Madame Curie, Potion's Mistress

Being a spy for twenty years has its perks!




Hermione sank back gratefully into the bubble-filled bathtub. The owner of the establishment had really outdone himself, in her opinion. The lovely scented bath beads did wonders for her aching back and tension induced headache. Now that she was settled in, the ambience of the place was starting to unwind her troubled mind. There was no way in hell anyone would find her here. The old world charm of Bucharest was exactly what her hurting soul needed to regenerate her flagging spirits. There were also some contacts to be made within the city to expand certain aspects of her enterprise. Staying in the city, for awhile at least, could prove very lucrative. At the end of the year she planned to donate three quarters of her liquid assets to various charities back home. It was the least she could do as a silent apology to her friends back home, and society in general.

Closing her eyes blissfully, Hermione let her fingers slide down her taut belly to the apex between her thighs. It was a shame she wouldn’t be able to write to Severus anymore. It had been rather cruel to lead him on with their emails, but he was the only person she knew who even remotely was able to keep up with her intellectually. It was such a turn-on to think of their heated online debates and expostulation of their vociferous opinions that were bantered back and forth through cyber space.

Only a few minutes of rubbing and tweaking brought her to a quick, hard climax as she moaned his name under her breath. Sighing with both exhaustion and regret, she slipped out of the bath, readied for bed, and sat at her laptop to catch up with her backlog of email and orders she’d neglected for the past several days.

--

Snape sat across the street from the address he had been given, frowning inwardly. This Madame Curie surely wouldn’t have ditched one hovel for another? Was she some old eccentric that had been toying with him? Her flight from France to this backwater rubbish heap hardly seemed like the place a lady of distinguished taste in potions ingredients would go to do business.

There were very few people scurrying about this time of day. The superstitious people of Bucharest liked to be indoors after dark. It was a smart move, considering there was a much higher werewolf and vampire population in Romania, than anywhere else in the world. Certain precautions were ingrained in their nature. Not wishing to encounter any local after-dark creepy crawlies himself, Severus pushed off the filthy wall he’d been leaning against and opened the door to the- whatever it was- across the street, and went in.

A single lantern was suspended from the ceiling, casting gargantuan shadows that played out harmlessly on the ceiling, sloping down the wall to the faded flooring under his dragon-hide booted feet.

A rusty bell sat on the counter and he rang it several times before a voice shouted from the back room in Romanian, “We’re full! Go away!”

Snape continued to ring the bell until a half-dressed man yanked open the door and shouted, “What the fuck do you want? We’re full!”

Being fluent in Romanian, Severus put on his best glare and pulled himself up to his full height.

“I am looking for someone. I was told she is residing at this- hotel.” He sneered; using the word contemptuously like it was shit on his tongue.

“I do not give away information about my customers. We are full, no occupancy. See yourself out. Good night.”

The door to the other room slammed shut and locked, a woman’s voice rising over the curses and mutterings of the shopkeeper. He stood there for a few minutes and sneered at the dimly lit, grimy Internet Café. It was disgusting.

Snape easily leaped over the counter and quietly nosed about for keys to any more rooms in case the rude Romanian had been lying about being full. This didn’t seem like the type of place that would attract many customers, but not knowing much about the establishment caused Severus to keep such final conclusions to himself. There was nothing of value and no keys to be seen behind the counter.

He sighed with disgust when the unmistakable sound of slapping bodies sounded from behind the closed door, the woman’s voice rising over the piggish grunts of the shopkeeper.

The sun had gone down, a fine mist having risen off the darkened streets that stood abandoned. Not so much as a whisper of a ghost or footstep echoed off the cobblestone street as he quickly disillusioned himself and made his way down a few streets to the next only available establishment with rooms for rent. After haggling with the buxom brunette behind the counter that eyed him up and down in a not-so-subtle manner, he finally secured a room and set about planning his next strategy.

The morning dawned bright and early, the few pedestrians passing by the Internet Café, never seeing the man in black pressed into the shadows of the building opposite, a strong Notice-Me-Not spell causing most eyes to slide right past him. For three long days Severus kept a hawkish watch over the entrance and windows to the building Madame Curie was purported to be in. Not once did anyone come out of the building that even remotely resembled the woman he imagined her to be. Perhaps the owner of the French establishment had been lying to him? An ugly curl appeared on the potions master’s face at the thought of wringing the man’s scrawny neck with his bare hands for lying to him, right after he tore his mind to shreds of insanity for the trouble he’d caused by sending him on this wild goose chase.

Just as he was about to push off from the side of the building to leave, the door to the Café opened, and out walked one of the most exquisite creatures he had ever seen. This woman was a swan amongst the peasant filth that polluted these backward streets. It was as if an angel had descended and suddenly chose to show herself for him for some unknown prophetic purpose. For a moment, his breath caught in his throat and he was unable to breath. Her beauty took his breath away, and there was no doubt in his mind that this stunning beauty was his Madame Curie.

Snape shook himself out of his momentary stupor and cast a Cushioning Charm on his footsteps as he followed her down the street at a safe distance, intent on seeing where she was headed.

--

Hermione woke up the fourth day of her stay feeling refreshed and alive. There was no trace of worry or guilt on her mind as she took off to establish some new clientele for her business. A dealer in rare herbs and potions ingredients was purported to live just a short jaunt away, according to one of what she referred to as her talent scouts. She had three such folk around the globe scavenging for new and unique people and resources that could enhance the profitability and cutting edge of her business. The list of people she needed to check out personally had been growing. As of late, she’d grown lazy, and had wallowed in self pity.

Now, being in this old world city lifted her spirits. Having cleansed herself and cast her in a disguise she was quite proud of, Hermione was headed out to take on the world and do business. First, she needed to meet up with the interpreter. No matter how many translation charms she got a hold of or spells she cast, the thick dialect of the Romanians seemed to elude her. Hermione really kicked herself for not learning the basics.

About halfway to her meeting point with the translator, the hairs on the nape of her neck stood on end. Not wishing to draw any attention to herself, Hermione faked a small stumble and stopped to take off her shoe, as if searching for an errant pebble. Very cautiously she chanced a glance backwards. There was no one behind her except for an old woman beating a rug outside the door to her little shop.

Hermione let out a breath of relief and chalked the experience up to the war and all the time she’d been on the run. It was sheer force of habit, and her nerves were acting up. Maybe she should have taken that Calming Draught after all? Well, no matter, it was too late for that now.

The rest of her walk to meet the translator and stop into the next potential client’s establishment was uneventful. Having successfully negotiated a tentative contract after laying out her wants and needs, she paid the woman she had employed to speak for her and headed back to Internet Café.

The shadows were growing long on the walls of the stone buildings she passed, and she quickened her pace just a bit. There was still a good bit to walk before she reached her destination, and although Hermione was far from superstitious, she didn’t want to deal with the perils of being alone on the streets of this mysterious city after dark.

The sun seemed to mock her in its race to set as the darkness enveloped her quite suddenly. Only a few hundred yards separated her from the unforgiving coldness that was creeping up her neck once again. A rustle of fabric from across the street caught her ear and she shivered inwardly. Blaming it on her imagination again, she broke into a jog, her eyes trained on the door to the Café.

The scrape of a boot caused her to shriek as she drew her wand and broke into a dead run. Metal and leather soled boots pounded on the street behind her in obvious pursuit as she flung herself the last few feet to the door. To her horror, a large hand with pale, slender fingers gripped her arm almost painfully and pulled her back from the door and around to the side of the building. Before she could scream, another hand yanked her wand from her grasp and covered her mouth tightly.

Hermione kicked and flailed fruitlessly against the large, hardened body of her captor. A low chuckle sent rivers of dread running up and down her spine.

“My my, quite the spitfire, aren’t we?”

She knew that laugh. There was only one person in the entire world that possessed that silky smooth baritone. The one person in the entire world she wished to escape from had somehow followed and found her.

Slowly releasing his grasp on her mouth, Hermione was spun around by the man she feared most in this world at that very moment. She peered through the darkness, up into coal black eyes that blended seamlessly with the night, and shuddered involuntarily. Her legs seemed to go weak, and he had to hold her up just a bit to keep her steady.

“Excuse me for frightening you, for it was not my intention. Please allow me to introduce myself. My name is Severus Snape. We have been conversing with one another for quite some time, and it was most urgent that I speak with you. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Madame Curie.”

Forgetting she still was under the influence of the glamour, Hermione did the only thing her body allowed her to do after his introduction and sweeping bow. She vomited on his dragon hide boots and fainted dead away into his arms.