Prolific Author Series : Averygoodun
I became familiar with the inimitable averygoodun in 2005. Both of us were writing MLCs (hers was Marry a Choice and mine was His Draught of Delicate Poison) and both of us were featured on Ashwinder in the same month (I’m thinking it was October 2005 but I might be pulling that out of my bum cauldron. Curious, I began reading her story, and oh. my. god. I was hooked! She was funny, her Snape was hotter than fire, and she wasn’t afraid to Go There. In her writing career in fandom, Avery has “gone there” many times and in many different ways. She’ll take the less popular path (ANGST! She killed me with angst!), and she’ll write in your face terror (Traitor, anyone?). (Did I mention the hot Snape? ) In addition to her writing skills, averygoodun is a talented visual artist. I am the proud owner of one of her drawings - a scene from the ball in HDODP - and I have sat next to her on the floor at a fangirl gathering, watching her sketch Snape after Snape. She is also a painter! Let’s face it: our own averygoodun is a gifted creator of original things, and we are lucky to have her. If you haven't read her, you're depriving yourself of one of the extremely talented authors in SSHG fandom.
(Our heartfelt thanks go to subversa for writing this lovely introduction.)
Want to give Hermione a run for her money in the know-it-all field? Simply play the quiz by commenting on this post with your answers at any time over the weekend. All comments with answers will be screened until the answer sheet is posted on Monday morning EST. On Monday, all quizzlings with the correct answers will receive a pretty banner to prove their quiz prowess. Ready? Set? Play!
Match the quotes to the story titles without picking the red herring titles:
Shelter
A Matter of Perspective
She Married Her Choice
Miles & Miles
Closure
Dying in the Cold
Happy Birthday
All in the family
25 Dates
Snape’s Journal (abandoned?)
Traitor
Marry a Choice
Against the Wall
All Tied Up
1. Hermione stayed up half the night perfecting the questionnaire. The questionnaire itself was made up of the mundane first through third date questions: a simple way of gathering some basic information. The more important and revealing part of the survey was the charm woven throughout the questions. It was an old, if esoteric, spell that measured people's personality compatibility. Used by yentas and other matchmakers, it provided simple signs of compatibility, changeable to the magus' preference. Hermione had chosen to charm each questionnaire to turn her potential mate's name one of five colors.
If the ink stayed red, it meant the person would be utterly destructive to her well being and soul. Indigo was slightly better, indicating a corrosive influence that could be overcome, but only with difficulty. Cerulean blue was neutral, neither harmful nor helpful, but most likely not conducive to a satisfying relationship. Green and gold were the two positive colors, with gold indicating the highest potential for life long happiness and fulfillment.
2. “Stupid, stupid girl! Never turn your back on a known enemy!” he hisses into my ear. “The worst wizards always have hidden weapons at their disposal.” He flexes the hand on my hip suggestively and suddenly I find it difficult to breathe.
I’m trying to think, really, I am, but only one word fills my brain, and it is repeating at such a pace that no other thoughts can compete.
Stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid!
Why had I thought bringing him here was a good idea? Why had I released him? Why had I trusted my gut? Why? Now he is poised to slit my throat, or worse, and I deserve it for my stupidity.
“I am amazed you have survived this far into the war, Miss Granger, doing foolish things like that.” His soft, even breaths are loud in my ear; his words are quiet in comparison.
I swallow convulsively, very aware of the sharp edge bending my skin. I try to calm my breathing and my body, afraid that if I start trembling the knife will pierce the skin.
“You have placed yourself at my mercy, girl.” His voice is so quiet it’s a mere breath, but it evokes more fear than if he had yelled. I certainly am terrified at the moment. “You have given me power over you, over your body, over your life.”
3. “Well, well, aren’t you the vengeful little one?” Snape smirked in concurrence of Hermione’s ire.
Hermione looked up at him with a gleam in her eye and said, “Well, are you going to help me wreak vengeance, or shall I do it all myself?”
“We can’t do anything before the Dark Lord is defeated,” Snape said, looking down at her thoughtfully. “Circe’s assistance is too valuable. However, it seems I have to spend three hours with you tonight. We might as well use it constructively to plan for the future.”
Hermione smiled, inviting him in for some tea and plotting.
4. “Wake up, Snape.” Snape felt a sharpish jab in his ribs and groaned, trying to roll over. There was some terrible thing that was hanging over his head, but he couldn't remember what it was.
He opened his eyes to see a pair of vivid green ones staring down at him, only the face was wrong somehow. Then he remembered.
“Oh, fuck!”
A snort from above brought his attention back to the present.
“You can say that again. In fact, I think that's why I'm here.”
Snape glared up at Pot-Harry. “There's no need to be crude.”
Harry gave him a smirk that was too familiar for comfort. “Well, I'm gratified that at least we both agree this situation could be better.”
It was Snape's turn to snort, and he did. “I do believe that if you practiced, you could one day become adept at the art of understatement, Po-erm, Harry.”
Harry gave a wry grin, then offered his hand. With much reluctance, Snape took it, surprised that Harry helped pull him up. Now standing, Snape brushed himself off with as much dignity as he could muster, which, considering his garb and location, wasn't much.
5. “Peter, I... This... I-” She had no problem sounding flustered, but before she could find the right words, he put his pudgy finger to her lips and shushed her.
“I'll show you how good it can be.”
She smiled at him, but shook her head. “I'm not ready for this... yet.”
“You're just scared. I won't hurt you. I want to make you feel good.”
Her stomach clenched in fear and disgust, but he seemed to mistake her expression for insecure reluctance as he drew her back toward him for another wet kiss before lowering her to the floor.
“Don't be afraid, Hermione,” he said, stroking her arm with one finger and giving her what was meant to be a reassuring smile, though it just looked lecherous to her. He leaned forward to kiss her again, shifting his weight to allow his real hand to fondle her breasts.
6. “You’ve noticed her.”
Perhaps I should have foregone the tea and simply left while I was ahead. Instead, here I am, confronted with the smug image of myself.
“I have known Miss Granger for some time now.”
“Yes, yes, I know. But you’ve finally looked at her as more than your charge, correct?”
Something about the way he says that gives me pause. Why is he asking me? What does he want? Have I been more obvious than I thought?
“No, no one suspects you feel anything other than contempt for the girl,” my double tells me, leaning against the wall with deliberate ease and smirking mockingly.
Quickly, I shield my mind from any further invasion, but he just grins.
“I don’t need to use Legilimency to know how you feel, Severus. We are very much alike.”
“Don’t insult me.”
He snorts in amusement. “Insult you? How is it that I’ve insulted you? No one, not even Hermione, can deny how similar we are. If we exchanged places, I doubt anyone would notice, we are so similar.”
7. Severus shook his head, his eyes regretful. "No, I'm afraid the credit for this plan belongs to your Mr. Weasley. He thought the entire thing up."
She felt her shoulders tighten in anger. "I could kill him."
Severus winced. "Am I that repulsive to you?"
"You know very well that you are far from repulsive so don't even try that tack. No, I just wish he'd accept that we're done and don't need his meddling."
Severus cleared his throat quietly, and, if she hadn't been so close to him, she would have missed the tiny flash of... was that guilt?
"Severus?" she asked warningly.
He closed his eyes and rested his head next to hers again, although he kept his body light.
"I asked him."
"What?"
He raised his head back up, looking at her intently. "I miss you, Hermione. You haven't given me a chance to apologize or make it up to you, so I asked your bloody friend for help."
8. Snape watched Hermione sleep with mixed feelings. On the one hand, her falling asleep in the office meant he had to transfer her to the bed. He would have much preferred she had done that on her own steam as he wanted to expend as little energy on her as possible. On the other hand, it was nice to know that she trusted him enough to fall asleep in his presence. Almost everyone distrusted him now, so having someone who wasn't a dunderhead or insane trust him was... gratifying.
It was also rather gratifying to know that he was able to do something good for her. She had lost at least a stone since he'd last seen her, the idiot girl. He wondered what they had subsisted on over the winter. It couldn't have been either hearty or tasty though, judging by her weight, skin tone and the way she'd devoured the soup.
He would still rather she and Weasley were with Potter, though.
His mind wandered to Weasley, and he wondered if she had told the boy her feelings yet. He felt his heart ache a little for her, knowing what she would be going through soon. There was little hope Weasley would survive the wound. The only hope he had was to die without pain.
Snape snorted softly, realizing that the boy and he had something in common there.
9. Torn between the desire to find my wand, my only hope, and help the girl, I find myself walking toward the bed, sitting on it, and gently sliding my hand under the blanket to feel her temperature again. I'm confused when I find her warm.
Why is she shivering?
I begin to remove my hand, but the small movement wakes her, and she looks up at me with fear in her eyes. Ah, so she's finally recognized me. Of course it figures she would when I don't have a means of escape. I'm cursing my luck and trying to figure out an alternate escape plan when she whispers, "Please... Hold me."
This time there was no mistaking the words. I look at her, frowning, before I realize she's probably suffered some brain trauma. That would account for her being out in these woods with barely a layer of clothing on. It would also account for how she ended up in the stream.
"Miss Granger," I start, but she interrupts me.
"Please..." It's barely a breath, but her terror is loud. It's persuasion enough. I take off my damp sweater and boots, and then I climb under the blankets beside her, scooping up her frail form to hold her. As soon as my arms surround her, she lets out a relieved sigh and relaxes into me.
10. Dec. 24, 1997
Weasley saved me today. I now owe the little bugger a life debt. Granted, the look on his face when he saw whom he saved was almost worth it. The worst bit is that Potter ended the battle before I could repay the favor, so now I'm stuck in peacetime with a life debt to Ronald fucking Weasley.
I suppose at the very least I should try to find him and tell him off for saving my life. I expect that will piss him off as much as anything I could do.
Yes. I think I'll go do that.
***
Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck! Damn, stupid, idiotic, bloody infuriating Gryffindors! I must look up more ways of saying what complete morons those blighters are.
I went to find Weasley tonight and caught him just as he was coming in through the main doors, carrying Granger to the hospital wing. Physically carrying Granger. Imbecile. The girl gets injured, and he forgets he's a wizard. He doesn't even have the excuse of being raised by wolves, like Granger and Potter do. He was so distraught he didn't even see me sneering at him. He just walked, ashen, up to the hospital. Granted, I gather he and Granger were going out, and Granger did look like she was rather buggered, but really! He cracked far too easily.
(Our heartfelt thanks go to subversa for writing this lovely introduction.)
Want to give Hermione a run for her money in the know-it-all field? Simply play the quiz by commenting on this post with your answers at any time over the weekend. All comments with answers will be screened until the answer sheet is posted on Monday morning EST. On Monday, all quizzlings with the correct answers will receive a pretty banner to prove their quiz prowess. Ready? Set? Play!
Match the quotes to the story titles without picking the red herring titles:
Shelter
A Matter of Perspective
She Married Her Choice
Miles & Miles
Closure
Dying in the Cold
Happy Birthday
All in the family
25 Dates
Snape’s Journal (abandoned?)
Traitor
Marry a Choice
Against the Wall
All Tied Up
1. Hermione stayed up half the night perfecting the questionnaire. The questionnaire itself was made up of the mundane first through third date questions: a simple way of gathering some basic information. The more important and revealing part of the survey was the charm woven throughout the questions. It was an old, if esoteric, spell that measured people's personality compatibility. Used by yentas and other matchmakers, it provided simple signs of compatibility, changeable to the magus' preference. Hermione had chosen to charm each questionnaire to turn her potential mate's name one of five colors.
If the ink stayed red, it meant the person would be utterly destructive to her well being and soul. Indigo was slightly better, indicating a corrosive influence that could be overcome, but only with difficulty. Cerulean blue was neutral, neither harmful nor helpful, but most likely not conducive to a satisfying relationship. Green and gold were the two positive colors, with gold indicating the highest potential for life long happiness and fulfillment.
2. “Stupid, stupid girl! Never turn your back on a known enemy!” he hisses into my ear. “The worst wizards always have hidden weapons at their disposal.” He flexes the hand on my hip suggestively and suddenly I find it difficult to breathe.
I’m trying to think, really, I am, but only one word fills my brain, and it is repeating at such a pace that no other thoughts can compete.
Stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid!
Why had I thought bringing him here was a good idea? Why had I released him? Why had I trusted my gut? Why? Now he is poised to slit my throat, or worse, and I deserve it for my stupidity.
“I am amazed you have survived this far into the war, Miss Granger, doing foolish things like that.” His soft, even breaths are loud in my ear; his words are quiet in comparison.
I swallow convulsively, very aware of the sharp edge bending my skin. I try to calm my breathing and my body, afraid that if I start trembling the knife will pierce the skin.
“You have placed yourself at my mercy, girl.” His voice is so quiet it’s a mere breath, but it evokes more fear than if he had yelled. I certainly am terrified at the moment. “You have given me power over you, over your body, over your life.”
3. “Well, well, aren’t you the vengeful little one?” Snape smirked in concurrence of Hermione’s ire.
Hermione looked up at him with a gleam in her eye and said, “Well, are you going to help me wreak vengeance, or shall I do it all myself?”
“We can’t do anything before the Dark Lord is defeated,” Snape said, looking down at her thoughtfully. “Circe’s assistance is too valuable. However, it seems I have to spend three hours with you tonight. We might as well use it constructively to plan for the future.”
Hermione smiled, inviting him in for some tea and plotting.
4. “Wake up, Snape.” Snape felt a sharpish jab in his ribs and groaned, trying to roll over. There was some terrible thing that was hanging over his head, but he couldn't remember what it was.
He opened his eyes to see a pair of vivid green ones staring down at him, only the face was wrong somehow. Then he remembered.
“Oh, fuck!”
A snort from above brought his attention back to the present.
“You can say that again. In fact, I think that's why I'm here.”
Snape glared up at Pot-Harry. “There's no need to be crude.”
Harry gave him a smirk that was too familiar for comfort. “Well, I'm gratified that at least we both agree this situation could be better.”
It was Snape's turn to snort, and he did. “I do believe that if you practiced, you could one day become adept at the art of understatement, Po-erm, Harry.”
Harry gave a wry grin, then offered his hand. With much reluctance, Snape took it, surprised that Harry helped pull him up. Now standing, Snape brushed himself off with as much dignity as he could muster, which, considering his garb and location, wasn't much.
5. “Peter, I... This... I-” She had no problem sounding flustered, but before she could find the right words, he put his pudgy finger to her lips and shushed her.
“I'll show you how good it can be.”
She smiled at him, but shook her head. “I'm not ready for this... yet.”
“You're just scared. I won't hurt you. I want to make you feel good.”
Her stomach clenched in fear and disgust, but he seemed to mistake her expression for insecure reluctance as he drew her back toward him for another wet kiss before lowering her to the floor.
“Don't be afraid, Hermione,” he said, stroking her arm with one finger and giving her what was meant to be a reassuring smile, though it just looked lecherous to her. He leaned forward to kiss her again, shifting his weight to allow his real hand to fondle her breasts.
6. “You’ve noticed her.”
Perhaps I should have foregone the tea and simply left while I was ahead. Instead, here I am, confronted with the smug image of myself.
“I have known Miss Granger for some time now.”
“Yes, yes, I know. But you’ve finally looked at her as more than your charge, correct?”
Something about the way he says that gives me pause. Why is he asking me? What does he want? Have I been more obvious than I thought?
“No, no one suspects you feel anything other than contempt for the girl,” my double tells me, leaning against the wall with deliberate ease and smirking mockingly.
Quickly, I shield my mind from any further invasion, but he just grins.
“I don’t need to use Legilimency to know how you feel, Severus. We are very much alike.”
“Don’t insult me.”
He snorts in amusement. “Insult you? How is it that I’ve insulted you? No one, not even Hermione, can deny how similar we are. If we exchanged places, I doubt anyone would notice, we are so similar.”
7. Severus shook his head, his eyes regretful. "No, I'm afraid the credit for this plan belongs to your Mr. Weasley. He thought the entire thing up."
She felt her shoulders tighten in anger. "I could kill him."
Severus winced. "Am I that repulsive to you?"
"You know very well that you are far from repulsive so don't even try that tack. No, I just wish he'd accept that we're done and don't need his meddling."
Severus cleared his throat quietly, and, if she hadn't been so close to him, she would have missed the tiny flash of... was that guilt?
"Severus?" she asked warningly.
He closed his eyes and rested his head next to hers again, although he kept his body light.
"I asked him."
"What?"
He raised his head back up, looking at her intently. "I miss you, Hermione. You haven't given me a chance to apologize or make it up to you, so I asked your bloody friend for help."
8. Snape watched Hermione sleep with mixed feelings. On the one hand, her falling asleep in the office meant he had to transfer her to the bed. He would have much preferred she had done that on her own steam as he wanted to expend as little energy on her as possible. On the other hand, it was nice to know that she trusted him enough to fall asleep in his presence. Almost everyone distrusted him now, so having someone who wasn't a dunderhead or insane trust him was... gratifying.
It was also rather gratifying to know that he was able to do something good for her. She had lost at least a stone since he'd last seen her, the idiot girl. He wondered what they had subsisted on over the winter. It couldn't have been either hearty or tasty though, judging by her weight, skin tone and the way she'd devoured the soup.
He would still rather she and Weasley were with Potter, though.
His mind wandered to Weasley, and he wondered if she had told the boy her feelings yet. He felt his heart ache a little for her, knowing what she would be going through soon. There was little hope Weasley would survive the wound. The only hope he had was to die without pain.
Snape snorted softly, realizing that the boy and he had something in common there.
9. Torn between the desire to find my wand, my only hope, and help the girl, I find myself walking toward the bed, sitting on it, and gently sliding my hand under the blanket to feel her temperature again. I'm confused when I find her warm.
Why is she shivering?
I begin to remove my hand, but the small movement wakes her, and she looks up at me with fear in her eyes. Ah, so she's finally recognized me. Of course it figures she would when I don't have a means of escape. I'm cursing my luck and trying to figure out an alternate escape plan when she whispers, "Please... Hold me."
This time there was no mistaking the words. I look at her, frowning, before I realize she's probably suffered some brain trauma. That would account for her being out in these woods with barely a layer of clothing on. It would also account for how she ended up in the stream.
"Miss Granger," I start, but she interrupts me.
"Please..." It's barely a breath, but her terror is loud. It's persuasion enough. I take off my damp sweater and boots, and then I climb under the blankets beside her, scooping up her frail form to hold her. As soon as my arms surround her, she lets out a relieved sigh and relaxes into me.
10. Dec. 24, 1997
Weasley saved me today. I now owe the little bugger a life debt. Granted, the look on his face when he saw whom he saved was almost worth it. The worst bit is that Potter ended the battle before I could repay the favor, so now I'm stuck in peacetime with a life debt to Ronald fucking Weasley.
I suppose at the very least I should try to find him and tell him off for saving my life. I expect that will piss him off as much as anything I could do.
Yes. I think I'll go do that.
***
Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck! Damn, stupid, idiotic, bloody infuriating Gryffindors! I must look up more ways of saying what complete morons those blighters are.
I went to find Weasley tonight and caught him just as he was coming in through the main doors, carrying Granger to the hospital wing. Physically carrying Granger. Imbecile. The girl gets injured, and he forgets he's a wizard. He doesn't even have the excuse of being raised by wolves, like Granger and Potter do. He was so distraught he didn't even see me sneering at him. He just walked, ashen, up to the hospital. Granted, I gather he and Granger were going out, and Granger did look like she was rather buggered, but really! He cracked far too easily.