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The Pen of Destiny (COMPLETE!!)
folder
Harry Potter › Het - Male/Female › Sirius/Hermione
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
18
Views:
7,246
Reviews:
42
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Harry Potter › Het - Male/Female › Sirius/Hermione
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
18
Views:
7,246
Reviews:
42
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own Harry Potter or any of the characters therein. Nor do I make any moneys from the writing of this story. Though Lord knows I wish I did.
Chapter Three
Hello! Here's the next chapter! Oh, and by the way, a very Happy (very belated, oops!) Mother's Day to all the moms out there! I hope you had an excellent day with your loved ones.
PLEASE READ AND REVIEW!!!
***
Chapter Three
Hermione took a deep breath letting it out slowly as what the wizard said hit home. “How?”
“The plume is a powerful object, as you may have figured,” he explained to her. “Little is known about it and what is…” Severus paused a moment. “It’s the stuff that myths are made of.” He stood up and went over to her. Hermione watched in awe as the man leaned over so that his face was inches away from her own. “Imagine that there was a pen that if you wrote something, it became so.”
“I think I saw a movie once...” she said vaguely.
This earned her a growl from the former potions professor. “Miss Granger!”
“Sorry,” she said, blushing. “Please go on.”
“Whatever is written with this quill, whatever the writer puts to paper becomes so,” he told her. “Think about it.”
Worrying her lower lip, she murmured, “The book.”
“Exactly,” he stated. “His book ‘The Prince’.” Hermione’s eyes went to his black ones that were just inches from her own. “His advice to Lorenzo de’ Medici and other princes wasn’t just advice. When he wrote those words with the plume he himself created, it became so.”
“Oh Merlin,” she breathed. “Could they bring back Tom Riddle?”
“Worse.” He stood up straight. “They could very well bring back every single death eater ever to live as well as Voldemort himself. They could kill off every person to have wronged them…”
“Muggles, muggle born, and squibs?”
“Dead or slaves.”
Swallowing back the bile that had creeped up her throat she said the only thing that came to mind. “We’d be fucked.”
“That, Miss Granger, is putting it mildly.”
***
“We won!” Ron cheered as he entered Hermione’s cramped office later that day.
“That’s good,” she answered absently as she continued to read the book in front of her.
Letting out a growl of frustration, he took the book from her and repeated, “We won!”
“I said that was good, Ronald. I don’t know what else you want me to do,” she snapped, standing up on her chair and grabbing the tome back. “And if you noticed, I’m doing something new and exciting. You might recall what that is—it’s called work.” Hopping down from her chair, she stated, “I would have thought you would be off celebrating with Lavender.”
Ron said rather dramatically, “I wanted to share my news with one of my closest, dearest friends...”
“Harry is in a meeting, I take it?” she inquired, not bothering to look at him as she went on reading.
“Yeah,” he answered, his head drooping slightly in shame that she caught on so quickly. “And Lav is in the middle of a big consultation with new clients.”
“And so that left me,” she stated, looking over to see him nodding sheepishly. Surrendering herself to the inevitable, she set aside her book, which was yielding nothing anyway. “Come on with you. Let’s pick up a pint or two and you can tell me all about the quidditch game.”
A celebration that was just to be the two of them, minutes later ended up with Harry who arrived with a very pregnant Ginny and the rest of the Weasley clan as well as several others. Hermione glared over at Ron, who grinned wickedly at her.
“I had to say something that would get you here,” Ron told her. “Cheers!”
“Right,” she muttered flatly. “Cheers.” Hermione looked over to Tom, waving him over. “Fire whiskey.”
Half an hour later she was still sipping on her drink, as Sirius slipped up next to her. “You don’t look too thrilled to be here.”
“I have work,” Hermione replied. But instead of complaining as she really wanted to, she ended up asking, “Tell me something, what have you heard about Machiavelli’s Plume?”
Putting his arm around her shoulders he inquired, “Now what would you be wanting with that, lass?”
Looking to him wearily she sighed, “I should never have taken you to see ‘Pirates of the Caribbean’.”
“All three of them,” he said with a wink.
“Any of them. Tell me what you know about the Plume.”
“Very well,” he said, and told her pretty much what she knew already. That’s until he got to, “And from what my father told me way back when, the plume vanished in the early 1950’s.”
“Do you know what it looked like?”
“A plume is a plume.” He poured them both a refill from his bottle of fire whiskey. “They all look like feathers to me.”
“What are you two secreting about?” Bill asked, joining them on the other side of their table with his own drink.
“Our girl here was asking about Machiavelli’s Plume,” Sirius told him.
“Really?” Bill looked interested. “Why?”
“Work,” she told him. “How is Fleur?”
“She’s doing well so I’ve heard,” he answered, but went on with, “Why would you be finding out about a magical artifact that has been missing for several decades and has the potential of doing a great deal of damage if it were found?”
She grabbed Sirius’s wrist, looking at the snap of his jacket. “Is that the time? I had no idea it was so late!”
“It’s only six,” Bill told her even as she was grabbing up her purse.
“But I know that somewhere in the world it must be ten pm,” she told him. “And I am just not a night owl.”
“Right,” Bill muttered, as he watched her leaving, knowing the witch was up to something.
Hermione was still struggling to put on her jacket as she was walking down the street that she was barely paying attention to what was going on around her. Between being intoxicated and her jacket, she was well and truly occupied. So she didn’t know which hit first—the man tackling her out of the way of the smashing curse that sent chips of masonry flying or the curse that would have hit her if she weren’t being knocked down like an Aussie rugby player.
Hermione felt the man’s body pinning her solidly on the ground, as spells exploded overhead. She heard a harsh curse over the ringing in her ears. Her head, she thought vaguely. She had hit her head. Reality began to slip away even as whoever had attacked ran off. She felt as she was turned over and groaned as a handkerchief pressed to her bleeding forehead.
“Sorry about that,” the man whispered, tenderly stroking her face with a shaking hand. “When I saw what was about to happen, I panicked.”
Hermione looked up into the man’s face, too dazed to recognize her own face if she saw it at that point, stared up at him as if she would a stranger. Yet there was something there that she did find familiar. It was his eyes. Absently she pulled out her coin that she still held onto out of habit and her wand, tapping it to the metal of the galleon.
The man looked up at the noise of the approaching group of former Gryffindors that were coming to her rescue. Looking down to her, he knew she would be in safe hands.
“We’ll meet again, Miss Granger,” he murmured. “Until then.” The man disapperated, as Harry rounded the corner and headed straight over to the fallen Hermione as the world went black for the witch.
***
A cliffhanger?! AAHHH!!! LOL!
Time once again for the Review Sing-A-Long! The answer to the last one was "Crazy" performed by both Patsy Cline and Willie Nelson, who by the way also wrote the song. Cookies go out to monddame! If I missed you, I'm sorry.
Here's the next song! "Grab that review with both hands and make a stash/New car, caviar four star daydream/Think I'll buy me a football team" There's the song, but honestly if you don't see the writing on The Wall as far as what group or song this is, you need to study up on your music (CLUE!!!!) LOL! Gotta jet. Hope you all are having a great day.
PLEASE READ AND REVIEW!!!
***
Chapter Three
Hermione took a deep breath letting it out slowly as what the wizard said hit home. “How?”
“The plume is a powerful object, as you may have figured,” he explained to her. “Little is known about it and what is…” Severus paused a moment. “It’s the stuff that myths are made of.” He stood up and went over to her. Hermione watched in awe as the man leaned over so that his face was inches away from her own. “Imagine that there was a pen that if you wrote something, it became so.”
“I think I saw a movie once...” she said vaguely.
This earned her a growl from the former potions professor. “Miss Granger!”
“Sorry,” she said, blushing. “Please go on.”
“Whatever is written with this quill, whatever the writer puts to paper becomes so,” he told her. “Think about it.”
Worrying her lower lip, she murmured, “The book.”
“Exactly,” he stated. “His book ‘The Prince’.” Hermione’s eyes went to his black ones that were just inches from her own. “His advice to Lorenzo de’ Medici and other princes wasn’t just advice. When he wrote those words with the plume he himself created, it became so.”
“Oh Merlin,” she breathed. “Could they bring back Tom Riddle?”
“Worse.” He stood up straight. “They could very well bring back every single death eater ever to live as well as Voldemort himself. They could kill off every person to have wronged them…”
“Muggles, muggle born, and squibs?”
“Dead or slaves.”
Swallowing back the bile that had creeped up her throat she said the only thing that came to mind. “We’d be fucked.”
“That, Miss Granger, is putting it mildly.”
***
“We won!” Ron cheered as he entered Hermione’s cramped office later that day.
“That’s good,” she answered absently as she continued to read the book in front of her.
Letting out a growl of frustration, he took the book from her and repeated, “We won!”
“I said that was good, Ronald. I don’t know what else you want me to do,” she snapped, standing up on her chair and grabbing the tome back. “And if you noticed, I’m doing something new and exciting. You might recall what that is—it’s called work.” Hopping down from her chair, she stated, “I would have thought you would be off celebrating with Lavender.”
Ron said rather dramatically, “I wanted to share my news with one of my closest, dearest friends...”
“Harry is in a meeting, I take it?” she inquired, not bothering to look at him as she went on reading.
“Yeah,” he answered, his head drooping slightly in shame that she caught on so quickly. “And Lav is in the middle of a big consultation with new clients.”
“And so that left me,” she stated, looking over to see him nodding sheepishly. Surrendering herself to the inevitable, she set aside her book, which was yielding nothing anyway. “Come on with you. Let’s pick up a pint or two and you can tell me all about the quidditch game.”
A celebration that was just to be the two of them, minutes later ended up with Harry who arrived with a very pregnant Ginny and the rest of the Weasley clan as well as several others. Hermione glared over at Ron, who grinned wickedly at her.
“I had to say something that would get you here,” Ron told her. “Cheers!”
“Right,” she muttered flatly. “Cheers.” Hermione looked over to Tom, waving him over. “Fire whiskey.”
Half an hour later she was still sipping on her drink, as Sirius slipped up next to her. “You don’t look too thrilled to be here.”
“I have work,” Hermione replied. But instead of complaining as she really wanted to, she ended up asking, “Tell me something, what have you heard about Machiavelli’s Plume?”
Putting his arm around her shoulders he inquired, “Now what would you be wanting with that, lass?”
Looking to him wearily she sighed, “I should never have taken you to see ‘Pirates of the Caribbean’.”
“All three of them,” he said with a wink.
“Any of them. Tell me what you know about the Plume.”
“Very well,” he said, and told her pretty much what she knew already. That’s until he got to, “And from what my father told me way back when, the plume vanished in the early 1950’s.”
“Do you know what it looked like?”
“A plume is a plume.” He poured them both a refill from his bottle of fire whiskey. “They all look like feathers to me.”
“What are you two secreting about?” Bill asked, joining them on the other side of their table with his own drink.
“Our girl here was asking about Machiavelli’s Plume,” Sirius told him.
“Really?” Bill looked interested. “Why?”
“Work,” she told him. “How is Fleur?”
“She’s doing well so I’ve heard,” he answered, but went on with, “Why would you be finding out about a magical artifact that has been missing for several decades and has the potential of doing a great deal of damage if it were found?”
She grabbed Sirius’s wrist, looking at the snap of his jacket. “Is that the time? I had no idea it was so late!”
“It’s only six,” Bill told her even as she was grabbing up her purse.
“But I know that somewhere in the world it must be ten pm,” she told him. “And I am just not a night owl.”
“Right,” Bill muttered, as he watched her leaving, knowing the witch was up to something.
Hermione was still struggling to put on her jacket as she was walking down the street that she was barely paying attention to what was going on around her. Between being intoxicated and her jacket, she was well and truly occupied. So she didn’t know which hit first—the man tackling her out of the way of the smashing curse that sent chips of masonry flying or the curse that would have hit her if she weren’t being knocked down like an Aussie rugby player.
Hermione felt the man’s body pinning her solidly on the ground, as spells exploded overhead. She heard a harsh curse over the ringing in her ears. Her head, she thought vaguely. She had hit her head. Reality began to slip away even as whoever had attacked ran off. She felt as she was turned over and groaned as a handkerchief pressed to her bleeding forehead.
“Sorry about that,” the man whispered, tenderly stroking her face with a shaking hand. “When I saw what was about to happen, I panicked.”
Hermione looked up into the man’s face, too dazed to recognize her own face if she saw it at that point, stared up at him as if she would a stranger. Yet there was something there that she did find familiar. It was his eyes. Absently she pulled out her coin that she still held onto out of habit and her wand, tapping it to the metal of the galleon.
The man looked up at the noise of the approaching group of former Gryffindors that were coming to her rescue. Looking down to her, he knew she would be in safe hands.
“We’ll meet again, Miss Granger,” he murmured. “Until then.” The man disapperated, as Harry rounded the corner and headed straight over to the fallen Hermione as the world went black for the witch.
***
A cliffhanger?! AAHHH!!! LOL!
Time once again for the Review Sing-A-Long! The answer to the last one was "Crazy" performed by both Patsy Cline and Willie Nelson, who by the way also wrote the song. Cookies go out to monddame! If I missed you, I'm sorry.
Here's the next song! "Grab that review with both hands and make a stash/New car, caviar four star daydream/Think I'll buy me a football team" There's the song, but honestly if you don't see the writing on The Wall as far as what group or song this is, you need to study up on your music (CLUE!!!!) LOL! Gotta jet. Hope you all are having a great day.