Here's another chapter for all of you!
Disclaimer: Everything still belongs to the admirable and amazing J.K. Rowlings. If I owned Harry Potter, do you really think I would be writing this?
Chapter 10: Packages and Snape Being Snape
Hermione slammed the door and then leaned against it, fighting back tears. Opening her eyes, she began to pick up everything that was within reach and throwing it about the room. The air was a blur with all of the pillows, books, and knick-knacks flying through it. The shatters and thuds did little to stop her rage; in fact, it only fired it up more. She began to pick up chairs and other things, no longer worrying about the tears on her face or the fact that she could no longer breathe well. She reached out towards the desk in the room when she saw something that made her stop cold.
A sleeping child lay in the bed in the corner of the room. Hermione stopped, stared, and then felt a huge bout of shame and guilt settle in her chest. Evie had been in the room the entire time she'd thrown her little fit. That, more than Remus' dressing down, made her feel horrible. She could have struck the child, or worse, managed to throw the bed over and maybe injuring the girl seriously.
She fell to the ground roughly, hurting her backside and tailbone, but not caring. What was wrong with her? Why was she acting this way? Why was she so un-Hermione-like? Why was everything so--so complicated? She put her head in her hands desperately, clinging to her face like she would to a life preserver if she were drowning. She felt so helpless, so completely not herself that it hurt, it physically hurt. She began to cry, letting the tears fall into her hands and down her arms.
The tears continued for what seemed like forever. She wanted to stop, but she simply couldn't. Her eyes burned and her face was hot. Her hands were stiff from the salty tears having dried on them. By the time no more water could possibly leak from her eyes, she felt exhausted and worn out. Never before had she been so tired. She stood on wobbly limbs, ready to fall into bed and sleep until tomorrow afternoon. But something stopped her.
Hermione had fallen so near the desk that it was the first thing she saw as she stood. But that wasn't what was important. On that desk sat her condolence package from the Ministry in all its brown paper and frayed string glory. She simply stared at it, knowing what it was but not wanting to think about it at the moment. Once on her feet, she didn't move. Half of her wanted to go straight to bed while the other half wanted to inspect the box, make sure that it was what she thought it was.
In the end, she made a compromise. She walked to the desk and picked up the heavy box, holding it in her arms. To do that was surprisingly...comforting. She headed over to the bed beside Evie's and carefully pulled back the covers to lie down. As she tucked herself in as best she could, she held the box close to her chest, feeling the closest to happy she had felt since Ron had died. Sleep came easy that night.
She awoke the next morning to the sound of laughter. It was faint and quiet, but there just the same. From what she could tell, it sounded as though it was in the kitchen. She sat up and stretched luxuriously in her warm bed, poking her sides on the corners of her condolence package. She looked down at it in a mixture of surprise and dismay. Quickly, she stood and put the box back on the desk. She stepped back and looked at it a bit, then decided that she really didn't want to see it all that often and shoved it into the large right-hand drawer of the desk, conveniently out of sight. Satisfied that she could no longer see it, she began to dress for the day.
A few minutes later she stepped from the room in her everyday blouse, slacks, and robes, she headed downstairs for a bit of breakfast and maybe a cup of tea. Even as she began down the stairs, however, she desperately hoped that Remus would be off somewhere this morning. She had no desire to see him now after their row. In fact, it might only make her cry again. And it was amazing how she hated to cry.
She entered the room slowly, standing in the shadows for a moment to survey the people in the kitchen before actually entering, but her movement caught the attention of everyone in the room. And there was a pretty good number. Hannah and Harry sat side by side, both sharing a plate of eggs and sipping on separate cups of tea. Evie was having a fine time with a bowl of porridge, which she somehow had managed to get all over her bit of table and her face. Molly was near the stove, keeping an eye on both the immobile Hermione and a pan of frying bacon. Even Snape was there, brooding over a cup of coffee and pretending to read the Daily Prophet, though Hermione knew that he was in fact watching her. And then, there's Remus. He looks as though he can't decide whether he wants to stand up and go to her or if he ought to just stay where he's at. Hermione enters before he must make up his mind and takes a place as far from him as possible, in between Hannah and Snape. Molly stands up quickly and reaches for a plate from the cupboard.
"Good morning, dear," she begins. "Would you care for some eggs and bacon? Or some toast? Maybe a bit of porridge, or a spot of tea?" She scurried about, eager to please Hermione and avoid a scene at all costs.
Hermione gave her a small grin. "Some tea and a bit of eggs, please," she whispered. "I'm not very hungry."
Molly smiled and eagerly got it for her. Everyone ate in tense silence. That is, everyone except for Evie. She hummed to herself as she made a mess with her breakfast and tried to make the conversation, if there had been any, light.
"Daddy?" she asked. "How come that guy's eating with us this morning?" She pointed at Snape enthusiastically.
Remus followed the trail of her finger and smiled crookedly at Snape. "Because he hasn't got an Auntie at his home to cook for him."
She nodded, as though this made perfect sense. "Daddy?" she began again. "How come his hair's so shiny, huh?"
This time Remus had to fight to hold in his amusement. The entire room erupted into raucous laughter, that is, the entire room save for Snape. He merely scowled and downed the rest of his coffee in one long gulp. He neatly folded his paper and stood up. He set his cup in the kitchen sink. As his back was turned, he spoke. "Lovely little brat, isn't she?"
Remus stood threateningly, but Harry grabbed his arm and pulled him back down. Still, he glared at the straight back of his comrade. "Yes, actually, but she doesn't even begin to match you for charm." Snape spun around, his eyes afire.
"So, Remus, how has wedded bliss been treating you so far? Enjoyed any after-hours romps and stolen kisses beneath the stairs? Or is your young bride a bit of a prude?"
Now no one stopped Remus as he stood in indignation. In fact, he was joined by Harry, Hannah and Molly. Evie didn't understand a bit of it and just continued playing in her now cold breakfast while Hermione looked resolutely into her steaming tea.
"Now, you listen here, Snape, that was too far!" Harry cried, though his argument was fairly ineffective. He did, after all, only reach to Snape's shoulders.
Hannah placed her hands on her hips and glared up at her sour professor. "You're horrible, sir. She's been through a lot lately. You have no right to make fun of her. I--I would love to say something far worse at the moment, but there are children present!"
Remus, on the other hand, rammed Snape into the counter and grabbed him by the front of his robes, lifting him a few centimeters from the floor with his impressive strength. "You take that back, Snivellus. Do you hear me? If you insult Hermione again, you'll have more than just a bit of roughing up to deal with. Or," he added with a sinister grin, "a little bruise on your cheek." He set Snape down and backed away, murder bright in his eyes.
Then, to everyone's astonishment, Hermione began to laugh. She began tearing up and she started to gasp for air as the giggles kept on coming. The other occupants of the kitchen stared at her, surprised at her outburst, but she paid them no mind. As the laughs became fewer, she spoke.
"He's right, you know, sir. You'll have a bit more than one bruise. You might have two!" She burst into giggles once again, and was joined in by the rest of her friends.
Snape glared for a moment and then stormed out of the house, not in the least bit ashamed for slamming the front door behind him. After her laughter died down a second time, she turned to Remus and wiped her eyes. "That was just what I needed!"
Wow! Two chapters in two days! That little trick of writing everything out before I type it up works wonders! I hope you are appeased now, readers! Updates really should be coming closer together now! Please review!
Disclaimer: Everything still belongs to the admirable and amazing J.K. Rowlings. If I owned Harry Potter, do you really think I would be writing this?
Chapter 10: Packages and Snape Being Snape
Hermione slammed the door and then leaned against it, fighting back tears. Opening her eyes, she began to pick up everything that was within reach and throwing it about the room. The air was a blur with all of the pillows, books, and knick-knacks flying through it. The shatters and thuds did little to stop her rage; in fact, it only fired it up more. She began to pick up chairs and other things, no longer worrying about the tears on her face or the fact that she could no longer breathe well. She reached out towards the desk in the room when she saw something that made her stop cold.
A sleeping child lay in the bed in the corner of the room. Hermione stopped, stared, and then felt a huge bout of shame and guilt settle in her chest. Evie had been in the room the entire time she'd thrown her little fit. That, more than Remus' dressing down, made her feel horrible. She could have struck the child, or worse, managed to throw the bed over and maybe injuring the girl seriously.
She fell to the ground roughly, hurting her backside and tailbone, but not caring. What was wrong with her? Why was she acting this way? Why was she so un-Hermione-like? Why was everything so--so complicated? She put her head in her hands desperately, clinging to her face like she would to a life preserver if she were drowning. She felt so helpless, so completely not herself that it hurt, it physically hurt. She began to cry, letting the tears fall into her hands and down her arms.
The tears continued for what seemed like forever. She wanted to stop, but she simply couldn't. Her eyes burned and her face was hot. Her hands were stiff from the salty tears having dried on them. By the time no more water could possibly leak from her eyes, she felt exhausted and worn out. Never before had she been so tired. She stood on wobbly limbs, ready to fall into bed and sleep until tomorrow afternoon. But something stopped her.
Hermione had fallen so near the desk that it was the first thing she saw as she stood. But that wasn't what was important. On that desk sat her condolence package from the Ministry in all its brown paper and frayed string glory. She simply stared at it, knowing what it was but not wanting to think about it at the moment. Once on her feet, she didn't move. Half of her wanted to go straight to bed while the other half wanted to inspect the box, make sure that it was what she thought it was.
In the end, she made a compromise. She walked to the desk and picked up the heavy box, holding it in her arms. To do that was surprisingly...comforting. She headed over to the bed beside Evie's and carefully pulled back the covers to lie down. As she tucked herself in as best she could, she held the box close to her chest, feeling the closest to happy she had felt since Ron had died. Sleep came easy that night.
She awoke the next morning to the sound of laughter. It was faint and quiet, but there just the same. From what she could tell, it sounded as though it was in the kitchen. She sat up and stretched luxuriously in her warm bed, poking her sides on the corners of her condolence package. She looked down at it in a mixture of surprise and dismay. Quickly, she stood and put the box back on the desk. She stepped back and looked at it a bit, then decided that she really didn't want to see it all that often and shoved it into the large right-hand drawer of the desk, conveniently out of sight. Satisfied that she could no longer see it, she began to dress for the day.
A few minutes later she stepped from the room in her everyday blouse, slacks, and robes, she headed downstairs for a bit of breakfast and maybe a cup of tea. Even as she began down the stairs, however, she desperately hoped that Remus would be off somewhere this morning. She had no desire to see him now after their row. In fact, it might only make her cry again. And it was amazing how she hated to cry.
She entered the room slowly, standing in the shadows for a moment to survey the people in the kitchen before actually entering, but her movement caught the attention of everyone in the room. And there was a pretty good number. Hannah and Harry sat side by side, both sharing a plate of eggs and sipping on separate cups of tea. Evie was having a fine time with a bowl of porridge, which she somehow had managed to get all over her bit of table and her face. Molly was near the stove, keeping an eye on both the immobile Hermione and a pan of frying bacon. Even Snape was there, brooding over a cup of coffee and pretending to read the Daily Prophet, though Hermione knew that he was in fact watching her. And then, there's Remus. He looks as though he can't decide whether he wants to stand up and go to her or if he ought to just stay where he's at. Hermione enters before he must make up his mind and takes a place as far from him as possible, in between Hannah and Snape. Molly stands up quickly and reaches for a plate from the cupboard.
"Good morning, dear," she begins. "Would you care for some eggs and bacon? Or some toast? Maybe a bit of porridge, or a spot of tea?" She scurried about, eager to please Hermione and avoid a scene at all costs.
Hermione gave her a small grin. "Some tea and a bit of eggs, please," she whispered. "I'm not very hungry."
Molly smiled and eagerly got it for her. Everyone ate in tense silence. That is, everyone except for Evie. She hummed to herself as she made a mess with her breakfast and tried to make the conversation, if there had been any, light.
"Daddy?" she asked. "How come that guy's eating with us this morning?" She pointed at Snape enthusiastically.
Remus followed the trail of her finger and smiled crookedly at Snape. "Because he hasn't got an Auntie at his home to cook for him."
She nodded, as though this made perfect sense. "Daddy?" she began again. "How come his hair's so shiny, huh?"
This time Remus had to fight to hold in his amusement. The entire room erupted into raucous laughter, that is, the entire room save for Snape. He merely scowled and downed the rest of his coffee in one long gulp. He neatly folded his paper and stood up. He set his cup in the kitchen sink. As his back was turned, he spoke. "Lovely little brat, isn't she?"
Remus stood threateningly, but Harry grabbed his arm and pulled him back down. Still, he glared at the straight back of his comrade. "Yes, actually, but she doesn't even begin to match you for charm." Snape spun around, his eyes afire.
"So, Remus, how has wedded bliss been treating you so far? Enjoyed any after-hours romps and stolen kisses beneath the stairs? Or is your young bride a bit of a prude?"
Now no one stopped Remus as he stood in indignation. In fact, he was joined by Harry, Hannah and Molly. Evie didn't understand a bit of it and just continued playing in her now cold breakfast while Hermione looked resolutely into her steaming tea.
"Now, you listen here, Snape, that was too far!" Harry cried, though his argument was fairly ineffective. He did, after all, only reach to Snape's shoulders.
Hannah placed her hands on her hips and glared up at her sour professor. "You're horrible, sir. She's been through a lot lately. You have no right to make fun of her. I--I would love to say something far worse at the moment, but there are children present!"
Remus, on the other hand, rammed Snape into the counter and grabbed him by the front of his robes, lifting him a few centimeters from the floor with his impressive strength. "You take that back, Snivellus. Do you hear me? If you insult Hermione again, you'll have more than just a bit of roughing up to deal with. Or," he added with a sinister grin, "a little bruise on your cheek." He set Snape down and backed away, murder bright in his eyes.
Then, to everyone's astonishment, Hermione began to laugh. She began tearing up and she started to gasp for air as the giggles kept on coming. The other occupants of the kitchen stared at her, surprised at her outburst, but she paid them no mind. As the laughs became fewer, she spoke.
"He's right, you know, sir. You'll have a bit more than one bruise. You might have two!" She burst into giggles once again, and was joined in by the rest of her friends.
Snape glared for a moment and then stormed out of the house, not in the least bit ashamed for slamming the front door behind him. After her laughter died down a second time, she turned to Remus and wiped her eyes. "That was just what I needed!"
Wow! Two chapters in two days! That little trick of writing everything out before I type it up works wonders! I hope you are appeased now, readers! Updates really should be coming closer together now! Please review!