HP fic- "Letter(s) to Hermione (Section J-1: Initial Contact)"
Title: Letter(s) to Hermione (Section J-1: Initial Contact)
Rating: M
Warning(s): None
Genre/Category: Drama, General, Friendship, Humour, Romance
Summary: In the future, the writers and editors of Hogwarts, A History have decided to spice things up a bit and include more of the personal details of the lives of Wizards and Witches throughout history. Take a gander at this excerpt from the chapter on Granger/Snape! (For mayadidi per the SSHG exchange on lj)
x-posted at Ashwinder, the SS/HG community, and the SS/HG exchange site.
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Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.
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Letter(s) to Hermione (Section J-1: Initial Contact)
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Hogwarts, A History- The Year 2525 Edition
Chapter 10: The Lives and Loves of Famous Hogwarts Students
Section J: Severus Snape and Hermione Granger
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Notes on Chapter 10: The Lives and Loves of Famous Hogwarts Students
In this special interactive edition of Hogwarts, A History, the authors and editors of the volume have made the decision to include more personal details, including correspondence and photos, of our most famous Wizards and Witches. While the tendency of this title in the past has been to focus on more of the dry, though we must add, utterly important facts regarding the centuries of our hallowed institution, it has come to our attention that the modern reader clamours for a bit more. In order to meet the demands of the masses who seem to care more about how many times the late and lamented Gilderoy Lockhart won Witch Weekly’s “Most Charming Smile Award” rather than the details of the Goblin Wars, we have allowed for the inclusion of what we would have called in the past frippery and nonsense, but now must file under the heading of “history.” To wit, we give you this chapter, filled with perfume-saturated handkerchiefs, Portkeys from secret liaisons, and, of course, the ubiquitous love note.
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Notes on Section J: Severus Snape and Hermione Granger:
The authors and editors of this volume wish to make a special note regarding the epistolary nature of the Granger/Snape romance. Though it may seem to our readers that the following letters are merely elements of espionage, we beg of them to continue to the end and to “read between the lines,” as it were. (Please note: no spells or charms should be needed to do so. The reader, hopefully, will be able to figure such things out of their own accord. Unless you are a member of the Crabbe or Goyle family. If you are, please contact our Hogwarts: A History Hotline by Floo for further assistance.)
The below correspondence was sent during a period starting in early September, 1997, and ending with the defeat of Voldemort in the fall of 1998. As such missives were clandestine, exact dates of the following are not known, but are believed to have travelled back and forth with some frequency. We have broken them down into various sections of the Snape/Granger connection for ease of reference.
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Section J-1: Initial Contact
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Dear Sir,
I have it on the authority of a most insistent portrait that it would be wise to seek your council regarding a Potions issue. However, as you are currently unreachable by common means, as seems to be the case with most fugitives from the law, not to mention good society, I am sending this owl with a special charm that will hopefully find you in your current location. It is charmed in such a way that this message can only be read by yourself and contains additional measures which will prevent you from speaking of its existence with any of your black-shrouded cohorts on the off chance that your loyalties do not truly lie where I’ve been told. Please notify me if you have indeed received my letter and would be willing to answer a query that may help “the Cause.”
Yours reservedly,
Hermione Jane Granger
P.S. If you are intending to reply to this letter in an attempt to give information to the creature who, I have been told, is supposedly no longer your master, please do me the courtesy of destroying this letter at once. I believe you owe all of the people you betrayed- oh, I beg your pardon- seemingly betrayed at least that much.
***
Dear Miss Granger, who would do well to keep her identity a secret,
The first rule of espionage is to hide your intentions. You only provide that information which is absolutely necessary in order to elicit the desired effect. So your very Gryffindor stab at honesty in the beginning of your missive, while completely predictable for someone who could not be subtle even if her romantic entanglements with one of the multitudes of Weasleys depended on it, is rather unsuited for gaining information from your opponent. And let’s be clear here; though you lay claim to some knowledge as to my loyalties, you understand nothing. Do not assume. Do not suppose. And certainly do not think to bring me into your childish games with the proposed endgame of saving Wizardkind from its dark fate. I’ve already been down that road with someone else who thought he could affect change in our future, and now he is dead. I rather think you do not hope to share the same end.
No regards or salutations. And I regret to inform you that I, unlike yourself, will not provide a signature in case of prying eyes. (Really, Miss Granger, magic isn’t perfect- would you truly leave the safety of your “quest” to the promise of a few hastily applied charms?)
Do not attempt to contact me again. You are not the only one who knows charms and spells.
***
Dear Sir,
I believe that my intent in using honesty was to demonstrate that I am willing to show my cards, so to speak, if you are willing to show yours. While you criticize my modus operandi, I say instead, shouldn’t we play to our strengths? If a Slytherin uses deception as a weapon, wouldn’t it make sense for a Gryffindor to do the same with honesty? No matter our diverse opinions on strategy, I was able to elicit certain information I desired and am pleased to see that you are still the same vicious and ugly man I remember from your not too far past days at a certain academic institution.
I’ve also learned from your response, brought on by your distaste for my methods, that you are somewhat willing to keep our correspondence shielded from the purview of your cohorts. If not, would you have strengthened that sufficient, though admittedly borderline, security measure I used on my initial note in sending your response? This, as well as the content of your letter, is some small, though hardly irrefutable, evidence that the “truths” of a posthumous painting may be of some merit. So indeed, I have gleaned the information I wanted after all.
You play the game your way, I’ll play it mine.
Miss G.
***
Dear Miss G.
Oh, how clever you are using an initial instead of your full name! Really, why not just give the Dark Lord your current location, a detailed outline of your intent, and even your blood type? Somehow, it strikes me that that would make up for how easy you’re making your potential discovery. And do me the courtesy of not proclaiming to be at your supposed place of education, as it is well known among the circles in which I travel that you and your compatriots have embarked on a solo mission, beyond the purview of your legal guardians during the term. Which rather supports my forthwith dismissal of any further correspondence from or to you.
I refuse to play pen pal with a overeager young woman who is so desperate to leave behind her bushy-haired, beaver-toothed “former self” in favour of a two dimensional spy-like persona that she’ll make such silly, juvenile, and dangerous mistakes.
The time for me to risk life and limb for empty promises and sketchy endeavours is over and done. I suggest you find another way to make a feeble attempt at ending the reign of my Lord and then go home to your dormitory with your pumpkin juice where you belong.
Again, no regards or salutations.
***
Dear Sir,
I do understand your reticence in helping me, as it mirrors my own in trusting you even one iota. But I seem to have hit a roadblock in my work which unfortunately renders you my only hope. So, your nasty comments and attempts at convincing me of your ultimate evil aside, I will ask you one more time for your assistance. I assure you that I will only give you the smallest amount of information necessary for you to answer my questions, thereby putting you in very little danger of suspicion if you are truly still working on the side of the light. If your affiliations have changed back like most expect they have, then I will not have provided you enough clues to give you even a hint of what may or may not be attempted for the Cause. So it seems to me that you are in a win-win situation- you answer my questions, are not put in any danger, and get to rid yourself of the annoyance of a persistent, bushy-haired, formerly beaver-toothed Gryffindor know-it-all.
True, you could still refuse to provide me with the information I require, but then I might have to go into some large sermon about your immortal soul and the evils done, etc., etc., and the possible chance at penance and redemption. I hope I can spare us both that needless discussion as well as your inevitable eye rolling.
Expecting your cooperation,
The only person who could be sending you such correspondence.
p.s. And yes, I’m aware that our absence from school has been noted. Do you now understand the urgency of my request?
p.p.s. My blood type? O positive. One wonders whether such fascination with blood renders all those rumours about your nocturnal activities correct.
***
Dear Correspondent,
Gryffindors are often known for their “bravery,” but I have always known that trait to in fact be merely a tendency toward unmitigated gall. You do your House proud with your pretensions when you have only a child’s understanding of what truly damns a soul. Nothing can save me from that fate, so I fear you have less than nothing to hold over my head. I have committed my “sins,” have foolishly struggled to atone, and ended up committing atrocities in the process. So please forgive me if I refuse the chance to redeem myself once more. It will only serve to “damn” me even further.
I quite prefer knowing at which circle of hell I’ll be residing and see no need to vie for alternative real estate.
Signed,
The person who will no longer be replying to your letters.
p.s. While you may be a Grade A annoyance, that barely ranks you above the affect of a fly buzzing around a rotting corpse. So much noise and excitement around someone who could not give a damn about its presence.
p.p.s. Who do you think cultivated the myth about my Vampirism in the first place? Sometimes the best forms of intimidation are the most latent. You would do well to remember that.
***
Dear Sir,
We’re wasting time. Our friend in the portrait said I might have difficulties convincing you to give assistance due to your penchant for self-hatred. Unsurprisingly, he was right. So, I’ll say this: helping me will be an extension of the promise you made to him the night you raised your wand and silenced him forever. And if you mean to argue your case and plead ignorance as to what this refers, I was instructed to tell you that sometimes the most powerful promises are made with a locking of eyes and the drawing of a last breath.
Then I was told to offer you a sherbet lemon, but that seems to be difficult in our current form of conversation.
In any event, I will once again use that formidable Gryffindor honesty and tell you that I am not sure what this “agreement” entails. And yes, I did ask a certain scar-headed friend who was a witness to your horrific act that night as to what this could be referring, but he was as confused on the issue as the portrait was silent. Still, while I don’t trust you as far as I could wingardium leviosa you, I do trust the man who told me this information, even if he is little more than canvas, paint, and memories.
Please do me the courtesy of including your acceptance of future correspondence in your next letter.
Thank you,
Your real estate agent
***
Send me the information you have and I will look it over. I promise nothing.
***
Dear Sir,
Your lack of formality or any pretension of civility in your last message aside, I am pleased at your acceptance.
Please find the attached list of potion ingredients and potential variables, along with accompanying Arithmancy figures. I have given you a vague idea of the intent of the potion aspect of a potential course of action, but nothing more.
Do try not to be offended,
Eager in Edinburgh
***
Dear Eager,
Attached are my suggestions for possible substitutions and adaptations for the information you have sent me. The use of your four major elements would seem to hint at some sort of transportation device, while the inclusion of others hints at a method for protection.
I am mildly intrigued by your combinations, along with the route of Arithmancy used to arrive at your suppositions, but am more so convinced that they are a product of happenstance rather than any true talent on your part.
Yours,
Glad to be done with this silly assignment.
***
Dear Sir,
In a previous letter, you said that some of the best forms of intimidation are the most latent, but from your last response I must say that sometimes the best forms of information are latent as well. I am positive that, in giving me suggestions regarding the elements of my potion, you were sure to check and double check my Arithmancy, no doubt looking for every potential flaw. That you were able to return my findings without any “red marks” and were in addition more than able to provide me with suggestions lets me know that your positive assessment does indeed have something to do with the products of my “true talent.” I do hope that this does not sully your view of Gryffindors. I would hate to think that you could find them at all to have potential.
I’m not sure that the Earth could stand to be shaken so to its core.
In regards to your suggestions, thank you very much. They were illuminating. I hope, as a continuation of our agreement, that I may be able to send you further queries in the future if need be.
Yours,
The woman who knows that the assignment isn’t over yet
***
Dear Woman,
I assure you that there is no chance of me forming such opinions of Gryffindors in general, though I do hold out that there may be some chance of identifying exceptions to the rule. You would do well not to take this as a compliment, as you have yet to show me overwhelming evidence in support of such. If you must forward me more juvenile questions regarding basic Potions work, I will not only answer them but will also use them as a yardstick against which to rate your potential of becoming such an exception.
Though, of course, I do not expect miracles.
Yours,
Dreading more of your drivel
***
[Editor’s note: From the last message sent from Snape to Granger, there elapsed a period of two weeks, which we know now to be during the time in which The Golden Trio successfully destroyed the second Horcrux. The correspondence picks up shortly after this point.]
***
Dear Sir,
Though I am sure that you have quite enjoyed a respite from our conversations, I must ask for your services once more. I have attached another list of ingredients along with formulas for another potion and would appreciate your notes on the proposed efficacy.
Thank you,
Your student
***
Dear student,
My, my, but your missive was so short! Either your penchant for nattering on has fallen by the wayside of maturity, which I highly doubt, or, more likely, you and your cohorts are on the trail of yet another plan of acquisition and destruction. I hope it comes as no surprise to you that they have learned of your recent activities and that the Lord is not pleased. Many have been shocked that three children have the ability to wreak such havoc and have been pinning most of the blame on your scar-headed friend, but I rather think the creator of such mischief is of the more feminine variety.
Though it irks me to do so, I offer my congratulations, though with the admonition that, if your egos could bear it, you not make such actions so dramatic. Perhaps instead of an explosion heard from 50 kilometers away that had to be explained by Muggles as an accident at a small power plant, you could stand something smaller in scale? Sadly, I do not hold out much hope. Gryffindors are not known for their subtlety.
Attached are my recommendations. I hesitate to make any comments as to their larger applications, which seem fretfully obvious to me, as things in my situation have become more… heated. Your intentions notwithstanding, I do not trust your recent success to be anything more than a first timer’s fluke and refuse to stick my neck out from the place of my tenuous sequester.
Somewhat Sincerely,
Your teacher
***
Dear Sir,
Thank you for your latest information and suggestions. I will put them to good use shortly. As to the brevity of my recent communications, my travels do not often allow for lengthy correspondence, no matter how much I appreciate words from the outside world.
I do hope that you are not in any imminent danger. Not in any concern for your person, of course. But I would be sorely in trouble if I didn’t have such a valuable repository of Potions information handy. I’m sure you appreciate the need for pragmatism over sentiment.
Thank you,
Grateful in Guisborough
***
Dear Grateful,
I must pity you your existence if communication from me is considered to be from the outside world. As to my situation…I am back in relative solitude at the moment, on the periphery of the dealings of my compatriots. (One of the perks of being considered a genius in your field, particularly one who has proven his allegiance by an act he’d rather forget, is that you are relatively left alone while you “work.”) I find it a safe, though relatively boring, method of survival, but it is better than playing the balance between nervous bowing and scraping just for scraps of information. And as I seem to have no true conduit if I were to want to pass along helpful bits of information to another side of the conflict, I must content myself with the task of answering your missives.
Though I doubt they will continue if I detect the blatant cheek of your last message.
Barely respectfully,
A cave dweller
***
Dear Sir,
Ah, a cave! That sounds very austere and Spartan, though as it is not that much of a step down from your quarters in the dungeons, I’m sure you’re feeling quite at home. Still, as I’m aware that you had to leave the majority of your personal effects behind during your… flight… it must be not exactly the same. Find the attached package a meagre attempt at creating a better atmosphere during your confinement.
As to your…feelings of impotence regarding your current situation, I might be able to offer, if not a cure, a potential relief for your ailment. There may be a way to send information as you are sending it now, but that could wend its way to the appropriate parties. Please let me know if you are interested.
Sincerely,
Curious in Castleford
***
Dear Curious,
My confinement? I wasn’t aware that I was expecting. Really, one would think that someone of your education would be more aware of the words she chooses, unless such a connotation was intentional. (Which I’m surprisingly inclined to think it is, if your latter use of the word “impotent” and related digs are to be a clue as to your state of mind. Really, Miss Curious, your ginger-haired friend must not be providing you with suitable…outlets for this type of thought or feeling.) If so, I must doff my imaginary chapeau to your rather surprising dexterity with the English language and shaded insults. It’s actually a rather Slytherin quality- you should be quite proud.
In regards to your suggestion of a restorative to my current feeling of impotence, I assure you the feeling will pass, if it hasn’t already by the time you receive this letter. I am not a kind or altruistic man, Miss C, so the need to help others is not of overriding concern. You would do well to remember that.
As we have nothing more to speak of at this time, I bid you successful travels.
Regards,
Bored of this correspondence.
***
Dear Sir,
Bored of this correspondence? Well then, it’s a good thing that I sent you that text to fill up your time. One may have thought that you would have mentioned receiving it, even in consideration of your disdain for me, as you were born at such an age where manners were considered commonplace and a simple “thank you” not at all out of the ordinary.
But perhaps I was expecting too much.
Enjoy your solitude,
Scoffing in Scarborough
***
Dear Scoffing,
Ah, and here we see the pride of the Gryffindors rearing its ugly head! One would think that a bit of brusqueness and ill manners wouldn’t make you turn tail and run, but it seems it has. How disappointing! I guess I’ll just have to content myself with reading over this quite interesting Potions journal alone, rather than reviewing and discussing it with someone whom I have no doubt has already perused it thoroughly, as evidenced by the creases in the pages, notes in the margin, and suspiciously kinky hairs left in the binding.
A shame.
Yours,
Reading in lovely solitude.
***
Dear Sir,
You’re a right bastard. Oh, and don’t even try to take points from me for my insult as you’ll find that your authority no longer holds over that particular system since your recent escape. I could lower myself to your level and make some sort of vicious comment about the reason for your flight, etc, but as maturity has made me realize that (a) not all situations are what they seem and (b) you’re not worth the effort, I’ll let it go for now.
Still, even given your almost complete and total lack of social skills, I would be willing to correspond with you regarding some of the elements of the tome I sent you. For research purposes only, of course. I wouldn’t dream of engaging you in a friendly discourse.
Not Yours,
Annoyed in Aycliff
***
Dear Annoyed,
I wonder if you are actually in any of the places from which you’re supposedly writing- though I would hope not on the off chance that these messages were discovered- or whether you just pick the locale that aids in the alliteration of your emotional signature. I am assuming it is the latter in consideration of your age and disposition. (Questions of your maturity would not be something you should attempt to argue about with me in the context of your last rather vitriolic message.)
Still, I’ve attached some thoughts regarding Prof. Archibald Pulski’s theory on wormwood in restorative potions. If you can handle bending your mind toward more academic pursuits in the midst of all of your heroic tomfoolery, I would be willing to read your response.
Respectfully,
Someone who thanks you for not sending him Witch Weekly instead.
***
Dear Witch Weekly subscriber.
Oh, didn’t you know? I signed you up for their new lifetime plan. That way you’ll be able to read about how to get a Wizard of your very own, the best way to get rid of doxies, oh, and the proper use of shampoo. I hope you enjoy the gift.
In all seriousness, I read over your response and while I agree with your main point, I do think that you’re dismissing his secondary discussion of asphodel out of hand. While I know that the current trend is to see it as a fool’s errand to prove its efficacy in that sort of potion, I think that with further trials, particularly with the inclusion of a shaving of shark’s tooth, it might be seen as plausible. I’ve written out a larger discussion of this on the attached. Please let me know what you think.
I leave you to your potions then, but before I do… let me say that I am rather glad that you have allowed our correspondence to continue. It’s difficult to be cut off from the lectures and discussions, papers and potions assignments that usually make up a day. Things can become rather dreary, can’t they? Let this be just a little light in the darkness, then.
Yours,
Intrigued in Immingham
***
Intrigued,
I have been wracking my brain over the past few months, trying to understand why a young witch would be interested in conversing with an old, hook-nosed, greasy-haired (and, oh, yes, I understood your little dig about the shampoo; how…obvious,) and let’s not forget, murderer. But now it has become clear.
I refuse to be your charity case. Though it may do your Gryffindor sense of civic duty good to help the poor, recluse, misunderstood pariah, I assure you that I am not one of your dull galleons that can be buffed to a gleam to be brought back into the light.
While I hate to dispossess you of your charity work, I refuse to bow to your lightly shaded inferences to my situation in order to have any intellectual stimulation. My pride, whatever is left of it, does not need a cloak of respectability.
And if this has all been a part of your plan to gain my trust, then expose me to my would-be captors, consider that plan foiled.
~~~
***
Dear Infuriating,
Just when I think that our discourse can make the final turn toward positive, you take something I say out of turn and show your overtly cynical side. How can I make overtures toward friendship in light of such roadblocks?
I do not see you as a charity case, you infuriating man! Did it ever occur to you that maybe I am the one who needs the intellectual stimulation? That for all that I love my travelling companions, their affection and friendship does not always make up for what I have lost by leaving my academic haven?
When I mentioned how hard it was to be cut off from the facets of academia, I was speaking from my own perspective. Though I had foolishly hoped that you’d understand and maybe sympathize with my feelings, painting you as a tragic figure was the furthest thing from my mind. Trust me, I’ve learned from our short, and often infuriating, time exchanging letters that you are much too proud for that. Also, up until this little childish tantrum, I was beginning to think that such a description wouldn’t be near to fitting you at all.
I understand that you must be wary of my motives, as I was for a time of yours. But I have finally moved to the point where, though your tone and temper may repel me at times, I am no longer in doubt of your final allegiances. It may have taken a portrait to tell me, but it took you to convince me. If only I could convince you of my own.
Perhaps I’m a fool. You’ll say that I’m letting my foolish Gryffindor notions of honour and right versus might overpower my intellect and cold reasoning. And maybe so. But I’ve got this far allowing my instincts to be my guide, with relatively good results. I’m not going to stop trusting them now.
Yours,
Wound up in Watton
***
Dear Wound Up,
I am not often in the situation where I find myself wanting to make apologies, and now is certainly not one of those times. However, I may be able to admit that my assumptions were hasty. And especially in consideration of the relatively vacuous void of intellect in which you must be drowning due to your travelling companions, I now see that I may have been in error.
Please find my attached responses to your thoughts on the asphodel. I look forward to reading your comments.
Yours,
Humble in my hovel
p.s. Friendship is a powerful word, Miss Wound Up. I have used it before and have found myself bound by impossible promises, sandwiched between rocks and hard places. While I could simply scoff at the notion of a Slytherin and Gryffindor developing a détente, I will refrain from such a black/white perspective and will instead propose a sort of colleagues. It is less dangerous for all.
***
Dear Humble,
Humble? I think not, though I would let you know that your small concessions to my indignation are accepted gratefully. As to the idea of friends…I will still try to convince you of it, though my companions here, if they knew, would tell me I had lost my mind. In the meantime, I will settle for colleagues with a lively discourse.
Attached is my argument to your argument on the article we have been discussing. I’m also sending along the latest edition of Ars Alchemica that I could find. I’m not sure if your… benefactors…have been supplying you with the latest in the field, but I thought I’d send it along just in case.
Yours,
Waiting in Worksop
***
Dear Waiting,
I was wondering if I was your “dirty little secret”- it seems that I am. While it is admittedly for the best- it would probably not aid your quest if the other members of your little trio knew of our conversations- I wonder if you hide me in shame or in selfishness? The tangled web we weave….
Thank you for the edition of Ars Alchemica. For as much as my benefactors- I quite like the irony of that word- have given me supplies as one of their “trusted” members, they are still hesitant to provide me with current publications that might include perspectives of the “opposite side.” As the tomes I receive from them are usually of a darker nature, it is helpful to find new information from more mainstream texts.
I found the second article of particular note and am sending along my thoughts on the attached.
Yours,
Pleased in purgatory
***
Dear Pleased,
I appreciate how you’ve taken on my penchant for alliteration. I admit that the little game it has become is in and of itself a distraction, which is welcome at the current time. I won’t tell you much in regards for your own safety, but just know that my contact may be sporadic at best over the next few weeks.
In the case that I don’t get to speak with you…soon, let me say this. Get ready for more of that Gryffindor honesty that you just loathe. While you may have sent the shame/selfishness question in jest, I will tell you that my motives are most certainly more situated in the latter.
And just in case you don’t hear from me again, I will continue on that track of honesty by saying the following: no matter how much we all despised you at various points in our academic and extracurricular careers, I have always respected you. Even in that moment of most intense doubt when the world at large knew you had ended the life of a most beloved mentor, I had a hard time believing it. And when I did, when my bespectacled friend described the scene of his passing with exacting and harsh detail, my feelings were a mixture of grief, anger, and, to my surprise, disbelief. While I knew that things occurred as they did, I couldn’t understand why a man who was so reviled, so distrusted, and yet who had worked so hard at seeming redemption, could have made such a turn. Was his work for the cause of the light all an elaborate act? Or was he a man trying to do the right thing who fell victim to circumstance?
You asked before why such a bright, Gryffindor witch, who is friends with those who would hate you most, would have believed a portrait and sent you a letter asking for help. At the time, I didn’t understand it myself. But now I think that I wanted to believe that some good still existed in you. That something forced you to raise that wand and end the life on this plane of a beloved soul. I still don’t know the answer to that. I think it had something to do with the boy you were with that night and the allusions you’ve made to promises. But I think that I’ve always had an assumption of your intentions in a positive light, whether when a classmate and I encountered you and a certain diminutive, prone professor on that fateful night or in finding out the identity of the owner of my best friend’s miraculous Potions text. While so much of me wanted to believe the obvious truth, a small part told me there was more.
Funnily enough, I think that “small part” is the most Gryffindor aspect of my personality. I think you’ll find the irony in that.
So I bid you well in your endeavours, especially your attempts to undermine from within. And if those attempts have just been thoughts rather than actions, I bid you to make them happen.
We need all the help we can get.
Yours,
Determined in Doncaster
***
Dear Doncaster, or should I call you Miss Sentimental?
You’ve grown quite missish in your old age haven’t you? I expect a return letter forthwith explaining the reason for such sentiment and dripping emotion. I know you to be a Gryffindor, but now I suspect you to be a Hufflepuff in disguise.
I trust that such talk is not an indication that you are heading in a direction which will allow you to make some large, heroic gesture. I would be disappointed at your predictability.
Yours,
Hopeful in Hades
***
Dear Miss Absent,
And here I thought that my latest alliterative signature would have at least, in and of itself, provoked some sort of response, not to mention my aspersions on your House status. Please make time in your busy schedule to reprimand me for my effrontery.
Yours,
Curious in Confinement
***
Miss Nonexistent,
I have not received the latest edition of Ars Alchemica- has my subscription been suspended?
Yours,
Lingering in limbo
***
To: Headmistress McGonagall
It has recently come to my attention that, according to certain sources, your contact with Mr. Potter, Mr. Weasley, and Miss Granger has been suspended as of late and that you have sent out inquiries regarding the cause. I would warn you that such questions have made their way into what you would consider the “enemy camp,” and that such information is only helping to bolster the Dark Lord’s troops. You would do well to keep this sort of knowledge close to the vest in the future.
In the meantime, I may be able to provide you with some information as to their whereabouts. Though all I can offer is a list of possible recent locations that the trio have visited, this may help you scry where they reside currently. You will find them on the attached sheaf.
I hope that this aids in your search,
A Concerned Citizen
***
Dear Hopeful, Curious, Lingering, and perhaps Concerned,
I apologize for the lapse in communication as of late. Imagine my surprise to one moment be standing in an ancient crypt, and the next waking up in a private hospital room with three weeks having passed. Luckily, my injuries were not so severe as to bar me from engaging once more in my current work, but the loss of valuable time is not just disorienting, but disheartening.
However, I may not have woken up at all if I, and my companions, had not been found prone and unresponsive after being caught in what Muggles would call a booby trap. I would like to send my utmost thanks to the man- I’m sorry, the person who was able to point our rescuers in the right direction, but I’m afraid that the note sent along with our recent movements had no signature.
Though I have seen the note and noticed a certain penchant toward alliteration.
So then, to whom it may concern: thank you for saving us and for letting us continue on in our quest. If the measure of a man is to be found in actions rather than words, I think that I have been most accurate with my yardstick.
Please find the enclosed Ars Alchemica, along with apologies from the management for its delay.
Yours,
Rescued in Rotherham
***
Dear Rescued,
I see that my solitude must now be interrupted by your inevitable barrage of letters and arguments on potions of which you know next to nothing about. Still, I find myself somewhat able to handle the change in pace.
As to your benefactor: while I do not know the identity of the person who alerted the authorities to your location, I believe that I can make some suppositions about the man himself.
I surmise that he was rather sure that he couldn’t be of service, since his missing correspondent certainly wouldn’t have left a trail of breadcrumbs, so large you could have made a Hagrid-sized salad out of them, in her letters. Though I’m sure his shock gave way to eye rolling and resignation as he saw that, yes, her letters had foolishly revealed her location, he may have been glad for such obviousness.
And in passing along this information? I’m positive he was thinking more of one person in the missing party rather than the others.
Do not let my subscription lapse again. As punishment, you are to write two feet on article 5 of the latest edition and include it in your next message.
Yours,
Relieved and Ready for a future of your blathering on
p.s. You may be happy to know that my thoughts of aiding and abetting have now indeed turned into actions due to a certain Gryffindor’s annoyingly heroic escapade. While I could bemoan this personal turning of the tide, I find that I am almost relieved in its occurrence. Still, know that I lay all blame for future do-gooding- oh, how it rankles the senses!- at that impertinent chit’s door.
And don’t be so obvious as to produce an impish grin upon the reading of this postscript. Nobody likes an “I-Told-You-So.”
***
Dear Relieved and Ready,
Hrmmm…nobody? Really? I believe I have a whole bundle of letters to the contrary.
Yours,
Impish in Ingleside
***
[Editor’s note: Here ends the first phase of the epistolary beginnings of one of Wizarding-kind’s most talked about love stories. Due to the interactive nature of this text, the inclusion of further details about this subject, as well as many others, is up to you! Please be sure to contact our staff and let them know if you’d like to know more in this, the newest edition of Hogwarts, A History.]
Rating: M
Warning(s): None
Genre/Category: Drama, General, Friendship, Humour, Romance
Summary: In the future, the writers and editors of Hogwarts, A History have decided to spice things up a bit and include more of the personal details of the lives of Wizards and Witches throughout history. Take a gander at this excerpt from the chapter on Granger/Snape! (For mayadidi per the SSHG exchange on lj)
x-posted at Ashwinder, the SS/HG community, and the SS/HG exchange site.
***
Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.
***
Letter(s) to Hermione (Section J-1: Initial Contact)
***
Hogwarts, A History- The Year 2525 Edition
Chapter 10: The Lives and Loves of Famous Hogwarts Students
Section J: Severus Snape and Hermione Granger
***
Notes on Chapter 10: The Lives and Loves of Famous Hogwarts Students
In this special interactive edition of Hogwarts, A History, the authors and editors of the volume have made the decision to include more personal details, including correspondence and photos, of our most famous Wizards and Witches. While the tendency of this title in the past has been to focus on more of the dry, though we must add, utterly important facts regarding the centuries of our hallowed institution, it has come to our attention that the modern reader clamours for a bit more. In order to meet the demands of the masses who seem to care more about how many times the late and lamented Gilderoy Lockhart won Witch Weekly’s “Most Charming Smile Award” rather than the details of the Goblin Wars, we have allowed for the inclusion of what we would have called in the past frippery and nonsense, but now must file under the heading of “history.” To wit, we give you this chapter, filled with perfume-saturated handkerchiefs, Portkeys from secret liaisons, and, of course, the ubiquitous love note.
***
Notes on Section J: Severus Snape and Hermione Granger:
The authors and editors of this volume wish to make a special note regarding the epistolary nature of the Granger/Snape romance. Though it may seem to our readers that the following letters are merely elements of espionage, we beg of them to continue to the end and to “read between the lines,” as it were. (Please note: no spells or charms should be needed to do so. The reader, hopefully, will be able to figure such things out of their own accord. Unless you are a member of the Crabbe or Goyle family. If you are, please contact our Hogwarts: A History Hotline by Floo for further assistance.)
The below correspondence was sent during a period starting in early September, 1997, and ending with the defeat of Voldemort in the fall of 1998. As such missives were clandestine, exact dates of the following are not known, but are believed to have travelled back and forth with some frequency. We have broken them down into various sections of the Snape/Granger connection for ease of reference.
***
Section J-1: Initial Contact
***
Dear Sir,
I have it on the authority of a most insistent portrait that it would be wise to seek your council regarding a Potions issue. However, as you are currently unreachable by common means, as seems to be the case with most fugitives from the law, not to mention good society, I am sending this owl with a special charm that will hopefully find you in your current location. It is charmed in such a way that this message can only be read by yourself and contains additional measures which will prevent you from speaking of its existence with any of your black-shrouded cohorts on the off chance that your loyalties do not truly lie where I’ve been told. Please notify me if you have indeed received my letter and would be willing to answer a query that may help “the Cause.”
Yours reservedly,
Hermione Jane Granger
P.S. If you are intending to reply to this letter in an attempt to give information to the creature who, I have been told, is supposedly no longer your master, please do me the courtesy of destroying this letter at once. I believe you owe all of the people you betrayed- oh, I beg your pardon- seemingly betrayed at least that much.
***
Dear Miss Granger, who would do well to keep her identity a secret,
The first rule of espionage is to hide your intentions. You only provide that information which is absolutely necessary in order to elicit the desired effect. So your very Gryffindor stab at honesty in the beginning of your missive, while completely predictable for someone who could not be subtle even if her romantic entanglements with one of the multitudes of Weasleys depended on it, is rather unsuited for gaining information from your opponent. And let’s be clear here; though you lay claim to some knowledge as to my loyalties, you understand nothing. Do not assume. Do not suppose. And certainly do not think to bring me into your childish games with the proposed endgame of saving Wizardkind from its dark fate. I’ve already been down that road with someone else who thought he could affect change in our future, and now he is dead. I rather think you do not hope to share the same end.
No regards or salutations. And I regret to inform you that I, unlike yourself, will not provide a signature in case of prying eyes. (Really, Miss Granger, magic isn’t perfect- would you truly leave the safety of your “quest” to the promise of a few hastily applied charms?)
Do not attempt to contact me again. You are not the only one who knows charms and spells.
***
Dear Sir,
I believe that my intent in using honesty was to demonstrate that I am willing to show my cards, so to speak, if you are willing to show yours. While you criticize my modus operandi, I say instead, shouldn’t we play to our strengths? If a Slytherin uses deception as a weapon, wouldn’t it make sense for a Gryffindor to do the same with honesty? No matter our diverse opinions on strategy, I was able to elicit certain information I desired and am pleased to see that you are still the same vicious and ugly man I remember from your not too far past days at a certain academic institution.
I’ve also learned from your response, brought on by your distaste for my methods, that you are somewhat willing to keep our correspondence shielded from the purview of your cohorts. If not, would you have strengthened that sufficient, though admittedly borderline, security measure I used on my initial note in sending your response? This, as well as the content of your letter, is some small, though hardly irrefutable, evidence that the “truths” of a posthumous painting may be of some merit. So indeed, I have gleaned the information I wanted after all.
You play the game your way, I’ll play it mine.
Miss G.
***
Dear Miss G.
Oh, how clever you are using an initial instead of your full name! Really, why not just give the Dark Lord your current location, a detailed outline of your intent, and even your blood type? Somehow, it strikes me that that would make up for how easy you’re making your potential discovery. And do me the courtesy of not proclaiming to be at your supposed place of education, as it is well known among the circles in which I travel that you and your compatriots have embarked on a solo mission, beyond the purview of your legal guardians during the term. Which rather supports my forthwith dismissal of any further correspondence from or to you.
I refuse to play pen pal with a overeager young woman who is so desperate to leave behind her bushy-haired, beaver-toothed “former self” in favour of a two dimensional spy-like persona that she’ll make such silly, juvenile, and dangerous mistakes.
The time for me to risk life and limb for empty promises and sketchy endeavours is over and done. I suggest you find another way to make a feeble attempt at ending the reign of my Lord and then go home to your dormitory with your pumpkin juice where you belong.
Again, no regards or salutations.
***
Dear Sir,
I do understand your reticence in helping me, as it mirrors my own in trusting you even one iota. But I seem to have hit a roadblock in my work which unfortunately renders you my only hope. So, your nasty comments and attempts at convincing me of your ultimate evil aside, I will ask you one more time for your assistance. I assure you that I will only give you the smallest amount of information necessary for you to answer my questions, thereby putting you in very little danger of suspicion if you are truly still working on the side of the light. If your affiliations have changed back like most expect they have, then I will not have provided you enough clues to give you even a hint of what may or may not be attempted for the Cause. So it seems to me that you are in a win-win situation- you answer my questions, are not put in any danger, and get to rid yourself of the annoyance of a persistent, bushy-haired, formerly beaver-toothed Gryffindor know-it-all.
True, you could still refuse to provide me with the information I require, but then I might have to go into some large sermon about your immortal soul and the evils done, etc., etc., and the possible chance at penance and redemption. I hope I can spare us both that needless discussion as well as your inevitable eye rolling.
Expecting your cooperation,
The only person who could be sending you such correspondence.
p.s. And yes, I’m aware that our absence from school has been noted. Do you now understand the urgency of my request?
p.p.s. My blood type? O positive. One wonders whether such fascination with blood renders all those rumours about your nocturnal activities correct.
***
Dear Correspondent,
Gryffindors are often known for their “bravery,” but I have always known that trait to in fact be merely a tendency toward unmitigated gall. You do your House proud with your pretensions when you have only a child’s understanding of what truly damns a soul. Nothing can save me from that fate, so I fear you have less than nothing to hold over my head. I have committed my “sins,” have foolishly struggled to atone, and ended up committing atrocities in the process. So please forgive me if I refuse the chance to redeem myself once more. It will only serve to “damn” me even further.
I quite prefer knowing at which circle of hell I’ll be residing and see no need to vie for alternative real estate.
Signed,
The person who will no longer be replying to your letters.
p.s. While you may be a Grade A annoyance, that barely ranks you above the affect of a fly buzzing around a rotting corpse. So much noise and excitement around someone who could not give a damn about its presence.
p.p.s. Who do you think cultivated the myth about my Vampirism in the first place? Sometimes the best forms of intimidation are the most latent. You would do well to remember that.
***
Dear Sir,
We’re wasting time. Our friend in the portrait said I might have difficulties convincing you to give assistance due to your penchant for self-hatred. Unsurprisingly, he was right. So, I’ll say this: helping me will be an extension of the promise you made to him the night you raised your wand and silenced him forever. And if you mean to argue your case and plead ignorance as to what this refers, I was instructed to tell you that sometimes the most powerful promises are made with a locking of eyes and the drawing of a last breath.
Then I was told to offer you a sherbet lemon, but that seems to be difficult in our current form of conversation.
In any event, I will once again use that formidable Gryffindor honesty and tell you that I am not sure what this “agreement” entails. And yes, I did ask a certain scar-headed friend who was a witness to your horrific act that night as to what this could be referring, but he was as confused on the issue as the portrait was silent. Still, while I don’t trust you as far as I could wingardium leviosa you, I do trust the man who told me this information, even if he is little more than canvas, paint, and memories.
Please do me the courtesy of including your acceptance of future correspondence in your next letter.
Thank you,
Your real estate agent
***
Send me the information you have and I will look it over. I promise nothing.
***
Dear Sir,
Your lack of formality or any pretension of civility in your last message aside, I am pleased at your acceptance.
Please find the attached list of potion ingredients and potential variables, along with accompanying Arithmancy figures. I have given you a vague idea of the intent of the potion aspect of a potential course of action, but nothing more.
Do try not to be offended,
Eager in Edinburgh
***
Dear Eager,
Attached are my suggestions for possible substitutions and adaptations for the information you have sent me. The use of your four major elements would seem to hint at some sort of transportation device, while the inclusion of others hints at a method for protection.
I am mildly intrigued by your combinations, along with the route of Arithmancy used to arrive at your suppositions, but am more so convinced that they are a product of happenstance rather than any true talent on your part.
Yours,
Glad to be done with this silly assignment.
***
Dear Sir,
In a previous letter, you said that some of the best forms of intimidation are the most latent, but from your last response I must say that sometimes the best forms of information are latent as well. I am positive that, in giving me suggestions regarding the elements of my potion, you were sure to check and double check my Arithmancy, no doubt looking for every potential flaw. That you were able to return my findings without any “red marks” and were in addition more than able to provide me with suggestions lets me know that your positive assessment does indeed have something to do with the products of my “true talent.” I do hope that this does not sully your view of Gryffindors. I would hate to think that you could find them at all to have potential.
I’m not sure that the Earth could stand to be shaken so to its core.
In regards to your suggestions, thank you very much. They were illuminating. I hope, as a continuation of our agreement, that I may be able to send you further queries in the future if need be.
Yours,
The woman who knows that the assignment isn’t over yet
***
Dear Woman,
I assure you that there is no chance of me forming such opinions of Gryffindors in general, though I do hold out that there may be some chance of identifying exceptions to the rule. You would do well not to take this as a compliment, as you have yet to show me overwhelming evidence in support of such. If you must forward me more juvenile questions regarding basic Potions work, I will not only answer them but will also use them as a yardstick against which to rate your potential of becoming such an exception.
Though, of course, I do not expect miracles.
Yours,
Dreading more of your drivel
***
[Editor’s note: From the last message sent from Snape to Granger, there elapsed a period of two weeks, which we know now to be during the time in which The Golden Trio successfully destroyed the second Horcrux. The correspondence picks up shortly after this point.]
***
Dear Sir,
Though I am sure that you have quite enjoyed a respite from our conversations, I must ask for your services once more. I have attached another list of ingredients along with formulas for another potion and would appreciate your notes on the proposed efficacy.
Thank you,
Your student
***
Dear student,
My, my, but your missive was so short! Either your penchant for nattering on has fallen by the wayside of maturity, which I highly doubt, or, more likely, you and your cohorts are on the trail of yet another plan of acquisition and destruction. I hope it comes as no surprise to you that they have learned of your recent activities and that the Lord is not pleased. Many have been shocked that three children have the ability to wreak such havoc and have been pinning most of the blame on your scar-headed friend, but I rather think the creator of such mischief is of the more feminine variety.
Though it irks me to do so, I offer my congratulations, though with the admonition that, if your egos could bear it, you not make such actions so dramatic. Perhaps instead of an explosion heard from 50 kilometers away that had to be explained by Muggles as an accident at a small power plant, you could stand something smaller in scale? Sadly, I do not hold out much hope. Gryffindors are not known for their subtlety.
Attached are my recommendations. I hesitate to make any comments as to their larger applications, which seem fretfully obvious to me, as things in my situation have become more… heated. Your intentions notwithstanding, I do not trust your recent success to be anything more than a first timer’s fluke and refuse to stick my neck out from the place of my tenuous sequester.
Somewhat Sincerely,
Your teacher
***
Dear Sir,
Thank you for your latest information and suggestions. I will put them to good use shortly. As to the brevity of my recent communications, my travels do not often allow for lengthy correspondence, no matter how much I appreciate words from the outside world.
I do hope that you are not in any imminent danger. Not in any concern for your person, of course. But I would be sorely in trouble if I didn’t have such a valuable repository of Potions information handy. I’m sure you appreciate the need for pragmatism over sentiment.
Thank you,
Grateful in Guisborough
***
Dear Grateful,
I must pity you your existence if communication from me is considered to be from the outside world. As to my situation…I am back in relative solitude at the moment, on the periphery of the dealings of my compatriots. (One of the perks of being considered a genius in your field, particularly one who has proven his allegiance by an act he’d rather forget, is that you are relatively left alone while you “work.”) I find it a safe, though relatively boring, method of survival, but it is better than playing the balance between nervous bowing and scraping just for scraps of information. And as I seem to have no true conduit if I were to want to pass along helpful bits of information to another side of the conflict, I must content myself with the task of answering your missives.
Though I doubt they will continue if I detect the blatant cheek of your last message.
Barely respectfully,
A cave dweller
***
Dear Sir,
Ah, a cave! That sounds very austere and Spartan, though as it is not that much of a step down from your quarters in the dungeons, I’m sure you’re feeling quite at home. Still, as I’m aware that you had to leave the majority of your personal effects behind during your… flight… it must be not exactly the same. Find the attached package a meagre attempt at creating a better atmosphere during your confinement.
As to your…feelings of impotence regarding your current situation, I might be able to offer, if not a cure, a potential relief for your ailment. There may be a way to send information as you are sending it now, but that could wend its way to the appropriate parties. Please let me know if you are interested.
Sincerely,
Curious in Castleford
***
Dear Curious,
My confinement? I wasn’t aware that I was expecting. Really, one would think that someone of your education would be more aware of the words she chooses, unless such a connotation was intentional. (Which I’m surprisingly inclined to think it is, if your latter use of the word “impotent” and related digs are to be a clue as to your state of mind. Really, Miss Curious, your ginger-haired friend must not be providing you with suitable…outlets for this type of thought or feeling.) If so, I must doff my imaginary chapeau to your rather surprising dexterity with the English language and shaded insults. It’s actually a rather Slytherin quality- you should be quite proud.
In regards to your suggestion of a restorative to my current feeling of impotence, I assure you the feeling will pass, if it hasn’t already by the time you receive this letter. I am not a kind or altruistic man, Miss C, so the need to help others is not of overriding concern. You would do well to remember that.
As we have nothing more to speak of at this time, I bid you successful travels.
Regards,
Bored of this correspondence.
***
Dear Sir,
Bored of this correspondence? Well then, it’s a good thing that I sent you that text to fill up your time. One may have thought that you would have mentioned receiving it, even in consideration of your disdain for me, as you were born at such an age where manners were considered commonplace and a simple “thank you” not at all out of the ordinary.
But perhaps I was expecting too much.
Enjoy your solitude,
Scoffing in Scarborough
***
Dear Scoffing,
Ah, and here we see the pride of the Gryffindors rearing its ugly head! One would think that a bit of brusqueness and ill manners wouldn’t make you turn tail and run, but it seems it has. How disappointing! I guess I’ll just have to content myself with reading over this quite interesting Potions journal alone, rather than reviewing and discussing it with someone whom I have no doubt has already perused it thoroughly, as evidenced by the creases in the pages, notes in the margin, and suspiciously kinky hairs left in the binding.
A shame.
Yours,
Reading in lovely solitude.
***
Dear Sir,
You’re a right bastard. Oh, and don’t even try to take points from me for my insult as you’ll find that your authority no longer holds over that particular system since your recent escape. I could lower myself to your level and make some sort of vicious comment about the reason for your flight, etc, but as maturity has made me realize that (a) not all situations are what they seem and (b) you’re not worth the effort, I’ll let it go for now.
Still, even given your almost complete and total lack of social skills, I would be willing to correspond with you regarding some of the elements of the tome I sent you. For research purposes only, of course. I wouldn’t dream of engaging you in a friendly discourse.
Not Yours,
Annoyed in Aycliff
***
Dear Annoyed,
I wonder if you are actually in any of the places from which you’re supposedly writing- though I would hope not on the off chance that these messages were discovered- or whether you just pick the locale that aids in the alliteration of your emotional signature. I am assuming it is the latter in consideration of your age and disposition. (Questions of your maturity would not be something you should attempt to argue about with me in the context of your last rather vitriolic message.)
Still, I’ve attached some thoughts regarding Prof. Archibald Pulski’s theory on wormwood in restorative potions. If you can handle bending your mind toward more academic pursuits in the midst of all of your heroic tomfoolery, I would be willing to read your response.
Respectfully,
Someone who thanks you for not sending him Witch Weekly instead.
***
Dear Witch Weekly subscriber.
Oh, didn’t you know? I signed you up for their new lifetime plan. That way you’ll be able to read about how to get a Wizard of your very own, the best way to get rid of doxies, oh, and the proper use of shampoo. I hope you enjoy the gift.
In all seriousness, I read over your response and while I agree with your main point, I do think that you’re dismissing his secondary discussion of asphodel out of hand. While I know that the current trend is to see it as a fool’s errand to prove its efficacy in that sort of potion, I think that with further trials, particularly with the inclusion of a shaving of shark’s tooth, it might be seen as plausible. I’ve written out a larger discussion of this on the attached. Please let me know what you think.
I leave you to your potions then, but before I do… let me say that I am rather glad that you have allowed our correspondence to continue. It’s difficult to be cut off from the lectures and discussions, papers and potions assignments that usually make up a day. Things can become rather dreary, can’t they? Let this be just a little light in the darkness, then.
Yours,
Intrigued in Immingham
***
Intrigued,
I have been wracking my brain over the past few months, trying to understand why a young witch would be interested in conversing with an old, hook-nosed, greasy-haired (and, oh, yes, I understood your little dig about the shampoo; how…obvious,) and let’s not forget, murderer. But now it has become clear.
I refuse to be your charity case. Though it may do your Gryffindor sense of civic duty good to help the poor, recluse, misunderstood pariah, I assure you that I am not one of your dull galleons that can be buffed to a gleam to be brought back into the light.
While I hate to dispossess you of your charity work, I refuse to bow to your lightly shaded inferences to my situation in order to have any intellectual stimulation. My pride, whatever is left of it, does not need a cloak of respectability.
And if this has all been a part of your plan to gain my trust, then expose me to my would-be captors, consider that plan foiled.
~~~
***
Dear Infuriating,
Just when I think that our discourse can make the final turn toward positive, you take something I say out of turn and show your overtly cynical side. How can I make overtures toward friendship in light of such roadblocks?
I do not see you as a charity case, you infuriating man! Did it ever occur to you that maybe I am the one who needs the intellectual stimulation? That for all that I love my travelling companions, their affection and friendship does not always make up for what I have lost by leaving my academic haven?
When I mentioned how hard it was to be cut off from the facets of academia, I was speaking from my own perspective. Though I had foolishly hoped that you’d understand and maybe sympathize with my feelings, painting you as a tragic figure was the furthest thing from my mind. Trust me, I’ve learned from our short, and often infuriating, time exchanging letters that you are much too proud for that. Also, up until this little childish tantrum, I was beginning to think that such a description wouldn’t be near to fitting you at all.
I understand that you must be wary of my motives, as I was for a time of yours. But I have finally moved to the point where, though your tone and temper may repel me at times, I am no longer in doubt of your final allegiances. It may have taken a portrait to tell me, but it took you to convince me. If only I could convince you of my own.
Perhaps I’m a fool. You’ll say that I’m letting my foolish Gryffindor notions of honour and right versus might overpower my intellect and cold reasoning. And maybe so. But I’ve got this far allowing my instincts to be my guide, with relatively good results. I’m not going to stop trusting them now.
Yours,
Wound up in Watton
***
Dear Wound Up,
I am not often in the situation where I find myself wanting to make apologies, and now is certainly not one of those times. However, I may be able to admit that my assumptions were hasty. And especially in consideration of the relatively vacuous void of intellect in which you must be drowning due to your travelling companions, I now see that I may have been in error.
Please find my attached responses to your thoughts on the asphodel. I look forward to reading your comments.
Yours,
Humble in my hovel
p.s. Friendship is a powerful word, Miss Wound Up. I have used it before and have found myself bound by impossible promises, sandwiched between rocks and hard places. While I could simply scoff at the notion of a Slytherin and Gryffindor developing a détente, I will refrain from such a black/white perspective and will instead propose a sort of colleagues. It is less dangerous for all.
***
Dear Humble,
Humble? I think not, though I would let you know that your small concessions to my indignation are accepted gratefully. As to the idea of friends…I will still try to convince you of it, though my companions here, if they knew, would tell me I had lost my mind. In the meantime, I will settle for colleagues with a lively discourse.
Attached is my argument to your argument on the article we have been discussing. I’m also sending along the latest edition of Ars Alchemica that I could find. I’m not sure if your… benefactors…have been supplying you with the latest in the field, but I thought I’d send it along just in case.
Yours,
Waiting in Worksop
***
Dear Waiting,
I was wondering if I was your “dirty little secret”- it seems that I am. While it is admittedly for the best- it would probably not aid your quest if the other members of your little trio knew of our conversations- I wonder if you hide me in shame or in selfishness? The tangled web we weave….
Thank you for the edition of Ars Alchemica. For as much as my benefactors- I quite like the irony of that word- have given me supplies as one of their “trusted” members, they are still hesitant to provide me with current publications that might include perspectives of the “opposite side.” As the tomes I receive from them are usually of a darker nature, it is helpful to find new information from more mainstream texts.
I found the second article of particular note and am sending along my thoughts on the attached.
Yours,
Pleased in purgatory
***
Dear Pleased,
I appreciate how you’ve taken on my penchant for alliteration. I admit that the little game it has become is in and of itself a distraction, which is welcome at the current time. I won’t tell you much in regards for your own safety, but just know that my contact may be sporadic at best over the next few weeks.
In the case that I don’t get to speak with you…soon, let me say this. Get ready for more of that Gryffindor honesty that you just loathe. While you may have sent the shame/selfishness question in jest, I will tell you that my motives are most certainly more situated in the latter.
And just in case you don’t hear from me again, I will continue on that track of honesty by saying the following: no matter how much we all despised you at various points in our academic and extracurricular careers, I have always respected you. Even in that moment of most intense doubt when the world at large knew you had ended the life of a most beloved mentor, I had a hard time believing it. And when I did, when my bespectacled friend described the scene of his passing with exacting and harsh detail, my feelings were a mixture of grief, anger, and, to my surprise, disbelief. While I knew that things occurred as they did, I couldn’t understand why a man who was so reviled, so distrusted, and yet who had worked so hard at seeming redemption, could have made such a turn. Was his work for the cause of the light all an elaborate act? Or was he a man trying to do the right thing who fell victim to circumstance?
You asked before why such a bright, Gryffindor witch, who is friends with those who would hate you most, would have believed a portrait and sent you a letter asking for help. At the time, I didn’t understand it myself. But now I think that I wanted to believe that some good still existed in you. That something forced you to raise that wand and end the life on this plane of a beloved soul. I still don’t know the answer to that. I think it had something to do with the boy you were with that night and the allusions you’ve made to promises. But I think that I’ve always had an assumption of your intentions in a positive light, whether when a classmate and I encountered you and a certain diminutive, prone professor on that fateful night or in finding out the identity of the owner of my best friend’s miraculous Potions text. While so much of me wanted to believe the obvious truth, a small part told me there was more.
Funnily enough, I think that “small part” is the most Gryffindor aspect of my personality. I think you’ll find the irony in that.
So I bid you well in your endeavours, especially your attempts to undermine from within. And if those attempts have just been thoughts rather than actions, I bid you to make them happen.
We need all the help we can get.
Yours,
Determined in Doncaster
***
Dear Doncaster, or should I call you Miss Sentimental?
You’ve grown quite missish in your old age haven’t you? I expect a return letter forthwith explaining the reason for such sentiment and dripping emotion. I know you to be a Gryffindor, but now I suspect you to be a Hufflepuff in disguise.
I trust that such talk is not an indication that you are heading in a direction which will allow you to make some large, heroic gesture. I would be disappointed at your predictability.
Yours,
Hopeful in Hades
***
Dear Miss Absent,
And here I thought that my latest alliterative signature would have at least, in and of itself, provoked some sort of response, not to mention my aspersions on your House status. Please make time in your busy schedule to reprimand me for my effrontery.
Yours,
Curious in Confinement
***
Miss Nonexistent,
I have not received the latest edition of Ars Alchemica- has my subscription been suspended?
Yours,
Lingering in limbo
***
To: Headmistress McGonagall
It has recently come to my attention that, according to certain sources, your contact with Mr. Potter, Mr. Weasley, and Miss Granger has been suspended as of late and that you have sent out inquiries regarding the cause. I would warn you that such questions have made their way into what you would consider the “enemy camp,” and that such information is only helping to bolster the Dark Lord’s troops. You would do well to keep this sort of knowledge close to the vest in the future.
In the meantime, I may be able to provide you with some information as to their whereabouts. Though all I can offer is a list of possible recent locations that the trio have visited, this may help you scry where they reside currently. You will find them on the attached sheaf.
I hope that this aids in your search,
A Concerned Citizen
***
Dear Hopeful, Curious, Lingering, and perhaps Concerned,
I apologize for the lapse in communication as of late. Imagine my surprise to one moment be standing in an ancient crypt, and the next waking up in a private hospital room with three weeks having passed. Luckily, my injuries were not so severe as to bar me from engaging once more in my current work, but the loss of valuable time is not just disorienting, but disheartening.
However, I may not have woken up at all if I, and my companions, had not been found prone and unresponsive after being caught in what Muggles would call a booby trap. I would like to send my utmost thanks to the man- I’m sorry, the person who was able to point our rescuers in the right direction, but I’m afraid that the note sent along with our recent movements had no signature.
Though I have seen the note and noticed a certain penchant toward alliteration.
So then, to whom it may concern: thank you for saving us and for letting us continue on in our quest. If the measure of a man is to be found in actions rather than words, I think that I have been most accurate with my yardstick.
Please find the enclosed Ars Alchemica, along with apologies from the management for its delay.
Yours,
Rescued in Rotherham
***
Dear Rescued,
I see that my solitude must now be interrupted by your inevitable barrage of letters and arguments on potions of which you know next to nothing about. Still, I find myself somewhat able to handle the change in pace.
As to your benefactor: while I do not know the identity of the person who alerted the authorities to your location, I believe that I can make some suppositions about the man himself.
I surmise that he was rather sure that he couldn’t be of service, since his missing correspondent certainly wouldn’t have left a trail of breadcrumbs, so large you could have made a Hagrid-sized salad out of them, in her letters. Though I’m sure his shock gave way to eye rolling and resignation as he saw that, yes, her letters had foolishly revealed her location, he may have been glad for such obviousness.
And in passing along this information? I’m positive he was thinking more of one person in the missing party rather than the others.
Do not let my subscription lapse again. As punishment, you are to write two feet on article 5 of the latest edition and include it in your next message.
Yours,
Relieved and Ready for a future of your blathering on
p.s. You may be happy to know that my thoughts of aiding and abetting have now indeed turned into actions due to a certain Gryffindor’s annoyingly heroic escapade. While I could bemoan this personal turning of the tide, I find that I am almost relieved in its occurrence. Still, know that I lay all blame for future do-gooding- oh, how it rankles the senses!- at that impertinent chit’s door.
And don’t be so obvious as to produce an impish grin upon the reading of this postscript. Nobody likes an “I-Told-You-So.”
***
Dear Relieved and Ready,
Hrmmm…nobody? Really? I believe I have a whole bundle of letters to the contrary.
Yours,
Impish in Ingleside
***
[Editor’s note: Here ends the first phase of the epistolary beginnings of one of Wizarding-kind’s most talked about love stories. Due to the interactive nature of this text, the inclusion of further details about this subject, as well as many others, is up to you! Please be sure to contact our staff and let them know if you’d like to know more in this, the newest edition of Hogwarts, A History.]