Okay, Tammy was my
super-quick reviewer. Do you want chocolate chip or sugar cookies?
I think the Snape/Regina/Voldemort thing took skeezy cheating to a
new level, eh? No, skeezy is not a word in the traditional sense
but, much like 'poo's,' I happen to like it.SlytherinsDarkAngel:
Alcohol is such a lovely social lubricant, don't you agree? It's
great because there's a point where you're more daring but not
downright sloshingly drunk… Liquid courage!
Danielle: I expect
reviews when you get back! It'll be so odd without you…
AveryGoodun: They shall
indeed meet Miss de la Gris…but not for about two more chapters…
I hope she lives up to expectations. I like her; I hope you do too.
But not too much 'cause she don't get no happy endin'.
Lil: Thirty-seven
sounded good to me… And I give up on last chapter. Too damned many
errors. I must've been drunk or something. But thanks for the
heads-up.
Fiona McKinnon: Yep, he
just beat the hell out of her, don't worry. Heh, anyone who's
read my Remus/Hermione series of stories knows that I'm at least somewhat
realistic with the post-traumatic issues associated with rape--for me
to incorporate that would require a much longer story that would be a
bit too involved for my tastes. Too many interwoven storylines…I'd
confuse myself. But I assume you've read some of my other fics
since you refer to Hermione as Mya in your reviews, which is
something I just noticed.
SoulSearching06: Thank
you so much for taking the time to review! Piccolos are actually
really neat. It's my running joke with my harp teacher whenever I
have to transport the bugger: "Why didn't my mom make me take up
the piccolo, dammit?"
Karen (aka Fire):
Thanks in advance for the review!
Duj: Lol, my perception
of the insult was totally different! I saw it as a very cruel
comment because he'd taken a newly discovered personal sore spot
and jabbed at it rather thoughtlessly. Hermione has made peace as
best she can with the fact that her parents are the way they are, but
the scene where she was looking at their photo was kind of a hint
that it still hurts a lot that they don't acknowledge her or
include her in their love. Also, I specifically tried to note that
a) Snape has mellowed and is not a particularly cruel guy anymore and
b) he's kinda got a thing for her, making him feel even more guilty
about hurting her feelings. As for the language, I'm not sure
specifically what you're referring to (he cursed three times, if
I'm not mistaken) but I agree with Chris Rock: "Show me a grown
man who's never said 'shit' and I'll show you someone who's
full of shit." I find it hard to believe that someone with Snape's
disposition and life experience doesn't even curse to himself. And
I have the advantage of not being constrained by the fact that these
are technically kids' books…as long as I rate it M, I can throw
in some vulgarity and sex. I do appreciate the constructive
criticism; it forced me to articulate why I wrote certain things the
way I did which ended up being useful when I edited another chapter
and when I decided the final direction of the characters in this fic.
I want to warn you now that I have indeed taken liberties with both
characters and since this is a lighthearted 'romance' fic, there
will almost certainly be sex involved (but not for a long while
'cause I'm well known for my characters being slower than
molasses about getting it together). I hope it doesn't deter you
from reading, but I understand if it does. I'm in the midst of
reading your fics and I wonder that you would bother with my stories
when yours are so good! Keep writing! Do you write any original
fiction? You have a lot of talent.
Mundungus42: Thank you
so very much for your very kind review. I'd love to say I went
all-out in-depth for research on this piece…but I play the harp.
And have played it for a very long time, so I'm pretty familiar
with the instrument and its history. (Had to cross-check a couple of
things, though). I chose pedal harp because you can't play most of
the pieces I've included on lever or Celtic. Hermione's
repertoire is quite different from mine, but I decided that she would
probably be a more mature and serious musician than myself and more
inclined to classical than the jazz and improvisation that I tend
towards. I think I'll shoot myself before ever playing Pachelbel's
Canon again. I've done my damndest to avoid using Salzedo and
Andres because they're the default harp composers. You may be sad
that I've included Satie's Gymnopedie No. 1 (possibly the most
overplayed piece of music ever) but it was that or First Gnoisienne
and for my purposes Gymnopedie worked better. It's better-known
and less complex…you'll see later why that's important. I hope
you continue to enjoy my story and keep coming back for more…I've
always been quite a fan of your stories!
Also, I had to upload last chapter 3 times because of errors and I still missed one that Lil caught. Thank you's to Draccy, AveryGoodun, and Lil: you guys are worth a million betas.
Once again, thanks to everyone who took the time to review! I'm somewhere around 46 reviews and I'm trying to top 119…help me out!
aimes
Vanya Barokov was a tall bear of a man. He shook Snape's hand gruffly and hugged Hermione like a favorite niece.
Snape had removed the warming charm as planned when the Russian arrived but the living room was still comfortable from the roaring fire.
"I have everything you need," he told her. "Supplies enough for two, a good vehicle, and legal documentation to be in this country. You will be fine, I think, if you don't get yourself killed."
"I have no intention of dying young," Hermione assured him. He laughed jovially as he patted her shoulder.
"Ah, young Hermione, I have something for you," he said suddenly. He pulled a beaten letter out of his pocket. "Here. Old Vasili, he asked me to give it to you when you received that necklace."
Hermione looked at him curiously as she opened the letter and began to read.
Hermione—
If you read this
letter, you have chosen to accept your gift. You are the best
student I've had the pleasure of knowing. I cannot be with you on
this momentous occasion for even as I write this, I am dying.
I find myself
wishing I could see you settled, little one. I look at the child you
were and the young lady you are and I imagine the woman you will be
very soon. Or perhaps she is the woman you have already become…but
to me you will always be my little girl. I find myself wondering who
you will wed and whether you will have children. I selfishly want
your children to know me as their grandfather; I want to spoil them
and coddle them and be there on the unforgettable day that one of
them realizes she has inherited your gift. Yes, you will have a
little girl, I think, one as untamed and brilliant as yourself. But
I will not be present to meet her.
To my greatest
student, to the girl I would have as my own daughter, I leave you the
Italian Harp. That exquisite instrument upon which you amazed me on
the first day we met is now yours, child. Play it well for the rest
of your days and think often of me. And when your little girl
wanders to the instrument and plucks its strings for the first time…
think of me and let her music light the world.
Unparalleled
beauty with unparalleled talent. Oh, the places you'll go!
--Vasili
PS: Warn the man you marry that I shall haunt him for the rest of his days if he does not treat you well. But that will probably be the least of his worries once you are through with him!
"Vanya," she said faintly, "he gave me the harp."
Vanya blanched then gave a great belly laugh. "Wonderful! You deserve it. When you return from your journey, you will contact me. We will arrange to take the harp wherever you wish! Now, you sleep and leave early, dushenkanya. Never travel at night in this place, it is dangerous. The large bedroom is the only one with a fire place. You should take that one and have your friend sleep in the living room," he ordered. "I must go. Do you have the money?"
"Here's a wire transfer receipt. The money's in your account," she replied, still staring at the letter.
Vanya took it and pulled out a cell phone. After a short conversation he hung up and smiled widely. "Good! That is taken care of. I will see you soon, Hermione." He glared at Snape for a moment. "Take good care of her," he rumbled threateningly. Snape nodded silently and Vanya seemed satisfied.
"Goodbye, young Hermione. Be safe." With another crushing handshake to Snape and a bear hug to Hermione he was gone. Hermione sank to her knees and gasped for air after he released her and let out a soft groan.
"Like I wasn't bruised enough." Snape snorted and offered her his hand. Hermione took it and he hauled her to her feet. He noted with relief that she did not seem at all upset with him anymore.
"We should check the equipment," he advised. Hermione nodded as she tucked the letter in her bag and picked up her coat and scarf. In a few moments she had finished tugging on her boots and stood.
"Ready?" He nodded as he finished tying his scarf. Hermione picked up the keys Vanya had left on the counter and they went outside. Hermione got in the driver's side of the Land Rover, switching it on with a flick of her wrist.
"Nice. He's even plugged a nav system in here." She hooked the PalmPilot up to the navigational system and aligned the coordinates. Snape was checking the gear in the back of the truck. He tossed a blanket off and picked up an Uzi.
"He certainly left us prepared," Snape commented, checking the cartridges. Food, water, blankets, weapons…
"He must think we're going into a war zone," Hermione said wryly.
"All of Russia has the potential to be a war zone," Snape pointed out. "Especially if you're not welcome, as we are almost certainly not."
"Well we're safe from Muggle conflicts as soon as we enter the area of the Temple," Hermione responded. "Oh, speaking of which…" She pulled out her necklace and gave it to him.
"What is this?" he asked, unsure.
"It's the Gold Harpist. It should be strong enough to get you into the magical zone despite the fact that it's not yours, especially if I give you the power." She turned off the engine and grabbed her PalmPilot. "Let's go inside and I'll explain to you how it will work."
He followed her inside silently, running his fingers over the pendant, examining the detailing. She did not head into the living room but instead went up a large flight of stairs to a bedroom. One wall was a huge picture window, looking out on the snowy forest behind the house. A huge bed faced the window, and a fireplace faced the doorway. Hermione strode directly to the fireplace and began a fire and cast a heating charm before turning to him.
"If we leave in the early hours of the morning, we should reach a bit earlier than Gina does. She can use the Gold Harpist to enter the area and even the temple, with some considerable work, but the Eternal Harpist is required to unlock the map that will show her to the Chord of Dreams." She bit her lip, thinking for a moment before nodding to herself. She needed to test her theory about sharing her musical gift. Hermione brushed past him as she left the room to warm, heading back downstairs into the living room and grabbing more food from the kitchen on her way. Once inside the living room, she kicked off her boots and tugged off her scarf and coat, sitting cross legged on the couch and munching on a granola bar and yogurt.
"Come here," she ordered, knowing that he'd followed her. He raised an eyebrow before obeying, sitting across from her on the couch and waiting.
She put down her food bit her lip again, deciding. "I think you'll need to take off your sweater and unbutton your shirt. This will work better with skin contact." She leaned over and rummaged in her bag, pulling out a black cord. Hermione carefully threaded the Gold Harpist onto the cord and waited for Snape to finish.
Snape slipped off his sweater and unbuttoned the first few buttons of his shirt. Hermione leaned forward and tied the cord around his neck, letting the pendant rest against his chest. Then she leaned back and put her hand over the harpist.
"Relax and open up to me. I can't do this if you're fighting me—on any level." Snape took a breath and concentrated on lowering the instinctive magical barriers he possessed and when Hermione saw his body relax slightly, she began.
Snape opened his eyes to see her murmuring something under her breath, eyes closed, concentrating. Warmth suffused his body and he felt something spark from her hand into the pendant into him. It lingered for a moment: a sharp buzzing that filled his ears and seemed to run through his blood, before it disappeared. Hermione removed her hand but the pendant stayed warm. She looked tired, skin pale, eyes hollowed but burning.
"Let's see if this worked," she mumbled. She got to her feet unsteadily and he rose as well, taking her by the arm to support her. Hermione led him to the harp and made him sit. She placed her hands on his shoulders and leaned against him slightly, still weak.
"I cannot play the harp," he pointed out, voice slightly irritated. He was out of his element and it did not make him happy. Hermione ignored him and tugged it back to rest against his shoulder.
"Relax," she said soothingly in his ear. "Focus." She put his hands on the harp. "Play."
He tried to listen to her, taking deep breaths. Without warning, his hands began to move of their own accord, playing music that sounded vaguely familiar to him but that he'd never learned to play. Hell, he couldn't even remember the name. He let it flow through him more easily, concentrating, focusing the power and the energy, and the piece evened out. Suddenly he was playing with sharp clarity and precise pace, as though he'd been born with a harp. His feet moved instinctively to change pedal positions and he felt the music course through him. Some part of his mind analytically registered the power of the music as a magic separate from his own and took note of how to control and channel it.
There was a soft whimper behind him and he replaced the harp, turning just in time to see Hermione crumple to the floor. Her skin was almost translucent, and her eyes were unfocused. He lifted her into his arms quickly and carried her upstairs, placing her on the bed and checking her pupils.
"Miss Granger? What happened? Hermione?" he shook her gently and suddenly she slipped her hands into his shirt and gripped his shoulders. Snape felt a pull and Hermione's eyes snapped open. Color rushed back into her face and she released him, slumping back onto the bed.
"Hermione?"
"Sorry," she mumbled. "I've never done it before. And I've never seen it done with a wizard. Especially not one as strong as you. I didn't realize you could hold onto it like that and direct it."
"I...I'm sorry," he apologized. "I had no idea I was draining you."
"You were making the spell stronger…I wasn't ready…the backlash hit me hard. You didn't drain me, but it takes a lot of energy to control the spell and your natural ability as a wizard just kept amplifying it. I hit a breaking point where I couldn't control the anything anymore."
"Are you alright now?" He touched her forehead in concern and checked her pupils again as well as her pulse.
"Yes, I'm fine. Just…tired. You did better than I could have imagined." He stroked her hair gently, massaging her scalp.
"What was I playing?" he asked, his voice low and hypnotic as he tried to soothe and distract her. It was obvious that the incident had frightened her; he imagined it had felt akin to suffocating under the weight of the magic.
"Erik Satie's Gymnopedie Number One. Lovely, isn't it? Your subconscious mind chose it. You'll make it into the complex just fine. I'll use my Silver Harpist to get me in. The magic will sense my ability and allow me through…it will allow you through because you're sharing my gift. It will assume…"
"Assume what?"
"Among us, we share our gift only with those we love. Most can only share with the Eternal pendants…only witches and wizards can share using any of the other pendants. Thus, it's a very sacred thing. The magic protecting the area will assume you're my lover." She smiled wanly.
"Well…thank you for sharing it with me," he said awkwardly. "Especially as it caused you such discomfort."
Hermione nodded. "We should sleep more," she said softly. "There are pajamas of Vasili's in the closet that you can borrow."
"Indeed," came the simple response.
She wrapped an arm around him and pulled herself into a sitting position. Snape helped her up and she led him to the closet, where she tossed him a pair of black silk pajamas.
"These should fit about right," she said. "You might have to adjust them a bit with your wand."
She turned her back to him and pulled off her sweater and tank top. She shimmied out of her jeans, and reached back to unhook her bra. She grimaced slightly.
"Erm…sir?" she said sheepishly. He turned and saw her facing away from him clad only in her underwear. If he had been able to see her face, it would have been bright red. But then, even if he could see her face, he was too distracted by other parts of her to pay much attention. He fought down the flush in his own face and mentally snapped himself in line. "Could you maybe unhook my bra, please?" Snape hesitated before taking a step toward her and gingerly unclasping the black satin. He turned his back immediately, and Hermione grabbed a green silk pajama top, slipping it over her head.
"Yeesh, what is it with men and green?" she grumbled. "I'm starting to look like the poster girl for Slytherin."
Snape turned and shot her a smirk. "It seems your teacher had good taste," he gloated. Hermione fought the urge to give a rude gesture. This shirt came only to mid-thigh on her, unlike Snape's, which had been almost knee length and for a moment she felt exposed.
"Would you like me to adjust the pajama pants for you?" he asked quietly, noting the flash of embarrassment on her face.
"No," she replied tiredly. "I don't have the energy to put them on. I think I need to lie down." Her voice got softer with every word and he realized that it was difficult for her to speak coherently.
She trudged back to the bed feeling disjointed and crawled in without further comment. Snape followed her out and hesitated before heading for the door.
"Oh stop," she said irritably. "I still have no intention of jumping you and this bed is even bigger than yours. Since you don't hog the covers, just sleep here. Besides, I hate sleeping by myself in this house…I always used to have Vasili's dog with me. This place is too big."
"Are you comparing me to a poodle, Miss Granger?"
"A pit bull, more like," she retorted. He laughed as he leaned against the doorframe. "For the record, though, he was a Siberian Husky. Beautiful eyes, that one." Hermione curled on her side facing him, her eyes questioning.
"I simply wish to put out the fire in the living room. It would defeat the point of this little journey to die in a house fire before we stopped Regina," he said dryly. Hermione smiled slightly.
Snape went downstairs and snuffed the fire out quickly. As an afterthought he went to the kitchen and poured a glass of water. He carried it upstairs, scoffing at himself. He was going completely soft, he decided, placing the water on the nightstand next to Hermione.
"Thank you," she mumbled. Her back was to him and he was slightly startled by the sound of her voice. He'd thought her to be asleep.
A thousand snarky comments ran through his head but he voiced none of them. "You're welcome."
He slid into bed next to her and reclined against the pillows, hands folded on his chest as he let his mind wander.
"Severus?" she said hesitantly before he was too deep in his reverie.
"Hm?"
"Would you rub my head like you did before? It felt really good." She cringed slightly, expecting sarcasm, but he just glanced over at her briefly before lifting a hand and burying it in her hair. He began to massage her scalp and run his fingers through her curls without paying much attention, automatically avoiding the bruise from her encounter with Regina.
"Feels so good," she sighed. "Thanks…" she drifted off, burrowed under the covers, smiling as she slipped into a sweet dream.
Snape looked over at her sleeping form once more before returning to his thoughts. His mind replayed the sensation of the music running through him yet again. It felt so…alive. Like the music was something sentient and begging for release. Within it he'd also felt another presence. He was fairly sure it had been Hermione's magic: at once so gentle and so powerful. It felt rather like a tiger, he decided. Gorgeous and breathtaking, all soft fur and brilliant color and sinewy muscle but with a decided set of powerful teeth and claws that could shred through metal. He looked over at her peaceful face one last time before letting himself sleep. He knew he would dream of her…and he rather looked forward to it.
