The Grist of Her Mill
By SilentG

Chapter 4

The minutes flew by as Hermione ate up the pages of Dangerous Escapism, laughing at the clichéd plot and writing style, and especially at the numerous revelations that mirrored, or at least approximated Harry's predictions. She sighed with dismay as more similarities piled up between her and the hapless heroine, and she wouldn't have admitted it, but she was just a little bit anxious that things would turn out for the two would-be lovers, because right now, it didn't look too good.

They would dine in the restaurant at The Paradores, where Esmeralda and her son were staying. It was a much nicer hotel than the one Callisto had shared with Marta, and the stranded English Rose was even gladder that she'd accepted her new friend's insisted-upon generosity.

"I must say, my dear, the sand linen was a fine choice. You look stunning," Esmeralda said to her companion as they sat in the hotel lounge, sipping cocktails and awaiting the arrival of the older woman's son. To Callisto's chagrin, the rest of the day had been devoted to placing her even more in her friend's debt, with the addition of a fitted, cross-strapped cocktail gown, very modern, with wooden buttons all up the back, which emphasised her small, but firm and perky bust. Callisto felt a little self-conscious in the unfamiliar dress, which to her mind just screamed 'sex', and hugged the matching jacket around her. A variety of garments, including intimates, sat in bags in Esmeralda's suite, where the two had gone to freshen up after their long, tiring day. Spaniards dined late, by custom, so the two women had been able to nap briefly before dinner, Esmeralda because of her advancing age - 'I don't sleep very well anymore, my dear', and Callisto because of her interrupted slumber of the previous night.

Against her better judgement, Esmeralda had persuaded her young friend to indulge in a more adventuresome style of make-up than she would usually have chosen, adding dusky eye-shadow and liner to her usual mascara, finely defining her shapely eyebrows with pencil, replacing her normal pink lip gloss with a matte lipstick of dark plum, and completing the look with a touch of very flattering gold glitter. She had to admit that the result was pleasing, if a little unfamiliar.

-*~~*~~*-

Arriving early at the Great Hall, Harry and Ron waited impatiently for dinner to start, anticipating the owl special delivery.

It was brilliant the way everything turned out, as Harry said to his partner in crime while they sat at the almost-deserted Gryffindor table, under the blue and pink replica of the afternoon sky.

Lavender's book had given him the idea. It would be a cinch to write a short story in the vein of those creepy romances – a little exaggerated, of course – but the trick was, how to get them distributed anonymously?!

Harry didn't feel too bad about tricking Hermione into arranging for the Potions practice essays to be handed out to the whole year, and he certainly thought that his help with the duplication etc. had made up for it, even though his assistance in the Owlery gave him a perfect opportunity to add the bogus parchment to the packages (the duplication of which was the 'practice' which made him such an expert!)

They took precautions, of course, giving themselves pseudonyms and disguising their handwriting. No-one would be looking for Siobhan Starmayden and A. Edwina Drubbersnout, that was for sure!

The Hall quickly filled up, and when the last of the teachers sat down at the High Table (Snape, of course – no doubt wishing to spend as little time as possible in the company of his fellow humans), the food appeared and they began to eat.

Immediately, there was a flurry of owls from the rafters, and with a swoosh of powerful wings, the essay parchments were delivered. Ron and Harry both watched with cautious curiosity as the students began opening the packages. It was Ron who first noticed the owl circling the teachers' table, delivering a large package to … Snape.

"Harry," Ron hissed, "Look…Snape…how did he – " Ron's voice died off as he beheld the perplexed look on the Potions master's face, even as whoops of laughter broke through the hubbub of the dining hall.

"What, Ron … Oh no!!! Did he get one? We're dead. Might as well bury us now." Harry paled as Snape looked sharply up and directly at the two boys, an expression of pure malevolence darkening his face.

-*~~*~~*-

"I should warn you about my son, my dear. He's a wonderful man, and I love him dearly, but – he doesn't make it easy for people to like him. He's always been that way, since he was a young boy – to my consternation, I'm sure you can imagine! But he's a good man, strong and trustworthy, and I hope that you can see past his … his customary manner. He's very different once you get to know him, I assure you."

Callisto privately thought this was a bit of overkill as a build-up. 'I mean, if this is what she thinks of him, and she's his mother…'

But, she was a guest of this wonderful woman, and if Esmeralda taken to Callisto that quickly, she must have good taste in companionship, right? Right.

Esmeralda had been as vague and mysterious about her son as she had been about herself, but Callisto had managed to find out the basics: he was thirty-eight, exactly fourteen years older than herself, he was an only child, and he had inherited his name, Mason, from his dead father. He had a vocation, which he undertook out of a personal interest (she wouldn't say what it was, only that it matched perfectly his wit, intelligence and discernment), but he still managed to find time to fulfil his duties as the Master of his family estate.

The proud mother stated that had never married, although Callisto got the feeling that there was more to it than that. She didn't press her friend, however, as a uniformed waiter appeared that moment to inform the Señora that a gentleman awaited them in the foyer. "Send him on, if you please," was the reply, and the waiter departed with a deferential nod.

Sitting perpendicular to the lounge entrance, Callisto looked for him out of the corner of her eye while continuing to chit-chat with the widow. Soon, a tall, dark, distinguished man appeared, and nodded haughtily to the tuxedoed host who pointed discreetly in the direction of the two women. Without a word to the attendant, he strode purposefully towards them.

Callisto couldn't help but admire his elegant form, which, enclosed in a perfectly-cut and immaculate black silk suit, was lean but obviously well-shaped and muscular. As he approached the little table, she noticed him removing his leather driving gloves, and tried to shy away from the perceptive gaze of his piercing, dark eyes.

Staring at the small, flickering candle in front of her, Callisto tried to suppress the urge she had to cover herself and shy away from his look, which seemed to penetrate her defences and ruthlessly expose her, naked and vulnerable before him.

It wasn't until she sensed his strong, masculine presence behind the empty third chair that she dared to look up, just as Esmeralda pronounced the introductions: "Callisto, may I present my son, Mason P. Sottier."

Her eyes widening with shock, she saw the mysterious stranger withdraw his proffered hand and take a step back from the table.

"You!!" they said in unison.

-

Hermione dragged herself away from the story reluctantly, when she finally noticed a scratching at the window, which she'd closed just a few minutes earlier to keep out the cooling evening air. Just then Susan appeared, flushed and breathless, at the door.

"Hermione, you've got to come quick. You're wanted in the Great Hall! It's urgent!!"

"What – " Hermione was interrupted by the owl, who hooted indignantly at her before dropping a large package in the chair she'd just vacated.

Susan spoke as Hermione opened the package. "Actually, it has something to do with that. Apparently – "

Hermione held up an unfamiliar parchment, entitled Her Secret Shame, and her face went white as she scanned it. "Oh no," she said despairingly and followed Susan out of the room.

-*~~*~~*-

To find out what made Hermione cringe, check the next chapter - Her Secret Shame.

_____________________________________

A/N: As you may have already guessed, Mason P. Sottier is an anagram. Figure it out! If you want a hint, go to http://www.wordsmith.org/anagram/advanced.html. You'll get a better result if you say in the parameters that you want only two words in the result, no shorter than 6 words each.

I noticed when I went to post Chapter 1 that Isirta2001 named her story 'Snape's Secret Shame' – I didn't mean to copy her with 'Her Secret Shame' – hope you don't mind, Isirta.

Kudos or flames? email me!.

Many thanks to Isirta2001 for posting the challenge, and to WIKTT for their inspiration.

TBC

Upload Date: 01-Oct-02

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