100 Ways to Kill a Weasley
folder
Harry Potter › Het - Male/Female › Snape/Hermione
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
93
Views:
41,799
Reviews:
236
Recommended:
1
Currently Reading:
1
Category:
Harry Potter › Het - Male/Female › Snape/Hermione
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
93
Views:
41,799
Reviews:
236
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.
Carpenter and the Snake
A/N: My first actual published story on the 'Net. While I love SS/HG, I've never had a chance to write either that or any fanfic recently. Let me know what you think! I heart reviews!
~*~*~
“Men are so stupid!” Hermione sobbed into her pillow. It had been less than 3 hours than Ron had left the house, alive and alert. “What the hell possessed them to play with Muggle staplers?!”
He had left for the Auror department earlier than his fiancée had woken up, just like every morning. He Flooed into work and checked his work schedule, just like every morning. He stuck a stasis charm on his lunch and stuffed it in his locker, just like every morning. George stopped in fifteen minutes later… not like every morning.
“I’m building a wooden box to hold the newest items. They’re slightly volatile, and I need a few other people to help me out with these,” He explained quickly. “I need an Auror to add the final spells to hold it in place. They’re a bit.. well… not quite so legal for me.”
And so, being a good brother, he did. There was one minor distraction, however.
The staple guns.
Unfortunately, the staple war began. It was only a matter of minutes before the sharp metal objects were flying back and forth between the now smiling brothers. What was truly unfortunate was George’s inability to pay attention to where he was shooting the bloody things.
Hermione was woken up by a head in her fireplace, demanding her to identify a body. She slipped on a robe, and took the floo to the morgue in St. Mungos.
She knew something was wrong when they pulled her into a separate room, handng her tissues and closing the door.
They pulled the cart with Ron’s stapled body out, and she screamed, sobbing and collapsing to the ground. The Auror on duty took her back to her home, having to pry her off of him and calling for Harry and Ginny to comfort her.
“Gods be damned! A staple gun! He was stapled! The idiots!”
~*~*~*~
A week later, at the funeral, she was greeted with the Weasley family, minus George, who had locked himself in his room as a self-imposed punishment. Molly was clinging to Hermione, both of them sobbing over the casket. It took a bit of time before the crowds thinned out, and both women forced the media away from the scene. The last thing needed was a media frenzy over the fallen member of the Golden Trio.
As the people left and night was falling, Hermione felt herself being wrapped in a large black cloak. She sniffled, looking up at the living Potions Master. He was found alive after the fall of Voldemort, having become immune to the snake’s venom in a rather long, two year process. Severus Snape then escaped back to Hogwarts, where Minerva had claimed he could stay, as his name had been cleared via Harry Potter. He refused to go back to teaching at first, until he could no longer take the nagging. He went back to Defense, as Voldemort’s curse of the position was broken with the snake’s death.
Hermione blinked, then pulled his arms around her, a protection against the world. She curled herself into his arms, rubbing her eyes and sniffling. She stood, but she couldn’t seem to shake off the feeling of being right in his arms, more than Ron ever was…
“Come. I’ll take you home. You’re not in the right state to think.”
His voice was smooth and low, and the sound reverberated throughout her lower body. He Apparated back to her small house in magical London.
“Please, Professor, don’t leave me here,” Hermione spoke quietly.
“If you wish.”
He simply gathered her suitcase, adding clothing to the bag and shrinking it to fit in his pocket. He took her the only other place he could think of: back to his home.
Sitting her his bed, he began to set her bag out and began to put her clothing out for the next few days. This gave her a moment to look around the room. Unlike the rest of the house, his room was a haven. The walls were a midnight blue, almost black. His furniture was a cherry-colored wood, as was the bed on which she perched. The covers and blankets were not the black expected, but a warm brown, the color of milk chocolate. There were a few extra chairs in the same brown surrounding a lit fireplace.
He noticed her observations, but didn’t say anything until she looked back at him. He raised an eyebrow.
“I’ll be on the couch if you need me.”
He began to leave.
“No, please don’t leave me alone.”
She curled into a ball, and taking pity on the girl, he wrapped her into his arms.
“Then I shan’t. I won’t ever leave.”
~*~*~*~
On their three year anniversary, Severus looked at his wife and her bushy hair, his eyes drifting to the slight cabochon rise of their child within her. And to think, he had a staple gun and the stupidity of one Ron Weasley to thank for this.
~*~*~
“Men are so stupid!” Hermione sobbed into her pillow. It had been less than 3 hours than Ron had left the house, alive and alert. “What the hell possessed them to play with Muggle staplers?!”
He had left for the Auror department earlier than his fiancée had woken up, just like every morning. He Flooed into work and checked his work schedule, just like every morning. He stuck a stasis charm on his lunch and stuffed it in his locker, just like every morning. George stopped in fifteen minutes later… not like every morning.
“I’m building a wooden box to hold the newest items. They’re slightly volatile, and I need a few other people to help me out with these,” He explained quickly. “I need an Auror to add the final spells to hold it in place. They’re a bit.. well… not quite so legal for me.”
And so, being a good brother, he did. There was one minor distraction, however.
The staple guns.
Unfortunately, the staple war began. It was only a matter of minutes before the sharp metal objects were flying back and forth between the now smiling brothers. What was truly unfortunate was George’s inability to pay attention to where he was shooting the bloody things.
Hermione was woken up by a head in her fireplace, demanding her to identify a body. She slipped on a robe, and took the floo to the morgue in St. Mungos.
She knew something was wrong when they pulled her into a separate room, handng her tissues and closing the door.
They pulled the cart with Ron’s stapled body out, and she screamed, sobbing and collapsing to the ground. The Auror on duty took her back to her home, having to pry her off of him and calling for Harry and Ginny to comfort her.
“Gods be damned! A staple gun! He was stapled! The idiots!”
~*~*~*~
A week later, at the funeral, she was greeted with the Weasley family, minus George, who had locked himself in his room as a self-imposed punishment. Molly was clinging to Hermione, both of them sobbing over the casket. It took a bit of time before the crowds thinned out, and both women forced the media away from the scene. The last thing needed was a media frenzy over the fallen member of the Golden Trio.
As the people left and night was falling, Hermione felt herself being wrapped in a large black cloak. She sniffled, looking up at the living Potions Master. He was found alive after the fall of Voldemort, having become immune to the snake’s venom in a rather long, two year process. Severus Snape then escaped back to Hogwarts, where Minerva had claimed he could stay, as his name had been cleared via Harry Potter. He refused to go back to teaching at first, until he could no longer take the nagging. He went back to Defense, as Voldemort’s curse of the position was broken with the snake’s death.
Hermione blinked, then pulled his arms around her, a protection against the world. She curled herself into his arms, rubbing her eyes and sniffling. She stood, but she couldn’t seem to shake off the feeling of being right in his arms, more than Ron ever was…
“Come. I’ll take you home. You’re not in the right state to think.”
His voice was smooth and low, and the sound reverberated throughout her lower body. He Apparated back to her small house in magical London.
“Please, Professor, don’t leave me here,” Hermione spoke quietly.
“If you wish.”
He simply gathered her suitcase, adding clothing to the bag and shrinking it to fit in his pocket. He took her the only other place he could think of: back to his home.
Sitting her his bed, he began to set her bag out and began to put her clothing out for the next few days. This gave her a moment to look around the room. Unlike the rest of the house, his room was a haven. The walls were a midnight blue, almost black. His furniture was a cherry-colored wood, as was the bed on which she perched. The covers and blankets were not the black expected, but a warm brown, the color of milk chocolate. There were a few extra chairs in the same brown surrounding a lit fireplace.
He noticed her observations, but didn’t say anything until she looked back at him. He raised an eyebrow.
“I’ll be on the couch if you need me.”
He began to leave.
“No, please don’t leave me alone.”
She curled into a ball, and taking pity on the girl, he wrapped her into his arms.
“Then I shan’t. I won’t ever leave.”
~*~*~*~
On their three year anniversary, Severus looked at his wife and her bushy hair, his eyes drifting to the slight cabochon rise of their child within her. And to think, he had a staple gun and the stupidity of one Ron Weasley to thank for this.