Draco returned to his chair, hunching forward with both elbows resting on
his spread knees.
"What do you want..", Snape murmured softly, his charcoal black eyes gleamed from the depth of their dark sockets.
"Want?" Draco asked puzzled. "I don't quite understand what you-"
"You are attempting to defeat a man at his own game, boy", Snape sneered. "Just tell me what exactly you've found and your price."
For a passing second, they simply sat there staring at each other, Draco amused by the outcome and pondering a humorous reply which would leave Snape uncertain of his accusation; but the intimidating look of the older man made him wonder if he was in risk of taking this a tad bit too far -- so he leaned back in the chair, nodding.
"Well, lets just say your assumptions *are* correct".
Draco sniggered at that, and his hand swung down the back of the chair as he shifted his weight on to his left.
"Well, I found a large pair of indigo boxers - too big to belong to a student", he explained, "which leads me to ask, for I truly can't help myself, professor - Why? What in marlin's name compelled you to", he stopped to laugh, "shag a filthy hussy like that Granger girl?." Snape scowled at him. "I am certain a man as yourself are capable of finding better wenches"
"That, is none of your business! And I will thank you to find less crude ways to express yourself", he replied, his eyes glittering with menace. "Use your wits, boy, you do not want me as your enemy. Now, I suggest you tell me what you want before I lose my patience."
Draco snickered and smiled but gave a firm nod. "Oh, Professor, it is hard -- like having free rein in a toy store, you know? So difficult to decide, to just pick -one-"
"I do not appreciate being blackmailed! Lay down your price and get out", he growled in a controlled but threatening tone, watching the smug looking boy enjoy this limited power he was offered, clawing at his bony chin, and shuddering in delight.
Snape didn't in most circumstances accept blackmail -- he knew he had enough on both Draco and his father to threaten him in return, and more importantly, Draco was aware of this. Snape could always owl Lucius Malfoy to solve the issue, but that would lead to more complications, and simply take too much time with far too many uncomfortable questions to be answered. Both being Slytherins, they knew the game very well indeed, and he drew the line at becoming a plaything for Draco's amusement. Best to get the deal over and done with straight away, so it all could come to a 'pain free' end; this issue had affected him far too long, for his liking.
"My marks are decent enough..", Draco suddenly said, interrupting Snape's train of thought. "Mmm, maybe Potter's head on a plate? Seeing him failing his classes, would be such a delight, or better -- expelled!" Now the boy's eyes were gleaming with pleasure.
"Don't be ludicrous; if I had the authority to rid the school of Potter, he would have been gone before the end of his first year."
Draco wobbled his head left and right contemplating this fact, before a most hideous smirk shifted across his bony face.
"Then I want a show", he spoke softly, leaning over the desk.
A show?", Snape asked, rising a brow..
"Oh yes, a little entertainment to liven up your oh-so thrilling class.."
"What in Merlin's name are you going on about?!"
"Granger, I want to see her humiliated!", Draco continued in the silky soft whisper, grinning like a madman.
Snape gave a snort. "And you don't think I am doing a sufficient job of that already?"
"Well professor, though it is, mm, *entertaining*, I wondered if you could liven it up for me, just once. It is but a small request, but all I desire for the time being -- I want to see Granger cry!"
Driven by boredom, Draco was determined to get his show, even if he had to threaten Snape into performing; to his dismay though, Snape had flatly rejected his offer and threatened to take it up with his father instead, refusing to be made a mockery of. Draco had carefully informed him that with his father in the ministry, Snape should instead worry about Lucius discovering the truth, since it could cost him a bit more then some self- respect.
All in all, Snape had bellowed that he wanted the boy out of his office immediately, and elegantly Draco had gotten up to leave, giving the man to the end of the week to please him or the evidence would fall in to more willing hands.
**@**
Hermione stood in the centre of her bedroom, playing an old vinyl of 'The Sorcerer' that she had come across wile scavenging through some second-hand shops in her neighbourhood. Ron was glaring at Harry with a confused expression
"Do you like it?", Hermione asked, waving a finger in mid air like a conductor, "It was written in 1877, it is all about this clergyman, that gets convinced that in marriage lies the secret of human bliss, and orders a love-potion to be made from a real wizard of the time. He serves it to the whole of the village, but everybody falls passionately in love with the wrong person, and the moral of the story is that nature is better then science at choosing and predicting the right partner" she explained, swaying her hips back and forth to the music.
"Right..", Ron said, utterly uninterested and eager to get up. Both boys were used to her lecturing them on various subjects, school related, or not, and had come to learn that it was less painful and by far more effective to just make their excuses and leave.
"What about you Harry?", she asked. The boy who had occupied himself by looking at the Quidditch pitch which was currently soaked through with rain, shook his shoulders indifferently.
"I have heard it before, Aunt Petunia is an huge fan of Gilbert and Sullivan -- she even wants Dudley to perform in the local amateur group". He smiled impishly; "I wonder what she would say if I told her that Gilbert was really a wizard!"
"Well I think the woman sounds like a shrieking Banshee to me!", Ron snorted with amusement. "Do they have to howl like that to each other, or is one of the characters deaf?"
Hermione frowned at Ron. "Well, you should try to get an appreciation for the finer arts", she preached, "even Professor Snape happens to think it is good".
Harry jerked around at this, but Ron was the first to speak
"Oh he does, does he? Well yet another reason why I don't plan to stick about and listen to this rubbish", he replied grouchy. "I am hungry, going down to the kitchen to get a bite, can I bring you anything?"
Hermione shook her head, "Bed time, and it should be for you two, also! We have an early class tomorrow!"
"Sure", he replied indifferently.. "Coming Harry?"
Harry seemed hesitant; he wanted to ask Hermione about the connection between her sudden interest in 'The Sorcerer' and Snape, but couldn't come up with the appropriate question -- so he said good night, and with Ron in the lead, both boys trotted out of her room.
With the boys gone, she put the record away, cleared her desk and prepared her school bags for tomorrow. Her first lesson was 'Care of Magical Creatures' with Hagrid, so she knew she would need to carve her initials in to a cucumber for their lesson on Kappas. It was a highly dangerous Japanese water demon, and who would possibly want one as a pet, she couldn't imagine; but Hagrid never seemed to teach them about creatures that any other than he would consider owning.. She also had her suspicions on how one had 'accidentally' appeared in the school pond, just days before their first lesson.
As she stood there carving over her bathroom sink, she couldn't help but look up and in to the mirror smiling to herself, noticing how for the first day since that unfortunate event, nothing related with night of Halloween had come up. "It is going to be alright..", she told her reflection in a half whisper; "of course it will, dear", replied the enchanted mirror. "After tonight, there will be no more issues involving last Saturday", she said more confidently; "I am certain there won't, dear", answered the mirror in its normal cheerful voice. And so she dropped the cucumber scrapings into the bin under the sink, got the remaining potion out, and prepared for bed.
**@**
It was nearly two o'clock at night when she awoke abruptly with a desperate need to visit the toilet. She felt unusually sore between her legs, more so then she had the morning before, and she rolled out of bed and rushed in to the small bathroom. She felt no relief; instead a most agonising pain came over her as she sat there, and as she pulled her knickers and pyjama trousers up, she noticed that the urine was clear as water, hazy in colour and had a strong yeast like stench. She flushed and pulled herself into her room, leaning against the wall as each movement she made seemed to contribute to the increasing pain.
Along with a most horrendous stomach cramp, which caused her to crouch forward and clutch her abdomen, she felt bruised, cut, on the inside, near her cervix, which burned and stung with repetitive stabs of pain that increased when attempting to move her legs.
"It hurts!" she cried to the air, a hand clasping around her privates sinking to the floor, "Oh god, it hurt!" she twitching wile again she was overwhelmed with a stab of intense agony. She needed help; in desperation, despite each motion felling like a lick of flames up between her legs, she still manoeuvred toward the door, stumbling and half sliding down the staircase that wound past the boy's accommodation.
Leaning on the door to Harry and Ron's room, she knocked firmly while resting against the wall, building up the strength to continue. She got no reply, so she turned the handle and stumbled in, standing in the middle of the room, twitching.
"Help me, please.. I.. hurt.. so.. much", she cried.
Ron had already awoken from noise of the door being brutally slammed open, and squinted in the dark, recognising her as she stood in the dim light from the enchanted torches in the hallway.
"Hermione?", he asked, "is that you?". Harry had awoken now as well, and he sat up in bed, reaching for his glasses.
"I am in *so much* pain", she whimpered, sinking to her knees, clutching the lower part of her stomach.
"What happened..", Ron leaped along with Harry out of bed and over to her side
"Are you okay?"
"The.. potion, it has to be the potion..", she whispered, before twitching and letting out another aggravating cry, overwhelmed by another shot of pain.
"What potion?!" asked Ron, but Harry pressed past him; "where does it hurt?", he questioned calmly, crouching down before her. Lightly embarrassed she looked the boy in the eyes and said in a controlled voice, trembling with pain.
"My vagina, it burns", her eyes squeezed shut, and she made a quiet gasp: "it hurts.. a.. l.. lot"
"Ah..", Harry cleared his throat. Ron stepped in; "what POTION!?"
"It is something Snape gave her!", he half snapped at Ron irritated, before he turned to Hermione who was in convulsions. "Should I get Madam Pomfrey?",
"Snape? What did he give her? What is going on here?!?!" Ron protested, quite distorted and furious, balling his fists.
Hermione still trembling and opening her mouth to let out another gasp, whimpered in a voice hardly audible: "n.. no, take me to Snape.."
"Are you sure.. I think Madam Pomfry should kno-"
"PLEASE! Take me to Snape!" Hermione cried, her words emphasised by her agony. Both boys glared at her in shock.
Harry turned to Ron, who stood dumbstruck, watching the two. Contemplating this, he shifted his gaze from the redhead to the suffering girl, before uttering a surrendering sigh; he nodded his head softly and said, "All right.. if you think it is best."
He rose to his feet and collected his wand from his bedside table, and pointed it at her.
"Harry..-?" Hermione whimpered, but before she finished the sentence she had been hit by a sleep charm, and fell against the hard wood floor with a soft thud.
"Why did you do that for?", asked Ron, confused, as he moved over to straighten out her head and limbs from their uncomfortable positions.
"We can't get her down to the dungeon unseen in the stage she is currently in", he replied, walking to his wardrobe to collect a set of robes. "We would wake the whole castle!!"
"You are not seriously considering taking her to Snape, are you?"
Ron lifted her head into his lap, and brushed a few strands of cinnamon brown hair from her sweaty forehead. "What did he do to her?"
He stroke her temple gently; "I have never seen her like this before.."
"Listen Ron, I will tell you all about it later, but now we really have to hurry..", he replied, buttoning up his robe and giving the redhead a puzzled look at the way he was stroking her.
Ron peered up at him with a firm expression. "I want to know Harry! I am bloody tired of the two of you sneakin' about with your secrets! I am not goin' anywhere until you tell me exactly what has happend to 'er!". He lay her head gently down on the floor and got up, facing Harry with his arms crossed before his chest.
"We don't have time, Ron! It is a long story, I'll tell you all about it later, I promise!", said Harry impatiently, fetching his invisibility cloak from the bottom of his bed chest. "Now we must get her to Snape! We don't know how bad this really is." He threw the charmed cloak down. "Here.. cover her."
A reluctant Ron wrapped the cloak about her small figure, and got dressed. Running ahead as he had done so often in the past with the Marauder's Map, he made certain the coast was clear for Harry, and for Hermione who was currently under a Mobilicorpus spell, to make their way down the many stairs to the basement of the castle. Luckily, Filch and Mrs. Norris remained in their office, not seeming to stir, until they reached the door of Snape's private sleeping quarters.
Ron gave the door a firm knock.
***
Finally I have come to a part that will be fun to write.. *yawn* I am very sleepy
dedbabydoll: A slapper is British for slut/tart slapper as in.. a person that gets slapped a lot between her legs with other peoples hips to be a bit more specific.
sweetpea: that you, I am going to post shorter chapters in the future and hopefully it will mean I can update sooner..
tropix: Well yes.. she might take her time, but I do give her very long chapters, most of them are around 6 pages long..
Penultimate Pentippelpus: Takk skal du ha, jeg tror det ikke er mange gutter der ute some skriver Snape/Hermione fortellinger.
(Thank you very much, I don't think there are many boys out there that write Snape/Hermione stories)
I seem to get mostly people with English as a second language reading my story.. hmm that is nifty though *smiles*
Hopefully my English will get better now that I am starting to write about stuff I actually find fun..
"What do you want..", Snape murmured softly, his charcoal black eyes gleamed from the depth of their dark sockets.
"Want?" Draco asked puzzled. "I don't quite understand what you-"
"You are attempting to defeat a man at his own game, boy", Snape sneered. "Just tell me what exactly you've found and your price."
For a passing second, they simply sat there staring at each other, Draco amused by the outcome and pondering a humorous reply which would leave Snape uncertain of his accusation; but the intimidating look of the older man made him wonder if he was in risk of taking this a tad bit too far -- so he leaned back in the chair, nodding.
"Well, lets just say your assumptions *are* correct".
Draco sniggered at that, and his hand swung down the back of the chair as he shifted his weight on to his left.
"Well, I found a large pair of indigo boxers - too big to belong to a student", he explained, "which leads me to ask, for I truly can't help myself, professor - Why? What in marlin's name compelled you to", he stopped to laugh, "shag a filthy hussy like that Granger girl?." Snape scowled at him. "I am certain a man as yourself are capable of finding better wenches"
"That, is none of your business! And I will thank you to find less crude ways to express yourself", he replied, his eyes glittering with menace. "Use your wits, boy, you do not want me as your enemy. Now, I suggest you tell me what you want before I lose my patience."
Draco snickered and smiled but gave a firm nod. "Oh, Professor, it is hard -- like having free rein in a toy store, you know? So difficult to decide, to just pick -one-"
"I do not appreciate being blackmailed! Lay down your price and get out", he growled in a controlled but threatening tone, watching the smug looking boy enjoy this limited power he was offered, clawing at his bony chin, and shuddering in delight.
Snape didn't in most circumstances accept blackmail -- he knew he had enough on both Draco and his father to threaten him in return, and more importantly, Draco was aware of this. Snape could always owl Lucius Malfoy to solve the issue, but that would lead to more complications, and simply take too much time with far too many uncomfortable questions to be answered. Both being Slytherins, they knew the game very well indeed, and he drew the line at becoming a plaything for Draco's amusement. Best to get the deal over and done with straight away, so it all could come to a 'pain free' end; this issue had affected him far too long, for his liking.
"My marks are decent enough..", Draco suddenly said, interrupting Snape's train of thought. "Mmm, maybe Potter's head on a plate? Seeing him failing his classes, would be such a delight, or better -- expelled!" Now the boy's eyes were gleaming with pleasure.
"Don't be ludicrous; if I had the authority to rid the school of Potter, he would have been gone before the end of his first year."
Draco wobbled his head left and right contemplating this fact, before a most hideous smirk shifted across his bony face.
"Then I want a show", he spoke softly, leaning over the desk.
A show?", Snape asked, rising a brow..
"Oh yes, a little entertainment to liven up your oh-so thrilling class.."
"What in Merlin's name are you going on about?!"
"Granger, I want to see her humiliated!", Draco continued in the silky soft whisper, grinning like a madman.
Snape gave a snort. "And you don't think I am doing a sufficient job of that already?"
"Well professor, though it is, mm, *entertaining*, I wondered if you could liven it up for me, just once. It is but a small request, but all I desire for the time being -- I want to see Granger cry!"
Driven by boredom, Draco was determined to get his show, even if he had to threaten Snape into performing; to his dismay though, Snape had flatly rejected his offer and threatened to take it up with his father instead, refusing to be made a mockery of. Draco had carefully informed him that with his father in the ministry, Snape should instead worry about Lucius discovering the truth, since it could cost him a bit more then some self- respect.
All in all, Snape had bellowed that he wanted the boy out of his office immediately, and elegantly Draco had gotten up to leave, giving the man to the end of the week to please him or the evidence would fall in to more willing hands.
**@**
Hermione stood in the centre of her bedroom, playing an old vinyl of 'The Sorcerer' that she had come across wile scavenging through some second-hand shops in her neighbourhood. Ron was glaring at Harry with a confused expression
"Do you like it?", Hermione asked, waving a finger in mid air like a conductor, "It was written in 1877, it is all about this clergyman, that gets convinced that in marriage lies the secret of human bliss, and orders a love-potion to be made from a real wizard of the time. He serves it to the whole of the village, but everybody falls passionately in love with the wrong person, and the moral of the story is that nature is better then science at choosing and predicting the right partner" she explained, swaying her hips back and forth to the music.
"Right..", Ron said, utterly uninterested and eager to get up. Both boys were used to her lecturing them on various subjects, school related, or not, and had come to learn that it was less painful and by far more effective to just make their excuses and leave.
"What about you Harry?", she asked. The boy who had occupied himself by looking at the Quidditch pitch which was currently soaked through with rain, shook his shoulders indifferently.
"I have heard it before, Aunt Petunia is an huge fan of Gilbert and Sullivan -- she even wants Dudley to perform in the local amateur group". He smiled impishly; "I wonder what she would say if I told her that Gilbert was really a wizard!"
"Well I think the woman sounds like a shrieking Banshee to me!", Ron snorted with amusement. "Do they have to howl like that to each other, or is one of the characters deaf?"
Hermione frowned at Ron. "Well, you should try to get an appreciation for the finer arts", she preached, "even Professor Snape happens to think it is good".
Harry jerked around at this, but Ron was the first to speak
"Oh he does, does he? Well yet another reason why I don't plan to stick about and listen to this rubbish", he replied grouchy. "I am hungry, going down to the kitchen to get a bite, can I bring you anything?"
Hermione shook her head, "Bed time, and it should be for you two, also! We have an early class tomorrow!"
"Sure", he replied indifferently.. "Coming Harry?"
Harry seemed hesitant; he wanted to ask Hermione about the connection between her sudden interest in 'The Sorcerer' and Snape, but couldn't come up with the appropriate question -- so he said good night, and with Ron in the lead, both boys trotted out of her room.
With the boys gone, she put the record away, cleared her desk and prepared her school bags for tomorrow. Her first lesson was 'Care of Magical Creatures' with Hagrid, so she knew she would need to carve her initials in to a cucumber for their lesson on Kappas. It was a highly dangerous Japanese water demon, and who would possibly want one as a pet, she couldn't imagine; but Hagrid never seemed to teach them about creatures that any other than he would consider owning.. She also had her suspicions on how one had 'accidentally' appeared in the school pond, just days before their first lesson.
As she stood there carving over her bathroom sink, she couldn't help but look up and in to the mirror smiling to herself, noticing how for the first day since that unfortunate event, nothing related with night of Halloween had come up. "It is going to be alright..", she told her reflection in a half whisper; "of course it will, dear", replied the enchanted mirror. "After tonight, there will be no more issues involving last Saturday", she said more confidently; "I am certain there won't, dear", answered the mirror in its normal cheerful voice. And so she dropped the cucumber scrapings into the bin under the sink, got the remaining potion out, and prepared for bed.
**@**
It was nearly two o'clock at night when she awoke abruptly with a desperate need to visit the toilet. She felt unusually sore between her legs, more so then she had the morning before, and she rolled out of bed and rushed in to the small bathroom. She felt no relief; instead a most agonising pain came over her as she sat there, and as she pulled her knickers and pyjama trousers up, she noticed that the urine was clear as water, hazy in colour and had a strong yeast like stench. She flushed and pulled herself into her room, leaning against the wall as each movement she made seemed to contribute to the increasing pain.
Along with a most horrendous stomach cramp, which caused her to crouch forward and clutch her abdomen, she felt bruised, cut, on the inside, near her cervix, which burned and stung with repetitive stabs of pain that increased when attempting to move her legs.
"It hurts!" she cried to the air, a hand clasping around her privates sinking to the floor, "Oh god, it hurt!" she twitching wile again she was overwhelmed with a stab of intense agony. She needed help; in desperation, despite each motion felling like a lick of flames up between her legs, she still manoeuvred toward the door, stumbling and half sliding down the staircase that wound past the boy's accommodation.
Leaning on the door to Harry and Ron's room, she knocked firmly while resting against the wall, building up the strength to continue. She got no reply, so she turned the handle and stumbled in, standing in the middle of the room, twitching.
"Help me, please.. I.. hurt.. so.. much", she cried.
Ron had already awoken from noise of the door being brutally slammed open, and squinted in the dark, recognising her as she stood in the dim light from the enchanted torches in the hallway.
"Hermione?", he asked, "is that you?". Harry had awoken now as well, and he sat up in bed, reaching for his glasses.
"I am in *so much* pain", she whimpered, sinking to her knees, clutching the lower part of her stomach.
"What happened..", Ron leaped along with Harry out of bed and over to her side
"Are you okay?"
"The.. potion, it has to be the potion..", she whispered, before twitching and letting out another aggravating cry, overwhelmed by another shot of pain.
"What potion?!" asked Ron, but Harry pressed past him; "where does it hurt?", he questioned calmly, crouching down before her. Lightly embarrassed she looked the boy in the eyes and said in a controlled voice, trembling with pain.
"My vagina, it burns", her eyes squeezed shut, and she made a quiet gasp: "it hurts.. a.. l.. lot"
"Ah..", Harry cleared his throat. Ron stepped in; "what POTION!?"
"It is something Snape gave her!", he half snapped at Ron irritated, before he turned to Hermione who was in convulsions. "Should I get Madam Pomfrey?",
"Snape? What did he give her? What is going on here?!?!" Ron protested, quite distorted and furious, balling his fists.
Hermione still trembling and opening her mouth to let out another gasp, whimpered in a voice hardly audible: "n.. no, take me to Snape.."
"Are you sure.. I think Madam Pomfry should kno-"
"PLEASE! Take me to Snape!" Hermione cried, her words emphasised by her agony. Both boys glared at her in shock.
Harry turned to Ron, who stood dumbstruck, watching the two. Contemplating this, he shifted his gaze from the redhead to the suffering girl, before uttering a surrendering sigh; he nodded his head softly and said, "All right.. if you think it is best."
He rose to his feet and collected his wand from his bedside table, and pointed it at her.
"Harry..-?" Hermione whimpered, but before she finished the sentence she had been hit by a sleep charm, and fell against the hard wood floor with a soft thud.
"Why did you do that for?", asked Ron, confused, as he moved over to straighten out her head and limbs from their uncomfortable positions.
"We can't get her down to the dungeon unseen in the stage she is currently in", he replied, walking to his wardrobe to collect a set of robes. "We would wake the whole castle!!"
"You are not seriously considering taking her to Snape, are you?"
Ron lifted her head into his lap, and brushed a few strands of cinnamon brown hair from her sweaty forehead. "What did he do to her?"
He stroke her temple gently; "I have never seen her like this before.."
"Listen Ron, I will tell you all about it later, but now we really have to hurry..", he replied, buttoning up his robe and giving the redhead a puzzled look at the way he was stroking her.
Ron peered up at him with a firm expression. "I want to know Harry! I am bloody tired of the two of you sneakin' about with your secrets! I am not goin' anywhere until you tell me exactly what has happend to 'er!". He lay her head gently down on the floor and got up, facing Harry with his arms crossed before his chest.
"We don't have time, Ron! It is a long story, I'll tell you all about it later, I promise!", said Harry impatiently, fetching his invisibility cloak from the bottom of his bed chest. "Now we must get her to Snape! We don't know how bad this really is." He threw the charmed cloak down. "Here.. cover her."
A reluctant Ron wrapped the cloak about her small figure, and got dressed. Running ahead as he had done so often in the past with the Marauder's Map, he made certain the coast was clear for Harry, and for Hermione who was currently under a Mobilicorpus spell, to make their way down the many stairs to the basement of the castle. Luckily, Filch and Mrs. Norris remained in their office, not seeming to stir, until they reached the door of Snape's private sleeping quarters.
Ron gave the door a firm knock.
***
Finally I have come to a part that will be fun to write.. *yawn* I am very sleepy
dedbabydoll: A slapper is British for slut/tart slapper as in.. a person that gets slapped a lot between her legs with other peoples hips to be a bit more specific.
sweetpea: that you, I am going to post shorter chapters in the future and hopefully it will mean I can update sooner..
tropix: Well yes.. she might take her time, but I do give her very long chapters, most of them are around 6 pages long..
Penultimate Pentippelpus: Takk skal du ha, jeg tror det ikke er mange gutter der ute some skriver Snape/Hermione fortellinger.
(Thank you very much, I don't think there are many boys out there that write Snape/Hermione stories)
I seem to get mostly people with English as a second language reading my story.. hmm that is nifty though *smiles*
Hopefully my English will get better now that I am starting to write about stuff I actually find fun..