On a Hot Summer Night
folder
Harry Potter › Het - Male/Female › Snape/Hermione
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
21
Views:
9,288
Reviews:
42
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Harry Potter › Het - Male/Female › Snape/Hermione
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
21
Views:
9,288
Reviews:
42
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 II
[AN] Thank you to Emmylovedraco for such a quick review. It gave me motivation to write another chapter.
I'm basing the vampires here off of The Vampire Chronicles by Anne Rice. And they do retain magical abilities. Short chapter, but it's basically more exposition.
This is also HBP compliant. Spoilers if you don't know by now[/AN]
"No, and quite frankly, I don't care. I just wish you would go back to where you came from."
To the point. That's how Hermione always played a situation. She hadn't seen the Professor for 10 years. Those years at times seemed to fly, but there were days when she knew her former Professor was in trouble, and she did nothing about it. Trying to clear his name was one, and eventually he was, through a Pensive of identical memories from Albus and Severus. On her death bed, she felt those memories; deeper than any Pensive could show. In fact, she knew a lot more about Severus than she cared to at times. Hermione folded her arms and leaned her hips against the kitchen counter, as she faced Severus, still sitting in the sofa.
"Well...not welcome I see. I came to wish you a Happy Birthday. Nothing more. Now, that that's done, I'll be off."
Severus stood, and took one step towards Hermione. He could tell by her ability to drink the blood that fast that she was going through a guilty phase. Guilt over stealing or killing, either one was bad enough. She was starving herself to the point of need instead of want. That he could not allow. However, he could not go back and rewind his statement of leaving, so he headed for the door, his hand on the doorknob. Hermione was looking at him with intense fear and hatred; an interesting combination. Knowing that he wasn't wanted, he opened the door, and closed it behind him slowly, and locked it with his wand from the outside. She would feel safe now. At least he hoped.
He considered it her 'birthday'. It was her first thought after he left and she could breath again. How dare he. After all, she was dead. Dead inside, dead outside, she was dead. Emotion in the conventional sense was nothing anymore. Hermione walked to her large windows and felt the sun hit her skin. It felt hot, but her advances in sun-repelling spells helped. She had improved on a spell Severus had invented years ago. When he was turned. Warm, red-tinted tears ran down her porcelain skin.
Sitting on her sofa she stared at her phone. After the final battle, she required that all of her friends have telephones. It helped with easy communication and long conversations that didn't need face-to-face contact. She picked up hers, but didn't know who to call. No one liked to help when she got like this. And for the past 10 years, it seemed to happen more often than normal vampires. She wasn't sure what separated her from 'normal' though. Since she was turned, she had never said another word to Severus. Although in her head and in conversation she had ceased to refer to him as Snape. There was a bond there. He was, essentially, her father.
It was like a Star Wars moment. She always knew that fact. But the kindness that remained in the action of him coming all the way to New York just to say something to her that was unnecessary (but true) meant something to her. He would always treat her like a daughter. Which is why he let her alone all this time. He was giving her time to stretch her wings. After all, everyone she ever knew was going to die, and she would be left alone. Her only connection left would be Severus. They would have centuries together, alone. For now, he was giving her time with the loved and alive.
She put the phone back down. Biting her bottom lip with one fang, she stood and walked over to the door. Quickly, she opened it, hoping to see Severus just walking down the hall. But the hallway was empty. And she felt more alone.
An artificial fireplace was something that she had to introduce to the magical world. It worked with a light switch on the wall, and there was a floo powder box on the mantle above. This fireplace didn't need a chimney, and was perfect for an apartment like hers. Another one of her papers was on just how to get the floor powder to work in it, which she had to invent a new variation of floo powder for it to work. It was orange, a tribute to Gryffindor really. She threw a handful in, and spoke clearly: "Hogwarts!"
I'm basing the vampires here off of The Vampire Chronicles by Anne Rice. And they do retain magical abilities. Short chapter, but it's basically more exposition.
This is also HBP compliant. Spoilers if you don't know by now[/AN]
"No, and quite frankly, I don't care. I just wish you would go back to where you came from."
To the point. That's how Hermione always played a situation. She hadn't seen the Professor for 10 years. Those years at times seemed to fly, but there were days when she knew her former Professor was in trouble, and she did nothing about it. Trying to clear his name was one, and eventually he was, through a Pensive of identical memories from Albus and Severus. On her death bed, she felt those memories; deeper than any Pensive could show. In fact, she knew a lot more about Severus than she cared to at times. Hermione folded her arms and leaned her hips against the kitchen counter, as she faced Severus, still sitting in the sofa.
"Well...not welcome I see. I came to wish you a Happy Birthday. Nothing more. Now, that that's done, I'll be off."
Severus stood, and took one step towards Hermione. He could tell by her ability to drink the blood that fast that she was going through a guilty phase. Guilt over stealing or killing, either one was bad enough. She was starving herself to the point of need instead of want. That he could not allow. However, he could not go back and rewind his statement of leaving, so he headed for the door, his hand on the doorknob. Hermione was looking at him with intense fear and hatred; an interesting combination. Knowing that he wasn't wanted, he opened the door, and closed it behind him slowly, and locked it with his wand from the outside. She would feel safe now. At least he hoped.
He considered it her 'birthday'. It was her first thought after he left and she could breath again. How dare he. After all, she was dead. Dead inside, dead outside, she was dead. Emotion in the conventional sense was nothing anymore. Hermione walked to her large windows and felt the sun hit her skin. It felt hot, but her advances in sun-repelling spells helped. She had improved on a spell Severus had invented years ago. When he was turned. Warm, red-tinted tears ran down her porcelain skin.
Sitting on her sofa she stared at her phone. After the final battle, she required that all of her friends have telephones. It helped with easy communication and long conversations that didn't need face-to-face contact. She picked up hers, but didn't know who to call. No one liked to help when she got like this. And for the past 10 years, it seemed to happen more often than normal vampires. She wasn't sure what separated her from 'normal' though. Since she was turned, she had never said another word to Severus. Although in her head and in conversation she had ceased to refer to him as Snape. There was a bond there. He was, essentially, her father.
It was like a Star Wars moment. She always knew that fact. But the kindness that remained in the action of him coming all the way to New York just to say something to her that was unnecessary (but true) meant something to her. He would always treat her like a daughter. Which is why he let her alone all this time. He was giving her time to stretch her wings. After all, everyone she ever knew was going to die, and she would be left alone. Her only connection left would be Severus. They would have centuries together, alone. For now, he was giving her time with the loved and alive.
She put the phone back down. Biting her bottom lip with one fang, she stood and walked over to the door. Quickly, she opened it, hoping to see Severus just walking down the hall. But the hallway was empty. And she felt more alone.
An artificial fireplace was something that she had to introduce to the magical world. It worked with a light switch on the wall, and there was a floo powder box on the mantle above. This fireplace didn't need a chimney, and was perfect for an apartment like hers. Another one of her papers was on just how to get the floor powder to work in it, which she had to invent a new variation of floo powder for it to work. It was orange, a tribute to Gryffindor really. She threw a handful in, and spoke clearly: "Hogwarts!"