“beyond wandpoint” 110 by gingerbred
May. 2nd, 2019 06:56 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
beyondwandpoint“11 12w Wednesday - Unwrapping”
Severus, Hermione, Slytherins: Draco, Theo Nott, Blaise Zabini, Vincent Crabbe, Gregory Goyle, Daphne Greengrass, Tracey Davis, Millicent Bulstrode, Harper Hutchinson, Hestia Carrow
Originally Published: 2019-05-02 on LJ / DW
Chapter: 110
Characters:
Severus (HoS, Potions), Hermione 7G (Prefect, Supreme Swot)
Slytherins: Draco 7S (Prefect, Team Captain, Seeker, Swot), Theo Nott 7S (Swottiest, Nervous Wreck), Blaise Zabini 7S (Keeper (but only in the Quidditch sense...)), Vincent 'Vince' Crabbe 7S (Beater, ex-Winged Couch Potato), Gregory Goyle 7S (Beater), Daphne Greengrass 7S (Sparkly! Fwoopers!), Tracey Davis 7S (Swottier), Millicent 'Millie' Bulstrode (Reserve Beater, yes, that.), Harper Hutchinson 6S (Prefect, Chaser, flash Robe Model), Hestia Carrow 6S (Chaser, sporty twin)
Mentioned briefly: Slytherins: Ella Wilkins 6S (Prefect), Flora Carrow 6S (friendly twin), Hunter Hutchinson 4S (Imp, one third of the Trio of Terror), Others: Crookshanks 'Crooks' (Hermione's half-Kneazle), Sunny (the Snapes' house elf), Crankshaft (Harper’s half-Kneazle), Shawshank (the Shafiqs’ half-Kneazle), Maleficent (Millie’s Maine Coon)
Previously:
Draco is the only one of the boys left with memories of the assault on Hermione. (004) To ensure Hermione wouldn’t have to face Draco in class before the bonding is announced, believing that will provide some protection for her, Severus and Sunny send Draco tumbling down the Grand Staircase, severely injuring him in the process. (And if it happened to feel like Severus was obtaining some measure of revenge in the process, he certainly isn’t above that sort of thing...)(Revealed 039)
Draco assumes Harry and Ron are behind the fall. In a bid to convince the appropriate parties that he doesn’t take abuse lying down, Draco antagonises Hermione in the Great Hall after the bondings are announced. (053) Severus deals with him summarily, Crucioing Draco in the Transfiguration Classroom in front of Hermione. (054) He discusses the necessity of those actions with her afterwards before he leaves for the Manor Monday evening. (055)
There Severus reports the bonding and the boys’ actions to You-Know-Who, and joy of joys, Bellatrix is permitted to Crucio Severus for his pains. He returns to the castle in very poor shape. Sunny, so oddly, fetches Hermione instead of just helping Severus himself, and she does what she can for him before having the elf take them to the Infirmary’s private room. (057)
While Vince is still communing with one of the common room couches Wednesday morning, wings flapping overhead, Gregory gets permission from him to take a Wit-Sharpening Potion from his chest for Draco. (091)
Tracey decides she needs to have a word (or seventeen; it’s Arithmantically sound after all) with Harper about the boys’ behaviour. (093)
Covered in the infamous skin irritant, Universal Solvent, Vince unexpectedly lands in Gregory’s lap Wednesday morning, causing him to react to the stuff as well. Severus, unable to resist an opening, so considerately tidies Goyle up with the Freshening Charm that makes him... ‘floof’. (095)
Sunny collects all the potions from the seventh year boys’ room for Severus to inspect. The Potions Master impounds a few and can’t identify three others immediately, and has Sunny replace them with dummies that look very much the same until he can make an better informed decision in the matter. (097)
Believing the Infirmary to be out of Pain Relief thanks to Poppy’s protracted ruse, Flora and Tracey brew the Potion during lunch Wednesday. (098)
Under false pretences, Millie manages to get a single dose of Pain Relief from Tracey for their seventh year Quidditch players. (102) Harper is consulted on the matter, and although he’d very much like some himself, he suggests they give it to Draco. (103)
Tori tells Daphne about the tail Gregory was suddenly sporting today at lunch, and it’s caught her interest, fuelling her rather vivid imagination. (105)
Draco’s, Blaise’s and Theo’s dinners are cut short by some... enthusiastic Spellwork on their Housemates’ parts. (106)
Tracey has taken her seat next to Daphne, and the girls are going over their notes for Transfiguration tomorrow. Daph seems especially keen to have everything done as well as they possibly can. Apparently there’s a new subject related question bouncing around her fluffy little brain that she just needs to know the answer to, and she’s eager to make the best possible impression. As though that might render Professor McGonagall more likely to impart the information... Tracey is sceptical, but she’s just happy Daph’s moved on from the Great Fwooper Quest for once.
Still, it’s always strange when the brunette becomes the more studious of the two. Tracey has very firm ideas as to their roles, and it feels like Daph’s encroaching on her territory. She’s not worried, though. Daph won’t be competing for the same apprenticeships. It’s unclear if she’ll even be permitted to pursue one at all, and if she does, it wouldn’t be in the same field or even in the same countries. Tracey has no intention of remaining in Britain during the upcoming troubles. And realistically, whatever this Tail Spell is that has Daph so curious, chances are good it won’t be long until it’s forgotten and she’s right back to chasing Fwoopers.
Unless this is all somehow Fwooper related in her mind...
With Daphne that’s always a possibility. She sees supposed connections that most are hard pressed to follow. Every now and again Tracey has to wonder if the witch might just be right, at least some of the time... The fact it always comes back to those utterly stupid, thoroughly useless birds (albeit colourful, which was apparently the point) has a way of keeping Tracey from pursuing that line of thought for very long.
She’s kept an eye out for Harper as they work. She means to have a word with him about the boys’... excessiveness in hexing Vince this morning. She never questions that the boys had been responsible; that much seemed clear. The stitched lips alone all but guaranteed it. Equally clear is that they’d caused the Head more work in the process. That’s not on. Word is Gregory had had to watch his first period Potions class for him. That pretty much says it all, if the Professor felt he had to resort to such rash measures. Gregory. He’s a lamb, he really is, but he’s about as far from a dab hand at potions as anyone could possibly be.
They need to see that something like this doesn’t happen again. It was bad enough members of their House had somehow gotten the Head bonded. They certainly don’t need to aggravate matters on top of that.
When Tracey spots Vince and Gregory headed back to the boys’ wing, the thought occurs to her that Harper might be hiding, or at least lying low. If there are three people who are likely to know where he is, it would be Hunter, Ella and Daphne. Hunter won’t tell Tracey anything on principle, of course. He’ll be too worried he’s overlooked some threat and keep mum. Daph will just die of embarrassment and stutter and be mortified to admit she knows, which she very probably does if she’d been in the vicinity. But Ella, Ella is likely to be reasonable. And more to the point, asking her is more likely to be fruitful.
“Daph, would you be alright working on your own for a bit?”
“Oh, sure, Tracey. I just wanted to run over my answers for tomorrow one more time...”
“That would be the third time you’ve checked them...” Tracey feels compelled to point out and now sort of wishes Daph had started without her after all.
“It’s Arithmantically sound?” Comes the hopeful sounding reply.
It gets her a smile and a chuckle. Of the two of them, that argument was far more likely to come from Tracey. “So is one, and you could have saved yourself the extra effort.
“Fine, suit yourself. I shouldn’t be long,” Tracey assures her before seeking out Ella.
Just as she thought, Ella knows exactly where Harper is: the Kneazle habitat. It was brilliant really, and Tracey can’t believe she hadn’t thought to look for him there. Smarter than he looks, that one. She thanks Ella and goes to join him.
When Hestia notices Vince entering the boys’ dorms, she recalls how Harper had responded to the lack of additional Pain Relief Potion earlier. Hmm. And then she thinks about how he hadn’t tried to convince them to give him Draco’s dose. ‘Hmm’ some more. She’d felt a little guilty about that.
Well, Flora had helped brew the stuff just his afternoon, hadn’t she, so who better to ask for some?
The answer to that is apparently ‘Tracey’, as Flora soon tells her. It seems the seventh year is in charge of dispensing the Potion. Flora was less likely to refuse her, of course, but Hestia has no qualms about asking Tracey. Merlin, she might even go so far as to tell her why she wants it.
No, that’s not the difficulty. The difficulty would be Tracey is making a beeline for the Kneazle room, and she’s got that look...
Bugger.
Draco, somewhat understandably still hungry after his spoilt meal - it’s as though the stars had aligned to ensure he never gets a decent meal into himself ever again lately - has helped himself to some of Gregory's snacks. His decidedly healthy snacks. A misadventure with tainted sweets in second year had put Gregory permanently off the things, the demands of his fitness regime had done the rest. No stash of Honeydukes’ finest in his bedside table, sadly enough. Draco will have to see to laying some in for himself, just in case this keeps up.
He’s finding the Muscley Müsli bar less satisfying than he’d have expected considering his hunger. He’d almost be willing to wager it may consist primarily of poorly Transfigured sawdust. That’s if anyone had bothered to Transfigure it at all; off the texture, it seems rather unlikely. Presumably it was something more nutritive, however, Gamp’s laws and Gregory’s priorities being as they are...
Draco offers some to the others. Theo claims he’d had enough to eat at dinner, which he might have done, but Blaise is a different story. Sure, he insists his tongue still hurts (thankth anyway, D’aco), but the way he’s eyeing the dust dry snack Draco’s struggling to swallow has the blond thinking Blaise has tried one before and won’t be making that mistake again anytime soon. What they really need is a charm to land the food right in their stomachs...
With reasoning all too typical of many of their peers at Hogwarts, Draco justifies his pilfering with the seriously questionable argument that if Gregory had wanted those snacks for himself, he'd have placed wards... Less typical, of course, is the fact Draco fully intends to reimburse Gregory for whatever he takes - he’s a reasonable Slytherin after all; anything else would lead to a senseless free for all, and they need all the allies they can get - he simply hadn’t felt like obtaining permission first. He also hadn’t been willing to risk a refusal. It’s better to ask forgiveness... Or buy it if need be...
That sort of thinking, naturally, is all part and parcel of what landed them in their current mess.
Some people aren’t quick to learn.
The Prefect hastily pops the last of the snack in his mouth as their missing roommates enter. Theo rolls his eyes a little at that, Blaise just chuckles. That gets him a suspicious look from Vince, but Draco deflects nicely by settling accounts for the Wit-Sharpening Potion from this morning. That’s one debt absolved, at least.
Gregory is soon similarly sorted, but seems puzzled as to precisely when his snacks disappeared. He’s a little indignant to learn that he’d just missed their consumption. (Blaise, the old shit-stirrer, had naturally been only too happy to volunteer that bit of information.) He’d have given them to Draco had he only been asked... Gregory complains. Draco maintains he was quite sure of that (which may or may not be true), which is why he’d helped himself. (That’s patently false.) The discussion that ensues provides a diversion for Vince to take care of something vital.
”I mean, you didn’t even stop to ask how I’m doing first...”
“Gregory, there is no way I’m asking ‘how’s your arse?’”
“Much better, thanks for asking...”
“I didn’t ask,” Draco insists, and Blaise chuckles. Theo does his best to look neutral, with quite some success.
“The Liquid Skin really works a treat...” Gregory assures them, and looks about ready to drop his trousers and provide them with visual proof of that assertion.
“I don’t want to know...” All three boys now look rather uncomfortable as they contemplate just why the Potion had been needed. Merlin’s fuzzy ballsack...
The mention of the Wit-Sharpening Potion had called something to mind for Vince, and he kneels now in front of his chest, doing a quick inventory of his potions stock. He has two excellent reasons for doing so. The first, he'd given Gregory permission to fetch the Potion this morning, hadn't been in great shape at the time, and wants to know it had gone as expected. The fact Gregory hasn't been treated for serious burns on his hands, merely for a reaction to the Universal Solvent - well, that and the problem with his bollocks - would seem to indicate that it had worked. Intent is everything, because Vince’s magic definitely won’t have been up to snuff when he’d granted access to his trunk.
Of course, that doesn’t mean he hadn’t accidentally given his roommate permission to rob him blind. That needs checking.
The second reason, however, is problematic.
In fact, that’s probably understating it.
Greatly.
Vince has a bad feeling about why they might be considered to be to blame for the Head's bonding, especially now that a Mudblood has withdrawn from school. Mid-term. In her final year. None of that was reassuring in light of his suspicions.
A quick counting of phials reveals that one is missing which he can’t account for.
From Vince’s viewpoint, the missing potion leaves two options. Possibly Gregory had taken it this morning. Or it’s somehow wrapped up in the memories they all seem to be missing from Friday night.
Watching Gregory - the would-be Puffskein farmer - quibble with Draco over the snack snatching... It seems highly unlikely he’s the one behind this. A phial of Liquid Lust? Gregory wasn’t likely to want one, and had he done so, Vince would have sold it to him without hesitation or question. There’d been no need to take it. Gregory can afford it. Things aren’t that tight for the Goyles. It’s not as though his family’s assets had been seized, or his father had landed in Azkaban...
And in light of how... well that particular Potion would fit into a narrative explaining their... responsibility for the bonding...
Merlin’s. Bleeding. Bollocks.
Which as expletives go, has taken on new, more gruesome meaning after Gregory’s mishap this afternoon...
Severus had had Sunny leave a replacement for every potion he’d retained, and the elf hadn’t made any errors. He rarely does. The problem, obviously, is that there was a potion Vince can no longer remember dispensing, and it quite logically hadn’t been there when Sunny collected the potions this morning for him to think to leave something in its place.
How could the loyal little elf have known?
Severus hadn’t even identified it yet at that point. There had been no way to guess its absence would want for an explanation. The Legilimency he’d performed on the boys Friday while only barely remaining upright? It certainly hadn’t addressed the potion dealing he hadn’t even suspected at that time...
No, this had probably been unavoidable...
Vince sits there staring dumbly into the trunk, resolved not to mention this to the others just yet. He needs more information before he exposes himself like this. In potions questions, just as he’s the one to come to for necessary supplies, he’s pretty sure he’ll be the one they blame.
Worse, as he considers his roommates’ characters contrasted with his own, they might even be right to do so, and then where would he be? Would it have occurred to any of them to use the recreational Potion maliciously? Offensively?
Worse yet, the thought dawns, the Head may blame him as well...
He contemplates just how royally buggered he is...
Gregory spots Vince by his chest and guesses, more or less correctly, what his friend is doing, even if he couldn’t begin to presume why. “I only took the one,” he’s quick to reassure Vince, slightly put out that anyone could think he’d have taken more. His name isn’t ‘Malfoy’, after all...
Vince shakes himself out of it, eager not to draw any unwanted attention to himself and his potions just yet, although Draco already has a pretty good idea as to what Vince has just realised. “No, I know, Gregory. No worries. I was just trying to think what I need to order in.” Inventory sounds dead boring. Potions inventory only sounds worse. And just like that, Gregory loses all interest in what his friend is doing.
Vince rises, and is about to sit on his bed when he draws his wand and performs the Spell Millie had just taught him. It works like a charm. “No more Kneazle fur,” he explains to the others. At least not for the moment. He can’t help feeling that Draco is watching him appraisingly, and tries to redirect his attention.
“I can’t work like this. If we’re stuck in here, I need something to write on. Theo, would you mind?” Vince asks their taciturn roommate, endeavouring to sound as unconcerned as he possibly can.
Theo likes being useful and in no time he’s Transfigured a sheet of parchment into a lap desk for Vince. He follows with a second for Gregory, “Sorry, I should have realised...”
“Thanks, mate,” comes Gregory’s cheery response. Unlike some people, he doesn’t seem to feel it’s Theo’s job to ensure his needs are met. Which isn’t to say it wasn’t brilliant, really. Gregory is pants at Transfiguration.
They begin to settle in to do their homework, and Draco asks Gregory if he’d mind putting together a fitness plan for the Quidditch team’s reserve members. “If today proves anything, it’s that we need them fit to play.”
Today had proved all kinds of things, really, but thinking about Quidditch is probably the best option of the bunch. Gregory is dead chuffed at the idea, absolutely thrilled. It’s far more interesting than his preparations for Care of Magical Creatures, anyway - Skrewts again? What was Hagrid thinking? - and he immediately volunteers to work with the others, one on one.
Draco has to break it to him that his assistance, their assistance is probably no longer welcome. “We need this, they need it, but I don’t think they’ll use the suggestions if they know it’s coming from us. Put a plan together, would you, and I’ll see about getting it to them, alright?”
Looking a good deal less happy about that, Gregory nevertheless knuckles down and gets to work, but something tells him this term could get pretty lonely.
Millie plays with Maleficent for a little while in an effort to try to make up for Vince having practised on her, charming away her loose fur. The cat is in a right mood. Thinking about it, Millie can kind of get it. Who’d like that? Maleficent had looked a bit like Gregory had this morning when the Professor used whatever Cleansing Charm it was on him. It wasn’t a great look on her friend; it was a far worse look on her cat. No matter how many times Millie tosses her the ball of wool, Maleficent just refuses to bite. Metaphorically speaking, of course. Maleficent is naturally far more likely to scratch than bite, not unlike Millie herself.
Millie finally accepts that she won’t be making any progress this way, but she has an idea. First and foremost, she thinks Malley is bored, and there’s a perfectly good cure for that in House. She grabs her Care of Magical Creatures text and cat heads for the playroom. It's such a shame their room doesn't have direct access to it... Of course, nothing stops her cat from entering a room that does, really, but the witch doesn't think of it, and the feline vastly prefers having Millie cater to her needs to doing it on her own.
She is a cat after all.
“Harper, we need to speak.” Tracey comes barrelling towards him. Harper find himself extremely hard pressed to recall a time those words hadn’t signalled something unwelcome. No. They never end well.
“What can I do for you?” He leans into the turn. And she proceeds to explain in no uncertain terms just how unacceptable the boys’ behaviour towards Vince had been last night. Harper may have chuckled at the thought of Vince’s wings, fair dinkum, but that only makes the diminutive blonde redouble her efforts. Soon she’s poking that finger of hers with all the force she can muster into his chest. There’s no way she isn’t using some kind of charm for that, and Harper responds by using the opportunity to practise his weak Protego.
That works amazingly well, from the look of things, although there had been a moment initially when it must have been too strong and she looked puzzled at the sensation. Harper thinks he has the hang of it now. Merlin, if he’d known he had this in store for him, he could have spared Hunter the test run...
Any attempt on Harper’s part to try to convince her he isn’t his Housemates’ keeper falls on deaf ears. His attempt at humour - no, I’m their Chaser - doesn’t get even the hint of a reaction, and he considers if he’s been spending too much time around easy audiences that happen to like him. Tracey, for one, doesn’t appear to just at the moment. Next he tries random conciliatory noises, they don’t work either, which makes sense, really, as they were utterly hollow and Tracey isn’t some benighted fool. It was why he hadn’t led with them to begin with.
There’s nothing much he can say here. The others will listen to him some, but that only goes so far. If anything, they were used to listening to Draco, and it’s not as though they weren’t prepared to turn on him now they feel they have cause. Harper hasn’t really had time to establish himself in his new role. And if he overreaches, things will only get worse.
He’s not in charge and this wasn’t his responsibility.
Slowly but surely, Tracey seems to be accepting that she may not appreciate what happened, but Harper agrees with her and will do what he can to intervene. She’s castigating the choir.
“Tracey, nothing is stopping you from telling them that directly if you feel this strongly about.” She disagrees, but won’t say so. It had been difficult enough to express her opinions in a politically neutral fashion to the girls. They were more inclined to hear what she was saying. The boys... She’s not convinced she’ll manage to keep her opinions sufficiently under wraps... “In fact, I’d appreciate it,” he insists. “I can use all the help I can get.”
She thinks he means it.
It’s hard to say where Harper falls. He isn’t interested in the Death Eaters or their cause, of that much she’s certain, but he and his family are even more poorly connected than hers is, and she knows he won’t be disappearing to the continent at the first chance. He’d never leave Hunter. She wouldn’t, she couldn’t swear that he wouldn’t take an offer from You-Know-Who’s people were it only attractive enough.
He may be in a worse position to try to dictate his Housemates’ behaviour then she is.
The wind has just about gone out of Tracey’s sails when the door to the habitat opens and Millie walks in, depositing Maleficent on the floor. Malley races off to chase after Crankshaft and Shawshank. The Maine Coon is every bit as large as a Kneazle and easily gives them a run for their Galleons; the half-Kneazles’ mother is a much smaller cat. Crankshaft dashes to hide behind Harper, which is when Millie finally notices him standing behind one of the climbing trees.
“Oh, Harper! There you are! Vince was looking for you...” And just like that, the witch is gone again.
Harper sinks to the ground with a groan.
Hermione folds her notes on the Charms she’s learnt today in two and makes a print of the stamp on the outside, reserving a copy for herself in that way. It earns her a funny look, as she studies it again. Now that she’s no longer scandalised by the idea of an inflammatory ‘thank you’ card - it had seemed to rather defeat the purpose - she can look at it more objectively.
He’s captured her quite nicely, which strikes her as kind. She’s there in the blouse she’s currently wearing, and whether deliberate or not, he’s depicted her hair with the waterfall break Madam Pomfrey had charmed on Sunday. Hermione had liked it, she thinks, looking at the card. It had flattered her. She has to wonder, in passing, if he’d liked it, too. Her teeth begin working her lip at the thought, and she barely notices she’s reaching for the phial at her neck again.
Perhaps it had just been too difficult to capture her unruly mane in the medium... That seems more likely.
He raises his wand, points it at the stamp, prepares to perform the ‘Finite Incantatem’ to reduce it to parchment once more, and just in time she realises what he means to do. “Wait!” She cries out, her hand shooting up without thinking to grab his arm. “You can’t destroy that...”
“You didn’t mean to keep it?”
She blushes and puts it with her things, “That’s what Reducios are for...” The stamp and seal soon join it. “It was my parchment anyway,” she mumbles under her breath as though it might justify the response or, more ludicrously, as if he’d begrudge her parchment of his after everything else she’s taken from him this week. This list thereof strikes her as exceptionally long...
“You don’t think you have enough... things?” He asks. A Niffler. She’s a ruddy Niffler. Again he indicates the assorted items on the table. It dawns on her that he really doesn’t seem to think it was meant for the both of them, which might help explain some of his reaction to them in the first place.
She decides to help him along and holds up the Firewhisky. Even he must realise no one could have ever intended it for her. And Professor Taylor barely knows her. If indeed one of them had been singled out, then this was clearly a gift for his colleague and not his student.
“Shall I put the alcohol in the kitchen?” She asks her... flatmate. He blinks. “Where do you keep it?” He indicates the cupboard and she takes the bottle with her, depositing the frankly gaudy bow on the island before putting the Ogden’s away. “The elf wine, too, I take it?” He nods. She Summons it, its bow joins the first - Professor Flitwick had charmed it to open and close like a flower, blooming; a leather flower, Clenching Clematis, she thinks - and stows it away as well. At least it wasn’t a passiflora...
Severus wants his, their table back, and he feels a bit stupid just standing there, so he picks up Rolanda’s champagne to cover for it, and reaching over the island with his long arms, hands it to the witch.
“There’s room in the fridge, I could put it in there?” She offers.
Oh, by all means. Keep it chilled in case he ever has something to celebrate. Although he has a list... Solving the riddle of the Invincibility Potion. The Dark Lord’s elimination. A cure for Albus... One feat more impossible than the next. And then he wonders why he thought of it in terms of his celebration.
It was her bubbly, after all.
Graduation then.
If they live that long.
It was a way off yet, he thinks with some discomfort. Yes, just the thing, keep it in the icebox for the next six months or so... As a constant reminder... “If there’s room,” he hears himself agreeing, and then shakes it off, “although that’s what Cooling Charms are for.”
“Oh, of course,” she feels a little silly. She’d only ever seen it at her parents’. They, obviously, hadn’t been able to resort to magic to spell the stuff cold. She places it in the cupboard with the other bottles, its bow joining the rest. “We can save it for a special occasion.” Her thoughts seem to have followed his own.
“Our anniversary perhaps?” Comes his dry reply. She does her best to ignore it.
“Would you mind?” She asks, gesturing towards the table. He’s between her and it right now, and Accioing things with people in the way is frequently dicey. When they’re made of glass - the things, not the people - presumably more so.
He obliges wordlessly, handing her Professors Sinistra’s, Babbling’s and Burbage’s wines, one after the next. She gives him a soft smile in thanks. Professor Burbage’s proves to be a Muggle vintage. That seems fitting.
She hesitates, a question on her lips. “Ask,” he prompts.
“Do staff...” he raises a brow, and she continues, “do they do much drinking?”
“That they do,” he smirks and immediately regrets it in light of his overindulgence just yesterday. “Dwelling at the school lends itself to it.” He seems quite serious now. “And any and all interaction with students, particularly of a protracted variety, only makes it more advisable.” He looks at her pointedly. She thinks he’s having her on, but she’s not confident.
She tilts her head, peering at him more closely, much as the (half-)Kneazle had regarded his office door, and then says for sure, “You’re teasing.”
He nods, his eye narrowing slightly. He doesn’t think she should be quite so certain, and suspects the bond has sabotaged the effort. “Wine was a safe alternative as gifts go. It’s noncommittal. Impersonal. Took. No. Thought. Presumably just what they had lying about...”
“Well to be fair, I doubt they were expecting the news...”
“Of our happy tidings? I should hope not.”
“They could hardly have gone shopping with us in mind,” she chides. The ‘us’ gets her his trademark raised brow of disbelief, he chooses to overlook the gentle rebuke.
Sarah Sapworthy’s fruit basket (made of twigs, because of course it is) follows next. It looks like nothing more than an oversized bird’s nest. He passes it to Hermione and she unpacks its contents into the yellow ceramic fruit bowl, removing the grapes to make room. She supposes the interspersal of twigs between the fruit shouldn’t really come as a surprise considering it was from a Xylomancer. Her hands full of those twigs, she looks at the Professor enquiringly, and wins herself another bark of laughter, “Keepsakes? Don’t tell me you wanted to save them as well?”
“No, I was wondering where the bin was,” she gives him an approximation of a withering look that decidedly lacks all bite.
“And here I was under the impression Evanesco was taught in fifth year.” And now she does add a bit of bite to her glance. He merely smirks and performs said Charm, wandlessly and silently before she gets the chance.
“Thank you,” she replies, and he finds himself acknowledging it, uncertain quite as to why she’d felt the need. Apparently this is a cooperative effort and she deemed it... appropriate.
He extends his hand, about to Vanish the bows, when her own hand shoots forward to grab one. Filius’. His work is unmistakable. “I thought Crooks might like it,” she explains, pocketing it carefully. Niffler. Clearly. Severus Vanishes the rest.
“I take it Hagrid’s Rock Cakes met a similar fate?” She asks.
“I believe Sunny was so kind, yes.” Small mercies. Actually... considering... Perhaps not so small when all is said and done. He still can’t believe how she struggled to eat them. Or that he was able to get her to do so. He’s not sure which was the greater feat.
She can’t help noticing he doesn’t once Summon the gifts, and considers her earlier observation confirmed. He evidently does prefer to resort to Muggle methods from time to time. Much as she’d done the dishes by hand this morning... Somehow she finds the thought comforting, as though they share something, at least in that much.
While that's not incorrect in general, she's wrong as to his reasons in this concrete example. He simply assumes they aren’t his things to Summon. When he eventually does Accio something by oversight and the Spell works, so typically optimistically, he'll take it for a formality.
“It might be nice to leave Professor Sprout’s flowers where they are? If you don’t object? They’re very pretty...” She tries to encourage him. He nods. He agreed with her assessment at any rate. Pomona had good taste, a great eye, a flare with flowers, and first rate blooms to choose from thanks to her considerable skill in her field. And the arrangement does look very nice in the vase that had never been his mum’s... Miss Granger has returned to the table and the remaining gifts, the grapes in hand. She puts the fruit with her things and begins to unwrap the bric-à-brac, smoothing the paper and placing it to the side.
“And were you planning to save that, too?” He needles, just a tad.
“No, I just didn’t want to make a mess.” A laudable goal if ever there were one. He fully approves.
The Music Instructor has gifted them Incantation Records’ latest release, Witchita Witches’ ‘We’re Not In Kansas Anymore’. She’s never heard of the band, the Professor, however, must have, because he winces.
“One would hope that the individual teaching Muggle Music would have some appreciation for the fact Muggle music is actually superior to the wizarding.” He half explains. She assumes he has no interest in the album and puts it with her stuff in an attempt not to aggravate him.
Still, she’s encouraged by his slightly more open stance and forthcomingness and ventures a quip of her own, “But perhaps he is, and that’s why he was willing to part with it.” That gets her a laugh which makes her grin.
“Oh! Professor Vector gave us a gift certificate to Flourish & Blotts.” She sounds excited at the thought. She hands it to him with an expectant smile. He merely looks puzzled. “Here,” she prompts when he doesn’t move to take it from her.
“I was willing to take your word for it,” he tells her. “I’m sure you’re capable of recognising such a thing when you see it.”
Her arm still outstretched, voucher in hand, she waves it at him a little. Not unlike Ron, which wouldn’t please Severus to hear it, on occasion he’s wondered if that’s somehow physiological. “I’m fairly sure it was for you,” she insists. He still makes no move to take it. Ridiculously thick. There’s no point in beating around the bush any longer, this is just absurd. “They’re trying to apologise for how they behaved on Monday,” she tells him with some exasperation.
“I think we can agree I know my colleagues better than you do.”
“Longer, unquestionably,” that gets her a scowl that doesn’t slow her in the least, “but if you can’t recognise an apology when you see it, I’m not so sure about ‘better’. You can’t honestly think with the amount of alcohol included that these were meant for me?” He most certainly can, ta muchly, but has no intention of debating the point. Well, no further.
His eyes narrowed, the distrust clear; he rather reminds her of Crooks. All that’s missing is the hiss. But he doesn’t argue, and he seems to be weighing the truth of her statement. She does notice that he appears to at least accept that she believes it to be the case. Surely that’s worth something.
“Here,” she says again.
“Why don’t you keep it,” he suggests. “Of the two of us, I am actually gainfully employed. Presumably I have less need of it.” And that may be a bit of payback for the ‘longer’. Fine. He isn’t wrong, her budget is honestly hurting, and she loves that store.
The next three things she opens are books, clearly selected from the collections of the respective givers, the Magical Theory and Ancient Studies Professors and the Ghoul Studies instructor, Professor Beckford. As both she and the Potions Master seem to have a weakness for old and used books, there’s nothing either of them find vaguely objectionable in that. (For Severus, that’s saying something.) She suggests that he add them to his shelves, and he does, a mite reluctantly, but she takes the win gladly. She does note that he applies some charms to them first before putting them up.
“It should keep them from sunning,” he answers her unasked question. Incompletely, of course. It also assures there are no unpleasant surprises - not that he’d believe it of Barrymore, for instance, but still; people have been duped or Imperiused before. Similarly, charms on the cupboards, ice box, fruit bowl, plates and glasses guarantee the food and drink is untainted. The charms are very good with poisons; exotic spices, on the other hand, are prone to cause false positives. Feisty Fenugreek does so almost regularly. It certainly makes Indian and Eritrean cooking challenging...
Further unwrapping reveals that Firenze appears to have made them a combined astrological chart.
That’s a little more difficult to couch as an apology, and Severus gives it a baleful look. In all fairness, Firenze hadn’t been present at Monday’s disastrous faculty meeting and hadn’t anything to apologise for. Hermione wisely lays it to her other things. She doubts the Professor would welcome it.
It’s gone well enough, really until they reach the last present. The Art Instructor had apparently made them a sketch of Hogwarts. She looks at it in confusion - it’s well done, albeit it an odd choice - but the Professor pails. “Sir?” She asks, not understanding the shift in mood.
“Do you still mean to tell me this is an apology and not a wedding gift?” He takes it in hand and waves it at her. (Crooks can’t help thinking they at least have that much in common. They’re fortunately spared his commentary.) She simply shakes her head, not understanding. “Why do you think he drew Hogwarts?” She shrugs now. “It’s where we were married. I suppose I should be grateful he didn’t sketch the Infirmary instead.” His face sours at the thought, and then at the associated thoughts about that wedding, and he throws the sketch onto the table.
She quietly adds it to her pile. She couldn’t explain it if she had to, or where she finds the courage (or perhaps that’s ‘gall’), but she puts one of her small, delicate hands on his arm in a gesture of comfort. He doesn’t pull away. He looks at it with all the confusion with which he’d mustered the gifts earlier, it’s clearly very foreign to him, but she’s encouraged by his lack of outright rejection. (Of course, the confusion has rather a lot to do with that.)
And then she smiles at him, almost sweetly, and calmly informs him, “Well, in that case, I’m claiming my Ogden’s.” That gets her his bark-laugh, and her smile broadens, her eyes soft. “I’m still pretty sure most of them were meant as apologies. Or well wishes. If one or two weren’t, that doesn’t disprove it for the rest.
“And either way, I don’t think any one of them meant us any harm by this.”
It’s an... unusual way of looking at the situation. It’s not how he’s given to doing so, at any rate. Probably because someone usually does mean him harm, on consideration. And yet, he can’t disagree with her here.
She draws her wand and Vanishes the wrapping paper (giving him a bit of a look for his dig about just that Charm earlier), gathers her things, gives the table the once over - he’s pleased to see it returned to its previously pristine state, well, save Pomona’s flowers - and then turns to leave for her room.
He watches her retreating form, she’s almost reached her door before he speaks, “Thank you, Miss Granger.”
She turns to look at him. “Of course,” she replies instantly, and then hesitates, “For what?”
He lets out a soft huff of amusement, and then something in his eyes... his entire demeanour become more serious, “For coming to my aid Monday night. I... greatly appreciate the rescue.”
The bond flares sharply at that, and it occurs to him her Peace has worn off. That was a strong reaction indeed. “Don't be ridiculous, that was the least I could do...” She’s anxious, and he’s no longer sure broaching the topic hadn’t been purely selfish, prioritising acknowledging that debt, manners, niceties above her needs in this case. She’s struggling, and her eyes seem... misty. He suspects it’s the precursor to tears, and curses himself silently for misjudging that. He’s an arse, being an arse - again - and he’s allowed the effects of the Draught to lull him into believing she weren’t quite as fragile as she now seems. “I'm so sorry the bonding caused that.” There’s a faint tremor to her voice.
“To be fair,” he answers her quietly, ”I believe it was the boys' attack that precipitated it. The bond may have been the excuse for it, but it would not have occurred without their actions, and I think we need look no further than the seventh year boys' room for the responsible parties.”
He’s not dismissing her concerns, he simply sees the situation differently, but he... feels her disagreement and guilt, acutely. “I am quite serious, Miss Granger, you have nothing to feel remotely guilty about.
“I have to apologise, too, not only that you felt compelled to leave the grounds to assist me, but also that I was... in such a state that I... required your... care.” It couldn’t have been stiffer if he’d tried, but it needed saying. That had bothered him greatly. Not greatly enough to have stopped him from incapacitating himself in her presence a mere day later, apparently... Hmm. Bygones. But there’s a huge difference between a situation chosen and one forced upon him, and he hadn’t appreciated the latter in the least. Needing her help. Or that the bond had presumably forced her to supply it.
He means it, she knows it, and strangely it seems to weigh as heavily on him as her guilt does on her. Somehow that reaches her, interrupting her spiral of guilt, and causing her to stop and... think.
She feels terrible that the bonding for her protection led to his torture, how could she not? He apparently feels about the same - she knows it - that that torture left him in a condition where she had theoretically been at risk by helping him. As though that were more important... Especially as nothing had happened... (She misses the logical fallacy, and he is unable to explain it to her as she doesn’t share her thoughts.) And if possible, which she can’t truly understand, he feels even worse that he had needed help. Ashamed of that need. As though succumbing to the effects of torture were something to be ashamed of... Surely that must be the single stupidest response ever... Or as if he had done any less for her Friday night, coming to her rescue while gravely injured, overlooking her mortifying condition and carrying her all the way to the Infirmary... She shakes her head.
They make a fine pair...
She has an idea. She's not entirely sure it’s a good one, if she should do it, in fact it strikes her as highly questionable, but the response is something like Crooks’ when he senses she needs cheering up. He’ll butt his head against her, her hand, her arm, her chin, until she finally does. It usually works. So she looks at the Professor and in all earnestness tells him, “I was aware when I bonded a person who was a... reasonable bit older than I am that there might come a time when I would have to care for him.” His eyes are wide as saucers and Hermione has difficulty not smirking as she continues, “Naturally, I had hoped the incontinence might come a little later...”
He starts and splutters with indignation, apparently at a loss for words, before finally rasping, “That was an Aguamenti!”
Hermione merely stands there blinking innocently and smirking, until he finally realises the little chit of a woman is teasing him.
She waits until she’s certain he understands that, and then assures him simply, “I know.” It wasn’t what she’d taken it for at first, of course, but the bond had told her as much, how pleased he’d been with the ruse. What she misses, and he does not, is that she hadn’t shied away from the sight or the task even when she hadn’t been aware of that fact. No, she’d seen fit to help him, to shield his dignity, and he’s not likely to forget that.
Severus is pragmatic, and by and large not particularly squeamish. He automatically empties his bladder and bowels magically when called to the Manor. Anyone of his caliber would. It's the only sensible thing if one doesn't wish to risk spending an evening in one’s own filth. The sad truth is there's not a carpet in the Manor that hadn't been piss soaked, and fairly regularly at that of late. It's a testament to the skill of the Malfoy elves that the place doesn't smell like a kennel.
The humiliation factor involved in pissing oneself is virtually non-existent at this point; that’s not the issue. There's not a one of them it hasn't struck. Not that that stops Bellatrix from getting a giggle - she often exhibits deceptively simple tastes - but that's probably what counts. It may well be what passes for entertainment at the Manor these days.
Merlin, if they could get a telly to function, he'd happily pay their license fee were that the issue...
(Not even he finds it funny, and he’s the only one privy to the thought, which makes him wonder, sometimes, why he bothers. It’s a coping mechanism, nothing more, and not even a particularly successful one lately. No, lately not much seems to work...)
The Dark Lord had related to the others what Severus had done to Draco Monday evening, just as he’d plucked it straight from the spy’s mind. How Severus had left Draco lying for a time in a puddle of his own urine in the Transfiguration Classroom. It had given Bellatrix some satisfaction, mirroring that image of her nephew. She’d been pleased to evidently have reduced Severus to that as well. And then 'he' had called her off.
Urination hadn’t even been possibility. The others had severely misgauged Severus’ shape; that Aguamenti may have saved his life.
He attributes the inspiration for that in part to their conversation Monday evening before he’d left for the Manor.
He looks at the woman before him and decides he owes her his gratitude for that, too. He makes an effort to explain it. Naturally he leaves out most of the details, but it still gets the point across. More than he expects, in fact, as the bond had provided her with an all too clear idea of what had been done to him. It was horrifying.
“It wasn't actually my idea,” she corrects, pedantically, mostly just uncomfortable with his appreciation when he’d clearly suffered so much. “I believe you had explained the tactic to me.”
“Hmm. So I did. And perhaps it wasn't. But I wouldn't have thought of it without our conversation, and I am quite certain it saved me no small measure of pain.” First there’s her anxiety again, just at the mention of it, then he feels her unspoken disagreement. He thinks he understands why she has difficulty just accepting his thanks. But he also needs her to understand this. He could keep quiet and allow a problem to grow, or address it now, and tonight... Tonight he’s encouraged by a few successes and he chooses the second option. “Miss Granger, I’m not accustomed to expressing my appreciation all that often. It would simplify matters, greatly, if I didn’t have to fight you to do so on one of the rare occasions I attempt to.”
She looks at him for a long moment, collecting herself before responding. “You’re clearly selling yourself short. I can point to a dozen ‘thank you’ notes from this evening alone...”
Cheeky thing.
Except she’s not, or at least: not now. It’s not cheek. Oh, it certainly sounds like it, but it doesn’t feel that way in the least, and he’s reasonably sure, now, that’s what counts.
“Be that as it may, I am much obliged for your assistance.“
“I was right the first time,” she smiles. “‘Of course’. Turnabout and all that,” she quips, still needing to at least try to make light of the frankly terrifying situation, and thinking briefly of Newton Kurz from earlier. “I owed you one,” she explains more seriously. And then she blanches, looking absolutely mortified for a moment, “That’s not to say I wouldn’t have done it anyway...”
He’s coming to appreciate her mortification. Ironically, it makes her frequent missteps more amusing than irritating. “‘Of course’,” he simply repeats her words back to her. “I’m inclined to believe you would,” he assures her.
“And I wouldn't worry about Monday anyway. It hardly registered,” she lies smoothly, positive by now he'll understand she's being glib. He does. “But there was quite a lot going on in the Infirmary that night, and I think most people’s attention was elsewhere...” It dangles there, something by way of an offering. A teaser, waiting for him to ask her for more.
He has plans for later, but it’s not time yet. The evening, however, has been so thoroughly disjointed that there isn’t really time to begin anything else. He wouldn’t have the peace needed to concentrate on reading, or the uninterrupted time he needs to test a few of his Invincibility Potion theories, and squeezing research into spare minutes rarely proves fruitful...
“Would you care to take a seat?” He invites instead, gesturing towards her chair. “There’s little point in standing about.” His tone is steady, but it feels maybe... a little... uncertain. She just might like that. She can’t decide if he’s primarily unsure about her response or the advisability of their sitting together, chatting like normal people, but she beams at the very idea, and he feels... a bit better for having extended the invitation.
“Just let me put my things away. I wouldn’t want to leave stuff lying about.” That gets her the amused huff she’d hoped for, it certainly hadn’t stopped her from covering their dining table... She dashes into her room, and her evident eagerness sits a bit uneasily with him. It seems so... young... And more disturbingly, perhaps a bit too... fond. He decides she’s simply unused to the solitude after all these years in the Tower, and while that’s true, she is the only child of two hard working professionals. Hermione is very used to being on her own.
It’s not long before there’s a sharp intake of breath from her room that draws his attention. He’d take it for alarm, but the bond assures him it’s surprise, although his fingers are already on his wand, just in case. Soon the sound is followed by a protracted “Oooh!” Not a moment later she appears in her doorway, as though it were necessary, because the mirror had assured she’d never left his sight...
But then he hadn’t been in hers.
He’d registered her setting her things on her desk, squaring the small pile to the corner. She’d then gone to her nightstand and had seemingly adjusted the flowers in her bouquet. The thing was bound together, he can’t imagine what she thought needed doing there except for orientation, and he was absolutely positive he’d returned everything to its initial state... And then she’d stopped, and begun examining the table. At the gasp, he’d started to watch her more closely, how she ran her fingers, probingly across the surface, the spindles of the door. The ‘Oooh!’ as she began to realise what he’d done.
“It’s real wood!” She coos. Severus finds the sound odd, because he really isn’t used to it. (Oddly, Daphne, the most likely to ‘coo’ in his House, rarely does so in his presence. Possibly that’s because she isn’t in his N.E.W.T. Potions class, but probably not.) In fact, it’s safe to say the people of his acquaintance tend not to make such noises. And even were they given to, there’s rarely been occasion for it in recent years. There may have been some of that at Draco’s birth, but it’s been a while since.
But then, considering his godson is his bondmate’s contemporary, perhaps not nearly long enough ago...
Hermione immediately blushes at her reaction, because the key thing wasn’t that it was real as opposed to expertly Transfigured wood. Mere hours ago, she couldn’t have told the difference anyway. No, what really mattered was he had made this for her. And she’s doing a piss poor job of letting him know that.
Severus is so used to doing things that don’t go appreciated, he’s actually more comfortable with the response. On the contrary, he’s greatly pleased that she had learnt from his earlier attempt to teach her the differences. That’s something that annoys him almost daily, that people refuse to learn what he endeavours to teach...
If she understood that, how he works, it would cause problems, because she’d need to teach him he’s wrong, which really wouldn’t go over well. Fortunately she does not. Instead she begins to stumble over her words trying to express her gratitude, compliments his work, both on the nightstand and the balustrade - Holy Cricket! - and then hastily and rather clumsily apologises for not mentioning it sooner, because it was so very well done and so nice of him to have listened to her suggestions, and it makes the room look... so very nice... And she’s run out of descriptors in the process. (He finds that funny, particularly the look on her face when she mentally adds her own name to the list of people she needs to gift imaginary thesauri to.) But Hermione feels his initial pleasure, and subsequent amusement and slowly it reaches her and keeps her from tumbling arse over tip into something irredeemably awkward. (Although she does her very best to come so incredibly close while still scraping for adverbs.)
“Thank you,” she finally finishes, slightly breathless, looking fondly over her shoulder at the table again. “It’s magnificent.”
“You’re quite welcome,” he replies evenly, and then he smirks. “And that is how one graciously accepts someone’s gratitude.”
She laughs, letting the residual awkwardness wash from her, and he relaxes a little more. Again he gestures to her chair, and she closes the door to her room behind her, mindful that he’d probably wanted to keep the mirror - and through it, the room behind him - in view, before taking her seat. Only once she has does he move to take his. It strikes her as a bit rigid, perhaps old fashioned, he’d waited, standing, the whole time she was in her room after all.
Somewhat eagerly, she watches him settle into the chair across from hers.
A/N:
I just need to direct your attention to some artwork MyWitch created for chapter 100a (LJ and DW). She
MyWitch also provided the beautiful drawing of Hogwarts that appears in this chapter. The original version can be seen in her very excellent comic ‘Stupid Harry Potter Comix’, because she’s an absolute doll in addition to being wicked talented. (And possibly wicked in general, but I shouldn’t like to say... 😉)
Thank you so much! ❤️
And a happy belated birthday to sofiac_casiopea. Let there be cake, my dear! 🍰🥳🎉
This... just exactly This kind of interaction SSHG! 😍
Date: 2019-05-02 07:35 pm (UTC)[Now that she’s no longer scandalised by the idea of an inflammatory ‘thank you’ card - it had seemed to rather defeat the purpose - she can look at it more objectively.
He’s captured her quite nicely, which strikes her as kind. She’s there in the blouse she’s currently wearing, and whether deliberate or not, he’s depicted her hair with the waterfall break Madam Pomfrey had charmed on Sunday. Hermione had liked it, she thinks, looking at the card. It had flattered her. She has to wonder, in passing, if he’d liked it, too.]
[He raises his wand, points it at the stamp, prepares to perform the ‘Finite Incantatem’ to reduce it to parchment once more, and just in time she realises what he means to do. “Wait!” She cries out, her hand shooting up without thinking to grab his arm. “You can’t destroy that...”
“You didn’t mean to keep it?”
She blushes and puts it with her things, “That’s what Reducios are for...” The stamp and seal soon join it. “It was my parchment anyway,” she mumbles under her breath as though it might justify the response...]
The little things are what Tell the story, this gorgeous little interaction is so adorable in it's simplicity. These are precisely the type of generically comfortable times that proves to be a building blocks to a real relationship!
[“Miss Granger, I’m not accustomed to expressing my appreciation all that often. It would simplify matters, greatly, if I didn’t have to fight you to do so on one of the rare occasions I attempt to.”
She looks at him for a long moment, collecting herself before responding. “You’re clearly selling yourself short. I can point to a dozen ‘thank you’ notes from this evening alone...”
Cheeky thing.]
Sorting the "gifts", working to help each other with something domestic in nature, both of them "teaching" each other soothing bits of minutia.
[At the gasp, he’d started to watch her more closely, how she ran her fingers, probingly across the surface, the spindles of the door. The ‘Oooh!’ as she began to realise what he’d done.
“It’s real wood!” She coos. Severus finds the sound odd, because he really isn’t used to it. ]
[Hermione immediately blushes at her reaction, because the key thing wasn’t that it was real as opposed to expertly Transfigured wood. Mere hours ago, she couldn’t have told the difference anyway. No, what really mattered was he had made this for her. And she’s doing a piss poor job of letting him know that.
Severus is so used to doing things that don’t go appreciated, he’s actually more comfortable with the response. On the contrary, he’s greatly pleased that she had learnt from his earlier attempt to teach her the differences. That’s something that annoys him almost daily, that people refuse to learn what he endeavours to teach... ]
[And she’s run out of descriptors in the process. (He finds that funny, particularly the look on her face when she mentally adds her own name to the list of people she needs to gift imaginary thesauri to.) But Hermione feels his initial pleasure, and subsequent amusement and slowly it reaches her and keeps her from tumbling arse over tip into something irredeemably awkward. (Although she does her very best to come so incredibly close while still scraping for adverbs.)
“Thank you,” she finally finishes, slightly breathless, looking fondly over her shoulder at the table again. “It’s magnificent.”
“You’re quite welcome,” he replies evenly, and then he smirks. “And that is how one graciously accepts someone’s gratitude.”]
Hermione's reaction to Severus' efforts is priceless and perfect for him to receive graciously. Can't wait to watch these two growing into the people they have the potential to be to each other.
Far too much to write about to cover Everything I adore, so much to love in this story.
Thank You for the story and another Thank You to MyWitch for the spectacular Art provided. Hey Ginger, how cool would it be to Write MyWitch IN as the Art Professor!!!!??? Ohhhh and maybe a Severus look alike Cousin to keep for her own???
RE: This... just exactly This kind of interaction SSHG! 😍
Date: 2019-05-03 12:23 pm (UTC)Her art was great, wasn’t it? 😃
RE: This... just exactly This kind of interaction SSHG! 😍
Date: 2020-07-08 06:16 am (UTC)RE: This... just exactly This kind of interaction SSHG! 😍
Date: 2020-07-08 06:17 am (UTC)RE: This... just exactly This kind of interaction SSHG! 😍
Date: 2020-07-08 02:18 pm (UTC)It Works!!! Albus stands up to announce new Professors... "Madame Mywitch will be holding her elective Magical Arts classes beginning the New Year. Welcome her with your creative inspirations. Also introducing our latest Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor, Pentheus Prince, cousin of our very Potions Master Severus Snape. See your Head of House if you wish to send condolences to the former Professor's family."
RE: This... just exactly This kind of interaction SSHG! 😍
Date: 2021-03-01 11:51 pm (UTC)I like this idea very much. I'm sure Severus and I can figure out a way to get HG interested in the cousin and then we can run off to Bora Bora together. ... ......
(no subject)
Date: 2019-05-02 08:14 pm (UTC)I must read it again, of course, slow and carefully so I don't miss a thing, as now I'm half-awake (or half-slept, whatsoever).
It was nice to discover we share a "witched" birthday.
Thanks, Ginger. This one was so much needed.
(no subject)
Date: 2019-05-06 11:33 am (UTC)Happy if I could bring a little cheer your way. You deserve it. *hugs*
(no subject)
Date: 2019-05-02 09:19 pm (UTC)LOLOLOLOLOLOLOL INCONTINENCE...
I died at that bit.
This chapter was the best!
(no subject)
Date: 2019-05-03 12:27 pm (UTC)Poor Severus, Hermione taking the mickey like that. As though *that* were something to tease about... Tsk.
Thanks! 😊
(no subject)
Date: 2019-05-09 12:34 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2019-05-11 01:14 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2019-05-04 04:44 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2019-05-06 11:15 am (UTC)Nah, Severus needs some appreciation. (Because Albus doesn’t strike me as the ‘atta boy’ type... *tsk*)
More coupley stuff next chapter, too. 😊
Amazing
Date: 2019-05-10 08:32 pm (UTC)RE: Amazing
Date: 2019-05-11 01:15 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2019-05-13 04:24 am (UTC)All this great Grape, can’t help it, looove the portmanteau , interaction is spoiling us. Not that I’m complaining. Quite the opposite. More Snape and Hermione! Bring it on baby! Their particular brand of adorable awkwardness and uncertainty gives me life. Her gushing over him making her the wood carrier, and his pleasure over it makes me so happy.
And let’s not forget an Vince and his discovery about the Lust Potion! That’s going to bring some major excitement I believe...
(no subject)
Date: 2019-05-13 10:34 pm (UTC)All that, and two more chapters of it coming up. 😉 (Next one’s up already in fact.)
I don’t think Severus was often thanked, and I imagine that if you can believe someone is sincere, then it’s a nice thing to hear that for once.
Hermione *definitely* does enthusiasm and awkward gushing. Totally her wheelhouse. *nods*
Well at least Vince knows *why* people are gluing him to couches and turning his back into jerky and attaching pretty fairy wings to it...
(no subject)
Date: 2019-07-16 11:31 pm (UTC)-calket
(no subject)
Date: 2019-07-18 11:44 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2019-12-07 07:05 am (UTC)Those snakes are snookered!!
Loving how they are getting along so well, they're actually trying!
(no subject)
Date: 2020-07-08 06:25 am (UTC)I enjoy Gregory G so much. I like to see that Vince is a bit on edge, starting to piece together possibilities of what might have happened. I'm worried for Harper - I think Millie is gonna drag Vince directly to him and I am really hoping that weak protego will be enough to keep him from most of the pain.
Snape and Granger were adorable together. Good lord, I wonder now did Albus bond them in this way specifically because of that emotional connection they now share? Perhaps he was being kind, as it would be soooo much work to try to be in Snape's life if he was going to be guessing about what Hermione was feeling all the time. He is so prone to guessing wrong about her motivations, and this bond is really helping him to see that she is, while an unrepentant pain in the keister (which, frankly, we all know he enjoys), a kind and caring person. Who dares to tease him! That bit with the incontinence was hilarious!!
Fantastic chapter, my dear! xo
(no subject)
Date: 2020-10-01 06:31 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2020-12-21 12:04 pm (UTC)I'm really interested to see Crabbe's POV, wonder how he will justify himself. Of course, he really deserves everything he gets!
I love the way you have woven the story, I hope LJ/DW are working better than AO3
(no subject)
Date: 2020-12-21 01:56 pm (UTC)We are slightly "cheated" out of Crabbe et al's POVs by the fact they don't have memories of the events. Draco knows most of what took place, Theo puts some of it together thanks to the note from Draco's mum, but the other three have precious little to go off of (although Vince has a few vague hints), and if anything, that tends to make people even less inclined to feel guilty, especially when punishments are being meted out. (The Poste Serpentes help balance that out some, but still. It becomes something you have to intellectually remind yourself of as opposed to *feeling* you deserve a thing. That's never as robust.)
AO3 seems to have addressed some of the things that upset me (having subscriptions count against you was particularly evil), which is nice. It's always good to see progress. It still doesn't seem to have found a way to combat the web crawlers and artificially inflated hit counts for pornographic content, and for me, that's a serious issue (I want to see "G" rated works prosper as well), especially in a climate where AO3 is increasingly taking a monopoly position and more and more alternatives are collapsing under the threat it poses. (Resources are finite, and everyone is competing for the same ones, be it readers, authors or donations. It starts with simple things like: why is the formatting to upload a story to AO3 different to what I'd need here or on DW or even FFN? When time is limited, does an author do different versions? Or do they ultimately go with the site that gives them more readers/comments/kudos?)
While I love to bits that AO3 functions as a life raft for things that would otherwise get lost as sites fold in the natural progression of things, it's reached a point now where they are contributing to that folding in a nontrivial way, and frankly, I don't think monopolies have ever been wise. Especially, as I said, when their system artificially boosts only a segment of the market, arguably often of less creative worth. (Extremely poorly written porn - even purely nonsensical copy pasta (and that's not hyperbole) - will generate more traffic from the crawlers alone, that in turn makes it more likely to surface in results and get actual readers. It's seriously demotivating for people who write purely fluffy stuff, and a highly questionable site design choice.) There are more sensitive ways to deal with that, but the damage they're doing doesn't seem to have registered with them yet. And so I keep up my one woman crusade, tilting at windmills... lol (It's going swimmingly. 😉)
But beyond all that, I really, *really* love the individual chapter tags to little tiny bits. 😊 Adding to those slowly but surely. When I'm done, it should be possible to read the Severus & Crooks buddy story with just the click of a tag...
(no subject)
Date: 2020-12-29 07:43 pm (UTC)This is my first real exposure to lj, and I'm still stumbling around it. I'll admit that I found AO3 while looking for (seventh Doctor Who!) smut, but eventually found good Snapecentric stories like your own.
Thanks for putting so much hard work into this dense delious fic!
(no subject)
Date: 2021-04-06 04:26 pm (UTC)Heh, I wasn’t thinking of wandpoint wrt to my complaint about anti-fluff bias. On the contrary, thanks to its rating and tags, bw gets attention it probably shouldn’t (to be fair), if that’s what a reader were actively seeking. (Conversely, I have one future chapter that probably goes too far for an “M” rating and a couple that skirt it, but wasn’t willing to give wandpoint a higher rating given the scene is such a small drop in the bucket. (If you came explicitly for the E (*snerk*), you’d be disappointed; similarly if you were avoidant for that reason, you might be missing a work you’d like.) I’ll need to figure out how to approach that when I get there. Currently I’m experimenting with leaving a chapter or portion thereof “skippable” in the Christmas Spirit AU to see how that works. (And the answer is my sample size here is too small and doesn’t contain the right segments to test properly...) But in the final analysis, the actual details of the third instalment won’t have been crucial to the story; that’s what previouslies are for...)
It doesn’t matter, though, that bw isn’t fluff if there is an anti-fluff bias. The way I’m wired, in the interests of fairness, something in a position of relative strength needs to help protect things that aren’t.
Something completely different... Somebody had sent me a message (about a podcast) maybe a month or two ago that I can’t seem to find anywhere. (Too many accounts... lol) On the off chance it was you, and for some reason I had thought it might be, could you give me a hint where to look for it? (Also, I thought a reddit account might have been relevant? In which case: I’m gingerbredshaus over there. Not, mind, that they seem to forward messages either, settings be damned... But there we are.)
Sorry I’m just now getting back to you (if it was you lol).
Podcast
Date: 2021-04-07 02:30 am (UTC)For example, this is the one I've written up for tumblr: https://docs.google.com/document/d/1GKa30ZQJViedK3wjalq2YVPvT03S9eq4gfKsNUdVwio/edit?usp=drivesdk
It would be great if you could write/record something for LiveJournal, or perhaps put me into contact with someone else who might be interested...
I know it's a big ask, but I think it would be a great way to shine a light on the vital community (as I believe) on LJ
Oh yeah, the podcast: https://snapechat.podbean.com
Thanks for your time and attention 😺
RE: Podcast
Date: 2021-04-08 03:03 am (UTC)RE: Podcast
Date: 2021-04-08 12:48 pm (UTC)I’ll PM you my email, because this seems a conversation better shifted to that medium, and I have a couple of ideas for you.
Podcast
Date: 2021-04-07 02:51 am (UTC)