Jezebel
--by Egon Starcollector
Chapter 3: Those Who Would Destroy the Prophets of God
Disclaimer: Ahhh...fuhgeddaboudit...you know who owns them.
Rating: Okay, okay, *now* it's PG! :)
Author's note: The POV will shift back and forth between Snape and Hermione for a bit as poor Severus can't be *everywhere* at once.
The storm hit shortly after supper. Snape hadn't seen it rain like this since...since the night Harvey Bender was sent to Azkaban. He'd been sentence to life imprisonment for "use of magic indirectly resulting in the death of an innocent victim"--meaning that while he couldn't be tried for murder, the court still held him responsible for Augusta's death.
Snape still remembered seeing Bender in the hall after the trial. "Well, was it worth it?" he'd asked him.
"You bet, sonny...and your sister was the best of the bunch!"
Little Severus spat in Bender's face and sneered, "I hear Azkaban is lovely this time of year." He knew it wasn't, but in his young mind he wanted to build the man's hopes up so the torment would be even worse.
After all these years, he still wondered if maybe, just maybe, it had worked.
He wondered how long Bender's mind had lasted...the Dementors had probably feasted on his memories of those poor, innocent girls. Snape devoutly hoped that Augusta's face had been the one to break him.
He sat down at his desk and picked up the pewter frame that always watched over his work. The picture showed a pretty young woman of sixteen. Her straight black hair brushed the shoulders of her powder-blue sweater. She was giggling, smiling, and waving at her best friend, who held the camera. "Augusta...."
Harvey Bender was the reason Snape coveted the DADA job--someone had to teach girls to defend themselves, after all. And Augusta Snape was the reason he always wore black. He was still in deep mourning, all these years later. He didn't care if it made him seem morbid and obsessive. He knew too well that deep down, part of him was still an eleven-year-old boy watching the only person he'd ever loved die in agony. If he looked closely, he could still see the scars where she'd clawed his hand....
"Aggie, please! Please don't die!"
"Sev...I'm sorry...that it had to be this way. I didn't have any choice...."
"But there must be something they can do!"
"I love you, Sevvie...." She was the only person who ever told him that. She'd choked on his childhood nickname...gagged...her eyes rolled back in her head...and her hand went limp.
"AGGGGGIEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!"
A deafening roar of thunder split the air around Hogwarts as a single tear slid down Snape's cheek and landed on Augusta's picture.
He knew now why mourners wore black. For him, it reflected the shadow that had covered his life for so many years...the shadow that was the only thing left when his guiding light, his sister, closed her eyes to this world forever.
It was a sheeting rain outside; Snape could hear it pounding on the roof. He was on his way up from his office to the staff meeting room, which was where he thought he'd left his best grading quill. As he passed a hall window.... "Harry!" What? He must be hearing things...but no. Hermione Granger was standing outside, soaked to the skin and screaming Harry Potter's name.
"That's no place for a date," he muttered quietly. He was tempted to give the girl detention for endangering her health like that. He made a note to speak to her and Potter about their choice in rendezvous spots...but as he neared the Great Hall, the note was wiped clean from his mind. There stood Harry Potter, back to the wall, clearly cornered by Cho Chang.
"Now Harry...you *do* know the ball is coming up...?"
This, decided Snape, was unacceptable. His quill could wait; this could not. He summoned his rain cloak and hurried outside.
Hermione was cold, angry, and thoroughly saturated. How dare Harry do this to her! He asked her to meet him by the lake, and then had the gall to leave her standing outside when it started to storm! Where *was* he, anyway? "Harry!" She was going to be horse at this rate....
She looked up to see a cloaked figure coming towards her. Finally! She was going to give him such a piece of her mind.... Oh no wait...that was too tall to be Harry! "Professor Snape!" she gasped in despair. Great, now she was going to have pneumonia *and* a week of detentions!
"Professor look, I can explain...."
"No time for that!" To Hermione's shock, a...kind...expression spread over the man's face. "Right now, you had best go and claim what is rightfully yours." Without another word, he turned and went back into the castle.
Hermione stood speechless for a moment. What...could he mean Harry? She hurried into the castle, only to find Harry Potter mere inches away from Cho Chang's lips.
"Um, Cho, may I ask what you're doing with my date for the ball?"
"Oh but Hermione, you *must* be mistaken. Harry was just about to ask me to the ball...weren't you, Harry?"
That did it. Before Harry could answer, Hermione grabbed Cho by the hair and pulled the Asian girl away from him. "I beg to differ." CRACK! Hermione's fist connected with Cho's jaw, sending the girl sprawling. Cho glared at her, then lept up like a tight spring uncoiling. She knocked Hermione to the ground, and soon the two of them were rolling on the floor kicking and biting and punching and pulling hair. Hermione gave Cho a black eye. Cho left claw marks on Hermione's face. Hermione bit Cho and tore her robes. Cho yanked out a tuft of Hermione's hair. Hermione threw Cho, wrenching Cho's shoulder. Cho wrestled Hermione back to the ground and sprained her finger for her. Hermione kicked Cho in the kneecap, knocking her down again. Cho slapped Hermione as hard as she could.
Ronald Weasley showed up looking for Harry; seeing the girls trying to tear each other to pieces, he abruptly broke into his best--or was it worst?--Lee Jordan impression. "Ladeeees and gennlemen, the fight of the century is on right here at Hogwarts. In this corner, weighing one hundred pounds, Miss Cho Chang of Ravenclaw. In the other corner...HEY!" He didn't get to finish as one of the girl's feet hit him in the back of the knee, knocking him backwards into the fray. His hair was standing on end and he was missing a show before he got away from them.
A bunch of boys--mostly third years--soon gathered around the spectacle. "Fight! Fight! Fight! Fight! Fight!" Well, the two young women didn't need instructions; they were certainly doing that. Now they were standing, now they were tackling each other to the floor again. Now Hermione was winning, now Cho. Now they were just a tangle of flailing limbs and ripping robes, Ravenclaw and Gryffindor utterly indistiguishable from each other. Cho was wiry, but Hermione soon gained the upper hand. She was straddling Cho, fist raised to shatter Cho's perfect nose into a hundred pieces, when someone pulled her off.
"Miss Granger!" Snape again, of all people. Really, Hermione was starting to get paranoid. "You *are* aware that fighting is prohibited on Hogwarts grounds."
"Yes sir."
"Ten points each from Ravenclaw and Gryffindor for fighting. Both of you ladies will serve detention. Miss Granger, you will serve yours tomorrow night helping Professor Hagrid feed the animals. Miss Chang, you will spend next Saturday night helping Miss Pince clean the library shelves; she informs me they need it badly."
"But, but, Professor! Next Saturday night is the ball!"
"I am aware of that, Miss Chang. Now Miss Granger...." Here, to Hermione's utter disbelief, he raised her hand to the level of her shoulder and pressed it into a fist. "Next time, keep your wrist straight. If you bend your wrist, you lose much of the force behind the punch. Also, try to aim for a spot about two inches below the skin; that will increase the force at the point of actual contact. However, your uppercut is excellent." He turned to glare at the crowd of students. "There's nothing to see here, people. Move along. Ladies, do not forget your detentions."
Hermione felt as though she'd landed in an episode of the Muggle television show 'The Twilight Zone.' Was this really happening?
"Hermione, are you all right?" Harry's voice broke her train of thought.
"Hm? Oh, yes...I guess I am."
"I think you need some rest."
"I know *I* do after that. You girls hit hard!"
"Shut up, Ron."
--by Egon Starcollector
Chapter 3: Those Who Would Destroy the Prophets of God
Disclaimer: Ahhh...fuhgeddaboudit...you know who owns them.
Rating: Okay, okay, *now* it's PG! :)
Author's note: The POV will shift back and forth between Snape and Hermione for a bit as poor Severus can't be *everywhere* at once.
The storm hit shortly after supper. Snape hadn't seen it rain like this since...since the night Harvey Bender was sent to Azkaban. He'd been sentence to life imprisonment for "use of magic indirectly resulting in the death of an innocent victim"--meaning that while he couldn't be tried for murder, the court still held him responsible for Augusta's death.
Snape still remembered seeing Bender in the hall after the trial. "Well, was it worth it?" he'd asked him.
"You bet, sonny...and your sister was the best of the bunch!"
Little Severus spat in Bender's face and sneered, "I hear Azkaban is lovely this time of year." He knew it wasn't, but in his young mind he wanted to build the man's hopes up so the torment would be even worse.
After all these years, he still wondered if maybe, just maybe, it had worked.
He wondered how long Bender's mind had lasted...the Dementors had probably feasted on his memories of those poor, innocent girls. Snape devoutly hoped that Augusta's face had been the one to break him.
He sat down at his desk and picked up the pewter frame that always watched over his work. The picture showed a pretty young woman of sixteen. Her straight black hair brushed the shoulders of her powder-blue sweater. She was giggling, smiling, and waving at her best friend, who held the camera. "Augusta...."
Harvey Bender was the reason Snape coveted the DADA job--someone had to teach girls to defend themselves, after all. And Augusta Snape was the reason he always wore black. He was still in deep mourning, all these years later. He didn't care if it made him seem morbid and obsessive. He knew too well that deep down, part of him was still an eleven-year-old boy watching the only person he'd ever loved die in agony. If he looked closely, he could still see the scars where she'd clawed his hand....
"Aggie, please! Please don't die!"
"Sev...I'm sorry...that it had to be this way. I didn't have any choice...."
"But there must be something they can do!"
"I love you, Sevvie...." She was the only person who ever told him that. She'd choked on his childhood nickname...gagged...her eyes rolled back in her head...and her hand went limp.
"AGGGGGIEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!"
A deafening roar of thunder split the air around Hogwarts as a single tear slid down Snape's cheek and landed on Augusta's picture.
He knew now why mourners wore black. For him, it reflected the shadow that had covered his life for so many years...the shadow that was the only thing left when his guiding light, his sister, closed her eyes to this world forever.
It was a sheeting rain outside; Snape could hear it pounding on the roof. He was on his way up from his office to the staff meeting room, which was where he thought he'd left his best grading quill. As he passed a hall window.... "Harry!" What? He must be hearing things...but no. Hermione Granger was standing outside, soaked to the skin and screaming Harry Potter's name.
"That's no place for a date," he muttered quietly. He was tempted to give the girl detention for endangering her health like that. He made a note to speak to her and Potter about their choice in rendezvous spots...but as he neared the Great Hall, the note was wiped clean from his mind. There stood Harry Potter, back to the wall, clearly cornered by Cho Chang.
"Now Harry...you *do* know the ball is coming up...?"
This, decided Snape, was unacceptable. His quill could wait; this could not. He summoned his rain cloak and hurried outside.
Hermione was cold, angry, and thoroughly saturated. How dare Harry do this to her! He asked her to meet him by the lake, and then had the gall to leave her standing outside when it started to storm! Where *was* he, anyway? "Harry!" She was going to be horse at this rate....
She looked up to see a cloaked figure coming towards her. Finally! She was going to give him such a piece of her mind.... Oh no wait...that was too tall to be Harry! "Professor Snape!" she gasped in despair. Great, now she was going to have pneumonia *and* a week of detentions!
"Professor look, I can explain...."
"No time for that!" To Hermione's shock, a...kind...expression spread over the man's face. "Right now, you had best go and claim what is rightfully yours." Without another word, he turned and went back into the castle.
Hermione stood speechless for a moment. What...could he mean Harry? She hurried into the castle, only to find Harry Potter mere inches away from Cho Chang's lips.
"Um, Cho, may I ask what you're doing with my date for the ball?"
"Oh but Hermione, you *must* be mistaken. Harry was just about to ask me to the ball...weren't you, Harry?"
That did it. Before Harry could answer, Hermione grabbed Cho by the hair and pulled the Asian girl away from him. "I beg to differ." CRACK! Hermione's fist connected with Cho's jaw, sending the girl sprawling. Cho glared at her, then lept up like a tight spring uncoiling. She knocked Hermione to the ground, and soon the two of them were rolling on the floor kicking and biting and punching and pulling hair. Hermione gave Cho a black eye. Cho left claw marks on Hermione's face. Hermione bit Cho and tore her robes. Cho yanked out a tuft of Hermione's hair. Hermione threw Cho, wrenching Cho's shoulder. Cho wrestled Hermione back to the ground and sprained her finger for her. Hermione kicked Cho in the kneecap, knocking her down again. Cho slapped Hermione as hard as she could.
Ronald Weasley showed up looking for Harry; seeing the girls trying to tear each other to pieces, he abruptly broke into his best--or was it worst?--Lee Jordan impression. "Ladeeees and gennlemen, the fight of the century is on right here at Hogwarts. In this corner, weighing one hundred pounds, Miss Cho Chang of Ravenclaw. In the other corner...HEY!" He didn't get to finish as one of the girl's feet hit him in the back of the knee, knocking him backwards into the fray. His hair was standing on end and he was missing a show before he got away from them.
A bunch of boys--mostly third years--soon gathered around the spectacle. "Fight! Fight! Fight! Fight! Fight!" Well, the two young women didn't need instructions; they were certainly doing that. Now they were standing, now they were tackling each other to the floor again. Now Hermione was winning, now Cho. Now they were just a tangle of flailing limbs and ripping robes, Ravenclaw and Gryffindor utterly indistiguishable from each other. Cho was wiry, but Hermione soon gained the upper hand. She was straddling Cho, fist raised to shatter Cho's perfect nose into a hundred pieces, when someone pulled her off.
"Miss Granger!" Snape again, of all people. Really, Hermione was starting to get paranoid. "You *are* aware that fighting is prohibited on Hogwarts grounds."
"Yes sir."
"Ten points each from Ravenclaw and Gryffindor for fighting. Both of you ladies will serve detention. Miss Granger, you will serve yours tomorrow night helping Professor Hagrid feed the animals. Miss Chang, you will spend next Saturday night helping Miss Pince clean the library shelves; she informs me they need it badly."
"But, but, Professor! Next Saturday night is the ball!"
"I am aware of that, Miss Chang. Now Miss Granger...." Here, to Hermione's utter disbelief, he raised her hand to the level of her shoulder and pressed it into a fist. "Next time, keep your wrist straight. If you bend your wrist, you lose much of the force behind the punch. Also, try to aim for a spot about two inches below the skin; that will increase the force at the point of actual contact. However, your uppercut is excellent." He turned to glare at the crowd of students. "There's nothing to see here, people. Move along. Ladies, do not forget your detentions."
Hermione felt as though she'd landed in an episode of the Muggle television show 'The Twilight Zone.' Was this really happening?
"Hermione, are you all right?" Harry's voice broke her train of thought.
"Hm? Oh, yes...I guess I am."
"I think you need some rest."
"I know *I* do after that. You girls hit hard!"
"Shut up, Ron."