Completing a Ritual Quiz
A round of applause for anubisankh for thinking up this quiz theme! I must say I never realized so many rituals in the magical world involved hot sexxors. Good news for the fangirls! Enjoy.
Match the story to the quote:
For Whom the Kettle Whistles by Lulabelle
Revenant by NegativeNine (abandoned)
Blood of the Virgin Witch by selened
Looking for Magic by hypnobarb1 (abandoned)
For Someone Special by ladyofthemasque
Anam Cara by DistinctiveVagueness (abandoned)
Chosen by Desire by snarkywench-64
The Summoning by bambu345 (abandoned)
Cloak of Courage by wendynat
A Dish Served Cold by barriequark (abandoned)
Rite by alwaysimploding
The Problem with Purity by Phoenix.writing
1. She hardly seemed aware of him, anyway. Her face was lifted, bathed in white light and surrounded by her cinnamon curls, which moved slowly as if they had a life of their own. If he hadn´t known better, he would have thought that she was somehow communicating with that distant space orb, that it was calling out to her, waiting.
Somehow, he felt a need to evoke some normality, to break through this strange mood and force her back.
”You do know, miss Granger...” He attempted a signature snarl but failed miserably, his voice breaking when a shudder of fear sent chills down his spine. ”I mean,” he continued, ”you do realize that the moon is quite an evil force, nothing with which you should trifle.”
”Yeees,” her voice was a slow whisper, ”but then again, it speaks to me, to my very core, and I´m thinking… that maybe goodness is overestimated.”
She turned to face him, her eyes unnaturally black in her pale face, and he found he couldn´t look away, couldn´t break their gaze.
She stretched her arms towards him, calling to him, and he complied. Moving like a man underwater, he reached for her.
When he stepped into the moonlight and touched her, he felt the presence of something hard, something immobile and harsh. There was ancient magic here, magic that spoke of cold determination and maybe…evil? No, not evil, but darkness. Sorrow and madness and eternal loneliness. And it smelled of ice and dust and all things whithered, a smell so profoundly recognizable that it made him stumble and fall down on his knees.
2. And then her fingers finished unbuttoning his shirt, and her warm hands explored his chest… he lightly ran his tongue along her collarbone, reaching the center notch just as her fingers trailed across the scar over his breastbone, and the Call rose with a swiftness that almost couldn’t be denied.
Bind her to you.
Mark her.
Red formed at the corners of his vision and he opened his mouth over her neck, teeth just pressing against the skin… her gasp, dimly heard, caused him to pause and he trembled, resisting with all of his will…
BIND HER TO YOU.
…strength of will…
No!
He pulled his head back suddenly, breathing heavily, and grabbed her hands before they could graze the scar again… before they could awaken the Call again…
3. Minerva had turned and placed a reassuring hand on Harry’s shoulder. “You mustn’t concern yourselves. She hasn’t been taken by You Know Who.”
“How do you know?” Ron had asked.
“If what Professor McGonagall is suggesting is correct, then our dear Miss Granger has been chosen for the Gifting.” Albus’ eyes had regained their customary twinkle.
Snape’s sharp intake of breath had indicated that he alone, other than Minerva, knew what Albus was referring to. “That is just a legend,” he’d scoffed.
“Oh, no.” Albus had moved out from behind the desk. “It is very real, and very much a part of the modern wizarding world.” He’d stopped beside Minerva, placing a hand on her lower back. “Ask Minerva… she was the last Hogwarts recipient.”
4. I never thought that at the age of forty, I would be dealing with dating issues. I shall have to add some items to the list for the Claiming contract.
No curfew for dates. (Note to self: Think of a better term than date) I will bring Hermione back to the Burrow at a reasonable hour of our choice. Under most circumstances, midnight or 1 am would be reasonable. We should refrain from overnight visits, given that I do not wish anyone to think that I am only interested in one thing or do not respect my girlfriend. (Note to self: Continue to work on coming up with a better term than girlfriend.)
Courting couples usually have chaperones.
Most courting couples have not created the Virgo Curato.
Maybe we should skip Claiming and go directly to elopement.
Perhaps, I should stop thinking about this since Hermione and I agree that there is too much we do not know about each other outside of a Potions classroom or laboratory. It is too soon to think about a permanent arrangement. Hermione has college to finish. We have a war to win and only Merlin knows what will come after that.
5. Training was every bit as horrible as they had worried it would be. Severus waited four days, just long enough for them to hope that maybe he'd given up on it for the rest of the holiday-because clearly, putting the three of them in a room together was a Bad Plan-but then he abruptly told them at breakfast that they would be training with him in thirty minutes. Since they'd given up on expecting adequate notice when he was in this sort of mood, they simply finished eating their breakfast, hurried down to change into the appropriate clothing, and made their way directly to Room One.
It was just like those first days after the Pure Adults had been announced in the Prophet. Severus spent two days throwing everything he had at them, leaving them bruised and battered when stray curses got through their shielding. He was belittling of their abilities and censorious of how they worked together, and both of them found that this didn't tend to make them work better. It was stressful and tiring, and it was exactly what they didn't need for their Christmas holiday.
6. He looked up again, eyebrows raised in surprise. "Why, you're quite bright. I thought by now that you would've figured that part out. Just you, my lovely little whore. Just you." He smiled to himself as he began tracing another pattern on her skin with the stick. "Oh, yes. And I think that with one such as you, I should be guaranteed a good twenty years. Not like Sarah. It's been fifteen, and as you can see, she has really outlived her utility. Weak. Weak, weren't you, Sarah?" A hacking cough replied, and Hill went on. "Virgin. I thought that virgins were the key. I spent much of the last seventy-five years concentrating on virgins, when I should have been looking for whores."
"Not... a whore! Let... me go!" Hermione said, spitting with anger. She could feel a bit of her strength returning, and she strained against the straps. Hill put a hand to her shoulder, but when she did not cease her struggle, he opened the metal buckles briefly and then yanked the straps tighter, until the leather bit into her skin.
"Now, see, I should be angry with you." He waggled a finger at her. "And perhaps I shall be, later. Perhaps," he said, leaning down to whisper against her lips, "perhaps when I consummate our union, I shall not take pity on you. The first time is always the hardest." His breath smelled rancid, and Hermione crinkled her nose, turning her head away.
7. Susan Bones was walking through the library with a pile of books in her arms when a wave of drowsiness came over her. She found herself moving in slow motion and watched as her books tumbled from her hands. She saw her body fall over and yet she was still standing there staring down at her own limp form.
Her friends rushed over to her and someone was calling out for Madam Pomfrey.
“But you’re a Hufflepuff!” Came an aggrieved voice from somewhere nearby and Susan spun around.
Standing before her was Draco Malfoy, looking rather wispy and transparent, like one of the ghosts.
“So?” Susan put her hands on her hips and stared him straight in the eye. “What has that got to do with anything?” He opened his mouth and then shut it again.
“My father is going to kill me.” He answered finally and there was something in his voice, a tremor that told her that he was being utterly serious.
“Why?” She moved towards him and found that she had walked straight through a table. Looking down at her body where it stuck out of the surface disconcerted her.
“Because you are my other half.” Susan blinked in confusion. What on earth was the ferret boy talking about? “If my other half is a Hufflepuff, what does that make me?” He sounded genuinely upset, as though he figured out that he was gay or something. The words finally registered though and a flash of illumination filled in the blanks for Susan.
8. “After the ceremony my Lord told me that he was displeased by the events and that the Initiation would not have taken place so soon had he not been confident in Draco’s assessment of Miss Granger. He has commissioned me to command her affections, in the hope of gathering more information for him. I am at a loss to predict his actions over the next week or so now that he has moved too soon.”
“What of Lucius? Losing his only child must be a severe blow.”
“It was. He was not a warm father. He didn’t know how to be but he loved Draco. He contained himself through the ceremony and I helped him bring the body home. I would have been back earlier but to deny him assistance after that would have been suspicious and my….”
“We understand Severus. You were friends as boys and you were Draco’s Godfather. You are allowed to mourn him and what he might have been.”
9. Given that fact, she only had a little over a month to complete her research and prepare the ritual. In the last week, Hermione had practically abandoned her schoolwork, turning in perfunctory assignments to the quizzical astonishment of her professors while haunting the library. Food and sleep had been minor considerations. She’d taken the time from her research, however, for her D.A. practices and her Occlumency lessons with Professor Snape. For a moment, she let her thoughts drift to her tutorials with the increasingly intriguing Professor. As vitriolic as ever in the classroom and in public, once she, Ron, and the Professor were in the privacy of McGonagall’s chambers - another refreshing eye opener, seeing their Head of House in lilac flowered casual robes and nose buried in a book -- the Potions master’s public persona dropped from his shoulders like the shedding of an outer garment. Whether or not it was a deliberate ploy on Snape’s part to counteract the pejorative impression they’d been given by Harry’s experience with the wizard, Hermione didn’t know - perhaps it was a reward for her and Ron’s discretion -- but the private wizard she and Ron been introduced to was a vastly superior being to the one they saw daily stalking the halls of Hogwarts. He was incisive and brilliant, but he tempered his caustic comments, and Hermione privately thought that, if he’d ever allow his private self to teach, he’d be far more successful.
10. The better to provide a non-slick surface, a traitorous voice in his head whispered. Wouldn’t want to slip during the ceremony.
A robed figure brushed past him, disrupting his thoughts. Startled he turned to look behind him and saw a procession of figures, all heavily cowled and cloaked in thick ornate robes, striding into the room. He watched, mesmerized as they filed past him and began to shut the heavy doors, blocking out the sounds of the cells. As the heavy thud of the doors closing was replaced by the faint hum of magical wards locking into place, Severus turned his attention back to the figures that encircled him and the stone altar.
They were faceless, hidden in the shadows of silk and velvet, warded and protected by the silvers and golds that had been woven into their clothing and draped across their figures, denying them of any humanity; in the torchlight they were figures of shadows and veiled intents.
As the first two figures stepped up to him and motioned him towards the altar, Severus knew that he was in Hell. They stepped closer to him, gloved hands held outwards in a gesture of guidance and gentleness. His body shook with his mind’s desire to fight and to flee; to struggle and escape. But with a heavy feeling in his stomach that almost caused him to drop to his knees, his will left him, and he was stranded before those dark caricatures of justice, himself a dark and damned thing.
Match the story to the quote:
For Whom the Kettle Whistles by Lulabelle
Revenant by NegativeNine (abandoned)
Blood of the Virgin Witch by selened
Looking for Magic by hypnobarb1 (abandoned)
For Someone Special by ladyofthemasque
Anam Cara by DistinctiveVagueness (abandoned)
Chosen by Desire by snarkywench-64
The Summoning by bambu345 (abandoned)
Cloak of Courage by wendynat
A Dish Served Cold by barriequark (abandoned)
Rite by alwaysimploding
The Problem with Purity by Phoenix.writing
1. She hardly seemed aware of him, anyway. Her face was lifted, bathed in white light and surrounded by her cinnamon curls, which moved slowly as if they had a life of their own. If he hadn´t known better, he would have thought that she was somehow communicating with that distant space orb, that it was calling out to her, waiting.
Somehow, he felt a need to evoke some normality, to break through this strange mood and force her back.
”You do know, miss Granger...” He attempted a signature snarl but failed miserably, his voice breaking when a shudder of fear sent chills down his spine. ”I mean,” he continued, ”you do realize that the moon is quite an evil force, nothing with which you should trifle.”
”Yeees,” her voice was a slow whisper, ”but then again, it speaks to me, to my very core, and I´m thinking… that maybe goodness is overestimated.”
She turned to face him, her eyes unnaturally black in her pale face, and he found he couldn´t look away, couldn´t break their gaze.
She stretched her arms towards him, calling to him, and he complied. Moving like a man underwater, he reached for her.
When he stepped into the moonlight and touched her, he felt the presence of something hard, something immobile and harsh. There was ancient magic here, magic that spoke of cold determination and maybe…evil? No, not evil, but darkness. Sorrow and madness and eternal loneliness. And it smelled of ice and dust and all things whithered, a smell so profoundly recognizable that it made him stumble and fall down on his knees.
2. And then her fingers finished unbuttoning his shirt, and her warm hands explored his chest… he lightly ran his tongue along her collarbone, reaching the center notch just as her fingers trailed across the scar over his breastbone, and the Call rose with a swiftness that almost couldn’t be denied.
Bind her to you.
Mark her.
Red formed at the corners of his vision and he opened his mouth over her neck, teeth just pressing against the skin… her gasp, dimly heard, caused him to pause and he trembled, resisting with all of his will…
BIND HER TO YOU.
…strength of will…
No!
He pulled his head back suddenly, breathing heavily, and grabbed her hands before they could graze the scar again… before they could awaken the Call again…
3. Minerva had turned and placed a reassuring hand on Harry’s shoulder. “You mustn’t concern yourselves. She hasn’t been taken by You Know Who.”
“How do you know?” Ron had asked.
“If what Professor McGonagall is suggesting is correct, then our dear Miss Granger has been chosen for the Gifting.” Albus’ eyes had regained their customary twinkle.
Snape’s sharp intake of breath had indicated that he alone, other than Minerva, knew what Albus was referring to. “That is just a legend,” he’d scoffed.
“Oh, no.” Albus had moved out from behind the desk. “It is very real, and very much a part of the modern wizarding world.” He’d stopped beside Minerva, placing a hand on her lower back. “Ask Minerva… she was the last Hogwarts recipient.”
4. I never thought that at the age of forty, I would be dealing with dating issues. I shall have to add some items to the list for the Claiming contract.
No curfew for dates. (Note to self: Think of a better term than date) I will bring Hermione back to the Burrow at a reasonable hour of our choice. Under most circumstances, midnight or 1 am would be reasonable. We should refrain from overnight visits, given that I do not wish anyone to think that I am only interested in one thing or do not respect my girlfriend. (Note to self: Continue to work on coming up with a better term than girlfriend.)
Courting couples usually have chaperones.
Most courting couples have not created the Virgo Curato.
Maybe we should skip Claiming and go directly to elopement.
Perhaps, I should stop thinking about this since Hermione and I agree that there is too much we do not know about each other outside of a Potions classroom or laboratory. It is too soon to think about a permanent arrangement. Hermione has college to finish. We have a war to win and only Merlin knows what will come after that.
5. Training was every bit as horrible as they had worried it would be. Severus waited four days, just long enough for them to hope that maybe he'd given up on it for the rest of the holiday-because clearly, putting the three of them in a room together was a Bad Plan-but then he abruptly told them at breakfast that they would be training with him in thirty minutes. Since they'd given up on expecting adequate notice when he was in this sort of mood, they simply finished eating their breakfast, hurried down to change into the appropriate clothing, and made their way directly to Room One.
It was just like those first days after the Pure Adults had been announced in the Prophet. Severus spent two days throwing everything he had at them, leaving them bruised and battered when stray curses got through their shielding. He was belittling of their abilities and censorious of how they worked together, and both of them found that this didn't tend to make them work better. It was stressful and tiring, and it was exactly what they didn't need for their Christmas holiday.
6. He looked up again, eyebrows raised in surprise. "Why, you're quite bright. I thought by now that you would've figured that part out. Just you, my lovely little whore. Just you." He smiled to himself as he began tracing another pattern on her skin with the stick. "Oh, yes. And I think that with one such as you, I should be guaranteed a good twenty years. Not like Sarah. It's been fifteen, and as you can see, she has really outlived her utility. Weak. Weak, weren't you, Sarah?" A hacking cough replied, and Hill went on. "Virgin. I thought that virgins were the key. I spent much of the last seventy-five years concentrating on virgins, when I should have been looking for whores."
"Not... a whore! Let... me go!" Hermione said, spitting with anger. She could feel a bit of her strength returning, and she strained against the straps. Hill put a hand to her shoulder, but when she did not cease her struggle, he opened the metal buckles briefly and then yanked the straps tighter, until the leather bit into her skin.
"Now, see, I should be angry with you." He waggled a finger at her. "And perhaps I shall be, later. Perhaps," he said, leaning down to whisper against her lips, "perhaps when I consummate our union, I shall not take pity on you. The first time is always the hardest." His breath smelled rancid, and Hermione crinkled her nose, turning her head away.
7. Susan Bones was walking through the library with a pile of books in her arms when a wave of drowsiness came over her. She found herself moving in slow motion and watched as her books tumbled from her hands. She saw her body fall over and yet she was still standing there staring down at her own limp form.
Her friends rushed over to her and someone was calling out for Madam Pomfrey.
“But you’re a Hufflepuff!” Came an aggrieved voice from somewhere nearby and Susan spun around.
Standing before her was Draco Malfoy, looking rather wispy and transparent, like one of the ghosts.
“So?” Susan put her hands on her hips and stared him straight in the eye. “What has that got to do with anything?” He opened his mouth and then shut it again.
“My father is going to kill me.” He answered finally and there was something in his voice, a tremor that told her that he was being utterly serious.
“Why?” She moved towards him and found that she had walked straight through a table. Looking down at her body where it stuck out of the surface disconcerted her.
“Because you are my other half.” Susan blinked in confusion. What on earth was the ferret boy talking about? “If my other half is a Hufflepuff, what does that make me?” He sounded genuinely upset, as though he figured out that he was gay or something. The words finally registered though and a flash of illumination filled in the blanks for Susan.
8. “After the ceremony my Lord told me that he was displeased by the events and that the Initiation would not have taken place so soon had he not been confident in Draco’s assessment of Miss Granger. He has commissioned me to command her affections, in the hope of gathering more information for him. I am at a loss to predict his actions over the next week or so now that he has moved too soon.”
“What of Lucius? Losing his only child must be a severe blow.”
“It was. He was not a warm father. He didn’t know how to be but he loved Draco. He contained himself through the ceremony and I helped him bring the body home. I would have been back earlier but to deny him assistance after that would have been suspicious and my….”
“We understand Severus. You were friends as boys and you were Draco’s Godfather. You are allowed to mourn him and what he might have been.”
9. Given that fact, she only had a little over a month to complete her research and prepare the ritual. In the last week, Hermione had practically abandoned her schoolwork, turning in perfunctory assignments to the quizzical astonishment of her professors while haunting the library. Food and sleep had been minor considerations. She’d taken the time from her research, however, for her D.A. practices and her Occlumency lessons with Professor Snape. For a moment, she let her thoughts drift to her tutorials with the increasingly intriguing Professor. As vitriolic as ever in the classroom and in public, once she, Ron, and the Professor were in the privacy of McGonagall’s chambers - another refreshing eye opener, seeing their Head of House in lilac flowered casual robes and nose buried in a book -- the Potions master’s public persona dropped from his shoulders like the shedding of an outer garment. Whether or not it was a deliberate ploy on Snape’s part to counteract the pejorative impression they’d been given by Harry’s experience with the wizard, Hermione didn’t know - perhaps it was a reward for her and Ron’s discretion -- but the private wizard she and Ron been introduced to was a vastly superior being to the one they saw daily stalking the halls of Hogwarts. He was incisive and brilliant, but he tempered his caustic comments, and Hermione privately thought that, if he’d ever allow his private self to teach, he’d be far more successful.
10. The better to provide a non-slick surface, a traitorous voice in his head whispered. Wouldn’t want to slip during the ceremony.
A robed figure brushed past him, disrupting his thoughts. Startled he turned to look behind him and saw a procession of figures, all heavily cowled and cloaked in thick ornate robes, striding into the room. He watched, mesmerized as they filed past him and began to shut the heavy doors, blocking out the sounds of the cells. As the heavy thud of the doors closing was replaced by the faint hum of magical wards locking into place, Severus turned his attention back to the figures that encircled him and the stone altar.
They were faceless, hidden in the shadows of silk and velvet, warded and protected by the silvers and golds that had been woven into their clothing and draped across their figures, denying them of any humanity; in the torchlight they were figures of shadows and veiled intents.
As the first two figures stepped up to him and motioned him towards the altar, Severus knew that he was in Hell. They stepped closer to him, gloved hands held outwards in a gesture of guidance and gentleness. His body shook with his mind’s desire to fight and to flee; to struggle and escape. But with a heavy feeling in his stomach that almost caused him to drop to his knees, his will left him, and he was stranded before those dark caricatures of justice, himself a dark and damned thing.