It\'s All Done With Mirrors
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Harry Potter › Het - Male/Female › Snape/Hermione
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Category:
Harry Potter › Het - Male/Female › Snape/Hermione
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
38
Views:
10,657
Reviews:
120
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.
Twenty Six - Communion
Again I\'m posting this chapter on behalf of the author - and I\'m about to go visit her in hospital, so I\'ll be sure to pass on the get well wishes you guys left in the reviews section. I\'m sure she\'ll be thrilled!
Chapter Twenty Six
Communion
Gryffindor Common Room, Hogwarts, August 2010
He was fast asleep, the blanket covering most of his face. I heaved a sigh of relief as I checked he was breathing, and warm enough.
“Who is that?”
Snape was looking over my shoulder, and I could feel his breath warm on my neck, gently ruffling loose strands of my hair which, in its most unruly fashion, had extricated itself from the plait I’d forced it into earlier.
I tried to think what to say, but Snape interrupted my inadequate brainstorming by answering his own question. “Oh, it’s Robin Chapeau. I met him earlier on today in the Great Hall.”
“I bumped into him in the Library,” I began to say, then stopped as my son turned over in his sleep.
“Professor Snape, if we are to talk, then I’d prefer it if we didn’t have to keep our voices down,” I whispered, standing up and facing him.
He raised an eyebrow. “So you agree with me then, that any discussion we might have could get quite…heated?” His voice sounded like raw silk, and I forced myself to look away. There would be absolutely none of that, I decided, shooting him one of my best condescending glares, which, judging by his soft laugh, completely failed to hit the intended mark.
“In that case, Mrsasleasley, might I suggest that we put this chap to bed in the boys’ dormitory?”
I nodded, looking at the floor. ‘No lemon drops stuck to the shag pile here,’ I thought, rather vapidly.
Snape bent down and, with a gentleness that surprised me, lifted the boy…my son – Our son…Merlin’s Wand! – and carried him, blanket and all, through the narrow doorway which led to the boys’ dorm.
I sat upon the couch, looking into the flames, trying to decide how much to tell Snape.
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Headmistress’s Office, Hogwarts, August 2010
“Albus, I don’t like this,” Minerva McGonnagall pursed her lips, holding on to her scrying mirror with a shaking hand. The glass had remained dark, although she’d used over twenty different scrying incantations.
“Nor do I, Albus.” The Minister of Magic’s face was pale. “But at least it may mean that Mrs. Malfoy has not acquired another wand…yet.”
“It still doesn’t explain why we cannot locate Miss Bulstrode. Her father has not seen anything of her, and is beginning to fear she is dead. And Albus, I have to say I am beginning to share his concern.” Minerva unscrewed the scrying mirror from her wand, and placed it back among her robes.
“Minerva…Arthur…we must remain calm. While I was away from Hogwarts, I could not detect the presence of Miss Bulstrode anywhere in the British Isles. Which must mean that she is still alive, and most likely protected from locating spells with strong concealment charms. Of Mrs. Malfoy, also, there was no sign. Which leads me to suspect that the two of them are together somewhere.”
“But what are they up to? All this waiting around, anticipating disaster to strike…it’s worse than when You Know Who was alive!” Minerva was near tears, and Albus crossed the room towards her, his armtstrtstretched to comfort her.
“We must sit tight. We, too, have strong wards, and we know our enemies’ intentions. No one can leave Hogwarts, besides myself, and Arthur here. Our Aurors are the best the Ministry could provide. We have much to be thankful for, dear Minerva.”
Arthur rose from his chair, and pulled his robes snugly round his shoulders. “I should get back to Fred and George’s. Everyone else has left Ronald and Athena’s Naming party, and if I’m not careful, we’ll have Molly Flooing back in, demanding an explanation!”
Albus chuckled. “Goodnight then, Arthur,” he called, as the Minister of Magic strode wearily to the fireplace. There was a puff of ashes, and he was gone.
Minerva looked up into the wizened face of the man she loved. “I see you managed to avoid Severus again this evening.”
The old man nodded. “I expect he’s still waiting outside Harry’s rooms.” He chuckled. “May I borrow your scrying mirror, Minerva?”
Minerva looked at him, her expression mild. “What scrying mirror would that be, Albus?”
Albus Dumbledore knew when he’d gone too far, and had the decency to bow to Minerva’s judgement. He knew she disapproved of the meddling way he was inclined to go about his business, and besides, there wasn’t the time to continue spying and plotting while there was a crisis on.
“Minerva, we should go and ask Poppy for some Pepper-up. It’s going to be a while before either of us can go to our beds.”
+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*
The Owlery, Hogwarts, August 2010
Nathan Bulstrode tied the small scroll onto the leg of a tawny owl. His hands shook with excitement as it hooted twice, and flew off.
It would only be a matter of waiting a day or so, and then he, Nathan, would have his very own Portkey!
+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+**+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+
Gryffindor Common Room, Hogwarts, August 2010
I listened to Snape’s footsteps as he descended the spiral staircase. Two cups of coffee ancoffcoffeepot steamed on a small table in front of me, having been brought by a most unwilling Winky.
I picked mine up, and took a sip. The sweet liquid bathed my tongue with luxurious warmth, making me close my eyes and sigh with pleasure.
“Um…all set,” his voice seeped into my sensual moment, and I opened my eyes to see him standing beside the couch, an unreadable expression on his face.
“Is he still asleep?” I asked, trying to ignore the responses my body was making due to his very presence.
He cleared his throat, and answered, smoothly. “He awoke as I was pulling the curtains about his bed. He asked where you were, and I told him you were just downstairs. He’s asleep again now,” he continued, and I gestured towards the other cup of coffee, steaming on the small table.
Snape bent over to take it, and again the aroma of sandalwood, citrus and spice assaulted my senses. Resisting the urge to pull him down on top of me, I simply squirmed in my seat until he had circled the couch and sat himself down on the other end.
I took a deep breath, and looked him straight in the eye. “Professor Snape, I’m going to tell you what I know. Please don’t interrupt, or storm off or anything like that. Just listen…please.”
He simply raised one eyebrow and then nodded.
“The way I see it, Professor, none of this should have happened. If I hadn\'t left the Wizarding world and instead had stayed to face up to my responsibilities, we would not be sitting here now, in a Castle under siege. I’m not proud of myself. I acted foolishly…like a coward…most un-Gryffindorlike, I’m afraid. I lied, kept secrets, and eventually I plain lost the plot. And now it’s time to try to put some of this right. It’s scaring me…but I’m determined to grasp the nettle and try to bring the Hermione Granger I once was back into the fore.”
I took another drink of coffee, staring into the flames of the fire. “That said, there have been a few nasty shocks recently. I don’t like the way I’ve been messed around, people plotting behind my back. I know I probably sound like Mad-Eye Moody, but these recent events have made me quite twitchy, and it’s hard for me to consider trusting anyone enough to share my story with.”
I cleared my throat, and turned to face Snape. “Before I start, I want to make one thing absolutely clear. From now on, you will address me as Hermione. Not Miss Granger, Mrs. Weasley, or even Miss Jones.”
Again, the eyebrow raised quizzically.
I continued, maintaining eye contact. “There’s no room in this story for recriminations, name-calling, lies, half-truths and secrets. I will not tolerate it any more. Nod if you understand.”
His hands curled round his coffee mug, Snape nodded. I had got this far, and he hadn\'t stalked out or spoken out of turn. Good.
Severus Snape sat completely still, listening intently, as I began to tell him about the past twelve years of my life.
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Opportunity Squibs Office, Knockturn Alley, August 2010
Millicent Bulstrode cast a scornful glance at the sleeping Ron.
“To be honest, Pan, I never really understood what you saw in him,” she said, shaking her head. “I always thought it weird when you had your secret little fling with him at Hogwarts, considering you practically took the top of my head off when you found out I fancied Draco.”
Pansy smirked. “A girl’s gotta do what a girl’s gotta do, Millie darlinet’set’s face it, the only way I was going to get any information about that fucking Know-It-All mudblood was to get friendly with one of her little chums. Potter was out, of course, he would have seen me coming…but Weasel here…” she stroked his cheek, causing him to shudder in his sleep. “Little Ronnie here – Astarte’s rags, Mill, it was almost too easy!”
Pansy shook her head in disgust. “At first, all I’d wanted was some information – anything I could use to hurt her. Granger had pissed me off throughout the entire Sixth year with her nasty little goody-two-shoes act. Honestly, the cow practically swanned about Hogwarts like she owned the place!”
Millicent laughed sarcastically. “And of course it had nothing to do with the fact that you weren’t made a Prefect in the Sixth year?”
“You little bitch!” Pansy’s face was nearly black with rage. She reached into the sleeve of her gown…
Millicent Bulstrode nearly collapsed with derisive laughter. “One point to me, Pansy darling! You really must control that temper of yours, or else I won’t help you.”
Pansy’s face was contorted with fury, but she said nothing.
“So, to pick up your little story, Pan. You wante fin find out something about Granger, and so you shagged one of her mates? And did you discover anything monumental from your extreme sacrifice?”
Pansy snorted. “Actually, I did. I discovered that Weasley’s dear little mudblood friend was, in fact, the love of his life. The Witch of his dreams...”
“Well, that’s no great fucking surprise, Pan. Granger was the Gryffindor Sweetheart. I frankly got sick and tired of listening to the Slytherin boys talking about her in the dorms at night,” Millicent snapped.
“You and me both, Mill. The last bloody straw was when I’d heard Draco telling Goyle he’d like to ‘lie Granger on a litter and lick her like a lollipop’. * She had to go. But with her little pair of bodyguards hanging round her like a bad smell, I had no chance. That changed in the Seventh year, though…when all of a sudden Weasley was sleeping with me.”
Pansy tugged sharply at a lock of Ron’s hair, and he winced but didn’t wake up.
“Ronnie seemed to find it difficult to break up with me, for some reason. It must have been my fantastic body…or perhaps my sexual genius…and just maybe it was helped by a little temporary binding charm…”
Millicent shook her head. “Seems an awful penance to have to make, just to make sure Granger kept off Draco’s litter. I wouldn’t go near Weasley with a ten-foot wand! Couldn’t you have just hexed her with boils, Pan?”
“This wasn’t about Draco, you idiot! He’s always been second choice! I couldn’t stand to see that ugly little mudblood sneak into the heart of the person I considered…still consider, actually…my property.”
Millicent looked curiously at her former classmate, and listened closely.
“Granger wasn’t content with bringing shame on the Slytherin students…she only bloody well ensnared Severus as well!”
“Pansy…you’re not suggesting…Shit! You are! Oh Hecate’s Blood, Pansy that’s disgusting!” Millicent turned pale with revulsion.
“Ronnie here’s been a great help, of course. It’s taken longer than I expected…but I didn’t foresee that bloody Wandless matter. But we’re back in business now, aren’t we, Ronnie?” Pansy bent over and dropped a kiss on Ron’s cheek. He moaned, frowning in his sleep.
“Because Ronnie here is going to follow the Destructum Amator right to the bitter end!”
Millicent gazed at Pansy in awe.
There was a tapping at the window, and Pansy turned lazily towards it.
“Oh, look, Millie. You’ve got mail.”
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* ‘Lie you on a litter and lick you like a lolly.’ – this is somewhat shamelessly pinched from the glorious Stephen Fry’s novel “The Hippopotamus” Thanks Stephen, I love you.
@@@@
Chapter Twenty Six
Communion
Gryffindor Common Room, Hogwarts, August 2010
He was fast asleep, the blanket covering most of his face. I heaved a sigh of relief as I checked he was breathing, and warm enough.
“Who is that?”
Snape was looking over my shoulder, and I could feel his breath warm on my neck, gently ruffling loose strands of my hair which, in its most unruly fashion, had extricated itself from the plait I’d forced it into earlier.
I tried to think what to say, but Snape interrupted my inadequate brainstorming by answering his own question. “Oh, it’s Robin Chapeau. I met him earlier on today in the Great Hall.”
“I bumped into him in the Library,” I began to say, then stopped as my son turned over in his sleep.
“Professor Snape, if we are to talk, then I’d prefer it if we didn’t have to keep our voices down,” I whispered, standing up and facing him.
He raised an eyebrow. “So you agree with me then, that any discussion we might have could get quite…heated?” His voice sounded like raw silk, and I forced myself to look away. There would be absolutely none of that, I decided, shooting him one of my best condescending glares, which, judging by his soft laugh, completely failed to hit the intended mark.
“In that case, Mrsasleasley, might I suggest that we put this chap to bed in the boys’ dormitory?”
I nodded, looking at the floor. ‘No lemon drops stuck to the shag pile here,’ I thought, rather vapidly.
Snape bent down and, with a gentleness that surprised me, lifted the boy…my son – Our son…Merlin’s Wand! – and carried him, blanket and all, through the narrow doorway which led to the boys’ dorm.
I sat upon the couch, looking into the flames, trying to decide how much to tell Snape.
+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+
Headmistress’s Office, Hogwarts, August 2010
“Albus, I don’t like this,” Minerva McGonnagall pursed her lips, holding on to her scrying mirror with a shaking hand. The glass had remained dark, although she’d used over twenty different scrying incantations.
“Nor do I, Albus.” The Minister of Magic’s face was pale. “But at least it may mean that Mrs. Malfoy has not acquired another wand…yet.”
“It still doesn’t explain why we cannot locate Miss Bulstrode. Her father has not seen anything of her, and is beginning to fear she is dead. And Albus, I have to say I am beginning to share his concern.” Minerva unscrewed the scrying mirror from her wand, and placed it back among her robes.
“Minerva…Arthur…we must remain calm. While I was away from Hogwarts, I could not detect the presence of Miss Bulstrode anywhere in the British Isles. Which must mean that she is still alive, and most likely protected from locating spells with strong concealment charms. Of Mrs. Malfoy, also, there was no sign. Which leads me to suspect that the two of them are together somewhere.”
“But what are they up to? All this waiting around, anticipating disaster to strike…it’s worse than when You Know Who was alive!” Minerva was near tears, and Albus crossed the room towards her, his armtstrtstretched to comfort her.
“We must sit tight. We, too, have strong wards, and we know our enemies’ intentions. No one can leave Hogwarts, besides myself, and Arthur here. Our Aurors are the best the Ministry could provide. We have much to be thankful for, dear Minerva.”
Arthur rose from his chair, and pulled his robes snugly round his shoulders. “I should get back to Fred and George’s. Everyone else has left Ronald and Athena’s Naming party, and if I’m not careful, we’ll have Molly Flooing back in, demanding an explanation!”
Albus chuckled. “Goodnight then, Arthur,” he called, as the Minister of Magic strode wearily to the fireplace. There was a puff of ashes, and he was gone.
Minerva looked up into the wizened face of the man she loved. “I see you managed to avoid Severus again this evening.”
The old man nodded. “I expect he’s still waiting outside Harry’s rooms.” He chuckled. “May I borrow your scrying mirror, Minerva?”
Minerva looked at him, her expression mild. “What scrying mirror would that be, Albus?”
Albus Dumbledore knew when he’d gone too far, and had the decency to bow to Minerva’s judgement. He knew she disapproved of the meddling way he was inclined to go about his business, and besides, there wasn’t the time to continue spying and plotting while there was a crisis on.
“Minerva, we should go and ask Poppy for some Pepper-up. It’s going to be a while before either of us can go to our beds.”
+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*
The Owlery, Hogwarts, August 2010
Nathan Bulstrode tied the small scroll onto the leg of a tawny owl. His hands shook with excitement as it hooted twice, and flew off.
It would only be a matter of waiting a day or so, and then he, Nathan, would have his very own Portkey!
+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+**+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+
Gryffindor Common Room, Hogwarts, August 2010
I listened to Snape’s footsteps as he descended the spiral staircase. Two cups of coffee ancoffcoffeepot steamed on a small table in front of me, having been brought by a most unwilling Winky.
I picked mine up, and took a sip. The sweet liquid bathed my tongue with luxurious warmth, making me close my eyes and sigh with pleasure.
“Um…all set,” his voice seeped into my sensual moment, and I opened my eyes to see him standing beside the couch, an unreadable expression on his face.
“Is he still asleep?” I asked, trying to ignore the responses my body was making due to his very presence.
He cleared his throat, and answered, smoothly. “He awoke as I was pulling the curtains about his bed. He asked where you were, and I told him you were just downstairs. He’s asleep again now,” he continued, and I gestured towards the other cup of coffee, steaming on the small table.
Snape bent over to take it, and again the aroma of sandalwood, citrus and spice assaulted my senses. Resisting the urge to pull him down on top of me, I simply squirmed in my seat until he had circled the couch and sat himself down on the other end.
I took a deep breath, and looked him straight in the eye. “Professor Snape, I’m going to tell you what I know. Please don’t interrupt, or storm off or anything like that. Just listen…please.”
He simply raised one eyebrow and then nodded.
“The way I see it, Professor, none of this should have happened. If I hadn\'t left the Wizarding world and instead had stayed to face up to my responsibilities, we would not be sitting here now, in a Castle under siege. I’m not proud of myself. I acted foolishly…like a coward…most un-Gryffindorlike, I’m afraid. I lied, kept secrets, and eventually I plain lost the plot. And now it’s time to try to put some of this right. It’s scaring me…but I’m determined to grasp the nettle and try to bring the Hermione Granger I once was back into the fore.”
I took another drink of coffee, staring into the flames of the fire. “That said, there have been a few nasty shocks recently. I don’t like the way I’ve been messed around, people plotting behind my back. I know I probably sound like Mad-Eye Moody, but these recent events have made me quite twitchy, and it’s hard for me to consider trusting anyone enough to share my story with.”
I cleared my throat, and turned to face Snape. “Before I start, I want to make one thing absolutely clear. From now on, you will address me as Hermione. Not Miss Granger, Mrs. Weasley, or even Miss Jones.”
Again, the eyebrow raised quizzically.
I continued, maintaining eye contact. “There’s no room in this story for recriminations, name-calling, lies, half-truths and secrets. I will not tolerate it any more. Nod if you understand.”
His hands curled round his coffee mug, Snape nodded. I had got this far, and he hadn\'t stalked out or spoken out of turn. Good.
Severus Snape sat completely still, listening intently, as I began to tell him about the past twelve years of my life.
+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*
Opportunity Squibs Office, Knockturn Alley, August 2010
Millicent Bulstrode cast a scornful glance at the sleeping Ron.
“To be honest, Pan, I never really understood what you saw in him,” she said, shaking her head. “I always thought it weird when you had your secret little fling with him at Hogwarts, considering you practically took the top of my head off when you found out I fancied Draco.”
Pansy smirked. “A girl’s gotta do what a girl’s gotta do, Millie darlinet’set’s face it, the only way I was going to get any information about that fucking Know-It-All mudblood was to get friendly with one of her little chums. Potter was out, of course, he would have seen me coming…but Weasel here…” she stroked his cheek, causing him to shudder in his sleep. “Little Ronnie here – Astarte’s rags, Mill, it was almost too easy!”
Pansy shook her head in disgust. “At first, all I’d wanted was some information – anything I could use to hurt her. Granger had pissed me off throughout the entire Sixth year with her nasty little goody-two-shoes act. Honestly, the cow practically swanned about Hogwarts like she owned the place!”
Millicent laughed sarcastically. “And of course it had nothing to do with the fact that you weren’t made a Prefect in the Sixth year?”
“You little bitch!” Pansy’s face was nearly black with rage. She reached into the sleeve of her gown…
Millicent Bulstrode nearly collapsed with derisive laughter. “One point to me, Pansy darling! You really must control that temper of yours, or else I won’t help you.”
Pansy’s face was contorted with fury, but she said nothing.
“So, to pick up your little story, Pan. You wante fin find out something about Granger, and so you shagged one of her mates? And did you discover anything monumental from your extreme sacrifice?”
Pansy snorted. “Actually, I did. I discovered that Weasley’s dear little mudblood friend was, in fact, the love of his life. The Witch of his dreams...”
“Well, that’s no great fucking surprise, Pan. Granger was the Gryffindor Sweetheart. I frankly got sick and tired of listening to the Slytherin boys talking about her in the dorms at night,” Millicent snapped.
“You and me both, Mill. The last bloody straw was when I’d heard Draco telling Goyle he’d like to ‘lie Granger on a litter and lick her like a lollipop’. * She had to go. But with her little pair of bodyguards hanging round her like a bad smell, I had no chance. That changed in the Seventh year, though…when all of a sudden Weasley was sleeping with me.”
Pansy tugged sharply at a lock of Ron’s hair, and he winced but didn’t wake up.
“Ronnie seemed to find it difficult to break up with me, for some reason. It must have been my fantastic body…or perhaps my sexual genius…and just maybe it was helped by a little temporary binding charm…”
Millicent shook her head. “Seems an awful penance to have to make, just to make sure Granger kept off Draco’s litter. I wouldn’t go near Weasley with a ten-foot wand! Couldn’t you have just hexed her with boils, Pan?”
“This wasn’t about Draco, you idiot! He’s always been second choice! I couldn’t stand to see that ugly little mudblood sneak into the heart of the person I considered…still consider, actually…my property.”
Millicent looked curiously at her former classmate, and listened closely.
“Granger wasn’t content with bringing shame on the Slytherin students…she only bloody well ensnared Severus as well!”
“Pansy…you’re not suggesting…Shit! You are! Oh Hecate’s Blood, Pansy that’s disgusting!” Millicent turned pale with revulsion.
“Ronnie here’s been a great help, of course. It’s taken longer than I expected…but I didn’t foresee that bloody Wandless matter. But we’re back in business now, aren’t we, Ronnie?” Pansy bent over and dropped a kiss on Ron’s cheek. He moaned, frowning in his sleep.
“Because Ronnie here is going to follow the Destructum Amator right to the bitter end!”
Millicent gazed at Pansy in awe.
There was a tapping at the window, and Pansy turned lazily towards it.
“Oh, look, Millie. You’ve got mail.”
@@@@
* ‘Lie you on a litter and lick you like a lolly.’ – this is somewhat shamelessly pinched from the glorious Stephen Fry’s novel “The Hippopotamus” Thanks Stephen, I love you.
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