A Rock and a Hard Place
folder
Harry Potter › Het - Male/Female
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
19
Views:
8,911
Reviews:
96
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Harry Potter › Het - Male/Female
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
19
Views:
8,911
Reviews:
96
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.
Transformation
Thanks, Trickie Woo—I had to edit chapter 3 to reflect that yes, Lupin got his potion. Can’t have homicide—yet.
The force of reader hostility and dislike toward this female character has been so strong, I’m still looking on the ground for my head. Hey, can’t a character have a bad hair day after being dumped by her husband cursed by Voldemort?
*
The trip into Hogsmeade was uneventful and blessedly rapid. As soon as they arrived, Snape took a firm grasp of the Muggle’s shoulder and steered her toward Gladrags Wizardwear.
Trudy heard a bell tinkle on their entry. From the depths of a long, narrow room lined with gowns of all descriptions, a plump witch in the late autumn of life made her way forward, taking pins out of her mouth. “Professor Snape! How very…good to see you,” she said in a flustered tone. Trudy had the distinct impression that “good” was not the very way the shop mistress felt at seeing Snape. “And your young, er, that is, er—“
“Ms. Mills is a visitor to Hogwarts. She lost her clothes in an unfortunate accident in the lake,” Snape lied in a pleasantly menacing tone. “She is in need of a completely new wardrobe for her visit. Perhaps you could assist her?”
“Ah, yes,” the shop mistress said hastily. “I am Madam Peregrina, and we have a good many gowns for, er, Hogwarts visitors..."
She led them to the back of the shop where the fitting area was. Snape settled himself in a large wine-colored velvet chair with a heavily carved wooden frame while Madam Peregrina looked Trudy over. Trudy stood on the fitting platform, her ridiculously long robes flowing over the step.
“She’ll need at least three good black student robes,” Snape said. Trudy nearly jumped. She had expected him to remain silent while the shop mistress made suggestions.
“Yes, yes,” Madam Peregrina said, waving her wand and producing the three he had described. “But she’ll need something else. Perhaps...?” She waved her wand and a copper-colored robe floated from a rack to hover in front of Trudy. “No, that won’t do. Best to take her across the street first, Professor Snape, to Madam Elisabetta’s House of Beauty.”
“Very well,” he snapped. Taking Trudy’s elbow, he escorted her back out of the shop and into the street. “Walk,” he said. “Quickly. We don’t have much time.”
Trudy walked at double time, trying to keep up with his long-legged strides without tripping over her robe.
As soon as they entered Madam Elisabetta’s, Trudy smelled lilacs and roses. The shop was high-ceilinged, done in soft pinks with flowers ranging from palest pink to glowing red magenta.
A woman of unearthly beauty floated over to them, a look of grave concern on her perfect features. “Professor Snape,” the woman said in a lilting voice so pleasant it sounded like music, “you must wait in the anteroom. My assistants and I must see to this woman at once.”
“I’m afraid I cannot wait in the anteroom,” Snape returned sourly. “This is Ms. Mills, a visitor to Hogwarts whom I am showing around Hogsmeade. She has a rare illness, and I must be on hand lest she take a turn for the worse. But I will be happy to mark parchments while you work. I must tell you, however, that time is very short for us. A quarter hour is all we can spare, if that.”
“Oh,” the beautiful creature said airily, “that will be plenty, Professor.”
She took Trudy’s arm. Trudy cast him one last, pleading look, which he ignored. He took a chair against the far wall, summoned parchments out of thin air, and began marking them. A quarter of an hour later, the hem of a black robe fluttered in the periphery of his vision. He looked up. Then he looked up again.
It was undoubtedly the Muggle. He could see the drop of honey in her eye. But everything else…everything else…
“You should go back across the street straightaway, Professor,” said Madam Elisabetta in her musical tones. “Your visitor doesn’t look well.”
Snape muttered an assent and reached in his robes for the necessary galleons.
Some moments later, they were back in Gladrags Wizardwear, where Madam Peregrina brought out five more gowns in quick succession. Snape found himself staring at the Muggle. What in God’s name had happened? She looked…the same, yet different. The mousy hair was auburn now, and plainly that was its natural shade. It was pulled loosely back from her face, long tendrils dangling at the sides. She still looked haggard, uncertain, and tired. But now Snape could see how long her lashes were, how beautifully proportioned her face was. He shook himself. She was a powerless Muggle, he reminded himself. Who cared for beauty? It was just a tool women used to have their way without doing any work.
“She’ll need shoes, too,” he snapped at Madam Peregrina. “And underthings as well.”
Trudy blushed. Soon she was standing atop the fitting platform, holding the hem of her robes high, a pair of magnificent high heels on her long...long...shapely...legs... Snape shook his head to clear it. The Muggle, he noticed, was gripping her robes with white knuckles. Uh-oh.
“She’ll take that pair,” he said, waving his wand and bringing several other pairs of shoes off the shelf. “And these. And...” He closed his eyes and prayed the Confundus charm would be enough to kill Madam Peregrina’s urge to gossip, “...these.” A tangle of thongs, garters, and stockings of all descriptions nipped out of the back room and landed on the counter.
“Why, certainly, P-professor,” Madam Peregrina stammered, going a bit red. “That will be 130 galleons.”
Trudy let out a squeak of protest. It was a larger sum than Snape had expected, but he was suddenly itching for to return to his rooms, to see the Muggle modeling those shoes, the stockings, the knickers... It was worth 130 galleons, and then some. As he laid the coins on the counter, he held his wand aloft and said, “Confundus.”
“So I’ll just wrap these up, then,” Madam Peregrina responded in a normal tone, her blush fading.
Moments later, he had the parcels in one hand and the Muggle’s arm in the other and was marching her toward Hogwarts.
“You’re g-going too fast!” she panted. “And you’re holding me too hard!”
Snape grit his teeth. He slowed his pace slightly and linked his arm through hers. That effectively kept her at his side.
“How are you doing?” he said in a low voice.
She threw a glance of desperation his way, then looked at the ground. “Fine.”
He snorted. “I think I told you before not to lie to me.”
“Th-then not fine. Horrible. I can’t wait. I can’t wait.” The last words ended raggedly.
Snape looked at her wide, anxious eyes, then cursed under his breath and turned on the spot, Apparating as far as he was able. When they came out at the gates to Hogwarts, his Muggle looked shaken, but essentially all right.
“No questions,” he warned.
*
More soon...
The force of reader hostility and dislike toward this female character has been so strong, I’m still looking on the ground for my head. Hey, can’t a character have a bad hair day after being dumped by her husband cursed by Voldemort?
*
The trip into Hogsmeade was uneventful and blessedly rapid. As soon as they arrived, Snape took a firm grasp of the Muggle’s shoulder and steered her toward Gladrags Wizardwear.
Trudy heard a bell tinkle on their entry. From the depths of a long, narrow room lined with gowns of all descriptions, a plump witch in the late autumn of life made her way forward, taking pins out of her mouth. “Professor Snape! How very…good to see you,” she said in a flustered tone. Trudy had the distinct impression that “good” was not the very way the shop mistress felt at seeing Snape. “And your young, er, that is, er—“
“Ms. Mills is a visitor to Hogwarts. She lost her clothes in an unfortunate accident in the lake,” Snape lied in a pleasantly menacing tone. “She is in need of a completely new wardrobe for her visit. Perhaps you could assist her?”
“Ah, yes,” the shop mistress said hastily. “I am Madam Peregrina, and we have a good many gowns for, er, Hogwarts visitors..."
She led them to the back of the shop where the fitting area was. Snape settled himself in a large wine-colored velvet chair with a heavily carved wooden frame while Madam Peregrina looked Trudy over. Trudy stood on the fitting platform, her ridiculously long robes flowing over the step.
“She’ll need at least three good black student robes,” Snape said. Trudy nearly jumped. She had expected him to remain silent while the shop mistress made suggestions.
“Yes, yes,” Madam Peregrina said, waving her wand and producing the three he had described. “But she’ll need something else. Perhaps...?” She waved her wand and a copper-colored robe floated from a rack to hover in front of Trudy. “No, that won’t do. Best to take her across the street first, Professor Snape, to Madam Elisabetta’s House of Beauty.”
“Very well,” he snapped. Taking Trudy’s elbow, he escorted her back out of the shop and into the street. “Walk,” he said. “Quickly. We don’t have much time.”
Trudy walked at double time, trying to keep up with his long-legged strides without tripping over her robe.
As soon as they entered Madam Elisabetta’s, Trudy smelled lilacs and roses. The shop was high-ceilinged, done in soft pinks with flowers ranging from palest pink to glowing red magenta.
A woman of unearthly beauty floated over to them, a look of grave concern on her perfect features. “Professor Snape,” the woman said in a lilting voice so pleasant it sounded like music, “you must wait in the anteroom. My assistants and I must see to this woman at once.”
“I’m afraid I cannot wait in the anteroom,” Snape returned sourly. “This is Ms. Mills, a visitor to Hogwarts whom I am showing around Hogsmeade. She has a rare illness, and I must be on hand lest she take a turn for the worse. But I will be happy to mark parchments while you work. I must tell you, however, that time is very short for us. A quarter hour is all we can spare, if that.”
“Oh,” the beautiful creature said airily, “that will be plenty, Professor.”
She took Trudy’s arm. Trudy cast him one last, pleading look, which he ignored. He took a chair against the far wall, summoned parchments out of thin air, and began marking them. A quarter of an hour later, the hem of a black robe fluttered in the periphery of his vision. He looked up. Then he looked up again.
It was undoubtedly the Muggle. He could see the drop of honey in her eye. But everything else…everything else…
“You should go back across the street straightaway, Professor,” said Madam Elisabetta in her musical tones. “Your visitor doesn’t look well.”
Snape muttered an assent and reached in his robes for the necessary galleons.
Some moments later, they were back in Gladrags Wizardwear, where Madam Peregrina brought out five more gowns in quick succession. Snape found himself staring at the Muggle. What in God’s name had happened? She looked…the same, yet different. The mousy hair was auburn now, and plainly that was its natural shade. It was pulled loosely back from her face, long tendrils dangling at the sides. She still looked haggard, uncertain, and tired. But now Snape could see how long her lashes were, how beautifully proportioned her face was. He shook himself. She was a powerless Muggle, he reminded himself. Who cared for beauty? It was just a tool women used to have their way without doing any work.
“She’ll need shoes, too,” he snapped at Madam Peregrina. “And underthings as well.”
Trudy blushed. Soon she was standing atop the fitting platform, holding the hem of her robes high, a pair of magnificent high heels on her long...long...shapely...legs... Snape shook his head to clear it. The Muggle, he noticed, was gripping her robes with white knuckles. Uh-oh.
“She’ll take that pair,” he said, waving his wand and bringing several other pairs of shoes off the shelf. “And these. And...” He closed his eyes and prayed the Confundus charm would be enough to kill Madam Peregrina’s urge to gossip, “...these.” A tangle of thongs, garters, and stockings of all descriptions nipped out of the back room and landed on the counter.
“Why, certainly, P-professor,” Madam Peregrina stammered, going a bit red. “That will be 130 galleons.”
Trudy let out a squeak of protest. It was a larger sum than Snape had expected, but he was suddenly itching for to return to his rooms, to see the Muggle modeling those shoes, the stockings, the knickers... It was worth 130 galleons, and then some. As he laid the coins on the counter, he held his wand aloft and said, “Confundus.”
“So I’ll just wrap these up, then,” Madam Peregrina responded in a normal tone, her blush fading.
Moments later, he had the parcels in one hand and the Muggle’s arm in the other and was marching her toward Hogwarts.
“You’re g-going too fast!” she panted. “And you’re holding me too hard!”
Snape grit his teeth. He slowed his pace slightly and linked his arm through hers. That effectively kept her at his side.
“How are you doing?” he said in a low voice.
She threw a glance of desperation his way, then looked at the ground. “Fine.”
He snorted. “I think I told you before not to lie to me.”
“Th-then not fine. Horrible. I can’t wait. I can’t wait.” The last words ended raggedly.
Snape looked at her wide, anxious eyes, then cursed under his breath and turned on the spot, Apparating as far as he was able. When they came out at the gates to Hogwarts, his Muggle looked shaken, but essentially all right.
“No questions,” he warned.
*
More soon...