Restart by flax
JK Rowling owns the characters. They're only in this daydream for my profitless romp. :)
CHAPTER FIVE: Every garden needs a garden snake, yes?
It is commonly known to be true that all gardens in possession of a rock border must be in want of a garden snake, so this narrator assumes that all roads lead to Carthage, three wrongs do make a song, and romance must be in the air. It's that or the pretty sent of the early daffodils. However, from Granger's perspective, when someone got in her sun, she immediately wondered what it was about Snape that he had to occult her pleasant baking. She'd expected a return when large, warm, fuzzy Crookshanks had reclaimed her back and shoulders as if she was the pillow and it was bedtime.
So with her ginger colored friend sprawled to her shadow, the other shadow caster couldn't be him. He flopped down. 'Repetition,' thought Granger, but this time it was different. He had neither fainted nor begun to slither.
"Needs more rocks," he muttered.
"So are you poisonous or a constrictor?" asked Granger conversationally, putting aside the spade.
"I'm not a snake at all," he mentioned.
Granger laughed. ('Do that again,' he thought.)
"So this green snake that only shows up when you're gone - he's some other visitor?"
"Snake is what I do. Not what I am. Though I would add that if warming myself on a rock in your garden was the extent of my snaking, I'd have had a much better life."
"And it was ok having your around."
"Hissing at the breeze?"
"I can't do the world anymore."
'My world?' he thought. 'It's not mine.' He answered her early question: "Poisonous."
"What?"
"Poorly timed answer to your earlier question. To you, I'd be poison. To Voldemort and Lucius, I was constriction."
"I don't feel anymore. Even fear."
"Tell me about it." He actually meant it.
Granger looked him over before looking blankly at the horizon. And then gathering her stuff and wandering inside. She glared at Snape who wandered in and set himself a place at the table.
"Are you better?" she asked.
"Better." he answered.
"Good. Get lost then."
Snape blinked and then took himself out. Granger was surprised that anyone listened to her. But it was somehow reassuring. But soon after her silence did not remember him.
In the morning, Snape manor had moved closer, practically sharing a border. Previously there had been a forest and hills.
The next day, Granger found she shared a stone fence with the manor grounds. But at least the field was wide and swank between Granger and the manor.
The third morning, Hermione found herself looking at neighbors: people whose houses imagined themselves in the shadow of the martyr's manor. Pleasant people, probably, but Hermione found it odd to be around the sound of people.
With the following day, there came a mail delivery. Apparently Snape thought she needed a subscription to "Potions and Praxis."
Grumpy, she gave up and read it that morning, sitting in her garden. With, to her annoyance, a green snake on the rock wall, playing dangerously with Crooshanks. When he wouldn't read she ignored him. Then Crookshanks started teasing. Then she ignored them both.
There was quite a thump. Snape had fallen off the wall. Granger did check him for injuries, not that they seemed likely. The snake kept trying to curl around her arms as she looked him over. And if snakes could smile, this one certainly was. "It was Crookshanks who wanted to play, Professor Snape. I'm just making sure you don't need a medic."
Two eyes looked at her innocently. She'd have none of it, uncurling the tail from her arm again and placing him back on the rock wall. "I really don't know how you managed to be a spy. You're far too cute."
Smug, the snake sprawled on the stones, letting Granger go back to the journal.
tbc...
JK Rowling owns the characters. They're only in this daydream for my profitless romp. :)
CHAPTER FIVE: Every garden needs a garden snake, yes?
It is commonly known to be true that all gardens in possession of a rock border must be in want of a garden snake, so this narrator assumes that all roads lead to Carthage, three wrongs do make a song, and romance must be in the air. It's that or the pretty sent of the early daffodils. However, from Granger's perspective, when someone got in her sun, she immediately wondered what it was about Snape that he had to occult her pleasant baking. She'd expected a return when large, warm, fuzzy Crookshanks had reclaimed her back and shoulders as if she was the pillow and it was bedtime.
So with her ginger colored friend sprawled to her shadow, the other shadow caster couldn't be him. He flopped down. 'Repetition,' thought Granger, but this time it was different. He had neither fainted nor begun to slither.
"Needs more rocks," he muttered.
"So are you poisonous or a constrictor?" asked Granger conversationally, putting aside the spade.
"I'm not a snake at all," he mentioned.
Granger laughed. ('Do that again,' he thought.)
"So this green snake that only shows up when you're gone - he's some other visitor?"
"Snake is what I do. Not what I am. Though I would add that if warming myself on a rock in your garden was the extent of my snaking, I'd have had a much better life."
"And it was ok having your around."
"Hissing at the breeze?"
"I can't do the world anymore."
'My world?' he thought. 'It's not mine.' He answered her early question: "Poisonous."
"What?"
"Poorly timed answer to your earlier question. To you, I'd be poison. To Voldemort and Lucius, I was constriction."
"I don't feel anymore. Even fear."
"Tell me about it." He actually meant it.
Granger looked him over before looking blankly at the horizon. And then gathering her stuff and wandering inside. She glared at Snape who wandered in and set himself a place at the table.
"Are you better?" she asked.
"Better." he answered.
"Good. Get lost then."
Snape blinked and then took himself out. Granger was surprised that anyone listened to her. But it was somehow reassuring. But soon after her silence did not remember him.
In the morning, Snape manor had moved closer, practically sharing a border. Previously there had been a forest and hills.
The next day, Granger found she shared a stone fence with the manor grounds. But at least the field was wide and swank between Granger and the manor.
The third morning, Hermione found herself looking at neighbors: people whose houses imagined themselves in the shadow of the martyr's manor. Pleasant people, probably, but Hermione found it odd to be around the sound of people.
With the following day, there came a mail delivery. Apparently Snape thought she needed a subscription to "Potions and Praxis."
Grumpy, she gave up and read it that morning, sitting in her garden. With, to her annoyance, a green snake on the rock wall, playing dangerously with Crooshanks. When he wouldn't read she ignored him. Then Crookshanks started teasing. Then she ignored them both.
There was quite a thump. Snape had fallen off the wall. Granger did check him for injuries, not that they seemed likely. The snake kept trying to curl around her arms as she looked him over. And if snakes could smile, this one certainly was. "It was Crookshanks who wanted to play, Professor Snape. I'm just making sure you don't need a medic."
Two eyes looked at her innocently. She'd have none of it, uncurling the tail from her arm again and placing him back on the rock wall. "I really don't know how you managed to be a spy. You're far too cute."
Smug, the snake sprawled on the stones, letting Granger go back to the journal.
tbc...