What's a Party Without Games?!
Shug's Birthday Edition of the SSHG Quiz
It's Shug's birthday! You've heard the phrase "any excuse for a party," right? Well, at quiz_sshg we believe it should be "any excuse for a quiz!" It's a day of celebration and presents, so this quiz requires you to match the present to the story. We hope Shug gets all the presents her heart desires. Hopefully even a few of the ones mentioned here!
Happy Birthday, Shug!
This quiz is a special SSHG Quiz in honor of sshg316's birthday. All stories feature the pairing of Severus Snape and Hermione Granger. Unlike the usual quizzes at quiz_sshg, the comments are NOT screened. Anyone is free to post answers in their comments, if they like, so please be aware of that. If you read the comments before playing the quiz, you do so at your own risk of being spoiled.
Instant Gratification
Another big difference from the standard quiz_sshg is No Wait Answers! There is a separate answers post following this one. So whenever you are ready to check your answer sheet just hop on over there and see how you did!
Yes, I Really Really Want To See The Quiz Answers Now!
Can you match up the presents with the correct story?
Match the quote to the story title:
Ten Ways to Woo a Witch by stormyskize
An Unreasonable Man by lulabelle72
Send Not to Know by subvers
The Arithmantic Dating Agency by shiv5468
Heart Over Mind by regann
Cake by ayerf (SS/HG/LM)
Dances with Witches by pearle9240 WIP
Treats by dreamy_dragon73 (SS/HG/LM)
Canvas & Paint by warded_portal
A Special Gift by Andrian1
Happy Birthday by shiv5468
Surrender by Dryad
1. Severus had baked Hermione a birthday cake. Lucius had offered to bring one made by his house-elves, privately believing that no better bakers existed. Severus had refused, and blown that belief out of the water. Master of potions though Severus was, if Hermione’s birthday cake was anything to go by, he was born to be a baker. Come to think of it, that revelation might well answer the question of what Severus was doing, as he’d left the employ of Hogwarts after the Dark Lord had his date with destiny. If Severus was still working with potions, he’d missed out on his calling.
Lucius’s mouth watered as he ran his hand over the dented cake tin. Such divine contents…
Moist chocolate sponge, divided into three layers, with rich, smooth dark chocolate sauce holding them together, and the whole unholy mixture topped by thick, creamy chocolate icing. And if that wasn’t temptation enough, the icing was coated by chocolate flakes of every possible shade, spelling out the birthday girl’s name.
And only one slice left …
2. She prodded the box with her wand, and jumped back in shock when it began expanding. Calm down, you silly girl; it’s only a standard shrinking spell. Now fully five times larger, the box was wrapped in paper printed with little red hearts, and was surmounted with an enormous red bow. The bow began to unravel itself, and the sides of the box fell open to reveal the largest box of Honeyduke’s finest chocolate assortment, and a book of poetry.
The card and the paper may be naff, but her secret admirer certainly knew the way to a girl’s heart. She settled back on the cushions, and opened the book to the first page, ah Donne, her favourite. A hand made its way absently to the box of chocolates, and Hermione began to read.
3. The dwarf nodded, ignoring the terseness of his customer. He was well acquainted with men who were unused to letting others see their emotions. They were often the ones who were willing to spend the most in an effort to show what they could not speak. He moved down the row a bit, and pulled out a necklace.
“Dwarves are not magical by nature, Sirrah. But we do have a priest of the order of Ra who often…adds to our designs. Perhaps you will find this acceptable?”
This was a finely wrought gold chain, with a scarab beetle pendant. “Scarabs are the bringers of new life, and protectors of a person’s life force. The priest has imbibed each diamond with a different protection charm. The chain itself has been wrought to never break, and only someone the wearer trusts can remove the necklace from them.”
Severus lifted an eyebrow, suitably impressed, for on the wings of the scarab were dozens of small diamonds, each glittering in the low light of the shop. Hermione was not a silver person, someone who should be wan and understated. She was, after all a Gryffindor, all bluster and bright and …
“I’ll take it.”
4. And then spun on his heel in a lazy pirouette and plucked the phial of perfume off the work bench where it had been cooling. So much for smooth and debonair. "This is for you," he said, handing it to her rather unceremoniously.
Hermione blinked, then grasped the phial firmly. "Er, what is it?" she asked. A potion prepared by Severus was something that shouldn't be handled lightly. "It's very pretty, whatever it is," she added, feeling that she ought to say something nice, just in case.
"It is a scent. For you to wear, should you like it." As he spoke, a frown settled on his features. The thought that she might not like it hadn't really occurred to him before that moment.
Hermione looked at him blankly for a couple of seconds, surprised by the gift. She uncorked the phial, and carefully applied several drops to each wrist in turn. She let the perfume warm on her skin, and then brought it up to her nose. "It's unusual. I like it. It's very kind of you to have made it; thank you."
5. A package was deposited in front of her all wrapped in willow green moiré silk and tied with a thick black ribbon. She opened the card and saw in elegant writing, "To Hermione, with my deepest apologies. S." She leaned forward and glanced down to the other end of the table, where Severus had frozen in place with a coffee cup an inch away from his lips. As she watched, the cup seemed in immediate danger of being smashed to smithereens, though how she knew as he sat unflinching was unclear to her.
With deliberate slowness, she pulled loose the ribbon. The moiré silk shone in the morning sun from the magic sky overhead; it was entrancing. The wrapping itself turned out to be part of the gift, a lightweight scarf.
Which was good, because she was going to need something else to cover herself with if she ever intended to wear the garment inside. Which she didn't intend to do, considering that it could hardly be called a garment at all. After lifting what appeared to be strands of gossamer material in the same color as the scarf and letting it flow through her fingers like finely sifted flour, only softer, she realized she was holding up a negligee in front of the entire Great Hall, fellow faculty members and hundreds of interested teenagers alike.
She hastily wrapped the flimsy thing back in the scarf.
6. It was very special. About two feet high, it consisted of a vine-like plant coiled round a pyramid, and was surmounted by the most bizarre flower he had ever seen. It was black, a true black not the dark red that was so often passed off for black in roses, and had six petals arranged in two triangles set slightly at a different angle. It also had long, black streamers falling from the centre of the flower down to the edge of the pot.
It was the most amazing thing he had ever seen; he was convinced Hermione would adore it.
“Tacca Chantieri,” Sprout said. “It’s very rare. I doubt she’ll ever have seen it before.”
“It’s beautiful,” he said softly, reaching out a finger to stroke on of the soft petals. Sprout blushed as red as if he had called her beautiful. “But if it’s taken you so long to grow, surely you don’t want to give it away from something as trivial as this. There must be other plants, snapdragons perhaps?”
“Don’t be daft, boy, there’s nothing trivial about love. Anyway it’s growing them that’s the challenge,” she said gruffly.
“You’re a terrible liar,” he said, “but thank you. Hermione will be very impressed. I’ll be sure to mention you grew it.”
There was a glint in Sprout’s eye as she added, “You might change your mind about sending it though when I tell you its nickname.”
“I’m listening.”
“The bat plant.”
7. Hermione warily continued reading the rest of the letter.
‘Enclosed in the box you will find a crystal, only it really isn’t a crystal. It’s kind of hard to explain, but it’s a little creation of mine I call a ‘Waterwonker’.
Here’s how it works. First you need to find a place where you will not be interrupted for about an hour. Trust me. Open the box and hold the waterwonker in your hand until it warms and turns pink. Then place it in a saucer or cup and cover it with warm water. Be sure to set it on the floor. It takes about two minutes and there you have it. The waterwonker will appear as the person you most desire in your deepest fantasies.
8. When she lifted the lid completely, Snape watched as wonder filled her face; he was infected with a giddy elation out of proportion to the situation.
“Severus - they’re beautiful,” she breathed reverently, running her fingertips over the hand-carved chess pieces, fashioned like faerie-tale creatures. She looked up into his face. “Are these yours?”
Solemnly, he moved his head in the negative. “They’re yours,” he answered.
She hesitated for a moment. “I don’t play very well,” she confided.
“So I’ve heard,” he answered, letting a sliver of amusement tinge his tone. “I could help you with that.”
True excitement lit her features. “You would teach me to play better?”
“I would certainly endeavour to do so,” he replied and was astonished when she slipped the box onto the floor and threw her arms about his neck.
“I can’t believe you gave me your own chess set,” she whispered; she was so close to him that he felt the movement of her lips on his ear. “Thank you.”
9. He watched as she opened the black case without ceremony. His breath caught in his throat as he viewed the contents.
The case was lined in black velvet. A silver chain stretched from edge to edge. A pendant, about three and a half centimeters long, dangled from the chain, against the velvet. It was the pendant that captured Severus's attention. A silver leaf, veins lightly washed with gold, dangled from the silver chain. A small emerald, set near the bottom, just to the side of the main vein, caught the light in the store and reflected it back again. The leaf was crinkled, much the same as a real leaf would be.
It was exactly what he was looking for. While he could not stomach the thought of buying Hermione something Gryffindor red, the yellow gold was…tolerable. The emerald, however, was a nice touch, he thought. A leaf was something different, something she probably would not have bought for herself.
The witch smiled at him. “May I assume this meets with your approval, sir?”
10. 'Didn't you mention something about wanting to see the Peter Doig at the Tate?'
'You'd spend your day watching, how did you call it - pointless heaps of colour because painters ran out of ideas once the Muggle world discovered photography?' Hermione teased, slowly stroking her thumb over the nape of his neck.
Severus cast her a long-suffering look. 'This one at least paints something you can recognise, and since it makes you happy.'
Hermione had known for a while that he was neither as uninterested nor as ignorant of contemporary Muggle art as he pretended to be, but knew better than to tell him that. Instead she smiled. 'The things you do for me. Any more plans?'
'A light lunch, and in the afternoon, I've made arrangements for you to see M. Beaupied's newest shoe collection.'
11.“What did the flowers mean? I’d really like to know.”
“I didn’t think I’d have to explain the meanings to you. I was trying to be … subtle.”
Hermione smiled. “Please?”
Severus looked at her lying back on his couch, still weak from the bout of sickness that he had caused. He supposed that since she’d nearly suffocated because of the ‘message’ he’d sent her, she had a right to at least know what he’d been trying to tell her.
“The fern stands for magic and fascination,” he said. “The gladioli were meant to tell you that I am sincere. The blue salvia means that I’m thinking of you, and the peach-coloured rose asks that we get together.”
“You left out the red camellias,” Hermione said. “What do they stand for?”
Severus was sure that he was the one blushing now.
So much for subtlety, he thought. He drew a deep breath and let it out slowly before he spoke.
“The red camellias mean that you have ignited my passion,” he said.
12. It was the last package, long but narrow, which confused Hermione as she reached to open it. Underneath the wrapping was a plain black box, which she quickly tried to open, curiosity piqued as she fumbled in her haste. After a moment of struggle, she was embarrassed to realize that the box did not open as she suspected; instead she sat the box flat on the floor, then lifted the whole entire cube away from the base. As she did so, something iridescent became visible, earning appreciative ‘ooohs’ and ‘aaahs’ from her relatives who watched her actions. Hermione also gasped when she saw what was now revealed, her astonishment so acute that she merely stared at the small statue, hesitantly running a finger along the sleek draped skirt. In the light of the morning, the pearlescent glow of the statue glimmered like liquid rainbow, her delicate hands supporting the softly molded orb of gold, each detail masterly represented.
“How lovely,” exclaimed her grandmother. “Whoever sent you that, Hermione?”
Although she did not answer her grandmother’s question, she knew its answer, as impossible as it seemed. She collected the slip of parchment which had fallen from the box’s confines, reading the sparse lines penned elegantly with a deliberate slowness which was at odds with the quickening of her pulse, a warmth spreading over her as she read his words.
It's Shug's birthday! You've heard the phrase "any excuse for a party," right? Well, at quiz_sshg we believe it should be "any excuse for a quiz!" It's a day of celebration and presents, so this quiz requires you to match the present to the story. We hope Shug gets all the presents her heart desires. Hopefully even a few of the ones mentioned here!
Happy Birthday, Shug!
This quiz is a special SSHG Quiz in honor of sshg316's birthday. All stories feature the pairing of Severus Snape and Hermione Granger. Unlike the usual quizzes at quiz_sshg, the comments are NOT screened. Anyone is free to post answers in their comments, if they like, so please be aware of that. If you read the comments before playing the quiz, you do so at your own risk of being spoiled.
Instant Gratification
Another big difference from the standard quiz_sshg is No Wait Answers! There is a separate answers post following this one. So whenever you are ready to check your answer sheet just hop on over there and see how you did!
Yes, I Really Really Want To See The Quiz Answers Now!
Can you match up the presents with the correct story?
Match the quote to the story title:
Ten Ways to Woo a Witch by stormyskize
An Unreasonable Man by lulabelle72
Send Not to Know by subvers
The Arithmantic Dating Agency by shiv5468
Heart Over Mind by regann
Cake by ayerf (SS/HG/LM)
Dances with Witches by pearle9240 WIP
Treats by dreamy_dragon73 (SS/HG/LM)
Canvas & Paint by warded_portal
A Special Gift by Andrian1
Happy Birthday by shiv5468
Surrender by Dryad
1. Severus had baked Hermione a birthday cake. Lucius had offered to bring one made by his house-elves, privately believing that no better bakers existed. Severus had refused, and blown that belief out of the water. Master of potions though Severus was, if Hermione’s birthday cake was anything to go by, he was born to be a baker. Come to think of it, that revelation might well answer the question of what Severus was doing, as he’d left the employ of Hogwarts after the Dark Lord had his date with destiny. If Severus was still working with potions, he’d missed out on his calling.
Lucius’s mouth watered as he ran his hand over the dented cake tin. Such divine contents…
Moist chocolate sponge, divided into three layers, with rich, smooth dark chocolate sauce holding them together, and the whole unholy mixture topped by thick, creamy chocolate icing. And if that wasn’t temptation enough, the icing was coated by chocolate flakes of every possible shade, spelling out the birthday girl’s name.
And only one slice left …
2. She prodded the box with her wand, and jumped back in shock when it began expanding. Calm down, you silly girl; it’s only a standard shrinking spell. Now fully five times larger, the box was wrapped in paper printed with little red hearts, and was surmounted with an enormous red bow. The bow began to unravel itself, and the sides of the box fell open to reveal the largest box of Honeyduke’s finest chocolate assortment, and a book of poetry.
The card and the paper may be naff, but her secret admirer certainly knew the way to a girl’s heart. She settled back on the cushions, and opened the book to the first page, ah Donne, her favourite. A hand made its way absently to the box of chocolates, and Hermione began to read.
3. The dwarf nodded, ignoring the terseness of his customer. He was well acquainted with men who were unused to letting others see their emotions. They were often the ones who were willing to spend the most in an effort to show what they could not speak. He moved down the row a bit, and pulled out a necklace.
“Dwarves are not magical by nature, Sirrah. But we do have a priest of the order of Ra who often…adds to our designs. Perhaps you will find this acceptable?”
This was a finely wrought gold chain, with a scarab beetle pendant. “Scarabs are the bringers of new life, and protectors of a person’s life force. The priest has imbibed each diamond with a different protection charm. The chain itself has been wrought to never break, and only someone the wearer trusts can remove the necklace from them.”
Severus lifted an eyebrow, suitably impressed, for on the wings of the scarab were dozens of small diamonds, each glittering in the low light of the shop. Hermione was not a silver person, someone who should be wan and understated. She was, after all a Gryffindor, all bluster and bright and …
“I’ll take it.”
4. And then spun on his heel in a lazy pirouette and plucked the phial of perfume off the work bench where it had been cooling. So much for smooth and debonair. "This is for you," he said, handing it to her rather unceremoniously.
Hermione blinked, then grasped the phial firmly. "Er, what is it?" she asked. A potion prepared by Severus was something that shouldn't be handled lightly. "It's very pretty, whatever it is," she added, feeling that she ought to say something nice, just in case.
"It is a scent. For you to wear, should you like it." As he spoke, a frown settled on his features. The thought that she might not like it hadn't really occurred to him before that moment.
Hermione looked at him blankly for a couple of seconds, surprised by the gift. She uncorked the phial, and carefully applied several drops to each wrist in turn. She let the perfume warm on her skin, and then brought it up to her nose. "It's unusual. I like it. It's very kind of you to have made it; thank you."
5. A package was deposited in front of her all wrapped in willow green moiré silk and tied with a thick black ribbon. She opened the card and saw in elegant writing, "To Hermione, with my deepest apologies. S." She leaned forward and glanced down to the other end of the table, where Severus had frozen in place with a coffee cup an inch away from his lips. As she watched, the cup seemed in immediate danger of being smashed to smithereens, though how she knew as he sat unflinching was unclear to her.
With deliberate slowness, she pulled loose the ribbon. The moiré silk shone in the morning sun from the magic sky overhead; it was entrancing. The wrapping itself turned out to be part of the gift, a lightweight scarf.
Which was good, because she was going to need something else to cover herself with if she ever intended to wear the garment inside. Which she didn't intend to do, considering that it could hardly be called a garment at all. After lifting what appeared to be strands of gossamer material in the same color as the scarf and letting it flow through her fingers like finely sifted flour, only softer, she realized she was holding up a negligee in front of the entire Great Hall, fellow faculty members and hundreds of interested teenagers alike.
She hastily wrapped the flimsy thing back in the scarf.
6. It was very special. About two feet high, it consisted of a vine-like plant coiled round a pyramid, and was surmounted by the most bizarre flower he had ever seen. It was black, a true black not the dark red that was so often passed off for black in roses, and had six petals arranged in two triangles set slightly at a different angle. It also had long, black streamers falling from the centre of the flower down to the edge of the pot.
It was the most amazing thing he had ever seen; he was convinced Hermione would adore it.
“Tacca Chantieri,” Sprout said. “It’s very rare. I doubt she’ll ever have seen it before.”
“It’s beautiful,” he said softly, reaching out a finger to stroke on of the soft petals. Sprout blushed as red as if he had called her beautiful. “But if it’s taken you so long to grow, surely you don’t want to give it away from something as trivial as this. There must be other plants, snapdragons perhaps?”
“Don’t be daft, boy, there’s nothing trivial about love. Anyway it’s growing them that’s the challenge,” she said gruffly.
“You’re a terrible liar,” he said, “but thank you. Hermione will be very impressed. I’ll be sure to mention you grew it.”
There was a glint in Sprout’s eye as she added, “You might change your mind about sending it though when I tell you its nickname.”
“I’m listening.”
“The bat plant.”
7. Hermione warily continued reading the rest of the letter.
‘Enclosed in the box you will find a crystal, only it really isn’t a crystal. It’s kind of hard to explain, but it’s a little creation of mine I call a ‘Waterwonker’.
Here’s how it works. First you need to find a place where you will not be interrupted for about an hour. Trust me. Open the box and hold the waterwonker in your hand until it warms and turns pink. Then place it in a saucer or cup and cover it with warm water. Be sure to set it on the floor. It takes about two minutes and there you have it. The waterwonker will appear as the person you most desire in your deepest fantasies.
8. When she lifted the lid completely, Snape watched as wonder filled her face; he was infected with a giddy elation out of proportion to the situation.
“Severus - they’re beautiful,” she breathed reverently, running her fingertips over the hand-carved chess pieces, fashioned like faerie-tale creatures. She looked up into his face. “Are these yours?”
Solemnly, he moved his head in the negative. “They’re yours,” he answered.
She hesitated for a moment. “I don’t play very well,” she confided.
“So I’ve heard,” he answered, letting a sliver of amusement tinge his tone. “I could help you with that.”
True excitement lit her features. “You would teach me to play better?”
“I would certainly endeavour to do so,” he replied and was astonished when she slipped the box onto the floor and threw her arms about his neck.
“I can’t believe you gave me your own chess set,” she whispered; she was so close to him that he felt the movement of her lips on his ear. “Thank you.”
9. He watched as she opened the black case without ceremony. His breath caught in his throat as he viewed the contents.
The case was lined in black velvet. A silver chain stretched from edge to edge. A pendant, about three and a half centimeters long, dangled from the chain, against the velvet. It was the pendant that captured Severus's attention. A silver leaf, veins lightly washed with gold, dangled from the silver chain. A small emerald, set near the bottom, just to the side of the main vein, caught the light in the store and reflected it back again. The leaf was crinkled, much the same as a real leaf would be.
It was exactly what he was looking for. While he could not stomach the thought of buying Hermione something Gryffindor red, the yellow gold was…tolerable. The emerald, however, was a nice touch, he thought. A leaf was something different, something she probably would not have bought for herself.
The witch smiled at him. “May I assume this meets with your approval, sir?”
10. 'Didn't you mention something about wanting to see the Peter Doig at the Tate?'
'You'd spend your day watching, how did you call it - pointless heaps of colour because painters ran out of ideas once the Muggle world discovered photography?' Hermione teased, slowly stroking her thumb over the nape of his neck.
Severus cast her a long-suffering look. 'This one at least paints something you can recognise, and since it makes you happy.'
Hermione had known for a while that he was neither as uninterested nor as ignorant of contemporary Muggle art as he pretended to be, but knew better than to tell him that. Instead she smiled. 'The things you do for me. Any more plans?'
'A light lunch, and in the afternoon, I've made arrangements for you to see M. Beaupied's newest shoe collection.'
11.“What did the flowers mean? I’d really like to know.”
“I didn’t think I’d have to explain the meanings to you. I was trying to be … subtle.”
Hermione smiled. “Please?”
Severus looked at her lying back on his couch, still weak from the bout of sickness that he had caused. He supposed that since she’d nearly suffocated because of the ‘message’ he’d sent her, she had a right to at least know what he’d been trying to tell her.
“The fern stands for magic and fascination,” he said. “The gladioli were meant to tell you that I am sincere. The blue salvia means that I’m thinking of you, and the peach-coloured rose asks that we get together.”
“You left out the red camellias,” Hermione said. “What do they stand for?”
Severus was sure that he was the one blushing now.
So much for subtlety, he thought. He drew a deep breath and let it out slowly before he spoke.
“The red camellias mean that you have ignited my passion,” he said.
12. It was the last package, long but narrow, which confused Hermione as she reached to open it. Underneath the wrapping was a plain black box, which she quickly tried to open, curiosity piqued as she fumbled in her haste. After a moment of struggle, she was embarrassed to realize that the box did not open as she suspected; instead she sat the box flat on the floor, then lifted the whole entire cube away from the base. As she did so, something iridescent became visible, earning appreciative ‘ooohs’ and ‘aaahs’ from her relatives who watched her actions. Hermione also gasped when she saw what was now revealed, her astonishment so acute that she merely stared at the small statue, hesitantly running a finger along the sleek draped skirt. In the light of the morning, the pearlescent glow of the statue glimmered like liquid rainbow, her delicate hands supporting the softly molded orb of gold, each detail masterly represented.
“How lovely,” exclaimed her grandmother. “Whoever sent you that, Hermione?”
Although she did not answer her grandmother’s question, she knew its answer, as impossible as it seemed. She collected the slip of parchment which had fallen from the box’s confines, reading the sparse lines penned elegantly with a deliberate slowness which was at odds with the quickening of her pulse, a warmth spreading over her as she read his words.