Newbie Author Quiz
All of our favorite authors had to start somewhere, right? At some point they decided to take the plunge and post that first chapter of that first story. This week's quiz celebrates the authors who posted their very first 1000+ word SS/HG fic sometime in 2007. In other words, it's the Newbie Author Quiz! ! ! !
Match the story to the quote:
Pheonix Feathers by Camillo1978
Rise of Life on Earth by HarrietVane
A Good Day A_Bees_Buzz
In Times of War by acciobook7 (WIP)
A Spider Book by Duniazade
A Fresh Start by dickGloucester (WIP)
Where Your Treasure Is by zeegrindylows (WIP)
Pushing the Envelope by Britt_1975
Walk Through Fire by wonderfulwrites (WIP)
A Pinch of This a Dash of That by iamastarmom
Thorns Amongst The Blooms by TalesofSnape
Forgive Us Our Debts by DrMM
Potential by Ubiquirk
Snape’s Boon by Amr
Itsy Bitsy Teenie Weenie Yellow Poka-Dot Bikini By MaddyRiddle
The Betrayal by SSHG316
To The Brinkby Irena Candy
I don’t Like Tuesdays by SilyburyGirl
The Apprentice and the Necromancer by Juno_Magic (WIP)
1. Whipping his head toward Potter, Severus stared at the saviour of the wizarding world in absolute shock. This did not make any sense. Why would Hermione make an Unbreakable Vow with Potter - and what did the Vow require of her? His mind was awhirl with possibilities and their various ramifications. In a daze, he turned back toward the witness stand.
“Miss Granger,” began the Chief Warlock, his tone incredulous, “are you telling this court that Harry Potter asked you to make an Unbreakable Vow regarding this case?”
Black eyes met brown, and the raw pain he saw was almost unbearable.
Hermione held Severus’ gaze for as long as she dared before turning her attention back to the Chief Warlock. “Not exactly, sir. The Vow pertained only to the mission, but it was quite … specific.”
There was whispering amongst the Interrogators, as well as the bystanders, and Hermione waited for the inevitable questions, struggling not to fidget in her seat. Impulsively, she found herself looking toward Severus, desperately attempting to tell him with her eyes what she could not speak aloud due to the current circumstances. She loved him, she had not willingly betrayed him, please believe her, please forgive her.
2. What the fuck are you doing here?"
Face to face with ancient history, Hermione Granger did what any reasonable person would in the circumstances, and threw up all over Severus Snape's slippers.
The ginger tea was hot and more importantly did the trick, settling both her stomach and her nerves. Balancing the mug on her knee, she sighed, her eyes taking in the homely room as they sat in awkward--and, in her case, embarrassed--silence. The half-empty plate on the coffee table suggested she'd interrupted his dinner with her knocking and subsequent vomiting. It was not how she'd intended the moment to go. In the decade she'd spent occasionally pondering such things, sick definitely had not featured at all in any reunion between herself and her wartime companion and lover. He had taken it with relatively good grace--at least for him--and shepherded her inside and onto the chesterfield while he'd changed his clothing and prepared her tea.
"Are felicitations in order?" His eyes dropped to the hand resting unconsciously on her stomach. She snatched it away, blushing violently, and shrugged.
3. He stirs uncomfortably, and I realize I’ve been staring. Collecting myself, I ask, “So, you’re alive. But why are you here - in this office?”
Sneer now firmly in place, his voice takes on the derisive tone familiar to me. “I had heard that the smartest witch of her age gave daily floor shows involving large items of furniture.”
I merely stare at him.
“Would you believe that I had tracked you here to see if the rumours of your overwhelming lack of success were true?”
My jaw begins to clench, but I try to keep my expression neutral as I continue to watch him.
After holding my gaze for several long, awkward moments, his eyes dart quickly to the left and then down before slowly rising to meet mine. “Some of us, Ms Granger, are willing to expend the effort to better ourselves.”
“What?” It comes out as a high-pitched squeak that even I cringe at.
He sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. “My teeth require attention, Ms Granger. This practice was recommended to me.”
4. Currently, Neville was digging over the school's extensive vegetable plots, badly churned up during the final battle. He was doing it manually, not magically, as he found that monotonous labour helped him think. To the rhythm of his spade and his heavy breathing, he was methodically working out the final details of how to prepare his study of the influence of the Golden Ariadne butterfly as pollinator of common lungwort, a key ingredient of many potions used to treat respiratory complaints.
What Neville Longbottom did not know - at least not yet - was that he had quite a lot in common with butterflies. Just as a pudgy, unpromising grey caterpillar emerged from its chrysalis transformed into a glorious jewelled creature, Neville had emerged from puberty and war as sex personified.
5. For Merlin’s sake!” Exasperated, Hermione reached into the front pocket of his shirt and removed his glasses, shoving them into his hand. “Put the damn things on, Severus.”
He glared at her for a moment, forgetting that it no longer had any effect on her, before thrusting the glasses onto his nose with poor grace. “It’s not my eyesight, Miss Granger. The print has simply blurred from too much handling.”
“Yes, of course, that must be it.”
Severus didn’t need to lower the paper to know she was currently rolling her eyes at him. It was her favorite way to demonstrate that he no longer intimidated her in the least.
He quickly scanned the small advertisement.
“Innovative Potions Expert needed to steer an emerging company interested in research and development of alternative potions. Must be willing to take a hand in guiding the company, think creatively and work with little or no supervision. Interested parties should owl their CV to Aliank Hybrid Ltd.”
He raised his head to see Hermione’s eyes glittering with excitement. For a moment, he wanted to let himself believe in the future he knew she was imagining.
6. It was a book - a large, but strangely flat, book. On the rigid and glazed cover, gaudy drawings flashed in violent colours.
“Comics, Miss Granger?”
“Graphic novel, sir.”
The cover depicted a young athlete on a broomstick, defending the goalposts of his team. His flaming hair seemed almost as garish as the orange Chudley Cannons robes that swirled around his muscular body.
Professor Snape smirked and was about to make a cutting comment when something caught his eye. He looked again, and his lips tightened.
“Follow me, Miss Granger”.
She followed in silence. Snape removed the wards from the door to his office and entered first. He seated himself at his desk without a word and opened the book. She waited patiently, standing before the desk, and, at last, he shut again the book, raised his head and said wearily, “Come here, Miss Granger”.
She went round the desk and stood by his chair. They both stared in silence.
He was the first to speak.
“Something must be done about this, Miss Granger.”
“Yes, sir.”
“You intended to do it by yourself, this night?”
“I only hoped to hide it, Professor, until I could find a better solution. I confess I thought of throwing it in the garbage chute in the kitchen - I know it leads directly into the Hogwarts magical incinerator - but I thought better of it.”
“It’s tempting, but I don’t think it’s prudent. After all, we are in this thing. Do you think he’ll miss it?”
7. This year, McGonagall had decided to celebrate the holiday with more than the usual flare. Hermione groaned as she walked into the Great Hall for dinner and saw the decorations. Pink and red heart-shaped bubbles floated in the air and a heart-shaped fountain sprayed alternating pink and red water. Cupids flew around the room, delivering valentines to various students.
Most of her fellow teachers showed the same lack of enthusiasm she did, Hermione noted.
“You know, this is one of the times when I wish he ate in the Great Hall,” whispered Professor Sinistra to Professor Vector. “I always thought one of the reasons why Albus decorated so extravagantly was to see his horrified expression when he walked into the Great Hall.”
“I miss his descriptions of the decorations,” said Vector. “’If only the students had as many brains as there are hearts.’ ‘They say red is the color of love. It looks like the color of insanity to me.’” Her voice lowered and she did a remarkable impression of Snape’s voice.
8. “Mmmfph!”
“If you do anything to attract attention, Granger, I swear I’ll fucking kill you.”
There was no possible way to mistake the prissy accent, even if his face was mostly hidden by shadow, but it seemed far younger than the last time she had heard it and was trembling perceptibly. Not to mention that the battle-hardened Draco Malfoy she knew would never leave her hands unpinned.
A well aimed kick in the shins and some deft manoeuvring later, she had him wrestled so that her hands were pinning his wrists against the wall of the other building.
“I don’t care who the fuck you are, I am this close to castrating you and leaving you to explain it to St Mungo’s.”
At this proximity, she could tell that it was Draco, but it was as though he had suddenly become twenty years younger.
Pseudo-Draco whimpered. He’d hardly had a chance for experimentation and that was about to be taken away from him. “It’s not what you think, Granger, I swear. I-we-need your help.”
“We?” she asked.
9. "Because, my friend, Hermione thinks that a bit of sun would make wonders to your appearance," Lucius stopped Severus from answering by raising a hand, "and I agree. You look positively green, Severus. And as much as I think house loyalty is a virtue, going around looking green just to prove you're a Slytherin is not healthy."
Severus snorted.
Lucius wasn't sure if he should mention his suspicions to him, but it might be the only way of convincing him to go... if he was interested, mind you. And if he wasn't, well, at least he will save some money and he would be more able to deal with a stubborn and affronted Hermione in private than in the middle of a hotel. Although, he wondered what she would say if he spoke too much. Perhaps she would hex him.
Still picking his clothes and folding them with a simple charm, Lucius added, "And I have this feeling that Hermione has plans for you..."
10. “Severus? Is that you?” Bodies shifted with alacrity as she trailed a hand along the wall, moving forward with sightless eyes directed upwards. Reaching him, she felt along his arm and touched his face. “Is that really you?”
“Yes, Minerva. It’s me.” He waited for the curse.
“Oh, thank goodness!” She threw herself on him, her hands clutching at his clothing as her grey, disheveled head rested against his chest. “I’ve been so worried, dear boy. So worried.” His shirtfront was becoming damp with what he could only imagine must be tears. It seemed the old biddy had lost more than her eyesight to be weeping in the arms of her husband’s murderer.
He looked up to see Granger beaming at him again while Tonks appeared to be tearing up. Some sort of gender-specific enchantment, then. He wondered if it was a potion or a spell.
Then the noise started. It took him a moment to identify the nature of the disturbance; he had not heard applause in quite some time.
“You’ll be wantin’ summat ter eat, I’ll wager,” Hagrid boomed. “Can’t be starvin’ a hero, now, can we!”
11. She canceled the Disillusionment Charm and Alberforth looked at Snape and then back at her.
"You're covered with blood, and he's a Death Eater," he said with distaste.
"The blood is his and he's an Ex-Death Eater," Hermione said, her eyes brimming with tears. "You-Know-Who set that loathsome snake of his on Professor Snape. He's lost a lot of blood."
"I'm surprised that he's not dead," Alberforth said frankly. "I've heard from quite a few people about You-Know-Who's poisonous snake. Bring him upstairs and we'll put him on my couch for the time being. I don't want him in any of the guest rooms, in case someone comes snooping around."
"Professor Snape is a Potions Master. He's a very good Potions Master," Hermione said, aware that she was babbling because she couldn't stand the silence from the helpless man drifting along by her side. "Maybe he was taking some kind of preventative potion. That's what I'd do, if I'd had to be around a maniac with a poisonous pet for very long."
"Very likely," Alberforth said, leading the way up the inn stairs.
12. She felt Bellatrix’s presence to her rear and saw a moonlit shadow on the ground, mirroring the woman’s wand being raised outwardly towards her still-shaking body. The same high-pitched voice met her ears in a cold, even tone, completely devoid of emotion.
“Avada Ked-”
The fourth syllable was as far as the witch was able to get. At that precise moment, Hermione felt an invisible arm wrap around her waist and pull her in tightly. Suddenly, she was being pulled into a cyclone. She felt a sharp, outward tug on her navel as if someone was trying to Summon her about the waist from across a room. Dizziness soon consumed the inner workings of her mind. She felt nauseous, insecure, and yet safe all at once. A falling sensation overtook her. She was reminded of her third year at Hogwarts, constantly drowsy from the Time-Turner she had used as her study aid, when she would drift into an unsteady and barely detectable sleep during classes. It was then that she had experienced the same unnatural feeling that she felt now. She felt as if she were falling deep into a chasm-only to realize that it was the desperate ploy of her mind trying to summon her back into reality.
Gradually the dizziness subsided. She imagined she heard someone calling to her-a distant, ghostly voice. The spinning had stopped completely, but the falling sensation had marginally increased. She had Apparated.
13. It was past midnight, and Severus sat in his spacious office, located in a corner of the vast Hogwarts’ kitchens, turning a goblet of well-aged brandy in his hands. He had enchanted one wall to be a one-way window, enabling him to keep an eye on the ever-present hubbub of activity. But at the moment, it was blissfully quiet, with only a few of the kitchen-elves busy with the final cleaning up before it started all over again in just a few hours. He sighed with contentment and smoothed out his black chef’s robes, the colour being one part of his former fictitious life that he chose to maintain. As Severus Snape reflected on his current situation, he found himself feeling satisfied-really, truly satisfied-for the first time, ever. It was an unfamiliar, if not unwelcome sensation, and he pondered on the reasons for this surprising turn in his life.
First, he was still alive. Despite the unfavourable odds and his long-held belief that he would not survive the final conflict, he confounded himself by being proved wrong. He still hadn’t worked out how to reconcile being happy about being wrong, since he had no frame of reference for such an occurrence. The best he could do was to set aside the conundrum and accept that his fate had turned out better than he could have hoped for.
Second, he was pleased that he had achieved both redemption and acclaim from the wizarding world. Both, he thought, were long overdue and well deserved. However, now that he finally had what he’d long desired, he was surprised and delighted to realise that he really didn’t give a flying fig about what people thought about him any longer.
14. A young woman with wild, brown hair cried out in delight over a squirrel stealing scraps from their picnic.
The couple walked precipitous cobbled streets, hand-in-hand, Hermione dragging him into a pine-panelled restaurant.
That same woman, dressed in white satin, bouquet in hand as she traversed the aisle of an empty church.
Voldemort's eyes narrowed. Strands of red light flew from the end of his wand like a magical cat-o-nine-tails, and came crashing down on Severus's back as he swayed on all fours. "Come now, Severus! Did you really think you could marry the Mudblood and hide it from me?"
Match the story to the quote:
Pheonix Feathers by Camillo1978
Rise of Life on Earth by HarrietVane
A Good Day A_Bees_Buzz
In Times of War by acciobook7 (WIP)
A Spider Book by Duniazade
A Fresh Start by dickGloucester (WIP)
Where Your Treasure Is by zeegrindylows (WIP)
Pushing the Envelope by Britt_1975
Walk Through Fire by wonderfulwrites (WIP)
A Pinch of This a Dash of That by iamastarmom
Thorns Amongst The Blooms by TalesofSnape
Forgive Us Our Debts by DrMM
Potential by Ubiquirk
Snape’s Boon by Amr
Itsy Bitsy Teenie Weenie Yellow Poka-Dot Bikini By MaddyRiddle
The Betrayal by SSHG316
To The Brinkby Irena Candy
I don’t Like Tuesdays by SilyburyGirl
The Apprentice and the Necromancer by Juno_Magic (WIP)
1. Whipping his head toward Potter, Severus stared at the saviour of the wizarding world in absolute shock. This did not make any sense. Why would Hermione make an Unbreakable Vow with Potter - and what did the Vow require of her? His mind was awhirl with possibilities and their various ramifications. In a daze, he turned back toward the witness stand.
“Miss Granger,” began the Chief Warlock, his tone incredulous, “are you telling this court that Harry Potter asked you to make an Unbreakable Vow regarding this case?”
Black eyes met brown, and the raw pain he saw was almost unbearable.
Hermione held Severus’ gaze for as long as she dared before turning her attention back to the Chief Warlock. “Not exactly, sir. The Vow pertained only to the mission, but it was quite … specific.”
There was whispering amongst the Interrogators, as well as the bystanders, and Hermione waited for the inevitable questions, struggling not to fidget in her seat. Impulsively, she found herself looking toward Severus, desperately attempting to tell him with her eyes what she could not speak aloud due to the current circumstances. She loved him, she had not willingly betrayed him, please believe her, please forgive her.
2. What the fuck are you doing here?"
Face to face with ancient history, Hermione Granger did what any reasonable person would in the circumstances, and threw up all over Severus Snape's slippers.
The ginger tea was hot and more importantly did the trick, settling both her stomach and her nerves. Balancing the mug on her knee, she sighed, her eyes taking in the homely room as they sat in awkward--and, in her case, embarrassed--silence. The half-empty plate on the coffee table suggested she'd interrupted his dinner with her knocking and subsequent vomiting. It was not how she'd intended the moment to go. In the decade she'd spent occasionally pondering such things, sick definitely had not featured at all in any reunion between herself and her wartime companion and lover. He had taken it with relatively good grace--at least for him--and shepherded her inside and onto the chesterfield while he'd changed his clothing and prepared her tea.
"Are felicitations in order?" His eyes dropped to the hand resting unconsciously on her stomach. She snatched it away, blushing violently, and shrugged.
3. He stirs uncomfortably, and I realize I’ve been staring. Collecting myself, I ask, “So, you’re alive. But why are you here - in this office?”
Sneer now firmly in place, his voice takes on the derisive tone familiar to me. “I had heard that the smartest witch of her age gave daily floor shows involving large items of furniture.”
I merely stare at him.
“Would you believe that I had tracked you here to see if the rumours of your overwhelming lack of success were true?”
My jaw begins to clench, but I try to keep my expression neutral as I continue to watch him.
After holding my gaze for several long, awkward moments, his eyes dart quickly to the left and then down before slowly rising to meet mine. “Some of us, Ms Granger, are willing to expend the effort to better ourselves.”
“What?” It comes out as a high-pitched squeak that even I cringe at.
He sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. “My teeth require attention, Ms Granger. This practice was recommended to me.”
4. Currently, Neville was digging over the school's extensive vegetable plots, badly churned up during the final battle. He was doing it manually, not magically, as he found that monotonous labour helped him think. To the rhythm of his spade and his heavy breathing, he was methodically working out the final details of how to prepare his study of the influence of the Golden Ariadne butterfly as pollinator of common lungwort, a key ingredient of many potions used to treat respiratory complaints.
What Neville Longbottom did not know - at least not yet - was that he had quite a lot in common with butterflies. Just as a pudgy, unpromising grey caterpillar emerged from its chrysalis transformed into a glorious jewelled creature, Neville had emerged from puberty and war as sex personified.
5. For Merlin’s sake!” Exasperated, Hermione reached into the front pocket of his shirt and removed his glasses, shoving them into his hand. “Put the damn things on, Severus.”
He glared at her for a moment, forgetting that it no longer had any effect on her, before thrusting the glasses onto his nose with poor grace. “It’s not my eyesight, Miss Granger. The print has simply blurred from too much handling.”
“Yes, of course, that must be it.”
Severus didn’t need to lower the paper to know she was currently rolling her eyes at him. It was her favorite way to demonstrate that he no longer intimidated her in the least.
He quickly scanned the small advertisement.
“Innovative Potions Expert needed to steer an emerging company interested in research and development of alternative potions. Must be willing to take a hand in guiding the company, think creatively and work with little or no supervision. Interested parties should owl their CV to Aliank Hybrid Ltd.”
He raised his head to see Hermione’s eyes glittering with excitement. For a moment, he wanted to let himself believe in the future he knew she was imagining.
6. It was a book - a large, but strangely flat, book. On the rigid and glazed cover, gaudy drawings flashed in violent colours.
“Comics, Miss Granger?”
“Graphic novel, sir.”
The cover depicted a young athlete on a broomstick, defending the goalposts of his team. His flaming hair seemed almost as garish as the orange Chudley Cannons robes that swirled around his muscular body.
Professor Snape smirked and was about to make a cutting comment when something caught his eye. He looked again, and his lips tightened.
“Follow me, Miss Granger”.
She followed in silence. Snape removed the wards from the door to his office and entered first. He seated himself at his desk without a word and opened the book. She waited patiently, standing before the desk, and, at last, he shut again the book, raised his head and said wearily, “Come here, Miss Granger”.
She went round the desk and stood by his chair. They both stared in silence.
He was the first to speak.
“Something must be done about this, Miss Granger.”
“Yes, sir.”
“You intended to do it by yourself, this night?”
“I only hoped to hide it, Professor, until I could find a better solution. I confess I thought of throwing it in the garbage chute in the kitchen - I know it leads directly into the Hogwarts magical incinerator - but I thought better of it.”
“It’s tempting, but I don’t think it’s prudent. After all, we are in this thing. Do you think he’ll miss it?”
7. This year, McGonagall had decided to celebrate the holiday with more than the usual flare. Hermione groaned as she walked into the Great Hall for dinner and saw the decorations. Pink and red heart-shaped bubbles floated in the air and a heart-shaped fountain sprayed alternating pink and red water. Cupids flew around the room, delivering valentines to various students.
Most of her fellow teachers showed the same lack of enthusiasm she did, Hermione noted.
“You know, this is one of the times when I wish he ate in the Great Hall,” whispered Professor Sinistra to Professor Vector. “I always thought one of the reasons why Albus decorated so extravagantly was to see his horrified expression when he walked into the Great Hall.”
“I miss his descriptions of the decorations,” said Vector. “’If only the students had as many brains as there are hearts.’ ‘They say red is the color of love. It looks like the color of insanity to me.’” Her voice lowered and she did a remarkable impression of Snape’s voice.
8. “Mmmfph!”
“If you do anything to attract attention, Granger, I swear I’ll fucking kill you.”
There was no possible way to mistake the prissy accent, even if his face was mostly hidden by shadow, but it seemed far younger than the last time she had heard it and was trembling perceptibly. Not to mention that the battle-hardened Draco Malfoy she knew would never leave her hands unpinned.
A well aimed kick in the shins and some deft manoeuvring later, she had him wrestled so that her hands were pinning his wrists against the wall of the other building.
“I don’t care who the fuck you are, I am this close to castrating you and leaving you to explain it to St Mungo’s.”
At this proximity, she could tell that it was Draco, but it was as though he had suddenly become twenty years younger.
Pseudo-Draco whimpered. He’d hardly had a chance for experimentation and that was about to be taken away from him. “It’s not what you think, Granger, I swear. I-we-need your help.”
“We?” she asked.
9. "Because, my friend, Hermione thinks that a bit of sun would make wonders to your appearance," Lucius stopped Severus from answering by raising a hand, "and I agree. You look positively green, Severus. And as much as I think house loyalty is a virtue, going around looking green just to prove you're a Slytherin is not healthy."
Severus snorted.
Lucius wasn't sure if he should mention his suspicions to him, but it might be the only way of convincing him to go... if he was interested, mind you. And if he wasn't, well, at least he will save some money and he would be more able to deal with a stubborn and affronted Hermione in private than in the middle of a hotel. Although, he wondered what she would say if he spoke too much. Perhaps she would hex him.
Still picking his clothes and folding them with a simple charm, Lucius added, "And I have this feeling that Hermione has plans for you..."
10. “Severus? Is that you?” Bodies shifted with alacrity as she trailed a hand along the wall, moving forward with sightless eyes directed upwards. Reaching him, she felt along his arm and touched his face. “Is that really you?”
“Yes, Minerva. It’s me.” He waited for the curse.
“Oh, thank goodness!” She threw herself on him, her hands clutching at his clothing as her grey, disheveled head rested against his chest. “I’ve been so worried, dear boy. So worried.” His shirtfront was becoming damp with what he could only imagine must be tears. It seemed the old biddy had lost more than her eyesight to be weeping in the arms of her husband’s murderer.
He looked up to see Granger beaming at him again while Tonks appeared to be tearing up. Some sort of gender-specific enchantment, then. He wondered if it was a potion or a spell.
Then the noise started. It took him a moment to identify the nature of the disturbance; he had not heard applause in quite some time.
“You’ll be wantin’ summat ter eat, I’ll wager,” Hagrid boomed. “Can’t be starvin’ a hero, now, can we!”
11. She canceled the Disillusionment Charm and Alberforth looked at Snape and then back at her.
"You're covered with blood, and he's a Death Eater," he said with distaste.
"The blood is his and he's an Ex-Death Eater," Hermione said, her eyes brimming with tears. "You-Know-Who set that loathsome snake of his on Professor Snape. He's lost a lot of blood."
"I'm surprised that he's not dead," Alberforth said frankly. "I've heard from quite a few people about You-Know-Who's poisonous snake. Bring him upstairs and we'll put him on my couch for the time being. I don't want him in any of the guest rooms, in case someone comes snooping around."
"Professor Snape is a Potions Master. He's a very good Potions Master," Hermione said, aware that she was babbling because she couldn't stand the silence from the helpless man drifting along by her side. "Maybe he was taking some kind of preventative potion. That's what I'd do, if I'd had to be around a maniac with a poisonous pet for very long."
"Very likely," Alberforth said, leading the way up the inn stairs.
12. She felt Bellatrix’s presence to her rear and saw a moonlit shadow on the ground, mirroring the woman’s wand being raised outwardly towards her still-shaking body. The same high-pitched voice met her ears in a cold, even tone, completely devoid of emotion.
“Avada Ked-”
The fourth syllable was as far as the witch was able to get. At that precise moment, Hermione felt an invisible arm wrap around her waist and pull her in tightly. Suddenly, she was being pulled into a cyclone. She felt a sharp, outward tug on her navel as if someone was trying to Summon her about the waist from across a room. Dizziness soon consumed the inner workings of her mind. She felt nauseous, insecure, and yet safe all at once. A falling sensation overtook her. She was reminded of her third year at Hogwarts, constantly drowsy from the Time-Turner she had used as her study aid, when she would drift into an unsteady and barely detectable sleep during classes. It was then that she had experienced the same unnatural feeling that she felt now. She felt as if she were falling deep into a chasm-only to realize that it was the desperate ploy of her mind trying to summon her back into reality.
Gradually the dizziness subsided. She imagined she heard someone calling to her-a distant, ghostly voice. The spinning had stopped completely, but the falling sensation had marginally increased. She had Apparated.
13. It was past midnight, and Severus sat in his spacious office, located in a corner of the vast Hogwarts’ kitchens, turning a goblet of well-aged brandy in his hands. He had enchanted one wall to be a one-way window, enabling him to keep an eye on the ever-present hubbub of activity. But at the moment, it was blissfully quiet, with only a few of the kitchen-elves busy with the final cleaning up before it started all over again in just a few hours. He sighed with contentment and smoothed out his black chef’s robes, the colour being one part of his former fictitious life that he chose to maintain. As Severus Snape reflected on his current situation, he found himself feeling satisfied-really, truly satisfied-for the first time, ever. It was an unfamiliar, if not unwelcome sensation, and he pondered on the reasons for this surprising turn in his life.
First, he was still alive. Despite the unfavourable odds and his long-held belief that he would not survive the final conflict, he confounded himself by being proved wrong. He still hadn’t worked out how to reconcile being happy about being wrong, since he had no frame of reference for such an occurrence. The best he could do was to set aside the conundrum and accept that his fate had turned out better than he could have hoped for.
Second, he was pleased that he had achieved both redemption and acclaim from the wizarding world. Both, he thought, were long overdue and well deserved. However, now that he finally had what he’d long desired, he was surprised and delighted to realise that he really didn’t give a flying fig about what people thought about him any longer.
14. A young woman with wild, brown hair cried out in delight over a squirrel stealing scraps from their picnic.
The couple walked precipitous cobbled streets, hand-in-hand, Hermione dragging him into a pine-panelled restaurant.
That same woman, dressed in white satin, bouquet in hand as she traversed the aisle of an empty church.
Voldemort's eyes narrowed. Strands of red light flew from the end of his wand like a magical cat-o-nine-tails, and came crashing down on Severus's back as he swayed on all fours. "Come now, Severus! Did you really think you could marry the Mudblood and hide it from me?"