Plan B
folder
Harry Potter › Het - Male/Female › Snape/Hermione
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
10
Views:
9,236
Reviews:
63
Recommended:
1
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Harry Potter › Het - Male/Female › Snape/Hermione
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
10
Views:
9,236
Reviews:
63
Recommended:
1
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 2
A/N: I plan to update a chapter/day.
Chapter 2
Three days later the mirror in my back pocket burned. Ron was sprawled out on one of the cots; Harry was out wandering the woods or more likely off wanking, and nobody noticed my high-pitched yelp as it burned me in the ass. In retrospect it wasn’t the smartest idea I’ve ever had. Running for the loo I pried the closed circuit mirror out of my snug jeans and stared at the black and foreboding face of my ex-professor. His eyes were narrowed menacingly at me, but the entire effect was quite diluted via mirror.
“Miss Granger,” he hissed sibilantly. “I think you had better explain yourself.”
“Of course Sir,” I said with as much false enthusiasm as I could muster. Appearing like a cheerful know-it-all schoolgirl was my stock in trade. People expected it; it was a persona that people found comfortable and easy to like. Well, most people, current company excluded. All that aside, most people found the predictable happy schoolgirl disarming and easy to overlook, which of course is just fine with me.
“I’ve decided to go off board Sir.”
“What?” The incredulous way he uttered that one word was enough to tug a genuine smile from my lips. I do so love putting people off kilter. And yet nobody listens when Ron claims that I’m mental.
“I’m tired of all this. Camping really isn’t my style.”
“How unfortunate for you.”
“At any rate, I’ve decided that I’m sick of all of this. Waiting for the final battle. Waiting for Harry to be ready. Trying to figure out all the nonsensical clues Dumbledore left us. It’s stupid, and it’s pointless and I don’t want to play anymore.”
“Indeed?”
“So I’m changing the game. I’ve decided to forgo the Final Battle and just kill Voldy myself.”
His arched eyebrow was kinda sexy in a deadly and psychotic sort of way. But it hinted that he was curious, and curiosity was a good thing. Indeed.
“You’re just going to kill him?” he asked with a smug note of disbelieving.
“Well of course I have a plan,” I countered obnoxiously.
“Of course you do,” he echoed. “Far for me to believe that the ever insufferable Miss Granger would embark on any tickle-brained scheme without a plan.”
I remained quiet. I let the pause work up his inner curiosity, because there was no doubt he was interested, but the more information he had at this early stage the more he’d be apt to just walk away once his curiosity was sated.
“And you need me, Miss Granger,” he drawled, “a Deatheater? The Headmaster’s notorious double-crossing spy? The Headmaster’s executioner?”
“I don’t need your loyalty Snape. I need your expertise. Few know the dark arts as well as you do.” I let that statement hang out there, lingering. Hopefully enticing.
Whatever reaction mentioning dark arts had it didn’t show. I couldn’t see a single muscle twitch, but then again, I couldn’t see his hands either. Somehow I imagined them clenched in fists which seemed to fit his mood.
I ploughed on again. “I’ve charmed this mirror to activate as a portkey; it’ll take us to a neutral location. If you’re interested, or rather if you and your Dark Lord are interested in knowing more, let’s meet face to face.”
After a breath catching moment he nodded in acquiescence. I listened at the door to hear if the boys had stirred at all. No, not a thing. I could probably disappear for a few hours with raising any kind of alarm.
“Well?” I asked trying to keep the hesitancy out of my voice. Trying to sound self assured, and as if I knew what I was doing.
“What assurances do I have that your portkey won’t deliver me straight to the Order?”
“You don’t,” I said softly. “I’m sorry, but I doubt that there’s anything I can tell you that’ll give you assurance. You’ll just have to trust that I want to end this more than I want to string you up.”
Funny how truthful that statement was.
“I’ll meet with you Miss Granger,” he spoke stiffly.
“Now?” I asked hopefully.
His jaw clenched, and I just knew he was clenching his fists for certain this time, but he relaxed and nodded.
With a circular swish and flick I tapped the mirror, whispered portus and activated both portkeys.
Yikes, not a single piece of feedback or concrit. Regardless, thanks for reading. A.V.
Chapter 2
Three days later the mirror in my back pocket burned. Ron was sprawled out on one of the cots; Harry was out wandering the woods or more likely off wanking, and nobody noticed my high-pitched yelp as it burned me in the ass. In retrospect it wasn’t the smartest idea I’ve ever had. Running for the loo I pried the closed circuit mirror out of my snug jeans and stared at the black and foreboding face of my ex-professor. His eyes were narrowed menacingly at me, but the entire effect was quite diluted via mirror.
“Miss Granger,” he hissed sibilantly. “I think you had better explain yourself.”
“Of course Sir,” I said with as much false enthusiasm as I could muster. Appearing like a cheerful know-it-all schoolgirl was my stock in trade. People expected it; it was a persona that people found comfortable and easy to like. Well, most people, current company excluded. All that aside, most people found the predictable happy schoolgirl disarming and easy to overlook, which of course is just fine with me.
“I’ve decided to go off board Sir.”
“What?” The incredulous way he uttered that one word was enough to tug a genuine smile from my lips. I do so love putting people off kilter. And yet nobody listens when Ron claims that I’m mental.
“I’m tired of all this. Camping really isn’t my style.”
“How unfortunate for you.”
“At any rate, I’ve decided that I’m sick of all of this. Waiting for the final battle. Waiting for Harry to be ready. Trying to figure out all the nonsensical clues Dumbledore left us. It’s stupid, and it’s pointless and I don’t want to play anymore.”
“Indeed?”
“So I’m changing the game. I’ve decided to forgo the Final Battle and just kill Voldy myself.”
His arched eyebrow was kinda sexy in a deadly and psychotic sort of way. But it hinted that he was curious, and curiosity was a good thing. Indeed.
“You’re just going to kill him?” he asked with a smug note of disbelieving.
“Well of course I have a plan,” I countered obnoxiously.
“Of course you do,” he echoed. “Far for me to believe that the ever insufferable Miss Granger would embark on any tickle-brained scheme without a plan.”
I remained quiet. I let the pause work up his inner curiosity, because there was no doubt he was interested, but the more information he had at this early stage the more he’d be apt to just walk away once his curiosity was sated.
“And you need me, Miss Granger,” he drawled, “a Deatheater? The Headmaster’s notorious double-crossing spy? The Headmaster’s executioner?”
“I don’t need your loyalty Snape. I need your expertise. Few know the dark arts as well as you do.” I let that statement hang out there, lingering. Hopefully enticing.
Whatever reaction mentioning dark arts had it didn’t show. I couldn’t see a single muscle twitch, but then again, I couldn’t see his hands either. Somehow I imagined them clenched in fists which seemed to fit his mood.
I ploughed on again. “I’ve charmed this mirror to activate as a portkey; it’ll take us to a neutral location. If you’re interested, or rather if you and your Dark Lord are interested in knowing more, let’s meet face to face.”
After a breath catching moment he nodded in acquiescence. I listened at the door to hear if the boys had stirred at all. No, not a thing. I could probably disappear for a few hours with raising any kind of alarm.
“Well?” I asked trying to keep the hesitancy out of my voice. Trying to sound self assured, and as if I knew what I was doing.
“What assurances do I have that your portkey won’t deliver me straight to the Order?”
“You don’t,” I said softly. “I’m sorry, but I doubt that there’s anything I can tell you that’ll give you assurance. You’ll just have to trust that I want to end this more than I want to string you up.”
Funny how truthful that statement was.
“I’ll meet with you Miss Granger,” he spoke stiffly.
“Now?” I asked hopefully.
His jaw clenched, and I just knew he was clenching his fists for certain this time, but he relaxed and nodded.
With a circular swish and flick I tapped the mirror, whispered portus and activated both portkeys.
Yikes, not a single piece of feedback or concrit. Regardless, thanks for reading. A.V.