Fic: "Masquerade" for vanityfair00
Gift for: vanityfair00
Author: dream_labyrinth
Title: Masquerade
Pairing: Severus/Hermione
Rating: G
Summary: Hermione is invited to an unusual event by an unlikely person.
Hermione nervously crumpled the letter in her hands as she stared at the array of bottles, pots and tubes on the table. More and more she thought that this was a terribly bad idea.
When she had first gotten Snape’s note, she had wanted to burn it immediately. But then the logical part of her mind had won over and she had read it.
And now she was here, asking Parvati Patil for help to look like somebody completely different, and intending to spend an evening with the exact group of people she had been trying to fight for ages.
Parvati smiled at her. “Just you wait what we can do with you! This is going to be great!”
Hermione grinned wryly. “Sure.”
She sat down on the chair in front of the mirror and eyed her reflection suspiciously while Parvati washed her hair.
It definitely was a bad idea.
“Tadaa!” Parvati held up a pair of scissors with a triumphant look. “You sure you want that?” she asked, but as she had already started cutting, Hermione didn’t bother to answer. She watched as her hair was cut to shoulder length.
Then Parvati picked up some of the suspicious containers on the table. “It would be faster to do it by magic, though,” she said doubtfully.
Hermione shook her head. “No magic.” She grabbed the letter tightly and took a deep breath as her friend applied a layer of white goo on the meagre remains of her hair.
Several hours later, a young woman with blonde hair left Parvati’s house. Her blue eyes seemed rather teary, but her dark red lips were pressed together in a determined way. She walked down the street, slightly uneasy on the high heels of her black sandals. Whenever a passer-by eyed her with too much interest, she shot them an intimidating glance that made them quickly turn away from the level of her short skirt or low neckline.
She softly cursed whenever a heel got caught in a crack of the uneven pavement, wishing she had never agreed to this stupid plan.
After reading the instructions in the letter once again, she pulled out a lighter and burnt the parchment. When the flames had almost reached her fingers, she dropped the letter and watched as it turned to ashes. Then she breathed deeply and turned around the corner into a narrow alley.
In the little light a solitary street light provided, she saw a man waiting. His pale face seemed to shine out from under the black hood he was wearing. She stepped closer, her hand reaching for the can of pepper spray in her purse.
“I believe you have been expecting me.”
He stared. He blinked slowly. He slowly let his eyes wander from the blonde hair to the black heels and back again.
“Miss Granger?” he asked, incredulous.
She smiled slightly. “I hope this is enough of a disguise, Professor.”
He blinked a few times. “Certainly, Miss Granger. It is good to see that you make some use of Muggle means of beautification. A pity you don’t apply them regularly.”
She snorted. “Well, at least I don’t usually look like I’m living in a place with no running water.”
He suddenly seemed a good deal taller and much more intimidating. “My appearance, Miss Granger, is not a matter of discussion. You would do well to remember what I am.”
The darkness gave her courage she didn’t know she had. “What you are? Like, a murderer? Or a traitor?”
He grabbed her shoulder tightly and opened his mouth to answer, but then his grip relaxed and he turned to one end of the road. “We still have some minutes to go, so we should hurry. You have been late.”
She had to hurry to keep up with him. Her feet hurt in the new shoes. After a few minutes, she stopped and tried to pull the leather straps into a more comfortable position. “Okay, if I am supposed to do any walking or standing later this evening, you have to slow down. The shoes are killing me!”
He turned to her. “I would have thought you smart enough not to wear brand new shoes tonight.”
She shot him a murderous look. “If I had known about this a bit earlier than this morning, I might have been able to. But I don’t actually own any high heels, you know.”
He sighed. “I hope you don’t expect me to carry you. You are likely too heavy for that.”
She stood up straight again. “Never mind. I would never ask any sort of service from you.” Without looking at him, she passed him and continued walking down the road.
With a few steps he caught up with her. “You really need more practice when it comes to sarcasm, Miss... Vivian.” At the last word, his tone changed from the haughty aggressiveness she was used to hear from her former teacher to an almost friendly voice that could make a stranger think they were friends.
She took only a moment to remember that she was supposed to be Vivian. Then she noticed the couple coming towards them. As they walked into the light of a lamp, she recognised the Lestranges.
The game was on.
She heard Professor Snape introduce her as Vivian LeGrange, potions expert. She had read that name in professional journals before and knew that nobody had seen the real Ms LeGrange in years, but she still felt her heart race. Wouldn’t somebody see through this masquerade?
When Bellatrix shook her hand, she had to fight the urge to pull back in disgust. It’s for Harry, she reminded herself, and forced herself to smile.
Together, the two couples went into a large building that looked empty and deserted from the outside. It took a special spell for the door to open. As they walked in, two wizards appeared, wands drawn, and carefully checked for use of magic on their bodies. Fortunately, they were the sort of people who only do their job and never care for anything besides. There was no danger in them discovering Hermione’s contact lenses, and she breathed a bit more easily.
They were ushered into a big room dominated by a long table. At the head, there stood a rather throne-like chair, while the chairs on both sides of the table were much simpler. Professor Snape led her to her chair. As she stood there, she took a good look around. They were seated only a few chairs down from the head of the table. It gave her a good idea how highly Lord Voldemort valued the potion master’s work - or probably the killing of Albus Dumbledore.
More and more people came in. She saw looks of surprise on some faces. Just like she had been told in the letter, it was the first time the Death Eaters met without a disguise. Voldemort felt sure enough of his victory to let his followers recognise each other. She smiled nastily. He would soon see that his confidence was untimely.
“You should take care,” her companion whispered into her ear. “It wouldn’t do to see Vivian LeGrange kill half the assembled Death Eaters with her looks.”
She closed her eyes for a second. “Certainly,... Severus,” she said sweetly and grinned as he moved uncomfortably.
Lord Voldemort did not appear for the dinner. While they ate, Hermione tried to memorize as many of the faces around her as she could. One man seemed to feel encouraged by her intense stare, but a single look from Snape quickly made him turn his attention to his food again.
When the last plate had been removed, the assembly started to get restless. There were several audible whispers complaining about their master’s absence. But the room fell silent immediately when a small man came in.
Hermione recognised Wormtail only because of his silver hand. He had gained weight since she had seen him last and wasn’t looking as shabby as before. He was dressed in what strongly resembled a livery. She shook her head slightly. Clearly, Lord Voldemort liked to present himself as royalty. Wormtail pulled back the throne from the table and everybody rose from their chairs. Accompanied by his snake, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named entered. Without wasting a look at his loyal followers, he walked over to his chair and sat down. Wormtail handed him a goblet of wine and he took a sip. Then he condescended to notice the existence of other people. “You may sit,” he said. His voice reminded Hermione uncomfortably of a hissing snake. She gripped the armrest of her chair tightly. To her surprise, Snape put one hand on hers and squeezed it reassuringly. She gave him a quick, uneasy smile, but he didn’t even seem to notice her existence. His eyes were fixed on the man on the head of the table.
“You are here because it is no longer necessary for us to hide,” Voldemort said. “You are here because now that Albus Dumbledore is dead, nothing can stop us.” Several people murmured an applause and nodded their approval to Snape. He didn’t react.
“You are here because the only thing that stands in our way now is the so-called Order of the Phoenix. But what is that Order? Nothing but a group of teenagers who didn’t even finish Hogwarts. The Ministry fears us. Their Aurors are helpless against us. Those wizards that do not yet support us don’t dare to speak up against us.”
Hermione fought the urge to roll her eyes. Despite the danger she would face if discovered here, she could not help thinking the whole event rather ridiculous. A formal party for Death Eaters, in Muggle clothing, celebrating a victory not even won. And while his voice intimidated her, the contents of Voldemort’s speech strongly reminded her of German propaganda of the end of Second World War.
“If we strike tonight, nothing will stop us.”
Hermione started. There had been no hint beforehand that this meeting would lead into a battle! Fortunately, others had reacted with equal surprise and she wasn’t noticed.
Voldemort held up a hand. “Quiet!” he ordered. “Nothing will happen tonight. You will know when it is time. Tonight - “ he lifted up his goblet “you may celebrate my victory.”
Hermione almost choked on an untimely fit of laughter. Quickly, she drank her wine.
A little while later, Voldemort left the room, and as soon afterwards as possible, Vivian LeGrange left with Severus Snape, as they explained to Bellatrix Lestrange, to do some work on a potion they had started earlier that evening.
Bellatrix nodded. “I am glad you chose to work with Severus, Ms LeGrange. Though I admit I am surprised. I would have thought you were older.”
Hermione felt herself blush. She smiled nervously. “Oh, it does have some advantages to know so much about the properties of potions. There are some that can do wonders for your skin. If you are interested, I can send you...”
Bellatrix excused herself quickly and turned away.
As soon as they were outside, Snape smirked. “Nobody but you would offer Bellatrix Lestrange anti-aging solutions.”
Hermione grinned, but didn’t answer.
They walked silently until they were far enough away from the house to be unobserved. Then Snape led her into a little park. They sat down on a bench, enjoying the quietness of the evening.
After a while, he broke the silence. “Did you get some information?”
She nodded. “Thank you for taking me there. I think I found some major leaks in the Ministry, and there were at least two people who have showed interest in joining the Order.” She bit her lip. “Why did you do that?”
“Ask you to join me? Do you think the Order would have believed any information coming from me?” His voice was level but she thought she heard a hint of resentment.
She shrugged. “I guess not. But then, after what you did...”
He got up quickly. “I had to. There was no other way. Albus thought Potter would understand that. But the boy will never see anything that doesn’t fit his two-dimensional view of the world.”
She took his hand, surprised at how natural the gesture felt. “He will understand, eventually. Surely when he hears what you did tonight-“
He cut her off and pulled his hand away. “No! I don’t need his understanding and I don’t need him to thank me. I’m not doing this for him.”
Hermione nodded. “Okay. But I would like to thank you. Even though you aren’t doing this for me either.”
He turned to look at her. His eyes glittered strangely. “Good night, Miss Granger.”
“Good night, Professor. And thank you.”
He was already on his way to the gate. When he had reached it, he looked back again. “By the way, I prefer your hair when it’s brown and curly.” And he was gone.
Author: dream_labyrinth
Title: Masquerade
Pairing: Severus/Hermione
Rating: G
Summary: Hermione is invited to an unusual event by an unlikely person.
Hermione nervously crumpled the letter in her hands as she stared at the array of bottles, pots and tubes on the table. More and more she thought that this was a terribly bad idea.
When she had first gotten Snape’s note, she had wanted to burn it immediately. But then the logical part of her mind had won over and she had read it.
And now she was here, asking Parvati Patil for help to look like somebody completely different, and intending to spend an evening with the exact group of people she had been trying to fight for ages.
Parvati smiled at her. “Just you wait what we can do with you! This is going to be great!”
Hermione grinned wryly. “Sure.”
She sat down on the chair in front of the mirror and eyed her reflection suspiciously while Parvati washed her hair.
It definitely was a bad idea.
“Tadaa!” Parvati held up a pair of scissors with a triumphant look. “You sure you want that?” she asked, but as she had already started cutting, Hermione didn’t bother to answer. She watched as her hair was cut to shoulder length.
Then Parvati picked up some of the suspicious containers on the table. “It would be faster to do it by magic, though,” she said doubtfully.
Hermione shook her head. “No magic.” She grabbed the letter tightly and took a deep breath as her friend applied a layer of white goo on the meagre remains of her hair.
Several hours later, a young woman with blonde hair left Parvati’s house. Her blue eyes seemed rather teary, but her dark red lips were pressed together in a determined way. She walked down the street, slightly uneasy on the high heels of her black sandals. Whenever a passer-by eyed her with too much interest, she shot them an intimidating glance that made them quickly turn away from the level of her short skirt or low neckline.
She softly cursed whenever a heel got caught in a crack of the uneven pavement, wishing she had never agreed to this stupid plan.
After reading the instructions in the letter once again, she pulled out a lighter and burnt the parchment. When the flames had almost reached her fingers, she dropped the letter and watched as it turned to ashes. Then she breathed deeply and turned around the corner into a narrow alley.
In the little light a solitary street light provided, she saw a man waiting. His pale face seemed to shine out from under the black hood he was wearing. She stepped closer, her hand reaching for the can of pepper spray in her purse.
“I believe you have been expecting me.”
He stared. He blinked slowly. He slowly let his eyes wander from the blonde hair to the black heels and back again.
“Miss Granger?” he asked, incredulous.
She smiled slightly. “I hope this is enough of a disguise, Professor.”
He blinked a few times. “Certainly, Miss Granger. It is good to see that you make some use of Muggle means of beautification. A pity you don’t apply them regularly.”
She snorted. “Well, at least I don’t usually look like I’m living in a place with no running water.”
He suddenly seemed a good deal taller and much more intimidating. “My appearance, Miss Granger, is not a matter of discussion. You would do well to remember what I am.”
The darkness gave her courage she didn’t know she had. “What you are? Like, a murderer? Or a traitor?”
He grabbed her shoulder tightly and opened his mouth to answer, but then his grip relaxed and he turned to one end of the road. “We still have some minutes to go, so we should hurry. You have been late.”
She had to hurry to keep up with him. Her feet hurt in the new shoes. After a few minutes, she stopped and tried to pull the leather straps into a more comfortable position. “Okay, if I am supposed to do any walking or standing later this evening, you have to slow down. The shoes are killing me!”
He turned to her. “I would have thought you smart enough not to wear brand new shoes tonight.”
She shot him a murderous look. “If I had known about this a bit earlier than this morning, I might have been able to. But I don’t actually own any high heels, you know.”
He sighed. “I hope you don’t expect me to carry you. You are likely too heavy for that.”
She stood up straight again. “Never mind. I would never ask any sort of service from you.” Without looking at him, she passed him and continued walking down the road.
With a few steps he caught up with her. “You really need more practice when it comes to sarcasm, Miss... Vivian.” At the last word, his tone changed from the haughty aggressiveness she was used to hear from her former teacher to an almost friendly voice that could make a stranger think they were friends.
She took only a moment to remember that she was supposed to be Vivian. Then she noticed the couple coming towards them. As they walked into the light of a lamp, she recognised the Lestranges.
The game was on.
She heard Professor Snape introduce her as Vivian LeGrange, potions expert. She had read that name in professional journals before and knew that nobody had seen the real Ms LeGrange in years, but she still felt her heart race. Wouldn’t somebody see through this masquerade?
When Bellatrix shook her hand, she had to fight the urge to pull back in disgust. It’s for Harry, she reminded herself, and forced herself to smile.
Together, the two couples went into a large building that looked empty and deserted from the outside. It took a special spell for the door to open. As they walked in, two wizards appeared, wands drawn, and carefully checked for use of magic on their bodies. Fortunately, they were the sort of people who only do their job and never care for anything besides. There was no danger in them discovering Hermione’s contact lenses, and she breathed a bit more easily.
They were ushered into a big room dominated by a long table. At the head, there stood a rather throne-like chair, while the chairs on both sides of the table were much simpler. Professor Snape led her to her chair. As she stood there, she took a good look around. They were seated only a few chairs down from the head of the table. It gave her a good idea how highly Lord Voldemort valued the potion master’s work - or probably the killing of Albus Dumbledore.
More and more people came in. She saw looks of surprise on some faces. Just like she had been told in the letter, it was the first time the Death Eaters met without a disguise. Voldemort felt sure enough of his victory to let his followers recognise each other. She smiled nastily. He would soon see that his confidence was untimely.
“You should take care,” her companion whispered into her ear. “It wouldn’t do to see Vivian LeGrange kill half the assembled Death Eaters with her looks.”
She closed her eyes for a second. “Certainly,... Severus,” she said sweetly and grinned as he moved uncomfortably.
Lord Voldemort did not appear for the dinner. While they ate, Hermione tried to memorize as many of the faces around her as she could. One man seemed to feel encouraged by her intense stare, but a single look from Snape quickly made him turn his attention to his food again.
When the last plate had been removed, the assembly started to get restless. There were several audible whispers complaining about their master’s absence. But the room fell silent immediately when a small man came in.
Hermione recognised Wormtail only because of his silver hand. He had gained weight since she had seen him last and wasn’t looking as shabby as before. He was dressed in what strongly resembled a livery. She shook her head slightly. Clearly, Lord Voldemort liked to present himself as royalty. Wormtail pulled back the throne from the table and everybody rose from their chairs. Accompanied by his snake, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named entered. Without wasting a look at his loyal followers, he walked over to his chair and sat down. Wormtail handed him a goblet of wine and he took a sip. Then he condescended to notice the existence of other people. “You may sit,” he said. His voice reminded Hermione uncomfortably of a hissing snake. She gripped the armrest of her chair tightly. To her surprise, Snape put one hand on hers and squeezed it reassuringly. She gave him a quick, uneasy smile, but he didn’t even seem to notice her existence. His eyes were fixed on the man on the head of the table.
“You are here because it is no longer necessary for us to hide,” Voldemort said. “You are here because now that Albus Dumbledore is dead, nothing can stop us.” Several people murmured an applause and nodded their approval to Snape. He didn’t react.
“You are here because the only thing that stands in our way now is the so-called Order of the Phoenix. But what is that Order? Nothing but a group of teenagers who didn’t even finish Hogwarts. The Ministry fears us. Their Aurors are helpless against us. Those wizards that do not yet support us don’t dare to speak up against us.”
Hermione fought the urge to roll her eyes. Despite the danger she would face if discovered here, she could not help thinking the whole event rather ridiculous. A formal party for Death Eaters, in Muggle clothing, celebrating a victory not even won. And while his voice intimidated her, the contents of Voldemort’s speech strongly reminded her of German propaganda of the end of Second World War.
“If we strike tonight, nothing will stop us.”
Hermione started. There had been no hint beforehand that this meeting would lead into a battle! Fortunately, others had reacted with equal surprise and she wasn’t noticed.
Voldemort held up a hand. “Quiet!” he ordered. “Nothing will happen tonight. You will know when it is time. Tonight - “ he lifted up his goblet “you may celebrate my victory.”
Hermione almost choked on an untimely fit of laughter. Quickly, she drank her wine.
A little while later, Voldemort left the room, and as soon afterwards as possible, Vivian LeGrange left with Severus Snape, as they explained to Bellatrix Lestrange, to do some work on a potion they had started earlier that evening.
Bellatrix nodded. “I am glad you chose to work with Severus, Ms LeGrange. Though I admit I am surprised. I would have thought you were older.”
Hermione felt herself blush. She smiled nervously. “Oh, it does have some advantages to know so much about the properties of potions. There are some that can do wonders for your skin. If you are interested, I can send you...”
Bellatrix excused herself quickly and turned away.
As soon as they were outside, Snape smirked. “Nobody but you would offer Bellatrix Lestrange anti-aging solutions.”
Hermione grinned, but didn’t answer.
They walked silently until they were far enough away from the house to be unobserved. Then Snape led her into a little park. They sat down on a bench, enjoying the quietness of the evening.
After a while, he broke the silence. “Did you get some information?”
She nodded. “Thank you for taking me there. I think I found some major leaks in the Ministry, and there were at least two people who have showed interest in joining the Order.” She bit her lip. “Why did you do that?”
“Ask you to join me? Do you think the Order would have believed any information coming from me?” His voice was level but she thought she heard a hint of resentment.
She shrugged. “I guess not. But then, after what you did...”
He got up quickly. “I had to. There was no other way. Albus thought Potter would understand that. But the boy will never see anything that doesn’t fit his two-dimensional view of the world.”
She took his hand, surprised at how natural the gesture felt. “He will understand, eventually. Surely when he hears what you did tonight-“
He cut her off and pulled his hand away. “No! I don’t need his understanding and I don’t need him to thank me. I’m not doing this for him.”
Hermione nodded. “Okay. But I would like to thank you. Even though you aren’t doing this for me either.”
He turned to look at her. His eyes glittered strangely. “Good night, Miss Granger.”
“Good night, Professor. And thank you.”
He was already on his way to the gate. When he had reached it, he looked back again. “By the way, I prefer your hair when it’s brown and curly.” And he was gone.