Heroes (Edit, Not Update)

Chapter 9 ~ Supper

When Dahlia entered the Great Hall with Hermione, they didn’t use the teacher’s entrance behind the High Table, but entered from the Entrance Hall. Dahlia was amazed at the floating candles and vast ceiling that seemed to open up on the sky.

”What do you do if it rains?” she asked Hermione, craning her head upward to watch the passing clouds.

”Oh, it’s an illusion. The ceiling only mirrors the sky,” she replied as they walked past four long tables that were quickly filling with students. Large windows that opened on the lawn were embedded in the walls. The staff table was on a raised platform at the front of the room, and several teachers entered from the staff table.

Dahlia didn’t get the friendliest of looks from any of them. A few teachers were still sore from her tossing them about. Sybil’s narrowed, magnified eyes watched the sorceress’ approach with clear malice. Flitwick looked at her with undisguised interest. He would love to know why their spells didn’t stop her this morning. She should have been stunned several times over.

The students were as loud and boisterous as any other youngsters as they greeted each other and sat down at the food-laden tables, jostling for positions and pulling food toward them as they loudly conversed. They all wore robes and matching ties at each table. The students at the first table closet to the door wore green and silver ties, the next wore blue and bronze, the one following wore yellow and black and the last table’s occupants wore scarlet and gold ties.

”Why are they wearing different colored ties?” Dahlia asked Hermione as they sat down.

”Oh, they are seated by the houses they are in. The ties reflect their house colors. There are Slytherin, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff and Gryffindor,” Hermione said gesturing toward each table to identify the house.

”Oh, sort of like fraternity houses?” Dahlia asked, interested. It seemed there could be some competition among the students.

”A bit, although they are co-ed,” Hermione replied, “now, just say what you’d like to eat loudly and clearly, and it will appear.”

”Anything I’d like?” Dahlia asked her.

Hermione nodded, ordering her meal and Dahlia blinking at it for a moment, before ordering her own. She was glad they were served in a less competitive manner than the students, who were busily grabbing food off plates left and right, sometimes having little tugs of war with other students across from or next to them. It was probably fun for students, but not suitable for adults. She saw Hermione drink from a large glass of orange liquid with a satisfied sigh. That must be pumpkin juice.

Dahlia ordered a large salad with radishes, peppers, onions, tomatoes, lettuce, cheese and a bit of chicken. For desert she asked for an orange, and she ordered a pumpkin juice as well.

We all know how that turned out.

Suddenly, the whole Hall fell silent, completely silent, the students still consuming their food, but quietly. Dahlia looked around and saw that Headmaster Snape had entered and it was as if someone threw a bucket of ice cold water over everyone present. Even the staff members had stopped talking.

The tall, pale wizard glided over to a large high-backed chair next to Hermione and took his seat with a flourish as staff members murmured greetings at him. He acknowledged these with a nod and ordered his meal. Presently, a low murmur began, nothing like the noise before as everyone quietly spoke, nervously looking up to the dais from time to time, making sure they weren’t attracting the Headmaster’s attention.

Snape looked down at Dahlia, his brow slightly furrowed.

”Where is Mr. Rogue?” the Headmaster asked his Deputy Headmistress as he cut into his rare steak.

”He’s down at the stables with his horse,” Hermione replied, “and Kreacher.”

It was then Severus noticed Bluebell sitting under the table.

”So, he would rather stay with his horse than with his human companion. Interesting,” Snape said.

Dahlia bristled at the insinuation Artimus cared more for his horse than he did her.

”Steede is very important to him and injured as well as in a strange place. It makes sense that Artimus would see about him. He knows I’m fine,” she said in his defense. “He takes very good care of Steede.”

Severus chewed his food, swallowed and said, “It still would have been much simpler to just replace the animal. Both he and you, Miss Joiner, would be home right now if he had just taken the more expedient route and put the horse down.”

Hermione scowled. Severus just didn’t get how it was between owners and their pets. There was a special bond between them. The dark wizard simply saw them as beasts that people needlessly fawned over. Animals didn’t need to be pampered. They could take care of themselves or fall to natural selection as Nature intended. The exception being familiars which could be useful.

“I’d rather wait until Steede heals,” Dahlia said pointedly, eating her salad and frowning at the wizard.

He might be a hero, but he wasn’t a charming one. The way he looked said “Villain” loud and clear. Lank hair, cold black eyes, large hooked nose, sallow skin and rather thin . . . no he definitely didn’t fit the classic hero mold. But maybe that’s why he was such an excellent spy. No one could possibly think anyone who looked and sounded like Severus Snape meant anyone any good.

Suddenly, Snape stood up, tapping his fork on his wineglass.

Everyone looked up expectantly.

”I have an announcement to make,” he said in his soft silken voice, “as of today there is a new policy in place. Those students who continuously show a disregard for the rules of this institution are now officially on notice. If you receive four detentions in one quarter term, your punishment will be upgraded and if you commit any further offenses, including class lateness, incomplete assignments or other acts of non-compliance, you will be incarcerated in the subdungeons for the amount of time I personally designate. All Heads of House will immediately forward all disciplinary records of their students to my Deputy Headmistress, who will sort them out accordingly. Every assigned detention will hereby be brought to my personal notice. There will be order at Hogwarts.”

Hermione stared at the Headmaster.

Oh gods, he did it. He got the board to allow him to institute incarceration as a feasible form of punishment for students.

Down at the end of the table, Filch grinned horrendously. No doubt he would be the Dungeon master. No doubt he’d take great pleasure in his work.

Dahlia blinked up at Snape. Incarceration? Damn, they were tough at Hogwarts.

”This new policy will be posted for review as soon as possible,” Snape said, taking his seat again and listening to the renewed murmurs with some satisfaction. He looked at Hermione.

”As I said earlier, determination counts for quite a bit,” he purred at her, then returned to his food.

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With Kreacher present, Steede wouldn’t talk to Artimus, eyeing the strange little creature who kind of resembled a kobold. Why was he with Artimus?

Artimus introduced Kreacher to the swinging horse, describing him as his “escort” rather than his servant, and telling Steede he was a war hero.

Kreacher observed this one-sided conversation for several minutes, then said, “The horse can speaks.”

Both Steede and Artimus looked at the house elf in amazement.

”What?” Artimus said in disbelief.

Kreacher smiled.

”No needs to tries to hides it from Kreacher. I can reads his thoughts. He is smart and thinks, and I know his secrets,” Kreacher said. “So he mights as well speaks. Kreacher will not tells.”

”What is he? A mind reader?” Steede called down from his sling.

”I imagine he is, although he can’t read my mind. I believe it’s because I am a sorcerer,” Artimus replied. But he was glad he could speak to Steede openly. The sorcerer grabbed a shovel and was about to clean the area under Steede when Kreacher objected.

”No, Sorcerer Rogue, that is Kreacher’s service,” the house elf said, walking forward.

Artimus was about to protest. It was clear to see that Kreacher was up in years and the shovel was so much larger than him. But the house elf just waved a hand at the mess and . . . it was gone. The area beneath Steede was spotless. Kreacher then gave him fresh water and delivered more food to the magical trough.

”My, he’s handy. Do you think we can take him with us?” Steede said in approval. “He could stay in the stable with me.”

Kreacher smiled at the praise but didn’t say anything. It was quite complimentary for a house elf to be wanted for service. Kreacher liked this horse in the strange swing.

”No, he belongs here, Steede,” Artimus replied, looking at the elf appreciatively. He had wonderful magic.

Kreacher probably wouldn’t be adverse to a change of scenery. But although he was at Hogwarts, technically he was bound to Harry Potter and already had a master. So he couldn’t have gone with the sorcerer if he wanted to.

They spent a nice afternoon together, Kreacher bringing him a simply delicious meal of fried rabbit with fresh vegetables after learning the sorcerer enjoyed wild game, then telling Artimus all about his service for the Blacks, and for Harry Potter and the Order.

The elf admitted there was a time he was not for the side of Good, but it was only because those on the side of good were so dismissive and unkind to him, taking away the things of his beloved mistress and yelling at him all the time. They did not respect the memory of his good masters.

”Only those on the dark side was kind to Kreacher, excepts the Dark Lord . . . who almost kills Kreacher . . . but my Master saves me and later gives his own life when he could have takes mine. Kreacher would have dies for him . . . but he spares Kreacher and takes it into himself . . .”

Kreacher’s bullfrog voice went even more croaky as he wiped his eyes, then straightened.

”But my good Master, Regulus Black, he dies for the Good! He gives his life for the Good! Kreacher could do no less, so he fights in the name of my good master, Regulus Black, whose locket I wears forever!”

It was quite a powerful story, and Artimus had even more respect for the old elf as they headed back for Hogwarts, Artimus wishing to walk across the grounds this time and take in the beauty of the setting sun, imagining the light glinting off of puddles . . . puddles that would take him home to the Magical Realm if the circumstances were different.

But as he approached Hogwarts, he couldn’t help thinking that this world was full of true heroes, those who worked together to end evil. If only his own people would make a unified effort instead of being so self-absorbed, only facing the war only when it arrived at their own doorstep, then all this madness might be stopped. But sorcerers weren’t wizards.

And so the war continued.

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Hermione was in her first floor office, sorting through the initial disciplinary reports that had been sent to her by the other Heads of Houses, when Severus knocked on the door.

”Who is it?” Hermione called out.

”The boss,” Severus purred against the door.

Hermione frowned.

”Come in, Severus,” she said, looking at the clock. It was after nine.

The Headmaster entered Hermione’s office, his black eyes resting on the stack of parchments.

”The workday is over, Hermione,” he said to her softly. “I was hoping you might join me for a late snack before retiring.”

”I’m not very hungry, Severus,” she said, her nose in the air.

”Really? That’s a shame, witch. I’ve had lobster bisque specially prepared with you in mind, telling the elves to make sure to add a large quantity of juicy, succulent claw and tail meat,” he purred at her.

Hermione salivated a little. Staff members weren’t allowed to arbitrarily order such expensive fare as lobster. Only the Headmaster of the school had that right. One of the perks of being in charge.

Severus moved closer, leaning over the seated witch, resting his pale hands on her shoulders, his voice low and seductive as he massaged them gently, Hermione’s head slightly falling to the side.

”I had them make it according to my exacting specifications, Hermione . . . and as you know, I have a connoisseur’s palate. Shall I tell you the ingredients?” he breathed, letting his warm breath wash over the shell of her ear.

It’s been said the way to a wizard’s heart is through his stomach, but Severus knew in Hermione’s case, the stomach often led to her knickers. He already had her heart.

”No,” she said weakly, swallowing again.

”I think . . . yes,” he said softly, continuing his caressing of her shoulders, then moving his warm palms to her neck, so she sighed. His hands were magical as well.

”I insisted upon the freshest ingredients, the lobster meat cut into one inch pieces,” he crooned, “the elves used a heavy stock pot, Hermione, heating the rich creamy butter until it turned slightly brown, then adding both the meat and the smaller pieces of shell that still held the flavor of the lobster, cooking it until it turned a lush, bright red.”

Hermione tried not to listen, but Severus’ voice became even more seductive.

”Then, they reduced the heat and added onions, celery, carrot, garlic, tomato, bay leaf, black pepper, thyme, tarragon, paprika and flour, .sautéing for exactly ten minutes. Can’t you almost smell the delicious aroma, Hermione?”

”You’re horrible,” she breathed, “tell me more . . .”

”Then, they removed the pot from the heat and slowly added white wine and brandy,” he continued, his silky voice titillating her taste buds and belly, which was feeling emptier and emptier the more he spoke.

”Then, the pot was returned to the heat and stirred precisely for five minutes to properly incorporate the flavors and ingredients . . . and then . . .”

Snape paused in his description.

”Then what?” Hermione pressed.

”Then, a rich fish stock and not one but two kinds of cream were added, both light and heavy,” Severus hissed.

Hermione physically trembled now.

”Two kinds?” she asked, a kind of squeak in her voice.

”Two,” Severus purred, “how . . . decadent. A bit of salt and pepper to taste, then the bisque was brought to a boil, then allowed to simmer no more than thirty minutes and just a minute touch of cornstarch added to bring it to the perfect consistency.”

”Oh my gods,” Hermione breathed as her stomach gurgled.

”It waits for us now, Hermione, in my office, steaming, ready to be strained . . . a mouth-watering cup at a time, through a fine sieve, those delectable pieces of lobster so rich and flavorful, ready to be consumed, enjoyed, swallowed down, a burst of ecstasy in every luscious bite and slurp . . . “

”All right!” Hermione hissed, standing up and turning to face him, “I’ll come, damn it! But I swear, Severus . . . you play the game so dirty.”

The dark wizard smirked at his lover, his black eyes full of rare mirth.

“That should come as no surprise, Hermione,” he purred, giving her a light kiss and escorting her from her office.

"Dirty is how I like it."

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A/N: Ah, food seduction. ROFL. I wanted to do something different, and food really can be sexy. I just thought it would be funny for Severus to get Hermione into his rooms by seducing her with a recipe. Lol. Anyway, thanks for reading. Tomorrow is my birthday by the way. I’m going to be 47. I’m going to try to celebrate it today since Chi is home and I don’t have to baby-sit. I won’t be doing anything much. I have about 15 dollars. I was thinking I could get a lb of King Crab claws and treat myself. Things are so tight around here, that’s as good as it gets. And, it’s good enough. :)