Heavenly Angel

AN: Obviously, Severus has a bit of a skewed idea of muggle
life.

To all who thought I said ‘balls,’ you are all nuts and need
glasses. ::snicker::

style='font-size:14.0pt'>Heavenly Angel Chapter 9

style='font-size:14.0pt'>~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Ginny appeared in the fireplace of her parlor and made a run
for it. She tripped over a small stool and swore, but tried not to let it slow
her down.

She was barely out of the room before Hermione popped into
the fireplace in a burst of green flame.

“I’m going to kill you!” Hene rne roared and started off
after the sound of Ginny’s pounding feet. She heard Ginny let out a wicked
cackle and slam the door to her room.

There was no getting to her now, the door had surely been
magically reinforced.

Hermione growled in frustration and headed for the kitchen.

She was trying to see how much noise she could possibly make
while trying to make a cup of tea when the back door banged open and Ron walked
in. She was so startled she dropped her teacup and it shattered on the floor.

“Repairo,” Ron said, pointing his wand at the shards of
porcelain. They whisked back together and Hermione picked up her restored
teacup. “Jumpy?”

“What did that letter say?” Hermione narrowed her eyes at
Ron.

“I think I hear Luna calling me,” lied Ron as he tried to back
out of the door. Unfortunately, it wasn’t as close as he thought it was.

“You hold it right there,” said Hermione whipping out her
wand and hitting him with a leg-locker curse.

Ron yelped as he fell backwards to the floor and he fumbled
with his own wand, trying to remove the curse.

“Hermione,” Ron pleaded as she held him at wand point, a
scowl plastered across her face. “For crying out loud. He said his intentions
to you were honorable and he thanked Ginny for not interfering.”

Hermione looked at him as if she expected him to continue.

“Besides the bit about rosemary, that was it,” Ron said,
holding his hands above his head, from his position on the floor. She swished
her wand and removed the curse.

“You couldn’t keep it from her forever,” said Ron. “I found
out with a bit of prodding and I don’t even live here.”

Hermione sighed.

“I guess you’re right,” Hermione said, turning back to her
tea.

Momentarily she had a cup for both her and Ron, who had
picked himself off the floor and had slid into a chair near the kitchen table.
He took the cup from her with a nod and rubbed a bump on his head.

“Sorry,” Hermione said, grinning into her cup.

“Apologies don’t count if you don’t mean it,” said Ginny,
grinning mischievously as she entered the kitchen. Hermione scowled at her,
most of her frustration already taken out on Ron.

“Bugger off,” Hermione muttered as she sipped at her tea.
Both Weasley’s burst out laughing.

“Have you at least figured out what’s expected of you under
the Old Customs?” Ron laughed.

“Not a lot,” Hermione admitted. “Except for looking pretty,
making conversation, and being polite.”

“That’s pretty much it,” Ron said. “At least on your end.”

“Is Snape really that well off?” Ginny asked, her face
screwed up. “It can really get expensive, courting under the Old
Ways.”

“He’s well off,” Hermione said. “I doubt a few presents will
break him.”

“I don’t think you have any idea,” said Ron, looking a bit
concerned.

“I think we’ll find out soon enough,” Ginny said, getting a
cup of tea for herself. “You might want to prepare your parents.”

“I haven’t figured out how to tell them,” Hermione admitted.
“It might be a bit of a shock.”

“Figure it out,” said Ron. “Trust me.”

style='font-size:14.0pt'>~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Daniel Granger was enjoying the newspaper in the comfort of
his living room when there was a knock at the door. Dark wood paneling covered
the cozy room he was in and three soft, dark colored chairs sat near a small
fireplace. A small window was letting in what was left of the sitting sun and
Daniel would probably be closing the curtains within the hour. His leather
slippers slid over the full green carpet covering the floor of the room as he
rose. His reading glasses perched on his nose and his favorite was clenched in
his teeth, the sweet small of pipe tobacco filling the den air.

“I’ll get it, Dear,” Jane Grangers voice called out. She
would have let him get if her hands were full. That meant the chicken was in
the oven and the countdown to dinner had begun.

She had approached middle age well. She had gotten a bit rounder;
her face capable of more emotion, but her long tangle of curls had stayed. Most
days, like today she had it braided to keep it from bothering her.

Mr. Granger settled back down in his chair and looked up to
see his wife showing Severus Snape in. Mr. Granger and Snape had met during
Hermione’s work in the Order.

Mr. Granger’s dark brown hair had yet to show any signs of
graying. His dark brown eyes crinkled at the corners as Snape walked in.

As his student, Hermione didn’t like Snape, although she
claimed he was very efficient. When they had worked in the Order together she
had called him competent. Sometimes Mr. Granger wondered who was the professor
and who was the student.

“Sir,” Snape began with a short bow. Mr. Granger wondered
what on earth was with the formality. He wondered if something had happened to
Hermione. He took off his glasses and folded his paper.

“Has something happened?” Mr. Granger blurted out. He
probably should not have done it in the presence of his wife, from the stricken
look on her face.

“No, Sir,” Snape said, looking a little taken aback. What on
earth was wrong with the man? “Hermione is fine. I saw her this afternoon.”

“Oh,” said Mr. Granger, settling his nerves a little. “Well,
good then.”

“How can we help you, Professor Snape?” Mrs. Granger asked
politely. “Would you like something to drink?”

“No, thank you,” said Snape automatically, afterwards
thinking a glass of water might be nice.

“I’d like some tea,” said Mr. Granger, hopefully. He was
supposed to be cutting back on his caffeine intake, but hoped his wife would
make an exception since they had company.

“That’s nice,” Mrs. Granger said as she walked out of the
room. Well, that answered that. Daniel shot her an annoyed look.

“Well, have a seat,” Mr. Granger said to Snape, motioning to
a chair near him.

“Thank you,” said Snape, perching on the very edge of the
chair. He reached into his cloak and brought out a long thin box. “This is for
you, Sir.”

“Really?” Mr. Granger asked, reaching for the box. He was quite
fond of wizarding things.

He opened the box and he gaped at the contents. Shining in a
rainbow of metallic colors was a complete dental set. In titanium.

“Good Lord,” Mr. Granger said as her reached for a pick and
examined it, taking his glasses off and squinting at it. “These are
incredible.”

Snape felt a little relieved. One present down, one to go.
Perhaps her mother would be just as pleased and the whole thing would be done
easily.

Mrs. Granger walked back into the den, wheeling a tea service,
to Mr. Granger’s delight. He noticed the tea packets were non-caffeinated and
there was no sugar. He suspected the milk was non-fat. He made a face at her,
but she ignored him.

“What are those?” Mrs. Granger asked, peering at the new
tools.

“Look at this,” Mr. Granger said, passing the box to her.
“Ever seen anything like it?”

“They’re beautiful,” Mrs. Granger said and was surprised to
see Snape pulling another box out of his robes and handing it to her.

She handed the tools back to Mr. Granger and let him serve
tea as she opened her box.

Mr. Granger watched lights dance off her face as light was
reflected out of the box. Her face showed surprise as she carefully reached in.
She brought out a light colored metal necklace that jingled as she lifted it.
By the sounds in the box, there were other pieces of jewelry to compliment it.

“Thank you,” Mrs. Granger breathed. “But I have to ask,
what’s the occasion?”

Snape felt the blood drain out of his face. It was now or
never.

He took a deep breath.

Then he fainted.

style='font-size:14.0pt'>~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Snape began thinking something was wrong, even as he
regained consciousness. He tried to force his fingers to his wand, but it
didn’t seem to be on him. He froze and listened for any sound in the room. This
could be very bad. What had hit him?

“I think he’s coming around,” he heard a familiar voice say.

“About time,” he heard another voice snigger. “I thought we
might have to take him to St. Mungo’s.”

Snape relaxed. Whoever these people were, they seemed to be
interested in keeping him well and alive. His eyelids fluttered open and he saw
Ginny and Ron Weasley watching him.

“Where am I?” Snape asked, rubbing his head.

“Hermione’s old bedroom in her parent’s house,” Ron said.
“Drink some water.”

Snape took a glass of water Gin Ginny and sipped at it. He
winced a little and looked at his surroundings. A poster of Viktor Krum scowled
at him. Someone had drawn daisies coming out of his ears and a peace sign on
his forehead. He blinked to make sure his eyes were working properly.
Apparently they were.

The room seemed to be decorated in white with pastel
accents. He felt as if he were trapped inside an Easter egg.

“What hit me?” Snape asked. Perhaps it was all an illusion.

“The floor,” said Ginny. He wondered how long she had
planned to say that and how long it had taken her to think of it. He hoped she
didn’t think she was too terribly clever.

“The floor,” he said evenly. Not an illusion.

“Hermione’s mum asked you what the presents were for and you
fainted,” Ron said, looking a little embarrassed.

Snape shot him a severe look.

“You did,”
Hermione’s voice drifted in behind the Weasleys. She looked at Snape over Ron’s
shoulder. “You’re lucky mum had an owl handy. She didn’t know if she should
take you to a muggle hospital and had to get a hold of us.”

“How fortunate,” Snape said dryly. What an impression. For a
moment he considered hitting them all with a memory charm.

“You’re lucky,” said Ron. “Hermione explained everything to
her parents you you don’t even have to.”

“Did she now?” Snape noticed Hermione had disappeared as
fast as she had appeared.

“Well, they were a bit confused,” Ginny said gently. “You
showed up unannounced, with presents, and proceeded to faint at their feet when
confronted with tea. We had to tell them something.”

“Jane really likes the jewelry, by the way,” said Ron. “I
think you may have already won her over.”

Snape felt a bit better, although still uncomfortable. His
jacket and cape had been removed; his cuffs and collar had been unbuttoned. He
felt practically naked in just his shirt, vest, and trousers.

“I’m still alive so I suspect she restrained Hermione’s
father,” Snape said, flinging the pink fluffy coverlet off him. He scowled at
the delicate white lace edging, as if it were contagious.

“Don’t you dare move,” Mrs. Granger insisted as she pushed
her way into the room, carrying a small tray of tea and water crackers. “You’ve
had a nasty fall and aren’t going to have a repeat performance.”

Snape blinked. So that was where Hermione got her stubborn
streak. He continued sitting on edgeedge of the bed, but had no intention of
climbing back in.

“Thank you,” he said, displeased at how sheepish he sounded.
She sat the tray on his lap and made a face at him.

“You look terribly pale,” she went on.

“How can you tell?” Ron muttered and was rewarded with a
sharp elbow jab from his sister.

Snape sipped delicately from the ceramic mug and looked at
Mrs. Granger. He had no idea what she had been told, but she didn’t look
hostile, in his opinion.

Everyone else left the room and he began to feel nervous. He
was alone with his perspective mother-in-law. This could be worse than
Hermione’s father.

“Our daughter tells us you want to date her,” Mrs. Granger
said, sitting in a white wicker chair near the bed.

Severus reached for a water cracker and chewed it
thoughtfully.

“I think ‘courting’ would be a more appropriate word,” said
Snape. “But yes, I am romantically interested in your daughter.”

“Ginny and Ron tell us the Wizarding Rules are very strict,”
Mrs. ger ger said, folding her hands.

“I don’t think so,” Snape said. “I may see her with a
chaperone. Gifts are permissible, as long as she is comfortable. Presents for
her family. If matrimony is desired, I will supply copies of my financial records
to prove myself as a provider.”

“Doesn’t that seem a bit stoic to you?” Mrs. Granger asked.
“You initiated this. You have said the desired outcome is marriage. Why have
you chosen Hermione?”

Snape felt his cheeks flame. He hadn’t even voiced his feelings
to Hermione while sober. He wasn’t sure he wanted to do it with her mother.

Snape looked into eyes much like Hermione’s. They bore into
him, striking him with their penetrating gaze. She was a few years older than
him, at the most. He shifted uncomfortably.

p;

“She’s intelligent,” Snape began. “She knows how to apply
her intelligence. Her conversation is never tedious. She doesn’t expect
entertainment of anyone in her presence. She can amuse herself.”

Mrs. Granger reached out and took a cracker, but continued
listening. What was he going to have to tell this woman?

 p>

“Her passion for learning is amazing,” Snape said wistfully.
“She practically devours text.”

“None of her other suitors seemed to be able to treat her
with the respect and dignity she deserved,” he said with a sniff. Mrs. Granger
raised an eyebrow at him.

Severus Snape swallowed his pride and prayed he wasn’t too
much of a fool.

“Your daughter is beautiful,” Snape said, relaxing his
posture and looking Hermione’s mother in the eye. “I wanted it to be clear that
I was not just interested in her physical being, but her entire person.”

“It is ultimately her decision and not ours,” Mrs. Granger
said.

“I know,” Snape said. “I’m not asking for an endorsement.
Just a chance.”

“Well,” Mrs. Granger said, giving him a small smile. “The
whole thing seems rather sterile. I hope you understand my concern.”

“We are allowed written correspondence,” Snape said slowly.
“Those letters are preferably private.” He felt hcreecreeping up his neck. He
tried to force it down. “Although if they disturb her the whole thing is called
off and I am forbidden to contact her.”

“You write dirty letters to each other?” Mrs. Granger looked
taken a bit aback.

“Just because they’re private doesn’t mean they’re dirty,” Snape
said, visibly startled. “They’re supposed to serve the purpose of getting to
know one another, without the stress of answering questions immediately, or
gauging the other person’s reaction. You find out things honestly.”

Mrs. Granger fixed him a look as if he expected to
elaborate. He reached for his wand; it was sitting on the bedside table. He
waved it and a cup of tea matching his appeared. He floated it to Mrs. Granger.

“Future plans. Goals. Anecdotes,” Snape listed. What did the
woman want to know, exactly?

“Witches and Wizards live a great deal longer than normal
people,” Mrs. Granger commented, taking the tea. Snape tried not to wince.
There was nothing abnormal about him. Or Hermione, for that matter.

“Yes,” Snape said nervously.

He wondered where she was going with this. Perhaps she was
going to point out that when their ages got to be three digits, the age gap
wouldn’t be so pronounced.

“She could be married for over a hundred years,” Mrs.
Granger said levelly.

Snape understood. Hermione was young. Her mother didn’t want
her saddled to a man with a bad reputation for an eternity. She had so many
chances, so many choices. To throw them all away was madness. He took a deep
drink from his cup.

“A courtship isn’t binding,” Snape said, finally. “Hermione
can break it off anytime she wishes.”

He inwardly winced at the idea. He had finally gotten Hermione
interested. The idea of losing her so quickly was humiliating.

Mrs. Weasley shook her head and drank her tea. She lowered
her cup

“Well, your presents certainly are impressive,” she said,
leveling him with a look. “Let’s hope you are as well.”