30 DAYS, A MARRIAGE
by Lady Memory
Disclaimer:This is a non-profit tribute to the works of J.K. Rowling, who created and, together with her publishers and licensees, owns the characters and settings elaborated herein.
Sunday - Day 1 – Explanations?
Feeling dizzy and immensely sleepy, the girl opened her eyes, blinking in the half-obscurity. She was curled up in a soft but frayed armchair, the dusty smell of which was beginning to irritate her nostrils, and a blanket was wrapped around her body. The room was cold and uninviting: all the furniture she could see was old and worn, and the whole place looked unfamiliar to her.
Rubbing her eyes in confusion, she raised herself on her elbows, suppressing a nervous yawn that was attempting to force its way out. Her back was aching from the cramped position she had slept in, so she cautiously began to stretch her arms. Unexpectedly, a deep, silky voice froze her in her movement, speaking in that hateful tone she had learnt to detest in her school days.
"Awake, Miss Granger?"
Suddenly alarmed, she raised her head and looked at her interlocutor, hoping to be wrong. Unfortunately, she wasn't. Professor Snape was staring at her with his characteristic scowl, and she instinctively retreated into her armchair while he continued in his deceptively caressing tone, "I would never have imagined that you could sleep for such a long time. I would have been spared the worry if I had been aware of the possibility."
Anxiety was filling her eyes, and she looked uncertainly at his towering, somewhat menacing figure.
"What place is this? Why are we here?" she managed to ask, forcing her voice to be firm.
"Respect, young lady!" he replied brusquely. "You won't be entitled to receive any answer unless you pose your questions in the proper manner."
"I'm sorry, Professor," she whispered, feeling oddly reassured at his usual, harsh reaction. "Would you please tell me what place is this and why are we here?"
Words were the same, but tone had changed into deference. He smiled grimly.
"This is a country house, Miss Granger; a safe, isolated country house which has been made Unplottable. No kind of magic – and I absolutely mean NO kind of magic – must be used inside these rooms or the house will immediately become detectable again.
"Why… why are you telling me this?" she gasped, struggling with the effort of keeping her eyes open, feeling exhausted again in spite of her growing anxiety.
"Because this is the place in which you – and unfortunately I with you – are going to spend our future days. We must be very careful that nobody can find it, unless we need them to reach us."
"But what's happening?" she cried with a sudden pang of fear. "Why us?"
Her worried brown eyes again met his dark ones. She swallowed, lowering her head under his cold gaze.
"Please, sir?" she added trembling.
He didn't answer.
"The spell is working well," he instead declared rather incongruously, crossing his arms with a strange smile.
Her head began to swing and she desperately tried to talk, but torpor was enfolding her more and more powerfully. Finally, with a little sigh, she leaned back, closing her eyelids in abandon.
"Good night, Miss Granger," the hateful voice said.