Pirates!
Avast ye mateys! This week we'll be sailing the high seas with Severus and Hermione. We've declared it Talk Like a Pirate Day here on the quiz. So grab a bottle of rum and join us for some pirate fun. Yo ho ho!
This week's quiz was chosen by kribu who just happens to be celebrating her birthday today. Happy birthday to one of our favorite little quizzlings!
We here at the SSHG Quiz thought you might like a little artwork to get you in the mood. Enjoy!
Artwork by Melanie aka usagistu
Artwork by cruel_crush
Would you like to pick the theme for next week's quiz? Play the quiz at any time over the weekend by commenting with your answers. Just comment before the answer sheet goes up on Monday morning, U.S. EDT. If you have the correct answers, your name will be entered in our weekly drawing. The winner gets an all expense paid tour of the SSHG Quiz vault and the right to choose next Friday's quiz!
Match the quote to the story title without falling for the red herring titles:
The Bells of Passion's Watch by swooning4a_r
An Unreasonable Man by Lulabelle72
Battle on the High Sleaze by NSS_Lotm aka notsosaintly and ladyofthemasque
Costuming by lady_rhian
Here Be Pirates by pearle9240
Bright Morning Star by Trawler
Pirates and Ninjas by savine_snape
Pirate by ladyofthemasque
Thief in the Night by aussiemozzie
The Black Spot by bellegeste
On the Night of All Hallows Eve by Lady-Isowen
What Day Be It? by thefinalfritter
1. “What rebellious words doest thou seek to spew forth in an effort to divert my ravenous lips from their desired journey?” The Captain’s luxuriously long, silky hair whipped in the wind. “The blush of your cheeks doth paint a comely picture, wicked nymph.”
“Oh, kindest of gentlemen, I fear I will succumb to the ravishes of ill-health if I am forced to endure the hardship of these sopping garments a moment longer. Pray, good sir, is there a dry vestment on this vessel? A sheet? Someplace that I may warm up to away from this water-and wind-drenched deck?” Her soft doe-brown eyes pleaded with the hard obsidian orbs of her hardened captor.
Until she figured out what was going on, Hermione reasoned she might as well play along. While she had always been a little curious about various sexual practices, this was not her idea of an introduction to bondage. She was starting to lose feeling in her left hand. Getting out of the rain wouldn’t hurt, either.
The craggy pirate sliced through the fraying ropes binding the provocative seductress to the mast. He gathered her up in his finely chiseled muscular arms as she fell forward. “You shall be mine, you saucy temptress.” He strode forth with a purposeful stride, carrying the pure maiden to his chamber below.
“Uh, about all this pure and chaste business I keep hearing. How important is that to you?”
2. When the ball ended at eleven, Professor Snape methodically traveled through the halls, looking for wayward students to assign detention to. His wife chose to return to their apartment, stating that she was knackered and her feet hurt. When the Professor also returned to their apartment at close to midnight, he found an astounding sight.
The floor had been charmed to appear as though it was a choppy sea, and a gangplank led from the door to the bed, which was no longer a bed, but a small ship that flew a black flag with skull and crossbones. Standing on the “deck” was the wench he had met at the Halloween ball, one hand on a hip and the other holding a machete.
“You are now my prisoner,” the wench announced. “Come aboard and surrender peacefully or suffer my wrath.”
Severus reached slowly up and pulled the eye patch down over his eye. Then he strode up the gangplank, sliding his sword from its scabbard as he did. Facing the wench who fancied herself in control of the ship, he stared down at her arrogantly.
“Oh, I have no intentions of surrendering, peacefully or otherwise.” He tipped his head until his nose almost touched hers and, in an undertone tinged with menace, said, “Drop your weapon.”
Hazel eyes sparked briefly before they turned to liquid heat. “I believe the ship is yours, captain.”
“I thought so,” said the pirate.
He proceeded to show the wench exactly what price one paid for sailing their ship in his seas. She paid gladly. At some point, the eye patch was lost along with one golden earring.
3. Helena knew that it was wrong, very wrong. Yet she felt unable to move, hypnotized, as she peered through the gap in the bunk curtain at the unexpected view of Captain Benedict Brock. His lean back and surprisingly broad shoulders were turned towards her, and when he dipped forward to wet a cloth in the basin of water on the table, his muscles flexed and stretched in a way that made Helena’s breath come a little faster.
She told herself it was simply the fear of being caught that made her heart beat so, and that she ought to cough, or sneeze, or otherwise bring attention to her presence. But she remained silent, and her innocent eyes traced the line from Captain Brock’s shoulder to his narrow hips, where his hands had just begun to lower his leather breeches. She had thought that garment fitted him closely enough to leave little to her imagination; how wrong the next moment would prove her! For the captain, clearly assuming himself alone, quickly divested himself of this one remaining item of clothing, and stood before her clad only in the rapidly cooling evening air.
4. Heloise gestured slightly with her hand, and Henry held off his second blow. “Ease off, Mate. I have a different punishment in mind for Sylvan, here. A more…lasting one.”
“Shall I lock ‘im in the brig, Cap’n?” her bo’sun enquired, fingering the keys dangling on a long chain looped to his belt.
“No.” Her crew eyed her uncertainly…and then stared at her as if she’d tossed herself three sheets to the wind, when she added, “Chain him to my bunk.”
How many times had she traded cannonfire with Captain Sean Sylvan? How many times had he used the power of his influential friends in the Colonial governments to avoid fighting her when in port--or avoided capture--and smirked at her whenever they crossed paths on the docks? How many times had they duelled in the taverns? She still owed him for the two cuts he had given her; the scars hadn’t faded yet, though it had been a few years since the last one.
Sean Sylvan was hers, by the laws of the high seas. To the victor went the spoils, and today she had won. Still, as they grabbed him under the arms to haul him off, she changed her mind. “Wait. Strip him down, and give him a bath first. I don’t want any stench on my sheets.”
The shock in those dark eyes was priceless. Heloise smirked as he was hauled off towards the middeck gunwhale. Oh, yes, she had plans for her nemesis.
5. "Arrr, Hermione. You be puttin the shiver in my timber. What say you pay a visit to the captains cabin tonight?" a loud Weasley voice interrupted her counting. She tried to remember what number she had been on and decided to add a few more stirs to hopefully make it close, except she accidentally started stirring clockwise and her potion turned from the neon green shade it was supposed to take on to a duller pale blue.
Glaring, she looked up at Ron, who was completely oblivious to her ruined potion. "Yarr, sure!" she practically spat. "And while I'm at it I'm going to bury your cutlass in your own scabbard you scurvy dog!"
Where had that come from 'Mione? she wondered. She had no clue she knew how to talk like a pirate. Ron looked scandalized.
"Was only joking…" he mumbled and turned back around. Hermione started to feel bad that she had exploded on one of her best friends but quickly forgot about it when she heard an icy voice speak out to her.
"Miss Granger," Snape hissed, loud enough for the whole classroom to hear. "If you are going to insist on making derogatory, not to mention inappropriate comments, on Mr. Weasleys …ahem…cutlass, no matter how valid they might be…" Snickers from the Slytherin side at that last. "I'm going to have to deduct points…20...from Gryffindor…and a detention tonight at 7:00pm." He glared down daring her to retort.
"But sir, its my…"
"30 points then!" he snapped and walked away. This is definitely going to make my all time favorite birthdays list, she thought scornfully.
6. A wave of laughter rippled through the classroom.
“Oh shut up, all of you,” said Hermione. “Somebody go and fetch Dumbledore.” Nobody moved. “Fine, I’ll go myself. Look, make him sit down. Give him a glass of water.”
“Aye, I could sink a hogshead o’ grog. Splice the mainbrace! Break out the rum, ho!” Snape slammed an imaginary Black Jack onto the nearest desk.
Hermione rushed into the corridor.
“Neville!” she yelled, catching sight of a shambling form heading towards the stairs. “Hurry! Get Dumbledore. Snape’s got the Black Spot.”
Neville’s bland features clouded and he tutted in sympathy.
“Ooh, that’s a tricky one.” He pondered. “I’d say you need a two-pronged attack: first you’ve got to destroy the infected leaves to reduce the number of spores, and then spray with a systemic fungicide. But if it’s really got hold you might be better to replant with new root stock once you’ve removed the topsoil.”
“What?” Hermione gaped at him.
“Snape’s roses,” he explained, looking at her as though she were the one making no sense. “The ones with Black Spot.”
“Oh for goodness’ sake. Just get Professor Dumbledore, will you? Tell him it’s an emergency.”
7. “Well that was a Malfoy party that won’t be forgotten in a hurry,” Hermione murmured as she magical removed the make-up from her face.
“Indeed, it will no doubt be spoken of for many years to come.”
“You know, you really do look rather sexy dressed like that,” Hermione winked wickedly as she led Severus through to their bedroom. Pushing him down on the bed she grinned as she smiled cockishly at her husband, “permission to come aboard Captain?”
Severus signalled for Hermione to sit on his lap. Hermione smiled lasciviously.
“Merlin, Hermione...” Severus moaned as Hermione moved against his hip.
8. “Target sighted, Cap’n Harris!” a loud male voice called down from the crow’s nest. Snape was gripping the forward rail so tightly that his already pale hands were white.
“Follow her, Helmsman!” Captain Harris yelled to the man he’d put at the wheel. “Aurors to the fore!”
The team of Aurors didn’t need to be told twice, or once for that matter - they were already mustering at the front of the MOM Withyship, wands drawn and grim expressions on their faces. Harry was by Snape’s side, united in their desire to rescue Hermione Granger…though Harry, of course, didn’t know that the Potions Master was involved with his best friend.
It was clear now that The Frenchman’s Pride was trying to outrun them, and that was something they could never allow. The other vessel was marginally faster than the Ministry’s ship and given half a chance they would be away. Several of the Withyship’s crew were working flat out to fill the sails with as much wind as possible.
The minutes crawled by. Three…five…ten…until finally, finally, Captain Harris gave the order to release the grapples. The Aurors pointed their wands at the pirate ship and dozens of stout, enchanted ropes shot across the distance between the two ships, wrapping themselves around anything they could find. Aurors and crew alike began to swarm across.
Much to their surprise there was already some kind of pitched battle going on aboard the pirate ship.
9. “You can be my ship wench, Potter,” Draco said, staring intently.
“I’d rather not be anyone’s ship wench, if it’s all the same to you, Malfoy.”
“Oh, for Christ’s sake Harry, call me Draco, will you? We’ve been flirting around the issue for years now.”
“Four years, to be exact,” Hermione cut in, sipping her drink. The sexual tension between the men was always tangible.
“And you’re conveniently dressed as a British naval officer. A naval officer catching a dastardly pirate on the high seas,” Draco whispered, leaning in closer to Harry’s ear. “You know you’re dying to whip me and bed me…”
“Kindly keep your filthy imagination to yourself, Mr. Malfoy,” Snape intoned as he walked by.
10. She struggled against the ropes binding her. Her chest heaved, her breasts rising above her corset; she glared at the men eyeing her.
"You have to believe me. He's no pirate. He was just in the wrong place-"
"Miss Granger, you will learn how to hold your tongue if it's the last thing you do. There is no mercy for those consorting with pirates."
"But-"
"Save your breath for when you go before the Governor."
Captain Douglas turned his back on her pleas.
Hermione ceased struggling but refused to give up hope. They would never find Captain Severus Snape.
This week's quiz was chosen by kribu who just happens to be celebrating her birthday today. Happy birthday to one of our favorite little quizzlings!
We here at the SSHG Quiz thought you might like a little artwork to get you in the mood. Enjoy!
Artwork by Melanie aka usagistu
Artwork by cruel_crush
Would you like to pick the theme for next week's quiz? Play the quiz at any time over the weekend by commenting with your answers. Just comment before the answer sheet goes up on Monday morning, U.S. EDT. If you have the correct answers, your name will be entered in our weekly drawing. The winner gets an all expense paid tour of the SSHG Quiz vault and the right to choose next Friday's quiz!
Match the quote to the story title without falling for the red herring titles:
The Bells of Passion's Watch by swooning4a_r
An Unreasonable Man by Lulabelle72
Battle on the High Sleaze by NSS_Lotm aka notsosaintly and ladyofthemasque
Costuming by lady_rhian
Here Be Pirates by pearle9240
Bright Morning Star by Trawler
Pirates and Ninjas by savine_snape
Pirate by ladyofthemasque
Thief in the Night by aussiemozzie
The Black Spot by bellegeste
On the Night of All Hallows Eve by Lady-Isowen
What Day Be It? by thefinalfritter
1. “What rebellious words doest thou seek to spew forth in an effort to divert my ravenous lips from their desired journey?” The Captain’s luxuriously long, silky hair whipped in the wind. “The blush of your cheeks doth paint a comely picture, wicked nymph.”
“Oh, kindest of gentlemen, I fear I will succumb to the ravishes of ill-health if I am forced to endure the hardship of these sopping garments a moment longer. Pray, good sir, is there a dry vestment on this vessel? A sheet? Someplace that I may warm up to away from this water-and wind-drenched deck?” Her soft doe-brown eyes pleaded with the hard obsidian orbs of her hardened captor.
Until she figured out what was going on, Hermione reasoned she might as well play along. While she had always been a little curious about various sexual practices, this was not her idea of an introduction to bondage. She was starting to lose feeling in her left hand. Getting out of the rain wouldn’t hurt, either.
The craggy pirate sliced through the fraying ropes binding the provocative seductress to the mast. He gathered her up in his finely chiseled muscular arms as she fell forward. “You shall be mine, you saucy temptress.” He strode forth with a purposeful stride, carrying the pure maiden to his chamber below.
“Uh, about all this pure and chaste business I keep hearing. How important is that to you?”
2. When the ball ended at eleven, Professor Snape methodically traveled through the halls, looking for wayward students to assign detention to. His wife chose to return to their apartment, stating that she was knackered and her feet hurt. When the Professor also returned to their apartment at close to midnight, he found an astounding sight.
The floor had been charmed to appear as though it was a choppy sea, and a gangplank led from the door to the bed, which was no longer a bed, but a small ship that flew a black flag with skull and crossbones. Standing on the “deck” was the wench he had met at the Halloween ball, one hand on a hip and the other holding a machete.
“You are now my prisoner,” the wench announced. “Come aboard and surrender peacefully or suffer my wrath.”
Severus reached slowly up and pulled the eye patch down over his eye. Then he strode up the gangplank, sliding his sword from its scabbard as he did. Facing the wench who fancied herself in control of the ship, he stared down at her arrogantly.
“Oh, I have no intentions of surrendering, peacefully or otherwise.” He tipped his head until his nose almost touched hers and, in an undertone tinged with menace, said, “Drop your weapon.”
Hazel eyes sparked briefly before they turned to liquid heat. “I believe the ship is yours, captain.”
“I thought so,” said the pirate.
He proceeded to show the wench exactly what price one paid for sailing their ship in his seas. She paid gladly. At some point, the eye patch was lost along with one golden earring.
3. Helena knew that it was wrong, very wrong. Yet she felt unable to move, hypnotized, as she peered through the gap in the bunk curtain at the unexpected view of Captain Benedict Brock. His lean back and surprisingly broad shoulders were turned towards her, and when he dipped forward to wet a cloth in the basin of water on the table, his muscles flexed and stretched in a way that made Helena’s breath come a little faster.
She told herself it was simply the fear of being caught that made her heart beat so, and that she ought to cough, or sneeze, or otherwise bring attention to her presence. But she remained silent, and her innocent eyes traced the line from Captain Brock’s shoulder to his narrow hips, where his hands had just begun to lower his leather breeches. She had thought that garment fitted him closely enough to leave little to her imagination; how wrong the next moment would prove her! For the captain, clearly assuming himself alone, quickly divested himself of this one remaining item of clothing, and stood before her clad only in the rapidly cooling evening air.
4. Heloise gestured slightly with her hand, and Henry held off his second blow. “Ease off, Mate. I have a different punishment in mind for Sylvan, here. A more…lasting one.”
“Shall I lock ‘im in the brig, Cap’n?” her bo’sun enquired, fingering the keys dangling on a long chain looped to his belt.
“No.” Her crew eyed her uncertainly…and then stared at her as if she’d tossed herself three sheets to the wind, when she added, “Chain him to my bunk.”
How many times had she traded cannonfire with Captain Sean Sylvan? How many times had he used the power of his influential friends in the Colonial governments to avoid fighting her when in port--or avoided capture--and smirked at her whenever they crossed paths on the docks? How many times had they duelled in the taverns? She still owed him for the two cuts he had given her; the scars hadn’t faded yet, though it had been a few years since the last one.
Sean Sylvan was hers, by the laws of the high seas. To the victor went the spoils, and today she had won. Still, as they grabbed him under the arms to haul him off, she changed her mind. “Wait. Strip him down, and give him a bath first. I don’t want any stench on my sheets.”
The shock in those dark eyes was priceless. Heloise smirked as he was hauled off towards the middeck gunwhale. Oh, yes, she had plans for her nemesis.
5. "Arrr, Hermione. You be puttin the shiver in my timber. What say you pay a visit to the captains cabin tonight?" a loud Weasley voice interrupted her counting. She tried to remember what number she had been on and decided to add a few more stirs to hopefully make it close, except she accidentally started stirring clockwise and her potion turned from the neon green shade it was supposed to take on to a duller pale blue.
Glaring, she looked up at Ron, who was completely oblivious to her ruined potion. "Yarr, sure!" she practically spat. "And while I'm at it I'm going to bury your cutlass in your own scabbard you scurvy dog!"
Where had that come from 'Mione? she wondered. She had no clue she knew how to talk like a pirate. Ron looked scandalized.
"Was only joking…" he mumbled and turned back around. Hermione started to feel bad that she had exploded on one of her best friends but quickly forgot about it when she heard an icy voice speak out to her.
"Miss Granger," Snape hissed, loud enough for the whole classroom to hear. "If you are going to insist on making derogatory, not to mention inappropriate comments, on Mr. Weasleys …ahem…cutlass, no matter how valid they might be…" Snickers from the Slytherin side at that last. "I'm going to have to deduct points…20...from Gryffindor…and a detention tonight at 7:00pm." He glared down daring her to retort.
"But sir, its my…"
"30 points then!" he snapped and walked away. This is definitely going to make my all time favorite birthdays list, she thought scornfully.
6. A wave of laughter rippled through the classroom.
“Oh shut up, all of you,” said Hermione. “Somebody go and fetch Dumbledore.” Nobody moved. “Fine, I’ll go myself. Look, make him sit down. Give him a glass of water.”
“Aye, I could sink a hogshead o’ grog. Splice the mainbrace! Break out the rum, ho!” Snape slammed an imaginary Black Jack onto the nearest desk.
Hermione rushed into the corridor.
“Neville!” she yelled, catching sight of a shambling form heading towards the stairs. “Hurry! Get Dumbledore. Snape’s got the Black Spot.”
Neville’s bland features clouded and he tutted in sympathy.
“Ooh, that’s a tricky one.” He pondered. “I’d say you need a two-pronged attack: first you’ve got to destroy the infected leaves to reduce the number of spores, and then spray with a systemic fungicide. But if it’s really got hold you might be better to replant with new root stock once you’ve removed the topsoil.”
“What?” Hermione gaped at him.
“Snape’s roses,” he explained, looking at her as though she were the one making no sense. “The ones with Black Spot.”
“Oh for goodness’ sake. Just get Professor Dumbledore, will you? Tell him it’s an emergency.”
7. “Well that was a Malfoy party that won’t be forgotten in a hurry,” Hermione murmured as she magical removed the make-up from her face.
“Indeed, it will no doubt be spoken of for many years to come.”
“You know, you really do look rather sexy dressed like that,” Hermione winked wickedly as she led Severus through to their bedroom. Pushing him down on the bed she grinned as she smiled cockishly at her husband, “permission to come aboard Captain?”
Severus signalled for Hermione to sit on his lap. Hermione smiled lasciviously.
“Merlin, Hermione...” Severus moaned as Hermione moved against his hip.
8. “Target sighted, Cap’n Harris!” a loud male voice called down from the crow’s nest. Snape was gripping the forward rail so tightly that his already pale hands were white.
“Follow her, Helmsman!” Captain Harris yelled to the man he’d put at the wheel. “Aurors to the fore!”
The team of Aurors didn’t need to be told twice, or once for that matter - they were already mustering at the front of the MOM Withyship, wands drawn and grim expressions on their faces. Harry was by Snape’s side, united in their desire to rescue Hermione Granger…though Harry, of course, didn’t know that the Potions Master was involved with his best friend.
It was clear now that The Frenchman’s Pride was trying to outrun them, and that was something they could never allow. The other vessel was marginally faster than the Ministry’s ship and given half a chance they would be away. Several of the Withyship’s crew were working flat out to fill the sails with as much wind as possible.
The minutes crawled by. Three…five…ten…until finally, finally, Captain Harris gave the order to release the grapples. The Aurors pointed their wands at the pirate ship and dozens of stout, enchanted ropes shot across the distance between the two ships, wrapping themselves around anything they could find. Aurors and crew alike began to swarm across.
Much to their surprise there was already some kind of pitched battle going on aboard the pirate ship.
9. “You can be my ship wench, Potter,” Draco said, staring intently.
“I’d rather not be anyone’s ship wench, if it’s all the same to you, Malfoy.”
“Oh, for Christ’s sake Harry, call me Draco, will you? We’ve been flirting around the issue for years now.”
“Four years, to be exact,” Hermione cut in, sipping her drink. The sexual tension between the men was always tangible.
“And you’re conveniently dressed as a British naval officer. A naval officer catching a dastardly pirate on the high seas,” Draco whispered, leaning in closer to Harry’s ear. “You know you’re dying to whip me and bed me…”
“Kindly keep your filthy imagination to yourself, Mr. Malfoy,” Snape intoned as he walked by.
10. She struggled against the ropes binding her. Her chest heaved, her breasts rising above her corset; she glared at the men eyeing her.
"You have to believe me. He's no pirate. He was just in the wrong place-"
"Miss Granger, you will learn how to hold your tongue if it's the last thing you do. There is no mercy for those consorting with pirates."
"But-"
"Save your breath for when you go before the Governor."
Captain Douglas turned his back on her pleas.
Hermione ceased struggling but refused to give up hope. They would never find Captain Severus Snape.