Ask Me No More
-kiki
Disclaimer: I don't Harry Potter or the universe in which the characters live; I'm just borrowing them to portray an original plot. Also, the poem (an excerpt from 'Songs from the Princess') is by Alfred Lord Tennyson. ~~~~~
Ask me no more: The moon may draw the sea; The cloud may stoop from heaven and take the shape With fold to fold, of mountain or of cape; But O too fond, when have I answer'd thee?
Ask me no more.
~~~~~ 'How disturbingly funny...Hermione Granger, an assassin' she thought with malice.
The world was indeed a dark place since Harry Potter died. The faith of the wizarding people had broken, and the ministry had broken along with it. There were few organizations still able to resist the influence of Lord Voldemort. Hogwarts was one of the largest still standing. Life had been least affected in this school as the barren wastelands of the acres surrounding echoed memories of things once living. Though many children were shielded from the horrors of the outside world, Hermione was not one of them. She had to face the death of Harry with bravery rather than with sadness. After all, it was her duty to maintain a strong will as Head Girl.
She had to face the deep torture and insanity in his face. She alone had to watch him, his eyes empty with loneliness and pain. Hermione Granger had to help him, free him and end his misery... With tears in her eyes, she whispered the small words able to send him into peace.
And after, there was nothing she could do but run. She couldn't trust even Dumbledore to understand. Nobody else saw what she had...except for Voldemort. He'd sent Harry into the pain, into the misery, and he knew what she had seen. Her sense was twisted, she knew only that Voldemort was able to understand her reasons.
He welcomed and comforted her. In the long months leading to winter and break, she knew she could count on Voldemort...to give her knowledge and answers, to reward her with respect and recognition from her peers. She was nurtured and poisoned.
She trudged from the forest, knees buried in the winter snow. Her recent meeting with a messenger from her Lord gave knowledge of her newest task. Hermione had but to assassinate Professor Severus Snape. An easy enough task it seemed, with her being head girl, trusted by all and with access to areas of the school at any time.
She came into the entrance hall, clothes soaked through. Luckily, there were no people there to see her looking so unkempt. Head girls had to keep up appearances after all. Her shoes clicked quietly on the marble steps leading to her rooms.
Winter took its toll on the castle and the people within. Even with most of the students gone, all the people left in the castle were uncharacteristically gloomy. All but one Severus Snape that is, his gloominess was a hundred percent authentic. He walked silently through the corridors leading into the Great Hall. Due to lack of students, there was one table assembled aside the Staff table. Hermione came down from her dormitory, fresh from a hot shower and a few quick-dry spells. She sat at the edge of the student's table, not wanting to be stuck inbetween people. Apparently, somebody else approaching the staff table felt the same way. To her right was an authentically gloomy Professor Snape finding his seat. Hermione hadn't the time to organize her tactics yet, and didn't know exactly what method she would use. With this puzzle boring down on her, she couldn't spare him a second glance.
The two ate in silence against the noise, which enveloped the Great Hall. Severus stood up soon after, leaving for his dungeons with robes trailing behind him. Hermione couldn't help but watch him.in awe, not only of him, but of her task and of the consequences. She couldn't help but wonder if there would be understanding in the end.
~~~
She had time to think about her plans in her own room. She had few options...anything too obvious would lead to suspicion. Assassination was a tricky business indeed. She did still have her future as a student to think about after all. Hermione did not want her years of studying to be in vain, so she thought of subtle ways to murder her once despised professor.
'A potion? Ah, he's nearly as suspicious as Moody...he wouldn't just drink something he didn't know who'd handled...perhaps love. Even great Severus Snape would fall at the hands of love. The greatest weapon.' She began to outline tactics in her head, not daring to put them out on paper, to make them true.
Her plans memorized, she fell back on her bed and blew a kiss to the urn holding a year-dead Crookshanks. ~~~~
Severus Snape lay on his bed, contemplating the beginning of the next year, marking the 2nd anniversary of his bitter parting with Voldemort.
'There would be no happiness to the man who'd made the greatest sacrifices.' He thought to himself. This neither hurt nor surprised him. It was always the same. He was forced to live his mundane life as a professor where others died at war; bringing glory to themselves. He was hidden away in the deepest parts of that safe castle. 'In a cage...repressed..." and sleep pulled at him until he could no longer keep his eyes open.
The next day came subtly; the sun had barely risen. If it were shining brightly, nobody in the castle would have been able to tell. The dark clouds covered anything that even remotely resembled sky.
Hermione rolled on to her side, checking the time on her floating clock. Finding it early still, she woke slowly. With the morning came her morning rituals: The kiss blown to ashes, the cleansing and finally, the changing. Remembering her plans, she picked out simple yet attractive clothes, A slim fitting v-neck t-shirt with dark jeans and her cloak over it to fight the winter cold. She opened the door and simultaneously cast a warming spell on herself as the rush of cold air hit her from outside the room.
Her shoes clicked at contact with the cold marble steps. Her rooms were separate from those of the dorms connected to the Gryffindor common room. She had rights to a special dorm with two rooms as Head Girl. Her room was opposite the Head Boy's, currently empty because he'd gone home for the winter. She noted this; it was to her advantage. The only people who'd ever come in this part of the castle were the head boy and girl; it would be easy to slip anybody by into her rooms.
And then she thought of him; the actual person behind the object of her malice. She wondered what his life was like, the pain he'd gone through. The suffering he'd had to live while in service of Voldemort. She couldn't deny the pain that often accompanied her job. And her suffering was nothing compared to that of those who had to go out, to terrorize and create destruction. It was true, nobody could love Voldemort, only fear him. Only Hermione could understand the horror and the beauty of it. She was seduced. Her thoughts of Severus vanished as quickly as they had come. And again, she had only hate towards Severus in her mind. He'd die at her hands.and she would smile.
~~~
TBC, dja like it? ^_^ please read and review, I thrive off of it. Yep, I'm one of the poor fools who need validation for everything @.@...I suppose that's not something to be proud of. Well, reviews would be nice anyway. -kiki (yes I have an obsession with sadness @.@)
Disclaimer: I don't Harry Potter or the universe in which the characters live; I'm just borrowing them to portray an original plot. Also, the poem (an excerpt from 'Songs from the Princess') is by Alfred Lord Tennyson. ~~~~~
Ask me no more: The moon may draw the sea; The cloud may stoop from heaven and take the shape With fold to fold, of mountain or of cape; But O too fond, when have I answer'd thee?
Ask me no more.
~~~~~ 'How disturbingly funny...Hermione Granger, an assassin' she thought with malice.
The world was indeed a dark place since Harry Potter died. The faith of the wizarding people had broken, and the ministry had broken along with it. There were few organizations still able to resist the influence of Lord Voldemort. Hogwarts was one of the largest still standing. Life had been least affected in this school as the barren wastelands of the acres surrounding echoed memories of things once living. Though many children were shielded from the horrors of the outside world, Hermione was not one of them. She had to face the death of Harry with bravery rather than with sadness. After all, it was her duty to maintain a strong will as Head Girl.
She had to face the deep torture and insanity in his face. She alone had to watch him, his eyes empty with loneliness and pain. Hermione Granger had to help him, free him and end his misery... With tears in her eyes, she whispered the small words able to send him into peace.
And after, there was nothing she could do but run. She couldn't trust even Dumbledore to understand. Nobody else saw what she had...except for Voldemort. He'd sent Harry into the pain, into the misery, and he knew what she had seen. Her sense was twisted, she knew only that Voldemort was able to understand her reasons.
He welcomed and comforted her. In the long months leading to winter and break, she knew she could count on Voldemort...to give her knowledge and answers, to reward her with respect and recognition from her peers. She was nurtured and poisoned.
She trudged from the forest, knees buried in the winter snow. Her recent meeting with a messenger from her Lord gave knowledge of her newest task. Hermione had but to assassinate Professor Severus Snape. An easy enough task it seemed, with her being head girl, trusted by all and with access to areas of the school at any time.
She came into the entrance hall, clothes soaked through. Luckily, there were no people there to see her looking so unkempt. Head girls had to keep up appearances after all. Her shoes clicked quietly on the marble steps leading to her rooms.
Winter took its toll on the castle and the people within. Even with most of the students gone, all the people left in the castle were uncharacteristically gloomy. All but one Severus Snape that is, his gloominess was a hundred percent authentic. He walked silently through the corridors leading into the Great Hall. Due to lack of students, there was one table assembled aside the Staff table. Hermione came down from her dormitory, fresh from a hot shower and a few quick-dry spells. She sat at the edge of the student's table, not wanting to be stuck inbetween people. Apparently, somebody else approaching the staff table felt the same way. To her right was an authentically gloomy Professor Snape finding his seat. Hermione hadn't the time to organize her tactics yet, and didn't know exactly what method she would use. With this puzzle boring down on her, she couldn't spare him a second glance.
The two ate in silence against the noise, which enveloped the Great Hall. Severus stood up soon after, leaving for his dungeons with robes trailing behind him. Hermione couldn't help but watch him.in awe, not only of him, but of her task and of the consequences. She couldn't help but wonder if there would be understanding in the end.
~~~
She had time to think about her plans in her own room. She had few options...anything too obvious would lead to suspicion. Assassination was a tricky business indeed. She did still have her future as a student to think about after all. Hermione did not want her years of studying to be in vain, so she thought of subtle ways to murder her once despised professor.
'A potion? Ah, he's nearly as suspicious as Moody...he wouldn't just drink something he didn't know who'd handled...perhaps love. Even great Severus Snape would fall at the hands of love. The greatest weapon.' She began to outline tactics in her head, not daring to put them out on paper, to make them true.
Her plans memorized, she fell back on her bed and blew a kiss to the urn holding a year-dead Crookshanks. ~~~~
Severus Snape lay on his bed, contemplating the beginning of the next year, marking the 2nd anniversary of his bitter parting with Voldemort.
'There would be no happiness to the man who'd made the greatest sacrifices.' He thought to himself. This neither hurt nor surprised him. It was always the same. He was forced to live his mundane life as a professor where others died at war; bringing glory to themselves. He was hidden away in the deepest parts of that safe castle. 'In a cage...repressed..." and sleep pulled at him until he could no longer keep his eyes open.
The next day came subtly; the sun had barely risen. If it were shining brightly, nobody in the castle would have been able to tell. The dark clouds covered anything that even remotely resembled sky.
Hermione rolled on to her side, checking the time on her floating clock. Finding it early still, she woke slowly. With the morning came her morning rituals: The kiss blown to ashes, the cleansing and finally, the changing. Remembering her plans, she picked out simple yet attractive clothes, A slim fitting v-neck t-shirt with dark jeans and her cloak over it to fight the winter cold. She opened the door and simultaneously cast a warming spell on herself as the rush of cold air hit her from outside the room.
Her shoes clicked at contact with the cold marble steps. Her rooms were separate from those of the dorms connected to the Gryffindor common room. She had rights to a special dorm with two rooms as Head Girl. Her room was opposite the Head Boy's, currently empty because he'd gone home for the winter. She noted this; it was to her advantage. The only people who'd ever come in this part of the castle were the head boy and girl; it would be easy to slip anybody by into her rooms.
And then she thought of him; the actual person behind the object of her malice. She wondered what his life was like, the pain he'd gone through. The suffering he'd had to live while in service of Voldemort. She couldn't deny the pain that often accompanied her job. And her suffering was nothing compared to that of those who had to go out, to terrorize and create destruction. It was true, nobody could love Voldemort, only fear him. Only Hermione could understand the horror and the beauty of it. She was seduced. Her thoughts of Severus vanished as quickly as they had come. And again, she had only hate towards Severus in her mind. He'd die at her hands.and she would smile.
~~~
TBC, dja like it? ^_^ please read and review, I thrive off of it. Yep, I'm one of the poor fools who need validation for everything @.@...I suppose that's not something to be proud of. Well, reviews would be nice anyway. -kiki (yes I have an obsession with sadness @.@)
