Disclaimer: Anything you recognize belongs to the goddess, JKR or the divine Ms Charlotte Bronte. All I can lay claim to is the convoluted plot, such as it is. The chapter title comes from Disney's "The Sword in the Stone".
Chapter 3: The Magnificent, Marvelous Mad Madame Rochester
Severus was frustrated with his attire, their predicament and the fact that Mrs. Fairfax was something like a female version of Albus - nice enough in small, measured doses but could truly set your teeth on edge.
"That woman is the most singularly bothersome person I have ever had the misfortune to meet," he vented after dinner.
Hermione was rather amused to see her former professor, seemingly the epitome of grave reservation, pacing furiously and expounding loudly on the faults of said woman. She was grateful he had placed a silencing spell on the room.
"She is devoted to you, you know," she smiled as she poured a small glass of brandy for herself. "Brandy?"
"Just leave me the bottle, Hermione," he groused as he looked out the window.
Hermione frowned at that. "You know that drinking yourself into a stupor will not help our situation."
"It will give me a temporary reprieve from this madness," he snapped, resting a hand on the window and glaring at the night sky.
Hermione did not like to see him so despondent. It was hard enough to keep her spirits up in the face of such obstacles. She decided on a different tack.
"It could have been much worse," she ventured lightly, trying to break his somber mood.
"How so?" he asked sharply. "You could have been trapped here with Harry," she smirked as she sipped her drink.
He snorted loudly and turned to her with incredulous eyes. She was shocked to see that he was smiling...well, it was almost a smile...technically the upward turn at the corners of his mouth would constitute a smile.
"I highly doubt, " he drawled, "that Potter would have looked as fetching in that dress."
And Hermione, who was almost never at a loss for words, found herself unable to reply…taking another sip of the brandy to mask her awkwardness.
There had not been much conversation after that…merely an agreement to meet later that night when the other members of the household were asleep.
No kiss…no embrace…nothing.
Hermione wasn't quite sure what to make of the situation in which they now found themselves. It wasn't as if they were in any physical danger and the setting itself was quite charming and quaint. It just…brought to the surface feelings that she had long thought buried and forgotten.
She had never been a flighty girl who delved into romantic fantasies. She had never engaged in much of the teenage hormone-driven gossip that had plagued many of her friends. Hermione had always thought of herself as sensible, realistic and practical.
But that all changed one day…when she began to have those dreams.
She blamed it on loneliness. She attributed it to the fact that she had never allowed herself the luxury of love and this was her mind's way of fulfilling those secret desires.
But, she thought to herself afterwards, she never would have imagined that her secret desires involved Severus Snape.
Then again, why had she been so surprised? After all, they did have a lot in common once one set aside his sarcastic sense of humour, his rather monotonous choice of attire (elegant as it might be) and the fact that all Hogwarts students and most other people were terrified of him.
Oh yes, loads of things in common.
Hermione almost smiled. Ever practical, she had quickly realized that she was in love with the surly Potions Master and then methodically catalogued that bit of self-realization under "Things I Am Not Going to Deal With Right Now."
But he did look so wonderful in those Muggle clothes…would it really be so wrong to wish…
A knocking at her door roused Hermione from her thoughts. Blushing slightly, she threw a wrap over her plain shift and, picking up a chamber lamp, opened the door.
Severus stood there looking somewhat uncomfortable in a red and gold dressing gown over a white shirt and black trousers. He was holding a chamber lamp as well.
"I have charmed all the house occupants on the main levels to sleep but it would be best if we were quiet," he whispered.
Hermione nodded, glad that her blush would not be noticeable in the quasi darkness of the hallway. She set her lamp down on a small table and followed him, closing the door quietly behind her.
"Give me your hand…I don't want you to stumble," he said quietly. She acquiesced and tried not to show any reaction to the warmth of his hand covering hers.
They made their way along the corridor and up a flight of stairs. There was a doorway
"Which way do we go from here?" Severus asked. "You know the geography better than I do."
"Through this small passage…there is a door…locked at its end," Hermione whispered, shivering slightly.
"Don't be afraid, Hermione. We will find a way home," he murmured, turning to look at her with an intensity that made her wish the room were even darker.
"I know we will," she said, proud that her voice did not waver. A quick squeeze of the hand and they walked towards the door in question.
Releasing Severus' hand, Hermione pulled out her wand. "Alohomora," she whispered. The lock opened quietly.
They walked into the room and, in the dim light of a flickering candle, noticed that there was a woman fast asleep on the floor and snoring deeply with an empty tankard next to her.
"Ah, and here is my dearly beloved husband…or so it would appear to an eye less keen than my own," a rich, earthy voice boomed out of the semi darkness. "Lux."
The room was instantly bathed in gentle light. Hermione blinked and then saw Mrs. Bertha Rochester…tall, handsome and very aristocratic in appearance.
"You know that I am not your husband, Madame," Severus bowed respectfully. Hermione curtsied.
"Yes, unfortunately. If Edward were more like you…well, that is another matter entirely. Your heart belongs to another. Please…sit down," Bertha said, waving her wand and making a round table and three chairs appear.
Severus, looking somewhat uncomfortable at that statement, sat down. Hermione sat beside him setting the chamber lamp down and ignoring a curious pang in her heart as she briefly wondered to whom his heart belonged and cursed them to perdition.
"You have been brought here by a misguided enemy," Bertha began speaking and Hermione was immediately reminded of the fortunetellers at the autumn fairs. "He seeks to destroy you but you are fortunate as another has intervened."
"Harry!" Hermione turned to Severus. "He was supposed to meet me…he must have picked up the book."
"And, knowing how predictable our dear Mr. Potter is, he went scampering off to see the Headmaster," Severus sighed. "Well, I am pleased that he did not merely toss the book aside…shows he has some grain of culture in him."
Hermione grinned at Severus cheekily.
"They cannot help you return to your world," Bertha continued, staring at them both with flames of madness dancing in her eyes.
"Is there anyone here who can help us?" Hermione asked.
"I am sorry but there is not," Bertha replied.
"Then we are stuck here for eternity?" Severus whispered, his expression taut.
"I did not say that. There is a way for you to break the spell," Bertha stood up and walked over to the woman on the floor. "You just can't find good help these days."
"How do we break the spell?" Hermione asked, a note of urgency in her voice.
Bertha turned to her with an expression of compassion and…was that envy?
"I cannot tell you that. I am bound by certain oaths and this is one of them. You must discover the means to return on your own."
"That is not particularly helpful, Madame," Severus massaged his temples fiercely.
"I realize that this is not what you wished to hear but it is all I can tell you…except for one thing. You have an enemy here. I do not know who it is but you must be careful," Bertha walked over to Severus and placed a hand on his shoulder. "It is not the one who trapped you here…it is someone else…someone who will stop at nothing to keep you here."
"Who could that be?" Hermione asked, her eyes straying nervously to that hand on Severus' shoulder.
"I haven't the faintest idea," Severus replied tiredly.
"If I become aware of anything that might assist you and that I am allowed to tell you, rest assured that I will," Bertha walked over to the door and opened it in a clear gesture of dismissal.
Hermione and Severus both rose and walked out.
"Thank you. You are not what I expected," Hermione said honestly as she curtsied.
"I suppose not," Bertha replied, laughing. She then came close to Hermione and whispered, "sometimes you never know what form your most secret desire can take."
Hermione blushed and hurried out the door.
"Madame," Severus said formally, bowing.
"Sir, you desire something you believe to be beyond you. I can assure you that it is not," Bertha whispered in Severus' ear.
He gaped for a moment and then hurried out the door as well, closing it behind him and breathing deeply in an effort to steady his nerves.
There was a short silence as the two refugees looked at one another.
"She is…rather surprising," Hermione finally said.
"Quite. Well, we have discovered that we have an enemy but we know not who it is and there is a way out of here but we have to discover it for ourselves. It seems that these characters want to make it fiendishly difficult for us," Severus muttered.
"We have work to do in the morning…we had best get some sleep," she yawned, realizing suddenly that she was very tired.
"I will accompany you to your room. Am I right to assume that this is something the real Mr. Rochester would have done?" Severus held out his arm to Hermione, which she took.
"The more I think about the two of you…" and Hermione stopped for a moment, realizing she had just given herself away that she had been thinking about him. "I mean…in the present context…comparing the character to you. There are some similarities of appearance and perhaps of temperament but there are many differences. I mean, I cannot imagine Edward Rochester stomping around the manor in billowing black robes like an overgrown bat and threatening to take points from the housekeeper."
Perhaps it was the brandy that drove Severus to ask the next question.
"And which do you prefer, Hermione?"
And that same brandy made Hermione reply in all honesty.
"You, Severus."
Thankfully, the brandy did not force either of them to say anything further.
***************Back at Hogwarts*****************
Harry waited in the rooms that the Headmaster had so kindly lent to him for his stay at Hogwarts. Given the circumstances, the venerable Head of Hogwarts had postponed his trip to London and had remained with the younger man in hopes of being some assistance in the problem that had come up.
"They should be here by now," Harry exclaimed, pacing furiously back and forth. "Why are they late?"
Harry had sent an owl to Sirius and Remus explaining the situation and asking for their help. They had quickly replied that they would be there as quickly as possible but to Harry, it wasn't quickly enough.
"It's because of Snape," Harry huffed. "If it had been only Hermione in danger, they would have been here a lot sooner."
"That is hardly a fair assessment, Harry," Dumbledore remonstrated gently while sipping a mug of cocoa.
"They've never gotten along," Harry grumbled.
"While I agree that there is little love lost among them, they are no longer enemies. Sirius recognizes that Severus had an important part to play in the final battle against the Dark Lord…something, I dare say, that Remus knew all along. Severus, for his part, has acknowledged his error in believing Sirius guilty of the crimes committed by Peter Pettigrew."
"I just wish they would hurry," Harry grumbled as he paced.
"Is this soon enough, Harry?" Sirius stepped into view, closely followed by Remus.
"What do we do?" Remus walked over to the Headmaster, concerned at a look of defeat in the older man's eyes.
"All we can do is wait. It would appear that, short of guarding this book, there is precious little we can do," Dumbledore said sadly as Harry slumped into a wing chair.
"Blast!" Sirius shouted.