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beyondwandpoint) wrote2020-01-01 12:15 pm
beyondwandpoint) wrote2020-01-01 12:15 pm
Entry tags:
- amplification charms,
- fanfic,
- gregory goyle,
- harper hutchinson,
- hermione granger,
- hermione granger / severus snape,
- hutchinson galleonmaking schemes,
- loyalty vow,
- maleficent,
- millicent bulstrode,
- pansy parkinson,
- perception charms,
- potterverse,
- severus snape,
- slytherin boys' dorms,
- slytherin dungeons,
- slytherin girls' dorms,
- slytherins being slytherins,
- snamione,
- snapes' chambers,
- ss/hg,
- sunny the house elf,
- the black bikini,
- the bond,
- theo nott,
- tracey davis,
- vincent crabbe
“beyond wandpoint” 116 by gingerbred
“11 12-13c Wed - Thurs - Rest”
For the most part, they finally get some.
Severus, Hermione, Slytherins: Theo Nott, Gregory Goyle, Millicent Bulstrode, Harper Hutchinson, Others: Sunny, Maleficent
Mentioned briefly: Slytherins: Vincent Crabbe, Tracey Davis, Pansy Parkinson
Originally Published: 2020-01-01 on LJ / DW
Chapter: 116
Characters:
Severus (HoS, Potions), Hermione 7G (Prefect, Supreme Swot)
Slytherins: Theo Nott 7S (Swottiest, Nervous Wreck), Gregory Goyle 7S (Beater), Millicent 'Millie' Bulstrode (Reserve Beater, yes, that.), Harper Hutchinson 6S (Prefect, Chaser, flash Robe Model), Others: Sunny (the Snapes' house elf), Maleficent 'Malley' (Millie’s Maine Coon)
Mentioned briefly: Slytherins: Vincent 'Vince' Crabbe 7S (Beater, Inferi Princess), Tracey Davis 7S (Swottier), Pansy Parkinson 7S (Prefect)
Previously:
Severus suggests that Hermione take the Draught of Peace during the daytime to better weather the castle's initial reaction to their bonding (to say nothing of the trauma of the assault last Friday), but encourages her not to use it in chambers or at night so she can come to terms with the events of the past few days. (055 LJ / DW)
Endeavouring to prove some facts to his bondmate about the Loyalty Vow, Severus ever so cleverly - but memorably - has her administer a poison to him. That goes much as one might expect. (077b LJ / DW)
Draco arranges for Theo to read the letter from his mother which provides some insight into just what it is that they might have done. (080a LJ / DW)
Harper talks Blaise out of his robes in return for fetching the girls to try help Draco, Vince and Theo Wednesday morning in the Slytherin dorms. (091a LJ / DW)
The school learns that Megan Jones, a seventh year Muggle-born Hufflepuff, has withdrawn from school mid-term. (096 LJ / DW) This gives rise to much speculation, particularly from some of the Slytherins who know the seventh year boys were - somehow -responsible for their Head's bonding.
Harper takes pictures of Vince stuck to the couch with purple, sparkly fairy wings, intending to sell them. (091b LJ / DW) Vince, predictably less than enthused, gives him a beatdown for his troubles. (112a LJ / DW) Tracey is kind enough to give Harper some Pain Relieving potion to better cope. (111 LJ / DW)
The Slytherins come up with a plan to test whether Vince is supplying Zacharias Smith with potions to sell to the other Houses, and if that proves the case mean to begin brewing for themselves. (105 LJ / DW)
Hermione notices that her ring has changed size and promptly begins to panic, a useful response if ever there were one. (114 LJ / DW)
Luna, or rather her Patronus, lets it slip to Hermione that her missing footwear is sadly the result of bullying. (115 LJ / DW)
Millie's Pettichap's Perfect Performance Pendant has gone grey to reflect her potty mouth, or potty mind, more like, and she has until Sunday to redeem herself or her mother has threatened to sell Millie's Maine Coon for potions ingredients. (115 LJ / DW)
It's been a long day, a long day in a series of long days, and enough of it hasn't been good to make an impact. Without the Matron's blanket and with the Draught of Peace well and truly out of Hermione's system, given the fighting with Ron and Harry, and after the news she'd just had from Luna... It's quite a lot, and she is feeling down. It would be easier if she were able to acknowledge the effect the events of Friday are having on her, but she refuses to even try just yet. Fair enough, it will come with time, but for the moment that refusal doesn't make her feel any better either.
Just not any worse.
Some days that's best one can hope for.
She pulls her knees a little higher, tucking herself ever more into a ball as she lies there. She can't help noticing that the Professor's previously good mood is steadily worsening, and the horrifying suspicion that it has a great deal to do with her own mood has her... concerned.
He's going to have her guts for garters.
Or potions ingredients.
Probably that.
Not even in the most extreme of her fantasies had she pictured him in garters - so not her thing, thank you very much - so that only makes sense... Hopefully it isn't his... (And now she has to wonder why it would even matter in light of his very hard limits with respect to the nature of the relationship between them...)
She tells her inner voice to stuff it; facetiousness is not helping matters right now.
It might, but she's not in a mood to find humour in things. That's rather the problem.
She wishes she could forget every single one of those thoughts that had come to her while on that Potion Friday night, then recalls the Professor had actually offered an Obliviate if she wanted it, and finally has to question why she seems to think it would be preferable to forget a handful... well, more like a trunk load. A trunk load of erotic fantasies instead of what actually happened to her.
Something about those priorities is uncomfortably revealing.
But then she consoles herself that it's unquestionably down to her denial, a thought that feels suspiciously dangerous, hinting as it does that there's something unacknowledged...
And speaking of denial...
It's not like anything actually did happen, anyway, and she'll cling to that tenaciously. Forevermore. Cheers.
Oddly, none of those thoughts have helped improve her mood.
She can feel the Professor coming closer, and it's a very strange sensation. Anticipating his reaction to her mood-ruining funk, she's growing increasingly nervous as he approaches, which is a little silly, she'll allow that even in her present state, because just what is she worried he'll do? Pull her from her room and chastise her for being less than cheery? Kettle meet cauldron.
Or berate her for the change in their rings?
That makes her stomach relocate rapidly to the vicinity of her toes and then shoot up again quickly to her throat, judging by the sudden constriction there.
Although the thought of those rings and naturally the very notion of his response to that change makes her nervous, of course it does, it still seems... unlikely at best.
And yet she struggles to swallow normally oddly enough...
It's hard to put a finger on the source of her concern, however. He's been remarkably patient, all in all; very reasonable. Well, with the possible exception of the poisoning incident... Hmm. But he'd been in a bit of a state at the time. She can't imagine that will become a regular thing. And she's on to him now, so for that reason alone, she isn't likely to fall for his tricks again moving forward.
No, all considered, she's not sure why she's worrying so much. (Not that that thought is sufficient to stop her from doing so; not remotely.)
He hasn't changed directions much, that's an issue with the vast majority of the castle being located more or less in one direction away from her... But she's quite sure he's drawing closer, coming home.
She tries to pull herself together, and she thinks she might just avoid crying after all, that would be nice. She's almost thinking about feeling proud of that, except that would mean admitting yet another thing she doesn't want to about why crying might ultimately be justifiable; she isn't sure yet... And then she can feel him outside their chambers, the shift in their wards.
It's very different to everyone else. A lovely sensation, really, she could get used to it, or would enjoy trying to... And it seems very much like the impending breakdown has been successfully averted, she's going to be alright, and she won't burst into tears, when all of a sudden, almost out of nowhere (which strikes her as an absolutely absurd thought given her many and very excellent reasons for being upset) it all seems to get to be a bit much for her, and the next thing she knows, she's sniffling.
Audibly.
She has no idea why...
And naturally that's when he enters their chambers and she's greeted by a wave of annoyance like nothing she's ever felt.
That's not true in the least, of course. That's just how it seems. The issue with the second hand emotions through the bond is that because they aren't one's own reactions, one has the ability to examine them a little more objectively. Hermione is no stranger to annoyance. She's frequently annoyed beyond words, in fact. But when she is, she also tends to be so preoccupied with whatever is annoying her that she doesn't stop to dissect the emotion; it's a natural response to a situation and nothing more.
Here she's very much capable of questioning it, and right now she's asking what she did to deserve that?
Funnily enough, Severus is asking himself much the same thing.
The wards feel better... worse, they feel more right than usual as Severus swoops through them, but instead of simply enjoying the sensation, he chooses to become even more annoyed, duly concerned about the reason for that improvement. While not an unjustified response, truly, it's less opportune by far than appreciation would have been. On the other hand, his cautious nature has helped keep him alive against some wretched odds, and there's something to be said for trusting his instincts, however pessimistic they sometimes tend to be.
As at present.
He wouldn't have had long to enjoy the sensation anyway, because as he enters their chambers he can hear her... snivelling.
He knew she was sad, he'd been able to feel that clearly enough. The shock comes in being able to hear it. If she isn't actually crying - a distinction he is quite sure he cannot make through closed doors, the bond be damned - then this is most assuredly the precursor. It can only be a matter of moments before the waterworks begin.
Severus is appalled. This is highly disturbing. For a variety of reasons, really, he's not best pleased to come home to this. Firstly, barring Sunny, who is perfectly capable of making himself scarce - except, so strangely, just at the moment - Severus has lived alone since he completed his Mastery sixteen and a half years ago; he is not equipped to deal with this sort of emotional display in his private refuge. Secondly, he simply can't believe his doors are such utter rubbish, because surely paper would have provided better soundproofing. (He strongly doubts she's Sonoroused her sobs, if only because she's highly unlikely to know the Charm, which, despite its accuracy, is thoroughly unfair, but there's something about a crying woman in his home that has him inclined to be less fair than usual, and fairness is hardly his strong suit. He proceeds to think suitably dark thoughts about the clearly shoddy workmanship of the entryway.) And thirdly, he can't for the life of him understand why a witch wouldn't have applied some manner of Privacy Charm to the thing, if not to maintain her own privacy, then at least as a courtesy measure for him. Sure, she'd only recently asked him if he could teach her such a Charm, but he knows for a fact she knows his perfectly good Muffliato, damn Potter and his prying. (Passingly Severus wonders if this is some kind of payback for his refusal to instruct her... The very thought only irks him more.)
He clears his throat in the hopes she'll grasp the extent to which she's exposed.
It brings about no changes.
He coughs deliberately, more loudly, with no better results, save drawing some side eye - he is fairly certain of it, at any rate - from Sunny. The suspicion is sufficient to curtail his efforts in that direction and further blacken his mood.
Naturally he has no way of knowing Sunny had just waited for his arrival to hit her with a carefully timed Snivelling Jinx - how could he, even Hermione doesn't suspect - and Severus is far too busy being mortified that he can hear her.
As to the second point, his doors aren't anywhere near that shabby, Sunny has simply performed another Perception Charm on it, an Amplification Charm as it happens, enabling Severus to hear her almost as clearly as if he were standing in the same room. It works a treat judging by his reaction.
As to why she hadn't thought to put up some sort of Privacy Charm, from her side of the door, she can't hear a thing. Unsurprisingly, she has no idea he can hear her at all. Under the circumstances, it would be unusual if she were to put up such a Charm, and really, as far as she's concerned, the true threat to her privacy is the bond which makes him perfectly aware that she's in tears, or near enough as to make the distinction largely immaterial. Their bond is still so new, she takes his reaction as solely bond induced, failing to associate any change in his response with his physical presence in their flat, and even in the face of the rather suspicious timing, doesn't once think to silence the door herself. His annoyance that she doesn't - not that she comprehends it, as she quite naturally misjudges the cause - only upsets her further, and it only worsens until she reaches a tipping point and she now begins crying in earnest, her sniffles turning to heart rending sobs.
Sunny does his level best not to feel too pleased.
Severus' first instinct, to quickly throw up a Silencing Charm against the door, is stayed by Sunny's presence before that very object where he stands, ever so dejectedly (and demonstratively) wringing his knobby little hands, just the very soul of misery and staring at Severus with the widest imaginable eyes. A BAFTA-worthy performance if ever there were one, were such awards presented to house elves, that is, or any other magical creatures, for that matter.
Bugger.
This is hardly the first sobbing witch he's been confronted with. As a Head of House, he's seen a fair few over the years. But Slytherins tend to be more circumspect, and their positions, Head and member of that House respectively, have a way of... regulating the interactions. Severus feels at a bit of a loss here without those designated roles to fall back on, and isn't quite sure what to do.
That only annoys him more.
The Silencing Charm crosses his mind again as another wail wafts from the room. As if sensing Severus' inclination, Sunny promptly begins some wailing of his own to the Potions Master's unbridled delight...
"Mistress cries!"
Cheers, he'd noticed.
"What will Master do?"
Do?
Do?
He's sure he doesn't know what to do. He most certainly isn't going to knock at this hour. It doesn't cross his mind even briefly that she's well aware he's returned and that his reaction is somehow making matters worse. It's just as well. If it had, he'd only be angrier that she hadn't either controlled the response - that was precisely what Draughts were for - preferable by far, or at least placed some Charms of her own so there were some plausible deniability here. But no. She'd done none of that.
So no, he isn't going to do a bloody thing, ridiculous elf, and he only grows cross at Sunny as well.
The wizard's scowl at the thought bothers Sunny virtually not at all, but he puts up a terrific display of concern in reply, of the sort he feels will resonate with the situation best, and that it does. Rather predictably, Severus is left feeling even more uncomfortable.
No, he won't be doing anything, instead he'll withdraw as quickly as possible to the confines of his own bedchambers, ta, where he'll have precious little compunction about placing as many Silencing Charms on as many surfaces as the situation requires, although he's banking on the stone walls between them being adequate to the task.
They bloody well better be.
Not that he plans on saying as much. No, he doesn't answer at all, choosing to behave as though he hadn't heard the question.
Terribly convincing, he is sure.
Sunny, too, finds the man's performance seriously wanting, particularly in comparison with his own, but he has the good grace not to say so, but possibly only because it would defeat the purpose.
Hermione worries even more about the waxing flare of annoyance and anger and only cries harder, banishing the last of Severus' good mood from his earlier practice session as effectively as if she'd Depulsoed it.
Splendid.
Briefly he considers leaving, returning to the Come and Go Room and getting some rest there. It's a largely useless idea, one of so many of late, offering no protection from the bond's less than subtle attack. If it were ever going to, if it were actually capable of such a thing, shielding him from their bond, it would have done so while he was using the Room earlier. He'd certainly wished for it fervently enough.
Purposefully he stalks into the lounge, past the incredibly soft blanket draped once more over over the back of the couch, fleetingly proud he hadn't felt the need to grab it. Or at least hadn't succumbed to it. If he isn't comforting the witch - of course he isn't, what perfect nonsense - then he doesn't need to take her blanket for his own comfort either. Whatever else, he's principled.
Or stubborn.
Probably that.
But he certainly doesn't need the blanket. What rubbish. He hasn't the least need of coddling. Or for any of the softer things. Of course not. Which doesn't explain the effort he'd gone to to make his home nicer, or to carve the damn balustrade just this evening... Still, he leaves the blanket lying there with nothing more than a sidelong glance as he strides through the room.
There's something uncomfortably familiar about a wife sobbing behind closed doors that has him nontrivially displeased. He does his utmost not to think of his parents and their disastrous marriage and almost succeeds. Off to a cracking start he is, continuing in the 'proud' tradition of Snape...
Now supremely annoyed, he proceeds to his room, forgoing the cup of tea in front of the fire that he'd intended to have after his workout. These are some of his favourite hours of the week, he'd already forgone Sunday's session for this intolerable bonding, and now... this.
He has no desire to hang about here any longer than absolutely necessary.
He briefly considers asking Sunny to bring him a tea, but he's quite sure the tiny elf will just make that sad little face at him again and only guilt him further.
Instead he keeps moving past him and into his bedroom, shutting the door rather forcibly behind him.
He'll have a shower instead. That usually makes him feel better.
Sunny stands there staring at the door now closed behind the Master, trying to assess where he'd gone wrong. Perhaps he shouldn't have directly implied the wizard needed to sort this. It's usually best if he believes ideas are his own.
More successful, at any rate.
The elf had been quite certain the man wouldn't be able to sit there sipping his tea in front of her door with the witch sobbing her heart out just the other side of it, and he'd been right. Of course, given they're bonded, he'd counted on the wizard doing something about it. The total retreat hadn't been at all to plan.
Although he'll allow it was probably more in character...
Hmm.
Perhaps the Snivelling Jinx Sunny had used on the Mistress had been too strong...
Momentarily, he feels ever so slightly guilty about that, but it couldn't be avoided, he's quite certain. Needs must. It was all very sensible, he is sure.
Somehow the Master has to come to understand his responsibility here.
Sunny will simply have to give it another think.
Theo turns restlessly in his bed, failing to sleep. Gregory's sconce is still burning, a Lumos further provides light as he tries to finish his work. Care of Magical Creatures from the sound of it; one of the texts keeps making faint snorfling noises, only just audible over Vince's snores, despite the Calming Charm Gregory cast. Passingly Theo wonders if that means his roommate's spell wasn't adequate to the task, or the text is just that aggressive. Considering Gregory and Hagrid, both were strong possibilities.
Gregory's faint grunts of complaint as he works (his Privacy Charm is definitely not up to snuff) provide a sort of score to Theo's bout of insomnia, often rather unfortunate in their timing. He's been doing a lot of thinking about Megan Jones, trying to recall everything he knows about a witch whose life they've apparently ruined, or at least seriously derailed. It's troublesome to realise how little he knew about someone he's gone to school with for more than six years. He'd had a third of his pre-O.W.L.s classes with the girl after all. Admittedly since then they've only sat Herbology together... Still, it's a good deal of time spent with someone to emerge with virtually no knowledge of the person behind the name.
It strikes him that's true of a good many of his classmates, really, and he wonders if that anonymity had made it any... easier for them to destroy her thoroughly enough she'd felt she had to leave school.
The thought turns his stomach, and not for the first time he wonders how Draco can sleep.
That's immediately answered with thoughts of the Manor, where his father is hiding along with Draco's father and the others who'd escaped from Azkaban, and Theo considers any of a number of evenings he'd been forced to spend there this past summer, and he decides this pails utterly in comparison. It's little wonder Draco is able to sleep. If this had been sufficient to keep him up, he'd never sleep at all any more. Probably not since the end of fourth year, if he's being realistic.
A sobering notion, but it makes Theo think about why this feels so different to him then...
It's not that he's remotely comfortable with the goings on at the Manor - he's most certainly not, they terrify him - it's just that he hasn't really been asked to... take part. His own involvement here - undefined, but still - made a crucial difference. And ultimately, it makes an even greater difference that... whatever they'd done, they done it to some they know.
Fine, they don't really know her, but she was a classmate, damn it. Not some stranger the Snatchers had dragged in. He just can't believe, doesn't want to believe that hadn't made more of a difference to the others as well.
Theo spends a long time staring at the heavy cloth canopy of his bed, listening to Vince's snores and the sounds of Gregory's quill scratching on parchment and the low growls of his text, wondering just how the others could have done what they did. Or who had done what, exactly. And whose idea it had been. And finally wondering even more how much it would bother any of them if they still knew the details.
The answer to that thought costs him a great deal of sleep.
Feeling strangely helpless, and vaguely inadequate - and doesn't he just appreciate that - Severus prepares for bed.
Disrobing without the aid of a Divesto - how Muggle, but he's never especially cared for the feel of the Spell yanking his clothing off over his head, and it wreaks havoc on his hair - with a flick of his hand, Severus cleans his robes, and with another he Banishes them to the wardrobe, his boots marching along behind, parking themselves tidily under the bed. His shirt, socks and pants are summarily sent to the laundry basket, and as he pads barefooted and in the altogether into the bathroom, his pyjamas waft in behind him as though on a nonexistent breeze, folding themselves neatly together before coming to rest beside the sink. It's been decades since he's thought twice about the flurry of motion a few simple gestures of his hand produce.
He steps into the shower, turns and finally begins to relax again as the hot water cascades over him. He brings his hands up, cupping the water to his face, as though he could rinse the stress of the day from himself, liberally lathers himself with his signature soap, and then sets to washing his hair. He enjoys the sensation of his fingers massaging his scalp, he always has, except as he's doing so tonight the recollection from Friday of the feel of a certain witch's nails dragging against his skin comes unbidden to mind.
It's enough to stop him in his tracks.
He stares at the wall now to his right; only this wall and a few yards separate them. It's a strange thought. Particularly in his present state of... undress.
That calls something else to mind, a fleeting concern from earlier that she could be next door, half naked with his Salve applied to her scar, and with a wry huff of dark humour, dark and presumably thoroughly inappropriate, he acknowledges that she most certainly hasn't tried that, small mercies, or she'd be in a much better mood. Hmm.
So perhaps it would have been better after all...
He feels a bit of a cad for thinking it.
More so, on consideration, for thinking about it while he himself isn't clothed. It strikes him as more than passing odd, this discovery that he's apparently developed a whole new set of inhibitions in the past few days. But there's something disquieting about performing his ablutions with thoughts of the witch careening about his mind. He can just hear her teasing him, how unfitting it all is for such a 'fearsome Death Eater'...
With a twinge it occurs to him that he prefers her teasing to her tears.
He sighs. Surely there's something to be done about that.
He ducks back under the jets of water, willing himself to relax, but not to Occlude, making a concerted effort to see if he can affect her mood by regulating his own. It's a simple variation on the meditative exercises he'd practised when he first learnt Occluding. It's the work of moments before his breathing becomes more regular. Calming himself, however, proves more difficult than usual under her emotional barrage.
He turns again and braces himself against the wall in front of him, leaning into the shower of water, bowing his head forward and allowing its steaming warmth to pour over his head and shoulders and down his back, washing the last of the suds from his hair. It's an exercise in visualisation, he pictures his cares, her cares flowing from him with the soap and water that pools momentarily at his feet as it makes its way to the drain.
He doesn't know how long he remains there - if he's honest, it's not nearly as long as he'd feared - before he can feel the change in her.
Slowly but surely, she too begins to quiet and in time relax. Encouraged by the progress, he keeps at it until he finally deems it a success, pleased to be able to end his shower before he's thoroughly pruned.
Briefly it flashes through his thoughts that he should be annoyed at having to maintain a serene air in order to get any peace of his own, but the thought is counterproductive and the trade off is well worthwhile, at least if he'd like to get any sleep.
That is unless he'd like to kip on the couch again...
Sober, he hasn't adequate words for what he thinks of his behaviour the previous night, and immediately abandons that line of thought; it's hardly conducive to serenity. But if this is what it takes to not spend another night like Sunday's, awake and miserably tossing and turning, it's undoubtably worth the effort.
Hermione can feel her breathing evening out, her pulse slowing down. It's odd, these are things she usually achieves with Professor Taylor's meditation exercises, but she hasn't performed any. She wonders if she's done so many of them this term that the results set in of their own accord, but dimly she thinks she'd still have to do the exercises first, wouldn't she? Her thoughts jumble but she's too tired to work it out now, she's just thankful that the crying jags seem over.
She's knackered, absolutely exhausted. Her eyes are heavy and sleep seems near.
With sleep the furthest thing from her mind, Millie lies in her bed clutching her Maine Coon Malley.
"I'm sorry," she whispers over and over again into her fur, slowly becoming slick from her tears. There's no fear, no trepidation in her pet's eyes. Although usually the first to tout the animal's intelligence, with all the guilt Millie's feeling, tonight she interprets that as a complete lack of understanding instead of the forgiveness it is.
When her kitty's sandpapery tongue begins to try to rasp away her tears, the seventh year only cries harder.
It's a true measure of the cat's devotion that she doesn't once try to squirm from the young woman's grasp.
Pansy, still not asleep in the bed next to hers, surreptitiously casts a Privacy Charm for her friend. It'll fade by the morning. And in the meantime, it was probably the least Mil deserved.
Harper wakes, rubbing his stomach.
It's tender alright.
He's not sure if Tracey's Pain Relief is still good, mostly because he's not sure of the hour. He trusts her capabilities implicitly, certainly when it comes to brewing. He doesn't feel like casting a Tempus, unwilling to give up on sleep enough to reach for his wand and focus. He should probably work on performing that one wandlessly as well... He tries to distract himself from the ache - Vince is an utter plank - with thoughts of what things might be like if Aaron's suspicions about the seventh year supplying Smith's potions were to prove correct, and he and Tracey are able to take over brewing for the House...
The extra Galleons would be very welcome.
And it helps, too, that it would hit Vince where it hurts. Particularly just now that's a satisfying thought. He rubs his belly again.
Feeling slightly like he's channeling Blaise for a moment - it's probably all down to the robe - he smirks and thinks that Vince can just kiss his magnificent black arse. He has to laugh at the bravado. It's really more typical of Sheldon than him, and after over five years sharing a room together, Sheldon still hasn't rubbed off on him enough for that to feel 'right'.
But it would certainly be nice to get one up on the beater. Harper could use a win.
He falls back to sleep with thoughts of brewing circulating through his head. And if now and again Daphne pops by to tell him he's done especially well in those dreams? Hey, he's only human.
Severus exits the bath still towelling his hair and is slightly disappointed to discover there's no cup of tea waiting for him on his nightstand. He'd hoped Sunny would have addressed that deficit without asking. He still has no intention of calling for the elf to have it delivered however. He banishes the towel and climbs into bed, but before he can Nox the sconces, the blanket he'd so deliberately left in the lounge suddenly appears, draped across his bed.
He can't help reaching for it. The weave flows through his fingers as though a fluid heat, all silken warmth and comfort. Petulantly he considers Banishing it back to the lounge - principles! or cussed stubbornness... - but the thing truly is ridiculously soft and smells ever so pleasant. He finally decides not to fight it. He doesn't turn down Sunny's excellent meals, either, does he? If he truly wished to be an ascetic, he'd be living off the Infirmary gruel. Why should a perfectly lovely blanket be any different? He wraps himself in it and inhales deeply, a scent he can't quite identify tickles its way deep into his brain, nesting somewhere instinctive and cementing the decision to keep the blanket for the night. But as he pulls it more tightly about him, his calm seems less and less an affectation, more natural than something artificially achieved by effort.
It helps, because he's not at all comfortable lying in his bed thinking of the witch next door. The bond, the change in their rings is making it impossible not to, but it leaves him feeling like a dirty old man, a lech, something he needed like a leaky cauldron. He's not sure which is worse, thinking about her here or in the shower...
It's something of a struggle, maintaining his calm, banishing stray thoughts, not letting his aggravation at having to do so undo all the progress he's made with the witch and her... mood. There are moments, brief bursts of irritation. At her, at Albus, at himself for consenting to the bonding... But he can feel her begin to drift off, surrendering to sleep, at it provides sufficient motivation that ultimately he doesn't waver.
The Snivelling Jinx takes a great deal out of a person, and for her part, Hermione is only too happy to finally nod off and be shut of the day.
The others have long since Noxed their sconces, and Gregory's is the only Lumos left lit in the room. He rubs the fatigue from his eyes and soldiers on. If not in this text, surely the answer will be in the next...
The fallacy of that thought process really should be clear to someone in N.E.W.T. Care of Magical Creatures, Gregory has had since third year to become accustomed to the half giant's teaching style, and the chances that the blasted Blast-Ended Skrewts will appear in any tome are so low as to approximate zero. That's a problem inherent in the creation of hybrid species and possibly half the reason such experiments are illegal to begin with. There's just no telling what could happen, and little to nothing is known about those potential results... But Gregory is tired, he's had a long day and is thinking even less clearly than usual, and instead of giving up like Vince had done two hours ago, Gregory struggles on, determined to achieve a good result. This subject matters to him, although not for the first time - today even - he fervently wishes Hagrid would cover something more useful, more appealing... Like Puffskeins, for instance.
No one seems to care about raising Puffskeins anymore.
Do they think blankets grow on trees?
Nevertheless, he keeps at until he's got an answer to every single question on the problem set. He's not certain they're the right answers. He's not even certain there are any right answers, really, but they're answers that more or less fit, and he needn't be embarrassed to submit his work in class tomorrow. This was an honest effort and a decent effort, and he's fairly well pleased.
Hopefully Hagrid will see it the same way.
Beyond exhausted, he puts his things away for the morning, Noxes his light and is asleep before his head has sunk fully into his pillow.
What a pity that when Sunny does his rounds in the wee hours of the night, seeing to Severus' errand, that Gregory's CMC assignment is one of the things he absconds with.
Severus lies there staring unseeing into the darkness. He thinks about the effort he expended to calm the witch, not that he hadn't done it primarily for himself, naturally, but he considers it. It surprises him how much of a struggle it had been to maintain his concentration. For something that superficially seems to have so many commonalities with Occluding, a skill he's demonstrably well and truly honed, this had been a real battle. He wonders if that means it's good practice, offering a chance to refine some mental faculties he hasn't previously, or if this will ultimately prove so taxing that he falters on the other front as well.
That would be just his luck.
He considers how best to employ Occlusion moving forward. It really is about protecting himself; good gods, she had certainly let him have it this evening. He imagines it's worse at night, when she has nothing to distract her, when he has nothing to distract him... Ah, and of course she won't be taking the potion at night. And whose bloody brilliant idea was that? Hmm? To have her not take it nights as well? He can't help the thought and the self-recriminations that follow.
'Hmm' again.
Once more, it's practically automatic, he weighs the pros and cons, but then he'd done that before making his recommendation, hadn't he? It's unreasonable to expect a different outcome. No matter what he might want the conclusion to be, he'd been right in the first place. The inconvenience of that truth doesn't in any way lessen its veracity.
That doesn't mean he has to like it, clearly, but he resolves to stop revisiting the idea of the Draught as a potential solution. It is not.
At the least, he'll stop attaching blame to it. That alone should help. This is neither her fault, nor his.
That should make for a nice change.
He's annoyed to be thinking of her, but she's made it unavoidable. Which isn't correct. The bond has.
And he isn't thinking of her so much as of ways to cope with that self same bond.
Still, he tries turning away from their shared walls. Maybe that will help. And although he finds himself trying it again and again, somehow he keeps rolling back, always ending up facing her direction. He tries to tell himself it was his preferred side.
Secretly, he's pretty sure he doesn't have one.
So he lies there, a bit restlessly, thinking. He can't help thinking, but his thoughts aren't unkind. He's trying to bring himself to make allowances for the witch, her situation, her recent experiences... There's a brief flare of indignation, certainly Monday evening at the Manor was worse... But then he's used to it. It's no excuse to allow himself to wallow. Not that he's saying the witch is...
He tries couching it all in terms of the emotional turmoil of being a student. He can certainly think of several thoroughly miserable memories from his own student days. They'd seemed important enough at the time. A case might even be made that his present predicament stems entirely from that, although he thinks it's more accurate to say it's a question of guilt. This time of year always has him maudlin. He turns to face her side of the flat once yet again - coincidentally, surely - as he determines he should try to be more generous towards Miss Granger. When he told her that some days it was preferable to face the Death Eaters than to be a student, there was definitely some truth to it.
Of course that should make reliving the troublesome years of adolescence vicariously via his child bride a particular joy...
He has to wonder, reflecting on his shower, why he's never installed the jets in his own bath that he'd put in the witch's. The pressure is lovely, certainly, the castle had always had that to recommend it, but he's simply never put in the extra effort for his own facilities. If such modifications were necessary, or even desirable, why hadn't he? He was obviously capable of the Transfiguration and it really hadn't taken much time... He suspects it's all to do with proving he's a better provider than Tobias had been. And no, those jets are clearly not necessary. But perhaps he'll treat himself to the change... It might be nice.
He stifles a yawn and pulls the blanket a bit tighter around him once more. He tries to apply his mind to something useful, trying to think up ways to make the Loyalty Vow work as intended. How to test it. How to use Albus for that purpose... What can Severus afford to let slip in the process... If there are no stakes, would the magic be triggered? How much does psychology play a role? Is it enough for her to believe her actions are disloyal? Is that the only factor? Had she objectively been disloyal up to now? And if not - and he suspects not, which half surprises him - is that cause for hope that the magic will intervene after all?
When has he ever been that lucky?
While the thoughts steal some of the peace his meditative state had lent him, he nevertheless remains calm, at ease. He has to wonder how much of a difference the blanket is making, because the issues aren't easy ones. In which case it's fairly remarkable.
As a logical extension of his contemplations on her Loyalty Vow, his thoughts soon drift to their discussion of it earlier. It's inextricably coupled to her reaction to his Salve. That proves a pleasant thought to doze off to, he considers with a yawn; he'd liked its reception, after all. That had been nice. He's less comfortable with her idea for applying it to the rest of her scar, and there, just like that, the thrice damned bikini comes to mind. He'd be embarrassed to admit the speed with which he resorts to Occluding. He yawns once more, tucks the blanket under his cheek to better cover his neck, and there's a passing (and slightly grudging) thought as sleep claims him that with his luck, the black bikini will undoubtedly put in another appearance in his dreams during the course of the night.
It escapes him that when it does, it will be preferable, by far, to the nightmares he's accustomed to having, but then he doesn't yet fully... appreciate the changes in his life.
A/N:
🍾Happy New Year, everyone! 🎉 Glad we've made it into a new decade, this is so going to be better than the last. *nods* 🍀
And! If you're looking for something else to read, I got the Harry Potter Lego Advent Calendar
And then I arted as part of the sshg-giftfest. I won't tell you which one, so if you want to be supportive, you get to go support them all... lol, but honestly as I'm probably the least talented of the pack, the rest really deserve it. There are also a boatload of fics in the fest, and not all of them will find their way over to AO3, so maybe give it a look. It starts here.
LJ also has a few other fests going with a bunch of authors and artists you'd probably recognise, hoggywartyxmas is in its tenth year, and the minifest is back again.
![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif){kind=small}
mywitch has once again made an advent calendar of her own with some absolutely stunning work. (That woman is just a gobsmacking combination of talent and productivity... Oof!) And Snapecase has begun as of today. (The links take you to the starting points of the respective fests on LJ. If you use the arrow buttons, you can click your way through them.)And that's pretty much it for me for now. I hope everyone started the year off well and that it just keeps right on going that way for you... Hugs, G. ❤️
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Second, ah some much needed rest for everyone. I like how you did pan of the dungeon, giving a glimps of all the snakes in their respective beds.
Third, that shower seen was pretty hot, without being sexual, well done!
Fourth, favorite quote from this chapter: "Of course that should make reliving the troublesome years of adolescence vicariously via his child bride a particular joy..." bahahahaha child bride... But seriously who in their right minds would want to go back to their troublesome years of adolescence! Not me!!!
Finally, happy new year and thank you so much for all the time, energy and effort you put into this fic!
P.s. The advent lego fic was thoroughly enjoyable to follow along on with you. I loved the twist you put on (in my opinion) the meanest words Severus uttered in the entire series.
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Excellent. Severus strikes me as a shower thinker, so there we go. Glad that also worked for someone other than me.
Nope, one and done on the adolescence front and ever so grateful for that fact. Can you imagine having to Groundhog Day it? Yikes.
Thanks, maraj, that means so much. ❤️
Oh! And there's the first of the epilogues to the advent fic, presently up in my journal here. (The 'Happy Birthday, Severus' edition.) (I think I'll try getting some lego builds to go with it before putting it in gingerbredshaus, but today was just too busy for that...)
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Wishing you a magnificent new year, with as many of your desires reaching fruition as possible!!!
More in a bit, last nights event had strobing lights galore... a smidge migraine inducing they were. Light hurts... rest, be back. :-) <3
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This year is going to be better than the last, E. Let's make a pact on that. *hugs*
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Yes, a pact! Ummmm, which kind... pinky swear, spit shake, ...?
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You know, the pinkies are doing surprisingly well lately. 😊 (And blood magic is heavily frowned upon... Wouldn't do to have the Aurors show up, pounding at our doors... Well, unless they're cute. But then I gather they're largely humourless knobs... Too sad. *sigh*)
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Agreed, most of the Aurors were that, with a few lovely exceptions, Tonks & Shacklebolt come to mind?
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I saw season one of Lucifer a while back (by which I mean years). Rather liked the actor (whose name escapes me, but iirc, he sang beautifully), less fond of the police lady and the drama with her ex. Oo! Liked his... brother was it? The angel who kept putting in an appearance. They played nicely off one another.
Tonks at least was given a bit of a role, but Kingsley wasn't fleshed out nearly enough aside from a (fairly unexplored) willingness to appear on pirate radio and 'not being nearly the pill most aurors were'. (Seriously, if I could magic, I wouldn't hang about being such a drag. Where's the joy and wonder, people?)
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He does have a lovely voice, and yeah the cop crap was meh, but his play off of his brother angel was very cool. Things got uglier later in series.
I think JKR left a lot of characters too skinny, especially the cool ones, but that does leave the door open for you exceptionally talented authors to flesh them out in much better ways!? Same here, if I could magic, I'd be enjoying the world, and hopping around visiting my SSHG friends! :-D
Going to Temptations concert, have a happy Sunday!
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That was the problem with it being a children's story. I'd love to see the adult version of it someday. (By which I don't mean the sex, but what the adults were actually up to.)
The concert sounds like a great time! 😃
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I'd be curious to see the adult perceptions from Severus, Minerva, Poppy, Kingsley, Tonks and some others. Just not interested in Dumble's internal rhetoric or Riddle's trot down insanity lane. No interest in the ravings of either of Severus' Masters. humph
The concert was a blast, had such fun singing along to all the old favorites. I got 2 extra tickets & gave them to our military Veterans friends who had a marvelous time too.
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I think Severus' version would be interesting (obviously, as I'm trying to write some of that). Minerva's, I suspect would have made me dislike the character, because there's no good explanation for a lot of her inaction, and the bad explanations aren't going to make me like her better. The Poppy version could probably be alright, but I'm not sure it's all that interesting as far as the war goes, because she was kept well clear. (But the trials and tribulations of a Mediwitch has to be somewhat juicy stuff, just that it's primarily other people's stories.) Kingsley and Tonks, on the other hand, should be very intriguing, because there wasn't enough 'played for laughs' crap in canon that you'd have to fight against to present their sides of the war. You have a fairly open and interesting characters to explore.
Yeah, not fond of Albus or Riddle, tbh.
That's especially nice to go as a group. Glad you all had fun. 😊
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I love how is Severus slowly figuring out the bond, but he's brilliant so not that surprising. Him calming Hermione via their bond was so sweet, not gonna lie, can't wait when he's gonna calm her in person *wink*. And vice versa of course, I can't imagine the stress he must be under ... Hermione will need a lot of support to truly deal with what happened on Friday, hope that Harry won't be a jerk and be there for her as well, if not Severus can always hex him. Sunny has his agenda and I live for it, my third favourite character (after the Snapes of course). Thank you Ginger, you are the best.
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There's a happy birthday to Severus epilogue to the advent fic here (If you read the advent fic, that is. Might not make heaps of sense without it.) And Happy New Year to you, too. 😊
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BIKINI MENTION.
Poor Millie. :((
And Sunny oh my lord, has to play it cooler. Those two aren’t stupid and will figure it out!
Great chapter. He’s soooooooooo terrible at the whole “dealing with another persons emotions thingy”, yet also improving with leaps and bounds.
Great chapter!
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Yes, the bikini that insists on haunting him. Stupid bits of cloth. Feh.
She's a Slytherin, not alone and they're not without resources. If I had to pick a group to work on the problem, it would be them or the Ravenclaws, and the Slytherins are probably better at the specific kind of out of the box thinking that might be most useful here. (But her mum's a complete arse either way.)
House elves, as Auntie Hibs put it, are a menace. There are advantages to dealing with people who chronically underestimate you and are seriously preoccupied to boot.
Doubt he deals with his own all too well, dealing with others' emotions should prove... challenging.
Thanks! 😘
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Your author's note, sobs, with the same sort of happy expectations for 2020 that I had — well, that didn't quite work out, did it... Still if only 2020 and 2021 are f*cked, perhaps the following 8 years will make up for it. Yes, that. ;)
I have to say again that I love your omniscient point of view in your writing. It's so satisfying to know what everyone is thinking and you do it so brilliantly.
I am really feeling for Millie and her lovely cat. I seriously want to have words with her mother. What a beast. And I am also feeling sympathetic to the pygmy puff-lovin' Gregory. All that work... Well, it's still a good punishment I suppose. I reckon he wouldn't mind a detention with Hagrid...
Delighted that Sunny managed to get Severus snug in the blanket, and I do hope he treats himself to some nicer bath amenities, it's only fair after all. Although I also hope that they will just get past all the uncertainty and hop in the bath together! ;D
Thanks for the shout out! I appreciate it! My productivity seems to completely disappear post-xmas, but hopefully it'll find its way back soonish. xxx
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