Disclaimer - see part 1.
Author's notes - THANK YOU, thank you, thank you!!!!!!!!! I appreciate all your comments and encouragement.
--------------------------------
Wizards Honour
Part 12
--------------------------------
Ilaurio whistled a cheerful tune as he meandered up the path to the tiny house. He rang the bell that hung from a tree near the door.
The curtains in the front window moved.
Ilaurio waved and called, "Signora Snape, someone has sent you a present." He put a small wooden box on the ground by the tree. "Merry Christmas, Signora!" He waved at the gap in the curtain and wandered away, whistling the same cheerful tune.
The young man was out of sight of the cottage when the front door of the tiny house opened and a very elderly lady stepped out into the garden. If Neville Longbottom had seen Medusa Snape he would have thought that the Boggart he and his class had destroyed in his third year at Hogwarts had moved to Sicili.
Dressed in a long, old-fashioned dark blue dress and a large navy blue hat and the wearing sneer she'd bequeathed to three generations of Snapes along with her hooked nose, Medusa Snape prowled over to the wooden box.
She prodded the wooden box with her walking stick. Nothing remarkable happened. This was concerning as the box bore her great-grandson's handwriting. Medusa wondered what fiendish trick he'd decided to play on her after the poison pen episode.
The old witch considered her options. She could call Ilaurio and ask him to open the box. No, that would not do. She quite liked the young Medi-wizard and would rather not lose his trust.
She could, she supposed, send for the local Aurors or one of the retirement village's orderlies but damaging Aurors and orderlies would cause a fuss and she would not like to be thrown out of this retirement village too.
No, Medusa decided, she would have to do this herself.
The old witch stepped well clear of the box and fired an opening spell at it. The seal on top of the box curled back and the box fell open with a thud.
"Happy Christmas," cheered three tiny, shrill voices. Three Cornish Pixies shot out of the box and jumped onto her hat. They danced the Macarena around the brim while Medusa swore fiercely at them, using words that would put Mad-Eye Moody to shame.
She didn't think they could get any cuter when they began to sing, squeakily, "Deck the witch with Christmas lights, fa la la la la la la la la."
Growling, Medusa swiped her wand at the chewed and broken string of tree-lights the Pixies were trying to wrap around her ears and nose. With another swipe of her wand and a few very clearly enunciated words, Medusa popped the Pixies back into the box and resealed it.
It was then that she noticed the slightly mangled note lying on the ground. It had fallen out of the box when it was opened.
Unwilling to touch the paper, Medusa levitated the note and flicked it open with the lazy ease of someone with over a hundred year's magical experience.
"Dear Great-Grandmother Medusa," she read.
"You complained that you missed three years of Christmas and Birthday greetings. I am sure the occupants of this box will provide you with ample entertainment on both occasions.
"Thank you for signing the contract. I will not forget it. Severus."
Medusa scowled Snapishly at the letter. What did the boy mean 'I will not forget it'? Was he threatening her, he thanking her or being sarcastic?
Wishing that Severus wasn't so like her late husband and son, both of whom could confuse her daily, Medusa slipped the note into the small string bag that hung from her belt.
"I can not wait until his birthday to get even," Medusa said quietly, "that's eleven months away." An idea occurred to her and she smiled wickedly, "But Valentine's Day is only seven weeks away."
~~~~~~~
"So, is your bride as bad as 'The Daily Prophet' would have us believe, Severus?" Lucius Malfoy asked in a smarmy and insincere drawl. "Or is she worse?"
Snape glowered at the untouched contents of his goblet then replied, coldly, "Whatever I say will amuse you Lucius so I shall say nothing."
Malfoy glared at the younger man and thought of one of the many ways he could rid himself of Snape. He allowed himself a few moments of silent enjoyment before he extinguished any idea of killing someone as useful as the Potions Master. Malfoy knew that when he succeeded in taking over Voldemort's empire he'd need the skills of an expert poisoner and there were few poisoners alive who were as good as Snape.
While the power-hungry Malfoy was thinking this, Snape was wondering why he had bothered to answer the summons to Malfoy's estate on Christmas Day. It seemed to Severus that he'd been summoned to relieve Malfoy's boredom. Aside the wine, which Snape wasn't going to drink in case it had been poisoned, all Snape had received in the three hours since he had arrived was an earful of 'when I rule the world' rambling and a lot of insults.
Ten minutes later Lucius finished another mad daydream, this one involving himself and the reinvention of the title Caesar, and sipped his wine again. He finally noticed that Snape wasn't drinking and began to wonder if the wine had been poisoned.
"What are you up to?" Malfoy demanded hotly.
"Chestnuts," Snape murmured.
"What?"
Snape blinked as his own daydream of a breakfast of roasted chestnuts followed by a Hogwarts Christmas Luncheon and a mostly-sane conversation with Albus Dumbledore disappeared from his mind.
"Nothing important. Just last Christmas." Snape sneered in what he hoped was a convincing fashion and gulped a mouthful of wine. "Merlin's teeth," he thought, "I hope that wasn't poisoned."
"You may go now," replied Malfoy, relieved that Snape had drunk some wine and probably hadn't poisoned him. Malfoy continued speaking, his tone giving Snape the impression of a King dismissing a flea, "I have important guests arriving this afternoon and I don't want you sulking around."
"Thank you so much, Your High-and-Mighty Ego-ness," thought Snape while he said, coldly, "Of course." Snape walked into the garden and apparated. It wasn't long before he reapparated outside the gates at Hogwarts.
With shaking hands, Snape pulled a bottle of all-purpose anti-poison potion and took a swig. It wasn't a strong cure but if he had been poisoned it should take the edge off it.
From the gates Snape could see some of the students who had stayed over Christmas walking in the castle grounds. He knew then that he'd missed Christmas lunch and suddenly he couldn't face the idea of being near all that Christmas cheer.
At that moment he wanted something or someone to yell at and some hot food. Only one person came to mind.
~~~~~~~
Aurora sat on the old bed in her room in her uncle's cottage and read the Revocation of Wizards Honour Contract form for the ninth time. She had to admit it; her plan was no good. She couldn't stop the contract without the details from the contract scroll and Severus' signature.
"Darn it," she threw herself onto her back on the bed. It creaked in protest but she ignored it and stared at the ceiling.
"This should be so easy." She sighed melodramatically, "Why isn't anything ever easy?"
"Aurora!" Edgar bellowed from downstairs.
"Yes, Uncle?" Aurora yelled back while she rolled up the form and tucked it into her sleeve.
"You have a visitor."
Aurora didn't like the quiver of fear she heard in her Uncle's bellow. She drew her wand and quickly left the room. She hurried downstairs and charged into the little parlour.
Professor Snape was seated in her uncle's chair and was eating one of the chestnuts that had been roasting on the edge of the fire.
Aurora relaxed and said firmly to her uncle, "It's only Professor Snape. From the way you were yelling I thought Voldemort and all his cronies were having a party in here."
Edgar spluttered at her use of The Name but said nothing.
"No," Snape said, dryly, "the party's the week after next."
Aurora collapsed into giggles at the thought and at the relief of having someone to talk to who wouldn't ply her with rich food and budgie tales. She was laughing so hard that the parchment she had shoved up her sleeve fell loose and floated to the floor.
"What's that?" Edgar asked, coming out of his stupor.
"Just a bit of scrap parchment," Aurora replied airily.
Snape grabbed the parchment before Sinistra could summon it to her. He read the title and noted that Aurora had completed most of it. Snape wasn't sure it he should be pleased or angry that she'd shown the initiative to contact the Ministry.
"Yes, just a bit of rubbish." Snape tossed the parchment onto the fire and watched it burn.
To be continued
Author's notes - THANK YOU, thank you, thank you!!!!!!!!! I appreciate all your comments and encouragement.
--------------------------------
Wizards Honour
Part 12
--------------------------------
Ilaurio whistled a cheerful tune as he meandered up the path to the tiny house. He rang the bell that hung from a tree near the door.
The curtains in the front window moved.
Ilaurio waved and called, "Signora Snape, someone has sent you a present." He put a small wooden box on the ground by the tree. "Merry Christmas, Signora!" He waved at the gap in the curtain and wandered away, whistling the same cheerful tune.
The young man was out of sight of the cottage when the front door of the tiny house opened and a very elderly lady stepped out into the garden. If Neville Longbottom had seen Medusa Snape he would have thought that the Boggart he and his class had destroyed in his third year at Hogwarts had moved to Sicili.
Dressed in a long, old-fashioned dark blue dress and a large navy blue hat and the wearing sneer she'd bequeathed to three generations of Snapes along with her hooked nose, Medusa Snape prowled over to the wooden box.
She prodded the wooden box with her walking stick. Nothing remarkable happened. This was concerning as the box bore her great-grandson's handwriting. Medusa wondered what fiendish trick he'd decided to play on her after the poison pen episode.
The old witch considered her options. She could call Ilaurio and ask him to open the box. No, that would not do. She quite liked the young Medi-wizard and would rather not lose his trust.
She could, she supposed, send for the local Aurors or one of the retirement village's orderlies but damaging Aurors and orderlies would cause a fuss and she would not like to be thrown out of this retirement village too.
No, Medusa decided, she would have to do this herself.
The old witch stepped well clear of the box and fired an opening spell at it. The seal on top of the box curled back and the box fell open with a thud.
"Happy Christmas," cheered three tiny, shrill voices. Three Cornish Pixies shot out of the box and jumped onto her hat. They danced the Macarena around the brim while Medusa swore fiercely at them, using words that would put Mad-Eye Moody to shame.
She didn't think they could get any cuter when they began to sing, squeakily, "Deck the witch with Christmas lights, fa la la la la la la la la."
Growling, Medusa swiped her wand at the chewed and broken string of tree-lights the Pixies were trying to wrap around her ears and nose. With another swipe of her wand and a few very clearly enunciated words, Medusa popped the Pixies back into the box and resealed it.
It was then that she noticed the slightly mangled note lying on the ground. It had fallen out of the box when it was opened.
Unwilling to touch the paper, Medusa levitated the note and flicked it open with the lazy ease of someone with over a hundred year's magical experience.
"Dear Great-Grandmother Medusa," she read.
"You complained that you missed three years of Christmas and Birthday greetings. I am sure the occupants of this box will provide you with ample entertainment on both occasions.
"Thank you for signing the contract. I will not forget it. Severus."
Medusa scowled Snapishly at the letter. What did the boy mean 'I will not forget it'? Was he threatening her, he thanking her or being sarcastic?
Wishing that Severus wasn't so like her late husband and son, both of whom could confuse her daily, Medusa slipped the note into the small string bag that hung from her belt.
"I can not wait until his birthday to get even," Medusa said quietly, "that's eleven months away." An idea occurred to her and she smiled wickedly, "But Valentine's Day is only seven weeks away."
~~~~~~~
"So, is your bride as bad as 'The Daily Prophet' would have us believe, Severus?" Lucius Malfoy asked in a smarmy and insincere drawl. "Or is she worse?"
Snape glowered at the untouched contents of his goblet then replied, coldly, "Whatever I say will amuse you Lucius so I shall say nothing."
Malfoy glared at the younger man and thought of one of the many ways he could rid himself of Snape. He allowed himself a few moments of silent enjoyment before he extinguished any idea of killing someone as useful as the Potions Master. Malfoy knew that when he succeeded in taking over Voldemort's empire he'd need the skills of an expert poisoner and there were few poisoners alive who were as good as Snape.
While the power-hungry Malfoy was thinking this, Snape was wondering why he had bothered to answer the summons to Malfoy's estate on Christmas Day. It seemed to Severus that he'd been summoned to relieve Malfoy's boredom. Aside the wine, which Snape wasn't going to drink in case it had been poisoned, all Snape had received in the three hours since he had arrived was an earful of 'when I rule the world' rambling and a lot of insults.
Ten minutes later Lucius finished another mad daydream, this one involving himself and the reinvention of the title Caesar, and sipped his wine again. He finally noticed that Snape wasn't drinking and began to wonder if the wine had been poisoned.
"What are you up to?" Malfoy demanded hotly.
"Chestnuts," Snape murmured.
"What?"
Snape blinked as his own daydream of a breakfast of roasted chestnuts followed by a Hogwarts Christmas Luncheon and a mostly-sane conversation with Albus Dumbledore disappeared from his mind.
"Nothing important. Just last Christmas." Snape sneered in what he hoped was a convincing fashion and gulped a mouthful of wine. "Merlin's teeth," he thought, "I hope that wasn't poisoned."
"You may go now," replied Malfoy, relieved that Snape had drunk some wine and probably hadn't poisoned him. Malfoy continued speaking, his tone giving Snape the impression of a King dismissing a flea, "I have important guests arriving this afternoon and I don't want you sulking around."
"Thank you so much, Your High-and-Mighty Ego-ness," thought Snape while he said, coldly, "Of course." Snape walked into the garden and apparated. It wasn't long before he reapparated outside the gates at Hogwarts.
With shaking hands, Snape pulled a bottle of all-purpose anti-poison potion and took a swig. It wasn't a strong cure but if he had been poisoned it should take the edge off it.
From the gates Snape could see some of the students who had stayed over Christmas walking in the castle grounds. He knew then that he'd missed Christmas lunch and suddenly he couldn't face the idea of being near all that Christmas cheer.
At that moment he wanted something or someone to yell at and some hot food. Only one person came to mind.
~~~~~~~
Aurora sat on the old bed in her room in her uncle's cottage and read the Revocation of Wizards Honour Contract form for the ninth time. She had to admit it; her plan was no good. She couldn't stop the contract without the details from the contract scroll and Severus' signature.
"Darn it," she threw herself onto her back on the bed. It creaked in protest but she ignored it and stared at the ceiling.
"This should be so easy." She sighed melodramatically, "Why isn't anything ever easy?"
"Aurora!" Edgar bellowed from downstairs.
"Yes, Uncle?" Aurora yelled back while she rolled up the form and tucked it into her sleeve.
"You have a visitor."
Aurora didn't like the quiver of fear she heard in her Uncle's bellow. She drew her wand and quickly left the room. She hurried downstairs and charged into the little parlour.
Professor Snape was seated in her uncle's chair and was eating one of the chestnuts that had been roasting on the edge of the fire.
Aurora relaxed and said firmly to her uncle, "It's only Professor Snape. From the way you were yelling I thought Voldemort and all his cronies were having a party in here."
Edgar spluttered at her use of The Name but said nothing.
"No," Snape said, dryly, "the party's the week after next."
Aurora collapsed into giggles at the thought and at the relief of having someone to talk to who wouldn't ply her with rich food and budgie tales. She was laughing so hard that the parchment she had shoved up her sleeve fell loose and floated to the floor.
"What's that?" Edgar asked, coming out of his stupor.
"Just a bit of scrap parchment," Aurora replied airily.
Snape grabbed the parchment before Sinistra could summon it to her. He read the title and noted that Aurora had completed most of it. Snape wasn't sure it he should be pleased or angry that she'd shown the initiative to contact the Ministry.
"Yes, just a bit of rubbish." Snape tossed the parchment onto the fire and watched it burn.
To be continued