Hello again! I found this really neat website, http://www.neopets.com
Check it out, and there's a Harry Potter guild that is awesome!
And to continue this advertisement, check out my wonderful Yahoo! group, A Potions Master and an Angel. That's APM triple A! Visit http://groups.yahoo.com/groups/APMAAA
Harry Potter doesn't belong to me, but one day VSO Enterprises will! (don't ask)
"...you're just reeking of feminine beauty..." -from Shrek
Rutabaga Chapter 1- Fed up By: Mylaea Rawn
~*~
Hermione looked down at her eggs Benedict. "I see a sort of squashed flower in it," she said. "How about you, Seamus?" It was breakfast and the Gryffindor gang was taking turns trying to see pictures in their runny eggs.
"I see... I see a Grim... and it's looking at Colin! You're going to die tragically and horribly!" Seamus exclaimed, falling over backwards in his seat laughing. Colin looked horrified. Dean took aim at Seamus with a slice of toast, threw it and missed spectacularly, the poor piece of toast landing somewhere at the Hufflepuff table.
Hermione laughed, wondering if Harry and Ron were okay. Dumbledore had called them to his office yesterday and she hadn't seen them since. She knew it had something to do with Voldemort, but what?
Everyone jumped as the doors to the Great Hall burst open. Minerva McGonagall stepped in, her robes muddy and blood-splattered, her wand out and a levitating stretcher behind her. The shape on the stretcher was barely distinguishable as a man. The disfigured form on the stretcher was Professor Snape!
A few weeks later, Harry, Hermione, and Ron were at their desk in Potions, preparing ingredients for the substitute teacher. They had been told that Snape was "incapacitated" for the time being, and required live-in nurses to stay with him. He was very unhappy about this, and his classes could hear him yelling and throwing things at them. The nurses would inevitably get so frustrated with him that they would just quit. He had gone through 14 nurses in three weeks.
Suddenly, a white blur streaked by screaming "I quit!"
Ron and Harry high-fived and made another tally mark on the sheet of paper they were using to see how many nurses Snape had gone through. Looking at Hermione, they stopped laughing and dove under the table simultaneously. They recognized the look on Hermione's face and did not want to be within her range of eyesight.
Hermione grit her teeth, slammed down her knife, and stormed to the back of the room. She crashed down a small hallway and tore open a plain wooden door. Professor Snape was sitting up in his bed, shirtless, the blankets over his legs and bandages wrapped around his abdomen. He looked at her in shock.
"Professor Snape, you are behaving exactly as a spoiled child would who was told they couldn't have a piece of candy before dinner. I don't know why you have to have a live-in nurse, but you could at least treat them in a civil manner when they're trying to help you. They are grown adults, not students, so your pleasure in terrorizing them is inexcusable. Now stop wallowing in self-pity and let someone help you for once! Those nurses were too kind and gentle with you. If it were me, I wouldn't take any of your childish displays of temper. Now if you'll excuse me, I have class I have to get back to. You remember Potions? The class you used to teach!" And with that, Hermione turned on her heel and left the room, leaving Professor Snape in a very sour mood indeed.and still in shock.
"Yes, Albus? You called me?" Minerva McGonagall stepped into Dumbledore's office. He had summoned her and requested that she hurry. Albus motioned for her to sit before speaking. "Now I know you've heard about Miss Granger's ... tirade at Severus this morning." He held up a hand as McGonagall tried to reason with him. "Normally, I would be upset at such a display of insubordination, but I think Miss Granger is exactly the thing Severus needs."
"What? You think she should be his live-in nurse? Is that wise, sir? I mean, he isn't exactly her favorite teacher, or anyone's, for that matter."
Dumbledore graciously ignored that needless stab at Snape and continued. "Yes, but you and I both know that she has had training in nursing and in physical therapy. Hermione will know how to deal with him, and I know she'll work wholeheartedly even if she doesn't particularly enjoy Severus' company. Her classes won't be an issue. As you know, she is only taking a few classes, seeing as she used her Time Turner again last year. Minerva, would you be so kind as to retrieve Hermione?"
McGonagall nodded and left the room. Dumbledore sat back at his desk and absent-mindedly stroked Fawkes' feathers. He knew Hermione would be up to the job, but how would Snape take it?
Snape sourly stared at the wall across from his bed. The only thing on his mind was the ticking of the clock, ticking, ticking, ticking the time up until she was supposed to come. He was furious at Voldemort for subjecting him to the Cruciatus curse for so long his spine snapped, furious at Dumbledore for insisting that someone live with him and take care of him like a helpless baby until he learned to walk again, and furious at the Granger girl for meddling in his affairs and yelling at him so rudely. And now she was the one who would be taking care of him! If only he weren't so handicapped. He scowled down at his useless legs, hidden under the sheets.
Hermione walked down the small hallway leading to Snape's quarters. In order to take care of him, she had to move into a room adjoining his. She had transfigured her things to be one-tenth the size so that they all fit easily into her schoolbag, which was slung over her shoulder. Harry and Ron's reactions had been dramatic, to say the least. Her ears were still ringing as she opened the door to Snape's room. Her first impression was of something small and red whizzing towards her. Her hand instinctively reached up and caught it. She looked at it and realized it was a green and silver glass paperweight - Caithness glass.quite valuable. She saw Snape smirking insolently at her. She grinned and chucked it right back at him. His hand came up and caught it effortlessly. He set it back down on the table and turned away from her.
Hermione looked around the room. Snape was sitting upright in a beautiful mahogany four-poster bed. The room was filled with floor to ceiling bookcases, positively overflowing with books of all shapes and sizes. There was a large mahogany desk on the other side of the room from the bed. Next to it, a door with a simple brass handle opened into a smaller room. Hermione could see a bed from where she was standing. She looked again at Snape, who was moodily looking away from her.
"Well, Professor Snape, I'm going to unpack. Is there anything you need?" She waited. He didn't even bat an eyelash. So he's giving me the silent treatment, eh? she thought amusedly. She didn't have any real siblings, but her mother had always taken in abused kids, neglected kids, or kids who she wanted to keep off the street. Her house was constantly full of people, and she knew how to deal with everything- including temper tantrums and the silent treatment.
"As long as you don't need anything..." she called as she waltzed into her room. She left the door open and threw her bag on her bed.
Snape scowled. She didn't even try to get an answer out of him. He was certain he could keep this up until she quit. He heard sounds coming from her room, a few spells, sounds of clothing rustling, and drawers opening and closing. Wait, was she singing? He strained his ears. It was a Muggle song, with a simple tune.
He was a lord of high degree and she was a lass from the low country and she loved his lordship so tenderly, oh sorrow, sing sorrow
Now she sleeps in the valley where the wildflowers grow and no one knew she loved him but herself and God
Snape sighed. Hermione's voice wasn't astoundingly beautiful, but it was clear and strong. Bored, he looked around the room for the book he had been reading. He saw it on the ground next to his bed. He remembered picking it up, preparing to throw it at that last nurse, and setting it down. He had always treated books with respect and care. He had thrown his bedside clock instead.
He leaned over and reached for the book. He strained and his fingertips just brushed the cover. He grit his teeth in concentration, his arm stretching as far as it would go.
"You do realize that if you fall I'm just going to laugh?" Hermione's smug tone cut through the room. He looked up at her, his hair falling over his eyes. He sneered and with one final lunge, he got the book. He settled back into the pillow and looked up at Hermione, only to find she wasn't there.
Hermione placed the last folded shirt into the dresser. She took out again the note from Dumbledore that was on her bed.
Miss Granger-
Professor Snape needs six weeks to heal, and then you can start his physical therapy. His brace is in the closet for when you need to move him. Please notify Madam Pomfrey if you need anything. Thank you for your help.
Albus Dumbledore
Hermione grinned. Dumbledore always knew how to take charge of a situation. Glancing at her watch, she walked back into Snape's room. He wasn't even looking at the open book in his lap, his eyes staring angrily at his legs. Hermione cleared her throat, making him jump. "I'm going down to the kitchens to get us some dinner. What would you like?" Snape rolled his eyes and picked up his book.
He waited until she had left before casting the book aside.
Hermione listened as the pear giggled with glee and swung forward to admit her. She walked into the kitchens and was hugged so tight around the middle her stomach said hello to her backbone. Gasping, she peeled the house-elf off of her. "Good evening, Dobby. I trust you're getting along well?" Dobby nodded.
"Yes, miss. I've missed you so very much! Winky has now found what she calls 'proper masters' but I still get to visit her on my day off." He puffed his chest out importantly before continuing. "I heard about Mister Snape's injury, and also about you taking care of him," he said, a frown crossing his face. Hermione smiled, although it was a bit strained.
"Listen, Dobby, it's great to see you, but could I get two baked potatoes and some steamed carrots?" Dobby bowed delightedly and scurried off. She looked around the kitchen and was surprised when a small little girl house- elf tugged at her skirt. "It's vewy nice of you to take care of Mistewr Snape," she said bashfully. "When he would come down and cook he would always give me a piece of chocow... chocow... candy. Pwease tell him to get better." Hermione pat her hand and promised she would. Her eyes twinkled as she watched her run off.
"Here is your food, miss," Dobby said, scaring Hermione. "Thank you, Dobby," she said, taking it from him, "and what's this about Professor Snape cooking?" He bobbed his head in delight. "Sometimes when he didn't want to eat in the Great Hall, he would come and cook his own meals. He was a good cook and he liked to-" Dobby cut off and ran to a nearby table, banging his head against it repeatedly. Hermione rushed over and pulled him away.
"I have to go now, Dobby. I understand that you won't tell me whatever it is he liked to do. Thank you for your help. See you tomorrow morning, all right?" Dobby nodded and Hermione left, balancing the two plates and humming softly.
Hermione stopped outside the room and levitated the plates so she could open the door. When she did, she barely moved fast enough to catch a vase that flew at her. She set it down and brought the plates into the room. Putting hers on the table, she placed Snape's plate on his lap. He just frowned at her. "What, you're not hungry? I know you must be." Snape rolled his eyes. "Don't you like it? You didn't tell me what you wanted, so I had to guess."
Snape made a mocking face, his eyes narrowed and his lips set in a thin line. Hermione gasped theatrically. "Oh that's right, I forgot. Madam Pomfrey told me you were allergic to potatoes and that you hate carrots. Too bad this is what you get to eat until morning. The house-elves might think it a little rude of me to bring it back. I'm so sorry I didn't think of it before, but only if you would have reminded me..." she said sweetly
She gasped as oven-hot potato was smeared all over her face. She stood up and promptly poured a pitcher of water on him that had been on the bedside table. Snape sputtered and gasped. "Maybe next time you won't be so rude as to not talk to me, hmm?" Hermione asked, her eyebrows raised and a twinkle of amusement in her eyes.
Hermione could have sworn she heard Snape growl. She looked at the soaking wet bedsheets and muttered a spell to dry them instantaneously. His clothes, however, would shrink if the spell were used, so...
"Professor, if you would remove your clothes so you can get into fresh pajamas, I'm sure you would be a lot more comfortable." Snape's eyes registered panic. Hermione rolled her eyes. "Oh, please, it's not like I'm going to watch or anything. Besides, it's nothing I haven't seen before. When you stay at the Burrow you're bound to walk in on someone, or dare them to go streaking..."
Hermione started to smile at the memory but then quickly shut up. She didn't want to reveal anything about her life or memories to Snape. Crossing over to the dresser, she pulled open the top drawer. It was just underwear and socks. The next drawer down held dark green flannel pajama bottoms. She tossed a pair to Snape over her shoulder.
She waited until she heard him stop moving around to turn around. Snape's wet clothes were in a pile on the floor, and he was lying down with his back turned to her. Hermione bent to pick up the clothes. She wandered into the bathroom, which was beautiful with a white and forest green color motif. She hung the garments over the shower curtain rod to let them dry overnight. She pulled out her wand and summoned her toiletry bag to her.
Snape rolled on his back and stared at the ceiling. He had heard whatever items she had summoned fly across the room. Hearing the shower going, Snape rolled his eyes. When did this girl go to sleep? Like you sleep much yourself, Severus, a voice said in the back of his mind. Snape smirked.
He knew he could sleep easily now- the potion he had slipped to Voldemort did the trick. Unfortunately, Voldemort had discovered his treachery and decided to put him through pain before killing him. Before Voldemort could finish him off, the Aurors had come out of nowhere and attacked. Potter, of course, used the Avada Kedavra curse on Voldemort, but what Potter didn't know is that Voldemort had long been impervious to that curse. The potion's effects had taken over just in time for Potter to be a world-loved hero, while Snape sat in bed with disgustingly useless legs and a young lady he despised not fifteen feet from him. Wrapped up in his thoughts, he didn't notice when the water was turned off.
Hermione walked by, her hair up in a dripping ponytail and a large green towel wrapped around her. Her face was fresh and clean, her bare feet making soft indentions in the carpet. Snape quickly shut his eyes, pretending to sleep. He heard Hermione cross over to him. He felt her cool hand on his cheek, and he smelled the refreshing scent of a spring breeze.
"Goodnight. Maybe tomorrow you'll speak to me and make my job a lot easier. Sleep well, Severus." She said his name at barely a whisper. She moved her hand from his cheek and retreated into her room, the door making a soft click as she shut it.
~*~
I bought a tape of "25 Classical Favorites" at Wal-Mart for $1.96. Yay me!
Review if you want to, don't if you don't feel like it. Raves will be raves and flames will be flames.
Is anyone happy with the style that I write? I just feel like my syntax and diction usage are getting old. I am too critical of my writing, I know that.
And to continue this advertisement, check out my wonderful Yahoo! group, A Potions Master and an Angel. That's APM triple A! Visit http://groups.yahoo.com/groups/APMAAA
Harry Potter doesn't belong to me, but one day VSO Enterprises will! (don't ask)
"...you're just reeking of feminine beauty..." -from Shrek
Rutabaga Chapter 1- Fed up By: Mylaea Rawn
~*~
Hermione looked down at her eggs Benedict. "I see a sort of squashed flower in it," she said. "How about you, Seamus?" It was breakfast and the Gryffindor gang was taking turns trying to see pictures in their runny eggs.
"I see... I see a Grim... and it's looking at Colin! You're going to die tragically and horribly!" Seamus exclaimed, falling over backwards in his seat laughing. Colin looked horrified. Dean took aim at Seamus with a slice of toast, threw it and missed spectacularly, the poor piece of toast landing somewhere at the Hufflepuff table.
Hermione laughed, wondering if Harry and Ron were okay. Dumbledore had called them to his office yesterday and she hadn't seen them since. She knew it had something to do with Voldemort, but what?
Everyone jumped as the doors to the Great Hall burst open. Minerva McGonagall stepped in, her robes muddy and blood-splattered, her wand out and a levitating stretcher behind her. The shape on the stretcher was barely distinguishable as a man. The disfigured form on the stretcher was Professor Snape!
A few weeks later, Harry, Hermione, and Ron were at their desk in Potions, preparing ingredients for the substitute teacher. They had been told that Snape was "incapacitated" for the time being, and required live-in nurses to stay with him. He was very unhappy about this, and his classes could hear him yelling and throwing things at them. The nurses would inevitably get so frustrated with him that they would just quit. He had gone through 14 nurses in three weeks.
Suddenly, a white blur streaked by screaming "I quit!"
Ron and Harry high-fived and made another tally mark on the sheet of paper they were using to see how many nurses Snape had gone through. Looking at Hermione, they stopped laughing and dove under the table simultaneously. They recognized the look on Hermione's face and did not want to be within her range of eyesight.
Hermione grit her teeth, slammed down her knife, and stormed to the back of the room. She crashed down a small hallway and tore open a plain wooden door. Professor Snape was sitting up in his bed, shirtless, the blankets over his legs and bandages wrapped around his abdomen. He looked at her in shock.
"Professor Snape, you are behaving exactly as a spoiled child would who was told they couldn't have a piece of candy before dinner. I don't know why you have to have a live-in nurse, but you could at least treat them in a civil manner when they're trying to help you. They are grown adults, not students, so your pleasure in terrorizing them is inexcusable. Now stop wallowing in self-pity and let someone help you for once! Those nurses were too kind and gentle with you. If it were me, I wouldn't take any of your childish displays of temper. Now if you'll excuse me, I have class I have to get back to. You remember Potions? The class you used to teach!" And with that, Hermione turned on her heel and left the room, leaving Professor Snape in a very sour mood indeed.and still in shock.
"Yes, Albus? You called me?" Minerva McGonagall stepped into Dumbledore's office. He had summoned her and requested that she hurry. Albus motioned for her to sit before speaking. "Now I know you've heard about Miss Granger's ... tirade at Severus this morning." He held up a hand as McGonagall tried to reason with him. "Normally, I would be upset at such a display of insubordination, but I think Miss Granger is exactly the thing Severus needs."
"What? You think she should be his live-in nurse? Is that wise, sir? I mean, he isn't exactly her favorite teacher, or anyone's, for that matter."
Dumbledore graciously ignored that needless stab at Snape and continued. "Yes, but you and I both know that she has had training in nursing and in physical therapy. Hermione will know how to deal with him, and I know she'll work wholeheartedly even if she doesn't particularly enjoy Severus' company. Her classes won't be an issue. As you know, she is only taking a few classes, seeing as she used her Time Turner again last year. Minerva, would you be so kind as to retrieve Hermione?"
McGonagall nodded and left the room. Dumbledore sat back at his desk and absent-mindedly stroked Fawkes' feathers. He knew Hermione would be up to the job, but how would Snape take it?
Snape sourly stared at the wall across from his bed. The only thing on his mind was the ticking of the clock, ticking, ticking, ticking the time up until she was supposed to come. He was furious at Voldemort for subjecting him to the Cruciatus curse for so long his spine snapped, furious at Dumbledore for insisting that someone live with him and take care of him like a helpless baby until he learned to walk again, and furious at the Granger girl for meddling in his affairs and yelling at him so rudely. And now she was the one who would be taking care of him! If only he weren't so handicapped. He scowled down at his useless legs, hidden under the sheets.
Hermione walked down the small hallway leading to Snape's quarters. In order to take care of him, she had to move into a room adjoining his. She had transfigured her things to be one-tenth the size so that they all fit easily into her schoolbag, which was slung over her shoulder. Harry and Ron's reactions had been dramatic, to say the least. Her ears were still ringing as she opened the door to Snape's room. Her first impression was of something small and red whizzing towards her. Her hand instinctively reached up and caught it. She looked at it and realized it was a green and silver glass paperweight - Caithness glass.quite valuable. She saw Snape smirking insolently at her. She grinned and chucked it right back at him. His hand came up and caught it effortlessly. He set it back down on the table and turned away from her.
Hermione looked around the room. Snape was sitting upright in a beautiful mahogany four-poster bed. The room was filled with floor to ceiling bookcases, positively overflowing with books of all shapes and sizes. There was a large mahogany desk on the other side of the room from the bed. Next to it, a door with a simple brass handle opened into a smaller room. Hermione could see a bed from where she was standing. She looked again at Snape, who was moodily looking away from her.
"Well, Professor Snape, I'm going to unpack. Is there anything you need?" She waited. He didn't even bat an eyelash. So he's giving me the silent treatment, eh? she thought amusedly. She didn't have any real siblings, but her mother had always taken in abused kids, neglected kids, or kids who she wanted to keep off the street. Her house was constantly full of people, and she knew how to deal with everything- including temper tantrums and the silent treatment.
"As long as you don't need anything..." she called as she waltzed into her room. She left the door open and threw her bag on her bed.
Snape scowled. She didn't even try to get an answer out of him. He was certain he could keep this up until she quit. He heard sounds coming from her room, a few spells, sounds of clothing rustling, and drawers opening and closing. Wait, was she singing? He strained his ears. It was a Muggle song, with a simple tune.
He was a lord of high degree and she was a lass from the low country and she loved his lordship so tenderly, oh sorrow, sing sorrow
Now she sleeps in the valley where the wildflowers grow and no one knew she loved him but herself and God
Snape sighed. Hermione's voice wasn't astoundingly beautiful, but it was clear and strong. Bored, he looked around the room for the book he had been reading. He saw it on the ground next to his bed. He remembered picking it up, preparing to throw it at that last nurse, and setting it down. He had always treated books with respect and care. He had thrown his bedside clock instead.
He leaned over and reached for the book. He strained and his fingertips just brushed the cover. He grit his teeth in concentration, his arm stretching as far as it would go.
"You do realize that if you fall I'm just going to laugh?" Hermione's smug tone cut through the room. He looked up at her, his hair falling over his eyes. He sneered and with one final lunge, he got the book. He settled back into the pillow and looked up at Hermione, only to find she wasn't there.
Hermione placed the last folded shirt into the dresser. She took out again the note from Dumbledore that was on her bed.
Miss Granger-
Professor Snape needs six weeks to heal, and then you can start his physical therapy. His brace is in the closet for when you need to move him. Please notify Madam Pomfrey if you need anything. Thank you for your help.
Albus Dumbledore
Hermione grinned. Dumbledore always knew how to take charge of a situation. Glancing at her watch, she walked back into Snape's room. He wasn't even looking at the open book in his lap, his eyes staring angrily at his legs. Hermione cleared her throat, making him jump. "I'm going down to the kitchens to get us some dinner. What would you like?" Snape rolled his eyes and picked up his book.
He waited until she had left before casting the book aside.
Hermione listened as the pear giggled with glee and swung forward to admit her. She walked into the kitchens and was hugged so tight around the middle her stomach said hello to her backbone. Gasping, she peeled the house-elf off of her. "Good evening, Dobby. I trust you're getting along well?" Dobby nodded.
"Yes, miss. I've missed you so very much! Winky has now found what she calls 'proper masters' but I still get to visit her on my day off." He puffed his chest out importantly before continuing. "I heard about Mister Snape's injury, and also about you taking care of him," he said, a frown crossing his face. Hermione smiled, although it was a bit strained.
"Listen, Dobby, it's great to see you, but could I get two baked potatoes and some steamed carrots?" Dobby bowed delightedly and scurried off. She looked around the kitchen and was surprised when a small little girl house- elf tugged at her skirt. "It's vewy nice of you to take care of Mistewr Snape," she said bashfully. "When he would come down and cook he would always give me a piece of chocow... chocow... candy. Pwease tell him to get better." Hermione pat her hand and promised she would. Her eyes twinkled as she watched her run off.
"Here is your food, miss," Dobby said, scaring Hermione. "Thank you, Dobby," she said, taking it from him, "and what's this about Professor Snape cooking?" He bobbed his head in delight. "Sometimes when he didn't want to eat in the Great Hall, he would come and cook his own meals. He was a good cook and he liked to-" Dobby cut off and ran to a nearby table, banging his head against it repeatedly. Hermione rushed over and pulled him away.
"I have to go now, Dobby. I understand that you won't tell me whatever it is he liked to do. Thank you for your help. See you tomorrow morning, all right?" Dobby nodded and Hermione left, balancing the two plates and humming softly.
Hermione stopped outside the room and levitated the plates so she could open the door. When she did, she barely moved fast enough to catch a vase that flew at her. She set it down and brought the plates into the room. Putting hers on the table, she placed Snape's plate on his lap. He just frowned at her. "What, you're not hungry? I know you must be." Snape rolled his eyes. "Don't you like it? You didn't tell me what you wanted, so I had to guess."
Snape made a mocking face, his eyes narrowed and his lips set in a thin line. Hermione gasped theatrically. "Oh that's right, I forgot. Madam Pomfrey told me you were allergic to potatoes and that you hate carrots. Too bad this is what you get to eat until morning. The house-elves might think it a little rude of me to bring it back. I'm so sorry I didn't think of it before, but only if you would have reminded me..." she said sweetly
She gasped as oven-hot potato was smeared all over her face. She stood up and promptly poured a pitcher of water on him that had been on the bedside table. Snape sputtered and gasped. "Maybe next time you won't be so rude as to not talk to me, hmm?" Hermione asked, her eyebrows raised and a twinkle of amusement in her eyes.
Hermione could have sworn she heard Snape growl. She looked at the soaking wet bedsheets and muttered a spell to dry them instantaneously. His clothes, however, would shrink if the spell were used, so...
"Professor, if you would remove your clothes so you can get into fresh pajamas, I'm sure you would be a lot more comfortable." Snape's eyes registered panic. Hermione rolled her eyes. "Oh, please, it's not like I'm going to watch or anything. Besides, it's nothing I haven't seen before. When you stay at the Burrow you're bound to walk in on someone, or dare them to go streaking..."
Hermione started to smile at the memory but then quickly shut up. She didn't want to reveal anything about her life or memories to Snape. Crossing over to the dresser, she pulled open the top drawer. It was just underwear and socks. The next drawer down held dark green flannel pajama bottoms. She tossed a pair to Snape over her shoulder.
She waited until she heard him stop moving around to turn around. Snape's wet clothes were in a pile on the floor, and he was lying down with his back turned to her. Hermione bent to pick up the clothes. She wandered into the bathroom, which was beautiful with a white and forest green color motif. She hung the garments over the shower curtain rod to let them dry overnight. She pulled out her wand and summoned her toiletry bag to her.
Snape rolled on his back and stared at the ceiling. He had heard whatever items she had summoned fly across the room. Hearing the shower going, Snape rolled his eyes. When did this girl go to sleep? Like you sleep much yourself, Severus, a voice said in the back of his mind. Snape smirked.
He knew he could sleep easily now- the potion he had slipped to Voldemort did the trick. Unfortunately, Voldemort had discovered his treachery and decided to put him through pain before killing him. Before Voldemort could finish him off, the Aurors had come out of nowhere and attacked. Potter, of course, used the Avada Kedavra curse on Voldemort, but what Potter didn't know is that Voldemort had long been impervious to that curse. The potion's effects had taken over just in time for Potter to be a world-loved hero, while Snape sat in bed with disgustingly useless legs and a young lady he despised not fifteen feet from him. Wrapped up in his thoughts, he didn't notice when the water was turned off.
Hermione walked by, her hair up in a dripping ponytail and a large green towel wrapped around her. Her face was fresh and clean, her bare feet making soft indentions in the carpet. Snape quickly shut his eyes, pretending to sleep. He heard Hermione cross over to him. He felt her cool hand on his cheek, and he smelled the refreshing scent of a spring breeze.
"Goodnight. Maybe tomorrow you'll speak to me and make my job a lot easier. Sleep well, Severus." She said his name at barely a whisper. She moved her hand from his cheek and retreated into her room, the door making a soft click as she shut it.
~*~
I bought a tape of "25 Classical Favorites" at Wal-Mart for $1.96. Yay me!
Review if you want to, don't if you don't feel like it. Raves will be raves and flames will be flames.
Is anyone happy with the style that I write? I just feel like my syntax and diction usage are getting old. I am too critical of my writing, I know that.