Prolific Author Quiz
In the Spring of two thousand and five,
Potter fandom most truly did thrive.
Then into this whirl,
Fell a little fangirl,
Who for truth in her fanfic did strive.
She swore up and down, even sideways,
With Canon one could always find ways,
To stick to the book,
And never to look,
Like you're writing fanfic in a blind haze.
But then one day she heard such a fuss,
'Bout a new tale called The Succubus.
She clicked and she looked,
And found she was hooked.
southernwitch69 was a must!
She became quite an avid fic reader,
For SSHG, a cheerleader.
Through fanon she'd plod
And become the "Nice Mod,"
And other fangirls wished to meet her.
Down in Dallas, the fangirls did run,
To the writer who is so much fun!
So can you guess who?
It's easy to do,
For it's ginny_weasley31!
Rhyming fool=morethansirius
10 points to cecelle for winning last week’s quiz!!! She knows all about a hurting Hermione.
The first fangirl who posts a perfect score will get to choose the next quiz. Quick!
Match the story to the quote:
Voice of Truth
A Dreaded Holiday
Letters to No One
The Curse of True Love (WIP)
Befuddled
Return to Me
Strawberry Tart and Chocolate Hearts
A Slip of the Tongue
The Resolution Solution
Moving On
The Days
Hanging by a Chain
1. She was getting ready to just get out of the blasted thing when the witch called out, “Lone rider here! We have a lone rider! Would anyone like to join this lovely young woman in The Tunnel of Love?”
At that, Hermione’s brown eyes flashed with fury, she was more disgusted by this than anything else that she’d heard or seen that day. Now, however, she was determined to sit there all day until either someone showed up to ride with her or the ride-witch got a clue that some people can be single and happy and still ride stupid rides alone! She had just finished ranting to herself when she felt someone get in and sit next to her. She turned and was stunned to find that it was none other then her greasy Potions professor.
Stammering she managed to fumble out, “Oh, uh, he-he-hello, Professor Snape.” Oh great, how articulate was that? She groaned inwardly as Professor Snape quirked a supercilious eyebrow at her and their car lurched forward into the tunnel.
2. 239 Days, 18 Hours, 22 Minutes
Severus paced his living room floor, listening to the sounds of the clock ticking, waiting for the time to arrive when he needed to leave for his meeting, and worrying over the best way to accomplish one of the items on his list. He was certain that this entire process was supposed to be easier. There were too many things that he didn’t have control over. How the hell could something that stupid become a binding contract?
Not for the first time in the last four months, he cursed magic and whatever deity who’d created it - and its asinine rules. But even though he cursed magic, he wasn’t about to give it up without a fight.
Over the last few months he had not stopped researching any possible way to nullify the contract. His search was still fruitless.
One thing he did learn was that any time he completed one of the items on his list, a gold line appeared through it.
The countdown, however, never stopped. It continued on as a constant reminder that he was working under a looming anvil.
3. Tuesdays were her favorite day of the week. She always knew when it was Tuesday without ever looking at a calendar. Severus would always be pleasant at breakfast on those mornings before rushing off to work.
It was the one day of the week that he never stayed late. He would come home from the shop, take her upstairs, and make love to her.
As he thrust into her, she really didn’t care if his thoughts were on the Mudblood.
Oh, Narcissa knew.
She’d known for quite sometime.
But Severus would never dare be unfaithful, of that Cissy was certain.
4. ‘Out with it, girl,” he snarled at her.
“I - I just wanted to say thank you for everything that you did for us,” she said quietly.
There was obvious doubt in his eyes, though his stance relaxed, if ever so slightly. The silence stretched between them.
She knew that she could scream, and providing that there was anyone still left from the memorial service, this man would not be able to escape quickly enough. They were, after all, still on Hogwarts’ grounds. However, a strong part of her did not wish to do that. She also knew that there was a chance that he could hurt her, but she doubted that he actually would. There was no rhyme or reason to it - just something in her gut told her to trust him.
Thus, it caught her completely off-guard when she was hit with a silent hex. Her body stiffened and began to fall towards the hard, wet ground. Before her body hit, however, he waved his wand yet again, slowing her fall so that she reached the grass gently.
“I don’t know what you’re playing at, Miss Granger,” he hissed, stooping over her. “However, regardless of your intentions, I cannot have you preventing me from leaving.” He stood back up. “Accio Firebolt,” he said. Moments later, a broom slapped into his hand. Mounting the broom, he kicked off the ground and quickly left.
“…it took about five minutes more for the Petrificus Spell to wear off, and I was able to move. I was soaked to the bone from lying on the ground, so I had to go home, clean up, and change. That’s why I was so late that evening.”
“A Firebolt? Snape had a Firebolt?” Harry mutters.
“I tell you about seeing the man after a remembrance service, and all you can mention is his ruddy broom?” I ask in undisguised disgust.
5. “Everything all right here?” Ron asked from behind them, handing Hermione a drink and trying to lead her away from his sister and Harry.
“Yes, thank you,” she said, eyeing the remainder of the group and taking the proffered glass from Ron. Smiling, she took a sip of the sweet, elf-made wine, followed in quick succession by another, not noticing as Ron watched her closely for any reaction.
Hermione felt the effects of the wine after only the first few swallows and looked at Ron quizzically. He shrugged his shoulder, took her arm, and again attempted to lead her away from Harry and Ginny.
Sensing an ulterior motive and no longer trusting him, she yanked her arm from his grasp and nearly fell to the ground when she was overcome by a sudden wave of dizziness. Her cheeks felt flushed, her vision was slightly blurred, and her mind began to feel slightly numb. Once she caught her balance, and trying to keep her thoughts straight, she started to yell, “WHAT THE BLOODY HELL DID YOU DO TO ME?”
6. When he and Hermione first began working together, they’d butted heads, argued and bickered. Over time they eventually began to form a tentative friendship as they realised that they were both on the same side. Their sniping turned into polite conversation, and he decided that it was possible that she could possibly be more than a Potter Sycophant.
Four years ago, after too much to drink at the staff Christmas party, he’d woken up in the morning to find the former bushy-haired nuisance nestled up against him, her leg draped over his - and wearing nothing more than the bed sheet. They barely left each other’s company for the remainder of that holiday.
What began as a fiery sexual relationship, soon ended up after a few months as nothing more than ashes. By Easter break he’d had enough. Looking back now, he didn’t know if it was that he’d finally had enough of her chatter, or if he was truly afraid that she had suddenly become too close. When they’d been together she’d harassed and annoyed him with her presence. Not that she was particularly annoying. It was the simple fact that after years of spying and then of being on the run, he’d grown used to his solitude. Her desire to talk and build a relationship had unnerved him on many levels - it was something that he’d not yet been ready to do. Truth be told, he’d simply wanted the perks of an intimate relationship, none of the messy entanglements that were always sure to follow. After four months, Hermione was becoming a messy entanglement; it was safer for Severus to cut her loose, and cut her loose he did.
7. And then I remind myself that you didn’t die. You’re alive and well in … well, you were. I haven’t a clue if you’re still there or not.
All of this leads me to my next question, Mr Smith. Which is quite simply… how?
Seriously, how did you survive? Harry went back for your body; he helped dig the hole where your coffin was placed in the ground. So, how did you feign such a thing? I imagine that it was an elaborate plan. Or how else was it that we actually had a body to bury?
How did you stay hidden for so long?
Suddenly my mind is burgeoning with more questions, but I will refrain simply because I’d said that I would. There are just so many things I wish to know.
Before I break my promise to myself, I will close this letter. I just wish to finish this one by wishing you a happy anniversary. For, I’m hoping that you’ve been able to find some peace and possibly even some happiness in your life, and that day would’ve been the birth of your new life.
Sincerely,
H Weasley
8. It may have seemed foolish to his wife, but walking the halls of Hogwarts in search of snogging teenagers was one of the things that Severus Snape did. It was one of the things he was good at… one of the things he was known for. But, he was also only a part-time professor these days, only teaching the N.E.W.T.-level students in Potions, and therefore he hardly ever had night time patrols assigned to him anymore. Most days he didn’t miss it, but tonight….
Tonight he had watched his only child, his only daughter-and a Slytherin at that, as she sat with Frank Longbottom at the Gryffindor table during dinner. Not only did he quickly learn that Lizzie and Frank were a couple, but he discovered very soon after that that his wife had already known and had simply ‘forgot to mention it’.
Not bloody likely.
Hermione wasn’t stupid. She knew how Severus would feel about his little girl dating. She was only seventeen for Merlin’s sake! he thought.
9. That was when the moment of idiocy hit Remus. When asked about it years later, he’d never be able to say what it was that came over him.
“Severus, you need to let it go. Harry Potter’s son is not going to be the end of your life.”
“At least I don’t have to deal with Granger’s kid,” Severus muttered, while glancing over Hermione.
“No, just Ron’s.”
“So I’ve heard.”
“Which leads me to what I’d like to ask you,” Remus carefully stated.
“Out with it.”
“Go talk with her, please. I’ve spoken with her tonight, when she first arrived, and Minerva has, but everyone else has only said the obligatory welcome and avoided her as if she were ill.”
“I am not speaking with someone just because she’s a charity case,” hissed Snape.
10. At 3:15 that same afternoon, Severus was seated in the headmaster’s office in his usual wing backed chair. He was staring at the old man sitting across from him intently.
“Why was I not informed of this, Albus?” he finally asked after several minutes of intense silence.
“Whatever do you mean, Severus?” queried the headmaster with a small smile.
It took every ounce of Professor Snape’s will to keep his anger curtailed. Through gritted teeth he hissed, “I mean, why was I not informed of Hermione’s upcoming nuptials.”
The old man studied his young colleague carefully. “I was not aware that it would concern you, Severus. It is not as if we were keeping secrets from you. “
“Not concern me, Albus? What makes you think that having my wife getting married would not concern me?” Snape growled, completely unaware of Dumbledore’s amused look.
“The last time that I checked, Severus, Hermione was no longer your wife.
Potter fandom most truly did thrive.
Then into this whirl,
Fell a little fangirl,
Who for truth in her fanfic did strive.
She swore up and down, even sideways,
With Canon one could always find ways,
To stick to the book,
And never to look,
Like you're writing fanfic in a blind haze.
But then one day she heard such a fuss,
'Bout a new tale called The Succubus.
She clicked and she looked,
And found she was hooked.
southernwitch69 was a must!
She became quite an avid fic reader,
For SSHG, a cheerleader.
Through fanon she'd plod
And become the "Nice Mod,"
And other fangirls wished to meet her.
Down in Dallas, the fangirls did run,
To the writer who is so much fun!
So can you guess who?
It's easy to do,
For it's ginny_weasley31!
Rhyming fool=morethansirius
10 points to cecelle for winning last week’s quiz!!! She knows all about a hurting Hermione.
The first fangirl who posts a perfect score will get to choose the next quiz. Quick!
Match the story to the quote:
Voice of Truth
A Dreaded Holiday
Letters to No One
The Curse of True Love (WIP)
Befuddled
Return to Me
Strawberry Tart and Chocolate Hearts
A Slip of the Tongue
The Resolution Solution
Moving On
The Days
Hanging by a Chain
1. She was getting ready to just get out of the blasted thing when the witch called out, “Lone rider here! We have a lone rider! Would anyone like to join this lovely young woman in The Tunnel of Love?”
At that, Hermione’s brown eyes flashed with fury, she was more disgusted by this than anything else that she’d heard or seen that day. Now, however, she was determined to sit there all day until either someone showed up to ride with her or the ride-witch got a clue that some people can be single and happy and still ride stupid rides alone! She had just finished ranting to herself when she felt someone get in and sit next to her. She turned and was stunned to find that it was none other then her greasy Potions professor.
Stammering she managed to fumble out, “Oh, uh, he-he-hello, Professor Snape.” Oh great, how articulate was that? She groaned inwardly as Professor Snape quirked a supercilious eyebrow at her and their car lurched forward into the tunnel.
2. 239 Days, 18 Hours, 22 Minutes
Severus paced his living room floor, listening to the sounds of the clock ticking, waiting for the time to arrive when he needed to leave for his meeting, and worrying over the best way to accomplish one of the items on his list. He was certain that this entire process was supposed to be easier. There were too many things that he didn’t have control over. How the hell could something that stupid become a binding contract?
Not for the first time in the last four months, he cursed magic and whatever deity who’d created it - and its asinine rules. But even though he cursed magic, he wasn’t about to give it up without a fight.
Over the last few months he had not stopped researching any possible way to nullify the contract. His search was still fruitless.
One thing he did learn was that any time he completed one of the items on his list, a gold line appeared through it.
The countdown, however, never stopped. It continued on as a constant reminder that he was working under a looming anvil.
3. Tuesdays were her favorite day of the week. She always knew when it was Tuesday without ever looking at a calendar. Severus would always be pleasant at breakfast on those mornings before rushing off to work.
It was the one day of the week that he never stayed late. He would come home from the shop, take her upstairs, and make love to her.
As he thrust into her, she really didn’t care if his thoughts were on the Mudblood.
Oh, Narcissa knew.
She’d known for quite sometime.
But Severus would never dare be unfaithful, of that Cissy was certain.
4. ‘Out with it, girl,” he snarled at her.
“I - I just wanted to say thank you for everything that you did for us,” she said quietly.
There was obvious doubt in his eyes, though his stance relaxed, if ever so slightly. The silence stretched between them.
She knew that she could scream, and providing that there was anyone still left from the memorial service, this man would not be able to escape quickly enough. They were, after all, still on Hogwarts’ grounds. However, a strong part of her did not wish to do that. She also knew that there was a chance that he could hurt her, but she doubted that he actually would. There was no rhyme or reason to it - just something in her gut told her to trust him.
Thus, it caught her completely off-guard when she was hit with a silent hex. Her body stiffened and began to fall towards the hard, wet ground. Before her body hit, however, he waved his wand yet again, slowing her fall so that she reached the grass gently.
“I don’t know what you’re playing at, Miss Granger,” he hissed, stooping over her. “However, regardless of your intentions, I cannot have you preventing me from leaving.” He stood back up. “Accio Firebolt,” he said. Moments later, a broom slapped into his hand. Mounting the broom, he kicked off the ground and quickly left.
“…it took about five minutes more for the Petrificus Spell to wear off, and I was able to move. I was soaked to the bone from lying on the ground, so I had to go home, clean up, and change. That’s why I was so late that evening.”
“A Firebolt? Snape had a Firebolt?” Harry mutters.
“I tell you about seeing the man after a remembrance service, and all you can mention is his ruddy broom?” I ask in undisguised disgust.
5. “Everything all right here?” Ron asked from behind them, handing Hermione a drink and trying to lead her away from his sister and Harry.
“Yes, thank you,” she said, eyeing the remainder of the group and taking the proffered glass from Ron. Smiling, she took a sip of the sweet, elf-made wine, followed in quick succession by another, not noticing as Ron watched her closely for any reaction.
Hermione felt the effects of the wine after only the first few swallows and looked at Ron quizzically. He shrugged his shoulder, took her arm, and again attempted to lead her away from Harry and Ginny.
Sensing an ulterior motive and no longer trusting him, she yanked her arm from his grasp and nearly fell to the ground when she was overcome by a sudden wave of dizziness. Her cheeks felt flushed, her vision was slightly blurred, and her mind began to feel slightly numb. Once she caught her balance, and trying to keep her thoughts straight, she started to yell, “WHAT THE BLOODY HELL DID YOU DO TO ME?”
6. When he and Hermione first began working together, they’d butted heads, argued and bickered. Over time they eventually began to form a tentative friendship as they realised that they were both on the same side. Their sniping turned into polite conversation, and he decided that it was possible that she could possibly be more than a Potter Sycophant.
Four years ago, after too much to drink at the staff Christmas party, he’d woken up in the morning to find the former bushy-haired nuisance nestled up against him, her leg draped over his - and wearing nothing more than the bed sheet. They barely left each other’s company for the remainder of that holiday.
What began as a fiery sexual relationship, soon ended up after a few months as nothing more than ashes. By Easter break he’d had enough. Looking back now, he didn’t know if it was that he’d finally had enough of her chatter, or if he was truly afraid that she had suddenly become too close. When they’d been together she’d harassed and annoyed him with her presence. Not that she was particularly annoying. It was the simple fact that after years of spying and then of being on the run, he’d grown used to his solitude. Her desire to talk and build a relationship had unnerved him on many levels - it was something that he’d not yet been ready to do. Truth be told, he’d simply wanted the perks of an intimate relationship, none of the messy entanglements that were always sure to follow. After four months, Hermione was becoming a messy entanglement; it was safer for Severus to cut her loose, and cut her loose he did.
7. And then I remind myself that you didn’t die. You’re alive and well in … well, you were. I haven’t a clue if you’re still there or not.
All of this leads me to my next question, Mr Smith. Which is quite simply… how?
Seriously, how did you survive? Harry went back for your body; he helped dig the hole where your coffin was placed in the ground. So, how did you feign such a thing? I imagine that it was an elaborate plan. Or how else was it that we actually had a body to bury?
How did you stay hidden for so long?
Suddenly my mind is burgeoning with more questions, but I will refrain simply because I’d said that I would. There are just so many things I wish to know.
Before I break my promise to myself, I will close this letter. I just wish to finish this one by wishing you a happy anniversary. For, I’m hoping that you’ve been able to find some peace and possibly even some happiness in your life, and that day would’ve been the birth of your new life.
Sincerely,
H Weasley
8. It may have seemed foolish to his wife, but walking the halls of Hogwarts in search of snogging teenagers was one of the things that Severus Snape did. It was one of the things he was good at… one of the things he was known for. But, he was also only a part-time professor these days, only teaching the N.E.W.T.-level students in Potions, and therefore he hardly ever had night time patrols assigned to him anymore. Most days he didn’t miss it, but tonight….
Tonight he had watched his only child, his only daughter-and a Slytherin at that, as she sat with Frank Longbottom at the Gryffindor table during dinner. Not only did he quickly learn that Lizzie and Frank were a couple, but he discovered very soon after that that his wife had already known and had simply ‘forgot to mention it’.
Not bloody likely.
Hermione wasn’t stupid. She knew how Severus would feel about his little girl dating. She was only seventeen for Merlin’s sake! he thought.
9. That was when the moment of idiocy hit Remus. When asked about it years later, he’d never be able to say what it was that came over him.
“Severus, you need to let it go. Harry Potter’s son is not going to be the end of your life.”
“At least I don’t have to deal with Granger’s kid,” Severus muttered, while glancing over Hermione.
“No, just Ron’s.”
“So I’ve heard.”
“Which leads me to what I’d like to ask you,” Remus carefully stated.
“Out with it.”
“Go talk with her, please. I’ve spoken with her tonight, when she first arrived, and Minerva has, but everyone else has only said the obligatory welcome and avoided her as if she were ill.”
“I am not speaking with someone just because she’s a charity case,” hissed Snape.
10. At 3:15 that same afternoon, Severus was seated in the headmaster’s office in his usual wing backed chair. He was staring at the old man sitting across from him intently.
“Why was I not informed of this, Albus?” he finally asked after several minutes of intense silence.
“Whatever do you mean, Severus?” queried the headmaster with a small smile.
It took every ounce of Professor Snape’s will to keep his anger curtailed. Through gritted teeth he hissed, “I mean, why was I not informed of Hermione’s upcoming nuptials.”
The old man studied his young colleague carefully. “I was not aware that it would concern you, Severus. It is not as if we were keeping secrets from you. “
“Not concern me, Albus? What makes you think that having my wife getting married would not concern me?” Snape growled, completely unaware of Dumbledore’s amused look.
“The last time that I checked, Severus, Hermione was no longer your wife.