Custody Battle
folder
Harry Potter › Het - Male/Female › Snape/Hermione
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
23
Views:
20,637
Reviews:
164
Recommended:
1
Currently Reading:
1
Category:
Harry Potter › Het - Male/Female › Snape/Hermione
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
23
Views:
20,637
Reviews:
164
Recommended:
1
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.
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A/N: Thank you to all of my reviewers, I appreciate it. And I'm sorry these first three chapters have been brief, however I promise the next one will be longer. :)
Three weeks after the leaving ceremony Hermione found herself buried in a bowl of black raspberry sorbet, alone at a table in Florene Fortesque’s Ice Cream Parlor. She’d told her parents that she’d needed some time to finalize things and had taken out a flat over top of the building across from Olivander’s wand shop.
The sun had all but set as she’d made her way out of the ice cream shop. But a few steps down the ally had her frozen to her spot, mouth gaping in shock.
“Bloody murderous wanker!” shouted what looked like Seamus Finnegan. “Go on, you greasy git! Have a go at me!” he spat, spinning his wand around. “A bluish gray beam shot from its tip and a dozen tiny winged rats flew toward Severus Snape who was struggling against two beams of red light that were twisting his arms in every direction.
“Right arsehole,” shouted another boy, a Ravenclaw that Hermione recognized only from his house associations. The winged rats had begun to scratch at his face, biting his nose, tugging at his hair. “Bloody git!” the boy smirked and blasted Severus with another charm. This one flipped him upside down.
Several other boys seemed to appear, each laughing and shouting, making crude gestures at Severus until finally the boy that Hermione knew to be Ernie McMillan swung forward and punched him hard in the ribs. The others joined suit, pummeling his face and torso, a few even getting a couple of hard kicks near his crotch. He sputtered and coughed, struggling helplessly against them, blood running down his face.
Shaking herself from her stupor, Hermione ran forward. “Stop it! Leave him alone! You bastards! Stop!”
The Ravenclaw was the first to hear her and he took a step back. “It’s her! It’s Granger!” But before she could draw her wand and hex them properly, they disapparated. Severus fell to the ground, crumpled over himself.
She practically dove to the ground beside him, both hands on his shoulders. “Professor, are you alright?” her voice filled with panic as he turned his bloodied face to her.
“Get off me,” he growled, a gush of blood and a piece of tooth tumbling from his mouth.
“You’re hurt! You’ve been attacked!”
“I’ve bloody noticed!” he spat, wheezing in a breath as he pulled himself up to sitting, an arm clutched around his ribs.
“We need to get you help. I’ll call for the ministry—”
“Don’t bother,” his voice was a raspy hiss.
“What?”
“I said don’t bother, no one will help me.” Severus closed his eyes, panting hard when he felt her hand cover his. “Get off me, you stupid girl.”
“Professor, you’re hurt, you’re bleeding and you need help. This needs to be reported! They can’t just beat the living daylights out of you because they feel like it or because they want to!”
“Granger,” he spat, wincing in pain, blood running down his lips. “This is the real world, not Hogwarts. The ministry doesn’t give a horses arse about me and will more than likely run off to congratulate the boys who did this. I’m well adjusted to this, so bugger off.”
Her face wrinkled into a scowl. “You’re a cold, calloused git,” she huffed as she began to rummage in her small beaded purse. “But you’re still a person, a person who’s bleeding.” Pulling out a white cloth hanky, she pressed it against his swollen, bleeding nose. “I want to help.”
A sharp intake of breath was his response as she pressed her fingers against his torso. “Ah!”
“I think you’ve cracked a rib.” She said.
“Bloody obnoxious and observer of all things obvious,” he spat and winced again.
She narrowed her eyes at him. With wand in hand, she waved it over his chest, muttering a few spells, and blue sparks shot at his ribs. “That should help, though I’m not a mediwitch.”
“It’s suitable.”
“You’re welcome.” Hermione moved to stand. “You think you can stand?”
“Where is my wand?” he asked, wincing and sucking back a hiss as he turned his head from side to side.
She frowned, picking two pieces of it from the ground. “Erm…”
He sighed and held out his palm. With her hanky pressed against his nose, he pressed his hands against his leg and attempted to stand. But before he could achieve a state of balance, he was pitching backward, eyes rolling back into his head.
“Professor!” she cried, scrambling to get behind him. The weight of his body knocked her back as his shoulders hit her chest. Tumbling to the ground with an ‘oof’ Hermione found herself crushed beneath him. “Urgh,” she cried, flicking her wand. “Levicorpus!”
Three weeks after the leaving ceremony Hermione found herself buried in a bowl of black raspberry sorbet, alone at a table in Florene Fortesque’s Ice Cream Parlor. She’d told her parents that she’d needed some time to finalize things and had taken out a flat over top of the building across from Olivander’s wand shop.
The sun had all but set as she’d made her way out of the ice cream shop. But a few steps down the ally had her frozen to her spot, mouth gaping in shock.
“Bloody murderous wanker!” shouted what looked like Seamus Finnegan. “Go on, you greasy git! Have a go at me!” he spat, spinning his wand around. “A bluish gray beam shot from its tip and a dozen tiny winged rats flew toward Severus Snape who was struggling against two beams of red light that were twisting his arms in every direction.
“Right arsehole,” shouted another boy, a Ravenclaw that Hermione recognized only from his house associations. The winged rats had begun to scratch at his face, biting his nose, tugging at his hair. “Bloody git!” the boy smirked and blasted Severus with another charm. This one flipped him upside down.
Several other boys seemed to appear, each laughing and shouting, making crude gestures at Severus until finally the boy that Hermione knew to be Ernie McMillan swung forward and punched him hard in the ribs. The others joined suit, pummeling his face and torso, a few even getting a couple of hard kicks near his crotch. He sputtered and coughed, struggling helplessly against them, blood running down his face.
Shaking herself from her stupor, Hermione ran forward. “Stop it! Leave him alone! You bastards! Stop!”
The Ravenclaw was the first to hear her and he took a step back. “It’s her! It’s Granger!” But before she could draw her wand and hex them properly, they disapparated. Severus fell to the ground, crumpled over himself.
She practically dove to the ground beside him, both hands on his shoulders. “Professor, are you alright?” her voice filled with panic as he turned his bloodied face to her.
“Get off me,” he growled, a gush of blood and a piece of tooth tumbling from his mouth.
“You’re hurt! You’ve been attacked!”
“I’ve bloody noticed!” he spat, wheezing in a breath as he pulled himself up to sitting, an arm clutched around his ribs.
“We need to get you help. I’ll call for the ministry—”
“Don’t bother,” his voice was a raspy hiss.
“What?”
“I said don’t bother, no one will help me.” Severus closed his eyes, panting hard when he felt her hand cover his. “Get off me, you stupid girl.”
“Professor, you’re hurt, you’re bleeding and you need help. This needs to be reported! They can’t just beat the living daylights out of you because they feel like it or because they want to!”
“Granger,” he spat, wincing in pain, blood running down his lips. “This is the real world, not Hogwarts. The ministry doesn’t give a horses arse about me and will more than likely run off to congratulate the boys who did this. I’m well adjusted to this, so bugger off.”
Her face wrinkled into a scowl. “You’re a cold, calloused git,” she huffed as she began to rummage in her small beaded purse. “But you’re still a person, a person who’s bleeding.” Pulling out a white cloth hanky, she pressed it against his swollen, bleeding nose. “I want to help.”
A sharp intake of breath was his response as she pressed her fingers against his torso. “Ah!”
“I think you’ve cracked a rib.” She said.
“Bloody obnoxious and observer of all things obvious,” he spat and winced again.
She narrowed her eyes at him. With wand in hand, she waved it over his chest, muttering a few spells, and blue sparks shot at his ribs. “That should help, though I’m not a mediwitch.”
“It’s suitable.”
“You’re welcome.” Hermione moved to stand. “You think you can stand?”
“Where is my wand?” he asked, wincing and sucking back a hiss as he turned his head from side to side.
She frowned, picking two pieces of it from the ground. “Erm…”
He sighed and held out his palm. With her hanky pressed against his nose, he pressed his hands against his leg and attempted to stand. But before he could achieve a state of balance, he was pitching backward, eyes rolling back into his head.
“Professor!” she cried, scrambling to get behind him. The weight of his body knocked her back as his shoulders hit her chest. Tumbling to the ground with an ‘oof’ Hermione found herself crushed beneath him. “Urgh,” she cried, flicking her wand. “Levicorpus!”