The Next Step
Title: The Next Step
Team Name: Spying for The Order
Word Count: 100 x 2
Rating: G
Challenge: Decorating Challenge
Characters: Severus, Hermione
Warning: DH spoilers
The Ruse
The footsteps faded. The old shack creaked. Dust settled around him.
With a shuddering breath, he finally blinked his eyes slowly and scrambled in his pocket. Swallowing the bezoar with a second dose of Blood Replenishing Solution, he pressed his other hand to his neck.
Potter still could not Occlude worth a damn. Fortunately he had believed the ruse.
Granger had been a surprise. He’d have expected her to realize his wound was not necessarily mortal. That she had not was both relief and disappointment.
One more thing was needed.
“Fawkes!” he rasped.
Flames. Tears.
Time to rejoin the fight.
~*~
Joining the Fight
Disillusioned, he staggered towards the school, the screams. Chaos came into view just as Longbottom decapitated the unnatural snake.
That boy located his spine at last this year, Snape thought proudly. Took long enough.
Where was Potter? Hagrid was asking the same, if more loudly.
Closer now, he fired off hexes where he saw Order members disadvantaged. Angling behind Bellatrix as she dueled Granger, Lovegood, and the Weasley girl, he was almost hit by one of Molly’s curses when she dove in.
Granger looked straight at him. He held completely still. She nodded and moved on to the next duel.
~*~
Hidden and Sought
Already Disillusioned, Severus pressed himself into a niche, seething at his secrets made public.
“Avada Kedavra!”
“Expelliarmus!”
An explosion. Eerie silence. Victory cries.
It was over. Lily’s boy had survived.
Filch’s cat sniffed his ankle.
“Professor? Is that you?”
Granger squinted at him.
“You won’t go to the hospital wing, will you?”
He didn’t answer.
“If you need anything, use this to contact me. I’m sure you know how.”
She set it on the floor.
“I knew you had to have a plan, Professor. I’m glad it worked.”
When she had gone, he exited to freedom, clutching a single Galleon.
~*~
Moving On
To call the cabin Spartan would be akin to calling Malfoy Manor “sort of fancy.” It served its purpose, no more.
It had been a week. Tomorrow, he should move on.
He drained his tea, cleaned his sole cup, and dressed for bed. Long-familiar wand movements reinforced the Protective Charms, ensuring a safe night’s rest.
Next to his pallet, a small box served as a nightstand. Inside it, the sole decorative item to be found. As each night, he opened the box and stared at the piece of gold for a moment.
He closed the box and went to sleep.
~*~
Months of camping, and suddenly Grimmauld Place seemed luxurious. Kreacher seemed annoyed that she wanted to put the library to rights herself, but she had insisted. He could decorate the rest of the house to his heart’s content. This was her realm.
Carefully passing a cloth over the spine of this shelf’s last book, she noticed it was a grimoire of Dark Potions. Looking at it, she wondered if she should tell Harry.
The Galleon in her pocket had not warmed. He didn’t want to be found. He could be anywhere.
Sighing, she set the book back on the shelf.
~*~
The Next Step
It was lunacy to come here. There was nothing he needed in the departed cur’s house, and it appeared that more than just the Golden Trio were in residence. Lights shone through every window, as though the place were decorated for Christmas; strains of music escaped into the night. No doubt half the Order were there.
What had possessed him? This sanctuary had been closed to him for some time. What he needed was to be further from those who knew him. The Continent?
Fingering the bit of gold in his pocket, he pondered the cost of Muggle plane tickets.
~*~
It was hard to celebrate with so many gone. Kreacher’s decorations seemed garish. Disrespectful. But of course they celebrated. They had won.
Hermione blinked back tears as toasts were made to each of them. George looked more lost and alone than anyone, including his mother.
When Harry made his awkward toast to Snape, she had to bite the inside of her cheek.
If they only knew.
Later, she thought it had to be the effect of the wine and wishful thinking. Just in case, she excused herself to the loo and checked her Galleon.
“Trafalgar Square. Noon, tomorrow.”
She smiled.
Team Name: Spying for The Order
Word Count: 100 x 2
Rating: G
Challenge: Decorating Challenge
Characters: Severus, Hermione
Warning: DH spoilers
The Ruse
The footsteps faded. The old shack creaked. Dust settled around him.
With a shuddering breath, he finally blinked his eyes slowly and scrambled in his pocket. Swallowing the bezoar with a second dose of Blood Replenishing Solution, he pressed his other hand to his neck.
Potter still could not Occlude worth a damn. Fortunately he had believed the ruse.
Granger had been a surprise. He’d have expected her to realize his wound was not necessarily mortal. That she had not was both relief and disappointment.
One more thing was needed.
“Fawkes!” he rasped.
Flames. Tears.
Time to rejoin the fight.
~*~
Joining the Fight
Disillusioned, he staggered towards the school, the screams. Chaos came into view just as Longbottom decapitated the unnatural snake.
That boy located his spine at last this year, Snape thought proudly. Took long enough.
Where was Potter? Hagrid was asking the same, if more loudly.
Closer now, he fired off hexes where he saw Order members disadvantaged. Angling behind Bellatrix as she dueled Granger, Lovegood, and the Weasley girl, he was almost hit by one of Molly’s curses when she dove in.
Granger looked straight at him. He held completely still. She nodded and moved on to the next duel.
~*~
Hidden and Sought
Already Disillusioned, Severus pressed himself into a niche, seething at his secrets made public.
“Avada Kedavra!”
“Expelliarmus!”
An explosion. Eerie silence. Victory cries.
It was over. Lily’s boy had survived.
Filch’s cat sniffed his ankle.
“Professor? Is that you?”
Granger squinted at him.
“You won’t go to the hospital wing, will you?”
He didn’t answer.
“If you need anything, use this to contact me. I’m sure you know how.”
She set it on the floor.
“I knew you had to have a plan, Professor. I’m glad it worked.”
When she had gone, he exited to freedom, clutching a single Galleon.
~*~
Moving On
To call the cabin Spartan would be akin to calling Malfoy Manor “sort of fancy.” It served its purpose, no more.
It had been a week. Tomorrow, he should move on.
He drained his tea, cleaned his sole cup, and dressed for bed. Long-familiar wand movements reinforced the Protective Charms, ensuring a safe night’s rest.
Next to his pallet, a small box served as a nightstand. Inside it, the sole decorative item to be found. As each night, he opened the box and stared at the piece of gold for a moment.
He closed the box and went to sleep.
~*~
Months of camping, and suddenly Grimmauld Place seemed luxurious. Kreacher seemed annoyed that she wanted to put the library to rights herself, but she had insisted. He could decorate the rest of the house to his heart’s content. This was her realm.
Carefully passing a cloth over the spine of this shelf’s last book, she noticed it was a grimoire of Dark Potions. Looking at it, she wondered if she should tell Harry.
The Galleon in her pocket had not warmed. He didn’t want to be found. He could be anywhere.
Sighing, she set the book back on the shelf.
~*~
The Next Step
It was lunacy to come here. There was nothing he needed in the departed cur’s house, and it appeared that more than just the Golden Trio were in residence. Lights shone through every window, as though the place were decorated for Christmas; strains of music escaped into the night. No doubt half the Order were there.
What had possessed him? This sanctuary had been closed to him for some time. What he needed was to be further from those who knew him. The Continent?
Fingering the bit of gold in his pocket, he pondered the cost of Muggle plane tickets.
~*~
It was hard to celebrate with so many gone. Kreacher’s decorations seemed garish. Disrespectful. But of course they celebrated. They had won.
Hermione blinked back tears as toasts were made to each of them. George looked more lost and alone than anyone, including his mother.
When Harry made his awkward toast to Snape, she had to bite the inside of her cheek.
If they only knew.
Later, she thought it had to be the effect of the wine and wishful thinking. Just in case, she excused herself to the loo and checked her Galleon.
“Trafalgar Square. Noon, tomorrow.”
She smiled.