A Maid in the Devil's Manor

Disclaimer: All recognizable characters belong to JKR. All situations are mine. No $$$ is being made from this fanfic.
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Chapter 8 ~ Rita Skeeter Gets Her Story

At precisely six o’clock Severus apparated to Hermione’s flat. He used a silencing charm to quell the accompanying thunder of his arrival. He looked around the flat and didn’t see Hermione. The witch was running late and was in the shower.

“Miss Granger?” Severus called. There was no answer.

He walked down the hall.

“Miss Granger? Are you here?” he asked, turning into her bedroom. He looked around. Hermione’s bedroom looked like a bomb had hit it. Clothing was flung everywhere, there were several plates and coffee cups piled on her dresser, a number of books on the floor and her bed was unmade. Severus shook his head. He would have never suspected that she would fling her things about in this haphazard manner. His eyes fell on the bed. A pair of green lacy panties lay there. They were quite pretty. And quite sheer. For a moment he thought about picking them up and inspecting them closer, but decided that wouldn’t be a good idea. Suddenly the loo door open and Hermione walked out, holding a towel against her naked body. Her breasts and thighs were covered, but parts of her were sticking out. Severus froze, his mouth falling open at the sight of her.

Hermione looked at him and let out a startled shriek.

“Professor Snape! What are you doing in my bedroom?” she gasped, trying to cover herself better, and only succeeding in making more flesh show. She backed up against the wall.

Severus managed to close his mouth.

“I…I was looking for you. You didn’t answer me when I called you. I thought you weren’t here,” Severus replied, his black eyes trying to focus on her face.

Hermione scowled at him.

“Obviously, I AM here, Professor. Could you please leave my room so I can get dressed?” she demanded.

Severus backed out of the room.


“I am so sorry, Miss Granger,” he said as he exited.

He walked back down the hall and into the living room. He sat on the sofa and rubbed his hand over his brow. That had been awkward. But Hermione certainly was a curvaceous young woman, from what he saw of her.

After a moment or two, Hermione appeared, her hair brushed and shining and dressed in a simple green robe. She looked lovely, in an understated kind of way. Hermione looked at the Potions Master, her amber eyes a bit narrowed.

“You had no right to enter my bedroom,” she said flatly.

Severus knew she was right, but didn’t like her tone.

“It was not my intention to intrude on that disaster area you call a bedroom, but the state of it led me to wonder if something untoward happened to you. It looked like a bomb went off in there. You could have been injured, and trapped under all the rubble.” he replied snarkily.

Hermione drew her brows together.

“Well, from here on out, please limit your explorations of my flat to the living room and kitchen,” she said, adjusting her robes a bit self-consciously. The wizard had practically seen her naked. The idea of the Potions Master seeing her like that gave her the willies.

“After seeing the state of your bedroom, Miss Granger, I have no desire to explore the rest of your flat, believe me,” Severus replied, “now, because of your tardiness, we are late for supper and I actually had to make reservations. So let us go.”

He held out his arm, scowling at Hermione. He didn’t want to miss Rita Skeeter. Hermione hesitated, then took his arm, deciding not to continue exchanging words with him. Severus covered her arm with his other hand and they disapparated.

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Rita Skeeter and Bozo sat in a booth at Crowdag’s, watching the door intently. Professor Snape and Miss Granger were supposed to have been here at six. But they could have been held up. Rita nursed a firewhiskey, and drummed her red nails on the table restlessly.

“Where is the little chit?” she muttered.

Bozo shrugged. “She’s probably running late.”

Rita leaned toward her photographer, a nasty look on her face.

“Even if she doesn’t show up, I’m going to write this story, Bozo. I’ll write I received an anonymous tip that there is a possible leak in the Ministry that may be located in the Spells department. And that my sources say an employee in that department is associating with a former deatheater, who is still under suspicion. That isn’t slander, is it, Bozo? I’m not exactly naming names.”

The photographer shook his head.

“No, of course it isn’t slander,” Rita said, sipping her firewhiskey and grimacing a little. “But the Ministry will do an internal investigation, and if Miss Granger is associating with Professor Snape, that little bit of doubt as to her loyalties will be all they need to boot her little ass right out the front door.”

Rita smiled delightedly at the outrageous thought of Hermione, collapsed and bawling on her knees in front of the Ministry building, preferably in mud and the pouring rain.

Just at that moment, the restaurant door opened and in walked Hermione and Severus. Rita could have creamed herself.

“There they are, Bozo!” she hissed at the photographer, “Get your camera ready!”

Rita was crouched in a predatory position. Then she caught herself.

“No, I have to wait until they look cozy. Drink some wine, eat a meal. Then I’ll hit them with an impromptu interview about why they are out together. Are they an item? Are they intimate? Or is it some other kind of arrangement? Professor Snape is quite well off, yes. And Miss Granger doesn’t have a pot to brew in. Has she set her sights on the Potions Master’s wealth…hmm? Are they doing the horizontal waltz? And is there a little pillow talk going on about the work she does for the Ministry? Nothing bad, just the names of the spells she’s created and what they do. Little things like that. Yes,” the reporter mused.

She watched as the couple took their seats, and Professor Snape plucked the menu out of Hermione’s hand. Rita was making a running commentary, her quick quotes quill jotting down her thoughts.

“Ooh, she isn’t allow to place her own order! How controlling is that, Bozo? Looks like this could be some kind of Master/Slave arrangement…yes. He could order her to tell him Ministry secrets, couldn’t he, Bozo? Yes…that’s a possibility.”

After a while, the waiter returned with a carafe of wine. Rita continued to observe the couple. Severus pulled a package out of his robes pocket. It was rather flat. The reporter’s eyes narrowed as she peered to see what the Potions Master was unwrapping.

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Hermione watched as Professor Snape pulled a small package out of his robes.

“Miss Granger, since we will need to be in contact over the coming months, I have procured these…”

He unwrapped the package and revealed two small mirrors.

“…two-way mirrors. Owling each other is too slow. This way we can speak to each other directly.”

He handed Hermione one of the mirrors.

“Carry this with you. If you need to speak to me for any reason, simply invoke it by saying my name. I will receive your message. These work like the equivalent of muggle cell phones, but they are only geared for conversations between us,” he said, looking at her for reaction.

Hermione turned the small mirror over in her hand. She looked at it.

“Professor Snape,” she said to the mirror. His face appeared in the mirror.

“I see how this could be convenient,” Hermione said.

Suddenly there was a bright flash. Hermione almost dropped the mirror in surprise as she looked up and saw a grinning Bozo lowering his camera.

Severus rose out of his seat.

“What is the meaning of this?” he said, taking a grab at Bozo, who, used to being attacked, deftly scuttled out of reach. Rita Skeeter materialized seemingly out of nowhere.

“Well, well, Professor Snape,” she said, smiling ferally. She turned towards Hermione.

“And Miss Granger. It’s been a long time. Out for a bit of nosh I see, how nice,” she said, her eyes sweeping over the young witch with dislike.

“Not long enough,” Hermione retorted. “What do you want, Rita?”

“News, what else?” the reporter replied as Severus took his seat, scowling at her. He may have set this up, but he had a dislike for the reporter and it showed. Rita pulled out her quick quotes quill. The pen poised over the parchment notepad, ready to write.

“So, are you two an item? Doing a little wining and dining, Professor? How long have you been seeing each other? Is it serious? Are there wedding bells in the future?” she asked rapid-fire.

“Miss Skeeter, Miss Granger and I are having a simple business dinner,” Severus said evenly.

“Business eh? What kind of business? Have you gone into some kind of partnership? Our readers are interested in knowing what a hero like yourself does in his spare time. You’re big news, Professor,” she purred.

“Our business is none of your concern,” snapped Hermione.

“Oh really. It couldn’t be Ministry business, could it Miss Granger?” Rita said, moving in for the attack.

Hermione sputtered. “What the hell are you talking about?” the angry witch demanded.

“Well, no offense to you, Professor…but a few people believe you maintain ties to rogue deatheaters…not that I necessarily do, but there it is. And Miss Granger is privy to sensitive information about Auror defense and detection spells. It seems a good way to pass on information,” she insinuated. Hermione turned bright red.

“How dare you suggest I am passing information!” she cried. Now she was drawing the attention of other patrons.

Rita looked at the mirrors in her and Severus’ hands.

“Hm. Two-way mirrors. Small enough to fit in a pocket. Instant contact. You could reach him at any time with that. Say, during your lunch hour?” Rita grinned at her nastily.

“Miss Skeeter, I assure you that Miss Granger is doing nothing untoward. The mirrors are simply to make contact concerning our business easier for us,” he said. He appeared calm but inwardly he was seething. This was ugly.

“Well then, what kind of business arrangement do you have? You shouldn’t have to hide it, if it’s above board. Most wizards would love the free publicity,” the reporter said, looking at Severus intently. The quick quill was going to town.

The Wizard’s Oath came down on him.

“I’m afraid I cannot divulge that information,” Severus said, looking at Hermione.

“How about you, Miss Granger? Any comment about the nature of your association with Professor Snape?” Rita leaned in toward Hermione as if she were going to kiss her. Hermione shoved her chair back.

“No,” said Hermione, seething. She couldn’t tell Rita about the project. It would be plastered all over the Prophet in the morning. “All I can say is it is clandestine in nature.”

“Clandestine, eh? Doesn’t sound good, Miss Granger. You work for a public office, in a sensitive position. Yet you are hiding things. Well, well. Our readers will want to know what you are up to,” she said, standing up straight again.

“I have a right to my privacy,” Hermione retorted.

“And the public has a right to know what your dealings are with a former deatheater,” Rita snapped. “Particularly since you can identify the spells that can thwart the rogues that remain.” Rita sneered at the witch. Hermione longed to slap the woman. Her hand trembled. Severus noticed Hermione losing it.

“Miss Skeeter, this conversation is over. Please leave our table or I will forcibly remove you from our presence,” he growled. He meant it.

Rita looked at the black look on the Potions Master’s face and withdrew.

“Ah, threatening me. Nice, Professor. Very well, I’ll leave. I’ve gotten everything I need to know,” she said. She walked away, then turned. “Be sure to pick up the morning edition of the Prophet tomorrow. There’s going to be quite a story in there.”

Rita and Bozo exited the restaurant.

“Shit,” Hermione said. “She’s going to rake us over the coals.”

Hermione picked up her glass of wine and drained it quickly.

“Yes,” Severus agreed, “This might get rather nasty. Maybe we should dissolve our arrangement for the time being,” he suggested, knowing full well Hermione would not accept that as an option.

“No, the damage has been done already. Dissolving our agreement won’t stop what Rita is going to write. All we can do is hope the readers see that it is trash reporting,” the witch said, pouring herself another glass of wine, trying to calm down. She was worried, but didn’t want it to show. She looked down at the mirror in her hand. Severus was still in it.

“How do I shut this off?” she asked him, holding up the mirror.

“Just say ‘connection closed’ and it will turn back to a normal mirror,” he replied.

“Connection closed,” she said to the mirror. Her own face appeared in it. She placed it in her pocket. The waiter brought their meals. Severus tucked into his braised chicken, wild rice and peas, while Hermione just pushed her steak and potatoes around her plate. Her appetite was gone, but she continued to drink wine. Severus looked at her with some concern.

“Miss Granger, you must put something on your stomach if you are going to continue to consume wine in that manner,” he said.

Hermione took a bite of a potato and chewed it as if it were made of cardboard. She swallowed it down with some effort. She looked at Severus and said, “It’s just our luck to come here when that horrid woman was present.”

Severus looked at her levelly.

“Quite unfortunate,” he responded.

Hermione returned his gaze.

“The Ministry isn’t going to like this,” she said to him.

“No, I imagine they wouldn’t,” Severus replied, then added, “Hermione, maybe it would be best to put the project on hold for a bit…”

“No!” she said, a bit louder than she intended. Again the patrons looked at the couple. Hermione looked around at them, then turned her amber eyes on Severus pleadingly.

“Professor, can we just go to the Manor?” she asked him in a low voice.

Severus looked at her. She seemed ready to cry.

“Certainly, Miss Granger. Just let me pay the bill,” he said, motioning to the waiter.

Hermione drank one more glass of wine before the Potions Master settled the bill. She had a little buzz…nothing major. But it calmed her somewhat. Severus rose, walked around the table and pulled her chair out. Hermione rose and took his arm. Together they left the restaurant, not noticing the cold, gray eyes that followed them with open hatred.

Once outside, they apparated directly to the Manor.

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A/N: Well, Rita certainly tucked into them. Severus’ plan certainly worked. Now, whom do you suppose those cold, gray eyes belong to? I bet you know. Please review.