Mirror, Mirror

Mirror, Mirror

Chapter 15 – Chickens Come Home to Roost

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


They were at the sink, washing and drying their dinner dishes. Even though it was something they could have spelled, it always reminded them of home. Dad, being a Muggle, had always given Mum a break by washing the dishes by hand even though she could have done it herself with one little spell. It was his way of being gallant. As soon as the boys were old enough, they helped out.

The Wizard in Red was washing, “It’s difficult and complicated, but I think it will work. And he shall suffer as we have.”

“True, brother, quite true,” said the Wizard in Blue as he dried a glass and put it up on the shelf.

“But we shall not sully our hands nor descend to the bestial level that he did as a Death Eater.”

“That is the crux of it.” The Wizard in Blue was using his fingernail to scrape away at a piece of food stuck on the plate. “Very much so. I wouldn’t want to dip my wick in her, no, no, don’t care for that sort of thing. Prefer my own right hand, thank you very much.”

The Wizard in Red shook his head, “Well, it takes all types, ‘said the dairymaid as she kissed the cow.’ If it weren’t for my preference for the Scarlet Witches of Knockturn Alley, I don’t think we would have this plan. So here is the list: 2 Prostitutes – female, 1 Prostitute – male. Polyjuice- enough for 3, 2 Scryring Mirrors – large. What have I missed?” He removed his hands from the soapy water and dried them on the tea towel slung across his shoulder.

The Wizard in Blue rubbed his head, “Well, we could save a bit of money and Polyjuice if you did the honors on the prostitute yourself. Seeing as you do like that sort of thing.”

The Wizard in Red thought about it, “No, then I might get performance anxiety. You know how I hate doing anything like public speaking. We are much better off sticking to professionals. But the man doesn’t need to look like us. Naked with a Death Eater’s mask should do it, so Polyjuice for only two, then. Now, is that everything?”

“You have forgotten the hair, dear brother. Hair from Lady Snape and her sweet, lovely, little girl.”

“Ah yes. Now you say that the Polyjuice will not be a problem?” asked the Wizard in Red.

“I have a supplier who always has a batch ready. You see at the Ministry the Aurors cannot afford to ever run out of that stuff. And fortunately, the clerk in charge of supplies is easily bribed. Remember our birthday party?” He sniggered. “So really, our only problem is the hair. Well, dear brother, I do have my Ministry job to hold down, so could you shadow the two ladies?”

“With pleasure. It’s a good thing it’s winter. There’s always a stray hair or two to be found on a cloak. Plus my job is rather dead this time of year, lots of free time on my hands. Now, the other sticky wicket, as the Muggles say, would be the actual capture of Snape. He’s living at the Leaky Cauldron, right?”

“Oh, yes,” the Wizard in Blue’s voice took on a low, gossipy tone, “and I also overheard Potter telling a visitor, some ex-member of the Order I take it, that that the Uninvited had took advantage.” He started to laugh.

“Oh dear,” said the Wizard in Red sitting heavily at the kitchen table. “Well, do you think we need to go farther if we have split them up?”

“Yes, I quite like our current plot.” The Wizard in Blue also sat. “It’s elaborate, elegant even. I say we proceed.”

“Well, then, I think that covers it. Just have to arrange for our performers, get the hairs for the Polyjuice, and give Dr. Snape front row tickets to watch the show of his life.”

&&&

“Severus? Are you in there? Oh, please let me in.” It hadn’t taken Hermione very long to decide on the basis of Remus’ owl to leave her sleeping daughter to the house elf’s care and floo over to The Leaky Cauldron.

“Please, Severus, I’m sorry. Just open the door and talk to me.” Several doors opened a smidgen to listen in. Hermione threw a cone of silence spell around her and her husband’s room. “That’s it, Severus! If you don’t answer, I’m taking this door down. So you better stand back.”

“Hermione, don’t, please don’t make a scene.”

She heard his voice muffled from the other side of the door and her heart leapt up. She swallowed. “Let me in, I miss you.”

“Go. I need to keep you safe. I don’t understand yet what is happening, but… someone performed that Transconveyance Curse and I don’t think it was to punish my counterpart. I think the person is after me. You and Sarah need to stay away.”

“No, Severus, please that’s crazy.” Hermione bit her tongue. Wrong thing to say! “We need you. If someone is after you, then we need your protection. They could come after us.” Yes, righing.ing. “You can’t abandon us!”

“I’ll think about it. You may be right.” His voice sounded sad and different, thinner, weaker than her husband’s voice normally was.

“Please, Sarah needs you. I need you.”

“I’ll think about it.” His voice sounded quite definite and she knew he was dismissing her.

Slowly, she walked downstairs into the pub.

“Hermione, are you all right?” asked Harry, standing up from his booth.

“Remus? Harry? What are you two doing here?”

“I changed my mind and asked for Harry’s help. After I spoke to, or rather tried to speak to, Severus, I realized that it might take two people to bring him in to St. Mungo’s.”

“No. I don’t want him forced.” Hermione was shaking her head. “He’d never forgive me.”

Harry took her in his arms. “’Mione, you aren’t thinking straight. He’s always been a little off. This whole thing just sent him on a wobbly, but he’ll be all right in a tick. He just needs some care.”

“I said no. Give him some time. He won’t do anything foolish. I know he won’t.”

The two Wizards looked at each other. They both had wives waiting for them. “Right, well, Hermione you know we are here for you,” said Remus, putting his hand on her shoulder.HarrHarry reluctantly let go of his friend. “If you want to give him time, that’s fine and well. He hasn’t done anything to show himself to be in any danger to himself or others. Right now it’s just a domestic thing. Hopefully, that’s all it will be.”


After he was quite sure Hermione was gone, Dr. Snape trudged back to his bed. He lay down and again tried to remember the name and face of every one of his victims. One of their relatives, he was sure, was behind this.

He began at the beginning:

He was eighteen and the mark on his arm was still new and aching. He had Apparated with Lucius on his first raid. Lucius was to kill the parents and he, the boys. They were triplets and rather famous just for that. Every week the Daily Prophet and Witches’ Weekly had more pictures of them. How the mum had to dress them in three different colors just to tell the little dickens apart! They were also the product of a Muggle/Witch union and so a perfect example to be made. This would be an audacious act and it would be the first time Snape would cast the killing curse. But they were children.

They Apparated to the little house just outsiogsmogsmeade. The wards easily came down. The first room Snape looked into had the parents, quite sound asleep, so he went across the hallway. He didn’t bother to wake the boys; to be honest, he was sure that if he did have to look into their little faces, he would be unable to go through with it. So he stood there in the doorway and cast the Unforgivable three times. Then he ran outside, his stomach threatening to spill its contents.

Ripping off his mask, he stumbled into some bushes and threw up. There wasn’t much in his stomach, he’d had no appetite all day, but he continued to retch and retch. The thought occurred to him that it was the last of his humanity that he was throwing up. For now he was a child killer and this is where his hatred of the Marauders had landed him. He’d never be clean again. He wanted to die.

Lucius came tearing out of the house and struck his cane across Snape’s back.

“Idiot! Don’t ever remove your mask!” And then he cast the Crucio for a few seconds, just to make sure that Snape got the message. “Finite Incantatum. And be grateful it wasn’t the Dark Lord doing that. He would not go so easy on you. He’d keep you under until your vocal cords burst.”

Sobbing, Snape got up and wiped the mess off his face with his sleeve. He put the mask back on. Lucius sent the Morsmordre into the sky and they Apparated.

Dr. Snape remembered it all with dry eyes, but still his body trembled from the memory.

All right, onto the next memory. Somehow, someone was doing this to him. He would figure it out. Though he was no longer a spy, though he’d lost his edge and gone soft, some of his instincts were still working.


&&&


Professor Snaouldouldn’t sleep. It was the damned cot. His old dungeon was cold, drafty and clammy, but at least he had a bed! He got up, stretched and had a cup of water. Then he heard it. He hadn’t been the Head of House for Slytherin for as many years as he had without recognizing that sound. It was a quiet sound, really nothing more that a certain quality of breathing and rustling. But, ah, he knew it well; he’d usually cough and made his normally silent stride quite noisy. After all, he was not a pervert. Yet, in Miss Granger’s case, he’d make an exception. Quietly, he entered the living room and gleefully caught her in the act!

“I hope you are thinking of me,” he said in satin tones.

Hermione screamed. “Oh Gods, never do that.”

Laughing, he came to her and took her in his arms. “Couldn’t I give you a hand?”

She stared at him agape. “Professor Snape, in all the years I was in Hogwarts, I never knew or even suspected that you would be capable of making such an awful pun.”

Snape ‘tut, tutted’ and put his lips over hers. It was a gently brushing of skin against skin, but it felt electrifying. He continued to gently nuzzle her mouth, seeking to soften it and win it to open for him. He also put his hand over hers where she had been touching herself.

“Show me how you like to be touched,” he whispered.

She guided his fingers to her bud and allowed him to gently manipulate it. Her breathing soon became heavy and labored and Snape wanted to be in her. He threw the couch pillows on the floor and picked her up and put her on them.

“First thing tomorrow, we get a bed.” She said and moaned as he began kissing her neck.

“Damned right,” mumbled Snape into her ivory skin. And he nibbled gently on a nipple that he’d just released from her nightgown.

Upstairs, Remus was awake and his abnormally sharp hearing made him quite aware of what was going on. He knew he should be happy for them. But, he felt a bit sad. Hermione was so sweet and Snape so sour a disposition, well, it was a pity. If he were well, he’d give Snape a run for his money that he would. He’d not had many women in his life, mostly because there was little he could offer them, still he knew how to treat one with courtesy and respect. Something Snape seemed to have no ken of. He sighed, hoping he’d fall back to sleep soon. And the sound of their passion continued.

Snape allowed himself to be pushed onto his back. By the light of the dying embers in the grate, he enjoyed the view of a now quite naked Hermione taking his member and placing it inside of her. He closed his eyes and savored the sensation of her hot wetness engulfing him. He reached up and lightly placed his hands on her breasts. They were so small and tight. She leaned down over him and allowed him to tongue one of them and then the other. She was gently rocking on him and as much as he wanted to ram himself into her, he practiced restraint and let her take her time. It did not seem very long and she was moaning as her orgasm began to crescendo. He held back, enthralled by how she looked in climax. He wanted to memorize it all because he knew good times like this never lasted. When she was completely spent, he picked her up like a rag doll and laid her on her belly, placing a few pillows under her hips.

“Umm, what are you…” before Hermione could finish the question, Snape was kissing the nape of her neck and placing himself back inside her. “Oh, Gods,” she groaned as he began to quickly move back and forth, pulling out almost all the way before slamming back into her. She braced herself to withstand his thrusts and then feeling another orgasm build, she began to push back against him, sharing his rhythm.

“Hermione,” he whispered, “yes,” and he nipped her neck. He felt his balls tightening and he gripped her hips, stabilizing himself to go even harder and deeper in her. Where he had been spooned over her, he kneeled up, still pounding into her. Then it came, bursting loose from his loins. He’d felt like he’d never had such an intense orgasm before and he stayed in her and kept her hips still until the throbbing ended.

He slowly pulled out of her. With an Accio, all their quilts and blankets were covering them on the floor. He took her in his arms and pulled her close to him. He looked at her flushed and sweaty face. He stroked a stray curl off of her face and kissed her. Then he held her tightly while trying not to give in to the tender feelings he was having.

Hermione tried to hold her own feelings in check. She wanted to start crying. Sex with him was so good and she had to ask herself, wasn’t it only because they were so ill suited? He was such a bastard. Right down to his humiliating her when she was masturbating. They would never love each other, so what were they doing? She felt safe and warm in his arms though and soon, in spite of her qualms, she fell asleep.

Snape stayed awake a bit longer. He listened to the sound of her steady breathing and rested his chin on the top of her bushy hair. He knew he was falling in love with her and couldn’t understand why. Eventually, he gave it up as a worthless proposition to even think about. Obviously Cupid was playing a little joke.


A/N: Big, big hugs to my awesome reviewers: Deb, FriendlyQuark, Mother, Snapeaholic, LittleBird, Nocturnus, KarenDetroit, and Genrou.