"Thank the Fae" by gingerbred Chapter 10
Christmas Eve of Adduction... Part 4
Hermione dreams up a present for Severus. Hogwarts survives its first pared-down breakfast, and tea of varying qualities is drunk with a variety of results, possibly including blushing.
Originally Published: 2017-02-10 on AO3
Chapter: 10 / 13 of ?
Pairing: Hermione Granger / Severus Snape
Disclaimer:
JKR owns the lot. I own bugger all, and shan't profit in the least. Except for kudos and comments, both of which are lovely and appreciated. (*nudge nudge, wink wink*)
Previously:
Severus and Hermione ran into each other in the Forbidden Forest and talked and laughed. Swept up in the moment, Hermione even gave the stunned Potions Master a hug. He survived, but only just.
Some Hufflepuffs saw the Potions Master laughing and spread the word. Rumors and plenty of chaos ensued, and sadly house points were lost. Severus became more withdrawn in response to the gossip; he's just trying to lie low.[1] Hermione naturally doesn't care for that at all.
So now she's determined to get the poor man a Christmas present.
Christmas Eve of Adduction... Part 4
-~HG/SS~-
Hogwarts, Saturday 23rd December, Breakfast, Hermione
Hermione wakes with a smile, having dreamt of a certain Potions Master. The feeling is pleasant, as were the dreams. Nothing to be concerned about to be sure, it's all perfectly innocent, although, just to be sure, she finds herself interrogating that statement and those dreams as her conscious mind regains control.
It helps to be certain.
The process of questioning herself dispels the memories of her dreams until all that's left are vague impressions and a very few images. Those last images, now fading rapidly, were of him walking through a landscape of swirling malachite fields dotted with botryoidal bushes, a knot of silver snakes to his feet. The colours were gorgeous and suited him perfectly, in more ways than one, and he seemed at peace in the scene ('but after the events of yesterday afternoon...' that was probably wishful thinking on her part).
She contemplates, as she readies herself for her day, if malachite can be charmed so that its natural whorls could in fact move, for it was a truly stunning effect. With a feeling of satisfaction, she's confident she has the basis for a good idea for a present for Severus.
His hair is longer these days than how he wore it while she was a student, and he ties it back regularly when brewing. She thinks an elegant silver and malachite hair fastener would look good with his coloring, in addition to reflecting his house, and the mineral, though quite attractive, certainly isn't too dear as to seem inappropriate. When she's in Hogsmeade this afternoon, she will stop by the jeweler's near the quill and parchment shop, and she has plenty of time still to research charming the stone, or perhaps she'll ask Filius for a suggestion at breakfast.
As she approaches the Great Hall, she considers that the curtailed menu, a part of her house elf meal scheme that Minerva was kind enough to sanction, should be far more evident at breakfast than it would have been at dinner last night. With the excitement of the day, she feels certain the meal changes had gone largely unnoticed anyway yesterday. Although generally not faint-hearted [2], she's a bit nervous, a touch apprehensive about the student response, and now that she thinks about it, realizes somewhat belatedly that Minerva's breakfast should be rather greatly impacted, her tastes perhaps more divergent than most. Hermione can't help appreciating how fortunate she is to work for someone who encourages such experiments.
Of course this also means this is her first breakfast without her café au lait. She sighs just thinking about it, sliding into the seat next to Severus with a (still!) chipper "good morning, Professor," and an incredibly warm smile. She's reasonably convinced that she can avoid any caffeine withdrawal or attendant mood swings with potions if need arises (she's a witch after all), but firmly doubts it will be necessary.
Severus, for his part, is staring at his morning cuppa with an expression so grim as to inspire trepidation in lesser beings, or the student body, whichever. It's far too soon for withdrawal to have set in, and surely that's a non-issue for a Potions Master anyway, but she suspects he finds the brew on offer doesn't measure up in the least to his usual... ('caffeinated sludge') tea. And with the realization that this is her second colleague her experiment seems to be affecting negatively, Hermione shifts a bit uncomfortably in her seat.
She helps herself to a regular coffee, but after a sip she reflexively screws up her face and pushes it from her, desperately missing her foamed milk. Severus seems to have noticed this, or maybe the timing is just coincidence, but suddenly he's smirking and his glance keeps darting at her sideways. She's happy for the interaction ('although that might be overstating things'), but is pleased if it means he's not completely ignoring her anymore, as he had done at dinner the evening before. Still glowering occasionally at his ersatz tea, mostly between sips, Severus settles in with the cryptic crossword from the Prophet, his disgruntlement made audible as he effectively etches answers into the paper.
Minerva, seated in the middle of their table to Hermione's right, leans forward and attracts his attention, reminding him that she and Filius will be at the Ministry's Yule Ball this evening, and that Severus as Deputy Headmaster will be in charge. Helga having not been part of the battle of Hogwarts, and because they're short staffed, won't be attending the affair either. ('She doesn't seem disappointed in the least.') Severus hadn't forgotten, as much as he'd probably like to, the mere mention of the ball seeming to worsen his mood ('judging by the depth his quill now sinks into the paper'). Or perhaps, Hermione can't help worrying, it's the idea of sharing the meal with only Helga as a buffer between them, as Sybill per usual hasn't put in an appearance since the term break began ('not that she was around much before that'), and Poppy's been busy elsewhere.
There's still a great deal of unusual commotion amongst the students, and she isn't sure if that's a carryover from whatever was going on yesterday, a result of the limited breakfast selection ('please, no'), or something new altogether ('same old, same old'). Minerva seems to have noticed this as well, and stands to make an announcement about the house elf initiative and the changes that it will mean, at least in the short term. Not once does she mention this is Hermione's idea ('fault'). Severus knowing he's ultimately to blame for this smirks again, but Hermione thinks it's because he knows Minerva has covered for her. Instead of pointing fingers ('or wands'), Minerva introduces the new menus, which flutter down at each place setting, and explains that it's to do with how the elves' magic works, and offers extra house points to any students willing to write several inches, increasing by year of study, on why that should be the case.
That was brilliant, really, given Hermione still doesn't fully understand the nuances, and Minerva considered once or twice giving the young Professor the same assignment, but couldn't think how to politely suggest it. Instead, she plans on soliciting Hermione's assistance in marking the parchments, and hopes they will provide sufficient information and viewpoints to change her opinion. And with a bit of luck, this will stave off any S.P.E.W.-like movements on the students' parts in the near future.
Several industrious Ravenclaws, eager to make up for points lost in yesterday's fracas with the Gryffindors, start writing owls to their housemates currently home for the holidays to convince them to capitalize on this opportunity. The Slytherins seem satisfied that this should be easy, the lot of them having grown up with elves in their households, and it is quickly decided that all shall complete the, theoretically voluntary, assignment, including those still lounging about none the wiser in their beds. They are well aware that even if every Slytherin earns those points, due to their diminished numbers, there are still fewer points to be gained than if only some of the Ravenclaws participate. This side of never, not one of them would point that out to the faculty. The assumption on easily half their parts is that this is a deliberate choice anyway.
By contrast, the Hufflepuffs show mixed reactions, most are pleased at this chance to win points, but nevertheless understanding of their housemates who just want to enjoy the holidays. The Gryffindors simply groan as one, having lost the most points yesterday and therefore most keenly feeling the need to complete the challenge, but also being the least studious and amongst the least likely to have previous experience with the elves from home. Hermione admires, not for the first time, how Minerva is able to encourage scholastic activity on the students' part outside of the usual classroom setting. (Overall OWL and NEWT results are noticeably improved since she took over the reins, 'although the benefits of the absence of a war shouldn't be underestimated.')
Hermione leans back in her seat, watching the various responses so characteristic of the houses. Not for the first time, she wonders how she was sorted into Gryffindor, as did most of her colleagues over the years. Meanwhile, knowing what she's seeking, she is able to catch the faint hint of bergamot on Severus. It's unobtrusive, but delicious. Her eyes flutter shut, and she once again finds herself trying to inhale it as deeply as possible without attracting attention. This only succeeds in reinforcing his opinion that she has the sniffles, and that her Warming Charms are rubbish. His impression is naturally skewed, as she only does this in his presence, but he in turn can only observe her when he's present. Inspired by the scent, she consults the new menu and asks for a cup of tea, Earl Grey. Hot.
Clutching the mug in both hands as she draws it closer for a sip, she inhales deeply, happily, and completely inconspicuously (it's her own tea for goodness sake) because this is the scent she wanted... Except she suddenly realizes that it actually isn't. Something is missing, and with a slightly uncomfortable feeling settling in the pit of her stomach, suspiciously akin to the beginnings of apprehension, she consults the menu again before ordering a second, different cup of tea, a Lady Earl Grey.
It's only a moment or two later that she confirms this is exactly the scent she was after. And pausing to consider its citrusy bergamot notes realizes with some embarrassment that it's the scent of her hair after she had held Severus the other night, the scent that accompanied her on Yule into the best night's sleep she's had in ages. The blend of their scents.
Swallowing hard and reddening deeply, she can't help wondering if she needs to reevaluate her assessment of last night's dreams.
She feels vaguely guilty and exposed as she drinks her tea, unsure if she should enjoy it, or who will notice it, and it's silly, really, for who would think anything of it? It's just a cup of tea, yet it feels like a guilty pleasure and something furtive and she finds, once she's comfortable that she's escaped discovery, that she's enjoying that secret, and smiles into her mug once more. The apples of her cheeks clearly visible above the rim of her mug and her delicate hands grasping it, that's not nearly as effective a cover as she believes.
Breakfast continues without incident. Hermione's liquid secret goes largely unnoted, or at least unappreciated for what it is, the students seem to have learned their lessons from the events of yesterday, and all is calm. By the end of the meal, she has a new beverage of choice.
Eager for Severus not to overhear any discussion of charms for mineral surfaces, partly because she doesn't want to give him any hints, but also because she doesn't want him to retroactively deduce that she's only now planning his present, she waits until Filius has completed his meal and stands to leave before leaping to join him to ask her questions. By the time they exit the Hall, they are already deep in whispered discussion on the matter, an exercise he finds quite intriguing. Filius, encouraging as usual, does indeed have a tome he's pleased to lend her that should provide some helpful answers, and so she accompanies him to his chambers to retrieve it.
Having left breakfast a bit earlier than usual, Hermione misses an owl that swoops in searching for her, before heading off again to try its luck finding her elsewhere.
Notes:
Next Chapter:
The owl catches up to Hermione, she throws a wobbly, lunch is eaten, shopping happens, and someone tries their hand at a spot of B&E. Forsooth!
WARNING:
Potter bashing shall occur, and I think the only Weasley left unscathed-ish is Arthur. That could get ugly. Who'm I kidding, I hate dissension.
Quotes and such:
[1] "lie low" Although there are many variants of this phrase to be found dating back to the 13th century, Shakespeare used it in its present form in "Much Ado About Nothing," Act V, Scene 1, Antonio: If he could right himself with quarreling, Some of us would lie low.
[2] "faint-hearted" This is another one of those phrases Shakespeare gets credited with, perhaps unjustly. The absolutely marvelous http://www.phrases.org.uk found a much older instance of the phrase in print in the first English-Latin dictionary "The Promptorium Parvulorum," circa 1440: "Feynt hertyd, vecors."
But the modern usage is credited to Shakespeare and occurs in the following works:
"Henry VI," Part I, Act I, Scene 3, Duke of Gloucester:
Faint-hearted Woodvile, prizest him 'fore me?
"Henry VI," Part III, Act I, Scene 1, Earl of Westmoreland: Farewell, faint-hearted and degenerate king,
In whose cold blood no spark of honour bides.
And "Titus Andronicus," but I'm not quoting that bit. (By and large I prefer to pretend it was never written. That's working rather well for me.)
Hermione dreams up a present for Severus. Hogwarts survives its first pared-down breakfast, and tea of varying qualities is drunk with a variety of results, possibly including blushing.
Originally Published: 2017-02-10 on AO3
Chapter: 10 / 13 of ?
Pairing: Hermione Granger / Severus Snape
Disclaimer:
JKR owns the lot. I own bugger all, and shan't profit in the least. Except for kudos and comments, both of which are lovely and appreciated. (*nudge nudge, wink wink*)
Previously:
Severus and Hermione ran into each other in the Forbidden Forest and talked and laughed. Swept up in the moment, Hermione even gave the stunned Potions Master a hug. He survived, but only just.
Some Hufflepuffs saw the Potions Master laughing and spread the word. Rumors and plenty of chaos ensued, and sadly house points were lost. Severus became more withdrawn in response to the gossip; he's just trying to lie low.[1] Hermione naturally doesn't care for that at all.
So now she's determined to get the poor man a Christmas present.
Christmas Eve of Adduction... Part 4
-~HG/SS~-
Hogwarts, Saturday 23rd December, Breakfast, Hermione
Hermione wakes with a smile, having dreamt of a certain Potions Master. The feeling is pleasant, as were the dreams. Nothing to be concerned about to be sure, it's all perfectly innocent, although, just to be sure, she finds herself interrogating that statement and those dreams as her conscious mind regains control.
It helps to be certain.
The process of questioning herself dispels the memories of her dreams until all that's left are vague impressions and a very few images. Those last images, now fading rapidly, were of him walking through a landscape of swirling malachite fields dotted with botryoidal bushes, a knot of silver snakes to his feet. The colours were gorgeous and suited him perfectly, in more ways than one, and he seemed at peace in the scene ('but after the events of yesterday afternoon...' that was probably wishful thinking on her part).
She contemplates, as she readies herself for her day, if malachite can be charmed so that its natural whorls could in fact move, for it was a truly stunning effect. With a feeling of satisfaction, she's confident she has the basis for a good idea for a present for Severus.
His hair is longer these days than how he wore it while she was a student, and he ties it back regularly when brewing. She thinks an elegant silver and malachite hair fastener would look good with his coloring, in addition to reflecting his house, and the mineral, though quite attractive, certainly isn't too dear as to seem inappropriate. When she's in Hogsmeade this afternoon, she will stop by the jeweler's near the quill and parchment shop, and she has plenty of time still to research charming the stone, or perhaps she'll ask Filius for a suggestion at breakfast.
As she approaches the Great Hall, she considers that the curtailed menu, a part of her house elf meal scheme that Minerva was kind enough to sanction, should be far more evident at breakfast than it would have been at dinner last night. With the excitement of the day, she feels certain the meal changes had gone largely unnoticed anyway yesterday. Although generally not faint-hearted [2], she's a bit nervous, a touch apprehensive about the student response, and now that she thinks about it, realizes somewhat belatedly that Minerva's breakfast should be rather greatly impacted, her tastes perhaps more divergent than most. Hermione can't help appreciating how fortunate she is to work for someone who encourages such experiments.
Of course this also means this is her first breakfast without her café au lait. She sighs just thinking about it, sliding into the seat next to Severus with a (still!) chipper "good morning, Professor," and an incredibly warm smile. She's reasonably convinced that she can avoid any caffeine withdrawal or attendant mood swings with potions if need arises (she's a witch after all), but firmly doubts it will be necessary.
Severus, for his part, is staring at his morning cuppa with an expression so grim as to inspire trepidation in lesser beings, or the student body, whichever. It's far too soon for withdrawal to have set in, and surely that's a non-issue for a Potions Master anyway, but she suspects he finds the brew on offer doesn't measure up in the least to his usual... ('caffeinated sludge') tea. And with the realization that this is her second colleague her experiment seems to be affecting negatively, Hermione shifts a bit uncomfortably in her seat.
She helps herself to a regular coffee, but after a sip she reflexively screws up her face and pushes it from her, desperately missing her foamed milk. Severus seems to have noticed this, or maybe the timing is just coincidence, but suddenly he's smirking and his glance keeps darting at her sideways. She's happy for the interaction ('although that might be overstating things'), but is pleased if it means he's not completely ignoring her anymore, as he had done at dinner the evening before. Still glowering occasionally at his ersatz tea, mostly between sips, Severus settles in with the cryptic crossword from the Prophet, his disgruntlement made audible as he effectively etches answers into the paper.
Minerva, seated in the middle of their table to Hermione's right, leans forward and attracts his attention, reminding him that she and Filius will be at the Ministry's Yule Ball this evening, and that Severus as Deputy Headmaster will be in charge. Helga having not been part of the battle of Hogwarts, and because they're short staffed, won't be attending the affair either. ('She doesn't seem disappointed in the least.') Severus hadn't forgotten, as much as he'd probably like to, the mere mention of the ball seeming to worsen his mood ('judging by the depth his quill now sinks into the paper'). Or perhaps, Hermione can't help worrying, it's the idea of sharing the meal with only Helga as a buffer between them, as Sybill per usual hasn't put in an appearance since the term break began ('not that she was around much before that'), and Poppy's been busy elsewhere.
There's still a great deal of unusual commotion amongst the students, and she isn't sure if that's a carryover from whatever was going on yesterday, a result of the limited breakfast selection ('please, no'), or something new altogether ('same old, same old'). Minerva seems to have noticed this as well, and stands to make an announcement about the house elf initiative and the changes that it will mean, at least in the short term. Not once does she mention this is Hermione's idea ('fault'). Severus knowing he's ultimately to blame for this smirks again, but Hermione thinks it's because he knows Minerva has covered for her. Instead of pointing fingers ('or wands'), Minerva introduces the new menus, which flutter down at each place setting, and explains that it's to do with how the elves' magic works, and offers extra house points to any students willing to write several inches, increasing by year of study, on why that should be the case.
That was brilliant, really, given Hermione still doesn't fully understand the nuances, and Minerva considered once or twice giving the young Professor the same assignment, but couldn't think how to politely suggest it. Instead, she plans on soliciting Hermione's assistance in marking the parchments, and hopes they will provide sufficient information and viewpoints to change her opinion. And with a bit of luck, this will stave off any S.P.E.W.-like movements on the students' parts in the near future.
Several industrious Ravenclaws, eager to make up for points lost in yesterday's fracas with the Gryffindors, start writing owls to their housemates currently home for the holidays to convince them to capitalize on this opportunity. The Slytherins seem satisfied that this should be easy, the lot of them having grown up with elves in their households, and it is quickly decided that all shall complete the, theoretically voluntary, assignment, including those still lounging about none the wiser in their beds. They are well aware that even if every Slytherin earns those points, due to their diminished numbers, there are still fewer points to be gained than if only some of the Ravenclaws participate. This side of never, not one of them would point that out to the faculty. The assumption on easily half their parts is that this is a deliberate choice anyway.
By contrast, the Hufflepuffs show mixed reactions, most are pleased at this chance to win points, but nevertheless understanding of their housemates who just want to enjoy the holidays. The Gryffindors simply groan as one, having lost the most points yesterday and therefore most keenly feeling the need to complete the challenge, but also being the least studious and amongst the least likely to have previous experience with the elves from home. Hermione admires, not for the first time, how Minerva is able to encourage scholastic activity on the students' part outside of the usual classroom setting. (Overall OWL and NEWT results are noticeably improved since she took over the reins, 'although the benefits of the absence of a war shouldn't be underestimated.')
Hermione leans back in her seat, watching the various responses so characteristic of the houses. Not for the first time, she wonders how she was sorted into Gryffindor, as did most of her colleagues over the years. Meanwhile, knowing what she's seeking, she is able to catch the faint hint of bergamot on Severus. It's unobtrusive, but delicious. Her eyes flutter shut, and she once again finds herself trying to inhale it as deeply as possible without attracting attention. This only succeeds in reinforcing his opinion that she has the sniffles, and that her Warming Charms are rubbish. His impression is naturally skewed, as she only does this in his presence, but he in turn can only observe her when he's present. Inspired by the scent, she consults the new menu and asks for a cup of tea, Earl Grey. Hot.
Clutching the mug in both hands as she draws it closer for a sip, she inhales deeply, happily, and completely inconspicuously (it's her own tea for goodness sake) because this is the scent she wanted... Except she suddenly realizes that it actually isn't. Something is missing, and with a slightly uncomfortable feeling settling in the pit of her stomach, suspiciously akin to the beginnings of apprehension, she consults the menu again before ordering a second, different cup of tea, a Lady Earl Grey.
It's only a moment or two later that she confirms this is exactly the scent she was after. And pausing to consider its citrusy bergamot notes realizes with some embarrassment that it's the scent of her hair after she had held Severus the other night, the scent that accompanied her on Yule into the best night's sleep she's had in ages. The blend of their scents.
Swallowing hard and reddening deeply, she can't help wondering if she needs to reevaluate her assessment of last night's dreams.
She feels vaguely guilty and exposed as she drinks her tea, unsure if she should enjoy it, or who will notice it, and it's silly, really, for who would think anything of it? It's just a cup of tea, yet it feels like a guilty pleasure and something furtive and she finds, once she's comfortable that she's escaped discovery, that she's enjoying that secret, and smiles into her mug once more. The apples of her cheeks clearly visible above the rim of her mug and her delicate hands grasping it, that's not nearly as effective a cover as she believes.
Breakfast continues without incident. Hermione's liquid secret goes largely unnoted, or at least unappreciated for what it is, the students seem to have learned their lessons from the events of yesterday, and all is calm. By the end of the meal, she has a new beverage of choice.
Eager for Severus not to overhear any discussion of charms for mineral surfaces, partly because she doesn't want to give him any hints, but also because she doesn't want him to retroactively deduce that she's only now planning his present, she waits until Filius has completed his meal and stands to leave before leaping to join him to ask her questions. By the time they exit the Hall, they are already deep in whispered discussion on the matter, an exercise he finds quite intriguing. Filius, encouraging as usual, does indeed have a tome he's pleased to lend her that should provide some helpful answers, and so she accompanies him to his chambers to retrieve it.
Having left breakfast a bit earlier than usual, Hermione misses an owl that swoops in searching for her, before heading off again to try its luck finding her elsewhere.
Notes:
Next Chapter:
The owl catches up to Hermione, she throws a wobbly, lunch is eaten, shopping happens, and someone tries their hand at a spot of B&E. Forsooth!
WARNING:
Potter bashing shall occur, and I think the only Weasley left unscathed-ish is Arthur. That could get ugly. Who'm I kidding, I hate dissension.
Quotes and such:
[1] "lie low" Although there are many variants of this phrase to be found dating back to the 13th century, Shakespeare used it in its present form in "Much Ado About Nothing," Act V, Scene 1, Antonio: If he could right himself with quarreling, Some of us would lie low.
[2] "faint-hearted" This is another one of those phrases Shakespeare gets credited with, perhaps unjustly. The absolutely marvelous http://www.phrases.org.uk found a much older instance of the phrase in print in the first English-Latin dictionary "The Promptorium Parvulorum," circa 1440: "Feynt hertyd, vecors."
But the modern usage is credited to Shakespeare and occurs in the following works:
"Henry VI," Part I, Act I, Scene 3, Duke of Gloucester:
Faint-hearted Woodvile, prizest him 'fore me?
"Henry VI," Part III, Act I, Scene 1, Earl of Westmoreland: Farewell, faint-hearted and degenerate king,
In whose cold blood no spark of honour bides.
And "Titus Andronicus," but I'm not quoting that bit. (By and large I prefer to pretend it was never written. That's working rather well for me.)