Anti-lawyer spell: Only borrowing, not making any money with it, promise to
return ( although condition should have improved no guarantee is given).
Please review in abundance, it's the only thing that keeps me going. If there are any beta readers who wouldn't mind giving some constructive crits I would really appreciate it.
Summary: Sometimes dreams can become reality, the problem is deciding which ones and when that line has been crossed. A Snape and Hermione story which may change rating, depending upon the reviews and bunnies.
Thankyou for the reviews, promise to keep the word count up from now on. Will update regularly.especially if bunnies are well fed.hint hint ;o)
The journey to work was uneventful, she lived close enough to walk, weaving through the crowds of muggles to enter the non descript building which housed the Ministry of Magic. Smiling at the auror on guard she wandered to her lab in a daze, scuffing her feet along the floor, her mind drifting to the mark on her neck and its implications.
Upon entering the lab she pulled on a white robe, similar to her school robes in style, and nodding distractedly at her colleagues she sat at her desk, hands laid quietly on the pile of paperwork which seemed to greet her each morning.
"Did you want a coffee Hermione? You look half wake honey." A friendly witch called, clapping Hermione on the shoulder on her way to a large tea trolley which stood in the corner of the lab. Hermione jumped, scattering paperwork across her desk and bringing her back to Earth in a second. "I , uhm..I'm fine thanks." She called. "Just tired, not enough sleep."
"Who's the lucky guy?" said the witch, leering in Hermione's direction. "Come on tell, you never said anything about a boyfriend before."
Hermione smiled warmly, she liked Cassandra Crump, she was always genial, never in a bad mood and was very good at her job.
"It's no-one. I swear!" she said in protest as Cassandra's eyebrows rose speculatively.
"I just had a dream and it upset my sleep." she finished lamely
"Oh!, that kind of dream" Cassandra's leer now filled her whole face, she sauntered back to Hermione's desk and propped her ample frame against it whilst stirring her tea.
"No!" Hermione protested, just a little too vehemently. "No, I just couldn't sleep after the dream. I don't remember what it was about or anything, it was just ..well, it was disturbing." She looked up at her friend, worry filling her eyes and saw, to her relief, a motherly look replace the leer.
"Oh", she said all innuendo gone from her tone. "I know what you mean. Maybe you need a holiday sweetie? Wouldn't be before time you know."
A door slammed and Cassandra rose from her slouched position on Hermione's desk in one graceful movement, to greet her supervisor as he arrived and make her way back to her desk.
The rest of day went well, filled with questions and queries from the rest of the team, filled with the mind numbing tedium that working for the Ministry seemed to ensure. At first she had been very happy to take up the position of under supervisor magical artefacts research management officer, but now it was simply a case of shuffling the endless supply of paperwork across her ever untidy desk. She was bored.
Maybe, she thought, maybe that it why I am dreaming. Maybe the mark is just the psychosomatic symptoms of a bored magical mind with too much time on its metaphorical hands. Maybe, she thought, maybe.
Sleep was impossible, the bed was never comfortable, her mind whirred with a thousand different ideas and thoughts. Anything to keep the dream away, anything to make it happen again. God, she thought, I have no idea what I want from this, I can't even dream in peace. Angrily she turned over onto her side, closed her eyes and relaxed into a determined sleep. She wanted to remember this time. She needed to know the dreame, for her own sanity.
sssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssss
She seemed to slide into the room, where there was once an empty space there was now Hermione, standing nonchalantly, before sauntering across the room and confidently reaching for the handle of the door. The sleeping part of her reached forward, eager to learn the secret of the unconscious wanderer, longing to know the truth, urging her dream self to hurry and enter the darkened room beyond the now open door.
She awoke, fears cold fingers clutching at her mind. Where was she? Eyes darting around the cold room reassured her that she was home, she was safe. She had dreamed again, that much at least she could remember. Images flashed unbidden across her brain, the initial room, the door, a dark room beyond seemingly clouded by a thick veil of gauzy black. No clear images, mainly smells, feelings, sensations that felt so familiar to her. It was not enough, not enough to satisfy her curiosity, not enough to allow her to identify the man she dreamt of. She needed to remember.
Coffee, work, Cassandra, lunch, work, home, routine. Throughout the day she relived minute pieces of her nocturnal adventure, the smell of sage and sandalwood, the feel of large graceful hands stroking across her skin of her back, and the satisfaction, the euphoria that only he could bring. She knew exactly where the mark had come from, she thought, blushing furiously, she now needed to know who put it there.
Cassandra watched her, noticing how quiet the already quiet girl had become. Lost in a world of her own, she occasionally blushed, the odd whispered conversation with herself, the occasional coughing fit which disguised a gasp made out loud. Whatever was occupying her mind, it seemed interesting. Cassandra watched and worried, hoping that Hermione could sort it all out herself.. although not before supplying the juicy details of course.
Her days seemed to be getting in the way, she mused. Her mind was totally preoccupied; all she thought about was him. When it was finally time to go home she gathered her coat and practically ran from the lab, nodding her goodbyes and waving as she hurried home, hurried back to him.
Sleep took her and the room materialised again. Dark, no candles lit, no fire burning despite the chill which pervaded the room. No moon shone through the large window, but dark shadows hinted of the presence of large pieces of furniture, of book shelves lining the walls. She walked towards the bedroom door, drawn like a moth to the flame of his presence. Hand trembling upon the handle, she opened the door into the room beyond.
Please review in abundance, it's the only thing that keeps me going. If there are any beta readers who wouldn't mind giving some constructive crits I would really appreciate it.
Summary: Sometimes dreams can become reality, the problem is deciding which ones and when that line has been crossed. A Snape and Hermione story which may change rating, depending upon the reviews and bunnies.
Thankyou for the reviews, promise to keep the word count up from now on. Will update regularly.especially if bunnies are well fed.hint hint ;o)
The journey to work was uneventful, she lived close enough to walk, weaving through the crowds of muggles to enter the non descript building which housed the Ministry of Magic. Smiling at the auror on guard she wandered to her lab in a daze, scuffing her feet along the floor, her mind drifting to the mark on her neck and its implications.
Upon entering the lab she pulled on a white robe, similar to her school robes in style, and nodding distractedly at her colleagues she sat at her desk, hands laid quietly on the pile of paperwork which seemed to greet her each morning.
"Did you want a coffee Hermione? You look half wake honey." A friendly witch called, clapping Hermione on the shoulder on her way to a large tea trolley which stood in the corner of the lab. Hermione jumped, scattering paperwork across her desk and bringing her back to Earth in a second. "I , uhm..I'm fine thanks." She called. "Just tired, not enough sleep."
"Who's the lucky guy?" said the witch, leering in Hermione's direction. "Come on tell, you never said anything about a boyfriend before."
Hermione smiled warmly, she liked Cassandra Crump, she was always genial, never in a bad mood and was very good at her job.
"It's no-one. I swear!" she said in protest as Cassandra's eyebrows rose speculatively.
"I just had a dream and it upset my sleep." she finished lamely
"Oh!, that kind of dream" Cassandra's leer now filled her whole face, she sauntered back to Hermione's desk and propped her ample frame against it whilst stirring her tea.
"No!" Hermione protested, just a little too vehemently. "No, I just couldn't sleep after the dream. I don't remember what it was about or anything, it was just ..well, it was disturbing." She looked up at her friend, worry filling her eyes and saw, to her relief, a motherly look replace the leer.
"Oh", she said all innuendo gone from her tone. "I know what you mean. Maybe you need a holiday sweetie? Wouldn't be before time you know."
A door slammed and Cassandra rose from her slouched position on Hermione's desk in one graceful movement, to greet her supervisor as he arrived and make her way back to her desk.
The rest of day went well, filled with questions and queries from the rest of the team, filled with the mind numbing tedium that working for the Ministry seemed to ensure. At first she had been very happy to take up the position of under supervisor magical artefacts research management officer, but now it was simply a case of shuffling the endless supply of paperwork across her ever untidy desk. She was bored.
Maybe, she thought, maybe that it why I am dreaming. Maybe the mark is just the psychosomatic symptoms of a bored magical mind with too much time on its metaphorical hands. Maybe, she thought, maybe.
Sleep was impossible, the bed was never comfortable, her mind whirred with a thousand different ideas and thoughts. Anything to keep the dream away, anything to make it happen again. God, she thought, I have no idea what I want from this, I can't even dream in peace. Angrily she turned over onto her side, closed her eyes and relaxed into a determined sleep. She wanted to remember this time. She needed to know the dreame, for her own sanity.
sssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssss
She seemed to slide into the room, where there was once an empty space there was now Hermione, standing nonchalantly, before sauntering across the room and confidently reaching for the handle of the door. The sleeping part of her reached forward, eager to learn the secret of the unconscious wanderer, longing to know the truth, urging her dream self to hurry and enter the darkened room beyond the now open door.
She awoke, fears cold fingers clutching at her mind. Where was she? Eyes darting around the cold room reassured her that she was home, she was safe. She had dreamed again, that much at least she could remember. Images flashed unbidden across her brain, the initial room, the door, a dark room beyond seemingly clouded by a thick veil of gauzy black. No clear images, mainly smells, feelings, sensations that felt so familiar to her. It was not enough, not enough to satisfy her curiosity, not enough to allow her to identify the man she dreamt of. She needed to remember.
Coffee, work, Cassandra, lunch, work, home, routine. Throughout the day she relived minute pieces of her nocturnal adventure, the smell of sage and sandalwood, the feel of large graceful hands stroking across her skin of her back, and the satisfaction, the euphoria that only he could bring. She knew exactly where the mark had come from, she thought, blushing furiously, she now needed to know who put it there.
Cassandra watched her, noticing how quiet the already quiet girl had become. Lost in a world of her own, she occasionally blushed, the odd whispered conversation with herself, the occasional coughing fit which disguised a gasp made out loud. Whatever was occupying her mind, it seemed interesting. Cassandra watched and worried, hoping that Hermione could sort it all out herself.. although not before supplying the juicy details of course.
Her days seemed to be getting in the way, she mused. Her mind was totally preoccupied; all she thought about was him. When it was finally time to go home she gathered her coat and practically ran from the lab, nodding her goodbyes and waving as she hurried home, hurried back to him.
Sleep took her and the room materialised again. Dark, no candles lit, no fire burning despite the chill which pervaded the room. No moon shone through the large window, but dark shadows hinted of the presence of large pieces of furniture, of book shelves lining the walls. She walked towards the bedroom door, drawn like a moth to the flame of his presence. Hand trembling upon the handle, she opened the door into the room beyond.