I was supposed to upload these two chapters yesterday, however, the
Internet was going crazy last night and I couldn't. So, I'm uploading the
last two chapters as well. Enjoy!
French spoken in this chapter. Translation site I used:
The Mirror of Erised Chapter Twenty-Eight By Jewel Little Bird
Fleur hated April Fools Day with a passion. She'd sent a note to Dumbledore, telling him she wasn't well and wouldn't be able to teach today. In reality, she could, but just wanted to avoid the students for a while. Dumbledore had sent a note back, clearly saying he knew she wasn't sick but allowing her the day off anyway. He seemed amused by it.
Besides, the bite marks Snape had left on various parts of her body were having trouble healing, so she figured that a day of lazing about in bed would be good for them.
At the moment, she was lying in bed, reading a book about that Sherlock Holmes character Dumbledore had mentioned. She could now see what the Headmaster meant about being observant. Reading about this character made her feel like she was walking around with her eyes closed. She had a stinking suspicion that Holmes' friend Dr. Watson felt the same way.
The door opened, allowing Snape to enter.
It had been about a week since their little "rendezvous." She was not dumb; she knew that the chances of them staying together now were not very good. However, when she had seen him that night, looking for all the world as if he had been through Hell for a tour and been promised a one-way ticket for the first row seat on the train there.
It had brought to mind one of the few things her father had ever bothered to tell her. She had read a book with a scene in it she hadn't understood one bit. Her mother hadn't been home, so she'd asked her father about it instead. "Pére, je ne comprennent pas la présente partie du livre. Pourriez-vous l'expliquer à moi pour satisfaire?"
He'd taken the book from her and read the chapter she pointed out. "Quelle partie ne comprenez-vous pas?"
"Je ne comprends pas pourquoi il voudrait avoir le sexe après avoir vu tout ce massacre le circuler. Je veux dire, il a vu son ami obtenir tué, et la seconde où il obtient de nouveau au camp, il a le sexe avec un des filles. Ne voudrait-il pas être tout seul après la bataille?"
"Reposez-vous." He'd sat back in his chair and gave her that piercing look that told her she'd better listen carefully. He'd only explained things once, and she'd known it. "Quand quelqu'un a été par une expérience traumatique, Fleur, tel que cet homme avait été à travers, ils se sentent comme s'ils sont à moitié morts. Après, ils doivent faire quelque chose de sorte qu'ils puissent être sûrs qu'ils sont vivants. Parfois ils mangent jusqu'à ce qu'ils soient malades, parfois ils font une activité qu'ils apprécient comme la natation, mais la majeure partie du temps, ils ont le sexe. Le sexe est une distraction très émotive et active. Vous ne pouvez pas avoir le sexe et vous sentir mort après. C'est pourquoi l'homme a eu le sexe; il a dû le connaître était vivant."
Snape had looked as if he needed to know he was alive. So, when he had asked her to stay, she had. Sometimes, when they were alone, he held her in a way that told her he was trying to forget what he had seen, so she let him. When they were in public, though, he treated her as he did all of the other teachers: he kept his distance and ignored her. She sensed that he was trying to pretend he hadn't slept with her.
"I heard you were sick," he asked her, raising an eyebrow. He frowned; his eyes had fallen upon a particularly nasty bite mark on her arm. "Did I do that?"
"I am not really sick, and oui, you did." She put down the book. "What is it you are 'ere for?"
He sat in the chair by her bed and took her hand in his. He rubbed his thumb across her knuckles, looking as if he was thinking very heavy thoughts. "Fleur, I... I don't want you to take this the wrong way, but... I...." He didn't look at her. "I'm leading a dangerous life at the moment, and if I'm not careful, it could put you in danger." His grip on her hand tightened. "I don't want to lose you, I want you to be safe... and if you stay here, then...."
"I understand, Severus. You are, uh, squeezing ze blood from my 'and."
He loosened his grip, but didn't let her go. Nor did she want him to. "Why did you get the Defense Against the Dark Arts job?" he asked. "You're awfully young."
She grinned. "It was my major subject, and I excelled in it so much zat I was even better zan my Defense Against ze Dark Arts teacher. Ze only zing I 'ave trouble with are grindlylows; eef zere is more zan one, zen I can't 'andle zem. Besides, zey are creepy, like spiders."
@
End of Chapter Twnety-Eight
French spoken in this chapter. Translation site I used:
The Mirror of Erised Chapter Twenty-Eight By Jewel Little Bird
Fleur hated April Fools Day with a passion. She'd sent a note to Dumbledore, telling him she wasn't well and wouldn't be able to teach today. In reality, she could, but just wanted to avoid the students for a while. Dumbledore had sent a note back, clearly saying he knew she wasn't sick but allowing her the day off anyway. He seemed amused by it.
Besides, the bite marks Snape had left on various parts of her body were having trouble healing, so she figured that a day of lazing about in bed would be good for them.
At the moment, she was lying in bed, reading a book about that Sherlock Holmes character Dumbledore had mentioned. She could now see what the Headmaster meant about being observant. Reading about this character made her feel like she was walking around with her eyes closed. She had a stinking suspicion that Holmes' friend Dr. Watson felt the same way.
The door opened, allowing Snape to enter.
It had been about a week since their little "rendezvous." She was not dumb; she knew that the chances of them staying together now were not very good. However, when she had seen him that night, looking for all the world as if he had been through Hell for a tour and been promised a one-way ticket for the first row seat on the train there.
It had brought to mind one of the few things her father had ever bothered to tell her. She had read a book with a scene in it she hadn't understood one bit. Her mother hadn't been home, so she'd asked her father about it instead. "Pére, je ne comprennent pas la présente partie du livre. Pourriez-vous l'expliquer à moi pour satisfaire?"
He'd taken the book from her and read the chapter she pointed out. "Quelle partie ne comprenez-vous pas?"
"Je ne comprends pas pourquoi il voudrait avoir le sexe après avoir vu tout ce massacre le circuler. Je veux dire, il a vu son ami obtenir tué, et la seconde où il obtient de nouveau au camp, il a le sexe avec un des filles. Ne voudrait-il pas être tout seul après la bataille?"
"Reposez-vous." He'd sat back in his chair and gave her that piercing look that told her she'd better listen carefully. He'd only explained things once, and she'd known it. "Quand quelqu'un a été par une expérience traumatique, Fleur, tel que cet homme avait été à travers, ils se sentent comme s'ils sont à moitié morts. Après, ils doivent faire quelque chose de sorte qu'ils puissent être sûrs qu'ils sont vivants. Parfois ils mangent jusqu'à ce qu'ils soient malades, parfois ils font une activité qu'ils apprécient comme la natation, mais la majeure partie du temps, ils ont le sexe. Le sexe est une distraction très émotive et active. Vous ne pouvez pas avoir le sexe et vous sentir mort après. C'est pourquoi l'homme a eu le sexe; il a dû le connaître était vivant."
Snape had looked as if he needed to know he was alive. So, when he had asked her to stay, she had. Sometimes, when they were alone, he held her in a way that told her he was trying to forget what he had seen, so she let him. When they were in public, though, he treated her as he did all of the other teachers: he kept his distance and ignored her. She sensed that he was trying to pretend he hadn't slept with her.
"I heard you were sick," he asked her, raising an eyebrow. He frowned; his eyes had fallen upon a particularly nasty bite mark on her arm. "Did I do that?"
"I am not really sick, and oui, you did." She put down the book. "What is it you are 'ere for?"
He sat in the chair by her bed and took her hand in his. He rubbed his thumb across her knuckles, looking as if he was thinking very heavy thoughts. "Fleur, I... I don't want you to take this the wrong way, but... I...." He didn't look at her. "I'm leading a dangerous life at the moment, and if I'm not careful, it could put you in danger." His grip on her hand tightened. "I don't want to lose you, I want you to be safe... and if you stay here, then...."
"I understand, Severus. You are, uh, squeezing ze blood from my 'and."
He loosened his grip, but didn't let her go. Nor did she want him to. "Why did you get the Defense Against the Dark Arts job?" he asked. "You're awfully young."
She grinned. "It was my major subject, and I excelled in it so much zat I was even better zan my Defense Against ze Dark Arts teacher. Ze only zing I 'ave trouble with are grindlylows; eef zere is more zan one, zen I can't 'andle zem. Besides, zey are creepy, like spiders."
@
End of Chapter Twnety-Eight