Eternal Mistakes On The Spotless Soul
folder
Harry Potter › Het - Male/Female › Snape/Hermione
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
20
Views:
18,322
Reviews:
221
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
2
Category:
Harry Potter › Het - Male/Female › Snape/Hermione
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
20
Views:
18,322
Reviews:
221
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
2
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.
You're Not Allowed To Hate Me
A/N: I’m so glad that these cliff hangers get to you guys. Writing is a precious craft that it’s taken years of working at, and according to you guys, it’s paying off. So hopefully you will be entertained as we traverse down this story. Goody to those of you who continue to review and read. Onward ho!
RoseEvans— Why thank you, I’ve never had a town crier type hail before! Twists & turns, hang on to your hats, kids! It’s going to be a bumpy ride!
NarcissasSister— T’was no trick, Madam. And I am most pleased to hear that the cat now how cough drops. It may need a tranquilizer to keep going forward, but we’ll see how we go. I’m glad that I’m managing so well to wrench you over, and under, and then up for air through this wave of stuff that’s making up this story. Let me just phrase it this way, you ain’t seen nothing yet.
Heidi191976— Indeed. I am glad you’re eagerly anticipating what is to befall them and who the cabin girl is.
ArabellaSnape— My good Madam, I laugh. I laugh into hysterics. I clearly am torturing you. Yes, I ended the chapter there. I’m sure there was some mortal sin somewhere along the way, let me see…ah! Yes, it was choosing Haagen-Dazs over Ben & Jerry’s. That’s what you get. Your repetition reminds me of that episode of Futurama “The Why of Fry” when he’s on the Niblonian’s planet and they’re like “He doesn’t know?” “He knows not?” “Not he knows?” Hilarious! What am I up on? These reviews of course, and knowing that it’s driving you nuts. Ben & Jerry’s: 1. Haagen-Dazs: 0 :-p
Cherripepsiisgod— Literally on the edge of your bed, madam? My goodness, perhaps you should scoot yourself back a bit so you don’t fall off and onto the floor. ;-)
ApollinaV— You can keep the tweed jacket if I can borrow it next weekend. I’m having the stylish sports car painted. Darker, navy blue with that powder blue pinstripe. In the meantime, just sit back, relax, and enjoy the fact that I’m wearing your jacket and driving your car. And kudos for using Podunk!! Thank you for understanding Bridezilla. :-)
SnapesPet30— Dangling things off cliffs is what I do best.
ElectricalStorm— It was the most peculiar thing. There I stood, having just left my house for a lovely middle of the night stroll on Coogee Beach, when all of the sudden, I heard this far off in the distance cry of extreme upset. Thank you for clarifying that you were the culprit. ;-) Better get a strong table for all that finger drumming. Of course I won’t forget the blackmail. And thank you for the spell out of Fantastic, reminded me of my cheerleader days.
Ginnylovesharry07— apparently you missed whatever the rest of these guys are raving about. ;-)
Sljh— I applaud you for doing the mom thing. My mum worked at the school (in the county school system) when my sister & I were growing up. It actually works out really well, you get the same days off, home when the kids are home, etc. She worked in the cafeteria, and then in the office, etc., not being a teacher but odd jobs here and there. Maybe that’s a thought? I appreciate the heap of reviews! Yay! And I laugh at all your little theories. But you have so many of them!!! Your creative little brain amuses me. :-) Again, still not answering questions. Yes, it’s far too early to start poking me. And so you know, this collegiate did not go out and party, I had four different shows on this week! How does one commit themselves to four different shows! And I finally finished a major essay on the disabled body as a performer, three days late! I still have several sound & light design projects due this week, not to mention a few other performance related things, and am producing a big Impro shindig in 9 days time. Do you get to start poking me… *grumbles and mutters like a cranky old woman* Oi! I was lucky I go to wipe my on behind there was so little time these last 48 hours. But here you are, all your whinging for this. I hope it’s worth it.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
“Pomona,” a voice whispered in the dark of her room. The Herbology professor shot out of bed, eyes wide, fingers scrabbling around in the dark for her wand. She clapped her hands and the lights in her bedroom flew on. But there was no one to be found.
“Who’s there! Bloody show yourself or I’ll blast you to oblivion!” She wasn’t exactly sure how she was going to be able to blast or vanquish a foe that she couldn’t see, however the threat had sounded convincing in her mind before it had left her lips.
“It’s me, Pomona.” The disembodied voice said.
“Me who? Where the hell are you, me?”
There was a soft sound of the voice clearing its throat coming from the wall that led into her bathroom. Pomona Sprout carefully inched her way toward the doorway, wand pointed, eyes narrowed. She burst into the bathroom, flipping the lights on. “Aha!” But again the room was empty.
“Sorry, Pomona, just here,” the voice said again.
She turned her head around to the wall opposite the mirror where the portrait of a large Venus Fly Trap hung on the wall. In the painting just beside the Venus Fly Trap stood Albus Dumbledore, dressed in nightcap and dressing gown. “Albus!” she hissed, tapping her wand on the frame.
“Sorry to disturb you, Pomona.”
“Disturb me??” she spat, “You gave me such a fright! I thought you were an intruder.”
“Do forgive me.” He frowned. “But I couldn’t sleep. Something is not quite right.”
“What do you mean?” she asked, putting the lid down on the toilet before taking a seat. “And why did you come into the bathroom?”
“You don’t have any portraits in your bedroom, and I didn’t think you would hear me from your office.”
“I’ll make a note of that,” she muttered. “But what do you mea, a disturbance?”
The portrait of Albus frowned. “Something is not quite right somewhere in the universe, it’s a great pain.”
“What are you, Yoda?” she rolled her eyes. “What on earth do you want me to do about it?”
Albus stared blankly at her for a moment and then smiled as the joke dawned on him. “Know not what you to do I want,” he winked, causing a grunt of frustration from the witch. “Spoke with Severus you did, Mm, off on a quest you sent him, but why?”
“What are you talking about? I didn’t send him anywhere!”
Again Albus winked his eyes. “But I think you did, perhaps without meaning to.”
Pomona sighed in frustration. “This makes no sense. It’s quarter to three in the morning and you’ve woken me up for some disturbance and now you want to play riddles and guessing games?”
“What did you tell him, Pomona?”
“Nothing! He just asked if Hermione Granger had been to see me yet.”
“And what did you say?”
“That she hadn’t.”
“Exactly.” The former Headmaster smiled. “Goodnight, Pomona.” And with that, he disappeared out of the portrait frame.
Pomona Sprout stood bewildered in her bathroom, gazing at the portrait of the carnivorous plant. Perhaps it had been a dream. Without a second thought to it, she pulled the bathroom door shut and tottered back into bed. “And he wonders why I don’t have portraits in the bloody bedroom.”
(To keep with the style of a soap, as this has been labeled a handful of times, you always have a huge cliffie with something completely irrelevant right thereafter, right? ;-p )
RoseEvans— Why thank you, I’ve never had a town crier type hail before! Twists & turns, hang on to your hats, kids! It’s going to be a bumpy ride!
NarcissasSister— T’was no trick, Madam. And I am most pleased to hear that the cat now how cough drops. It may need a tranquilizer to keep going forward, but we’ll see how we go. I’m glad that I’m managing so well to wrench you over, and under, and then up for air through this wave of stuff that’s making up this story. Let me just phrase it this way, you ain’t seen nothing yet.
Heidi191976— Indeed. I am glad you’re eagerly anticipating what is to befall them and who the cabin girl is.
ArabellaSnape— My good Madam, I laugh. I laugh into hysterics. I clearly am torturing you. Yes, I ended the chapter there. I’m sure there was some mortal sin somewhere along the way, let me see…ah! Yes, it was choosing Haagen-Dazs over Ben & Jerry’s. That’s what you get. Your repetition reminds me of that episode of Futurama “The Why of Fry” when he’s on the Niblonian’s planet and they’re like “He doesn’t know?” “He knows not?” “Not he knows?” Hilarious! What am I up on? These reviews of course, and knowing that it’s driving you nuts. Ben & Jerry’s: 1. Haagen-Dazs: 0 :-p
Cherripepsiisgod— Literally on the edge of your bed, madam? My goodness, perhaps you should scoot yourself back a bit so you don’t fall off and onto the floor. ;-)
ApollinaV— You can keep the tweed jacket if I can borrow it next weekend. I’m having the stylish sports car painted. Darker, navy blue with that powder blue pinstripe. In the meantime, just sit back, relax, and enjoy the fact that I’m wearing your jacket and driving your car. And kudos for using Podunk!! Thank you for understanding Bridezilla. :-)
SnapesPet30— Dangling things off cliffs is what I do best.
ElectricalStorm— It was the most peculiar thing. There I stood, having just left my house for a lovely middle of the night stroll on Coogee Beach, when all of the sudden, I heard this far off in the distance cry of extreme upset. Thank you for clarifying that you were the culprit. ;-) Better get a strong table for all that finger drumming. Of course I won’t forget the blackmail. And thank you for the spell out of Fantastic, reminded me of my cheerleader days.
Ginnylovesharry07— apparently you missed whatever the rest of these guys are raving about. ;-)
Sljh— I applaud you for doing the mom thing. My mum worked at the school (in the county school system) when my sister & I were growing up. It actually works out really well, you get the same days off, home when the kids are home, etc. She worked in the cafeteria, and then in the office, etc., not being a teacher but odd jobs here and there. Maybe that’s a thought? I appreciate the heap of reviews! Yay! And I laugh at all your little theories. But you have so many of them!!! Your creative little brain amuses me. :-) Again, still not answering questions. Yes, it’s far too early to start poking me. And so you know, this collegiate did not go out and party, I had four different shows on this week! How does one commit themselves to four different shows! And I finally finished a major essay on the disabled body as a performer, three days late! I still have several sound & light design projects due this week, not to mention a few other performance related things, and am producing a big Impro shindig in 9 days time. Do you get to start poking me… *grumbles and mutters like a cranky old woman* Oi! I was lucky I go to wipe my on behind there was so little time these last 48 hours. But here you are, all your whinging for this. I hope it’s worth it.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
“Pomona,” a voice whispered in the dark of her room. The Herbology professor shot out of bed, eyes wide, fingers scrabbling around in the dark for her wand. She clapped her hands and the lights in her bedroom flew on. But there was no one to be found.
“Who’s there! Bloody show yourself or I’ll blast you to oblivion!” She wasn’t exactly sure how she was going to be able to blast or vanquish a foe that she couldn’t see, however the threat had sounded convincing in her mind before it had left her lips.
“It’s me, Pomona.” The disembodied voice said.
“Me who? Where the hell are you, me?”
There was a soft sound of the voice clearing its throat coming from the wall that led into her bathroom. Pomona Sprout carefully inched her way toward the doorway, wand pointed, eyes narrowed. She burst into the bathroom, flipping the lights on. “Aha!” But again the room was empty.
“Sorry, Pomona, just here,” the voice said again.
She turned her head around to the wall opposite the mirror where the portrait of a large Venus Fly Trap hung on the wall. In the painting just beside the Venus Fly Trap stood Albus Dumbledore, dressed in nightcap and dressing gown. “Albus!” she hissed, tapping her wand on the frame.
“Sorry to disturb you, Pomona.”
“Disturb me??” she spat, “You gave me such a fright! I thought you were an intruder.”
“Do forgive me.” He frowned. “But I couldn’t sleep. Something is not quite right.”
“What do you mean?” she asked, putting the lid down on the toilet before taking a seat. “And why did you come into the bathroom?”
“You don’t have any portraits in your bedroom, and I didn’t think you would hear me from your office.”
“I’ll make a note of that,” she muttered. “But what do you mea, a disturbance?”
The portrait of Albus frowned. “Something is not quite right somewhere in the universe, it’s a great pain.”
“What are you, Yoda?” she rolled her eyes. “What on earth do you want me to do about it?”
Albus stared blankly at her for a moment and then smiled as the joke dawned on him. “Know not what you to do I want,” he winked, causing a grunt of frustration from the witch. “Spoke with Severus you did, Mm, off on a quest you sent him, but why?”
“What are you talking about? I didn’t send him anywhere!”
Again Albus winked his eyes. “But I think you did, perhaps without meaning to.”
Pomona sighed in frustration. “This makes no sense. It’s quarter to three in the morning and you’ve woken me up for some disturbance and now you want to play riddles and guessing games?”
“What did you tell him, Pomona?”
“Nothing! He just asked if Hermione Granger had been to see me yet.”
“And what did you say?”
“That she hadn’t.”
“Exactly.” The former Headmaster smiled. “Goodnight, Pomona.” And with that, he disappeared out of the portrait frame.
Pomona Sprout stood bewildered in her bathroom, gazing at the portrait of the carnivorous plant. Perhaps it had been a dream. Without a second thought to it, she pulled the bathroom door shut and tottered back into bed. “And he wonders why I don’t have portraits in the bloody bedroom.”
(To keep with the style of a soap, as this has been labeled a handful of times, you always have a huge cliffie with something completely irrelevant right thereafter, right? ;-p )