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Surprisingly, She Didn\'t
folder
Harry Potter › Het - Male/Female › Snape/Hermione
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
12
Views:
8,651
Reviews:
41
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Harry Potter › Het - Male/Female › Snape/Hermione
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
12
Views:
8,651
Reviews:
41
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
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.
Chapter 1
Status: Work in Progress
Rating: NC-17 for later chapters
Warnings: Adult situations, some language, sexual situations…list may change as story progresses.
Summary: Finding her there had been a surprise, but nothing compared to what happened when she woke. HP fan-fiction, HG/SS.
Disclaimer: All characters/situations/places/events that you recognize belong to JK Rowling and the rest of the legal owners of everything Harry Potter. I make no money off of the writing of this fic, and intend no copyright infringement. I’m only having a little fun. And I would definitely take those two Slytherins home for tea…
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Surprisingly, She Didn\'t by Remetan
Chapter 1
Severus Snape watched the girl sleep as the sun sank low in the sky. His arms were still crossed upon his chest, though one hand was now raised to rub the stubble on his jaw absentmindedly as he considered the possibilities.
She stirred lightly an hour or so ago, and he’d thought she might wake. Instead, she had simply shimmied to the middle of the bed and kicked the blankets down into a tangled heap about her hips.
The room gradually grew dark and he exited it after putting a full glass of water and pitcher on the bedside table.
He lit the few candles they had in the front room in an attempt to break up the greyness of the sunset and settled himself into a chair next to the cold fireplace after making himself a cup of tea. Usually, he preferred the sharp tang of peppermint, but tonight was a night for slow relaxed pondering, so chamomile suited him much better. He wistfully recalled the strong cups of Earl Grey he’d favored in his younger years, but he’d become accustomed to herbal tea after his body had begun to react badly to caffeine. He suspected that after years of the life he’d led, his body could no longer deal with the excess nervous energy. Besides, he rationalized, herbal teas did have such wonderful medicinal properties.
As the warm, herbal, flowery scent washed over him, he began to ask the questions in earnest that had only buzzed about his brain while he watched her. What in Gods’ name was that annoying girl doing here?
Severus drew in a deep breath, squinching up his eyes and rubbing his forehead in an attempt to ward off the impending headache. The pain in his head always came along with the pain of his memories.
Amazingly, it had been several weeks since he’d thought about anyone or anything having to do with his past. They were so far removed from anything here, he and Draco, that it almost seemed they existed without past; just two men a generation apart, cohabitating one small cottage.
The past, it seemed, had come to claim him. They’d “flown under the radar” for a full four years. Neither Auror nor Deatheater had determined their whereabouts. In truth, they’d been careful, extremely careful. They hadn’t used a bit of magic since they’d left Hogwarts that night, other than the double apparitions he’d used to get Draco to his home in Spinner’s End, and then to this cabin.
Alright, they’d used a little bit. There were three access points to the cottage. One was the dirt road leading up the hill from the small village, another the trail that led through the small valley to the east, and the third was the rocky path that wandered from the back door to the small, sand covered beach surrounded by jagged rock cliffs. Severus had quickly cast several alarm wards that would let them know when someone other than the two of them approached, but would mostly go unnoticed. They were piddly charms, used mainly by housewitches who wanted to know when someone was at the door if they were, say, in the back doing the laundry.
Actually, it was how he’d known she was there. Her body washing up on the shore had triggered the alarm, and he’d snuck quickly to the hidden perch he’d found that overlooked the beach. From there, he had a clear view and would have time to prepare for an attack, or flee if there were too many to overcome. He’d seen a woman’s body, feet lightly floating in the receding tide, and gone down to investigate, assuming it would be a dead Muggle.
Most unfortunate then, that it was no Muggle and that she most assuredly was not dead. He’d been shocked when he’d realized who it was. Obviously, she had managed to do what no one else had done and ascertain their approximate whereabouts, though not the exact locale. What had the foolish girl done, apparate directly into the incoming tide?
More importantly, would she have been working alone? Was waiting here for her to wake up akin to waiting for the executioner’s squad? He snorted. Anything was possible with this girl. She had probably gone on to work with the Order after he’d killed Albus, using her incredibly bright mind to work out any number of puzzles that would no doubt leave the rest of the members feeling as though they’d been hit with a Stupefy. The question remained, then, did she tell others what she’d found and run off ahead of them or did she stick to idiotic Gryffindor behavior and run off to capture him on her own? Either one was a possibility.
He heard a soft rustling coming from the other room, and then the unmistakable sound of a glass being set on a hard surface followed by the creak of the floorboards next to the bed and steeled himself for the inevitable. Taking a quick sip of his now cooled tea and then setting it on the table beside him, he laced his fingers together and fixed his most intimidating scowl upon his face, waiting for her entrance.
She poked her head out the door, no doubt following the light, and looked around blinking.
“Well, well Miss Granger. It’s about time you woke up. I was beginning to wonder if I would have to share my bed with you.” His voice was velvet covered iron.
“Excuse me?” she said, raising her eyebrows and blinking again in a most uncommonly idiotic way.
“That was my bed you were slumbering in, you impudent chit. I would have been forced to climb in next to you had you not awoken in a timely fashion.” This time his words were barked out, drops of saliva shooting out of his mouth. The nerve of her! She washes up on his shore, sleeps naked in his bed all day, and has the nerve to act as though she hadn’t been out looking for a murderer!
“I don’t know who you are, sir, nor where I am, but I can assure you, I would most certainly have kicked your arse into next week if you had attempted to climb into the same bed as me!” her voice was sharp, the words quick and cutting as inflamed as they were with anger.
She didn’t know who he was? Nor where she was? But did that mean...
“Tell me, Miss Granger. What is your first name?” His voice had gone all soft and silky, caressing his words.
“Obviously you know, sir. Why don’t you be kind enough to enlighten me?” She placed her hands on her hips as her eyes bored into his.
“Do you mean to tell me, madam,” his lips curling with sarcasm as he said that word, “that you don’t remember anything?”
Her arms dropped to her sides as she chewed at her bottom lip, a more familiar look of concentration wrinkling her brow. Then, that look dissolved into one of panic; she slumped back against the door frame.
Snape’s lips curled into a decidedly cunning smile as a most intriguing thought occurred to him; surprisingly, she didn’t.
Rating: NC-17 for later chapters
Warnings: Adult situations, some language, sexual situations…list may change as story progresses.
Summary: Finding her there had been a surprise, but nothing compared to what happened when she woke. HP fan-fiction, HG/SS.
Disclaimer: All characters/situations/places/events that you recognize belong to JK Rowling and the rest of the legal owners of everything Harry Potter. I make no money off of the writing of this fic, and intend no copyright infringement. I’m only having a little fun. And I would definitely take those two Slytherins home for tea…
Surprisingly, She Didn\'t by Remetan
Chapter 1
Severus Snape watched the girl sleep as the sun sank low in the sky. His arms were still crossed upon his chest, though one hand was now raised to rub the stubble on his jaw absentmindedly as he considered the possibilities.
She stirred lightly an hour or so ago, and he’d thought she might wake. Instead, she had simply shimmied to the middle of the bed and kicked the blankets down into a tangled heap about her hips.
The room gradually grew dark and he exited it after putting a full glass of water and pitcher on the bedside table.
He lit the few candles they had in the front room in an attempt to break up the greyness of the sunset and settled himself into a chair next to the cold fireplace after making himself a cup of tea. Usually, he preferred the sharp tang of peppermint, but tonight was a night for slow relaxed pondering, so chamomile suited him much better. He wistfully recalled the strong cups of Earl Grey he’d favored in his younger years, but he’d become accustomed to herbal tea after his body had begun to react badly to caffeine. He suspected that after years of the life he’d led, his body could no longer deal with the excess nervous energy. Besides, he rationalized, herbal teas did have such wonderful medicinal properties.
As the warm, herbal, flowery scent washed over him, he began to ask the questions in earnest that had only buzzed about his brain while he watched her. What in Gods’ name was that annoying girl doing here?
Severus drew in a deep breath, squinching up his eyes and rubbing his forehead in an attempt to ward off the impending headache. The pain in his head always came along with the pain of his memories.
Amazingly, it had been several weeks since he’d thought about anyone or anything having to do with his past. They were so far removed from anything here, he and Draco, that it almost seemed they existed without past; just two men a generation apart, cohabitating one small cottage.
The past, it seemed, had come to claim him. They’d “flown under the radar” for a full four years. Neither Auror nor Deatheater had determined their whereabouts. In truth, they’d been careful, extremely careful. They hadn’t used a bit of magic since they’d left Hogwarts that night, other than the double apparitions he’d used to get Draco to his home in Spinner’s End, and then to this cabin.
Alright, they’d used a little bit. There were three access points to the cottage. One was the dirt road leading up the hill from the small village, another the trail that led through the small valley to the east, and the third was the rocky path that wandered from the back door to the small, sand covered beach surrounded by jagged rock cliffs. Severus had quickly cast several alarm wards that would let them know when someone other than the two of them approached, but would mostly go unnoticed. They were piddly charms, used mainly by housewitches who wanted to know when someone was at the door if they were, say, in the back doing the laundry.
Actually, it was how he’d known she was there. Her body washing up on the shore had triggered the alarm, and he’d snuck quickly to the hidden perch he’d found that overlooked the beach. From there, he had a clear view and would have time to prepare for an attack, or flee if there were too many to overcome. He’d seen a woman’s body, feet lightly floating in the receding tide, and gone down to investigate, assuming it would be a dead Muggle.
Most unfortunate then, that it was no Muggle and that she most assuredly was not dead. He’d been shocked when he’d realized who it was. Obviously, she had managed to do what no one else had done and ascertain their approximate whereabouts, though not the exact locale. What had the foolish girl done, apparate directly into the incoming tide?
More importantly, would she have been working alone? Was waiting here for her to wake up akin to waiting for the executioner’s squad? He snorted. Anything was possible with this girl. She had probably gone on to work with the Order after he’d killed Albus, using her incredibly bright mind to work out any number of puzzles that would no doubt leave the rest of the members feeling as though they’d been hit with a Stupefy. The question remained, then, did she tell others what she’d found and run off ahead of them or did she stick to idiotic Gryffindor behavior and run off to capture him on her own? Either one was a possibility.
He heard a soft rustling coming from the other room, and then the unmistakable sound of a glass being set on a hard surface followed by the creak of the floorboards next to the bed and steeled himself for the inevitable. Taking a quick sip of his now cooled tea and then setting it on the table beside him, he laced his fingers together and fixed his most intimidating scowl upon his face, waiting for her entrance.
She poked her head out the door, no doubt following the light, and looked around blinking.
“Well, well Miss Granger. It’s about time you woke up. I was beginning to wonder if I would have to share my bed with you.” His voice was velvet covered iron.
“Excuse me?” she said, raising her eyebrows and blinking again in a most uncommonly idiotic way.
“That was my bed you were slumbering in, you impudent chit. I would have been forced to climb in next to you had you not awoken in a timely fashion.” This time his words were barked out, drops of saliva shooting out of his mouth. The nerve of her! She washes up on his shore, sleeps naked in his bed all day, and has the nerve to act as though she hadn’t been out looking for a murderer!
“I don’t know who you are, sir, nor where I am, but I can assure you, I would most certainly have kicked your arse into next week if you had attempted to climb into the same bed as me!” her voice was sharp, the words quick and cutting as inflamed as they were with anger.
She didn’t know who he was? Nor where she was? But did that mean...
“Tell me, Miss Granger. What is your first name?” His voice had gone all soft and silky, caressing his words.
“Obviously you know, sir. Why don’t you be kind enough to enlighten me?” She placed her hands on her hips as her eyes bored into his.
“Do you mean to tell me, madam,” his lips curling with sarcasm as he said that word, “that you don’t remember anything?”
Her arms dropped to her sides as she chewed at her bottom lip, a more familiar look of concentration wrinkling her brow. Then, that look dissolved into one of panic; she slumped back against the door frame.
Snape’s lips curled into a decidedly cunning smile as a most intriguing thought occurred to him; surprisingly, she didn’t.