“beyond wandpoint” 103a by gingerbred
Mar. 24th, 2019 03:36 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
beyondwandpoint“11 12p Wednesday - Practice and Discovery” Part 1
Severus Snape, Hermione Granger, Slytherins: Draco Malfoy, Blaise Zabini, Millicent Bulstrode, Harper Hutchinson, Aaron Avery, Sheldon Shafiq, Hestia Carrow, Valerie Vaisey, Others: Crookshanks, Mentioned briefly: Slytherins: Vincent Crabbe, Gregory Goyle, Daphne Greengrass, Tracey Davis, Ella Wilkins, Flora Carrow Others: Sunny, Slinky
In which Severus has wood, and Hermione wishes she had game as she tries to entice him into her bedroom.
(Seriously, people? Tsk. You should really know me better by now...)
Originally Published: 2019-02-04 on AO3
Chapter: 103 part 1
The original version of this chapter exceeded livejournal’s maximum post length. It’s been split in two parts.
Characters:
Severus (HoS, Potions), Hermione 7G (Prefect, Supreme Swot)
Slytherins:
Draco 7S (Prefect, Team Captain, Seeker, Swot), Blaise Zabini 7S (Keeper (but only in the Quidditch sense...)), Millicent 'Millie' Bulstrode (Reserve Beater, yes, that.), Harper Hutchinson 6S (Prefect, Chaser, flash Robe Model), Aaron Avery 6S (Reserve Chaser), Sheldon Shafiq 6S (Reserve Beater, and charm on legs), Hestia Carrow 6S (Chaser, sporty twin), Valerie 'Val' Vaisey 6S (Chaser)
Others:
Crookshanks 'Crooks' (Hermione's half-Kneazle)
Mentioned briefly:
Slytherins: Vincent 'Vince' Crabbe 7S (Beater, Winged ex-Couch still-Potato), Gregory Goyle 7S (Beater), Daphne Greengrass 7S (Sparkly! Fwoopers!), Tracey Davis 7S (Swottier), Ella Wilkins 6S (Prefect), Flora Carrow 6S (friendly twin) Others: Sunny (the Snapes' house elf), Slinky (the Slytherin House's chief house elf)
A/N:
Severus has a couple less than generous thoughts. Relax, it will be alright. Nobody [Panic], Nobody Get Hurt...
Previously:
After the Headmaster repairs the blouse Hermione was wearing Friday night and cleans Severus' blood off of it 008, she shrinks it 016 and places it in a phial which she also Reducios and begins to carry around with her for luck. 017 Eventually she Transfigures a cat toy into a chain for it, as one does, and takes to wearing it instead, trendsetting witch that she is. 047
Hermione moves into the dungeons and Severus glumly rearranges his chambers to accommodate her. 035
Hermione takes the staff to task after their less than warm reception of the news that Severus had bonded with her. She does so so thoroughly, in fact, they promptly send wedding presents. Anything just to make her hair stop crackling... 041 Albus ever so kindly brings them to her while Severus is stuck in the Infirmary Tuesday morning, and she sets them out for him - rather decoratively - on the dining room table. 070 He's naturally thrilled at the sight. 072
Severus got drunk enough Tuesday evening to think it was a fine idea to have Hermione try to poison him. She took exception to that. 077 But then, he isn't the only one with questionable judgment. She took the liberty of applying some Scar Salve to his chest while he was passed out on the couch, only to have a panic attack that she couldn't 081 and then a surfeit of qualms about having done so, because some people are just so difficult to please. Or possibly damaged. Probably that.
Harper took a picture of Vince stuck to the common room couch with his fairy wings flapping and expects to take a pounding for his gumption. 091
Severus orders Slinky to administer Insalacious Saltpetre to Draco, Blaise and Vincent, because they are beyond stupid, and he's a Potions Master, for fuck's sake. 097 Draco's lunch is interrupted by Theo's hurried departure from the Great Hall, so he doesn't eat much of the dosed food. 098
The sixth year Slytherin Chasers take it upon themselves to train the reserve Quidditch team during lunch. Decided 083 (Implemented 98-100)
At Tracey and Hestia's urging, the Slytherin girls decide it would be... prudent to keep an eye on the Head's bondmate. Ella and Daphne are selected to research bonds and Vows, and Tracey and Flora to brew Pain Relief during Wednesday's lunch. Following Hestia's suggestion 083, Millie gets some of the Potion from Tracey for one of the boys. 102
Millie walks Hermione back to her quarters in the dungeons, only to hear her Quidditch teammates coming and rapidly depart. 102
Draco visits Vince and Gregory in the Infirmary and discovers they won't be fit for practice. 102
Before she's gone two steps into the room, Hermione is one handedly yanking off her tie - with only moderate success, she hadn't loosened it sufficiently - the door falling to and locking behind her. She Banishes her books to the breakfast bar, it must be good for something, freeing her second hand to deal with the tie properly. Four steps further, never breaking stride, she's tucked it into the pocket of her robe and shed that as well, still under the mistaken impression the Professor had wanted her not to wear her uniform in quarters and eager to eliminate any source of friction between them with the way he seems to be feeling. And goodness, isn't he making her nervous with whatever that is...
She spots him in their lounge staring steadfastly away from her before she even reaches the kitchen island.
He's standing there, one arm held tightly across his body, propping the other, the hand of which obscures much of the lower half of his face. His long fingers are sort of arranged around his lips in what she takes for a subconscious effort to keep from speaking, as if that gesture could keep him from saying something he'll regret. (It seems unlikely that it works that way...) His posture radiates his displeasure, and even without the bond, she'd know something was very wrong here.
She drapes her school robes over the back of one of the barstools, right next to her texts, because something about the Professor's demeanour has her feeling she should hurry. She charms her skirt green as she crosses the space between the kitchen and dinning area, rushing towards him, and only reaches the step down to their lounge and the second button of her blouse - for which he'll be grateful, once he notices - before she tracks his gaze to the bookshelves.
Crooks, she is horrified to see, is quite happily camped on a ledge protruding from one of the upper shelves of the bookcase, where he's calmly licking his paws.
Next to all the Professor's books! Which - she'd assured him - were safe as houses despite her pet...
Clutching her pendant like some magical talisman, Miss Granger lets out one of her now habitual "Crooks!" sounds which - equally habitually, as Severus wryly notes - accomplishes bugger all, save that the creature shifts to licking his side, before it strikes her to wonder what the dickens her pet is perched on.
Closer examination - from her not-nearly-safe-enough distance - reveals a series of ledges, extensions from the shelves themselves by a good eight inches or so, scattered all about the surface of the bookshelves like an odd maze or a series of stepping stones. Probably not that... 'Leaping ledges', her brain supplies while she tries to work her way through this.
She is quite certain Crooks shouldn't be on the shelves, but then she's equally certain these shelf... protrusions hadn't been there yesterday evening when she was sat across from the shelving units.
She's just hoping Sunny didn't do this, because from the darkening expression on the Professor's face, the elf would be in a world of trouble if he had...
Severus, on the other hand, has a dim recollection of how they came to be, which isn't making matters better for him in the least.
Or perhaps it's fairer to say it's an impression of a series of events he's now finding difficult to comprehend. Very.
He thinks it started last night, sometime after Miss Granger stormed out, and while he was lolling on the floor, thoroughly... cabbaged.
Hmm. Yes. That explains much, of course...
He remembers losing the cork to his bottle under the couch - before he'd chopped off its legs last night, obviously - and the half-Kneazle had batted it back to him, decently enough - why he hadn't Summoned it is another matter - and then of course he still didn't stopper his bottle - no, whatever for? - having cleverly decided to keep drinking...
So far so good.
Well, perhaps not good...
No, none of it had been good.
He recalls flicking the cork back under the couch instead, it seemed a perfectly sensible idea at the time, and the feline swatting it back out... And then he sort of... played a... game with the creature, doing that a number of times, except he now rather suspects that the animal was entertaining him as opposed to the other way around - which he's finding extremely condescending on reflection - missing the point that if he hadn't noticed, then it had simply been an appropriate way of dealing with him at the time.
Considering the Gnomicide he had had Miss Granger administer to him not long before, one might be eminently justified in questioning his mental fitness yesterday evening...
Somehow as a result of their interactions, his and the creature's - and he's having great difficulty following his logic by the terribly cruel light of day, evening, whatever - he had modified the bookshelves, just a little, thinking the ginger fiend might like it.
As if that mattered.
And of course now he's too proud to admit he was evidently too drunk to think straight last night, even though all present are well aware of that fact, ta muchly.
Or if they hadn't been, definitely are now.
Quite.
And there the orange beast sits - nay: thrones! - atop his shelves, licking its bollocks - could he be any more obvious? - and smirking at him in the most superior fashion between demonstrative (surely!) licks.
Bollocks, indeed.
Severus says absolutely nothing because he has no words for this.
He simply stands there staring at this...
"Sir?" Miss Granger eventually prompts, and yes, he can feel her anxiousness quite clearly. Had he spotted this travesty even a few minutes before she entered, he'd have undone it. Now... Now, it feels like doing so would be acknowledging his thoroughly unacceptable behaviour from the previous night - and naturally he doesn't just mean this latest assault on his furnishings - and frankly he's been doing his best both to undo things where he can, or should that prove impossible, to ignore it for all he's worth.
That's going swimmingly.
"Did... did you do this for him?"
As she sees it, only four individuals can have. She and Crooks didn't do it. She desperately hopes Sunny hadn't either, and she'd like to reassure herself that he isn't getting into hot water on her behalf. And if it had been the Professor, a notion that's difficult to reconcile with his reaction to the sight of the Crooks on the shelves, then she'd also like to know. To understand. Him.
She's wondering if it's just that Crooks is lounging there, if, perhaps, the Potions Master hadn't realised that something like these ledges isn't simply a means of moving from one point to another or exercising. That half-Kneazles typically do a great deal of lying about. Not unlike the Professor yesterday evening, in fact...
She's had the occasional Butterbeer, but Hermione has never been anything close to as bladdered as he'd been last night. She has some trouble grasping that things people do under the influence don't always make terrific amounts of sense to them when sober.
And that provides the toehold for other thoughts.
What else doesn't he remember or wouldn't he have done?
And if that's the case, if he was non compos mentis what on earth had she done?
It hasn't escaped her that he hasn't acknowledged the way they spent the night.
It's not that she was expecting some great talk or radical changes, on the contrary, she had almost welcomed the fact there hadn't been. It had felt more natural, made it seem less like something she needed to question. Lots. Heaven knows, she's certainly given to that.
But...
If he hadn't been a willing participant, had she forced herself, her attentions on him?
Hermione is perched on the brink of a precipice. She can feel it. If she had considered her thoughts about the Professor and their... relationship in serious disarray before, this eclipses that entirely. Because one thing is for sure: That can't have happened. Can't. Under no circumstances.
She wouldn't do something like that.
Her grip on the miniature phial hanging around her neck tightens until her knuckles turn white. She feels the panic from the evening before creep up on her again, beginning to rise and make her pulse race. The way he had held her last night had allowed her to convince herself that she hadn't behaved... improperly when she applied the Salve to him. But if he has no recollection of these shelves, and she's pretty sure he doesn't...
What she really wants now - more than anything else - frantically is some sign from him, any sign from him, that last night had been consensual. Mutual. And that she hadn't taken still more advantage of his... incapacitation.
She can't help it, she finds herself picturing the look on Crabbe's face as he fished that thrice damned Potion from his robes Friday night and insisted they give it to her... The way he stared at her... She's not like that. She'd never treat someone like that.
Except maybe she has...
She doesn't know how she'll be able to live with herself...
Hermione's thoughts are just beginning to spiral out of control - pity there aren't any books on the topic to be had - and the strength of her feelings crashing through their bond tears Severus from his musings about the shelves.
Well he had proposed she not use the Draught of Peace in chambers...
Bloody Nora.
He has no way of knowing, of course, what she's panicking about, and decides it's in response to the sight of the feline amidst his books. Warranted, no question, but hardly in this extreme.
His first inclination would probably be a few choice, relatively biting words. Merlin knows, he's forced to humour the whims of others often enough, he has little patience for doing so when he needn't. And of course, her ensuing discomfort would distract nicely from his own, which is generally... useful. But he's also a very fast learner, and he knows her agitation telegraphs - most wearingly - across their bond. That thought stays his barbed tongue quite effectively.
Years of abuse at the tip of the Dark Lord's wand have taught him annoyance is a luxury he frequently can't afford, and he's rapidly coming to the conclusion that applies here as well. He's practised enough in the dark arts of appeasement; if it spares him further unpleasantness, then it's most assuredly worthwhile.
He also... appreciates that she respects his space in this much, but clearly it's an overreaction and needs to be nipped in the bud. If only because the bond is going to drive him spare if he doesn't, of course.
He's not sure how to pacify her, particularly as he doesn't think hers is a remotely sensible response to the situation, and a bit awkwardly begins, "The Kneazle..."
"Half-Kneazle," she corrects. Automatically. Because she is not thinking. Or rather, she is, so so so very much, she can't stop, can't stop at all... But none of those eddying thoughts revolve around how to speak to the man looking at her like she's grown another head. Again.
As she now knows, there's actually a spell for that...
She hears herself saying it, 'half-Kneazle', correcting him, and it shocks some sense back into her, because Holy Cricket, is she ever an idiot. She regains awareness of the man and the situation and the fact she's a pedantic little chit of a girl who somehow feels the pressing need to correct any and everyone around her and goodness is she sorry... She stares at him now waiting for the outrage, for him to bite her head (or is that heads?) off with some blistering rebuke. She holds her breath, just waiting for the well deserved explosion...
Severus has no idea what's wrong with the woman and the back and forth of her emotions is frankly a little exhausting, but he also finds her mortification that she'd corrected him quite... satisfying. It placates him in a way apologies couldn't, and is far more persuasive than the open mouthed expression of horror on her face, although that has a certain appeal of its own. In fact, it mollifies him sufficiently that he's able to discover some humour in her response.
He'd meant to calm her down, and that little misstep of hers hasn't deterred him from trying to achieve his goal. If it was expedient only seconds ago, surely it's still expedient now. Even as he thinks it, he senses that probably wouldn't have been the case had the bond not effectively apologised for her, and more eloquently than she ever could have. Where her words would have annoyed him - Merlin knows, they have often enough - her chagrin suits... nicely.
So instead of berating her for her impertinence, he simply drawls, "Was there any question which of the three of us I meant? But by all means, let's add an additional syllable."
She can feel it just as plainly as he felt her contrition. He's not angry. He's... amused. He's teasing her. She begins to relax. But she's not calm, and she's not in control, and she's far from rational, and she decides to press her luck.
And she still really, desperately wants some sign that last night wasn't just down to... her.
So quite logically, or maybe not, she goes on the offensive.
"'Her-mi-on-e'," she ticks the syllables off on her delicate fingers, "'Sev-er-us'," that earns her a blink, brazen thing, "'half-Knea-zle'. Hmm. I think he's entitled to his three syllables too." She stands there, grinning at her cheek, almost breathless, waiting, and he's... He's still not angry. Maybe a little... entertained?
Truthfully, it'll be easier for him to adjust to the situation if he isn't constantly reminded of their different statuses. If she behaves as an equal, it becomes simpler to see her as one, and that should do wonders for his uneasy conscience. Whether he realises it or not, he's predisposed to cooperate with her as long as she doesn't get his dander up. Currently, she's flying under his radar, if only just.
"He's a cat..." he begins dryly, but again she interrupts.
"Don't let him hear you saying that," she warns, half seriously. Which is absurd. Or so Severus believes; but then he's never made an enemy of a feline before.
No, Severus happens to think after sacrificing even more of his, their space and making the damn animal a playground, he should be allowed to call him a 'cat' if he bloody well pleases. And still he keeps his temper.
It's not that he wouldn't usually be annoyed, but he can feel her unwinding. Relaxing. Calming. The... whatever it was seems to be passing and the sensation is... It's better than it was only a matter of moments ago. That's an immediate return on his investment, and he'll continue as he has been, ta. It seems to be working. "My point remains, he's a cat. I'd like to think I'm entitled to more consideration than a cat."
It's so dry it's arid. But what it still isn't is hostile.
"Half-Kneazle," she dares to correct once more, but this time she's grinning a little as she nibbles on her lip, and there's nothing inadvertent about it. Her grasp on her pendant has relaxed, her knuckles no longer bearing testament to her strained nerves, but her fingers keep working the little phial, and there's something... reassuring in the way it clinks softly against her ring. "But in the interests of efficiency, 'Crook-shanks', I believe you'll find, only has two syllables. And 'Crooks' just the one."
"The Kneazle..." he resumes but she gives him a broad smirk, and he finds himself returning it slightly, and then completely forgets the point he was trying to make, as does she.
"Crooks seems to really like them..." She offers a bit shyly when he doesn't continue.
"Hmm." Is his only reply as he watches the beast lick yet more parts of his anatomy shamelessly.
As the Professor hasn't said anything against the elf, or about removing the ledges, Hermione takes the somewhat bold step of thanking him for it, and continues, "This was very considerate. He's never had anything like this. It never even crossed my mind to try something like that at home."
Going a little green around the gills, Severus points out, "That would have been in violation of the Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery. The Improper Use of Magic Office would have taken issue with it if you had." And promptly wishes he hadn't said anything, or better yet, that it hadn't even occurred to him. For fuck's sake.
"Not for the last two summers," she corrects, making the situation only very marginally better and highlighting her nigh ubiquitous tendency towards pedantry in the process. And then she thinks of something else. With a barely suppressed smirk, she strikes a superior pose, not coincidentally all too reminiscent of one of his, and then she gives him one of his best disdainful looks. "And not if we'd used Muggle means."
He blinks once and then rejoins, "Given you hadn't thought of it either and had years to do so..."
She just grins and then laughs. "Your point, I believe." She goes back to nibbling that lip and then continues, "It's marvellous. Thank you."
His lips press together in a thin line. He has no intention of admitting this was a drunken mistake. Ever. Which leaves him with even less room in his, their lounge and dining area than he, they had since the foul compromise on Sunday.
It doesn't help that he's too stubborn to ask Albus for permission to extend the rooms. He prefers real space to magically expanded space, however. It's harder to take away, and he doesn't entirely trust the other stuff around his potions.
No, he's too proud to undo the ruddy shelves, and the thrice damned creature is just sitting there on them, smirking at him, smugly, apparently very much aware of that fact...
Millie rounds the bend and several of the other members of the Slytherin Quidditch team come into sight. Hestia is chatting excitedly with Val about a recent Harpies game, and the sixth year boys are kidding around together, mostly Aaron and Sheldon really, Harper seems sort of dejected. Blaise trails a bit behind the rest, for once appearing a little unsure of himself, and well he might. He's the only one of the seventh year boys present, and he's feeling the cold shoulder the others are giving him. It's not so noticeable when he's with his roommates, they tend to group together anyway, but like this...
Draco will meet them at the pitch. Blaise just hopes he'll have Vince and Gregory with him, too.
Spotting the reserve Beater, Hestia breaks off her conversation with her roommate to ask, "Millie? I thought we were meeting in the changing room? I brought your broom and everything, just like you asked..." She sounds confused and slightly raises the hand holding two brooms to make her point. Much of the team's Quidditch gear - Vince and Gregory's included - is stowed safely in Flora's satchel with the Extension Charm, which her twin now has slung casually over her shoulder. There's something about a broom, though, that has most of them far preferring to carry them themselves. The rest just tend to follow suit.
Ella always says it's because they're so stupid proud of the things. She's not far off. They really do act as something of a badge of honour. See the wizard with the broom over there? He's on the team.
Millie waits where she is until the others draw abreast and then falls into step with the girls. "Minor change of plans," she answers as she accepts her broom from Hestia. "I ran into the Head's bondmate in the library. A bunch of Moggies came in, and the witch nearly jumped out of her skin. Thought, you know, given what you and Tracey had said, I'd best walk her back to his chambers."
"Millie..." Hestia looks at her - sort of funny - and Millie has trouble placing it. "Good on you!" Pride. Well. That was unexpected. Millie tries wrapping her head around that for a moment. "I didn't figure we'd necessarily go that far..."
"Couldn't see any other way to do it really. I mean, yeah, I could have followed her, but honestly? If one of them wanted to start something, they were more likely to do so if I'd done that then if I walked with her, so..." She shrugs.
"No, I think you're absolutely right about that. Thanks for doing it." There had been a chance, of course, that walking with her might have incited the Gryffindorks to act instead, but Hestia hadn't been there to judge the situation and doesn't wish to discourage Millie. And she isn't necessarily wrong; her presence could well have been a deterrent.
"Does she know why you did it?" Val is quick to ask, instantly inundated with visions of the Head's pet Moggie leading them around by their collective noses...
"Don't be silly," Millie gives her one of the patented Bulstrode looks, complete with Snapean brow lift.
Relieved, Val moves on to her next issue, objecting, if only on principle, "We still don't know there's actually a Protection Vow, or what it even does..."
"Ella and Daphne are on it..." Hestia starts to reassure her.
"I'm not so sure about that," Millie interrupts. "Daph said the library had been plucked clean as a Diricawl. Apparently we were too slow."
"Circe's left tit!" Hestia exclaims, but then she can get away with things like that. Millie can't help wondering about Circe's right tit... er, breast sometimes; it seems to go neglected. "It'll have been the damned Turkeys."
"It's not like the Moggies read," Millie is quick to agree, and evidently equally quick to forget the one who'd just taught her a charm from a book she herself had had no real desire to open, let alone read.
"What if they weaponise the Vow?" Harper asks, joining them. Aaron and Sheldon are exchanging hollow threats of which hexes they'd use on each other were they duelling, a game they've played since they were little boys. The problem is Aaron hasn't grown into nearly the same class of wizard that Sheldon has, and he's basically brought a twig to a wand fight, in several regards. Sheldon is good enough not to say so, but listening to them often tries Harper's patience. Today it seems especially strained.
"I don't follow?" Millie asks.
"If you know how the Vow works, access to the witch means control over the Professor," he begins to explain to Millie.
"The boys arrived at the same conclusions then?" Hestia asks him. He nods; if she's asking that, then they seemingly have.
"Don't want to sit through his class? Scare the bondmate." He shrugs. "You get the idea." Millie nods slowly, considering what that might mean for their Head.
"But we still don't know..." Val tries again, but the others have dismissed her concerns. Nothing else makes sense; they're sure he took the Vow.
"We'll have to keep an eye out. I imagine it won't take too long for verification." Hestia is confident.
"Not the way she's been fighting with Snotter and Weasel anyway," Millie agrees.
"How's she been holding up in class?" Hestia wants to know. The others are all sixth years and don't share any with her, and apparently they hadn't been willing to ask Blaise. Millie feels a bit proud that her opinion is being sought, but has to acknowledge she only takes Charms and Defence with her.
"We haven't much overlap. But I guess she's done alright. I don't think I'd have handled it that easily," she reluctantly admits.
"With the exception of the fights with Rotter and the Weasel," Val prompts. "You said so, and we all saw them at lunch yesterday. Merlin."
"Mostly Weasel, I think," she nods.
"If the Ravenclaws figure out how to use the Vow against the Head, how long do you suppose it will take the Moggies to follow suit?" Harper asks, his tone low.
"Merlin's fuzzy bollocks. You're right," Hestia agrees. Harper gives her a tight lipped nod. "We need to make sure they never get their hands on those books."
Millie snorts, immediately wishing she hadn't, but really, "What do you want to do? Keep them checked out for the rest of the year?"
"That's exactly what I want to do. Everyone cycles through them, I return them, you check them out. Basically we assure they never leave the House."
"But if the Turkeys already know..." Val again.
"It's like closing the gate after the Thestrals have left the paddock," Millie agrees.
"You spend too much time with that half-giant," Val tells her.
Millie can't help thinking that's codswallop, which is as good as an affirmative, really. "I was agreeing with you," she simply points out instead, slightly irritated, and Val lets it drop.
"We can't help who knows what now, we can just try to see to limiting it moving forward," Hestia suggests. Harper doesn't look especially optimistic, but then he hasn't the whole walk over to the pitch.
"In other news," Millie starts, with a careful look towards Harper; she'll need to be vague, "I was able to drum up one dose of Pain Relief. I thought probably for Blaise or Draco..." She keeps her voice low, because the Keeper isn't that far behind, and she doesn't mean to involve him in the decision making process.
"Just the one?" Hestia seems disappointed.
"Where'd you get it?" Harper, by contrast, sounds hopeful for the first time.
"Did a deal with some girl from another House," Millie lies easily, picturing Granger-Snape and the Fur Vanishing Charm to lend her tone believability, "but it was all I could get, or I'd have gotten a second." Hestia and Val think they know what she means: Tracey only gave her the one; but Harper deflates again, and the others begin to suspect why.
It's a dangerous game he plays with Vince. And only just last weekend - for a fee - he'd let the boys break his nose in an attempt to score some Pain Relief for them. They can't help thinking there must be easier ways to earn money, but then, none of them had really had any good ideas. Options are pretty limited living in the castle as they do, and Vince already had the Potions market locked down. Had Harper tried to horn in on it... Well, they'd have come to blows over that as well.
"The question now is: Blaise? Or Draco?" Millie asks the group. They look back and forth and then settle on Harper. It should be his call.
"Draco," he answers. Positive. "I'm a better Keeper than I am a Seeker. We need Draco out there." And like that, the matter is settled. Hestia can't help thinking it speaks for him, though, that he hadn't even asked if he could keep the Potion for himself instead. It's not like it was the match...
"Let's get to work on the charms for the windows, shall we?" Severus asks the young woman, recollecting the reason for their meeting. "I still need to tend to a potion before dinner."
Learning new magic is like Kneazle-nip to Hermione and she follows him eagerly to the reading nook where his desk now stands.
They take up position in front of that large expanse of glass that runs the length of the room, from the kitchen along the stretch of the window seat where she'd breakfasted this morning. He lights the room's sconces, not that they're necessary yet but soon will be, and then turns sombrely to her, "I will require an Oath from you that you will not pass these two charms I am about to teach you to anyone else without my express permission."
"Of course," she instantly agrees, doing so, which throws him slightly. And plainly she can tell, because she adds, "You have to keep your House secrets after all." That only confuses him further. Obviously she knows more than he'd have expected about the workings of Slytherin to know that much (he has no way of knowing Hermione had first come to learn of such things from Luna), and if either of the charms were actually House secrets, he couldn't teach those to her either.
But not every question needs an answer and she's given him the Oath he requires and now stands expectantly across from him, and so without further delay, he begins to demonstrate. The appropriate wandstroke, the right incantation, and he's able to darken or lighten the windows on command. Similarly he can make the magical blackout shades (as she's decided to think of them; it's really more a tinting of the glass) open or close immediately or at a specified time, and Hermione learns the different variations with barely contained glee. In the tower, they had natural light as suited the time of day and year. Naturally. Here, she's coming to understand, the setting appears absolute and the cast of the charms alone determines the strength and duration of the light.
"But the light doesn't seem artificial?" She's trying to grasp the underlying concepts.
"Assuming there are external light sources to be found, the Charm acts as a collector."
"And how was I able to see the Giant Squid the other night? Or this morning? At that hour, there shouldn't have been any light to collect. There shouldn't be any now for that matter..." It had been dark outside the library's windows. Here it's bright as day.
The corner of his mouth twitches fractionally upwards in appreciation. She'd been startled by the Squid, but she hadn't failed to observe. "I had to negotiate with the Merpeople to introduce some bioluminescent species for that to work. They emit enough light - without disturbing the local ecosystem - that we were able to greatly extend the daylight hours during the winter months."
"And does it illuminate the exterior area as well?"
"Only in as much as light from any other window to a well lit room would. It doesn't penetrate far into the Lake's murkiness. Were the Squid or Merpeople mere yards away, you wouldn't be able to see them, and they remain undisturbed by the light in turn, or no more so than had we solely employed sconces."
"And sleep cycles? Wouldn't the excess light affect them negatively? Particularly if it has some of the natural blue tones of daylight? Shouldn't that affect the circadian rhythm?"
"If you set the Brightness Charm within a time span, it fades, darkening towards the end. Otherwise you wouldn't need times on both charms." She blushes, because she'd wondered about the redundancy, but hadn't considered the possible reason for it; she was just too focused on mastering the Charm. He's good enough not to rub it in. Frankly he's somewhat impressed that she knows about these things at all (and also doesn't argue the point about diurnal rhythms or broach zeitgebers), but then that's the difference two parents who've been through medical school will have made for her. The typical witch or wizard who learns about such subjects (not that that's at all typical) wouldn't do so until pursuing further training, post Hogwarts, in Potions or Healing. "You'll notice it's dimmer here now than it was this morning."
Well, now that he mentions it, she does. She blushes anew, and he doesn't belabour the point. "Can I make it fade in, too?"
"If you'd like. Again, you need only set a starting time on the Brightness. I prefer not to, and let it start full strength to serve as a failsafe alarm clock. You needn't feel pressured to do the same."
She'd never have thought it possible that the dungeons could be brighter than the tower, but the proof is before her.
The Brightness Charm she's currently learning, not that Severus mentions it, is one of his own. The original Charm for the dungeon windows had effectively been glorified curtains, and exists in a modified form to the present day. It's not a House secret only because the students are never taught it. The Head of House sets the Curtaining Charm to eliminate any arguments on the settings, a quite sensible precaution in the shared rooms of magical, hex happy teenagers, and particularly on the windows of said rooms when they're located so far underwater. Later developments had added a second charm to the first to make it brighter - quite reasonably, the dungeons are underwater after all - but never like his had, his had gone far beyond that. And then introducing the extra external light sources... It had been the literal difference between night and day.
He knows he's showing off, but the way she beams as he does has him wanting to continue. It's not that he receives any praise for it - how could he when she doesn't know it's his - but then he usually doesn't and thinks he no longer needs that. Much. But this is open appreciation for something he's done, something he's made, and it's... nice.
He hasn't shared this particular improvement with his students. They've profited from the bioluminescent plants, of course. But applying this version of the Charm in the dorms would once again demonstrate to exactly the people he very much needs to keep in the proverbial (and apparently literal) dark just how good he is. He's hardly done anything publicly along those lines since school. He can't afford to. So having someone standing there, sincerely singing the praises of his work, with no possible ulterior motive?
That's his Kneazle-nip.
As he teaches her the Charms, he grudgingly has to admit she learns quickly; she's evidently more of a natural with a wand than a potion. He'd always found her... wanting in his subject. She's technically flawless, but there had been no drive to experiment. Passive interest, surely, but no active curiosity. No desire to venture off the overly trodden path. No intuition. No... flare. It had been frankly frustrating, at times, to hear her skills continually, universally praised, while many of his deserving Snakes went... overlooked. Ignored.
Draco and Miss Flora Carrow were absolute delights to behold both with knives and their handling of ingredients. Miss Carrow, in particular, probably had the greenest thumb in the House; she was truly a natural. They, Miss Davis, Miss Wilkins and Hutchinson had shown insights into the constituent ingredients that had them preparing elixirs outside of the usual fare. And yet all five of them were thoroughly overshadowed by Miss Granger's reputation, and Severus had sadly never found her more than... adequate at the subject. Which is unfair, absolutely, as technically 'flawless' should - objectively - indeed be better than 'adequate'. But truthfully, she'd scarcely been better than Zabini. Not bad, not bad at all, but hardly inspired. But then the other teachers had always been so disinclined to hear his praises for members of his House that he'd long since stopped trying... There was no point.
He has to wonder, however, had he been in a position to provide the young woman beside him with a bit of instruction, encouragement, and had she been in a position to wish to accept it, if she mightn't have achieved... more.
Watching her cast the first of the Charms near perfectly on the second attempt, he does begin to understand why Filius and Minerva are so enamoured of the witch.
Of course, it's the same underlying skill set; she's good - very good - at reproducing what she sees, but there's no more intuition or flare involved here than he'd bemoaned in her Potions work. It would seem he's less judgmental about that when it isn't his field.
He contemplates it for a few minutes as he observes her, carefully marshalling his thoughts within narrow bounds before deciding there are far worse traits to have in a bondmate. No, presumably that could prove advantageous - always assuming he can bring her to trust his instructions. Of course, considering what he knows will be coming, and soon, what he's sworn to do to Albus...
Even were they to reach such an arrangement, it wouldn't be likely to last.
Hermione makes excellent progress, essentially it's only two charms to learn, both with a variety of modifiers. Just like the Reparo can be applied to mend different objects, the invocation of different times or degrees of brightness or the starting and stopping prefixes changes the effects of these charms. Soon she has the first, the Curtaining Charm, mastered, the second more than rudimentarily down. He gives her an appraising look, nods slightly, possibly, just possibly with a hint of approval and says, "I think we're about done here. You may continue to practise on your own."
"I can't do anything wrong with the Brightness Charm? Break a window? Cause a leak?" Just the sight of all the water outside has her nervous at the thought.
That gets her one of those raised brows. "Rest assured, you cannot. Flooding the dungeons was something I was very keen to avoid, you may be certain of that." Which of course tells her it was his Charm, were she to think it through, but she unfortunately misses it. As concentrated as she is on her work, that doesn't come as much of a surprise. More surprising is why he'd have let something like that slip...
"I'd ask that you not change the settings here in the lounge without at least mentioning it to me first, however. I do rely on the light for an approximate feel of the time."
"Of course, absolutely, I wouldn't dream of it," she rushes to assure him, the words tumbling out of her.
"You're welcome to do as you please in your room, obviously..."
Which is when it dawns on her that he's been teaching her the charms for use in her room all along, they had even spoken about it, but chosen to carry out the actual lesson on the windows he'd prefer her to leave be... She concludes that he's trying to avoid her room. Her bedroom. It's not that he'd have had to teach her there - clearly - because he hadn't to no one's detriment, and perhaps it's just a question of what he deems propriety... But she's left with the suspicion that he's uncomfortable with the room, her room and choosing to avoid it.
She can't decide if that's funny or just worrisome, especially in light of her earlier concerns.
"Will you still have time for me to teach you the Automagic Fur Banishing Charm, or do you need to see to that potion?" She asks, still eager to show him what she'd found for him.
Severus performs a Tempus to see how they're fixed for time, almost as if to prove he'd meant it about the charmed windows providing only an 'approximate' feel for it. She'd done better than he planned - far better, not that he intends to mention that - and there should be no difficulty fitting that in.
"After you," he says simply in reply, gesturing towards the kitchen and the bowl he assumes she'd already used the Spell on. Hermione leads him into the kitchen, where she's startled, and more than a little dismayed, to find the bowl she'd charmed to collect Crooks' fur quite empty. The fact he'd pointed her in that direction should tell her she needn't worry, but that's not how she's used to thinking - yet - and she's still too apprehensive about her performance.
"I'm sorry," she tells him, rather embarrassed as she tips the bowl to look at it more closely, "I guess I'm not sure it's working properly after all."
"Ah," Severus thinks he understands the problem, but has no desire to explain he'd Banished the fur to Crabbe's bed. "I already collected that bit. It worked perfectly," he assures her, and she's back to beaming at him. It's a remarkably simple result to achieve, he muses.
Hermione wastes no time showing him how to apply the Charm himself. Somewhat annoyingly, Hermione can't help feeling, he's actually performed it perfectly on the first attempt, but then there are advantages to decades of learning spells. Parroting what's before him isn't the issue. It's another thing altogether to memorise Spells and add them to one's active repertoire.
He Summons a small piece of parchment, a quill and inkpot, not the Selkies' Silken Signatures for a change, and jots a note for the Spell in his own shorthand. He'll enter it into his notebook later. That seems like too private a thing to do in front of an audience, bonded or not.
Hermione watches him make notes, which strikes her as odd given how easily he'd reproduced it. He catches her looking and says, "It's always good to have something to refer to. There are enough things you'll be forced to remember, there's no need to make matters more complicated by not taking adequate notes." He smirks as he says it, aware of the irony in telling her that. But he noticed she hadn't made any notes on the spells he'd taught her, concentrating fully on his tutelage instead and trusting to her memory, at least for the moment.
Hermione pulls a piece of parchment from her stack of books, thinking to follow his example; he hands her his quill and ink even before she can Summon hers. She smiles her thanks and begins to note down the charms he'd taught her. Her notation style looks suspiciously like his own, he obeserves as he folds and pockets his bit of vellum.
Severus meanwhile performs the Fur Banishing Charm again, double-checking. The flare of his wand has the correct colour and properties, confirmation once more that it would have been effective had he cast it with a specific goal in mind.
He nods his satisfaction. He means to set the Charm to automatically send the fur to Crabbe's bed once she's gone. It wouldn't do for her to know where it's going.
He gives it some thought. This Charm only works to gather the hairs the half-Kneazle loses in their chambers. He can think of wider applications. He waits for Miss Granger to finish her own notes and hand him back his quill and ink, and then he asks, "I don't suppose in the course of your studies you came across a Charm to collect - or Vanish for that matter - all lost hair from a given creature that wasn't specific to an area? So perhaps not Kneazles in general, but a targeted creature, say your half-Kneazle," she smiles at that, "in particular, and in any location, and not just our chambers?"
Her smile may have broadened at the 'our chambers' too, before it dawns on her what he's asking. She's already gone through those books twice now. "You couldn't have mentioned this before? So I could research this all in one go?"
She sounds exasperated, which amuses him a little, but he answers openly, "I'm afraid it only just occurred to me. And it's not as though we know that there is such a Charm..."
"And we won't until I've looked for it. Fine, I'll see what I can find. As long as we have the books here anyway..." This time she'll start with that horribly written book she'd kept saving for last, she decides as she folds up her piece of parchment and puts it with her texts.
"Thank you, I'd appreciate it." He sounds like he might actually mean it, and just like that, she stops feeling exasperated. And then he smirks, "Failing to find it isn't proof there isn't one, by the way. You can only prove it's existence, not a negative existential claim of that nature."
Hermione stares at him. And then stares some more. His smirk grows broader. "Not unless you've read every tome and reliably interrogated every witch and wizard on the planet," he adds, less than helpfully.
And then she begins to laugh. "With Veritaserum, no doubt?"
"It would make for a good start, irrefutably, but not account for acquired tolerance, allergies or any prophylactic use of the antidote," he nods sagely. It serves her right for crossing wands and words with a Potions Master on the subject. "So sadly, that's also not definitive." And yet - so strangely - he doesn't appear sad in the least. No, his smirk is even more pronounced.
She laughs some more. "I'm pretty sure you just stole my line."
"I imagine that's what happens when you leave it lying about," he's teasing her because he can, it's what he does, and she hasn't crumbled yet, pleasantly enough. But oddly at this, she has a strange turn.
She's still standing there by her pile of books on the island, and she'd very much left them and her robe just 'lying about' after resolving to keep things as neat as possible in their shared space. She feels guilty enough about that that she immediately becomes concerned there might have been some veiled meaning there. She quickly gathers her things and Banishes them to her room with a few muttered words of apology. "I didn't mean to clutter things up."
It earns her a funny look, mostly because she seems utterly oblivious to the mound of presents she'd left on the table behind her. Ah. Beyond the apparent need for 'Thank You' cards, that is. Yes, their table is completely lost to sight, but the books were a bridge too far...
"I hadn't said a word about your texts," he drawls.
Which brings them nicely back to where they were before. She regains her footing a little and tries to continue as they had been, "Nice to know I don't have the market on pedantry cornered?" It's slightly tentative, but preferable, on balance, to the feeling he's sharing the flat with a child. He takes it at face value.
"Oh not at all. There would seem to be more than enough to go around." She can tell he's back to teasing her, and it seems strange, but she finds that... comforting. The tension from only a moment ago dissipates. She breathes more easily, her hand back at the little phial hanging around her neck.
They've accomplished what they set out to, and yet they're still standing here.
So obviously she decides to push her luck once more...
(no subject)
Date: 2019-04-21 08:38 pm (UTC)Oh my god, Hermione! She just cannot help herself, can she? But she's met her match, the other most pedantic person on the planet - Swotty bliss! hahaaa Their interaction over the syllables was downright adorable, not that either of them would like to hear that. And Crooks, lording it over his glorious domain, having completely conquered his new wizard. Honestly, the world's biggest most elaborate cat run? Oh Severus, please come to my house and do the same thing to my bookshelves!
I really love all the characters in this story. They are so incredibly nuanced, every last one of them and it makes them all so interesting. Even Vincent.
Harper's revelation (to me at least) that if one has access to the witch it could mean control over Snape - I love that the Slytherins always seem to look at every angle, nothing is too small to take note of. They are probably more aware than half the Gryffindors that Hermione is on the outs with the Weasel and Rotter/Snotter. (Such perfect nicknames)
I am so worried about Harper and his upcoming beat down by Vince. I hope his lightweight protego will do the trick!
And now Hermione is pushing her luck. Well, of course she is. And of course I have to read on and find out what she does!
xoxoxo
(no subject)
Date: 2019-04-23 01:34 am (UTC)I have just been waiting for you to get to this chapter. (Severus is so pwned.) 😊 You know Crooks has to come out on top.
Thanks! They may not all be the nicest of people, but they should at least have reasons for sucking when they do.
(Hunter renames Ron tonight and it sticks for a while. I like that they let the younger kids have a say if the input is better.) Harper has to look at angles more than most, just like Tracey. They aren’t as well positioned as most of the others (him because of poverty, her because she’s ‘only’ a half-blood and not well connected or well to do), so they need to be more aware, more cautious.
Daph would be sad if he got too badly mangled, so obviously that can’t happen. (Sad Daphnes are had to take.)
She Hermiones him. As she does...
(no subject)
Date: 2019-04-27 11:57 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2019-05-06 11:44 am (UTC)the library(pish tosh. They’d have the book themselves of course...) back in quarters pulling the book to prove their points...(no subject)
Date: 2020-09-27 05:45 am (UTC)