Snape Redux

Snape Redux

By April Grey

Chapter Epilogue

It all belongs to Rowling, except for the parts you don’t recognize.

Epilogue-

“Hey, Sandy, lookin’ sharp!” said Sean Riley pointing at Sandy’s neck. “A shark’s tooth necklace is good luck on your weddin’ day. It brings you luck from Aumakau.”

“Perhaps your Aumakau is a shark. Where I come from we have something a bit different, one could have a Patronus of a raven or a bat. And you’ve cleaned up rather well yourself. A haircut and a bath have done you nicely.” He ruffled the boy’s cropped hair.

“I can’t believe I got to call you ‘Mr. White’ when I get to school this fall.”

“I can’t believe you’re old enough to start High School,” he sighed. He’d seen so many come to Hogwart’s as children and leave as young adults, but it was still difficult to watch time speed away in the form of the ever changing young faces of his students. But by Merlin, it was good to be back to teaching. “I’ll be checking up on you all summer. One book a week, plus a book report and those illustrated graphic novels do not count, are we clear?”

“You know, you wen glare at your class like that, that’s givin’ them the stink-eye. An’ a lot of the kids they wen talkstink about you bein’ mean.”

He smiled, “You’ll find out in my English class how ‘stink-eye’ I can be and you will watch your language. Being unpopular has never bothered me, because it’s a matter of getting the job done. That’s what is important,” Sandy turned to double-check his tie in the mirror on the wall of the small room in the back of the church.

“I’ll be sure to stay on your good side, brah--Hey, we got the circus coming,” said Sean, looking out the window.

Sandy looked over his shoulder and then practically flew out the room to the door on the other side of the church’s back hallway. Quickly he rapped on the door.

Mrs. Granger opened the door a crack, “Yes, Sandy. You know it’s not good luck to see the bride on her wedding day?”

He swallowed heavily and tried to make his voice normal, “Ah, yes, Mrs. Granger—Mum. Just a word with Hermione through the door and I promise not to look.”

Hermione came to the door, and whispered, “What is it? You sound upset.”

“The Knight Bus rigged as a dirigible just showed up. Do you have your wand so we can Apparate?”

“Oh no! No, I don’t have it. How?” she moaned.

“You didn’t tell a soul?”

“No. And I asked Mummy not to--wait.” Hermione turned to her mother, “Mum, you didn’t tell anyone from Hogwarts about the wedding? Right? Like I asked?”

“Well, no dear. Only Molly— I could hardly not tell—“

Hermione quickly turned back to the door.

“Sandy, maybe they won’t recognize you. And they don’t dare do anything with all the Muggles we’ve invited.”

“If we can only get back to our apartment—Right, we could sneak out the back door—“

“If it’s a Ministry action then the back door will be covered by now. Brazen it out, love. Come on, it couldn’t be worse than your years with the Death Eaters.”

“Spoken like a true bride on her wedding day,” he sneered. “Well, see you at the altar.” Snape strode down the hallway in high dungeon, with Sean, his best man, trying to keep up.

Sandy stopped just before the door to the church proper. They could have gotten this done at City Hall. They didn’t need a church wedding just to please her parents. Still, it was his wedding day, not some class at Hogwart’s. He needed to act and walk differently. He could fool them. He could fool them all.

“An den, Sandy?” said Sean, all excited. “Cold feet are not allowed.”

Sandy opened the door. His eyes stayed neutral and he forced his body to relax, even as he took in the filled church. Well, filled on the bride’s side. He just had Tomika and her younger son, Bobby, Captain Max and a few of his colleagues from the Public High School where he was now an English teacher and the substitute Science Studies teacher.

From the corner of his eye, he made out Hagrid standing in the back, no doubt because he couldn’t fit into the pews. Upon entering, he had noted Minerva McGonagall, Filius Flitwick, Patricia Vektor, Pomona Sprout, and all the Weasleys with their respective spouses and babies in arms. Even Remus Lupin was there carrying a toddler in his arms with Tonks holding a little bundle. Oh no, they were fast at breeding little werewolves and metamorphmagi! Sandy shook.

“Relax! You look like you think the Fusetta goin’ get you,” said Sean, seeing the sweat beading on Sandy’s forehead.

Ruefully, Sandy noted the irony. Hadn’t marriage been his father’s downfall as well? Snape men shouldn’t get married—as simple as that. But it was worth it, right, to claim Hermione as his own, if not forever at least for the few minutes before someone saw through him and hexed the living daylights out of the man responsible for the deaths of the two most powerful Wizards of the Twentieth Century.

The bridal march began and Sandy looked down the aisle. Hermione was on the arm of her father. She was dressed in a lightweight and simple white dress of cotton and lace, white lei and veil, and she was the most beautiful he’d ever seen her, except maybe for that time in the red corset. That was pretty hard to beat.

At points in the ceremony Sandy wanted to tell the Minister to ‘hurry it up’ and ‘cut to the chase’, but he restrained himself. He thought about ways of escaping. Perhaps if he were to nick Hagrid’s pink parasol, Hagrid’s vain attempt at concealing a wand he wasn’t supposed to own. Sandy could see himself holding Potter and Weasley at bay with the stupid pastel brolly—

“If any one has any reason why these two should not be joined…”

Yes, I have a reason, thought Sandy. The Groom is a dead man walking.

Nothing happened, though at one point he swore he could hear Minerva give her little sniff that she did when trying not to cry.

“And do you Xander White take Hermione Granger to be your…blah, blah, blah…”

Sandy received a sharp blow to the ribs by his best man, “Yes. I do, of course, I do.”

“By the power invested…”

Sandy’s body completely tensed up, ready to run as soon as the ceremony was over. He could see in his mind’s eye his wand right there where he’d left it on top of the bookcase. If he could only get to it before--

Hermione took his hand and pulled him down to kiss her. Suddenly he forgot how much trouble he was in. Forgot that he was about to be hexed six ways to Hell—Heaven was in her kisses and that was all that mattered to him.

When the kiss broke he looked in her eyes and knew he could face anything. He turned with his new bride and was ready to leave the church with her. His eyes sought out his friends, yes he had friends, good Muggle friends, like Tomika. Yet, little good they would do him as he fell dead of a silent “Avada Kadavra!”

He barely glanced at Molly or the others. But he did look at Hermione and she was beautiful. He smiled.

On the steps of the small white-washed, wooden Church, thrown rice turned into multihued rose petals and Sandy heard a very loud whisper, “Eh now, George, Fred, stop that! Don’t ya know there are Muggles here?”

Mrs. Granger looked around the crowd and did a quick head count. Perplexed at the large crowd and shaking her head in despair she said to Hermione, “We’ll never be able to feed them all. We don’t have enough tables or chairs.”

Hermione put her head near her mom’s and said, “Oh, I think you might be surprised with this group. Just go ask Molly!”

Mrs. Granger went to her friend, Mrs. Weasley, and they, followed by Prof. Flitwick, quickly ducked inside the Union Hall, which was next to the Church and had been rented for the reception.

Sandy held tight to his new wife. All the old familiar faces, some loved and some hated, were overwhelming him. Arthur Weasley coming up and shaking his hand. Minerva McGonagall giving him a kiss on the cheek and then staring at him with a shocked look on her face. And Harry Potter. He’d stayed to the back of the crowd and was watching him, eyes squinted in severe mistrust. Giving him the royal stinkeye would have been Sean’s term for it! Sandy knew he would have to do some fancy footwork if he were to survive the afternoon to make it to his wedding night.

&&&

“Well, these British are eccentric but they throw a fine party,” said Gladys Kraus, Sandy’s boss and head of the English Department.

In fact, Molly had provided food and Flitwick had drawn up some rather interesting chairs and tables. Mostly they were Gilded French Rococo dining tables and chairs with pink and grey satin striped fabric. He’d continued the motif with floor rugs containing moving satyrs chasing nymphs and happy Bacchus’s drinking wine from huge golden goblets. The window treatments reflected the same motifs. Flitwick admitted that he had outdone himself, rather inspired by the happy occasion.

There were little cupids buzzing about, a Flitwick specialty, and an ice statue at every table, which was Camille’s spell but she’d kindly shared it with Molly.

The couple hadn’t planned on more than playing cd’s with a borrowed boom box, but suddenly there was a live Hawaiian band, looking a bit confused.

Hermione went to Mr. Weasley, and asked him if he, as a representative of the Ministry of Magic, could find out who was taking advantage of their being in a foreign country by kidnapping musicians to have them play music--and to kindly make them knock it off before the Muggles realized that something was seriously wrong. Mr. Weasley went to Tonks who handed the baby off to Remus, and the two authority figures asked around about who had kidnapped the band.

Hagrid blushed, stammered an apology and said he didn’t think the Muggles would ‘ave really minded, before sending them back to hopefully where they’d come from.

Tonks then performed a series of five-minute Obliviates on the High School teachers who were slightly confused by the sudden magical appearance and disappearance of the band.

Captain Max had been in the restroom when the incident had occurred and Tomika had been too busy staring at the moving figures in the carpets to notice. Her sons had watched the whole thing, but knew better than to let on that something rather odd was happening. Sean told Bobby to keep a careful eye on the Red Haired Twins who were accompanied by their wives, Padma and Parvati, since it was obvious from the petal trick that they had to be magicians from Las Vegas.

It was Professor Vector who came up with the idea of enchanting the CD boom box player to a higher quality of acoustics and the Weasley Twins came up with the idea of enchanting it to playing exactly the right music at the right time.

At this point, all was ready for people to sit at their various tables and eat the rather unusual combination of catered Muggle food at the buffet and the rather more exotic food provided by Mrs. Weasley consisting of Haggis, neeps and Spotted Dick with Devon Custard, which was the best she could whip up so far away from home.

There was some confusion, of course, as to whether the Muggles would be traumatized if they were allowed to mix with the Wizarding folk. Part of this problem was alleviated by Captain Max and the teachers all making their goodbyes early. Tomika also had to get to work that evening and dragged her two sons away with them protesting they were going miss the “magic act”. Hermione felt bad about the situation that perhaps her uninvited friends had scared off their new friends but then she realized that the reception was never intended to be very fancy or last very long anyway. What she didn’t know was that Remus, concerned that the Muggles shouldn’t have to be further assaulted or obliviated, had used a Muggle repellant charm on them.

Hermione relaxed into being with her old crowd. Music played, from somewhere a huge tub of butterbeer was produced and she felt more at home than she had in the past few years. She was touched, very touched by the turn out.

Ginnie and Ron had kept her away from her husband and it was difficult to keep an eye on him. She knew she should tell him to leave and save himself. The problem was, other than Harry and Ron, she just couldn’t imagine that any of these people would go and spoil her wedding day just to get at Severus Snape. The Hogwart’s professors had been friends with him for years. Right, they all thought he’d killed Albus Dumbledore, but surely someone out of this very bright crowd would have figured out that having also killed Voldemort, Snape had obviously been on their side all along?

Who should she appeal to?

She saw McGonagall laughing with Flitwick over a mysteriously glowing punch, which also had managed to appear from nowhere.

&&&

Sandy was depressed. He watched his wife having a wonderful time with her friends, while his friends had all fled. Nothing had gone as planned and he was beginning to take it for granted that his new face and identity would also hold. He’d gone from high anxiety to feeling empty and resentful.

Just then, when he didn’t think he could feel any worse, Remus Lupin showed up to “find out all about Hermione’s catch.” Joy. About the only decent thing about Lupin was that he’d managed to lose the rug rats and brought with him two very tasty looking, filled to overflowing, pints of butterbeer.

&&&

Hermione, grown tired of dancing in her wedding gown, told her husband that she needed to change into her regular clothing at the church and she’d be right back. She didn’t notice Harry following her.

She’d just changed out of her wedding gown into a more comfortable, practical dress for dancing when there was a rap on the door.

“Hermione, it’s Harry. Can I come in?”

“Of course,” Hermione sighed. Severus had done his best, but she was sure almost the entire group, perhaps with the exception of Hagrid, had twigged by now.

Harry came in, his body rigid with anger, “I know, Hermione.”

“What do you mean, Harry?”

“I recognized him. But it’s alright.” His face was grim. He didn’t look all right; he looked like he was a volcano set to go off. One could imagine Pele the Volcano Goddess practically tap dancing on his shoulder.

“Harry?”

“I wish you’d thought twice about this. He’s a sadist. You know that from our school days. He’s a monster.”

She swallowed and prayed he’d understand. “He was under a great deal of pressure back then. He’s changed ever since he’s been here. You have to take my word on this.”

“Like I took your word that you’d killed him?”

“I knew he was innocent. He’d been helping me help you. Feeding me information…”

“Using you.” His face was a deep scarlet but his voice was still neutral.

She put her hand on his arm. “Please.”

“So you faked his death and got him a new identity.”

“Dumbledore was going to die anyway. Severus was following orders just like you were. Damn it, Harry. Albus made you feed him poison, how was that any different?”

“And all the pettiness? And all the cruelties? Sirius’ death? His putting you under Imperio? That’s a good husband to have?”

Hermione took another deep breath.

“Albus Dumbledore had been right to trust him. I don’t want to say more on this.”

“You don’t need to. Did he ever tell you that he was only trying to avenge my mother’s death? My father and I dying would have meant nothing to him.”

“Yes. I knew about—about how he felt about your mum and how he resented you and blamed you for her death.” She didn’t want to tell him that she’d actually seen it in his mind back when he was teaching her Occlumency.

For a moment she thought Harry would vent his rage on her, and then watched as Harry closed eyes and forced it all away. When he opened his eyes there was little clue to the passion which had been there just seconds ago.

“I wish you happiness,” he said dully.

“No, you don’t. But thanks for pretending, and don’t tell Ron, if he hasn’t figured it out, all right?” Tears came to her eyes. She knew he saw it as a betrayal, but at least he was willing to forgive her.

Harry took her in his arms and hugged her.

“Well, well. I’m getting jealous here.” Sandy had seen Harry following Hermione out from the party.

“Not to worry. Hermione’s the sister I never had,” growled Harry. “You better take good care of her, ‘Sandy’.”

“Harry, thank you.” Hermione’s tears spilled over.

“Just be happy. That’s all I ask.”

She swiped at the tears with her sleeve. “I will be, you’ll see.”

“Hermione, we shouldn’t both be away from the party. Why don’t you head back?”

“I don’t think—“

Sandy waved her away, “If Mr. Potter has something he wishes to say to me in private, let’s just get it said.” He smiled.

“Yes, Hermione. Just a couple of words, and then we’ll be right along.”

Hermione studied them. Should she trust these two men alone? Would they kill each other? No, Harry had just wished her happiness--she could trust him.

“Best behavior you two. Or I’ll hex you both,” she smiled nervously and left. They needed to work it out alone.

Thirty seconds went as they stared at each other, waiting to hear her leave the church. Once clear, Harry slammed Sandy up against the back wall of the room with Harry’s arm pressed up against his throat and his wand pointed right at Sandy’s face.

“You made some comments about my mother, Snape. The truth now!”

“The name is Xander White. Get used to it!”

“Enough joking around. I’ve waited years for this. And I’ve been practicing Legilimency with a Ministry official.”

“I doubt if even decades of practice would make you a good enough Legili—“

Harry launched himself into Sandy’s mind.


Harry recognized the dark bedroom. He’d been there before. Back when he’d been learning Occlumency from Snape and had accidentally gone into Snape’s memories. But it was different. This time Snape wasn’t alone killing flies with his wand.

Instead, his young body was naked, penis half erect and covered with blood. Blood was smeared over his upper thighs and the sparsely haired area of his groin. The sheets were also smeared with blood, as was the naked girl beside him.

“Oh, Gods, if I hurt you I’ll never forgive myself,” his shoulders were trembling, holding back tears.

The girl took him in her arms, “No, no, Severus. All women bleed a bit when you break their hymen, some more than others. You didn’t know that?” she gave a little shake of her head. “Oh, come on. It only stung for a moment, silly you. Did you really think you’d done me a serious injury?”

He threw himself on her, kissing her breasts and then her neck and finally her mouth. “I thought you were dying--that I’d killed you. I’m sorry, Lily, I wouldn’t ever hurt you not for anything!”

She rocked him and stroked his hair as he sobbed, “I love you, my Sevvy Bear. Come on, cheer up? Let’s finish what we started.”

They resumed kissing.

Harry fled from his mind, faster than if hordes of Bogarts, Dementors and Death Eaters were chasing him.

“Find what you were looking for, Potter?” Sandy kept his face bland.

Harry turned green, put a handkerchief to his mouth and ran out the room.

“Gents is third door on the right!” he called out. Sandy’s mouth quirked a smile, “Haven’t lost my touch.”

&&&

The sun had set and the room was filled with candlelight as the Wizarding party continued. Hermione and Severus had been kept busy dancing the whole evening.

Sandy was waltzing with Professor McGonagall. He’d been avoiding her, suspecting that she had recognized him. And when she spoke that fear became a certainty.

“Severus, I want you to end this tomfoolery immediately and come back home with us.”

“Professor McGonagall, I’m afraid I have no idea of what--”

“I have spent literally weeks tearing my office apart in search of it. There has to be something, and Albus’ portrait refuses to tell me—“

“You’ve lost me.”

“He wouldn’t have gone and let you take the blame like this. There must be some document, a Pensieve memory Albus stored away, something proving your innocence. I knew from the minute I received that anonymous owl that Albus had put you up to it. I know how convincing he could be.”

Sandy continued to sweep her around the dance floor. He sighed, “My wand would prove that there was no Avada Kadavra with intention cast from it and that it was all an elaborate ruse. However, I did cast an Imperio on Hermione to help me disable a Horcrux. It seemed the best course of action at the time.”

“Well, I am going to put things to right even if I have to do a Hoochie Koochie dance on top of Scrimgeour’s desk. You deserve an Order of Merlin for what you have done. Letting us know Voldemort’s plans saved many lives and may have won us the war. Not to mention you doing the foul deed itself.”

The dance music stopped and he walked her to her table. He sat her down and then kneeled next to her, taking her hand, “Minerva. You could toss a dozen Order of Merlins at me, and I wouldn’t go back.

“You know, I once had a chance to go live with Muggles when I was younger. A wonderful, wonderful Muggle family was willing to take me in after my mother died. And if I had only done so my life might have changed in ways I never dare imagine.

“I’m not missing out on happiness a second time. I’m happy here. Hermione’s happy here. And please just be happy for us.”

“Oh, Severus—“

“It’s Sandy now, remember?”

“Give me your wand this minute!”

“What? I will do no such thing!”

“Well, I could make an announcement—“

“You wouldn’t—look I’ll give it to you tomorrow.”

“Thank you. We are staying in a local Muggle hotel for the night. And I’ll bring it straight back to you here in Hawaii once the Ministry has gone over it.”

“Won’t do any good. There is that Imperio on it.”

“It clears you of his death, and that’s what matters.” She touched the side of his face with her hand. “And you can get rid of that stupid glamour, too. You look like some Hollywood pretty boy.”

“Minerva, this is my face now.”

“Oh…Sorry.”


&&&

“I need my wand,” he said as he searched in the bookcase. “Ah.”

He flicked and swished and there were floating candles all over their new apartment. He strode into the bedroom, “Black satin sheets, scented with Oil of Aphrodite.”

She stood beside him in the doorway. “Do you actually have any?”

“No, but I can conjure up a pretty fair substitute. I’ve been planning this for years.”

And indeed, a most alluring scent wafted over and tickled her nose.

She turned to him and kissed him. He pulled away from her. “Not done yet.”

“Oh, Sandy, I don’t care. I want you, NOW!”

“I’ve dreamt of this too long.”

“You have? You might have given a person a clue.”

“Having you as my wife has been a long held, cherished goal.” He murmured something and white satiny flower petals strewn the bed and the floor. “Gardenias. They go nicely with the Oil of Aphrodite.”

Hermione was ready to scream, she was well aware of the mildly obsessive nature of her lover, now husband. And yet, she wanted it to go right their first night as a wedded couple. “May I take off some clothing at least? It’s getting warm in here.”

“Now, what else? Champagne, some Baltic Sea Caviar?”

“I don’t care for either of them. I’m getting the feeling you are putting this off.”

He stopped and put down his wand. “Perhaps you are right. But I want to savor every second of this. I try not to wear my heart on my sleeve—“

Hermione smiled; actually, he was one of the most passionate, emotional men she’d ever met. And his fervent nature was one of his charms.

“But Hermione, I have loved you all these years.” He then very gently, as if she were gossamer, lifted her chin and brushed his lips against hers.

Hermione felt herself go weak at the knees and felt flooding at her inner gates. “I love you too,” she blurted.

“Maybe we’ll just snog tonight.”

“Sandy!”

“Right, less talk and more action.” He laughed nervously. He waved his wand again and a huge Slytherin banner appeared on the wall.

“That Tears It!”

“Hermione?”

She waved her wand and four shackles appeared at the corners of the bed. A second wave and Sandy was naked and shackled on the bed. A third wave and Hermione was in a red corset and nothing else.

“I do hope I get a safe word?” he sneered, while inwardly sighing in contentment.

“Hoping for the ball gag too, are we?” Her wand turned into a whip of velvet strips. “Accio cock ring!”

“Puffskein, Mistress?” Sandy said.

But he was too late, Hermione had already taken matters firmly in hand.

End of Epilogue

A/N: Many thanks to my reviewers: Jen, Lyndie578, maniac musician, firewall, Loola, Killer Kadoogan, Hypatia. And thank you to June W. for her help.


For those who are not strict SS/HG shippers there is the bonus chapter coming up--Chapter 15 Wedding at the Weasleys. Nope, not SS/HG--so don’t bother reading if that sort of thing upsets you.

Some thoughts on the topic of Pidgin and other dialects, languages, etc.—

I keep butting heads with accents in my writing.

In my first novel, Chasing the Trickster, Pascal Guzman my lead character is part Cajun, part Mexican with some American Indian thrown in, in other words, an American Mutt. (I myself have seven nationalities in my bloodline, but they are all European.) For the most part, when he is with his romantic interest he speaks standard American. When he is with his sister, he slips into Creole, but again only for a phrase or two. What I have learned in workshops for my novel is that a writer shouldn’t need to provide a glossary for her readership. Go too heavy with an accent and “Watch the slap” --you lose the reader’s interest and/or trust. It’s better to slip in a word here or there which makes sense in context, than it is to have to translate what the person is saying.


In the first chapter of this story, Snape Redux, we have a character with a bit of an Islands accent, the Caribbean and not the Hebrides. Though I have had many dear friends from Trinidad over the years, it’s still not an easy one for me to write.

Furthermore, if not careful, it’s easy to make someone with an accent sound either so foreign as to be unintelligible, or just plain ridiculous. In another chapter we have Travis McTavish slip from his careful BBC style English into Scottish Brogue and it’s done for comic effect, revealing him as something of a poseur.


At the end of the story, I don’t have Tomika speak Pidgin, though I do loosen up her English a bit, and I have also given Capt. Max a mild Southern drawl. I have a feeling that Tomika refuses to speak Pidgin around outsiders like Hermione or Sandy, but uses it when she’s with her own family.

Finally for her son, Sean, I have him use a few words of Pidgin, based on his being a teenager and being in a relaxed situation with Sandy.
“Hawaiian Pidgin is spoken by many people who live in Hawaii, but mostly by teenagers. The majority of the words and phrases are versions of English slang, with words from the other languages that make up Pidgin, making it sound like un-grammatical English. An example of a shortened English phrases is no can (cannot), talk stink (speaking bad about someone), and wat doing? (what are you doing?). A Pidgin phrase that sounds like English with bad grammar is \"If I come stay go, an you no stay come, wat foa I go?\" (\"If I come and you’re not there, why should I go?\") (www.extreme-hawaii.com). (The pronunciation and accent used in Hawaiian Pidgin is hard to detect in the spelling and written words).”
http://www.msu.edu'colem104/paper1.htm


I don’t have a particularly good ear for languages or accents. Unfortunately, I do like to write about people and places outside of NYC, where I have lived for the past 31 years of my life. So, I risk doing a poor job, rather than no job at all.

Hopefully I didn’t bore anyone with that.