Alrighty-roo.
SlytherinsDarkAngel07 was my superquick reviewer! I would hate to
have a boulder fall on Regina, I rather like her. She's so
deliciously self-serving and evil. None of that humanity crap for
her! Unfortunately, like any archenemy, there are limited options
for what happens to her…and since I don't think she'll be
changing her spots anytime soon, Regina had better go out and get
laid 'cause her prognosis is not good.
Hand3 (aka Danielle,
aka…well you have too many names now): Update fairy is back till
the end of this story and update fairy hearts you! Expect random
updates to appear magically in Inboxes everywhere. Snape was
actually quite nice in that last chapter, mostly because they were in
a one-on-one setting and I wrote in the first chapter that he's
nice one-on-one. In general, I've tried not to make him too nice
or too cruel or too anything, really. In my little world, he's a
just quiet, self-contained person with a serious inability to
interact socially. Sorry if he's not to your liking (shrug) I'll
try to even out the character a bit in later chapters since you
pointed it out.
Tammy: You're back!
How was your mini-break? I like your short, inspiring reviews that
tell me I'm krunk. (grin) I want a shirt that says I'm krunk.
Think I'd get shot?
Avery Goodun: sheepishly I've never seen Highlander, so I'm not completely
sure what you mean…but as long as you like it, I'm happy.
Fiona McKinnon: Well
thank you, my dear. Please keep reviewing.
So my goal is to get more reviews on this than I've ever gotten on a story (so I'm trying to top the 119 I got on Tae Kwon Do)…thus I really appreciate every single one of you that's stopped to review, even if it's just a smiley face.
Right, so, end of
really long A/N, I promise. I continue to faithfully own nothing and
still insist that while I want everyone to enjoy this piece, it's
not supposed to be Shakespeare or anything. Read it for fun, not
life-changing insight!
Here we go…
Aimes
Three hours later, Severus Snape sat in a corner of a coffee shop, drinking tea and pretending to read a newspaper. He watched Hermione to the left of him as she sat at a table across from a blond man and began to speak.
"I received the Harpist," she said with a wry expression.
"I know. And Gina Gray went ballistic and stole it. Doesn't she know that it only works for its owner?"
"She thinks she's got a way 'round that problem, I guess. Look, I wouldn't have gone after the Chord on my own, but I refuse to let that psycho blonde get it."
He looked surprised and excited. "Are you serious? This has been my dream for years! Imagine the money involved! But," his face sobered, "I can't go right now. My mum's in the hospital with cancer."
"Shit, I'm sorry Norman," Hermione said softly. "Is the prognosis bad?"
"Yeah, she's going to die, I think," he replied, face tight. "But she lived a good, happy life, at least."
Hermione nodded. "Norman, I can't wait to go after Gina. She's probably gone by now. Tell me how to find the temple and I'll give you twenty-five percent."
Snape raised an amused eyebrow behind his newspaper.
"Fifty," Norman replied with a grin, knowing she'd never go for it.
"I don't have time for this," Hermione said irritably, though the amusement was evident in her face. "Let's skip the bargaining and agree on thirty-seven so that I can get going and beat the crap out of that girl."
"Done," Norman said, laughing. "On the condition that if you find anything you fence it yourself and I get cold, hard cash. I'm trying to avoid being arrested…I'm not too popular in some countries right now."
"Yeah, well, finding those Viking artifacts and promptly selling to the highest bidder might have pissed off the countries with proprietary rights. Though I don't think anyone's really sure who had proprietary rights."
Norman shrugged. "Hey, I could've waited forever to let them figure out who owned them and pay me, but this was faster and I have bills to pay. Anyways, that's ancient history. By the way, Gina did quite a number on your poor neck. You should wear a scarf till that heals…people are going to think your boyfriend abuses you." Hermione stuck her tongue out at him.
"Where's the temple?"
"I went one better. Your congratulatory gift for receiving the Eternal Harpist is this super-awesome PalmPilot. Best on the market, I'll have you know. Your consolation prize for having your pendant stolen is that the Pilot's loaded with all the info I've got on the Temple of Daylight and the Chord of Dreams. Thirty-seven percent. Good luck." He rose and shook her hand. Hermione leaned over and kissed him on the cheek.
"Thank you Norman. Give your mum my love." He nodded and left the coffee shop, tossing down ten pounds for the tab. Hermione followed him out and ducked into a side alley, Apparating to Snape's apartment. He appeared ten minutes later as agreed.
"I've got what we need," she said, not looking up from the data screen. "We need to go to Russia. Well, Siberia."
"I think we'll need warmer clothes," he pointed out.
"Well, for the initial part of the trip we will. The Temple of Daylight itself is located in a magical area that's perpetually sunny. And probably really beautiful with gardens and whatnot, I'd wager. We can apparate to Moscow and travel through more conventional means from there. Once we hit the magical no-zone, we're on foot anyways."
"Why not take Muggle vehicles?"
"Well, we'll take a Jeep or a Land Rover or some such if we can get it, but I make no guarantees. Vasili's nephew has contacts in the black market, but it'll cost us."
Snape had pulled a durable travel pack from a closet and tossed it on the couch. He pulled out a wallet from one of the side pockets and casually held up a Platinum Visa card. "Courtesy of the Order of the Phoenix," he told her.
"Can you do cash advances on that thing? Because I somehow doubt that the Russian Black Market takes Visa cards," she laughed.
He tossed in some supplies and shot her a glare. "Of course I can, but it's not necessary. There's enough money available in a Swiss account." His tone made it clear that he thought she was a moron and Hermione tried not to snicker. When he'd stocked the pack with some food, water, and other gear, he turned to her.
"Do you need to do anything before we leave? I've already owled Albus to tell him you're with me."
"I've got to stop by my parents' house," she replied. "I could use some better shoes." She looked down at the heels she had worn with the jeans.
"Very well. How do we get to your parents' home?"
Hermione furrowed her brow. "Well if you trusted me not to splinch us, I could Apparate us both there."
He shrugged. "I trust you enough." Hermione put the PalmPilot in her back pocket and pulled out her wand. Snape slung the pack over his shoulder. He had dressed in black slacks and a black sweater and had added a thick coat to the ensemble. Hermione took his hand, focused for a moment, and Disapparated with a crack.
They appeared in her living room, where her parents looked up in surprise. Hermione looked startled. "Hello Mum, hello Dad. I thought you were in Florence."
"We were in Geneva, and we got back this morning," her mother responded. "What are you doing here? Who is this?"
"Ah, this is Professor Snape," Hermione introduced. "Professor, these are my parents, the doctors Granger." He nodded and gave a slight bow. "I'll be right back," she told him quietly. "I apologize in advance."
He looked at her in confusion and irritation but she was already exiting the room.
"So," Hermione's father said, coldly. "Who exactly are you?"
"I am Miss Granger's Potions Professor," he responded stiffly, surprised. "As I have been for the last seven years." He made an effort to curb his attitude. Though he was not as thoughtlessly cruel and rude as he had been in years past, some people had the innate ability to make his hackles rise.
"And Potions is a subject of hers?" Mrs. Granger asked curiously. Snape kept his expression blank.
"Well, yes. It's a bit like Chemistry, I suppose." Hermione's mother gestured at one of the chairs and Snape sat warily.
"And what are your designs on my daughter?" Mr. Granger asked icily.
"Designs? I am her teacher, nothing more. I needed her help on a project related to the end of the war." He glared impressively at the man.
"Does she need extra credit?" Mrs. Granger asked, looking a bit angry. "Has she let her grades slip?"
"What war?" her father asked suspiciously. "What has that girl gotten into?"
Snape tried to sort out the situation mentally. These people apparently knew absolutely nothing about their daughter, he realized.
"Do you even know how tall she is?" he asked out of the blue. "What her favorite food is? The names of her best friends? Anything?"
"Oh, her friends," her mother said dismissively. "Robert and Harold or some such. Friends are secondary to her future, she should know that. Maybe I need to have a talk with her," she said with a long-suffering sigh.
Snape shook his head and gave the Grangers an odd look. Quite possibly one of the strangest encounters he'd had with a student's parents. Hell, with anyone's parents. He knew parents that hated their children and parents that spoiled their children and even parents that ignored their children, but never parents that so barely seemed to recognize the existence of their child and yet be so ready to find flaw. He was beginning to wonder if they knew her name. He hadn't heard them say it once.
"I'm ready," Hermione announced breathlessly, as she jogged back into the room. She had a long thick wool coat over her sweater and carried a messenger bag slung over one shoulder. He saw a beanie and gloves peeking out of a pocket, and she tossed him a black scarf even as she tied one around her own neck. Her heels had been replaced with sturdy black boots.
"Bye Mum, bye Dad," she said quickly as she moved toward the hallway.
"Stop right there, young lady. What have you gotten into?" her father raged. Hermione shot Snape a deadly look and he shrugged. He wasn't particularly happy with her for abandoning him with her parents. Especially when everyone at Hogwarts knew how wretched he was in social situations. He crossed his arms and allowed her to deal with the confrontation on her own. Hermione took on a placating expression.
"I have no idea what you're talking about, Dad."
"You seem to need extra credit! And you're gallivanting around instead of being at school, studying. You spend more time with your friends than you do focusing on your future! What the hell kind of war were you involved in? And where exactly do you think you're going now?" Mr. Granger had worked himself into a righteous fury and Hermione winced. "And what is this?" he hissed, holding up a photo. Hermione snatched it from his hand and paled. Snape could see the anger building in her expression, and her entire body tensed. He glanced surreptitiously at the photo. Hermione was smiling brilliantly at the camera, wearing a long lavender gown. Her hair was down, framing her face, and she wore a gleaming gold pendant with a kneeling harpist on it. Her hand was lightly touching the necklace at her throat.
"It's a photo," she said acidly. "It must have fallen out of my diary when I took all of my private possessions out of the house and moved them into storage. Looking at this and considering the fact that you probably dug around in my room to find it, I think it's fairly obvious why I removed my things."
"When you are apparently going out like a tart," he yelled, "it's necessary for me to keep tabs on you."
"You don't know anything about me," she said, her voice so low and angry that it was barely audible. "You can't even remember my birthday, you self-absorbed—" she stopped short and shut her mouth, fighting for control.
"Oh dear, honey, we'll be late for our tea date with Cyril," Mrs. Granger said, glancing at the clock.
"We will finish this when you come home for spring break," her father said coldly. "And if I hear anything more about you being more involved with boys than school…"
"We'll be in Tuscany during her spring break," Mrs. Granger reminded him.
"Fine then, during the summer," he spat. "We will not tolerate this behavior."
"We're in China this summer," Mrs. Granger said absently as she gathered her purse. "We really are late, dear." She took his arm and they left, giving Hermione one more warning look as they closed the door. Snape heard an engine start and a car drive away and looked cautiously at Hermione. She handed him the photo silently and he flipped it over.
Unparalleled beauty with unparalleled talent. Oh, the places you'll go.
--Vasili
"Well that was a little piece of heaven," she said mildly, the anger drained from her expression, leaving it mild and a bit tired. "I wonder if they realize I'm graduating this year." She shook it off and turned a mildly annoyed gaze on him. "Thanks for backing me up. What did you say to them?"
"I said nothing," he responded coldly, meeting her eyes evenly. "In fact, I believe I was fairly extraneous to the conversation in general. Why did you not see it fit to tell me about your parents?"
"I really didn't think they'd be here. I mean, they're almost never around. I'm very sorry about that, sir. I wouldn't have brought you if I'd known they were going to be here, I wouldn't have brought you." She looked up at him a bit nervously. Now was not the time to lose her only ally, especially when he'd been so patient with her. Hell, she might have even said he was fond of her. She blinked at the thought before pulling her attention back to him. Snape was watching her, dark eyes seeming to absorb light.
"As long as you can assure me that I will not have to encounter your parents in the near future, I believe I can let this encounter go," he said grudgingly.
Hermione gave him a small smile. "Are you ready?" she asked him.
"I…yes," he said, still a bit dazed. "I'm ready when you are." He expected to leave immediately but Hermione was staring at a picture on the mantle, a photo of her parents together. He saw her expression falter for a moment as she gazed at the happy couple.
"Are you okay?" he asked, a bit concerned. He would not be able to deal with her going to pieces.
"You think this is new for me?" she snorted. "I'm pretty sure they don't remember my name anymore, which is why they consistently refer to me as 'young lady.' I took up martial arts so I wouldn't be arrested for double homicide." She smiled without humour. "Having my parents is the fastest way to four black belts." She looked back at the picture. "It's just odd sometimes…not to be a part of the love that is so obviously shared by them."
"I was wondering if they ever used your name," he commented. He fumbled for the correct words. "I am not an expert on family relations, so I cannot offer advice, however…there are many at Hogwarts who care very much about you. Your parents are blind to the miracle they have created." He went silent, hoping he had helped somewhat…or at least not made it worse. Hermione looked at him thoughtfully before nodding.
"You're right, of course," she said firmly, brusquely. "Thank you." She smiled at him gratefully.
He shrugged and took her hand without question, expressing his trust in her ability to Apparate them. "Do you know where we're going?"
"Of course." Within seconds they had disappeared with a pop. They appeared outside of a huge house. Snow fell around them and Hermione shivered and moved closer to Snape unconsciously. He put an arm around her and rubbed briskly to warm her. And, he admitted to himself, to comfort her a bit if he could. Hermione glanced up at him, a bit surprised, but his expression was blank as usual. They both turned their attention to the massive house that stood before them in the icy coldness of Russia.
