Author's Note: If you're on as a guest, don't ask me a question. It means I can't answer you directly.
Re: she's a witch, can't she just clean it? I don't think that blood cleans out very well – the spells seem to be basic cleansing charms, and given that such things don't wash out easily, it's likely that she'd rather wash them thoroughly at home...especially if she'd been stuck in court and it'd had time to set in. Ugh. *shudders*
In any case - enjoy, folks!
CHAPTER 25
"I didn't know you still got the Prophet," Hermione remarked to her father, leaning over his chair to kiss his cheek.
"Hullo, love! You're early tonight – hullo, Scotty!" Severus inclined his head in greeting, attempting to read the paper over Anthony's shoulder. A headline caught his eye, and he plucked it from him with a scowl, ignoring the other man's indignant squawk. "It's just an article, no need for -"
"Severus?" He ignored her and skimmed the article before throwing it to her, and snarled his way over to the other chair, sitting down heavily.
"Don't plop on the furniture!" Jean called from the next room. "Honestly, Hermione!"
"Sorry," she called back to her mother. Severus would have found amusement in her calmly taking the blame if he wasn't so incensed by the pernicious musings of a two-Knut whore who couldn't keep her tits or quill to herself.
Hermione made a rude noise. "Honestly!"
"I thought it was a lovely article," Anthony said soothingly, retrieving his now-rumpled paper. "I don't take what that twit says with more than a pinch of shite, in any case, so don't get your feathers ruffled."
"You know, I'd thought she'd learned her lesson after her stint in the jar."
"Jar?" Anthony asked, curious. Severus raised an eyebrow, attention caught, especially when she flushed with embarrassment.
"I, um...I may have discovered she was, at the time, an unregistered Animagus, which was how she was writing poisonous false stories about me, and...well... I may have trapped her in an Unbreakable jar for a few weeks."
Severus smirked widely.
"Oh, is that all?" Anthony seemed unconcerned. "Only a few? I saw those stories, love, I would have made it a few months."
"Dad!" Hermione admonished through giggles. She kissed each of them, then left to help her mother with setting the table, shaking her head at the two of them.
"Of course, if there were any truth to rumors," Anthony said warningly, but Severus snorted and shook his head, Summoning paper and pen.
"She is correct in that I have been seen at her place of work," he wrote, mindful to watch his legibility. "She is also correct that I placed items, including sweets, on her desk, and have escorted her from the building on occasion."
The other man nodded. "And the allegations about the upcoming ball being a 'romantic time for heroic lovers to make things official'...?"
"No. I imagine that was meant more for Longbottom and his paramour than for Hermione and myself. However," Severus discreetly flicked his wand. Muffliato. He looked at Anthony before putting pen back to paper. "I do wish to move in that direction, and would like your permission to do so, at my leisure."
Anthony read what he'd written and grinned. "You're a sly bastard, Scotty." He paused, studying him. "There's nothing I could say to threaten you, and I wouldn't want to," he interjected at Severus's scowl. "It's clear that you're both very much smitten with each other, and what losing each other would do to you would be worse than anything I could even hope to do."
Severus inclined his head. Indeed, to lose her would destroy me, he admitted in the privacy of his own mind.
"So, you'll ask her, then?" Anthony sounded hopeful.
"By the new year," Severus wrote, then promptly burned the paper once he'd read it. It was only April, after all, and there were several questions that needed answering.
"Bastard," Anthony told him with a grin. "Welcome to the family, Scotty."
Severus couldn't sleep that night; he'd taken an enormous risk, tipping his hand to Anthony in light of Skeeter's inflammatory article. Really, he should be more upset over it...but he'd visited Hogsmeade and the Ministry with no ill-wishers attempting to hex him or snide remarks... If there was fallout from the bloody article, he'd pay Skeeter a visit. He had enough blackmail set aside on various members of the press, and her file was... extensive.
He sighed and turned towards Hermione. She was asleep, breathing steadily in and out, curled on her side. He'd made sure to give her another pain potion before bed, as she'd been curling in on herself while reading on the couch.
Jean, after dinner, had taken girlish pleasure in taking Hermione upstairs to look at her earrings for the Ministry's ball. Apparently they'd chosen something Hermione was happy with, for she'd been grinning upon her return to the couch. How he'd been roped into agreeing to go to the shops with her that weekend was beyond him...yet, he had.
A soft smile graced his lips, and he traced the waistband of her knickers where her nightgown had ridden up with gentle fingers. I should pay more attention to her clothes, he thought to himself, admiring her. He knew she looked lovely in red, peach, blue, spring green...really, anything...
Such plain knickers. She was so incredibly beautiful to him. Would she like silk or satin? Something soft against her skin? He could probably afford imported undergarments, like Lucius had done for Cissy when they were newly married...
No... Severus loved the practicality of her clothing. She was appealing to him regardless of her wardrobe, at least unless she decided to wear a certain odious shade of pink, but he highly doubted she would do so. Thank Merlin for small favors.
Granted...if she wanted to wear extravagant undergarments, he would be amenable to such changes. Nothing mewed, his furred head popping up on the other side of Hermione, and he reached over to scratch between his ears. Appeased, the feline jumped off the bed and went in search of causing trouble – in the mornings, he tended to find that the hall rugs were moved by several feet.
Lifting his hand, he gestured; the sheets rose, covering the two of them once more, and he curled behind her. Severus inhaled, ignoring the way the curls against her neck tickled his nose, and kissed her shoulder.
Hermione made a soft noise of content, pressing back against him.
"I'm not wearing robes," Hermione'd informed him that Saturday morning with a cheeky grin, when he'd resignedly inquired as to which dressmakers she intended to visit. "They didn't specify what sort of ball it was, or to wear robes..."
With a smug grin, he Apparated with her to an alley near a Muggle shopping center. He'd also intended to circumvent the Ministry by wearing robes similar to those he'd worn as a teacher – decidedly underdressed for their function. The worst they could do was tell him to go home and change. Presumably, any lackey foolish enough to tell him that would know that he wouldn't return.
Hermione seemed fairly comfortable in the shop, comparing the earrings she'd borrowed from Jean to various dresses, slowly adding to the pile on her arm. When a hanger clattered to the ground, he swooped the dresses into his own arms. When she protested, he raised a single insolent eyebrow and she relented, shaking her head.
"I'm glad I'm such an average build," she said. "I can wear almost anything, it's just a matter of fit, really...and Mum's earrings, but it's spring, so it shouldn't be hard to find a good match."
She showed him the posts with their dangling light purple stones, and he nodded, following her to the fitting rooms. Once she'd disappeared into a cubicle with her dresses and undergarments, he sat cautiously in the bowl-shaped chair. Uncomfortable, but then, he supposed it wasn't to encourage people to linger when they should be shopping.
Resisting the urge to drum his fingers impatiently, he surveyed the area. All Muggle shoppers – not the least bit of a threat, unless you counted the adoring glances from the older woman who watched the fitting rooms.
"It's so sweet of you to go shopping with her," the woman interjected suddenly, and his jaw twitched. "Most young men don't wait on their ladies these days."
When he remained silent, she tried again. Merlin, were all women this chatty in dress shops? "Are you shopping for a special event?"
I cannot speak, he signed. Flustered, she subsided, and he smirked. Well, that's one way to shut the nosy biddy up.
The wait was interminable. She'd deemed the first two dresses as a no, with their plunging necklines, and he was inclined to agree. He didn't want reprobate Ministry memo-jockeys ogling her. The third dress was an option, as was the fifth, and the fourth was far too short.
Mercifully, she seemed to hate this sort of shopping as much as he did, and on her modeling of the seventh dress, he'd suggested visiting Flourish and Blotts' afterwards. Her smile was a brilliant reward, and she nearly skipped back to change.
The tenth dress was a clear winner. It was demure enough to not be, in her words, disrespectful to those they'd lost. Indeed, the neck was high, skimming straight across her collarbones, and was past her knees, but still elegant and charming. Her mother's earrings sparkled in her ears as she spun for him, smiling.
More than acceptable, he told her, and Hermione smiled happily.
"I've never found a dress this quickly in my life," she confided. "It took Mum and me two weeks my fourth year, and when Aunt Carol got married I looked for three days...You must be a good luck charm."
I am going to use the washroom, he signed, and she nodded.
"I'll change back, put away the rejects, and buy this one before I change my mind. At least I don't need shoes."
"Oh, you can give the no's to me, dear," said the woman, who'd been watching them raptly. "I'll take care of it."
"Thank you!" Hermione disappeared back to the room, then popped her head back out. "Severus? Do you want me to meet you by where we came in?"
Nodding, he rose stiffly from the chair, waiting until Hermione'd closed the door to glance at the directory outside the dress shop. He had no intention of using the washroom; he'd wanted to purchase her a gift to accentuate whatever dress she'd chosen – now he knew, he could complete his mission.
Upon reaching the jewelry shop, he grimaced and ducked inside. It looked very...posh, and despite his current finances and success, he still felt like the poor boy he'd grown up as in such places. They seemed too bright and clean to allow him entry.
"Hello!" chirped the young blonde behind a counter of rings. "Can I help you find something specific, or are you just browsing?"
Severus sighed and pulled his pen and paper out. "I cannot speak – I seek a gift for a young woman."
"You can't...oh, one moment - Jimmy!" A sandy-haired man came out of the office. "Do you have a moment to help a customer?"
"Of course!" The man affixed a smile Severus supposed should have been dazzling. "What can I help you with, sir?"
"This is Jimmy," the girl beamed. "He signs."
Well, this was surprising. He tucked the paper and pen away. Excellent. I seek a gift – we'll be attending a dance, and I'd like to find her something special to wear.
"Right, then – are you looking for something specific, or a set?"
She has earrings – I'd like to complement her dress.
The young man nodded, and asked various questions – the cut of the earrings (like hell I know), the neckline of her dress, the color of the dress and earrings, then pondered the information. "Sounds like a bracelet would be your best option, if she doesn't wear much jewelry. Over here, we have several light ones, nothing too heavy that would distract from the dress."
He placed a velvet box on the counter, and pulled a few bracelets from the case. "You said the earrings are borrowed, so I don't think you'll want to try to match them, unless you're going to later get her some – no? Didn't think so, if she's borrowing earrings, she's not likely to spend on herself..."
Unless it's books, Severus told him. The man smiled.
"Just like my sister. So, I'd say either these here," he gestured to a row of delicate silver and gold chains, "or these," and indicated a row of sturdy-looking bangles, "would work for you."
Examining the bangles, Severus shook his head. Too firm – she'd end up never wearing it again. Jimmy put them away, he scrutinized the remaining choices.
Those with gems were discounted and returned to the case, and he was left with several options of gold, silver (or white gold – looks silver to me), and the two intertwined. He knew she'd worn both metals in the past, and the two together seemed too... symbolic, and therefore trite.
The white gold was cold and pale against his skin as he lifted one. The gold, however... it seemed brighter, and he closed his eyes, imagining it against her skin. The warmth of on her skin would look striking.
This color, he told him, and began to peruse the selection, mindful that she was probably waiting for him by now.
Yes! he crowed exultantly in his mind. This one was perfect – it was adjustable for her slim wrists, it was plain but pretty and bright, and at the very end dangled a small heart. It was understated and tasteful, and was perfect.
"Nice one! Good price, too," Jimmy said, waving the blonde over to replace the remaining chains while he rung him out. "'Severus'? That's quite a moniker! Better than 'Jimmy', though, I must say..."
Severus made it from the shop without strangling the man, who'd seemed to chat freely during the process, and had tried far too hard to give him a bag. He'd given succinct thanks before stowing his boxed purchase in his pocket and heading to meet Hermione.
Merlin, I hope I've chosen right and that she likes it...