Disclaimer: It all belongs to JKR. No infringement intended.
Rating: PG, don't know about later.
Summary: A young girl flees her deepest fear, and finds herself face to face with the Potions Master in the dead of night. Time-travel.
Pairing: Severus/Hermione
Lightning Strikes
by Auror Borealis
Chapter 3
"Where were you?" Catherine Finch-Fletchley whispered loudly.
"Did you sneak out to meet a boy?" Eugenia Graham asked excitedly.
"Well, sort of," said Callie. "If you count my father."
Catherine stopped just before the door to the Potions classroom, and grabbed Callie's arm, pulling her to the side. "What happened?"
"There was a storm, I think," said Eugenia. "Did you come down here again?"
"There was a storm? I never heard it."
In the morning, with the storm blown out and a clear sky over the Great Hall at breakfast, it was easy for Callie to roll her eyes at Catherine. The girl could sleep through anything.
"I got scared. My dad found me out here, and I spent the rest of the night on their couch."
Catherine and Eugenia gave her amused smiles. Her phobia was, in the absence of severe weather, a great joke between the three of them. It was easy to laugh about it, when it wasn't scaring her to death.
"Did you get in trouble?" asked Eugenia.
"He took five points from Hufflepuff," Callie answered ruefully. "Sorry about that."
Catherine snorted. "Like those points ever do us any good anyway. Hufflepuff never wins anything. And besides, you couldn't help it. Did Professor Sprout say anything?"
"Nope, not really. She patted me on the head," her companions giggled at this, "and said she wished she could do something to help. She's always really nice about it."
"Miss Snape, Miss Graham, Miss Finch-Fletchley." A silky voice interrupted their tete-a-tete. "If you would do us the honor of joining our humble class…" he bowed mockingly and stood by to let them pass.
"Yes, sir," came a trio of meek replies. They hurried past the professor to find their seats.
Potions was Callie's least favorite class, except for Divination, which was absolutely unbearable. If she had inherited nothing else from her mother, she had a full measure of her impatience with that questionable branch of magic. Her teacher wasn't as fond of dire predictions as Sybill Trelawney had been, but was still easily satisfied if you turned in scrolls of lurid prophecies drawn from your imagination rather than anything the stars had to say about it. It was irritating and a dead bore.
She didn't mind all the chopping and mixing and memorization that came along with a Potions lesson. What bothered her was that half of the class was in Ravenclaw. Most of Hogwarts' brightest students sorted into that house, and Callie felt that her average performance looked that much worse, contrasted with these insufferable know-it-alls. Not to mention that as the Potions Master's daughter, people expected her to excel as a matter of course. Too bad the Potions gene skips a generation, she thought.
The lesson was its usual exercise in stirring up feelings of inadequacy, and she wasn't too surprised when her father asked her to remain after class. He wouldn't rebuke her for not knowing the properties of mallow root; he'd simply tell her what a bright child she was, and how he sometimes thought she could apply herself a bit more.
Only that wasn't what he wanted to talk about, to her relieved surprise.
"Your mother has had an idea that we hope might help you with your fear of storms," he said. She sighed inwardly; she sometimes felt like a guinea pig in a Muggle laboratory, the subject of endless experiments. What would it be this time?
"I'm not sure if it will work," he continued. "The theory is sound, but nothing like it has been attempted in any practical way that I know of. And it will require great fortitude on your part, Caledonia."
"Just as long as I don't have to stand on the Quidditch field in a thunderstorm."
"Not the Quidditch field, sweetheart. The Astronomy Tower."
Callie snorted in disbelief. Surely her father was joking. The Astronomy Tower, in a storm? That was never going to happen, not if she had anything to say about it.
"If you truly can't face it, we won't push you."
A shudder ran through her. Did he have a clue what he was asking? Yes, he did, she knew. And he wouldn't suggest it if he didn't think it had a good chance of working.
Callie sighed. "What will I have to do?"
Two weeks later, the weather took another turn for the worse. It was still clear outside at breakfast time, but the wind was rising, and the Wizarding Weather Service predicted severe thunderstorms in the evening They'd do it tonight, for sure. Callie pushed her kippers around, watching distractedly as the hall filled with owls carrying the morning's mail.
Eugenia and Catherine each had a small assortment of letters. Callie didn't often receive mail. Her parents were both here with her at school, and she had no other wizarding relatives. But sometimes an owl came to rest in front of her plate, and one did so this morning. She untied the letter, which was in a rectangular Muggle envelope and had stamps on the front. She offered the owl a kipper, which it accepted daintily in its beak before flying off again. Callie ripped open the envelope while her friends looked on curiously.
A brightly printed card saying "good luck" was inside, and in it was tucked a five pound note. Her grandparents always sent money in the post, even when it wasn't her birthday or Christmas. But she liked the funny looking paper currency, with its picture of the Muggle queen looking as she had about forty years ago. Her grandfather had signed it, as usual, along the border, in his distinctive, bold scrawl. 'Love to Callie from Granddad.'
"Mum told my grandparents about their idea, I guess," she told her friends. The money was passed to those seated nearest Callie at the Hufflepuff table, so they could get a look at it. Most of them had never seen Muggle money before. When everyone had had a chance to exclaim over it, she tucked it into the pocket where she kept her wand, picked up her books, and rose to go to class.
The wind had been rising steadily since dinner, and shortly before curfew, the first dull rumbles of thunder sounded in the distance. Callie huddled in an armchair before the fire in the Hufflepuff common room, waiting to be summoned to the Astronomy Tower. She didn't wait long; the Fat Friar floated in through the doorway, beaming at the students as he wafted to where Callie sat.
"You've a visitor, m'dear," the ghost said cheerfully. No one had ever seen him anything but cheerful, and many wondered what could have made him remain earthbound as a ghost. Callie wondered too, but she was too polite to ask. Whatever it was, it had to be painful to talk about, she thought.
"Thank you, Friar," she said, smiling back at the Hufflepuff ghost as she stood and walked to the common room entrance, and then, taking a deep breath, pushed it open.
"Good evening, Professor Snape," a sixth year said, the professor nodding in answer. Callie stood aside to let the boy in, before greeting her mother.
"So," Hermione began as they walked, "are you nervous?"
A flash of light lit the window at the end of the corridor, and was followed closely by a rolling, echoing crash. Callie flinched.
"Nervous? Me? Of course not." She smiled weakly, the pallor of her face evident even in the torchlit gloom of the corridor.
Hermione put her arm around her daughter's shoulders. "Don't worry, darling. We won't let anything happen to you."
"I know, Mum. Let's just get it over with, okay?"
Severus Snape waited for them in the Astronomy Tower, which had been cleared of equipment for the occasion. Handing Callie a flask of something silvery and telling her to drink it all, the Potions professor took out his wand and opened the huge observatory skylight in the ceiling. Rain poured in, but a flick of his wife's wand caused it to disappear before it touched them. Lightning was now flashing every few seconds, and the thunder was a continuous rising and falling roar. The worst of the storm was directly overhead.
The potion was syrupy and sweet, and it was difficult to finish it. Callie was certain she was going to throw up, and she breathed deeply to try to steady her roiling stomach. She was placed in the center of the room, and Hermione began to circle her clockwise, reciting an unfamiliar incantation in Latin. Callie closed her eyes. Her parents had explained how this was supposed to work. No participation was required from her, other than her presence exactly where she was. It sounded dodgy to her, something about using the storm's own energy to break its elemental power over her, but then, they were the geniuses, not her. She tried to think about Quidditch as the heavens raged over her head, trying to push away the fear so she wouldn't bolt and ruin everything. She prayed to the gods that this ordeal would end soon. Her mother's low chant continued, growing in strength and volume. The air crackled around Callie, a sensation she had always hated. She shook with terror. Whatever was supposed to happen, it obviously hadn't happened yet.
Through her closed eyes, Callie could see the flash of brightness that enveloped her, as if lightning had struck into this very room. The scent of burning ozone enveloped her, and suddenly, it felt as though she were traveling through the Floo network, far too fast, out of control. She heard a scream, growing distant, then what sounded like laughter, becoming stronger. She squeezed her eyes tighter, dizziness overtaking her as the ozone smell faded. Eyes still closed, the brilliant light finally fading, Callie collapsed into a heap on the Astronomy Tower floor.
Rating: PG, don't know about later.
Summary: A young girl flees her deepest fear, and finds herself face to face with the Potions Master in the dead of night. Time-travel.
Pairing: Severus/Hermione
Lightning Strikes
by Auror Borealis
Chapter 3
"Where were you?" Catherine Finch-Fletchley whispered loudly.
"Did you sneak out to meet a boy?" Eugenia Graham asked excitedly.
"Well, sort of," said Callie. "If you count my father."
Catherine stopped just before the door to the Potions classroom, and grabbed Callie's arm, pulling her to the side. "What happened?"
"There was a storm, I think," said Eugenia. "Did you come down here again?"
"There was a storm? I never heard it."
In the morning, with the storm blown out and a clear sky over the Great Hall at breakfast, it was easy for Callie to roll her eyes at Catherine. The girl could sleep through anything.
"I got scared. My dad found me out here, and I spent the rest of the night on their couch."
Catherine and Eugenia gave her amused smiles. Her phobia was, in the absence of severe weather, a great joke between the three of them. It was easy to laugh about it, when it wasn't scaring her to death.
"Did you get in trouble?" asked Eugenia.
"He took five points from Hufflepuff," Callie answered ruefully. "Sorry about that."
Catherine snorted. "Like those points ever do us any good anyway. Hufflepuff never wins anything. And besides, you couldn't help it. Did Professor Sprout say anything?"
"Nope, not really. She patted me on the head," her companions giggled at this, "and said she wished she could do something to help. She's always really nice about it."
"Miss Snape, Miss Graham, Miss Finch-Fletchley." A silky voice interrupted their tete-a-tete. "If you would do us the honor of joining our humble class…" he bowed mockingly and stood by to let them pass.
"Yes, sir," came a trio of meek replies. They hurried past the professor to find their seats.
Potions was Callie's least favorite class, except for Divination, which was absolutely unbearable. If she had inherited nothing else from her mother, she had a full measure of her impatience with that questionable branch of magic. Her teacher wasn't as fond of dire predictions as Sybill Trelawney had been, but was still easily satisfied if you turned in scrolls of lurid prophecies drawn from your imagination rather than anything the stars had to say about it. It was irritating and a dead bore.
She didn't mind all the chopping and mixing and memorization that came along with a Potions lesson. What bothered her was that half of the class was in Ravenclaw. Most of Hogwarts' brightest students sorted into that house, and Callie felt that her average performance looked that much worse, contrasted with these insufferable know-it-alls. Not to mention that as the Potions Master's daughter, people expected her to excel as a matter of course. Too bad the Potions gene skips a generation, she thought.
The lesson was its usual exercise in stirring up feelings of inadequacy, and she wasn't too surprised when her father asked her to remain after class. He wouldn't rebuke her for not knowing the properties of mallow root; he'd simply tell her what a bright child she was, and how he sometimes thought she could apply herself a bit more.
Only that wasn't what he wanted to talk about, to her relieved surprise.
"Your mother has had an idea that we hope might help you with your fear of storms," he said. She sighed inwardly; she sometimes felt like a guinea pig in a Muggle laboratory, the subject of endless experiments. What would it be this time?
"I'm not sure if it will work," he continued. "The theory is sound, but nothing like it has been attempted in any practical way that I know of. And it will require great fortitude on your part, Caledonia."
"Just as long as I don't have to stand on the Quidditch field in a thunderstorm."
"Not the Quidditch field, sweetheart. The Astronomy Tower."
Callie snorted in disbelief. Surely her father was joking. The Astronomy Tower, in a storm? That was never going to happen, not if she had anything to say about it.
"If you truly can't face it, we won't push you."
A shudder ran through her. Did he have a clue what he was asking? Yes, he did, she knew. And he wouldn't suggest it if he didn't think it had a good chance of working.
Callie sighed. "What will I have to do?"
Two weeks later, the weather took another turn for the worse. It was still clear outside at breakfast time, but the wind was rising, and the Wizarding Weather Service predicted severe thunderstorms in the evening They'd do it tonight, for sure. Callie pushed her kippers around, watching distractedly as the hall filled with owls carrying the morning's mail.
Eugenia and Catherine each had a small assortment of letters. Callie didn't often receive mail. Her parents were both here with her at school, and she had no other wizarding relatives. But sometimes an owl came to rest in front of her plate, and one did so this morning. She untied the letter, which was in a rectangular Muggle envelope and had stamps on the front. She offered the owl a kipper, which it accepted daintily in its beak before flying off again. Callie ripped open the envelope while her friends looked on curiously.
A brightly printed card saying "good luck" was inside, and in it was tucked a five pound note. Her grandparents always sent money in the post, even when it wasn't her birthday or Christmas. But she liked the funny looking paper currency, with its picture of the Muggle queen looking as she had about forty years ago. Her grandfather had signed it, as usual, along the border, in his distinctive, bold scrawl. 'Love to Callie from Granddad.'
"Mum told my grandparents about their idea, I guess," she told her friends. The money was passed to those seated nearest Callie at the Hufflepuff table, so they could get a look at it. Most of them had never seen Muggle money before. When everyone had had a chance to exclaim over it, she tucked it into the pocket where she kept her wand, picked up her books, and rose to go to class.
The wind had been rising steadily since dinner, and shortly before curfew, the first dull rumbles of thunder sounded in the distance. Callie huddled in an armchair before the fire in the Hufflepuff common room, waiting to be summoned to the Astronomy Tower. She didn't wait long; the Fat Friar floated in through the doorway, beaming at the students as he wafted to where Callie sat.
"You've a visitor, m'dear," the ghost said cheerfully. No one had ever seen him anything but cheerful, and many wondered what could have made him remain earthbound as a ghost. Callie wondered too, but she was too polite to ask. Whatever it was, it had to be painful to talk about, she thought.
"Thank you, Friar," she said, smiling back at the Hufflepuff ghost as she stood and walked to the common room entrance, and then, taking a deep breath, pushed it open.
"Good evening, Professor Snape," a sixth year said, the professor nodding in answer. Callie stood aside to let the boy in, before greeting her mother.
"So," Hermione began as they walked, "are you nervous?"
A flash of light lit the window at the end of the corridor, and was followed closely by a rolling, echoing crash. Callie flinched.
"Nervous? Me? Of course not." She smiled weakly, the pallor of her face evident even in the torchlit gloom of the corridor.
Hermione put her arm around her daughter's shoulders. "Don't worry, darling. We won't let anything happen to you."
"I know, Mum. Let's just get it over with, okay?"
Severus Snape waited for them in the Astronomy Tower, which had been cleared of equipment for the occasion. Handing Callie a flask of something silvery and telling her to drink it all, the Potions professor took out his wand and opened the huge observatory skylight in the ceiling. Rain poured in, but a flick of his wife's wand caused it to disappear before it touched them. Lightning was now flashing every few seconds, and the thunder was a continuous rising and falling roar. The worst of the storm was directly overhead.
The potion was syrupy and sweet, and it was difficult to finish it. Callie was certain she was going to throw up, and she breathed deeply to try to steady her roiling stomach. She was placed in the center of the room, and Hermione began to circle her clockwise, reciting an unfamiliar incantation in Latin. Callie closed her eyes. Her parents had explained how this was supposed to work. No participation was required from her, other than her presence exactly where she was. It sounded dodgy to her, something about using the storm's own energy to break its elemental power over her, but then, they were the geniuses, not her. She tried to think about Quidditch as the heavens raged over her head, trying to push away the fear so she wouldn't bolt and ruin everything. She prayed to the gods that this ordeal would end soon. Her mother's low chant continued, growing in strength and volume. The air crackled around Callie, a sensation she had always hated. She shook with terror. Whatever was supposed to happen, it obviously hadn't happened yet.
Through her closed eyes, Callie could see the flash of brightness that enveloped her, as if lightning had struck into this very room. The scent of burning ozone enveloped her, and suddenly, it felt as though she were traveling through the Floo network, far too fast, out of control. She heard a scream, growing distant, then what sounded like laughter, becoming stronger. She squeezed her eyes tighter, dizziness overtaking her as the ozone smell faded. Eyes still closed, the brilliant light finally fading, Callie collapsed into a heap on the Astronomy Tower floor.
