.

“Quinn here is in exile from the King’s court. Tourn urn to Faerie Lands, anywhere, anytime, would be a death sentence. As for myself, I am only partially Faerie. For me to enter the Land would be to give up my freedom. I’d be kept and used as a servant of the Court, a virtual slave. That is why neither one of us are of any use to you.”

“But you know how to get there? You could show me?” Hermione inched closer to the desk.

“You would never be heard from again,” Quinn snorted.

“That is a riskill ill take. I choose to be reunited with my child. Even if it means staying in the Faerie World forever, I will do so.”

Snape hissed. Stupid woman. But if she went, so would he. They could both commit suicide together.

“We shall go,” said Snape smoothly.

Viola sighed, “Kindly remove the iron chain from your pocket, Miss Granger. They would either stun or kill you before you had a chance to remove it.”

Hermione removed the long chain and let it drop to the floor. Quinn flinched away from it. Viola picked it up and threw it out the door as if it were a venomous snake.

“I don’t have any advice to give you. You probably won’t be allowed to return. The Faerie like their privacy.” said Viola.

“How about don’t eat anything,” replied Snape.

Quinn smiled or what passed for one, “I never had a problem with the food.”

“The not ng Fng Faerie food is probably a myth,” added Viola. “From family lore I’ve heard, one doesn’t feel hunger in their Lands. And it’s easy to lose track of time. A nap can last for decades.”

“Let’s get going,” said Hermione tersely. She was aching to have her son back in her arms. All other details could be worked out later.

“Right,” said Quinn shuffling his feet a bit. “Viola?”

“Ah yes, I need something from your child,” said the Witch.

Hermione handed over a flannel. “He spit up on it early yesterday.”

Viola held it only a moment. “Your son is in the Queen’s Land down south somewhere near New Forest, not in the King’s Land which is to the west. Quinn, can you find it? I know you are from the Western Lands.”

“Not a problem, love. You two take hold of my hands, or paws. Eh?” Quinn’s black, beady eyes watched them hesitate. “Now I won’t bite. I promise.”

Snape took hold of Hermione’s hand and they both placed theinds nds on top of the huge white paw held out to them.

“Now.” And the three were gone.

In less than a minute, Quinn was back.

Viola looked up at Quinn and removed her glasses. Her blind eyes stared fixedly ahead of her. “It’s not sitting well with me.”

Quinn gave a hollow laugh. “You shouldn’t have had that bacon with your breakfast, then. Always gives you indigestion.”

“Stop playing the fool,” she scolded, “You know what I mean.”

Quinn sat heavily behind his desk and picked up his paper. “Nothing to be done for it.”

“If you d sed see their auras-- They are in love with each other and don’t know it.”

“Damn it, Viola.” He slammed a paw down on his desk, upsetting a mug filled witillsills.
“Since when have you become the romantic?”

“Dunno. Look, what say we go out for a drink tonight? At The Silver Pipes?”

“That’s a Faerie pub. We’ll have our arses kicked clear to Dover if we go in there!”

“Still, it might be worth our while. We could find out something to help.”

“Or get our heads handed to us on a platter.”

“I’ll go by myself, then,” she said very casually. She picked up her coffee and had a sip.

Quinn opened his paper, attempted to read it and then closed it. “Oh Shite. I’m coming along. You are an impossible Witch.”

“And that’s why you love me?” She said with the barest of smiles.

Quinn growled and hid behind his newspaper.

A/N: Big hugs and extra special thanks to: Luna, DeblovesDragon, NegativeNine, Mele, Deb, Spaz141, Otherside, and PirateDucky.

Before anyone asks, Viola Iolanthe was created for my story The Hunt for Hermione (my first SS/HG story), which I wrote way before I ever heard of Laurell K. Hamilton. Last winter I started reading LK’s Anita Blake series and I have not yet read her Merry Gentry stories (MG is a Faerie P.I.).