Never Piss Off a House-Elf
folder
Harry Potter › Het - Male/Female › Snape/Hermione
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
41
Views:
19,747
Reviews:
64
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
1
Category:
Harry Potter › Het - Male/Female › Snape/Hermione
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
41
Views:
19,747
Reviews:
64
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
1
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.
Making Changes for the Humans' Good
Chapter 3: Making Changes for the Humans' Good
Satchel fretted all day once he left Hermione's side. He'd grown to adore the girl, and was wondering if she might come back to teach at Hogwart's, and if he perhaps would be assigned to her again. She rarely made him feel the need to iron his face or even stub his toes, but he knew that he should do so more often, in anticipation of less lenient masters and mistresses. He would be ironing his face for the next month, however, once he delivered the missive.
Satchel had been around people for a very long time, and he knew them. He knew he had to save his mistress, and in time, his former master. He winked along, stopping in forests to catch his breath before he made one last stop at a crossroads, drawing on the leyline below it so he could break the Unplottable spell his former master had laid down. Satchel had always been told he could come home at any time, but he always drew just that little bit of extra power, just in case the lord of the manor was in a foul and intractable mood.
Resting at the crossroads, Satchel took out Miss Hermione's letter and read it carefully. He could read, and quite well, for his master had intended originally on Satchel running the house on his own for long periods of time. Satchel had eagerly learned both to read and to write, but for some reason it never translated into his speech, which all his masters and mistresses seemed to mock. Except Hermione; that was part of why Satchel loved her so. It was also why he never told her he could read and write ~-- she'd use it to try to free him.
Hmm, Satchel thought, scanning the letter. He scratched his head before he began running his clawed fingers over the parchment. This will never do. Let's see. . .
Fifteen minutes later, Satchel was satisfied with his version of the missive, and he winked out one last time, landing on the massive doorstep of Spinner's End.
The citadel of the most formidable Potions Master of Hogwart's, or perhaps of all time.
Severus Tobias Snape.
Satchel fretted all day once he left Hermione's side. He'd grown to adore the girl, and was wondering if she might come back to teach at Hogwart's, and if he perhaps would be assigned to her again. She rarely made him feel the need to iron his face or even stub his toes, but he knew that he should do so more often, in anticipation of less lenient masters and mistresses. He would be ironing his face for the next month, however, once he delivered the missive.
Satchel had been around people for a very long time, and he knew them. He knew he had to save his mistress, and in time, his former master. He winked along, stopping in forests to catch his breath before he made one last stop at a crossroads, drawing on the leyline below it so he could break the Unplottable spell his former master had laid down. Satchel had always been told he could come home at any time, but he always drew just that little bit of extra power, just in case the lord of the manor was in a foul and intractable mood.
Resting at the crossroads, Satchel took out Miss Hermione's letter and read it carefully. He could read, and quite well, for his master had intended originally on Satchel running the house on his own for long periods of time. Satchel had eagerly learned both to read and to write, but for some reason it never translated into his speech, which all his masters and mistresses seemed to mock. Except Hermione; that was part of why Satchel loved her so. It was also why he never told her he could read and write ~-- she'd use it to try to free him.
Hmm, Satchel thought, scanning the letter. He scratched his head before he began running his clawed fingers over the parchment. This will never do. Let's see. . .
Fifteen minutes later, Satchel was satisfied with his version of the missive, and he winked out one last time, landing on the massive doorstep of Spinner's End.
The citadel of the most formidable Potions Master of Hogwart's, or perhaps of all time.
Severus Tobias Snape.