Not the best of Birthdays.
folder
Harry Potter › Het - Male/Female › Snape/Hermione
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
4
Views:
3,189
Reviews:
30
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Harry Potter › Het - Male/Female › Snape/Hermione
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
4
Views:
3,189
Reviews:
30
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.
Not the best of Birthdays.
Usual Disclaimer. My response to the Lemon Meringue Challenge on WIKTT. I own nothing here. I wouldn\'t make money out of it even if I tried. fullfully not too OOC, have ignored OotF. Please be gentle, it\'s my first attempt at SS\\HG :-)
*****
Not the best of Birthdays.
chapter 1
Dinner is, as always, a lively affair. Today it has been made even worse by the garish decorations floating around the enchanted ceiling and overwhelming good cheer of the professors at the head table, admittedly my mood is affected by the fledgling migraine developing rapidly inside my skull, that and the reason for the whole terrible ordeal I\'m currently facing.
The headmaster seems almost obsessed with parties, and my birthday (the date of which I have tried to conceal since my schooldays) has given him a tenuous excuse to hold a feast. Finally the main dishes are out of the way and I sit cringing as hundreds of small birthday cakes float from the air to settle at the places of teacher and pupil alike. Once thappiapping is over with I make some half-arsed speech and pray that I\'m not making a fool of myself. Social skills, as Harry keeps telling me, are not a facet of my personality that have Improved with time.
As well as the cake the teachers have the option of lemon mousse, so I sit trying to ignore the rest of the room including the two figures on either side Hooch is boisterously describing the last Gryffindor\\Hufflepuff Quidditch match and Snape, completely in character, (I wish I could get away with It like he does) is stonily blanking everything, I focus my attention on the decision in front of me.
mousse or cake? Cake or mousse? cake, mousse, moussecake.....OUCH!. An enthusiastic Hooch sends me and the lemony confection cannoning into the forbidding professor to my right. Time seems to move in slow-motion as both our deserts are sent spinning off the table and I narrowly manage to catch myself before either one of us ends up in the mess on the floor.
Wordlessly but with a murderous glare Snape drops his spoon on the table, standing and turning in a billowing cloud of robes he stalks to the exit, not once looking back.
*****
Back once again in my rooms I head for the bathroom, wincing at the bright lights above the mirror I knead my temples with fingers made expert with practice, Merlin but I look ill.
The bitter taste of the headache potion reassures me that with a bit of sleep I\'ll end up more my usual self, at least I hope so, the depression that\'s been growing since I got back hasn\'t shown any sign of abating and there isn\'t all that much to be optimistic about during these dark days.
Curling into an overstuffed armchair, I rest my pounding head against one of the wings and pray that when I sleep it will be dreamless.
*****
The sound of knocking drags me protesting from my dream, probably just as well, it was starting to get out of hand. One of my legs no longer works, the sudden pain of restored blood-flow making it impossible to walk.
\"One moment.\"
Groggily and out of breath from the dream but headache free, I limp slowly to my door, opening it cautiously at first but upon recognising my visitor I jerk it open quickly. The red haired woman grins mischievously, standing on tip-toe to wrap me in a spontaneoubracbrace. Spirits instantly lifted I hug the younger Weasley hard, kissing her soundly on the forehead and smiling warmly before releasing her back to the ground.
\"Ginny, what brings you here?\"
If possible her grin widens.
\"Just the small matter of your birthday \'mione.\"
At my scowl she laughs and produces a small package from her robe pocket holding it out to me. I proceed to rip through the wrapping with childlike abandon, presents, and I get few enough as it is are exempt from my normal tidiness obsession, coloured paper and ribbon fall shredded to the ground.
Slowly I open a plain blue box to reveal a small pair of silver filigree earrings which gleam in the firelight. They are just the sort of knot design I love, a lump forms in my throat and I turn back to the woman gazing at me expectantly.
\"They are beautiful Ginny. Thankyou.\"
She beams at the pleasure on my face and conjures a bottle of wine and two glasses before settling herself into the chair I had previously been sleeping in.
\"So how\'s the job going?\"
\"Everything\'s going fine at the moment. The students are, well, students I guess. I get on with almost all the teachers, it\'s odd though, I still can\'t get used to calling Professor McGonnegal \'Minerva\'.\"
That she picks up on my otherwise innocuous statement doesn\'t surprise me. Secrets are difficult to hold onto around Ginny Weasley.
\"Almost? Don\'t tell me...Snape. Has he been hassling you?\"
The look of disgust is almost funny, Ginny is one of the few I ever shared my inappropriate school-girl fixation with. As far as I know she\'s never let it slip, she didn\'t like it, but there you go.
\"Snape\'s as much a bastard to me now I\'m a teacher as he was when I was a student. But then he\'s like it with most of the staff anyway so I suppose I shouldn\'t feel so bad about it\"
\"I guess somethings never change then.\"
She\'s right there, as my somewhat wayward subconscious can attest. Sometimes I wonder how I can look him at all considering the sleepless nights he\'s been unwittingly inducing. Just managing to suppra gra grin before my sense of injustice floods back.
\"It wouldn\'t be so bad if all he did was ignore me, I could handle that. I just wish he\'d stop treating me like the same Gryffindor know-it-all I was back then.\"
Always sweetly defensive Ginny pulls another face.
\"You weren\'t that bad.\"
\"That\'s nice, but I was a royal pain in the arse, I know that. Always having the answers, not giving the others a look-in. It\'s no wonder they got tired with me. \"
I shudder at the unpleasant memory of my younger self.
\"Well I\'ve changed that, learnt to give others a go\"
Firmly changing the rather maudlin subject, I quiz Ginny on her family and what she\'s been up to whilst pouring the wine.
*****
Dobby appears just as we are finishing the second bottle of wine and almost dying from lack of oxygen bought on by an account of a Fred-and-George special.
With an uncomfortable pause accompanied by much wringing of hands the scrawny house-elf builds the courage to say something. Finally covering his face he whimpers.
\"Dobby is so sorry.....really he is. I\'s had no idea it would happen. Oh Dobby is in so much trouble now.\"\"
\"What have you done? It can\'t be that bad surely?\"
With a wail Dobby runs over to the table smacking his head firmly against the edge.
\"Dobby was...\"
Bang.
\"...making desert..\"
Bang.
\" It was an accident...\"
Bang. Bang. Bang.
\"Dobby has never seen so much blood!!\"
By now Ginny has got her hantweetween the sobbing house-elf and the table, the next connection of his head is accompanied by Ginny\'s cursing. Grabbing Dobby I force him to sit feeling the migraine returning from too much wine and the sense of impending dread. Why does the bad stuff always have to happen to me? Trolls, petrification, attacking teachers, dammit!
Removing my hand from his shoulder I ask.
\"What happened Dobby?\"
But the elf is sobbing so violently I can no longer make out what he is saying other than \'Hufflepuff\', \'kitchen\' and repeated heart wrenching apology.
\"Ginny, stay here and try to floo the Headmaster, I\'m going to the kitchen to see if I can find anything out from the other elves.\"
She nods wide eyed and gets up from her position next to Dobby, laying a hand on my arm she whispers \"Be careful.\" I give her a somewhat shaky smile.
\"Always.\"
Hearing her lock the door behind me I hurry off unsteadily towards the kitchen, sighing resignedly. I knew I shouldn\'t have got up this morning, nothing ever good happens on my birthday.
*****
The two great fireplaces supply the only illumination as I enter through the portal into the kitchen, cautiously moving so I can see the rest of the room I wonder where the normally eager house elves ar.....Oh great Merlin!....I stand in frozen horror struggling to take in what I see.
The kitchen looks like something out of a bad slasher movie, blood trickles across the stone floor, leeched black in the half light. Arterial spray has jetted across the fire place, the coppery scent of it, both burnt and fresh makes me gag.
All this I notice with the calm analytical part of my mind, the emotional, (and I really wish this this had gone the other way because it\'s all I can do not to scream), has taken in the mangled corpse of a girl in Hufflepuff uniform.
Crouching over her is the unmistakable form of Madam Hooch, knife clenched tightly in a gore encrusted hand.
At the whimper I can\'t quite contain her head snaps up, in the semi darkness of the kitchen her eyes glow brightly with a pulsing yellow light, her blood streaked face contorts into a snarl and she jumps for me. I turn to flee only to loose my footing on the bloody floor, twisting my ankle sharply and causing me to yell out in pain as I crash hard to the cold stone, the slicing pain in my arm telling me if I hadn\'t slipped I could be dead by now.
Hooch advances more slowly now, dripping knife at her side as I try to scuttle backwards and away, my vision dimming with shock and pain at every movement.
Finally, with my back to the wall and Hooch raising the knife over me I know there is nothing I can do, my own laughter dim and far away doesn\'t surprise me as much as the sudden exclamation and burst of light. Seeing my assailant flying sideways seems even funnier and, giggling hysterically I black out.
Tbc....
*****
Not the best of Birthdays.
chapter 1
Dinner is, as always, a lively affair. Today it has been made even worse by the garish decorations floating around the enchanted ceiling and overwhelming good cheer of the professors at the head table, admittedly my mood is affected by the fledgling migraine developing rapidly inside my skull, that and the reason for the whole terrible ordeal I\'m currently facing.
The headmaster seems almost obsessed with parties, and my birthday (the date of which I have tried to conceal since my schooldays) has given him a tenuous excuse to hold a feast. Finally the main dishes are out of the way and I sit cringing as hundreds of small birthday cakes float from the air to settle at the places of teacher and pupil alike. Once thappiapping is over with I make some half-arsed speech and pray that I\'m not making a fool of myself. Social skills, as Harry keeps telling me, are not a facet of my personality that have Improved with time.
As well as the cake the teachers have the option of lemon mousse, so I sit trying to ignore the rest of the room including the two figures on either side Hooch is boisterously describing the last Gryffindor\\Hufflepuff Quidditch match and Snape, completely in character, (I wish I could get away with It like he does) is stonily blanking everything, I focus my attention on the decision in front of me.
mousse or cake? Cake or mousse? cake, mousse, moussecake.....OUCH!. An enthusiastic Hooch sends me and the lemony confection cannoning into the forbidding professor to my right. Time seems to move in slow-motion as both our deserts are sent spinning off the table and I narrowly manage to catch myself before either one of us ends up in the mess on the floor.
Wordlessly but with a murderous glare Snape drops his spoon on the table, standing and turning in a billowing cloud of robes he stalks to the exit, not once looking back.
*****
Back once again in my rooms I head for the bathroom, wincing at the bright lights above the mirror I knead my temples with fingers made expert with practice, Merlin but I look ill.
The bitter taste of the headache potion reassures me that with a bit of sleep I\'ll end up more my usual self, at least I hope so, the depression that\'s been growing since I got back hasn\'t shown any sign of abating and there isn\'t all that much to be optimistic about during these dark days.
Curling into an overstuffed armchair, I rest my pounding head against one of the wings and pray that when I sleep it will be dreamless.
*****
The sound of knocking drags me protesting from my dream, probably just as well, it was starting to get out of hand. One of my legs no longer works, the sudden pain of restored blood-flow making it impossible to walk.
\"One moment.\"
Groggily and out of breath from the dream but headache free, I limp slowly to my door, opening it cautiously at first but upon recognising my visitor I jerk it open quickly. The red haired woman grins mischievously, standing on tip-toe to wrap me in a spontaneoubracbrace. Spirits instantly lifted I hug the younger Weasley hard, kissing her soundly on the forehead and smiling warmly before releasing her back to the ground.
\"Ginny, what brings you here?\"
If possible her grin widens.
\"Just the small matter of your birthday \'mione.\"
At my scowl she laughs and produces a small package from her robe pocket holding it out to me. I proceed to rip through the wrapping with childlike abandon, presents, and I get few enough as it is are exempt from my normal tidiness obsession, coloured paper and ribbon fall shredded to the ground.
Slowly I open a plain blue box to reveal a small pair of silver filigree earrings which gleam in the firelight. They are just the sort of knot design I love, a lump forms in my throat and I turn back to the woman gazing at me expectantly.
\"They are beautiful Ginny. Thankyou.\"
She beams at the pleasure on my face and conjures a bottle of wine and two glasses before settling herself into the chair I had previously been sleeping in.
\"So how\'s the job going?\"
\"Everything\'s going fine at the moment. The students are, well, students I guess. I get on with almost all the teachers, it\'s odd though, I still can\'t get used to calling Professor McGonnegal \'Minerva\'.\"
That she picks up on my otherwise innocuous statement doesn\'t surprise me. Secrets are difficult to hold onto around Ginny Weasley.
\"Almost? Don\'t tell me...Snape. Has he been hassling you?\"
The look of disgust is almost funny, Ginny is one of the few I ever shared my inappropriate school-girl fixation with. As far as I know she\'s never let it slip, she didn\'t like it, but there you go.
\"Snape\'s as much a bastard to me now I\'m a teacher as he was when I was a student. But then he\'s like it with most of the staff anyway so I suppose I shouldn\'t feel so bad about it\"
\"I guess somethings never change then.\"
She\'s right there, as my somewhat wayward subconscious can attest. Sometimes I wonder how I can look him at all considering the sleepless nights he\'s been unwittingly inducing. Just managing to suppra gra grin before my sense of injustice floods back.
\"It wouldn\'t be so bad if all he did was ignore me, I could handle that. I just wish he\'d stop treating me like the same Gryffindor know-it-all I was back then.\"
Always sweetly defensive Ginny pulls another face.
\"You weren\'t that bad.\"
\"That\'s nice, but I was a royal pain in the arse, I know that. Always having the answers, not giving the others a look-in. It\'s no wonder they got tired with me. \"
I shudder at the unpleasant memory of my younger self.
\"Well I\'ve changed that, learnt to give others a go\"
Firmly changing the rather maudlin subject, I quiz Ginny on her family and what she\'s been up to whilst pouring the wine.
*****
Dobby appears just as we are finishing the second bottle of wine and almost dying from lack of oxygen bought on by an account of a Fred-and-George special.
With an uncomfortable pause accompanied by much wringing of hands the scrawny house-elf builds the courage to say something. Finally covering his face he whimpers.
\"Dobby is so sorry.....really he is. I\'s had no idea it would happen. Oh Dobby is in so much trouble now.\"\"
\"What have you done? It can\'t be that bad surely?\"
With a wail Dobby runs over to the table smacking his head firmly against the edge.
\"Dobby was...\"
Bang.
\"...making desert..\"
Bang.
\" It was an accident...\"
Bang. Bang. Bang.
\"Dobby has never seen so much blood!!\"
By now Ginny has got her hantweetween the sobbing house-elf and the table, the next connection of his head is accompanied by Ginny\'s cursing. Grabbing Dobby I force him to sit feeling the migraine returning from too much wine and the sense of impending dread. Why does the bad stuff always have to happen to me? Trolls, petrification, attacking teachers, dammit!
Removing my hand from his shoulder I ask.
\"What happened Dobby?\"
But the elf is sobbing so violently I can no longer make out what he is saying other than \'Hufflepuff\', \'kitchen\' and repeated heart wrenching apology.
\"Ginny, stay here and try to floo the Headmaster, I\'m going to the kitchen to see if I can find anything out from the other elves.\"
She nods wide eyed and gets up from her position next to Dobby, laying a hand on my arm she whispers \"Be careful.\" I give her a somewhat shaky smile.
\"Always.\"
Hearing her lock the door behind me I hurry off unsteadily towards the kitchen, sighing resignedly. I knew I shouldn\'t have got up this morning, nothing ever good happens on my birthday.
*****
The two great fireplaces supply the only illumination as I enter through the portal into the kitchen, cautiously moving so I can see the rest of the room I wonder where the normally eager house elves ar.....Oh great Merlin!....I stand in frozen horror struggling to take in what I see.
The kitchen looks like something out of a bad slasher movie, blood trickles across the stone floor, leeched black in the half light. Arterial spray has jetted across the fire place, the coppery scent of it, both burnt and fresh makes me gag.
All this I notice with the calm analytical part of my mind, the emotional, (and I really wish this this had gone the other way because it\'s all I can do not to scream), has taken in the mangled corpse of a girl in Hufflepuff uniform.
Crouching over her is the unmistakable form of Madam Hooch, knife clenched tightly in a gore encrusted hand.
At the whimper I can\'t quite contain her head snaps up, in the semi darkness of the kitchen her eyes glow brightly with a pulsing yellow light, her blood streaked face contorts into a snarl and she jumps for me. I turn to flee only to loose my footing on the bloody floor, twisting my ankle sharply and causing me to yell out in pain as I crash hard to the cold stone, the slicing pain in my arm telling me if I hadn\'t slipped I could be dead by now.
Hooch advances more slowly now, dripping knife at her side as I try to scuttle backwards and away, my vision dimming with shock and pain at every movement.
Finally, with my back to the wall and Hooch raising the knife over me I know there is nothing I can do, my own laughter dim and far away doesn\'t surprise me as much as the sudden exclamation and burst of light. Seeing my assailant flying sideways seems even funnier and, giggling hysterically I black out.
Tbc....