Who Do You Think You Are?!
disclaimer: no, neither ladykyo nor the separatesisters own Harry Potter, or the characters therein. We'd like to , but we don't. Feel free to give them to us if you like, though.
Okay, you guys all really came through! 8 reviews on lil'ol'Ch 2 alone! That makes me feel so happy that you guys get this chapter immediately. So, as promised, this is chapter 3, with a wee bit of a cliffhanger.
So, for Ch. 4, I want. . . 5 reviews before I post. Let's get those numbers up there, okay? Post on any chapter, because I'll be able to see that 5 more reviews have come up (I have 15 total on the story right now). Thanks, and I'll see you on the review page.
Brenna of the separatesisters
Chapter 3: The Aftermath in the Kitchen
Severus Snape had never in his life ever been slapped by a student, past, present, or future, so Hermione's actions had been a complete and total surprise to him. Severus didn't even watch her as she stormed out, but he knew what she'd be doing: she'd find a room that she thought he would never check, begin pacing and chewing her hair as she thought of her options and escape plan, and then she'd lay a rather intelligent trap to buy herself time. Snape smirked to himself, the same smirk that all Slytherins had, as he gave her time to cool off. He knew her well, and she knew it. But he didn't think she'd take it into consideration.
Hermione Granger had never slapped a teacher before, past, present, or future, and after she ran out of the kitchen, she raced through the halls searching for a place to think about her situation. At the end of a hallway that was dimmer than the others, Hermione saw a door that was partially open. She forced her steps to lighten and slow, and she made her way towards a room she just knew Severus would never even look for her in.
As Hermione entered the room, she groped for her wand and upon finding it in one of the dress robe's many pockets, she pulled it out and flicked it.
"Lumos," Hermione whispered to her wand, and a soft glow infused it. Hermione held her wand up high so she could see the furnishings in the room. Everything astounded her.
A massive four-poster bed took over the majority of the room. A gold silken canopy draped from the top of the posts down, creating an intimate little tent. She turned to the large window, which was dusty without care, but a few fingerprints lingered; the sill was wide and had an old cushion on it, and whoever had liked to sit there must have done it a lot, for the cushion was somewhat worn and had a dip in the middle, where someone must have sat for long lengths of time. A few lamps were scattered across the room, unlit but eerily beautiful without the light. On the other side of the room, across from the window, a bookshelf groaned with full shelves. A closet and an armoire were both closed, and Hermione knew nothing of the occupant of the room, save that it must have belonged to someone who enjoyed being in it. Hermione was going to leave and find another room, but she decided that this was the room that Snape would never check.
Hermione shut the door and went to a few of the lamps, lighting them so she wouldn't trip in the dark but not lighting so many that Snape would be able to use them to find her. Hermione was suddenly tired, but she shook her head to clear her thoughts and taking a nap on that bed would not have the desired affect. Hermione opened the window just a crack to let in some cooler air and she began her pacing.
"Alright, what do I know about the situation, " Hermione said as she paced. She wasn't chewing on her hair, but she knew that would come. "I am for some reason stuck here at Snape Manor."
Hermione went back to the window and corrected herself. "Alright, not 'some' reason, but the reality that this is England and as such thanks to the bloody weather everything is flooded and it is too dangerous to fly out on a broom. Even if I had the bloody thing here. Damn. I really should have learned to Apparate with Ron and Harry, underage or not."
As Hermione continued to pace and consider the situation, the stray lock of hair found its way into her mouth and soon Hermione was gnawing on it full tilt as her mind worked overtime.
"No-one knows where I am, I don't know if can even make an Unforgivable Curse work, and Severus knows that. Harry and Ron are in comas, and Ginny is angry. And Sirius has know idea what's going on, while Tonks thinks that Sirius is the one in the bloody god-forsaken forest," Hermione said, beginning to gasp for air as panic was finally setting in. She refused to cry she was too angry with herself and the situation to cry, but she was angry enough to want to kick things. She reared back and kicked the leg of the big four-poster, which was a bloody bad idea, as she was wearing barely more than slippers, and the bed was made from solid hardwood.
"And now my foot hurts," Hermione wailed, forgetting that she didn't want to be found, and her resolution not to cry. Tears of pain rolled down her cheeks, and Hermione sat down on the bed as tears of self-pity and loathing joined them. "I'm tired, my foot hurts, and I'm alone with the man of my nightmares," Hermione said, falling back onto the pillows, which were not, unlike everything else in the room, covered in dust.
Before long, Hermione had fallen asleep, all thoughts of escape and vengeance gone in a slumber born of true exhaustion. Hermione slept so deeply she didn't even hear the footsteps that signaled the arrival of one of the last people she ever wanted to see again.