Odd Jobs Quiz
The fangirls have spoken and they want Odd Jobs this week!
Thanks to our very imaginative SSHG authors, Hermione and Severus have held many interesting jobs in fanfic. They have made their living in both the Muggle and Wizarding worlds in some quite unexpected ways including ghostbusting and funeral director! Join us as they embark on twelve of their more creative career choices.
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 EDT. 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:
Once Upon A Time by hbart
Letting Go by irishredlass
When the Alarm Will Sound, Where Will You Be? by sc010f
Recapitulation by mundungus42
Bat Cake by zafania
S6x by neelix_2000
Things That Go Bump in the Night by madeleone
The Perils of Watching the Paint Dry Whilst Stranded Without A Wand With Rain. Rain and Rain and Rain. And More Rain by teaoli
In Solemn Stillness Lay by odogoddess
The Missing Ingredient by purple_dolphin9
When Only the Best Will Do by fizzabella1110
Do Nifflers Dream of Leprechaun Gold by duniazade
1. Mrs. Figg entered Hermione's office with a stack of files and a couple of memos. When Hermione had decided to open her own business, she'd known that she would need staff to help her. Yet she didn't think it would work out hiring a Muggle office girl.
She'd hit upon the idea of hiring Squibs. Arabella Figg had lived her entire life with a foot in both worlds, and she wouldn't be shocked by magic. After discussing the idea with Arabella, she'd learned that most Squibs could readily see and communicate with ghosts. Hermione had immediately offered a part time job to Mr. Filch. She'd heard through the grapevine that he'd recently retired from his job as caretaker at Hogwarts and was finding retirement a bit boring. Who better to work for her than a man who for the past thirty years had dealt with ghosts, poltergeists and recalcitrant students? He'd snapped up her offer and he and the current Mrs. Norris had rented a room from Mrs. Figg. Hermione couldn't help but wonder if there wasn't a little something more going on between the two, as they seemed quite friendly whenever they thought she wasn't looking.
At any rate, Arabella was taking care of the office and Argus was her assistant in the field. He would often accompany her to assess a case. Then she had him take care of the more simple, straightforward ones.
"Here's the files you wanted, dearie, on that case Argus closed last week in Dingwall. And there are messages, one from Harry and one about a referral for a new case. I think you'll want to handle this one yourself though, love. The clients are wizards."
2. "What does it look like I'm doing?" I asked her, straightening up and wiping my greasy hands on a rag. Around us, the garage clattered: music from the wireless, the shouts of workmen, the clanging of the equipment. It was a normal day in Luton. Well, normal for me. Possibly for Granger as well, if she was dealing in black market memories, but I really didn't care. I wasn't going to admit to her that I was the one who had contacted her.
"It looks like you're ah, being a... mechanic," she said.
"Well done, you," I replied, reaching down for the spanner and turning my attention to the spell generator attached to the timing belt.
"You're working on automobiles," Granger said.
"Again, nicely observed," I commented. The whizzgibbler was jammed; raspberry jam was dripping from the compartment. I grunted and reached for the jam-clearing device. "Obviously, you have something to say to me, or else you wouldn't have come all the way out to Luton. Or did Arthur Weasley's Anglia have another encounter with a tree?"
"No-no.. the Anglia is still feral. I think. No. It... I was looking for you. You are Midnight Desperado69, right?"
Now, that was the point - in hindsight, of course - that I should have scared her off. Permanently. Just let the whole matter drop, changed my name, deleted my accounts, and stayed as a bloody car mechanic in Luton.
But of course, I didn't.
3. "A sport?"
"You know, a magical babe in a nonmagical family?"
"Yes. We call ourselves Muggle-borns at home."
"In this land of political correctness, we find the word Muggle to be pejorative and heavy, just to give you a head's up."
Hermione smiled. "I'll bear it in mind."
"Don't feel bad if you slip. The owner still uses the word just to annoy people. It's part of his natural charm and perversity."
Hermione laughed. If Mitch wasn't really Severus Snape, she was going to eat her wand. "Being perverse and whinging are practically our national pastimes."
"Mitch could have been the captain of England's national whinging team," she said, placing a heaping scoop of fragrant coffee into the espresso machine. "Not unlike his tea blends, he's an acquired taste. Do you want your Cubano for here or to go?"
Hermione wondered for a moment if Miranda was Vic's mother before dismissing the idea as unlikely. "I'll have it here."
4. Offset to the article's right was a grainy image of several people at a ribbon-cutting ceremony. The caption read: Evan Prince cuts the ribbon at a new Sit & Spin in Chadderton in April.
The man holding the improbably large pair of secateurs was none other than Severus Snape, no matter what he called himself. Prince, Hermione recalled, had been his mother's maiden name. She also recalled how Harry and she had returned to the Shrieking Shack to retrieve his body and found nothing but a burnt area and a few ashes. The Aurors, as well as the remaining Order members, they had spoken to in the aftermath of the final battle had assured them the Death Eaters had most likely used an Incineration Charm on the orders of Voldemort himself. Hadn't they reported that Voldemort had wanted Snape dead? Even Harry had conceded it was probable that Voldemort had sent a Death Eater back to the Shrieking Shack to ensure Snape was dead, because he might have thought Nagini's bite wouldn't finish him fast enough.
That was in May of 1998, though. This newspaper indicated that in April of 2005, one Evan Prince had cut the ribbon on one of his new laundrettes.
Severus Snape had died at the age of 38, seven years ago. Evan Prince was alive and well opening a new coin laundrette in Weston-super-Mare at the age of 45.
Severus Snape had been bitten by a deadly snake. Evan Prince was purportedly crippled.
Severus Snape had a deep, velvety voice and had been bitten on the neck. Evan Prince was said to have a deep, raspy voice.
Hermione let the newspaper fall from her nerveless hands onto the bathroom floor. The bubbles were gone, the water was cold and Severus Snape was alive and going to attend a ribbon-cutting ceremony on the morrow.
5. "Ron is going to make some girl very happy." Hermione said. "He'll be a wonderful husband, but it isn't enough for me." She opened her closet door. "I want the fairytale."
"I'll say," Ginny replied, staring at the princess dress and matching hat hanging in the closet. "Do you wear that on your dates? Because that may very well be what scares the men away." Ginny ducked to avoid the pillow that was launched at her head. "Seriously, Hermione, what is that all about?"
Hermione donned her bathrobe and sat on the bed. "You have to promise that you won't interfere, and you won't tell your husband."
"I promise."
"You know that special project I was working on?"
Ginny nodded.
"It was supposed to be perfect. I ..." She took a deep breath and closed her eyes for a moment. "I poured not only my heart and nine months of my life into that thing, but my entire savings account, as well."
"Hermione, if you need money-"
"Ginny," Hermione warned.
"Sorry." She fastened an imaginary zipper over her lips.
"I'm working at The Enchanted Forest. It isn't a career move or anything, but it is decent money and there was a sign-on bonus. So, five days a week I am Princess Azalea."
6. "All right," he says, once she is seated. "What would have happened if I had told McLaggen no?"
Hermione looks at her hands.
"Exactly," the Ambassador resumes. "This way, he left at once with an injunction to keep quiet. Now, the fact is that we are supposed to promote British commercial interests, and Tiberius isn't to be crossed. He's in fact even more influential now, if we're to believe Cormac. I had no idea he'd bought the Firebolt shares. He probably bought them cheap as hell, too, from poor old Bainbridge, who was a Charms genius but never had a political head. Ravenclaw, what can I say?"
"But why me? I'm the most junior, I'm not competent, and the Minister-Counsellor will ask for my head if I infringe on her attributions."
"Because, if we send the most junior of the staff, they'll think we don't want this thing very badly. Therefore, the favour they'll ask in return will be smaller. At the same time, you're a war heroine so they won't feel insulted."
"And if they refuse?"
Slughorn crosses his hands over his vast belly and leans back against the cushions. "Then, my dear girl, we won't have to assuage the Minister-Counsellor."
7. Hermione stared blankly at him. Severus was always full of surprises, but this was beyond surprising. If it had been anyone else, she would have thought they were pulling her leg. "You want to move to Whitby and become a full-time house husband?"
"No, I want to move to Whitby and run my own teashop."
It took a lot to reduce Hermione Grainger-Snape to a state of speechlessness. Dragons, Death Eaters, even Basilisks hadn't quite managed it, but Severus Snape announcing that he wanted to run a Muggle teashop, yup, that just about did it.
He persevered. "I read that Muggle newspaper of yours the other week. There was a whole section about people who'd changed career mid-life and started their own small business in the fine food sector. If Muggles can do it, why can't I?"
"Um..."
"You're always telling me what a good cook I am."
"I think there's a bit more to it than that though. There's bookkeeping, and customer relations, and..."
"Pish!" He waved his hand dismissively.
Hermione couldn't quite process any of this; it was all a bit too much at breakfast time. She decided that maybe if she just went to work and buried herself in some nice boring paperwork then perhaps it would all go away. Yes, that was it, paperwork, nice, sensible, rational paperwork; the throbbing vein in her temple would like that. She picked up her handbag and briefcase and headed for the Floo.
8. Hermione walked into the kitchen of 12 Grimmauld Place. Molly was already working at the stove for the event they were catering tonight and she turned to look at Hermione before saying, "How are you dear?"
Hermione poured herself a cup of coffee before sitting at the table, saying, "I'm great. I'm all moved in. I just still have some unpacking to do, which reminds me..." Hermione took out the cookbook as she said, "My Godfather left me a chest, he called it a hope chest. Anyway, there was a cookbook in it. The letter that came with it explained that it was filled with family recipes that they put into a book for everyone and Uncle Cam wanted me to have a copy. I know some of the recipes, or at least the ingredients, but others l have no clue about."
Molly turned down the fire under the pot she had been stirring before coming over to sit beside Hermione. "Wasn't your Godfather American?"
"Yes, I think that's why some of these just seem so foreign to me."
Molly nodded as she thumbed through the cookbook, then she started back at the beginning. Coming to a page she stopped. "This recipe for what is called biscuits sounds a lot like a dumpling recipe that Arthur's Great Aunt used to make. You know dear, we have that breakfast we are catering for in a couple of weeks. I have an idea for this recipe. Let's try it on the family. I'll make it the way this book states, and dumplings also. If it goes well with them we could try a small batch for that event." Molly turned the book, showing Hermione the recipe she was talking about.
Hermione read over the recipe for sausage gravy and biscuits, then looked up at Molly. "If you want to, I'd also like to learn more of the cooking end of the business."
9. The club had filled up quickly and the tables around the dance floor were all full. Severus noted that the clientele were all men and he wondered if it was a rule of the house. Suddenly, the pounding dance music stopped and the lights dimmed, and a cheer went up from the waiting crowd followed by a hushed silence. A sultry and seductive female voice came over the tannoy.
'Here kitty, kitty.'
Music started again, this time with a slow and seductive, deep base that reverberated around the room and a spotlight lit the pole in the centre of the dance floor. Severus watched with detached curiosity and noted the eager faces of the men around him. He was hoping that the next act would live up to their expectations when he saw a dark shape moving in the shadows. A gasp travelled around the room as a sleek, black jaguar walked on large, silent paws into the centre of the dance floor and stopped beside the silver pole. The jaguar sat and surveyed the silent crowd with her large, amber eyes, and Severus watched in disbelief when he caught the big cats' gaze. He could have sworn that the jaguar winked at him.
The jaguar started to stretch and undulate to the music, and Severus watched closely as she transformed into a curvy woman with glossy, dark hair that rippled in waves down her back. She was clad in a figure-hugging black velvet catsuit, and on her feet were the highest pair of stiletto shoes Severus had ever seen. The woman danced around the pole as if she were making love to it, wrapping her long legs around it and grinding her body up and down. The crowd were transfixed by the performance, and started a slow hand clap as bit by bit, the costume started to disappear. First the sleeves dissolved, revealing slim, tanned skin up to well-defined shoulders.
10. As the last strains of music died, Severus looked at the back of the funeral programme. He wanted to know who had so tastefully sent Minerva off to her rest-perhaps they would do justice to the memories of his wife and child. His eyes flickered to the bottom of the parchment which read:
H.G. Funeral Directors ~ We Care.
16 Belkamp Row
London, England
Post or Owl
Severus was surprised-the establishment could not be entirely wizarding, as it accepted Muggle post. This would make things easier; Helena had been a Muggle, and he did not want his private business bandied about the wizarding world. This way, he could do the right thing without bringing undo attention to himself-no one in the magical world knew he had married and fathered a child, and if news of their funeral were to get out there would be many questions... questions he did not have the heart to answer. Yes, a Muggle service would be best.
Still hungry for more interesting career choices for our favorite couple? Try these past quizzes!
Severus Snape, Jack-of-all-trades Quiz
Severus Snape, Jack-of-all-trades Quiz - Part 2
Hermione Granger, Know-it-all Quiz
Thanks to our very imaginative SSHG authors, Hermione and Severus have held many interesting jobs in fanfic. They have made their living in both the Muggle and Wizarding worlds in some quite unexpected ways including ghostbusting and funeral director! Join us as they embark on twelve of their more creative career choices.
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 EDT. 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:
Once Upon A Time by hbart
Letting Go by irishredlass
When the Alarm Will Sound, Where Will You Be? by sc010f
Recapitulation by mundungus42
Bat Cake by zafania
S6x by neelix_2000
Things That Go Bump in the Night by madeleone
The Perils of Watching the Paint Dry Whilst Stranded Without A Wand With Rain. Rain and Rain and Rain. And More Rain by teaoli
In Solemn Stillness Lay by odogoddess
The Missing Ingredient by purple_dolphin9
When Only the Best Will Do by fizzabella1110
Do Nifflers Dream of Leprechaun Gold by duniazade
1. Mrs. Figg entered Hermione's office with a stack of files and a couple of memos. When Hermione had decided to open her own business, she'd known that she would need staff to help her. Yet she didn't think it would work out hiring a Muggle office girl.
She'd hit upon the idea of hiring Squibs. Arabella Figg had lived her entire life with a foot in both worlds, and she wouldn't be shocked by magic. After discussing the idea with Arabella, she'd learned that most Squibs could readily see and communicate with ghosts. Hermione had immediately offered a part time job to Mr. Filch. She'd heard through the grapevine that he'd recently retired from his job as caretaker at Hogwarts and was finding retirement a bit boring. Who better to work for her than a man who for the past thirty years had dealt with ghosts, poltergeists and recalcitrant students? He'd snapped up her offer and he and the current Mrs. Norris had rented a room from Mrs. Figg. Hermione couldn't help but wonder if there wasn't a little something more going on between the two, as they seemed quite friendly whenever they thought she wasn't looking.
At any rate, Arabella was taking care of the office and Argus was her assistant in the field. He would often accompany her to assess a case. Then she had him take care of the more simple, straightforward ones.
"Here's the files you wanted, dearie, on that case Argus closed last week in Dingwall. And there are messages, one from Harry and one about a referral for a new case. I think you'll want to handle this one yourself though, love. The clients are wizards."
2. "What does it look like I'm doing?" I asked her, straightening up and wiping my greasy hands on a rag. Around us, the garage clattered: music from the wireless, the shouts of workmen, the clanging of the equipment. It was a normal day in Luton. Well, normal for me. Possibly for Granger as well, if she was dealing in black market memories, but I really didn't care. I wasn't going to admit to her that I was the one who had contacted her.
"It looks like you're ah, being a... mechanic," she said.
"Well done, you," I replied, reaching down for the spanner and turning my attention to the spell generator attached to the timing belt.
"You're working on automobiles," Granger said.
"Again, nicely observed," I commented. The whizzgibbler was jammed; raspberry jam was dripping from the compartment. I grunted and reached for the jam-clearing device. "Obviously, you have something to say to me, or else you wouldn't have come all the way out to Luton. Or did Arthur Weasley's Anglia have another encounter with a tree?"
"No-no.. the Anglia is still feral. I think. No. It... I was looking for you. You are Midnight Desperado69, right?"
Now, that was the point - in hindsight, of course - that I should have scared her off. Permanently. Just let the whole matter drop, changed my name, deleted my accounts, and stayed as a bloody car mechanic in Luton.
But of course, I didn't.
3. "A sport?"
"You know, a magical babe in a nonmagical family?"
"Yes. We call ourselves Muggle-borns at home."
"In this land of political correctness, we find the word Muggle to be pejorative and heavy, just to give you a head's up."
Hermione smiled. "I'll bear it in mind."
"Don't feel bad if you slip. The owner still uses the word just to annoy people. It's part of his natural charm and perversity."
Hermione laughed. If Mitch wasn't really Severus Snape, she was going to eat her wand. "Being perverse and whinging are practically our national pastimes."
"Mitch could have been the captain of England's national whinging team," she said, placing a heaping scoop of fragrant coffee into the espresso machine. "Not unlike his tea blends, he's an acquired taste. Do you want your Cubano for here or to go?"
Hermione wondered for a moment if Miranda was Vic's mother before dismissing the idea as unlikely. "I'll have it here."
4. Offset to the article's right was a grainy image of several people at a ribbon-cutting ceremony. The caption read: Evan Prince cuts the ribbon at a new Sit & Spin in Chadderton in April.
The man holding the improbably large pair of secateurs was none other than Severus Snape, no matter what he called himself. Prince, Hermione recalled, had been his mother's maiden name. She also recalled how Harry and she had returned to the Shrieking Shack to retrieve his body and found nothing but a burnt area and a few ashes. The Aurors, as well as the remaining Order members, they had spoken to in the aftermath of the final battle had assured them the Death Eaters had most likely used an Incineration Charm on the orders of Voldemort himself. Hadn't they reported that Voldemort had wanted Snape dead? Even Harry had conceded it was probable that Voldemort had sent a Death Eater back to the Shrieking Shack to ensure Snape was dead, because he might have thought Nagini's bite wouldn't finish him fast enough.
That was in May of 1998, though. This newspaper indicated that in April of 2005, one Evan Prince had cut the ribbon on one of his new laundrettes.
Severus Snape had died at the age of 38, seven years ago. Evan Prince was alive and well opening a new coin laundrette in Weston-super-Mare at the age of 45.
Severus Snape had been bitten by a deadly snake. Evan Prince was purportedly crippled.
Severus Snape had a deep, velvety voice and had been bitten on the neck. Evan Prince was said to have a deep, raspy voice.
Hermione let the newspaper fall from her nerveless hands onto the bathroom floor. The bubbles were gone, the water was cold and Severus Snape was alive and going to attend a ribbon-cutting ceremony on the morrow.
5. "Ron is going to make some girl very happy." Hermione said. "He'll be a wonderful husband, but it isn't enough for me." She opened her closet door. "I want the fairytale."
"I'll say," Ginny replied, staring at the princess dress and matching hat hanging in the closet. "Do you wear that on your dates? Because that may very well be what scares the men away." Ginny ducked to avoid the pillow that was launched at her head. "Seriously, Hermione, what is that all about?"
Hermione donned her bathrobe and sat on the bed. "You have to promise that you won't interfere, and you won't tell your husband."
"I promise."
"You know that special project I was working on?"
Ginny nodded.
"It was supposed to be perfect. I ..." She took a deep breath and closed her eyes for a moment. "I poured not only my heart and nine months of my life into that thing, but my entire savings account, as well."
"Hermione, if you need money-"
"Ginny," Hermione warned.
"Sorry." She fastened an imaginary zipper over her lips.
"I'm working at The Enchanted Forest. It isn't a career move or anything, but it is decent money and there was a sign-on bonus. So, five days a week I am Princess Azalea."
6. "All right," he says, once she is seated. "What would have happened if I had told McLaggen no?"
Hermione looks at her hands.
"Exactly," the Ambassador resumes. "This way, he left at once with an injunction to keep quiet. Now, the fact is that we are supposed to promote British commercial interests, and Tiberius isn't to be crossed. He's in fact even more influential now, if we're to believe Cormac. I had no idea he'd bought the Firebolt shares. He probably bought them cheap as hell, too, from poor old Bainbridge, who was a Charms genius but never had a political head. Ravenclaw, what can I say?"
"But why me? I'm the most junior, I'm not competent, and the Minister-Counsellor will ask for my head if I infringe on her attributions."
"Because, if we send the most junior of the staff, they'll think we don't want this thing very badly. Therefore, the favour they'll ask in return will be smaller. At the same time, you're a war heroine so they won't feel insulted."
"And if they refuse?"
Slughorn crosses his hands over his vast belly and leans back against the cushions. "Then, my dear girl, we won't have to assuage the Minister-Counsellor."
7. Hermione stared blankly at him. Severus was always full of surprises, but this was beyond surprising. If it had been anyone else, she would have thought they were pulling her leg. "You want to move to Whitby and become a full-time house husband?"
"No, I want to move to Whitby and run my own teashop."
It took a lot to reduce Hermione Grainger-Snape to a state of speechlessness. Dragons, Death Eaters, even Basilisks hadn't quite managed it, but Severus Snape announcing that he wanted to run a Muggle teashop, yup, that just about did it.
He persevered. "I read that Muggle newspaper of yours the other week. There was a whole section about people who'd changed career mid-life and started their own small business in the fine food sector. If Muggles can do it, why can't I?"
"Um..."
"You're always telling me what a good cook I am."
"I think there's a bit more to it than that though. There's bookkeeping, and customer relations, and..."
"Pish!" He waved his hand dismissively.
Hermione couldn't quite process any of this; it was all a bit too much at breakfast time. She decided that maybe if she just went to work and buried herself in some nice boring paperwork then perhaps it would all go away. Yes, that was it, paperwork, nice, sensible, rational paperwork; the throbbing vein in her temple would like that. She picked up her handbag and briefcase and headed for the Floo.
8. Hermione walked into the kitchen of 12 Grimmauld Place. Molly was already working at the stove for the event they were catering tonight and she turned to look at Hermione before saying, "How are you dear?"
Hermione poured herself a cup of coffee before sitting at the table, saying, "I'm great. I'm all moved in. I just still have some unpacking to do, which reminds me..." Hermione took out the cookbook as she said, "My Godfather left me a chest, he called it a hope chest. Anyway, there was a cookbook in it. The letter that came with it explained that it was filled with family recipes that they put into a book for everyone and Uncle Cam wanted me to have a copy. I know some of the recipes, or at least the ingredients, but others l have no clue about."
Molly turned down the fire under the pot she had been stirring before coming over to sit beside Hermione. "Wasn't your Godfather American?"
"Yes, I think that's why some of these just seem so foreign to me."
Molly nodded as she thumbed through the cookbook, then she started back at the beginning. Coming to a page she stopped. "This recipe for what is called biscuits sounds a lot like a dumpling recipe that Arthur's Great Aunt used to make. You know dear, we have that breakfast we are catering for in a couple of weeks. I have an idea for this recipe. Let's try it on the family. I'll make it the way this book states, and dumplings also. If it goes well with them we could try a small batch for that event." Molly turned the book, showing Hermione the recipe she was talking about.
Hermione read over the recipe for sausage gravy and biscuits, then looked up at Molly. "If you want to, I'd also like to learn more of the cooking end of the business."
9. The club had filled up quickly and the tables around the dance floor were all full. Severus noted that the clientele were all men and he wondered if it was a rule of the house. Suddenly, the pounding dance music stopped and the lights dimmed, and a cheer went up from the waiting crowd followed by a hushed silence. A sultry and seductive female voice came over the tannoy.
'Here kitty, kitty.'
Music started again, this time with a slow and seductive, deep base that reverberated around the room and a spotlight lit the pole in the centre of the dance floor. Severus watched with detached curiosity and noted the eager faces of the men around him. He was hoping that the next act would live up to their expectations when he saw a dark shape moving in the shadows. A gasp travelled around the room as a sleek, black jaguar walked on large, silent paws into the centre of the dance floor and stopped beside the silver pole. The jaguar sat and surveyed the silent crowd with her large, amber eyes, and Severus watched in disbelief when he caught the big cats' gaze. He could have sworn that the jaguar winked at him.
The jaguar started to stretch and undulate to the music, and Severus watched closely as she transformed into a curvy woman with glossy, dark hair that rippled in waves down her back. She was clad in a figure-hugging black velvet catsuit, and on her feet were the highest pair of stiletto shoes Severus had ever seen. The woman danced around the pole as if she were making love to it, wrapping her long legs around it and grinding her body up and down. The crowd were transfixed by the performance, and started a slow hand clap as bit by bit, the costume started to disappear. First the sleeves dissolved, revealing slim, tanned skin up to well-defined shoulders.
10. As the last strains of music died, Severus looked at the back of the funeral programme. He wanted to know who had so tastefully sent Minerva off to her rest-perhaps they would do justice to the memories of his wife and child. His eyes flickered to the bottom of the parchment which read:
H.G. Funeral Directors ~ We Care.
16 Belkamp Row
London, England
Post or Owl
Severus was surprised-the establishment could not be entirely wizarding, as it accepted Muggle post. This would make things easier; Helena had been a Muggle, and he did not want his private business bandied about the wizarding world. This way, he could do the right thing without bringing undo attention to himself-no one in the magical world knew he had married and fathered a child, and if news of their funeral were to get out there would be many questions... questions he did not have the heart to answer. Yes, a Muggle service would be best.
Still hungry for more interesting career choices for our favorite couple? Try these past quizzes!
Severus Snape, Jack-of-all-trades Quiz
Severus Snape, Jack-of-all-trades Quiz - Part 2
Hermione Granger, Know-it-all Quiz