Moste Potenete Passions Quiz
Did you know there are only 12 days left to vote in round two of the Moste Potente Passions awards at sshg_awards? Voting closes on April 30, 2008. This week's quiz focuses on the stories that have been nominated. Lookie, there are 17 quotes, one for each of the categories. Please do not be intimidated by the size of the quiz. I have made two improvements to the normal quiz routine to help a fan girl out.
Firstly, the quotes are arranged in a logical order. Once you crack the code and figure out the pattern the quiz will be that much easier. If you guess the code correctly, I'll unscreen your post to assist the others.
Secondly, each of the categories has only one story used in the quiz. So if you recognize the quote from Draught of Peace: Best Fluff, you can cross off the other fluff nominees they will not be used.
Have fun, and don't forget to vote!
Snape’s Boon by Amr
Walk Through Fire by wonderfulwrites (WIP)
The Dunderhead Tax by scatteredlogic
Pomogranate Seeds by arsenicjade
Back in Black by ubiquirk
To Make Much of Time by mundungus42
Traitor by averygoodun
In Annulo by ladyofthemasque
Virgin on the Ridiculous by melusin_79
Into The North by Kailin
Revelations of a Bed & Breakfast by soul_bound_8686
Buses by shiv5468
Pushing the Envelope by britt_1975
I Know What You’ve Done by snarkyroxy
Phoenix Feathers by camillo1978
Send Not To Know by subvers
The Price of Madness by plaidpooka (WIP)
Canvas & Paint by shiv5468 & warded_portal
The Kindness of Strangers by fandomme (WIP)
Volition by Polywolly (WIP)
Two Weeks Notice by vanityfair00
Becoming by snarkypants (WIP)
Spoils of War by bambu345
Love Him in my Absence by anogete
As The Pages Turn by stormyskize
Brittle by ttfs
Accountable by elidyce aka Dyce
Enraptured by sshg316
Resurgam by ayerf
1. “They're coming. We've got to go.”
Her words drifted, a cold sound in the air.
The sound of wool catching on wood. “We?”
Her voice was strained, a near silent prayer, “Yes. Now.”
His warm breath felt like home against her throat. The touch of his hand a reserved confirmation.
“I thought you had forgotten.”
“Never.”
2. Severus had never liked being naked, but here he was being stripped bare by a woman, and she wasn’t laughing at him.
‘Lovely,’ Hermione pronounced. She lay on the bed and held her open arms up to him. ‘Come here.’
The feel of skin on skin was like nothing he’d known. Hermione murmured words of encouragement as Severus tentatively explored her body, smiling at his expression when she lovingly stroked his cock. She gently pushed him on his back and straddled him. Severus held his breath.
Hermione smiled impishly. ‘This won’t hurt a bit.’
And she was right. It didn’t.
3. Snape opened the door and looked around, and after the tiniest of deliberations, Harry quickly darted in and ducked behind the nearest armchair. For a second, he thought he’d been caught, but luckily, Snape seemed distracted. Harry dared to peek his head from around the chair and nearly fainted from what he saw.
Hermione Granger, his best friend in the world, sat on the edge of the bed and stared up at Snape.
Harry went for his wand and had opened his mouth to hex the daylights out of Snape for threatening Hermione when her words stilled and shocked him.
“Hello, Severus,” she said quietly.
Severus?
Harry’s jaw dropped. He didn’t even have time to be confused before Hermione stood and walked over to a place right in front of Snape.
Be careful, Hermione! He’s dangerous! But Hermione didn’t seem the least bit frightened.
The two stared at each other for a long moment, and Harry didn’t have any clue what was going on or what to do. The expression on Snape’s face was inscrutable, but there was something in his eyes that Harry had never seen there before.
“Is it really over?” she finally asked with hope in her eyes.
Harry could only watch in confusion.
“Yes, Hermione,” Snape said softly. “It’s really over. We’re free.”
It was like watching a train wreck. Harry felt overwhelming horror, but couldn’t bring himself to look away as his best friend threw herself into the arms of the man he hated most.
4. She was in time to gratefully receive a cup of much needed coffee from Neville before he walked out of the kitchen to go and collect an international Portkey to Athens (apparently, the Floo was generally out of favour). The company’s stores of hellebore and asphodel were running low, and Neville was also hoping to get a couple of days in Crete to collect a load of Class-A dittany.
Amazingly, Draco was up, and even more amazingly, he seemed genuinely upset that Neville was leaving. Hermione watched wide-eyed with surprise (and envy) as a bare-footed Draco dashed out into the rain to give Neville an extra goodbye kiss. She refrained from taking the piss out of the subdued and shivering man who returned. He obviously loved his green-fingered boyfriend, and he was really good at conjuring booze.
Snape explained the cataloguing system he had for the store cupboard (apparently Harry occasionally struggled with the concept of the alphabet) and said he’d hang around for the morning to make sure Hermione didn’t foul up.
5. He guided her easily through to a table and held her chair for her. "Would you like something to drink?" She could see the carefully guarded expression on his face. He was playing his cards very close to his chest, and if she hadn't spent months across from him in staff meetings, she might have thought him angry with her. But no, he was simply -- on edge.
"Thank you," she said. "I don't think I could face the Minister's speech without artificial aid -- could you?"
There. Just at the corner of his mouth: a twitch. "I thought that's why you're here."
She smiled warmly, a slow smile that looked dreadfully knowing. "No, it was just an excuse to ask you out for dinner."
His eyes drew down to a slit, but the ghost of a grin remained. "What are you drinking this evening?"
"Firewhiskey?" she said.
He raised a single eyebrow at that. "If you'll excuse me, I'll be right back." And with a trademark flick of his robe, he was gone.
It took Ginny Weasley all of two seconds to take his place. "Did I just see you arrive with who I just thought I saw you arrive with!?" The sentence came out all as one word.
6. “I’ve decided to change careers to something less stressful than the Ministry so I have time to work on my next project,” she said. It sounded almost as good as she practiced it.
“Which is?” Ron asked.
“I’m writing a history of the war,” she told them.
And she was. Every day after the first week spent cleaning the shop, Hermione took out parchment and quill and scratched out every memory she had of the war, starting with her Fourth year. When she wasn’t writing, she read - books on Potions and Defense and Charms, anything and everything. She didn’t wonder how she had fallen so far. She wondered why she hadn’t thought of this as a career earlier.
“That doesn’t look like work,” Snape grumbled at her later when he caught her with her parchments.
Hermione looked up at him and put down her quill. “What would you like for me to do?” she asked in a patient tone designed to irritate him further. It worked.
“Couldn’t you clean…” he looked around to see everything gleaming. Hermione had done nothing but dust for days, sneezing every few minutes. He had complained about incessant noise then. “Something?”
“Why did you hire me if there wasn’t any work to do?”
Snape narrowed his eyes. “I wanted to observe personally the Midlife Crisis of a Harlot,” he said, quoting Skeeter’s venomous headline.
Hermione clenched her fists as well as her jaw. “It was Midlife Crisis OR a Harlot. Not OF, you miserable git.”
7. He slowly raised his head to look at her again before carefully placing his quill in the inkwell. "It's a restorative potion, a healing potion, if you will."
"What does it do?" she asked.
"Nothing as of yet. My intention was to administer it to long-term coma patients who have fallen into a vegetative state. It is meant to reactivate their brains."
Hermione was surprised. She had expected some dubious potion of questionable ethical value that he could sell to wizards with too much money and too much time on their hands. The last thing she expected was a healing potion to return coma victims to a functioning state. "Much luck, sir?"
Snape smirked wryly and shook his head before returning to his work. "Not at all, Miss Granger."
"You know, I read this article not but a few months back in Potions Master that speculated as to the use of a herb called gotu kola in restoring the functions of a damaged brain."
"And who wrote that article?" Snape asked in a low voice.
Hermione frowned as she tried to recall the name. She tossed in the next ingredient and stirred the potion twice before sitting the rod aside for the moment. "I believe his name was William Malrubius."
8. When he had finally believed his welfare was important to her he began to talk. At first, their conversations were abrupt and clipped. However, after one sneering comment that she couldn’t possibly understand the misery of his life, Hermione had Leviosa’d his scrawny arse through the still-wrecked portions of her home - caring for him had been a full-time activity for months - telling him, in vivid detail, about the deaths of her family, her friends, her enemies.
Severus had been silent for a week following that confrontation, but it had been a turning point for them both.
Now his silence was welcomed as long as he kept doing that with his mouth ... and oh, Nimue! Hermione moaned in response to his flicking the tip of her other nipple with his fingers.
9. "You suppose nothing. As yours is the type to send blood running in the streets, giving the publisher something to calm themselves with is only practical."
"I would nearly believe you were calling me practical."
"You always were prone to flights of fancy."
"A characteristic which has served you well, I believe."
He admitted to nothing, but his lips curved up, and his eyes were amused. It was enough. He had come to her rooms earlier each evening. He stayed no later, nearly fleeing when they were done, and she still had not stepped foot in his wing, but his willingness to show up before the absolute dead of night was a sign of something, so far as she was concerned. She hadn't really any idea of what, but something. Something that had to do with the kiss by the lake and the fact that he was unbothered by Gregory having seen them.
She thought Harry knew, and she knew Tonks and Kingsley knew. For that matter, if Harry did know, then Ron would be aware as well. And Viktor, for that matter. None of them had said a word, but Hermione made her living (and staked her reputation) on reading between lines, between words, between syllables.
10. "That doesn't look like fine to me," Ron said, giving her a worried look. "That looks like you breaking your word."
Hermione stared at him. "Like me breaking my... what?"
"You said you wouldn't have the baby in class, Hermione. You promised you wouldn't."
Bugger. She had, too. "Er... well, I'm not having it right now or anything..."
"I knew it!" Ron raised his voice. "Re- Professor Lupin! Hermione's starting to have the baby now!"
"Hermione?" Remus took her arm gently. A bit too gently... if Ron hadn't helpfully grabbed her other arm she would have tipped over again. Hermione silently vowed never to complain about Keepers and their too-tight grabbing ever again. "Hermione, are you in labour?"
"Well... maybe. It's a bit early to be sure." Hermione blushed. Everyone in the class was whispering, staring at her, or both. Mostly both. "I'll be fine to go to Arithmancy, honestly, the early stages take hours and hours, and I'm not even sure if I am yet. It could be false labour, there's really no way to know this soon..."
11. "I know that all of you have been under a great deal of pressure from the new laws by the Ministry and dealing with your families' wishes," she said. "Thus, it is with great pleasure that I announce an opportunity for everyone to," she pursed her lips, "let their hair down. It is my distinct pleasure to announce that we will be holding Hogwarts' first ever public Yule Ball in three day's time."
The Great Hall exploded with excited whispers. Hermione groaned.
"Attention!" called the Headmistress sternly, clapping her hands. "There is a more important reason for this event, and one that I hope the older of you will take advantage of. The Ministry has yet to repeal its surveillance programs, and a number of you have had appointments with the Department of Deflorestation that were missed, it being the middle of the school year. The night of the Ball, I hope, will be a night of mingling not just with the other houses but also with members of the public. If you do not wish to take advantage of the Ministry program, I highly encourage all of you to get to know one another a bit better. That is all."
12. Hermione looked down at the timetable on the workbench in front of her. According to the timetable, her name was Harriet Stranger and she was in her ten o’clock double Potions class with the Viperspits.
Then she looked at the timetable again. The double Potions class was being taught by Professor Seximus Snake.
Harriet Stranger? Viperspits? Seximus Snake?
I must be dreaming, Hermione thought. Either I’m dreaming, or I fell and hit my head when the library started spinning.
Hermione looked to the front of the classroom and saw Snape looking down at his seating plan. She could see the confusion on his face as he looked at the names. He raised his head and looked at her. Then he looked back down at the parchment on his desk. He looked up again and caught her eye. He quirked a brow at her questioningly. She nodded, almost imperceptibly.
13. The door flies open and Lee Jordan stumbles in. He pants and grabs hold of the edge of the table to steady himself. “It’s as we thought. They’re out with Decree Number 307 to 309 - a day early, but nothing we weren’t expecting.”
Snape straightens. “What has she targeted specifically this time?” His tone is once again grave.
“307 regulates the appropriate strength of grip to be used for the Two-Minute Handshake - it seems some complained that their comrades weren’t expressing enough enthusiasm.”
Snape snorts and nods. “Go on.”
“Then, 308 dictates that charcoal grey is no longer acceptable, as it has been found to be too ‘depressing.’ In fact, it declares grey a special case - since it lacks appropriately cheery coloration, nothing darker than dove grey is allowed, and all forms of grey are now forbidden for women.”
14. He rolled his eyes and crossed his arms. “Did you not consider that I laced the healing potion for your benefit alone?”
“But wh-I see no good reason for you to do so, sir, other than to make me more... tractable. Sir.”
He narrowed his eyes into a scowl, and slowly, ever so slowly, leaned in toward her, stopping only when their faces were a few inches apart. She could feel the animosity radiating off of him, and fear sliced through her again.
“'Death Eater' is not a synonym for sexual predator, Miss Granger, despite your previous experience,” Snape growled, then stood up abruptly and took her plate away from her, dumping the contents in the trash. “If you want to err on the side of caution, then you will do the cooking. I hope for your sake that you know how. I do not tolerate waste, and if another dish goes into the bin, you will suffer for it.”
15. “I thought I’d go ahead and work on my CV.” Severus reclined against the pillow with his hands behind his head, enjoying himself as he watched her move around his room. “I don’t expect it will do any good, but if it will keep me in your good graces,” he playfully leered at her as she cast a Cleansing Charm before stepping into her knickers, “I’m willing to send it off, but I have to make a few changes to it first.”
“Like what?” Hermione asked, sliding her arms into her robe.
“For instance, I thought it might be best if I left off the part that says ‘Minion to Dark Lord 1978-1998.’ What do you think?” he drawled.
Hermione’s hands stilled on her buttons, and she lifted her head to see him smirking at her. She wondered if that look was always going to make her want him as much as it did right now. She crossed to his side of the bed, raking her eyes down his body to where the sheets were tented.
16. She looked at Hermione to see if her customer liked the change and smiled. "If you were teaching Potions you wouldn't want to wear sleeves like this, but as you're teaching Arithmancy, the greatest danger to your wardrobe will come from chalk dust, I think; I can put a special charm on your robes to repel it."
Hermione smiled a little ruefully. "There are so many details; it's rather overwhelming."
“We haven’t even got to the fun part yet, Mrs Weasley,” Madam Arachne said with a smile. “Before that, do you have a preference for foundation charms? You’ve a lovely waistline so I shouldn’t think you’d want corsetry, but one of my soutien-gorge charms on the robes will be invaluable as there’s no straps to worry about.”
“Nothing too…” Hermione began, and mimed her breasts being squeezed up and together.
“Heavens, no, that charm is used only at customer request, usually on eveningwear.” She gave Hermione a sly, sidelong look. “Or on special-occasion lingerie. I have a lovely black spider silk that just came in from South America…”
“Well… maybe later on,” Hermione stammered.
17. “Where was he found?” Hermione asked, hoping to divert the subject.
“Professor McGonagall says he is in a Muggle hospital,” Molly answered, her confusion plain. “Of all places…”
“Why a Muggle hospital?” Ginny asked. “Death Eaters hate Muggles.”
“He probably wants to poison their medicine,” Harry said bitterly.
Molly sighed. “Apparently he’s very ill,” she said. “A Muggle found him in a place for people without homes.”
“A homeless shelter?” Harry asked.
“Yes, homeless, that’s the word,” Molly said, as though remembering something. “Of course, Professor Snape does have a home-”
“Not anymore, he doesn’t,” Ron interjected.
“Be that as it may-”
“You mean he was just wandering out on the street?” Hermione asked frowning. “In broad daylight? With the entire wizarding world on his trail, and his face all over the Daily Prophet?”
Firstly, the quotes are arranged in a logical order. Once you crack the code and figure out the pattern the quiz will be that much easier. If you guess the code correctly, I'll unscreen your post to assist the others.
Secondly, each of the categories has only one story used in the quiz. So if you recognize the quote from Draught of Peace: Best Fluff, you can cross off the other fluff nominees they will not be used.
Have fun, and don't forget to vote!
Snape’s Boon by Amr
Walk Through Fire by wonderfulwrites (WIP)
The Dunderhead Tax by scatteredlogic
Pomogranate Seeds by arsenicjade
Back in Black by ubiquirk
To Make Much of Time by mundungus42
Traitor by averygoodun
In Annulo by ladyofthemasque
Virgin on the Ridiculous by melusin_79
Into The North by Kailin
Revelations of a Bed & Breakfast by soul_bound_8686
Buses by shiv5468
Pushing the Envelope by britt_1975
I Know What You’ve Done by snarkyroxy
Phoenix Feathers by camillo1978
Send Not To Know by subvers
The Price of Madness by plaidpooka (WIP)
Canvas & Paint by shiv5468 & warded_portal
The Kindness of Strangers by fandomme (WIP)
Volition by Polywolly (WIP)
Two Weeks Notice by vanityfair00
Becoming by snarkypants (WIP)
Spoils of War by bambu345
Love Him in my Absence by anogete
As The Pages Turn by stormyskize
Brittle by ttfs
Accountable by elidyce aka Dyce
Enraptured by sshg316
Resurgam by ayerf
1. “They're coming. We've got to go.”
Her words drifted, a cold sound in the air.
The sound of wool catching on wood. “We?”
Her voice was strained, a near silent prayer, “Yes. Now.”
His warm breath felt like home against her throat. The touch of his hand a reserved confirmation.
“I thought you had forgotten.”
“Never.”
2. Severus had never liked being naked, but here he was being stripped bare by a woman, and she wasn’t laughing at him.
‘Lovely,’ Hermione pronounced. She lay on the bed and held her open arms up to him. ‘Come here.’
The feel of skin on skin was like nothing he’d known. Hermione murmured words of encouragement as Severus tentatively explored her body, smiling at his expression when she lovingly stroked his cock. She gently pushed him on his back and straddled him. Severus held his breath.
Hermione smiled impishly. ‘This won’t hurt a bit.’
And she was right. It didn’t.
3. Snape opened the door and looked around, and after the tiniest of deliberations, Harry quickly darted in and ducked behind the nearest armchair. For a second, he thought he’d been caught, but luckily, Snape seemed distracted. Harry dared to peek his head from around the chair and nearly fainted from what he saw.
Hermione Granger, his best friend in the world, sat on the edge of the bed and stared up at Snape.
Harry went for his wand and had opened his mouth to hex the daylights out of Snape for threatening Hermione when her words stilled and shocked him.
“Hello, Severus,” she said quietly.
Severus?
Harry’s jaw dropped. He didn’t even have time to be confused before Hermione stood and walked over to a place right in front of Snape.
Be careful, Hermione! He’s dangerous! But Hermione didn’t seem the least bit frightened.
The two stared at each other for a long moment, and Harry didn’t have any clue what was going on or what to do. The expression on Snape’s face was inscrutable, but there was something in his eyes that Harry had never seen there before.
“Is it really over?” she finally asked with hope in her eyes.
Harry could only watch in confusion.
“Yes, Hermione,” Snape said softly. “It’s really over. We’re free.”
It was like watching a train wreck. Harry felt overwhelming horror, but couldn’t bring himself to look away as his best friend threw herself into the arms of the man he hated most.
4. She was in time to gratefully receive a cup of much needed coffee from Neville before he walked out of the kitchen to go and collect an international Portkey to Athens (apparently, the Floo was generally out of favour). The company’s stores of hellebore and asphodel were running low, and Neville was also hoping to get a couple of days in Crete to collect a load of Class-A dittany.
Amazingly, Draco was up, and even more amazingly, he seemed genuinely upset that Neville was leaving. Hermione watched wide-eyed with surprise (and envy) as a bare-footed Draco dashed out into the rain to give Neville an extra goodbye kiss. She refrained from taking the piss out of the subdued and shivering man who returned. He obviously loved his green-fingered boyfriend, and he was really good at conjuring booze.
Snape explained the cataloguing system he had for the store cupboard (apparently Harry occasionally struggled with the concept of the alphabet) and said he’d hang around for the morning to make sure Hermione didn’t foul up.
5. He guided her easily through to a table and held her chair for her. "Would you like something to drink?" She could see the carefully guarded expression on his face. He was playing his cards very close to his chest, and if she hadn't spent months across from him in staff meetings, she might have thought him angry with her. But no, he was simply -- on edge.
"Thank you," she said. "I don't think I could face the Minister's speech without artificial aid -- could you?"
There. Just at the corner of his mouth: a twitch. "I thought that's why you're here."
She smiled warmly, a slow smile that looked dreadfully knowing. "No, it was just an excuse to ask you out for dinner."
His eyes drew down to a slit, but the ghost of a grin remained. "What are you drinking this evening?"
"Firewhiskey?" she said.
He raised a single eyebrow at that. "If you'll excuse me, I'll be right back." And with a trademark flick of his robe, he was gone.
It took Ginny Weasley all of two seconds to take his place. "Did I just see you arrive with who I just thought I saw you arrive with!?" The sentence came out all as one word.
6. “I’ve decided to change careers to something less stressful than the Ministry so I have time to work on my next project,” she said. It sounded almost as good as she practiced it.
“Which is?” Ron asked.
“I’m writing a history of the war,” she told them.
And she was. Every day after the first week spent cleaning the shop, Hermione took out parchment and quill and scratched out every memory she had of the war, starting with her Fourth year. When she wasn’t writing, she read - books on Potions and Defense and Charms, anything and everything. She didn’t wonder how she had fallen so far. She wondered why she hadn’t thought of this as a career earlier.
“That doesn’t look like work,” Snape grumbled at her later when he caught her with her parchments.
Hermione looked up at him and put down her quill. “What would you like for me to do?” she asked in a patient tone designed to irritate him further. It worked.
“Couldn’t you clean…” he looked around to see everything gleaming. Hermione had done nothing but dust for days, sneezing every few minutes. He had complained about incessant noise then. “Something?”
“Why did you hire me if there wasn’t any work to do?”
Snape narrowed his eyes. “I wanted to observe personally the Midlife Crisis of a Harlot,” he said, quoting Skeeter’s venomous headline.
Hermione clenched her fists as well as her jaw. “It was Midlife Crisis OR a Harlot. Not OF, you miserable git.”
7. He slowly raised his head to look at her again before carefully placing his quill in the inkwell. "It's a restorative potion, a healing potion, if you will."
"What does it do?" she asked.
"Nothing as of yet. My intention was to administer it to long-term coma patients who have fallen into a vegetative state. It is meant to reactivate their brains."
Hermione was surprised. She had expected some dubious potion of questionable ethical value that he could sell to wizards with too much money and too much time on their hands. The last thing she expected was a healing potion to return coma victims to a functioning state. "Much luck, sir?"
Snape smirked wryly and shook his head before returning to his work. "Not at all, Miss Granger."
"You know, I read this article not but a few months back in Potions Master that speculated as to the use of a herb called gotu kola in restoring the functions of a damaged brain."
"And who wrote that article?" Snape asked in a low voice.
Hermione frowned as she tried to recall the name. She tossed in the next ingredient and stirred the potion twice before sitting the rod aside for the moment. "I believe his name was William Malrubius."
8. When he had finally believed his welfare was important to her he began to talk. At first, their conversations were abrupt and clipped. However, after one sneering comment that she couldn’t possibly understand the misery of his life, Hermione had Leviosa’d his scrawny arse through the still-wrecked portions of her home - caring for him had been a full-time activity for months - telling him, in vivid detail, about the deaths of her family, her friends, her enemies.
Severus had been silent for a week following that confrontation, but it had been a turning point for them both.
Now his silence was welcomed as long as he kept doing that with his mouth ... and oh, Nimue! Hermione moaned in response to his flicking the tip of her other nipple with his fingers.
9. "You suppose nothing. As yours is the type to send blood running in the streets, giving the publisher something to calm themselves with is only practical."
"I would nearly believe you were calling me practical."
"You always were prone to flights of fancy."
"A characteristic which has served you well, I believe."
He admitted to nothing, but his lips curved up, and his eyes were amused. It was enough. He had come to her rooms earlier each evening. He stayed no later, nearly fleeing when they were done, and she still had not stepped foot in his wing, but his willingness to show up before the absolute dead of night was a sign of something, so far as she was concerned. She hadn't really any idea of what, but something. Something that had to do with the kiss by the lake and the fact that he was unbothered by Gregory having seen them.
She thought Harry knew, and she knew Tonks and Kingsley knew. For that matter, if Harry did know, then Ron would be aware as well. And Viktor, for that matter. None of them had said a word, but Hermione made her living (and staked her reputation) on reading between lines, between words, between syllables.
10. "That doesn't look like fine to me," Ron said, giving her a worried look. "That looks like you breaking your word."
Hermione stared at him. "Like me breaking my... what?"
"You said you wouldn't have the baby in class, Hermione. You promised you wouldn't."
Bugger. She had, too. "Er... well, I'm not having it right now or anything..."
"I knew it!" Ron raised his voice. "Re- Professor Lupin! Hermione's starting to have the baby now!"
"Hermione?" Remus took her arm gently. A bit too gently... if Ron hadn't helpfully grabbed her other arm she would have tipped over again. Hermione silently vowed never to complain about Keepers and their too-tight grabbing ever again. "Hermione, are you in labour?"
"Well... maybe. It's a bit early to be sure." Hermione blushed. Everyone in the class was whispering, staring at her, or both. Mostly both. "I'll be fine to go to Arithmancy, honestly, the early stages take hours and hours, and I'm not even sure if I am yet. It could be false labour, there's really no way to know this soon..."
11. "I know that all of you have been under a great deal of pressure from the new laws by the Ministry and dealing with your families' wishes," she said. "Thus, it is with great pleasure that I announce an opportunity for everyone to," she pursed her lips, "let their hair down. It is my distinct pleasure to announce that we will be holding Hogwarts' first ever public Yule Ball in three day's time."
The Great Hall exploded with excited whispers. Hermione groaned.
"Attention!" called the Headmistress sternly, clapping her hands. "There is a more important reason for this event, and one that I hope the older of you will take advantage of. The Ministry has yet to repeal its surveillance programs, and a number of you have had appointments with the Department of Deflorestation that were missed, it being the middle of the school year. The night of the Ball, I hope, will be a night of mingling not just with the other houses but also with members of the public. If you do not wish to take advantage of the Ministry program, I highly encourage all of you to get to know one another a bit better. That is all."
12. Hermione looked down at the timetable on the workbench in front of her. According to the timetable, her name was Harriet Stranger and she was in her ten o’clock double Potions class with the Viperspits.
Then she looked at the timetable again. The double Potions class was being taught by Professor Seximus Snake.
Harriet Stranger? Viperspits? Seximus Snake?
I must be dreaming, Hermione thought. Either I’m dreaming, or I fell and hit my head when the library started spinning.
Hermione looked to the front of the classroom and saw Snape looking down at his seating plan. She could see the confusion on his face as he looked at the names. He raised his head and looked at her. Then he looked back down at the parchment on his desk. He looked up again and caught her eye. He quirked a brow at her questioningly. She nodded, almost imperceptibly.
13. The door flies open and Lee Jordan stumbles in. He pants and grabs hold of the edge of the table to steady himself. “It’s as we thought. They’re out with Decree Number 307 to 309 - a day early, but nothing we weren’t expecting.”
Snape straightens. “What has she targeted specifically this time?” His tone is once again grave.
“307 regulates the appropriate strength of grip to be used for the Two-Minute Handshake - it seems some complained that their comrades weren’t expressing enough enthusiasm.”
Snape snorts and nods. “Go on.”
“Then, 308 dictates that charcoal grey is no longer acceptable, as it has been found to be too ‘depressing.’ In fact, it declares grey a special case - since it lacks appropriately cheery coloration, nothing darker than dove grey is allowed, and all forms of grey are now forbidden for women.”
14. He rolled his eyes and crossed his arms. “Did you not consider that I laced the healing potion for your benefit alone?”
“But wh-I see no good reason for you to do so, sir, other than to make me more... tractable. Sir.”
He narrowed his eyes into a scowl, and slowly, ever so slowly, leaned in toward her, stopping only when their faces were a few inches apart. She could feel the animosity radiating off of him, and fear sliced through her again.
“'Death Eater' is not a synonym for sexual predator, Miss Granger, despite your previous experience,” Snape growled, then stood up abruptly and took her plate away from her, dumping the contents in the trash. “If you want to err on the side of caution, then you will do the cooking. I hope for your sake that you know how. I do not tolerate waste, and if another dish goes into the bin, you will suffer for it.”
15. “I thought I’d go ahead and work on my CV.” Severus reclined against the pillow with his hands behind his head, enjoying himself as he watched her move around his room. “I don’t expect it will do any good, but if it will keep me in your good graces,” he playfully leered at her as she cast a Cleansing Charm before stepping into her knickers, “I’m willing to send it off, but I have to make a few changes to it first.”
“Like what?” Hermione asked, sliding her arms into her robe.
“For instance, I thought it might be best if I left off the part that says ‘Minion to Dark Lord 1978-1998.’ What do you think?” he drawled.
Hermione’s hands stilled on her buttons, and she lifted her head to see him smirking at her. She wondered if that look was always going to make her want him as much as it did right now. She crossed to his side of the bed, raking her eyes down his body to where the sheets were tented.
16. She looked at Hermione to see if her customer liked the change and smiled. "If you were teaching Potions you wouldn't want to wear sleeves like this, but as you're teaching Arithmancy, the greatest danger to your wardrobe will come from chalk dust, I think; I can put a special charm on your robes to repel it."
Hermione smiled a little ruefully. "There are so many details; it's rather overwhelming."
“We haven’t even got to the fun part yet, Mrs Weasley,” Madam Arachne said with a smile. “Before that, do you have a preference for foundation charms? You’ve a lovely waistline so I shouldn’t think you’d want corsetry, but one of my soutien-gorge charms on the robes will be invaluable as there’s no straps to worry about.”
“Nothing too…” Hermione began, and mimed her breasts being squeezed up and together.
“Heavens, no, that charm is used only at customer request, usually on eveningwear.” She gave Hermione a sly, sidelong look. “Or on special-occasion lingerie. I have a lovely black spider silk that just came in from South America…”
“Well… maybe later on,” Hermione stammered.
17. “Where was he found?” Hermione asked, hoping to divert the subject.
“Professor McGonagall says he is in a Muggle hospital,” Molly answered, her confusion plain. “Of all places…”
“Why a Muggle hospital?” Ginny asked. “Death Eaters hate Muggles.”
“He probably wants to poison their medicine,” Harry said bitterly.
Molly sighed. “Apparently he’s very ill,” she said. “A Muggle found him in a place for people without homes.”
“A homeless shelter?” Harry asked.
“Yes, homeless, that’s the word,” Molly said, as though remembering something. “Of course, Professor Snape does have a home-”
“Not anymore, he doesn’t,” Ron interjected.
“Be that as it may-”
“You mean he was just wandering out on the street?” Hermione asked frowning. “In broad daylight? With the entire wizarding world on his trail, and his face all over the Daily Prophet?”