Walls of Jericho
folder
Harry Potter › Het - Male/Female › Snape/Hermione
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
3
Views:
10,405
Reviews:
35
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
1
Category:
Harry Potter › Het - Male/Female › Snape/Hermione
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
3
Views:
10,405
Reviews:
35
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
1
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.
Walls of Jericho
A/N: I own nothing in the Potterverse. Making no money, just trying to amuse myself with Snape and the lot.
Walls of Jericho
The Accident
This was it. This was the moment it seemed like she’d been waiting ages for. She could feel him watching her; his keen eye taking in every detail, critiquing her technique. Perversely, even though his satisfaction wasn’t the goal of her endeavor, she wanted to please him. Wanted to see a flare of approval in his dark eyes.
Or, better still, when the Wizard’s Board of Education found her efforts to be without flaw, she wanted him to look at her with pride.
As far as her fantasies of the taciturn Potions Master went, it was one of her tamer ones. Hermione snorted at her own temporary insanity.
Tame or not, it was no more likely to happen than any of the others.
She finished stirring the pale lavender liquid in her cauldron and waved her hand at the official, Mr. Bricman, in the front of the lab. She was careful to avoid looking for the man who would no longer be her instructor in just a few short hours.
This was her last NEWT, once the results of her practical were recorded Hermione would be free to do or say whatever she wished in regards to the dark man leaning against the wall.
Officially he had no responsibility during the NEWTs – the potions were evaluated by the impartial official – but it was never a bad idea to have an extra expert around when one was working with volatile chemicals. So he stood in the back of the lab near the door, arms crossed, shoulder braced against the wall.
Mr. Bricman finished inspecting her work and told Hermione to clean up her work space.
Her table was the farthest back in the lab, Professor Snape had wanted to ensure that Ron or Harry couldn’t see what she was doing. As she carried her unused ingredients back to the supply shelves she passed the next closest table, Neville Longbottom’s.
The poor boy. Professor Snape’s foreboding presence seemed to be flustering him more than usual and his steaming cauldron was filled with an angry-red, viscous liquid. Whatever he was supposed to be brewing, that wasn’t it.
Hermione sighed and continued her cleaning efforts. Left to his own devices Neville was a passable brewer. It was his nervousness around the Professor that did him in.
Area cleared, Hermione approached the door. She studied Professor Snape’s face, hoping to see ... something, after all, this would be probably the last chance she would ever have to talk to him.
He wasn’t even looking at her. His attention was focused on the lab behind her and as she watched, he tensed up, pushing away from the wall.
Hermione pushed down her disappointment and glanced over her shoulder to see what held his attention.
Time seemed to slow as the accident began.
Neville backed away from his table as the cauldron started to vibrate. Liquid rolled over the sides, extinguishing the flames.
Mr. Bricman called out to everyone, ordering them away from the cauldron, the safety of the students his first priority.
Hermione turned, wand drawn, purely on instinct.
Neville stood frozen in terror as the cauldron began to shake violently. Mr. Bricman reached him and began to pull him away.
Hermione saw Harry and Ron try to shove Erin Meers, a Ravenclaw, under a table. The other students were doing the same, hiding under tables or huddling in the farthest corner of the room.
She was pushed roughly to the side as Professor Snape advanced on the danger. He cast a containment spell that stopped the lava-like flow from the cauldron for a moment before it burst free.
His voice echoed through the lab as he cast again, this time only managing to slow the onslaught.
Hermione wanted to duck and cover, her instincts for self preservation were screaming at her ... but she wouldn’t leave him.
His head whipped around as her incantation echoed his.
Their combined spells slowed the flow to a trickle.
“Get back, girl.”
“You first. The spells aren’t holding.” Hermione grabbed his free arm and pulled.
Professor Snape pulled back. “Get back, you fool. It’s...”
Then everything happened at once.
People started screaming.
Professor Snape pulled Hermione to the ground, tucking her head under his chin and wrapping his teaching robes around them like a cloak.
The pressure of the containment spells caused the reaction in the cauldron to build to an eruption. The resulting explosion rained droplets and globs of red slime across the lab.
Her left ankle started to sting and Hermione tried to pull it under the cloth. Wherever the red rain came in contact with her skin it felt like a swarm of biting insects were attacking her.
Hermione’s hold on Professor Snape’s arm tightened painfully. He shifted and Hermione suddenly found herself completely encased in the black fabric of his robes, her legs pulled roughly up to his side by a strong arm, her check pressed against his chest. His rapid heartbeat was loud against her ear.
An eternity passed before hearheard Mr. Bricman give a cautious all clear.
Immediately, Professor Snape sprang up, hauling a stunned Hermione with him, and rushed to a shelf full of salves.
“Take this,” he shoved a large jar into her hand. “Apply it to the burns. Quickly.”
Only then did she notice the red splotches on his hands, face and neck – chemical burns. Burns that were nearly identical to the marks on her legs.
While she slathered the salve on her legs, Professor Snape and Mr. Bricman gathered the others near the shelves and had them do the same. Almost everyone who had hidden under the tables or the desk was untouched. Snape sent one of them to summon Madam Pomfrey and the Headmaster.
The others – a small handful including Harry and Ron, Neville, Draco, Erin and another Ravenclaw named Stewart, a Slytherin called Marta, Mr. Bricman and a set of Hufflepuff twins named Sarah and Jessie – had very minor burns. The majority of the damage seemed to be centered on the only two people near the epicenter at the time of the explosion – Hermione and the Potions Master.
Hermione finished and passed the jar around. Once everyone had covered their burns, Snape took stock of the room.
It was a mess. The red slime had jelled and covered most of the surfaces within ten feet of the cauldron. Everything else was peppered with mucus-like globs.
“Everyone into the hall, carefully. This room needs to be cleared. Out!” Snape bit out between lips clenched in anger.
It was Draco who first noticed the problem. As everyone filed out of the room, friends began to group. Draco had just reached the small mass of Slytherins when some force pulled him back. The Hufflepuff twins looked up in shock and froze, barely ten feet from Draco.
“Professor Snape? Something’s wrong.” Draco stared at the two girls. They stared back, equally distressed.
Snape mumbled something under his breath, and glared at the blond Slytherin. “What now, Mr. Malfoy?”
His long stride ate up the distance between him and Draco.
Just before Snape reached his target Hermione felt a twinge in her lower back. Snape took one last step, this one shorter and slightly hesitant, as a look of confusion creased his face.
The twinge blossomed into something worse as a force not unlike being kicked in the back shoved Hermione forward on to her knees.
Hermione and Snape shared a look of dawning horror.
Ron’s voice echoed through the hall as he summed it all up, “Oh, bugger.”
~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~
A/N - This is my answer to the WIKTT Bounch Challenge. Yes, the premise of the Potions Accident is cliched, but it\'s all part of the challenge.
The rules are below:
The Bound Challenge from WIKTT
Due to an unfortunate mistake made in potions, Hermione and Snape are magically bound and can’t go more than a few feet from each other. How will they ever learn to live together?
**Requirements**
* Neville (or another ‘dunderhead’) makes a boo-boo in potions and the result is a magical bond between Hermione and Severus.
*They cannot go more than a few feet from each other. (Max 10 ft; Min ... 10 inches??)(... just had a really strange vision of them being actually fused together)
*They could try to hide it from the rest of the school (how is beyond me) but that is up to you.
*A bet goes around about who will kill who first, or some such thing. All houses (and staff?) involved.
*This is preferably after the war (makes things so much less complicated)
*And what would a Severus/Hermione story be without smut?
*Hermione has to be of age (Preferably 18)
**Optional**
* Someone asks Malfoy for his autograph and then says, “Oh, they don’t give you an award or anything for being the biggest prick on the planet?”
* H&S having a loud, very rude argument in a very public place.
* Someone catches Goyle and/or Crabbe in a broom closet (or dark corner, etc) with Filch and/or Mrs. Norris (if you would prefer a female)
* Hermione being a nagging mother to Snape (Eat your veggies! Tie your shoe before you trip! Don’t run with pointy things!)
* A very drunk Neville hits on an equally drunk Trelawney/McGonagall
* “And the winner is ... Crookshanks?”
Walls of Jericho
The Accident
This was it. This was the moment it seemed like she’d been waiting ages for. She could feel him watching her; his keen eye taking in every detail, critiquing her technique. Perversely, even though his satisfaction wasn’t the goal of her endeavor, she wanted to please him. Wanted to see a flare of approval in his dark eyes.
Or, better still, when the Wizard’s Board of Education found her efforts to be without flaw, she wanted him to look at her with pride.
As far as her fantasies of the taciturn Potions Master went, it was one of her tamer ones. Hermione snorted at her own temporary insanity.
Tame or not, it was no more likely to happen than any of the others.
She finished stirring the pale lavender liquid in her cauldron and waved her hand at the official, Mr. Bricman, in the front of the lab. She was careful to avoid looking for the man who would no longer be her instructor in just a few short hours.
This was her last NEWT, once the results of her practical were recorded Hermione would be free to do or say whatever she wished in regards to the dark man leaning against the wall.
Officially he had no responsibility during the NEWTs – the potions were evaluated by the impartial official – but it was never a bad idea to have an extra expert around when one was working with volatile chemicals. So he stood in the back of the lab near the door, arms crossed, shoulder braced against the wall.
Mr. Bricman finished inspecting her work and told Hermione to clean up her work space.
Her table was the farthest back in the lab, Professor Snape had wanted to ensure that Ron or Harry couldn’t see what she was doing. As she carried her unused ingredients back to the supply shelves she passed the next closest table, Neville Longbottom’s.
The poor boy. Professor Snape’s foreboding presence seemed to be flustering him more than usual and his steaming cauldron was filled with an angry-red, viscous liquid. Whatever he was supposed to be brewing, that wasn’t it.
Hermione sighed and continued her cleaning efforts. Left to his own devices Neville was a passable brewer. It was his nervousness around the Professor that did him in.
Area cleared, Hermione approached the door. She studied Professor Snape’s face, hoping to see ... something, after all, this would be probably the last chance she would ever have to talk to him.
He wasn’t even looking at her. His attention was focused on the lab behind her and as she watched, he tensed up, pushing away from the wall.
Hermione pushed down her disappointment and glanced over her shoulder to see what held his attention.
Time seemed to slow as the accident began.
Neville backed away from his table as the cauldron started to vibrate. Liquid rolled over the sides, extinguishing the flames.
Mr. Bricman called out to everyone, ordering them away from the cauldron, the safety of the students his first priority.
Hermione turned, wand drawn, purely on instinct.
Neville stood frozen in terror as the cauldron began to shake violently. Mr. Bricman reached him and began to pull him away.
Hermione saw Harry and Ron try to shove Erin Meers, a Ravenclaw, under a table. The other students were doing the same, hiding under tables or huddling in the farthest corner of the room.
She was pushed roughly to the side as Professor Snape advanced on the danger. He cast a containment spell that stopped the lava-like flow from the cauldron for a moment before it burst free.
His voice echoed through the lab as he cast again, this time only managing to slow the onslaught.
Hermione wanted to duck and cover, her instincts for self preservation were screaming at her ... but she wouldn’t leave him.
His head whipped around as her incantation echoed his.
Their combined spells slowed the flow to a trickle.
“Get back, girl.”
“You first. The spells aren’t holding.” Hermione grabbed his free arm and pulled.
Professor Snape pulled back. “Get back, you fool. It’s...”
Then everything happened at once.
People started screaming.
Professor Snape pulled Hermione to the ground, tucking her head under his chin and wrapping his teaching robes around them like a cloak.
The pressure of the containment spells caused the reaction in the cauldron to build to an eruption. The resulting explosion rained droplets and globs of red slime across the lab.
Her left ankle started to sting and Hermione tried to pull it under the cloth. Wherever the red rain came in contact with her skin it felt like a swarm of biting insects were attacking her.
Hermione’s hold on Professor Snape’s arm tightened painfully. He shifted and Hermione suddenly found herself completely encased in the black fabric of his robes, her legs pulled roughly up to his side by a strong arm, her check pressed against his chest. His rapid heartbeat was loud against her ear.
An eternity passed before hearheard Mr. Bricman give a cautious all clear.
Immediately, Professor Snape sprang up, hauling a stunned Hermione with him, and rushed to a shelf full of salves.
“Take this,” he shoved a large jar into her hand. “Apply it to the burns. Quickly.”
Only then did she notice the red splotches on his hands, face and neck – chemical burns. Burns that were nearly identical to the marks on her legs.
While she slathered the salve on her legs, Professor Snape and Mr. Bricman gathered the others near the shelves and had them do the same. Almost everyone who had hidden under the tables or the desk was untouched. Snape sent one of them to summon Madam Pomfrey and the Headmaster.
The others – a small handful including Harry and Ron, Neville, Draco, Erin and another Ravenclaw named Stewart, a Slytherin called Marta, Mr. Bricman and a set of Hufflepuff twins named Sarah and Jessie – had very minor burns. The majority of the damage seemed to be centered on the only two people near the epicenter at the time of the explosion – Hermione and the Potions Master.
Hermione finished and passed the jar around. Once everyone had covered their burns, Snape took stock of the room.
It was a mess. The red slime had jelled and covered most of the surfaces within ten feet of the cauldron. Everything else was peppered with mucus-like globs.
“Everyone into the hall, carefully. This room needs to be cleared. Out!” Snape bit out between lips clenched in anger.
It was Draco who first noticed the problem. As everyone filed out of the room, friends began to group. Draco had just reached the small mass of Slytherins when some force pulled him back. The Hufflepuff twins looked up in shock and froze, barely ten feet from Draco.
“Professor Snape? Something’s wrong.” Draco stared at the two girls. They stared back, equally distressed.
Snape mumbled something under his breath, and glared at the blond Slytherin. “What now, Mr. Malfoy?”
His long stride ate up the distance between him and Draco.
Just before Snape reached his target Hermione felt a twinge in her lower back. Snape took one last step, this one shorter and slightly hesitant, as a look of confusion creased his face.
The twinge blossomed into something worse as a force not unlike being kicked in the back shoved Hermione forward on to her knees.
Hermione and Snape shared a look of dawning horror.
Ron’s voice echoed through the hall as he summed it all up, “Oh, bugger.”
~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~
A/N - This is my answer to the WIKTT Bounch Challenge. Yes, the premise of the Potions Accident is cliched, but it\'s all part of the challenge.
The rules are below:
The Bound Challenge from WIKTT
Due to an unfortunate mistake made in potions, Hermione and Snape are magically bound and can’t go more than a few feet from each other. How will they ever learn to live together?
**Requirements**
* Neville (or another ‘dunderhead’) makes a boo-boo in potions and the result is a magical bond between Hermione and Severus.
*They cannot go more than a few feet from each other. (Max 10 ft; Min ... 10 inches??)(... just had a really strange vision of them being actually fused together)
*They could try to hide it from the rest of the school (how is beyond me) but that is up to you.
*A bet goes around about who will kill who first, or some such thing. All houses (and staff?) involved.
*This is preferably after the war (makes things so much less complicated)
*And what would a Severus/Hermione story be without smut?
*Hermione has to be of age (Preferably 18)
**Optional**
* Someone asks Malfoy for his autograph and then says, “Oh, they don’t give you an award or anything for being the biggest prick on the planet?”
* H&S having a loud, very rude argument in a very public place.
* Someone catches Goyle and/or Crabbe in a broom closet (or dark corner, etc) with Filch and/or Mrs. Norris (if you would prefer a female)
* Hermione being a nagging mother to Snape (Eat your veggies! Tie your shoe before you trip! Don’t run with pointy things!)
* A very drunk Neville hits on an equally drunk Trelawney/McGonagall
* “And the winner is ... Crookshanks?”