Job Qualifications (continued)
Title: Job Qualifications
Team Name: Death Eaters
Word Count: (7 x 100, total)
Rating: PG
Challenge: Bodyguard
Characters: Hermione/Severus, Kingsley Shacklebolt, plus one hapless OC
A/N: The last four drabbles. Parts I, II and III are at http://community.livejournal.com/grangersnape100/1130199.html
Basic Disclaimer: JKR owns the stuff you recognize. No money is being made here.
IV.
It all happened very quickly. (As usual.)
The problem was not the man across the street, but the supermarket trolley beside him piled high with rags, plastic bags and a Disillusioned former Death Eater.
Snape had barely registered this when his breath left his body in an undignified woof. From his position on the pavement, securely tucked beneath Granger’s shapely (don’t notice!) bum, he felt rather than saw the curse whoosh harmlessly overhead.
“Stupefy!” Granger roared.
She continued roaring nearly nonstop, with brief interruptions to secure Snape’s attacker with state-of-the-art security charms and to Obliviate the Death Eater’s unwitting host.
V.
In a nearby alley, he remembered to cast Muffliato and Do Not Notice, thank Merlin. What she lacked in profanity, she more than made up for in volume.
“You do NOT cross between me and a suspicious target, ever. EVER! Are you listening?”
He was listening. And looking. And remembering the feel of her astride him. (Stop remembering that.)
“You utterly exasperating … pighead! For one last time: I. Am. The. Bodyguard!”
With every word she lunged another step toward him, driving him backward. He hit a wall.
“Dammit!” she swore at last, yanking him down for a hungry kiss.
VI.
He waited on a bench outside Shacklebolt’s office, having given a rather circumspect account of the attack. The rest was his own damned business.
She emerged, shaking hands with Shacklebolt, who beamed Ministerial approval. Snape rose. Granger’s expression was uncharacteristically evasive.
“Coffee?” she asked as they left.
“Are you daft?”
“Drink, then.”
“Better.”
Over pints in the dim pub, her silences were notably long, for her.
“Sorry,” she muttered into her glass. “The alley, I mean. Completely unprofessional.”
She took a deep breath, giving him a direct look at last.
“I shall quite understand if you prefer a different bodyguard.”
VII.
This had to be handled carefully, he saw. “I don’t want one.”
“Ridiculous. You’re a prime target. You must have a bodyguard.”
“My current bodyguard has impeccable qualifications,” he clarified.
“Oh.” She traced a pattern on the tabletop. “Such as?”
“Extensive combat experience. Superior judgment.” He smirked. “Top-notch people skills.”
“As if those matter.”
“On the contrary.” He covered her hand with his own. “They are … crucial.”
Much later, in her flat, she murmured against his ear:
“Another qualification of mine: Willing to perform other duties to disguise true purpose of employment.”
“What other duties?”
“I’ll think of something.”
- FIN-
One last A/N: Hermione paraphrased her tidbits about the bodyguarding profession from Kenneth Eichle’s fascinating article, “The Training and Skills You Need to Become a Bodyguard,” which can be read at www.articlesbase.com. The comment about fending off four unarmed attackers can be found at www.bodyguard-job.com.