springtime_gen reveal!
yah! The masterlist has been posted. I wrote What happened in the House on Spinner's End for bethbethbeth. It really wasn't looking too good, but in the end I ended up kind of liking it and I was glad that other people found it vaguely amusing as well. It was quite a positive experience for my first fest...for which I was quite grateful. I may post the fic with my commentary if I get bored enough/want to procrastinate my other two fics!
I recieved X Marks the Spot written by leni_jess! Thank you, I really did enjoy it.
Because I was *cough*late*cough* there were a few unintended minor errors, so I'm reposting a revised version here on my LJ.
What Happened in the House on Spinner's End
Pairing: None. Characters: Harry, Snape, Hermione, and Ron.
Rating: PG-13
Summary:Post-war. Snape is released from prison (due to an error in paperwork). He goes home only to find something different about the place.
***
“Tea cake, Severus?” Narcissa said opening a tin to reveal a beautiful array of tiny cakes clearly sent from home.
“No thanks.” Severus said. Tea cakes and rabbits? This was all those puny people could think about. There was a revolution upon them and instead of practicing spells or planning they were sitting here on the green grass eating teacakes. Severus pulled out a worn leather journal and a quill.
“Oh! Stop that!” Narcissa said, reaching over to grab his book. He grappled for it, careful not to scratch her delicate white skin.
“Let me see what you have written? Love poems to Eliza Reed perhaps? Or maybe Lily Evans?” she asked, raising one eyebrow.
“Give it back, Narcissa!” He grabbed for it. Laughing, she moved out of reach.
“How bad can it be?” she asked before flipping open to a random page in the middle.
“Oh, thine eyes glitter in this periwinkle light where we lay facing, on the bed of satin cloth-.”
“STOP!”
Severus Snape woke up suddenly, the opaque light filtered through high prison window of his cell.
Just a dream…
***
Hermione Granger sat in a cold white chair in the cold waiting room. Her clothes hung off her small frame making her look like a child playing grown-up. She had been awake for twenty seven hours straight waiting for news. It was supposed to be over…one of the hybrid werewolves shouldn't have escaped and attacked Ron. It simply wasn't fair! The door opened slowly revealing a Healer covered in blood stains. They all stood up.
“He’ll live,” the Healer finally said. Hermione practically collapsed on the seat in defeat. Harry put his arm around her, one of the few times he had actually touched her in all their years of friendship.
Mrs. Weasley sobbed into her grimy handkerchief leaving smudges of dirt on her face
“Ron,” Mr. Weasley whispered, covering his face. Hermione felt the irrational urge to laugh in the face of this unique type of destruction.
“But he’s in a coma.”
Mrs. Weasley gave one final sob before collapsing onto the floor. Hermione could almost
see hope fly away from her.
***
“And here are the keys, Mr. Potter,” the realtor concluded, handing Harry a pouch.
“Thank you,” Harry said. Hermione stopped in surprise. It was the first time Harry had spoken since the Healers had announced Ron’s condition. Granted, it had only been three days, but the press had already published articles “revealing” the cause of Harry’s silence was the loss of his lover during the final battle.
“I trust you won’t mention this to anyone,” Hermione said to the realtor before he walked out the door.
“Privacy is my middle name!” The portly man exclaimed before slipping out the door.
“Well, what now?” Harry asked looking out past the main entrance of the house on Spinner’s End into the kitchen. Hermione had been afraid that it would end up being an old-fashioned gothic manor, but it was a surprisingly nice and airy house. Hermione had them remove everything in the house except the books from the library. It wasn’t much, but it was somewhere new. A place untouched where she could sit down and read…
“We need to unpack,” she said. Harry gave her an amused look. They had already brought in all their stuff; two trunks and a bad tempered cat. The war had not allowed for good shopping.
“But first, I think we need things to unpack.”
“Which room are you taking?”
“I don’t know. Which one do you want?”
“The one at the end of the hall.”
“Ahh…right.”
“I guess I’ll take the other guest room and Ron can have the Master.”
“I think Ron would want you to have the Master.”
“Hermione…do you think Ron will be okay?”
“I don’t know, Harry. Let’s go out and shop. We don’t even have a bed in this place.”
***
From the diary of Hermione Granger…
Diary,
I suppose I should have gone back to my parent’s house after sixth year…but I didn’t. It wasn’t that I had a falling out with them, rather we just grew apart. I didn’t spend my days and nights in seventh year worrying about my parents, I spent them worrying about Harry and Ron and whoever else wasn’t there. I love my parents. They understand that, but I am not their Hermione Granger anymore, I’m just Hermione.
***
The war destroyed many things, the lives of children and adults alike, Voldemort and Severus Snape’s favorite pair of socks. Severus sat in the corner. Since his cell mate had died (he had eaten the rat poison rather than face the court) he had been alone. Roger, Roderick or something…his body lay on the opposite side of the cell. They had yet to come retrieve it. It was going to start to stink soon. He clutched his left hand close to his body, seeing Albus Dumbledore in front of him.
The light had begun to play tricks on him again…or perhaps it was the fact the guards had mysteriously forgotten to serve him food for the last two days. The wall in front of him shifted, revealing the outline of a door, which swung open to reveal a pair of guards.
“Have you come for the body?” Severus said wearily, his voice cracking.
“Prisoner number 8956, you’re free to go,” Severus looked up in surprise. This was rather unexpected…he must be hallucinating again. He was 8956…he had spent the first month trying to decipher the significance of the number before realizing that there was no significance. There never was any…
“Oi! 8965, get over here!” Severus stood up, straightening to his full height; the effect was somewhat diminished by the bruises on his face and the fact his left arm dangled uselessly at his side.
“I am here,” Severus said to the guard. Shocked, the guard pulled out his wand, accidentally hitting Severus in the eye with his wand. The taller guard stood back, amused and clearly content with letting his rookie partner handle the proceedings. Severus rubbed his eye. Clearly, they were sending trainees here to guard a prison full of Ex-Death Eaters. Stupid. Very stupid.
“Ow! You stupid klutz, a wand isn’t a toy!” Severus exclaimed, tempted to hit the man upside the head and take his wand away like a toddler, but refrained upon realizing that his teaching days were over for good.
“This way,” the guard said leading him down a series of hallways before they reached the office of the Ward. They gave him back his clothing and wand and asked him to sign a few forms. And then he left. Severus couldn’t believe it; he was a free man. Without the walls, the wind beat down on him from all sides. He stared at the filthy Death Eater robes in front of him. He gave one last look at the place that had been his home for the last three months before apparating to the house on Spinner’s End.
What now? In the span of two hours Severus’s possibilities had gone from nothing to everything. First step, Severus thought as he walked to the apparition area was to get some new clothes and repair his arm.
In retrospect, the easiness of it should have been an indication that something was wrong.
***
Hermione and Harry staggered into the house. Harry slurred the spells to open the wards once or twice before finally getting the correct spell. After ordering some furniture, they had met some partying Gryffindors who simply had to buy both of them a drink…or two…or seven. Hermione lay down on the floor after entering the house.
“That was interesting.”
“Yep, the beds will be here in two weeks. What are we going to do until then?”
“We could transfigure beds.” Hermione grabbed one of her shoes.
“Sounds good, I think. I suppose you know the spell?”
“Yeah.”
***
A long figure clothed in black walked up the path to the house and went inside. The wards immediately shifted to allow him entry. It was a strange feeling to be back in his home; he hadn’t expected to ever see it again.
The knob turned smoothly under his hand, and the door opened to reveal two figures laughing on the floor of the small sitting room.
“What the-!” Severus started pulling out his wand instinctively at the intruders on the floor thinking they were Death Eaters.
“Stupefy!” Death Eaters? Clearly he had been working as a spy for far too long, he was a Death Eater. They were most likely a couple of kids who needed a private place to do whatever teenagers do in a private place. Snape put his hand on his chest; he really was getting too old for this sort of thing.
Severus walked around before realizing something was very different about the room…the furniture, it was gone! The desk, his chairs! Gone! Someone was going to burn…the insolent vandals had probably sold them for money.
“Idiots,” he muttered. He took a step forward and realized that they looked strangely familiar.
“Potter? Granger?” The spell was wearing off now. Potter’s hand was already moving toward his pocket, and Granger’s eyes were blinking at a disturbingly rapid pace.
“What the hell are you doing here?” both he and Potter asked at the same time. Potter was on his feet with his wand pointed at Severus. The boy was a menace…a lucky idiot, but a menace all the same.
“This is my house!” he answered. Had Potter come for revenge? Perhaps he was never to be released after all; it was a ploy for execution without trial. He should have expected it…honestly, a convicted Death Eater being released? Severus shook his head; he was becoming a romantic in his old age, and soon he would actually be planting flowers the Muggle way and helping old ladies across the street. He should just kill them…pity his wand wasn’t real.
“Why are you in my house? I will kill you if you don’t leave now.” It was a lie; this was a temporary wand with limited spell use. He was still considered to be on probation. His other wand had snapped during the Final Battle.
“This is your house?” Potter actually looked genuinely surprised. Snape simply gave him a look.
“Yes Mr. Potter, this is my house. Meaning you and your whore have defiled a perfectly good floor. I shall have to burn it now.”
“Excuse me?” Hermione said, not quite able to keep up with his caustic remarks in her drunken state. Harry wavered slightly; Hermione touched his leg as though to push him back upright.
“You should be in Azkaban.” Hermione said.
“I was released.”
“WHAT?” They were both off the floor now. Snape sneered at them; it was going to be a long night.
That is, if they didn’t kill each other first.
***
“Oh…hmm…interesting, odd. Ugh.”
“What is it?”
“Well, it appears as though there has been a mistake.”
“Really? A mistake…” Hermione said sarcastically. After the demise of Voldemort, it seemed as though half the Ministry had fallen apart. No longer united, they fell into different factions, all fighting for control of power.
“Mhmm, Severus Snape prisoner number 8956, was never supposed to be released. It was prisoner number 8965, the five and the six were switched by whoever worked down in the processing department. It’s a simple mistake…it shouldn’t be hard to fix.”
“Why was the prisoner being released anyway?”
“He was dead.”
“Oh.”
“Well, are you going to send Aurors back out to arrest him?”
“Um…not quite yet. Now I have to resubmit all the paperwork. Probably in about a month or so.”
“A month! He’s a murderer!” Hermione had the strangest desire to punch the man. It really wasn’t his fault, but everything had been going so well. She hoped this was not the proverbial grain of rice that tipped Harry’s scale. He appeared to be fine, but one does not kill people and then go back to having a normal life.
“There is nothing I can do; I have a lot of paperwork.”
“I don’t care about your fucking idiotic paperwork! Get him off the street!” The slight man stepped back in surprise at her outburst. He had been a Ravenclaw….Ferry? No, Fabio? Something like that.
“I c-can’t! The Ministry is filled with paperwork! We’ve had to overhaul entire departments because of imperius curse suspicions! Suspicions! It is ridiculous!” The man moved his hands in circles as beads of sweat dripped from his forehead.
“Get it done!” yelled Hermione.
“Can I go home now; it’s three in the morning.”
“No!” The man left, practically running out the door. The Auror who had observed the whole proceeding stepped forward.
“I’m afraid we really cannot legally do anything. The public wants everything done fair and public this time, no messy clean ups like last time.”
“What are we supposed to do?” The Auror looked at Snape before lowering his voice so that only Hermione and Harry could hear.
“Keep him. Watch him. The minute he slips up, report him; it's only a month, and there is no way he will be able to purchase a wand. He’s harmless really,” the Auror said before leaving the room.
“Well, what now?” Harry asked.
“For starters, you could get out of my home.”
“Shut up!”
“Potter, I need not point out to you how childish you sound.” Hermione noticed Harry going for his wand. Despite the fact Snape had helped them in the war, there was no love lost between him and Harry. Hermione wondered vaguely if they would notice if she fainted. Her head felt like it was splitting into two…she hadn’t felt this tired since that night at the hospital with Ron.
“Really? What are you going to do, take away house points?”
“Stop it! Both of you. I’m tired, and I’m going to bed in the house that I now own. I trust you two will work out your differences.” With that she apparated. She stormed through the front door, intending to crawl into bed, only to realize that she had none.
“God, please smite me now!” she cried before finding a cozy spot by the low burning fire and falling asleep.
***
She woke the next morning when a decidedly furry and sharp object started to use her hair as a plaything.
“Ow! Crookshanks!” She sat up wincing; the wood floor and her back were clearly not friends.
“Potter brought some food,” came a voice from behind her.
“Ahh! Oh, professor!” Hermione looked behind her where Severus Snape sat on a hard, winged-back chair reading what appeared to be The Daily Prophet. Crookshanks walked up to Snape and rubbed up against his leg before settling at Snape’s feet. Traitorous cat. Harry walked in from the kitchen.
“You’re awake.”
“Quite…painfully so.”
“You should have transfigured a bed.”
“I wasn’t thinking clearly. Why couldn’t you have levitated me?”
“Um…” Harry scratched the back of his neck.
“We are all here; we might as well have this talk.”
“I want you out of my house in two hours and my furniture back. I never want to see you again, and in return, I will not contact you or involve myself in your fate any longer,” Snape said, after taking a sip of tea looking pointedly at Harry.
“No. Harry and I bought this house at the auction. It is mine.” Hermione saw the battle over the house as another symbolic fight between good versus evil.
“A magical house is not simply bought and sold; it has a bond with its master. Why do you think the wards let me in last night?”
“I’m not leaving.”
“Ms. Granger!” Snape bared his teeth at her. Harry placed a hand on her shoulder. His grip was painfully tight.
“Hermione, it’s fine anyway. He’ll pay you back, and we can move somewhere else. This place is a dump anyway.” Harry whispered.
“No.” Snape wanted to throw a hex, a curse something to wipe that defiant look off her face.
“Fine, but I’m not leaving.”
“I call the Master bedroom,” said Harry
“Where is my furniture?”
“We sold it,” Hermione said. Snape simply snorted in disgust and walked away.
***
Week One…
From the Diary of Hermione Granger…
Diary,
I must confess that living in a house with two men (well, a boy and a greasy-haired git, who is genius at making pancakes, may I add) is not all that it’s cracked up to be. No matter what time I enter the house, someone has thrown their cloak on the floor. Snape sits around reading mostly. He and Harry don’t talk. Harry sits around and stares out into the yard for most of the day. Spring is coming…I’m trying to convince him to go out and plant something. It might do him some good. The strange thing is I’m almost positive that he is seeing someone…Harry leaves late at night and comes back before I wake up. It is all very strange. Snape mainly works in his lab. I don’t know what he does, but he orders supplies in. I suppose it is wise considering that upon occasion even I am tempted to kill him, but I think the war is over. I have no reason to want to relive its gory days…yet I hate him. I don’t even think I hated Voldemort as much. Snape deliberately hurt us simply because we were Gryffindors. It’s vicious and stupid. Mother says there is always some good in people, so I decided to exchange the olive branch the other day and asked him what color he wanted his room. I suggested a cream or something brighter…he told me in no uncertain terms that he wanted black.
I think I shall paint it pink.
***
“You are nothing but a coward who didn’t have the courtesy to die when he was supposed to!”
“I did what I had to do for my people!” Snape yelled back with venom. The argument had been building up for the past three or so days.
“You did nothing! It takes no courage to play both sides of the game and then in the end claim to be on the winning side!”
“And what did you do Potter? You sat around in some safe-house until the Order had prepared everything for you like a Sultan. It couldn’t have been easier if Voldemort had choked on a fishbone at a party!”
Harry launched himself at Snape with a roar. Snape easily side-stepped him leaving Harry to pick himself off the floor. Snape walked up the narrow set of steps presumably to his room.
“Are you okay?” Hermione asked. She had learned better than to interfere…it was the only time either of them looked alive. Hermione wondered if they would ever get over the war…for all its evil Harry thrived under its conditions. Now that it was over he seemed desolate, like a man who had lost his beloved wife. Hermione shook her head before walking out the door. It was Wednesday; time to visit Ron.
***
Hermione lay in bed later that night. Snape had retired early, and since Harry had disappeared to wherever he went these days Hermione ordered Indian take-out. The delivery boy had been Chinese. Desperate for some relatively sane company she had invited him in. In his broken English he explained to her how he had come by this job, it was a relatively amusing story involving a cross-dressing Asian man who needed to protect his secret. It was all going quite well until Snape had come down and made a few caustic remarks about the boy’s rather haggard appearance and attire.
Now she was alone again and in bed. The shadows seemed to grow longer as the minutes passed by. The door creaked open. Hermione sat up clutching her blankets to her.
“Hermione? Are you awake?” Harry asked, shutting the door behind him.
“Yeah, what is it Harry?”
“Nothing…I just wondered if you were here that’s all.” Hermione patted the bed, Harry sat down obligingly.
“You came here for something.”
“It’s strange…I can’t get used to having so much space around me.”
“Oh.” What had she expected, a confession? The truth?
“I went and saw Ron today.”
“The Healers say he’s improving.” Long shadows splayed across his profile.
“Yes…” unsure of what to say Hermione simply sat there.
“Have you thought about where you want to work?” Harry asked.
“No place will hire me until after I’ve taken the NEWTS.”
“But the research you did…”
“I don’t want to use your status or name. I want to earn my own. I’ve hired a tutor.”
“Oh…why didn’t you ask Snape?” Hermione didn’t even justify the question with an answer.
“Lie down, you look so uncomfortably hunched over like that.” Harry lay down as far away from her as he could.
“I lost my virginity...at least I think I did.” He burst out after a moment.
“What? That makes absolutely no sense.”
“It was with another guy….so would I have lost my sphinity or maybe arsinity? What’s the scientific name for arse?”
“Virginity has nothing to do with vaginas.”
“Oh…they both started with “v”. I just assumed.” Harry’s face bloomed crimson roses under his skin. It was an endearing thought for Hermione that, after everything they had been through, the thought of sex could make the Savior of the Wizarding World blush.
“…I didn’t know you were ready to go so far. I didn’t even really know you were into guys.” Harry shifted.
“Ididntknowitwasaguy.” So Harry was gay…to be honest she hadn’t expected that. What about Ginny and Cho? Well, Cho was out of the picture and Ginny was completing her final year in school.
“Excuse me?”
“Well, it was dark and I was drunk. I didn’t really know it was a guy.”
“Oh….” Hermione paused. It was simply too much….how did one fail to recognize a guy from a girl?
“I know you want to ask,” Harry said. She could hear the smile in his voice.
“How exactly do two guys go about doing this?”
“I can hear you!” Snape’s voice came through the wall. Harry immediately blushed such an intense red that Hermione wanted to stick his head out the window to cool him off.
“He is such a git,” Harry whispered after a moment. Hermione burst out laughing. Snape was Snape. He had been strangely subdued lately and seemed to favor his right arm. It was like living with a relative that you didn’t particularly like, but couldn’t turn out.
***
Week Two…
From the Journal of Severus Snape…
Journal,
This arrangement is strangely working out. Nobody dares vandalize the house. People would rather leave me alone than incur the wrath of Potter. Or maybe they simply don’t know I’m here… My hand is not healing as expected. A hand for a hand he said…the potion required to counteract the curse is not an easy one, and I have never doubted my abilities more than I do now. Granger is a good enough student, but she lacks the creativity needed to be a lab assistant.
I keep having this reoccurring dream where I am having tea with Narcissa out on the lawn in Hogwarts. It’s not a good dream, but certainly not the worst. I cannot possibly understand why I am having them…
I hear Potter thumping up the stairs. I should go and make some breakfast for myself. Potter adds oil in everything and Hermione lives entirely on take-out, I’m the only one who can cook. I do not do them the service of making them food as well.
***
Severus stepped out of the guest room shower and wrapped a towel around his waist. It was completely ridiculous really; he was reduced to a guest in a house that was rightfully his. He wiped the fog away from the mirror and stared at his reflection. He had a good jaw structure and his father had always said he had the nose of Attila the Hun, a great Muggle warrior. Muggle or not, Severus had read of Attila’s exploits and they were quite impressive if not crude. He struck warrior worthy poses, flexing his biceps in the mirror.
The door suddenly swung open to reveal Granger.
“AHHHH! I’M SO SORRY PROFESSOR! I DIDN’T KNOW!” With that, she slammed the door and walked out.
Most unusual start for the day. Severus put on some hair smoother or something of the sort; it had worked for him in the past and prevented fly-aways, and went downstairs. The two brats (where was the third Severus didn’t know nor did he care at this point) were already seated at the table. They were also giggling suspiciously.
“I am going out this evening,” he announced. He wasn’t going to announce that by out he meant to the garden. Perhaps Potter was right, he was a coward. He would rather spend his days here in this hell hole than face the consequences of his actions. At this point Potter fell out of his chair laughing; Severus walked past him and “accidentally” kicked him in the groin.
“Egggnitut!” Harry wasn’t laughing anymore; instead lay on the floor in the fetal position. Satisfied, Snape walked around to get some eggs using his good hand to open the refrigerator (a truly fascinating muggle contraption that Granger had bought). Granger snickered in her porridge.
“The next person to giggle, snicker, or cough will lose their ear…permanently," he said. Potter had managed to drag himself onto one of the dining room chairs. Severus had to admit Granger’s selection in furniture was not as bad as he thought it would be, but she always picked comfort over opulence. The sitting room now had comfy chairs instead of the impressive wing-backed chairs they had once possessed.
“Ah…but what do we need our ears for? We laugh with our mouths!” Hermione said somberly. Severus scowled and continued to make his omelet, Potter brushed by him accidentally brushing his left hand. White-pain shot through it, it was nearly crippling. The pain ointment was upstairs. He went into this room only to discover-
“SEVEN HELLS AND THE DARK LORDS TEETH! WHAT HAVE YOU DONE? MY WALLS!” Severus stood in a pink room…at least she hadn’t touched the new bed he had bought (with Potter’s money, really that boy should learn not to leave his Gringottt’s statement lying around).
“I thought it really opened up the room, Professor,” Granger said from behind him.
“Oh. My. God. Snape! Your room is so fabulously pink! Want to do my hair later?” Potter asked mockingly his head cocked to one side. Potter! That stupid creature! Severus cursed the very day he was born. Potter had taken away bits and pieces of his life…this was too much.
“Leave!” Severus screamed. The house seemed to shake with fury as he lost control completely. Potter left. Granger stayed.
“Did your puny Mudblood mind not comprehend the meaning of leave? Let me rephrase it, you are not welcome here. I don’t want you here, leave my house!”
“What’s wrong with your arm?”
“What’s wrong with your brain?”
“You should get it treated before it gets any worse.”
“There is nothing wrong with my arm! Mind your own business.”
“Really,” Hermione said. She picked up his journal. He prayed to whatever gods watched over wizards that she wouldn’t riffle through it or that it wouldn’t fall open. Severus could picture his tombstone now “Here lies Severus Snape, killed by embarrassment”.
“Catch,” she threw it towards the left side of his body. His left arm went out automatically, his sleeve fell back revealing his bruising and decaying hand.
“Telling lies is wrong, Professor; surely I need not remind you of that.”
The walls were back to their normal dark brown by the time he came up for bed.
***
Week Three….
From the Diary of Hermione Granger…
Diary,
Snape is stranger than ever. He refuses to talk to Harry after the Pink Wall Incident. He’s an enigma for sure…one minute he seems perfect normal and content to simply be left alone and the next, he provokes Harry and fights with him just to prove that he can. His hand must pain terribly, and he is not allowed to purchase pain potions without a license, and it must be hard for him to brew it with only one good hand. I am not so cruel as to provoke him. I keep reminding Harry that he’s only here for another two weeks at the most. There is no doubt that he will be persecuted for his crimes.
I suppose it is human nature to try and find symbolism in everything. For example, this morning I was woken up by a scream. Expecting a mob or something of that nature I ran downstairs only to find Harry laughing. I will admit, I was bewildered…for a minute I was afraid he was insane. It was raining and thundering outside, which is generally considered to be ominous, but then Harry shoved a letter in my face from St. Mungos.
Ron’s awake!
****
“Hermione,” Harry’s voice filtered in through the door. Hermione put down the book she was reading.
“What is it?” Harry had been giddy since their visit with Ron.
“Guess what I did?” Hermione raised one eyebrow, giving him the questioning look she had perfected during the war.
“Please say you haven’t been drinking.” Harry rubbed the back of his neck one hand still behind his back.
“I haven’t drunk anything since that night.” Hermione nodded vaguely…Harry still hadn’t been able to figure out who he had slept with that one night and it bothered him that he didn’t know
“What are you hiding behind your back?” Harry smirked before pulling out a book…it looked familiar. It was the same book she had picked up off Snape’s floor the previous week.
“It’s Snape’s diary!”
“What?”
“Snape’s diary…I found it while cleaning.”
“…where were you cleaning?”
“All right, I went into this room to make sure he wasn’t hiding anything dangerous. The Auror told us to be careful!” he said after she gave him a look. Somehow Snape’s diary made the whole thing seem so girly.
“I think it’s called a journal when its author is male,” Hermione said after a moment.
“Really?”
“Does it matter? What are you planning on doing with it? It really isn’t nice to read other people’s private thoughts.”
“No, Hermione! He writes poetry…not only that, but love poetry! Oh, if we were back at Hogwarts no one would have been scared of him.”
“What?” Hermione was genuinely shocked now…true Snape appeared to be a literary person, but he was so analytical! It was hard to imagine Snape sitting down to write poetry. Harry was already flipping through the pages.
“Eww! He mentions having “affections” for you! Gross. Ugh..bleh.” Harry said.
“What!” Hermione lunged for the diary.
“I’m kidding. Oh God, Hermione! Get off me! I can’t breathe!” Hermione moved off Harry’s chest.
“Listen to this, Oh, thine eyes glitter in this periwinkle light where we lay facing, on the bed of satin cloth-.” Harry began making his voice breathy and high.
“STOP!” Suddenly the diary was flying out of Harry’s hand to Snape’s who stood at the entrance of her room. He caught it with his right hand neatly. He looked angry…so angry. Hermione was afraid of what would happen next.
“How much did you read?” he asked Potter.
“Um...” Harry began. Snape made a violent movement with his wand. Hermione flinched reflexively as the pulse of lights streaked past her face and hit Harry straight in the chest.
“Just the last two pages….have I mentioned I wrote a letter from Ginny today telling her I couldn’t be with her anymore. I don’t even know what to say to her anymore. We just aren’t alike…I didn’t want to admit that I would rather date Ron than her because-.” Harry’s eyes were wide open in shock as the words came tumbling out of his mouth. Snape caught her eye. [The Harry/Ron shipper deep within my soul just said squee!]
“Babble hex…” he said, smiling nastily before leaving her room. She muttered a quick finte and Harry immediately stopped.
“We should have put a silencio up,” Harry offered with a weak smile. Hermione didn’t smile back.
***
The next morning Hermione woke up early to prepare the house for Ron’s arrival. She had gone out and bought a box of brownie mix from the grocery store. It seemed easy enough. She mixed the ingredients in a large bowl, when a large crash sounded from the basement. Shocked, she almost dropped the mix. What was going on? Snape hated them enough at the moment, but on the other hand, Potions was a notoriously difficult and volatile subject…he could be hurt. It shouldn’t have mattered…Snape deserved to die anyway.
Hermione kept on stirring. The loud clanging noises became progressively louder until it was so loud that Hermione could barely hear Harry calling her name from the kitchen entrance asking her what was wrong. Obviously something had gone wrong…Hermione walked down the stairs toward Snape’s lab and gasped at the sight she encountered.
Everything appeared to be covered in a thin film of green goo. Her open hair still damp from the shower flew around her like a swarm of knats. She spit out a chunk of hair. The strange wind seemed to circulate throughout the dungeon, clanging the various cauldrons together at a worryingly fast pace…well, that appeared to be the noise. Where was Snape?
“Professor!” She called out into the wind. Snape’s face appeared from behind an overturned table.
“Granger! Heelios and snake feathers were mixed! You need to neutralize it! This stupid fucking crap junk wand won’t!” Crap! Heelios and snake feathers were famously incompatible….Snape would have known that. The counter-curse was something like pod…pod something.
“I thought you were the brains! The spell is podcastille!” Snape yelled from the back. She was smart! She hadn’t been in school a whole year; she wasn’t even there when it was taught.
“Podcastille!” she yelled waving her wand. Instantly the winds stopped. Snape stood up looking more or less like he had been through a tornado and dusted his robes off.
“That will be all...you may leave now,” he said before turning around toward the supply cabinet and promptly beginning to clear away the mess.
“What? That’s it! You could have died! How would we have explained that?” Hermione burst out after a moment. This was ridiculous!
“I don’t need your help or your advice on how to live my life,” Snape said clumsily holding a ginger root, a knife, and a pile of papers in the same hand.
“Give me that!” Hermione said grabbing the ginger root and the knife. “How do you need to chop it?”
Snape actually looked surprised.
“I don’t need your help.”
“At the rate you are going, you will finish this potion just in time to watch your hand fall off.” Snape opened his mouth as if to say something, but was interrupted by the shouts of exaltation and shuffling feet.
“Ron’s here! Just…uhh. Stay down here. We haven’t really mentioned anything about you…” Hermione said running up the stairs.
“Ron!” Ron turned around to face her; a smile broke out across his face. The bandages were still there, but most of the bruises appeared to be healing well.
“Hermione!” Ron said. They hugged, his fingers moved up and down her back in a comforting manner. Harry smiled at her from over Ron’s shoulder.
“Mr. Weasley,” Snape’s voice held no malice.
Ron turned around, almost slipping on the rug.
“Wha-what? Did you hear Snape’s voice?” he asked Harry. When he caught sight of Snape in the background, his jaw fell open.
“I think I’ve gone mad Harry, I’m seeing Snape!”
“I think there are a few things we need to discuss. You’re rooming with me in the Master.” Harry said, pulling Ron away from the kitchen.
“Mate, take me back to St. Mungos…I’ve gone insane. Barking mad.”
“Not quite yet…hear me out first.”
***
Ron walked in the sitting room after dinner freshly showered carrying gift-wrapped packages.
“Mum knitted us sweaters,” he said as a way of explanation. Snape actually smiled from behind his book.
“Uh…so you lived…” Ron said to Snape. Snape ignored him and continued to read.
“Yes, I tend to do that,” Snape replied, his eyes never leaving the page. [Nice.]
“For the record, I still hate you, and I think you deserve to die. Now that we’ve gotten that out of the way, I want you to teach me to brew Wolfsbane,” Harry said to Snape, settling himself next to Hermione on the couch.
“No.”
“It wasn’t really a choice Snape, I want to learn how to brew Wolfsbane and you will teach me. At the moment we are the only thing standing between you and a sure death…” Harry trailed off. Snape’s face tightened creating wrinkles where there were none before. Hermione frowned.
“Potter, I won’t be here long enough to teach you if you haven’t forgotten.”
***
Hermione slammed the door shut behind her and quickly warded the door.
What’s wrong Hermione?” Ron asked.
“They’ve found us.” Ron’s expression turned serious. “I’ll get Harry.” The sound of a slamming door was heard and Harry walked into the sitting room dripping with sweat, his shirt torn in several places. The muffled sound of bodies hitting the door sounded in the background
“I was weeding the garden, and they came out of nowhere!” he exclaimed, wiping off his forehead.
***
Week Four…
From the Journal of Severus Snape…
Journal,
Strangely enough Potter defended us against the press. After the initial onslaught of fans and attention-seekers the Mob of Worshippers (Now with complete with 150% more idiots than before!) took a decidedly odd turn. They have taken to trying to spy on Potter, Granger and Weasley. I suppose I should be grateful that they are such private people that my presence isn’t revealed, but gratitude is not a genuine emotion in my books.
I feel strangely at peace. The potion will be done, with Granger’s help, and I'll be shipped off to Azkaban at the end of the week. Granger seems more reserved than normal lately. Now that Potter and Weasley have got each other, they don’t need a third wheel. Not to mention Granger’s ah…intellectual interests lie elsewhere.
I should go out and do something I suppose… I’ve always wanted to visit the Caribbean; potion ingredients are available at half the price there. I have been indentured to someone else for so long that I fear, I have lost part of my free will… there is nothing worth fighting for anymore. I’ve lost a lot in the war, even parts of my magic that aren’t likely to be retuned too soon.
***
Hermione stood quietly chopping vegetables for dinner as Severus stirred the soup.
“Where have Potty, excuse me, Potter and Weasley gone?” He asked after a moment.
“They are playing Quidditch with some classmates somewhere…” she replied. Severus waited, as a teenager making small talk had seemed like an overrated skill. Why talk when you could hex? Now he was regretting it…he had forgotten that the "golden trio" was only eighteen. Old enough to be considered independent, but young enough that they could still feel turbulent teenage emotion.
“I once played Quidditch.” He said.
“Oh…only once?”
“James Potter and Sirius magicked my broom out from under me. I fell thirty feet.” More like three, but who was she to judge his embellishments?
“…what did you do to provoke them?”
“I might have told Potter Sr. that Lily was pregnant with my child.” Hermione started laughing. Snape felt affronted and stupid…small talk was stupid, cross that off the list. An owl came through the window and dropped off a letter. Hermione broke the seal and read its contents her eyes flying over the page.
“What does it say?” Hermione chewed on a chunk of hair that had fallen out of her thick braid.
“Well…it appears as though you are going to be here awhile. The paperwork was filed incorrectly. It’ll be at least another month.”
Snape smiled and silently thanked Merlin for the idiot who invented paperwork.
“I read in Ministry, a History, that if a prisoner is let out for more than two months without any relapses they have to be released from state control.” For once, Granger’s brains had come into good use.
“Hand me the salt, please.” Snape said. Perhaps he would take that vacation after all.
I recieved X Marks the Spot written by leni_jess! Thank you, I really did enjoy it.
Because I was *cough*late*cough* there were a few unintended minor errors, so I'm reposting a revised version here on my LJ.
What Happened in the House on Spinner's End
Pairing: None. Characters: Harry, Snape, Hermione, and Ron.
Rating: PG-13
Summary:Post-war. Snape is released from prison (due to an error in paperwork). He goes home only to find something different about the place.
***
“Tea cake, Severus?” Narcissa said opening a tin to reveal a beautiful array of tiny cakes clearly sent from home.
“No thanks.” Severus said. Tea cakes and rabbits? This was all those puny people could think about. There was a revolution upon them and instead of practicing spells or planning they were sitting here on the green grass eating teacakes. Severus pulled out a worn leather journal and a quill.
“Oh! Stop that!” Narcissa said, reaching over to grab his book. He grappled for it, careful not to scratch her delicate white skin.
“Let me see what you have written? Love poems to Eliza Reed perhaps? Or maybe Lily Evans?” she asked, raising one eyebrow.
“Give it back, Narcissa!” He grabbed for it. Laughing, she moved out of reach.
“How bad can it be?” she asked before flipping open to a random page in the middle.
“Oh, thine eyes glitter in this periwinkle light where we lay facing, on the bed of satin cloth-.”
“STOP!”
Severus Snape woke up suddenly, the opaque light filtered through high prison window of his cell.
Just a dream…
***
Hermione Granger sat in a cold white chair in the cold waiting room. Her clothes hung off her small frame making her look like a child playing grown-up. She had been awake for twenty seven hours straight waiting for news. It was supposed to be over…one of the hybrid werewolves shouldn't have escaped and attacked Ron. It simply wasn't fair! The door opened slowly revealing a Healer covered in blood stains. They all stood up.
“He’ll live,” the Healer finally said. Hermione practically collapsed on the seat in defeat. Harry put his arm around her, one of the few times he had actually touched her in all their years of friendship.
Mrs. Weasley sobbed into her grimy handkerchief leaving smudges of dirt on her face
“Ron,” Mr. Weasley whispered, covering his face. Hermione felt the irrational urge to laugh in the face of this unique type of destruction.
“But he’s in a coma.”
Mrs. Weasley gave one final sob before collapsing onto the floor. Hermione could almost
see hope fly away from her.
***
“And here are the keys, Mr. Potter,” the realtor concluded, handing Harry a pouch.
“Thank you,” Harry said. Hermione stopped in surprise. It was the first time Harry had spoken since the Healers had announced Ron’s condition. Granted, it had only been three days, but the press had already published articles “revealing” the cause of Harry’s silence was the loss of his lover during the final battle.
“I trust you won’t mention this to anyone,” Hermione said to the realtor before he walked out the door.
“Privacy is my middle name!” The portly man exclaimed before slipping out the door.
“Well, what now?” Harry asked looking out past the main entrance of the house on Spinner’s End into the kitchen. Hermione had been afraid that it would end up being an old-fashioned gothic manor, but it was a surprisingly nice and airy house. Hermione had them remove everything in the house except the books from the library. It wasn’t much, but it was somewhere new. A place untouched where she could sit down and read…
“We need to unpack,” she said. Harry gave her an amused look. They had already brought in all their stuff; two trunks and a bad tempered cat. The war had not allowed for good shopping.
“But first, I think we need things to unpack.”
“Which room are you taking?”
“I don’t know. Which one do you want?”
“The one at the end of the hall.”
“Ahh…right.”
“I guess I’ll take the other guest room and Ron can have the Master.”
“I think Ron would want you to have the Master.”
“Hermione…do you think Ron will be okay?”
“I don’t know, Harry. Let’s go out and shop. We don’t even have a bed in this place.”
***
From the diary of Hermione Granger…
Diary,
I suppose I should have gone back to my parent’s house after sixth year…but I didn’t. It wasn’t that I had a falling out with them, rather we just grew apart. I didn’t spend my days and nights in seventh year worrying about my parents, I spent them worrying about Harry and Ron and whoever else wasn’t there. I love my parents. They understand that, but I am not their Hermione Granger anymore, I’m just Hermione.
***
The war destroyed many things, the lives of children and adults alike, Voldemort and Severus Snape’s favorite pair of socks. Severus sat in the corner. Since his cell mate had died (he had eaten the rat poison rather than face the court) he had been alone. Roger, Roderick or something…his body lay on the opposite side of the cell. They had yet to come retrieve it. It was going to start to stink soon. He clutched his left hand close to his body, seeing Albus Dumbledore in front of him.
The light had begun to play tricks on him again…or perhaps it was the fact the guards had mysteriously forgotten to serve him food for the last two days. The wall in front of him shifted, revealing the outline of a door, which swung open to reveal a pair of guards.
“Have you come for the body?” Severus said wearily, his voice cracking.
“Prisoner number 8956, you’re free to go,” Severus looked up in surprise. This was rather unexpected…he must be hallucinating again. He was 8956…he had spent the first month trying to decipher the significance of the number before realizing that there was no significance. There never was any…
“Oi! 8965, get over here!” Severus stood up, straightening to his full height; the effect was somewhat diminished by the bruises on his face and the fact his left arm dangled uselessly at his side.
“I am here,” Severus said to the guard. Shocked, the guard pulled out his wand, accidentally hitting Severus in the eye with his wand. The taller guard stood back, amused and clearly content with letting his rookie partner handle the proceedings. Severus rubbed his eye. Clearly, they were sending trainees here to guard a prison full of Ex-Death Eaters. Stupid. Very stupid.
“Ow! You stupid klutz, a wand isn’t a toy!” Severus exclaimed, tempted to hit the man upside the head and take his wand away like a toddler, but refrained upon realizing that his teaching days were over for good.
“This way,” the guard said leading him down a series of hallways before they reached the office of the Ward. They gave him back his clothing and wand and asked him to sign a few forms. And then he left. Severus couldn’t believe it; he was a free man. Without the walls, the wind beat down on him from all sides. He stared at the filthy Death Eater robes in front of him. He gave one last look at the place that had been his home for the last three months before apparating to the house on Spinner’s End.
What now? In the span of two hours Severus’s possibilities had gone from nothing to everything. First step, Severus thought as he walked to the apparition area was to get some new clothes and repair his arm.
In retrospect, the easiness of it should have been an indication that something was wrong.
***
Hermione and Harry staggered into the house. Harry slurred the spells to open the wards once or twice before finally getting the correct spell. After ordering some furniture, they had met some partying Gryffindors who simply had to buy both of them a drink…or two…or seven. Hermione lay down on the floor after entering the house.
“That was interesting.”
“Yep, the beds will be here in two weeks. What are we going to do until then?”
“We could transfigure beds.” Hermione grabbed one of her shoes.
“Sounds good, I think. I suppose you know the spell?”
“Yeah.”
***
A long figure clothed in black walked up the path to the house and went inside. The wards immediately shifted to allow him entry. It was a strange feeling to be back in his home; he hadn’t expected to ever see it again.
The knob turned smoothly under his hand, and the door opened to reveal two figures laughing on the floor of the small sitting room.
“What the-!” Severus started pulling out his wand instinctively at the intruders on the floor thinking they were Death Eaters.
“Stupefy!” Death Eaters? Clearly he had been working as a spy for far too long, he was a Death Eater. They were most likely a couple of kids who needed a private place to do whatever teenagers do in a private place. Snape put his hand on his chest; he really was getting too old for this sort of thing.
Severus walked around before realizing something was very different about the room…the furniture, it was gone! The desk, his chairs! Gone! Someone was going to burn…the insolent vandals had probably sold them for money.
“Idiots,” he muttered. He took a step forward and realized that they looked strangely familiar.
“Potter? Granger?” The spell was wearing off now. Potter’s hand was already moving toward his pocket, and Granger’s eyes were blinking at a disturbingly rapid pace.
“What the hell are you doing here?” both he and Potter asked at the same time. Potter was on his feet with his wand pointed at Severus. The boy was a menace…a lucky idiot, but a menace all the same.
“This is my house!” he answered. Had Potter come for revenge? Perhaps he was never to be released after all; it was a ploy for execution without trial. He should have expected it…honestly, a convicted Death Eater being released? Severus shook his head; he was becoming a romantic in his old age, and soon he would actually be planting flowers the Muggle way and helping old ladies across the street. He should just kill them…pity his wand wasn’t real.
“Why are you in my house? I will kill you if you don’t leave now.” It was a lie; this was a temporary wand with limited spell use. He was still considered to be on probation. His other wand had snapped during the Final Battle.
“This is your house?” Potter actually looked genuinely surprised. Snape simply gave him a look.
“Yes Mr. Potter, this is my house. Meaning you and your whore have defiled a perfectly good floor. I shall have to burn it now.”
“Excuse me?” Hermione said, not quite able to keep up with his caustic remarks in her drunken state. Harry wavered slightly; Hermione touched his leg as though to push him back upright.
“You should be in Azkaban.” Hermione said.
“I was released.”
“WHAT?” They were both off the floor now. Snape sneered at them; it was going to be a long night.
That is, if they didn’t kill each other first.
***
“Oh…hmm…interesting, odd. Ugh.”
“What is it?”
“Well, it appears as though there has been a mistake.”
“Really? A mistake…” Hermione said sarcastically. After the demise of Voldemort, it seemed as though half the Ministry had fallen apart. No longer united, they fell into different factions, all fighting for control of power.
“Mhmm, Severus Snape prisoner number 8956, was never supposed to be released. It was prisoner number 8965, the five and the six were switched by whoever worked down in the processing department. It’s a simple mistake…it shouldn’t be hard to fix.”
“Why was the prisoner being released anyway?”
“He was dead.”
“Oh.”
“Well, are you going to send Aurors back out to arrest him?”
“Um…not quite yet. Now I have to resubmit all the paperwork. Probably in about a month or so.”
“A month! He’s a murderer!” Hermione had the strangest desire to punch the man. It really wasn’t his fault, but everything had been going so well. She hoped this was not the proverbial grain of rice that tipped Harry’s scale. He appeared to be fine, but one does not kill people and then go back to having a normal life.
“There is nothing I can do; I have a lot of paperwork.”
“I don’t care about your fucking idiotic paperwork! Get him off the street!” The slight man stepped back in surprise at her outburst. He had been a Ravenclaw….Ferry? No, Fabio? Something like that.
“I c-can’t! The Ministry is filled with paperwork! We’ve had to overhaul entire departments because of imperius curse suspicions! Suspicions! It is ridiculous!” The man moved his hands in circles as beads of sweat dripped from his forehead.
“Get it done!” yelled Hermione.
“Can I go home now; it’s three in the morning.”
“No!” The man left, practically running out the door. The Auror who had observed the whole proceeding stepped forward.
“I’m afraid we really cannot legally do anything. The public wants everything done fair and public this time, no messy clean ups like last time.”
“What are we supposed to do?” The Auror looked at Snape before lowering his voice so that only Hermione and Harry could hear.
“Keep him. Watch him. The minute he slips up, report him; it's only a month, and there is no way he will be able to purchase a wand. He’s harmless really,” the Auror said before leaving the room.
“Well, what now?” Harry asked.
“For starters, you could get out of my home.”
“Shut up!”
“Potter, I need not point out to you how childish you sound.” Hermione noticed Harry going for his wand. Despite the fact Snape had helped them in the war, there was no love lost between him and Harry. Hermione wondered vaguely if they would notice if she fainted. Her head felt like it was splitting into two…she hadn’t felt this tired since that night at the hospital with Ron.
“Really? What are you going to do, take away house points?”
“Stop it! Both of you. I’m tired, and I’m going to bed in the house that I now own. I trust you two will work out your differences.” With that she apparated. She stormed through the front door, intending to crawl into bed, only to realize that she had none.
“God, please smite me now!” she cried before finding a cozy spot by the low burning fire and falling asleep.
***
She woke the next morning when a decidedly furry and sharp object started to use her hair as a plaything.
“Ow! Crookshanks!” She sat up wincing; the wood floor and her back were clearly not friends.
“Potter brought some food,” came a voice from behind her.
“Ahh! Oh, professor!” Hermione looked behind her where Severus Snape sat on a hard, winged-back chair reading what appeared to be The Daily Prophet. Crookshanks walked up to Snape and rubbed up against his leg before settling at Snape’s feet. Traitorous cat. Harry walked in from the kitchen.
“You’re awake.”
“Quite…painfully so.”
“You should have transfigured a bed.”
“I wasn’t thinking clearly. Why couldn’t you have levitated me?”
“Um…” Harry scratched the back of his neck.
“We are all here; we might as well have this talk.”
“I want you out of my house in two hours and my furniture back. I never want to see you again, and in return, I will not contact you or involve myself in your fate any longer,” Snape said, after taking a sip of tea looking pointedly at Harry.
“No. Harry and I bought this house at the auction. It is mine.” Hermione saw the battle over the house as another symbolic fight between good versus evil.
“A magical house is not simply bought and sold; it has a bond with its master. Why do you think the wards let me in last night?”
“I’m not leaving.”
“Ms. Granger!” Snape bared his teeth at her. Harry placed a hand on her shoulder. His grip was painfully tight.
“Hermione, it’s fine anyway. He’ll pay you back, and we can move somewhere else. This place is a dump anyway.” Harry whispered.
“No.” Snape wanted to throw a hex, a curse something to wipe that defiant look off her face.
“Fine, but I’m not leaving.”
“I call the Master bedroom,” said Harry
“Where is my furniture?”
“We sold it,” Hermione said. Snape simply snorted in disgust and walked away.
***
Week One…
From the Diary of Hermione Granger…
Diary,
I must confess that living in a house with two men (well, a boy and a greasy-haired git, who is genius at making pancakes, may I add) is not all that it’s cracked up to be. No matter what time I enter the house, someone has thrown their cloak on the floor. Snape sits around reading mostly. He and Harry don’t talk. Harry sits around and stares out into the yard for most of the day. Spring is coming…I’m trying to convince him to go out and plant something. It might do him some good. The strange thing is I’m almost positive that he is seeing someone…Harry leaves late at night and comes back before I wake up. It is all very strange. Snape mainly works in his lab. I don’t know what he does, but he orders supplies in. I suppose it is wise considering that upon occasion even I am tempted to kill him, but I think the war is over. I have no reason to want to relive its gory days…yet I hate him. I don’t even think I hated Voldemort as much. Snape deliberately hurt us simply because we were Gryffindors. It’s vicious and stupid. Mother says there is always some good in people, so I decided to exchange the olive branch the other day and asked him what color he wanted his room. I suggested a cream or something brighter…he told me in no uncertain terms that he wanted black.
I think I shall paint it pink.
***
“You are nothing but a coward who didn’t have the courtesy to die when he was supposed to!”
“I did what I had to do for my people!” Snape yelled back with venom. The argument had been building up for the past three or so days.
“You did nothing! It takes no courage to play both sides of the game and then in the end claim to be on the winning side!”
“And what did you do Potter? You sat around in some safe-house until the Order had prepared everything for you like a Sultan. It couldn’t have been easier if Voldemort had choked on a fishbone at a party!”
Harry launched himself at Snape with a roar. Snape easily side-stepped him leaving Harry to pick himself off the floor. Snape walked up the narrow set of steps presumably to his room.
“Are you okay?” Hermione asked. She had learned better than to interfere…it was the only time either of them looked alive. Hermione wondered if they would ever get over the war…for all its evil Harry thrived under its conditions. Now that it was over he seemed desolate, like a man who had lost his beloved wife. Hermione shook her head before walking out the door. It was Wednesday; time to visit Ron.
***
Hermione lay in bed later that night. Snape had retired early, and since Harry had disappeared to wherever he went these days Hermione ordered Indian take-out. The delivery boy had been Chinese. Desperate for some relatively sane company she had invited him in. In his broken English he explained to her how he had come by this job, it was a relatively amusing story involving a cross-dressing Asian man who needed to protect his secret. It was all going quite well until Snape had come down and made a few caustic remarks about the boy’s rather haggard appearance and attire.
Now she was alone again and in bed. The shadows seemed to grow longer as the minutes passed by. The door creaked open. Hermione sat up clutching her blankets to her.
“Hermione? Are you awake?” Harry asked, shutting the door behind him.
“Yeah, what is it Harry?”
“Nothing…I just wondered if you were here that’s all.” Hermione patted the bed, Harry sat down obligingly.
“You came here for something.”
“It’s strange…I can’t get used to having so much space around me.”
“Oh.” What had she expected, a confession? The truth?
“I went and saw Ron today.”
“The Healers say he’s improving.” Long shadows splayed across his profile.
“Yes…” unsure of what to say Hermione simply sat there.
“Have you thought about where you want to work?” Harry asked.
“No place will hire me until after I’ve taken the NEWTS.”
“But the research you did…”
“I don’t want to use your status or name. I want to earn my own. I’ve hired a tutor.”
“Oh…why didn’t you ask Snape?” Hermione didn’t even justify the question with an answer.
“Lie down, you look so uncomfortably hunched over like that.” Harry lay down as far away from her as he could.
“I lost my virginity...at least I think I did.” He burst out after a moment.
“What? That makes absolutely no sense.”
“It was with another guy….so would I have lost my sphinity or maybe arsinity? What’s the scientific name for arse?”
“Virginity has nothing to do with vaginas.”
“Oh…they both started with “v”. I just assumed.” Harry’s face bloomed crimson roses under his skin. It was an endearing thought for Hermione that, after everything they had been through, the thought of sex could make the Savior of the Wizarding World blush.
“…I didn’t know you were ready to go so far. I didn’t even really know you were into guys.” Harry shifted.
“Ididntknowitwasaguy.” So Harry was gay…to be honest she hadn’t expected that. What about Ginny and Cho? Well, Cho was out of the picture and Ginny was completing her final year in school.
“Excuse me?”
“Well, it was dark and I was drunk. I didn’t really know it was a guy.”
“Oh….” Hermione paused. It was simply too much….how did one fail to recognize a guy from a girl?
“I know you want to ask,” Harry said. She could hear the smile in his voice.
“How exactly do two guys go about doing this?”
“I can hear you!” Snape’s voice came through the wall. Harry immediately blushed such an intense red that Hermione wanted to stick his head out the window to cool him off.
“He is such a git,” Harry whispered after a moment. Hermione burst out laughing. Snape was Snape. He had been strangely subdued lately and seemed to favor his right arm. It was like living with a relative that you didn’t particularly like, but couldn’t turn out.
***
Week Two…
From the Journal of Severus Snape…
Journal,
This arrangement is strangely working out. Nobody dares vandalize the house. People would rather leave me alone than incur the wrath of Potter. Or maybe they simply don’t know I’m here… My hand is not healing as expected. A hand for a hand he said…the potion required to counteract the curse is not an easy one, and I have never doubted my abilities more than I do now. Granger is a good enough student, but she lacks the creativity needed to be a lab assistant.
I keep having this reoccurring dream where I am having tea with Narcissa out on the lawn in Hogwarts. It’s not a good dream, but certainly not the worst. I cannot possibly understand why I am having them…
I hear Potter thumping up the stairs. I should go and make some breakfast for myself. Potter adds oil in everything and Hermione lives entirely on take-out, I’m the only one who can cook. I do not do them the service of making them food as well.
***
Severus stepped out of the guest room shower and wrapped a towel around his waist. It was completely ridiculous really; he was reduced to a guest in a house that was rightfully his. He wiped the fog away from the mirror and stared at his reflection. He had a good jaw structure and his father had always said he had the nose of Attila the Hun, a great Muggle warrior. Muggle or not, Severus had read of Attila’s exploits and they were quite impressive if not crude. He struck warrior worthy poses, flexing his biceps in the mirror.
The door suddenly swung open to reveal Granger.
“AHHHH! I’M SO SORRY PROFESSOR! I DIDN’T KNOW!” With that, she slammed the door and walked out.
Most unusual start for the day. Severus put on some hair smoother or something of the sort; it had worked for him in the past and prevented fly-aways, and went downstairs. The two brats (where was the third Severus didn’t know nor did he care at this point) were already seated at the table. They were also giggling suspiciously.
“I am going out this evening,” he announced. He wasn’t going to announce that by out he meant to the garden. Perhaps Potter was right, he was a coward. He would rather spend his days here in this hell hole than face the consequences of his actions. At this point Potter fell out of his chair laughing; Severus walked past him and “accidentally” kicked him in the groin.
“Egggnitut!” Harry wasn’t laughing anymore; instead lay on the floor in the fetal position. Satisfied, Snape walked around to get some eggs using his good hand to open the refrigerator (a truly fascinating muggle contraption that Granger had bought). Granger snickered in her porridge.
“The next person to giggle, snicker, or cough will lose their ear…permanently," he said. Potter had managed to drag himself onto one of the dining room chairs. Severus had to admit Granger’s selection in furniture was not as bad as he thought it would be, but she always picked comfort over opulence. The sitting room now had comfy chairs instead of the impressive wing-backed chairs they had once possessed.
“Ah…but what do we need our ears for? We laugh with our mouths!” Hermione said somberly. Severus scowled and continued to make his omelet, Potter brushed by him accidentally brushing his left hand. White-pain shot through it, it was nearly crippling. The pain ointment was upstairs. He went into this room only to discover-
“SEVEN HELLS AND THE DARK LORDS TEETH! WHAT HAVE YOU DONE? MY WALLS!” Severus stood in a pink room…at least she hadn’t touched the new bed he had bought (with Potter’s money, really that boy should learn not to leave his Gringottt’s statement lying around).
“I thought it really opened up the room, Professor,” Granger said from behind him.
“Oh. My. God. Snape! Your room is so fabulously pink! Want to do my hair later?” Potter asked mockingly his head cocked to one side. Potter! That stupid creature! Severus cursed the very day he was born. Potter had taken away bits and pieces of his life…this was too much.
“Leave!” Severus screamed. The house seemed to shake with fury as he lost control completely. Potter left. Granger stayed.
“Did your puny Mudblood mind not comprehend the meaning of leave? Let me rephrase it, you are not welcome here. I don’t want you here, leave my house!”
“What’s wrong with your arm?”
“What’s wrong with your brain?”
“You should get it treated before it gets any worse.”
“There is nothing wrong with my arm! Mind your own business.”
“Really,” Hermione said. She picked up his journal. He prayed to whatever gods watched over wizards that she wouldn’t riffle through it or that it wouldn’t fall open. Severus could picture his tombstone now “Here lies Severus Snape, killed by embarrassment”.
“Catch,” she threw it towards the left side of his body. His left arm went out automatically, his sleeve fell back revealing his bruising and decaying hand.
“Telling lies is wrong, Professor; surely I need not remind you of that.”
The walls were back to their normal dark brown by the time he came up for bed.
***
Week Three….
From the Diary of Hermione Granger…
Diary,
Snape is stranger than ever. He refuses to talk to Harry after the Pink Wall Incident. He’s an enigma for sure…one minute he seems perfect normal and content to simply be left alone and the next, he provokes Harry and fights with him just to prove that he can. His hand must pain terribly, and he is not allowed to purchase pain potions without a license, and it must be hard for him to brew it with only one good hand. I am not so cruel as to provoke him. I keep reminding Harry that he’s only here for another two weeks at the most. There is no doubt that he will be persecuted for his crimes.
I suppose it is human nature to try and find symbolism in everything. For example, this morning I was woken up by a scream. Expecting a mob or something of that nature I ran downstairs only to find Harry laughing. I will admit, I was bewildered…for a minute I was afraid he was insane. It was raining and thundering outside, which is generally considered to be ominous, but then Harry shoved a letter in my face from St. Mungos.
Ron’s awake!
****
“Hermione,” Harry’s voice filtered in through the door. Hermione put down the book she was reading.
“What is it?” Harry had been giddy since their visit with Ron.
“Guess what I did?” Hermione raised one eyebrow, giving him the questioning look she had perfected during the war.
“Please say you haven’t been drinking.” Harry rubbed the back of his neck one hand still behind his back.
“I haven’t drunk anything since that night.” Hermione nodded vaguely…Harry still hadn’t been able to figure out who he had slept with that one night and it bothered him that he didn’t know
“What are you hiding behind your back?” Harry smirked before pulling out a book…it looked familiar. It was the same book she had picked up off Snape’s floor the previous week.
“It’s Snape’s diary!”
“What?”
“Snape’s diary…I found it while cleaning.”
“…where were you cleaning?”
“All right, I went into this room to make sure he wasn’t hiding anything dangerous. The Auror told us to be careful!” he said after she gave him a look. Somehow Snape’s diary made the whole thing seem so girly.
“I think it’s called a journal when its author is male,” Hermione said after a moment.
“Really?”
“Does it matter? What are you planning on doing with it? It really isn’t nice to read other people’s private thoughts.”
“No, Hermione! He writes poetry…not only that, but love poetry! Oh, if we were back at Hogwarts no one would have been scared of him.”
“What?” Hermione was genuinely shocked now…true Snape appeared to be a literary person, but he was so analytical! It was hard to imagine Snape sitting down to write poetry. Harry was already flipping through the pages.
“Eww! He mentions having “affections” for you! Gross. Ugh..bleh.” Harry said.
“What!” Hermione lunged for the diary.
“I’m kidding. Oh God, Hermione! Get off me! I can’t breathe!” Hermione moved off Harry’s chest.
“Listen to this, Oh, thine eyes glitter in this periwinkle light where we lay facing, on the bed of satin cloth-.” Harry began making his voice breathy and high.
“STOP!” Suddenly the diary was flying out of Harry’s hand to Snape’s who stood at the entrance of her room. He caught it with his right hand neatly. He looked angry…so angry. Hermione was afraid of what would happen next.
“How much did you read?” he asked Potter.
“Um...” Harry began. Snape made a violent movement with his wand. Hermione flinched reflexively as the pulse of lights streaked past her face and hit Harry straight in the chest.
“Just the last two pages….have I mentioned I wrote a letter from Ginny today telling her I couldn’t be with her anymore. I don’t even know what to say to her anymore. We just aren’t alike…I didn’t want to admit that I would rather date Ron than her because-.” Harry’s eyes were wide open in shock as the words came tumbling out of his mouth. Snape caught her eye. [The Harry/Ron shipper deep within my soul just said squee!]
“Babble hex…” he said, smiling nastily before leaving her room. She muttered a quick finte and Harry immediately stopped.
“We should have put a silencio up,” Harry offered with a weak smile. Hermione didn’t smile back.
***
The next morning Hermione woke up early to prepare the house for Ron’s arrival. She had gone out and bought a box of brownie mix from the grocery store. It seemed easy enough. She mixed the ingredients in a large bowl, when a large crash sounded from the basement. Shocked, she almost dropped the mix. What was going on? Snape hated them enough at the moment, but on the other hand, Potions was a notoriously difficult and volatile subject…he could be hurt. It shouldn’t have mattered…Snape deserved to die anyway.
Hermione kept on stirring. The loud clanging noises became progressively louder until it was so loud that Hermione could barely hear Harry calling her name from the kitchen entrance asking her what was wrong. Obviously something had gone wrong…Hermione walked down the stairs toward Snape’s lab and gasped at the sight she encountered.
Everything appeared to be covered in a thin film of green goo. Her open hair still damp from the shower flew around her like a swarm of knats. She spit out a chunk of hair. The strange wind seemed to circulate throughout the dungeon, clanging the various cauldrons together at a worryingly fast pace…well, that appeared to be the noise. Where was Snape?
“Professor!” She called out into the wind. Snape’s face appeared from behind an overturned table.
“Granger! Heelios and snake feathers were mixed! You need to neutralize it! This stupid fucking crap junk wand won’t!” Crap! Heelios and snake feathers were famously incompatible….Snape would have known that. The counter-curse was something like pod…pod something.
“I thought you were the brains! The spell is podcastille!” Snape yelled from the back. She was smart! She hadn’t been in school a whole year; she wasn’t even there when it was taught.
“Podcastille!” she yelled waving her wand. Instantly the winds stopped. Snape stood up looking more or less like he had been through a tornado and dusted his robes off.
“That will be all...you may leave now,” he said before turning around toward the supply cabinet and promptly beginning to clear away the mess.
“What? That’s it! You could have died! How would we have explained that?” Hermione burst out after a moment. This was ridiculous!
“I don’t need your help or your advice on how to live my life,” Snape said clumsily holding a ginger root, a knife, and a pile of papers in the same hand.
“Give me that!” Hermione said grabbing the ginger root and the knife. “How do you need to chop it?”
Snape actually looked surprised.
“I don’t need your help.”
“At the rate you are going, you will finish this potion just in time to watch your hand fall off.” Snape opened his mouth as if to say something, but was interrupted by the shouts of exaltation and shuffling feet.
“Ron’s here! Just…uhh. Stay down here. We haven’t really mentioned anything about you…” Hermione said running up the stairs.
“Ron!” Ron turned around to face her; a smile broke out across his face. The bandages were still there, but most of the bruises appeared to be healing well.
“Hermione!” Ron said. They hugged, his fingers moved up and down her back in a comforting manner. Harry smiled at her from over Ron’s shoulder.
“Mr. Weasley,” Snape’s voice held no malice.
Ron turned around, almost slipping on the rug.
“Wha-what? Did you hear Snape’s voice?” he asked Harry. When he caught sight of Snape in the background, his jaw fell open.
“I think I’ve gone mad Harry, I’m seeing Snape!”
“I think there are a few things we need to discuss. You’re rooming with me in the Master.” Harry said, pulling Ron away from the kitchen.
“Mate, take me back to St. Mungos…I’ve gone insane. Barking mad.”
“Not quite yet…hear me out first.”
***
Ron walked in the sitting room after dinner freshly showered carrying gift-wrapped packages.
“Mum knitted us sweaters,” he said as a way of explanation. Snape actually smiled from behind his book.
“Uh…so you lived…” Ron said to Snape. Snape ignored him and continued to read.
“Yes, I tend to do that,” Snape replied, his eyes never leaving the page. [Nice.]
“For the record, I still hate you, and I think you deserve to die. Now that we’ve gotten that out of the way, I want you to teach me to brew Wolfsbane,” Harry said to Snape, settling himself next to Hermione on the couch.
“No.”
“It wasn’t really a choice Snape, I want to learn how to brew Wolfsbane and you will teach me. At the moment we are the only thing standing between you and a sure death…” Harry trailed off. Snape’s face tightened creating wrinkles where there were none before. Hermione frowned.
“Potter, I won’t be here long enough to teach you if you haven’t forgotten.”
***
Hermione slammed the door shut behind her and quickly warded the door.
What’s wrong Hermione?” Ron asked.
“They’ve found us.” Ron’s expression turned serious. “I’ll get Harry.” The sound of a slamming door was heard and Harry walked into the sitting room dripping with sweat, his shirt torn in several places. The muffled sound of bodies hitting the door sounded in the background
“I was weeding the garden, and they came out of nowhere!” he exclaimed, wiping off his forehead.
***
Week Four…
From the Journal of Severus Snape…
Journal,
Strangely enough Potter defended us against the press. After the initial onslaught of fans and attention-seekers the Mob of Worshippers (Now with complete with 150% more idiots than before!) took a decidedly odd turn. They have taken to trying to spy on Potter, Granger and Weasley. I suppose I should be grateful that they are such private people that my presence isn’t revealed, but gratitude is not a genuine emotion in my books.
I feel strangely at peace. The potion will be done, with Granger’s help, and I'll be shipped off to Azkaban at the end of the week. Granger seems more reserved than normal lately. Now that Potter and Weasley have got each other, they don’t need a third wheel. Not to mention Granger’s ah…intellectual interests lie elsewhere.
I should go out and do something I suppose… I’ve always wanted to visit the Caribbean; potion ingredients are available at half the price there. I have been indentured to someone else for so long that I fear, I have lost part of my free will… there is nothing worth fighting for anymore. I’ve lost a lot in the war, even parts of my magic that aren’t likely to be retuned too soon.
***
Hermione stood quietly chopping vegetables for dinner as Severus stirred the soup.
“Where have Potty, excuse me, Potter and Weasley gone?” He asked after a moment.
“They are playing Quidditch with some classmates somewhere…” she replied. Severus waited, as a teenager making small talk had seemed like an overrated skill. Why talk when you could hex? Now he was regretting it…he had forgotten that the "golden trio" was only eighteen. Old enough to be considered independent, but young enough that they could still feel turbulent teenage emotion.
“I once played Quidditch.” He said.
“Oh…only once?”
“James Potter and Sirius magicked my broom out from under me. I fell thirty feet.” More like three, but who was she to judge his embellishments?
“…what did you do to provoke them?”
“I might have told Potter Sr. that Lily was pregnant with my child.” Hermione started laughing. Snape felt affronted and stupid…small talk was stupid, cross that off the list. An owl came through the window and dropped off a letter. Hermione broke the seal and read its contents her eyes flying over the page.
“What does it say?” Hermione chewed on a chunk of hair that had fallen out of her thick braid.
“Well…it appears as though you are going to be here awhile. The paperwork was filed incorrectly. It’ll be at least another month.”
Snape smiled and silently thanked Merlin for the idiot who invented paperwork.
“I read in Ministry, a History, that if a prisoner is let out for more than two months without any relapses they have to be released from state control.” For once, Granger’s brains had come into good use.
“Hand me the salt, please.” Snape said. Perhaps he would take that vacation after all.