Disclaimer: Harry Potter, his universe and fellow characters belong to
J.K. Rowling, numerous publishers and large corporations. I am
respectfully borrowing their universe, without permission, and to not
represent the aforementioned in any way.
Summary: A distinctly unpoetic Snape/Hermione story. Harry attempts to win the battle single handedly, Hermione takes SPEW up a notch and Ron longs for the old group dynamic. All encounter love (Hermione where she least expects) and eventually rebuild friendshp. Rated R for the purposes of my freedom: There will probably be language and violence and sex as well... depending on my ability to write it.
Author's note: Comments, questions and criticism of all varieties, 'constructive' or not, are welcome and can be sent to: diabolicslugs gmail.com (without the spaces) or posted here. My 'ships' are generally non- negotiable, and the prominent ones in this story are Snape/Hermione, Ron/Luna and Harry/Ginny. I have no beta at the moment but I generally have a competent grasp of the English language, and I am confident at least that this is not unreadable. This is a WIP, sorry.
Heavy Hands
Chapter One: A Wider Alliance
Hermione Granger had taken the Sorting Hat's song in her fifth year at Hogwarts to heart. None of the other students had, in fact, they'd grumbled at similar warnings on the nature of inter-house relationships during their sixth and seventh years as well. As Head Girl Hermione finally felt she had the power to bring about the progress she hadn't managed to affect as a mere Gryffindor Prefect. The position of Head Girl held schoolwide authority, and hers was a schoolwide mission.
Yet two years of maturity and the influence of other agendas had modified her aims to some degree and Hermione's goals were now a bit more ambitious than softening hostilities between Gryffindor and Slytherin and ending the war between Malfoy's gang and her friends. For one thing, Harry Potter himself had managed to rise above that particular clash - and neither of the two groups was now what it had once been. No, peaceful relations at school were not enough. Hermione Granger would, she decided, settle for no smaller goal than improving relations between wizards and all other sentient magical creatures: If students agree to unite in the face of inequality, of this great persecution, the petty squabbles of school rivalries will wither and be forgotten in light of this worthy cause.
Hermione's notions had changed, had perhaps grown somewhat in the two years since the Sorting Hat's first advisory. The ideals had altered, but the idealism and romantic fervor still remained, often eclipsing facts and even common sense.
It was nearly Halloween, and the first Hogsmeade weekend of the year. The sky was a threatening shade of grey, the barren trees loomed lifeless and heavy, and in the distance thunder rolled. High winds pulled through the streets, banging shutters, stealing hairties, and adding to the Halloween atmosphere. The rain held off, and nearly everything proceeded according to Hermione's plan.
"Neville! Fasten that cloth to the table with a sticking spell - those pasties'll sell at a sickle a piece, we don't want to loose any more if we can help it."
Her friend chased after the linen and various baked goods that had been carried off by the wind, and panted, "Yes 'Hr-mi-ne," as he struggled back toward the row of tables. Several house elves helped Neville reset the baked goods booth while Hermione stepped back to proudly observe the result of her work.
The first annual Tricks-and-Treats Magic Alliance Fundraiser had been an easier job to pull off than she'd anticipated. Unlike her previous projects, notably SPEW, she'd had no problems recruiting help. By enlisting the aid of the Weasley twins (who had brilliantly thought to include Peeves) to cover the "Tricks" end of the mini-faire, Hermione had won the support of many of the same students who had once been quite rude to her about SPEW, and of course the house elves were more than happy to bake her all the "Treats" she desired. True, Hagrid's contribution of a five stone trey of his now rather infamous brownies were not an anticipated success, but the joy of participation, she thought, more than made up for it. Plus, Hagrid had been an invaluable help in carrying tables.
The offers of assistance from students had been more than she actually needed, and in the end Hermione was forced to turn away the offers of no less than twelve fellow students, including, to her shock, a pair of second year Slytherins who mistakenly had it on "good authority" that volunteers received free food.
"All done?" asked Hannah as she brushed her hands on her robes and came to stand by Hermione, "Dobby's already sold a cake to Rosmerta and Fred and George are giving demonstrations," her observation was accentuated by a shimmery purple explosion followed by appreciative shrieks and "ooh"s.
Hermione grinned, "yes, we're ready, Neville's sold a pasty or two as well, and the students are set to arrive any time now." The volunteers had received special permission from the Headmaster to leave school an hour early for set up purposes.
As the students arrived, the volunteers pulled back to focus on manning their booths. With so many house elves running wild and students in high spirits due to the holiday and the nature of the faire, Hermione was forced to pay close attention and work hard to keep everyone in line. In a calm moment a few hours in she found an opportunity to speak to Luna, who was totaling up their earnings.
"We've made fantastic progress!" she shouted above the pervasive laughter, "I didn't expect to be so pleased, it's really quite astonishing. Of course, it would have been nice if Ron had been able to convince the Merpeople to contribute – I'd have done it myself but they're ferociously jealous of human females. Oh, and Firenze wouldn't speak to me for a week after I suggested he man a fortune telling booth, but perhaps they'll come around next year when they see our success –"
"HERMIONE!"
"What? Ron?" she whipped around to face the commotion.
"It's Fred and George, the antidote to their skin stretching solvent isn't working on Dennis Creevey and they need you to help put him right... honestly, they insist it's not a big deal but it's really not attractive and customers are getting worried. You should see though, his nose hole's big enough to hit a bludger through – it's wicked!"
"Oh Ron," chided Luna, as the two girls hurried over to assess the damage, Luna unable to suppress her own curiosity. This disaster was followed closely by several others and Hermione ran ragged for the next hour threatening would be bread thieves with lengthy prison sentences and reminding the house elves not to give all the food away for free.
The Three Broomsticks, despite the fact that the fundraiser was undoubtedly detracting from their sales, kindly allowed the Alliance to make use of their kitchens for the use of last minute culinary preparations, the storage of various utensils and dishes, and a place to brew tea. It was for this last purpose that Hermione was making use of the kitchens now. Through the narrow door leading into the dim dining room beyond, a severely slim, black haired figure caught her eye and she dropped the teacup she was filling in shock. It's Harry, just Harry. She cursed her nerves as she arranged the delicate cups in a tipsy yet impressively elegant pyramid and shuddered in spite of her self, in spite of the sadness that threatened to overcome her at the sight of that grim face, still surprising in the mark of a distanced countenance. Hermione squared her shoulders and turned away, feeling suddenly weary and not nearly so accomplished.
More shouts awaited her as she carried the tea trey toward its appropriate booth. She never made it there.
With a crackling bang, which many of the students at first assumed to be thunder, a masked, black clad figure materialized suddenly, nearly on top of Hermione. The man roared and crumpled into a heap; Hermione tripped and sprawled over the top of him, covering the both of them in broken porcelain and scalding tea.
Hermione recovered first. She sprung furiously to her feet and repaired her appearance with a quick cosmetic charm. The tea set was not so lucky, nor was her assailant. The thought occurred to her belatedly that a masked man in black may be dangerous, and she held out her wand as she turned shakily around to face him, "I'd watch where I was apparating if I were you! Those tea treys are big sellers in this weather and you'll be owing a galleon at least, not to mention the service itself which is worth – oh my god Professor, is that you?" she ended incredulously.
The mask, which she suspected had been a Death Eater mask, had been quickly removed and hidden within voluminous black robes. The greasy black hair and the tip of a long nose poking through served as an immediate means of identification.
Hermione spun about in alarm, only to note with relief that her friends were still quite busy. When she looked back Professor Snape was raising himself shakily to his feet, she couldn't tell whether in anger or pain. Probably both.
"I don't give a damn about your circus you stupid girl. Get me back to the castle this instant before you do me further damage."
"But I can't leave the others here alone, they'll blow the place up and the house elves will give away all their merchandise!"
Snape raised his face for the first time, managing to focus all his fury on Hermione, even through a heavily pained and mangled countenance. He straightened with a certain bone crunching dignity. Most of his weight shifted noticeably to the left side. "I think you have your priorities confused yet again Miss Granger. I order you to... escort me... to the castle. This instant."
"Yes of course Professor, but hadn't we better notify one of the chaperones? You look very badly hurt, sir, perhaps Professor Flitwick or Lupin could help... are you in much pain?"
Snape grabbed desperately for Hermione's wand hand and pulled her as best he could toward the direction he intended.
"Don't be foolish, I don't want to be seen. Now hurry damn you before I.... Hurry."
Hermione squared her shoulders, nodded in reply, and with thin lips and an infinite sense of dread moved closer to the battered, hostile, unpleasant man and offered him her physical support. The fact that he accepted solidified her resolve to help him and they set off slowly and as stealthily as possible back toward the school, leaving the fundraiser behind, to Hermione's distress, without the slightest of last minute instructions.
Fifteen minutes later they had barely made it out of the town and back to the main road, thankfully without being confronted, but Hermione was beginning to worry that Snape was perhaps worse off even than she'd first expected, than he'd led her to believe. She ordered him, unthinkingly, to stop so she could take a better inventory, and, though he resented her bossy tones and wouldn't let her check his person too closely, he did allow a few well placed numbing and stabilizing spells, knowing full well that Hermione was more than adept enough at these basic healing procedures. Snape's numbness slowed their progress even further, but at least Hermione no longer feared his immediate demise. Now their only worry was in encountering other students leaving Hogsmeade early which, what with the Halloween celebrations, was hardly a likely eventuality.
A second materialization; this time a smaller, but also black clad figure appeared, without the cracking sound of apparation, a safe distance in front of them. Harry Potter gracefully removed his invisibility cloak and tucked it neatly under his arm, wand at the ready without a fumble or hitch.
"Professor Flitwick has sent a group of Slytherins back with detentions, they'll be upon us within a moment. Professor?" He looked to Snape, who nodded, and Harry swung the cloak over them both without another word.
Snape's disembodied voice floated back to Hermione a few moments later, "Delay them as long as you possibly can Miss Granger, and meet with the Headmaster when you return to the castle."
To be continued...
Summary: A distinctly unpoetic Snape/Hermione story. Harry attempts to win the battle single handedly, Hermione takes SPEW up a notch and Ron longs for the old group dynamic. All encounter love (Hermione where she least expects) and eventually rebuild friendshp. Rated R for the purposes of my freedom: There will probably be language and violence and sex as well... depending on my ability to write it.
Author's note: Comments, questions and criticism of all varieties, 'constructive' or not, are welcome and can be sent to: diabolicslugs gmail.com (without the spaces) or posted here. My 'ships' are generally non- negotiable, and the prominent ones in this story are Snape/Hermione, Ron/Luna and Harry/Ginny. I have no beta at the moment but I generally have a competent grasp of the English language, and I am confident at least that this is not unreadable. This is a WIP, sorry.
Heavy Hands
Chapter One: A Wider Alliance
Hermione Granger had taken the Sorting Hat's song in her fifth year at Hogwarts to heart. None of the other students had, in fact, they'd grumbled at similar warnings on the nature of inter-house relationships during their sixth and seventh years as well. As Head Girl Hermione finally felt she had the power to bring about the progress she hadn't managed to affect as a mere Gryffindor Prefect. The position of Head Girl held schoolwide authority, and hers was a schoolwide mission.
Yet two years of maturity and the influence of other agendas had modified her aims to some degree and Hermione's goals were now a bit more ambitious than softening hostilities between Gryffindor and Slytherin and ending the war between Malfoy's gang and her friends. For one thing, Harry Potter himself had managed to rise above that particular clash - and neither of the two groups was now what it had once been. No, peaceful relations at school were not enough. Hermione Granger would, she decided, settle for no smaller goal than improving relations between wizards and all other sentient magical creatures: If students agree to unite in the face of inequality, of this great persecution, the petty squabbles of school rivalries will wither and be forgotten in light of this worthy cause.
Hermione's notions had changed, had perhaps grown somewhat in the two years since the Sorting Hat's first advisory. The ideals had altered, but the idealism and romantic fervor still remained, often eclipsing facts and even common sense.
It was nearly Halloween, and the first Hogsmeade weekend of the year. The sky was a threatening shade of grey, the barren trees loomed lifeless and heavy, and in the distance thunder rolled. High winds pulled through the streets, banging shutters, stealing hairties, and adding to the Halloween atmosphere. The rain held off, and nearly everything proceeded according to Hermione's plan.
"Neville! Fasten that cloth to the table with a sticking spell - those pasties'll sell at a sickle a piece, we don't want to loose any more if we can help it."
Her friend chased after the linen and various baked goods that had been carried off by the wind, and panted, "Yes 'Hr-mi-ne," as he struggled back toward the row of tables. Several house elves helped Neville reset the baked goods booth while Hermione stepped back to proudly observe the result of her work.
The first annual Tricks-and-Treats Magic Alliance Fundraiser had been an easier job to pull off than she'd anticipated. Unlike her previous projects, notably SPEW, she'd had no problems recruiting help. By enlisting the aid of the Weasley twins (who had brilliantly thought to include Peeves) to cover the "Tricks" end of the mini-faire, Hermione had won the support of many of the same students who had once been quite rude to her about SPEW, and of course the house elves were more than happy to bake her all the "Treats" she desired. True, Hagrid's contribution of a five stone trey of his now rather infamous brownies were not an anticipated success, but the joy of participation, she thought, more than made up for it. Plus, Hagrid had been an invaluable help in carrying tables.
The offers of assistance from students had been more than she actually needed, and in the end Hermione was forced to turn away the offers of no less than twelve fellow students, including, to her shock, a pair of second year Slytherins who mistakenly had it on "good authority" that volunteers received free food.
"All done?" asked Hannah as she brushed her hands on her robes and came to stand by Hermione, "Dobby's already sold a cake to Rosmerta and Fred and George are giving demonstrations," her observation was accentuated by a shimmery purple explosion followed by appreciative shrieks and "ooh"s.
Hermione grinned, "yes, we're ready, Neville's sold a pasty or two as well, and the students are set to arrive any time now." The volunteers had received special permission from the Headmaster to leave school an hour early for set up purposes.
As the students arrived, the volunteers pulled back to focus on manning their booths. With so many house elves running wild and students in high spirits due to the holiday and the nature of the faire, Hermione was forced to pay close attention and work hard to keep everyone in line. In a calm moment a few hours in she found an opportunity to speak to Luna, who was totaling up their earnings.
"We've made fantastic progress!" she shouted above the pervasive laughter, "I didn't expect to be so pleased, it's really quite astonishing. Of course, it would have been nice if Ron had been able to convince the Merpeople to contribute – I'd have done it myself but they're ferociously jealous of human females. Oh, and Firenze wouldn't speak to me for a week after I suggested he man a fortune telling booth, but perhaps they'll come around next year when they see our success –"
"HERMIONE!"
"What? Ron?" she whipped around to face the commotion.
"It's Fred and George, the antidote to their skin stretching solvent isn't working on Dennis Creevey and they need you to help put him right... honestly, they insist it's not a big deal but it's really not attractive and customers are getting worried. You should see though, his nose hole's big enough to hit a bludger through – it's wicked!"
"Oh Ron," chided Luna, as the two girls hurried over to assess the damage, Luna unable to suppress her own curiosity. This disaster was followed closely by several others and Hermione ran ragged for the next hour threatening would be bread thieves with lengthy prison sentences and reminding the house elves not to give all the food away for free.
The Three Broomsticks, despite the fact that the fundraiser was undoubtedly detracting from their sales, kindly allowed the Alliance to make use of their kitchens for the use of last minute culinary preparations, the storage of various utensils and dishes, and a place to brew tea. It was for this last purpose that Hermione was making use of the kitchens now. Through the narrow door leading into the dim dining room beyond, a severely slim, black haired figure caught her eye and she dropped the teacup she was filling in shock. It's Harry, just Harry. She cursed her nerves as she arranged the delicate cups in a tipsy yet impressively elegant pyramid and shuddered in spite of her self, in spite of the sadness that threatened to overcome her at the sight of that grim face, still surprising in the mark of a distanced countenance. Hermione squared her shoulders and turned away, feeling suddenly weary and not nearly so accomplished.
More shouts awaited her as she carried the tea trey toward its appropriate booth. She never made it there.
With a crackling bang, which many of the students at first assumed to be thunder, a masked, black clad figure materialized suddenly, nearly on top of Hermione. The man roared and crumpled into a heap; Hermione tripped and sprawled over the top of him, covering the both of them in broken porcelain and scalding tea.
Hermione recovered first. She sprung furiously to her feet and repaired her appearance with a quick cosmetic charm. The tea set was not so lucky, nor was her assailant. The thought occurred to her belatedly that a masked man in black may be dangerous, and she held out her wand as she turned shakily around to face him, "I'd watch where I was apparating if I were you! Those tea treys are big sellers in this weather and you'll be owing a galleon at least, not to mention the service itself which is worth – oh my god Professor, is that you?" she ended incredulously.
The mask, which she suspected had been a Death Eater mask, had been quickly removed and hidden within voluminous black robes. The greasy black hair and the tip of a long nose poking through served as an immediate means of identification.
Hermione spun about in alarm, only to note with relief that her friends were still quite busy. When she looked back Professor Snape was raising himself shakily to his feet, she couldn't tell whether in anger or pain. Probably both.
"I don't give a damn about your circus you stupid girl. Get me back to the castle this instant before you do me further damage."
"But I can't leave the others here alone, they'll blow the place up and the house elves will give away all their merchandise!"
Snape raised his face for the first time, managing to focus all his fury on Hermione, even through a heavily pained and mangled countenance. He straightened with a certain bone crunching dignity. Most of his weight shifted noticeably to the left side. "I think you have your priorities confused yet again Miss Granger. I order you to... escort me... to the castle. This instant."
"Yes of course Professor, but hadn't we better notify one of the chaperones? You look very badly hurt, sir, perhaps Professor Flitwick or Lupin could help... are you in much pain?"
Snape grabbed desperately for Hermione's wand hand and pulled her as best he could toward the direction he intended.
"Don't be foolish, I don't want to be seen. Now hurry damn you before I.... Hurry."
Hermione squared her shoulders, nodded in reply, and with thin lips and an infinite sense of dread moved closer to the battered, hostile, unpleasant man and offered him her physical support. The fact that he accepted solidified her resolve to help him and they set off slowly and as stealthily as possible back toward the school, leaving the fundraiser behind, to Hermione's distress, without the slightest of last minute instructions.
Fifteen minutes later they had barely made it out of the town and back to the main road, thankfully without being confronted, but Hermione was beginning to worry that Snape was perhaps worse off even than she'd first expected, than he'd led her to believe. She ordered him, unthinkingly, to stop so she could take a better inventory, and, though he resented her bossy tones and wouldn't let her check his person too closely, he did allow a few well placed numbing and stabilizing spells, knowing full well that Hermione was more than adept enough at these basic healing procedures. Snape's numbness slowed their progress even further, but at least Hermione no longer feared his immediate demise. Now their only worry was in encountering other students leaving Hogsmeade early which, what with the Halloween celebrations, was hardly a likely eventuality.
A second materialization; this time a smaller, but also black clad figure appeared, without the cracking sound of apparation, a safe distance in front of them. Harry Potter gracefully removed his invisibility cloak and tucked it neatly under his arm, wand at the ready without a fumble or hitch.
"Professor Flitwick has sent a group of Slytherins back with detentions, they'll be upon us within a moment. Professor?" He looked to Snape, who nodded, and Harry swung the cloak over them both without another word.
Snape's disembodied voice floated back to Hermione a few moments later, "Delay them as long as you possibly can Miss Granger, and meet with the Headmaster when you return to the castle."
To be continued...