Revenge 2: Hell Hath No Fury Like A Hermione.

A/N: Thank you for everyone’s kind words. I have a horrible feeling that this story may take up a lot of my time. Also, it will probably take a bit longer to actually get into than original Revenge, but hey, means more chapters. Which is a good thing for you lot to read… and a bad thing for me to write! Oh well, an addiction is an addiction.

Daya

*

Am sure that this situation does not warrant going into complete and utter shock, but mind has gone blank, and body appears to have gone into autopilot. Suddenly find myself standing in front of my cottage staring at the front gate with no memory of how and when I got here.

Look round, and double check. Yes, Old Hogsmeade Lane, yes, Honeysuckle Cottage. House is definitely home, can see Ginny’s lacy knrs hrs hanging out of the window to dry. Claims it works faster than the washing line. Asked her why she couldn’t just use the tumble dryer like normal people, or magic like wizard type people, but received only an enigmatic smile. Damn Ginny and her damned flirtatious ways.

But I digress.

For a moment my mind slipped away from the cheating bastard that is my lover, my man, my fine specimen of walking sex on legs. Except he’s not mine is he? Not anymore.

Lips are wobbling. Can feel tears threatening. Situation is red alert for full on hysterical wailing. Am literally choking back sobs, gulping in air forcing them down where I can control them. Right. Feel somewhat composed, I can now enter my home. A place where I should feel secure and where comfort will be dispensed along with vast amounts of tea and sympathy. Or a bloody great big bar of chocolate.

Shall just step into this tranquil place of sanctuary, and revel in the solidarity of my female kin.

Only just manage not to scream at sight of Chloe wielding rather large pair of scissors at me in a manner that Ghengis Khan would have been proud of. Immediately spring into defensive action which is to dive behind sofa and pull cushion over head.

‘It’s alright, you can come out now.’

Hear Chloe’s permanently perky and chirpy tones ring out above my head. Scowling, stand up to face her.

‘What the hell do you think you’re doing?’ I scream at her.

Chloe, bless her, steps back in shock. Appears has been some time since Evil!Hermione has come out to play, and she’s clearly frightened. She steps back, clutching scissors defensively to rather pert cleavage and glares back.

‘Nothing!’ She takes another look at me. ‘Herm? You alright?’

Sniffle and glance down at my feet. Appear to be standing in huge pile of thick, glossy hair, that shade of blue black you only usually see on birds. Usually crows, although most people tend to call it raven. If they ever bothered to look, they’d notice that a raven tends to be more a pure black, with a silver grey hint to it…

Oh well done Hermione. As soon as trouble begins, you start getting pedantic. Perhaps this is a defence mechanism. No, a defence mechanism would be heading back to Hogwarts and kneeing Severus Snape in his balls. Wonder if that could be considered a Freudian reaction…

Sniffling is getting considerably worse. As is general face crumpling. Gods, next thing I’ll be wailing….

Too late.

Through tears can see horrified Chloe sprinting towards me. Despite general sobbing, find myself howling at her ‘Didn’t your mother ever teach you not to run with scissors?’

Amazing how the mind focuses on the most trivial things in a situation like this. Hear metallic thunk as scissors are dropped and Chloe flings her arms around me.

Chloe. Lovely, dippy Chloe. With her short blonde hair, and general gorgeousness despite her complete lack of academic ability. Oops. Is true measure of friendship when you can wipe your nose on their shoulder, and they kindly pretend not to notice. Lovely Chloe.

‘What happened?’ Chloe murmurs into my hair, gently soothing me. ‘Don’t tell me the little bastards found that school portrait of you again.’

Thanks Chloe for reminding me of that. ‘Nooooooooooo’ I wail.

‘It’s not… it’s not Ses iss is it?’

Can hear panic in Chloe’s voice. But feel sense of triumph that she finally managed to call him Severus. Usually she adopts classic first year potion’s class stance, and turns into gibbering wreck around him. Of course, shall now have to train her to call him ‘The Wanking Cheating Bastard Formerly Known as Severus Snape.’

Hear front door open behind me.

‘What’s happened?’ a low melodious voice, tinged with a trace of panic rings out above my head.

‘I think its Severus.’

There is a low whistle.

‘Oh bugger.’

‘I am still here you know!’ sniff indignantly.

‘Ok, you tell us then, and shift up a bit.’ Am forced to make room on crowded sofa. ‘Well?’

Am beginning to wish that Ginny Weasley would show a bit more sympathy rather than her usual pragmatic rationality. Move over with as much bad grace as possible.

Can someone tell me when you’re supposed to be able to deal with these things in a calm and grown up manner. Sort of a ‘Ah, terribly sorry for interrupting darling, you appear to have a 7th year female wrapped round you. Why don’t you put her down, and we’ll discuss the implications for our relationship over a double espresso?’ manner.

No, instead, like a pimply hormonal teenager, I immediately ran to my friends and sobbed pathetically.

At least the fucker had the decency to look guilty. Oh dear. Sobbing has resumed.

‘Any idea what’s happened?’

‘Nope.’

‘But it involves Severus?’

‘Apparently.’

‘What’s he done?’

‘Not a clue.’

‘So how was your day anyway?’

‘Oh, so so, you know. Few magical maladies, guy who accidentally ‘fell’ on his wand and got it stuck in a most interesting, and, I imagine, rather painful place.’

‘Oooh, do we know him?’

‘No, didn’t recognise him. Mind you, I wasn’t looking at his face much.’

‘Severus was snogging the Head Girl.’

Ah, that got their attention.

‘Isn’t that against the rules?’

Glare at Ginn‘Tha‘That is not the point.’

‘Oh. Sorry, I was just wondering.’

Story is told. Hate stupid stupid Cassandra Simmerson, with her overly long name and stupid dramatic dark red hair and her scrawny slim figure. Hate her. Start to eye Chloe’s scissors in a particular lethal manner, but Chloe, recognising the look removes them from harm’s way. Or Herm’s way. Hehehe. Start to giggle.

This disturbs both Chloe and Ginny. ‘Mione? Please stop it. You’re scaring us.’

‘He was snogging the headgirl. He had his tongue in her mouth. Or perhaps she had her tongue in his mouth. Oh, I don’t know. They were kissing! Kissing. And we all know where kissing leads to, don’t we, we’re all adults here, we all know that kissing like that usually mean shagging, and if he was shagging her on our desk I’m going to be very upset.’

‘You mean you’re not already?’

‘Shut up Ginny. Of course I’m upset. That was our desk. That’s where we shagged. Me and Severus, me and Sev, Sev and Hermione, Professor Snape and Professor Granger, NOT Professor Snape and Cassandra Sodding Simmerson.’

‘On the desk… gods, do the students know?’

‘It’s not like we bloody do it in lessons! We are not Hogwart’s Sex Education! We do not give demonstrations… and even if we wanted to, it’s not like I’m going to have to the chance to now…’

Tears are being replaced by something akin to a cold hard fury. Amazing what the sight of your lover wrapped round someone who is younger, and far more attractive that yourself will do to you. Could well imagine that even the most placid person would be driven to murderous rage at the sight of that.

I am Professor Granger, teacher of Arithmancy. I, until about two hours ago was the lover of Professor Severus Snape, and had been for about two years. Ours was a strange relationship, one built from a series of misunderstandings based on the petty notif ref revenge. An eye for an eye so to say. A tooth for a tooth. An insult for an insult.

I had been insulted. There was no doubt about that. When I walked into the room, he saw me, and guilt flickered ithosthose beautiful dark eyes of his. Git. Bastard, bastard, bastard! And Miss Simmerson had seen me too, and she had smiled a triumphant smile that would be recognisable to any other woman, a victory over a rival.

This is an emergency situation. It calls for one thing.

I speak quietly, but precisely. ‘I want the vodka.’

There are two gasps. ‘Hermione, no! Not the vodka.’

‘Yes – the vodka.’ Am most determined now.

‘But what happened last time…’

Ah yes. I have sworn off the evil potato drink, ever since the trouble it caused two years ago. But if it wasn’t for vodka, I would never have ended up with Sev, and quite frankly, it is only appropriate that if it was there at the beginning of the whole fuck up, it should definitely be there at the sodding end of it all.

Chloe and Ginny can see the look of my face. A bottle is produced, as are three glasses.

Right. I have had a very bad day and there is only one thing to do.

Am going to get royally pissed off my head.

Yippee for me.

Three sodding cheers. Ooh… vodka.