Calling Dr. Granger
folder
Harry Potter › Het - Male/Female › Snape/Hermione
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
8
Views:
5,342
Reviews:
77
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Harry Potter › Het - Male/Female › Snape/Hermione
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
8
Views:
5,342
Reviews:
77
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.
Epilogue
Calling Dr. Granger
Epilogue
It all belongs to Rowling, except what you don’t recognize.
A/N: If you liked the unambiguously happy ending of Chapter Seven: this is your final warning- DO NOT READ THE EPILOGUE.
From the final chapter:
He crushed her in his arms and sighed in profound contentment. He wanted to say it had been the same for him, but he didn’t wish to trivialize the moment with ordinary words.
“Hmmm,” she purred and shifted a few strands of his long hair out of his eyes, so she could see his face better. “You know, I think I will accept this job offer.”
“I’m very glad to hear of it.” And he leaned down to kiss her more deeply than he had done before.
Snick
Noooo, cried out Snape as another world evaporated. We didn’t stop Draco in time. You were raped and killed, my darling. I’m sorry.
The world careened yet again and he fought, fought hard to hold onto her spirit and that place where he’d been with her. She was no more than a ghost there, well he’d join her, he would. They would be two spirits together.
Snick
“I’d say we’ve lost him. Really, I could feel it happening. I was hexing him and there he was in my mind for a moment and then he was gone,” said Shacklebolt, removing his glamour.
“Too bad, really,” said Tonks, allowing her appearance to change back. Tears began to fall down her cheeks.
Shacklebolt took her in his arms and kissed her passionately, “I’m sorry, dear heart. I know you were hoping to make him pay for what he’d done to your cousin and everyone else.”
Tonks wiped her tears away with the back of her sleeve, “Kingsley, I was hoping he’d give us something more, confess or beg for mercy, or something. So what do we do now?”
Shacklebolt took out a handkerchief and wiped the sweat from his face. “Well, we could dump him where he’d be found at St. Mungo’s.”
“And what if they get him well again?’ asked Tonks. “Then we’d have to start from scratch?”
“Quite,” Shacklebolt brought out a ceremonial knife of obsidian. “Time to make sure all their spirits rest in peace. Dry those tears, my love, the proof of his guilt was there on his arm and the only good Death Eater is a dead one.”
“Very well,” Tonks eyes turned black and her expression hardened as she placed her hand over Shacklebolt’s hand holding the knife. “Soonest begun, soonest done.”
“In honor of all those who gave their lives to the cause, we execute thee,” said Shacklebolt in a sonorous voice.
“For Sirius Black—“ said Tonks with a catch in her voice.
“For the Weasleys—“
“For Hermione Granger—“
“For James and Lily Potter—“
And their son, Harry”
Their eyes met and they brought the dagger down through Severus Snape’s heart. There was a sound of air escaping his vocal cords and little else as he died.
&&&
“Well, welcome to your final rotation, Dr. Granger…”
“Actually, I don’t have my Medi-license yet.”
“Just a formality, dear child. Well, we don’t have the excitement here that the second floor does, butcan can be just as satisfying. Did you enjoy your day off?”
“Not really, it was just to commemorate the dead.”
Dr. Falco hummed for approximately fifteen seconds, “Well, that’s good, it’s best that you deal with it, in your own time and in your own way.
“However, moving on, moving on. You have a very interesting assignment. He’s our most famous resident and I bel you you know him from being a student at Hogwart’s”
Hermione’s eye’s lit up, “Oh, I’m to be assigned Gilderoy Lockhart? Thank you. I will attempt to do my best to help him.”
Dr. Falco smiled, his yellow eyes glistening, “I’m sure you will, child. I’m sure you will.”
Snick
“You make a wonderful cup of coffee, Severus.” Hermione’s eye lingered on her lover’s long legs as he came round and sat next to her on the couch.
“It’s pretty easy to do so in Seattle.” He smiled. “Best coffee in the world here.” He lifted his cup in a salute to her.
Hermione sipped her coffee and read to herself a poem called “Tortures” by a Polish Muggle.
“Nothing has changed.
The body is susceptible to pain,
It must eat and breathe air and sleep,
It has thin skin and blood right underneath,
And adequate stock of teeth and nails,
Its bones are breakable, its joints are stretchable.
In tortures all this is taken into account.”
A/N: Big hugs to: DeblovesDragon, Bambu, LovethionBionBoy, LittleBird, MaryKay, Idamae, and Karen.
More hugs to Andrian, Rilla and my husband, who is always there and who suggested the poem, and a tip of the hat to Ambrose Bierce and his wonderful story, “An Occurrence at Owl Creek Bridge.” http://eserver.org/fiction/occurrence-at-owl-creek.html
People wishing to say WTF are more than welcome to e-mail me at Lorned@nyc.rr.com.
Tortures by Wistawa Szymborska
Nothing has changed.
The body is susceptible to pain,
It must eat and breathe air and sleep,
It has thin skin and blood right underneath,
And adequate stock of teeth and nails,
Its bones are breakable, its joints are stretchable.
In tortures all this is taken into account.
Nothing has changed.
The body shudders as it shuddered
before the founding of Rome and after,
in the twentieth century before and after Christ.
Tortures are as they were, it\'s just the earth that\'s grown smaller,
and whatever happens seems right on the other side of the wall.
Nothing has changed. It\'s just that there are more people,
besides the old offenses new ones have appeared,
real, imaginary, temporary, and none,
but the howl with which the body responds to them,
was, is and ever will be a howl of innocence
according to the time-honored scale and tonality.
Nothing has changed. Maybe just the manners, ceremonies, dances.
Yet the movement of the hands in protecting the head is the same.
The body writhes, jerks and tries to pull away,
its legs give out, it falls, the knees fly up,
it turns blue, swells, salivates and bleeds.
Nothing has changed. Except for the course of boundaries,
the line of forests, coasts, deserts and glaciers.
Amid these landscapes traipses the soul,
disappears, comes back, draws nearer, moves away,
alien to itself, elusive, at times certain, at others uncertain of its own existence,
while the body is and is and is
and has no place of its own.
Copyright © 1996 PolishWorld Inc.
http://www.polishworld.com/wsz/
Epilogue
It all belongs to Rowling, except what you don’t recognize.
A/N: If you liked the unambiguously happy ending of Chapter Seven: this is your final warning- DO NOT READ THE EPILOGUE.
From the final chapter:
He crushed her in his arms and sighed in profound contentment. He wanted to say it had been the same for him, but he didn’t wish to trivialize the moment with ordinary words.
“Hmmm,” she purred and shifted a few strands of his long hair out of his eyes, so she could see his face better. “You know, I think I will accept this job offer.”
“I’m very glad to hear of it.” And he leaned down to kiss her more deeply than he had done before.
Snick
Noooo, cried out Snape as another world evaporated. We didn’t stop Draco in time. You were raped and killed, my darling. I’m sorry.
The world careened yet again and he fought, fought hard to hold onto her spirit and that place where he’d been with her. She was no more than a ghost there, well he’d join her, he would. They would be two spirits together.
Snick
“I’d say we’ve lost him. Really, I could feel it happening. I was hexing him and there he was in my mind for a moment and then he was gone,” said Shacklebolt, removing his glamour.
“Too bad, really,” said Tonks, allowing her appearance to change back. Tears began to fall down her cheeks.
Shacklebolt took her in his arms and kissed her passionately, “I’m sorry, dear heart. I know you were hoping to make him pay for what he’d done to your cousin and everyone else.”
Tonks wiped her tears away with the back of her sleeve, “Kingsley, I was hoping he’d give us something more, confess or beg for mercy, or something. So what do we do now?”
Shacklebolt took out a handkerchief and wiped the sweat from his face. “Well, we could dump him where he’d be found at St. Mungo’s.”
“And what if they get him well again?’ asked Tonks. “Then we’d have to start from scratch?”
“Quite,” Shacklebolt brought out a ceremonial knife of obsidian. “Time to make sure all their spirits rest in peace. Dry those tears, my love, the proof of his guilt was there on his arm and the only good Death Eater is a dead one.”
“Very well,” Tonks eyes turned black and her expression hardened as she placed her hand over Shacklebolt’s hand holding the knife. “Soonest begun, soonest done.”
“In honor of all those who gave their lives to the cause, we execute thee,” said Shacklebolt in a sonorous voice.
“For Sirius Black—“ said Tonks with a catch in her voice.
“For the Weasleys—“
“For Hermione Granger—“
“For James and Lily Potter—“
And their son, Harry”
Their eyes met and they brought the dagger down through Severus Snape’s heart. There was a sound of air escaping his vocal cords and little else as he died.
&&&
“Well, welcome to your final rotation, Dr. Granger…”
“Actually, I don’t have my Medi-license yet.”
“Just a formality, dear child. Well, we don’t have the excitement here that the second floor does, butcan can be just as satisfying. Did you enjoy your day off?”
“Not really, it was just to commemorate the dead.”
Dr. Falco hummed for approximately fifteen seconds, “Well, that’s good, it’s best that you deal with it, in your own time and in your own way.
“However, moving on, moving on. You have a very interesting assignment. He’s our most famous resident and I bel you you know him from being a student at Hogwart’s”
Hermione’s eye’s lit up, “Oh, I’m to be assigned Gilderoy Lockhart? Thank you. I will attempt to do my best to help him.”
Dr. Falco smiled, his yellow eyes glistening, “I’m sure you will, child. I’m sure you will.”
Snick
“You make a wonderful cup of coffee, Severus.” Hermione’s eye lingered on her lover’s long legs as he came round and sat next to her on the couch.
“It’s pretty easy to do so in Seattle.” He smiled. “Best coffee in the world here.” He lifted his cup in a salute to her.
Hermione sipped her coffee and read to herself a poem called “Tortures” by a Polish Muggle.
“Nothing has changed.
The body is susceptible to pain,
It must eat and breathe air and sleep,
It has thin skin and blood right underneath,
And adequate stock of teeth and nails,
Its bones are breakable, its joints are stretchable.
In tortures all this is taken into account.”
A/N: Big hugs to: DeblovesDragon, Bambu, LovethionBionBoy, LittleBird, MaryKay, Idamae, and Karen.
More hugs to Andrian, Rilla and my husband, who is always there and who suggested the poem, and a tip of the hat to Ambrose Bierce and his wonderful story, “An Occurrence at Owl Creek Bridge.” http://eserver.org/fiction/occurrence-at-owl-creek.html
People wishing to say WTF are more than welcome to e-mail me at Lorned@nyc.rr.com.
Tortures by Wistawa Szymborska
Nothing has changed.
The body is susceptible to pain,
It must eat and breathe air and sleep,
It has thin skin and blood right underneath,
And adequate stock of teeth and nails,
Its bones are breakable, its joints are stretchable.
In tortures all this is taken into account.
Nothing has changed.
The body shudders as it shuddered
before the founding of Rome and after,
in the twentieth century before and after Christ.
Tortures are as they were, it\'s just the earth that\'s grown smaller,
and whatever happens seems right on the other side of the wall.
Nothing has changed. It\'s just that there are more people,
besides the old offenses new ones have appeared,
real, imaginary, temporary, and none,
but the howl with which the body responds to them,
was, is and ever will be a howl of innocence
according to the time-honored scale and tonality.
Nothing has changed. Maybe just the manners, ceremonies, dances.
Yet the movement of the hands in protecting the head is the same.
The body writhes, jerks and tries to pull away,
its legs give out, it falls, the knees fly up,
it turns blue, swells, salivates and bleeds.
Nothing has changed. Except for the course of boundaries,
the line of forests, coasts, deserts and glaciers.
Amid these landscapes traipses the soul,
disappears, comes back, draws nearer, moves away,
alien to itself, elusive, at times certain, at others uncertain of its own existence,
while the body is and is and is
and has no place of its own.
Copyright © 1996 PolishWorld Inc.
http://www.polishworld.com/wsz/