Beyond 84 Charing Cross Road - Part 31
Jan. 1st, 2011 07:52 pmSummary: Devsgma and Darnedchild have combined their talents to tell you the story of what has happened to our favorite pair. It starts with a few letters from one extremely grouchy potions maker to the manager of a used book store. Canon through Deathy Hallows to the point of Severus Snape's supposed death at which point it becomes AU. This fic is a collaborative effort and was originally born from an aborted RP that never quite made it off the ground.
Rating: PG13 (possible R)
A/N - Anything you recognize, I don't own. The Harry Potter-verse belongs to J.K. Rowlings.
Thank you, Lariope, for taking time away from your own projects to beta for us. We really do appreciate it.
Beyond 84 Charing Cross Road
Part 31
Surprisingly enough, Severus had been more than mildly amused by the play and had to stifle a few laughs that had threatened to escape. He was quite curious how they were going to portray Thickey getting zapped in the arse by his wife after she discovered the full extent of his duplicity. He sincerely hoped they wouldn't leave it up to the imaginations of the audience, as they did the love scenes between Thickey and his mistress, but it would be rather difficult to give a convincing performance without the proper spells.
When the lights came up and signaled it was time for intermission, Severus found he was quite ready to stretch and perhaps obtain a glass of brandy. Rising, he smiled gently down at Hermione and asked, "Shall we?"
When Hermione agreed and they'd made their way to the aisle, Severus found a few well-placed glares opened up the crowd quite nicely. They made their way to the stairs without being hindered. His left arm was loosely around Hermione's waist as they approached the bar.
"What would you like?"
-~8~-
Hermione was in too good of a mood to be bothered by the way people seemed to trip over themselves to get out of Severus' way. Dinner had been rather nice, even after the less than perfect start, and the play was just as humorous as the advertising had promised. She made a mental note to look up the playwright and see if he or she had any other works.
The real reason she was in such a splendid mood probably had more to do with her current company than with food or the play. Unlike their other outing, or the times when they had visited her flat or his, this had nothing to do with books or Potions or even the burning desire to fall into the nearest bed.
After a very brief moment's reflection, she admitted that last one was still valid, but it wasn't an all-consuming need like it had been that night at her place. Not that she had any intention of doing anything about it because friends did not do things like that even when they were out on a date.
Which this was. A date. With Severus.
Hermione grinned and let her hip bump against his as they walked. "Wine. Something red, I think?"
-~8~-
The actions of the witch at his side made the small smile return to his face as they approached the bar. Since this was Severus' first visit to the theater, he'd been slightly apprehensive that he would commit an error of epic proportion in Hermione's presence and, therefore, had done what research he could. He knew, for example, that there would be an intermission during which they were free to move around until the next act was ready and so had been prepared when the lights were turned up. He hadn't realized what outrageous prices the vendors behind the bar would be charging and was relieved he'd prepared for unexpected expenses.
After giving Hermione the glass of wine she'd requested, Severus held his small glass of brandy up to gaze through the liquid to determine if he'd been thoroughly fleeced. He turned slightly to bring a chandelier filled with lighted candles into line and quickly dismissed his concerns over the brandy’s questionable quality when he noted who was arranged under its reflected glow.
"Oh, joy," he muttered mostly to himself and turned his head to look at Hermione. "Are you ready for a baptism of fire? We have a mutual acquaintance across the room, and it's already too late to pretend I haven't seen him because he and his date are both staring at us."
-~8~-
She looked around for a familiar face and quickly spotted the unmistakable blond of a Malfoy. Draco was standing with someone Hermione didn't immediately recognize, which told her it probably wasn't Pansy Parkinson, at least.
Unless Pansy finally had something done about that awful nose of hers.
A squint confirmed that even with some mind-bending magical adjustments to the infamous pug nose, there was no way Draco's companion could have been their former classmate.
"I don't suppose we could get away with a polite nod of acknowledgement and then a mad dash back to our seats or the loo?"
-~8~-
Taking a sip of his brandy, Severus studied the young man for a moment. He hadn't seen Draco since that last disastrous year when Snape had been headmaster at Hogwarts. He'd attempted to keep the damage to the students at the hands of the Carrows to a minimum, and the little shit hadn't helped. Remembering some of the overtures he'd made to – perhaps not befriend the swot – but keep him from being killed, Severus' eyes narrowed slightly.
"No, Hermione, that wouldn't be a wise move," he said with a small shake of his head. "If we do that, it's the same as admitting we can't stand up to his scrutiny, regard or whatever he happens to feel makes him superior, and he'd be one step ahead in the eternal chess game of Slytherin House from the Malfoy point of view. I've actually miscalculated the youngest one, it appears, so it would be wise to be on your guard. I would have wagered my salary for an entire year at Hogwarts that he batted for the other team, but it appears he doesn't, if the comely young witch by his side gives us any indication."
Turning to gauge her reaction, he raised a brow, along with his elbow and added, "We shall, if you're willing, take the appropriate steps and allow them the idea they're holding court as they probably won't budge from their spot. From what I gather, Lucius and Narcissa used to do the same."
-~8~-
The thought of giving Draco Malfoy the upper hand in anything was repugnant, but Severus had made an excellent point that disappearing without a word would give the wrong impression.
She could stubbornly stand her ground and attempt to force Malfoy and his girlfriend to come to her... or she could go over there and get things over with so she could go back to enjoying her evening with Severus. Plus, the sooner they finished a brief conversation with Draco, the sooner she could drag Severus away and ask him what had made him think Draco Malfoy was gay. Somehow, she doubted it was anything as juicy as having walked in on a full-blown orgy in the Slytherin Quidditch locker room, but there had to be something for Severus to base his opinion on, surely.
Hermione linked her arm with his and plastered a polite smile on her lips. "All right, let's do this."
-~8~-
Ah, the infamous Malfoy tilt to the chin. He’s managed it quite well for one so young.
Stopping a comfortable distance away from the self-appointed royalty, Snape raised an eyebrow before tilting his own head to the side. "Mister Malfoy, what a… pleasant… surprise. You remember Miss Granger, do you not?"
Draco’s nod of acknowledgement at their approach, in Severus’ opinion, had been only slightly condescending, and – because of that – his initial greeting to the Malfoy heir had lacked any malice. Draco’s opening salvo, "Mister Snape, Miss Granger. Allow me to introduce Astoria Greengrass. Miss Granger, you may remember her sister, Daphne. She was in the same year we were, back in our school days," had him thinking it might be a tolerable exchange if they were able to depart in the next few moments. Then Draco widened his eyes a trifle and a little smirk appeared on his face.
There’s a saying somewhere about counting ones chickens before they’re hatched.
With that disgusting little smirk still on his face, Draco said, "But of course, we were children then and much has changed. Just look at the two of you. I would certainly never have imagined this turn-about in relations."
Snape, once again, acknowledged a mistake, and while he would have dearly loved to wipe the floor with the sorry little bugger, there were too many witnesses about and words would have to do. His arm slid back around Hermione’s waist, and he bowed his head a few degrees in the other woman’s direction.
"Miss Greengrass, a pleasure, but I should point out that Draco omitted a few things in his summary of their school years. Miss Granger, unlike the vast majority of her contemporaries," and if Severus’ eyes lit on Draco before moving back to Miss Greengrass, it was merely to make sure he was paying proper attention, "not only possesses an extremely high intelligence, but the graciousness to forgive old wrongs."
-~8~-
The young woman with Draco spoke. "Charmed. Rest assured, Mister Snape, I've heard much about Miss Granger's… talents… over the years. Her exploits are almost as legendary as your own." Hermione thought the smile Astoria gave them was far too placid to not be hiding something.
Draco let out an amused laugh and shook his head slightly. "Hardly a summary, Severus, merely an observation that much has changed over the years – although not everything. Miss Granger, I think read that you're a librarian or some such now?"
Severus' compliments, prompted by Malfoy's contemptibility as they were, had warmed Hermione. As did the arm Severus slid around her waist.
Of course, Malfoy and his annoying little chit – who was just as obnoxious as Pansy Parkinson would have been, if not more so, in Hermione's opinion – had ruined the moment by opening their mouths again.
"A librarian? That's… closer than I expected from you, Mister Malfoy. It's almost as if you've made an effort to keep track of what I've been doing. Another woman might be flattered." She turned to address the girl. "I'm the manager of Marks and Sons."
Hermione waited a beat to give that a moment to sink in. "It's a bookstore."
-~8~-
The perfectly justifiable irritation building in Snape's chest – at the cheeky Severus uttered by the other wizard – melted in amazement, and he was forced to swallow a snort. Not only had Hermione held her own – quite beautifully, in fact – but she managed to insinuate they were both dullards with nary an insult in sight. The timing had been impeccable.
"Yes, well as nice as this has been, I'm sure you'll forgive me if I whisk Hermione away so we won't miss the opening of the third act. Draco. Miss Greengrass."
Once he had drawn her away from the other two, his hand gently squeezed her waist, and he whispered, "There may be hope to make you into a Slytherin yet, my siren. Well done."
-~8~-
Hermione rolled her eyes at his newest "compliment," but smiled nevertheless. "I wouldn't have lasted long in the Slytherin dorms. Someone like Draco would have kept pushing my buttons and then I – well, then I'd probably lose my temper and hit him. Again."
That memory never failed to conjure a phantom ache in her knuckles and a wide grin. She flexed her hand as they made their way back to their spots in the theater.
Hermione perched on the edge of her seat, waiting until Severus was settled into his to scoot back and get comfortable. If that comfort meant that her leg and arm were pressed against his, so be it.
-~8~-
Hermione's actions necessitated the placing of his arm around her shoulders, which wasn't at all a hardship. As the curtain rose on the third act, and the lights finally dimmed, Severus allowed himself to relax enough to play with the strand of hair that trailed from the elegant French twist and hung so temptingly close to his hand. Leaning slightly closer, he whispered, "I've been negligent in my attentions and should be taken to task. You look quite enchanting this evening, Hermione."
-~8~-
For a moment, Hermione was completely oblivious to the action on the stage; all her senses were tuned to the man next to her. The way he touched her hair. His voice, whispering her name.
"Thank you." Her voice was far too husky for her liking. "You look very nice, yourself."
Feeling emboldened by their earlier encounter with Draco and the young Miss Greengrass, Hermione kept her unseeing gaze locked on the stage and very casually placed her hand on Severus' thigh.
-~8~-
After returning home, taking off his robe and hanging it on the blessedly silent rack, Severus slowly unbuttoned his frock coat while he walked toward the windows in the sitting room. "Your master is an idiot pretending to be a intelligent Potions master, Yorick," Severus advised the quiet bird as he passed the perch.
"It was an almost perfect evening, aside from that twit at the restaurant, of course. I think my chances of persuading Hermione that a perfect ending would have been in her bed were quite good," he remarked absently while leaning one-handed against the frame of a window. "When she put her hand on my thigh... Well, it was rather difficult not to suggest we change locations then and there. It must have addled my brain or drawn away enough blood that it scrambled what little wits I have left because – instead of pressing my advantage – I attempted to hide my amorous attentions by asking her when she wanted to work on the antidote, which in turn made her ask how dear Lorenzo was doing. I couldn't avoid the subject again without arousing her suspicions, so I told her the truth. Unadorned truth truly bites one in the arse at times," he mused. "She became somewhat distant and only allowed me to kiss her once before she let me know that she'd be here on the morrow and slipped inside her flat."
Standing up straight, Snape pressed both of his hands on the small of his back and leaned back until he heard a faint crack. Releasing a small sigh, he turned and started toward his bedroom.
"You're lucky, you stupid bird," he muttered in passing. "Your type of mate would only protest if you didn't service her when mother nature dictated." He stopped just outside the bedroom, turned his head, glared at Yorick and added, "There'll be no room in this inn for your mate or any spawn the two of you have. Find a tree or a rook or whatever the hell it is falcons use for a nest and bloody well build one before you do anything foolish." Satisfied he'd had the last word, Severus closed the door behind him and prepared for bed. Alone.
Damned inconsiderate of that stupid mouse. I should cut off his tail and feed it to him for breakfast.
Part 1 / Part 32
Rating: PG13 (possible R)
A/N - Anything you recognize, I don't own. The Harry Potter-verse belongs to J.K. Rowlings.
Thank you, Lariope, for taking time away from your own projects to beta for us. We really do appreciate it.
Part 31
Surprisingly enough, Severus had been more than mildly amused by the play and had to stifle a few laughs that had threatened to escape. He was quite curious how they were going to portray Thickey getting zapped in the arse by his wife after she discovered the full extent of his duplicity. He sincerely hoped they wouldn't leave it up to the imaginations of the audience, as they did the love scenes between Thickey and his mistress, but it would be rather difficult to give a convincing performance without the proper spells.
When the lights came up and signaled it was time for intermission, Severus found he was quite ready to stretch and perhaps obtain a glass of brandy. Rising, he smiled gently down at Hermione and asked, "Shall we?"
When Hermione agreed and they'd made their way to the aisle, Severus found a few well-placed glares opened up the crowd quite nicely. They made their way to the stairs without being hindered. His left arm was loosely around Hermione's waist as they approached the bar.
"What would you like?"
Hermione was in too good of a mood to be bothered by the way people seemed to trip over themselves to get out of Severus' way. Dinner had been rather nice, even after the less than perfect start, and the play was just as humorous as the advertising had promised. She made a mental note to look up the playwright and see if he or she had any other works.
The real reason she was in such a splendid mood probably had more to do with her current company than with food or the play. Unlike their other outing, or the times when they had visited her flat or his, this had nothing to do with books or Potions or even the burning desire to fall into the nearest bed.
After a very brief moment's reflection, she admitted that last one was still valid, but it wasn't an all-consuming need like it had been that night at her place. Not that she had any intention of doing anything about it because friends did not do things like that even when they were out on a date.
Which this was. A date. With Severus.
Hermione grinned and let her hip bump against his as they walked. "Wine. Something red, I think?"
The actions of the witch at his side made the small smile return to his face as they approached the bar. Since this was Severus' first visit to the theater, he'd been slightly apprehensive that he would commit an error of epic proportion in Hermione's presence and, therefore, had done what research he could. He knew, for example, that there would be an intermission during which they were free to move around until the next act was ready and so had been prepared when the lights were turned up. He hadn't realized what outrageous prices the vendors behind the bar would be charging and was relieved he'd prepared for unexpected expenses.
After giving Hermione the glass of wine she'd requested, Severus held his small glass of brandy up to gaze through the liquid to determine if he'd been thoroughly fleeced. He turned slightly to bring a chandelier filled with lighted candles into line and quickly dismissed his concerns over the brandy’s questionable quality when he noted who was arranged under its reflected glow.
"Oh, joy," he muttered mostly to himself and turned his head to look at Hermione. "Are you ready for a baptism of fire? We have a mutual acquaintance across the room, and it's already too late to pretend I haven't seen him because he and his date are both staring at us."
She looked around for a familiar face and quickly spotted the unmistakable blond of a Malfoy. Draco was standing with someone Hermione didn't immediately recognize, which told her it probably wasn't Pansy Parkinson, at least.
Unless Pansy finally had something done about that awful nose of hers.
A squint confirmed that even with some mind-bending magical adjustments to the infamous pug nose, there was no way Draco's companion could have been their former classmate.
"I don't suppose we could get away with a polite nod of acknowledgement and then a mad dash back to our seats or the loo?"
Taking a sip of his brandy, Severus studied the young man for a moment. He hadn't seen Draco since that last disastrous year when Snape had been headmaster at Hogwarts. He'd attempted to keep the damage to the students at the hands of the Carrows to a minimum, and the little shit hadn't helped. Remembering some of the overtures he'd made to – perhaps not befriend the swot – but keep him from being killed, Severus' eyes narrowed slightly.
"No, Hermione, that wouldn't be a wise move," he said with a small shake of his head. "If we do that, it's the same as admitting we can't stand up to his scrutiny, regard or whatever he happens to feel makes him superior, and he'd be one step ahead in the eternal chess game of Slytherin House from the Malfoy point of view. I've actually miscalculated the youngest one, it appears, so it would be wise to be on your guard. I would have wagered my salary for an entire year at Hogwarts that he batted for the other team, but it appears he doesn't, if the comely young witch by his side gives us any indication."
Turning to gauge her reaction, he raised a brow, along with his elbow and added, "We shall, if you're willing, take the appropriate steps and allow them the idea they're holding court as they probably won't budge from their spot. From what I gather, Lucius and Narcissa used to do the same."
The thought of giving Draco Malfoy the upper hand in anything was repugnant, but Severus had made an excellent point that disappearing without a word would give the wrong impression.
She could stubbornly stand her ground and attempt to force Malfoy and his girlfriend to come to her... or she could go over there and get things over with so she could go back to enjoying her evening with Severus. Plus, the sooner they finished a brief conversation with Draco, the sooner she could drag Severus away and ask him what had made him think Draco Malfoy was gay. Somehow, she doubted it was anything as juicy as having walked in on a full-blown orgy in the Slytherin Quidditch locker room, but there had to be something for Severus to base his opinion on, surely.
Hermione linked her arm with his and plastered a polite smile on her lips. "All right, let's do this."
Ah, the infamous Malfoy tilt to the chin. He’s managed it quite well for one so young.
Stopping a comfortable distance away from the self-appointed royalty, Snape raised an eyebrow before tilting his own head to the side. "Mister Malfoy, what a… pleasant… surprise. You remember Miss Granger, do you not?"
Draco’s nod of acknowledgement at their approach, in Severus’ opinion, had been only slightly condescending, and – because of that – his initial greeting to the Malfoy heir had lacked any malice. Draco’s opening salvo, "Mister Snape, Miss Granger. Allow me to introduce Astoria Greengrass. Miss Granger, you may remember her sister, Daphne. She was in the same year we were, back in our school days," had him thinking it might be a tolerable exchange if they were able to depart in the next few moments. Then Draco widened his eyes a trifle and a little smirk appeared on his face.
There’s a saying somewhere about counting ones chickens before they’re hatched.
With that disgusting little smirk still on his face, Draco said, "But of course, we were children then and much has changed. Just look at the two of you. I would certainly never have imagined this turn-about in relations."
Snape, once again, acknowledged a mistake, and while he would have dearly loved to wipe the floor with the sorry little bugger, there were too many witnesses about and words would have to do. His arm slid back around Hermione’s waist, and he bowed his head a few degrees in the other woman’s direction.
"Miss Greengrass, a pleasure, but I should point out that Draco omitted a few things in his summary of their school years. Miss Granger, unlike the vast majority of her contemporaries," and if Severus’ eyes lit on Draco before moving back to Miss Greengrass, it was merely to make sure he was paying proper attention, "not only possesses an extremely high intelligence, but the graciousness to forgive old wrongs."
The young woman with Draco spoke. "Charmed. Rest assured, Mister Snape, I've heard much about Miss Granger's… talents… over the years. Her exploits are almost as legendary as your own." Hermione thought the smile Astoria gave them was far too placid to not be hiding something.
Draco let out an amused laugh and shook his head slightly. "Hardly a summary, Severus, merely an observation that much has changed over the years – although not everything. Miss Granger, I think read that you're a librarian or some such now?"
Severus' compliments, prompted by Malfoy's contemptibility as they were, had warmed Hermione. As did the arm Severus slid around her waist.
Of course, Malfoy and his annoying little chit – who was just as obnoxious as Pansy Parkinson would have been, if not more so, in Hermione's opinion – had ruined the moment by opening their mouths again.
"A librarian? That's… closer than I expected from you, Mister Malfoy. It's almost as if you've made an effort to keep track of what I've been doing. Another woman might be flattered." She turned to address the girl. "I'm the manager of Marks and Sons."
Hermione waited a beat to give that a moment to sink in. "It's a bookstore."
The perfectly justifiable irritation building in Snape's chest – at the cheeky Severus uttered by the other wizard – melted in amazement, and he was forced to swallow a snort. Not only had Hermione held her own – quite beautifully, in fact – but she managed to insinuate they were both dullards with nary an insult in sight. The timing had been impeccable.
"Yes, well as nice as this has been, I'm sure you'll forgive me if I whisk Hermione away so we won't miss the opening of the third act. Draco. Miss Greengrass."
Once he had drawn her away from the other two, his hand gently squeezed her waist, and he whispered, "There may be hope to make you into a Slytherin yet, my siren. Well done."
Hermione rolled her eyes at his newest "compliment," but smiled nevertheless. "I wouldn't have lasted long in the Slytherin dorms. Someone like Draco would have kept pushing my buttons and then I – well, then I'd probably lose my temper and hit him. Again."
That memory never failed to conjure a phantom ache in her knuckles and a wide grin. She flexed her hand as they made their way back to their spots in the theater.
Hermione perched on the edge of her seat, waiting until Severus was settled into his to scoot back and get comfortable. If that comfort meant that her leg and arm were pressed against his, so be it.
Hermione's actions necessitated the placing of his arm around her shoulders, which wasn't at all a hardship. As the curtain rose on the third act, and the lights finally dimmed, Severus allowed himself to relax enough to play with the strand of hair that trailed from the elegant French twist and hung so temptingly close to his hand. Leaning slightly closer, he whispered, "I've been negligent in my attentions and should be taken to task. You look quite enchanting this evening, Hermione."
For a moment, Hermione was completely oblivious to the action on the stage; all her senses were tuned to the man next to her. The way he touched her hair. His voice, whispering her name.
"Thank you." Her voice was far too husky for her liking. "You look very nice, yourself."
Feeling emboldened by their earlier encounter with Draco and the young Miss Greengrass, Hermione kept her unseeing gaze locked on the stage and very casually placed her hand on Severus' thigh.
After returning home, taking off his robe and hanging it on the blessedly silent rack, Severus slowly unbuttoned his frock coat while he walked toward the windows in the sitting room. "Your master is an idiot pretending to be a intelligent Potions master, Yorick," Severus advised the quiet bird as he passed the perch.
"It was an almost perfect evening, aside from that twit at the restaurant, of course. I think my chances of persuading Hermione that a perfect ending would have been in her bed were quite good," he remarked absently while leaning one-handed against the frame of a window. "When she put her hand on my thigh... Well, it was rather difficult not to suggest we change locations then and there. It must have addled my brain or drawn away enough blood that it scrambled what little wits I have left because – instead of pressing my advantage – I attempted to hide my amorous attentions by asking her when she wanted to work on the antidote, which in turn made her ask how dear Lorenzo was doing. I couldn't avoid the subject again without arousing her suspicions, so I told her the truth. Unadorned truth truly bites one in the arse at times," he mused. "She became somewhat distant and only allowed me to kiss her once before she let me know that she'd be here on the morrow and slipped inside her flat."
Standing up straight, Snape pressed both of his hands on the small of his back and leaned back until he heard a faint crack. Releasing a small sigh, he turned and started toward his bedroom.
"You're lucky, you stupid bird," he muttered in passing. "Your type of mate would only protest if you didn't service her when mother nature dictated." He stopped just outside the bedroom, turned his head, glared at Yorick and added, "There'll be no room in this inn for your mate or any spawn the two of you have. Find a tree or a rook or whatever the hell it is falcons use for a nest and bloody well build one before you do anything foolish." Satisfied he'd had the last word, Severus closed the door behind him and prepared for bed. Alone.
Damned inconsiderate of that stupid mouse. I should cut off his tail and feed it to him for breakfast.
Part 1 / Part 32