A Dark Scenario

Chapter 23 ~ A Small Confrontation

"This is ENTIRELY unacceptable," Snape seethed as he opened the door to the wooden cabin deep in the forest and looked inside. They'd had a time getting there with all the unpleasant flora and fauna present, such as rampant Devil's Snare and a tribe of very destructive ogres. Many tree trunks were tied into knots as evidence of their presence.

The canopy of the forest itself was so thick, broom travel was impossible and Apparition, even with coordinates could have been deadly. The only way to their lodgings was by going through. Hermione had never hexed so many plants in all her life. There was even carnivorous grass that kept trying to saw through her trainers to get at her feet.

Now, they stood in the doorway of the cabin. It was very rustic, all the furniture made out of knotted wood. There was a knotty table, two knotty chairs with cushions, a coarsely woven circular rug on the floor, a very old wood stove, shelves of dishes and utensils, a worn wooden bucket, two end tables, a closet and a rather quaint shower with a rickety wooden door that only covered a person's middle. Head, shoulders and feet would be visible.

Dominating the entire room was a huge bed with a hand sewn mattress, pillows and patchwork quilts. The frame was also made of knotted wood. Snape eyed the bed, his face screwed up, then he looked at the hard wood floor. There would be no comfort to be found there.

Hermione blinked at the stag's head mounted on a wall, and then at a trout mounted to a plaque. There also was a powder horn and a very old rifle, the kind that used flint and had to be packed with gunpowder. Dust seemed to be everywhere.

Hermione looked at the enormous bed and said to Snape, "So, where are you going to sleep?"

Snape scowled at her, but before he could respond Hermione added, "And where's the loo?"

Snape looked around the room, then walked to the back door and opened it, looking out into the backyard. It wasn't as overgrown and full of low brush with a little path down the middle. He smirked unpleasantly, then stepped aside so Hermione could see a small slender roofed structure made of poorly put together planks. The door hung slight askew and a crescent was carved on it.

"There," he said shortly. "The proverbial throne."

"Oh my gods. It looks as if it will come crashing down if you close the door too hard," she hissed.

"You could always go in the forest. I think the carnivorous grass would appreciate the added nutrition," Snape said, setting his bag on the bed and unpacking it.

"Very funny," Hermione said, walking to the other side of the bed and unpacking her bag. Snape noticed she had an unopened bottle of Firewhisky with her. Ogden's 1975,

A very good year.

"Now, where are you going to sleep?" Hermione asked him again.

"In the bed, of course."

Hermione stopped unpacking and looked at Snape narrow-eyed.

"If you expect me to sleep on the floor—and don't give me that "you're the help" tripe. I'm not falling for that. I've been through hell the past couple of days with you ordering me about, leaving me for dragon fodder, watching me fall off my broom while being flamed by Snapdragons and nearly having my ankle ripped off by a pissed-off Hinkypunk. I'm drawing the line right now. That's it, Severus Snape. No more!"

Snape studied her.

"Is it that time of month?" he asked, then whipped out his wand just in time to block the stunner she fired at him.

"Stop that you little hellion!" he hissed at Hermione as she shot the Expelliarmus spell at him. But he blocked that too.

"Apologize!" Hermione demanded, throwing two spells at him in quick succession. Snape blocked the first spell but his billowing robes slowed his arm movement on the next and he was hit with the Tarantallegra spell.

Hermione watched with satisfaction as Snape's legs danced wildly, the wizard spinning around, his arms flying up to catch his balance. Hermione hit him with the Petrification spell next and held her wand on him. His own wand hand was up in the air, his wand pointed at the ceiling.

"I know you can do non-verbal magic," Hermione told him. "So can release yourself, but I'm betting I can hit you with another spell before you get your wand trained on me. You're fast, but I'm just as fast, if not faster."

Snape's eyes darted back and forth angrily.

"I want your word that this duel is over," Hermione said, "Or I'll Accio your wand and toss you outside and lock you out. I swear it. No repercussions. You asked for it. I want your word, Severus, because I know you'll keep it, no matter what. Now, if you agree, shift your eyes up and down."

Snape's black eyes glinted at her for a moment, then shifted from floor to ceiling.

"Fine," Hermione said, still keeping her wand on Snape as he released himself from petrification. He looked at her blackly.

"I'm still sleeping in the bed," he growled.

"Fine. You'll just stay on your side."

A thick silence followed as they put their things away. It was too late in the evening to do any scouting. Snape started a fire in the wood stove, watching Hermione in his peripheral vision as she retrieved a glass, Scourgified it and sat down in one of the chairs. She opened the bottle of Firewhisky and poured herself a stiff shot. She set the bottle on the floor as Snape straightened and turned to look at her.

"I never suspected you for a lush," he said quietly, his eyes resting on the amber liquid in the bottle. His Adam's apple worked a bit as Hermione tossed the drink back and rasped a little. Then, she bit into a bit of chocolate she had brought along, chewing blissfully.

"Oh, that's good," she said, her eyes a bit glassy from the heat of the alcohol. She ignored his barb as she made a big production of picking up the bottle and studying it.

"1975 was a premiere year for Ogden's," she commented. "It's robust and woody with a nice burning.

Snape swallowed again.

"You certainly don't intend to drink that entire bottle yourself, do you?" he asked her, disapproval on his face.

"Why? Would you like a drink or two?" she responded with a slight smirk.

Snape's brows drew together and he didn't answer her.

Hermione looked back at him for several moments, then sighed. This was Snape. He wasn't going to ask her to share her drink, no matter how much he wanted it.

"Oh, go get a glass. Firewhisky is meant to be shared," she said to him.

Snape slowly turned and retrieved a glass. After Scourgifying it, he walked up to Hermione and towered over her, offering her the glass, his face unreadable. Hermione looked up at him, then reached down and picked up the bottle, passing it to him.

"Pour your own poison," she said with a smile.

***********************************
A/N: And a little more. Hermione couldn't take it any longer. Lol. Thanks for reading and don't forget about those hot, lemony animated snippets. ;) ***