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:
10,665
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.
Chapter 33 - Looking for Hermy
A/N: Thanks again for reading and reviewing ;-) It\'s wonderful that you\'re enjoying my humble mumble! Blessings, Kait xxx
Chapter Thirty Three
Looking for Hermy
Dungeon Corridors, Hogwarts, August 2010
Pushing the trolley, which held the mop and bucket, Ron/Nathan stalked along the corridors, trying to ignore the ache in his empty belly. He’d been hard pushed to keep the Polyjuice potion down, and what made it worse was knowing he’d have to take another dose in just under fifty minutes. He belched, grimacing at the very thought.
Mrs. Norris sauntered toward him from the opposite end of the corridor, mrrowl-ing suspiciously.
“Piss off, pussy,” whispered Ron/Nathan. Mrs. Norris hissed, standing her ground. The ancient, bedraggled feline knew something was up, then. Wondering what it could be, he glared into her lamp-like eyes, refusing to get scared because of a mere cat. Even one who was stubbornly standing in his way, not allowing him to get past.
“I mean it, Mrs. Norris. Beat it, or – “
“Or what, Bulstrode?” sneered a voice he knew only too well. The foetid smell alone was enough to make him nearly spew up the scant contents of his stomach.
He turned around slowly and swallowed, nervously as Argus Filch eyed him mistrustfully.
“Mr. Filch,” he stammered, improvising wildly. “I can’t get past Mrs. Norris – and I need to clean a mess outside the Potions Lab.”
Filch sneered, and raised both wiry eyebrows. “It’s nice to see you actually taking the initiative for once, Bulstrode. I suppose Professor Snape’s managed to spill his delivery of Puffer-Fish eyes or something. Not like him at all, but the man is in love after all,” he went on, clearly irked by the possibility.
Ron/Nathan narrowed his eyes. “I suppose that’s why, Mr. Filch. I’d better get on and do it, if I could just get past Mrs. Norris…?”
Filch’s own eyes narrowed suspiciously. “Bulstrode, what on earth has happened to your voice? You sound…different.”
Shit. Oh, shit, shit and more shit! He hadn\'t thought to get a good listen to Nathan Bulstrode’s voice before he –
“Throat infection, Mr. Filch,” he extemporised, sweat beginning to trickle down his spine as he stood, transfixed by the caretaker’s malicious eyes. He feigned a cough, which made Mrs. Norris yowl and caused Filch to blink, backing away from him.
Argus Filch hated illness, and his only fear was catching a virus from the students and staff. “You’d better get yourself to Madame Pomfrey in your lunch hour, Bulstrode. Don’t want to be spreading your germs about, do you? Get back to work for now, though – I’ve got a nice little ‘job’ for you to attend to in the Wizards’ Toilets when you’ve finished down here.” He cackled nastily at the lavatorial pun, and, beckoning to his flea-ridden pet, he stormed off, leaving Ron/Nathan free to continue along towards the Potions Lab.
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Headmistress’s Office, Hogwarts, August 2010
Robin and Luna sat opposite one another at a table. Dumbledore turned to Severus and I and smiled beatifically.
“I’m sure the two of you have business to attend to…?”
I scowled, not wanting to leave my son now that we had been reunited. Severus communicated his own displeasure by his erecanceance, his lean muscles tensed, the arm around my waist suddenly like a band of steel, making me utter a squawk of discomfort. My lover murmured an apology and broke our contact, stalking closer to Dumbledore, who continued, unruffled:
“Dreamweaving is a delicate art. To discern reliably, Auror Lovegood and your son must have complete privacy. I myself must take a late breakfast, for I have been immeasurably busy until now, in a meeting with The Minister. Robin will be quite safe in Luna’s care, Hermione. Please do not worry.”
“Why has he got to do this now?” I protested.
Dumbledore twinkled annoyingly. “Last night, Auror Lovegood had the pleasure of stumbling into one of your son’s dreams as she walked the Dreamworld. She was not intending to do so, of course, but what she sensed from Robin’s dream was in some way worrying to her. She would like to have the opportunity to talk with him about it…with your permission as his parents, of course.”
Not wanting any further interference in my son’s life, I started to object, but Severus moved back beside me, and took my hand.
“Dearest,” he murmured, his soulful black eyes fixed on mine. “I think that, in the light of Robin’s nightmares, we might be well-advised to give our permission. Auror Lovegood is known for the accuracy of her discernment.”
I muttered something about the silliness of Divination and Severus surprised me by chuckling.
“Normally, I would agree with you there – but Miss Lovegood has proven herself time and time again. I am not a fan of Divination – no one could be in any possible doubt about my views on *that* subject.” He shrugged, and then took my breath away with one of his rare grins. “Although I am assured that even Sybil Trelawney has managed to give two authentic prophecies in her long term at Hogwarts!”
Luna’s dreamy voice floated over towards us. “That is correct, Professor Snape. However, Dreamweaving is not to be confused with prediction. Many of our dreams are of little prophetic value…a fact of which I am sure Hermione is aware.”
Thinking of the nightmares sent to me by Pansy, I bloody well hoped not.
“As for young Robin here, however…I entered a dream of his that was rather disturbing. It felt…important. I’d really like to talk to him about it, perhaps together we can discern a meaning. Please allow me to help him, Hermione.” Luna appealed to me, her slightly protruding light hazel eyes shining luminously.
I glanced over at my son, who was looking at Severus and I expectantly. Catching my eye, he whispered “May I, Mum? Please?”
I sighed, unable to resist the appealing in his eyes. I hoped I wasn’t going to be one of those mothers who gave in every time and spoiled their children.
“Oh, all right, Robin,” I conceded. “Loony – I mean Luna…don’t upset him, OK?” I blushed as the nickname I had used for her in school slipped out unwittingly.
“Hermione,” she chuckled richly. “I may look dotty, but I swear I would never hurt your son. Dreamweaving doesn’t hurt…and I am qualified after all.”
Severus took my arm, and with him I left Minerva’s Office, stopping only to give Robin a quick kiss and an “I’ll see you later.”
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Opportunity Squibs Office, Knockturn Alley, August 2010
“You’re so stupid, Millie,” Pansy lectured. “Giving someone dreams is piss-easy. Nothing to it, in fact. All you have to do is make sure the person is actually asleep, invoke Morpheus, and then it’s a simple wand movement and a couple of Latin words.”
Millicent Bulstrode scowled. The worst thing wasn’t being unable to cast the ‘fabrefacio alucinor’ spell the previous night, it was far worse knowing she could, in fact, do it, but, in choosing to plead ignorance, having to sit through a long oration from Pansy. Plus she knew it wouldn’t be long before Pansy went back on the deal and forcibly took Millicent’s wand. Pansy was getting impatient.
“I’ve mastered all the spells in ‘Darkeste Artes’, ‘A Million and One Painful Hexes’, ‘A Crucible of Curses’ and ‘Nyghtmare Magicke’. Ferret Senior had such a lot of delightful books in his Library, which my errant husband obviously never read, because he’s just too damn boring! Actually, I shouldn’t be mean to the late Lord Malfoy, calling him Ferret Senior and all that…at least he had some balls! And believe me, Millicent, because I’ve seen them! Well – to tell you the truth, he did pass on *those* particular attributes to his son, but none of the actual mental skills Lucius ever had. No, Millie, I reckon I did you a favour in snaffling darling Draco…even you’d have gone out of your tiny little mind! Can you imagine what it must have been like for me? No – I forgot, imagination is just one arena where you are sadly lacking.”
Pansy prattled on, oblivious to her partner’s offended glare.
akesakes you wonder whether there might be some dirty blood in your family, Mill. I mean, your mum can’t even talk without stammering, both your sisters died in horrible magical accidents when they were only eight and nine years old…and not to mention your little squibling…or should that be ‘late’ squibling? I can’t imagine how on earth nerdy Nathan managed to get himself Sorted into Slytherin!”
Millicent retreated into her own head and sang a little tune to herself, while Pansy just went on…and on…and on…
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The Potions Laboratory, Hogwarts, August 2010
Ron/Nathan found the Laboratory door and pushed it. It was bloody locked, of course! Cursing under his breath, he pushed the trolley into the shadows and leaned against a wall, unsure of what to do next.
After a few minutes had passed, Ron/Nathan was chilly and bored. He started to fiddle with the trolley, opening compartments by the handle end and discovering floor scourer, cream cleaner and…
Merlin’s beard! Ron/Nathan nearly whooped with excitement. There it was…he should have realised Nathan Bulstrode must be a Squib like Filch! The lack of wand on his person should have given him a clue…’Ron,’ he berated himself as he gazed in rapture at the magical Skeleton Key, ‘you are as dim as a lumos charm in a blizzard.’
Quickly, as he heard the sounds of approaching footsteps, he unlocked the Laboratory door and slipped inside.
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Dungeon Corridors, Hogwarts, August 2010
“Are you sure he’ll be all right?” I worried, as Severus and I walked towards his laboratory, my sparse belongings minimised and packed within my old satchel.
“Robin? I’m sure he’ll be fine. If Luna Lovegood thinks Robin’s dreams are important in some way, then it could be information that we’ll be needing. Besides,” he added, with a devilish grin, “If it all turns out to be rubbish, then our son will have all the more reason not to choose to take Divination classes for any longer than absolutely necessary.”
That made me laugh, and I slipped an arm around him as we turned a corner towards the Lab. Then I stopped, nearly pulling Severus over backwards.
“Shit – sorry darling, but I just remembered, I need to go and tell Lavender that she’s hereby relieved of duties.” I smiled mischievously. “I shouldn’t imagine they made it down for breakfast – her and Draco, I mean,” I added, in onseonse to Severus’ raised eyebrow.
He chuckled, and the sound rippled through me like a river of raw silk. “I’ll come with you,” he said, and started to turn back the way we came, but I stopped him.
“No, Severus. I’ll go alone. Then I’ll join you in the Lab. If you would be a darling and put my bag in your rooms, I’ll unpack it all when I get back. It won’t tak ten ten minutes, Sev. Just give me the password to get into Slytherin, will you?”
Severus pulled me towards him and pressed his lips on mine in a searing kiss. My arms wound around his neck as his tongue probed the inside of my mouth, and I returned the kiss with an almost ferocious passion. It had been hours since I’d been able to freely express myself with him, and I moaned with impatience as I ran my hands over his shoulders and down my back, raking the cloth of his robes with my fingernails. I could feel his cock begin to get hard as he ground his hips against mine, his stiffening bulge pressing into the softness of my abdomen. Oh, if only he were naked right now, I would –
And then I recalled the caretaker’s cart I’d noticed, parked against the wall, and I broke off the embrace, blushing. I could do without the idea of Filch standing in the shadows somewhere, perving at us. ‘Nasty old rank-smelling git,’ I thought. I’ve never liked Filch.
I pulled away from Severus’ arms, and, in response to his questioning eyebrow, whispered: “Hold on to that thought,” before giving him a rather more chaste kiss as a farewell.
Severus pulled me close again, whispering silkily: \"I will hold *you* to that thought, Hermione. The password you require is \'Salazar\'s Scrotum\'.\" I roared with laughter, and he claimed my lips again before adding, \"Now, get the hell out of here, woman, before I drag you through this door by your wand arm!\"
I snorted with amusement, and turned to go. The velvet voice of Severus Snape, intoning the words “Alohamora” floated back to me as I walked towards the Slytherin quarters.
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‘fabrefacio alucinor’ (fabrefacio – to skilfully fashion, alucinor – a dream or hallucination – Latin)
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Chapter Thirty Three
Looking for Hermy
Dungeon Corridors, Hogwarts, August 2010
Pushing the trolley, which held the mop and bucket, Ron/Nathan stalked along the corridors, trying to ignore the ache in his empty belly. He’d been hard pushed to keep the Polyjuice potion down, and what made it worse was knowing he’d have to take another dose in just under fifty minutes. He belched, grimacing at the very thought.
Mrs. Norris sauntered toward him from the opposite end of the corridor, mrrowl-ing suspiciously.
“Piss off, pussy,” whispered Ron/Nathan. Mrs. Norris hissed, standing her ground. The ancient, bedraggled feline knew something was up, then. Wondering what it could be, he glared into her lamp-like eyes, refusing to get scared because of a mere cat. Even one who was stubbornly standing in his way, not allowing him to get past.
“I mean it, Mrs. Norris. Beat it, or – “
“Or what, Bulstrode?” sneered a voice he knew only too well. The foetid smell alone was enough to make him nearly spew up the scant contents of his stomach.
He turned around slowly and swallowed, nervously as Argus Filch eyed him mistrustfully.
“Mr. Filch,” he stammered, improvising wildly. “I can’t get past Mrs. Norris – and I need to clean a mess outside the Potions Lab.”
Filch sneered, and raised both wiry eyebrows. “It’s nice to see you actually taking the initiative for once, Bulstrode. I suppose Professor Snape’s managed to spill his delivery of Puffer-Fish eyes or something. Not like him at all, but the man is in love after all,” he went on, clearly irked by the possibility.
Ron/Nathan narrowed his eyes. “I suppose that’s why, Mr. Filch. I’d better get on and do it, if I could just get past Mrs. Norris…?”
Filch’s own eyes narrowed suspiciously. “Bulstrode, what on earth has happened to your voice? You sound…different.”
Shit. Oh, shit, shit and more shit! He hadn\'t thought to get a good listen to Nathan Bulstrode’s voice before he –
“Throat infection, Mr. Filch,” he extemporised, sweat beginning to trickle down his spine as he stood, transfixed by the caretaker’s malicious eyes. He feigned a cough, which made Mrs. Norris yowl and caused Filch to blink, backing away from him.
Argus Filch hated illness, and his only fear was catching a virus from the students and staff. “You’d better get yourself to Madame Pomfrey in your lunch hour, Bulstrode. Don’t want to be spreading your germs about, do you? Get back to work for now, though – I’ve got a nice little ‘job’ for you to attend to in the Wizards’ Toilets when you’ve finished down here.” He cackled nastily at the lavatorial pun, and, beckoning to his flea-ridden pet, he stormed off, leaving Ron/Nathan free to continue along towards the Potions Lab.
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Headmistress’s Office, Hogwarts, August 2010
Robin and Luna sat opposite one another at a table. Dumbledore turned to Severus and I and smiled beatifically.
“I’m sure the two of you have business to attend to…?”
I scowled, not wanting to leave my son now that we had been reunited. Severus communicated his own displeasure by his erecanceance, his lean muscles tensed, the arm around my waist suddenly like a band of steel, making me utter a squawk of discomfort. My lover murmured an apology and broke our contact, stalking closer to Dumbledore, who continued, unruffled:
“Dreamweaving is a delicate art. To discern reliably, Auror Lovegood and your son must have complete privacy. I myself must take a late breakfast, for I have been immeasurably busy until now, in a meeting with The Minister. Robin will be quite safe in Luna’s care, Hermione. Please do not worry.”
“Why has he got to do this now?” I protested.
Dumbledore twinkled annoyingly. “Last night, Auror Lovegood had the pleasure of stumbling into one of your son’s dreams as she walked the Dreamworld. She was not intending to do so, of course, but what she sensed from Robin’s dream was in some way worrying to her. She would like to have the opportunity to talk with him about it…with your permission as his parents, of course.”
Not wanting any further interference in my son’s life, I started to object, but Severus moved back beside me, and took my hand.
“Dearest,” he murmured, his soulful black eyes fixed on mine. “I think that, in the light of Robin’s nightmares, we might be well-advised to give our permission. Auror Lovegood is known for the accuracy of her discernment.”
I muttered something about the silliness of Divination and Severus surprised me by chuckling.
“Normally, I would agree with you there – but Miss Lovegood has proven herself time and time again. I am not a fan of Divination – no one could be in any possible doubt about my views on *that* subject.” He shrugged, and then took my breath away with one of his rare grins. “Although I am assured that even Sybil Trelawney has managed to give two authentic prophecies in her long term at Hogwarts!”
Luna’s dreamy voice floated over towards us. “That is correct, Professor Snape. However, Dreamweaving is not to be confused with prediction. Many of our dreams are of little prophetic value…a fact of which I am sure Hermione is aware.”
Thinking of the nightmares sent to me by Pansy, I bloody well hoped not.
“As for young Robin here, however…I entered a dream of his that was rather disturbing. It felt…important. I’d really like to talk to him about it, perhaps together we can discern a meaning. Please allow me to help him, Hermione.” Luna appealed to me, her slightly protruding light hazel eyes shining luminously.
I glanced over at my son, who was looking at Severus and I expectantly. Catching my eye, he whispered “May I, Mum? Please?”
I sighed, unable to resist the appealing in his eyes. I hoped I wasn’t going to be one of those mothers who gave in every time and spoiled their children.
“Oh, all right, Robin,” I conceded. “Loony – I mean Luna…don’t upset him, OK?” I blushed as the nickname I had used for her in school slipped out unwittingly.
“Hermione,” she chuckled richly. “I may look dotty, but I swear I would never hurt your son. Dreamweaving doesn’t hurt…and I am qualified after all.”
Severus took my arm, and with him I left Minerva’s Office, stopping only to give Robin a quick kiss and an “I’ll see you later.”
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Opportunity Squibs Office, Knockturn Alley, August 2010
“You’re so stupid, Millie,” Pansy lectured. “Giving someone dreams is piss-easy. Nothing to it, in fact. All you have to do is make sure the person is actually asleep, invoke Morpheus, and then it’s a simple wand movement and a couple of Latin words.”
Millicent Bulstrode scowled. The worst thing wasn’t being unable to cast the ‘fabrefacio alucinor’ spell the previous night, it was far worse knowing she could, in fact, do it, but, in choosing to plead ignorance, having to sit through a long oration from Pansy. Plus she knew it wouldn’t be long before Pansy went back on the deal and forcibly took Millicent’s wand. Pansy was getting impatient.
“I’ve mastered all the spells in ‘Darkeste Artes’, ‘A Million and One Painful Hexes’, ‘A Crucible of Curses’ and ‘Nyghtmare Magicke’. Ferret Senior had such a lot of delightful books in his Library, which my errant husband obviously never read, because he’s just too damn boring! Actually, I shouldn’t be mean to the late Lord Malfoy, calling him Ferret Senior and all that…at least he had some balls! And believe me, Millicent, because I’ve seen them! Well – to tell you the truth, he did pass on *those* particular attributes to his son, but none of the actual mental skills Lucius ever had. No, Millie, I reckon I did you a favour in snaffling darling Draco…even you’d have gone out of your tiny little mind! Can you imagine what it must have been like for me? No – I forgot, imagination is just one arena where you are sadly lacking.”
Pansy prattled on, oblivious to her partner’s offended glare.
akesakes you wonder whether there might be some dirty blood in your family, Mill. I mean, your mum can’t even talk without stammering, both your sisters died in horrible magical accidents when they were only eight and nine years old…and not to mention your little squibling…or should that be ‘late’ squibling? I can’t imagine how on earth nerdy Nathan managed to get himself Sorted into Slytherin!”
Millicent retreated into her own head and sang a little tune to herself, while Pansy just went on…and on…and on…
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The Potions Laboratory, Hogwarts, August 2010
Ron/Nathan found the Laboratory door and pushed it. It was bloody locked, of course! Cursing under his breath, he pushed the trolley into the shadows and leaned against a wall, unsure of what to do next.
After a few minutes had passed, Ron/Nathan was chilly and bored. He started to fiddle with the trolley, opening compartments by the handle end and discovering floor scourer, cream cleaner and…
Merlin’s beard! Ron/Nathan nearly whooped with excitement. There it was…he should have realised Nathan Bulstrode must be a Squib like Filch! The lack of wand on his person should have given him a clue…’Ron,’ he berated himself as he gazed in rapture at the magical Skeleton Key, ‘you are as dim as a lumos charm in a blizzard.’
Quickly, as he heard the sounds of approaching footsteps, he unlocked the Laboratory door and slipped inside.
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Dungeon Corridors, Hogwarts, August 2010
“Are you sure he’ll be all right?” I worried, as Severus and I walked towards his laboratory, my sparse belongings minimised and packed within my old satchel.
“Robin? I’m sure he’ll be fine. If Luna Lovegood thinks Robin’s dreams are important in some way, then it could be information that we’ll be needing. Besides,” he added, with a devilish grin, “If it all turns out to be rubbish, then our son will have all the more reason not to choose to take Divination classes for any longer than absolutely necessary.”
That made me laugh, and I slipped an arm around him as we turned a corner towards the Lab. Then I stopped, nearly pulling Severus over backwards.
“Shit – sorry darling, but I just remembered, I need to go and tell Lavender that she’s hereby relieved of duties.” I smiled mischievously. “I shouldn’t imagine they made it down for breakfast – her and Draco, I mean,” I added, in onseonse to Severus’ raised eyebrow.
He chuckled, and the sound rippled through me like a river of raw silk. “I’ll come with you,” he said, and started to turn back the way we came, but I stopped him.
“No, Severus. I’ll go alone. Then I’ll join you in the Lab. If you would be a darling and put my bag in your rooms, I’ll unpack it all when I get back. It won’t tak ten ten minutes, Sev. Just give me the password to get into Slytherin, will you?”
Severus pulled me towards him and pressed his lips on mine in a searing kiss. My arms wound around his neck as his tongue probed the inside of my mouth, and I returned the kiss with an almost ferocious passion. It had been hours since I’d been able to freely express myself with him, and I moaned with impatience as I ran my hands over his shoulders and down my back, raking the cloth of his robes with my fingernails. I could feel his cock begin to get hard as he ground his hips against mine, his stiffening bulge pressing into the softness of my abdomen. Oh, if only he were naked right now, I would –
And then I recalled the caretaker’s cart I’d noticed, parked against the wall, and I broke off the embrace, blushing. I could do without the idea of Filch standing in the shadows somewhere, perving at us. ‘Nasty old rank-smelling git,’ I thought. I’ve never liked Filch.
I pulled away from Severus’ arms, and, in response to his questioning eyebrow, whispered: “Hold on to that thought,” before giving him a rather more chaste kiss as a farewell.
Severus pulled me close again, whispering silkily: \"I will hold *you* to that thought, Hermione. The password you require is \'Salazar\'s Scrotum\'.\" I roared with laughter, and he claimed my lips again before adding, \"Now, get the hell out of here, woman, before I drag you through this door by your wand arm!\"
I snorted with amusement, and turned to go. The velvet voice of Severus Snape, intoning the words “Alohamora” floated back to me as I walked towards the Slytherin quarters.
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‘fabrefacio alucinor’ (fabrefacio – to skilfully fashion, alucinor – a dream or hallucination – Latin)
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