"Thank the Fae" by gingerbred Chapter 13

[thankthefae]

Christmas Eve of Adduction... Part 7

Hermione investigates the break-in, Arthur gets an owl and a clue, paper gets folded, and wards are discussed. Most thoroughly.

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Originally Published: 2017-02-14 on AO3
Chapter: 13 / 13 of ?

Pairing: Hermione Granger / Severus Snape

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Disclaimer:
JKR owns the lot. I own bugger all, and shan't profit in the least. Except for kudos and comments, both of which are appreciated, as is your reading. Ta!

I'm seriously floored by the number of hits and kudos. Thanks so much, people!


Previously:
Hermione discovers someone has been in her chambers while she was out.

Severus has asked Arthur for information about the spells performed on Hermione's parents; as yet Arthur hasn't supplied it. Instead he thought asking Harry what to do would be a good idea. Hermione disabused him of this notion as politely as possible.

Severus and Hermione are both coping with caffeine withdrawal, more or less stubbornly, respectively, although Severus' mood may be more severely influenced by the protracted student discussion of his recent bout of laughter. Poor thing.


Happy Valentines'!


A/N:
In case you didn't see the edit in the last chapter: I realized after the fact that it might not have come across *at all* that Bowman Wright (of golden Snitch fame ;-)) is a canon character. Sorry. My sincere apologies for that.

I did a bunch of research (insomniac) to see who I could borrow for/ use in my story, but didn't want to force readers to do the same because he's so terribly minor (reading shouldn't be homework), so I repeated the info on him here. Basically as a bonus for folks who know more than I, without trying to penalize those less familiar with the various works.

Marcus, Herewig and Helga are my OCs. (Helga's niece Heidi is also canon, btw, but not fleshed out beyond "Hufflepuff" and "quidditch player," which is pretty darn thin if you ask me, but enough to build on. ;-))

Christmas Eve of Adduction... Part 7

-~HG/SS~-
Hogwarts, Saturday 23rd December, Afternoon, Hermione


She's in a much better mood when she arrives back at her rooms than when she'd left.

That is until she reaches her door.

She can feel it quite plainly, her wards have been breached. Not just an attempt; someone has been successful and plowed straight through her wards. That shouldn't have been easy. To be fair, they weren't her very best work, that takes far too long for day to day use and setting wards at all was more a matter of habit than of active defense. It's also perfectly sufficient just to be warned. 'There's no safer place than Hogwarts, right? Except maybe Gringotts,' and she laughs to herself despite her heightened alarm. That's one of her ways of dealing with stress these days, letting her now considerably darker humor run free.

Wand in hand, she sets her basket down outside her chambers and guards it almost reflexively with an Anti-theft Charm. Then she affixes the strap of her beaded bag securely diagonally across her chest and pushes open the portrait to her rooms, cautiously edging her way in. Before she's gone two steps she sees it. There in the middle of her floor, a small wooden box, wide open, containing a variety of what from this distance seem to be potions, made all the more noticeable by a veritable fountain of glittering white sparks shooting up two meters in the air from its center, probably triggered by her movement or proximity. ('It'll be my proximity, otherwise Crookshanks would have set it off.') She'd have taken the Roman candle for a W3 product were it not so tasteful. Unquestionably hard to miss. Someone clearly didn't wish to alarm her unnecessarily. This seems somehow familiar, and she thinks back to Severus calling out so as not to startle her as he disillusioned outside the Fae's glade.

She approaches less cautiously now, reasonably certain she knows what she's facing, and sure enough, there's a note clearly affixed to the box sealed with a green waxen "SS." A quick spell determines she has nothing else here to be concerned about, and that no threat emanates from the note itself, although that would have been extremely unlikely, and she tears it open, eager to see what the Potions Master has to say.

Professor Granger,

I noticed at lunch that you seemed a bit under the weather. I have taken the liberty of putting together a selection of potions which may prove of use. It would be a pity were you to be indisposed for the holidays.

She can't help grinning like a dafty at this. It was just a couple of hours ago she had entertained visions of caring for him, so this feels very nice indeed.

Please forgive the intrusion and the breaking of your wards.

This, on the other hand, makes her nervous. She remains convinced, although she's mistaken, that he was mocking her for leaving footprints behind in the snow the other evening. She knows he is more skilled and has far more defense training and experience than she does, and she's a bit sensitive. She's also proud and doesn't wish for him to find her ridiculous or pitiable. She continues reading uneasily.

On discovering they were set, a rarity worthy of note and commendation I must add, I considered sending a house elf with the potions. In light of your meal simplification efforts on their behalves, however, I thought that you would prefer this solution instead.

He's correct, and she's pleased to see he considered her feelings in the matter. It doesn't occur to her for a moment that had he not explained how his reasoning actually respected her wishes, or were she less fond of the man, that she would have been positively outraged at the incursion. Intention is often everything, and vantage point is undoubtedly much of the rest.

And then he continues with a couple of statements that leave her head spinning.

You should know that your wards are the third strongest in the castle, surpassed only by Minerva's and mine own, and Minerva as Headmistress has the advantage of the castle providing assistance. This is true of your wards in general, and not simply at the moment, when your chief competition could perhaps be seen as Sybill.

She can just hear his smirk as she reads that.

Then he proceeds with a surprisingly detailed analysis of what worked on her wards and what didn't and how best to easily improve them, and she's... well, she's terribly pleased, really. Sure, it's a bit like a return to his DADA classroom, except far more flattering. But if she's honest, she's never stopped grading herself either, and this is right up her alley. It's intelligent and insightful, and she's better for having read it.

Another side effect of the war has been a loss of certainty; she feels less secure these days. She practices regularly with the DADA applied study groups to keep a wand in and her skills sharp. She wonders if he might be persuaded to participate, because she knows she could learn so much more from him.

Finally he asks if she'd care to try a series of reciprocative tests, and he's signed it simply: "S.S." She grins. So no "Professor" then?

And she can't get the smile off her face, sorting through the potions he's sent. It's actually quite revealing of what he's thinking. There's something to increase appetite, so he'll have observed her pushing her food around on her plate. The Calming Draught shows he noticed her agitation. ('Although that probably would have been hard to miss.') The Invigorating Draught would indicate he suspects a lack of caffeine to be the cause. There's a even a Sleeping Draught which speaks volumes to the degree of agitation she had on display. ('Oh dear.')

She's grinning like a loon. That is until she spots the Pepper Up cold remedy and Vitamix amongst the potions, and begins to wonder why he might suppose she needs them. And then it occurs to her that he must have noticed her sniffing about him. She blushes a very becoming shade of rose, but decides that if he's taken it for a cold, ultimately she's escaped notice. She doesn't realize the flaw in her logic, that the only notice she can feel confident she's escaped is his, but perhaps that was all that mattered.

Her grin returning, she considers how best to respond to his care package.

-~oOo~-
The Burrow, Saturday 23rd December, Arthur


Hermione had no way of knowing that her thoughts as to which owl to send to Arthur were utterly for the birds, so to speak, because when Severus dispatched his owls, he made no such considerations and Molly had already recognized the old tawny owl that swooped in to the Burrow yesterday and interrogated Arthur accordingly. It had helped considerably that he was able to truthfully reassure her that the owl was not from Hermione, rather from another Order member, and left it at that. Severus naturally would also have been a tricky topic, particularly as his specific request would most certainly have been poorly received by Molly, had Arthur mentioned it. The exchange did serve to highlight for him how unwelcome even the thought of the poor young woman had become in his home. He hadn't quite realized the extent of the problem before, the process occurring in stages he'd barely registered.

When Hermione's unexpected, and indeed unrecognized, owl finally arrives at the Burrow, gliding in right under Molly's nose, and Arthur reads her scroll, well, he begins to understand everything more fully.

The first and most obvious realization is that she's at Hogwarts. Now. For Christmas. He gives it a bit of thought, of course he knows she isn't a Head of House, so she wouldn't have had to stay, and finds himself considering if she had anywhere else to go. That's naturally followed by wondering why she's no longer here with them at the Burrow for the holidays, although Molly's reaction to even the possibility of an owl from the young lady answers that question to some extent.

What it doesn't explain is "why?"

Considering it some more, it occurs to him that she hasn't been here for the holidays in quite some time. Long enough, as a matter of fact, that he's having trouble pinpointing when she was last there. Although at the time he'd attributed it to her accelerated program of study, he's now seriously questioning when she was last actually invited. Surely she would have been able to join them, if only for the occasional meal, no matter how busy her schedule, wouldn't she? If she had been made to feel welcome. And he finds that thought incredibly sad, and can't stop puzzling over where it all went wrong.

He decides he'd like to get to the bottom of this.

Casual inquiry of Ron and Harry, who arrived after work with George yesterday to stay for the weekend, "What's Hermione doing for the holidays?" reveals that neither one has the faintest idea what Hermione's holiday plans are. Nor does George, and Ginny seems outright offended at the hint of a notion that she should care what Hermione is doing.

Well, that was unexpected.

An additional question or two directed at Harry further brings to light that he can't seem to recall when he even last owled Hermione, and Arthur begins to suspect the depths of the error of his approach to the issue of Severus' questions, and the impression that must have made on Hermione.

He decides to address that shortcoming and write to the witch in question immediately.

-~oOo~-

The Burrow,
Saturday 23rd December

Hermione,

Thank you for your owl. I am sorry, dear, that I did not contact you about Severus' request directly. You are quite right, I should have done, for a variety of reasons. You are a grown witch, a resourceful and extremely competent young woman (but of course, you've always been that), this concerns your family, and the decisions are entirely yours to take.

This was not a matter to be discussed behind your back, and in fact I only consulted Harry because he happened to be here. I thought he would have a better idea of your feelings about this, and am saddened to hear he doesn't. But all decisions rest with you. Believe me, I never meant to suggest otherwise.

Please know also how sorry I am that no one has been able to solve this problem yet. I can't tell you how much I wish Severus will succeed where we have failed, for I know exactly how important family is, and can only begin to imagine your loss. I am so very sorry, dear.

Rest assured I will sit down immediately after writing this and put together all my thoughts and notes on our unfortunately failed attempts to recover your parents' memories. I shall owl them to Severus this very evening. I won't leave the Burrow until it is complete.

It is a source of great regret for me that we couldn't solve this problem for you before now, and that you've been left waiting so long. I will do my (very small) part now to make sure it shan't be delayed a day longer.

I only hope that it helps Severus somehow. If you need anything, if either of you require anything, please know that you can rely on me to lend any assistance I am able to.

I wish you both the best of luck in this endeavor and a Happy Christmas.

All my best,
Arthur

He sets out to find an owl, and it occurs to him as Pig is still MIA that he'll need another later to send the information on to Severus, or it would have to wait until tomorrow after all.

-~SS/HG~-
Hogwarts, Saturday 23rd December, Afternoon, Severus


Severus is seated at his desk, deep in research on how to reverse an obliviate and sorting through the related owls he has received, when his Floo flares to life and a small ('and apparently paper') doe leaps from the fireplace and cavorts into his rooms. It's positively captivating. In a series of tiny jumps, it hops onto his papers before unfolding itself to reveal a response from Hermione. ('Professor Granger.') Professor Granger.

He had left his Floo unwarded as long as he was here working in the hope that she might send him a response, and she hasn't disappointed. ('But she rarely does.' 'Indeed.' He's not even sure which voice is which.) He is aware that this is possibly a poor solution to avoid attracting further attention to their interactions, but if it solves the immediate problem of maintaining contact with her (he doesn't ask why that is a priority), whilst not feeding the rumor mill... He gains time to find a suitable approach for the longer term. This will do for now.

He was ('a bit') concerned that she might not appreciate his breaching her wards. To counterbalance that, he had explained his reasoning and made the effort to sincerely praise the aspects of her wards that worked ('external, and theoretically objective, confirmation of their worth' he can't help grinning) and provide a considered and constructive feedback as to their weaknesses. He referenced a spell or two he was fairly confident, based on those she had used, that she wouldn't have known, but is equally certain she shall by dinner, if the library has anything to contribute. If not, he has a text he would be happy to loan her.

She is nothing if not eager to learn.

Attempting to appear casual in his reading of her note, although the only one here to fool is himself, but perhaps he was the one that mattered in this instance, he's pleased to see she seemed glad to have been sent the potions. She thanks him quite enthusiastically ('naturally' 'for her'), also for the critique of her wards, and actually poses some highly intelligent questions on how best to set them. (He's more relieved at this response than he'd care to admit, having second and third guessed himself ever since.) She has included an overview of her more elaborate wards, and ('quite reasonably') points out the issues with their complexity. He finds himself looking forward to a discussion of some of the points she's raised.

Perhaps at dinner tonight.

-~SS/HG~-
Hogwarts, Saturday 23rd December, Dinner, Severus


By dinner, more similar than they suspect, they've both accomplished a fair amount of research and are both looking forward to seeing one another. Hermione more visibly so than Severus, given the smile she flashes him as she enters the Great Hall, but in addition to being the more open of the two, she's not the subject of widespread speculation at the moment. That does weigh on a person.

In the Headmistress' absence, he takes his seat in Minerva's chair to Hermione's right, with Helga to his. A few of the upper classmen can't suppress reflexive gasps at the sight of him there, memories of the year he was Headmaster and regularly occupied this chair flooding back. Even if their understanding of him at the time was wrong, their fears were no less real. But satisfied as everyone ('apparently') now is that his intentions then were... good, they are soon able to move past these unbidden thoughts. He, however, can't help noticing their reactions all the same, and that too burdens him.

Things are vastly improved from that first year after the war. ('But of course they are,' at the time they had considered sending him to Azkaban. 'So clearly this is an improvement.' 'Dementors. Gryffindors. Is there really any difference?' 'Don't be foolish. There aren't even any Dementors in Azkaban anymore.' 'Then I believe you have just made my case for me.' The sap recognizes facetiousness when he hears it and doesn't bother to reply.) He's reasonably certain he's currently Deputy Headmaster instead of Filius due to some plan to reintegrate him on Minerva's part. It never occurs to him that although that might well be the case, he has also earned the position.

Hermione having been absent that year will never fully understand what transpired between him and those students. In some ways though, it makes her more pleasant company, because she never has that particular image of him in her thoughts, even if only fleetingly, and he finds that a very welcome relief. Minerva, Filius and Poppy all see in him the student he was, the Death Eater he became, followed in turns by the colleague, and then perceived murderer, betrayer, torturer and tyrant. None of them can see him without also feeling guilty for their misperceptions of him that fateful year, even Longbottom. Hermione experienced almost none of that, and of all his colleagues, she sees him perhaps mostly closely for who he is today. Even without all her other sterling attributes, that would be sufficient to recommend her.

Things are rather quiet at their table with only the three of them present. Hermione senses that Severus is still avoiding her, which she is having trouble reconciling with the considerate potions package he sent this afternoon. She's lost in thought, trying to decide how best to lure him into conversation when an owl she recognizes swoops in. It's Percy's screech owl Hermes, and for a brief moment, failing utterly to learn her lesson, she again hopes that the Weasleys are contacting her. She can be excused for that mistake, as the owl indeed appears to be headed directly for her, only swerving at the last moment to land in front of Severus.

It hasn't escaped her notice that the past day or so he seems to be receiving far more owls than usual, and given the significance of Hermes, of all owls, she now has a sneaking suspicion that this might be related to the enquiries Harry mentioned about the spells used on her parents. Those enquiries are apparently much further reaching than she had guessed, and she can't stop a sort of dazed grin from spreading across her face.

Severus doesn't notice, either that she's watching him or her expression, as he's busy trying to get the parchment from Hermes with as little fuss as possible and hurry the owl out of here before Hermione registers any of it. It seems to be Arthur's reply, belated, but that's the Weasleys for you. Still, better late than never. He slips the parchment into his breast pocket, and with a morsel from his plate, he quickly sends the bird to the owlery for a rest.

Poppy, however, arrives just in time to take in the scene. The other three staff members haven't been seated all that long when she joins them. She takes a seat next to Helga, having finally cleared the hospital wing as she's pleased to report.

"Are all the students recovered then?" Hermione asks.

"Well, Mr. Abercrombie had an exceptionally stubborn case of vegetized ear," Poppy responds. "Most trying, but he's on the mend. No hearing loss worth noting, certainly none worse than after a Weird Sisters concert without suitable auditory protection charms, or earmuffs," she continues with a slight huff, remembering with some frustration the completely unnecessary rush of students with sudden onset hearing loss in the wake of the Triwizard Tournament Yule Ball, "and I was able to send him back to his housemates... Ah, here he comes now. No worse for wear, really, but he decidedly had the ears for it. Timid thing, no idea how he got sorted into Gryffindor. Don't imagine this will have helped his disposition any."

Hermione is quite certain Poppy's correct and that will have been the case, but feels no need to agree with the Matron on that score where the students might overhear. Euan will doubtless be teased enough anyway, his rather prominent ears still faintly green post-treatment. Perhaps he can pass it off as seasonal, Hermione thinks doubtfully whilst watching him.

Encouraged now that he needn't break the ice, and trying to distract her from his breast pocket that her eyes keep darting towards when she's not studying the students, Severus leans over to ask Hermione, "Do you suppose broccoli ear is preferable to cauliflower ear?"

"Again with the ears... You continue to surprise me." Truer words... "I'm unsure, but I imagine either or both are preferable to no ear." Her smirk is wicked. "But I suppose we could ask Poppy which of the two is worse."

"Poppy wouldn't know," he answers, definitively. "There are no pugilists in the wizarding world."

"No, indeed, that's what punching telescopes are for..." Hermione trails off at the memory.

He looks at her oddly and she tells him it's a Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes special, but perhaps not one she can wholeheartedly endorse. When he raises his brow in question, she simply reponds, "I was on the wrong end of one once."

"Ah. I can imagine. Sort of a smokey eye effect then."

That gets her grinning, and she raises an eyebrow back at him, he smirks slightly, brings his hands up again in a deflecting gesture and volunteers "All the rage in the 80s," and winks.

"And at least once every half-decade since. Yes, the quintessential smokey eye, and if one isn't overly fond of symmetry, an absolutely perfect rendition at that. Made quite the impression, if not an outright dent. Like I said, can't recommend the experience."

"Suffering builds character."

"That explains so much..." she answers giving him a pointed look, and then retreats to safer ground with a slightly playful, "I like to think I'm character rich as is."

"I would tend to agree that you are."

They let the silence stretch, not uncomfortably, for a moment, listening to Helga ask Poppy questions about the treatment of the recently injured Hufflepuff, Miss Zeller. Snippets of conversation can still be caught from the students, for some reason they're arguing about Imperiuses. And a poorly applied Cheering Charm. One of the Ravenclaws seated with the Slytherins mentions a laughing potion, and several of those around him, the Slytherins she notes 'budding Potions Masters, the lot', are scoffing about being able to taste the Alihotsy leaves and... being able to discern the residual texture of the Knarl's quills. Unless expertly brewed, that is, and eight sets of eyes tick to the Potions Master, in which case one should recognize the color or scent and... It's not making great amounts of sense to Hermione, but Severus' expression is once again darkening. Not wishing to fall back into the silence of the last day or so, she decides to engage him in further conversation to distract him.

"I wanted to thank you again for the potions. That was incredibly considerate."

"So you mentioned in your doe. Note."

"Dote?" she smiles.

"Nice bit of Charms work, by the way. Enchanting. Can you make an otter?"

"Not yet. I only acquired the book this afternoon. I have a ways to go, yet."

"In which case I am doubly impressed. It was very well executed."

She positively beams at his praise, and again he can't help thinking no matter how poor her Warming Charms may be, that smile should render their need obsolete. He can feel his temperature rising just from a glance. But perhaps the common cold is immune to such... charms.

Getting just the hint of a clue, he thinks to ask, "Is there an otter in the book?" and as she reddens in response, the feeling in the pit of his stomach is most pleasant.

"Um... I'm not entirely sure." She's chewing her lower lip in an enticing fashion, and her voice lowers slightly abashed as she proceeds, "I didn't get all that far..."

Before he can get carried away, he changes tack completely, "I did want to apologize again for breaching your wards."

"No need. No need at all. I thought it was very considerate of you not to have used an elf for the errand. I realize my views on them are far from universally shared..."

"I suspect you are quite right about that." He can't help smirking as he scans the tables for visible signs of dietary dissension. "Still. They are your chambers, considering your wishes seemed only... appropriate."

And she's smiling again. Trying to recover and not just sit there like a robe-clad numpty, she swallows and struggles to continue, "I very much like the idea of mutually testing the wards, if you were serious about it."

"I believe 'serious' is considered one of my defining traits."

"And here I thought you and Padfoot had precious little in common."

He glares, but the glare can't hold up in the face of her winning smile.

"So, third best in the castle, hmm?" She's beaming again. He merely nods in response, his expression softening. "And Minerva's wards are better than yours?" She grins impishly. 

"Most certainly not!" He almost begins to bristle, but genuinely can't as long as she keeps that smile on her face. Still, his reaction is enough to amuse her. 

"Despite the castle working in her favor?" she does raise an eyebrow at this, sincerely curious. 

"I would venture that it is accurate to claim that I am a good deal less trusting than the castle. And perhaps more willing to avail myself of... ambiguous magic. As such, my wards are more... robust." 

"I'm tempted to say: 'challenge accepted,' but I suspect I need to learn quite a bit before that's feasible. And I'm not altogether certain a challenge was actually issued as such..." she trails off, fishing, just a tiny bit, for an actual invitation.

"Consider it issued, if it strikes your fancy. I am happy to provide scrolls and tomes, and even a reading list if you would find it helpful. Practice is never amiss. 'Nothing can come of nothing.'" 

Her grin in response to that is wide indeed. He can hear the eagerness in her reply, "I have set new pass phrases, for any eventuality, if we are to proceed." She waits until he takes a drink to resume. "Yours is 'it's Severus.'" And he chokes a bit, flummoxed, wondering why in Merlin's name she would give him ('of all people') a pass phrase to her chambers ('of all places'), or use his given name for that matter, although he rather likes the sound of it when she says it...

As he chokes, she's momentarily relieved she didn't go with the far cheekier 'Hi, honey, I'm home' after all. 'A step too far.' At least. 'Wait for it.' She's positively smiling like a mad woman, and his eyes narrow briefly as he coughs again. And then she pushes on, feeling a bit mischievous but instead dashing his budding vaguely pleasant response profoundly with a flippant, "but I doubt you'll need it."

And his face visibly falls. ('Why on earth give him a pass phrase if his presence isn't wanted?') The hurt he feels at this catches him unprepared.

She doesn't quite understand why he looks so crestfallen. That wasn't the reaction, or any of the possible reactions, she had envisioned. She's instigating, no question, but not at all along any lines he's apparently thinking, whatever they could be. Hermione may be lonely, but she really hasn't much experience with rejection, per se, and sometimes it can be hard to put oneself in other people's shoes. She just assumed this would be a challenge he'd be unable to refuse. And that idea and its possible consequences she really rather liked. Of course he wouldn't need the phrase, because he would just break the wards, wouldn't he? Often, if she were lucky... But off of his reaction she feels a pressing need to explain that further.

"I fully expect you to be able to breach them at will. If you need to resort to a pass phrase, I shall be very disappointed." She's using a mock strict tone, but there's her smile again. "But belt and braces, my dear sir, I wanted you to have one in any event. Wouldn't do to have you locked out." And that seems to finally be getting the reaction she'd hoped, if his expression is anything to go by. As Deputy Headmaster, if he were determined to enter her rooms, he wouldn't need a pass phrase; the castle would work for him. This is her way of saying he's welcome. It's hardly surprising she needs to explain this; he's heard it so rarely that it's almost a foreign tongue.

"Of course you'll need to put some effort into the detectability of your work," she teases. "I could immediately tell you'd been there."

He blinks. He just stares at her. His expression and tone are incredibly dry when he finally responds. "You realize that was my intention. Or did you take a shower of sparklers for subtle?" Both voices in his head are scoffing: 'Gryffindors' in unison. "I certainly did not want to unnecessarily worry you and thought it best that you should immediately recognize that someone had been there. In the absence of a Restorative Potion anything else would have been most counterproductive..."

And the two of them sink into a conversation on the efficacy of different wards, their practicality respective the difficulty to set and the time involved, their vulnerabilities to a varied assortment of attacks (sure enough, she had read up on the topic this afternoon; his pleasure is evident), and the two professors enjoy themselves and their evening immensely.

As the evening wears on, he begins to grin broadly, partly because this manner of exchange, the topic involved, and the future challenge it promises is precisely his idea of a good time. A very good time, in fact. But mostly, though, because other than Minerva and Draco, no one has extended this level of trust to him in recent years. Or longer. He's incredibly moved. He lifts his glass to hide his grin, a far more effective disguise than when Hermione attempted the same this morning, because the apples of his cheeks, fortunately for the composition of his face, haven't nearly the same prominence as hers, but mostly because virtually everyone who sees the grin on his face takes it for something else entirely. Severus Snape doesn't grin. Therefore that is anything but. Gas, maybe. A Dyspeptic Draught, perchance? And how wouldn't he have tasted the peppermint oil? Hmm?

But Poppy knows better.

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Notes:
Next Chapter:
The Ministry throws a party; a bunch of people go to the ball. Our heroes stay home and mope. (Yes, I actually thought that made for a better story. Just trust me.)

Quotes and such:
"Break the ice" is another one of those phrases people like to attribute to Shakespeare. He certainly didn't coin it, and the only use of "ice" I could find coupled with any form of "break" in his works was in "the Taming of the Shrew" Act I, Scene 2, Tranio:

"If it be so, sir, that you are the man must stead us all, and me amongst the rest; and if you break the ice, and do this feat, achieve the elder, set the younger free for our access- whose hap shall be to have her will not so graceless be to be ingrate."

I'd also argue that its use here was in the earlier sense of the phrase, "to forge a path for others to follow," think boats, and not our modern understanding of the words (i.e. "do or say something to relieve tension or get a conversation going in socially awkward situations"). Debunked then.

"Nothing can come of nothing" "King Lear" Act I, Scene 1, Lear's line, followed immediately by the here unvoiced "Speak again." Which in my head Severus was totally thinking. ;-)

Comments

[sanriogirl.livejournal.com]

Risking appearing (and feeling) slightly idiotic here... but I have to ask!! Couldn't you perhaps, possibly, if one asked you terribly nicely, suspend the hiatus and give the "Thank the Fae" devotees just a single chapter before Christmas? Yes, I understand you are working on Beyond Wandpoint, and yes, I am also reading my way through that, and loving it so far :) and yes, maybe, I am like my kids who think that "no" (= this is on hiatus until...) just means "please ask again 85472663 times and I will say yes". :)
But only a teeny, tiny little chapter? 0.0 I would be really grateful :)

[gingerbred.livejournal.com]

Well this was a lovely surprise to discover in my inbox this morning. Thanks so much! Not idiotic at all. Pish tosh. But, hun! HIATUS! Why didn't you stick to the completed one-shots? (The Christmas Spirit stories. The tea Ginger!drabbles (series of three). Severus' retirement. There's a little list at the end of this chapter of wandpoint.) And how far are you in wandpoint, btw? (Because it eventually turns into many hours of them effectively hanging out, or as close to that as either is likely to come that year, which I think is also a nice ss/hg fix.)

Pedagogy dictates that I refuse firmly on the TTF request, but that's not my forte and instead I'll give you a real answer. It takes me about a month to dive into back into writing either of these stories if I take a break. (Sadly, that includes reading in this or similar fandoms, which is something of a haze. Not sure how other people do it, really; I can't. *shrug*) So once I get writing, I prefer not to interrupt it for such long periods. (Goodness knows, I have enough interruptions as is.) And for the moment, I just wanted to get them happier earlier in their lives, and reduce the amount of total suck either of them have faced (because TTF profits from skipping past that, but it doesn't change the characters having actually faced that).

But what I can say is I very much liked the two of them here in this story, and definitely plan to revisit them at some point in the future.