The legacy of the Diary
folder
Harry Potter › Het - Male/Female › Snape/Hermione
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
30
Views:
9,232
Reviews:
39
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
1
Category:
Harry Potter › Het - Male/Female › Snape/Hermione
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
30
Views:
9,232
Reviews:
39
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
1
Disclaimer:
I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Roses
Legacy of the diary
By Luciusfan
Chapter 14 - Roses
Hermione awoke, opening her eyes to see Minerva, Remus and Poppy looking at her intently. Recollection of events hit her and she sat up sharply. “Harry!?” The three staff members exchanged worried glances, finally Minerva McGonagall spoke.
“We’re not sure yet dear, but it’s not good.”
“Where is he? What’s happened to him? Why…?” She began to sob and lowered her head into her hands – she had so many unanswered questions that stuck in her throat at the thought of what had happened.
“They think his neck is broken, plus quite a few other bones.” Minerva spoke, reaching to squeeze Hermione’s hand as she dropped it from her face.
“But bones can be mended can’t they?” She looked pleadingly from Minerva to Poppy Pomfrey who shifted uncomfortably.
“Yes dear…” Poppy sat down on the edge of the bed, her face betraying the seriousness of the situation. “…But it’s not just bones. He’s still unconscious – so they don’t know yet. There could be more serious damage. But he’s at St Mungo’s- which is the very best place for him to be.” She added the last sentence hastily, sensing Hermione’s rising tears.
Hermione looked around, she was back in her room at Hogwarts. No doubt Remus had apparated back with her – or at least to outside the grounds. She went over the events she had witnessed over and over again in her mind, vaguely aware of three people talking and fussing over her. Suddenly she snapped out of her trance, sitting up.
“He was going to tell me something…” she began.
“Lie down dear, you need to rest.” Poppy’s voice was authoritative.
“There’s to be an inquiry.” Remus said, now brandishing a latest edition of the Daily Prophet. “Says here the snitch and broom were both jinxed or tampered with in some way – they’re not sure yet but it must have been dark magic – there are so many protective spells round quidditch stadiums of that profile, no ordinary witch or wizard could have done this. Must have been a dark wizard.” He began to read the paper again, which, for once, seemed to display a stationary photo – Harry lying on his back in the sand. But then the picture became animated as two medi-witches ran over to the fallen seeker, held him between them and disapparated.
Hermione’s already pale face took on a completely ghostly appearance as her mind worked. There had been two ex-deatheaters in the box with her and she had given them both cause to harm Harry. She felt a sudden rush of guilt and responsibility.
“When can I see him?”
“St Mungo’s haven’t said yet.” Minerva answered even though the question had been directed at Remus.
“We’ll let you know. For now just try to rest – you’ve had a shock. We’ll leave you alone to sleep.”
Hermione nodded absently and the three bustled out. As they were leaving, a house elf pushed his way between them carrying a basket of white roses. He placed the basket on a side table and turned to leave.
“Obi!” Hermione called out. “It is Obi, isn’t it?”
“Yes Professor.”
“Obi, where are the flowers from?”
“From Professor Snape, Miss – he hopes that you are feeling better soon.”
Me feel better? Typical, he causes Harry to plunge to a near death and then sends me flowers.
“Obi!” She crossed from the bed to the table and picked up the flowers, ignoring the delicious, and, she was sure, enchanted scent. “Please have these sent to St Mungo’s at once – for Harry Potter.”
“Yes, Professor.” He bowed and left the room with the flowers.
Hermione changed into a long warm nightgown, took a cup containing extra strength dreamless sleeping potion that Poppy had left for her on her bedside table. Draining the cup, she climbed into her bed and closed her eyes.
~~xx~~
When Hermione awoke again it was late Sunday afternoon and the September sun hung low in the sky, chased away by threatening rain clouds.
She sat up, rubbing her eyes as the events of the previous day flooded back. When she finally opened her eyes, the first thing she saw was another basket of roses on the table – this time yellow.
Instantly furious, she picked up the basket and still in her nightgown, headed to Snape’s private rooms.
She did not knock, but barged straight in through the unlocked door. Severus looked up from the potions text he was reading.
“Why, Hermione…” he began, a nervous smile twitching at the corners of his normally ruler straight lips. But his smile was wiped from his face as a basket of yellow roses flew through the air towards him. He caught the basket but water and flowers flew in every direction.
“I never want to talk to you again! You callous bastard – trying to win me round when Harry is lying unconscious in St Mungo’s because of you and your jealousy!”
His anger rose instantly. “Because of me? How dare you suggest such a thing?” He stood, back straight, surveying her through a curtain of black hair. She remained defiant. “It was dark magic apparently!”
“Well, Miss Granger – I wasn’t the only wizard capable of dark magic present at the match. What about Mr Malfoy?” Severus glared at her – he wanted to say something more hurtful regarding her lust for Malfoy. Something to make her feel the hurt he had felt when she screamed out Malfoy’s name in lust, and the hurt he felt now at being accused of something so heinous. God, he still loved her, how could she think he would do this to her? He couldn’t bring himself to say either anything hurtful or anything comforting. It was no secret that he disliked Potter, but this…?
He looked down at the flowers on the floor, he had a good idea where they had come from.
“Besides,” he spoke quietly, hiding his squirming emotions “the roses I sent you were pure white. I was going for ‘peace and forgiveness’?” He turned away from her and walked over to watch raindrops begin to slide down the ancient glass of the window.
Hermione flushed crimson and turned and left Snape’s room. Had it been Malfoy? She hadn’t heard from him. Maybe his arousal at the quidditch match had been his excitement at performing evil. He was renowned for his ruthlessness – trust him to ‘get off’ on trying to kill a potential lover’s best friend! As much as she missed him and as much as her body ached to be with him again, she had to admit that Lucius Malfoy was more than likely the wizard responsible for nearly killing Harry Potter.
By Luciusfan
Chapter 14 - Roses
Hermione awoke, opening her eyes to see Minerva, Remus and Poppy looking at her intently. Recollection of events hit her and she sat up sharply. “Harry!?” The three staff members exchanged worried glances, finally Minerva McGonagall spoke.
“We’re not sure yet dear, but it’s not good.”
“Where is he? What’s happened to him? Why…?” She began to sob and lowered her head into her hands – she had so many unanswered questions that stuck in her throat at the thought of what had happened.
“They think his neck is broken, plus quite a few other bones.” Minerva spoke, reaching to squeeze Hermione’s hand as she dropped it from her face.
“But bones can be mended can’t they?” She looked pleadingly from Minerva to Poppy Pomfrey who shifted uncomfortably.
“Yes dear…” Poppy sat down on the edge of the bed, her face betraying the seriousness of the situation. “…But it’s not just bones. He’s still unconscious – so they don’t know yet. There could be more serious damage. But he’s at St Mungo’s- which is the very best place for him to be.” She added the last sentence hastily, sensing Hermione’s rising tears.
Hermione looked around, she was back in her room at Hogwarts. No doubt Remus had apparated back with her – or at least to outside the grounds. She went over the events she had witnessed over and over again in her mind, vaguely aware of three people talking and fussing over her. Suddenly she snapped out of her trance, sitting up.
“He was going to tell me something…” she began.
“Lie down dear, you need to rest.” Poppy’s voice was authoritative.
“There’s to be an inquiry.” Remus said, now brandishing a latest edition of the Daily Prophet. “Says here the snitch and broom were both jinxed or tampered with in some way – they’re not sure yet but it must have been dark magic – there are so many protective spells round quidditch stadiums of that profile, no ordinary witch or wizard could have done this. Must have been a dark wizard.” He began to read the paper again, which, for once, seemed to display a stationary photo – Harry lying on his back in the sand. But then the picture became animated as two medi-witches ran over to the fallen seeker, held him between them and disapparated.
Hermione’s already pale face took on a completely ghostly appearance as her mind worked. There had been two ex-deatheaters in the box with her and she had given them both cause to harm Harry. She felt a sudden rush of guilt and responsibility.
“When can I see him?”
“St Mungo’s haven’t said yet.” Minerva answered even though the question had been directed at Remus.
“We’ll let you know. For now just try to rest – you’ve had a shock. We’ll leave you alone to sleep.”
Hermione nodded absently and the three bustled out. As they were leaving, a house elf pushed his way between them carrying a basket of white roses. He placed the basket on a side table and turned to leave.
“Obi!” Hermione called out. “It is Obi, isn’t it?”
“Yes Professor.”
“Obi, where are the flowers from?”
“From Professor Snape, Miss – he hopes that you are feeling better soon.”
Me feel better? Typical, he causes Harry to plunge to a near death and then sends me flowers.
“Obi!” She crossed from the bed to the table and picked up the flowers, ignoring the delicious, and, she was sure, enchanted scent. “Please have these sent to St Mungo’s at once – for Harry Potter.”
“Yes, Professor.” He bowed and left the room with the flowers.
Hermione changed into a long warm nightgown, took a cup containing extra strength dreamless sleeping potion that Poppy had left for her on her bedside table. Draining the cup, she climbed into her bed and closed her eyes.
~~xx~~
When Hermione awoke again it was late Sunday afternoon and the September sun hung low in the sky, chased away by threatening rain clouds.
She sat up, rubbing her eyes as the events of the previous day flooded back. When she finally opened her eyes, the first thing she saw was another basket of roses on the table – this time yellow.
Instantly furious, she picked up the basket and still in her nightgown, headed to Snape’s private rooms.
She did not knock, but barged straight in through the unlocked door. Severus looked up from the potions text he was reading.
“Why, Hermione…” he began, a nervous smile twitching at the corners of his normally ruler straight lips. But his smile was wiped from his face as a basket of yellow roses flew through the air towards him. He caught the basket but water and flowers flew in every direction.
“I never want to talk to you again! You callous bastard – trying to win me round when Harry is lying unconscious in St Mungo’s because of you and your jealousy!”
His anger rose instantly. “Because of me? How dare you suggest such a thing?” He stood, back straight, surveying her through a curtain of black hair. She remained defiant. “It was dark magic apparently!”
“Well, Miss Granger – I wasn’t the only wizard capable of dark magic present at the match. What about Mr Malfoy?” Severus glared at her – he wanted to say something more hurtful regarding her lust for Malfoy. Something to make her feel the hurt he had felt when she screamed out Malfoy’s name in lust, and the hurt he felt now at being accused of something so heinous. God, he still loved her, how could she think he would do this to her? He couldn’t bring himself to say either anything hurtful or anything comforting. It was no secret that he disliked Potter, but this…?
He looked down at the flowers on the floor, he had a good idea where they had come from.
“Besides,” he spoke quietly, hiding his squirming emotions “the roses I sent you were pure white. I was going for ‘peace and forgiveness’?” He turned away from her and walked over to watch raindrops begin to slide down the ancient glass of the window.
Hermione flushed crimson and turned and left Snape’s room. Had it been Malfoy? She hadn’t heard from him. Maybe his arousal at the quidditch match had been his excitement at performing evil. He was renowned for his ruthlessness – trust him to ‘get off’ on trying to kill a potential lover’s best friend! As much as she missed him and as much as her body ached to be with him again, she had to admit that Lucius Malfoy was more than likely the wizard responsible for nearly killing Harry Potter.